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PAPAS A LA PAILA – ROASTED POTATOES

potato, recipe, budget, easy, vegetables

Papas a la paila, served with a tossed salad and smothered chicken. photo © Lorraine Caputo

Let’s whip up yet another recipe starring South America’s native tuber, the potato. It can be made quickly in a paila or skillet. Use your imagination to create innumerable variations on this theme.

The best potato to use for this creation is papa chaucha (Solanum phureja), known to English speakers as the yellow creole potato. This dish may, however, be made with any type of small potato.

Serve it with a refreshing tossed salad and, if you wish, chicken, pork or fish.

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potato, Solanum phureja, recipe, budget, easy, vegetables

Papa chaucha. photo © Lorraine Caputo

What is the Papa Chaucha?

Papa chaucha (Solanum phureja) is a small, round potato – about the size of a golf ball. It has a soft-textured flesh. Its skin is thin, so there is no need to peel it.  It cooks rapidly which makes it ideal for throwing together a quick meal.  Papa chaucha also makes a delicious mashed potatoes. Or just eat them boiled. (A local trick is to put the salt in the cooking water – then they are perfectly salted when cooked!)

Unfortunately, Solanum phureia sprouts very quickly, within just a few days of being harvested. To delay (though not stop) this sprouting, keep them in the fridge. Before cooking, cut away any sprouts and dark spots.

Papa chaucha is the Ecuadorian name for this tuber. In Peru, it is called papa amarilla and in Colombia, papa criolla. In Brazilian Portuguese, it is batata amarela.

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PAPAS A LA PAILA – ROASTED POTATOES

potato, recipe, budget, easy, vegetables

The holy trinity of seasonings that make this a delightful side dish: rosemary, thyme and garlic. photo © Lorraine Caputo

Estimated cooking time: 15-20 minutes

For: Vegans, Vegetarians, Carnivores (as a side dish)

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2 tablespoons butter

1 tablespoon olive or other oil

1 large onion, cut into chunks

20 papa chaucha, washed and cut in half

1 large carrot, cut into chunks – optional

salt (to taste)

3 cloves of garlic, peeled and smashed

leaves of 1 short sprig of fresh rosemary (romero), or a large pinch of dried leaves

leaves of several sprigs of fresh thyme (tomillo), or a large pinch of dried leaves

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Cut all the vegetables and place on a large plate or other dish.

Heat a large paila or skillet until hot. Add the butter and oil; melt.

If using carrots, place them in the paila and stir. Cover with a large-enough lid. Stir occasionally.

When the carrots are just beginning to be tender, add the potatoes, onion and garlic. When these are tender, add the salt and herbs. Keep the paila covered, occasionally stirring, until vegetables are tender.

Serve hot.

¡Buen provecho!

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Tips

  • Have all the vegetables cut before beginning to cook. You can add each ingredient at just the right time, and not accidentally burn the food.
  • Butter can be difficult to find in tropical climates. In my opinion, margarine just doesn’t have the same flavor. I would rather use all oil than a margarine-oil combination.
  • Covering the paila or skillet with a lid helps to cook the vegetables faster, and preserve flavors and nutrients.
  • If using another type of small potato, put them in the paila at the same time as the carrots as they will take equally as long to cook.
  • You may add other vegetables to this potato recipe. Carrots are my favorite. Another option is green beans (vainitas, ejote, habichuela) or Brussel sprouts (col de Bruselas, repollito de Bruselas).
  • Use smashed garlic as opposed to minced garlic, as the flavor preserves better.
  • You may need to add a little bit of water from time to time to keep the vegetables from sticking and burning. Add just a little though, so the papa chaucha does not turn mushy!

 

potato, recipe, budget, easy, vegetables

My favorite combination: papa chaucha with carrots. photo © Lorraine Caputo

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A HOLY WEEK RESPITE

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Sometimes when you’re traveling, you just have to let go of the reins and let things flow. It’ll be time to slow down, to sit and watch, to listen.

It may be circumstances, like road conditions of an accident up ahead, that might dictate this. Or local customs – like elections or holidays – might force you stay a spell … slow down, sit and watch and listen.

Several times in my visits to Nicaragua, my travel plans were affected this way. During my first visit there, locals spoke of the uncertainty of transport during the December La Purísima (Immaculate Conception) novena. Nigh on a decade later, Semana Santa (Holy Week) gifted my journey a respite.

During my decades wandering through Latin America, I have had many opportunities to witness Semana Santa (Easter Week), the most holy week on the Catholic calendar. Sometimes the celebrations are simple village processions. Other times, it is full of fervent religiosity with disappearing traditions and impressive Good Friday procession, as in Quito, Ecuador.

