Ok fine, i DO have a reason for moving to Argentina. It starts with a “dulce” and ends with a “leche.” TITS that shit is delicious. And if i’m really being honest, admitting a weakness for dulce de leche is being a bit generous. It really expands far far beyond the simply carmel-like substance, to pretty much anything with refined sugar (well, or not refined sugar I suppose. Or honey. Or maple. Or agave. You get the picture…) as the #1 ingredient. And it is an addiction.
Thus, Argentina has become a dangerous feeding frenzy for me. I cannot, for the life of me, understand why these people are not more obese, but I can round back to that pregunta in a hot minute. First, let there be food porn.
I’d like to point out, with more than a smidge of shame, that these are only photos of my purchased goodies. Really only in the last 2 weeks. The actual supply is endless, beautiful, and absolutely delicious. It looks like art! It literally does. Today I saw some sort of “whole wheat flour” cake that had 7 layers and 15 different shades of chocolate and dulce de leche and merengue and peanuts and oreos and mystery things and looked amazing, and was as close as you will see to any attempt to healthen up an Argentine dessert in this country. No gluten-free vegan pizza up in this hizzay… no sir-ee.
And you know what? I appreciate that. Because if you tell me there’s something in there that’s healthy (dates? what even are they, and why do they end up in desserts and make them seem healthier?) in there, i’ll help myself to seconds without a second thought of guilt. And you know what? My pants just keep getting tighter and tighter…
Anywho… this ode really would not be complete without a shoutout to my true love, my real partner, my trusty confidante. Always awaiting me, post lunch, post dinner, for an eager pre-lunch snack. Small or large, and under 100 calories a pop. Vauquitas, I love you, and I WILL find a way to bring you home with me. Even if it means putting a ring on it :-O