Eladio

Almost every big city in the western hemisphere has a place where families go for Sunday afternoon lunch after church. This is a ritual that was part of almost every family’s routine in western culture for the better part of the 20th century.

I can remember going on Sundays to either the Zieder Zee seafood restaurant or the Chinese restaurant on Camp Bowie (whose name I forgot years ago) in the family’s Chevrolet sedan, which was the size of a tank in 1964. Believe it or not, that Chinese restaurant made the best chicken-fried steak in town, and my dad loved that chicken-fried steak, topped with cream-gravy.

That Sunday-afternoon destination in Santiago is Eladio. Shortly after 1 pm the line of cars starts to form, waiting to be ushered into the parking area. There’s usually a short wait for a table since every family in three barrios is at the same restaurant at the same time on Sunday afternoon.

The décor at Eladio won’t win any design awards. It’s clean. It’s basic. It’s family restaurant décor with a bit of an elegant edge, sporting white tablecloths and waiters in black vests moving about the room with confidence.

Everyone orders one of about three plates of food. There’s the shrimp pil-pil or the sliced avocados, tomatoes and palm hearts to start the meal. Then either the steak “a lo pobre” crowned with a fried egg, or the braised short-rib, both accompanied by French fries. My “go-to” meal on Sunday afternoons is usually the German immigrant favorite, the “escalopa Kaiser”, a veal cutlet, stuffed with ham and cheese.

And then for dessert, a traditional apple kuchen (German apple pie) or some fluffy merengue pastry.

That’s what everybody eats … this Sunday, last Sunday, and next Sunday, too.

Eladio isn’t really a restaurant. It’s a tribute to what Chile was before McDonald’s and Pizza Hut came to town. It's the Sunday afternoon place to be.