The Ngobe Cookbook

One of the less satisfying aspects of the PC experience is the food. Living with host families means that I eat what they eat, which some days is more of a chore than others. I have a secret jar of peanut butter in my room, a crutch which I originally hoped to avoid. But with 8-10 hours between some meals, and plates filled with only carbs, I am often left with a taste for something homey. If you´d like to spend a day eating like a Ngobe, read on. I´ll fill you in on some of their favorite recipes.

Coffee: If you had told me back in August that I´d be living in a place where I am offered coffee 3-5 times a day, I might have hugged you, kissed your cheek, and stood grinning, hands clasped, unable to control my glee. Alas, the ¨coffee¨here is not quite what I´d imagined. Here´s how you make it:

Empty a 20 cent package (about 3-4 tbsp) of coffee into a large pot. Throw in no more than 2 cups of water. Place over fire or stove, stirring occasionally for 10-15 minutes. You should have a thick paste. (This is when the coffee smells really good, and I always get excited, even though I know what´s coming next.) Throw in 8-12 cups mugs of water, depending on how many family members or guests are present. Add enough sugar so that each cup has at least 5 tsp. Serve luke warm or cool and in giant portions.

This recipe usually results in a brownish liquid that tastes mostly like sugar water. Hummingbird food, if you will. Babies start drinking coffee as soon as they can hold a cup, as evidenced by the kids´unfortunately cavity-ridden teeth. I do know a few people who make a decent cup of coffee though, and I plan to ask them their secret. When the weather is ¨cold¨, many do let the coffee heat up a little bit after adding all the water. They are all adament that one must drink hot things when it is cold outside. And Lord knows, if the temperature dips below 75, one could catch a chill!

Boiled Green Bananas/Plantains, Verduras: I don´t have much to say about these because mostly they just make me sad. They´re flavorless, heavy, and always fail to absorb any of the flavor of what they are cooked with. I can eat more of them now than I used to be able to, but I´ll never be able to wolf down 8 or more in a row like my buddies here in QP. While their lackluster flavor is a downer, what´s worse is how they cook them.

To prepare: Peel and cut bananas lengthwise. (Peeling these suckers makes your hands splotchy and burny. Be careful!) Throw what seems like an impossible amount in the largest pot you have. Add water until bananas are covered. Lay a plastic bag over everything. Yes, a plastic bag. Boil for 45 minutes to two hours, depending on how much you feel like doddling, and how much of a mush factor you´d like.

I know. Cooking with a plastic bag. They insist this is the only way to get the bananas to cook through, and proudly explain the function of the bag when asked. I prefer not to consider what sort of chemicals could be leached into my food with this method, and frankly, I don´t care. Sometimes, in terms of harmful things that are introduced to my body on a daily basis, this is the least of my concerns.

Rice: Until recently, I thought white rice was one of the only foods that consistently escaped the snap-crackle-pop of the ubiquitous cooking oil. Then my host mom told me I was cooking it wrong. I left out an important first step. One must begin by frying the hard, uncooked rice in some left over oil, you see. Stir occasionally for 5 minutes and cook as normal.

I am not sure what effect this really has. The rice tastes the same to me, but I guess I have a lot to learn. My pallete isn´t yet fine-tuned to all the delicate flavor notes rice and other starches can have.

While there are some foods that I´ll never love (cold, ground sardines with coffee at 6:30 in the morning), my new diet has resulted in a new-found affection for the foods I do enjoy. For example, a plate of boiled yucca and a hard-boiled egg makes me absolutely giddy. A plate of fried rice with a spinachy plant they call callaloo is my new favorite comfort food. And lentils, of course, they will never know how much I love them.

I´ll move into my own house sometime in January, and I plan to plant my own vegetable garden. Dozens of veggies grow well here, it´s a shame more people don´t take advantage. Other volunteers have had some success in leading by example with their own vegetable gardens and encouraging others to do the same. They couple their efforts with some nutrition charlas, and some seed packets to get started, and many community members follow their lead. I also look forward to infusing some traditional dishes with some good flavor and nutrients when I live alone. Stay tuned because I expect you all to help me brainstorm recipes.