02x01 - Buenos Aires, Argentina

[bunniefuu]

We start with the secret weapon.

You see,

in Argentina, we like cheese a lot.

We love cheese.

A lot of cheese.

So, my secret weapon...

is the "mozzarella effect,"

with the potato tortilla.

When I cut it and lift it up,

the feeling is like...

boom!

And people clap.

And to see their faces is, like,

wow!

It makes me feel like a rock star.

People from Buenos Aires
are very passionate.

We’re very passionate about everything.

About soccer games...

about tango...

about politics...

Legalize it!

...in our discussions...

in our opinions.

We’re more similar to Europe

than we are to other
Latin American countries.

There aren’t many native people.

That population was

almost decimated in the Spanish conquest.

What remained was the culture
of the immigrants.

The European influence in Buenos Aires
can be seen in the architecture,

in the culture, in the art, in the music,

and especially in the food.

If we make a list

of the most important street foods
of Buenos Aires,

first we’d have to put the meat.

Second, meat.

Third, meat.

Then choripán.

Then we could add milanesa,

pizza,

empanadas,

and the tortilla.

And the best kept secret in the city

is the stuffed tortilla

at Las Chicas de las Tres
in the Central Market.

Let’s see, fingers crossed.

Please, God.

Beautiful.

CENTRAL MARKET OF BUENOS AIRES

PAVILION 3

-What’s up, Pato?
-What are you doing, honey?

-What’s up, babe?
-How are the tomatoes?

Are they pretty?

-The best.
-Let's see.

-As always.
-I want really red ones.

-Let's see.
-The ones the other day were whitish.

You didn’t buy them from me.
Who did you buy from?

-I don't kiss and tell.
-You bought them from the other side.

I start every day thinking about
what I’m going to make.

-Excellent, good.
-The best, as always.

For the tortilla,
what do you recommend for frying?

Black potato is the best.

I want to be the best at what I do,

because the Market deserves the best.

Thanks, Pato.
Save me a vegetable empanada.

Bye, my love. See you later.

It looks like I’m drunk.

Hi, Eze.

Everything good?

The Central Market is part of my DNA.

-Good thing I quit smoking, huh?
-Luckily.

I live and breathe the market.

-It's ready.
-Perfect.

I’m going to open because...

as usual--

-Late?
-I’m running late.

The Central Market is a place where

thousands of people visit every day.

The most important chefs of the country,

multi-millionaire businessmen,

and working-class people.

From the highest social class
to the lowest.

And Las Chicas de las Tres
is the meeting point for everyone.

We say, “Welcome to our table."

When my customers ask me,
“Why don’t you have kids?”

I reply,

“You’re my kids! And you’re very spoiled.”

THE MEZZETTA PIZZERIA

Almost everyone in Buenos Aires

has an Italian family member
in their family tree.

The strong migratory wave from Italy

became the foundation of Buenos Aires.

The Italian immigrants brought
different types of pizza.

And, years later, around 1893,

the fugazzeta was invented
in Buenos Aires.

The fugazzeta

is a big pizza.

The cheese must be almost as thick
as the dough.

And if one wants to know where to eat
the best pizzas in Buenos Aires,

they must look for the places filled
with taxis at the door.

They’re the ones who know where
you can eat well and for cheap.

And taxi drivers always go to La Mezzetta.

It’s a pizza place that never changed
with the passing of time.

People came to work there
and stayed their whole lives.

I’ve been working here for 57 years.

When I’m at home,

I’m nervous and irritated
because I miss being here.

I’m already retired,

but I was allowed
to continue working here.

It’s a reward, a gift they gave me.

The fugazzeta

is our w*r horse.

It’s a stuffed pizza.

It has a cover and a base,

where mozzarella is added,
approximately 1,5 kilograms...

and then it has onions on top.

We make 100 every day.

My favorite food is pizza.

I eat pizza every day.

I don’t get bored of it.

All set?

I need to get up. My goodness.

We’re running way behind.

Hi, Huguito.

I spent a large part of my childhood
in this wonderful place,

the Central Market.

My parents got this shop
when I was little.

I would pretend to cook with my dad.

He would let me play at cooking with him
in the kitchen.

At that time, women weren’t trained
for that sort of thing.

But I considered myself a rebel.

If there was something boys could do
that girls couldn’t,

I really wanted to do it.

One day, when I was 14,

My family was planning an asado BBQ.

The asado was a man’s thing.

Girls made the salad, set the table,
or do girl things.

That day was my time to shine.

I woke up the earliest

and decided to start the asado myself.

I had never lit a fire.
I had never cooked.

The result was a disaster.
I did everything wrong.

My brother woke up and said,

“I thought I had a sister, not a brother!”

In that moment I could have said,

“I’ll never touch a grill again.”

But no.

After that experience,

I was determined to learn how to cook.

The city of Buenos Aires is different
from the provinces of Argentina.

But the Mataderos Fair

is a bit like having the whole country

symbolized in one very small place.

All the provinces are represented there

with their music, culture, and cuisine.

