Some Argentines have begun to slate underground, ‘secret’ restaurants, but those who know their food and enjoy the arty atmosphere (think moustached Mexican artist wearing a flowery shirt), love to lunch here. Bang (hard) on the door and gain entry to the pasta, bread and jam factory, which has no sign, simply an orange sheet of paper saying ‘Golpee Fuerte’.

In fact, nobody is really sure what this place is called. Upstairs is what resembles an old mechanic’s warehouse where artists sketch away – overlooking the kitchen – while downstairs the madres work on their pasta, bread and jam. Take a seat at a long communal wooden table in the centre of the kitchen, watch the sunlight poke through the corrugated iron door beside the rack of freshly baked bread, and order a jug of homemade lemonade and a delicious bowl of pasta sautéed with mixed herbs, eggs, vegetables, oil and cheese.

Hygiene laws were invented because places like this exist, but have faith: those who make the pasta are the ones who cook it, and they do so with passion and flair.