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Where in Latin America have I had the opportunity to witness Semana Santa? Some of the places are:

            • El Estor, Guatemala
            • San Salvador, El Salvador
            • Matagalpa, Nicaragua
            • Cartagena, Colombia
            • Quito, Ecuador
            • Arequipa, Peru
            • Puno, Peru

My poetry and photographs of many of these events are brought together in my eBook, Semana Santa: A Guide to and Poetic—Photographic Journey of Easter Week in Latin America.

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Our destination in this narrative, Nicaragua, has the more-down-home observances. (Or at least, did. The government has banned such public Easter Week processions there.) The entire country would come to a stand-still, with all public transport stopped between Maundy Thursday and Resurrection Sunday.

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A HOLY WEEK RESPITE

(1996)

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Wednesday 3 April

A few days ago, I arrived to Matagalpa. This is my second visit to this village tucked in the mountains that roll north towards the Honduran border. The country air is scented with café blossoms and roasting beans. Indeed, this is the heart of Nicaragua’s coffee-growing region.

The town has changed little in the past four years since I was here. That time, I had stayed in a cheap hotel with thin fiberboard walls. In that next room, I could hear a woman “entertaining” a man while her baby cried.

This time, I opt to stay at the Casa del Común, an indigenous center just a block east of the plaza. A volunteer at the library in nearby San Ramón told me of this place that helps local indigenous with legal and land problems. During the day, the office counsels people. Sometimes a woman comes to the patio in the center of this circular house. She fills her bucket with water from the well, then departs.

But the Casa is also a guesthouse, opening its doors to locals and travelers alike. Around this central patio are rooms for meetings and dormitories with bunk beds. In the neighboring room are Eric and Marija, a couple from New Zealand.

In both Estelí and here, I have heard locals say that once Semana Santa gets into full-swing on Maundy Thursday, everything will be at a stand-still. No buses will depart for other destinations. The market will be closed through Resurrection Sunday and no shops or restaurants will be open. I’ll have to stock up and hold out for the next few days – an unplanned respite to my journey.

My first stop is the market to pick up on fruit and such. My shoulder bag fills with pineapple, avocados, tomatoes, onion and a host of other goodies. I see a shiny, squarish-shaped, red fruit with a grey hook on the bottom. I ask the stallkeep what it is: marañón – the cashew fruit. The grey appendage is where the nut is. I ask her how it is eaten. Wash it, peel eat and enjoy. I toss one in my bag and pay up.

I drop my purchases off in my room at the Casa del Común and head to the supermarket. On the way, I see a man scooting himself through streets on his hands. He has one leg missing. Shoppers exiting the supermercado gift a tin of fish or other grocery into the outstretched hands of someone begging outside. I pick up on tuna and other things to get me through these next few days. On my way out, I see that man. I hand him a can of tuna. My next stop is a bakery for some bread and a sweet.

After making a second run to the market with Marija and Eric, I settle in to my room to arrange my food stash. I then pass the hours, lost in a book I have borrowed from Marija: The Natural History of the Senses by Diane Ackman.

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Thursday 4 April

Today is the day of the Last Supper and of the betrayal of Christ. This is the first day of the three-day pause of daily life. It is time to reflect on this most holy time of the Catholic calendar.

I join Eric and Marija in their room for breakfast. I share nísperos (Manilkara zapota) and the marañón (Anacardium occidentale) with them. As soon as I bite into the flesh of the cashew fruit, my lips and eyes begin to burn. I immediately spit it out. Within a short while, the right side of my face begins to swell. (I find this very strange, as I am not allergic to cashews, which are one of my favorite nuts!)

On the way to the pharmacy to seek relief (whew – at least they are taking turns to attend to emergencies!), we see the morning procession passing through the streets.

At the head of the procession altar boys dressed in white, with red albs. Then come women singing. Following them, dozens of men carry on their shoulders a float of a solitary Jesus. It is draped with colorful lights. Immediately behind, a brass band plays music that sounds like it came from the Godfather movie. A vehicle follows. Within, a young boy is reciting prayers and the rosary over a loudspeaker.

Since Monday the saints in the Cathedral have all been covered, except for the current presentation of Christ. I am told that this is done because no other saints existed before Christ’s crucifixion.

I spend the day resting and reading Ackerman. It’s a very fascinating book. In the afternoon I take a siesta – in part for the boredom … and also because of the medicines I am taking for this allergic reaction.

For dinner, Marija, Eric and I get together in common room for dinner. My repast this night is avocado sandwiches, juice and fruit. Afterwards, we go out to check the evening procession. Dozens of men are weighted down by the platform upon which is a cross with a spear, long staff with sponge, and a crown of thorns. Christ is absent.

We return and talk for a while before I retire to rest and read.

