San Luis, Córdoba & goat in a clay oven

If I were ever on the run from the law, there’s one place I’d go, where I’m positive I’d never be found again, tucked away in the heart of Argentina: the Sierras that separate the provinces of San Luis and Córdoba. A beautiful mountain range where I could live out my very own Butch Cassidy lifestyle. 

I’ve had the pleasure of spending time in rural San Luis, staying in my travel buddy’s beautiful little red house, with no internet, storms like you’ve never seen before and a lot of spiders. It’s definitely a different way of life than I’m used to—however with that being said—it’s not a bad way of life by any stretch of the imagination. For example, Provincial Route 1 in San Luis is some of the best road I’ve ever been on – surfing the tarmac surrounded by fields of Palm trees and the mountains forever accompanying you along your journey. It’s proper roadtrip material. Unfortunately the same can’t be said for the smaller dirt roads in and around the various small towns. Every time you drive a car down one of those, you’re treated to your very own sandstorm. You may as well go on horseback, although it would be game over if you encountered a rattlesnake along the way (which are quite common I was told). 

San Luis has a really special place in my heart, it’s a place I never sought to visit, but now that I’ve experienced it, I’ll always look for an excuse to go back. If I could best describe the area around the Sierra, I’d compare it to the song ‘A Horse with No Name’ by America. It’s rugged, full of wild animals and plants always looking to prick or bite you, and, most importantly, it’s hauntingly beautiful. You feel far away from everything and each night you’re treated to a night sky which makes you feel as if you were locked in a planetarium. 

Another great part of that area of the world: the food. 

I’ve been fortunate enough to visit some incredible places and eat some amazing food, but if someone were to ask me: “What’s the best meal you’ve ever had?” I don’t think I’d have an answer. However, if I was asked what’s the most memorable meal I’ve ever eaten, there’s only one place that springs to mind: Parrilla San Isidro in Luyaba, Córdoba. 

Now, saying you had your most memorable meal in a Parrilla in Argentina is like saying the same for a Fish & Chips shop in England. So what makes this Parrilla in a tiny village in the middle of nowhere so different? The simple answer: their all-you-can-eat menu. There are only two options: Goat or Vacío (Flank steak). Both come on a wooden board and both are accompanied by these—frankly amazing—roast potatoes that have been doused in lemon, salt and paprika (as far as I’m aware). In all honesty, I don’t know what’s exactly on those potatoes, many times I’ve tried to recreate them, many times I’ve failed. 

But still, many places in rural Argentina serve goat, so what makes Parrilla San Isidro so unique? Maybe it’s the clay ovens they use, maybe it’s the tiny stream that runs beside the outdoor eating area, or maybe it’s because it’s the only restaurant I’ve been to that’s had a chicken roaming its premises whilst I’ve eaten a meal. I can’t quite put my finger on the exact reason, but I do know that despite having to bat away flies whilst eating, I’d prefer to eat there than anywhere else. 

Entering the restaurant—even on a Monday afternoon—and it’s packed. That’s a good sign. The party of three I was part of gets to choose: inside or out? Considering it’s summertime in Argentina, outside is the more pleasant option. We get comfortable at the table and are rapidly approached by a waitress who—without hesitation—is greeted by our need for the wooden board full of delicious goat and an ice-cold 2.5L glass bottle of Coca-Cola. Not even five minutes pass and we’re ambushed by a small mountain of Goat and those golden potatoes. I think I’m in heaven. I take a smallish piece as it’s my first time trying goat, then suddenly as the fork reaches my mouth, I’m hit with the fatty, rich, oily flavours of the meat, as well as the beautiful, heavenly crunch of the skin, it’s like nothing I’ve tasted before. Therefore, it would only be right to consume two more boards between the three of us. 

After we finished eating all the goat we could possibly stomach, the waitress came towards the table once again and hesitantly asked: “Dessert?” Usually I wouldn’t think twice about dessert, especially when homemade Flan con Crema y Dulce de Leche is on offer, however, after such a meal it did take me a good ten seconds to kindly oblige. 

The simplicity of the meal is what makes it what it is, the no nonsense attitude of the whole establishment gives it an authentic and delightful charm that couldn’t possibly be fabricated, if anyone finds themselves in Luyaba—for whatever reason that would be—go to Parrilla San Isidro, get that goat.