Chicharrón de Pollo

Chicharrón is, by definition, the skin of a young pig, deep-fried. Gross, I know. But it was actually the tipping point in me returning to meat. My first few months in Guatemala I tried to remain. But after offending some, and baffling others, and eating nothing but rice and potatoes in my homestay, I started to give. A bite of chicken here, of beef there. But I still considered myself a vegetarian…until I went to Zacapa.

“Just try a bite,” they said. So, I did. It was like bacon but a million times more amazing. Thick cut slabs. Crunchy yet chewy. Saturated with flavor (and fat). Salty. Delicious. After tasting, I let out a little groan of joy and said “I guess I can’t consider myself a vegetarian anymore.”

Now what you see above is not traditional chicharrón. I don’t even like it, but Hec loves this crap. When we get Pollo Campero (Guatemalan KFC) I give him the skin. Whenever I get a piece of chicken with skin, he gets the skin. I don’t like the texture and I don’t like the flavor. We make a prefect combination.

So when I was making my latest roasted chicken, I decided to remove the skin entirely, save the thighs and wings. Knowing this would break Hec’s heart, I decided to crisp it up in the frying pan with a generous glug of oil. That way I didn’t have to eat chicken with the skin, and he could enjoy it in its most exhaled form: fried.

I share this with you not so much as a recipe or technique, but more of a cultural nuance. Guatemalan’s love their chicharrón. I do enjoy a piece of the real thing every once in a while as well.

Quesadilla de Zacapa

We American’s know quesadilla to be tortillas filled with melted cheese among number of other ingredients. In Guatemala, while you do find this Mexican dish in many locations, the quesadilla is a sweet cake found primarily in the eastern part of the country, specifically the state of Zacapa. It uses a very salty crumbly cheese, queso seco (literally, dry cheese) that turns into a powder when you rub a chunk of it between your fingers. I suppose something like parmesean could be used as a substitute in recipes calling for queso seco, although it’s flavor is sharp like a cheddar or even blue cheese.

Recipes vary. Some use rice flour, others all purpose. Most of them contain a lot of butter, lard, cream, ect. My version is much healthier, if not too close to tradition. I was very pleased with the outcome, although it wasn’t a replica of the original treat.

Ingredients:
1 egg
1/2 cup fat free milk
1/2 cup plain greek style yogurt
3 T butter, softened
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup queso seco or parmesean cheese
1 cup whole wheat flour, or rice flour
1 t baking powder

Directions:
1)Preheat oven to 350F
2)Beat egg. Mix together milk, yogurt, butter, and sugar.
3) Add the cheese. Combine thoroughly.
4) Mix in flour and baking powder until just combined.
5) Bake until toothpick comes clean, about 45 minutes.

Dia de Todos los Sants, Part 2: The Giant Kites of Sumpango, and Fiambre.

I cant seem to make my mind up about the weather these days. The rainy season this year was quite pathetic. I can’t remember even a handful of days with the torrential downpours which are characteristic Guate between June and October. This dry spout made things quite hot and steamy in the country, not to mention what it did to the poor agro workers. But it has been wanting to rain. You can feel it hanging in the air. Your clothes become damp and uncomfortably stick to you back. Anyway, I have been whining about the weather, that its too hot, that I want the winter to come so I can use my sweaters again.

Last week I sorta got my wish. It started raining, and there were rumors of global warming pushing back the raining season until November and that this was just the start. (Lies… I looked on the map and saw it was spin off from Hurricane Ida.) Now she’s died down a bit and its hot again. But for a few sweet days it was actually cold. One night I was miserably cold and wondered what I had been thinking. The cold brought on a new predicament for me: I can’t sleep without my industrial-strength fan. We live in a big city, so I need the fan to put me to sleep, and to drown out the noises of the cars passing at night, and the 3am deliveries at the gas station next door. So…the first night of cold — which required long pants, three layers of shirts, and an extra blanket to take the chill off — I unsuccessfully attempted to sleep without my fan. After two hours of tossing and turning and unable to ignore the speeding trucks, or the clanks over at the gas station, I ventured out of my covers into the crisp apartment to turn the fan on. I had to put the space heater on for an hour or so just to bring my body temperature back to 98.6ºF.

