Foodstuffs

I dedicate this blog to my friends in food and drink at Vesta. Their newest venture, Steuben´s, opened this weekend on 17th avenue in Denver. Go eat there!

Food is one of the most important things in my life. I love cooking and eating and breaking bread with friends, both new and old. Obviously there are few better ways to learn about a culture than to share in the art of food. For this reason, travelling is a food lovers paradise, where everything you eat is new and exciting. Here´s my attempt to share some of it with you.

The variety of fruits alone in this part of the world is mind boggling. I´ve tried so many new fruits, as well as a few old favorites. Of course mango is ubiquitous around here. You can often pick them up off the ground where they´ve fallen from trees and eat them on the spot. In Katarina, outside of Managua, I peeled a mango with my teeth and ate it while I looked out over Laguna Apoya, a crater lake. The pineapple is also divine, you can buy it by the slice from street vendors. I may never forget the piña batida (kind of a milk shake) that I had one morning in Granada for breakfast. The papayas here are huge, bigger than a (U.S.) football. I ate a slice of fresh papaya on the streets of Bogotá, wasting time while waiting for Robert to arrive. It was perfectly ripe, sweet, and musky. Jugos naturales, fresh squeezed fruit juices, are available everywhere, but nowhere are they more popular than on the streets of the Colombian Caribbean coast, where you can choose from ten or twelve different types of fruit and they are made to order. Maracuyá is my favorite. It´s a green fruit that resembles a small gourd. The juice is orange...it tastes light, tangy and refreshing. On the stranger side, the níspero, which is a round, brown fruit the size of a small orange with musky,dark flesh tastes like mix between a banana and a fig, kind of. We had it in a fruit salad at a shorefront restaurant in Santa Marta, also on the Colombian Caribbean coast. Mamoncillos look like tiny little limes which grow in bunches, like grapes. You crack their rind in half with your teeth and suck out a marble-sized pit which is covered in a pink flesh with a sweet and slightly sour flavor. It´s slimy and a lot of work for not so much reward, but fun nonetheless. We ate a bag-full sitting on the stoop of our room one late afternoon at La Casa de Felipé, a hostel in Taganga, Colombia. My favorite strange fruit is the granadilla (grenade) which has a hard, gourd-like yellow skin. You cut them open and find a greyish batch of what looks like fish eyes. They are black seeds about the size of watermelon seeds, each covered in a slimy sweet mucus. You suck the whole mess out of the shell, crunching the seeds and savoring the juice. They are surprisingly refreshing and delightfully fun to eat. I had my first one in the colonial village which time forgot, Guane, after a 90 minute hike along the edge of a magnificent canyon in the eastern range of the Andes, outside of Baricharra, Colombia.

Speaking of fruit, the platano or green banana is a staple throughout Central and South America. I hardly ever ate a meal in Nicaragua without fried platanos. A strange thing has happened to me and my relationship with them. In Nicaragua I was so tired of fried platano I never wanted to see one again and ate them only drowned in chile sauce. Now in Colombia, where there is more variety, I find myself craving fried platano and am dissappointed if they don´t appear on my plate. Go figure. Fried platano chips...thin and crispy like potato chips rock too, and are usually made fresh locally. The other Nica staple, which I don´t miss quite as much is gallo pinto, red beans and rice which are served with breakfast, lunch and dinner. Sometimes flavorful and delicious, other times bland and boring, but they fill you up and are a very important part of Nica culture. I haven´t had as many beans in Colombia, apparently they are only common in Medellín, but I have had lots of rice, the best being the Caribbean coconut rice...rice cooked in coconut milk which is as good as it sounds. Especially alongside fried snapper, which I picked out fresh, on the Playa Grande in Taganga.

On Isla Ometepe in the middle of Lake Nicaragua I also had fried fish while waiting for the bus to Merída. It was fresh from the lake, fried whole and covered in olive oil and garlic. Thanks to some advice from the woman who cooked it, I ate it with my fingers, which makes it so much easier to maneuver around the bones. I didn´t eat the head, but devoured the rest. It was hot and fresh and delicious. Speaking of Isla Ometepe, at the Hacienda Merída I was served two buffet meals a day which always included freshly baked whole grain bread, something very hard to come by in these parts. It was heavenly after so much Bimbo. They also served whole grain pancakes with breakfast, which I ate every day for four days, drizzled in honey. Yum. Of course there were always fresh tortillas in Nicaragua, corn of course, but in Colombia the arepa takes the place of the tortilla. The arepa is round and flat but thick. It´s fried corn meal sometimes filled with white cheese, an egg or sugar. They are heavy in your hand and divinely delicious.