It’s a great place to taste
the flavors of Argentina...

especially the fried beef turnovers.

Ham and cheese empanadas, sir!

Empanadas are the typical street food
of Argentina.

My empanada is made with chopped beef,
onion, bell pepper,

salt, pepper, a little bit of oregano.

Cumin is crucial in the empanada.

Each province has its own recipe
for empanadas,

and they all say that theirs are the best.

I’m from Tucumán,

and the most popular empanadas
at the Mataderos Fair

are from Tucumán.

I started my stall 21 years ago

with only a small grill.

And now I have two stalls
which are managed by my sons.

We’re, like, a fair family.

The fair is a way of life for us.

For all of us from the province
who like returning to their roots,

we come here to the fair.

It’s, like, a day in the countryside
for us.

When I was a teenager,

being a cook was not a career choice.

It wasn't cool.

I decided to go to college,

but at that time,
the shop wasn’t doing well.

My dad and brother made the sad decision

to sell the shop.

I felt desperate because
I knew that the shop had a future.

So I said that we wouldn't be selling it.

I chose to drop out of college
to look after the shop.

We still did things my dad’s way.

Everything I offered was very basic,

only pizza or empanadas.

I realized that people eat first
with their eyes,

then with their mouths,
and then their hearts.

So, the color was missing.

The Central Market always offered

a colorful range of high-quality products

that any first-rate cook

would love to have at arm’s reach.

I just open a door,

walk two meters,

and I have any product I want.

But we weren’t taking advantage of it.

We had...

gold, and we were making sand.

I'll follow you, you're my life!

I'll always support you!

We're number one in Argentina!

No matter where you go!

Soccer is the greatest Argentine passion.

When we go to the stadium,

we feel an adrenaline rush.

We live every moment of that game

with an intensity that’s unprecedented.

Illogical!

I will follow you, you're my life!

Let's go, Acadé, let's win!

Goal!

So incredible!

At every soccer game,

one eats a choripán.

Where there’s people, there’s choripán.

It’s the heart of street food.

The choripán is the perfect summary
of Argentine street food.

The meat, the barbecue,
the passion for soccer,

it's all represented there

in a piece of pork meat,
between two pieces of bread,

and, at most, a bit of chimichurri.

You can’t add anything else on top.

The rest of the sauces
are completely forbidden.

Choripán is the number one

street food that has ever been
in Argentina.

Anybody can be a griller,

but I consider myself a choripán chef.

In 2001, I started culinary school.

But then came the economic crisis.

Everything was expensive.

I lost my job. I was desperate.

One Sunday,
I saw people leaving the stadium

with a choripán in their hands.

I said, “That’s my way out.”

So I began my small enterprise

in order to support my family.

Hamburgers, chori and soda!

Chori and hamburger!

The first day I started the grill,

I felt alive again.

I felt useful, with a purpose.

Because, when visiting the stadium,

if you didn’t eat choripán,
you were never there.

-Pato!
-Go!

Come on, let's go.

Ten years ago,

my shop was my whole life.

People were calling it “Lo de Pato.”

There. Go!

Yes!

But I didn’t feel happy.

I was constantly stressed,

and I felt alone.

Until one ordinary day

when I went to play football.

And, at one point,

a girl and I both went after
the same ball, and--

-Let's go, Pato!
-Boom!

At that moment everything changed.

Jackass!

-You son of a b*tch!
-It wasn’t me! I kicked the ball!

We both went for the ball,

I tackled her, and she went flying.

She ended up on top of me like this,

and I told her, “Hello, what’s up?”

“Hi, I’m Pato.”
“Romi, nice to meet you.”

Soon after that, our love began.

Love was born.

I was happy.

But I was suffering
because I was hiding from my family.

When I told my parents that
I’d fallen in love with a woman…

Wow, that was hard.

So hard for everyone.

My mom cried, and I cried.

But in their own way, my family let me be.

Life united Romi and I as a couple.

And...

I realized that we’re a very good duo,
a very good team.

So I asked her

to come work with me in the shop.

Good morning.

Romi came
from a completely different world.

She started her work life
in a fast-food chain

where they have high demands,

where everything is very precise.

At Pato’s Place, it wasn’t like that.

-Hi.
-Hello.

-Can you tie it?
-Yes.

Good morning.

When Romi started working with me,

instantly...

with her hawk-eye,

she told me there were things
that were bad for the business.

For example,

people used to serve themselves.

And Romi told me, “No!”

“It’s important that the food
is hygienic.”

Another bad habit I had was selling
on credit.

Wait a minute, it's acting up.
Here it comes.

Customers would say,

“Pato, put it on my tab.
I’ll pay you later.”

I was watching, thinking, “No!”

Pato was totally overwhelmed...

It’s just a bit chaotic today, sorry.

...and there was no order.

Potato ball, ham and cheese, cup.

Thank you.

Romi imposed rules.

And the customers’ reaction
was very negative.

I’d say, “Hello, what’s up? How are you?”

They’d ignore me and say, “Hey, Pato!”

They didn’t like Romi,

and they avoided her.

