A Trip on the Plantain Train 

• Alex Springer

I've yet to really dig into the excess and indulgence of Venezuelan street food, but my adoration for the no-holds-barred approach to sandwiches already runs deep. I have yet to meet an arepa or cachapa I didn't like, but I figure it's time to check out the other sandwich and street food innovations that hail from Venezuela. To this end, I was pleased to see that a spot called Zaperoco (785 E. 200 South, Ste. 9, Lehi, 801-331-8695, zaperocofood.net) has been a bastion of Venezuelan food in Utah County since last year

Zaperoco's digs are right in the shopping center across from the Lehi Roller Mills, which is quickly becoming quite a cool spot for local eats. It's neighbors with the Hawaiian hot dog wizards at Porky's Kauai, and it looks like the Jurassic Tacos food truck is planning on opening a brick-and-mortar location in the same stretch of real estate. This bodes particularly well for Utah County foodies—or those simply in town to re-enact Kevin Bacon's "angry dance" from Footloose on location at the Roller Mills.

I think one of Zaperoco's main strengths is its sandwich variety. All the traditional arepas can be found within its menu, but the chief among them is the cabimera ($13). It exemplifies what I've found to be the signature move of Venezuelan cuisine, which is a strong desire to see how much stuff they can fit into an arepa. This one is piled high with shredded beef, shredded chicken, ham, cheese and hard-boiled eggs. It's slathered in the Zaperoco house sauce, which is a creamy, herbaceous condiment that really ties the dish together. If you happen to be craving a top-notch arepa and haven't had breakfast, this monster is an absolute thrill to dive into. I'll never discourage someone from trying to pick up such an overstuffed arepa and eat it with their hands, but you may want to snag a fork and knife for this one.

Those after something ever-so-slightly smaller than an arepa will dig Zaperoco's tapitas. There are shredded chicken ($5) and beef ($5) varieties, or you can get a mixed tapita ($5) that includes a bit of both, along with a slice of ham. The tapitas maintain the basic genetic makeup of the arepa, but their filling-to-arepa ratio is a bit more balanced. This one you can eat like a sandwich without all those meat juices running down your forearm—most of the time, anyway.

My primary objective at Zaperoco was to cross the patacon off my sandwich bucket list. For those who are hearing this term for the first time, a patacon takes the popular arepa fillings and smushes them between two plantains that have been flattened and fried to chewy perfection. The existence of plantains in Venezuelan food is one of the things that keeps me coming back; I love these starchy, slightly sweet fruits. Any culture canny enough to swap them in for bread in a sandwich is truly inspired, and so is the patacon at Zaperoco.

Let's first talk about the use of plantains here. For the most part, the bread part of a sandwich exists only to keep the filling from gooshing out all over the place, and it's rare to see the bread impart any flavor other than bread to the whole deal. When it does, it tends to overwhelm the innards with too much sweet or too many herbs. When you use fried plantains, however, you're getting superior structural support, because fried plantains don't disintegrate when soaked with a high volume of sandwich fillings. You're also getting a very natural, subtle sweetness that works perfectly with the shredded meats and melted cheeses inside.

For the best example of Zaperoco's patacon, you must check out the patacon mixto ($13), which comes with all the shredded meats at the restaurant's disposal, along with a slice of grilled ham. If you're feeling brave, you can pick this sucker up and eat it with your hands, but it's best to take the cabimera approach and tackle this with some utensils.

In addition to monstruous sandwiches that balance flavors and textures remarkably well, Zaperoco has plenty of smaller snacks on the menu. Various empanadas stuffed with shredded chicken, beef, or potato are all available—and all under three bucks. Then you've got the cheesy stuffed tequeños ($1.50) that make an excellent complement to any meal, especially when you dip them in some of that herby house sauce.

Zaperoco is an excellent entry into Utah's Venezuelan food scene, and its current location is adding some much-needed culinary diversity to Lehi's Main Street area. I'm willing to help spread the gospel of Venezuelan cuisine to the far corners of the Wasatch Front, so having a spot that serves up some of these classics a bit further south will only aid in the cause. I'd also encourage anyone who fancies themselves a fan of sandwiches to hit this place up. The creativity, flavor combos and overall spectacle that Zaperoco instills into its menu will make you rethink anything you've ever placed between sliced bread.