Here's the beef

Ruth Bader Ginsburg and the other 8 judges have begun the new years session and have started tackling the agenda. HOW EXCITING. More to come.

I left off from Calafate and headed back home to Buenos Aires for a few days.

• Bought some shoes
• Stepped on a nail, it bled
• Ate an amazing dinner at la Rosa Negra
• Went out with mix of argentine and american friends... got buzzed, rode around, had lots of laughs.
• Then, we flew to Mar Del Plata

The plane was late of course... but this time due to weather. It was rainy and windy. The plane ride was actually fun though. Bumpy throughout... I sorta feel thats what flying should be like. Its amazing most flights are that smoooth.

Little interruption, I think i'm staring at Miss Argentina right now as I right this in the hotel lobby of the Costa Galana. She wants me.

Back to Mar del Plata (MdP) and a brief history lesson. You won't find any tourism guides that urge you to go to MdP because there is nothing truly amazing about it. The beaches are pleasant but not beautiful. There are no thirlling sights to see, no natural wonders, nor museums that require a viewing once in a lifetime. MdP is close to Buenos Aires (4 hours by car), and its the sort of place Argentines go to vacation for a few days, weeks, or months during the summer.

Its off the beaten path for foreign tourists, and in a way, that is what made MdP pleasant for me this time around. Take all the people and culture of Buenos Aires and move it to a secluded location away from the influence of foreign tourists and corporations and I got to see an undisturbed part of the culture I couldn't get in BA.

In MdP, everyone speaks spanish. Those restaurants that have english menus translate them so poorly it becomes comical. "Bowels" was a translation for chinculines, or what we call tripe. Other than the geriatrics and us Americans, no one ate dinner before 11pm and it wasn't unusual to catch a few diners commencing their meal at 1 am. Partying didn't start till well into the night. In BA you can enter a bar with some life before midnight. In MdP, the bars were empty at 1 am, and wouldn't begin to fill till 3.

Shops took a siesta from 1:30pm to 4pm and stayed open later. Alfajore shops lined streets as if they were Starbucks' sketchy little cousin. The European architecture showed the results of multiple economic slumps. MdP used to be the playground of the rich, but through changes in the government, corruption, and the downfall of a wealthy class it has become a city for the common folk.

Not the most exciting city in the world, but again, its very argentine. Unfortunately, our first full day there was a quite a Quilombo. Rain, and nothing but the rain. A lovely breakfast, didn't to much to disperse the sense of impending boredom a rainy day in MdP would bring. The fam also wasn't too happy with me because I screwed up with the restaurant the previous night (never goto a place called Oceanside... even on long island). They'll get over it. An hour at the gym and a lil idle chit chat led us to dinner at 9 at perhaps my favorite restaurant in the world, "El Palacio del Bife".

Yes, its a palace of the beef. For a beef supremacist like myself, this is my temple, the parrillero my priest, and the meat chilling out around the parilla my collective god. Blasphemy aside, this place is really good. Its been around for as long as I can remember... and the restaurant itself remembers me. I've been going there ever since I could chew. One of my distinct memories as a child was dragging my wooden chair to the front of the grill and climbing on top to watch the parrillero turn white and red into brown and delicious. I'd stare intently with my telescopic glasses and just be content watching them go. When I returned 3 years earlier, the parillero, NAME PLEASE, even remembered me as he was then an apprentince at el Palacio.

Anyway, this time around (actually two times, yes, its that good) I asked questions and stared yet again, this times with a different lens. You can see the pictures at.....

The parilla was split into two sides. The apprentice took the Achuras(morcilla, chorizo, chinculines, mollejas, rincon, and all other organ or non-beef products) as well as the proveleta(whole grilled provolone cheese) and any chicken or brochettes. Sounds like a lot, but the toughest work is done on the meat side, which my buddy has strict control over.

The bife gran palacio, which can be seen at my google picasa site http://picasaweb.google.com/danizylberberg/PalacioDelBife, along with other bife shots, was fuckin huge. It was also delicious. Highly recomneded. Might be worth the trip alone to Argentina and MdP.

Anyway, I'll elaborate on the meal when i FINALLY do my restaurant reviews. I have notes of course.

