El Paisa Empanadas

By JOSH NIVA
Anchorage Daily News

Published: October 6th, 2005 10:15 PM
Last Modified: April 9th, 2010 03:27 PM

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Evan R. Steinhauser / Photo by EVAN R. STEINHAUSER / Anchorage Daily News

Juan Tabares, owner, chef, and bus driver of El Paisa Empanadas displays a plate of Chicken Enchiladas with rice, beans, and sour cream, left, and a plate of Empanadas with salsa.

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At El Paisa Empanadas, the customer is in the driver's seat. Literally.

Not only will owner-chef- driver Juan Tabares make your meal to order, he might even let you sit in the driver's seat of his big, white Food Wagon while you wait. That's where a friend and I found ourselves during a recent lunch break. Well, my friend was in the driver's seat; as a first-time customer, I was offered the fold-down passenger seat.

Though it was entertaining chatting with Tabares as he prepped lunches in the bus's aft, the genuine novelty of El Paisa isn't the van or Tabares' one-man show on the road -- it's his menu of authentic Colombian choices and Mexican standards.

My friend is an El Paisa regular, and he raved for months about the empanadas and the man who made them. So one evening, I drove south on Old Seward to try to find El Paisa. It wasn't there.

A few days later, I picked up my friend and tried again. And there was El Paisa, in the parking lot of Al's Alaskan Inn, where it spends its weekday afternoons. I later learned that on evenings and weekends, Tabares scours town in the van, catering events and making random feeding stops.

The menu board outside the van is brief but daring. There are just 10 main items, spanning recognizable favorites such as burritos, enchiladas, chimichangas and quesadillas to unfamiliar items such as empanadas, chicharrones and plantains. Most are available as meals or sides -- disregard the steak sandwich, which is no longer available.

As we checked the menu, Tabares peeked out from his kitchen, through the van's doorway. He said "hi" to my friend over the buzz of a generator, pointed out the specials on the back of the menu, then handled two customers in front of us. At our turn, we ordered two empanadas ($1.50 each), along with lunch entrees -- my friend went with the carne asada tacos meal ($8), and I boldly chose the chicharron dinner ($8), knowing only that pork was somehow involved.

After Tabares dispatched the other clientele with bagged lunches, he invited us to have a seat in his van while he cooked. Being that there were no tables, benches or chairs around, we happily accepted. I looked back and saw that his kitchen was impeccably clean, despite the lunchtime scramble.

Within seconds of sitting, he handed us three empanadas, one more than we ordered -- there was a communication breakdown somewhere. We didn't make a fuss, and I'm glad we kept the extra because the empanadas were awesome. This little fried pastry pocket had a crispy cornmeal crust enveloping a warm and tasty paste of ground meat, potatoes, tomatoes, onions and spices. With Tabares' fresh salsa on the side (blended so thick you can dish it with a fork), this was the perfect appetizer, though I could easily see ordering three or four and making a meal of empanadas. I'm not the only one who feels this way -- Tabares said he once sold 150 empanadas in a day.

Tabares was pleased we enjoyed ours. He's a friendly guy who takes almost as much joy in talking with customers as he does turning them on to Latin cuisine, especially that of his birth country, Colombia. He asked us if we preferred beans or rice and inquired if I knew what I was getting into with the chicharron. I said I had no clue, and he smiled. He then suggested we call our orders in next time, giving him a chance to stay ahead of the noon rush and allowing us to save time.

We didn't mind the conversation or the wait. After a few minutes, our orders were bagged and ready to go. Not feeling like eating in the van or my truck, we drove to a nearby park and found a table.

I opened my chicharron meal and found a foot-long ring of inch-thick bacon, fried golden brown, resting on two fried green plantains and a bed of white rice -- two scoops of thick, cheesy refried beans sat on the side. Interesting. Not surprisingly, the chicharoon was delicious but incredibly rich, fatty and greasy. Each bite started crunchy, like a pork rind, but ended up chewy. I knew this wasn't good for me. I have an adventurous palette, but chicharrones were a traditional Latin taste this gringo hadn't acquired.

The mild green plantains didn't save me. I was hoping for the sweet banana flavor of a ripened fruit but should have known better when I read that it was served green. So I used beans and salsa to temper the fried intensity of the dish and begged for one of my friend's carne asada tacos.

The steak tacos were small but filling. Tabares managed a model mix of tastes and textures, topping two soft white tortillas with shredded cheese and fresh lettuce that hid salsa, sour cream and saucy steak chunks. The flavor was recognizable, and the hot-cold sensation was in full effect. This was Latin cooking I could handle and provided a pleasant end to an otherwise heavy meal.

I stayed in my comfort zone on the next visit to El Paisa and also took Tabares' advice and called ahead. I ordered a steak burrito ($6) and a chicken chimichanga (a steal at $3). I arrived 15 minutes later, and my meal was already bagged up.

Tabares asked me inside his van while he got my change, and we talked about my chicharron experience. He said it was one of his favorite dishes as a child and added that it's served differently across South America. He offered to add a tomato sauce for me next time.

I returned to work and opened my Styrofoam packages to find two warm, foil-wrapped goodies.

The burrito was the size, shape and weight of a brick. At first bite, I loved it. Every mouthful featured little chunks of steak mingling with cheese, beans, rice, sour cream and even a few crunchy onions. This is what burritos are all about. My only disappointment was the lack of sides at $6, but I'm greedy -- the burrito was certainly worthy of its price.

The chimichanga wasn't as immense as the burrito, but it was equally impressive. A thick, crunchy fried shell held together a filling of chicken, gooey cheese and spices and carried a nice zing. This gem was only heightened when I dipped into the sides of sour cream, shredded lettuce and salsa. Few things make me happier than a great meal, and when I finished this combo, I was certifiably stoked.

Tabares later told me nothing makes him happier than when he looks out his van and sees the face of a return customer. He said he's beginning to see quite a few of those lately, and he can add my mug to the list because I'll be back.

Hopefully, he'll save the driver's seat for me.

EL PAISA EMPANADAS is at 7380 Old Seward Highway in the parking lot of Al's Alaskan Inn. Hours: 11 a.m.-5:30 p.m. Monday-Friday. El Paisa Empanadas caters events on weekends. Call 440-0308.

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