Five days and we're in love

All three of us fell in love last night.

For Island Girl, it was the dulce de leche cheesecake. For Becca and I, it was our waiter, El Guapo. For all three of us, it was the restaurant - Sucre.

And TJL, you may be wary about siphon and vino, but had you tasted this wine last night - wow. Best bottle of white wine I've ever tasted.

Talk about a sensory overload.

We walked into the restaurant last night and it was as though we were suddenly transported into one of the hippest restaurants in New York City. It's all one enormous room with a two-storey high bar lining one wall, all backlit and providing the only pop of colour in the room. The wine cellar was actually a free-standing room within the main restaurant (TJL you so could've gone in there and examined it, it was enormous), dividing it up into smaller more intimate sides, and everywhere was couches and tables, all in dark greys and rich woods and glass. Mirrors lining the other wall.

Oh boy, was pretty much all the girls could say. I was too busy drooling.

Everything was pretty much just about as perfect as it could get. We ordered a bottle of Torrontes, a spiced white wine that we'd read about, and it was perfectly cold and light and clear but with such a punch - it killed the last Best Bottle of White Wine I've ever tasted, the Zonnebloem at Tuscany's. (I don't know why I can remember Best Bottles of White Wine but never remember any fantastic bottles of red wine, but anyway.)

For my family, I will describe the food in detail. We started off sharing a salad with dried fruits, nuts, and some special leaves that I've never tasted before, and the tart tatin. Even the olive oil is more olivey here, so olivey that IG, who doesn't actually love olives, is kind of put off by it. (Becca and I, on the other hand, are practically chugging the stuff.)

Then, for the platos principales, we moved on to a crab risotto for Becca, some kind of pork thingy with sweet potato wedges for IG, and a gnocchi with mushrooms and tomatoes for me. Every time either one of us took a bite we'd practically keel over from delight. And every time someone sampled something off another's plate, they'd stare and practically shout in awe, "That's SO good! That's SO good!".

The Tittertons would destroy this place, I kept thinking. I want to fly the entire family all the way to Buenos Aires just so we could eat there. WAGS!

By dessert, Rebecca and I just couldn't take anymore. Robyn was a champion and went for the dulce de leche cheesecake (it made her so happy that she couldn't stop laughing while she ate it). As by that point we had also moved on to our second bottle of Torrontes, we were all so content that I could've just sprawled out on the table and died right there.

And then, there was the service.

I'm still not sure if he said people know him as Ricky or Keegan but as we've dubbed him El Guapo it doesn't matter. Rebecca and I did our best to turn on the charm but much of our innate powers were lost in translation as we fumbled around in clumsy Spanish (when Becca joked that she didn't want dessert because she was trying to lose weight, his response was to give a long lecture about a study done in America which showed that men actually like bigger girls more, instead of just telling her how ridiculously beautiful she was already and that he wanted to marry her). Robyn wasn't much help - she just kept repeating "Que rico!" as she raved about the cheesecake.

But we must've done something right. At the end of the night he gave us the card of the restaurant so that we would come back - but he also gave us another card, his own personal card.. Becca, who took them from him, glanced at it and honestly, her face just convulsed. With that same strangled look she passed the card to me.

MASAJE CALIFORNIAN, it read.

Oh God.

Even though we're still not sure if he was trying to drum up business (hey, we've wanted massages since we arrived here) or if wants to hang out, clearly we are emailing him today.

Talk about que rico!