The next night was chilly but not as cold, and those following have started climbing back into the uncomfortably warm temperatures, where I barely can use a sheet.

So…I’ve bored you with discussions on the weather…but it’s all going to tie together now. November 1st, All Saints Day in Guatemala, was a perfect fall day by my standards. In the morning it was quite brisk, sweater worthy, but the sun was out and the sky was so blue it hurt your eyes. It was a very pleasant temperature. I was pleased to finally break out my sweaters for the first time of the year. I wore one that Hec refers to as my Grandma Sweater, which doesn’t deter me from wearing it because it is warm, fuzzy, and in my opinion cute. And on this fall-like day (which are rather few in Guate, so a rare treasure) we drove an hour and some west of the city, just far enough to reach the rolling hills, but not too far of a drive to make it tiring. The destination? The town of Sumpango.

On November 1st this tiny pueblo holds a famous a giant kite festival. People in this community spend months and thousands of dollars in materials and man labor building beautifully decorated kites more than 10 meters wide. The frame is constructed of giant bamboo branches thicker than my arm, and the face is made of colorful tissue paper. Each kite has its own theme, sometimes religious, somethings social criticizms, sometimes just really pretty.

We departed from our apartment around 7am and arrived a little after 8. The traffic was light on the highways, but even at this early time the parking space in the town was filling up rapidly. We parked in a basketball court, watching the attendants instructing cars to double park…we knew leaving might be a little difficult come the afternoon. But oh well…

We wandered around looking for giant kites soaring in the sky to guide us to the activities, but it was too early. We followed the crowds of people until we arrived at the cemetery. Indigenous families, ladino families, and tourists packed into the small cemetery. Families were painting the graves, sculpting mounds of dirt where there lacked a stone, carefully arranged flowers, and burned incense as they prayed. It was a spectacular sight.

Further into the village the streets were lined with vendors selling handicrafts, kites, and food.

Finally we arrived to the soccer field where teams were assembling their kites. While they had spent months working on the face, they would carry the materials to the camp and put it together on the morning. Watching the teams tie together the gargantuan branches, and then at the end hoisting the giant disk up for display, was quite an attraction. In a nearby field families were camped out, having bbqs, and flying their kites.

We only stayed to watch the first round of flying due to the intense heat of the unexpected afternoon sun. While they were the children’s kites, they were still larger than anything I’d seen in the US: on average they were 2 meters wide! It was quite a spectacle watching the kites soar, and sometimes dive into the crowds below.

Before we left, you better believe it, we had some yummy food. Abodado asado (grilled marinated steak) with beans, rice, and blue corn toritllas. These tortillas can’t be beat. I’m not crazy about meat, but this was spectacular…even if it made me a little sick the next day.

Las Verapaces, Part 2: Biotopo de Quetzal y Salto de Chilascó

Part of the excitement of being in Guatemala is the ability to do things things that are forbidden in the U.S. While the numerous laws that we have are generally in place to protect individuals and the larger society as a whole, often they are aggravating obstacles and can even serve as barriers to positive human and cultural interaction.

After our time in Cobán, we traveled about an hour to the “Biotopo de Quetzal”. The biotope was a “cloud forest” with such densely moist air that plants can live high in the air without the need for soil. It is an interesting environment where strange speices of plants, animals, and insects live in harmony. It was really breathtaking.

We checked into a cheap little hostel nearby the nature reserve, and immediately took off for a hike. Despite the physical exertion we had expended the previous two days, we were ready for more nature-packed adventure. It was actually a quite relaxing stroll. We hiked a 4 kilometer loop, ascending 500 meters. We saw lizards; strange looking, brightly colored, spiking spiders; and colorful, twist, exotic looking plants. We chatted with a old Guatemalan version of a hippy, with long curly gray hair and beard, who served in the information booth and was excited to talk about the mystical nature surrounding us, as well as discuss the founder of the reserve who had been murdered during Guatemala’s brutal civil war.

