Te Matare, Ari & Jeannie

The day before heading out to Patagonia, we went on a quest for fleece jackets. On the way to a camping store on Avenida Santa Fe across from the Plaza Italia, we ran across a half dozen accessories stores with fabulous prices.

We picked up two purses, three belts and (drum roll please) five slap bracelets! You remember... the ones that were outlawed in the U.S. after kids removed the protective lycra layer from the metal tape and cut themselves?

At the camping store, we found the cost of winter wear to be obsene -- especially considering that it's the middle of summer here. Some Patagonia jackets were upwards of $300 U.S. But after what seemed like hours we dug through the racks and found reasonably priced fleecewear (which you'll see throughout our Patagonia photos).

That night, we went to an "erotic cuisine" restaurant called Te Matare, Ramirez... So you can save yourself the trip to Freetranslation.com, that means "I will kill you, Ramirez." Although we had a reservation, the owner apologized profusely that there would not be a table ready for five minutes, and he gave us champagne while we scanned the circus-like nude mural on the wall. (We wish New York restaurants would catch on to this -- the champagne, not the mural.)

When we were seated, we noticed our tableside kerosene lamp was smoking as the too-tall flame burnt the red glass, giving off an acrid and unappetizing smell. Jeannie was worried that the lamp would cause injury so she grabbed the owner and told him. He swapped in a working lamp and noticed we hadn't been given menus after 10+ minutes at the table. So he apologized profusely again and brought us menus.

Thankfully, a talented singer/songwriter/cover singer/guitarist and his drummer entertained us while we waded through offensively slow service.

We both ordered fruit drinks with suggestive names, and scanned the menu. It was saturated with nude photos and art, "romantic" poetry, lewd inuendo and attempts at bodypart wordplay. It was at once fascinating and comical, since we were given the English menu which seemed to lose quite a lot in translation. Most of it made no sense, but we got the gist of it.

After several chuckles and gasps, we ordered a chicken salad, pork loin and beef. The food was OK, but we wish we took a copy of the menu so we could repeat some of the hilarious names.

A third time, after our meal, the owner approached us. He wanted to apologize 10 or 15 more times about our wait, the lamp, the service and anything else we were miffed about. In the end, we decided to forgive him. After all, if we complained further he might change the name of the restaurant to "Te Matare, Ari & Jeannie."