Well Guten morgen folks – happy black Friday and start of the Christmas season! I like many of you, gained at least a kilo between my consumption of state-sent buffalo flavored Pringles, camote and sangria and all other food actually related to Thanksgiving. How were all of yours? Now that I’m not a vegetarian any longer, I sincerely hope that your turkeys were as well seasoned as mine. I forgot how delicious those little guys are. But really, I hope you all had a great time and all the cooking went smoothly.
With regards to the hostal and what not, this place was pretty cool. Super isolated, quiet and exotic looking. Hammocks were the preferred form of lounging, and despite how the manager ran around in a leopard print speedo that hung a little too loosely in places, I think I could learn to really like visiting there for a day off or two every once in awhile. We paid the management to use the kitchen to cook our goods but I foolishly imagined that by “kitchen” we were actually going to be indoors in an electricity-powered facility. Nope. We were outside using a stove that was in desperate need of being “cocina-mejoradad.” When I say stove, I use this term liberally. We’re talking more about making a fire with sticks and newspaper and balancing pots and pans on top. Bear Grylls would have been proud. I sautéed some serious chicken, broccoli, potatoes and camote and felt like I was reenacting the original Thanksgiving. Although the Indians probably used a lot less profanity and actually knew how to cook. Anyways, after five hours of preparation, we all sat down, said a toast and saluded to our new lives here. While there was no cranberry sauce or pumpkin pie, I think we did the day justice and I left the table feeling a little tipsy and full to the brim.
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