We have seen all kinds of cool critters here in Costa Rica. And we’ve even managed to get pictures of a few of ’em.
You’ve most likely already seen the kind I’m showing you today – I know I have. But the thing that makes these different here is that there are swarms of them. They’re everywhere. All I had to do was hold still long enough in one spot and wait for one to land.
I love dragonflies. I think they’re absolutely beautiful. And this one was no exception. Oh, and it doesn’t hurt that they eat mosquitoes, which practically makes them my best friends.
As promised, Erin will share the rest of our weekend adventures later today.
After over a week and a half of nonstop Noah’s Ark-style rain, the sun finally came out to play over the weekend, and Katie and I were hellbent on soaking up every single second of it.
Our original gameplan was to take off to the beach since we hadn’t yet been despite the fact that we’ve lived here for over a month. (And, yes, we’re well aware of how pathetic that is. Thank you.) However, our ride fell through at the last minute leaving us high and dry without anything to do on a beautiful Saturday, so, naturally, we decided to horn in on the guys’ plans.
Homesick for some authentic American grub, Aaron, JJ and Matt had done some internet sleuthing and found a Tex-Mex restaurant located a few towns over. Their plan was to spend the afternoon there watching college football, talking smack, giving each other noogies and whatever else guys do when chicks aren’t around.
Fortunately, they let us tag along and after an easy 45-minute drive through scenic countryside to the town of Tilaran, we found ourselves at 5 Corners Grill, a beachy little gem of a restaurant situated on a hill overlooking sprawling Lake Arenal. Once there, we proceeded to spend the next sixhours gorging ourselves on burgers and beer and hanging out with Jason and Cindy, the amazingly cool Austin, TX, couple who owns the joint.
A candid shot of Jason. Cindy was wily enough to dodge me.
Despite having been open for less than a year, 5 Corners has a comfortable, well-established quality and loyal following of friendly regulars, many of whom are ex-pats themselves. From the open-air patio bar with live trees growing right through the floor…
…to the Chicken Shit Bingo (which is exactly what you’re imagining it is) board and live scorpion on display in the breezeway…
I assume they put this down your pants and make you dance around for 10 minutes if you try to leave without paying.
…to the small garden and chicken coop located out back and assortment of squirmy, wiggly, disgustingly cute puppies of varying sizes and shapes milling about the premises, there is no shortage of interests to hold your attention.
Don’t get us wrong–Katie and I have been thoroughly enjoying the Costa Rican experience, but we had to admit that the smattering of Longhorns and Dallas Cowboys paraphernalia decorating the windows and good ol’ fashioned burger and fries were a pleasantly familiar taste of home sweet home.
This burger made my toes curl. Don’t even ask what the bananas foster for dessert did to me.
By the end of the day, we were a few colones lighter, a few pounds heavier, and a few anecdotes richer (stay tuned, more on that tomorrow).
For anyone who happens to be passing through Tilaran or visiting the Lake Arenal area, I highly–highly–recommend this place. No need to even thank me.
Before you get too excited, no, we are not going to California.
We are in Costa Rica right now, people. Why would we go to California??
The title of this post will make more sense later. Moving on.
Recently I’ve realized that aside from this:
And these:
One of the things I’ve absolutely missed the most while living in Costa Rica is cooking. And I’m not even that good at it. It was just fun to do. Therapeutic, even. Man, I feel sorry for anyone who has to live with me when I don’t have my cooking outlet *cough*Erin*cough*.
Even though Judy has graciously offered us the use of her gorgeous kitchen (which I hope to show you at some point), the budget constraints that Erin and I have placed on ourselves have limited our main course dinners to primarily beans, rice, potatoes, or some combination thereof.* We’re not missing out on our starches here, folks.
Anyway. I was going through my hard drive and found some photos of recipes I haven’t yet posted. Whoah. I had forgotten all about them. And they instilled feelings in me – feelings I haven’t felt in a long, long time.
So I’m going to share one with you today. This is one of my all-time favorite summer/fall recipes. And even though it’s meatless, it’s completely appropriate for company. Even big, burly man-type company has always devoured this dish. I don’t know why, and I don’t question it. It’s simple and delicious.
The original recipe makes actual sandwiches, but I prefer to serve these open-faced. You can find the original here.
