Anthony Bourdain: Parts Unknown (2013–2018): Season 8, Episode 8 - Buenos Aires - full transcript
Bourdain's trip to meat-centric Buenos Aires features a meal at famous local spot, Don Carlito's, and an after-hours soccer match.
♪ ♪
So I'm trying to
understand Buenos Aires,
but I've only got a week.
♪ ♪
♪ I took a walk through this ♪
♪ Beautiful world ♪
♪ Felt the cool rain ♪
♪ On my shoulder ♪
♪ Found something good ♪
♪ In this beautiful world ♪
♪ I felt the rain
getting colder ♪
♪ Sha la, la, la, la ♪
♪ Sha la, la, la, la, la ♪
♪ Sha la, la, la, la ♪
♪ Sha la, la, la, la, la ♪
♪ ♪
Kind of amazing they
work, you know?
I'm still, like, I look at
a plane and I'm figuring...
I understand scientifically
how they fly,
but it doesn't look
like it should work.
No, it doesn't.
That's a big hunk of metal.
Yeah.
And who are these people?
They're waiting for
friends to arrive or no?
They're just here
looking at planes.
Yes, it's popular.
You come here, and you watch a
couple of planes come and go.
The whole family.
Yeah.
♪ ♪
Buenos Aires, capital
of Argentina,
second largest country
in South America.
It's got a quirky, unique
character all its own.
It looks like no other place,
and it feels unlike any other.
♪ ♪
Oh, silence.
Yeah, right?
It's very pretty here.
I mean, it's really beautiful.
I'm glad I came in the summer.
It's really quiet.
It's got sort of
a mournful, sad,
sweet quality that I like.
Fits with the architecture.
♪ ♪
Where does everybody go?
Like now, where is everybody?
The city's empty.
The month of January, everyone's
gone for the holidays.
January and February are
the hottest months here,
middle of summer
and most Porteños
who can afford it get out
of town to cooler climes.
They go to Uruguay
or Mar del Plata,
which our beach, or to
Patagonia or to the north.
- I have a home in Patagonia.
- Uh-huh.
Far away from any restaurant.
It has no internet, no
electricity, no phone.
I mean, it's a little
anti-social, for a guy
who's a communicator...
You're all over television.
Yeah, I... I'm not very social.
Chef-Restaurateur
Francis Mallmann
is one of the biggest and
most influential figures
in Latin American
gastronomy, a TV star,
head of a restaurant empire,
and now in middle age,
gives delightfully few shits
about anything unimportant.
This is a restaurant I love.
Carlitos.
He serves you whatever he has.
There's no menu.
♪ ♪
Of all the places in the world
that Francis Mallmann
can eat and has eaten,
it's this place he
wanted to take me to,
Bodegón Don Carlitos.
It's him and his
wife in the kitchen
with the two daughters.
There's nobody else, and they've
been open for 45 years.
An unassuming family-run joint
across from the soccer stadium.
So who are the
customers ordinarily?
You... you know, he
doesn't have prices.
It's fun because you see
very simple people,
and if you look sort of
wealthy and elegant,
you will get a big
check, and if not,
you will get a small check.
That's the way it works.
- Ah, this is Carlitos.
- Carlitos.
How do you do, sir?
How are you?
Welcome.
Thank you.
Oh, beautiful.
I will have this guy.
There are gods here besides
tango and football,
or soccer, as we call it.
There is beef.
Porteños, as residents of
Buenos Aires are called,
like beef and meat in general,
but particularly beef.
That's fantastic.
Man, I love this place already.
Yes, I love meat.
I eat meat every day.
The morcilla.
Now that's exciting.
This is one of my
favorite things on Earth.
Boudin.
Love it.
♪ ♪
Now, it's a proud country.
I mean, one of the stereotypes
is that Argentines
are too proud, that they're... and
full of themselves.
Vain, proud.
If this is so, why
is psychotherapy
so huge in this country?
I mean, this is the
kingdom of doubt.
You know, my kids have
been to the shrink
since they're eight
for a year or two
because, you know,
go to the shrink
and talk to someone
who you don't know.
With whom you can say
whatever you want.
I did it myself a couple
of years when I was 30.
I mean, it's an
extraordinary thing
because in many cultures
to confess that you need
to even confide in someone is
seen as a sign of weakness.
Here everybody does it and
in no way frown upon it.
Mm-hmm.
It's kind of cool, 'cause
I could... I really,
I could use somebody that I... I
need somebody to talk to.
Have you ever done it?
Um...
I was a teenager and my parents
caught me with drugs and
as part of the deal
to stay out of, uh...
Stay out of trouble,
I saw a therapist briefly.
Mm-hmm.
Meet Marianna, my therapist.
Argentina has the
distinction of being home
to more headshrinkers per
capita than anywhere else
in the world.
So, Tony, what brought you here?
What brought me here?
Well, things have been happening,
like I will find myself
in an airport, for
instance, and I'll order
an airport hamburger.
It's an insignificant thing.
It's a small thing.
It's a hamburger.
- Yeah.
- But it's not a good one.
Suddenly I look
at the hamburger,
and I find myself in a
spiral of depression.
Yes.
That can last for days.
George Orwell said something
that really upset me
because he talked
about human beings
are essentially tubes
into which we shove food.
Mm-hmm.
And this is my job.
I travel around the world
with these people,
and... and they turn
on the cameras,
and then for a certain
period of time,
my job is to shove
food into my face.
And... And what's
wrong with that?
Um... You have to eat.
♪ ♪
Wow, look at that.
They don't just mess
around here, right?
It's beautiful.
Something... It's perfect food.
Wow. I mean, it's really
unnecessarily delicious.
What kind of food is this?
Where is it rooted?
Between Italy and
Spain, and then a bit
of the gaucho too, with the
meat and the way he cooks it.
'Cause La Boca, this
neighborhood, is very Italian.
They say that this is
where tango was born,
in this little street,
two blocks away here
called Caminito.
♪ ♪
And where does that
come from emotionally?
The need for tango.
Why here?
Tango is extremely sad.
It's about love, about despair.
It's about poverty, and
the dance, I think,
is one of the most elegant
dances in the world.
You know, they barely move,
and... and suddenly, they stop.
When they stop, you know, you
tremble because you feel
that the man is sort of...
inside of her almost,
and then he goes on.
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
It's crushingly lonely.
I travel over 200 days a year.
♪ ♪
So I had this dream again
that I've had as long
as I can remember.
