Dear passengers,
in a few minutes we will arrive
at Ministro Pistarini International Airport.
The current time in Buenos Aires is 1:10 a.m.
The weather conditions are good.
It is clear, and the temperature around is 8 degrees Celsius.
On behalf of the captain and entire crew,
we wish you a pleasant stay. Thank you for flying...
NOTHING
Nada.
What?
Antonia!
Hey! The package has arrived!
Hey, pal! You're here!
My friend...
Episode five.
To throw butter on the ceiling.
Tirar manteca al techo.
To waste with crude ostentation
something that one possesses in abundance.
You must be tired.
For now, let's sleep. We'll talk tomorrow.
Alright.
- Antonia. - Yes?
- Help the mister. - Okay.
- See you tomorrow. Bye. - See you tomorrow. Bye.
Hey.
- Thanks. - Okay.
Thank you.
Good night!
No, no. No, no.
Yeah...
I... uh...
Phobia.
Pho...
Wait. Wait.
I need at least one open door.
Always. I beg you.
- Do you understand? - Yes. Good night.
Good night. Thanks.
Thanks.
Hm.
Sorry!
Sorry, sorry.
Always an open door.
Sorry.
- Good morning. - Good morning, dear.
- Did you sleep well? - Very well, thank you.
Where are your socks?
I learned it from Antonia.
She's always barefoot.
It's liberating.
Since when does an old dog learn new tricks? But, OK.
Are you ready for breakfast?
Yeah, yeah.
Antonia!
That is very good. Very, very practical.
Pay attention, Antonia.
- This class is also for you. - Yes.
Repeat it after me.
Medialuna.
The shape says it all. Half moon.
Media... medialuna.
I know the medialuna.
This is a "vigilante."
A guard. A policeman.
- Vigilante. - Perfect.
Here's where it gets rough.
Cañoncito de dulce de leche.
A cannon. Like in war, get it?
Yeah, yeah.
"Can... canon," boom!
No, no. Cañón, cañón.
With the mouth, ñón.
- Cañón. - That's it.
Con dulce de leche.
- What? - Con dulce de leche.
Dulce de leche. Moving on.
This is a churro.
Pay attention to the double "R." Churro.
Excellent.
One last thing.
The most difficult of all.
Bola de fraile.
- What's that mean? - Friar's testicle.
It is very explicit.
These are the balls...
the testicles... of a friar.
Bola de fraile.
Perfect.
You're a true Argentinian.
Thanks.
Dig in.
Very, very, very sweet.
Too sweet.
Yeah.
Have some mate to cut the sweetness.
Drink it.
Strong.
Go get me half a pill of trimebutine.
It seems to me that his stomach is weak,
and I need him well for lunch.
Okay.
Strong?
Strong, yes. Thanks.
Interesting.
The Obelisk is Buenos Aires' symbol.
It was heavily criticized at first,
but it seems that the porteños ended up liking that phallic symbol.
- Got it? - Yes, got it.
But I...
The one in Washington I think is bigger.
- Yes? - Yes.
You think so?
You don't say.
My good man, how are you?
Great. Starving.
A good steak, then?
Of course.
- With eggs, right? - Of course.
Doneness?
He doesn't understand.
Bring him what I like.
Let me introduce my friend Vincent.
Take good care of him. He is a very important person.
Really? And... what does the gentleman do?
He is a writer, a journalist. One of the most important in the world.
- No, no. - Not "one."
The most important.
Don't you speak a little bit of Spanish?
Sorry, I don't speak Spanish.
A little.
I'll tell you the rest, dear.
A chorizo, a black pudding, some gizzards,
and a chicory and garlic salad with olive oil.
Here's the wine menu.
Take your time.
Any wine will be overwhelmed by the chorizo steak,
so it doesn't matter.
Bring a house wine and some sparkling water, please.
Waiter...
Chimichurri, please.
Of course.
I know that, chimichurri.
She seems very nice, Antonia.
How old is she?
- 20 years. - Oh.
Perfect.
She'll last you a lifetime. Your lifetime.
Can Antonia come to New York to work for me?
No way.
No, no, no...!
What happened to that girlfriend you had the last time I was here?
The very beautiful lady.
Grace?
Yeah, Grace.
- She is still beautiful. - Oh...
But we lasted... very little.
We're friends.
You'll see her at the presentation.
- Oh. - If you're interested.
- No, no, thanks. - And you?
Still a ladies' man?
Oh...
I'm actively looking for my next ex-wife.
The third time is always the charm.
I mean, you know, I-I meet women all the time,
but it never seems to work out.
Understand? I'm not like you.
You're married to the city, it's a different thing.
I'm in the middle of a "parrilla"...
No, parrilla.
Parrilla.
Very well, parrilla.
