The wood in the old asado pits was quebracho — quiebra-hacha, “axe-breaker” — and it burns so hot and so long that a fire built at noon is still working at midnight. We are not going to sell you quebracho. The Gran Chaco has lost an enormous share of its forest, quebracho is a slow-growing hardwood at the center of that loss, and the last thing those trees need is another buyer with a nice story. So ours is cold-smoked over sustainably sourced oak for twelve hours, and we would rather tell you that than tell you something better.
Anywhere a dish wants fire it did not get. Pan-seared steak, roast potatoes, scrambled eggs, popcorn, corn on the cob, a bloody mary, tomato soup. Also the honest shortcut for cooks in apartments with no grill, which is most of them.
