Rebellion and experimentalism – the signature of the vanguard – are the historical and cultural legacy bequeathed by Argentina’s literary reviews. The country’s small magazines assumed their present shape in the twenties, that auspicious decade of economic and social optimism. As cultural manifestos were vigorously being penned across the globe, Buenos Aires adopted its own reputation as the intellectual hub of South America – the so-called ‘Paris of the South’, a coinage that still lingers today.

But beneath the surface of bohemian glamour lurked glaring social contradictions that informed much of the groups’ cultural and political struggles. Portals of poetic, philosophical and artistic trends, the reviews fostered a strong artistic community, lending writers a sense of collective purpose.

This week’s Top 5 lists some of the literary journals that have acquired a mythical status in the cultural imagination. Many of the polarised views and vitriolic debates of the 1920s were stirred by two competing literary factions: the Florida group – dubbed the Martinfierristas – and their counterpart, the Boedo group, contributors to Claridad. Cosmopolitan, urban and elitist on the one hand and international and socialist on the other, they constantly pushed artistic and political boundaries. Of a much less militant strand, the long-running magazines Sur and Contorno were instrumental in providing a forum for the writers of Argentina’s literary golden age.

Victoria Ocampo with her review 'Sur' (Photo courtesy of Wikimedia)

Sur

Founded in 1931 and published regularly until 1970, Sur was the most vocal literary and cultural outlet in Argentine letters in the twentieth century. Sponsoring a cross-fertilisation of the arts – poetry, philosophy, history and the visual arts – it secured its iconic status for a generation of writers for whom the small magazine was a natural counterpart of the literary salon.

Its longevity was due, in large part, to the sound financial footing of its founder and lifelong editor, Victoria Ocampo, as well as the intimate friendship she cultivated with one of the country’s most famous writers Jorge Luis Borges. Sur provided the occasion for a number of literary encounters, including the introduction of Adolfo Bioy Casares and Ocampo’s younger sister, Silvina Ocampo.

Despite its name, Sur’s contributors ranged far beyond the local scene, including Virginia Woolf, Jean Paul Sartre and William Faulkner, to name just a few. Cultivating ties with foreign luminaries did lead to its derogative branding as extranjerizante – a term that indicated its allegiance to cosmopolitan, elitist, European models.

Whilst never brandishing a manifesto, and in spite of its apolitical ‘art for art’s sake’ agenda, the magazine articulated its own brand of liberalism – a resistance to mass culture and nationalist populism. Many cultural positions adopted throughout the twentieth century were often positioned by their adherence to, or distance from, Sur’s creative manual to the arts scene.

Claridad cover (courtesy of Claridad)

Claridad

A screaming face bursts out of montaged buildings; a man brandishes a florescent torch; a Grecian goddess dances precariously on a sphere, beneath which reads ‘the pedestal of social peace’. Founded by Antonio Zamora, Claridad hit the press in 1926 with the stated mission to mediate the cultural debate, until that time monopolised by another review named Martín Fierro. Inspired by the French magazine Clarté, it gave voice to a militant group of intellectuals who advocated social integration fostered through the arts.

Claridad’s editions serve as documents tracing the developments of leftist thought in the first half of the twentieth century. Its ideals addressed both the influx of immigrant workers and the internationalism of the left. The first editions provided a platform for Russian literature, French social realism, and the dissemination of new national voices – especially those affiliated with the Boedo group, as well as the work of Argentine artists Xul Solar and Emilio Pettoruti.

Designs by the so-called ‘People’s Arists’ served as a vehicle for the dissemination of social protest and the struggle of neglected sectors of society. Its provocative, ideologically-freighted covers owe much to the futurist and constructivist aesthetic taking off across Europe.While reviews of films by directors Léon Klimovsky and Alfonso Longuet introduced readers to the experimental gaze of Soviet and German expressionist cinema, the Boedo group believed that aesthetic development was inseparable from political consciousness.

Martín Fierro from 1924

Martín Fierro

Founded by Evar Méndez in 1924, the innovative literary magazine acquired a mythic status in its mere three years of publication. A product of the wave of the avant-garde literary reviews that sprang up in vanguard circles throughout the 1920s, Martín Fierro set out to disperse the new ideas that were taking Europe by storm, and assimilate them into the national agenda. Recalling the eponymous epic poem by José Hernández, the Martínfierristas sought to explore the ‘topography’ of criollismo – collapsing distinctions between national tradition and a modern, democratic aesthetic. The gaucho was subsequently recast as a cosmopolitan, flaneur figure, and a frequenter of the shabbier districts of the city.

