08/9/2010 El Especialito

Sabor Regional Venezolano
en el Alto Manhattan
con Cachapas Y Mas


Please click on the image on the left to read the article. Article is in Spanish.


07/22/2009 New York Times

Tracking a Venezuelan Treat
By DAVE COOK

FOR plantain lovers, it may be the best thing since sliced bread. In fact, a patacón (paht-ah-CONE) — the full name, patacón Maracucho, identifies its birthplace as the Venezuelan city of Maracaibo — is a sandwich that dispenses with bread entirely. In its place is green (that is, unripe) plantain that’s been sliced lengthwise, fried, pressed flat and fried again. Still warm, the golden discs embrace shredded beef, roast pork, chorizo, chicken or cheese.

That affection is shared by the Dominican clubgoers who know the truck as Patacon Pisao, or “flattened plantain” (a name it shares with a catchy merengue song). When the truck window opens for the evening around 7 (it closes around 6 a.m.), a small crowd is often on the sidewalk, maneuvering forward to place orders with the manager. One of the most popular requests is the “full” patacón ($5), a combo of chopped griddled beef, pork and chicken, typically dressed with lettuce, tomato and a piquant pink sauce. Preparing the sandwich might take 15 minutes; many folks tide themselves over with a tequeño ($1), white cheese deep fried in pastry dough.

When the patacón is finally handed down, it’s wrapped in foil, which serves more than one purpose: fried plantain is not very absorbent, and every bite threatens to send sauce squirting out. Peeling back the foil little by little helps keep the patacón hot (and those dancing shoes unsullied). The starchy plantain and savory meats are an especially satisfying pair on a cool evening.

Even so, the patacón Maracucho gets many curious looks, said Larry Villalobos, owner of the nearby Cachapas y Mas (107B Dyckman Street, between Nagle and Post Avenues, 212-304-2224, cachapasymasnyc.com), a narrow storefront with two high-backed booths, a window-side counter and a flat-screen TV that favors music and sports. Mr. Villalobos said that in most of Latin America, patacón refers to an individual flattened disc of plantain, perhaps topped with guacamole or cheese, or a small twice-fried round, collectively also called tostones (tohs-TOE-nays).

But just as in Maracaibo, in Upper Manhattan the plantain is also the armature for sandwiches like the patacón de pernil ($4.50), loaded with luscious roast pork and adorned with the house-made pink sauce — white dressing with parsley, cilantro, onion, garlic and celery, inflamed with bright red hot sauce. The doble queso patacón ($4.50) is layered with fried slabs of fresh mozzarella; unfried, the cheese is even better tucked into the cachapa de queso ($6), a floppy half-moon pancake of sweet golden corn.

Mr. Villalobos also owns a truck, parked by night near the Metro-North Tremont station, called Patacon con Too (4184 Park Avenue, at East Tremont Avenue, the Bronx, 718-362-0705). “Too” is pronounced “toe,” reflecting the Dominican pronunciation of “todo” (“everything”), as in, “give me a patacón with everything on it.” The mozzarella is found in a version with ham and cheese ($5), but the star of the menu is the patacón Dominicano ($5), which swaps out the ham for silver dollars of fatty salami.

For a patacón Maracucho in a full-service setting — perhaps with a glass of beer, wine or sangria, before lolling against a banquette while listening to gentle Latin tunes — to the best of my knowledge the city’s sole option is El Cocotero (228 West 18th Street, at Seventh Avenue, 212-206-8930, cocotero-restaurant.com). A kitchen that turns out full-blown entrees also shows its hand in patacón fillings like asado negro ($8.95), pot roast in a sweet onion-and-red-wine sauce, and carne mechada ($8.95), stewed shredded flank steak. They’re moister than their uptown counterparts — enough, on occasion, to challenge the firmness of the “crispy green plantain crostini,” as the restaurant describes them. Thankfully, even here, they arrive in a protective wrap.

Of course there are arepas, the familiar corn patties, in many styles. But El Cocotero also offers a baked-goods alternative to the patacón: carne mechada, ham and cheese, and a half-dozen other combinations that can be ordered between bread, in a pressed sandwich. Though served with a salad, a side of plantains is never far away.

03/26/2009 Manhattan Times News

From food truck to dining destination, Cachapas Y Mas is a trip
Story and photos by Landa M. Towns

Driving or strolling along Dyckman Street, a hungry traveler has dozens of options to fulfill any appetite: pizza, rice and beans, mangu, sushi, deli sandwiches, and now Cachapas Y Mas. The colorful storefront near Nagle Avenue offers up typical Venezuelan cuisine – the first in the neighborhood.

Larry Villalobos opened Cachapas Y Mas at 107 Dyckman Street in mid-December after owning a successful food truck on W. 202nd Street and 10th Avenue for three years.

The new location on Dyckman has proven successful for the entrepreneur, who serves up cachapas, arepas, patacones, and a plethora of other Venezuelan treats.

A cachapa is best described as a stuffed corn pancake. It is made of fresh ground corn mixed with egg and flour and cooked on a griddle until its yellow color is golden brown and it rises to a light and fluffy texture. While the “maza” or mixture is grilling, the cook also grills up the contents of the cachapa usually ham and fresh mozzarella cheese. The ingredients are layered carefully inside the large corn cake and then topped with lettuce, and a special Venezuelan cultured cream known as nata.

Cachapas can be filled with just about anything. Villalobos offers cheese, shredded beef, fried pork, chicken, mixed meat and roast pork. The cachapa was definitely a treat. The freshness of the maza is evident as soon as you bite into it. The sweetness and moisture of the corn in the maza proves its freshness, and the saltiness of the ham and the stringy goodness of the mozzarella make a great combination. But don’t confuse this corny treat with the arepa, its crispier cousin.

Made from white corn flour, the maza for this Venezuelan staple, which is traditionally baked, is cooked in a deep fryer until it is light, golden brown with a crispy texture on the outside and soft center. It’s then removed from the fryer, sliced open like a bun, and filled with a number of possibilities, just like everything else on the menu. I loved the arepa with carne asada. Biting into the crispy corny outer shell was almost like biting into a thick corn tortilla. The deliciously seasoned sliced beef was a great marriage to the fried cheese, lettuce, mayonnaise and ketchup.

Cachapas Y Mas offers many options for customers seeking culinary adventure. Try the hamburguesa maracucha a specialty hamburger from the Maracaibo region in Venezuela where the locals add ham, spiced salami, diced fried onions, bacon and American cheese. One can also experiment with a Tacucho an invention of Villalobos’. It’s the Venezuelan version of a burrito, with American cheese instead of Mexican cheese, minus the refried beans, and filled with the meat of your choice.

Another dish with some bite, the cazon empanadas can be considered a delicacy. They are empanadas made of corn filled with baby shark, which according to Villalobos is a favorite among many locals. Since opening, Villalobos has expanded his business from five employees to thirteen, and serves more than half a dozens more dishes than when he was in the truck.

The food is also fresher, because all cooking is done on the premises, and there is an open kitchen so customers can watch their food made to order. Whether you’re looking to experiment with something new or as a little reminder of home, Cachapas Y Mas is a good place to stop.