#4: Land of little treats

Starting off today on a high note:

I think I’m suffering from existential nihilism!

The exclamation point makes it a little less grim, yeah?

Listen, it’s rough out there. We managed to weather the pandemic years as best we could, grappling with a loss of control and freedom that has since been followed by an era that feels like “the worst of times.”

Enter Little Treat Culture™️. Love it or hate it - you’ve probably read at least one of the myriad pieces written about the matter - we can all acknowledge that reclaiming life’s simple joys and finding an uplifting moment for ourselves has become more important than ever.

Reframing mundane activities has become a means of cultivating consistent happiness and coping with the less pleasant reality many of us face on a daily basis.

Buenos Aires was made for Little Treat Culture™️. Cafés on every corner! Sugary confections high and low! No rush to get anywhere and plenty of people who will enable your tardiness! Sign me up!!!!!!!

Without further ado, if you need little treat inspo (you know, to stave off the nihlism), read on and go wild, baby.

Buenos Aires & Her Little Treats

Where to go when you need to pat yourself on the back, lift your mood without breaking the bank, or simply add a bit of indulgence to your errand run.

⚡ Sanguche de Miga from Dos Escudos

When I leave this earthly plane, please lay me to rest on a bed of sanguches de miga. These classic tea sandwiches, served so delightfully without the crust, can cure everything from a hangover to a broken heart. The humble miga will be there for you, no matter what, always there to lend a pillowy hand (and with just enough mayonnaise).

Of course, not all migas are created equal. Loyalists and connoisseurs will pledge allegiance to one of the myriad panaderías around town, shutting you down when you try to explain why your favorite should in fact be their favorite. But! Since this is my newsletter, you don’t have a choice. My favorite - and the Ultimate Best Sanguche de Miga™️ in Buenos Aires - comes from Dos Escudos.

Located in Recoleta (naturally), Dos Escudos knows what they’re doing. End of discussion. It’s always a zoo in there, though it’s a controlled chaos, a clear method to the madness. I love it, man. Just be careful; those old ladies might look meek, but they will stop at nothing to get their medio kilo de facturas in time for la hora del té at Teresa’s semi-piso over on Rodriguez Peña y Alvear.

I’m a woman of simple tastes. Truly, it doesn’t take much. My go-to miga choices rotate between turkey with tomato; ham, hardboiled egg, and green olives; and chicken with celery (when I’m feeling wild).

Now go forth and treat yourself to a miga moment. You’ve earned it.

Dos Escudos - Montevideo y Quintana - Recoleta

⚡ Funky Flat from La Ventana de Anafe

Take your little treat experience to the next level with a sunny spot in leafy-green neighborhood and more hipsters per square meter than should be legally permitted.

The specialty coffee boom in recent years has transformed the BA sidewalk scene, and now we’re spoiled for choice when it comes to picking the perfect place to post up with a dogeared copy of something obscure (but not too obscure, lest passersby be unable to properly register our cool factor).

When I find myself roaming the far-flung lands of Colegiales - one of the city’s most beautiful barrios - on a Saturday afternoon, there’s typically just one thing on my mind: getting a funky flat from la Ventana de Anafe.

This coffee window might look unassuming, but it packs a punch. After all, it’s an extension of Michelin-recognized Anafe located right next door, and its pastries are just as delicious as anything on the restaurant’s more formal dessert menu.

I’m not too particular about my coffee, nor am I a snob about things like temperature and foam and glossy finishes or whatever. But when I had my first refreshing sip of that cool, cardamom-infused elixir, I was immediately sold. It’s familiar enough to be something you could drink semi-regularly, but enough of a deviation from the routine to feel like a certified special treat.

And there you have it! Girls just want to have funky flats (with a side of basic human rights).

La Ventana de Anafe - Virrey Avilés 3236 - Colegiales

⚡ Mint Chocolate Chip Cucurucho from Helados Italia

Buenos Aires: Land of Milk & Honey — and Ice Cream. I don’t know if I’d have been able to last these 17 years if it weren’t for the immediate access to an heladería that this city offers. It’s truly a thing of beauty.

One of my first memories of porteño life: I was living in Saavedra at my ex’s parents’ apartment (shout-out to Pato and Guri). We’re seated around the kitchen table, eating milanesas and watching Bailando por un Sueño, as was customary in 2007.

When it came time for dessert, everyone ordered their own personal ¼ kilo of ice cream, which I found extremely delightful. Why isn’t this a thing in the U.S.? At that point, Argentina had me sold. You can get ice cream delivered here until like 2am! Do you understand how incredible that is? I don’t think you do!

