Food in the Americas | thefidgetyfoodie

Bienvenidos a Miami

Posted on November 7 by thefidgetyfoodie

“Sure, it’s hurricane season” I pondered. “But what are the chances of actually encountering a hurricane….?”

Ha!

Ever the optimist, my glass-half-full approach to life usually works in my favour. But on this occasion, I clearly underestimated the forces of nature. Specifically, the forces of Category 4 winds in the Caribbean in late September.

Carefully laid plans to explore Puerto Rico were smashed by Hurricane Fiona and any further ideas of heading west annihilated by Hurricane Ian. It was in fact a hurricane sandwich that left me with a week to play in Miami.

“Welcome to Miami, Bienvenidos a Miami” in the words of the Will Smith hit.

It wasn’t the plan… but a week in a new town with nothing booked but a ticket out is my favourite type of conundrum.

In truth I had never thought much about Miami or Florida. It’s Latin American that has beguiled me in recent years.

What I didn’t expect was that Miami IS Latin America. As one local put it so eloquently for me:

“Latin America runs up until Fort Lauderdale. That’s where the USA actually starts”.

Aha. Suddenly hurricane season was not so problematic.

I knew that thousands of Cubans fled to Miami when Castro came into power, congregating in what’s now Little Havana. I expected good coffee and a rocking salsa scene. What I didn’t expect was that Spanish would be the mother tongue of almost everyone I encountered, as a result of almost two thirds of Greater Miami’s population having Hispanic origin.

My taste buds got excited.

By the end of the week I had firm favourite Cuban restaurant and had eaten enough Puerto Rican food to feel like I had been there in spirit. This was interspersed with cuisine from Venezuela, Colombia and Peru.

I am still obsessed with Cuban guava pasta and brought back a sizeable stash.

When I wrote about the food in Cuba, I wrote largely about ham and cheese sandwiches coupled with cheese and guava paste. Cuba was sensational for many things but it’s not somewhere you go for the cuisine. A dictatorship communist regime will do that to an island.

Miami however, has the benefit of Cuban expertise and an unlimited supply of ingredients.

Our go-to restaurant was Puerto Sagua, a no frills diner a few blocks from the beach which has served comfort-food staples like Cuban sandwiches and ropa vieja since 1962.

Ropa vieja in the back and marinated prawns in the front from Puerto Sagua

Ropa Vieja translates to ‘old clothes’ because the shredded beef and vegetables seemingly resemble a heap of colourful rags. It’s one of Cuba’s designated national dishes.

I was very happy to see that the iconic guava and cheese combo was alive and well in Miami. I truly love the way the saltiness of the cheese enhances the sticky sweet guava – and I’ll never forget that way it concluded every meal I ate in Cuba. Here my favourite bedfellows were ensconced in a delicate croissant pastry.

It worked a treat with a Cuban coffee, which was everywhere you looked and tasted sharp and sweet.

Of course, nothing says Cuba like a Cuban sandwich. I tried a few and while the classic combo of ham, pulled pork, cheese and pickles is always a winner, I never quite found a version that was best-in-class – either it was too dry or the meat lacked flavour.

One of the things I was most looking forward to in Puerto Rico was visiting the legendary La Ruta del Lechón, or ‘Pork Highway’. Vegetarians look away now – I’m talking about long stretches of road packed with restaurants selling lechon, a whole pig that’s been marinating for hours, roasted over coals for several hours until it’s juicy and crisp. I’m salivating just at the thought…

In lieu of a dedicated highway we settled for Puerto Rican restaurants in Little Havana for our lechon and that other Puerto Rican stalwart – mofongo. It’s traditionally made from deep-fried green plantain pieces mashed with garlic and pork.

My favourite was a version with beef cheeks which was rich and moreish (slightly too much ballast for a night of salsa dancing as it transpired).

The other culinary hero of Puerto Rico is the piña colada – this heady mix of coconut, pineapple and rum was certainly created on the island but there is uncertainty by whom. I’m not sure how traditional this particular skyscraper of whipped cream is, but judging by the pace they were being made it seems no one cared.

