I can say about myself that I don’t make the same mistake twice. But when it comes to the chorizos, which I’ll describe in just a minute, I’ve been making the same mistake for years. I’ve decided to put a stop to this injustice. It’s time to stop discriminating against mothers! After a quick glace at El Gaucho Herziliya’s familiar menu, where I’d come with Yaniv, my 5 year-old son for a sleepy Friday afternoon lunch, I decided it was time to learn from past errors.
On previous visits, I’d ordered us the juicy chorizos as a starter along with empanadas or the sautéed mushrooms or whatever else could accompany the chorizos just so that ‘we don’t order the same thing’. In the end, I’d find myself sitting opposite a boy who had passionately polished off the entire place of chorizos, but had oh so generously left me with the entire place of mushrooms (which are very tasty…but honestly!)
This time I ordered each of us our very own plates of 2 cracking, straight off the coal grill chorizos. Between bites we enjoyed extremely large glasses of lemonade, larger even than the very large smile they bring to my kid’s face every time we order them.
For mains, I ordered the 450-gram entrecote with chimichurri, and Yaniv went for the ‘Pincho’ – a huge, sword-like meat skewer. Until the main dishes arrived, Yaniv and I kept ourselves busy with the cute activity page and crayons for all El Gaucho’s little guests.
The genius of the tray on which all of the meat at El Gaucho is served, and the hot coals inside it which keep the meat hot throughout the meal, I’ve talked about time and again. The Pincho, a terrifying skewer of entrecote, a quarter of an onion, half a tomato and peppers excited it’s young customer, and was also very tasty. My entrecote excited me no less and was high quality, especially with the accompanying chimichurri that I generously spread all over it. Along with the mains came a tasty green salad that allowed us to balance ourselves nutritionally. Along with the skewer, Yaniv polished off a portion of the magically named dish “Bonfire Potatoes’.
For dessert I chose, just like on my summer holiday in Spain, crispy on the outside, soft on the inside churros, rolled while still hot in white sugar. In Spain we would buy colourful churros wrapped in heavy brown paper that had been flash-fried in oil and stroll along the boardwalk. At El Gaucho this debaucherous wonder is served along with a dish of dulce de leche.
My young partner wasn’t interested in a nostalgic walk down memory lane, nor was he interested in churros, and instead chose a scoop of strawberry ice cream, which he informed me was very tasty. As a sign of solidarity, I didn’t ask to taste the ice cream. That’s how we like things, selfish eaters like us.
60 Medinat Hayehudim St.