FLOOD | Page 34

On our last day, we go to Emporio y Restaurant Melí in Frutillar, a small town on Lake Llanquihue in the southern reaches of the country. Albisu eagerly joins executive chef Claudio Ávila to help him prepare a lavish lunch featuring a multitude of Chilean ingredients, many gussied up with the house-made condiments, like mustard laced with blueberrylike maqui berries and a smoky, spicy merquén sauce. When the meal is ready, we all gather at a communal table aglow with the rays shining through the skylight above us. Albisu thanks our hosts, we all toast, and we dig in. Biting through the fryer-kissed exterior of a quenelleshaped papas rellanas to reveal the stewed beef and smooth whipped potato inside, I’m reminded of Neruda’s “Ode to French Fries,” in which he references the spuds’ conveyance of “the delicious simplicity of the soil.” And then the poetry fades into the background as I take another bite. 32 FLOOD