Churrasco Completo (Chile’s Complete Beef)

Location: Restaurant Tutto Pollo in Santiago de Chile, Chile

Address: Merced 802, Santiago Centro, Chile, tel. 6395763

Cost: about 3500 CLR (Chilean Pesos)- 6.49 USD

Glass display cabinet at Tutto Pollo Restaurant

I’ve never been much of a sandwich connoisseur, but I fully admit that Chile knows how to take a cow, add some vegetables, smash it into a bun, and call it a Churrasco Completo.  This is one of a handful of sandwich stacks in the world that I would vouch for, recommend, and deem as mandatory cuisine (Laos Style Sandwich).

Flame grilled, thinly cut, and probably a 1/2 kilo of quality Chilean beef, forms the mountain like foundation of the Churrasco.  Some sandwiches contain a green bean mixture while others add a pile of sauerkraut to entertain a tangy zest. An entire sliced tomato or even two conjoin the mass of coarsely smushed avocado, ingredients I think are key to making the sandwich complete. The buns are lightly toasted on the grill and then given the important job of binding the bulky mess together and calling it a Completo. When the sandwich is full grown, it can often reach a 1/2 foot or maybe even 8 inches in diameter!

As you take your first bite of Chilean Churrasco Completo with chunks of buttery avocado and sweet tangy chili sauce falling out the rear, you will realize that indeed it is a sandwich that is complete!

Migration Mark Rating: 7/10

NOTE: I’m looking for some SHORT guest posts to showcase interesting or simply delicious foods from around the globe by travelers and voracious eaters. If you are interested, please e-mail me migrationology[at]gmail[dot]com

Here’s what you will need:

1. Name of dish, name of restaurant (address if known), world location, and cost
2. 1-3 pictures (600×800 jpeg best)
3. Short descriptive paragraph or two

Thanks a lot,

Migration Mark

“A hot dog, 12 bites of macaroni and cheese, and 8 squares of Lindt dark chocolate was one of the best Thanksgivings I have had.”

A year ago I was with my buddy Luke in the spectacular Torres Del Paine National Park in Patagonia, located in the Southern icy part of Chile.  We had planned a 10 day trek covering the Q trail or hiking a circumference around the famed mountain park.

Along with our modest clothing which was far, far, away from gore-tex (like everyone else), we had to carry ten days of food  (it’s quite a lot) with us.  We deemed it beneficial to sacrifice nutrients for carbs and energy.  We purchased bags of oats, rice, pasta, peanuts, some dried figs, a bit of chocolate, a sack of chili powder, a sack of black pepper, and our addiction of yerba mate to keep us going.

About to Begin our 10 Day Hike

The trek that would fully widen our eyes to the breathtaking scenery of Patagonia began.  Four days went by, hiking 10 to 15 kilometers per day through rivers, mud bogged trails, over massive boulders, and across mountain saddles.  Our 40 pound rucksacks kept us from elevating, as gusts of glacial wind would hammer our faces and whip right through our clothes with antarctic chills. The terrain and weather conditions were obviously not there to cater  for us, but the trade off was unworldly beauty.

For lunch we would break for a couple mouthfuls of peanuts and dried figs.  At night we would cook a pot of boiled rice and add an abundance of pepper and chili for flavoring.  Wasn’t ultimate tasting, but we were desperate for every crumb of carbs, as we fantasized about piles of beef and cheese, nasi campur, and seafood dampa.

View in Patagonia

The fifth day I was awakened to an atrocious freezer.  The frigidness ripped through our tent and acted as if it didn’t even notice my sleeping bag.  I crawled out in search of something or somewhere more comfortable.  To warm our souls we busted out our trusty Whisperlite camp stove and cooked our humble daily allotment of oats for breakfast.  As we were feistily rubbing our hands together for warmth, three French fellow hikers introduced themselves.  They informed us they were from Paris and reciprocally we told them we were Americans.  They laughingly told us they were opposites of the “camping or hiking types” and that they were only in the park for three days, opposing our ten.  With that in mind, we invited them to hike with us for the day.

The Three Pillars

We arrived back at camp in the evening.  Luke and I were craving our nightly rice and pepper gastronomic specialty.  Our three French friends cheerily invited us to hang out with them tentside as we cooked our meager dinner.  They then gestured to share some of their luxurious hot dogs, cheese, and Swiss chocolate they had carried.

