Ghetto Grub: Installment 1

Before we get into our Burger Fight to the Death, I thought I would share one of our other passions: dodgy eateries.  Because the best food can be had at sketchy roadside restaurants simply entitled “Restaurant”.

Westboro, as we all know, has become a homogenous yuppie enclave.  One of the last holdouts is the Richmond Plaza Motel (it even has those awesome plastic bowl chairs in front of each door) and I dread the day when it will be torn down and replaced with a condo complex.  I prefer a neighborhood that has a bit more of an edge, like Hintonburg, just a little ways east.  It has a Bridgehead, so that we can feel virtuous as we sip our fair trade coffee, but it also still has hookers and one-armed dudes manning dodgy pawn shops....and Vino del Mar.  We first noticed this restaurant because it was completely empty on a Saturday night, and it looked like the kind of place where you'd be the victim of a drive-by.  We ended up eating elsewhere, but later on we thought, we must support the ghetto.  If we don't do it, who will?????

The decor is a bit tired and kitschy.  I love it.

As is the menu, with the ribbon threaded through the binding, like in a cheesy 80's wedding invitation.

The faux-brick adds a klassy touch.

But they did take the time to monogram the napkins!

The owner was really friendly; he told us that this is the only Chilean restaurnat in town (which was a surprise to me, as I thought it was a Portuguese restaurant for some reason. Come to think of it, where does one get Portugese food in Ottawa?) and then we had the following exchange:

Owner:  Do you speak Spanish?  You look like you speak Spanish.

Me:  No.

Owner:  Really?  Are you sure you don't speak Spanish?

Me: ...

Jon (later): You should have said, I didn't when I checked this morning....

I've only met two Chilean people in my life, the owner and my former piano teacher (Mrs. Contreras, who was scary) and neither of them looked particularly Asian, but whatever.

Anyhow, on to the food.  We started with an appetizer of sopaipillas ($4.95, traditional Chilean fried squash bread, as per the beribboned menu):

They were actually quite lovely.  Fresh, hot, crispy on the outside, a bit chewy on the inside, with a spicy dipping sauce.  Unfortunately, they would be the highlight of the meal. For the main, Jon had the perchicaga ($14.95), which was basically a bowl full of meat with fries on top:

Jon chopped it all up and mixed in some of the dipping sauce from the sopaipillas, and said it tasted better then, but was resentful at all the work he had to put in.  I had the special ($11.95), which was kebobs, a salad and an empanada.  

I've only had an empanada once, at the Salvadoran restaurant La Cabana on Merivale (recommended, and Vino del Mar's soul sister in sketch).  The owner told me that Chilean empanadas are made from flour, rather than corn.  Everything on the plate was fine, but nothing special.  Overall, the food was hot and fresh and probably authentic (what do I know) but nothing I'd crave or think about when I'm bored.  Nonetheless, I would encourage you all to go.  Without our support, the relentless tide of gentrification will sweep away any character or interest in this neighborhood and Vino del Mar will become a gastropub.  We can't let this happen, guys.  Case in point: just several doors down, we walked by a shop called "Oresta Organic Skin Care Apothecary", and needless to say, once an Organic Skin Care Apothecary moves in, it's over.  Displayed in the window was some skin care line I had never heard of.

Me:  I have a deep distrust of anything unfamiliar.  Like foreigners.

Jon:  Yeah, but Nazis are OK, we know all about them!

On that note, next up will be the first installment of our Burger Quest: Fight to the Death, featuring Vera's Burger Bar and The Works.