Comiendo en Colombia: The Dos and Don’ts

Anna Calder

Arriving in Colombia as a vegetarian, I had already admitted to myself that I might have to make some changes to my diet to fit in and make the most of the food culture. On my first day in the office this was confirmed, as my colleagues discussed amongst themselves how ridiculous it would be to be vegetarian in Colombia. Instead of telling them that I was in fact, vegetarian, I did what any Brit would do: smiled awkwardly and agreed that it would be outrageous.

And that’s how it began, my spiral into carnivorism. My first challenge was a ‘tamal’, which I recognised the name of having watched Ugly Betty, but of the contents I was clueless. In a bid to eat with my new Colombian co-workers who raved about the unknown speciality, I innocently agreed to pay my boss to get me one to enjoy at lunchtime.

Credit: Tamales Oaxaqueños - Cookidoo® – the official Thermomix® recipe platform

Credit: Tamales Oaxaqueños - Cookidoo® – the official Thermomix® recipe platform

As the only foreigner in the office, all eyes were on me when it came to the taste test. On first sight, all I could see was a leaf. Slightly confused, and not wanting to start eating the seemingly inedible greenery, I waited and watched the others unfold the package, to reveal what honestly, I can only describe as mashed potato. A big, rectangular, pile of mashed potato. Don’t get me wrong – I love mash, it’s one of the best forms of potato – but, when all day people have been hyping up a dish in a country you associate with spicy flavours, it was a bit of a let-down. However, shortly after I did discover that there was some dry, overcooked meat stuffed in the middle. It was pass the parcel gone very wrong.

Clearly, they wanted to ease me in slowly, as the following week they took me to a lady who specialised in making ‘morcilla’. I was not only lucky enough to try the morcilla, but also to make it. Hungover. At ten in the morning.

The only way that I can describe morcilla is the equivalent to a Scottish black pudding. The contents are the exact same, except it’s not stuffed inside sheep stomach. As a vegetarian, blood pudding is probably pushing it to the extreme when you say you’ll “just try some of the meat for the experience”, and especially when you find yourself handling pig gut. However, having said that, it was rather delicious.

Credit: screenshot from ANA LA EXPLORADORA - Inglesa aprende a hacer morcilla con una experta - YouTube

Credit: screenshot from ANA LA EXPLORADORA - Inglesa aprende a hacer morcilla con una experta - YouTube

From what I have said above, it may seem like I was plied with meat all day long in Colombia, but I did manage to try some pretty damn good vegetarian items. Some of my personal favourites were the ‘patacones’ (friend plantain) and ‘arepas’ (a typical maize bread). There are actually 75 different types of arepa that exist in Colombia, and in the Antioquia region I was in it was not uncommon to have an arepa with every meal of the day.

Now, I’ve heard a lot of criticism about the arepa: it’s too dry, it’s flavourless, the texture is weird. But, I have to take a stand and champion Colombia’s cultural symbol. With a little bit of ‘choclo’ (cheese) or some guacamole, these babies are pretty tasty. If I had to compare an arepa with something English, I’d probably say it’s like having bread and butter. Classic, filling and no fuss. Also, I’m pretty sure that if you start slamming an arepa then you just aren’t going to make friends in Colombia.

Credit: screenshot from ANA LA EXPLORADORA - ¿Será que puede contra la INMENSA PICADA PAISA? - YouTube

Credit: screenshot from ANA LA EXPLORADORA - ¿Será que puede contra la INMENSA PICADA PAISA? - YouTube

However, if you do want to make friends in Colombia, then ‘aguardiente’ might be your answer. This anise-flavoured liqueur, very famous in Colombia, is to put it lightly, revolting. Drank neat and ranging from 29-60% on volume depending what type you go for, it’s not one for the faint-hearted. Personally, I absolutely hate aniseed and liquorice flavours, and even the smell of sambuca can make me feel sick. As a result, this really wasn’t my preferred drink. Having said that, it didn’t stop me spending a good number of pesos buying rounds for me and my friends in the Parque Lleras. I know, I’m a legend. 

To finish on a sweet note, I need to sing the praises of ‘arequipe’ (a dulce de leche-like product). I tried a lot of amazing natural, healthy fruit in Medellín, from mango to ‘maracuya’ (passionfruit). But nothing can beat the sweet, caramelly taste of ‘arequipe’. You may need eight fillings as soon as you’ve eaten a teaspoon of it, but I can assure you that it’s worth it.

Overall, I wouldn’t recommend you visit Colombia for the food or the drink. It’s not bad, but it’s not great. If you’re looking for flavour and spice, I’d direct you in a more northern direction to Mexico. However, if you’re looking for fun, great people, great places and the best place to visit then I’d have to say, Colombia is the way to go.  

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