Café Choroní
It's been a while since I've blogged. I've been busy. For the past couple of months I've been helping with the construction and preparations for opening Father Funk's new restaurant, Café Choroní. Father Funk, and his friend, Nemo, decided to follow their dreams and open their own Venezuelan restaurant in Albuquerque. It's been very exciting. Laramie Square, yo, on the corner of San Mateo and Candelaria.
Choroní is on the Caribbean coast of Venezuela, about 4 hours west of Caracas, and it is the place that Father Funk and Nemo used to go as kids to vacation. That's how the name was born. Here is the entrance and our sign.
I love this vintage cooler. We had to restore it by painting it, putting up some faux wood contact paper, and polishing the steel. Thats Quesillo on the far right. It's like a carmelized Flan.
Our beverage line-up. Malta, and coke in the bottle.
Can't sleep on the Jumex though.
The tentative menu. Today's Feature, Cachapas, some legit Venezuelan shit. It's a corn pancake folded in half with melted cheese.
Here's a shot as you walk in. I painted the tables and I am proud of them. We also built that free-standing awning like the ones on the beach back on the motherland.
Father Funk in his usual pondering mode, early in the mornin' waiting for the customers.
The restaurant has been doing incredibly well for being open for just a week. And we've been getting good feedback from the clientele, they LOVE the food. They claim that it is so refreshing to get away from the tacos and burritos of NM. That's a painting I did for the restaurant. It depicts the Choroní Bay.
I forgot I had pictures of this. This is the blank canvas from a couple of weeks ago.
Josie blessed me with the legit orange pancakes with an egg on top to fill my empty stomach before painting.
Doin' the damn thang.
Amost done. I was pretty pleased with it. I haven't painted in almost 5 years.
Boats and footsteps detail.
Peep game.
Ok, so back to the café. The joint is pimp. Little seating area for the free WiFi services, and the coffee station for free refills. A Father Funk original painting on the left, and a guitar I painted in college on the right. In the middle is a picture of Nemo's grandfather in exile (he was a rebel).
At around 9am we start cooking for the lunch rush. Harina Pan is needed to make the staple of Venezuelan cuisine, Arepas.
Mixing the masa.
Sculpting the perfect Arepa.
After cooking them, we fill them with any protein the customer desires. In this case we were making the Reina Pepiada, the loaded Queen, which is a special chicken salad mixed with fresh avocado and stuffed into the Arepa.
naughty-time.
A Cachapa. By far the most delicious breakfast ever.
Oh yeah, you can stuff this bad boy with carne mechada, pernil, or chicken too.
And our champion dish, Pabellón Criollo, which is carne mechada, magic black beans, fried plantains, and your choice of white or yellow rice. Game over.
After the lunch rush was over, I stepped out for a cigarette outside. It is such a contrast from being inside. It's like, hey ass-wipe, you're in Albuquerque, turn down your f'n harp music.
Back inside, I created an Arepa never heard of even in Venezuela, The New Mexican. It is an Arepa stuffed with magic black beans, cheese, carne mechada, perico (venezuelan style eggs), and covered in green chile sauce. We decided to put it on the menu. Yessss!
Robo-toot.
After a long week of cooking and washing dishes (which was awesome, I love helping Father Funk and fellow patriot, Nemo, run the one and ONLY Venezuelan restaurant in the Southwest)
I was off to Santa Fe. Right on time, it was Gourmet Burger week at the Railyard.
Josie's future was bright that day and every day there after.
Doing what I do best and finally able to rock the pony.
Hamburgler time. I got the Sirloin Steak, Josie got the Kobe. Hers was much yummier.
High-fives everywhere. Thank you Josie for putting up with my endless burger cravings.
I'm moving to Santa Fe this week I'm really pumped. I'll post again after I'm settled.
And if you are in Albuquerque, DO, and I repeat, do yourself a favor and go to Choroní. You will not regret it. Prrrrnt.
posted by Enrique at
12:48 PM
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