You enter Bar Uriarte through its kitchen, an über-urban crush of brushed steel, bright spotlights, and gleaming utensils, exposed equally to diners and passersby through floor-to-ceiling plate glass. Despite its name, Bar Uriarte is more than just a watering hole for wayward Palermo hipsters, although the well-mixed cocktails and funky dance music pumped out by the resident DJ attract more than a scattering of postprandial drinkers. The menu is Med-inspired, featuring tapas combinations of cured prosciutto, pastrami, and salami; imaginative pasta dishes; standout concoctions such as veal carpaccio with fried capers; and pizza crisped just so in the wood-fired mud oven. If you can't hear yourself think, and the joy of people-watching starts to wane, you can always withdraw to the picture-perfect (if tiny) patio behind, and eat beneath its exuberant creepers.

Open daily 12:30 to 4 pm and 8 pm to midnight.

The glamorous subjects of the headshots lining the walls of Cabaña Las Lilas aren't movie stars or Rat Packers—they're cows. To be precise, they're grand-champion Herefords from the storied Las Lilas ranch. This ranch breeds Argentina's finest beef cattle, raised on pampas grass, and it opened this handsome steakhouse in the hip dockside neighborhood of Puerto Madero in 1995 to show off its goods. As a steakhouse, it should be ranked among the world's greatest. At brawny tables cut from trunks of Brazilian ipé trees, well-heeled porteños (B.A. natives) and jet-setters congregate over cell-phone lunches and late-night dinners for what's perhaps the top cow in town. Chances are you'll forget all about the sparkling waterfront view as soon as a platter of perfectly grilled mollejas de corazón (sweetbreads) hits the table, followed by your selection from 13 different cuts of beef. The "baby beef"—portioned at an adult 500 or 800 grams (that is, about 18 or 28 ounces), depending on your commitment to gluttony—comes ringed with rich, unapologetic fat. After this carnivorous juggernaut, you might want only a toothpick for dessert. But go on, live a little: You know you want that custardy crema catalana.

Open daily 12:30 pm to 12:30 am.

If there's a spiritual, intellectual, and historical epicenter to Buenos Aires, this is it. The Belle Époque Café Tortoni, on the bustling Avenida de Mayo, is the oldest (dating to 1858) and most celebrated café in town. It also happens to brew a fine cortado, the traditional shot of espresso cut with a smidgeon of milk, which makes an ideal accompaniment to the Argentine breakfast staple, the medialuna (like a croissant). The lengthy menu also includes churros with chocolate, sandwiches, and cocktails, including Tortoni's signature potation of sherry and champagne. If after all that you're too full to order more food, there's nightly tango in the Sala Alfonsina, all-day pool-hustling in the well-appointed billiard parlor, and wireless Internet access for the laptop-toting. Don't be surprised if you run into Jorge Luis Borges. The famed Argentine writer may have passed on in 1986, but his wax effigy is still hanging out at Tortoni every day, sharing a corner table with wax renditions of tango great Carlos Gardel and poet Alfonsina Storni.

Widely praised for its well-presented nouvelle Argentine cuisine when it opened in 2006, Chila remains an elegant (if slightly stiff) favorite of business types, big-spending locals, and special-occasion visitors. Leather seats, bookcases, low couches, and warm lighting give the dining room a sexy librarian vibe; at the rear of the restaurant, a long patio overlooking the Rio de la Plata offers a darker, glossier option. The bold fare references French techniques in dishes like classic châteaubriand, and succulent duck magret with onion Tatin. But the kitchen also offers steak alternatives such as quail, rabbit, and deer loin, which are relatively uncommon in B.A. dining rooms. The real draw, however, may be the 1,200-bottle-capacity wine cellar, stocked with over 200 varieties from across South America. Share the impressive "chocolate tasting" dessert course to finish, and then walk it off on the riverfront.

Open Mondays through Sundays 12:30 to 3:30 pm and 8 pm to midnight, Fridays and Saturdays 12:30 to 3:30 pm and 8 pm to 1 am.