Sometimes, however, you find yourself out and about on the mean streets and in need of something to take the edge off. Maybe it’s just too damn hot for anything else. Maybe you’re a little hormonal. Maybe you just want to remind yourself that you’re an adult and if you want ice cream for lunch, damn it, you can.

Helados Italia is one of my neighborhood faves due in part to its cool neon signage, wavy bench sidewalk seating, and retro roots (it was founded in 1972, after all). They make a mean sambayón and are one of the few ice cream spots to have coffee flavor on the menu. For that, and so much more, we have no choice but to stan.

Anyway, did you know that mint chocolate chip is one of the most divisive topics of Argentine culture? I’m not even joking. Grown adults will have full-on meltdowns if you order it, god forbid you contaminate the rest of the kilo. It’s weird and hilarious, mostly because I love menta granizada and will not make any apology for it.

There’s nothing like a little mint chocolate chip moment to offer a bit of respite from a crappy day/week/existence. It’s rich, it’s refreshing, it’s a one-way ticket on the nostalgia train back to the hot summer nights of my childhood. The best part? No one will fight me for a taste.

Helados Italia - Juncal 1760 - Recoleta

⚡ Pikachu Empanada from La Cocina

God knew what she was doing when she invented the empanada. Not only is it the perfect comfort food, it’s an ideal vehicle for all of the hot sauces taking up 85% of my fridge real estate. Empanadas never fail to save the day, and like pizza, they’re still good even when they’re kinda bad.

What’s funny to me, though, is the apparent lack of variety and innovation when it comes to empanada fillings. Most places stick with the standard: carne (picante, cortada a cuchillo), pollo, jamón y queso, and the misleading verdura - which is really just chard with bechamel, no other vegetables in sight. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a carne picante girl until I die, but sometimes I think it’d be nice to switch it up, even just a little bit.

La Cocina is another place imprinted into my early porteño memories. I’d gotten my first job at a study abroad company and was ready to take Buenos Aires by storm. I lived in a nondescript studio apartment with a rooftop pool I rarely used and still enjoyed the concept of commuting to an office every day.

It’s a tiny space, only slightly bigger than what one might describe as a “hole in the wall,” but just barely. Vintage knick-knacks and random posters cover the walls and Bob Marley flows through the speakers most of the time, which feels a bit off-brand considering the place sells empanadas catamarqueñas.

Back in 2008, one empanada would only set you back something around 5 pesos, at the time that an above-market price. The first time I tried a pikachu empanada, I felt like I’d seen the Promised Land. Or something like that. I just knew that this mixture of spicy caramelized onion, gooey cheese, and dreamy dough, all baked to perfection, was all I needed in this life. On a meager budget and with my paltry wages, I still found a way to carve out space to fill the pikachu-sized hole in my heart. Zero regrets.

La Cocina - Av. Pueyrredón 1508 - Barrio Norte

⚡ Fried Chicken Sandwich from BeLike Time

I almost didn’t include this one, but quickly came to my senses since gatekeeping is for assholes and if this restaurant were ever to go out of business due to lack of clientele, I’d take to my bed for approximately 15 business days.

There’s something about a perfectly-done fried chicken sandwich that just hits the spot, you know? One that isn’t too big, too greasy, or too drenched in toppings/weird stuff. Just a simple, straightforward, and slightly spicy morsel of pollo paradise.

I’m not much of a fast food eater, and a fried chicken sammie in theory feels a little indulgent, but that also might because I was raised by an almond mom (love you, Deb). The magic of BeLike Time is that you aren’t bogged down by unnecessary bells and whistles that lead to belly aches or regret.

I can’t remember how I heard about BeLike Time, but I’m pretty sure some random person on Twitter tipped me off. Located in Barrio Chino (where else?) BeLike Time is such a bizarre experience. I mean let’s start with the name. What does it mean? What is it supposed to mean? A mystery for our time, that’s for sure.

The locale itself is a weathered Pinterest fever dream, outfitted in pastel colors and printouts of the “Live, Laugh, Love” variety. Shaggy-haired Chinese teens loiter at the entrance, chain-smoking while they watch videos on their phones. It’s clearly not winning a prize for ambiance, but that’s not why you’re there anyway.

Made fresh to order, the spicy fried chicken sandwich is just so damn good. There’s really not much else to say about it. In fact, it’s probably a good thing BeLike Time isn’t closer to my house, because I’d find myself there more often than not. And that might take a little bit of the magic away, since the whole point of the exercise is to end up there almost as if by accident.

BeLike Time - Mendoza 1575 - Belgrano

Now that I’ve finally finished this edition of the newsletter, you know what I could use? I’ll give you a guess.

See you soon,

Paige

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