If you spend long enough in Bali, you’ll inevitably be pointed toward its parade of greatest hits—babi guling carved fresh from the spit, smoky sate lilit charred over coconut husk, lawar bruised with spice. These are Bali’s canon, its collective memory on a plate.
But the island, restless and ever receptive, never sits still. Santanera rises in this swirl not as a rebuttal to tradition, but as an extension of Bali’s habit of absorbing, bending, and reinterpreting the outside world. Even its name carries a wanderer’s spirit, pointing to the journeys, exchanges, and influences that shape the restaurant’s character.
Located in the perennially busy Canggu, Santanera doesn’t offer the easy shorthand of “fusion.” Instead, it insists on dialogue: Latin American flavours conversing with contemporary techniques and the fine produce of the island’s tropical terroir. “We don’t want to replicate Bogotá or Medellín here,” says co-founder and Colombian chef Andrés Becerra. “We want Santanera to feel authentic to its place, but still carry our soul.”
The food tells this story best. The ceviche mixto arrives bright and refreshing: octopus and prawn frolic in Santanera’s signature leche de tigre, enriched with thickened corn juice. The result is a dish that feels alive—zesty, clean, and immediate. It’s a high-energy introduction to the restaurant’s offerings, like plunging into Bali’s waters on a hot day.
It’s tempting to parse the different influences woven into each dish. Does the empanada lean more toward Latin America or Southeast Asia? Are the chicken skewers—lifted by the lively tang of fermented charapita (Peruvian chilli peppers) and the nutty richness of titote (coconut reduction) atop rice arepa—a way for the chef to bridge Latin America and Bali?
But it’s better to leave the analysis aside and simply surrender to the surprise each plate brings. Like the slices of paper-thin duck jamón that conceal tamarillo jam and blue cheese between a brittle semolina cracker—a bite that moves from savoury depth to tangy brightness to creamy pungency, all resolved with a delicate crunch.
The flavours carry a sense of movement. They dance, layering heat with acidity, creaminess with crunch. With tapas-style plates meant to be shared, that rhythm extends to the diners themselves, hands reaching, passing, tasting. Each bite is a reminder of food’s ability to travel, to adapt, and to connect. “Food is rhythm too,” says Andres. “It flows, it has pauses, crescendos, and it’s always better when it’s shared.”
The setting carries this same spirit. Santanera unfolds across multiple levels, each with its own tempo. High ceilings and clean lines nod to European sensibility, while terracotta warmth and wood-grain textures root the space in the tropics. The dining room is both lively and languid, tables set far enough apart to let a conversation stretch, or dissolve into the soundtrack of laughter. Upstairs, the rooftop bar opens to the breeze, cocktails finely tuned to the open air. The architecture doesn’t overwhelm—it breathes, much like the food itself.
For Chef Andrés, who honed his craft at acclaimed restaurants like Movida, Relæ and Els Casals, dining is less about formality and more about belonging. Santanera is the manifestation of that belief: a restaurant that finds its place in Bali’s swirl of influences without losing its Latin American roots. It’s about passing plates and trading flavours and stories—a reminder that food, like music, speaks in rhythms everyone can understand.