I'm stuck in a vast,
old Victorian hotel
with endless rooms and hallways,
trying to check out but I can't.
♪ ♪
I spend a lot of time in hotels,
but this one is menacing
because I just can't leave it.
♪ ♪
And then there's another
part to this dream always,
where I'm trying to go home,
but I can't quite
remember where that is.
Hm, are you alone?
I'm alone in this dream, yes.
♪ ♪
In my heart, what I
like of Buenos Aires
and Argentina is that we
take time to sit down
and have lunch every day.
Tony.
Hungry?
Yeah, I'm always hungry.
And we finish lunch, and
we stay at the table
for one hour more
with our friends.
And then they go to work
or they have a siesta.
Then nap.
And then a nap.
Very important.
Totally, I'm on board with that.
♪ ♪
On the outskirts of town in
the roaring summer heat,
the fires still burn hot.
The tempting miasma of meat
fills the mid-afternoon air.
On the parrilla, many parts
of once-living things sizzle
and char for the pleasure
of those Porteños
who remain in town, like
Marianna, my new therapist.
Wow, what?
Wow.
Wow.
I don't think that's enough.
Meat is king, and fire,
and we shall go hard
in honoring the flame.
My God, I don't know where
to attack this first.
All of this, we call it achuras.
Achuras.
- Kidney...
- Right.
...sausage, which is
chorizo, black sausage,
which is morcilla here.
Mmm.
And this is the famous
intestine, right?
Yes.
After a week or two
here, even confirmed
carnivores like myself
will fall to their knees
praying for a vegetable.
So is this normal, like,
lunch for people?
Yes. Uh-hmm.
Tell me, what did you do during
your time in Buenos Aires?
Ate a lot of meat.
Yes.
Do you have any vegetables
in this country at all?
You know, there are a lot
of vegetarian people here.
Yeah right.
And they are famished.
Chicken.
Chicken is a
vegetable, isn't it?
Why is therapy so
big in Argentina?
Because, I mean, the country
also has this gaucho tradition,
a very macho tradition.
Yes, but that's what
therapy is for.
They can do it there.
They can? So it's okay?
Yeah, it is okay.
See, as New Yorkers, we
tell each other every...
You tell strangers all
of your problems.
We overshare.
Well, people here
don't overshare.
No.
I feel like Quasimodo, -the
Hunchback of Notre Dame.
Yeah?
If he stayed in nice
hotel suites with high
thread-count sheets,
that would be me.
I feel kind of like a freak,
and I feel very isolated.
I communicate for a
living, but I'm terrible
at communicating with
people I care about.
I'm good with my daughter.
An eight-year-old
is about my level
of communication skills,
so that works out.
Oh, my God.
That was just the
vegetable course.
Yes.
Later, I'm gonna have a nap.
That would be a Porteño thing to do?
Like after...
A nap? It's more...
It's much more...
It's more like people
from the provinces...
- From the...
- Right. Well, that's me.
I'm a country... no,
I'm not really...
I'm not a country boy actually.
No, you're a city boy.
I'm a city boy, but
I do like naps.
So regular people,
all summer long
you're stuck in Buenos
Aires, what do you do?
Go for a barbecue.
Go out for dinner.
♪ ♪
We have a lot of shows
and concerts and music.
♪ No, no, no, no, no, no, no ♪
So what's the best season, the
best time of year for you?
The best money, the
best business.
Hot season in the summer.
- In the summer?
- In the summer, yeah, yeah.
- Now?
- Now, yeah, yeah, yeah.
'Cause it's tourists.
European people of the north,
from the States, Canada.
It's cold now.
They come into the summer.
Right.
All hail the waiter,
the career-server,
that great disappearing
species of proud,
well-trained specialists.
Members of the service industry
who trace their roots back
to the great hotels of Europe
and beyond into history.
Those who remain like this
man, Mario, we salute you.
So how many years
in the dining room?
A lot?
Yeah. I start in...
When I was 17-years-old
in a restaurant.
Seventeen?
Seventeen, yes.
The people who work in a kitchen
one type of personality.
The people in the
dining room, you need
to be more sociable.
I like very much to
speak with all people
- -from the whole world.
- Uh-hmm.
And I speak a little
English, German.
I speak German very well,
Italian, Portuguese.
A friend of mine who's
worked in the business
a long time, he tells
me whenever a man comes
into the restaurant with
a woman, they never say,
"Oh, mister, so good
to see you again."
No, no, no.
No, no, no, no.
You don't know if the
woman is his wife
or someone else, and
if you say, "Ah",
so good to see you again,"
they say "What do
you mean again?"
I thought you said I've never...
You've never been here."
I remember when I was
18-years-old, I was in a
restaurant working.
Comes in a man with
his wife and say,
"Oh, how are you, Dr.
Rodriguez?"
Right.
Always the road the nightclub.
Ooh.
Shit.
Woman want to kill him.
Right.
Big problem now.
No, of course.
No, never must... never
must say anything.
If you're a cheap
tipper, by the way,
or rude to your server,
you are dead to me.
You are lower than whale feces.
Twenty, thirty years ago,
waiting was a profession.
Yeah, yeah, oh, yeah.
Everybody learned
certain skills.
If you need to take...
Bone out a fish,
serve the fish at the tableside.
I make everything.
Right.
So a steak flambé.
Yeah.
No problem.
- No problem at all.
- Right. Crepe suzette?
Crepe suzette, of course.
Every these things
I do it, yeah.
All of this, of course.
How to fold the napkins.
Yeah, yeah, all that thing.
♪ ♪
I remember when I started
in the dining room,
it was five captains,
six waiters,
five assistant waiter,
sommelier, assistant sommelier.
It was quite different.
Nowadays it's more simple.
All come in dish, they
put them in here.
Right.
In France no more,
you don't see it.
No more, no?
No, in the Michelin
restaurants, you don't see it.
Nowadays, the people
are more simple, yeah.
- -'Cause they're easy.
- Yeah, yeah.
- Easy, very easy.
- They say, "Give me red wine."
Give me white wine.
"No problem which one."
This work what I do as a
waiter, slowly melting away.
I suppose 15 years or 20
years more, it's finished.
To the old style.
Cheers.
Cheers.
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
Who do Porteños see
themselves as?
I mean, do they say
"Well, I'm Argentine.
I'm from Argentina,"
or do they say, "Well, my
people came from Italy"
or my people came from..."
We are from Spain.
