Thursday, August 28, 2008

El Levanton - Man enough for a Merengada?


Some milkshakes you can't prepare for. I remember waking up one Sunday morning in Merida feeling like death warmed up after a fun-filled night of beer and rum that probably went on too long.

Luckily, one of my "panas" (mates) from the Andean capital had the perfect solution and took me to a juice bar in the Mercado Principal where he insisted on ordering a pick-me-up called El Levanton.

"Don't worry panita," he said, encouragingly, "this is guaranteed to kill that kangaroo in your head."

After what seemed ages, the creamy milkshake finally arrived. It looked innocent enough but tasted too salty to be just fruit and milk.

It had a whiff of alcohol about it and a definite aftertaste of cod liver oil, but I soldiered on thinking I couldn't feel any worse.

In fact, I was already feeling better.

The milkshake went down smoothly and it was only after my laughing buddies told me that it contained milk, papaya, melon, carrot juice, ice, sugar, a wine called Vino Sanson, some homemeade spirit called Chuchuguasa, a raw chicken egg, two raw quail eggs, fish roe and a bull's eye that I came over queasy.

"All the vitamins you'll ever need," the grinning juice guy said, "and it's a powerful aphrodisiac, so be careful with the chicas."

Honestly, I told him, the way I feel the chicas have nothing to worry about.

Undeterred, he told me that I should try "El Super Levanton", with extra shots of brandy and more bulls' eyes, if I was still in need of hangover help.

But that was enough for me. I had consumed all the hangover cure I could take that day - magical aphrodisiac or not - and after a few cheese empanadas and a couple of strong black coffees I was well enough to go back to bed.

By Russell Maddicks

Recipe: Carne Mechada - Shredded Beef

Recipe: Caraotas Negras - Venezuelan Black Beans

Recipe: Carne Mechada - Venezuelan Shredded Beef

Recipe: How to Make Arepas

Arepa and Co: The only Venezuelan food outlet in the UK

Glossary: Eating at an Arepera

Batidos and Merengadas - Juice Bar Glossary


One of the great pleasures of visiting Venezuela is the chance to try so many delicious fruit juices. From exotic soursops to run-of-the-mill raspberries, juices seem to taste better in the tropics.

And there's no trouble finding them. You can enjoy juices at fruterias, areperas, luncherias and five star restaurants - anywhere there's a blender and a plug socket, basically.

Just don't ask for a "zumo", the Spanish word for fruit juice - especially if you say it with a lisp - because all you'll get in reply is a confused "Que?"

In Venezuela, freshly-squeezed juices, such as orange and mandarin, are called "jugos", other fruits that are mixed with water and ice are called "batidos", and milkshakes are known as "merengadas".

One word of warning, people like their juices sweet over here, the sweeter the better, so order your juice "sin azucar" ("without sugar"), or "con poco azucar" ("with little sugar"), unless you're ordering a super-sharp passion fruit juice, which needs a little sweetness to tone down the tang.

Jugos - Juices

Cambur - Banana
Durazno - Peach
Fresa - Strawberry
Guanabana - Soursop
Guayaba - Guava
Lechosa - Papaya
Mandarina - Mandarin
Mango - Mango
Melon - Honeydew melon
Mora - Blackcurrant
Naranja - Orange
Nispero - Sapodilla
Papelon con Limon - Raw cane sugar mixed with water and lemon or lime
Parchita - Passion Fruit
Patilla - Watermelon
Piña - Pineapple
Remolacha - Beetroot
Tamarindo - Tamarind
Toronja - Grapefruit (although its just as likely to appear in the Spanglish form as Greifu, Graifru or Grefu)
Tres en Uno - Beetroot, Carrot and Orange
Zanahoria - Carrot

By Russell Maddicks

Recipe: Carne Mechada - Shredded Beef

Recipe: Caraotas Negras - Venezuelan Black Beans

Recipe: Carne Mechada - Venezuelan Shredded Beef

Recipe: How to Make Arepas

Arepa and Co: The only Venezuelan food outlet in the UK

Glossary: Eating at an Arepera

Thursday, August 21, 2008

Lunch with Los Amigos Invisibles



Max and Jason of Current TV join Venezuelan band Los Amigos Invisibles for a brunch of arepas and cachapas at Beverly Hills' famous gourmet java-joint Coupa Cafe.

The restaurant is run by Jean Paul Coupal, the French-Canadian owner of Cafe Arabica in Caracas.

The menu combines single-estate coffees from the finest fincas in Venezuela with hefty helpings of popular dishes such as Pabellon Criollo, a perico platter and parchita (passion fruit) bon bons made from Venezuelan cocoa.

The song "Yo No Se", which plays in the background, comes from Amigos Invisible's album "Superpop".