There is of course, one other way to drink cocktails in Miami and that is illegally on the beach through a plastic pouch. The Latin tradition of mobile beach cocktail service is sadly not permitted in Miami but it doesn’t stop enterprising young off-season hospitality staff from making their own cocktails at home and selling them on the sly from cooler bags on their back. They are so subtle that you can barely hear them whisper ‘piña colada, margarita….’ as they stroll down South Beach. Once I cottoned onto the ruse I realised they were everywhere. And I wanted IN!

The pitches were creative. “I use Patron in my margarita mix” was my personal favourite.

One of our new friends looks up his favourite salsa spots for me.

I thinketh not my friend. But hey, I can report that every cocktail I tried (and there were many), tasted good and suitably boozy so I had no qualms with the tequila they were using. And several ‘beachtenders’ were happy to pull up for a lengthy chat as we plied them for local intel about the best (real) bars and destinations for salsa.

I still plan to get to Puerto Rico at some stage and relive my version of The Rum Diaries, but Miami and its Latin charms made for a damn fine Plan B.

14 food rules of Colombia

Posted on March 13, 2020 by thefidgetyfoodie

Settling in to the Colombian lifestyle

Colombia is where I started my big South American adventure last year and it will always hold a special place in my heart. Luckily my local guide let my appetite lead the way through every meal, market and farm (thanks Hector). As usual I had the best fun, and learnt the most about the country, culture and people through eating. And these are the food rules I learnt along the way.

An avocado that’s almost the size of my head!

1. Put avocadoes on and in everything
The running joke in Australia is that millennials can’t afford mortgages because they spend all their money on (expensive) smashed avocado on toast. This is clearly not an issue in Colombia because avocados are not only cheap they are MASSIVE. One could feed an entire family. Twice. That explains why avocados can be found in every meal. Having said that I did find the larger the avocado the less flavoursome it was. A bit like prawns. But they certainly made light work of guacamole.

Street-style ceviche

2. Colombian ceviche is…. Different
I’m all for experimentation and new flavour combos. But some things are perfect the way they are and one of those things is ceviche. The original dish created in Peru is simply raw fish/seafood marinated and ‘cooked’ by fresh citrus juice, with a few accoutrements like coriander, red onion, tomato and fried corn. I have to admit I was horrified to order it in Colombia and find it doused in tomato sauce, i.e. ketchup! Why, WHY????? It killed it for me.

Sapote, one of the many exotic fruits on offer in Colombia

3. So many fruits, so little time
I was blown away by how many different fruits exist in Colombia. I tried to get a handle on them all by taking photos of each and making lists and eventually gave up. It’s such a tease as most can’t be found elsewhere. Especially not Australia. Guana’bana, curuba, tomate de arbol, mamoncillo, chirimoya…. How I miss you all! And the best part was picking up freshly chopped fruit on any street corner for next to nothing. It’s an outrage that I now have to cut up my own mango every day.

A fresh batch of my beloved lulada

4. There’s fruit and there’s fruit juice
Fruit juice is expensive in Australia so I always regard it as a luxury. It’s the opposite in Colombia where fruit is cheap and plentiful and fresh juice is a meal staple. Colombians eat a lot of heavy fried food so I honestly believe it’s the juice that keeps them in check. My absolute favourite was lulada made from lulo – a fruit only found in Colombia and Ecuador where it’s called naranjilla. Sweet, tangy and fresh, I drank it constantly. Perfect in cocktails too!

My beloved lulada, couldn’t get enough of this stuff

o5. That little bit extra
Hector introduced me to the concept of ñapa, or ‘that little bit extra’. It’s the lulada left in the blender which the vendor uses to top up your cup once you’ve made some room. The extra serve of soup at the markets. A couple of extra maracuyá over the kilo because, well why not? It says a lot about the spirit of generosity that lives inside a lot of Colombians which warmed my heart whenever I experienced it. Read More

My Passion for Pisco

Posted on November 10, 2019 by thefidgetyfoodie

Pisco sours and ceviche – the quintessential Peruvian combo

My obsession with pisco predates my adventures in South America.

