Last night after a somewhat stressful return to work, Seth and I journeyed to La Zona T for a comforting meal of burgers and beer. Since our budget was limited, we chose a small express joint that sold American hamburgers and hamburguesas Colombianas on the cheap. Wary of the quality of American-style quarter pounders in this country, we decided to try something new.
We quickly learned that a Colombian hamburger consists of the following: a beef patty, melted queso fresco, grilled onions, and salsa. Rather than enveloping the greasy goodness in a bun, everything is placed inside two even greasier patacones (crunchy, twice-fried green plantains). Much like a chipotle burrito, the juices of the burger seeped through its paper wrapper, onto my hands, and all over my plate. I was not a fan.
After our messy dinner, we walked around the neighborhood and eventually found shelter in London Calling, a British pub at the vertex of La Zona T. The bar offered authentic music—The Clash, The Who, and Queen, just to name a few—and inauthentic beer. (Ah, light beer—something the Colombians and the Czechs have in common!) Despite its shortcomings, we had a great time talking, people-watching, and enjoying the weather.
[photo courtesy of El Nuevo Herald]