It was a less intense, yet still tiring hike in the reserve, and when we got out we were ready for dinner. We exited the park back onto the main highway. The hippie dude recommended a restaurant located a good 5 kilometers down the road, and we weren’t about to walk it. At least not the way there. So we decided to do something I have always wanted to do, but have never been permitted due to strict (yet understandable) U.S. law: we hitch hiked. And it was incredible, I will tell you. The breeze felt amazing, the view was nothing you could get behind a glass window, and it felt so incredibly freeing. It was a pretty short ride, but when we jumped out of the bed of the truck I had electricity running through my veins. When we asked the kind gentlemen how much for his services, he told us not to bother and that we should just enjoy ourselves. How refreshing is that? We waved goodbye, and went to enjoy another delicious meal of Kakik. We were so full we ended up walking back int he pitch dark to our hostel, diving into the ditches whenever the 16-wheelers would whiz by. I slept heavy that night.

In the morning we rushed out of the hostel as quickly as we could, only having a cup of coffee and bananas on our way out. We were headed to El Salto de Chilascó, the tallest waterfall in Central America, but it was going to be a long journey and we wanted to get on our way. We took a bus 30-some kilometers from the hostel to the road entering the small pueblo of Chilascó. We waited at the entrance a good half hour until a pick-up truck make a turn towards the entrance and offered us a ride. We travled a bumpy 12-kilometer ride, lasting about 40 minutes, sharing the truck bed with 1500 eggs, hoping we wouldn’t hit any big bumps!

We were wished happy-hiking when dropped off at a tiny grass hut which served as the towns center for tourism. Don Clemantino, the president of the association of the department of tourism of Chilascó was so excited for visitors, and greeted us with big hugs and lots of information about the history of the town and the waterfall.

We were sent along our way with a tour guide, 11 year old Willie who looked about 8. He was quite the talker, discussing all the fruits and vegetables cultivated around his town as we passed them, including corn, potato, broccoli, cauliflower, carrots, squash, passion fruit, and probably many I am forgetting. He told us about the town, about his family, as well as humorous stories of past tourists who were not nearly as fast of hikers as we 😉 It was 3 kilometers through the village and surrounding coutryside until we arrived at the trail which descended to where we could view the waterfall. From there it was a 1-kilometer, nearly vertical drop, to the bottom. On the way there we wandered slowly, admiring the surrounding land, the streams, and the nature that we experienced. We stopped at a smaller waterfall which was so pure you could drink from it. There was a crudely-fashioned system to take water from this little falls down to a rest stop below, made from a two-liter soda bottle and some plastic tubing. Willie, the humanitarian he is, noticed some leaves had clogged the mouth of the device, and climbed up the falls to remove them.

A little further below, but farther than I had wanted being tired and all, we finally got to the destination. The falls were a breathtaking 130 meters high. So its not Niagara, but it felt like an accomplishment arriving. We rested a little while before heading back. We didn’t want to take too long so that we missed the last bus out of the town at 3pm, and be forced to sleep there for the night.

To arrive at the falls took 2 hours, but we made it back much faster. I was impressed with out timing. And when we finally arrived back to the little town we had a delicious hot lunch ready for us. We ate in a tiny little comedor (simple restaurant which is usually part of someones home), which I’m sure gets very little business. Willie had called ahead and ordered out meal for us ahead of time because it takes a little while to catch, kill, and prepare the chicken. People, this food was fresh. And boy were we hungry. I’m not a big meat-eater, but I enjoyed this chicken perhaps more than any chicken I’ve previously had. It was moist, tender, and flavorful, and served along with cooked veggies from the surrounding countryside, a salad, rice, and yellow-corn tortillas made in front of our own eyes. The woman even mills her own flour…the corn was hanging in the rafters, drying above our heads! I was impressed. We scarfed down the pollo asado (grilled chicken) and were so full and satisfied after such a long hike. We thanked Doña Tona, and headed home.

This was an exciting journey over all. When it was over I was exhausted, and my entire body was worn out…but it was a very rewarding feeling. I’m ready to go back to those parts, and can’t wait until I am sent on a trip to Las Verapaces with my work!

Las Verapaces, Part 1: Semuc Champey y Coban, and Kakik

The 15th of September is independence day in Guatemala and all of Central America actually. In 1821 they officially split from Spain. I was particularly thankful for the day because Héc got the entire week off! We took advantage of the time and went on an expedition to the highlands of Las Verapaces — the north central part of the country. I had never been to the region but had been yearning to go since the day I saw a photo of the gorgeous green rolling mountains with cascading waterfalls scattered about.

