My new favorite doughnut

Donuts are glorious treats, a cross-cultural ambassador of cuisine, if you will. Most cultures have some kind of sweet, fried dough, ranging from Taiwanese yo-tiao to Greek loukoumades to French beignets. If I could only have one kind of donut, it would absolutely be a maple bar. Soft and pillowy dough topped with a perfect maple frosting... simplicity in its best expression, and the king of donuts for me. Until now. More on that in a moment.

Earlier, I denigrated airplane food. I'm going to go in the opposite direction and share a surprisingly good meal I had at the airport in Puerto Natales. Keep in mind that this is a tiny airport. Like three gates, one restaurant. It's called "Restaurant." My hopes weren't high, but I wanted to use their wi-fi connection and power outlet, and we had 2 hours to kill before our flight to Puerto Montt, so we ordered some food. I went for the brochette of beef, which turned out to be some kabobs of really nicely grilled beef, hot dog (!!), onion and bell pepper. Again, the meat wasn't seasoned at all, but the quality of the beef came through. Seared nicely, tender, juicy, flavorful... way better than I was expecting.

We ended up that afternoon in Puerto Varas, where I had my first transformative food moment of the trip. We asked the folks at our hostel to point us to a good panaderia, and they sent us to Cafe Dane, a bakery and restaurant a block from the town square. They're rumored to have the best empanadas in town, but I was craving a sweet snack. Though she spoke no English, the proprietor kindly and patiently pointed us to a small shelf of buns, explaining that they were fried, and each one had a different filling. Hey, a donut... they called them Berlins! Crema (sounded good), marmalade (I was afraid it would be too sweet), and dulce de leche... bingo, I'll take the third one.

One bite of the pastry and I was in a different place... the kind of feeling you get when you stop caring about what's happening around you and you stop in your tracks and just stare at the thing you're eating, chewing slowly to extract every moment of the pleasure of flavor enveloping your senses. The dough was luxuriously soft, with only a deliciously faint hint of sweetness. Inside, the filling was straight up dulce de leche with walnuts... but not at all overly sweet. Instead, the rich flavor and texture of caramel was the most prominent. Basic flavors, but fashioned carefully to avoid what could otherwise be an overpowering amount of sweetness. The best "doughnut" I've ever had. I was still thinking about it when I woke up the next morning.

That evening, we had dinner at Las Buenas Brasas, a cozy little restaurant tucked away in one of the side streets in town. The meal started with a killer bowl of sopapillas (deep fried quick breads) that were both crispy and chewy (a bit reminiscent of the bhatura cholla at Vik's, but way smaller and slightly more dense). Next was an outstanding ceviche of shrimp, conger eel and salmon --remarkably fresh and seasoned simply to let the flavor of the seafood hold the spotlight. One of the best things we've eaten in Chile so far.

We also had salmon a la plancha and a chupe with fresh king crab, both of which were fine, but paled in comparison to the ceviche.

I feel like there's so much to eat, but so little time...

The last hope... or is it?

I'm getting jostled left and right like I'm on an old-fashioned wooden roller coaster. While not quite as intense as yesterday's drive (where I'm sure I lost some brain cells), most of this ride over the unpaved roads is a rhythmic mix of myriad bumps and jarring lurches, shaking the sense out of me. And though I'm exhausted from the day before, this is keeping me from getting some needed sleep.

But I couldn't be happier. We're on our way to Torres Del Paines, and in front of me in every direction is probably the most beautifully dramatic, breathtaking and awe-inspiring place I've ever seen.

Chilean food sometimes gets a bad rap, and I suppose sometimes there is a certain lack of technique... but so far the quality of the ingredients have generally kept us happy. We stopped at a restaurant in the middle of the national park, Parrilla Pehoe, for a light lunch. The retaurant has a spectacular, unobstructed view of the mountains and serves simple, but good food.

Seeing the roaring wood-fired grill, we opted to share a steak, our first venture into the wonderful world of Chilean beef. The steak was perfectly cooked medium-rare with that fantastic wood-smoked aroma and was absolutely flavorful and juicy. I'm not sure if it was just in my mind, but the beef had a more intense flavor while at the same time tasting cleaner. I don't know if that makes sense... the fats and juices from the meat didn't seem to linger on the palate as heavily or for as long. It also didn't seem, though, that they had seasoned the meat at all prior to placing it on the grill. Just a simple step that would have made it a really outstanding steak. As it was, the pure quality of the beef still made it a nice lunch.

That night, we experienced more cooking with great ingredients in need of just a few minor tweaks in cooking style. The restaurant, La Última Esperanza ("the last hope," named after the province containing Puerto Natales and Torres del Paine) has been around for a long time and came highly recommended by our guide books as well as by John, our terrific guide for the day. I tried congria (conger eel), a popular fish in Chile -- fresh, moist and meaty, but overwhelmed by a cream-based sauce. Lav's lamb had great flavor, but certain cuts on her plate would have been better slow-braised; grilling made the meat tough.

While we were disappointed in the meal, in the end I'm still excited by the fact that even in a small town in the off-season, there is a lot of care placed on the quality and freshness of the ingredients.

Sweets and pizza

I'm getting the feeling that South Americans like their dessert treats sweet and decadent, much sweeter than I'm used to. The Coca Cola is sweeter here, the orange juice tastes like sweetener has been added and chocolate shops seem to pop up everywhere.

Bakeries are one of my favorite ways to get to know local food, and we had a chance to visit our first panaderia in El Calafate (Argentina), which had a small assortment of pastries and empanadas. One of the cookies we bought was a real treat -- a light butter cookie sandwich with a filling of rich caramel and coconut. The cookie was only about the size of a quarter, but packed an unbelievable amount of sweetness in the pliable chewy center.

We also tried some home-spun ice cream from Acuarela Heladeria -- cherry mascarpone and a creamy milk caramel. Luxurious, velvety and rich, this was actually some fantastic ice cream... if it were only just a bit less sweet.

We returned to Puerto Natales after an incredible trip to Perito Moreno at an awkward time to find dinner: 10 pm on a Sunday night during the off-season in a small town where most locals eat at home rather than in restaurants. This probably wasn't the best time to go looking for fresh seafood. With a light rain beginning to fall and a brisk wind cutting into us, we sought refuge in the warm confines of Mesita Grande, one of the local pizzerias. Ok, before I get blasted for having pizza in South America, our friend Jim from the day trip said that everyone in Patagonia loves pizza, locals and tourists alike. Some of the most popular dining spots are simple pizza joints that churn out hot, substantial food at low prices; makes sense.

Mesita Grande was an unexpected surprise. As we walked in, I saw a wood-burning brick pizza oven behind the bar glowing with red hot embers, raising my expectations immediately. We ordered a fantastic neapolitan style pizza with a simple tomato sauce, mozzarella, spinach, garlic, mushrooms, and a cracked egg on top, followed by an order of lasagne baked in a clay dish... The pizza was nice chewy, with just a thin veneer of smoky crispness, and the lasagne was piping hot and rich, the texture benefitting from house-made pasta sheets.

Not a bad way to recharge after a 17-hour day...