Argentina is famous for many things: tango, red wine, steak. It was the latter we were most looking forward as we sat down to lunch. The smell from the grill wafted towards us. We salivated reading the menu. We all ordered the same. Bife de chorizo. The tender, slightly fatty, incredibly delicious slab of meat, grilled to perfection.

Emily and I decided to split a salad, split a steak. The others ordered their own. The waiter brought theirs first, then two plates for Emily and me. He placed the platter with the steaming steak down on the table. With a soup spoon, he began to cut the beef in half. I quizzically looked across the table at Emily, I had never seen this before. She returned my look. We supressed snickers as the waiter continued his task, not without struggle. As he left, we noticed the Argentinean couple at the table next to us also staring in disbelief at the severed-by-a-spoon steak.

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