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[[Two Newspaper articles on this page]]
[[Article to left of page]]
Octopus Poor Food, Buenos Aires Visitor Discovers
Other of Cephalopoda, However, Prove to Be
Delicious
[[underlined and italicized]] (No. 22 of a Series.) [[/underlined and italicized]]
By W. H. Shippen, Jr.,
Star Staff Correspondent.
Buenos Aires.-Tender octopuses form the mouth of the La Plata, sweet mussels, fat snails tasty sting rays, tortoises and terrapins, fruits of many climates and meats beyond compare.
[[image: Black and White photo of bust of man wearing coat and tie.  Caption beneath photo, W. H. Shippen, Jr.]]
A cornucopian horn of plenty is poured out here at the city's markets - some of the finest in the world. To learn how B. A. dines the wise visitor hikes through miles of meat and produce stalls before sitting down to such educational exhibits as the restaurants offer.
Take the biggest market here-a block square and occupying five or six floors above and below street level. The endless foodlined corridors are an invitation to a stroll long enough to counteract later investigations with a knife and fork.
The thing that first hit my eye-and the market is laid out to please the eye as well as the appetite-was a stall of strange creatures that swim, crawl and run in the sea-octopuses, etc. Tender little fellows galloped over the bottom of their tank or shrank timidly from the public gaze. Their big brothers had been stripped of their arms, all eight of them. These limbs, geometrically arranged, were laid out before me in boxes of ice.
Smothered in Onions.
Having read about octopuses eating men, it occurred to me that I might turn the tables on the greedy cephalopod. I therefore ordered octopus tonight-large octopus, the bigger the better.
The waiter, who is my pal (I overtipped him several times before I learned the difference between the milreis of Brazil and the pesos of Argentina) brought me my octopus smothered in onions-pretty well smothered, I'm happy to say.
Such sections of the cephalopod as I had the temerity to excavate tasted like slices of last year's garden hose, plus a rather pungent odor which anybody who ever ate fish in a boarding house should be able to identify. So much for the octopus, but the mussels, the snails, sting rays, etc., were a happier experiment-much happier. They were done to a turn (many chefs here are Parisian, and one I know of catered to a Balkan King, who didn't die of overeating) and garnished with delicate sauces.
The meat stalls at the market were artistic triumphs-carcasses of baby lambs, suckling pigs, fattened ducks, geese, chickens, partridges, pheasants, all arranged in patterns of color, size and shape. Even the edible interior arrangements of sheep and cattle were plaited and festooned in garlands. Bright, varicolored cheeses made pretty mosaics, and, in luxury meat stalls, special cuts bore the hair and hide of the contributing animal so that fastidious Argentines could identify their favorite breeds.
Lambs Sell for $1.50
Choice fat young lambs were going for 6 pesos each, less than $1.50 in our money, or about the price of a second-rate leg of lamb in the States. Other prices were in proportion.
In a vast underground market auctions disposed of wholesale quantities of beef in rapid order. The proceeding sounded like a dozen North Carolina tobacco auctions all conducted simultaneously in Spanish. I was glad I didn't have to bid on my beefsteaks there.
The fruit and produce sections combined the best from temperate, cold and semi-tropical climates of this vicinity--pineapples, citrus fruit, bananas and avocados from Brazil, huge Chilean apples; grapes, peaches, plums, olives from Mendosa, Argentina; chicory, lettuce and watercress, vast mounds of cauliflower; Japanese persimmons in graded boxes, pomegranates and countless melons, fruits and vegetables I had never seen or heard of.
But tonight, after miles of walking between abundant quantities of the world's finest food, I found I wasn't hungry.
I'm afraid that octopus got me after all!
[[center solid line]]
[[italicized]] Tomorrow:; A Woman's View of Argentine Women. [[/italicized]]
[[/Article to left of page]]
[[Article to right of page]]
Brilliant Shops
Of Buenos Aires
Lure Feminine Eyes
Now, as Winter Nears,
Furs and Gems Glitter 
Along Calle Florida
[[italicized]] Dr. William M. Mann, director of the National Zoological Park, is now in the Argentine collecting birds, reptiles and animals. Among those accompanying him are William H. Shippen, jr., feature writer of The Star staff, and Mrs. Shippen. As [[underlined]] No. 23 of Mr. [[/underlined]] Shippen's series of articles, Mrs. Shippen herewith provides the "woman's angle" on Buenos Aires. [[/italicized]]
By Frances Shippen
Buenos Aires.--Nowhere else in the world, so they say, is the woman more pampered than herein Argentina.