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Friday 5 April

It is Good Friday – the day of Jesus’ Via Crucis to Golgotha where he shall be crucified.

This morning early, I stand barefoot on the sidewalk, watching the Via Crucis procession with Inez, the caretaker here. He is bare-chested. As the procession quits a station of the cross and come towards us, Inez runs inside to cover his nakedness before the lord. The sounds of prayers over a pick-up-truck-mounted loudspeaker and the responses of the mass of people in the procession – thousands and thousands of people winding through and through these streets – echo through the town as Christ with his cross passes by.

At breakfast, I carve into my pineapple and share it with Marija and Eric. Marija gifts me a bit of granola. Afterwards, I rest – still afflicted with the swelling – and finish Ackerman. I return it to Marija. She offers me another book: Marcio Souza’s Emperor of the Amazon.

Late morning, I settle in to work on writing, making little progress with anything. I cannot focus. I keep zoning off …

I hear music outside the room. I hang out the window and watch another procession wind past this indigenous communal house. The women’s voices and the beating of a drum ricochet off the walls, so many once bullet-ridden and now patched. The passage of Christ upon his cross lies heavy on the shoulders of many men. They stumble as Christ had stumbled through the streets of Jerusalem under the weight of a scarlet robe and wooden cross. The mournful music of a brass band, tubas small and large, cornets, trombone, sax, clarinet.

All afternoon, I try to work with my words. I make little, little progress. We meet again in the common room at the dinner hour. I prepare tomatoes stuffed with tuna. This I eat with bread and juice.

Just before 7 p.m., Eric, Marija and I take a stroll. We see people amassing outside Iglesia San José in front of Parque Rubén Darío. We watch the procession begin its peregrination around the village. Bloody Christ in a glass coffin and a sorrowful María accompany the women and men, the prayers and the dirgeful music.

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Saturday 6 April 

Today is Holy Saturday. It is a time of anticipation, of expectation. Jesus is within his tomb. Tomorrow he shall be resurrected …

Last evening, I found out that, indeed, buses will be out and about tomorrow. I have packed down Rocinante (my knapsack). I am ready to head out southward tomorrow, to Granada. I’ll be catching Monday’s boat from there to Isla Ometepe … even though half of my face is still, still swollen …

These evening city streets are abandoned. Eric, Marija and I enter a Chinese restaurant that’s open, despite the holiday. We share one last meal together.

My Holy Week here in Matagalpa respite is coming to an end.

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FELINE ENCOUNTERS IN LATIN AMERICA

Of course, you’ll encounter the common house cat (Felis catus) wherever you wend in Latin America. Like in other parts of the world, it has become a favorite pet (mascota). Even though dogs may still be more popular in this region, cats are quickly gaining ground – and it is not uncommon to find both domesticated species sharing a home.

Throughout Latin America, people call cats gatos. In Spanish, the affectionate word michi is also used. This term was introduced by the Spanish who used the sound to call cats to them. The indigenous peoples interpreted this sound as being the Spaniards’ name for the animal – and thus it entered the region’s lexicon.

In the Felidae Family of the Animal Kingdom, both domesticated and wild species exist. The wild cousins are native to all continents except for Australia and Antarctica. Latin America has a whole menagerie of native cat species, ranging from the diminutive gato güiño (kodkod, Leopardus guigna), found in central and southern Chile, to the majestic jaguar (Panthera onca), which resides throughout the tropical zone.

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cats, Latin America, travel, poetry, photography

Geoffrey’s cat (Leopardus geoffroyi). Esteros del Iberá, Argentina. photo © Lorraine Caputo

Latin America’s Native Wild Cats

In total, sixteen species make Latin America their home. Each has an ecological niche they occupy, whether it be the desert or the pampas, the rainforests or the jungles, or the mountains. They play a vital role in maintaining the environment healthy, by hunting diseased or injured prey. Human encroachment on their territories is having a tremendous effect on their populations. Traditional hunting grounds are fractured and lessened, which leads to conflicts with Homo sapiens and their domesticated livestock.

Small felines are:

Andean Cat (Leopardus jacobita)

Geoffroy’s Cat (Leopardus geoffroyi)

Jaguarundi (Herpailurus yaguarondi)

Margay (Leopardus wiedii)

Ocelot (Leopardus pardalis)

Kodkod (Leopardus guigna)

The Pampas Cat includes five species: Desert Pampas Cat (Leopardus garleppi), Pampa Cat (L. munoai), Savanna Pampas Cat (L. braccatus), and the Colocolo (L. colocola). Native Tiger cats are: Savanna Tiger Cat (Leopardus tigrinus), Atlantic Tiger Cat (L. guttulus), Clouded Tiger Cat (L. paranoides).

