After months of almost nothing but Quilmes and the occasional ‘local’ beer that tastes nearly identical to Quilmes - watery, refreshing but with little flavor, I find myself in what must be the microbrewery capital of Argentina: Bariloche, in the province of El Bolson. At least I know that those Oktoberfest beers weren’t just a show.

El Bolson, Manush, random beers made in house by the restaurant or bar. In a country known for its wine, perhaps I shouldn’t even have tried the beer - and I’ve met tourists on beer hiati, unwilling to stomach the thin pale ale (cerveza rubia). But here the beer even deserves the meat.