California Grilled Veggie Sandwich
To make these (the way I make ’em), you will need:
Olive oil or balsamic vinegar (If I grill the veggies, I use olive oil. If I sauté ’em, I use balsamic vinegar.)
1 medium zucchini, sliced
1-2 small yellow squash, sliced
1/2 small red onion, sliced
1 red bell pepper, sliced (sometimes I leave this off – it looks pretty, but there are already more than enough veggie toppings without them)
1/4 cup mayo
3-4 cloves of garlic, minced
1 Tbsp. lemon juice
1/2 cup crumbled feta cheese
Thickly sliced sourdough bread
Once you have your ingredients together, it’s time to get messy:
1. Slice up all your veggies.
2. I often use an indoor grill to cook my veggies. I grease the grates with olive oil and preheat it around medium-high. For a less-tedious method, I sometimes saute the veggies with a little bit of balsamic vinegar. Really, you can cook them any old way you want. Just get them cooking!
3. While the veggies are cooking, mix together your mayo, garlic and lemon juice and spread evenly onto 2 large pieces of the sourdough bread. Then sprinkle on some feta cheese.
4. If you’re grilling your vegetables, check to see if the first side is done. If it is, flip ’em on over.
4. You can wait until your veggies are done cooking and re-use the indoor grill, or if you’re impatient like me, go ahead and get your grill pan oiled heating on the stove over medium heat. Place your slices of sourdough bread on the grill pan, then cover it with some type of lid. The goal is to get the feta cheese nice and melty. (It’s not going to actually melt into a goo – but it should get nice and soft.) This will also toast the bread.
5. If your veggies get done cooking a little early, just set them aside in a bowl and cover to keep warm.
6. Once the bread is toasty and the cheese is melty, top the slices with your grilled veggies and enjoy!
I know they don’t look like much, but there’s something about this mixture of toppings that makes these taste phenomenal. Even Erin, who purportedly “hates” mayo, will gobble up these sandwiches. If you try them, let me know what you think!
*Correction: We usually do eat some combination of beans and/or rice for dinner. However, sometimes our completely awesome boss makes a kickass meal and generously shares it with us. He is a fantastic cook and we are ALWAYS grateful when he shares his masterpieces with us.
So far, the rainy season in Costa Rica has been, uh, rainy. Really rainy.
In fact, with a recent line of tropical storms stopping by to dump inches of the stuff on us every day for the past week, the locals are calling this one of the worst rainy seasons they’ve seen in while.
And while Costa Rica’s storms are beautiful in their own way, the constant, monotonous downpour has left everyone in the office feeling a little waterlogged.
So it was a truly joyous occasion when an unexpected visitor showed up to join us on our walk to work this morning.
Sun! Glorious sun!
It broke through the low ceiling of clouds and a chorus of angels began singing.
Okay, actually it was us singing–and badly–but still.
We shamelessly belted out our anthems of appreciation:
Blue skiiiies smiling at meeee.
I’m walking on sunshiiiiine!
Here comes the sun, doo do doo dooo.
As we walked, we turned up our faces, spread our arms wide and basked in it like little flowers.
Even our shadows came out to see what all the commotion was about.
They were pretty happy, too.
And sweat ‘staches be damned, the hot rays felt oh so nice on our pasty skin.
Ninety-nine bottles of sauce… Take one out, pass it about…
Wait! We just put those in there.
Okay. Many of you have probably been wondering just what the heck we’ve been doing with our time during the day here in Costa Rica. How do we earn our keep in this beautiful place?
Well, I’ve mentioned before that we came here primarily to work for an up-and-coming, family-owned hot sauce company called Chile Town. We knew before we arrived that there would be some office work involved, including writing press releases and blog posts for the company website. We also knew that we would potentially be making some of the sauce itself.
What we didn’t know is what, exactly, making hot sauce entailed.
It starts with the chile peppers, most of which are grown and hand-picked right here on the property.
Without giving away too many trade secrets before the sauce gets released to the U.S., I will say that some of the hottest peppers in the world are grown and used right here. For that reason, caution must be used even during the picking-process. Notice the gloves. You don’t dare touch your eyes or exposed skin after handling hot peppers.