One of those nights, I forget which, my brother got involved in a Quilombo of his own. The 8 of us, the two fams, where waiting for cabs. There was also another family who later seemed to request a cab too, or so it seemed. Anyway, a green car pulled up, perhaps a fiat or one of those crappy european cars and a man in a white shirt exited. As this family, who was clearly behind us in line for a cab, walked up to the car, my brother decended upon them like an Eagle. His talons was his voice, screaming, "Monica, MONICA," the name for which we gave to the cab company.

Little did bro know, that this car was not a cab, but actually THEIR car. After seeing the lack of cabbage in the area, they decided to take their own car out that night. So the disturbed, and perhaps traumitized family, could only think that this crazy American was trying to hijack their car.

After we wooed him back and told him it was not their car, they got in, distraught, and drove away. Our cab came 5 minutes later. It was not green.

Anyway, I gained a better appreciation for Mar Del Plata this time around. I always hated it because, its not that great a beach town. But it is an Argentine beach town, and it distills argentine culture in a way BA cannot. Def worth a visit if you want to gain perspective on the porteno culture.

Ice breakers on a glacier

In reading a little about the honorable Justice Ginsburg, I read a case called Roper v. Simmons, in where it was decided that the constitution does not allow the execution of people who committed crimes before they turned 18. The interesting thing is that Ginsburg and the majority opinion used foreign sources to make the decision, which was criticized by many republicans. Being in Argentina and traveling round the world, I see that we as Americans do a lot of things right... but we don't do it all right. Some Americans think our constitution should not be subject to the opinions or behaviors of foreign nations. Some Americans are also arrogant. The choice by the majority opinion is a good sign that our government isn't blind to the world, and knows that there is a lot to learn from it.

A very tranquil week came to an insane end last Friday. The remaining family and friends joined the fray in Buenos Aires and life as a relaxed student came to a much needed end. I was too set into a routine, drowning down mates wasting the day away staring into the open sun, preparing for a delicious dinner and a long night out.

I still do all those things, minus the staring. Friday was hectic. After a late Thursday I woke up with 4 hours of sleep, showered, slapped on my 3/4 pants, a pink shirt, argentine crocs, and my big ass sunglasses and headed to the hotel were I was to meet my father paul, my brother jon, as well as our friends Guy, Susan, Darren and Melissa (in descending age order I believe). We met at the hotel, checked them into a dingy apartment style room, and went off to eat. A local stop sustained me with a bife de chorizo and salad, as well as a glass of malbec. Nothing special, but a great preparation for the day ahead.

We headed back home and relaxed for a bit as my father and brother took much needed naps. I entertained myself with my camera and went around photographing my sleeping sibling and father. Sleepy people appear funny on photographs.

Afterwards, we went to a restaurant called La Cabrera Norte (La Cabrera was full, but this was its sister and as good). There we met up with federico's mother, brother and his girlfriend, Virginia, Martin and Virginia. I know, kinda weird to be dating a girl with your mother's same name... Freud is probably experiencing some transference in his grave. We had some fun and it had been a long time since I spoke with Martin. Now that I could actually speak his language it was nice getting to know him. A LOT different than his brother... sort of like I am with mine.

Jon did something amazing and ate steak. The boy eats nothing but chicken cutlet, bagels, and pizza so this was a big move for him. Gonna be disappointing though when he goes back to the states and has that shit we call beef.

Afterwards, the plush's went to bed and I met up with Jessica and Ignacio. Martin drove us along with my broheem to my fav bar, Acabar, which again means to finish, sexually. I explained this to my parents at dinner, in spanish no less. They called me drunk. They were right.

Back on track, we went to Acabar to find it was filled to the brim. Instead, we went to some other place till Federico gave us a call. We met up with him and his friend "Humshuh", nicknamed for his social inabilities. He may have been a looser, but his place in Palermo was pretty sweet and full of alcohol. The four of us, along with fed and diego headed to a club called Kays.

