pockets of joy

LNY tradition of dumps and friends lives on. And expanding it to include the dumplings of your people. Any iteration, savory or sweet, of filling wrapped in carbs will do.

And the first thing that always comes to mind as an alt dumpling is empanadaaaaaas. I love empanadas. I almost forgot about them prior to my first trek to South America. My mind being solely focused on hunks of meat, just slabs of meat seared over the fire and washed down with bottles of red wine. It wasn't until we crossed the border from Chile to Argentina and stopped over at La Esperanza for some carne empanadas that I remembered how freaking satisfying these little deep fried pockets of goodness are.

Deep fried, not baked, because apparently back in the day, having an oven was rich people status.

These little landing spots, the only sign of human activity for miles, were where we could pee, stretch our legs, and obtain sustenance. And sometimes take selfies with baby goats (not pictured).

And suddenly the door to empanadas had opened, and that was all I wanted everywhere we went. On our way to check out the most amazing glacier I've ever seen, tour leader Alfredo asked if we'd be interested in an empanada making class for dinner. Sir, do you know me? I was taking deep heaving breaths, hoping I wouldn't vomit all over the bus from car sickness, but yes yes yes to empanadas.

Guanaco (their llama basically) braised in beer filling.

Folded and crimped to look like a braid.

Deep fried in lard until its all blistered and brown - the only time these adjectives are positively appropriate?

Tip: when you think you have enough filling, you don't. Stuff more in there, seriously.
This was not nearly enough:

Chalten was the sweetest little backpackers town surrounded by mountains, and as the gateway to the towers (probably better known to some as the Patagonia logo), they are some beautiful mountains. I-can't-believe-people-wake-up-to-this-view mountains.

We had a lot of spare time to explore one of the many trails or the only street in town. There I passed a cute modern snack store called Simple where I picked up two empanadas, a bag of carrot chips, and a bag of yucca chips. And ate in 1.5 sittings back in the hotel room.

One pancetta with leek and queso that needed wayyyy more filling.
One espinaca that I could've eaten a million more of.

I didn't have my next empanada until we made it back to big city civilization in Buenos Aires. I passed by a true hole in the wall bakery on my way to the Palermo neighborhood. I don't even know what it was called - there were just shelves of empanadas and a paper sign that said "Panaderia." Got two fat carne empanadas and two cheese puff balls.

Cafe Tortoni is apparently the oldest cafe in the country. Stop in if you want to have a microwaved empanada and an overly sweet dulce de leche latte while feeling like you're in Italy.

The filling was good, but I was not impressed. Nor satisfied. You really just go for the bustling Italian cafe atmosphere.

As if I need to be reminded that hole in the wall food establishments are the best place to go. La Cocina was tucked in the back of like floor 2.5 in a mall off a busy street. I wandered through twice before almost giving up on it. If there weren't tables and chairs outside, I might not have explored further.

But glad I persisted because I picked up two of the most random and unique sounding ones on the board and they were hands down my favorite empanadas on the trip.

Pikachu is apparently a cheese, onion, and sweet chili sauce.

The other one I can't remember the name of (except that it began with a 'P') is a spinach and egg one. Like a whole half an egg.

I wish I got one of each of their options.

Still salivating about them right now.