To download Los Amigos Invisibles MP3 tracks click here:

To buy the CD "The Venezuelan Zinga Son, Vol. 1" click here:

To buy the new CD "Commercial" click here:




Arepa and Co: The only Venezuelan food outlet in the UK

Recipe: How to Make Arepas

Recipe: Caraotas Negras - Venezuelan Black Beans

Recipe: Carne Mechada - Venezuelan Shredded Beef

Pabellon Criollo - Venezuela's National Dish

Glossary: Eating at an Arepera

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Eating out - Arepera Glossary


Arepas are Venezuela's homegrown alternative to bread or rolls, cornmeal "cakes" about the size of a hockey puck that are crunchy on the outside but soft and fluffy on the inside.

Infinitely versatile, they can be eaten solo with butter or opened up and stuffed with a variety of fillings to make a delicious snack.

While most Venezuelans will eat arepas at home, if you want something more exotic - to quell your lunchtime hunger pangs or soak up the alcohol after a night on the tiles - then head to an arepera, Venezuela's very own fast-food joints.

First-timers will probably go for a simple option like ham or cheese, but if you want to try something more ambitious here is a brief glossary to help you negotiate the more head-scratching menu items at a typical arepera.


Arepa - Cooked cornmeal pocket stuffed with various ingredients.
Arepitas - Small fried arepas served as a starter to eat with nata (sour cream), or with soups and stews.
Arepa de Trigo - Large arepa from the Andes region made from wheat.

Fillings:
Aguacate - Avocado
Aguita 'e Sapo - Literally "Frog Water", but don't let the name put you off. This is just pernil (roast pork) in its juice, served with fried cheese. Found almost exclusively in Maracaibo.
Atun - Tuna salad with onions and a squeeze of lemon
Caraotas negras - Black beans
Carne mechada - Shredded beef
Chicharron - Pork crackling, also known in UK as pork scratchings
Chorizo - Spicy sausage
Diablitos - Devilled ham
Domino - Black beans and grated white cheese
Ensalada de Gallina - Chicken salad
Jamon - Ham
Montaña Rusa - Quail's eggs in mayonnaise (literally Russian Mountain, the term for a rollercoaster ride in Venezuela)
Morcilla - Black pudding
Orejas de Cochino - Snippets of pigs' ears in sauce
Pata-pata - Black beans, yellow cheese and avocado
Pelua - Shredded beef and grated yellow cheese
Perico - Scrambled eggs cooked with chopped tomato and onion
Pernil - Roast pork
Pollo guisado - Chicken cooked in a sauce
Popurri Criolla - Shredded beef, black beans and white cheese
Queso - Cheese
Queso de mano - Literally "hand cheese", a traditionally-made soft white country cheese
Queso Guayanes - Another soft white cheese
Reina Pepiada - Chicken, avocado, mayonnaise and peas

Sauces:
Guasacaca - Avocado sauce similiar to Mexican Guacamole but not as thick. Great for drizzling over arepas or empanadas. Every arepera has their own recipe.
Salsa picante - Hot sauce. Again, every place has its own recipe, so test to see if you can deal with the heat before drenching your food.

By Russell Maddicks

Recipe: How to Make Arepas

Buying Harina Pan in the UK

La Reina Pepiada: The Curvy Queen of Arepas

Arepa de Maiz Pelao: Making Arepas the Hard Way

Recipe: Caraotas Negras - Venezuelan Black Beans

Recipe: Carne Mechada - Venezuelan Shredded Beef

Pabellon Criollo - Venezuela's National Dish

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Cornmeal Cravings and the Hunt for Harina Pan


Sometimes you can travel the world looking for something only to get back and find it was just round the corner all along. That's what happened to me when I went looking for Harina Pan, the basic ingredient for Venezuelan arepas.

You can say what you like about arepas; I've heard them described as "bland stodge in a bun", which is unfair, and "about the size of an ice-hockey puck and just as easy to digest", which is only partly true (the bit about the size).

But for millions of Venezuelans, the arepa is their daily bread, a versatile savoury snack that can be baked, fried or grilled, but is always guaranteed to fill you up.

For millions of families in Venezuela a steaming arepa smothered with butter and stuffed with cheese or ham makes a delicious start to the day.

For clubbers, fast food joints called areperas offer arepas stuffed with black pudding and spicy chorizo sausage as a pick-me-up after a night of sweaty salsa dancing and Cuba Libre cocktails.

The thing is, once you've got the taste for arepas nothing else will give you the same satisfaction. It's such a blank canvas. The taste of the cornmeal is so soft and subtle that it brings out the flavour of anything you stuff inside it; meat, black beans, scrambled eggs, avocado, anything.

After I moved from Caracas to the small town of Caversham in the UK, it wasn't long before Summer turned to Autumn, sunny days turned to drizzly grey, and I started to hanker for a few tropical treats to brighten the gloom.

I didn't know it then but I was suffering from cornmeal withdrawal. I needed maize, ground pre-cooked maize flour made into a dough and gently patted into a flying saucer shape, lightly toasted on both sides in a frying pan to give it a "cara" and then popped into the oven for twenty minutes or so.

I needed arepas.

