In Mendoza we had back to back asados (asado, noun - typically a sequence of (an absurb amount of) meats & wine presented by the asador (grill-man)).
|Just the beginning|
(but a beginning of brie, blue cheese,
and salami is always a good start)
|That's a fancy asado.|
This was a fantastic asado. But it was a fancy, sit-down, waiter-service kind of meal. Not that there is anything wrong with that. If you have the opportunity to take an asado & wine tasting at Pulenta Estates, you would be a damned fool to pass it up. Kudos to Mike & Celeste of Hostel Lao for setting it up and insisting that we join them for this terrific day. It was great.
When you know its been a good asado...
|Is that four glasses for the Meshkovs? Could be.|
The next day we scheduled a 10:30 AM start (knowing that the Pulenta tasting was the day before) for an
|That's where we are riding?!?|
clay oven and grill in which he would prepare our Asado.** Because an Asado takes time to prepare (if there is no asador faithfully working while you tour the winery) while Diego set the table, collected wood, and began making a fire Jesse and I began drinking the first bottle of wine.*** Diego then prepared and served us delicious homemade bread, some cheese and a giant plate of olives (good for J, bad for me). We relaxed, drank more wine and waited for the grill to reach a proper cooking temperature.
|Dream meal. For sure.|
|Fat & happy - thankfully the horses knew the way home.|
* A photo of the meat from Pulenta Estates is missing because there may have been a bit of feeding frenzy once the beef was served.
** In the final stretch up to the campsite Diego encouraged me to let Toki run, so I gave him a half-hearted “hee-yah” and gentle kick hoping to break only into a trot (despite the possible pain to my butt and “package” (as Diego referred to my ‘private parts’ in his multiple inquiries as to our comfort and well-being)). Alas, despite my lackluster call to action, Toki knew it was almost breaktime and bolted into a full gallop. It was exhilarating. That horse was going so fast, it was all I could to just to hold on. If was like riding a wave-runner at full throttle, but without anyway to control your speed, direction, or avoid low-hanging branches...
*** Don’t worry mom. We offered to help multiple times but each time was firmly refused. As the (paying) guests we were told the only thing we could do was sit, relax, and enjoy the afternoon – my type of job.