Romantic Desde el Alma ("from the soul") occupies a quiet corner in Palermo Viejo that's apparently reserved for love-struck couples. Lamp-lit tables, rustic-chic bric-a-brac, and a fireplace surrounded by welcoming couches create the intimate, laid-back vibe of a porteño country house. The deliciously homey feel extends to chef Lucio Cantini's updated interpretations of Argentine comfort food, including the obligatory steak and juicy lamb dishes. Cantini's menu also contains a few welcome surprises: It's not easy to find good fish outside of a sushi roll in B.A., but Desde el Alma serves a variety of seafood dishes, like beet blini with salmon and dill, and buttery sole served with savory vegetable Knödels. The menu is moderately priced for B.A. (but is incredibly cheap by U.S. standards), as is the well-curated wine list, which is packed with quality Argentine and Chilean bottles. Bring your sweetheart, or you'll miss half of this place's considerable charm.

Open Mondays through Saturdays, 8:30 pm to 1 am.

This soothing retreat in Palermo—all bamboo, wood, and tinkling water—is half sushi bar and half eclectic bistro. It's also full-on hip, and one of the more notable establishments in a neighborhood that seems to sprout a new must-book restaurant every other weekend. The well-balanced feng shui of Dominga's sunroom and patio attracts Palermo's fashionably bohemian set, who relish savory starters like zesty pâté in Malbec reduction and baked mussels. Mains run to savory risotto cakes, carnivore-pleasing entraña (flank steak), the occasional Thai green curry, and daily-changing fresh fish.

Open Mondays through Saturdays 8:30 pm to midnight.

Like Naples, New York, and Chicago, Buenos Aires is a town that loves pizza. The Porteño pie falls somewhere between New York's and Chicago's on the thickness scale, a style known as media masa. El Cuartito, the illustrious downtown pizzeria (you can't miss its enormous neon sign), has been pumping out quality pies and slices since 1934, and might be the best example of local pizza makers' particular craft. In a room papered over with fight posters, patrons feast on everything from the over-the-top Tutto Per Me (straining under a payload of tomato, mozzarella, ham, olives, peppers, and hard-boiled egg) to the simple fugazza, chewy crust topped only with sweet, lightly browned onions—no cheese or sauce. "Pizza needs time," goes El Cuartito's motto. "Your palate will appreciate the wait." And while you wait, make like the locals: Sip sweet Moscato and order a slab of faina (a polenta-like garbanzo-flour concoction) to lay over your slice.

Open Tuesdays through Sundays 11 to 1 am.

La Boca is the old port of Buenos Aires, a relatively seedy maritime barrio boasting plentiful graffiti, the stadium of the Boca Juniors soccer team, and the tourist-friendly Caminito, a rainbow-colored alleyway full of tchotchke vendors and impromptu tango shows. (The neighborhood is one of several that lay claim to being the true home of tango.) At El Obrero, the boisterous La Boca cantina (which occasionally receives such drop-ins as the band U2), the shoebox-sized dining room is usually packed, specials are scrawled on chalkboards, and Malbec flows like there's no tomorrow. This is an ideal destination for old-time porteño fare, including the usual meaty parrilla offerings and the wondrous Argentine pot-au-feu known as puchero, a stew of brisket, sausage, calabaza, potatoes, and sliced corn cobs.

See that rotund guy in the red shirt manning the parrilla? That's him. That's Pobre Luis (Poor Lou), the inspired Uruguayan who has fed asado (traditional grilled meats) to soccer stars like Diego Maradona, Pelé, and judging by the signed jerseys covering the walls of this lively Belgrano institution, just about every halfback, fullback, and keeper on the planet. (The two-level corner establishment is within kicking distance of Monumental Stadium, home of the River Plate soccer club.) There are many excellent neighborhood parrilladas around Buenos Aires, but Luis has got something the others don't: the Uruguayan specialty known as pamplonas, hefty loglike rolls of charred beef, pork, or chicken stuffed with cheese, pimientos (peppers), and jamón (ham). These savory cholesterol bombs are not elegant, but this is an unpretentious place, brimming with fun and satisfied customers.