Speaking of corn bread, I fear that I won´t ever taste again the beautiful corn bread which I had in Nicaragua. It resembles what we know as southern corn bread but not quite as crumbly,it´s mildly sweet and cake-like. During one long day of travel in Nicaragua, I bought some from a woman who was selling them on the bus. It was still warm and I can´t stop thinking about it.

I suppose that brings us to dessert, of which there is no shortage on this trip. One of my favorites is helado, in some cases natural frozen fruit juice, sometimes pre-fab ice cream treats made by Eskimo (think fudgesicle, dove bar, drumstick) but always cold and refreshing and always within arms reach. The coconut milk helado, fresh shaved coconut and coconut milk frozen into a popsicle in Villa de Leyva, Colombia probably takes the cake. After Villa de Leyva we found ourselves in another colonial village called Baricharra where they are known for making the famous Colombian dessert arequipe. Arequipe is milk pudding make with sugar and milk and panela. It´s like a soft, caramelly fudge you eat with a spoon (or a stick). I had a huge cup of it to myself one night. I thought at first there was no way I could eat the whole thing, but then it was gone...like magic. On the bus between Estelí and León in Nicaragua I had another coconut sweet...little finger shaped bars that were brown (cocoa) and hot pink. At the Humberto Huembes market in Managua, I had some sort of soft fry bread rolled into a cone and filled with pink frosting, topped with a cherry. In Nicaragua I had birthday cake in Somoto (my friend Anna´s daughter Clara´s 16th birthday) and Mother´s day cake in Sabalos, both were frosted in merengue. At Clara´s birthday lunch we also had homemade tacos, fresh-made tortillas stuffed with shredded chicken, seasoned in tomotao and onion and I think a little bit of cinnamon. They are eaten with repollo (shredded cabbage and beets) and chili sauce and I think I ate six. Finally, I have enjoyed countless ice cold beers, Toña in Nicaragua, Aguila in Colombia. The rum in Nicaragua, Flor de Caña, is delicious with some lime and the aquardiente, Colombia´s fire water is anise flavored. I could keep going and going...

There are still so many things I look forward to trying as we make our way around Colombia. I saw a street vendor last night in Santa Marta selling plates of sliced hot sausage and cheese with a spicy cream sauce, which I must try before we leave and now, it´s time for a cafe con leche, ¡adios!

Last Week in Exile

Traveling alone is a bit like being in exile.

I boarded a 12-seater puddle-jumper in Managua bound for San Carlos. A town which serves as a border crossing between Costa Rica and Nicaragua, San Carlos lies at the bottom of Lake Nicaragua at the mouth of the Rio San Juan. After a breathtaking flight over the lake, the largest body of fresh water in the world after the Great Lakes of North America, my little plane landed on a strip of red mud in the middle of the jungle. A quick taxi ride brought me to the docks and a two-hour wait in muggy, muddy, buggy San Carlos, from which my boat for Sabalos departed. Like most border towns, the transients, drifters, and hustlers give one a bad first impression and while I'm certain it has much to offer, San Carlos was like a layover in hell for me. I pondered my situation, was the $120 flight worth the trip down here to spend a few days on a river? I started to question just what exactly I had gotten myself into.

Eventually, my departure time approached and I loaded onto the lancha which would deliver me to my destination. The collectivo, or public boat which heads down the Rio San Juan, is a low-lying, long, narrow motor boat which sits about three passengers across. It is covered with open sides. We chugged away from the docks and headed down the river. Within moments of leaving San Carlos, I found myself surrounded by absolute beauty. The river is wide and lazy this time of year as the rainy season is just beginning. The shores are thick jungle, canopies of green broken here and there by fields where cows graze. There are more birds than I could keep track of, the most common of which was the garza or white heron...there were hundreds of them. I also saw some spoonbills, which are about the size of a heron, white, but they have these delicious cotton-candy pink wings and beaks which end in a flat spoon shape. The sky was filled with towering cumulous clouds, dramatic and breathtaking. Little islands of water hyacinth float along the river...down here they are called lechugas. Sometimes you'll see 10 or 15 of them floating down the river at once (or one really large one), herons sometimes catching a ride on them. The lancha stops along the way to let passengers off or pick up new ones. Every once in a while the shore is lined by a handfull of open air huts and you can see children and horses and chickens milling about, women waist deep in the river scrubbing laundry on rocks. Often there is only one lonely shack, or no homes at all but someone waving down the lancha for a ride. Every so often, the boat was swarmed by these tiny green flies, forcing everyone to take cover under shirts, hats, bandanas. Thankfully they aren't biters, but they get everywhere and are certainly annoying. The boat would speed up in attempt to shake them off.

