Cryptic Cocina Sunae – Buenos Aires, Argentina

The wise traveler to any foreign country will walk the walk, talk the talk, and dance the dance. I’d like to think I was wise in Argentina. I did a lot of walking because the subway wasn’t running and I couldn’t figure out the buses. I tried to talk the talk, but we both know how that went. And most importantly, I tried to dance the dance.

I hardly need to expound on the merits of Argentine tango, but I also did a different kind of dance in BA - the culinary kind. Because isn’t a good meal just the successful execution of choreography from a chef?

After the tango, the best dance in Argentina is the puerta cerrada. Spanish for “closed door”, these places hold all the mystery of being set in a private home and sit in top-secret locations, which are not revealed until you repeatedly confirm your reservation. I went for the thrill of the chase because with no location disclosed, I was literally hunting my food…and because I can’t afford a hunting license…

The dining room at Cocina Sunae is set off from the rest of the house so you don’t feel like an intruder, with beautifully serene modern décor. Mood-lit like a dance hall, this room is flirty in the right places, romantic in others, always leaving you the option of adding a little heat.

The room was enchanting, and the Gai Tom Kha was magic. Laugh all you want, but I’ve never had a dish go from bland to flavorful over the course of a bowl. The first sip actually sucked. It started as a bland white broth that progressed to savory and flavorful as a single thin slice of Thai chili released all the notes of sweet coconut with sweet’n’sour lemongrass and gingery galangal.

Over the past few years, I’ve developed a fear of shrimp almost as great as my fear of dance partners with two left feet. I’m not much better, but my concerns are centered in foot-stepping. Shrimp is easily overcooked at which point it becomes rubbery, and even the smallest of feet become bigger, easier targets when you dance. But I had no reason to fear the shrimp in Sunae’s Yum Mamuang. This salad had only the sweetest flesh. It’s hard to make a salad stand out, but this one had an element of polish and finesse that comes only with mastery. The ingredients were well-proportioned, and you rarely find natural combinations better than shrimp, avocado, and mango. The citrus dressing enhanced the entire salad subtly, adding the finishing touches to complete the package.

It’s dishes like the Sisig that put the belly on my belly. I think the tender, fatty, finely-chopped belly of pork goes straight to the ring around my belly for storage, and I can only hope it will recede if I tango just enough. Depressing nutritional facts aside, this dish progresses much like a dance. When you first learn to dance, you start with the basic step. A basic sisig sizzles on a skillet, and Sunae has clearly mastered the tender-yet-crispy pork. Then you build on the basic. Change the pattern and you move in a different direction. Add a turn to spin or twirl, and change your grip to do a dip. Applied to the plate, the pork belly is a solid basic, but it’s the egg and chicharon that add a twist to the melt-in-your-mouth quality of the dish. Break the chicharon into the pork belly like crackers into soup to add a satisfying crunch to the soft pork. No dance is complete without good music, and the garlic fried rice accompaniment was so simple yet amazing that I couldn’t decide which side of the platter I liked better.

When it comes to dance, I’m all about the innovation. Creative choreography gets my juices flowing, and there’s nothing more stifling than a dance that’s been done. Props for the creative fruit fusion in the Halo Halo, but sometimes even the most carefully choreographed steps just don’t go together. Here the grapefruit with its usually bitter finish played the overly-dominant partner who leaves little room for others to shine. This bitterness compounds with the darker bitters of the green tea ice cream, drowning out the softer, sweeter notes of lychee and passionfruit.

Despite the dessert, there’s not a single thing I regret about Cocina Sunae and almost nothing I would change. Their dancing dishes capture the spirit of all that is delicious and express all the joy of the indulgence. Cooking really is a dance - the chefs just spin and twirl on a different kind of stage. Some are lighter than air, some are a little heavier-handed, and others are dynamic, and all styles converge for an experience you won’t forget. All dance is beautiful (except for the more garish side of modern), and like a dancer well-trained, Sunae executes her choreography with unparalleled grace.