Santiago by Belinda Jackson

She hadn’t been to South American for a few years, which was obvious when we finally touched down. The shoes were terrible, not a stiletto to be seen. And the men? Not so good if you’re at the upper end of the scale, as my six-foot-something travelling companion discovered as she surveyed the bustling downtown malls mournfully from on high.

But, contrary to the dictums issued by a litany of TV programs aimed at single thirtysomething women, there’s more to life than shoes and men. Like food, of course.

Our first day in the country marked the beginning of a love affair with the humble empanada, a fist-sized baked or fried pastry you can grab off the street, in delicatessens or sit down to devour in any number of cafes for a few paltry pesetas. Stuffed with meat, cheese or seafood and usually served with pebre, a spicy sauce of garlic, tomato, vinegar and fresh chilli, it’s the food that fuels a nation.

The fried pastry first kissed our welcoming lips in downtown Santiago, at the touristy central markets in Estacion Mapocho. The empanadita (a baby empanada) was filled with melted gouda cheese. This is not diet food. It would go so well with a cold beer.

Really, the empanadita is the equivalent of the Milky Way chocolate – a quick treat between meals that won’t ruin your appetite. You’ll need the sustenance if you’re hanging with the Santiago set. If you plan to eat dinner at 7pm, plan to be in the restaurant on your own. Over the last 20 years, Chileans have begun to eat late and party even later, like their Argentine cousins. To survive, nap at 4pm, snack at 6pm (enter the empanada) and take dinner at 10pm or even later on the weekends. Of course, then you be dancing till 4am, but that’s optional.

We took our cues from a local, Jorge, who met us for a wee 6pm snackie at the hipper-than-thou Bar Liguria, in Santiago’s chic suburb of Providencia. This is the ‘hood for the best restaurants and galleries, while the kids pile down to frenetic Bellevista for the salsa bars, outdoor cafes and clubs. Bar Liguria is the place to be seen. It’s the haunt of media types and cemented its status as a celeb haunt when Chile’s tennis star Marcelo Rios was arrested there in a little scuffle with the paparazzi back in 2003.

Keen to show us Chile’s table, Jorge ordered a round of pisco sours, the tart national drink made with distilled grape juice, lime juice and sugar. “Aren’t we being typical tourists by drinking these?” we asked, peering over the lip of our glasses. Then we looked around, and all about us were Chileans firmly gripping the omnipresent sawn-off champagne glass filled with the bright yellow, refreshing lemony drink. It was the beginning of another love affair, at $5 a glass, that was to last the rest of our stay in Chile.

After lots of waving and yelling with the waiter, our table started to fill. Little plates of grilled provoleta cheese. Fried scallops served on their shells. Empanadas. Slices of fresh goat’s and sheep’s cheese. Plates of silvery bocarones (white anchovies) drizzled with olive oil. Fresh oysters, clams and mussels.

And the piece de resistance? Erizos - raw sea urchins served in a bowl with thick slices of fresh bread. Ok, so this one threw us. The sea urchins resembled great lumps of orange roe, like you see on a scallop. Jorge took the bowl lovingly, added oil, salt, parsley and raw onion, gently stirred it then speared a chunk, dropped it onto the bread, which sucked up all the oil, and threw it back in his mouth. I’m the first to admit: it wasn’t pretty.

“It’s an acquired taste,” he said, looking at our faces, hidden behind our drinks.

Well, there’s only one way to acquire a taste, and that is to eat. Protein hit, here I come. If the idea of oysters in your mouth makes you squeamish, don’t order erizos. It had that same raw, snotty trickling-down-the-throat sensation as the briny taste of the sea mixed with the oil and condiments. It was sensational.

Wandering down to the neighbouring suburb of pulsating Bellavista later that night, food was still on our minds – and still on the mind of a nation. Everywhere we looked, people were mainlining manjar, the sticky, super-sweet condensed milk caramel beloved of the region and drinking tea. They’re only just coming round to coffee, and even then only by opening cafes staffed by mini-skirted waitresses (who allegedly strip as the nights get later and the cafes seedier).

Patio Bellavista, a hub of outdoor cafes, sweets and craft shops, was on fire. We cruised wine lists featuring the classics of shiraz and viognier, but also carminere, sauvignon gris and ensamblaje and sipped vaina – a divine, spicy nightcap of port, vanilla, cognac, egg yolk and cocoa. At midnight, when the jet lag started to pull us down, the jazz trios and salsa bands were just starting to tune up, Chileans were patting full tummies and cruising the dessert menus as Friday night stretched out into Saturday morning and the city showed no sign of slowing down.

Hot spots: La Liguria is in Avenida Providencia 1373, Providencia. The Mercado Central (central markets) in Estacion Mapocho are open every day from 6am till about 4pm. For gorgeous handmade biscuits, visit Elisabel Naturalments’ shop in Patio Bellavista, which is also home to plenty of cafes and artisan shops selling handmade jewellery, lapis lazuli and unusual tea blends. Patio Bellavista is between Pio Nono and Constitution, Bellavista.