You’ll roll up your sleeves in Bogotá’s kitchen scene—cooking four Colombian dishes side by side with locals, learning tricks for arepas and Amazonian fish, then sharing laughter over homemade ice cream at the table. It’s part lesson, part family lunch—and you’ll leave smelling faintly of corn flour and caramelized plantains.
I’ll be honest, I almost walked right past the green wooden gate on Calle del Estanco del Aguardiente (or was it Calle 38? The maps were no help). I rang the bell, feeling a bit like I was sneaking into someone’s home—which, in a way, I guess I was. Inside, the kitchen smelled like warm corn and something sweet I couldn’t place at first. Li, our instructor, greeted us with this big smile and handed me an apron before I could even get my bearings. There were six of us—two from Germany, a couple from Cali (the city), and me still fumbling with basic Spanish greetings.
The first thing we made were arepitas rellenas—little corn cakes stuffed with chicken or veggies. My hands got sticky fast but Li just laughed and showed me how to flatten the dough without it falling apart. She told us about her grandmother’s trick for getting the edges crisp. When we fried plantains for patacones, the sizzle drowned out our nervous chatter for a second. Someone asked if we’d get to eat everything we cooked (yes, thankfully). The main dish was fish cooked in bijao leaves—Li brought out these huge glossy leaves from the Amazon and let us wrap our own little bundles. The steam smelled earthy and green when she opened them up later.
Lunch felt more like a family meal than a class. We sat together around a long table—passing plates, pouring lulo juice (tart and bright), swapping stories about where we’d tried Colombian food before (I hadn’t). Dessert was sweet plantains caramelized in butter with homemade ice cream; honestly, I scraped my bowl clean before anyone else finished. Someone tried to say “delicioso” in perfect Spanish and totally butchered it—Li just grinned wider.
I still think about that afternoon sometimes—the way everyone loosened up after tasting their own food, or how Li’s hands moved so fast when she showed us how to fold the bijao leaves just right. If you’re looking for a Bogotá cooking class that feels real—not staged or rushed—you’ll probably love this one. Just don’t trust Google Maps too much; ask someone local if you get lost.
The class is on Calle del Estanco del Aguardiente (also called Calle 38), next to restaurant "Orígenes".
You prepare two starters (arepitas rellenas and patacones), a main dish (fish in bijao leaf), and dessert (sweet plantains with homemade lulo ice cream).
Yes, all areas and surfaces are wheelchair accessible.
Yes, all ingredients are provided for every dish you'll make.
You get water plus one fruit juice served with your main dish.
Infants and small children can join; prams or strollers are allowed.
Look for the green wooden gate next to "Orígenes" restaurant on Calle 38/Calle del Estanco del Aguardiente; ring the bell there.
No, all kitchen tools and aprons are provided during your Bogotá cooking class experience.
Your afternoon includes all fresh ingredients for four Colombian dishes, use of kitchen tools and aprons while you cook alongside local instructors, water plus one fruit juice during lunch—and plenty of time at the table to enjoy what you’ve made together before heading back out into Bogotá’s streets.
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