Food and Drink

It is almost as difficult for me to find suitable food here in Colombia as it was in Spain. Almost. Thankfully I can positively identify chicharrón now, and stay far, far away.

Before coming here, I was expecting my fair share of rice and beans; I love rice and beans, and according to a vegetarian we met a few towns ago--rice and beans together make a complete protein. Awesome.

But did I find rice? Beans? Holy frijoles--no. Occasionally, on ordering a menu del dia (sort of like a blue plate special, but you know, Latin,) one of my sides will be rice. If I am really having a lucky day, there will be beans as well. Taylor will testify to the glee on my face when beans appear at our table. It´s an absurd sight to be sure.


Also included in your menu del dia, which will cost you about $4 USD, is:

-Soup (consistently the most enjoyable part--unless there are beans)

-A ´salad´of iceberg, carrot, and some sort of oil

- A variation on the fried corn fritter or arepa that is so popular in Latin America (yum as well, but honestly the fried food idea gets old quickly)

-Fried platano (like a plaintain or giant banana)

-A portion of chicken or beef or whatever the local delicacy is. In Salento, it was trout. Pink trout. It was rathter tasty, but we passed the trout farm on our hike around Cocora. Farmed trout? In Colombia? No, no thanks.

-Last but not least, the ever-present JUICE. Instead of a nice beer or glass of wine or tall drink of water with a meal, here they drink juice. Always. Gourmet cooking shows feature their final product on a stunning tablescape complete with lit candles, a scenic backdrop, and a tall glass of frothy JUICE. Usually mora, which is some kind of berry with a taste somewhere between raspberry and rhubarb. In addition to being hilarious, it is also delcious. I will miss this juice culture when I return home.


What else is odd about Colombian food and drink? Well, the very first thing I noticed on arrival was how drinks are sold in stores. Milk, water, juice, yogurt--all in bags. Yes, thin plastic bags. Pillow-sized pouches of drinking water, unrefridgerated milk tossed about in boxes dotting the grocery aisles, little colorful packs of juice concentrate, filled almost to bursting. BPA schmee-PA, right?

Currently, we are in Medellin. It´s cool, but lordy is it expensive. Also it seems to be harder to find a menu del dia in a bigger city like this. Thus far, Ive only had a pastel--something like an English pasty, or meat pie. When we get further north to the Carribean coast, I will be trying a lot of ceviche, some Cuban food, and all that lies between. Wish me luck.

Cali

Similar to it´s American cousin, Cali is loud, busy, and HOT. Beyond that, they differ quite substantially. Food, music, acceptable forms of dress... I would say that I don´t ever want to eat another empanada, but that would be a lie. Who doesnt love a good fried meat pie? It is a bit disconcerting, however, to compare the ammount of readily availible (and readily consumed) fried foods with the petite fit bodies of the people of Cali. Must be the dancing.

In the world of salsa dancing, it is said that out of the 3 capitals of salsa, all Cubans can sing, all Puerto Ricans can play an instrument, and all Calieños can dance. Lord can they dance. Thanks to the African polyrhythms that make the basis for all latin music, we gringos have an extremely difficult time adapting our standard 1-2 1-2 time to this. (Taylor totally cheats, being half Mexican. Boy, you should see those hips swivel!) But we still try, much to the amusement of Colombian onlookers.

Thursday night we went to a salsa club, Tin Tin Deo, named after a song of the same title. I have to admit I was rather terrified to go. I was envisioning a high celling over a well lit dance floor, cordoned off by shadowed onlookers--watching, always watching. It turned out to look like a lot of dive bars in Portland- low celling, low lighting, cheap beers, hokey wall decorations, LOUD music. It was perfect.

Friday night we went to a different club, much smaller. So small, in fact, that dancing couples spilled out to cover the sidewalk and even bled into the street. This was far more intimdating, due only to the ample lighting provided by the street lights.

Something I have noticed and admired about Colombians is how they ´party.´ Very rarely will you see someone out at a bar or club here that is so drunk they cannot stand, or getting belligerent and shouting just to convey the height of their merriment. People here don´t have to be drunk to have fun or talk to new people, they are at ease in general, allowing them more time to dance about the floor in dizzying displays of natural talent.

Combine all these things, and you have Cali. Hot, humid, busy and beautiful.

Up next- reports from Salento, the virtues of sports-bras while in transit, and a rundown of food and drink in Colombia.

Kara