At this point some type of magic happens and the peppers are somehow washed, seeded, and mashed up into what we call… well mash. By the way, at Chile Town each individual hot sauce uses an individual type of chile pepper – unlike many other hot sauces, which just use an extract to bring the heat, the sauces we’re helping to make here actually use the heat and flavor that come directly from the chile variety itself. So a mild(er) sauce like the one called La Muñeca (“The Doll”) uses a less-spicy variety of pepper (yellow scotch bonnet) than the sauce called Bandito (“The Bandit”), which uses orange habaneros.
It’s all very scientific.
And if you think habaneros are spicy, some of the Chile Town sauces get even hotter than that!
*By the way, thanks to Becs for taking most of the following photos. My gloved and mash-covered fingers were not about to get anywhere near my beloved camera. Or my hair, apparently, which is a mess. Apologies.
So what we end up with is this mash.
Appetizing, no?
Of course, the color/consistency vary depending on the type of pepper we’re using. These are smoked jalapeños for the smoky Don Fuego (“Fire Boss”) sauce.
The first part of this entire process is really just basic cooking – we mix all the ingredients according to Aaron’s (aka “The Mayor’s”) top secret recipes and stick ’em on the stove to simmer.
Here’s where it gets tricky. Once all the ingredients are partying together in the pot and the sauce starts to thicken up, it’s time to blend. This ensures a smoother, even consistency and that all of the flavors are truly melded to perfection.
The problem? An industrial-sized blender, Aaron owns not.
So we use the small one. Again, and again. And again.
I’ll admit that this is probably the scariest part of the process for me. I mean – you have this substance that is 2 kinds of hot – temperature and spicy – so if the blender decides to say… I don’t know… blow up in your face, you’re seriously burned. Heat burned and heat burned. Not pretty. I’ve caught a splatter or two to know.
So we try to use the utmost precaution, especially during this phase of sauce production.
Once everything is blended, it goes back in the pot and back on the heat. This time it needs to get to a certain (extremely hot) temperature before it can be bottled. The goal is to have everything nice and evenly cooked to the desired level of thickness.
Aaron’s stove takes a beating.
While the sauce is cooking, we need to wash bottles. Lots and lots of bottles.
And of course, since no one wants to buy empty hot sauce bottles, we need to fill ’em.
This step is a tid bit precarious, but it’s nothing we can’t handle.
We are sauce-making machines.
No thanks to this punk, who didn’t even bother to watch.
Once they cool a bit, we add the seals and labels. Eventually, they look like this:
Pretty groovy, huh?
Ironically, the most stressful part of the process is after all the sauce is made and we’re cleaning out the pots. When the cold water hits the warm hot sauce remnants, the noxious chile fumes somehow get set off and I’m thrown into an ugly, hacking and sneezing fit. It ain’t pretty.
And while Erin’s superior writing/editing skills have since earned her a place back in the air-conditioned office, I really don’t mind toiling over a steaming hot chile pepper concoction several days a week. A true sense of accomplishment accompanies every seal of every lid; and while I dread the potential day when Aaron opens a bottle of sauce I made from one of his recipes and, God forbid, something just doesn’t taste quite right, I will at least savor the experience until that time.
Even though all of the bottles that eventually get sold in the U.S. will have been made to exact specifications in a factory by qualified professionals, I know I will smile every time I see one because I am now a first-hand witness to just some of the frustration, sweat, and determination that goes into creating a product.
Three weeks ago, I wrote a rambling list of thoughts while shivering on the couch in a sweaty, disoriented haze during The Most Heinous Sinus Infection Ever Recorded in the History of the World, Period.
Ok, maybe I’m exaggerating, but not–if I may utilize my stellar Spanish skills–by mucho.
Anyway, after the sinus infection spent the weekend torturing me and then pushed me out the back of its tinted-window van Monday morning, I was so positively elated to be over the ordeal, I forgot all about the list.
Until today.
And since I’ve had a major case of writers’ block this past week (hence the lack of posts), I figure a half-coherent list of musings is still better than anything else I could come up with right now.
So, bon appetit!
1. Why is it always that the song in which I only know five words is the one song I have stuck in my head all day long? This constant repetition of the first two lines of “La Cucaracha” is greatly diminishing my quality of life.
