I moved to Uruguay in 2019 and one of the first things that hit me was the food. Coming from Italy, I thought I knew everything about pasta, bread and proper coffee. Then I landed in Montevideo and realised that these people take their meat even more seriously than we take our pasta. That says a lot.

Here is what I've learned after six years of eating my way through this country.

Asado ( and why you will never go back to a regular BBQ )

Asado is not just a meal, it's a ritual. Every weekend, every holiday, every excuse really, someone fires up the parrilla ( a wood-fired grill ) and cooks meat for three to four hours. Slowly. Over embers, not flames.

The first time I went to an asado I was standing next to the asador who told me that the trick is patience. You cook the meat low and slow, and you never, ever rush it. The cuts are different from what I was used to in Italy: asado de tira ( short ribs ), vacío ( flank ), entraña ( skirt steak ), and the famous chimichurri sauce that goes on everything.

What really surprised me is that asado is a social event. You stand around the parrilla, drink wine, and wait. It's not about eating fast, it's about being together. After six years I can say that the Sunday asado is the closest thing Uruguay has to a national religion.

Chivito ( the sandwich that should not work but absolutely does )

A chivito is a sandwich that contains beef, ham, cheese, lettuce, tomato, mayo, olives, bacon, and a fried egg. Sometimes it also has grilled peppers. It should be a mess. It should not work. But it does, and it's one of the best things I've ever eaten.

The chivito canario is the full version with everything, and the chivito al plato is the same but served on a plate without the bread if you want to pretend you're being healthy. You're not fooling anyone.

Mate ( the drink you see everywhere )

If you walk through any street in Montevideo you will see people carrying a thermos under one arm and a mate in the other hand. Mate is an infusion made from yerba mate leaves, drunk through a bombilla ( a metal straw with a filter at the end ) from a gourd.

I tried it when I first arrived and I have to be honest, it tasted like bitter grass. But then after a few months I started craving it. Now I drink it every morning. The ritual of preparing mate, heating the water to the right temperature ( never boiling, that burns the yerba ), and passing it around a group is something I didn't expect to love as much as I do.

Here is how you prepare it:

1. Fill the gourd about 2/3 with yerba mate
2. Shake it gently so the dust rises to the top
3. Tilt the gourd and insert the bombilla
4. Pour warm water ( around 70-80°C, never boiling )
5. Drink, refill, pass to the next person

Empanadas ( but not like the ones you know )

If you've had empanadas in Argentina or Spain, you think you know empanadas. Uruguayan empanadas are different. The dough is slightly sweet, they're baked not fried ( most of the time ), and the fillings are unique to this side of the river.

The most common ones are carne ( beef, sometimes with hard-boiled egg and olives ), pollo ( chicken ), and jamón y queso ( ham and cheese ). My personal favourite is the empanada uruguaya de carne, which has a hint of sweetness from the dough that balances the savoury filling perfectly.

Milanesa ( the Italian connection )

This one felt familiar. Milanesa is basically the same as the Italian cotoletta alla milanese. Thinly sliced beef ( or chicken ), breaded and fried. But in Uruguay they take it further: milanesa a la napolitana has tomato sauce, ham and cheese on top. Milanesa rellena is stuffed with cheese and ham before frying.

Every restaurant in Uruguay serves milanesa. It's the default option when you don't know what to order and honestly it never disappoints.

Tortas fritas and bizcochos

Tortas fritas are fried dough, simple as that. When it rains in Uruguay, people make tortas fritas. I don't know why, I just know that this is a thing. They're crispy on the outside, soft inside, and you sprinkle them with sugar. Sometimes they have a hint of anise.

Bizcochos are the Uruguayan pastries you buy at the panadería every morning. Medias lunas ( croissants ), vigilantes, sacramentos, bizcochitos de grasa. The names are great, the pastries are better. My morning routine is now: walk to the panadería, buy bizcochos, come home, mate, bizcochos. Every single day.

The Italian in me has notes

As an Italian living in Uruguay, I have to say that some things hit different here. The pizza is not Italian pizza, and that's fine. The fainá ( a chickpea flatbread ) is something we don't really have in Italy but here they put it on top of pizza and it works.

The pasta is everywhere but it's not nonna's pasta. The ñoquis ( gnocchi ) are good though, and the tradition of eating ñoquis on the 29th of every month and putting money under your plate for prosperity is something I had never heard of before moving here.

I've also never seen so many places called "bar" that are really just restaurants where you can order a milanesa with fries and a mediocres litro of beer at any time of day. The mediocres litro, by the way, is a 500ml bottle of beer that you share. Another social ritual I wasn't expecting.

Conclusion

Uruguayan food is not fancy, it's not complicated, and it's not trying to be anything it's not. It's honest, it's abundant, and it's meant to be shared. After six years I still cook Italian food at home but the asado, the mate, and the bizcochos have earned a permanent spot in my life.

If you ever visit Uruguay, skip the fancy restaurants. Find a parrilla, order a chivito, and bring a thermos. You'll understand.