3-Bites Friyay: Pop-Ups, Press Trips & Air-Fryer Epiphanies

Plus, my BA hit list: where I’m booking tables next

3-Bites is a quick, weekly taste of what I’m into and why you should be into it too. It drops most Fridays—hence the name “Friyay.”

I’m back in BA after hopping between Mendoza and Santiago, and gearing up for even more LATAM culinary adventures ahead. If you haven’t noticed, restaurant “high season” is in full swing: the dining calendar bulges with international chef–led pop-ups and prensa people lobbying for coverage. The stakes are high; one nod from the right table can keep a dining room booked for months. From now until July, (when voting ballots close for a major restaurant ranking) the food scene goes full-on Oscar’s campaigning mode. This tends to mean a nonstop circus of special dinners, festivals, and press trips all vying for your appetite and attention.

AIR FRYER ERA

I used to talk a lot of shit about the air fryer. I dismissed it as a glorified microwave for reheating chicken nuggets. It might suit busy parents, but I never saw it as serious-cook territory. I’d forgotten I’d said that until my best friend reminded me and called me a snob and a hypocrite. Perhaps she’s right. When I was working on Jamie Oliver’s documentary and his team mentioned they were making an air fryer cookbook, I silently judged. When air fryer TikToks came up, I’d scroll past them with an eye roll. Ugh, people and their stupid air fryers, nobody cares!

Oh all the delicious foods that will be shaken, air fried, and devoured in this basket!

Cut to now: I’m in my AIR FRYER ERA. It started in the U.S. at my dad’s house, where the seed was planted via perfectly roasted fingerling potatoes. Then last week in Santiago, I bought the Ninja 4-in-1 at Falabella for $100 (in Argentina they cost about 4x that, hence why I didn’t buy it here). It didn’t fit in my suitcase, so I raw-dogged it through the airport, barely fitting in my oversized “personal item” bag. Ten kilos, no box, and it sailed through customs unscathed.

Now, as we speak, I’ve got sweet potatoes, plantains, and butternut squash crisping away. And maybe, if I’m feeling loca, I’ll throw in milanesa, which only takes 10 minutes to cook from frozen. It’s efficient, precise, deeply satisfying, very little oil required, and it cooks up ingredients better than my oven ever could. Shall I dare call it life-changing? Absolutely. And yes, you might be thinking “yeah bitch, we know, we’ve been air-frying since 2018,” I’m late, but here I am, and I’m never going back.

Pop Up Pulse: Trescha x Celele

Jaime Rodríguez of Celele in Cartagena cooking at Trescha in Buenos Aires. Photo by Damian Liviciche.

On Wednesday night, I went to a pop-up: Jaime Rodríguez of Celele in Cartagena cooking at Trescha in Buenos Aires. Two restaurants I’ve had on my list for a while: Celele for its research-driven take on Caribbean Colombian cooking, and Trescha for its meteoric rise in Argentina’s fine dining scene, picking up a Michelin star, a Young Chef Award, Best Sommelier recognition, and a place on Latin America’s 50 Best list, all in only two years.

When I walked into the restaurant, the PR rep greeted me with, “I know you don’t like these kinds of places…” I stopped her. “That’s not true,” I said. Because it isn’t. I don’t hate fine dining. I actually enjoy it when I’m in the mood. But that mood is rare. I have to be willing to sit for hours, surrendering to edible metaphors, tweezers, and tableside sauce pours. Sometimes I’m into it. Most of the time, I’m not.

Spending five hundred dollars on a single dinner in a place where most people can’t even afford groceries can feel tone-deaf. And yet, as a food writer, my job isn’t just to judge with my wallet; it’s to report on the very ecosystem where ideas are born. Fine dining may be elitist, but it’s also an incubator for technique, talent, and storytelling. It’s where chefs collaborate with local communities, experiment with rare ingredients, test culinary boundaries, and cultivate ideas. I like to think of these kitchens less as luxury temples and more as high-fashion runways—what debuts here inevitably trickles to the wider food world. (Insert Miranda Priestly’s speech here from the Devil Wears Prada.)

Some of you would never spend that kind of money on a meal (I wouldn’t either). Some of you would. And I’ve come to learn that both are valid. That tension between access, aspiration, and reality is baked into this industry, and the job of a communicator is to cover the full spectrum. Or at least, that’s how I justify going to fancy restaurants while the world is on fire.

