Food & Drink
There have been many opportunities to try new food and drink items here... or to try variations on thing we've tried in the past. Most things are fairly benign; nobody eats dog here.
Recently, I tried a warm drink called Wahbool. It was made from a sour fruit called Nances. In Miskito is something like Crahbool Wahbool. (I promise that is what I heard) The drink was offered to me at Mama Tara's one afternoon and I just couldn't say no without being extremely rude.
Most people don't really like the warm Wahbool. Imagine drinking a thick soup outside in hot, humid weather. Unpleasant aesthetically. And yet, I did enjoy the taste and I drank as much as I could. :)
I've had a similar type of drink made from corn and one made from platanos. Most of the time, they are sweet enough that I can smile and drink up.
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Last night, our landlord had a sheep delivered out back. This morning, the poor animal was butchered and the meat prepared to be flown to the interior of Honduras. It was unnerving for me to have the animal back there hanging out with my kids and then for it to be gone.
We realized something this morning. In the States, we are sufficiently separated from actual butchering and from knowing an animal before slaughter. We really don't have to even think about the details of how the animal got into the grocery store freezer or refrigerator section.
What a nice thing.
Recently, I tried a warm drink called Wahbool. It was made from a sour fruit called Nances. In Miskito is something like Crahbool Wahbool. (I promise that is what I heard) The drink was offered to me at Mama Tara's one afternoon and I just couldn't say no without being extremely rude.
Most people don't really like the warm Wahbool. Imagine drinking a thick soup outside in hot, humid weather. Unpleasant aesthetically. And yet, I did enjoy the taste and I drank as much as I could. :)
I've had a similar type of drink made from corn and one made from platanos. Most of the time, they are sweet enough that I can smile and drink up.
_______
Last night, our landlord had a sheep delivered out back. This morning, the poor animal was butchered and the meat prepared to be flown to the interior of Honduras. It was unnerving for me to have the animal back there hanging out with my kids and then for it to be gone.
We realized something this morning. In the States, we are sufficiently separated from actual butchering and from knowing an animal before slaughter. We really don't have to even think about the details of how the animal got into the grocery store freezer or refrigerator section.
What a nice thing.
Comments
Growing up "on da farm" my dad had a STRICT rule that I was NEVER to give a NAME to the "slaughter steer". Don't you love that terminology? In fact, ALL contact between the steer and myself was highly discouraged.
Someday, maybe I will make a list of the rules farm girls had that my "city" friends could never relate to. :)