What happened to María?
Her friends wondered. Her family too. Even the neighbor at the supermarket.
“She’s never been this off the grid,” the neighbor said.
“Whenever she travels, she’s always posting. She never lets go of Instagram.”
“Maybe she’s afraid to take out her phone or something…”
Her mother, a very respectful Italian lady, replied with a calm smile:
“María is so amazed by Colombia, she hasn’t had time for anything else.
She only checks in with us… and that’s it.
She’s never enjoyed a trip this much.”
María walked through the aged streets of La Candelaria, exhausted but with her heart ablaze.
She was thinking about lunch. What should she try?
She’d heard so much about Colombian food…
She thought a few days in Bogotá wouldn’t be enough to truly taste the country.
But after that walking tour, something had shifted.
The city wrapped her in its vibrant energy—
that colombianidad her traveler friends had promised.
One week wasn’t much,
but it was enough to connect.
Sometimes, choosing what to eat in a new country could be stressful.
In other trips, finding something local and good had been a challenge.
But here, in the historic center of the capital—a melting pot of national cuisine—
the options felt endless, authentic, alive.
As she turned the corner by a colonial house—the Botero Museum—
the scent of wood smoke stopped her.
Just like the guide had said:
there it was—the Colombian plains, served over charcoal.
She stepped inside.
It was like leaving behind the cold, damp streets of La Candelaria
and entering the warm eastern plains.
From the entrance, a giant grill crackled with burning logs.
That smoky aroma awakened memories of her grandfather’s farm, of Sunday barbecues.
She knew Argentina was the world champion of meat…
but something told her Colombia deserved a slice of that title too.
With all due respect.
“Welcome,” said the grill master, pointing to a table where she could admire the art of Colombian meat.
“What’s that you’re making?” she asked.
“Mamona,” he replied.
One of the traditional dishes from the plains, just two hours from Bogotá.
The sound of harp music filled the space.
María let herself be carried away.
Her right hand followed the rhythm without thinking,
as if she’d known it all her life.
“I’ll have one,” she said.
And right away, the grill master brought her a heaping plate:
pork ribs, mamona—crispy and glistening between red and brown—salted potatoes, guacamole,
and an orange arepa they called boyacense—another region she tasted in a single bite.
She didn’t think she could eat that much.
But from the first bite, she couldn’t stop.
The smell, the flavor, the texture… everything awakened her appetite.
That pleasure of eating something magnificent while hungry left her satisfied,
ready to continue the adventure that was this city.
Meanwhile, back at the neighborhood supermarket,
the neighbor looked at the photos María’s mother showed her.
“That meat is making me hungry!” she said.
“It looks magnificent, neighbor.”
“Honestly, I had no idea Colombia had such good food.”
“I’m adding it to my list for the next trip.”
Her mother put away the phone with a calm smile.
“María hasn’t posted anything… but she’s never truly lived like this.”
That day, she didn’t disappear.
She simply got lost…
in the flavor of a country that doesn’t need filters.
—
Explore the Bogotá Food Experience here and discover the flavors María found in her journey.
By Fredy Calderón
EN 
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