When I decided to study abroad in Chile, I knew I’d see some stunning landscapes—Andes mountains, coastal views, colorful hillsides in Valparaíso—but what I didn’t expect was to fall head over heels for something much simpler: the food.
Well… not just the food. The presentation.
From casual bites to cocktails on rooftops, Chile surprised me at every turn with how seriously it takes making meals beautiful. Here’s a little taste of the culinary adventure I didn’t know I needed.
Okay, I’ll admit it—I still need my creature comforts when I travel. My first morning in Santiago, I stopped by Dunkin’ for a quick iced coffee. What I got was something that felt… elevated. The cup was sleek, the ice was perfect, and everything just felt cleaner, brighter. Then came Starbucks: my iced white mocha shaken espresso was perfect, almost like a barista competition entry, and don’t even get me started on the raspberry croissant in America, the croissants come in two flavors, but in Santiago there were so many options and all of them had beautiful presentation.
It was the first time I realized—Chile doesn’t just serve food and drink. It curates it.
At a small bistro in Valperasio, I ordered salmon tartar on a whim. What arrived at my table was basically edible art: a cube of diced of pink, citrus-cured salmon sitting atop creamy avocado, garnished with some chips and a balsamic streak. The plate was so pretty, I actually hesitated before digging in. The waiter just smiled and said, “Aquí, comemos con los ojos primero.” Here, we eat with our eyes first. And he was right. Even the more casual dishes were next-level. The burger I had at a trendy spot downtown came on a minimalist black granite plate, stacked high with arugula and bacon, and had a little swirl of barbecue sauce topped with sesame seeds beside it. Even something as simple as my grilled chicken was served on a ceramic dish with a streak of balsamic and a little garnish of lettuce and shredded carrots. Finally, the sushi was arranged on a beautiful, unique plate with shredded vegetables on top. It was all beautiful.
Drinks in Chile aren’t just mixed, they’re designed. My pisco sour, a Chilean staple, came with that perfect foamy top, decorated with bitters in three little dots. The piña colada I had by the beach in Easter Island? Served in a beautiful glass with a real pineapple leaf. My Aperol spritz gleamed like stained glass in the sun, poured into a massive wine glass with an orange slice perched on the rim. And that cosmopolitan? A sleek martini glass with a candied orange perched on top.
The more I ate and explored, the more I realized: this wasn’t just about restaurants trying to impress. In Chile, food presentation is deeply cultural. It’s about hospitality, pride, and care. Whether it’s a home-cooked empanada or a high-end seafood dish, there’s intention behind how it’s served.