I’ve always had a fascination with the ‘sour’ and its perfect balance of four ingredients – spirit, egg white, sugar syrup and citrus. Success depends on getting the balance between them just right.

The amaretto sour was the entry point for me. Made with what I can only describe as liquid marzipan, it almost felt like cheating. Surely a mocktail in disguise? From there it was a quick slide towards its Latino cousin, the pisco sour. It wasn’t that long ago that it was rare for bars to even stock pisco so I’d often make them myself. It was around the time I worked for hospitality giant Merivale, and I remember incurring the wrath of Merivale’s head of bars at the time when he discovered I was blending the cocktail rather than shaking it (a crime in the world of mixology). I arrived at work one morning to find a photocopy of the recipe from a cocktail bible with the method highlighted for my benefit. Noted Paul.

Regardless of protocol I still blend my pisco sours. Because no amount of shaking (and I can shake!) matches the foaminess that blending creates.

The port of Pisco

So… what is pisco? It’s actually a brandy, made by distilling fermented grape juice into a high-proof spirit. When the Spanish rocked up to Peru, they decided to start making it rather than importing something similar from Spain. The spirit used to travel to Spain via the port of Pisco so they decided to call it… Pisco.

Genius.

Pisco tasting in Ica, Peru

With pisco sours a firm favourite of mine for a while now, it was always a dream of mine to visit the home of pisco. Or rather homes. Because depending on who you ask, pisco is from Peru and Chile and the two countries have bickered for years over ownership of the Appellation of Origin.

So, what’s the difference? Different grapes to start with. Peruvian pisco is distilled to proof in copper pots while Chilean is aged to a higher proof then cut back with water and stored in oak barrels. The Peruvians use the whole grape, the Chileans distil only the skin. Peru is filled with old-fashioned, tiny producers and Chile is dominated by larger, more commercial operations.

Pisco cocktails for every palate

I’ve now tried pisco in Chile and Peru and because I prefer my pisco ensconsed in a sour, I would be hard pressed to tell the difference to be honest. I was more interested in the way each culture drank their pisco. In Chile they love a piscola – pisco and cola. It didn’t really work for me, but nothing mixed with cola really works for me (yes I’m talking to you Fernet & cola – the national drink of Argentina).

El Pisquerito was one of my favourite bars in Lima

The Peruvians will shot it at home and drink pisco cocktails when out. When it’s not a pisco sour it’s usually a Chilcano, a refreshing mix of pisco, ginger ale and lime, served in a tall glass with lots of ice. I was a big fan of this drink. Read More

Why I love Oaxaca – Mexico’s gastronomic heart

Posted on August 4, 2019 by thefidgetyfoodie

Why I heart Oaxaca – Mexico’s gastronomic heart_the fidgety foodie

Oaxaca’s stunning Templo de Santo Domingo

Let’s get the awkwardness out of the way shall we?

I know exactly what you’re thinking. So many vowels in one word. And what does one do with that ‘x’? You could spend hours trying to work out how to pronounce Oaxaca but I’ll spare you. ‘Wahaca’ is the phonetic pronunciation, and by happenstance is also a chain of Mexican restaurants in the UK. Clearly the founder didn’t think ‘Oaxaca’ would cut through on the high street.

All the good stuff and more…

Oaxaca had been sitting in the periphery of my greedy mind for quite some time. I knew from reading food press and listening to general foodie chit chat that Oaxaca was a True. Foodie. Heaven. Up there with San Sebastian. Bangkok. Palermo. How could a city famous for seven moles be anything but?

Piles of the Oaxcan cheese I am so enamoured with

I’d tried to squeeze it into a previous trip to Mexico but knew even then that a few days would not do. I’d argue that my ensuing 10 day trip did not quite cut the mustard either but it was at least enough time to eat an extraordinary amount of delicious and unique dishes, many of which can’t be found elsewhere in Mexico.

