La Comida

Today, there was a cooking class, where we learned to cook a dish indiginous to the Ixil region in the highlands of Guatemala.  So it seems appropriate to talk a little about the food situation here in Xela.  But first, a couple of pictures of the cooking class.

The dish is called Boxboles (pronounced Bosh-boll-is), and is very simple.  You take some sort of large-leafed lettuce (to me, it tasted like arugula), and spread a mixture of harina (corn flour) and water on the leaf.  You fold each half of the leaf in toward the center, and then fold the whole thing again (so it is one-fourth the original width).  Then you steam them for "a while".  They kind-of look like grape leaves at the end. Here is a picture of Cesár, our chef, demonstrating.

Meanwhile, we also prepared two salsas.  One made from toasted pumpkin seeds, salt, and water (that´s all!), and the other made from chiles, tomatoes, salt, and water.  Nothing too fancy necessary.

This is me, hard at work, while Cesár mugs for the camera.  And by the way, it was hard work.  The pumpkin seeds kept jumping out at me.  Like cooking popcorn in an open pan.  We kept calling it La Guerra de las Semillas, the war of the seeds.

So busy eating, that I forgot to take much of a picture of the end result.  Oh well.

Anyway, as for other food.  First of all, Patricia, the mother of my host family, is an amazing chef.  She has given us such variety; our big meals have never been the same.  The problem is that I cannot really ask for the recipes, because it most cases, I still do not know the names of the ingredients.  But I can describe a few dishes.  For the most part, they are really made from the same ingredients that we have in the United States, if prepared somewhat differently.

Breakfast everyday includes oatmeal and tea.  In addition to the oatmeal, there´s usually a couple of pancakes with syrup, or slices of french toast with jam, or an egg and toast.  Often there´s a banana as well.  Today, we had a guava slice (or something like it), a pineapple slice, and a banana.  In other words, the breakfasts are very similar to what is available in the U.S., but obviously much better than I usually eat myself (except when Dad cooks at home, of course).

Lunch is the big meal, and we usually eat around 1:15 or so, when we return from school.  Everyday is something fantastic.  Today there was a ground beef-carrot-onion mixture, served with rice, and it was delicious.  Usually we have chicken or ham or fish.  Yesterday we had a dish with spaghetti noodles, a cream sauce, ham, and creamed corn.  There are often salads or homemade soup with homemade croutons (I have to stop using the word homemade, because it seems that everything is homemade, but it is just impressive that every meal is from scratch).  There´s lots of noodles.  My favorite dish is probably what I´d call a soft taco, but I´m not sure what it is really called down here, but it may have nothing in it except eggs and a vinegar-based salsa or picante sauce, but it is delicious.  Seriously, I have enjoyed every meal here, and what impresses me most is that the dishes do not seem to be too complicated, but there are always great.

Dinners are much smaller than in the U.S.  It is common to have fried plantains with a black-bean sauce and bread.  Or maybe a soup.  Or a couple of the egg-taco things.  Oh, and warm tortillas are available at every meal.  It´s weird, but we never have leftovers.  Whether that is because Patricia knows exactly how much to make for each meal, or whether it is because another family member always eats the leftovers, I am not sure.  But it is always fresh food for us.

I should mention horchata.  This is a common drink down here made from rice water, milk, cinammon, and sugar.  It´s pretty good.  I guess that the water in which the rice was cooked was traditionally reused for this drink, though I think Patricia purchases it at the store.  It´s an unusual white color, but it really is pleasantly sweet.

On Sundays, we are asked to use the restaurants to feed ourselves, to give our host families a break from cooking.  To be honest, Sunday is definitely the day where I eat the poorest.