Martín Fierro’s signature is a wry, sardonic humour, notable in its pseudo-obituaries. Apollinaire, Picasso, Corbusier, and Stravinsky were just some of the eminent international figures that found their way on to Martín Fierro’s pages – as well as Argentine writers including Leopoldo Marechal and Raúl González Tuñón.

The provocative ‘Manifesto of Martín Fierro’, penned by the avant-garde poet Oliverio Girondo, clearly owes much to the Futurists’ vitriolic agenda, debunking moribund traditions and catapulting Argentina into the twentieth century. Méndez discontinued the publication in 1927, unhappy that a faction of the group were using its pages to garner support for the presidential campaign of populist leader, Hipolito Yrigoyen.

Contorno cover from 1953

Contorno

Hailed as a landmark publication upon its inception in the mid-1950s, the contornistas occupied a niche ground in political and cultural journalism. Founded by brothers David and Isamael Viñas, it produced only ten editions over the space of six years but, in that period, successfully formulated a new critical idiom. In keeping with a core group of Argentine intellectuals, one of Contorno’s most salient features was its militant anti-Peronism – viewing the 1955 overthrow as a moment of liberation. Their provocative manifesto, ‘Terrorism and complicity’ set out to dismantle the pillars of an antiquated arts tradition and bourgeois complacency. Contorno’s revisionary approach did, however, come under severe criticism from those who believed the magazine served merely as a vehicle to dismantle the cornerstones of Argentine tradition.

Despite its eschewal of the past, Contorno sought to advance a cultural agenda that would account for the stark realities of Argentine life, reproblematising relations between literature and society. The periodical published the work of an important coterie of writers, including influential contributors such as Juan José Sebreli, Oscar Masotta and Alejandro Rozitchner.

Highlight entries include Roberto Arlt and the Argentine novel and Ezequiel Martínez Estrada and the essay. Acutely aware of its place in the avant-garde tradition, it contextualised its own project with an essay, ‘Martinfierristas: their time and ours’.

Proa reviews

Proa

Proa, the oldest Latin American publication still in print, was founded by Argentine writers Borges, Macedonio Fernández and Eduardo González Lanuza in 1922. Coeval with Martín Fierro, it shared many of its vanguard populist principles – including free circulation in libraries, bookstores and amongst friends.

Originally emulating the triptych design of the Spanish magazine ULTRA, it provided a platform for eminent European and Latin American writers of the era. Two years later, Proa was relaunched from Borges’ Recoleta abode with $50 capital, donated by Georges Braque, Alfredo Brandan Caraffa and Pablo Rojas Paz. The new version, with illustrations from Borges’ sister Norah, as well as Pedro Figari and Adolfo Gramojo, showcased the works of Pablo Neruda, Raúl González Tuñón, Roberto Arlt and Eduardo Mallea. But, constantly stymied by a lack of capital, Proa stopped publishing again the following year.

Silvina Ocampo and Bioy Casares relaunched the magazine in 1988 – a project that Borges ad unsuccessfully attempted since 1982. Proa’s content includes short stories, poetry, essays, literary, film and visual arts criticism. The magazine was again forced out of print following the 2001 economic downturn but was subsequently taken on until 2003 by Chilean publishers. In its third phase, Proa still has a circulation of over 17,000 with a wide distribution throughout Latin America.

Leopoldo Marechal is a second-time-around success story; an author acknowledged only retrospectively as one of the most significant names in Argentine writing.

Following on from Jorge Luis Borges, Oliverio Girondo, Adolfo Bioy Casares and Silvina Ocampo, the Beyond Borges series looks at the prolific poet, occasional playwright, essayist and novelist whose unpopular political stance resulted in his most accomplished writing being deliberately overlooked for decades.

Rediscovered by later generations, his full-length novel ‘Adán Buenosayres’ was one of the first Spanish language texts to have be deeply indebted to James Joyce’s ‘Ulysses’, and is today considered one of the pioneering, must-read works in Argentine literature.

