When Lilah suggested this arepas place in Williamsburg, I had pause. like, "Isn't Aprepas just a way of saying 'ethnic sandwhich'? Like Paninis for sophisticates?". I was ignorant.
There is some other shit going on at Caracas. For example, the soup (above), which was like a classic potato-leek soup but with cilantro and hunks of smoked mozzella which had the texture of scallop in what then became a hypothectical seafood chowder.
BTW, that squeeze bottle is filled with liquid heaven that I hypothesized must contain mango, scotch bonnets, mayonnaise and heavily addictive narcotics.
My drink involved Ron Antigua and Bay Leaves and spices and the lime/cane sugar dichotomy.
The Arepas were amazing. The cornmeal shells magically held both the weight and pooling juices of ingredients like sweet plantain, fried shredded chicken, braised bar-b-que pork, black beans, avocado, jalapenos, and a blackened fried cheese that was much like Mexican queso fundido- an unholy mass of those bits of cheese that fall out of the grilled cheese onto the pan and become something bad and wonderful.