In Latin America, large cats are limited to two species: the Jaguar (Panthera onca) and the Puma (Puma concolor).

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The Domestic Housecat Comes to the Americas

The domestic housecat arrived to the Americas with the European invasion. They were commonly kept aboard ships to eliminate rat infestations. Martin H. Welker, John R. Bratten and Eric Guiry state in their article, “Exploring the Arrival of Domestic Cats in the Americas,” Felis catus may have arrived with Columbus, though the ship logs do not mention cats. No doubt they traveled with the Spaniards, to the Caribbean islands and also possibly through Acapulco, due to the Manila-Mexico trade route.

Indubitably, the housecat has impacted ecosystems in the Americas, with their hunting of native and endemic birds, reptiles, amphibians, and small mammal species. This damage is most notable in the Galapagos Islands where much of the introduced cats became feral with the lack of human occupation in the archipelago.

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Traveling with Your Gato

You may consider traveling with your home cat, sharing the great adventures of the road, the beautiful vistas, and the exotic foods. Yes, I have met people who take their michi with them when they travel. But it is not a decision to make lightly.

First, you will have to ensure that you have all the necessary paperwork for importation into the country (or countries) you will be visiting as well as for your return to your home country. All of this will necessitate extensive veterinarian exams, tests, and vaccines. Some countries may require a quarantine for weeks or even months. If you are crossing borders, you will need to know the procedure for importing a cat to each country.

You also need to consider other numerous factors. How well would you gato travel? (Think about how well it handles taking a ride the vet.) You will need to have a good carrier. Some bus companies and trains will require your michi to travel in the baggage hold. Is your cat adaptable to unfamiliar surroundings? Cats are notoriously sensitive – if they freak out, they might escape and / or get into a fight (pelea) with local cats. And being in a strange environment, they might get sick or injured – an added expense to your travel budget. It is difficult to find lodging that accepts pets, especially cats due to the damage they may do to furnishings. Their fur and dander, which are difficult to eliminate completely, also can cause allergic reactions to future guests.

You may want to may want to leave your feline with a trusted family member, friend, or neighbor. Schedule regular face time with your cat so they know you haven’t abandoned them.

I have also met people who adopted a gato on the road. But all the above disadvantages need to be considered. Plus, what will you do with the cat at the end of your trip? What paperwork and veterinarian exams will you need to take care of? Or will you abandon them?

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Spending Time with Felidae While on the Road: Cat Cafés & Refuges

If you get to missing your michi while on the road, fear not. The local hospedaje or hostel where you stay may have a resident cat. Or you can frequent a cat café or volunteer at a shelter for a spell during your travels. If you don’t have the time to do that, then consider making a donation to a rescue center. These are all ways we can give back to the communities we visit and support local economies.

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Cat Cafés

The trend of gato cafés has hit Latin America, too! From the Río Bravo (a.k.a. Rio Grande) to the Strait of Magellan, hundreds upon hundreds of these cafés open their doors to cat lovers. Indeed, they are in virtually all the capitals as well as in cities, large and small. Just ask locally about where you can relax with your favorite hot drink and a feline companion. Some are not only places where you can pass a spell with a michi, but also are refuges for strays and adoption agencies.

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Volunteering

In large cities and small towns, animal shelters help stray populations of dogs and cats. These refugios have rehabilitation, adoption, and spaying programs. Some organizations offer housing to their volunteers.

In jungle areas, wildlife refuges work to save and rehabilitate injured and captive native fauna, including big cats. Jaguar refuges are located in jungle regions. The most famous ones are in southern Peru and northern Bolivia.

Many opportunities are listed online and in other resources. Be sure to check out the organization and reviews of it to make sure it is legit and a good fit for you. Most require a minimum length of stay. Though some do not require specific skills, others – like Darwin Animal Doctors in the Galapagos Islands – require professional experience and a dedicated period of time.

(Please note: Any type of stay in the Galapagos – including volunteer stints – are heavily regulated by the islands’ governing board. Because an organization might say that they offer such opportunities does not make the positions legitimate – and could lead to your expulsion from the archipelago for life. Check to make sure that the program is authorized.)

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Donating

If you don’t have the time to volunteer at a refuge, then consider making a monetary donation to organizations working with cats, whether domestic, feral or wild. During the COVID-19 pandemic, many cats and other pets became homeless due to the death of their human companion or due to economic constraints. With the continuing economic strain people feel, shelters are still receiving a lot of abandoned pets. Their resources are stretched thin. If you can, please make a donation to help them with their care, adoption, and other programs.