...with an old friend, having a wonderful lunch,
but usually I'm on a plane, I go here, I go there...
at a university, accepting an award, or giving a lecture,
or having lunch with some president.
I'm here, I'm there, I'm everywhere. I'm nowhere.
So, what woman's gonna put up with that, right?
I mean, I already know two women who haven't,
and they cost me a fortune.
Excuse me. Here's our main star.
Look at this!
Nine hundred grams of grass-fed Angus veal.
Pure tenderness.
Oh, no.
That... that... that spoon has to be sharp.
He says the spoon must be sharp.
Let's turn it around, then.
Okay.
Beautiful.
Beautiful, he said.
Beautiful.
Look here. Closer.
Closer.
That's it. "Whisky!"
One more.
Yeah, "whisky."
There we go.
Let's see.
- Great. Great. - Good.
- Bye, guys. - Bye, bye...
Let's go.
We've walked so much, I'm dead.
My feet are killing me.
Well, I'm sweating.
It's just such a big, big city.
Humongous.
Yes.
So?
This is called pira caldo.
It is a restorative broth, so you can recover from your walk.
Holy shit, this is sublime.
What did he say?
"Shit" means "awful."
He says he finds it horrible.
Hm...
Why eat it if he doesn't like it?
Antonia, you're a wonderful cook.
Wonderful. You should leave this guy and open your own restaurant.
He says cooking this badly,
you'll never get a job in any restaurant.
Mmm.
Tell him I don't care.
No. Don't say anything.
Very good. Very, very good.
So he likes it?
I didn't understand what he just said.
But for me, as far as I can tell, it's flawless.
You could even open your own restaurant.
If Celsa saw you, poor thing...
Well, not "poor thing." She had a rotten personality.
Don't say that.
Delicious.
I don't get him.
It's so good.
So what else? That same week,
you'll meet Japan's Prime Minister...
- Uh-huh. - ...just before the G7 in Brussels.
And then I have that thing in Brussels too.
You're being granted the Honoris Causa degree
at the Université Libre de Bruxelles.
Yeah.
Then, in Paris, you have the MasterClass at the...
Let's not do the MasterClass. Let's...
Let's postpone it. Not postpone it.
- Let's just reschedule it. - I'll try.
- I can't. - Well...
How's it going in Buenos Aires?
I'm having a good time at a friend of mine's house,
particular type of house. Kind of interesting, though.
I'll send you some pictures.
So, I'm going this afternoon to the presentation of the book,
then I'm going to the airport, and I'll be in New York tomorrow.
What time do I get in tomorrow?
- You land at 9:30... - OK.
...and then right away we have that big brunch with the editors.
Oh, I can't--I can't eat a lot.
I can't think about food for another couple of days.
I'll do something, but simple.
OK, so, I... I'll tone it down. Light breakfast, something simple.
- Okay? - Okay. See you then.
- Bye. - Bye-bye.
See you tomorrow.
I'm just going to park, then I'll go in.
Are you ready?
Yes, let's go.
Hello?
Hey, Aunt. Is something wrong?
NOTHING
Hello, everyone, it's my pleasure
to be here with my friend Manuel, and I would like to start
to read you an excerpt from his book.
I have the text in English because, um...
I don't speak Spanish, and I...
I don't have the courage to read it in Spanish.
So please bear with me, and I hope I do justice to--to Manuel's work.
"The chorizo enigma.
What a leap of faith it requires..."
The door, open, please? Open.
The door, please.
The door must always stay open, please.
- Thanks. - Go on.
"The chorizo enigma. What a leap of faith it requires
to surrender to the vital experience of such a noble element
of the national idiosyncrasy.
Its mysterious filling and its controversial variants
remain prodigiously hidden until it is too late.
But let's move on to the highest manifestation of chorizo:
the choripán.
Essential, minimalist, austere, stripped.
A chorizo within a piece of bread. And that's it."
Sorry.
Excuse me.
"Let us now delve into some aspects
of chorizo that are not culinary,
but rather sociological and anthropological..."
Antonia, where are you, dear?
It has already started.
I came back home.
I wanted to clean everything up before I go.
Go where?
To Paraguay.
To Paraguay? What happened?
My grandmother had a stroke.
She is hospitalized.
It is very serious.
My aunt called me just as I was about to enter,
and I didn't want to say anything not to ruin his book presentation.
My bus leaves from Liniers Station in two hours.
Tell him that I'm sorry.
"We now turn to a medical issue related to chorizo.
As we know, the fat content of chorizo is very high,
which would lead us to assume
that its consumption would make our cholesterol skyrocket.
But no. Chorizo is completely harmless to our health.
There is a convincing and irrefutable scientific explanation.
Chorizo does not harm you because you eat it happily.
You eat it with high defenses.
At that moment, you are absolutely immune.
It is the famous good cholesterol,
in spite of what the medical eminences say,
who know absolutely nothing."