Tamales stuffed with Oaxacan cheese and zucchini flowers, made by yours truly

It would take me days, even weeks, to list all the dishes that need to be tried in Oaxaca. Some have travelled over the border well – enchiladas (although vastly different from the Tex Mex version), tamales, tostadas. Others were brand new to me – tlayudas, tetelas, memelitas. There are so many things you can do with a tortilla it made my head spin; Mexicans are true origamists.

Freshly frothed hot chocolate with pan de yema

You’d certainly have to start at one of the incredible markets. Mercado Benito Juárez, Mercado 20 de Noviembre and Central de Abastos are all terrific but for a traditional breakfast it has to be Mercado La Merced. My local friend Oscar introduced me to the delights of frothy hot chocolate with pan de yema and its similarly sweet starchy friends. Dip the carby delights into frothy hot chocolate for a sweet kickstart to your day.

Memelitas and enchiladas – a robust way to start the day

Then move onto something savoury such as memelitas (fried tortillas with tomato, chilli, beans and fresh cheese) and enchiladas – not rolled in Tex Mex style but rather layered like a loose lasagne, doused in a green chilli mole and topped with the stretchy Oaxacan cheese I find so addictive. Plus a side of fried beef short ribs for good luck. Read More

How to eat in Lima

Posted on March 30, 2019 by thefidgetyfoodie

Ceviche and pisco sours = a match made in heaven

Lima is a famed culinary hot spot. Boasting three restaurants on the World’s 50 Best Restaurants list (on par with New York and Tokyo) and many several celebrity chefs, it’s known as the gastronomic heartland of South America. And it’s true. Almost everything I ate was considered and delicious. But I experienced two very different approaches to Limeño food.

One of many variations on a pisco sour

The Lima that most travellers see revolves around the hip central areas of Miraflores and Barranco and has been finessed to perfection. These areas are clean, sophisticated and importantly safe. Of course that’s where travellers go. That’s exactly where I stayed over several weekends.

A view of Saint Martin de Porres from the gym (which I frequented to work through all those carbs)

But Lima is a city of 9.7 million (30% of Peru’s population) and not everyone can afford these desirable suburbs. The city has sprawled extensively to cope with the population influx and the outskirts of Lima are an entirely different proposition to the centre. I came to appreciate this when I spent weeks volunteering at an NGO school for disadvantaged children in Saint Martin de Porres. It’s a mere 20km from central Lima but the difference in living conditions could not be more stark.

However it was the difference in eating which really fascinated me.

Peru’s impressive coastline

Think of Peru and you think ceviche and pisco sours, si? During my time in Saint Martin de Porres I didn’t come close to either. Yet in central Lima you can’t take two steps without tripping over a stylish venue that offers both.
Peru has an enviably long coastline and despite laying claim to just 0.1% of the world’s sea it produces 10% of the world’s seafood. But I found that people in Saint Martin de Porres rarely ate seafood. Partly because of the cost and partly because they are so enamoured with chicken that they have no time for seafood.

The local chicken shop in Saint Martin de Porres

Chicken and carbs are what sustain most Peruvians day in and day out. Rice, potatoes, bread. Heaven help you if you’re celiac. And if you’re a vegetarian it’s huevos for you. One vegetarian volunteer found herself eating rice and eggs three times a day while at the school.

Quinoa and potato stew with rice – for lunch and dinner

I marvelled at how many carbs could be amalgamated into one meal. Quinoa and potato stew with rice was the epitome of this approach. For lunch and dinner. With bread for breakfast. Salad and vegetables did not feature heavily. Or at all.

Peruvians are also extremely religious. They pray before every meal. They don’t really drink. And off topic slightly, because they live at home until marriage there are literally thousands of ‘hostals’ offering rooms by the hour for romantic dalliances that could never happen at home. Read More

7 delicious things to eat in Brazil

Posted on August 27, 2018 by thefidgetyfoodie

Feijoada – Brazil’s national dish with all the trimmings

I’m not sure if it’s the samba or the caipirinhas but Brazil has always held an allure for me and I found the food scene intoxicating. This is hardly a definitive list, more a top 7 scenario – stay tuned for part 2.