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cats, Latin America, travel, poetry, photography

photo © Lorraine Caputo

Honoring Felis catus

Every month has at least one day celebrating our furry feline companions. As well, some countries have their own day when they honor cats. White, black and tuxedo cats all have their special days, as do torties, tabbies and gingers. And, of course, the regal Siamese has its fête. Attention is brought to serious issues – like adoptions and feline leukemia. Other observances are more fanciful, such as Happy Mew Year and Meow like a Pirate Day.

To learn more about the following cat days, check Days of the Year and National Day Calendar. Cat Tipper lists all cat-related holidays

January

2 – Happy Mew Year for Cats Day

22 – Answer Your Cat’s Questions Day

29 – Tuxedo Cat Appreciation Day

February

entire month of February – Cat Health Month

third week of February – Drink Wine with Your Cat Week

20 – International Cat Day / Día Internacional del Gato

March

2 – International Rescue Cat Day

3 – What If Cats and Dogs Had Opposable Thumbs Day

17 – Saint Gertrude of Nivelles Day, patron saint of cats

23 – Cuddly Kitten Day

25 – Calico Cat Day

28 – Respect Your Cat Day

April

6 – Siamese Cat Day

17 – Tortoiseshell Cat Appreciation Day

19 – Cat Lady Day

30 – Tabby Day

May

5 – Cinco de Meow Day

30 – International Hug Your Cat Day

June

entire month of June – Adopt a Cat Day

4 – Hug Your Cat Day

18 – Internet Cat Day

19 – International Box Day

22 – Take Your Cat to Work Day

24 – Cat World Domination Day

July

10 – Kitten Day

15 – Feline Leukemia Day

August

8 – International Cat Day

17 – Black Cat Appreciation Day

22 – Take Your Cat to the Vet Day

September

entire month of September – Happy Cat Month

1 – Ginger Cat Appreciation Day

5 – White Cat Day

9 – Tuxie Appreciation Day

19 – Meow Like a Pirate Day

19 – Cat DNA Day

29 – Maneki-Neko Day or Beckoning Cat Day

October

entire month of October – Black Cat Awareness Month

1 – Calico Cat Day

16 – Global Cat Day

16 – Feral Cat Day

27 – Black Cat Day

29 – Cat Day

November

first full week of November – Cat Week

29 – Tuxedo Cat Day

December

entire month of December – Cat Lovers’ Month

15 – Cat Herders Day

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FELINE ENCOUNTERS

Feline Encounters is a collection of poems narrating moments I have shared with Felis catus during my wanderings through the Americas. This eBook also contains photos of michis I have met during my travels and residences in Latin America.

“In the Heat of a Summer Night,” I sit in a cool garden with cats that come to visit. “Aschenputtel” is about a stray I nursed back to health. Both of these poems occur north of the Río Bravo.

I met the michi in “Disappearing into the Night Rain” during my first trip to Central America, in Comayagüela, across the river from Tegucigalpa, Honduras. Locals’ care of their neighborhood felines in Panama City is related in “This Other Day.”

The next two poems take us to meet some Colombian gatos. With “Seeking Peace,” we are in San Gil. We join a cat “Skygazing” in Villa de Leyva.

The last three poems were moments shared with felines in Ecuador. “Sunday’s Dawn in This Beachside Village” is a moment in Mompiche frozen in verse. “On Slender Catfall” and “Within the Sounds of Insomnia” are dedicated to a michi who graced me with her presence during the pandemic.

Feline Encounters is available only in the Latin America Wanderer eBook Library.

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Ready for more Felidae Encounters?

Check out my salute to the most majestic of Latin America’s cats, the Jaguar!

 

Available only in the Latin America Wanderer eBook Library.

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TUNA PATTIES

tuna, tuna patties, tuna hamburger, tuna croquet, budget, quick, easy, camping

Tuna patties, served with a cilantro-onion sauce and lemon wedges. photo © Lorraine Caputo

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Are you looking for an easy and quick cheap meal that you can make in hostel kitchen or over a campfire?

Let me serve you up a plate of Tuna Patties. This main dish comes together with only four ingredients: a can of tuna, an egg, chopped onions, and bread crumbs.

Tuna Patties make a super supper that can be served with rice and a tossed salad. You can serve them alone, with wedges of lemon, or with a sauce (three recipes for sauces below). They are also great for sandwiches.

These Tuna Patties are a perfect quick and inexpensive meal for pescatarians, or Catholics who observe Fish Fridays during Lent or throughout the year. Other similar entrées are Seafood Chowder, Sardine Pasta, and Tuna-Zucchini Pasta. Of course, omnivores will enjoy these fish patties, too!

