Sense and Memory

Rather than indulging in a long explanation/apology about the 3-month gap between posts,I'm going to get right down to business.

My knowledge of Venezuela comes from years of listening to NPR, so I know that it's an urban, oil-rich country with a leader who doesn't get along too well with the current U.S. administration. Looking at a map, I see that it's further north and East than I thought, on the Caribbean not the Pacific. Venezuelan food was completely unknown to me, though I have a general sense of what to expect from South American food. So after noticing it several times across the parking lot from Cafe Thao Mi, I decided to try Andanita's Restaurante Venezolano.



Located in the Carriage Square shopping center on 4100 south and Redwood Road, next to one of the Utah's few remaining Godfather's pizza locations, Andinitas is tiny, with about six tables and three stools at the counter. When I have visited, one or two of these tables have been occupied by families lingering over imported soft drinks and empty plates, conversing in Spanish. The menu is a single page, with a small and focused selection of appetizers, sandwiches, soups, and platters. The small menu and the presence of other patrons reassures me that the food is likely fresh, in stark contrast to some South American Restaurants on the West Side that sport huge selections of food and no customers at lunchtime.

The unquestioned star of the show at Andanita's is the patacones (fried plantain) sandwich. Halves of starchy green or sweet yellow plantain are smashed flat and deep-fried to a crispy brown, then used in place of bread. The plantain sandwich is built from the bottom up with iceberg lettuce, onion, avocado, and mildly seasoned shredded chicken. White cheese, similar in flavor to Swiss, is melted on top of the chicken, then topped with thin slices of ham and an orange sauce that would be described as Russian dressing anywhere else, but that our server told us was fry sauce (when in Rome, I guess). Two salsas are served on the side, a chunky piquant green chili and tomatillo sauce, and a creamy smooth avacado and cilantro sauce. With sweet yellow plantain, the flavors of the sandwich are predominantly sweet and mild, with all the spice coming from the hot green salsa. It's a knife-and-fork affair, served alone on a plate, big enough to make a full meal without anything on the side for $6.99.



During the food discussion that starts around ten most weekday mornings, I described the patacones sandwich to my coworkers, five of whom wanted to try it.  Six was a large group for the small dining room, but we were cheerfully accomidated with two tables pushed together.  When one of my associates asked for chips and salsa, she was informed "We are Venezuelan. this is not a Mexican resaturant."  Shortly afterward, we were brought one plate with 6 chicken pasteles, and another with 6 cheese empanadas.  Both were memorably delicious, and neither appeared on our bill. 



















For novelty's sake, I sampled the Arepas pabellon sandwich, on fried corn flatbread, with shredded beef, black beans, plantain, salty cheese, onion lettuce,and avocado. At $3.50, it wasn't as massive as the patacones, but would hold its own against any hamburger in town.  It would go well with a bowl of Andanita's weekend soup.



Andanita's is a hidden gem exciting enough to lift me from a three-month blogging stupor.  Small, family-run, and hospitable, with food that's lovingly prepared and genuinely novel to my North American palate, I will be returning there often this winter.  I'm told that November first will mark their one-year anniversary, and that they will host a celebration that day. 

More pictures of Andanita's food, and a snapshot of their menu right here.

Update: Craving empanadas, I went to Andanita's at lunch today and found a sign on the door advertising new hours.  The restaurant is open Thursday-Sunday only.  Times are tough all over.



 

Current Mood: hungry