In Ezcurra's courtyard at her conventillo – a type of shared home in Buenos Aires where 19th-Century Italian immigrants once lived – her family and friends sat and chatted while awaiting the feast that was to come. In the back of the open space, surrounded by lush green trees, Ezcurra's son Joaquin tended to the hot coals and meat, asking for a steady replenishment of Malbec: it takes hours to cook an asado and it's custom to never let the asador's glass go dry. When Joaquin brought the first cuts of steak to the table on a wooden chopping board, everyone reached for a serving. He assembled a plate for me, following something that resembled a ritual: first he grabbed a piece of warm bread, then he chose a slice of meat and finally he spread on a generous spoonful of chimichurri.
อ่านต่อได้ที่ : โรงเรียนวัดควนสูง
สาระน่ารู้ : Maskne