Most of my friends talked about begging quarters from their parents for brightly colored gumballs that shot out of the machines which also sold holographic stickers and gooey sticky hands. I, meanwhile, grew up longing for the moments I was allowed to run over to the little cart staked a few feet away from my grandmother’s restaurant in Honduras and purchase rectangular pieces of dulce de leche, on which I would nibble for the rest of the afternoon, slowly savoring every last milky crumb.

Dulce de leche was also acquired in a caramel-like form (and can be made at home by boiling a can of condensed milk for several hours), which I would spread between two thin wafers and enjoy with paramount gusto. Needless to say, dulce de leche was a significant part of life growing up in Tegucigalpa and has continued to be one of my favorite sweet treats.

One can imagine my excitement at discovering Buenos Aires to be a haven of not only the savoriest beef but of an omnipresent dulce de leche as well. Ah, heaven! Dulce de leche was literally everywhere and in everything. Dulce de leche-filled doughnuts. Dulce de leche flan. Dulce de leche gelato. Dulce de leche-filled panqueques (crepes) drizzled with more dulce de leche. Dulce de leche cookie sandwiches dipped in chocolate, otherwise known as the Argentine delicacy alfajor.  And of course, dulce de leche straight from the jar.

Our first morning in the city, B and I wandered into a small bakery, where we grabbed a tray and a pair of tongs to essentially help ourselves to all the pastries our hearts desired. I chose a churro and a few other delicious but less memorable delights. Five pastries and just 1USD (remember what I said about bang for your buck?) later, I was happily biting into my churro and even more joyfully discovering it was filled with none other than creamy, delicious dulce de leche! Possibly the best day of my life.

Until I realized fifteen minutes into things that the dulce de leche was copiously squirting out the other end of the churro and glazing the entire front of my skirt. My heart lamented the waste…

But nothing could truly rain on my sugar-laden parade. Dulce de leche may have healing powers yet, and Buenos Aires was definitely the place to revel for all its abundance of the milky caramel sweet.