The Porteño itself they
think there is a...
From another planet.
Now I'm Porteño.
I'm from Buenos Aires.
I tell stories for a living.
I write books.
I make television.
A reasonable person does
not believe that you
are so interesting
that people will watch
you on television.
I think this is evidence of
a narcissistic personality
disorder to start with.
Do you think you had a
narcissistic personality
before you start to be in a...
Like, a public person,
or after that?
Before. I think
before, probably.
- Okay.
- Yeah, I think always.
- So...
- So nothing to be done.
♪ I know that the
morning after ♪
♪ You become a monster
that creeps me out ♪
♪ And things about to blow ♪
♪ A monster ♪
♪ Monster, monster ♪
♪ Monster, monster ♪
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
It's a spread of so many
thoughts in Buenos Aires.
You have, you know, the
life of the musicians,
which is very important,
you know, the tango,
all the artists.
Then you have sort of
the corporate world,
which is always boring.
It... and on the other
edge, you have the very
poor neighborhoods
of these hundreds
of thousands of children
that run behind the ball,
and they want to
be soccer players.
And they have a dream,
it's all they have,
and they know the
faster they run,
the harder they hit that ball,
the better they move around
it, maybe they will get it.
♪ ♪
♪ Monster, monster ♪
Chef, you do this all the time?
Like once a week.
This late at night?
Yes.
It's way too late for me.
Restaurant subculture,
depending on where you are,
can revolve around a
number of activities,
not all of them wholesome,
in my experience.
The business is hard,
the hours are long,
the camaraderie intense.
After a long day
and night of work,
the mind turns... to soccer?
Okay, this is a
distinguishing feature
I was frankly unprepared for.
So everyone here work for you?
Well, we have, like,
two teams, you know?
He's the chef of Le Grill.
It's a parrilla.
Yes.
And close, like two
blocks, we have Chila,
- And I'm the chef.
- Of course.
And we have the two teams.
Right.
Chef Soledad Nardelli,
along with her husband
and business partner
owns and operates
Chila restaurant, where
she still works the line.
We, as a country,
we are ignorant
of our culture, traditions.
We have a lot of
products, not only meat.
It's 1:00 A.M., and tonight
it's a blood match
between the crews of Chila
and its sister
restaurant, Le Grill.
We share a lot of products
with Peru, Bolivia,
Brazil, Paraguay.
We have the big influence
of immigrants,
like Germans, Swiss
people, Netherlands.
So that is... that
is our identity.
So many rich traditions.
Yeah.
Oh!
Do you want a drink?
What do you have?
We have Fernet.
Fernet.
We've been drinking
a little bit.
Oh, good.
We are used to drink aperitifs.
Right.
The digestives.
It's good for your stomach.
- Right.
- You know? You know?
So it's healthy.
Yes.
I ain't playing no soccer.
Alcohol and meat in
tube form, however,
are more familiar to me.
The chorizos are homemade.
Forty percent pork,
forty percent cow
and all the cuts are
dry-aged, so... -Sweet.
So it's got some funk.
Yeah.
♪ ♪
Bravo.
I don't know whether
it's the television
or the 30 years in the
restaurant business,
I just... I never understood
how normal people lived.
You know, when I was a
chef, I worked all day,
I hung out all night
with other cooks
other restaurant people.
You know, like, I really
love, like, barbequing
on vacation in the backyard.
I love cooking for my daughter.
I like doing these really
normal, mundane things
because I never got
to do them before.
So you've been in the restaurant
business a long time?
I started here in Buenos Aires.
Right.
Eighteen years ago.
Right, but wait a minute.
Cooking was not
your original plan.
What was the... the original
plan was... -Laws.
Law?
Yes.
But why would you do
such a foolish thing?
I mean, there's no money in
cooking most of the time.
Back then it was a business
dominated entirely by men.
I was... I was not feeling
good with myself, you know?
And I said, "Maybe
I will... I'm going"
to be a really good lawyer,
but I'm not going to be
happy in my life.
So right away you said,
"Okay, I'm gonna cook,"
and you went to Bocuse?
To Institut Paul Bocuse?
Yes -I've been.
Yes.
Yes. It's a tough school.
Yeah.
Very, very traditional.
For me, the experience of
France was really hard.
Oh, I can only imagine.
You know, Latin American
woman from Argentina
speaking the... few French.
I cry all night.
Call my mom and she...
She told me like,
"Sole, go on. Keep going.
Keep going. Keep going."
And I always said when...
When I have the opportunity
of running my own kitchen
I'm not going to repeat
any of the things
that they did to me.
So till now, I... I did
it okay, you know?
Good for you. You know,
all these tough guys,
they're all big babies anyway.
Like, the first women who
came in the kitchens
when I started, back
when it was all men.
One woman would come
in, and pretty soon
all the guys are, like,
going crying to them
with their problems.
It's like, you know, "Please,
be my mommy," you know?
"Don't be... you know, tell
me what to do," you know?
What to do.
I think we're ready for chorizo
The delicious,
delicious choripán
is an iconic street food
around here for reasons
that are immediately obvious
once you bite into one.
Oh, that's good.
I needed this badly.
♪ ♪
This is Argentinean style.
It's beer with Coke.
Beer... no, that's wrong, man.
No.
♪ ♪
I'm old for this.
♪ ♪
Who's here?
It's summer, right?
Well, that's a very
interesting question.
♪ ♪
There's people that cannot
go out for a holiday.
Right.
They stay here and then
make the party happen
in their own neighborhood.
♪ ♪
Now how long is
Carnival season here?
It goes on every
weekend for a month.
A month?
Yeah.
Carnival is different in
Argentina, decidedly different.
In every barrio in Buenos Aires
there are celebrations with
over a hundred murgas,
as they're called,
taking to the streets,
traveling from barrio to barrio
by bus doing their thing.
So they're like
neighborhood teams?
Yes, every neighborhood has
one or two of these murgas.
And they start in
one neighborhood
and then go to another,
and then go to another.
It's healthy competition
between every neighborhood.
♪ ♪
These guys are
Murga Los Amantes.
They're from La Boca,
which according
to the guidebook is an old
industrial neighborhood
in the port district known
for historic buildings
and no small amount of crime.
♪ ♪
Is it like a parade?
A block party?
It's a little bit of it.
- This is not like Rio Carnival.
- Right.
Where you have a few parades
with lots of money.
Right.
♪ ♪
You know, we do a lot
of different scenes,
most of the meals or
I drive sports cars,
I jump out of planes.
