From Afghanistan to Zambia via Jamaica and Montenegro join Fork and Flag for an epic voyage around the world on a culinary journey through London town. Forget expensive flights, carbon guilt and irksome visa regulations. Trade timezones for tube zones and sample 111 countries through the eclectic cuisine, eccentric waiters, eye-watering decor and evocative entertainment of its restaurants


Saturday 26 March 2011

Chile



Restaurant : Sabor
Location : Islington


By Boeing: 5454 miles

By Boris Bike: 2.1 miles


Having visited a strongly backed contender for the world’s best country and been served cheesy chips I arrived in Chile wondering whether 4000 miles of coastline would yield anything more appetising than a spam fritter. But whereas Canadians have kept little of their indigenous indulgences Chile’s heart still beats to an Inca rhythm. Although conquered by Spain, Chile, in contrast to many of its neighbours, has remained largely insulated from European influence. Its peoples lack the lackadaisical Latino languor of the Brazilian or the air of insouciant arrogance of the Argentine.

But restaurateurs in rent rich districts like Islington cannot risk the wait for a unique taste to be acquired; safer surely to offer a range of tastes acquired across a much broader region. Whereas Brazilian samba and Argentine sirloin can command their own restaurants, other nations in the region are often subsumed into pan-South American eateries, each represented by a dish or two on a continental menu. Sabor, softly lit in understated minimalist white, styles itself as a fusion restaurant, offering south American flavours tailored to a European palette with a morsel rather than a mouthful of authenticity.

With a swanky South Bank style Sabor traded the cultural clutter of a neighbourhood bistro for a sparse, modernist feel with colourful table-tops provided a flash of colour. Looking around there were few clues as to the origin of the cuisine, other than painted animal heads jutting from the wall. The closest to us, a Bull, had angry eyes as if riled by a matador. Further into the narrow restaurant i saw a stern looking goat, a ram along with other random ruminants, each painted in bold, brilliant colours, like totems watching over proceedings. The animal heads, though more imposing than impressive, were fitting for a country who boast a wealth of flora and fauna in a landscape encompassing salt deserts, glacial national parks, snow covered peaks, fjords, peninsulas and promontories.



I had hoped to try an authentic Inca dish of Rabbit in a chocolate sauce. Centuries before pompous celebrity chefs claimed to have invented chocolate as a savoury ingredient, challenging perceptions that it was limited to sickly sweet deserts, the Inca peoples cultivated cocoa and infused it with Chile and spice to create heavy, hearty stews. But despite its novelty appeal it had clearly not proved popular for the delicate palates and pinched waistlines of fusion food aficionados. While featuring on the web-site it had been dispensed with presumably for more frequently ordered continental alternative.

But hidden amongst a vast array of starters were Quinoa fritters. Quinoa was a high yield, high protein Inca crop that has been wholeheartedly adopted by the smug suburban super-foods generation who swear by its nutritional value and seek it out in the organic aisles of their local Waitrose. They came looking like large falafel patties, with a semblance of salad and a dollop of an angry looking salsa. With a nutty flavour and the texture of buckwheat they were wholesome without being particularly memorable. My companion's seafood empanadas seemed to offer a little more by way of fire and flavour.

With fusion food what is lost in flavour and portion size is compensated by a supplement to the price. Starters are merely hors d'oevres on larger plates while main courses are tapas size. My Chourico was very good, but was conspicuous by its lack of a companion. In a transport cafe the minimum quota for sausage and chips would be three, but the rule-book is different in fusion cuisine. My companion had a seafood dish that came as a thick soup with a pair of langoustine eyes peering above the surface. Though the particular dish was of Brazilian origin it was typical of a Chilean seafood stew, a south American equivalent of a Bouillebaisse. Such is the sheer length of the Coastline there are species of fish unique to Chile and with such bountiful waters many recipes feature fish and crustacea.

With our meals we sampled a Chilean Red. A relatively recent import to Britain Chilean wine has become one of the favourites of the New world wines. Indeed Chile is now the fifth largest exporter of wine in the world.

With such a wide range of landscapes and ecosystems tourists seeking all manner of different holidays head to Chile, from apres ski enthusiasts to shaggy haired surfers. But Chile's unique tourist attraction is not in the mainland at all but far away in Polynesia. Easter Island, the UNESCO world heritage site, has captured the imagination of the world with its monumental statues of ancient faces that jut from the barren landscape. It is thought these statues were built by an ancient Polynesian peoples that travelled thousands of miles by canoe. Historians believe that the ancestor cult, veneration of which inspired the construction of the eery, ethereal statues gave way to a birdman cult. Easter Islanders to this day head down to Bognor Regis to throw themselves off their pier.

Chile is one of the more stable, affluent South American countries, blessed with an abundance of natural resources and stunning scenary. It is shame though, that in England at least, it remains a relatively unknown culture, without the exposure of the countries on the Atlantic Coast. It's own London restaurant that celebrates rather than comprimises its culture would certainly help.