A Culinary Journey into Colombia’s Regions: Misia

Warning: In this article about Colombian food you will find a high concentration of Colombian words that have no translation. 

When one of your favorite chefs invites you over for a meal, you don’t say no. At least, I don’t. So when Leonor Espinosa invited me to try out Misia, her new restaurant in Zona G (the National Museum spot has been open for a year), I was quick to say Sí.

Zona G is a tough place to open a restaurant. You’ve got competition galore, high real estate prices, and limited parking. But Leo got the spot right – just a couple of blocks south of the concentration of restaurants, at the Holiday Inn on Carrera 7.

She got it right with the decor, too. Misia – both the one here and downtown – has an airy, relaxed feel. The large open kitchens are attractive, and the staff looks happy to be doing what they’re doing. The waiters were knowledgeable about what they were offering and serving, which is surprising in a city with a serious deficiency in server kindness and education.

The menu is all about traditional Colombian food – criollo, as they say in Spanish. It’s about what’s relaxed and popular, what people grew up with. It’s the kind of food you’ll find in people’s kitchens, at markets and street food stands, and at fairs.  Oh, and those simple plates and cups? They’re typical of those people use at home around Colombia (so the chipped enamel is not a mistake).

What we were invited to try

Arepa de huevo con picadillo de cebolla junca. Whaaaat? Yeah, a long name. But it just means an arepa de huevo filled with the egg, of course, as well as chopped green onion. This is a typical Colombian food item. Since we were sharing it, it was served cut into four large pieces. With a crispy light outer layer (well, for something that’s fried, it was pretty light) and filled to the stuffing point, it was amazing. At COP$6,300-7,900, depending on the filling, it is not the cheapest arepa de huevo I’ve had, but it is so worth the extra dollar or two.

Arepa de huevo Misia Bogota
Arepa de huevo

We got the extra servings of aji picante, but don’t worry, nothing here is that hot. The suero one is a milky creation that was a bit non-descript. The sesame one (ajonjoli) was amazing, with a deep flavor like tahini with peanuts and a bit of a spicy hit. Unfortunately, you can’t buy this to take home.

Aborrajado en tempura was a very ripe sweet plantain, just at its peak, filled with cheese, then breaded and fried. It was crispy and yet soft, with gooey cheese inside. Eat it quick, this is best hot.

Salad. We got the arugula salad with yogurt dressing, caramelized nuts and basil. It was served in a mason jar, which you just shake to distribute the dressing. I thought it was a cute way to serve a salad, but I did take it out of the jar to eat it in a less messy way. It didn’t seem like that much salad until I put it on the plate – it’s a good sized portion.

The pork meatballs in aji criollo sauce were fantastic. For anyone missing good meatballs, come get these.

The chicharrones are what fried pork rinds should be – all meat, all edible, all delicious. (And no pesky pig hair sticking to them).

Chicharrones Misia Bogota

Pizzeta de maiz morado. This very thin pizza had an ingenious purple corn crust topped with doble crema cheese, tomato slices and basil. The colors are gorgeous – I’ve never before had purple pizza crust that I could feel good about. Delicious, gluten free and vegetarian – a good combination.

Pizza with a purple corn crust Misia Bogota

Raspado envenenado (lulo and gin). It was set on our table in a long stemmed glass, sweetly exotic and tart but not acidic. I’ll be ordering this one again.

Raspado de Kola Roman. This bright pink syrupy soda is a Cartagena institution. I think it’s an acquired taste, which I’m not yet Colombian enough to have acquired. It was visually beautiful, though.

The hot sauce on the table isn’t so hot. I mean, it’s tasty. It’s just not going to fry your taste buds. At least, not if your taste buds have been trained on Mexican food. Remember, we’re in Colombia. The hot sauce doesn’t get to the burning point.

They serve Devotion coffee, a Colombian coffee company that works with 800 coffee producers in Caldas and donates part of the proceeds to the Fundación Leo Espinosa.

Colombian drinks

To quench your thirst, try refajo (that very Colombian mix of soda and beer, with lime) or a raspado envenendado, which are shaved ice drinks with fruit and alcohol.  The cocktail list takes advantage of fruits like mora, coconut, lime, gulupa, tamarind, lulo; the one with aguardiente, gulupa and mint sparked my imagination.

Juice is made with fruits like arazá, corozo, badea, feijoa, guayaba agria, guanabana, curuba, nispero, zapote, borojó, and chontaduro. Altogether, there are 21 fruits listed on the menu. And if you include the batidos (which are like milk shakes made with fruit) you can add 8 more flavors. That’s epic.

And that’s not counting agua de maiz, agua de arroz, chicha de corozo or the refreshing aguapanela with lime. Chicha is a fermented drink made from fruit or grains – I’m interested in trying the corozo version, which is new to me. Cholao de frutas is a drink of shaved ice, sweetened condensed milk, and chunks of tropical fruit.


Piquete is all those fried things that you love about Colombia. COP$5,000-9,900

Entradas COP$10,500-19,000 (mostly, with a few exceptions that include shrimp and fancy fish and are therefore more expensive).

Meat COP$23,000-35,000 (chicken, steak, ribs).

Fish and seafood COP$23,000-27,900

Rice dishes COP$25,000-32,900

As you can see, the prices are quite reasonable for 1) a top chef’s restaurant and 2) for the area, Zona G – perhaps Colombia’s most expensive spot to get a bite.

Misia was comfortably packed at lunch. I’ll be dropping by soon to get some more arepas de huevo, so I’ll see what the breakfast crowd looks like.

And what in the world does Misia mean? It’s a term of respect like miss. So it would be Misia Karen. A new one for me: I haven’t quite adjusted to hearing people all over Bogota call me Doña Karen, so I’m not sure I’m ready to add misia to my Colombian vocabulary.

Looking for the bathroom? When you find the door that says Doña Petra, don’t think it’s a celebrity’s dressing room. Doña Petra is like a Colombian Jane Doe. It’s the ladies room.

Have you eaten at Misia? Let me know what you think in the comments section below!


Carrera 7 #67-39 Local 2, Zona G, Bogota


Carrera 6 No. 27 – 50, right next to the Museo Nacional (National Museum), Bogota


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