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tuna, tuna patties, tuna hamburger, tuna croquet, budget, quick, easy, camping

Sitting down to tonight’s dinner: tuna patties, rice and a tossed salad. photo © Lorraine Caputo

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TUNA PATTIES

Estimated cooking time: 5-10 minutes

For: pescatarians, omnivores

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Ingredients

1 tin (160 grams) of tuna

1 egg

¼ cup bread crumbs

1 small onion, finely chopped

½ teaspoon salt

Drain tuna, reserving the oil (in which you’ll fry the patties).

Mix together the tuna, egg, bread crumbs, onion and salt.

Form into three hamburger-sized patties.

Heat a skillet with a few tablespoons of the oil reserved from the tuna. Place in the patties and brown on each side.

Serve with one of the sauces below and/or with lemon wedges.

¡Buen provecho!

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Tips

  • If using a large can of tuna (350 grams), then use 2 eggs and a bit more bread crumbs. This will yield five to six patties.
  • This recipe may also be made with other tinned fish like salmon (salmón) or mackerel (caballa, macarela).
  • Bread crumbs are called apandura or migas de pan in Spanish.
  • You can make your own bread crumbs by taking stone-hard bread and “grinding” it in a blender (licuadora) or grating it.
  • To kick a bit of a kick to your patties, add ½ teaspoon of finely chopped chili pepper or a pinch of red pepper flakes.

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Sauces

To 3 Tablespoons of mayonnaise, add:

  • 1 Tablespoon chopped pickles;

 – or – 

  • 1 Tablespoon finely chopped cilantro (culantro in some Andean countries), 1 Tablespoon finely chopped onion, a pinch of garlic powder and a pinch of paprika (or, if you prefer, chili or chipotle powder);

– or –

  • 1 Tablespoon of ketchup (salsa de tomate, in many countries), to make a salsa golf. If you like, you can also add a dash of hot sauce, or a pinch of spices like cumin or garlic.

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To help you get around the kitchen while you’re on the road,

check these articles

– exclusively at Latin America Wanderer!

 

NAVIGATING THE KITCHEN – A Bilingual Guide to Kitchen Gear

IN THE KITCHEN : A Bilingual Glossary to Ingredients

THE KNAPSACK PANTRY

 

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NEW PUBLICATIONS : Poetic and Visual – March Equinox 2026

HAPPY MARCH EQUINOX!

Depending on which side of the equator you are, today you are marking the official beginning of Spring (if you are north of that line) or the first day of Autumn (if you are south of it).

This is also the time when many Andean nations celebrate Pawkar Raymi (Flowering Festival) when thanks are given for the fruits of Mother Earth (Pachamama). Purification ceremonies and communal meals are also held.

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egg, balance, test, equator, Ecuador, Inti Ñan

Balancing an egg. photo © Lorraine Caputo

Balancing an Egg

The equinox is when all is in equilibrium. Time at any latitude is same: 12 hours of daylight, 12 hours of night.

And, according to lore, the equinox (whether in March or in September) is the only time of the year when you can balance an egg on the head of a nail no matter where you are in the world.

However, if you are at the equator, you can balance that egg on any day of the year.

If you would like to test this lore – and many other claims to prove the Coriolis effect and that you are, indeed, precisely on the equator, visit Inti Ñan, a museum north of Quito, Ecuador – right on the equator! This center also has much information about the indigenous nations of this equatorial country.

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The Quarterly Round-Up

And, of course, it is now time for my quarterly round-up of recent publications!

My poetry and visual expressions continue to appear in journals and on websites around the world – this quarter, in the US and the UK.

These past six months or so have been very slow in the publication realm. I have received many rejections and have seen very few releases.

But that is part of the “game” of writing and publication. One just has to expect – and accept – it. And not stop creating, not stop submitting …

In this past month, though, I have seen an uptick on acceptances of my literary and visual art creations. So, be sure to return to this space next quarter (on the June solstice) to see the cornucopia of publications scheduled to be released.

But now, let’s spend this March equinox browsing through the list (with links) below, poetically journeying to Nicaragua, Ecuador, Argentina, and the US … and destinations within my self / Self …

With my eBooks, I have begun a new series of fauna and flora checklists and guides. The first issue covers Patagonia. Stay tuned for future volumes!

PLUS I share news about nominations and other events!

And until we next meet …..

Safe Journeys!