About two hours later, I mistakenly disembarked in the pueblo of Sabalos, but was offered a lift to my actual lodge, where I was greeted by a staff of young Nicas, once again the sole guest. I took a bed in La Cabina Aventura, which is sort of the backpackers quarters, which means no frills and a shared bathroom (with the staff since I was the only guest). The other cabins are a bit more fancy with their own decks and hammocks right on the river, but too much for just one person. After a tour of the quarters, my host Maria Los Angeles invited me into town with the staff while they ran some errands. Maria, a 25-year old Managuan with a degree in tourism, Isa, an 18-year old from Sabalos who was in charge of the boats, Don Juan, our escort, probably in his mid-fifties, and I, charged up the river in a motorboat to Sabalos. The phones were down at the lodge and Maria wanted to call her mother from town. It was Mother's Day in Latin America, the 30th of May. In Latin America this day is treated much more like a national holiday than what we celebrate in the states. Everyone gets together with their families with food, music, flowers, cakes and more. Anyway, while she called her mom, Isa gave me a tour of Sabalos, a tiny little pueblo split in half by the Sabalos River, which feeds into the Rio San Juan. He pointed out the new water system which was in the middle of construction as well as three health centers, new to the town as well. Later we stopped to pick up a Mother's Day cake. Cake's in Nicaragua are all homemade. They come on pieces of cardboard wrapped in foil, not boxes. One of my favorite things is watching folks walk around town with a cake balanced on their palm. It's a real test of my self-control to not dip my finger in the frosting as they pass by. Before we returned to the lodge, Don Juan treated me to two deliciously cold and satisfying beers. Once again I found myself in Nicaraguan paradise after a long day of travel.

When we returned to the lodge I was once again included in the festivities as the staff celebrated Mother's Day with their resident "mother," Suzana. We had cake and soda in the dining area and I made everyone's acquaintance, striking up a particularly good conversation with Luis, the cook. It was about that time that some other guests arrived, a Swiss couple who were spending three years in South Carolina (?), on a two-week vacation to Costa Rica and Nica. Although it was short lived, it was nice to be treated like one of the staff for a while...reminds me of home.

I spent the next three days swinging in a hammock, watching the river float by. One of my favorite past-times was watching Los Sabalos Real, these gigantic fish, jump out of the water to munch on bugs. Some of them were probably 3 feel long...and those are just the one's I saw. They get much bigger than that. There are caymans as well floating in the river, but most of their activity is nocturnal. I also saw these funny little iguanas who run across the water at a breakneck speed, defying gravity. The birds were spectacular as well. At night I slept in my cabin room on the second floor of the lodge under a mosquito net, safe from the little green flies. It was a bit disoncerting to hear the bats swish by, inches from my head, thankfully outside my net. And the howler monkeys! While there are lots of monkeys in Nicaragua, they are a bit rare to see as I think they are less accostomed to humans as the ones you find in popular parts of Costa Rica. Although I never saw them in person, I awoke every morning at the lodge to the horribly disturbing roar of the howler monkeys. Although they are only a few feet tall and probably weight about 10 pounds, they sound like 10 foot tall monsters. My food a la Luis was unbelievable. I had curried chicken and fresh river fish, yucca and bean soup, fried eggs for breakfast and always jugo (juice) with every meal.

I don't know if I am able to properly describe the way it felt to be on this river for a few days. I have not had many experiences in my life that were more memorable, more beautiful. The pace and the wildlife and the people all slow and easy, tranquilo. Sabalos was a magical place for me to spend the last of my days in Nicaragua. It is virtually untraveled as of yet, but I'm certain this will change rapidly in the coming years as more and more people discover this paradise. I am thankful to have spent some time there when I did and will defintately go back if I have the chance.