Leopoldo Marechal in Buenos Aires

Life and Early Work

Marechal was born in Buenos Aires in 1900; the eldest son in a family of French-Uruguayan and Basque-Argentine descent. He received a modest upbringing in a southern suburb of Buenos Aires and, from the age of ten, spent regular holidays with his uncle in Maipu. These early experiences provided an exposure to rural environments that would influence and specifically feature in much of his writing.

Having already begun the “dangerous habit” of counting syllables with his fingers, he wrote his first poems aged only 12. At 18, and only shortly after the death of his uncle, he suffered the loss of his father – an event that pushed him into a teaching career he would maintain for much of his life.

During the 1920s Marechal became actively involved in the avant-garde journals ‘Proa’ and ‘Martin Fierro’, along with the likes of Macedonio Fernández, Girondo and Borges. Amidst this climate of literary fervour he published his first collection of poetry in 1922.

‘Los aguiluchos’ bore echoes of earlier modernist influences while a second collection, ‘Días como flechas’, was published only four years later but adhered more closely to the avant-garde trends of the time. Though both titles revealed the same influence of nature and expression of passion, the latter demonstrated more of the finely tuned elements that framed it well within the reformist movements of the period.

In 1926 Marechal travelled to Europe where he wrote for several Spanish journals and surrounded himself with the artists and sculptors of the ‘Paris group’. He returned briefly to Argentina but, in 1929, returned to Paris where he completed his third book, ‘Odas para el hombre y la muter’. Marking something of a return to classical forms, the book received recognition in Argentina in the form of the prestigious Premio Municipal de Poesia.

An article by Marechal in the magazine Martin Fierro

As the 30s came around, the writers of the influential Florida group began moving away from the avant-garde, signifying an era of aesthetic conversion that witnessed many about-turns and relinquished ideals.

Marechal went on to publish several further books of poetry and won the Premio Municipal de Poesia a second time in 1940 for his book ‘Sonetos a Sophia’. By the end of the decade he seemed well on track to become one of Argentina’s most accomplished poets, had his political opinions not impinged so badly on his future literary success.

Adán Buenosayres

Despite being the author of three novels, almost 50 years of poetry and several plays and essays, ‘Adán Buenosayres’ is the single novel for which Marechal is now most known. Far longer than many of the celebrated Argentine novels before it, the 1948 edition covered 741 pages and was divided into seven books.

Purposefully named after Adam in a biblical sense, the Adam of Marechal’s novel also happens to be Argentine, and porteño, Parts one to five take place over three days and narrate the adventures of the principal character, while the sixth and seventh books make use of a more intimate first person; the sixth serving as Adán’s autobiography, and the seventh describing his symbolic descent into hell. Since the novel’s prologue informs us of his fate, Adán’s status as a mythical character is almost immediately secured from the offset.

As much poetry as it is prose, and as autobiographical as it is fictional, the mood of Marechal’s classic is one of its most noteworthy aspects. Its sarcastic and mocking spirit goes some way in tempering the melancholy sentiment of the story itself, and a linguistic richness accompanies its enormous flow of images and symbolism. Often compared to James Joyce’s ‘Ulysses’ the novel aspired to do for Buenos Aires, and for the variations of the Spanish language, what Joyce’s novel had done for Dublin.

Marechal's urban novel aspired to do for Buenos Aires what Joyce's 'Ulysses' had done for Dublin (Photo: Kate Bowen)

Rejection and Rediscovery

Had Marechal published his novel ‘Adán Buenosayres’ shortly after he’d begun writing it in Paris in 1930, its success story might have looked different. As it was, by the time the novel was published in 1948, its reception was marred by a general reluctance to detach the work from the political position of its writer.

A century earlier, the controversial ideologies of Domingo Faustino Sarmiento had likely succeeded in garnering more public attention for his historical essay ‘Facundo’, but Marechal’s masterpiece paid dearly for its author’s political allegiances.

Having initially aligned himself with a generally accepted trend of catholic nationalism, the author later declared his allegiances to the government of Juan Domingo Perón – a move that resulted in his work being shunned by his contemporaries for almost two decades.

Although his writing was not directly political, from 1945 there was no going back. Marechal would become known as the Peronist of his generation and, as such, his work would be purposefully overlooked until new political winds took flight.

Besides the favourable opinion of a select few writers and the ardent admiration of Julio Cortázar, the first publication of Adán Buenosayres slipped into oblivion. Its reissue, almost 20 years later, caught the attention of a younger generation whose historical interest in Argentine literature led to the novel’s resurgence and its current recognition as a pioneering work in Argentine writing.