♪ ♪
But there are few
things that terrify me.
Carnivals, I'm not
a... I'm afraid of clowns.
♪ ♪
Ho-horrified.
People dancing, crowds.
You know, I've lived a long
life without ever going
to Carnival in Rio
or Mardi Gras.
I... I don't like it.
♪ ♪
There's something frightening
about crowds too.
I mean, what if they all
decide to do one thing
at the same time?
It starts as a party.
Five minutes later,
it's like Nazi Germany.
Yeah.
♪ ♪
Well, it's a pity that you...
You couldn't show the
old Carnival stuff.
Eh, I'm okay.
This is perfect for me.
I'm sitting down.
I'm drinking beer.
What is... It's all
right, honestly.
♪ ♪
It has common roots
with Brazilian Carnival
and Uruguay Carnival but in
each place two different way.
In Brazil, it was more
for the spectacle
and the lights, and
here it's more
about the pride of, you
know, of the neighborhood.
Anything for that?
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
This romanticism, this
sadness, this love of sadness.
What was it about the
history of Argentina
that allowed this to take root?
♪ ♪
From a difficult life.
From a life, you know,
living in a little room
but always with the glory
and the dream of a night
out, of the man who
has his beautiful hat
for Saturday night.
♪ ♪
And then next morning, you
know, reality is back.
Who's left in the city?
Who else stays?
- Who else stays?
- Well, construction workers.
Construction workers.
This building, it's a big one.
It's 18 stories.
Right.
It's in the middle
of Capital Federal,
from the center of Buenos Aires.
So it's gonna be an
expensive building.
So who's gonna live here?
I don't know.
People with money.
I mean, you know,
how's the economy?
The economy, it's crazy. It's,
uh... Some people doing good.
- Some people not doing so good.
- Yeah.
The middle-class has
been disappearing.
They tell me that
everybody in Argentina
sees a psychologist
or a psychiatrist.
Is this true?
- It's true, there's...
- Everybody?
Yeah.
Well, not everybody.
People that can afford
it, but... Right.
So let's go back to the
first question I asked.
What brought you here?
I'd like to be happy.
I'd like to be happier.
I should be happy.
I have, you know,
incredible luck.
Mm-hmm.
I'd like to be
able to, you know,
look out the window and
say, "Hey, life is good."
And you don't?
No.
I'm not gonna get a lot of
sympathy from people, frankly.
I mean, I have the
best job in the world.
Let's face it.
I go anywhere I want.
I do what I want.
Look, that guy over there loading
sausages onto the grill?
That's... that's work.
This is not so bad.
It's all right.
It's not so bad.
I'll make it.
Yeah.
♪ ♪
♪ The clouds turn grey ♪
♪ They come and go ♪
If people work hard like they do
in construction it is expected
that they be well-fed,
and in Buenos Aires,
well-fed means... yeah,
you guessed it.
How often do they do this?
Once a week, on Fridays.
They used to do it every day,
but economic... you
know, the meat.
Right.
Meat is really expensive.
It's expensive now.
♪ She ♪
♪ Glooms in the sky ♪
I always remember, you know,
walking down the street,
and you smell the...
You smell it from the
construction sites.
Yes, yeah.
- So most construction
- sites they do like this?
Mm-hmm. Everyone.
♪ ♪
Nico, lead singer of Octafonic.
Like nearly every Porteño...
Sweet.
He knows good beef
and where to find it.
Mm. It's good.
You word hard and eat
a big hunk of meat.
It's, you know, from the
low chain of the meat.
But it really has a lot
of fat, and it's...
Right. Good for you.
Yeah.
He says that we need
some wine, red wine.
Yeah, right?
I saw some construction
sites that they have it.
They... they serve wine?
Yeah. Yeah.
- Man.
- I guess the owners of this construction
Especially are strict about it.
- I'd be a little nervous.
- Yeah, of course.
- Guys up on the top floor...
- Fifty meters... yeah.
So where are most
of these guys from?
We... we got one from
Paraguay here.
Another from Argentina.
From Buenos Aires or from
outside of Buenos Aires?
Usually from inside,
from the provinces.
And how long has the job lasted?
I was asking.
It started one year
and a half ago.
Wow.
Yeah.
- That's a long time.
- Mm-hmm.
How much work is there?
A lot? A little?
I mean, after this, another job?
Yeah, I guess they jump from
construction to construction.
So they're working
regular always?
Yeah. Mm-hmm.
It's hard to get back to
work after having a...
Yeah, I just wanna
go home and sleep.
Mm-hmm.
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
I'm flying out, you know,
in just a few hours.
And you're going
now next to Rome?
It's a... such a beautiful city.
No, next Brazil.
Then to Japan.
Nashville.
Vietnam.
Houston.
♪ ♪
You know, like, there's
the evil cheeseburger
that sets me off.
Yeah.
The evil hamburger.
Suddenly I'm super
depressed for days.
It's like that with
the good stuff too.
I have a couple of
happy minutes there
where I'm thinking, "Ah,
life is pretty good."
♪ ♪
This is cool.
I'm enjoying this.
Yeah. It's like the
movies, but cheaper.
Yeah, right?
The pilot of the airplane
saying hi to the kids.
Wow.
- What's in the box, man?
- What's in there?
Oh, here we have amaro
Don Bairo, which is like
workman's bitter.
Uh-huh.
It's a kind of vermouth.
Yeah, I'll have some of that.
So how did you do in therapy?
My therapy?
Oh, I feel all better now.
Yeah?
All better.
What do you think?
How... how... how... I mean,
is there hope for me?
Uh, wow.
Ooh, boy.
Oh, that doesn't
sound promising.
I think what is good is
that you start thinking...
Or keep thinking about
what's wrong in your life.
What do you want to change?
And especially what do you
feel you can't change.
I was kind of hoping
for a prescription
for, like, morphine.
Was this an unreasonable
You should tell me before.
I think you should... you should
keep doing therapy, Tony.
Yeah, me too. I...
You're probably right.
Yes. Yes.
♪ ♪
I love staying in
Buenos Aires in summer
when the streets are empty.
I love this city.
I was born here this
cute metropolis
where a lot of cultures melt.
People from all Latin
America, people from Asia,
people from Europe.
The personality of
Buenos Aires is made
from the melt of cultures.
When I get back to New
York, I'll tell you,
when I get off that plane
I'm gonna make myself
a big [...] salad.