After a drunken ride, we arrived at the Boliche (or club) and proceeded to wait in line. Jess and Ignacio decided to head out early and we arrived inside the club at about 2:45 am. When I said earlier that the party doesn't start till late, I wasn't bullshitting. There was people there, but it didn't start filling up till 3:30, and the massive, bone shaking bass didn't commence till about 4. We met up with some of Diego's nice lookin argentine friends and the party started. I danced terribly, but had a good time, so did my Bro. The drugs were certainly in the air... the smell of dank weed was one clue. But more importantly, you can tell that there were a lot of e-poppin punks lining the walls of this boliche. The massive hint? Sales of water skyrocketed as the night went. I'm not a huge club goer, but I've been to a few, and I've never seen so much water consumed in such shorts amount of time by the same people.

The sweets part of the boliche was its proximity to the coast. It was on the coast in fact. The sunrise for which I'm always a sucker for was sweet and the fun ended at 7 am because my brother was understandably tired.

After a 4 hour nap, i woke up and headed out to meet the fam and friends at Galleria Pacifico. There I saw some shops, saw a drunk guy scream in broken english, and enjoyed the pain of a rasaco. At night we ate another fine meal at Cabana Las Lilas and I went to BED.

The following day we headed to Calafate, for what would be an amazing trip. The flight there was delayed (the flight into BA was delayed, both flights to and from Calafate were delayed, and my flight to Mar Del Plata was delayed as well, I call it a theme). Whoever, we arrived and set ourselves up in a Hotel called Design, which was very nice, but not incredibly designed... irony.

We went to a restaurant in Calafate and I got some Cordero Patagonico (patagonian lamb) and it was fucking delicious. Tender, moist, and crunchy on the skin. Its made by cutting and gutting a lamb in half and then roasting it over an open fire. SOOO GOOOD.

The following day we woke up way to early and headed to a glacier called Perito Moreno. Its one of the only remaining glaciers in patagonia that isn't receding. We took a cab to the bus stop, a bus to the boat stop, and a boat to the foot of the glacier. After a quick hike we arrived at the glacier.

Its tough to describe the sheer size and beauty of the glacier. Purity is certainly one of the words, as the glacier represented some of the most undisturbed nature I've ever seen. The thing was so massive and so giant that a few of us humans did little to cause any problems. There was no trash, no cars, and no power lines.

I posted some pictures on my google thingie, http://picasaweb.google.com/danizylberberg/Calafate. You can just look at them all and see the crystal clear streams that formed in the glacier. The cracks and crevices (our guide pronounced it creVAHHHSS) formed cooool shapes as well as little potable pools of water. And i got to walk on all of it and explore (only a little). We had these spikes on our shoes to walk along the glacier and they helped keep our traction. After this, I have a strong desire to do some ice climbing. Its not too difficult, but amazing and incredibly satisifying. The crunch of slippery ice beneath your feet and the traction you get from the spikes gives you a feeling of ironically strong control.

After a long long hike through the glaciers we got a wonderful surprise. I didn't think the day could get better, but then it did. We walked up to a flat part of the glacier with tables and glasses topped with tumblers, bowls, and 2 bottles of scotch. Our guide took out his pick, shaved some ice into his bowl, then threw crystal clear glacier ice into the group of glasses. Next came the whiskey. I requested a doble and they obliged. The scotch itself might have been just some generic brand, but the glacier ice and the situation elevated it to pure deliciousness. I couldn't have been happier.

That night we had more amazing lamb, roasted int he same way at a restaurant called La Tablita. That cordero patagonico is really something else.

The following day we went on boats to visit the rest of the glaciers and take a hike. A larger boat guided us through the Leche Glacieral, also known as Glacier Milk. The story is as the glacier scrapes against the sides of the lake, it causes minearls to suspend in the water and give it a milk, silvery color. The water is opaque, and I thought I would get some for dairy loving treestump, but unfortunately drinking glacier milk gives you a case of explosive diarrhea. Sorry bud.

The trip around the glaciers was lots of fun, and we got some great views as well as some great pictures. I'll post a lot more soon! I went with the 28-135mm lens while my friend melissa had a 17-75mm lens, so she got some better wide angle shots while I got the close ups.

The following day, our delayed flight departed and we headed back to BA.

El Calafate is el bomb.

poor puppy

In a recent speech to students at Suffolk Law School, Justice Ginsburg mentioned that she "feels all alone on the court" after the departure of the only other female on the court Justice Sandra Day O´Conner. It is tough for me to really understand her sentiments, and many of you will probably say "Dani, you are the worst person to talk about women in the workplace." Perhaps you are right. What if the other 8 justices are like me, making inappropriate comments about whats inside their "briefs" or talking about the "habeus corpus on that one." A hostile workplace it might be!

