Shauna Eats Sunnyside

Birthday Carne for B at Boca Juniors

As an early birthday excursion the other Sunday (a lovely fall day), B’s Argentinean friend L made the crosstown trek from Hoboken and our triad rolled deep up the Blvd. to a steak suaree at fútbol-centric Boca Juniors Argentinean Steak House in Elmhurst.

We’d passed the proud Club Atlético haven on a few occasions, and each time, B would gasp loudly and press his face against the vehicle’s passenger seat window in speechless awe, following the fluorescently-lit banner crests into the distance until they were completely out of sight. We knew an in-depth meat marathon was in order, though the bonus of being accompanied by an Argentinean-American surgeon/wine connoisseur definitely upped our steakhouse cred on this particular night.

The overwhelming atmosphere of the packed family dining room could halt a weaker person in his or her tracks. Overstimulus manifests itself in:

• the aromas of succulent fat permeating the warm, thick air.
• the hiss of blood-red carne juice sizzling on tabletop grills.
• the raucous buzz of large-scale parties coming together over pitchers of sangria and red wine.
• the clinking of glasses being poured at the festive bar cabaña.
• live games and highlight reels blaring from overhead speakers and flashing colorfully across the room’s strategically-placed flat-screens.
• brilliant wall-to-wall fútbol decorum of the Buenos Aires-based club.
• the blur of gold-and-blue jersey-clad waiters racing swiftly from corner to corner, tense forearms stacked high with overflowing platters and the occasional avocado-topped salad, making upward glances every so often to loyally check on team scores…

B was absolutely beside himself when we were escorted to a cozy nook alongside a poster of his favorite Argentinean on the pitch, Carlos Tevez, who started his career as a teen at CABJ and is now a resident Man. U badass (he sucked the pacifier following a goal last season as a tribute to his newborn daughter). With the Apache by our side, we knew it could be nothing short of a stellar meal…

The menu is extensive, so we let L take the reins and spearhead our wine operation. She picked a tasty bottle of deep red Doña Paula Los Cardos Malbec, which is delicate and sweetly savored whence set against a rough-and-tumble bounty of red meat. (NOTE: We paid $25 for the bottle, which we took as a fair drop in the barrel for steakhouse pricing. It retails for around $15).

First up was an obligatory (ahem, FREE) spread of house bruschetta with a light tomato/onion/garlic topping, a separate basket of warm crusty bread, and a well of green chimichurri sauce. The sauce was bangin’ on pieces of loaf, which soaked up its oily base so the parsley and garlic could rest lovingly on a toasty bed. Bruschetta were snarfed with the quickness, as they went down light-and-fresh and set up our palates for round two.

Three pillowy empanadas de carne ($2 each) were delivered to our table in almost godly fashion by our nimble server, Alejandro. Not only are they HUGE, lightnfluff, and of considerable crisp, but the central stuffing comprises lip-licking, über-moist ground beef, tender onions, bits of hardboiled egg and green olives (for good luck!).

Nothing could slow us from consuming, at that point. The chimichurri, as expected, gave some tang to the textured nuggets of meat, and, although filling, are an absolute necessity.

The remainder of our order came out all at once, rendering elbow room nonexistent and further adding to the hysteria of our gorging endeavor. We got an order of two meaty chorizo sausages, a fat cut of skirt steak (yellow plate), a fat cut of shell steak (blue plate), heaping (gluttonous) sides of thin French fries and yellow saffron rice, and a Boca Juniors salad of excessive proportions (hearts of palm, avocado, grilled shrimp, hardboiled eggs, lettuce, tomato, mushrooms, and random clover strands).

Looks totally overpowering and unnecessary, and BOY WAS IT. But we stuffed…and stuffed…and stuffed.

I preferred the skirt steak, as each bite was tender, melt-in-your-mouth, and charred to perfection. The shell steak was a tad more chewy, though by no means tough. These were real-deal steaks… more akin to gnawing the thigh of a cow than most other experiences in life. Marbles of flavor-ridden chub added to their succulence—even B was a staunch supporter. We left all of the slicing and dicing to our resident surgeon friend, and L’s fingers work wonders, people. I’d love to see her wield a scalpel.

Sausages were fat and happy, with only slight phallic value and a nice springy spice. Rice was moist and mealy, fries were crispy crunchy and not overbearing in girth (good call by the Boca kitchen). The salad, for me, really balanced out the cholesterol of the entrees, though L maintains that many Argentineans skip the greens altogether, surviving solely on buttloads of meat and wine.

For obvious reasons, we were entirely too full to proceed with dessert—some of them looked pretty amazing. Another time, Boca… another time.

For three people, our cost was surprisingly reasonable—$96 + tip. Thank god this is Queens.

Since B was the birthday boy, L and I split the bill while he fiended and admired the silhouette of madman and new Argentinean national team coach Diego Maradona etched into the restaurant’s French doors. We rolled out with a weighty portion of leftovers in hand and headed back up the short stretch of QB (in L’s transpo) to Sunnyside.

THE AFTERMATH: It took several days for mama’s digestive tract and general state of well-being to simma down from us having gone ape-shit on red meats that night, but all is currently well and the dining was epic.

THE UPDATE: An Elmhurst-bred friend (surprisingly enough, another Argentinean), recommended further steakhouses in the area that just may rock our carnivorous worlds—La Porteña in Jackson Heights and La Fusta in Elmhurst—but the exception to these (perhaps equally glorious) meat houses would be, quite simply, their lack of awesomely obnoxious, one-sided futbol theming.

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Boca Juniors Argentinean Steak House
81-08 Queens Blvd.
Elmhurst, NY 11373 
718-429-2077