Excuse me, kid, but...
Sorry for the language.
♪ ♪
All right, what do you say
we get some sausages?
Yeah.
♪ ♪
So I'm trying to
understand Buenos Aires,
but I've only got a week.
♪ ♪
♪ I took a walk through this ♪
♪ Beautiful world ♪
♪ Felt the cool rain ♪
♪ On my shoulder ♪
♪ Found something good ♪
♪ In this beautiful world ♪
♪ I felt the rain
getting colder ♪
♪ Sha la, la, la, la ♪
♪ Sha la, la, la, la, la ♪
♪ Sha la, la, la, la ♪
♪ Sha la, la, la, la, la ♪
♪ ♪
Kind of amazing they
work, you know?
I'm still, like, I look at
a plane and I'm figuring...
I understand scientifically
how they fly,
but it doesn't look
like it should work.
No, it doesn't.
That's a big hunk of metal.
Yeah.
And who are these people?
They're waiting for
friends to arrive or no?
They're just here
looking at planes.
Yes, it's popular.
You come here, and you watch a
couple of planes come and go.
The whole family.
Yeah.
♪ ♪
Buenos Aires, capital
of Argentina,
second largest country
in South America.
It's got a quirky, unique
character all its own.
It looks like no other place,
and it feels unlike any other.
♪ ♪
Oh, silence.
Yeah, right?
It's very pretty here.
I mean, it's really beautiful.
I'm glad I came in the summer.
It's really quiet.
It's got sort of
a mournful, sad,
sweet quality that I like.
Fits with the architecture.
♪ ♪
Where does everybody go?
Like now, where is everybody?
The city's empty.
The month of January, everyone's
gone for the holidays.
January and February are
the hottest months here,
middle of summer
and most Porteños
who can afford it get out
of town to cooler climes.
They go to Uruguay
or Mar del Plata,
which our beach, or to
Patagonia or to the north.
- I have a home in Patagonia.
- Uh-huh.
Far away from any restaurant.
It has no internet, no
electricity, no phone.
I mean, it's a little
anti-social, for a guy
who's a communicator...
You're all over television.
Yeah, I... I'm not very social.
Chef-Restaurateur
Francis Mallmann
is one of the biggest and
most influential figures
in Latin American
gastronomy, a TV star,
head of a restaurant empire,
and now in middle age,
gives delightfully few shits
about anything unimportant.
This is a restaurant I love.
Carlitos.
He serves you whatever he has.
There's no menu.
♪ ♪
Of all the places in the world
that Francis Mallmann
can eat and has eaten,
it's this place he
wanted to take me to,
Bodegón Don Carlitos.
It's him and his
wife in the kitchen
with the two daughters.
There's nobody else, and they've
been open for 45 years.
An unassuming family-run joint
across from the soccer stadium.
So who are the
customers ordinarily?
You... you know, he
doesn't have prices.
It's fun because you see
very simple people,
and if you look sort of
wealthy and elegant,
you will get a big
check, and if not,
you will get a small check.
That's the way it works.
- Ah, this is Carlitos.
- Carlitos.
How do you do, sir?
How are you?
Welcome.
Thank you.
Oh, beautiful.
I will have this guy.
There are gods here besides
tango and football,
or soccer, as we call it.
There is beef.
Porteños, as residents of
Buenos Aires are called,
like beef and meat in general,
but particularly beef.
That's fantastic.
Man, I love this place already.
Yes, I love meat.
I eat meat every day.
The morcilla.
Now that's exciting.
This is one of my
favorite things on Earth.
Boudin.
Love it.
♪ ♪
Now, it's a proud country.
I mean, one of the stereotypes
is that Argentines
are too proud, that they're... and
full of themselves.
Vain, proud.
If this is so, why
is psychotherapy
so huge in this country?
I mean, this is the
kingdom of doubt.
You know, my kids have
been to the shrink
since they're eight
for a year or two
because, you know,
go to the shrink
and talk to someone
who you don't know.
With whom you can say
whatever you want.
I did it myself a couple
of years when I was 30.
I mean, it's an
extraordinary thing
because in many cultures
to confess that you need
to even confide in someone is
seen as a sign of weakness.
Here everybody does it and
in no way frown upon it.
Mm-hmm.
It's kind of cool, 'cause
I could... I really,
I could use somebody that I... I
need somebody to talk to.
Have you ever done it?
Um...
I was a teenager and my parents
caught me with drugs and
as part of the deal
to stay out of, uh...
Stay out of trouble,
I saw a therapist briefly.
Mm-hmm.
Meet Marianna, my therapist.
Argentina has the
distinction of being home
to more headshrinkers per
capita than anywhere else
in the world.
So, Tony, what brought you here?
What brought me here?
Well, things have been happening,
like I will find myself
in an airport, for
instance, and I'll order
an airport hamburger.
It's an insignificant thing.
It's a small thing.
It's a hamburger.
- Yeah.
- But it's not a good one.
Suddenly I look
at the hamburger,
and I find myself in a
spiral of depression.
Yes.
That can last for days.
George Orwell said something
that really upset me
because he talked
about human beings
are essentially tubes
into which we shove food.
Mm-hmm.
And this is my job.
I travel around the world
with these people,
and... and they turn
on the cameras,
and then for a certain
period of time,
my job is to shove
food into my face.
And... And what's
wrong with that?
Um... You have to eat.
♪ ♪
Wow, look at that.
They don't just mess
around here, right?
It's beautiful.
Something... It's perfect food.
Wow. I mean, it's really
unnecessarily delicious.
What kind of food is this?
Where is it rooted?
Between Italy and
Spain, and then a bit
of the gaucho too, with the
meat and the way he cooks it.
'Cause La Boca, this
neighborhood, is very Italian.
They say that this is
where tango was born,
in this little street,
two blocks away here
called Caminito.
♪ ♪
And where does that
come from emotionally?
The need for tango.
Why here?
Tango is extremely sad.
It's about love, about despair.
It's about poverty, and
the dance, I think,
is one of the most elegant
dances in the world.
You know, they barely move,
and... and suddenly, they stop.
When they stop, you know, you
tremble because you feel
that the man is sort of...
inside of her almost,
and then he goes on.
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
It's crushingly lonely.
I travel over 200 days a year.
♪ ♪
So I had this dream again
that I've had as long
as I can remember.
I'm stuck in a vast,
old Victorian hotel
with endless rooms and hallways,
trying to check out but I can't.