Open Mondays through Saturdays at 8 pm.

Enrique Baudonet's inviting hole-in-the-wall brims with the rustic flavor of the Argentine outback. Its interior features sepia-toned photos of old San Juan and brawny hanging hams. There's a menu full of robust local fare (including the Andean hominy stew known as locro), but the main reason to drop in is for empanadas. The little savory half-moon-shaped pies constitute one of Argentina's national dishes. Truth be told, B.A. isn't much of an empanada town—they're generally associated with the north and west of the country—and take-out chains have lowered the overall quality of these culinary miracles. But El Sanjuanino makes great empanadas to go or to stay—washed down, of course, with ice-cold Quilmes, the Bud of Argentina. Choice varieties include the customary carne suave, carne picante (more zesty than fiery), and salty-sweet corn.

Open daily noon to 4 pm and 7:30 pm to 12:30 am.

With teardrop-shaped hams hanging from its ceiling, brusque uniformed waiters, and tables full of smoking and drinking porteños, El Trapiche is a completely authentic B.A. dining experience. Its 22-page menu (perhaps the city's longest) reads like an epic of Argentine gastronomy: There's an endless assortment of grilled meats (including excellent rabbit and baby goat), pastas (such as the ever-popular ñoquis), and, a standout on a recent visit, Argentina's beloved breaded cutlets milanesas. The Southern Hemisphere cousin of Italy's cotoletta alla milanese, Austria's Wiener Schnitzel, and our own chicken-fried steak, the milanesas at Trapiche are bigger than the plates they come on. El Trapiche also has a nifty wine shop for patrons looking to continue the festivities.

An oasis of coolness and melted mozzarella just around the corner from the bustling downtown commercial strip of Calle Florida, Filo does thin-crust Neapolitan-style pizza in a clublike "art restaurant" environment above the Espacio de Arte gallery. Sparkling ochre walls, a kitschy topless mannequin, and funky music set the scene for customers who come to check each other out as much as to enjoy 30 varieties of tasty pizza. Try the pancetta-and-egg pie called Montello; the Old World standby, margherita; or the frutti di mare, showered with pink Patagonian clams.

Open daily noon to 4 pm and 7 pm to 2 am.

Juan B. Stagnaro's unassuming trattoria on a sleepy side street in La Boca is a family affair. His wife emigrated to Buenos Aires from Modena, bringing along an impressive recipe collection, focusing on homemade pasta. These days, multiple generations of Stagnaros are likely to greet you, either from the steamy kitchen or as they hop from table to table, toting mile-high plates of superb pasta. The ravioli Genovese—little pillows of pasta packed with veal, pork, beef, and cheese—stands out among the fine selection of stuffed pastas, and toothsome tagliatelle match perfectly with Il Matterello's rich, Old World ragú. (Modena, after all, is just up the road from Bologna, ragú central.) Rounded out with robust red wine, tiramisu big enough to share, and grappa all around, dinner with the Stagnaros reminds us that there's more to Argentina than great beef.

Closed for dinner on Sundays.

Scour the menus of even the best B.A. restaurants, and you'll be lucky to find more than a couple of fish dishes. Although the fertile waters of the southern Atlantic lap at Argentina's eastern shore, locals disdain dealing with scales and bones. Some surprise, then, that local chef Ricardo Annichini has achieved such a hit with Jangada, which specializes in line-caught river fish from the Río Paraná. Most species have yet to be named in English or Spanish, so be prepared to get your tongue around orders for tararira, boga, and surubí, fine-tasting fish named by the Guaraní tribes that once inhabited the river's upper reaches. The standout plate is the grilled pacú: Presented on a wooden plank, it's sufficient for two. Unique, too, are Jangada's empanadas of surubí. The patient staff know their business well: On a recent visit, even the waitress recounted tales from her weekends spent hooking the Paraná's finest.

