Gallo Pinto, Cebollas, y Platanos Fritos

This is the Comida Typica trilogy for Nicaragua in my book. The thing I will remember most about the cuisine in Nicaragua is the use of onion--usually fresh, sometimes pickled, and less often sauteed, in all savory food. Onions in green salads are sliced very thin, and add a brightness of flavor that I am going to incorporate into my repetoire when composing salads. I use alot of red onion and scallions, but the lowly yellow onion will have a more prominent role in future salad creations. The pico de gallo in Nicaragua is equal parts onion and tomato, with a small amount of jalapeno for heat--the Nicas are not big on spicy and so the onion flavor appears to be more highly valued than the Scoville heat scale. I have to say, I like a little more spice than is the norm in Nicaragua but the emphasis on onion was something I would like to learn from and incorporate into my cooking. Finally, pickled vegeatbles that are 1/2 or more onion slices are prevalent and delicious.

The traditional rice and beans of Nicaragua is a variation on a theme--somewhere between the red beans and rice of Cajun cooking and the Morros y Christianos of Cuban fame. The Nica dish has less liquid than the former, and the same consistency as the later but a different color. The Nicaraguans like their rice drier than is my taste, but as so often happens, after returning from Latin America rice and beans will make a resurgence in our household diet. Gallo pinto is made using the method for cooking Refried Beans (December 9, 2009 post) but with red beans instead of pintos and the beans are left whole--the beans are removed from the cooking liquid with a slotted spoon and mixed with equal parts rice--so just enough liquid to color the rice, nothing more--then molded into a bowl, the bowl inverted on a plate, and served with a dollop of onion-heavy pico de gallo.

Musings on Relaxation in San Juan del Sur

I am not at all good at traditional relaxation. I am a rock star at the relaxation that comes in everyday life. I am able to savor the small pleasures. Simple charms and nuances bring immeasurable pleasure to me on a daily basis, and as I age, I feel increasingly blessed that I am able to focus (much of the time) on the good. There is plenty to be unhappy about in the world. The longer we live, the more true that becomes. However, it is what it is, and to dwell on what could have been is a recipe for disaster. I seem to be a bit drawn to the chaotic side of life, so it is merely a survival technique to focus on the good in a situation. Make lemonade out of lemons. But to actually aim at luxury and indulgence? That is not a skill I have managed expertise in.

We were pointed in the direction of the Pacific coast of Nicaragua by both natives and former visitors for a scenic and enjoyable vacation, but I was initially dismissive of a beach town. I love the ocean, but not the salt, the sun, or the sand. Could I, despite my drawbacks, really enjoy the finer points of a great view, delicious seafood, and the distinctive aromatic smells of the ocean, despite my fair skin and generally restless nature? Happily, the answer is occasionally 'yes'.

The Piedras y Olas hotel in San Juan del Sur is a memorable hotel, one of the very best for luxury that I have been in. The only close rival that I have been to is the Serengeti Migration Camp in Tanzania: http://www.africauncovered.com/photos/tanzania/tanzania/serengeti-migration-camp/1916/. At 5 times the cost. Maybe even considered cheating, since the Serengeti is so spectacular to begin with that the natural attributes of the place make it both unique and non-reproducible. In any case, this is a place for 'getting away'--just so long as you are comfortable speaking Spanish, because this is the first time I have been anywhere so clearly catering to a Western crowd that had not a person who spoke to us in English--which is not to say someone couldn't do it, but as always, we list towards what is easiest to manage rather than what is possible. So while it is possible that some of the staff could manage well in English, no one attempted to say a word of it to us, despite our clear foreign appearance and dialogue. So, si habla espanol, venga aqui. Me encanta San Juan del Sur.

Nicaraguan Pottery

We traveled to San Juan de Oriente to meet with Jose Ortiz and watch some of the town's potters working. The town is world reknowned for the spectacular pottery produced here--you cannot sit in an outdoor cafe without being offered numerous pots for incredibly reasonable prices.

We did not trek out to one of the Pueblo Blancos so much to save money as to see the source of the ceramics. Jake had been to the town on several occasions and we started with an upscale potter's house. The kiln was on the prominently placed in the entrance of the courtyard, and a woman was working on a pot right next to several tables full of gorgeous finished pieces of ceramic art.

From there we went to Jose Ortiz' studio--he was painting a mural in Granada but his wife, Angela, greeted us and it was really fun to talk with her, see Jose's work, and be met as a friend. My Spanish is rudimentary in a lot of ways, but it is definitely good enough to listen, comprehend, and talk with people in this situation to the level that my personality comes through loud and clear (for better or worse).

From there Angela took us to a women's ceramic cooperative (where we saw Mauricio working the potter's wheel--Angela smiled and said they do not exclude men). We watched the whole process--different pots were at various stages of completion, and it was great to see how the final product was assembled. This is definitely a place to come back to on a return trip--easily accessible from either Managua or Grenada.