♪ ♪
I spend a lot of time in hotels,
but this one is menacing
because I just can't leave it.
♪ ♪
And then there's another
part to this dream always,
where I'm trying to go home,
but I can't quite
remember where that is.
Hm, are you alone?
I'm alone in this dream, yes.
♪ ♪
In my heart, what I
like of Buenos Aires
and Argentina is that we
take time to sit down
and have lunch every day.
Tony.
Hungry?
Yeah, I'm always hungry.
And we finish lunch, and
we stay at the table
for one hour more
with our friends.
And then they go to work
or they have a siesta.
Then nap.
And then a nap.
Very important.
Totally, I'm on board with that.
♪ ♪
On the outskirts of town in
the roaring summer heat,
the fires still burn hot.
The tempting miasma of meat
fills the mid-afternoon air.
On the parrilla, many parts
of once-living things sizzle
and char for the pleasure
of those Porteños
who remain in town, like
Marianna, my new therapist.
Wow, what?
Wow.
Wow.
I don't think that's enough.
Meat is king, and fire,
and we shall go hard
in honoring the flame.
My God, I don't know where
to attack this first.
All of this, we call it achuras.
Achuras.
- Kidney...
- Right.
...sausage, which is
chorizo, black sausage,
which is morcilla here.
Mmm.
And this is the famous
intestine, right?
Yes.
After a week or two
here, even confirmed
carnivores like myself
will fall to their knees
praying for a vegetable.
So is this normal, like,
lunch for people?
Yes. Uh-hmm.
Tell me, what did you do during
your time in Buenos Aires?
Ate a lot of meat.
Yes.
Do you have any vegetables
in this country at all?
You know, there are a lot
of vegetarian people here.
Yeah right.
And they are famished.
Chicken.
Chicken is a
vegetable, isn't it?
Why is therapy so
big in Argentina?
Because, I mean, the country
also has this gaucho tradition,
a very macho tradition.
Yes, but that's what
therapy is for.
They can do it there.
They can? So it's okay?
Yeah, it is okay.
See, as New Yorkers, we
tell each other every...
You tell strangers all
of your problems.
We overshare.
Well, people here
don't overshare.
No.
I feel like Quasimodo, -the
Hunchback of Notre Dame.
Yeah?
If he stayed in nice
hotel suites with high
thread-count sheets,
that would be me.
I feel kind of like a freak,
and I feel very isolated.
I communicate for a
living, but I'm terrible
at communicating with
people I care about.
I'm good with my daughter.
An eight-year-old
is about my level
of communication skills,
so that works out.
Oh, my God.
That was just the
vegetable course.
Yes.
Later, I'm gonna have a nap.
That would be a Porteño thing to do?
Like after...
A nap? It's more...
It's much more...
It's more like people
from the provinces...
- From the...
- Right. Well, that's me.
I'm a country... no,
I'm not really...
I'm not a country boy actually.
No, you're a city boy.
I'm a city boy, but
I do like naps.
So regular people,
all summer long
you're stuck in Buenos
Aires, what do you do?
Go for a barbecue.
Go out for dinner.
♪ ♪
We have a lot of shows
and concerts and music.
♪ No, no, no, no, no, no, no ♪
So what's the best season, the
best time of year for you?
The best money, the
best business.
Hot season in the summer.
- In the summer?
- In the summer, yeah, yeah.
- Now?
- Now, yeah, yeah, yeah.
'Cause it's tourists.
European people of the north,
from the States, Canada.
It's cold now.
They come into the summer.
Right.
All hail the waiter,
the career-server,
that great disappearing
species of proud,
well-trained specialists.
Members of the service industry
who trace their roots back
to the great hotels of Europe
and beyond into history.
Those who remain like this
man, Mario, we salute you.
So how many years
in the dining room?
A lot?
Yeah. I start in...
When I was 17-years-old
in a restaurant.
Seventeen?
Seventeen, yes.
The people who work in a kitchen
one type of personality.
The people in the
dining room, you need
to be more sociable.
I like very much to
speak with all people
- -from the whole world.
- Uh-hmm.
And I speak a little
English, German.
I speak German very well,
Italian, Portuguese.
A friend of mine who's
worked in the business
a long time, he tells
me whenever a man comes
into the restaurant with
a woman, they never say,
"Oh, mister, so good
to see you again."
No, no, no.
No, no, no, no.
You don't know if the
woman is his wife
or someone else, and
if you say, "Ah",
so good to see you again,"
they say "What do
you mean again?"
I thought you said I've never...
You've never been here."
I remember when I was
18-years-old, I was in a
restaurant working.
Comes in a man with
his wife and say,
"Oh, how are you, Dr.
Rodriguez?"
Right.
Always the road the nightclub.
Ooh.
Shit.
Woman want to kill him.
Right.
Big problem now.
No, of course.
No, never must... never
must say anything.
If you're a cheap
tipper, by the way,
or rude to your server,
you are dead to me.
You are lower than whale feces.
Twenty, thirty years ago,
waiting was a profession.
Yeah, yeah, oh, yeah.
Everybody learned
certain skills.
If you need to take...
Bone out a fish,
serve the fish at the tableside.
I make everything.
Right.
So a steak flambé.
Yeah.
No problem.
- No problem at all.
- Right. Crepe suzette?
Crepe suzette, of course.
Every these things
I do it, yeah.
All of this, of course.
How to fold the napkins.
Yeah, yeah, all that thing.
♪ ♪
I remember when I started
in the dining room,
it was five captains,
six waiters,
five assistant waiter,
sommelier, assistant sommelier.
It was quite different.
Nowadays it's more simple.
All come in dish, they
put them in here.
Right.
In France no more,
you don't see it.
No more, no?
No, in the Michelin
restaurants, you don't see it.
Nowadays, the people
are more simple, yeah.
- -'Cause they're easy.
- Yeah, yeah.
- Easy, very easy.
- They say, "Give me red wine."
Give me white wine.
"No problem which one."
This work what I do as a
waiter, slowly melting away.
I suppose 15 years or 20
years more, it's finished.
To the old style.
Cheers.
Cheers.
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
Who do Porteños see
themselves as?
I mean, do they say
"Well, I'm Argentine.
I'm from Argentina,"
or do they say, "Well, my
people came from Italy"
or my people came from..."
We are from Spain.
The Porteño itself they
think there is a...
From another planet.
Now I'm Porteño.
I'm from Buenos Aires.
I tell stories for a living.
I write books.
