In the U.S., if you profess a taste for red meat, you can expect an onslaught of attitude. The calories! The cholesterol! Those messy juices running down your chin! But in South America, it’s a whole different story: Meat—specifically beef, sizzling on the grill—occupies a central place in food culture.
Start with a key word: churrasco. Its meaning varies drastically from country to country. In the opinion of chef Douglas Rodriguez, author of Latin Flavors on the Grill: “It’s the most misunderstood word in the Spanish language.” And the Portuguese language, for that matter. In Argentina, a churrasco is a skirt steak—the dense, somewhat gamy cut taken from the cattle’s belly. Because of its shape, an Argentinean churrasco cooks quickly, and its surface-to-meat ratio allows the grill’s smoky flavor to pervade it.
In Brazil, churrasco is a more general term—translated roughly, it means “barbecue.” A Brazilian restaurant specializing in meat is called a churrasqueira, often served all-you-can-eat rodizio style: The waiters circulate around the restaurant with the meat on skewers, piling beef, sausages, and chicken onto diners’ plates until they beg for mercy.
The idea of churrasco embodying carnivorous plenitude starts at home. For Maria Baez Kijac, author of The South American Table, the word conjures a special occasion feast at which nearly every part of the cow makes an appearance, starting with organ meats—intestines, kidneys, sweetbreads—and moving along to steaks.
The key to South American grilling is simplicity. The idea is to let the meat itself do the talking: Any flavoring should serve only as a kind of emphasis. For some, any alteration of the meat itself is a form of sacrilege. “I was teaching a class at Kendall [School of Culinary Arts] with a young Argentinean chef,” says Kijac. “When one of the students marinated the meat, she was appalled!” Kijac takes a looser attitude herself, marinating it for an hour in soy sauce, garlic powder, vinegar or lemon, and pepper—just enough to bring out the flavor. For his part, Rodriguez often uses a dry rub of spices and herbs—garlic powder, onion powder, coriander, cumin.
For a true churrasco treat, look for beef that’s been imported from Argentina or Uruguay. Unlike American livestock, grain fed and usually raised confined, these cattle roam freely through the pampas—the fertile lowlands—and graze on grass. The result is leaner than American beef: It doesn’t have the greasy richness of U.S. Prime. But it’s also more flavorful—you can taste the richness of the soil in the meat itself.
That grilled meat tastes fine with a dollop of criolla sauce—a kind of southern hemisphere version of Mexican salsa, made with tomatoes and onions. Even more common, especially in Argentina, is chimichurri (see sidebar). The traditional accompaniment is a green salad with tomatoes and perhaps potato salad or beets. Dessert is no less simple: Some fresh fruit, or guava paste with a slice of tangy cheese. Wash it all down with some red wine, and get a taste of what warm weather is all about.
MBA Jungle, Aug./Sept. 2007