Yup, that’s right. This smoothie bowl is packed full of a rainbow’s-worth of healthy goodness and enough fiber to give you the bowel movement of your dreams.
You see here in the Peace Corps, we deal with a lot of panza (belly) issues. Whether it’s a parasite that’s found it’s way into the potable water from last night’s big rain storm or some questionable greasy street food that’s been sitting out too long (I see you empanada and chicharron lovers), we, the proud Peace Corps Volunteers of Costa Rica, have all been there.
And by there I mean on the toilet…for a long time.
It’s been a hot minute since I’ve had a random, never-seen-before, questionable looking fruit shoved in my face, but last night it happened again.
It was almost as if Carlos went out of his way to find me and ask me if I had ever had a zapote before.
“A za what?” I said
His eyes lit with excitement as he realized he would be the one to serve this gringa her first zapote ever.
And for good reason because it was so tasty. It was this tender, not-too-sweet fruit that tasted expensive and classy JUST like a fig yet soft and hearty like a cooked squash. I truly thought that I had seen and tasted all that there is to offer in Fila Naranjo after 16 months of living here, but this land is still full of surprises.
Mamón Chino aka Rambutan aka some sort of cousin of the Lychee
Those were the best days, am I right? Waking up to all the smells of all the foods and sleepily making your way down to the kitchen only to find the dining table completely set. Everything’s warming in the oven and the only thing that’s missing is you. Continue reading →
When I was just 13-years-old, I got my first job working at an Italian Restaurant right down the street from our home in cute little downtown Delafield, Wisconsin.
Coming from a family with a lot of people and not a lot of money, I always wanted a job so I could have my own cash in my own pocket; even if that meant working after school, on the weekends, and in between basketball and track practices.
I distinctly remember the first time I ever tried kombucha.
It was five years ago while I was living in Wisconsin. I was in the grocery store and was immediately sold on the look of the Synergy bottle that promised to reawaken, rebirth, repurpose, and redefine.
When I got to the car, I twisted the top off, took my first sip and spit it out without hesitation. It tasted rancid and vinegary…like it was some sort of tea that had turned so bad it had started to ferment (I guess there’s some truth to the fermentation part).
I don’t know how or when my hate turned to love but it did. Over time I grew what some people might call an unhealthy obsession with kombucha. I had a kind of “ah-ha” moment when I realized that the vinegary taste and carbonation were natural and suppose to be there. It was like accepting the moldy flavor of blue cheese. Or maybe overtime I just grew a strong affection for all things fermented and vinegary. It’s a mystery.
If you’ve never heard of this kombucha stuff, let me fill you in.
When I first got to my site in Fila Naranjo, I was really trying to work on this whole “integration” thing. I went to church with my host family, I played soccer on Wednesday nights, I worked on a farm, I cooked side-by-side with women in the community kitchen, and I ate everything my host mom cooked for me.
I mean, everything.
Piles of rice, bowls of beans, breads, fried foods, sugar-filled juices, empanadas…all of it.Continue reading →
It’s guayaba season here in Fila Naranjo, which means the trees are full of this fresh, delicious fruit and the grounds are covered in old, mushy, ripe guayabas that have matured and created a soft, slippery, fermented rug that covers all the land here in the beautiful mountains of Costa Rica.
Before coming to Fila Naranjo, I had never had a guayaba (guava) in my life. I had tasted guava juice, guava kombucha, guava flavored jellies and jams, but never had the real deal. Guava kombucha is one of my favorites, I love the floral, unique, semi-acidic flavor of guayaba so when I first spotted a guayaba tree here, I was stoked.
I plucked one straight from the tree in the middle of long, laborious day working at the finca and held it up to my nose for just a minute to breathe in the aroma. It was such a Peace Corps moment. Here I was, working in the fields alongside a group of local women and I stumble upon a fresh fruit tree. How cool is this?! This is why you’re here Tily, for these small beautiful organic moments. I embraced the moment so hard I took a seat under the guava tree and ate 4 guavas. Can you believe it?! Four.
After scarfing down my fill of guayabas, I headed back up to the other side of the finca to find a few ladies doing the same. But it was the weirdest thing, they were all pulling apart the fruit and throwing the middle seeded part onto the ground. I asked one of them if she was throwing out the middle because she didn’t like the texture of the seeds and then…I learned what gusano meant.
Gusano is the Spanish word for worm or maggot. When guayabas turn the slightest bit soft, fruit flies lay their eggs beneath the fruit’s skin and the maggots are born inside and feed on the fruit’s succulent flesh. Continue reading →