Tonight, we´ve been invited for my long awaited asado at Roxanna´s place. We´re so honoured, that we´re all wearing shirts tonight. I´m wearing a shirt with Craghoppers and trainers - the best-efforts look of a would-be-smart traveller.
Roxanna´s other half, Jonathan, explains they built the barbeque, then, as an after thought, decided to build a house around it. It´s a heavy set barbeque which Roxanna has all fired up on our arrival. The Uruguayans have the art of sausage-making nailed. I´d dare to suggest the Bavarians would get a run for their money. The best of it, certainly the most interesting, is a sweet black pudding sausage. It´s moist enough to rescue even overcooked meats. There´s no danger of overcooking on Roxanna´s watch. Spectacular. I could tear through chunks of red meat all night. I suspect Steve is feeling the same, but being Englishmen at a dinner table, we temper our appetites and stop after a third helping - comfortably full.
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