The sodium filled tube steak hot dog had never tasted so ambrosial since the day we ate Del-Wiener-Pan-Dy’s, and the ever so creamy cheese and dark chocolate flabbergasted my insides.  My mouth unexpectedly went into a spasm of ecstasy as I delicately cherished every calorie of processed goodness.

As the last bit of dog was sliding down my throat, one of the French girls blurted out, “isn’t it an American holiday today, called Thanksgiving?”

Luke and I flash glanced at each other and then looked at our French companions.  We had had absolutely no idea it was Thanksgiving and yet we had graciously been fed by generous French people when we needed all forms of fat calories in our diet the most.

Glimpse of Torres Del Paine

If she hadn’t told us it was Thanksgiving we would have never actually known.  Yet we were highly thankful for them sharing, and by coincidence it just happen to be Thanksgiving Day.  Don’t we have so much to be thankful for at all times?  I went to bed grateful, satisfied, and still ridiculously freezing.

Five days prior we had again been thankful for a wonderful experience in which a lady turned meat to meet in Puerto Natales.

Look for my Torres Del Paine series on migrationology to come soon!

-Migration Mark

Other Articles:

• The Peaceful Shores of Volcanic Lake Toba Sumatra
• How To Successfully Drive a Car in Indonesia
• 17 Reasons You Know You Love Southeast Asia
• From Meat to Meet

With great anticipation my travelling companion, Luke, and I arrived in Puerto Natales, the entry town to the famous Torres del Paine National Park in the South of Chile, Patagonia. We planned to get things ready for a ten day trek by spending two days in this town to gather the necessary supplies and get everything organized.

The night before we headed into the park, we toyed with the idea of eating out at an established restaurant (a rather large decision with the budgets we had designated) as opposed to a street vendor. Puerto Natales is jam packed with inviting, fancy, and good looking eateries to entice the hungry backpacker who want a great meal pre or post hike. As we walked around we looked in a few restaurant windows and read a few discouraging menus that seemed overpriced. We came across one restaurant where you could see through a window to the grill piled high with absurd amounts of beef and lamb parts, making us gawk in our steps. We both left reality behind for a moment, even forgetting the cold wind that was whipping at our necks, in order to imagine the joy of chewing the succulent, juicy, red meats. We quite literally would have had to slap ourselves back into the reality that this establishment was obviously much too expensive, when we heard a voice calling.

Thinking the voice was directed at someone else, we turned to walk away. A Chilean woman who had just finished her shift working, approached and yelled to get our attention again. “The food is really good,” she said in Spanish, “you should try it out.” “We would love to, but the prices are a little higher than we can afford,” I said in Spanish. The woman proceeded to invite us (complete strangers off the street, who actually looked like bums, and were probably glossy eyed from staring at the meat) over to her home to have coffee. With no plans for the evening we accepted her offer and were soon in a taxi on our way to her family’s home.

We walked in the house and were greeted with great hospitality by her parents, a pair of her son’s, and a couple of friends that had been visiting. We took off our coats and attempted as best we could to converse with the family. The sons were engaged in high school mathematics homework to which they had a few questions. Straining my mind, I was able to somewhat explain fractional mathematics, a distant memory, and in sub fluent Spanish.

The mother began to set the table and pour hot water into cups for us. We sat at the kitchen table as we drank our coffee and were waited on. Without warning, the mother fried some eggs and brought bread, cheese, tomatoes and ham to the table and we were motioned to start indulging. We were hesitant and did not want to eat all the family’s food, but when we had finished our first portion, we were given more and more till we were completely filled.

After the satisfying meal, we tried our best to answer a few more math questions and explain a little to the family about what we did in our lives. It was getting late and we were set to hike in the morning so we bid our farewells and expressed our gratitude in the best of Spanish that was feasible. “Wait,” the mother said as she handed us each a plastic bag, “here is a lunch for tomorrow.” We thanked them immensely and hugged them all as if we had been long lost friends or relatives, and set back in the icy night towards our hostel.  

Without any attempts, we found ourselves in a real life situation in Puerto Natales, away from the main touristy drag of the town. We were able to converse with new friends and learn new things about their culture and the way they lived. This thoughtful Chilean family opened up to complete strangers and offered a refuge for two stray American hungry wonderers. The family, though they didn’t have a lot, shared what they did have with us. This kind act of graciousness from their hearts is something that will be forever remembered by us. I can only hope that we were able to fully express our thankfulness and that we too would be as kind to people visiting our home country.

As I ate one of the packed sandwiches the next day, I realized that the meal and conversation was a lot more valuable than the piles of meat in the restaurant.