The novel has since been translated to French in 1995, Italian in 2010 and is currently being translated into English for publication this year.

Following on from Jorge Luis Borges, the Argentina Independent continues the Beyond Borges series with an author who, if Borges had not existed, would almost certainly have become a more widely known advocate of the Spanish American avant-garde. The Argentine poet Oliverio Girondo was, for many, the best Argentine poet of the 20th century and today remains one of the most treasured.

Portrait of Oliverio Girondo

A Rival for Borges

Born in 1890, both Girondo and his wife, the contemporary poet Norah Lange, mysteriously shifted their dates of birth back one year to 1891.

The son of wealthy parents, he experienced a privileged upbringing and a solid education was secured for him in prestigious schools in England and France. A deal struck between Girondo and his parents meant that even when he returned to Argentina to complete a law degree, he would still be able to return to Europe every year.

Like Borges, he encountered the exponents of the European avant-garde at an impressionable age. Both authors played an active part in introducing the first of the vanguardist movements to settle in Argentina, both became high profile writers competing for the literary crown of Buenos Aires, and both fell in love with the same woman.

The feud which ensued over Borges’ unrequited love for Girondo’s wife has somewhat stolen the spotlight away from Girondo’s writing. But, an irreverent and provocative author, a fierce observer of society, and a demonstrable deep understanding of what it means to be human reveal Girondo as a fit rival for Borges in many respects.

Advocating the Avant-Garde

Besides a brief attempt at theatre in 1915, and a unique narrative effort named ‘Interlunio’ 1937, Girondo remained first and foremost a poet. His three act play, ‘La Madrastra’ was an infectious melodrama, afterwhich he says he “tore papers”, discarding his writing in cities as far flung as Edinburgh, Seville, Bruges and Dakar, before eventually compiling new writings with those he had saved into his first collection of poetry.

Revealing the obvious influence of French writer Guillaume Apollinaire, ‘Veinte poemas para ser leidos en el tranvia’ was published in France in 1922; the same year that Borges’ early poetry, ‘Fervor de Buenos Aires’, was published in Argentina.

Together, they are regarded as the major initiators of the avant-garde in Argentina, though rather than focusing on Argentine content, Girondo’s work was inspired by a frenzy of foreign cities and more international in its outlook. Having met with rave reviews in France and Spain, it received more critical attention on home soil following the publishing of its second edition.

Girondo's poetry on the cover of Proa Magazine

Back in Buenos Aires, Girondo became heavily involved in the avant-garde magazine ‘Martin Fierro’. Founded by Evar Méndez and named after José Hernández‘s influential gauchesque poem, the magazine brought Girondo into contact not only with Borges, but also with the great philosophical thinker Macedonio Fernandez and the gauchesque novelist Ricardo Güiraldes, with whom he would go on to found Sociedad Editorial Proa.

Méndez later described Girondo as the great animator of the movement, and it was he who had authored the ‘Manifesto de Martin Fierro’, published in the fourth edition of the magazine on 15th May 1924.

As an advocate of the avant-garde, Girondo travelled to the countries of Chile, Peru, Cuba, Mexico and the United States of America, returning to France and then to Spain, where he published his second volume of poetry, ‘Calcomanías’, inside the Madrid editorial ‘Calpe’, in 1925.

The book was well received on both sides of the Atlantic and reviewed by Borges, who described Girondo as “a violent man who looks at something for a time and then suddenly slaps it in the face, crumples it up and holds on to it for safekeeping”.

Regardless, Girondo returned to Argentina with an increased presence. Appearing on radio broadcasts alongside Güiraldes and other exponents of the vanguardist movement, he concentrated his efforts on a major overhaul of Martin Fierro, ensuring the success of the magazine for almost another 25 years.

A Man of Words

Having travelled once again to Paris, Italy, Egypt and the Basque region, Girondo returned to Buenos Aires for the launch of this third book in 1932.

Probably the most talked about of Girondo’s six poetry collections, ‘Espantapájaros’ is both provocative and memorable. Opening with a formal tribute to Apollinaire, the book of around two dozen poems revels in refreshing humour. Launched in Buenos Aires alongside a bizarre and unprecedented publicity campaign, its first edition of 5,000 copies sold out in only 15 days.

