The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
WHERE TO FIND COLOMBIAN FOOD
9 things to know when you visit these restaurants.
Colombian restaurants aren’t new to Atlanta. Between a trio situated on or near Buford Highway in Doraville, and another in Marietta, these eateries have served up empanadas, arepas, patacones (fried green plantain) also referred to as tostones, fried yuca and other national hits for some time.
Have you checked these spots out lately?
I did, on a four-stop tour, looking to see what they offered, to gauge how some classics sized up one from the other and, truth be told, to have an excuse to speak Spanish. I ended this project not just happily stuffed but certain that I’ve already hit my meat quota for the year — just in time to shift into Friday fish fry mode.
Here are some takeaways from metro Atlanta’s Colombian comida circuit:
Agua, por favor. Fancy restaurants will offer you sparkling, still or tap water. At Colombian places, you won’t get that offer, but you will want to order agua from the menu. In the “bebidas,” or drinks, section, you’ll find “jugos.” Some are straight-up tropical juices, like guava (guayaba), soursop (guanabana), mango or passion fruit (maracuya). They are thirst-quenching, flavorful and offer exotic fruit education in a glass (try the slightly tart, citrusy lulo fruit juice at La Casona). At Casa Vieja, a misunderstood order brought a taste of “jugo natural con leche.” It’s a happy mistake when soursop juice gets blended with milk. It begets a light, frothy, milkshake-esque concoction that settles a sugar fix but goes down the gullet feeling like only a minor indulgence.
Sopa before seco. Eat out at Colombian restaurants in close succession, and you’ll wonder where the veggies are. Yes, there’s avocado — Colombians treat this fruit as its own food group, and sometimes it’s offered as a salad when paired with iceberg lettuce and tomato. But soup is where
you’ll find a few other fixings from the produce section, albeit mainly starches.
Among soups, the most memorable are those from La Casona. Soup is part of its lunch special, and among offerings one chilly, wet winter day was a restorative, brothy chicken soup bobbing with disks of corn on the cob and chunks of potato. A beef and plantain soup came in a close second. La Casona also has a lineup of weekends-only soups and stews, including a couple of versions of sancocho (beef or stewing hen) and mondongo (tripe with vegetables).
“Seco” means dry in Spanish. Colombian culture dictates that soup comes before the second course that holds all the “dry” dishes that lean on meat and carbs. So sup on soup first.
Starches from A to Y. Colom-
bian fare is carb heavy. There are arepas, flat cakes made from maize. Order them as an appetizer and you’ll typically get a large round disk accompanied with helpings of grilled steak or chicken, chorizo or another protein. Smaller arepas are often served with entrees and are generally included in appetizer platters. Root veggie yuca most often comes fried in thick-cut wedges as addictive as french fries when you squirt them with salsa rosada, a mix of mayo and ketchup that tastes like Thousand Island dressing without the tang.
Sandwiched between the letters A and Y are starches like empanadas (the beef-stuffed ones at Las Delicias de la Abuela were standouts), boiled potatoes, rice, fried sweet plantain (plátano maduro) and twice-fried green plantains (patacones/tostones) that you’ll want to dip in a hogao, a Creole sauce of stewed peppers and tomatoes. And practically any of the above pairs well with ají, a thin, vinegar-based hot sauce holding cilantro, jalapeno and onion.
Bring on the Bandeja Paisa. The Bandeja Paisa is a traditional, meat-centric platter from the Paisa region in northwest Colombia. Each metro Atlanta restaurant that I visited has it on the menu, and each has its own manner of platter composition. In general, it’s piled with grilled steak, pork skins (chicharrones), fried green plantain, rice, beans and avocado. My favorite was that from Casa Vieja, probably because its rack of chicharrones were the best of the bunch — crunchy, fatty, meaty and oily enough not to be dry as a bone. If you’re in the mood but want a scaled-down version, order the “mini.”
Put your money on the lunch special. Weekday lunch specials are an affordable way to fuel up. La Casona offers a bargain lunch special that runs $7.95 Mondays through Thursdays and $8.95 on Fridays. One day, it brought a whole, fried tilapia with tostones, saffron rice and a beet salad. It also comes complete with a cup of soup and a glass of juice.
The meat of the matter. Carnivores, if you want satisfaction from a big old slab of meat, order the Carne a la Parrilla at Casa Vieja. This strip steak came out gorgeously seared and sizzling hot on a cast-iron skillet. Tender forkfuls didn’t need a dip in the accompanying chimichurri, but when you’ve got a chunky, garlicky, herbaceous sauce in front of you, you can’t help but dip.
For a meat combo, try the Tamal Colombiano at Kiosco. Inside the corn masa is a filling of beef, chicken, chorizo and pork pieces. If you’re used to something like a Mexican tamale made with ground beef, the generous shreds and chunks of a mix of meats is a nice change-up.
If everyone in your party has a hankering for meat, head to Las Delicias de la Abuela and order the Picada de la Abuela. It truly is a mountain of meat: chorizo, blood sausage, chicharrones, pork ribs and grilled chicken strips piled over those aforementioned starches from letters A to Y.
For the seafood lover in you. Among seafood dishes, Casa Vieja’s Cazuela de Mariscos is the one I’d return for. This creamy seafood stew is teeming with crab, mussels, octopus and shrimp. It’s mild in flavor, velvety in texture and once you alternate bites of stew with the accompanying rice, it’s as satisfying as any soupy Indian curry.
Colorful spaces will cheer you up. Winter weather got you down? Places like Las Delicias de la Abuela, Casa Vieja and La Casona are so bright with primary colors you’d think you’re visiting Sesame Street. When it comes to ambiance, the decor of faux clay tile roofing at Casa Vieja and La Casona gives off the air of a pueblo. Then again, there are those picnic tables in the rear of Las Delicias de la Abuela. You don’t get much more family-friendly than that. Come and play, everything’s a-OK.
No habla español ? No hay problema. If “no hablo español ” is the only Spanish you know, don’t let that stop you from paying these places a visit. At Casa Vieja, the friendly staff spoke very limited English, but the menu offers English translations, so just point. At Las Delicias de la Abuela, La Casona and Kiosco, the staff is bilingual.