Couldn’t tell you its name—maybe it didn’t have one—or its exact location if my life depended on it;
then again, there’d be worse ways to die than with visions of this ramshackle little roadside before my eyes. Check out those adobe ovens—front
& you begin to get an inkling of the marvels that were these typically giant empanadas de pino (beef, onion, egg & olives)
& these flat, flaky, charred yet still so soft dobladitas—a Google search for which yields mainly recipes using butter, but as long as I’m at it I’d bet my life yet again that these contained lard—
made all the more marvelous by a squirt of the vinegary hot sauce set at every table. Baguettes & croissants can suck it; Chilean baking’s where it’s at.