Mettā, a trip down South American memory lane

When I was 24 years old I decamped to Buenos Aires and spent six months surviving solely on the finest steak known to humanity.Across the road from my apartment was a hole-in-the-wall parilla, set up like a bar except instead of bottles there was an open metal grill and a woman presiding over the meat with all the seriousness of the Pope on Sunday. Steak was served on a wooden board with just a knife; the traditional way to eat steak in Argentina is to hold it between your teeth and cut a portio