Christmas in more ways than just presents

I believe that every adventure has a defining moment. The moment that everyone who was involved will always remember. They could remember it in a fond or a negative way, but they remember all the same. I had my defining moment.

We traveled from Honduras to Nicaragua's tourism hub, Grenada. The city is dusted with colorfully painted houses that look quite simple from the street, then open up into grand centralized gardens and living areas. Grenada is a place that you have to try very hard not to like. The people (for the most part) are very friendly and the sights and sounds are mesmerizing. Our hotel was located on the main tourist drag that connected the city center to the lake. The first day we took a tour to check out all of the volcanoes and crater lakes that dust the landscape. They were interesting, but the tour was a full day of just looking at vistas and big holes in the ground. By the end, I was read to get back to town.
I had been traveling with most of my travel partners for quite a while. At some point I had promised a Christmas dinner cooked by me. There were only a few days left before Christmas and people were calling my bluff. Fortunately, the guy who led us on our tour was also a cook for the restaurant across the street from our hotel. I consulted him for advice on the best places to buy product. The issue was that we were not going to be in Grenada for Christmas, we were in the lake island called Ometepe. Cooking dinner for everybody would have been vastly more simple in Grenada than Ometepe. There are modern grocery stores and a huge market daily. Our hotel in Ometepe was a bumpy, one and a half hour long bus ride from anywhere. So, I had to buy everything that I needed for the dinner in Grenada. The produce for the meal was not an issue. There were some very nice root vegetable available in the market as well as some very good fresh goat cheese and other essentials. The rest I bought at a modern grocery store on the edge of town.
So, at this point, I have all of the side dishes planned, ideas for the sauces and dessert. Now for the meat. Once again, my mouth gets me into trouble. Apparently I promised to do a whole pig. I am not sure what I was thinking all I can say is that is was during my birthday celebrations that I promised all of this.
I found a guy in the market who said that he could get me a live pig if I wanted it. I wanted it live because I don't think that there is a cooler in all of Central America large enough to hold a large pig and ice. So, live it would have to be. How do I get a live pig on a two hour bus ride, then and hour ferry, then an hour and a half bumpy bus ride, then kill and butcher. The whole idea sounded like a nightmare and not worth the trouble. I had pretty much written off the whole idea and was prepared to just go and buy some chicken. Then Mauricio told me that he had one guy that he could call on Ometepe who may be able to get a pig there. Nesto is our savior's name. He told Mauricio that he had two baby pigs. Perfect!! Less cooking time, more skin, and more tender meat. We had a pig.
I decided that the best way to do them would be Hawaiian Lua style. Build a fire add rocks, top the rocks with banana leaves, add the pig, top with banana leaves top with dirt and let it go. Simple. I planned the rest of the meal as well. We were to have suckling pig, goat cheese, bacon, and caramelized onion potato gratin, rice and beans, roasted beets and carrots with rum glaze, and dulce de leche rice pudding for dessert. For those who did not want to eat pork there was banana leaf wrapped tilapia.
Everything was set. We arrived in Ometepe with product in hand ready for dinner for our group of 17 and possibly a few more stragglers. Nesto came to pick us up from the ferry and assured me that everything was taken care of on his end. The pig was at the butcher, the wood and banana leaves were in a truck waiting for the pig, all was to be delivered at seven the following morning. We had a fisherman delivering the fish in the morning as well. No problem. I was confident and ready. So confident that when I ran into Sarah, my tour leader in Mexico, and her group of fourteen women and one man, to join us for dinner. So, double the size of the party the night before, on an island in the middle of a lake in Nicaragua . I was so confident that I proceeded to continue my daily Nicaraguan ritual of consuming copious amounts of rum the night before.
3 am, I awoke with a rumbling in my stomach. Four hours and many trips to the bathroom later. I was fully immersed in my first case of food poisoning of my travels. I had to meet Nesto and my Sous Chef Jamie at 7. After a few hours I realized that this was not just a passing upset stomach, but there was work to be done. I drug myself off of the bathroom floor, showered and sat and waited for everybody to get up. Jamie met me at 7, right on time. Yet no Nesto. 7:30, 8, 8:30 no Nesto. Finally at ten, Nesto showed with not two suckling pigs, but one 70 pound pig. Great, the cooking time just doubled and the pig arrived three hours late. I am as sick as I have ever been, forcing fluids and trying to tell Jamie exactly how to make the food for which I had no recipes. Ten hours before service I started the fire that was to heat the rocks that were to cook this pig that was double the size that I had expected. Although, I really didn't want to disappoint them, I knew that my group would understand. Sarah's group was another story. I really did not want fourteen women in my case about ruining their Christmas and stealing one of their nights in Grenada.
Jamie and I rang the dinner bell at 8:30. We gathered everyone around the mound of dirt that was to be my greatest culinary triumph or my greatest failure. There was no heat coming from the mound. As we dug into the dirt, it got hotter and hotter. When we first uncovered the banana leaves I knew that all of my fears were unfounded. The pig was literally falling apart. Apart from a little dirt, it was some of the most delicious pork some of the people had ever tasted. My stomach was still not right. I didn't eat any of it. Some told me that it was their favorite Christmas meal ever. For me it was my favorite meal I have ever cooked. It was an opportunity to create an experience that people would never forget.
We finished the night exchanging gifts, drinking rum and dancing. Of course our families were on our minds, but it lessened the pain of being so far away. It was an experience that I will never forget and would not exchange for any reason.


Until next time,

Vagabond

PS. The people who did not get enough credit for the dinner were Mauricio, Nesto and most of all Jamie. Thank you all for helping me create an experience that I will never forget.

PPS. I am way behind on my blog. Sorry. My next post will be a synopsis of the places that I have visited to this point without too much description so that I am able to catch up.