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| - Ok so here is the deal - El Hornero is an Argentinean restaurant. People who order pizza or lasagna thinking the place is "Italian" make me laugh - quite a bit. Sorry guys! :-)
To give a little more prospective, Argentina is a country occupying the lower half of the South America, and has deserts and jungles in the North, with penguins and glaciers in the South. They have more people there for less territory than Canada has, and there are about 4 cows per each one person of the 37.5 million population. Which means - those guys really eat meat, hardcore.
I lived in Argentina for about 8 years and can tell you that they know a lot about dealing with meat, milk, and everything a cow is about. A process of preparing an "asado" (sort of bbq, but a really cool one) takes hours and requires some special training. If you only know how to make some (khm) ribs, and think you are good at it, better don't try to get a job in Argentinean restaurant - you will be laughed at, and that will hurt.
Argentinean bife (yeah, that's how they call what "stake" is supposed to be) is a result of a thorough application of art and science. If you ask it medium-rare or something, you will be thought about as a person who doesn't have a clue. That's business, oh yeah, so they will serve you whatever you've ordered (including pizza and pasta) but... well I hope you've got a point.
There is some homework to be done before going to El Hornero. At least a google search and hopefully some reading about "asado" would help. Next step will be to get to the restaurant and order something you think you know what it is. May hurt, but your second attempt will be better, believe me!
As a big hairy A goal, you will make it to something which for the stranger may look like a portable stove with actual flames burning, and a pile of dead cow private parts slowly frying on top of it. At that point you may know what "churrazquito" is about, and maybe even dream about a "chinchulin", carefully looking around for some feds from the healthcare trying to protect your body from a certain damage.
When you will get to a "chimichurri" (and realize that it means "give me curry") and think about "ensalada criolla" as a viable alternative to "fritas", you may possibly notice a guy approvingly looking at you from the corner. That might be me. And a dude standing next to me and looking as a cook will probably be an asadero - an actual Argentinean national, and the owner of that place who stopped by my table just to chat a little bit in "castellano" (no, they do not call it "Spanish language").
At that point you will be good enough with all those little Argentinean peculiarities and ready to become friends with whoever is worth it, enjoying a one of a kind food impossible to find anywhere else in Toronto. Simple as that.
Saludos hermanito, 'ta bien si lo hiciste, felicidades! ;-) Y, naturalmente, "no llores por mi, Argentina - tu alma esta conmigo!" :-))
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