I make television.
A reasonable person does
not believe that you
are so interesting
that people will watch
you on television.
I think this is evidence of
a narcissistic personality
disorder to start with.
Do you think you had a
narcissistic personality
before you start to be in a...
Like, a public person,
or after that?
Before. I think
before, probably.
- Okay.
- Yeah, I think always.
- So...
- So nothing to be done.
♪ I know that the
morning after ♪
♪ You become a monster
that creeps me out ♪
♪ And things about to blow ♪
♪ A monster ♪
♪ Monster, monster ♪
♪ Monster, monster ♪
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
It's a spread of so many
thoughts in Buenos Aires.
You have, you know, the
life of the musicians,
which is very important,
you know, the tango,
all the artists.
Then you have sort of
the corporate world,
which is always boring.
It... and on the other
edge, you have the very
poor neighborhoods
of these hundreds
of thousands of children
that run behind the ball,
and they want to
be soccer players.
And they have a dream,
it's all they have,
and they know the
faster they run,
the harder they hit that ball,
the better they move around
it, maybe they will get it.
♪ ♪
♪ Monster, monster ♪
Chef, you do this all the time?
Like once a week.
This late at night?
Yes.
It's way too late for me.
Restaurant subculture,
depending on where you are,
can revolve around a
number of activities,
not all of them wholesome,
in my experience.
The business is hard,
the hours are long,
the camaraderie intense.
After a long day
and night of work,
the mind turns... to soccer?
Okay, this is a
distinguishing feature
I was frankly unprepared for.
So everyone here work for you?
Well, we have, like,
two teams, you know?
He's the chef of Le Grill.
It's a parrilla.
Yes.
And close, like two
blocks, we have Chila,
- And I'm the chef.
- Of course.
And we have the two teams.
Right.
Chef Soledad Nardelli,
along with her husband
and business partner
owns and operates
Chila restaurant, where
she still works the line.
We, as a country,
we are ignorant
of our culture, traditions.
We have a lot of
products, not only meat.
It's 1:00 A.M., and tonight
it's a blood match
between the crews of Chila
and its sister
restaurant, Le Grill.
We share a lot of products
with Peru, Bolivia,
Brazil, Paraguay.
We have the big influence
of immigrants,
like Germans, Swiss
people, Netherlands.
So that is... that
is our identity.
So many rich traditions.
Yeah.
Oh!
Do you want a drink?
What do you have?
We have Fernet.
Fernet.
We've been drinking
a little bit.
Oh, good.
We are used to drink aperitifs.
Right.
The digestives.
It's good for your stomach.
- Right.
- You know? You know?
So it's healthy.
Yes.
I ain't playing no soccer.
Alcohol and meat in
tube form, however,
are more familiar to me.
The chorizos are homemade.
Forty percent pork,
forty percent cow
and all the cuts are
dry-aged, so... -Sweet.
So it's got some funk.
Yeah.
♪ ♪
Bravo.
I don't know whether
it's the television
or the 30 years in the
restaurant business,
I just... I never understood
how normal people lived.
You know, when I was a
chef, I worked all day,
I hung out all night
with other cooks
other restaurant people.
You know, like, I really
love, like, barbequing
on vacation in the backyard.
I love cooking for my daughter.
I like doing these really
normal, mundane things
because I never got
to do them before.
So you've been in the restaurant
business a long time?
I started here in Buenos Aires.
Right.
Eighteen years ago.
Right, but wait a minute.
Cooking was not
your original plan.
What was the... the original
plan was... -Laws.
Law?
Yes.
But why would you do
such a foolish thing?
I mean, there's no money in
cooking most of the time.
Back then it was a business
dominated entirely by men.
I was... I was not feeling
good with myself, you know?
And I said, "Maybe
I will... I'm going"
to be a really good lawyer,
but I'm not going to be
happy in my life.
So right away you said,
"Okay, I'm gonna cook,"
and you went to Bocuse?
To Institut Paul Bocuse?
Yes -I've been.
Yes.
Yes. It's a tough school.
Yeah.
Very, very traditional.
For me, the experience of
France was really hard.
Oh, I can only imagine.
You know, Latin American
woman from Argentina
speaking the... few French.
I cry all night.
Call my mom and she...
She told me like,
"Sole, go on. Keep going.
Keep going. Keep going."
And I always said when...
When I have the opportunity
of running my own kitchen
I'm not going to repeat
any of the things
that they did to me.
So till now, I... I did
it okay, you know?
Good for you. You know,
all these tough guys,
they're all big babies anyway.
Like, the first women who
came in the kitchens
when I started, back
when it was all men.
One woman would come
in, and pretty soon
all the guys are, like,
going crying to them
with their problems.
It's like, you know, "Please,
be my mommy," you know?
"Don't be... you know, tell
me what to do," you know?
What to do.
I think we're ready for chorizo
The delicious,
delicious choripán
is an iconic street food
around here for reasons
that are immediately obvious
once you bite into one.
Oh, that's good.
I needed this badly.
♪ ♪
This is Argentinean style.
It's beer with Coke.
Beer... no, that's wrong, man.
No.
♪ ♪
I'm old for this.
♪ ♪
Who's here?
It's summer, right?
Well, that's a very
interesting question.
♪ ♪
There's people that cannot
go out for a holiday.
Right.
They stay here and then
make the party happen
in their own neighborhood.
♪ ♪
Now how long is
Carnival season here?
It goes on every
weekend for a month.
A month?
Yeah.
Carnival is different in
Argentina, decidedly different.
In every barrio in Buenos Aires
there are celebrations with
over a hundred murgas,
as they're called,
taking to the streets,
traveling from barrio to barrio
by bus doing their thing.
So they're like
neighborhood teams?
Yes, every neighborhood has
one or two of these murgas.
And they start in
one neighborhood
and then go to another,
and then go to another.
It's healthy competition
between every neighborhood.
♪ ♪
These guys are
Murga Los Amantes.
They're from La Boca,
which according
to the guidebook is an old
industrial neighborhood
in the port district known
for historic buildings
and no small amount of crime.
♪ ♪
Is it like a parade?
A block party?
It's a little bit of it.
- This is not like Rio Carnival.
- Right.
Where you have a few parades
with lots of money.
Right.
♪ ♪
You know, we do a lot
of different scenes,
most of the meals or
I drive sports cars,
I jump out of planes.
♪ ♪
But there are few
things that terrify me.
Carnivals, I'm not
a... I'm afraid of clowns.