Open daily noon to 4 pm and 8:30 pm to 1 am.

The Alvear Palace is the grande dame of Buenos Aires's luxury hotels, and La Bourgogne, the magnificent restaurant headed by chef Jean-Paul Bondoux, is universally regarded as the best French dining in South America. Accessed via a separate entrance and spiral staircase adjacent to the hotel's eye-popping lobby bar (all Breccia marble and towering columns), La Bourgogne's dining room is all about understated elegance. So are Monsieur Bondoux's creations: ravioli d'escargots, châteaubriand béarnaise, and sublime cassis-laced wild boar.

Open Mondays through Fridays noon to 3:30 pm and 7:30 pm to midnight, Saturdays 7:30 pm to midnight.

The twin stuffed cows that flank the entryway are a vivid foreshadowing of what's to come at La Cabaña. This luxe steakhouse reopened in late 2003, after a seven-year hiatus, on a posh calle in embassy-studded Recoleta. At the original Cabaña, which opened in 1935, you might have bumped into Errol Flynn, Sophia Loren, or Evita, though the resuscitated version attracts more corporate-card carriers and diplomats than movie stars. Still, all are captivated by the showy open parrilla manned by technicians in gaucho garb (including floppy pantaloons known as bombachas), walls covered with polo memorabilia, and an appropriately macho brown-leather menu brimming with options from bife de chorizo (similar to porterhouse) to asado de tira (beef ribs). Adventurous eaters will adore the assorted entrails platter, which arrives sizzling with enough sweetbreads, kidneys, chorizos, and morcilla (blood sausage) to satisfy a table full of hungry carnivores. Don't forget to touch the cows' tails on your way out, for good luck.

Open daily noon to 4 pm and 7 pm to midnight.

Ask the locals, ask the tourists: Everybody's going to La Cabrera for steak, especially now that Las Lilas's star has taken a bit of a dip. Possibly the most popular parilla in the city, La Cabrera has assumed its throne with a humble, visitor-friendly grace. You'll be treated to Champagne while you wait for your table, a lollipop (no kidding) while you're paying the (surprisingly cheap) bill, and an above-average array of savory side dishes in white ceramic pots while you stare down some of the best beef in Buenos Aires. Chef Gastón Riveira serves his classic grilled cuts on seasoned pine boards, a good indication of the huge portion size (skip or share the so-so appetizers). The restaurant has two locations about a block apart to accommodate the well-fed, happy crowds: The original offers a slightly higher-end feel, but La Cabrera Norte has its own cheerfully cluttered appeal, with movie posters, old advertisements, and oddball decorating touches like antique grilling utensils and twinkling fake plants.

Open Mondays 8:30 pm to 1 am, Tuesdays through Sundays 12:30 to 4 pm and 8:30 pm to 1 am.

This inventive molecular gastronomy restaurant in the crumbling old neighborhood of San Telmo is a pleasing study in contrasts. Based on the industrial open kitchen and concrete floors, you'd be forgiven for expecting an aloof, so-chic-it-hurts atmosphere. But the chill, hipster staff is adorably eager to answer questions and explain the menu. Chef Alejandro Digilio specializes in unforgettable nine-course tastings, prepared with obvious enjoyment and little pretense. Digilio worships at the altar of the seasonal, so much so that you half expect the sous-chef to bustle through the door midmeal with ingredients from the market. Local bottles rub shoulders with little-known imports on the wine list, but don't order a single bottle. Instead, go for course-by-course wine pairings, curated and explicated by the friendly sommelier. Be warned: If you're in the market for a quick bite, this is not the place for you. But if you're prepared to linger over a fascinating and multitextured meal, come here, and come hungry. The menu is posted on chalkboards overhead and changes frequently, but be on the lookout for suckling pig served with mushroom powder; salmon in ginger-lime broth with warm cherries; and tender, flavorful pulpo that will make a convert of the octopus-averse. Though expensive by B.A. standards, La Vineria offers incredible value for your money. Order the tasting menu and wine pairings, and finish with the flight of coffees, and you still won't spend more than $100 per person.