Left: the Cohobón river running past our hostel. Right: A cacao tree around the park, from where they make chocolate. Some locals were selling a crude, homemade chocolate using the cacao pods and sugar crushed together.
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The reason we had waited so long to make the trip was because its not an easy to place to reach. The roads in the past have been poorly maintained, the highways curve tightly around the mountains rather than cut through the base as in Colorado. Therefore, a trip that would perhaps take no more than two hours in the midwest takes an hard and bumpy four.

The first destination on our itinerary was Semuc Champey…or a hostel which lies just outside. Semuc Champey is a natural reserve with beautiful aqua-blue lagoons positioned on top of a “stone bridge”, as it is called. The bridge is a rock formation which makes a type of cap over the Cohobón river. It is truly a paradise….but to get there is quite a journey, as it is located in the middle of nowhere. You first must make the windy journey from the capital to Cobán, which lasts about 4 hours. The only problem is that, even if you purchase your seat a head of time, you will be among 20 or 25 people crammed into a 15 passenger van. Personal borders do not exist here. It didn’t seem to matter that we in the van were already uncomfortably full…if someone on the side of the road hailed us down we came a-screeching to a halt, the ayudante (the bus driver’s helper) would toss the new passenger’s baggage carelessly on the roof, then ask everyone to scoot over a bit more. At one point a poor old man had someone else’s grandma sitting on his lap and I half expected to be handed a stranger’s baby to hold for a time.

From Cobán you must take another 2 hour microbus to Lanquin. The bus is usually of the same variety as the previous, packed to the max; but it passes through some of the most gorgeous green country I’ve ever seen, so I completely forgot that my legs were numb. I won’t compare it to Ireland or Switzerland as I have heard do others, but only because I heard a Swiss girl drone on and on about how Switzerland is so much prettier than Guate. To me, it was absolutely breathtaking: rolling hills, strangely pointy mountains, everything covered in a lush-mossy green. The two hours passed in a flash as a gazed out the window…despite the little girl getting car sick just in front of us.

As the sun began to set we arrived in Lanquin, a little pueblo only 12 kilometers or so from Semuc, and where our hostel was located. We relaxed on a stoop outside a tienda and enjoyed a cold beer while waiting for our final transport to arrive. Within a half an hour we were whisked away to our hotel, in the middle of nowhere, and were safely in our little bungalow as the most fierce thunderstorm with a brilliant electric show began. We nestled into our rather hard beds and fell asleep to crashes of thunder and flashes of lightening.

The next day we awoke quite late, inhaled a very salty breakfast from the sparse menu our little rustic lodge offered, and then ventured into the jungle to explore some lagoons and hike some trails! The entrance to Seumuc was only 200 meters from our lodging, but once in the park we hiked an agonizing 1.2 kilometers nearly vertical. (You Amazing-Race trialthelon types are probably rolling your eyes at me…but this was basically rock climbing people. And that’s not my kind of sport!) The goal was the mirador (or viewpoint) where we got a glimpse of the mystical lagoons and rock bridge. Once we arrived at the top e rested for quite some time, relaxing in the shade, talking with Santiago- one of the many “rangers”, and gaining the courage to descend back down. It was slippery on the way up, and I imagined myself bouncing off the cliffs on the way down. It wasn’t as bad as in my mind, although I bit the dust (or mud, rather) a few times.

At the bottom again, we wandered to las pozas (lagoons) where we floated around, protected from the savage heat, for a few hours in the late afternoon. I could have spent an entire week just swimming in the pools…but unfortunately we aren’t children on a summer vacation, nor are we retired like someone I know. (Hint hint…you guys need to check this place out sometime next year!