Yes it’s deep fried sushi and yes it works

Deep fried sushi

Did you know that Brazil has the largest Japanese population outside of Japan? So the ubiquity of sushi joints was not a surprise. What was a surprise was the, how should I put it… originality of sushi the Brazilians have perfected. Would you like mango in your California roll? What about a strawberry and cream cheese hand roll? Deep fried sushi? All are in scope for the Brazilians. I’d been warned about a signature of Brazilian sushi, the Hot Philadelphia, so naturally had to try it. They start with salmon and rice in nori seaweed. What’s the big deal, right? Well then add cream cheese and deep fry the whole thing. In all fairness it actually tasted delicious, but any sushi connoisseur would surely be shaking their head.

Bolinhos de bacalhau

“Whatever you do DO NOT leave Rio without trying these” said my Brazilian friend Rodrigo. I am never one to ignore a local’s recommendation, particularly when it’s a variation on fish cakes. In his eyes these torpedo shaped patties made from bacalhau (dried and salted cod), potatoes, eggs, parsley and onion are the defining dish of Rio. I must concur he was right as I saw them on almost every table every time I went out to a boteco to drink. When in Rio I did as the Cariocas do so ordered them a number of times and they never disappointed.

Feijoada from the Academia da Cachaca in Leblon, Rio

Feijoada

As Brazil’s national dish this is an obvious addition to the list but given its fame I was surprised at how elusive it was. Sure every buffet had a version (but by definition anything on a buffet table can only reach certain heights) and that was the first time I tried it, but I wanted to try it in its full glory with all the trimmings – and for that you have to track down certain restaurants and eat at certain times, namely Saturday or Sunday lunch.

Succulent cuts of meat along with off cuts in this feijoada

Feijoada is dish of slow cooked black beans stewed with a variety of meaty off cuts, ranging from salted pig’s ears to beef tongue. The traditional accompaniments are rice, farofa (toasted cassava flour), collared greens, bacon and orange to help cut through the richness of the stew. It’s an epic meal and pretty much all you’ll need to eat that day.

Feijoada with rice, farofa, collared greens, bacon and orange

The iconic dish was created by the West African slaves brought to Brazil by the colonial Portuguese but is now considered a dish that feeds the soul of the whole Brazilian population. Just make sure you fast before you eat it. Read More

7 things you must eat in Hawaii

Posted on April 16, 2018 by thefidgetyfoodie

Poke on the beach is about as Hawaiian as you can get.

‘‘Let’s go to Hawaii!’’ exclaimed my excited bestie Katia.

‘‘Umm… really?’’ was my hesitant response. I travel to eat and apart from poke what’s exciting to eat in Hawaii I thought.

‘Just look at all these cool food tours….’ she continued. Well that got my attention. Food tours are one of my all-time favourite activities when travelling (and a key to being a good foodie). I was in.

Tako or octopus poke

And Hawaii did not disappoint. Sure you can easily eat nothing but fast food the whole time (in fact you can do that anywhere). But with a little research and observation, there’s a treasure trove of foods that represent the indigenous Hawaiian traditions interlaced with all the other cultures that have impacted the remote islands since Western settlement including Portuguese, Japanese and Chinese.

Here are 7 things you MUST track down. Read More

My celebrity cooking class in Brazil

Posted on January 20, 2018 by thefidgetyfoodie

the fidgety foodie_celebrity cooking class in Paraty Brazil

Yara teaches me how to make the iconic Brazilian fish stew, moqueca

One of my favourite experiences in Brazil last year was a cooking class with the Brazilian version of Nigella, Yara Castro Roberts. I was wandering the cobbled streets of Paraty and happened to see the sign for Yara’s school, The Academy of Cooking & Other Pleasures (what a name!) and lucky for me they had a space for that night.