Open Tuesdays through Sundays 12:30 to 4 pm and 7 pm to midnight.

Stop here in the afternoon after shopping a hole in your wallet in Palermo, and you'll find dozens of footsore American and European visitors relishing one of the last true rarities in Buenos Aires: iced coffee. Lest you become too glassy-eyed and jittery with delight, this bright New York–style corner shop also offers sandwiches, salads, and pricey pastries to fortify you for the next phase of your boutique bender. In the whitewashed, light-filled main room, locals settle into the orange booths for free Wi-Fi, while out on the wooden patio, glamorous young porteña mothers (with equally gorgeous children in tow) gather around umbrella-shaded tables for a bit of tea and sympathy.

Open Mondays through Saturdays 8:30 am to 9:30 pm, Sundays 10 am to 9 pm.

An ideal rest stop on the Palermo shopping circuit (right next to cult shoe designer Mishka), Mott manages to be both slick and welcoming. The contemporary space has two levels: comfortable lounge chairs and sidewalk seating below, a dining loft above, and a gorgeous two-story bar uniting it all. Chef María Lancio's kitchen turns out an ambitious, market-inspired international dinner menu that changes regularly and moves from baby-goat ravioli to mussels in curried broth to spice-crusted steak. But a light lunch may be your best bet: The salads and small plates are creative and fresh, a welcome respite from all that heavy parilla. Order a glass of white wine and the salmon salad and settle back to enjoy the foot traffic outside, or stop by for a predinner cocktail from the intimidatingly long drink menu.

Open Mondays through Fridays 9 am to midnight, Saturdays and Sundays 9 am to 1 am.

The approach to Nectarine, via a tucked-away pedestrian arcade, feels convincingly like a sleepy back alley in, say, Aix-en-Provence. The delicious illusion continues when you press Nectarine's discreet buzzer, mount the steep stairs, and find yourself in the tranquil dining room, an airy, high-ceilinged respite from the adrenaline-amped pulse of Buenos Aires. For five years, the upstart French bistro has been wowing porteños with its 200-peso tasting menu (about $64) and a rotating cast of pheasant, partridge, duck, lamb, and fish, elegantly turned out in an atmosphere as refined as it is inviting.

Open Mondays through Fridays 12:30 to 3 pm and 8:30 pm to midnight, Saturdays 8:30 pm to midnight.

For 20 years, Oviedo has been the prime destination for Old World Spanish eats in Buenos Aires. The clubby brasserie, all white linen and burnished banquettes, sports a mile-long wine list (featuring home-turf faves from Mendoza and the best of Rioja), a selection of fresh seafood (including the zesty chipirones al pil pil, tiny baby squid in sauce made from peri-peri chiles), and spectacular paellas, including the showstopping Valencian version dyed black with cuttlefish ink. But the centerpiece here, as suggested by the dining room's handsome pig sculpture, is cochinillo a la manera segoviana, Segovian slow-roasted suckling pig served up in all its crisp-skinned, hoof-on glory. They might not cut it with a plate at Oviedo, as they do for tourists back in Spain, but any wayward Spaniard will certainly feel a little closer to home here.

Open daily noon to 2 pm and 8 pm to midnight.

Francis Mallmann, the globe-trotting dandy who is Argentina's best-known chef and restaurateur, selected an appropriately southern city location for this breathtaking culinary love letter to the myth-rich, far-southern region of Patagonia. On a graffiti-splattered corner of La Boca, Mallmann installed B.A.'s most romantic dining room in a gorgeously reinvented old Italianate town house. If some of Mallmann's other properties obscure Patagonia Sur's light, that's a shame. In fact, it's a gleaming gem, with a menu full of Argentina's greatest hits: ensalada de centolla (spider crab salad), homey lentil stew, succulent roasted Patagonian lamb, and even a modern take on choripan, the local equivalent of a vendor hot dog, turned out with Cordon Bleu panache. The wine list brims with the very best Argentine bottles. (Try the 2002 Malbec from Finca La Anita.) Mallmann has a sweet tooth, too. His flan casero con dulce de leche y crema prompted one seen-it-all porteña to proclaim it the best she'd ever sampled.