2. At what point are you too old to have ice cream cake on your birthday? Because I would like to be euthanized before that age.
3. Is there a more awkward situation than standing on the outskirts of a group photo and not knowing whether you’re in the frame or not? Seriously, do you squeeze in and smile, stand where you are and awkwardly pose, or just get the hell out of there?
Decisions, decisions…
4. I will consider myself at the pinnacle of social self-mastery when I am finally able to refrain from the knee-jerk response “You too!” when waiters tell me to enjoy my meal.
5. Why do I always panic and suddenly forget my phone number when someone asks for it?
6. I’m one of those people who unintentionally creates my own bastardized language by combining words that are similar in meaning. Like, one time, an old boss once asked me to do something and instead of saying “No problem” or “You’re welcome”, I responded with “No, your problem.”
7. If I drop my keys on the ground, I’m more willing to believe it’s because they are spiteful things hellbent on making me look stupid in public than the fact that I might just be clumsy.
8. Carrots are a vegetable that nobody really has a strong opinion on, but everyone has an opinion on carrot cake.
Fun History Fact: 30 percent of our nation’s wars has been caused by conflicting views on carrot cake.
9. Does the sound of a slide whistle automatically bring perverted images to everyone else’s mind too, or is it just me?
10. The following things are unforgivably creepy to me: porcelain doll collections, velvet paintings of sad-eyed clowns or children, mannequins with faces and/or nipples, and ventriloquist dummies. If I am over at your house and I see any of the above, I will immediately assume you lured me here to make a coat out of my skin.
Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
11. Whenever I don’t want to clean a dish, I’ll leave it in the sink. Later, if I come back around and it’s still in there, I’ll get mad that someone didn’t wash it. What, do I have to do everything around here?
12. To me, there are very few life situations for which “Woot woot!”or “Dang.” is not an acceptable response.
13. One of the questions I always ask myself is, if I had a twin who talked and acted exactly like me, how long would it take before I wanted her dead?
14. It’s amazing how easily anyone can give off a completely psychotic vibe. If you don’t believe me, next time you’re out walking in public, start swinging your arms in unison with your legs and see if people don’t look at you like you just stepped off the mothership.
(Disclaimer: If any or all of the above statements made absolutely no sense to you, let’s just blame it on the fact that I was heavily medicated at the time and never speak of this post again. Deal?)
I wanted to have a post ready for you about what I do during many of my waking hours here in Costa Rica (and no, contrary to popular belief, it wasn’t about this). But as I was going through some of the pictures on my hard drive, I ran across some that slapped me with my first real dose of homesickness.
I snapped these just before we left for Costa Rica.
I think they knew I was leaving.
And their very demeanor made me feel bad about it.
You’d think they were raised Catholic or something.
The guilt was palpable.
Clearly, my mistake was taking photos of the moment. Because now I have to admit how much I miss Mara’s mitten paws.
And Capone’s curly tail.
Looking at these now, I have to ask myself, were they trying to make me feel guilty on purpose?
We’ve been in Costa Rica for over a month now. The halfway mark has come and gone, and every day it seems like someone finds a way to remind me of how soon we’ll be leaving.
And as that time gets closer, I find that I’m looking for something – anything – to prove to myself that all this has been worthwhile. All the questions I’ve had to answer, all the explaining I’ve had to do, quitting my job, leaving my family… What during this experience has changed in me for the better?
Yesterday at the grocery store we debated. We held the familiar bottle of Bacardi Gold in one hand and the seemingly-exotic Cortez in the other and judged.
Do we go with what we know? Our good ol’ communist friend Bacardi? Or do we take a chance and opt for the not-too-expensive-but-not-the-bargain-but-practical-middle-of-the-road-local-flava?
Okay, so Cortez isn’t local. The bottle says, “Ron superior de Panama.” So it’s rum from Panama? My Spanish is already improving. Go me.
But the bottle is in Spanish, which makes it seem a bit more authentic, no? And while we can’t hide my pasty white thighs or Erin’s bright auburn hair in this town, we can certainly try to drink like the locals.
Or at least that was our reasoning at 7:07 last night.
But today?
Today I know I can most definitely not drink like the locals.
I think the Avett Brothers said it best:
When I drink… I spend the next morning in a haze… But we only get so many daaaays Now I have one less.
