Preparing for the unknown.

I have been rereading Chris Hadfield’s account An Astronaut’s Guide to Life on Earth. Of recent reads over the past ten years, this one has left an indelible impression. He stresses the necessity of sweating the small stuff, of being prepared, and of thinking about all the things that could go wrong in order to make a plan to “work the problem.” 

I follow his advice when traveling. I have a focused routine for my kit, the items that I take along with me. I continually refine what goes in my suitcase. For example, on this current trip to Argentina, I decided to bring my laptop, which I have left home in the past. Bringing it has made writing and photographing much easier. However, I am unable to download and edit some of the soundbites that I am recording on this trip, so next time around, I will bring the small connector that attaches my Roland digital audio recorder to my computer.

For Christmas, my #1 No. 1 daughter ((I have a #2 No. 1 daughter, as well) gave me a better backpack, which has made this easier. I pour over maps, print some out and look at the transportation possibilities. Ahead of time, I figure out the money thing, how much I need to bring and how much to exchange in advance. For Argentina, it was impossible to exchange dollars for pesos ahead of time, but I knew that I would encounter a US airport exchange rate, a taxi-driver exchange rate, an official exchange rate, and a blue exchange rate. At the Atlanta airport, the rate is the worst 1 USD:45 ARS, the BsAs taxi rate 1 USD:55 ARS, the official rate (February 2020) 1 USD:60 ARS, and the blue rate 1 USD:70 ARS. I have been able to use the blue rate at my first hotel and in a small storefront that I found out about from a local. 

Cmdr. Hadfield writes much about his dream to become an astronaut and the determination and effort that led to his success. All good stuff. Many valuable lessons. His telling of mission goals is a secondary piece of his story. I am clear about my mission when I go out into Space of a Foreign Place (not that the space program or Hadfield isn’t goal oriented). My mission is to discover the human connections that emanate from the table and to distill the lessons of cooking relating to those discoveries. “How to cook your life” as it were.

After all my preparations are complete and I’ve gone out the door, I am prepared for discovery. Even with all the planning, I never know what lies ahead. The most important behavior I must practice is to keep fear and anxiety at bay, for they prevent me from taking the risks, ones I have prepared myself to take.

Bariloche - Daniel & Guillermo

When I perused possible places to stay in Bariloche, a home, which was hosted by a chef, stood out. The tone of our exchanged messages confirmed that this was the place to stay. 

San Carlos de Bariloche is situated in the middle of the North Patagonian batholith, granites which evolved from individual pulses of magma, plutons dating from the Cretaceous to the Miocene (135 myr - 25 myr). It perches on the shores of Lake Nahuel Huapi, cobalt blue water lapping against greens of dark pine. To the west are the Siete Lagos, mirror-like, hidden within the rising Andes. This the home of Patagonia Brewing. 

All of this is a backdrop to my stay. The adventure commenced with my walking into the small front yard of Citizen Kane Lodge to the welcome of my favorite flowers:blooming roses, exploding with fragrance. I had to remember that January in Argentina is summertime. Guillermo, my host, was waiting to help me into the house.

Passing from roses into the living room, my comfort and ease blossomed. Adding to the warm welcome from Guillermo, the house itself embraced me, announcing itself a place of calm and care. The bouquet of flowers blended into the savory aromas of a kitchen well-used and spices well-blended. Small collections of useful,antique cooking implements were permanent, esteemed residents. 

Daniel was in the kitchen—where else to find a chef? Stepping into a kitchen evokes many different emotions; sometimes I tense immediately, unconsciously gripped by stress of dinner-rush-past. The opposite was true in this kitchen. Daniel’s passion for food and people was immediately evident upon our meeting. His humble posture, warm impish smile, and his kind eyes spoke volumes about his life as a cook. We spoke briefly before I went upstairs to get settled. I felt at home.

It did not take me long to make my way back down as I wanted to see what was taking place, to speak with a fellow pilgrim. It was a tiny kitchen with only working space for one. This was a place of personal invention and creativity, a place of creating things for the pleasure of others while simultaneously experiencing personal joy through the act of making. This is how I am when I am in my kitchen. I must admit to feeling a bit awkward at the time as I had just arrived, Daniel well into his cooking, and I was teeming with questions. I really didn’t wish to leave. In no way or manner did he show I was in the way or a bother, I recognized that this as my own anxiety of walking into a new place but one that already held familiar emotions. 

Guillermo entered so that he and I could review some preliminaries of visiting Bariloche, and I set out to discover Bariloche. His suggestions, which I followed, included where to eat, where to hike, and a drive around the lake,  were invaluable; he was the perfect guide. When I came back from a jaunt into town, some good beer at Manush Cerveceria and delicious bar food, actually delicious food regardless of what table I could sit at, in my room I reviewed information about Citizen Kane Lodge. On offer was a home cooked meal, it was not listed online. I would plan on this. I could hear Daniel fussing about in the kitchen until well past midnight.

After homemade breads and currant jam (made with berries from the garden), dulche de leche, and a very light omelet, Daniel and I chatted more. Of course I wanted to know about his cooking experience. He revealed that for many years, he was the chef of the German Embassy to Argentina. He recounted a story about a particular cake he had made.  The ambassador's wife requested a green cake=for their daughter’s coming out party. Daniel, not wanting to disappoint, produced a green cake—a VERY green cake. In the follow up after the party, the wife was exasperated, expressed herself forcefully (in emotional German) and in the confusion of an Argentinian chef able to speak German—but not perfect German—he pressed his hands together prayer like, slightly bowed, and said, “Thank you.” The ambassador’s wife was silenced. 

By this time, I recognized the genuine humility of this man. His desire to please and care for others through his craft was clear. Chris Hadfield also speaks about the need to remain humble. It is the way to add positive value to the community aboard a space station. It is also the way to add value to the community of the whole world.

In his employment for the embassy, Daniel cooked for Pope Francis when the Pope visited Buenos Aires. The next evening he would cook for me.

The evening of our meal together, we were joined by a couple from Israel, a former butcher and his wife. The evening was lovely, and the food incredible:  pumpkin soup, trout stuffed with apples and beets, and three desserts: Crepe Suzettes, Creme Brulee Dulche de Leche, and a chocolate cake with raspberries (also from their garden). My preparations for Bariloche insured I would meet these fellow pilgrims, Daniel and Guillermo. Beyond the fact that Daniel was a cook, I knew nothing else. Making ready to “work the problem” of foreign travel and limited language skills allowed me to discover new connections, to reaffirm the importance of meeting around the table, able to learn from each other, and to make the big world a closer world. 

We are making plans to meet again in Spain.

Mark Rosenstein

Palermo Soho

12 febrero 2020