The next day we visited Las Grutas de Lanquin–a large network of caves located just outside the town of Lanquin. We had to hike a shadeless kilometer to get to the entrance, but once there we spent an hour or so wandering around in the damp caverns, enjoying the shelter from the sun. From the caves we caught a bus back to the city of Cobán. We were exhausted from all the hiking and were looking forward to sleeping in a comfortable hotel, hopefully with cable TV, a luxury we don’t enjoy at home. It took us quite awhile to find such a place. I don’t know if I mentioned before, but Cobán is located in a particularly cloudy region of the country. The guides all say it is sunny for three weeks a year — in April — and the rest of the year a gloomy sheet of clouds sits over the city. We were lucky (or perhaps not) because it was very sunny and sometimes unbearably warm. It did provide for beautiful scenery. However…while walking around in the sunny afternoon, the sky opened up and began to pour down rain while the sun remained. How odd…

We finally found a Hotel within our budget: Monja Blanca. It was a beautiful yet strange place. The property was the traditional colonial style with the rooms along corridors surrounding beautiful courtyards filled with fruit trees and tropical plants. The rooms and hallways were lined with beautiful antique furniture, and little details such as a fresh glass pitcher of pure water in each room, took us back in time. But the joint was vacant. We rang the bell and waited so long we almost left before the doorman answered. He led us through one courtyard and into another. The sun was starting to set, and no lights were lit within the residence, and it was eerily silent. I have to admit that I was creeped out, but the doorman was very cheery, and led us to a cozy room with good ventilation, a clean hot shower, and cable TV 🙂 The price was right, so we stayed. He didn’t ask us for a credit card, a name, nothing. He gave us the key and told us we could settle everything in the morning. Such trust you don’t often find these days.

We took a nap, showered, then went in search for K’akik, the meal Cobán is famous for. K’akik is a traditional Mayan recipe of chunto (wild turkey) in a bath of herbs, veggies, and toasted spices including tomato, chile guaque, cinnamon, cloves, mint, and cilantro. It is traditionally served with the simple, sweet corn tamales wrapped in banana leaves. It was a delicious and filling meal after a hard day of hiking and traveling. I have never made the dish, however I have posted the recipe below. It doesn’t seem too difficult, although it surely takes some time to let the bird stew to a tender texture.

Kakik. Also Cack-ik, Kac-Ik, Caquik. Serves 4-6.

Ingredients:
5 pound wild turkey (or a store bought chicken would work just fine)
One entire bulb of garlic
Two or three sticks of cinnamon
One pound of tomatillos
10 o 15 tomatoes
4 chiles guaques (or spicy dried peppers)
10 cloves
One bunch of cilantro
One bunch of mint
One bunch of green onions (just the greens)
Achiote y sal to taste (I’m not sure if this is easily available in the U.S. Try Mexican grocers, but its ok to skip. It gives the deep red color of the stew, but not much in terms of flavor)

Directions:
1. Place the turkey in a large pot and just cover with water, bring to a boil, then reduce to suimmer. Add the garlic, cinnamon, and cloves. Cook until the turkey is done.

2. Meanwhile, sautee the tomatoes, onions, tomatillos, and chiles. Once they are all tender, puree them. Pass them through a collendar to remove the chunks and leave only a smooth sauce. Add the achiote to some cold water to dissolve it, then add the the mixture.

3. Add the mixture to the cooking bird and simmer for some time on very low heat, until the bird is tender.

4. Traditionally served with rice or simple corn tamales, as well as cooked carrots, squash, potato, and corn on the cob.

Recipe roughly translated from here: http://www.quetzalnet.com/recetas/Cack-ik.html

Tecpan and Iximché

Sometimes you just need to get away. I really don’t mind Guatemala City, but its nice to take a break from all the traffic and see some green countryside every now and then. After living in a place like Guate, I’ve really come to appreciate the value of green space – both to the human spirit and in dollars. Green is a luxury good, as Prof. Pollack might say. Any well-located, solid plot of green ground in the city is quickly purchased by a major developer who will quickly staple together an apartment complex or a compound of “American-Style” homes, which has lately been the trend. In our neighborhood I can count at least 5 new complexes currently being built. Unless you want to enjoy the grass in the median of Avenida Las Americas or Boulevard Reforma on a Sunday afternoon, to find a clean green space where one can go with their family for a picnic, one must drive a little ways outside of the city. In addition to green space, clean air and streets are valuable goods. There is lots of littering, and lots of pollution happening around the city. My guess is that the government has bigger problems to worry about at the moment, such as murder, violence, and corruption; funds are diverted elsewhere.