I’m heading to Cartagena next month, and Jaime’s work has fascinated me for years, especially his deep research in collaboration with the botanical garden, local biologists, and small producers to preserve Colombia’s coastal biodiversity. “The majority of the work we do, diners don’t see,” he told me after service. “It’s our relationship with the local community that makes everything possible.” I was curious to taste how those flavors translate in a different context; and compare them later on his home turf.

Smoked white fish with banana peel and algarroba. Photo: Damian Liviciche.

The menu was a true collaboration. Jaime’s side included smoked white fish with banana peel and algarroba; scallops grilled in turmeric leaves with mote de orejero; an edible flower salad with pickled cashew fruit and moringa; and a flan de iruwa with choiba foam, topped with a beautifully printed edible paper. After years in this industry, it’s still exciting to taste new ingredients I’ve never heard of.

Trescha responded with their signature tan tan ramen with nduja and sweet potato milcao; crispy molleja with lemon and fried chicken foam (yup, that’s a thing), and their signature “Otoño” dessert, all paired with Zuccardi wines. It was one of those rare pop-ups where the food worked. I left wanting to visit both restaurants in their natural habitats.

Food writers in the wild. Photo: Damian Liviciche.

Trescha doesn’t have any tables, just a bar overlooking the kitchen, which feels more like a stage. I sat next to Daniel Arbós, a food writer from Spain, and we spent the night commiserating about the job. Eating and traveling professionally doesn’t leave a lot of room to complain—unless you’re seated next to someone else who also does it for a living.

Twelve courses, nine Zuccardi wines, and two Negronis later, I made it home by 2 a.m. I missed my early kickboxing class, but made it to the 11 a.m. one.

Note: I was invited by Trescha, but as always, what I write (and if I write anything at all) is entirely up to my own free will.

BA Hit List: Where I’m Dining Next

I don’t know about you and your friends, but mine aren’t eating out nearly as much as we used to. What was once dinner out three nights a week has dwindled to maybe a few times a month, and it’s not just our circle feeling the pinch. Bloomberg reported in March 2025 that, as Milei’s policies have strengthened the peso, Argentines are “ditching restaurant meals”, dinner tabs have effectively doubled in local currency, and poorer neighborhoods are seeing the steepest declines in patronage. I checked in with my boots-on-the-ground source, Mariano Ramón of Gran Dabbang, and he confirmed it’s city-wide belt-tightening. “It’s hard to gauge spending because of the distorted dollar,” he says, “but when I talk with colleagues, we all agree that everyone’s down.” Mariano added that his average check per person today is about USD 36, compared with a nine-year norm of USD 17. His dining room closed April roughly 10 percent below 2024 covers and 20 percent under April 2023, a stark shift in spending power.

That anecdote tracks with the official data. INDEC via MercoPress reports that in April 2025 the restaurant sector’s CPI jumped 4.1 percent month-on-month (vs. 3.7 percent in March) and a dizzying 70.9 percent year-on-year since April 2024 . At the same time, a mid-range, average three-course dinner for two climbed from roughly USD 47 last spring to about USD 60 today.

So what does all this add up to? I’ve become a more deliberate diner. I won’t drop fifty bucks on a meh meal when my air-fryer nails it every time, and after weeks on the road I’d much rather cook at home. Yet Buenos Aires still has tables worth stepping out for, and every reservation counts, especially as both new and longtime spots need our support. I’ve refreshed my hit list with (mostly new) pending places I want to try next. If you’ve already been, let me know which deserves our pesos and which you’d skip. Let’s make every night out count.

My BA hit list.

My BA Hit List:

Ada • Acuario • Cucha del Parri • Victor Audio Bar • Bordó • Ultramarinos • Tony Wu • Mitingu • Cora Café • Sanguchito • Yakinilo • Aspen • Olla7 (Acido’s Bodegón) • Fraga Bodegón • Otoro • Evelia’s milanesa • Abreboca • Roa • Trescha • Marta • Cuartro Perros Un Living • Doma • Fico • Carmen Boedo • Ness al mediodía • Manija Café • Copetín Fiat • Fo Guang Shan • TukTak • Don Hernaccio’s • Café Rivarola • Casa Parra • La Casa Vivero • Junior • Kimchi Garden • El Patio de Mabel • Rosie Café • Citadino • Piedra Pasillo