There I was slouched, sweating, eyelids sinking…sinking…sinking, but I had to rally. Afterall, I was in the middle of an eating contest, albeit informal, at a restaurant in Buenos Aires with all you can eat sushi called Business. And plopped down in my seat somewhere in Recoleta I needed every ounce of business I could muster, undoubtedly like thousands of customers before me.
We began our night by greedily watching our salmon rolls being prepared, ignoring the baskets of bread given as appetizers, and used our ample waiting time to absorb the sensational collage that was the mind child of some interior designer with or without previous experience. The space itself is pretty small and laden with a pastiche of Americana and quasi-Japanese decorum, an in vitro fertilization between Vegas and Osaka gone awry. The warmly lit red interior was complimented by a long marble encrusted sofa, hanging gold glitter camel, and large picture of Marilyn Monroe. A drop down projection screen played sped up film footage of a car racing through traffic, some random Elvis clips, and avant garde rubbish. All of this was presented to the senses with a soundtrack twisting its way through electronica, rock, and techno. Some sort of digestive aid, perhaps.
Finally, after what seemed like an hour of watching grass grow (our concept of time severely deranged due to hunger I’m sure) a large plates with 32 pieces of sushi were placed in front of each of us. In the end it was poorly executed, but my attack strategy was to maintain a well measured cadence in collusion with intermittent water breaks. Note: this general approach is equally applicable in all “Tenador Libre” (All you can Eat) situations.
The sushi wasn’t the best quality and it was mostly salmon, with a tiny bit of tuna and some crab or crab derivative, not to mention an excessive amount of cream cheese. Proudly, I can claim to be the only person not to try to pass them off to someone else. That said, not being the best does not make it the worst, even though it’s not quite a ringing endorsement. However, my total consumption count of around 40 pieces says something. Either I am incredibly cheap or the sushi was decent. Maybe both.
By the time I finished my first plate of 32 I was ready for an IV, but to the amazement of our waiter I placed an order for another hit. Using what reason I could find in my soy and wasabi saturated brain I downgraded to only half a plate. After a few minutes of much welcomed inactivity my new pristine plate arrived amidst the carnage on our table. Other peoples areas looked with miniature war zones with strewn ginger, pools of soy splatter, and shrapnel rice. This is probably why others grabbed at my sashimi from all sides. However, well past the pointed of being sated, I put up absolutely no resistance and my stomach secretly rejoiced.
By the end I was thoroughly useless and satisfied with the value I had squeezed from my 46 pesos ($15 USD) one uncoordinated chopstick pluck at a time. For people of a less compulsive or gluttonish disposition there is a normal menu of sushi and other offerings to choose from, but frankly this never crossed my mind.
We arrived around 10 pm and the place was a ghost town, but shortly into our meal people streamed in and by the time we left there were barely any seats available outside or inside. For groups with more than two people it probably would make sense to just make a reservation, since it is really no hassle.
Featured Product From MPTours.com
Download a walking tour of Recoleta on MP3.