♪ ♪
Ho-horrified.
People dancing, crowds.
You know, I've lived a long
life without ever going
to Carnival in Rio
or Mardi Gras.
I... I don't like it.
♪ ♪
There's something frightening
about crowds too.
I mean, what if they all
decide to do one thing
at the same time?
It starts as a party.
Five minutes later,
it's like Nazi Germany.
Yeah.
♪ ♪
Well, it's a pity that you...
You couldn't show the
old Carnival stuff.
Eh, I'm okay.
This is perfect for me.
I'm sitting down.
I'm drinking beer.
What is... It's all
right, honestly.
♪ ♪
It has common roots
with Brazilian Carnival
and Uruguay Carnival but in
each place two different way.
In Brazil, it was more
for the spectacle
and the lights, and
here it's more
about the pride of, you
know, of the neighborhood.
Anything for that?
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
This romanticism, this
sadness, this love of sadness.
What was it about the
history of Argentina
that allowed this to take root?
♪ ♪
From a difficult life.
From a life, you know,
living in a little room
but always with the glory
and the dream of a night
out, of the man who
has his beautiful hat
for Saturday night.
♪ ♪
And then next morning, you
know, reality is back.
Who's left in the city?
Who else stays?
- Who else stays?
- Well, construction workers.
Construction workers.
This building, it's a big one.
It's 18 stories.
Right.
It's in the middle
of Capital Federal,
from the center of Buenos Aires.
So it's gonna be an
expensive building.
So who's gonna live here?
I don't know.
People with money.
I mean, you know,
how's the economy?
The economy, it's crazy. It's,
uh... Some people doing good.
- Some people not doing so good.
- Yeah.
The middle-class has
been disappearing.
They tell me that
everybody in Argentina
sees a psychologist
or a psychiatrist.
Is this true?
- It's true, there's...
- Everybody?
Yeah.
Well, not everybody.
People that can afford
it, but... Right.
So let's go back to the
first question I asked.
What brought you here?
I'd like to be happy.
I'd like to be happier.
I should be happy.
I have, you know,
incredible luck.
Mm-hmm.
I'd like to be
able to, you know,
look out the window and
say, "Hey, life is good."
And you don't?
No.
I'm not gonna get a lot of
sympathy from people, frankly.
I mean, I have the
best job in the world.
Let's face it.
I go anywhere I want.
I do what I want.
Look, that guy over there loading
sausages onto the grill?
That's... that's work.
This is not so bad.
It's all right.
It's not so bad.
I'll make it.
Yeah.
♪ ♪
♪ The clouds turn grey ♪
♪ They come and go ♪
If people work hard like they do
in construction it is expected
that they be well-fed,
and in Buenos Aires,
well-fed means... yeah,
you guessed it.
How often do they do this?
Once a week, on Fridays.
They used to do it every day,
but economic... you
know, the meat.
Right.
Meat is really expensive.
It's expensive now.
♪ She ♪
♪ Glooms in the sky ♪
I always remember, you know,
walking down the street,
and you smell the...
You smell it from the
construction sites.
Yes, yeah.
- So most construction
- sites they do like this?
Mm-hmm. Everyone.
♪ ♪
Nico, lead singer of Octafonic.
Like nearly every Porteño...
Sweet.
He knows good beef
and where to find it.
Mm. It's good.
You word hard and eat
a big hunk of meat.
It's, you know, from the
low chain of the meat.
But it really has a lot
of fat, and it's...
Right. Good for you.
Yeah.
He says that we need
some wine, red wine.
Yeah, right?
I saw some construction
sites that they have it.
They... they serve wine?
Yeah. Yeah.
- Man.
- I guess the owners of this construction
Especially are strict about it.
- I'd be a little nervous.
- Yeah, of course.
- Guys up on the top floor...
- Fifty meters... yeah.
So where are most
of these guys from?
We... we got one from
Paraguay here.
Another from Argentina.
From Buenos Aires or from
outside of Buenos Aires?
Usually from inside,
from the provinces.
And how long has the job lasted?
I was asking.
It started one year
and a half ago.
Wow.
Yeah.
- That's a long time.
- Mm-hmm.
How much work is there?
A lot? A little?
I mean, after this, another job?
Yeah, I guess they jump from
construction to construction.
So they're working
regular always?
Yeah. Mm-hmm.
It's hard to get back to
work after having a...
Yeah, I just wanna
go home and sleep.
Mm-hmm.
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
I'm flying out, you know,
in just a few hours.
And you're going
now next to Rome?
It's a... such a beautiful city.
No, next Brazil.
Then to Japan.
Nashville.
Vietnam.
Houston.
♪ ♪
You know, like, there's
the evil cheeseburger
that sets me off.
Yeah.
The evil hamburger.
Suddenly I'm super
depressed for days.
It's like that with
the good stuff too.
I have a couple of
happy minutes there
where I'm thinking, "Ah,
life is pretty good."
♪ ♪
This is cool.
I'm enjoying this.
Yeah. It's like the
movies, but cheaper.
Yeah, right?
The pilot of the airplane
saying hi to the kids.
Wow.
- What's in the box, man?
- What's in there?
Oh, here we have amaro
Don Bairo, which is like
workman's bitter.
Uh-huh.
It's a kind of vermouth.
Yeah, I'll have some of that.
So how did you do in therapy?
My therapy?
Oh, I feel all better now.
Yeah?
All better.
What do you think?
How... how... how... I mean,
is there hope for me?
Uh, wow.
Ooh, boy.
Oh, that doesn't
sound promising.
I think what is good is
that you start thinking...
Or keep thinking about
what's wrong in your life.
What do you want to change?
And especially what do you
feel you can't change.
I was kind of hoping
for a prescription
for, like, morphine.
Was this an unreasonable
You should tell me before.
I think you should... you should
keep doing therapy, Tony.
Yeah, me too. I...
You're probably right.
Yes. Yes.
♪ ♪
I love staying in
Buenos Aires in summer
when the streets are empty.
I love this city.
I was born here this
cute metropolis
where a lot of cultures melt.
People from all Latin
America, people from Asia,
people from Europe.
The personality of
Buenos Aires is made
from the melt of cultures.
When I get back to New
York, I'll tell you,
when I get off that plane
I'm gonna make myself
a big [...] salad.
Excuse me, kid, but...
Sorry for the language.
♪ ♪
All right, what do you say
we get some sausages?
Yeah.
♪ ♪