Described as so “spectacularly original that even with advanced warning you are still going to be more surprised by it than by anything else you have ever read in your life”, ‘Espantapájaros’ comes packed with expressions of double meaning where innuendo runs rife.

The poem 'Yo No Se Nada' arranged in the shape of a man

In Girondo’s hands, words acquire new and unexpected meanings so that reading him rarely leaves you as you found him, leading to several of his works being labelled untranslatable.

Like Borges, he also moved away from ultraist trends to explore more elaborate metaphoric language. He was increasingly described as a humourist poet and, where his earlier poetry had tended to center on the image, the writing that followed began to reveal a love of linguistic experimentation that bordered on dangerous.

With a title that already hints at its maturity, ‘Persuasíon de los días’, published in 1942, is considered his most important work. Including as many as 54 poems it is also his most extensive, and reveals the playful sarcasm of ‘Espantapájaros’ to have been left far behind.

In a final irreducible gesture, ‘En la masmédula’ was unleashed like a carefully planned whirlwind in 1954. A dark summation of his work and a showcase of revolutionary syntax, it included poems such as ‘La Mezcla’ and ‘Mi Lumía’, a poem that inspired authors such as Julio Cortázar.

Described by his protege, Enrique Molina, as “one of the most daring adventures of modern poetry”, Girondo’s final book of 16 poems left readers and critics so stunned that the publishing house, Losada, chose to extend the volume on two separate occasions. ‘En la masmédula’ was republished once in 1956 with 26 poems, and again in 1963 as a collection of 37.

A lifelong poet and truly revolutionary man of words, Oliverio Girondo renewed and revived Argentine poetry over a period of 40 years. The Chilean poet Pablo Neruda, as well as the Argentine poet Leopoldo Marechal have composed poems in his name, and musicians such as Fito Páez have also dedicated songs to him; a testament not only to his own importance in Argentine writing but also to his lasting influence.

Full moon over Buenos Aires skyline (Photo: Beatrice Murch)

Buenos Aires is a city full of impressive architecture and spectacular scenery. From the imposing towers of Puerto Madero to the multi-coloured streets of La Boca there’s much to be enjoyed simply by looking about. But unless you’re lucky enough to live in a penthouse apartment, being able to see more than the block that surrounds you is sometimes difficult.

In this week’s Top 5 we bring you some suggestions of places you can go to take in some of the best views of the city. And with summer very much upon us, what better way to make the most of those cloudless days than to step up and see the city from a different level?

The view from Palacio Barolo over Plaza del Congreso at sunset. (Photo: Beatrice Murch)

Palacio Barolo on Av. de Mayo

Constructed between 1919 and 1923 and inspired by the work of Italy’s supreme poet, the Palacio Barolo is one of the most striking and architecturally notable buildings in Buenos Aires. Located on the grand Av. de Mayo and reaching an impressive 100m into the air, it affords some of the best views in the city whilst serving as an attraction in its own right.

Imagined by wealthy agriculturalist Luis Barolo and realised by architect Mario Palanti, the building’s 24 floors were designed to reflect the path travelled by Dante in his ‘Divine Comedy’. Guided tours of the building begin on the ground floor in a rather eerie looking ‘hell’, moving up to the ‘purgatory’ of the fourth floor, and ending with an elevator ride to the 14th floor, where a continually narrowing spiral staircase winds up a further six floors to ‘paradise’.

Whilst the long and challenging ascent might make you feel that little piece of paradise is well deserved, the breath-taking views will compensate for any shortness of breath you might have been feeling and the eight surrounding balconies offer an admirable view of the city to anyone willing to brave the height, and the slightly frightening winds.

Besides the two buildings next door, Palacio Barolo is the highest point for at least half a kilometre in any direction, making it incredibly easy to pick out the compass points of the city: Retiro, Puerto Madero, Barrancas and Almagro. On a clear night, it’s even possible to spot Quilmes far off in the distance.

One floor up affords even more privileged views of the surrounding area, but another short trip skywards takes you to the lighthouse where a completely glass exterior allows for views that take in the city in its entirety.

Daytime tours cost $50 and run on Mondays and Thursdays between 4pm and 7pm. Night time tours are offered on Wednesdays and Fridays at 8pm and Thursdays at 8:30pm for a price of $95 including a glass of wine. All tours are conducted in Spanish and English. To reserve a place please email or visit palaciobarolotours.com.ar for more information.