Yara used to have her own Emmy-nominated Brazilian cooking show, and hails from the gastronomic heart of Brazil, Minas Gerais. Along with her American/French husband Richard they operate cooking classes out of their very chic terrace home. But cooking class is really not the right description as we did very little cooking – instead they took us on a historical and cultural journey through the history of Brazil told through food – with plenty of edible reference material along the way. And when I finally left at 1am I had the distinct feeling I’d been dining with friends all evening.

Richard muddles fresh limes for a round of caipirinhas

The night started as many do in Brazil – with caipirinhas. Richard whipped them up on a smart drinks trolley as he started offering background info on Brazilian food. Today’s cuisine is built on three very distinct legs – Indigenous, Portuguese and African. Over time the indigenous ingredients which sustained the native Brazilians have been appropriated by the Portuguese who came to conquer and influenced by the Africans they brought with them to work as slaves.

I didn’t drink all of these caipirinhas, but it was tempting

The key indigenous staple that virtually props up every Brazilian dish is the starchy root manioc – also known as cassava, yucca or tapioca. It’s native to Brazil and has always been essential to the diet. It’s incredibly versatile and can be boiled, baked, steamed, grilled, fried and mashed plus ground into flour and used as a thickening agent. Other popular indigenous ingredients hailing from the Amazon are the superfruit açaí and berry guaraná, used to make energy drinks.

Our entree of farofa-stuffed tomatoes with haloumi

The second leg of Brazilian food comes from the Portuguese, who came to the country looking for gold and never left. They were the first to plant corn which was used to make polenta and introduced a bean concoction which has become the country’s signature dish, feijoada. Not to mention eggy breads and salt cod or bacalao.

Dende is derived from palm trees and used extensively in Brazilian dishes

Yara also talked us through ingredients that came to Brazil via the African slaves, like coconut milk, dende (an extract from the palm tree), palm hearts and okra. These ingredients infiltrate much of the African food that’s still very distinctive in Brazil, especially around Salvador where dishes like acarajé, a fritter made with beans and fried in palm oil, are very popular. Read More

Mole, mole, mole

Posted on July 19, 2017 by thefidgetyfoodie

Mole concentrate from Chiles Secos in LA

The iconic Mexican sauce not the facial adornment of course.

Growing up, mole was the sauce with chocolate (yes, chocolate!!!) that I tried at a few suburban Mexican restaurants and never understood. Was it a dessert or a savoury dish I wondered?? I envisaged a chef breaking up pieces of Cadbury Dairy Milk and adding them to a pot and the whole idea sounded bizarre (although delicious – what dish isn’t improved with chocolate?).

It took a little more culinary maturity before I understood that dark chocolate, with minimal milk solids and fats, was the key ingredient that added a richness and depth to the sauce.

Mexican mole at Mi Lupita in Mexico City

Mole of course means ‘sauce’, so guacamole for instance, literally means avocado sauce. Mole poblano from Puebla is the most famous of all the moles and arguably Mexico’s national dish. Dark chocolate, multiple chili peppers and up to 20 different spices make up this iconic dish. It takes time for the flavours to develop and layer up so it’s usually reserved for special occasions.

Sauce in most cuisines is the accompaniment, playing second fiddle to a piece of meat or other hero ingredient. But not mole. Mole IS the dish. It’s the star of any plate and the chicken or other protein served alongside is merely there to accompany the sauce to the mouth. A plate of sauce with a little pile of chicken on the side is not an uncommon sight.

My obsession with mole really began when I went to Mexico. My (only) preparation for a week in Mexico City was a thorough analysis of the best places to find mole, specifically mole poblano.

The best mole in Mexico City is to be found at Mi Lupita

That’s how I came across Mi Lupita, a little ‘fonda’ or casual restaurant in Centro Histórico that’s been making mole since 1957. It was tiny, with barely six tables and no one that remotely resembled a tourist. Perfect. There I had one of the most memorable dishes of my life: a plate of the house special of mole poblano with chicken on enchiladas.

Mole poblano with chicken on enchiladas at Mi Lupita

Even though I hadn’t tasted every mole in Mexico City, I was sure that this was indeed the best. What could taste better than this? The mole was rich, intense, spicy, smoky, chocolaty. The chicken was lean and the whole dish was topped with onion and grated queso fresco. Further proof shortly arrived at the table next to me. A local food guide was there with four travellers, explaining why Mi Lupita’s mole was the best in the world and I nodded on in agreement.

