Comiendo "panchos" en el tren Argentino (sale mal) / Eating "panchos" on the Argentinean train (goes wrong)
Una de las cosas que me llam贸 la atenci贸n cuando llegu茅 a Argentina, fueron sus costumbres a la horas de comer. Mientras en Venezuela, la hora del almuerzo es cuando degustamos un buen plato de comida, buscando el equilibrio entre prote铆nas, carbohidratos y grasas saludables, ac谩 muchos optan por algo r谩pido, dejando el plato fuerte para la cena.
Obviamente, en casa hemos mantenido la costumbre de nuestra tierra, pero cuando el tiempo apremia, agradecemos tambi茅n esas costumbres y poder comernos algo r谩pido en el camino, sobre todo porque adem谩s de los vendedores ambulantes, existen locales en los que puedes comprarlos mientras esperas.
Pero claro, cuando no es costumbre, el cuerpo lo resiente, aunque el cerebro y las ganas de comer digan adelante.
Este d铆a, mi peque帽o y yo ibamos un tanto apurados a una cita con una amiga, y aunque le ofrec铆 comer algo en casa, el prefiri贸 no hacerlo, pues la promesa era comer fuera. Salimos sin comer para llegar a tiempo, y poder almorzar en el centro comercial donde ser铆a nuestro encuentro.
Pero nos jug贸 en contra, que siendo fin de semana, el transporte no tiene los mismos horarios, y aunque siempre llevo alg煤n snack en el bolso, pues prevaleci贸 la costumbre de comer algo m谩s sustancioso en la hora del almuerzo.
Mi hijo ya ten铆a hambre, y una galleta no era suficiente. Mientras esper谩bamos en el tren, me dice: mam谩, y si me compras un perro caliente? (como le decimos en Venezuela a los panchos) y pues, no lo vi mal, ya que en casa se los hago de vez en cuando.
Entre comprar una chipa o un sandwich de Mila a un vendedor ambulante, irnos a uno de estos locales, me pareci贸 que ser铆a mejor opci贸n. Compramos uno solo, aunque yo ca铆 en la tentaci贸n de darle el primer mordisco, digamos que como "control de calidad" y el resto lo degust贸 tan r谩pido que ni foto pude sacarle.
Abordamos el tren sin novedades, pero al bajarnos me dice que le duele la panza. Yo pens茅 que era por quedar con hambre y le dije que ya en el colectivo llegabamos r谩pido para comer, pero la realidad fue otra. Nunca llegamos a la cita!
El malestar se agrand贸 y lo llev贸 a devolver todo. Por supuesto, que eso cambi贸 mis planes, y ese encuentro tan esperado con 
Lo que me extra帽贸 es que a mi no me gener贸 malestar, pero obvio, cada organismo es distinto. Por eso no pienso satanizar al inocente pancho o a la chica que nos despach贸. Pero igual me sirvi贸 para que mi peque帽o aprendiera la lecci贸n de comer en casa, as铆 sea un poco, y no dejarse llevar por la tentaci贸n.
Y es que no todos estamos acostumbrados a recibir una "bala fr铆a" (como decimos en mi pa铆s)
One of the things that caught my attention when I arrived in Argentina were their eating habits. While in Venezuela, lunchtime is when we enjoy a good plate of food, seeking a balance between proteins, carbohydrates, and healthy fats, here many opt for something quick, saving the main meal for dinner.
Obviously, at home we have kept the customs of our land, but when time is pressing, we also appreciate those customs and being able to eat something fast on the go, especially because besides street vendors, there are shops where you can buy them while you wait.
But of course, when it's not a habit, the body resents it, even though the brain and the desire to eat say go ahead.
On this day, my little one and I were somewhat rushed to a meeting with a friend, and although I offered him something to eat at home, he preferred not to, as the promise was to eat out. We left without eating to arrive on time, and have lunch at the mall where our meeting would be.
But it played against us that being the weekend, the transport does not have the same schedules, and although I always carry a snack in my bag, the habit of eating something more substantial at lunchtime prevailed.
My son was already hungry, and a cookie was not enough. While we waited on the train, he says to me: mom, what if you buy me a hot dog? (as we call them in Venezuela panchos) and well, I didn't see a problem with it, since I make them at home from time to time.
Between buying a chipa or a Milanesa sandwich from a street vendor, going to one of these shops, it seemed like the better option. We bought only one, although I succumbed to the temptation of taking the first bite, let's say as a "quality control," and he devoured the rest so quickly that I couldn't even take a photo.
We boarded the train without any issues, but upon getting off, he tells me that his stomach hurts. I thought it was because he was still hungry, so I told him that we would quickly arrive by bus to eat, but reality was different. We never made it to the meeting!
The discomfort worsened and led to him getting sick. Of course, that changed my plans, and that long-awaited meeting with
What surprised me is that it didn't make me sick, but obviously, every body is different. That's why I don't intend to demonize the innocent hot dog or the girl who served us. But it did serve as a lesson for my little one to eat at home, even if just a little, and not to be swayed by temptation.
Not all of us are used to receiving a "cold bullet" (as we say in my country).
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