Avenida de Mayo 1370, pbarolo.com.ar

The view from Nivel 23 over 9 de Julio. (Photo: Rosie Smith)

Nivel 23, Hotel Panamericano

If you’ve ever wondered where those postcard shots of Buenos Aires iconic avenue are taken from, a good guess might be the 23^rd floor of the Hotel Panamericano. A stone’s throw from the Obelisk on Carlos Pellegrini, the hotel’s ‘Nivel 23’ hosts a spa, gym and pool area that comes complete with bar, sunloungers, and probably the best views from any outdoor hot tub in the city.

Open only to guests, walking in simply to enjoy the view is out of the question, but clientele and invited visitors can gain a real sense of the city’s geography from the 360-degree vantage point of the hotel’s top floor.

The north-south line of Av. 9 de Julio crosses from left to right, punctuated by the landmarks of the Obelisk and the Teatro Colón, whilst the neighbourhoods of La Boca, Barracas and Constitución lie to the southeast, Balvenera, Caballito and Flores to the west, and the neighbourhoods of Palermo, Recoleta and Retiro stretch off to the north in a view that’s nothing short of awe inspiring.

Carlos Pellegrini 551, tel. (54 11) 4348-5000, panamericano.us

The view from A222 over downtown. (Photo: Rosie Smith)

A222 Restaurant

 The A222 restaurant, located on the 19th floor of the Comega building on Av. Corrientes, puts a new spin on the phrase ‘high dining’. From its enviable position atop an impressive office complex, you can enjoy a 180-degree view of the city while you choose from a mouth-watering selection of starters, main courses and desserts.

With large windows on three sides, almost every table affords spectacular views. If facing the river, the old Correo Central is directly below you, with the office buildings of Puerto Madero looming up just behind. The Puerto Madero Yacht club nestles snugly between office buildings, a large expanse of green separating it from the river.

Views of the coastline extend out from both the left and right, giving you a real sense of the vast size of the dock area, and, so high up, it’s a peaceful place to sit and ponder whilst watching a steady stream of cargo ships ambling off into the distance.

An upmarket yet friendly atmosphere and a slightly dated decoration lend A222 sophisticated charm. Starters are priced at around $70, with main courses for around $90 and delicious desert options for around $55.

Avenida Corrientes 222, tel. (54 11) 5199-0222, a222.com.ar

La PROA (Photo: Beatrice Murch)

Proa Museum, La Boca

With its focus on the great art movements of the 20th century, Proa contemporary art gallery in La Boca is known for showcasing some of the best art from Argentina and the rest of the world. Lesser known is that from its café/restaurant on the second floor you can also enjoy an enchanting view of the La Boca docks.

Although not the most attractive landscape at first glance, the dilapidated charm of the colourful surroundings is sure to grow on you, and Proa’s second floor is elevated enough to offer a refreshingly different perspective from the usual street-level view of the area.

Big windows look out from a light and airy café onto a covered deck where several suitably artistic sofas make sinking back with a coffee all too easy.

The café’s menu consists of a wide selection of drinks and snacks including a delicious cupcake selection, sandwiches and salads, main courses and desserts. After an interesting couple of hours exploring the nearby streets or the museum below, relaxing to the slow rumble of cargo lorries never sounded so appealing.

General admission to the museum costs $12, discounted to $8 for students and $4 for pensioners.

Avenida Pedro de Mendoza 1929, proa.org

Retiro and the port at sunset (Photo: Beatrice Murch)

Restaurant Club Danés

A short walk from the Plaza San Martín, Club Danés is an intimately sized restaurant with a calm atmosphere and a simple, cafeteria feel. Found almost full on a recent Thursday, it’s certainly popular among those seeking out a lunch break with a view.

The best tables are, without a doubt the ones that flank the northeast-facing window, through which the many towers that dot the riverfront appear almost alien in a picture perfect view that’s far removed from the bustling reality of 12 floors below. But unfortunately, the size of the venue means there’s little chance to enjoy the view when sat anywhere else.

The menu, as the name suggests, reflects a heavy Danish influence with fish featuring prominently among the four main courses on offer each day. Portions aren’t large but come well presented and taste good, so you won’t feel overly cheated, and a decent selection of desserts reveals, refreshingly, not a hint of dulce de leche in sight.

Leandro N. Alem 1074, clubeuropo.com