Caracas Arepa Bar

In 2008, I was moments from packing my things and jetting to Caracas, Venezuela. A close friend of mine, who is involved in the business of making films, was contemplating shooting a documentary about the social and political unrest that Hugo Chavez has brought to his homeland. I’ve always been enticed by Venezuela, and South America in general, so I figured this would be a great place to complete my collegiate thesis on political propaganda. The foodie in me was desperate to try the cuisine, mainly, an authentic arepa, which is a corn pocket of sorts filled with, well, whatever you want, mostly due to my friend’s undying passion for them. Then I realized that shooting an anti-Chavez expose on the exploitation of the Venezuelan people would probably result in an express kidnapping at best, and my swift imprisonment and eventual execution at worst. So I didn’t go. But I still desperately wanted an arepa.

In Venezuela, arepas are everywhere. My Venezuelan friend describes, "There are many different kinds of Arepas in Venezuela, as a matter of fact, there are different kinds of Arepas all over Latin America. What makes an Arepa so good? It’s simply love, and the fact that you can pretty much fill your Arepa up with anything, and eat it pretty much any time of day. For example, it is perfectly common to begin your day with an “Arepa de Jamon y Queso” (ham and cheese). At lunch you can go to the local “Arepera” and have my personal favorite, an “Arepa de Pabellon Criollo”. The Pabellon Criollo is the national dish, which includes shredded beef, black beans, white rice, fried plantain and shredded cheese spread on top. For dinner, you can go home and enjoy a delicious “Reina Pepi’a” which is made with a typical Venezuelan chicken salad known as “ensalada de gallina” (hen salad) and avocados. If you are still hungry later on and the kitchen in your house is closed, don’t worry Areperas never do."

In New York City, most arepas are found in the lowest dregs of the culinary world. They are an unfortunate staple of those street fairs that pop up for a few hours or so, seemingly serving only to fuck up traffic, and sell crap that literally nobody buys – like dreamcatchers. These knockoff arepas taste like deep fried plastic, and they aren’t that cheap either. Until I found Caracas Arepa Bar, that was my only option short of risking my neck in South America.

Caracas Arepa Bar has an impressive array of arepas to try, usually featuring some combination of meat, cheese, bean, avocado, fried plantains, or vegetables. According to my buddy, a trip to Caracas Arepa Bar wouldn’t be complete without trying the Arepa de Pabellón. Stuffed into the corn pocket is a bounty shredded beef, black beans, white salty cheese and sweet plantains. It’s outrageously good to say the least. The ingredients logically belong together, and I’d be glad to devour them on a plate with a fork any day, but the arepa adds depth of texture and a sweet corn flavor that brings it up a level. It functions almost the same way as a pita in Middle Eastern cuisine. Sure, I would love to eat falafal and hummus any way I can, but a portable holder for your food makes it more intimate. Eat with your hands whenever possible.

The arepas are sort of pricey, usually running between six and eight dollars a pop, but two will be more than enough. I’d recommend going for lunch, where you can get an arepa, a soup, or a salad all for eight dollars. The soup varies, but when I went, it was a delicious butternut squash. For a winter’s day, it was the perfect pick-me-up before I could really get going and dive face first into my arepa. Just look at all that delicious cheese. I’d make that exchange over a dollop of sour cream or crème fraiche any day.

The restaurant is small, so you might have to wait for a table, but its size adds to its charm. The Arepa Bar feels much like a small home. It is filled with Venezuelan memorabilia, fully decked out in the yellow, red, and blue colors of the flag. As I sat enjoying my arepa, I looked up at the wall only to find an very eerie bobblehead doll of Hugo Chavez leering at me. Images of Chucky from the Child’s Play films came to mind, only instead of slicing me into pieces, the Chavez doll would have censored this post (and then probably have me sliced to pieces.) Until next time, stay hungry out there amigos.

Report Card:

Food: B+

Atmosphere: B+

Service: B

Price: $$

Overall: B+