Open Thursdays through Saturdays noon to 3 pm and 8 pm to midnight, Sundays noon to 3 pm.

You know Sucre is hot the moment you step through the door. There's its sleek industrial ambience of exposed girders and pipes, the perfectly exfoliated international schmoozers and boozers quaffing colorful infusions at the bar, and the open kitchen with its flame-spewing wood-fire grill. Chef, owner, and impresario Fernando Trocca has a flair for drama, and Sucre, the centerpiece of his fiefdom (which includes the equally fashion-friendly Bar Uriarte and Gran Bar Danzón) is pure theater. Thankfully, this is a people-watcher's paradise where the food comes very close to living up to the surroundings. Langostinos (king prawns) perfumed with Lapsang Souchong harmonize with the heady aroma of smoke that suffuses the establishment; savory-sweet "Bloody Mary" ceviche is a cool treat. But it's impossible to avoid those shooting flames (fueled by quebracho, an Argentinean hardwood), which lick at an impressive matambrito de cerdo (pork flank), bring the mollejas de chivito (goat sweetbreads) to a perfect crisp, and just plain look great reflecting off an evening-ending glass of port.

Open daily noon to 4 pm and 8 pm to 2 am.

The decor of Tomo I, B.A.'s storied temple of alta cocina, is a bit sterile—but don't let that fool you. The restaurant's ambrosial offerings are every bit as personal and idiosyncratic as Ada and Ebe Concaro. These enterprising sisters founded this award-draped institution in 1971 in a neocolonial town house in Belgrano, and in 1993 moved it to its current digs, overlooking the 425-foot-wide street Avenida 9 de Julio and the landmark Obelisco. The menu kicks off with a friendly note from Ada and Ebe, a meditation on the old chestnut "A Few of My Favorite Things." Reading on, you discover that the Concaros's favorites range far and wide—from perfectly crusty goat sweetbreads to extravagantly rich cream of carrot soup to smoky trout. By the time grapefruit slices in Riesling arrive, the nondescript red walls, bentwood chairs, and fellow diners have melted away, and you realize that was the point all along.

Open Mondays through Fridays noon to 3:30 pm, Saturdays and Sundays 7:30 pm to 1 am.

One of the unmistakably Italian assets that Argentina's Genovese and Neapolitan immigrants brought to the New World was a knowledge of ice cream. Three companies, all at one time operated by rival branches of the Aversa family, vie for the top end of the market, although porteños argue endlessly over whether some family-owned corner spots offer a creamier product than the high-quality, fast-expanding chains. With its elaborate concoctions of truffle, praline, and torta—along with 20 fruit flavors, 12 forms of chocolate, and myriad variations on dulce de leche—it's difficult to beat Un' Altra Volta, whose six sleek outlets also offer a palate-teasing array of tarts, bonbons, and petits fours. Locals fill the parlors far into the night.

Open daily 8 am to 2 am.

Germán Martitegui, the bald, goateed visionary behind this mod Nordic bistro (and who also runs the kitchen at Casa Cruz), has become the city's chef of the moment. It's housed in an artfully converted garage that channels the ghost of Finnish designer Alvar Aalto with its high ceilings, retro ski-chalet fireplace, and teak-and white-plastic appointments. But trendy trappings aside, the place has serious legs, and it's likely to be a favorite even after the hype has died down . It's probably the only place in town where you can order delicious tandoori-smoked salmon, cheese piroshkis (like little Russian ravioli), and deer meatballs, and toss it all back—skoal!—with aquavit and chili-infused vodka.

Open Tuesdays through Sundays noon to 1 am.