Thank you. And now I leave you with Manuel.
- The hell's going on? - Amigo mio, I have to go.
I need you to face the rest of the presentation alone.
It is a case of force majeure...
Antonia.
Use my notes, if you want to fill in.
Ladies, gentlemen...
an unforeseen situation has arisen.
But I leave you in very good hands.
Thanks.
Give me some money.
After this is finished, he needs to be driven to the airport.
Can I trust you with that?
Always.
Good. Thanks.
Thanks.
Well, there's been a slight change of plans.
Hey, there.
Can you take me to Rocha and Garibaldi for 500 pesos?
Not enough.
But I take card, transfer, virtual wallet...
Well, I have none of those.
Take me for 500 pesos, come on.
You damn son of a bitch!
Manuel has an emergency to attend to, so, um...
he asked me to read his notes.
So...
"Do not forget to thank the assholes
from the publishing company..."
A ticket, please.
I'm going to Rocha and Garibaldi.
Curse my rotten luck. Just another dumbass.
- Pardon me? - Don't you have the card?
I have cash. How much is it?
No, I can't. You have to get a card,
buy fares and only then can you come...
Just take this.
I can't. I'm sorry, but I can't.
But it's 500 pesos. It's way more than the fare costs!
Yes, but...
Goddammit! Let him in! I'm late for work!
Come in, come in. Go, go, go.
- That's it. - Good morning. Up, come on.
Good morning. Come on up.
- Grandpa, have a seat. - No way. Grandpa? Screw that.
It's fine, chubby. Keep the seat.
Look, I'm gonna be honest with you.
I would like to close this presentation
by telling you a little bit about my friend...
Manuel Tamayo Prats.
Manuel is the reason why everyone is here.
Well, everyone but him, so...
I met him at the end of the '80s, on a trip to Buenos Aires.
The local committee wanted to give me a gastronomic tour of the city...
and Manuel was in charge of selecting the restaurants.
Antonia!
That's how we got to know each other.
Mr. Manuel, I apologize for rushing off like that.
My grandma is hospitalized, and I must care for my daughter.
I leave at five for Asunción on the Guaraní Express.
I promise I'll call you when I get home.
Thank you so much for everything you did for me.
The Manuel I met 30 years ago
has nothing to do with the Manuel I met now.
That Manuel, full of dogmas and habits,
emotionally handicapped,
incapable of doing even the simplest tasks,
so dependent, and at the same time, capricious like no one else--
brilliant, yes, but also snobbish and frivolous--
that idiotic genius no longer exists.
And the force behind this change is a Paraguayan girl
who's four times younger than he is,
but with five times more life experience and history.
The triumph of the ordinary over the banal.
Eh...
Hey! Hey!
Sir!
What happened?
My grandmother is very ill.
My daughter is staying with my aunt, but she can't take care of her anymore.
What a bummer!
But everything will be fine.
Okay. Good luck, Antonia.
Thanks. You didn't have to come.
It's not every day my best housekeeper returns to Paraguay.
The best?
Well, second best.
I'll pay you the month in full, okay?
There's something I wanted to tell you.
What?
- I lied to you! - About what?
About my license.
I didn't pass the exam, and they didn't give me the license.
I didn't want to tell you so you wouldn't kick me out again. Sorry!
Sorry.
Well, have a good trip!
Now my friend is a better guy thanks to her.
Willing to face adventure, to fend for himself...
something unprecedented in him.
Enjoy Manuel's book. It's unique.
Thank you.
NEW YORK USA
How did it end?
Well, Manuel did not forget Antonia, as expected.
And the story continued in a humble village in Paraguay.
BUENOS AIRES DINER
- Thank you. - Bon appetite.
PARAGUAYAN POSTAL SERVICE
Why am I telling you the whole story about Manuel?
Because he's having surgery today.
He finally took courage, and he made up his mind.
I like the fact that he chose to have the intervention.
I think it's a vital and optimistic decision.
Bravo, Manuel.
Excuse me.
Remember that I made a reservation for dinner tonight?
I want to toast with you for my friend Manuel,
and may he be lucky in this damn operation.
Manuel!
Kisses.
Phone.
The glasses too, please.
Thanks.
Oh.
Speak of the devil.
It's a message from Manuel.
Hello. You know I must get a difficult procedure.
I'm recording this video in case things don't go well.
In case I die.
I had a lot to say in this message,
which could become posthumous.
But I realized that the things
I've always believed were transcendent and important
now seem stupid to me.
If I'm honest, I don't have shit to say.
All the nonsense I had to say, I already said in life.
So I've exhausted my repertoire.
But in order not to disappoint my esteemed audience,
I'll tell you one very important thing:
Live and let live, and don't be annoying.
Kisses.
What else can I tell you about Manuel?
Nothing.
Subtitle translation by: Mariana Rodríguez Mustafa