Nicaraguan Painting

The artisanal culture in general and naive painting specifically is alive and well in Nicaragua. The Mercado Viejo in Masaya is a great place to experience it in a sensory overload, all you can manage in one sitting sort of manner. Joel and Jake are pictured in front of this mural in the market depicting the town of Masaya--I included the picture with them in it to give a sense of the scale of the painting. It's huge, with dozens of sub-scenes contained within it. There are parades, masks, intrigue, religion, superstition, and bucolic campesino life all in one wall.

I love Nicaraguan paintings and I was not dissapointed by what I found in Masaya. The paintings are very evocative of the place that they depict. The colors are vivid. The church is a prominent feature. Often there are volcanoes in the background--Nicaragua has five volcanoes, Mombacho being the one closest to Masaya, but there are two on the island of Ometepe in Lake Nicaragua that would be closer to the Solentiname Island artist colony where many of these painters live, made famous by the revolutionary turned priest and sculptor, Ernesto Cardinal. There are fincas everywhere. The ubiquitous school-buses-turned-chicken-buses are often featured. A cow here and a goat there (there is not what you would call factory farming much in evidence here). Nicas in the fields working are another common feature--the paintings transport you to the place they are from. Warm places, warm people, a primitive life.

Nicaraguan Color

The most distinctive thing about Nicaragua is the color. Every town explodes with color. There is nothing subtle about entering a Nicaraguan town. No earth tones and blending in with the surrounding topography. They are not followers of the Frank Lloyd Wright melt-seamlessly-into-your-surroundings philosophy. When I saw a Sherwin-Williams store in what amounted to a barrio, it did not seem out of place. These people need paint. It is for sustenance. The climate in Nicaragua is such that people live essentially outdoors. Many houses lack windows, and some do not have a real door or even interior walls--the rooms are open into a courtyard. But they are all painted and the brighter the color the better. I asked alot of people about the origins of this custom, but got no answers.

So, I wonder, what does color say about a culture? Not just that black represents death in Western culture, but is a symbol of honor in Japan, but what does an array of colorful buildings say about the people of those towns? Because it is not just one or two houses, it is whole blocks of houses, and the effect is not the San Francisco, ticky-tacky pastel houses. These houses are vibrant and compelling. The effect on me is one of festiveness. I notice an uplifting of spirit, an expectation that I will enjoy myself. In my own home, everything is a variation on off-white. Slightly yellow would be a huge leap for me. But in the hands of others I enjoy it.

Colonial Architecture in Granada

Granada looks like both a Nicaraguan town and a Spanish Colonial town. The combination is very appealing, and almost every travel advertisement for Nicaragua has a picture of the cathedral in Granada. But the thing I like best is the array of colors in the other buildings on the Plaza Central--from the outside building colors to the interior tile floors that are remarkably cheerful.

This is probably not a legacy of colonialism--Nicaragua has had a long history of civil war, up into the late 20th century. As the United States has been integral in the political warfare (literally), it is remarkable how welcoming the country is for visiting Norteamericanos. Generally we try to appear Canadian, no matter where we travel. Often it works.

The tile floor in the cathedral reminds me of quilt patterns--this one is close to the Whig Rose, which is a quilt I made about ten years ago in almost exactly these colors. I was not able to do much of it on this trip, but if I were to return, a photo essay of tile floors in public settings throughout the country would be a project I would enjoy.

Granada, Nicaragua

Landing in Managua after being in near-zero degree weather conditions is like being on the receiving end of a blast from a super-heated air gun. Not humid, but very warm. The airport is efficient and modern, but the swell of people outside the secured areas, numbering 10 for every one arriving passenger, reminds you immediately that you are in Latin America. Even though no one was there to greet us, it felt warm and welcoming.
We were soon on the road to our first destination--Granada, on the banks of Lake Colciboca (more commonly called Lake Nicaragua, the second largest lake in Latin America, and the 16th largest in the world--big, in other words). Granada was started in it's current incantation in 1524 by Francisco Hernández de Córdoba, the "founder" of Nicaragua (no doubt the indigenous population would see it differently). The city has a colonial layout, with a central square that continues to look both colonial, and uniquely Nicaraguan at the same time. The buildings are all painted traditionally bright Nicaraguan colors--yellow, pink, red, green, and blue hues abound. It is here that our journey through southern Nicaragua begins.

We stayed at an opulent colonial style hotel, named for the famed Nicaraguan poet, Rubén Darío (the hotel is pictured above, and our room is in the second photo, the door on the left). The woodwook and tile floors alone give the place a grand aura. The irony of the name was initially lost on us, but Darío is from Leon, the "other" colonial city in Nicaragua, and he never spent much time in Granada. Leon is the liberal city and Granada is the conservative one, and Darío certainly had politics that leaned towards his hometown. Granada became the more prosperous of the two cities once the Spaniards realized that the San Juan River was navigable to the Gulf of Mexico, and other than a 20 mile isthmus of land between the Pacific and Lake Nicaragua, a passage between the oceans is quite conceivable. Why this didn't become the canal seems perplexing having seen both the Panamanian and Nicaraguan sites.