Just a few weeks ago the United States launched the Cash for Clunkers campaign urging Americans to ditch their old gas-guzzling emissions-secreting hunks of junk for more efficient environmentally friendly cars. Do you know where those cars will end up? Here. Importing used, totaled cars is a huge business in Guate. Entrepreneurs buy ’em, repair ’em so they are road worthy, and sell them for a decent price. And you bet there are still problems with them — like that black smoke coming out of the exhaust pipe. The road is filled with clunkers here. But the truth is people in general can’t afford to purchase that new hybrid, nor  do they have the time and money to fix major problems with their current vehicle (although I see a disproportionate number of Hummers here…but this just speaks to inequality). But for the majority, better just is not an option.

And then there is the city noise…but enough explaination : sometimes I just like to get out of the city for some piece and fresh air…

On Saturday we took a trip outside the city. We traveled only an hour and a half away — through beautiful farmland and patchwork-adorned rolling hills — to a little pueblo named Tecpán. A little beyond the pueblo is the ancient Mayan city of Iximché (proounced eek-seem-shey) which is now a national reserve. The ruins are not very large, nothing to compare to Tikal — but the history is there nonetheless, and its interesting to walk around, learn what all the structures had been used for, and imagine the ancient people strolling around going about their daily lives.

And most of all, the park was clean and green and well cared for. There were many families there walking around enjoying the space just as we were, others had brought picnics and were grilling carne asada, and children were playing soccer and tenta electrica (literally “electric touch”, but it is what we call tag). There was even a group of boy scouts having some type of ceremony. It was a tranquil place, and the only noise you could hear were the gleeful shouts of children playing. What a nice break it was for us — we who live next to a 24/7 gas station with the noisiest carwash you’ve ever heard. Sometimes I don’t even realize how loud it is until it shuts off and my ears are ringing — as if I am attending a concert.

We walked around the ruins for a little while before we settled under a tree to just rest and watch. The sun was out, blazing hot, but we were safely sheltered by the tree. We were really lucky to catch a sunny day like this in the middle of the rainy season. We just laid there watching a group of indigenous kids playing a very complex version of tenta electrica for quite some time, enjoying the nature and the tranquility.

But then our stomachs began to rumble, and we proceeded to our next destination: lunch! Tecpán is esteemed for its restaurants. There are more than a dozen of them, all advertising carne asada, caldo de gallina criolla (a traditional chicken stew), mantequilla lavada and other fresh dairy products — loads of culinary treats you can’t find as fresh in the city. There are a few restaurants we really like, such as Katok and La Cabaña de Don Robert — but my favorite is Rincón Suizo. I’ve mentioned before that I don’t eat a lot of meat, but when we come to Tecpán I cannot pass up the sausages. I even like the pork chops they serve here, and I don’t ever remembering enjoying pork chops. The meats are top of the line, fresh products from the surrounding countryside. Thats hard to pass up. And the tortillas are made fresh, taken from the komal (cast-iron griddle over a wood-burning fire) seconds before brought to your table. The smell is intoxicating. Here the tortillas are made with yellow corn, versus the white corn tortillas we get in the city. They are different. Not necessarily better, but noticeably different. And because of the freshness, much more enjoyable.

We ordered a typical Guatemalan lunch. Héc had pork chops with roasted cebollines in chimichurrie (green onions in a garlic-parsley-parmesean sauce) and Guacamol. I had chorizo and tortillas with guacamol on the side. We also ordered a portion of aged Chancol, a Swiss-style cheese made by people we distantly know, located in Nebaj at least 8 hours away on partially-unpaved roads. I’ve been dying to go there since I learned they had a little bed and breakfast. Plus cheese might be my favorite food. Anyway, in Tecpán we ate well and relaxed throughout the afternoon. It was a beautiful day up until we were within 30 minutes of the capital when it began to rain. And how refreshing it was to be cooled off by a summer shower after a long day in the sun. It truly was a perfect day.

Greek Salad, Guatemalan Style

I eat lots of salads these days, and they are continually changing and evolving depending on the ingredients we happen to have, how productive my herbs have been, and where my cravings may be leading me. In general, my “Salad” entries will probably be quite short (although this one is not), because there are plenty of them. And in all honestly they’re not that complicated, and perhaps not anything too out of the ordinary. But I love salads, and I am quite particular about the way I have my salads (I rarely order a salad as-is on the menu, and always ask for the dressing on the side because I abhor soaked salads). Besides, this is a blog about everything I love foodwise, so I’m gonna write about them anyway. Also, its often an exploration into ingredients that are new to me that I discovered in Guatemala. Perhaps you are already very familiar with them, or perhaps they will be ingredients that are difficult to find outside of Guatemala or Central America, and maybe sometimes they will be ingredients I am longing for (like sweet wide-leaf basil).