La Ecoalbergue

Apparently, one can´t throw a rock in this part of the world without hitting an ecolodge. Ecotravel is the result of the demand for a certain kind of travel which is more sustainable and carries less negative impact than traditional tourism. Traditional tourism inherently has its problems such as over-development, cultural appropriation and transformation, and the exploitation of labor and resources. Certain travelers, my self included, try to find a way to combine their desire to see the world with their desire to protect what they are seeing from exploitation. While ecotravel is growing in popularity and there are many organizations which collect and disseminate information about this form of travel, one can slap the word "eco" in front of anything they want, insuring that you encounter a wide range of "eco" lodges on your journey. I´ve stayed at fully sustainable, smart, and effective ecolodges, I´ve stayed at places that focus a bit more on adventure travel or nature rather than social issues, and I´ve stayed at places whose extent of eco-friendliness is a sign reminding you to not leave the water running while you brush your teeth. There is even an ecolodge in Nicaragua where you can stay guilt-free for a mere $US400 a night.

That said, I thought I´d share my experience at La Finca Esperanza Verde, a shining example of sustainable tourism. Started as a sister city project between San Ramon, Nicaragua and Durham, North Carolina by a retired architecht and social justice activist, the finca is a coffee plantation which houses a guest lodge. In the midst of Nica´s "ruta de café," this fair-trade organic coffee is grown and harvested by workers from the local communities of Yucul and San Ramon. High up in the mountains, the lodge boasts a breathtaking view of mountains and rain forest as far as you can see. Guests of the lodge stay in rustic, yet lovely cabins and are served three home-cooked meals a day. There is hiking, horseback riding, a mariposaria (butterfly house), camping, cooking classes, and lots of wildlife. During harvest season guests can volunteer to help, learning about the organic coffee growing process. All profits from the coffee and the lodge go back into the San Ramon community. The project has built two schools and a library so far. All of the employees are from the community as well. The lodge is solar powered and has its own water filtration system...you can drink from the taps. The finca hosts educational seminars for kids and other local coffee growers. In addition to staying at the lodge, the organization will set you up with a homestay in San Ramon so that you might learn a bit about Nica culture. My stay at the finca was definately one of the highlights of my trip and by far the best example of ecotravel that I have experienced. This hasn´t gone unnoticed as the lodge is nationally and internationally recognized. I´ll post a link to the San Ramon/Durham project for anyone who is interested in hearing more.

I hope that ecotravel continues to grow in popularity and I would be especially pleased to see it become more common place in my own country.

Thanks to my cousin Francesca for recommending that I visit the finca!

Leaf Cutter Ants, the Radical Feminists* of the Jungle

While I have truly enjoyed all of the flora and fauna Nicaragua has to offer, I must admit that the thing I found most fascinating are the leaf cutter ants. I first came across them at La Finca Esperanza Verde outside of San Ramon in the state of Matagalpa. The leaf cutter ants are the hardest working creatures I think I´ve ever encountered. They are hard to miss as you trek through the forest because they literally cut a path about 3 inches wide, in many cases right down the middle of the hiking trail. They carry these huge chunks of leaves and flowers in their jaws, which float above their heads so that they resemble little sailboats floating along with green and orange and yellow sails unfurled. You can see them from 15 yards away! They are so beautiful and hard-working and incredible to watch. According to an estimate made by some entymologist, the ants do the equivalent of a human running a 4 minute mile for 30 miles with 500 lbs. on their back. Eventually they turn the leaves into fungus, composting 15% of the forests leaf production (!) Apparently they go great distances as well to harvest their crop. They form a complex caste system, of course, the cutters being the strongest. There are defender ants who have these huge mandibles which would draw blood on your finger if you got in their way. They defend the other ants from this crazy fly called a Phorid who tries to lay its eggs on the heads of the leaf cutters. When the maggot hatches, it eats the head of the ant and the ant dies. So the attack ant rides on top of the working ant (even more of a load) and fends off the fly...can you believe this? There are navigator ants who release pheramones instructing the others where to go. There are those who never leave the nest, constantly processing the plants into fungus, and the queen. All of the working ants are females. The males are biologically programmed to nothing other than fertilize eggs and promptly die...huh. What a strange little world we live in.

*Feminist Theory 101: Radical Feminists are separatists who believe that the solution to the inequality of the sexes is to separate themselves completely from any sort of relationship with men. Much to the chagrin of non-radical feminists, this relatively small group of feminists were the ones who seemed to get the most media attention during the women´s liberation movement of the 70s and 80s, leaving many people to associate all feminists with this particularly radical movement. Some of their actions probably resulted in the origin of terms like "man-hating feminist" and "feminazi." Now you know.