But I wonder why Justice Ginsburg would go on and say this. A court that has lacked diversity since its inception has managed to protect it quite well. Having more women on the court would be a welcomed victory for females in our country, but I don´t believe it would improve the decisions of the court. After all, Justice should be blind and those large flowing black robes that leave plenty of room to the imagination end up desexualizing our judges.

Now that my obligation is outta the way, time for a STORY. I´m not sure why we never heard about this in the US, but it truly is something to remember.

In one of the barrios of BA, a dog somehow fell off the 13th floor of a building, fatally striking an unassuming woman in the street. That easily makes this story a comic tragedy of modest proportions... but the magnitude of this story borders epic.

A woman crossing the street saw the poor puppy plummet to its fate and did not notice the bus barreling towards her person. She was struck by the bus and dragged a few meters to her death. Sad, yes, but of course, it doesn´t stop there. A man who saw the whole event occur was overcome with whatever, and suffered a massive heart attack. He was pronounced dead on the way to the hospital!

The story left me stunned, but the entire article also added to my stupefication. No information was given about the deceased humans, how their families felt, or what they left behind. The dog received a lot of attention. Apparently the family loved it very much, and even had a large portrait of the dog placed above its mantel. Worst of all, while it could be assumed that the serial killer of a dog died, the article failed to mention this critical fact. STRANGE!

Life in general has been same old same old. I´ve become a beef supremacist, shunning vegetables, grains, and especially dairy products, the scapegoats of the food world (though I do miss scapegoat cheese, mmmmm). Been going out a few times a week, and I´m still seeing some beautiful sunrises.

My mother came in a few days ago and while its a welcomed change, the tranquility my grandmother and I once shared is all but gone. I wake up farther from noon, I achieve activity by lunchtime, and we´ve gone to dinner nightly till midnight. A temporary farwell to days of maté and fruit outside on the deck.

I went to the superbowl accompanied by amanda, catherine, and avery... all UBA students. We went to a bar which I´ll never fail to remember, The Alamo. It had been good to us up until the Saints lost two weeks ago. I unwisely vowed never to return. Breaking the vow was a good idea if just for the fun of feeling like an Estados Unidense for a day.

We ended up finding ourselves with a crew from NYU med school, a bachelor party, a bunch of students, and a few ingelses. The beer and volume were plentiful and so was the fun. We also casually glanced at the game now and then and tipsily taunted bear fans at the bar. I believe one bar leaning Chicago fan with a handlebar stache had a mind to flatten me with his truck driver arms, but I was able to escape with nothing more than a profane yelp. good times.

We´ve been to a few good restaurants over the past few days, and a few so so ones. I decided since I eat out so much, and to boost readership, I´m going to publish a seperate Argentine Food, Restaurant and Wine Blog. Look for it soon.

Other than that, I´ve been doing a fair share of shopping with my mother. At Galleria Pacifica I picked up some much needed sandals. The 2 year old Rainbows I have are still going strong, but smell so gnarly that I needed something to give em a break. What I found were a pair of sandals that are almost "croc-like" in their ugliness as well as their comfort! What makes them argentine is the fact they´re leather, and why not, fits in with my cow supremacy. The sole of the sandal is supportive, but very thin, so I feel all the imperfections and textures of the ground beneath my feet. Walking on rocks gives me accupunctural orgasms that I wouldn´t dare explain.

I also picked up a pair of 3/4 pants, which are really capri´s but it sounds less femenine if I say 3/4. Everyone wears them here, so its coo. I also picked up a pair of oversized sunglasses and a linen sports coat in my other ventures.

We also hit up Palermo Soho for a lunch and a walk around. Palermo Soho is sort of like New York´s Soho with trendy shops and restaurants as well as some strange shops too. My favorite was a soap shop that had unbelievable scents in it. Everything from Vanilla, to coconut, to gardenia, to marijuana scented soaps makes me want to visit them again, and perhaps even marry the cute soaponista that worked there. The best part of Palermo Soho is the absence of skyscrapers, giving this trendy little barrio a down to earth feel.

Tata for now.