This is a Greek-style salad. I say this mainly because it has olives (yes, we found a shop with high-quality Kalamata olives with pits in the brine – I also abhor canned olives), tomato, and a white crumbly cheese — all things that remind me of a good Greek salad. Also, I don’t care for cucumber unless peeled and seeded, so that will always be left out of my Greek Salad. This salad is different, however, because the cheese is not feta. Feta you can find here in Guate, and its not all that expensive (1/2 lb for 3USD, does that sound reasonable? I really don’t remember). Nonetheless, queso seco, a crumbly salty dry (seco means dry) is much more common, less expensive, and very Guatemalan. Despite my love of international cuisine and goods, I really enjoy keeping with Guatemalan goods and produce wherever possible. After all, when I eventually move away, it will be difficult to find some of these things. So I used queso seco.

Additionally, I added to my salad some toasted pepita, or pumpkin seeds. I was not very familiar with pepita before coming to Guatemala, although have seen them used in a few bloggers’ recipes. Here in Guate they use it on everything. They put toasted and ground pepita on unripe mangos with lime and salt, on oranges, and they even make a fresco, or juice, from it. I use pepita in a lot of my recipes, both whole and ground, especially lately. They are very inexpensive, when toasted they offer a wonderfully crisp pop to in your mouth, when ground they add a nutty flavor and crumbly texture. I especially love the sound they make when toasting — in just a few seconds in a hot pan or in the oven they pop very much like popcorn. I like to prepare everything in my salad and then toast them, and throw them on top still warm and making popping noises. I know people say to let everything cool before putting them onto greens, however I love the effect the hot seeds have on the rest of the textures and flavors.

Greek Salad Guatemalan Style (for one):

Ingredients:
3 Leaves Red Escarole, or two handfuls of any other green you prefer
1 roma tomato, diced (seeded if you prefer, but I like the juice)
5 olives, pitted and sliced
Red onion, slivered (use as much as you like)
2 Tablespoons queso seco (alternatively, finely grated romano)
2 Tablespoons toasted pepitas (perhpas sunflower seeds as an alternative)
A dash of red wine vinegar or juice of 1/2 a lime (both are lovely)
A dash of extra virgin olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste (the cheese is salty, so you may not need any)Directions:
Start with the greens finely torn. Add the diced tomato and sliced olives, and cheese. Salt and pepper a pinch and few turns. Vinegar and Olive oil last, tossing with your fork.

Elephant Chips

The Ancient Mayan legend says that Guatemalans are “the people of the corn”. One day three gods, all water-dwelling feathered serpents, tried to create man. They began with mud, but the creation could neither talk nor dance. Second they tried wood, but the figures had no souls or blood, and destroyed all creatures in their sight. Finally, they successfully created men from maize, or dough made from cornmeal. And so, that is how the Guatemalans call themselves the people of the corn. When we think about this creation story compared with the other traditions of the world, it may not seem that far fetched.

Another Legend says that Elephants come from potatoes*. And if you look not-too-carefully at a gnarled spud you might see a resemblance (perhaps the ears and trunks form after fertilization). The story says that if the mother elephant fails to protect her eggs carefully, the greedy humans will ravage her nest and turn them into delicious mashed potatoes with garlic and chives. Alternatively, if the mother sits on her eggs too long, she will squish them, turning them into potato chips, which the humans also quickly gobble up. It is a delicate balance reproducing in the elephant world.

That must have happened here. We made some lovely, simple, healthy potato chips tonight to accompany our tuna sandwiches. However, they didn’t become flat from an overprotective momma elephant…they were just thinly sliced, tossed with olive oil, salt, and paprika, and put in the oven for 20 minutes at 425, flipping half-way through.

