Crunchy, caloric, tasty, greasy, tasty, intense. Will it be the taste of cheese, melted and hot; The potato ready: cut into millimeter squares? The combination of ham and egg? The sympathy with which Patricia Rodríguez Real answers the questions about how the stuffed tortilla is made? The precision with which Romina Moore prepares it? Or the recommendation of the documentary Street Food: Latin America, in which they star in the chapter on Argentina? For some of these reasons, here, in pavilion 3 of the Central Market of Buenos Aires, 17 kilometers from the federal capital, there are 20 people waiting to try the dishes of Las Chicas de la 3. Some are workers, but there are also tourists who, if it were not for them, would not have approached this place, far from the classic Buenos Aires circuit.
The place, of 30 square meters, is located next to boxes of fresh lettuce, bright tomatoes and very yellow melons. Pablo Seifert and Cecilia Morales are Bolivian. They came to Buenos Aires for a week and decided to dedicate one of their vacation days to the experience. "We were struck by the report they did on Netflix and we knew that we could not leave without trying the tortilla," says Pablo, and says that a taxi brought them from his hotel in Palermo. In a few minutes they will taste the specialty of the house, some vegetable empanadas, and then, as good fans, they will take a selfie with the two cooks.
It is important that the potato pieces are cut symmetrically. Mariana Eliano
The documentary Street Food: Latin America premiered during the pandemic. Patricia and Romina could work because their profession was considered essential. "But people came with creatures, who told us that they had made tricky permits to come and eat," says Rodríguez. "Crazy!" Moore says she feels uncomfortable when someone wants a selfie with her. "I'm a little embarrassed to be asked, because I'm nobody." "People want the tortilla and they want the photo," Patricia adds. Foreigners like to live the experience. "And in general, capital markets are armed for tourism. People are not boluda. He's a tourist, but he's not a boluda," he says.
More than 30 years ago, Ramón, Patricia's father, was an employee of the confectionery shop located at the top of the premises. He was promoted to manager and then, with savings, was able to buy it. Blanca, the mother, also started working there. And when Patricia finished high school, she told them she wanted to join the family business. He met Romina in 2009, at a football match. They fell in love. Within a few weeks they were dating. And two years later, working together.
The two acknowledge that, with so much demand on the other side of the counter, the couple is difficult to work with. "You have to know who each one is, assume egos and know how to ask for forgiveness," summarizes Rodríguez. On how the specialty of the house came about, he says that one day he had cooled a tortilla. "We decided to cut it in the middle and fill it. So we went from a dish that nobody looked at to another that they took out of our hands, "says the cook.
The secret, they say, is the constancy, the neatness, the quality of the raw material and the rigor in the process. "I'm looking at potatoes all the time," Moore says. "If there are bigger or longer squares, I take them out. If the mozzarella is too watery or too salty, I change it. And if the ham has dry ends, I replace it." Although it is sold in a market, they say, theirs is a signature dish.
Romina Moore pays great attention to every step of the tortilla preparation. Mariana Eliano
Per day they make 50 tortillas. Sometimes, many more. As they do not open on Saturdays and Sundays, during holidays the queue to buy becomes very long. "We know that getting here is a hassle," Rodriguez says. "But, at the same time, that allows us to be able to attend to the business in a personalized way. If we were in front of the Obelisk, we would have to work with reserve." And that there are many food offices, but very few stop at the attention from the kitchen. Moore interrupts her: "The dedication she gives to each client is a delusion. There may be six people asking for things at the same time, and she answers them all with a smile. He has admirable patience." Patricia smiles silently.
"It's also an exercise. I've been doing the same thing for 25 years. I might be rotten, but I started doing well in the year 24. Can you believe it?" says Patricia. He laughs heartily and tells a secret strategy. "Sometimes, when cutting, the portions are uneven. But the person I'm serving is always the greatest."
Some customers suggest that they put more tables, hire extra staff or have tortillas ready to heat them and, thus, reduce the delay. "I know that we could simplify the processes and put franchises in different parts of the country, but I do not want to fall into that ease. I want people, who are bitter while standing in line, to leave smiling," he says. "Like the girl who confessed to me today: 'Do you know the bad mood I had?, until I had to sit down. And, really, the experience was worth it."