The word “arepa” did not exist to me until three years ago. My knowledge of Latin American cuisine was limited to the Mexican food of my California hometown. We’re known for the La Victoria Taquerias and their special orange sauce, but to me, the best Mexican place is a cash-only stand with picnic table seating serving classics like massive burritos, tacos, and quesadillas stuffed so full that they might as well be burritos. Growing up, I’d be hard-pressed to list foods from anywhere further south of the border.
Now, my partner and I pan-fry white cornmeal dough into little crispy disks and stuff them with salty, crumbly queso fresco and sautéed bell peppers at least twice a month for a Colombian/Venezuelan-inspired dinner.
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