The mole spice mix selection at Mi Lupita

I overheard the guide mention mole spice mix could be bought to take away and I wanted in. I leant over to ask him how to request it and the first thing he wanted to know was how on earth I’d found this secret little place? It was almost as though I’d ruined his surprise. I may not be a local I told him, but I know how to use google to my advantage!

I left Mi Lupita with half a kilo of mole in a plastic bag with a knot at the top and somehow managed to get it back to Sydney (thankfully they weren’t filming Border Security that day). I had many a delicious meal from that mole base and wished many times I’d brought double, even triple, back home with me. Read More

5 mouth-watering reasons to visit Chile

Posted on June 18, 2017 by thefidgetyfoodie

One of the many ceviche dishes I enjoyed in Chile

When I told people I was carving out three days of my South American holiday to spend in Chile, specifically Santiago and Valparaiso, they were confused. Aussies need to pass through Santiago to fly home but no one actually steps out of the airport. One friend even coined Santiago as ‘an irrelevancy’.

Well that made me even more determined to go. After all it’s an entirely different country (from Brazil and Argentina where I’d previously been) which meant new ingredients, cooking styles and traditional dishes. There would have to be something new and delicious for me to eat I reasoned. Plus the country produces pisco and I live on pisco sours.

When I landed in Santiago after a few weeks in luminous Brazil, it was raining and cold. People were burrowed under coats, the sky was grim and the fierce rain forced me to take cabs when I otherwise would always walk. It wasn’t a great start. But once I bought a scarf and started to explore, I soon found my foodie groove.

I easily ate a week’s worth of food in three days and these were my highlights.

Another ceviche… this one from a tiny seafood joint in Valparaiso

Ceviche

If I had to live on one dish for the rest of my life, this would be it. I’ve always loved the zing and wholesomeness of a good ceviche, and appreciate how uncomplicated it is. As a country that’s all coastline, Chile excels in fresh and delicious seafood, including many species of fish you can’t get elsewhere.

I ate ceviche in a little seafood joint in Valparaiso, at a pokey little stall in the fish markets and in a seafood restaurant and every time it was on point. Never too fancy, never overloaded with ingredients, just fresh slivers of fish and maybe prawn, heavy with the weight of the citrus it had soaked up to ‘cook’ the fish, and peppered with chili, garlic, red pepper, red onion and a sprinkling of coriander. Sensational every time.

A classic pisco sour from Chpe Libre

Pisco sour

I have single handedly increased pisco distribution amongst Sydney bars. I’ve learnt that if you badger a bartender enough they will eventually start stocking your favourite spirit and making your favourite cocktail. Of course I didn’t have that problem in Chile as it’s the national tipple.

Christopher makes me (another) pisco sour

My favourite pisco bar was Chpe Libre (Chpe coming from a merging of ‘Chile’ and ‘Peru’) which called itself the Républica Independiente del Pisco, i.e. the imaginary diplomatic heart of the pisco regions of Chile and Peru. It therefore served pisco sours made from Chilean and Peruvian pisco, and while people make a fuss about the difference, I struggled to really identify specific flavours. Maybe because of the competing citrus, sugar and egg wash going on in the glass or maybe because I drank too many to really remember!

A classic pino empanada

Empanadas

After spending time in Argentina I thought I’d had my fill of empanadas but it turns out I have a second stomach for them. I also like the Chilean take on this ubiquitous South American hand held food. Their meat version, ‘pino’, isn’t just made with ground beef but is spiked with onions, raisins, black olives and a surprise (to me) of hard-boiled egg, which really elevated the flavour.

A mix of empanadas with fillings including beef and octopus

I also tried a version with octopus which I had my doubts about but was delicious. A former President of Chile once referred to creating ‘a revolution with the flavour of red wine and the scent of an empanada’, which sounds exactly like a movement I could get behind. Read More