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poetry, publications, travel, moon

The Snow Moon – or the Rain Moon? photo © Lorraine Caputo

NEW LITERARY EXPRESSIONS

“Epiphany,” “Sounds of Silence” and “Midnight Navidad” in Storyteller Poetry Review (Super-sized Series: Merry Christmas) (23 December 2025)

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[haiku] “Slowly the white clouds …” in 5-7-5 Haiku Journal (1 January 2026)

“Snow Dreams” and “To Build a Snowman” in Storyteller Poetry Review (23 January 2026)

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“This Rain Moon,” “Meditating ‘Neath the Eclipsing Flower Moon,” “Searching for the Light” and “Autumn Nights” in Lothlorien Poetry Journal (UK) (11 February 2026)

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drawing, pen & ink, moon, publication

“Somnia Aurea XVI – Golden Lunes” (pen & ink). drawing © Lorraine Caputo

NEW VISUAL EXPRESSIONS

My visual creations have been featured here :

[2 drawings] “Somnia Aurea II – Autumn Vibes” and “Somnia Aurea XVI – Golden Lunes” in Soul Poetry, Prose & Arts Magazine (Volume 1, Issue 5, Winter 2026)

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AND OTHER NEWS IN THE PUBLISHING and ARTS REALM

FeedSpot now rates this blog, Latin America Wanderer, in fifth place on its list of Top 15 Latin American History RSS Feeds.

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Soul Poetry, Prose & Arts Magazine featured my Artist Profile in its Winter 2026 issue (page 123).

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Flapper Press nominated my travel narrative “Rain at Any Moment . . . If it Wishes” for the Pushcart Prize (2025).

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NEW eBOOK ACQUISITIONS

These are the new titles of my published poetry and a travel guide, available exclusively in the Latin America Wanderer eBook Library :

  • Caribbean Chillin’ along the Colombia Northern Seaboard
  • Patagonian Fauna & Flora: A Checklist and Guide
  • Galápagos Nights

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Reach for the moon with your writing project!

Rely on my decades of writing and publishing experience to make your writing or website shine!

If you need any of the following services, please feel free to contact me for a cost quote on your project:

  • an article for your publication or website
  • proofreading and editing of your blog articles
  • a translation (Spanish-English)
  • proofreading or copyediting of your dissertation, book or article
  • design of an eBook or ready-to-print collection of your poetry (please see here for examples)

I am also available to participate in literary events.

Learn more about my experience and publications, and read the testimonials of those who have used my services.

I look forward to working with you!

 

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COCONUT-BLACKBERRY CAKE

cake, coconut, blackberry, mango, berries, pineapple

Coconut-Blackberry Cake. photo © Lorraine Caputo

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Talking with housemates about what cake I should bake on Sunday, one suggested something that would be purple – for International Women’s Day.

But what would give the desired color?

I hit the market and bought a dollar’s worth of fresh moras (blackberries). Digging through the fridge back at the digs, I found a husked coconut, the meat broken into large chunks.

Hmmmm …

My kitchen experiment resulted in this scrumptious Coconut-Blackberry Cake – perfect for celebrating International Women’s Day, a birthday, or just to have for dessert after a communal meal in the hostel or at home.

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Fresh Coconut: A Tropical Delight

Fresh coconut milk is a refreshing way to beat the sultry tropical heat. It is common to encounter stands where – whack, whack, whack – the vendor will cut a hole into the coco with a machete. After you drink the agua de coco (coconut water) within the nut, the vendor often splits the nut and hands you the coconut meat.

What can you do with this delight?

You can eat it fresh as it is.

If you have time: Thinly slice the coconut meat and dry it for four days to a week before packaging it as a snack for the road.

Or you can use it in the recipe I share below – or even my delicious Piña Colada Cake.

Coconut is a traditional treatment for diarrhea (Montezuma’s Revenge, Inca Two-Step), as it helps to firm up your gut’s refuse.

However, please note: Eating a lot of coconut can cause constipation. Many travelers to Honduras’ Caribbean coast discover this after pigging out on yummy pan de coco!

If you do not have fresh coconut on hand, you can use unsweetened flaked coconut.

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This cake can be made with not only blackberries, but many types of fruit you may pick up at a fruit festival in the Patagonia.

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Now – let’s hit the kitchen and whip up this wonderful Coconut-Blackberry Cake.

You can also make it with a variety of other fruits!

cake, coconut, blackberry, mango, berries, pineapple

Come – sit down to a slice of my special Coconut-Blackberry Cake. photo © Lorraine Caputo

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COCONUT-BLACKBERRY CAKE

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In a bowl, mix well:

1 ½ cups flour (I use whole wheat flour)

½ cup flaked coconut

1 ½ teaspoons baking powder

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1 teaspoon ground ginger

¼ teaspoon ground cardamon

½ teaspoon salt

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In another bowl, cream:

½ cup (100 grams) softened butter

1 cup sugar (I used a half-cup of white sugar and a half-cup of brown sugar)

Add and beat:

1 egg

½ cup milk

1 teaspoon coconut extract

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Bit by bit, add the dry ingredients to the butter mixture, mixing well after each addition.

Pour batter into a greased and floured round 9” cake mold.

Sprinkle 2 cups of washed fresh blackberries atop the batter.

