Caracas Arepas Bar (New York, USA)

Caracas Arepas Bar (New York, USA)

Caracas Arepas Bar
93 1/2 E 7th St
New York, NY 10009
East Village

+1 (212) 529-2314 (I dunno if it’s really a booking kind of place though)

Arepas range from USD7 – 8.50 each (excluding tips, etc.)  

The deal:
We had a US Supercoach (abbreviated to USSC) who provided us with many fuck yeah New York pro tips.  Given his East Village expertise, one of his MUST DO recommendations was Caracas Arepas Bar.  After finding pictures of arepas before we touched down, Mr Noms and I were already trading anticipatory single worded messages to each other simply declaring “AREPAAAASSSSS” for weeks in the lead up.  When we finally tumbled into Caracas Arepas Bar, jetlagged and literally hours from finishing a fuck no 15 hour flight, we stared at the menu overwhelmed by feelings.  For those that don’t know, arepas originate from Venezuela and consist of a grilled and baked corn bun (fuck yeah, no gluten motherfuckers) which is then stuffed with ingredients such as chicken, pork, cheese and black beans.  Dazed and confused as fuck given the timezone changes, I settled on the La Sureña arepa (USD8.5) – promising grilled chicken, chorizo with avocado and quote “the classic and always enigmatic spicy chimi-churri sauce”.  I am unsure what made it enigmatic but I know that once I had that gritty bunned arepa in my life, a million fuck yeahs ricocheted through my travel weary body.

FYN artistic rendition of my reaction at this point in time:


I begged Mr Noms to let me order another so I could double fist arepas into my goddamn face, but he claimed (reasonably) we should exercise restraint given the amount of eating available in the East Village.  I grudgingly agreed, reflecting upon our FUCK YEAH arepa as we walked down the street as I wistfully sang “Near, far, wherever you are I believe that the heart does go on” in its memory.

Given we are travelling, our time is limited and to double down on the same restaurant shows the extent of our FUCK YEAH love for Caracas Arepas Bar.  Granted our return visit was under less illustrious circumstances – following a marathon drinking session at The Top of the Standard, fuelled by a Jamaican/Australian barman homie who after learning we were Australian he declared “WOOOHEEEEE, someone’s getting fucked up tonight” (hot tip, it wasn’t him).  Our new friend idly paid no attention to the fact he was free pouring rum into a jug of mojitos before providing us with another separate glass of rum to add once we’d had a glass so there’d be more jug room. MY AMERICAN HOMIES, do you feel that drinking in countries other than the Land of the Free Pour is an exercise in merely drinking mint and soda with a hint of some sort of alcohol?  Unable to feel our faces, we cabbed back to Caracas to Go and I deployed Mr Noms to order a De Pabellón (USD8 – shredded beef, black beans, white salty cheese and sweet plantains) and a Reina Pepiada arepa (USD7.50  – shredded chicken mixed with my love, avocado) to try and mitigate some of the free pour damage.  The Arepas Homie may or may not have asked him “Is that your wife leaning against a tree outside?” as I mashed my fingers against my phone, in an unsuccessful attempt to message the USSC that we were back, buying more fuck yeah arepas and that Murica is the tits.

We woke up in the morning to a sea of plantain chips, aluminium foil and paper towels.  But no fucking regrets.  My heart will indeed go on when I return to the Kong and a fuck no arepa-less existence.  Too fucking sad, I will miss you dearly Mr Areppaaaasssss.

FUCK YEAH, arepppppaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaas!!!

  • A Fuck Yeah Noms Review - 33 Cafe y Muchos Mas
    Posted at 16:41h, 20 September Reply

    […] deal: I have fond fuck yeah memories of arepas, tied largely to being at Caracas Arepas in the East Village of NYC and smashing these gritty grilled and baked corn buns stuffed with fuck […]

Fuck yeah or fuck no?

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