They were very used to my attention.

-Guys, how are you? What can I get you?
-Stay there, Romi,

Stay there. Please, finish the beef ones
that we need.

-Alright.
-I'll be here with the boys.

One day, a customer told me,

“She needs to go or she will ruin you.”

I didn’t know how to resolve it.

I got mad a lot and would say to Pato,

“Won’t you defend me? Won’t you help me?”

But I couldn’t defend her
because I didn't want

to speak badly to my customers.

It was a lack of respect.

And I told her, “All right, Pato. Goodbye.

Keep your clients, your business.
I’ll leave.”

Hearing that was like a dagger
to my stomach.

That was a breaking point for me.

I had to stand up and say, “No."

I had to defend her...

and defend myself.

I talked a lot with Romi
and the customers,

and things improved tremendously.

Then, finally,

I could leave the counter alone

and devote myself to the kitchen.

I said, “Lets make gold with everything
the market offers.”

I started coming up with new ideas.

Really searching for ways to turn
something simple

into something attractive and better.

Beautiful olives.

I was perfecting my technique.

Then the potato tortilla was born.

Not just a potato tortilla
you could find anywhere,

I wanted it to be
a special potato tortilla.

I made it with ham and cheese.

Very Argentine.

I started to realize
that things were working,

when every time I looked at the bar,

there was a row of clients

and another line behind them waiting.

After all of that,

the best chefs in Buenos Aires
started coming in.

All of us chefs come
to the market to shop.

We’d always run into each other and say,

“Have you tried the tortillas?”

It became a must do to go to the market
to eat tortillas.

-I can't stop eating it.
-That's terrible!

We’re super fans.
Super fans of the tortilla.

One day, Romi and I were listening
to the radio.

A very important chef in our country,

Narda Lepes,

said, “You have to go to this place.

I think it’s called Las Chicas,”
she said.

No way!

When she spoke of my tortilla,
she touched her face.

I was like, “My God.” I started crying.

I was so emotional, I cried.

I said,

"If she knows us by that name,

then sure, that’s it.

Maybe it should be.”

Lo de Pato is done.

Now we are Las Chicas de la Tres.

The Argentine passion runs in our veins,

in our DNA.

We’re not people who can

hide our roar.

My family wants me to stop working,

but as long as I want to get up
at 5AM every day,

I’ll keep working.

That’s what keeps me alive!

I dream about resuming my chef’s studies

and having my own restaurant.

The goals I’ve set,
they’re going to cost me a bit.

But I know I’ll make it.
I know I’ll get there.

We have a strong passion
for celebrating

our culture.

My mom taught me how to make everything.

So cooking Tucumán fried beef turnovers
is a way of connecting to my culture,

to my hometown,
traditionally and emotionally.

-Here, Romi!
-Thanks.

Get the drink
and start making all the boxes.

Las Chicas achieved something
very special,

which is combining comfort food

with a gourmet touch.

And that’s a characteristic
of the new Argentine street food.

It’s testing the limits,

taking a flavor that’s known

and adding an element of surprise.

I still try to innovate every day.

Now we have two options:

tortilla with guilt

and tortilla without guilt,

for people who have to put on a swimsuit.

-How can I help you?
-Can you hand me a mold, please?

-Tortilla?
-For a veggie tortilla.

Nowadays, Romi and I complement
each other very well in the business.

Between the two of us, we dance.

She dances at her rhythm, I dance at mine.

-Grated cheese, Romi, have you seen it?
-I left it on the table.

Oh, okay, great.

After seeing all the results
from everything we did together,

I think now I am part of the family
of the Central Market.

-Have a nice day, see you tomorrow.
-See you tomorrow.

-Yes.
-Bye, Romi.

Bye, love. See you. Thanks.

They adopted me.

I feel that the market and I,

we couldn’t live without each other.

I feel that I need it and it needs me.

It can’t get rid of me. Never.

And I’ll continue cooking
until the day I die...

-Look, Puri.
-Look.

...in this wonderful place...

Oh how cute!

...the Central Market.

-How’s that?
-Yes, it looks good. Is it done?

-I’ll make you try a bit off the top.
-No.

-I wanna try it when we’re at the table.
-Yes, I can give you some off the top.

Verdict?

-Is it done?
-It's done. Ready.

Hello.

-Hi, girls, how are you?
-How are you?

-Good?
-Always at your job.

Daddy! You’re just in time.

-How many are we?
-Two, four, six, seven, eight?

Yes.

When I was little,
I didn’t know how to barbecue.

It took me a long time to learn…

Let’s go!

I’m coming.

...but I think I achieved it.

-These chorizos are very good.
-They're delicious.

Up to this day,

every time I’m told “No,” I say, “Yes!”

For me, nothing is impossible.

And now, when our family gets together,

I am the one barbecuing.

-I have water!
-Cheers!

-With the water, twice.
-Oh, okay.

The eyes. Look in the eyes, okay?

Oh, so another time?

-In the eyes.
-In the eyes.

-Cheers!
-Cheers!