I was unimpressed with the potato pancake-type thing that accompanied my meal.

Was it the arepa? Or something else? It doesn't do much for me, either, but the kids could make a meal out of that alone.

Mike G wrote:Is that the green salsa (which was set on the table when we arrived?) Or yet another?

And what do you use the various ones for? I mean, I know what I use the green salsa for (smear on the chicken and the potato and yucca), but what's the official Colombian use of it?

It's not like I've been to Bogata or anything, but my understanding is the aji is the more "right" sauce, and the chimichurri is there for people who what something less spicy. I use the salsa de aji on everything, and that's what I see most of the other patrons do as well. Yea, it's the muddy greenish looking sauce that gets put on your table soon after you sit down.

But they're so different, I don't see them as being two points on the same scale-- mild and hot. Chimmichurri is just right with beef, it's the kinds of things that really accent beef well. (Chicken to a lesser extent, though I more often put the aji on that.) Aji works with something bland to begin with. To me, anyway. It's not like either one is a wrong answer.

There was no way the springing up of this thread would keep me away from Brasa Rosa. Compulsion fer sure.

Brasa Rosa remains one of my favorite places to eat in Chicago, and I gosh darn wish it was closer. Not only do I enjoy the food, but it is an ideal place for en famile, especially the darling chowhounditas who were made for the matrimonio: steak for one, thin chicken breast for the other. And we all gorge away on the excess carbs: dry yucca sticks, potato somewhere between roasted and boiled, rice, pudding like plaintains.

As so often, the whole chickens were not ready when we ordered. A lo sieto they said at seis. Then, wonderously, a stash of chickens arrived with Mr. Brasa Roja/El Llano, cooked who knows where. Our waitress wondered, indeed scoffed when we asked for un pollo after polishing off empanadas de pollo, arepas con queso, costillas de res (grilled short ribs) and the matrimonio. We persisted. Then ate nearly all the chicken as well as the sides that arrived with that entree.

The stuff here is so flavorsome and succulent for the money. Sure there are prime steaks, bluefoot chickens, softer short ribs. Yet, who else coaxes so much from their humbler ingredients. I know the efforts include lots of real charcoal, a heavy hand with salt and a marinade or two, and surely that aji, the sauce of sauces, but some secret must remain. Brasa Rosa is a wonderful place!

I was glad to discover that there is a Brasa Roja thread, but surprised that no one has posted in quite a while.

I arrived at 2pm today and had to wait for a table. Once seated, I ordered the steak and chicken combo, a massive (did someone say Flinstonian) platter of food. Perfectly grilled steak, moist and flavorful chicken breast, served with plantains, pototoe, and yucca. The chimichurri sauce accented the meat perfectly. The only thing missing was a nice glass of wine.

Brasa Roja
3125 W. Montrose
Chicago, IL
773.866.2252

For the first time in my 4 years of dining at Brasa Roja, I actually saw a row of rabbits spinning on the rotisserie. They've had rotisserie rabbit on the menu forever, but I always wondered when it was cooked, and whether they actually used the rotisserie at all for it. They do.

Inspired by this discovery, I shortened my walk (was on my way to Salam) and stopped for dinner. I believe this was the first time I've ever tried rotisserie rabbit, and I really liked it. I guess one could call it dry, but dry in a way that creates a pleasant chewiness. No juice running out of the flesh, but damned tasty charcoal smoke and definite rabbit flavor. Simple, tasty food. While picking up bones and chewing away every possible bit of flesh, my mind started drifting. I had been transported to Paleolithic times, deep in the woods thousands of years ago. I'd just speared a wild rabbit, gathered some firewood and rubbed a couple of sticks together to create a spark, skewered el conejo, and held him in the fire for 20 minutes before ripping into him.

Then I went back to my cave and watched Top Chef.