Arepas are commonly confused with those greasy corn and mozzarella cakes served ubiquitously at summer street fairs. Those are Americanized mozzarepas people! And while they're pretty damn tasty on their own, they're not the Venezuelan street-cart staple served at Caracas Brooklyn, a new Williamsburg branch of the popular East Village café.
In 2003, former advertising creative Maribel Araujo began selling her version out of a tiny storefront on East Seventh Street, and soon homesick South American expats like actor Gael Garcia Bernal, along with adventurous East Villagers, packed the dozen seats. Waits bordered on Lombardi's length. The reason? A perfect combination of thrift (around $6 a pop) and straight-up deliciousness (we hate to drop the D word, but it's appropriate).
Araujo's arepa, executed by longtime chef Ilse Parra, is a cross between a stuffed pita and taco: A semi-sweet cornmeal cake is grilled and then baked, creating both a deep crunch and soft inside. The palm-size shell is then stuffed with a variety of savory fillings, from guacamole and farm cheese to shredded beef and roasted pork shoulder. The wisest diners garnish the steaming pocket with a burst of Araujo's secret (life-changing) vinegar sauce.
We spoke with the owner about her new Brooklyn branch and throwing down with Bobby Flay.
Most people think arepas are those sweet, mozzarella cakes served at street fairs. This is certainly not the case.
The mozzarepa is the American version of the average Colombian arepa, which is usually eaten with butter or cheese. It's not bad, it's just different. Ours are homemade-style Venezuelan arepas, which is important to point out. If you go to Venezuela, you will find arepas very different from ours. We make ours like our moms make them at home. It's a dual process with the dough-it goes to the grill, then the oven. So the outside is crispy and the inside is doughy and steamy. It's a big reason people get hooked on us. It reminds people of home.
Do you have a fan-favorite arepa?
Yes, the one we beat Bobby Flay with in the Throwdown. It's called pabellón and it's like a little concentrated Venezuela stuffed inside an arepa. It has shredded beef, black beans, sweet fried plantains and cold-aged guayanesa cheese.
So you beat Bobby. Was there ever a doubt?
He did a lot of research, I give him credit. And he was really fun to work with. But the arepa itself wasn't good. It was more of a polenta than anything. The filling was fine, but the filling can be anything.
Opening a restaurant right now has got to be, well, interesting...
It's kinda like the unironic thing to do. Yes, it's stressful. But arepas are a concept that fits both New York and a time of recession. It's affordable, and you can come every single day and have something different every time.
Do you have plans to expand more? The model certainly lends to franchising.
Of course we'd like to be a franchise one day, but it's a really unique project. It's romantic in a way. A lot of our friends helped us with the new restaurant, and we were able to do things the way we wanted to. We often have people ask to invest or become partners, but we turn them away. We're old-fashioned, I guess.
Last question. What exactlis y in your vinegar-based arepa sauce?
Matt, that is our retirement.




What other people are saying...
missginsu from Greenpoint - February 09, 2009 at 4:57 PM
Aw, man. The pabellón really is heaven on earth. One of those slathered in their divine arepa sauce alongside a banana batida... My favorite meal.
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