I've recently developed a love/hate relationship with one of the most insane dishes I have ever eaten in my life - the chorrillana - so I feel the need to devote at least a couple paragraphs of this blog to this issue.
My first encounter with a chorrillana happened at about 4 a.m. on a Saturday in a greasy spoon restaurant ("fuente de soda" - Chilean style) after a long night out on the town. Brooke, our Chilean friend Francisco and I were looking for a little something to snack on to soak up the beverages we'd been consuming all night, and since there's no 24-hour drive-thru McDonald's in Santiago (BUMMER), we ended up just wandering around the streets trying to find a place that served up some tasty options.
We randomly walked into a restaurant that served your typical, cheap Chilean fare (ham and cheese sandwiches called "barros jarpa," disgusting hot dogs covered in avocado, tomato and mayo called "completo italiano," sliced beef sandwiches with various toppings called "churrasco," etc.) and began scoping out the menu when Francisco suggested we share a chorrillana. I had never heard of it before but was enticed when he described it as "french fries with a bunch of stuff on it" ... and he wasn't kidding.
The waitress set a heaping plate in front of us and it took Brooke and I a few minutes to figure out what we were looking at: a HUGE pile of fries covered with slices of sausage and hot dogs, some kind of beef, onions, and a couple fried eggs plopped on the top. Francisco proceeded to soak a section with mustard and dive right in, so Brooke and I followed suit.
It was INSANELY good ... at the moment. The fries were the perfect amount of crunchy and soggy, the sausage was spicy, the meat was juicy, the eggs added no flavor whatsoever but they looked cool, and I don't do hot dogs but I assume they were delicious as well.
We scarfed that thing down right quick, paid our bill, and headed out feeling extremely satisfied. Just about the time our taxi pulled up to the "residencia" where I lived, I started feeling the after-effects of my new favorite late-night munchie. I'll let you all draw your own conclusions on that one.
When I woke up the next morning I made a promise to myself to never again eat a chorrillana: a vow that lasted a solid 3 weeks.
Your typical Chilean chorrillana in all it's greasy glory.
The chorrillana makes an appearance at Steve's birthday party!
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