Elephant Chips:
3 large russet potatoes
3 tablespoons olive oil
salt to taste
1 teaspoon paprika

Directions:
Preheat oven to 425ºF. Thinly slice the potatoes and place in a bowl. Drizzle with olive oil, sprinkle with salt, and toss. Place the potatoes on baking sheet in a single layer. Bake multiple batches if necessary, otherwise the chips won’t crisp. Sprinkle with paprika, more or less to taste. I recommend experimenting with your favorite herbs and spices- paprika is always my go-to-spice for this kinda stuff. In the oven for about 20 minutes, flipping half way through, or until golden. Baking time may vary depending on your oven and how thick you slice your potatoes.

*The second myth is not a true Mayan legend. Solo tonteras.

Chile Relleno (Stuffed Peppers)

In Guatemala chile rellenos are a very traditional dish. They might begin with chile dulce, a sweet bell pepper, or even something has hot as a jalepeño. They are stuffed with anything from potato to picada (minced chicken or pork with potato and other veggies and spices), but something they all have in common is that they are battered in an egg mixture and fried on a pan. This here that I have made is not at all near the traditional recipe. I’ve never seen beans or corn or even cheese inside Guatemalan chile rellenos. I would say these are more of a tex-mex adaptation. But what is so wonderful about this meal is they perfect are for catering to picky families. You can probably put anything in them you desire, and you can make them all distinct. For example, Héc loves rice, and I don’t generally care for it unless its fried up with egg, veggies and soy sauce (which actually sounds like a wonderful idea for an asian version of this dish). So I made his with rice, and mine with out. And because he is lactose intolerant it was easy to leave the feta cheese out of his.

I made this in a slow cooker, but you could prepare these in anything from the oven to a pressure cooker.

Tostones (Smashed, twice fried plantians)

Not exactly the most healthy food in the world, but they are delicious. And I was recently inspired by an article by Michael Pollan in which he examines American’s growing obsession with cooking shows, but lack of actual cooking, which perhaps is connected to the obesity epidemic. The article ends with an enticing diet plan for Americans: eat whatever you want, but you have to cook it. So, with this new insight, every once in a while I can indulge in a few deep-fried treats.

We first encountered these babies in Livingston Guatemala, located on the Caribbean coast. We were at Buga Mamas, a restaurant/classroom where indigenous adolescents can learn the ins and outs of ecotourism. During our three days on the secluded strip of relatively undeveloped land, I believe we ate there at least 4 times. The ceviche was delicious, the fried mojara (white fish) was stuffed with garlic, and the mojitos were strong. But what we loved were the tostones (also know as patacones in other areas).

The first day when we arrived, after a chilly 30 minute ride on the bumpy lancha (speed boat), and after checking into our little guest house, we were starving. We walked down the main street toward the muelle (dock), where we were told we could find some decent eats. For how many positive things I had heard about Livingston, it was rather dead. Its economy was based solely on tourism, yet there were only a hand-full of sanitary-looking restaurants. Now, Héc will tell you. I’m not afraid of food. I eat street food in Guatemala all the time, and I have paid dearly with all kinds of intestinal treats. But when it comes to seafood I don’t risk it. Buga Mama was a cute little restaurant located right on the water with great atmosphere. It advertised disinfected veggies and the bathrooms were clean. Thats all I ask.

So we arrive to Buga Mama, at the suggestion of our hotel keeper. Immediately we were served a beautiful plate of hot and crispy, yet tender, tostones. In Guatemala City I had had plataninas, which are basically a potato-chip-style fried plantian. But these guys were double duty! First you fry 1″ chunls of green plantians, take em out of the oil, smash em, fry them golden, and sprinkle with salt. We came back for more every day. And as soon as we got home from the trip we recreated them. As well as Pan de Coco, which will be a post for another day.

Tostones:Green Plantains (as many as you’d like!)
Oil for deep frying

Heat the oil, about 4 fingers deep will do, until ready for frying.

Meanwhile, peel the green plantains and cut them into 1 inch chunks. When the oil is ready, carefully put them in. When they begin to brown, remove with a slotted spoon, and place on a flat surface covered in paper towels. Use the back side of a wooden spoon, or something similar, and smash them. Put them back into the oil until they are golden.

Pictures from top to bottom: Tostones served at Buga Mama; Buga Mama menu; Garifuna New Year Celebration; The main drag in Livingston Guatemala