[[image: black and white bust photo of woman with dark hair. The photo is captioned 'Frances Shippen.']]
She is less emancipated, perhaps, but certainly more feminine than her sisters in the States--and obviously doesn't suffer in a material way from the difference, judging from her furs and jewels.
A newcomer to Buenos Aires, especially a woman, is delighted with her first walk through the famous shopping district-the Calle Florida, which is closed to vehicular traffic during the day. For it seems that every shop along the narrow street displays exquisite furs, expensive perfumes, dazzling jewels or great baskets of flowers.
Although the furs and orchids may be the envy of feminine visitors from the States, a comparatively new industry and are not quite up to the older standards of manufacturers at home. The sight of readymade clothes in store windows is still a novelty, we are told. They have been featured for only a few years.
Flowers Are Abundant.
Women here love flowers. Even the most modestly clothed worker wears a nosegay on her lapel, and no home seems too poor for a vase of flowers in the window. Seasons are reckoned by the flowers, and just now, with the coming of winter, the chrysanthemums, huge and brilliant in their strange color combinations, are at their height. One can buy a corsage of violets at the best stores for less than a quarter in our money* and a dozen sunburst roses for less than a dollar. Eight lily-of-the-valley plants growing in a pot will cost little more than half a dollar, and gladioluses in every conceivable color combination are almost as plentiful as our daisies. The wholesale flower market here is supposed to surpass that of Paris and is visited by thousands daily as one of the city's most beautiful sights.
Although snow here is a rarity and stores display native-grown flowers throughout the year, groups of women already are getting together over their tea and talking of going north to the hills for sunshine and warmth. South winds will soon be blowing, they say, bringing a chill humidity they wish to escape.
Other than Spanish, the language most frequently spoken here is French, and the city has a decided Parisian atmosphere. Sidewalk cafes line the streets. Food is one of the most important reasons for living. Everybody has two or three hours for luncheon. Small shops tempt the passer-by, especially those which sell the inexpensive though somewhat ornate Bolivian silver, and the finely-woven Paraguayan lace--two of the best buys in Buenos Aires, I hear.
Women Stay at Home More.
One doesn't see as many women pedestrians as in the States. Here women are more emancipated in that respect than a few years ago, when it was almost unheard of for a lady to be seen--especially at night--on the streets without an escort. No gathering (whether it be a ship sailing, tea hour or a jockey club luncheon) is complete, however, without the woman's de[?]rative presence.
It is said that the finest plets in the world are gathered and sent here--platinum and silver fox, ermine and sable. And this winter, so the local stylists say, lots of nutria, a native fur and one that is being sent to the States, will be worn. Diamonds are the most popular jewels, and a preference, too, for Brazil's aquamarines, said to be good bargains.
One watches the Argentine woman rise to dance the tango with her escort. She has flowers in her hair and on her shoulder, a necklace and earrings--too much for us, perhaps, but somehow in good taste on the scintillating, feminine senorita.
Entertainment Plentiful.
Casinos--night clubs--are plentiful and the entertainers are among the best obtainable. Here, too, the Argentines seem to prefer the French. Josephine Baker, the toast of Parisienne night life, has just left. Mistinquette, that perennial French favorite, replaced her and received a tremendous ovation on her arrival. One is struck by the lack of South American music in many places of entertainment. Swing tunes--fortunately or otherwise--appear to be popular.
There are many fine legitimate theaters and several hundred movies, practically all showing pictures from the States. Just recently there has been a revival of Shakespeare's plays in Spanish. Last season there was some difficulty over the presentation of "The Taming of the Shrew," we were told. The translators had a hard time finding a word in Spanish for "shrew."
"You see," a native Argentine explained, "women here are not like that. After worrying about the word for quite a while the translators had to fall back on a Spanish word which means 'wild beast.'
"It is very difficult for us to imaging a woman like that--especially us married men!"
The Argentine's wife smiled her 
[[/Article to right of page]]

Transcription Notes:
Again, no spell check for writing. Dittos missing in last paragraph.