If there’s one thing anyone (including any creepers stalking me over the Internet) should know it’s that I love condiments. I add ketchup to soup; I’ll dip my carrots in peanut butter; I’ll eat a sandwich composed solely of bread and mayonnaise; and I’ll throw salsa on just about anything — fish, eggs, beans, my pants.

But as much as I like condiments, I usually enjoy them separately. That is, save for the standard mustard and ketchup mash-up I like to slop on hamburgers, nary a condiment shall meet in my mouth. For instance, I wouldn’t dare eat a mustard’n’mayo sandwich. Even the mere thought of that grosses me out. (Which is probably how you felt when I revealed that I occasionally eat mayonnaise-only sandwiches…)

Anyway, what I’m getting at here is that when I first heard of Chile’s most famous fast food (or maybe second if you count the glorious empanada), the “completa,” I wanted to puke. I’ll let Anthony Bourdain explain…

“Holy crap. That sounds like the gnarliest menu item on the face of the Earth,” I thought. “Where am I?”

To be honest, I didn’t do much research on Chile before I left, which is probably why I get laughed at in public, so I simply expected the delicious rotisserie chicken and fried plantains of Peru to inhabit every corner of its southern neighbor. But no! Instead I’m faced with a soggy wiener. (That’s what she said.)

With that realization, I instantly dropped to my knees and began pounding the ground, “Guacamole and mayonnaise together? WHY, GOD, WHHHHHHYYYYYYY?!”

Three hours later after I stopped sobbing, I began to ask around. Dare one of these so-called “completas” with its objectively disgusting mix of condiments actually taste good? After receiving enthusiastic si after si after si, I decided, “What the hell? When in Rome!” (That is, if Rome was slathered in mayonnaise…”)

And so I ordered:


While not sized quite as impressively as Anthony Bourdain’s (the “That’s what she said” just seems too easy here…), the version of this dish I got, called the “Italiano” (don’t ask as the name makes no sense to me either), certainly boasted the sick mix of toppings, minus the cheese and the sauerkraut. In fact, contrary to Bourdain’s sausage (still too easy…), the original “completa,” at least as far as I can tell from cafe menus in Santiago, doesn’t have sauerkraut or guac on it, but simply cheese, tomatoes and mayonnaise. Perhaps it’s different in Viña del Mar.

Anyway, what exactly is or is not included on a completa is a bit beside the point as I think the seemingly most repulsive pairing is the mayo and avocado. But…but…it’s actually not. In fact, it was delicious. While I couldn’t eat these everyday (mostly because I want my heart to keep beating), they make for a pretty satisfying meal of food. Especially for only $1.50.

Now if I could just convince them to add a layer of beans…