My cornmeal cravings got so bad that I started to hunt down stores in the UK that sold Harina Pan.

After a quick search on the Internet and a few dead ends I found that the best place to get my maize-flour fix was in London, in the shops run by Colombians and Ecuadorians next to Elephant and Castle tube station. Cool.

The big shopping centre and the small shops in the railway arches behind it are a also a great place to pick up other stuff, like hot picante sauce and Latin music.

Looking further afield I also tracked down a small cafe/store in Brixton selling Colombian food that was another source for the coveted ground-maize mix.

But it was an effort schlepping all the way into London for a few ingredients and I started to go less and less, limiting my arepa blowouts to the odd times when I was lucky enough to be able to visit Venezuela.

But things are looking up. I've just found this new place in Reading, just across the river from Caversham.

Al-Medina in Oxford Road looks like any other Asian food store from the outside. It sells okra, sweet potatoes, every curry sauce under the sun and those massive bags of rice. But inside, wedged between the herbs and spices they have a shelf stacked full of Harina Pan, the white one, la buena.

At only £1.89 it's also the cheapest Harina Pan I've found in the UK.

So if you're getting cornmeal cravings and you're hunting for Harina Pan in the Caversham, Reading or Berkshire area, look no further than Al-Medina on Oxford Rd.

Now, if only I can find some cachapa mix, Toddy, a little tin of diablitos, some Venezuelan peppers, you know, aji dulce, the small sweet ones, Pampero Rum, Torontos, an ice-cold Solera Verde, the new CD by Los Amigos Invisibles... and... and... and...

By Russell Maddicks

Recipe: How to Make Arepas

Arepa and Co: The only Venezuelan food outlet in the UK

Arepa de Maiz Pelao: Making Arepas the Hard Way

Glossary: Eating at an Arepera

La Reina Pepiada: The Curvy Queen of Arepas

Recipe: Caraotas Negras - Venezuelan Black Beans

Recipe: Carne Mechada - Venezuelan Shredded Beef

Pabellon Criollo - Venezuela's national Dish

Al-Medina Stores is at 168 Oxford Rd, Reading, RG1 7PL.

Friday, August 8, 2008

Pabellon Criollo - Venezuela's National Dish



Pabellon Criollo is not only Venezuela's national dish, it's also emblematic of the country; a hearty plate of simple food that mirrors the national flag and highlights the special mix of races that has made Venezuela a country of beauty queens.

A delicious combination of carne mechada (shredded beef), arroz blanco (white rice), caraotas negras (black beans) and tajadas (fried plantains), there are few places in Venezuela that you won't be able to find pabellon on the menu.

Look for the menu del dia or the menu ejecutivo, the cheap lunch options offered at many places, which generally include a soup as a starter, a fruit juice and sometimes a dessert.

Even in the humblest of luncherias pabellon should be accompanied with arepas, the cornmeal staples that Venezuelans eat in place of bread or rolls.

If you're really lucky your pabellon will arrive with a generous helping of salty white cheese grated over the black beans, or a slice of avocado on the side.

For a fried egg on top of the beef ask the waiter for your pabellon "a caballo" ("on horseback").

If you want to be really Venezuelan about it, you might want to follow local custom and stir a couple of teaspoons of sugar into the beans.

But the secret of any great pabellon is in the sofrito, the combination of onions, sweet peppers, bell peppers and adobo (seasoning) that the beef is cooked in, especially the amount of cumin used.

Along the coast, in Choroni, or in Margarita, the shredded beef is often replaced with cazon, or baby shark.

The most exotic version of the pabellon is served during the Catholic fasting period of Lent when you may find chiguire meat in place of the beef.

The chiguire is a large guinea-pig like rodent, better known outside Venezuela as a capybara. These giant rats may not look very appetizing, but they hold a special place in the cuisine of the Llanos, the seasonally-flooded plains populated by horse-riding cowboys.

Somewhat bizarrely, in the 17th century the local creoles were able to get the capybara classified as a fish by the Catholic Church, although it probably helped that nobody in Rome had ever seen one before.

It's certainly the oddest fish I've ever seen.

The closest translation of the name Pabellon Criollo is "Creole Flag," a clue to the patriotic significance that it holds for some Venezuelans, who see the yellow, red, blue and white of the national flag in the colours of the ingredients.

Other commentators see in it a reflection of Venezuela's racial mix: the indigenous Amerindians, Spanish conquistadors and African slaves who went into the country's melting pot.

More importantly for the traveller, pabellon is a healthy, filling lunch option that won't stretch the budget, although it might stretch the seams of your jeans if you overdo it.

By Russell Maddicks

Recipe: Carne Mechada - Shredded Beef

Recipe: Caraotas Negras - Venezuelan Black Beans

Recipe: Carne Mechada - Venezuelan Shredded Beef

Recipe: How to Make Arepas

Arepa and Co: The only Venezuelan food outlet in the UK

Glossary: Eating at an Arepera