Celebrating Revolution Day
- Ian Rosenberg
- May 25
- 3 min read
I clearly had not done my research, because I entered Argentina not realizing that I would be there for one of the nation’s most iconic holidays: 25 de Mayo, or Revolution Day.
Though it’s not their independence day, that happened six years later, this represents, truly, the birth of the Argentine nation. This is when, in 1810, the first autonomous government was established in Argentina, over the area surrounding the Rio de la Plata, near Buenos Aires.
Today, though, May 25 is an energetic crossover between the American holidays of Independence Day and Thanksgiving, both with very strong familial and indigenous traditions, and with an explosion of patriotism all around the country. Upon finding out about the holiday, I positioned myself to be able to celebrate in Saldán, a suburb just outside of Córdoba, at their Pancho Barrón festival.
Like Thanksgiving, there is a main staple food that everyone in the country will eat. It’s called Locro, which is a thick, orange stew made from squash, beans, and corn, throwing in various different types and cuts of meats, and cooked for hours in a massive vat over an open flame. Given its base of squash, beans, and corn, you can tell that it is clearly a dish with native roots.
When I arrived at Pancho Barrón, I was greeted with literally hundreds of pots of locro sitting over their fires, the sizzle of thousands of empanadas frying, and the hum of families all walking around, enjoying their day together. I walked from stall to stall. Each one, an elementary school, the fire department, a church, a club soccer team, or parents, grandparents, and grandchildren. These people were sharing the same dish but infused with the love of whatever has brought the chefs together. It was so beautiful seeing the smiles all around, the bright orange, the chefs’ matching shirts, and everybody walking with their full plastic containers of locro.
We all sat around the main square of Saldán, at large, wooden impromptu tables eating our locro out of our plastic containers, with our plastic utensils and thermoses filled with hot water for mate. I took the first bite of my locro. Not a fan… It was very thick and creamy, but in it were just chunks of fat and meat. The texture mostly got me, I have to say. The taste wasn’t too bad, it was quite neutral with smokey undertones, but again, I just couldn’t get over the combined chunky-creamy texture. I ended up grabbing six empanadas from one of the empanada stands and surviving on those until the evening.
Soon after we all sat down, the music began. They had about 8 hours of music and comedy planned for the night, featuring several local folclore performers (including one group consisting of an 18-year-old, a 13-year-old, and a 9-year-old, all amazing musicians!!), and to end it off, they got one of the nation’s top modern folclore artists to perform for us.
The entire afternoon was spent clapping, banging on tables, and dancing. I befriended a local family, who were curious as to what a foreigner was doing at Pancho Barrón. And of course, they first introduced themselves to me by offering me a sip of their fernet con coca, as many people had done previously… In Argentina, and in Córdoba particularly, rejecting a sip from a communal liter of fernet con coca is practically a sin, and offering a sip is often the most authentic Córdobes way to meet someone. The family taught me how to dance chacarera, a flowery Argentine courtship folk dance, involving flamenco-like snapping and careful circling around your partner. During the chaos of the night, I don’t think anyone ever realized, nor cared, that I didn’t know how to actually dance chacarera. But I’m so glad I learned, so that I can use it as I head north into real folclore territory!
During the grand finale, presented by folclore legend Sergio Galleguillo, I learned that it is custom to throw flour in the air during his performances. The family was kind of explaining that it’s a kind of blessing derived from indigenous traditions, but they didn’t give me too much detail about why we threw flour. Just that we did. Everything and everyone got absolutely covered in flour.
It was just a really fun, pure celebration of patriotism. From the folclore indigenous to the north, to the indigenous flour blessings, the traditional locro and empanadas, and the fernet con coca, this day was truly Argentina celebrating what it means to be Argentine.
Comments