Bake 60-70 minutes in a preheated 180ºC (350ºF) oven, until golden and the cake is firm in the center.

Completely cool before removing from the cake mold.

¡Buen provecho!

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Tips

  • If using fresh coconut, you can grate chunks of it or grind it in a blender (licuadora).
  • In a pinch, vanilla extract can be used instead of coconut extract.
  • You can use other fruit across the top, like:
    • blueberries (arándanos)
    • raspberries (frambuesas)
    • strawberries (fresas, frutillas), cut into pieces
    • cut-up mango
    • pineapple (piña, ananá) chunks
    • passionfruit (maracuyá, parchita) – the juice and seeds inside of the fruit
    • plums (ciruelas, Ecuador: claudias), cut into pieces
    • cherries (cerezas), pitted and cut in pieces
  • During the baking process, the fruit will sink into the batter.

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To help you get around the kitchen while you’re on the road,

check these articles

– exclusively at Latin America Wanderer!

 

NAVIGATING THE KITCHEN – A Bilingual Guide to Kitchen Gear

IN THE KITCHEN : A Bilingual Glossary to Ingredients

THE KNAPSACK PANTRY

 

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10 TRAVEL TIPS FOR SOLA WOMEN TRAVELERS

travel, solo, women, TravelTips, safety

¡No dar papaya! photo © Lorraine Caputo

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Ah, sister – so you’re heading out on an epic Latin American journey – all on your own! Sola, solita! Your family and friends have all questioned you: But is it safe?

It is, indeed, much safer than many would think. You only have to – well, yes – take a few precautions – just as you would have to at home. Or as they say in Colombia: No dar papaya. (Don’t give papaya – or don’t make yourself a mark.)

I’ve been doing it since 1988, and besides a few irritating moments, I’ve had nary a problem. Let me show you some of the ropes.

Though these won’t 100 percent guarantee your Latin American trip will be hassle-free, it will make it far more comfortable.

Here are the 10 Travel Tips for Sola Women Travelers.

(And yes, men, some of these can be useful for you, too!)

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1. Leave the Hollywood Stereotype Behind

With my years of traveling in Latin America, I have noticed how prevalent Hollywood movies and TV shows are in this region. And I have often wondered if, perhaps, the way women are portrayed in many movies don’t influence how men think foreign women are. (Hey, we all know Hollywood is in the U.S. – but who can tell one fair-skinned foreigner from the other, right?)

Think about how Hollywood portrays women: How they dress, how they behave. Rather loose – as if ready to jump into bed with anything that moves.

Dress and act anti-Hollywood.

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2. Who’s Macho?

Speaking of stereotypes …

We have all heard how macho Latinos are.

But let us take a step back and look at our own societies with a critical eye.

First off – how shocked were your family and friends when you announced you would be going alone – as a woman – to Latin America? (Would they have said the same to a male relative or friend?)

Can a woman walk alone at night? Can she go to a nightclub alone? How are the figures of sexual / physical / spousal / mate abuse against female as compared to the male population in your home country? How many businesses are owned by women? What is the custom of keeping one’s birth surname upon marriage? How about the “glass ceiling” and pay equality? Just how much equal rights do women really have where you come from?

And that’s the first realization we must admit: Even in our “enlightened” societies, machismo exists – and affects our daily lives. It just wears a different face.

When you are packing your bags, don’t forget to toss in your workplace and street savvy women skills!

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3. Placing the Attitudes in Context

It is so true that with each generation, women’s rights have gotten better. At times, though, it seems to me that younger people have no idea how far we have come.

So I always urge them:

Have a heart-to-heart talk with your Mother, your Grandmother, your Aunts, and other older women relatives or friends about what it was like for women back in the day. Get the low-down about how it was for them growing up and coming into womanhood. What could a woman do? What could she not? Where could she go? Where not?

To give you an idea of what it was like when I was growing up: It wasn’t until I was in sixth grade that we could where pants to school (but no jeans or corduroys). When my older sister was in high school, teachers were still measuring skirts. (No more than 14 inches off the ground!) You had to be careful riding a bike so you didn’t rip your hymen. (And not use tampons, either, for the same reason!)

And in the adult world, a married woman couldn’t practice a profession using her maiden name (a restriction that would exist until well into the 1980s) – let alone enter many professions. A woman couldn’t get her own credit card. A married woman couldn’t get birth control without her husband’s permission.

In many areas of Latin America, women’s lives are just as they were 30 or 40 years ago in our own societies.

And as you are a woman in that society (albeit temporarily), you will be expected to behave as such.

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4. Have a Heart-to-Heart with the Women You Meet

Wherever you go, talk with the women you meet. (And you will meet plenty, as many inns, shops and market stalls in Latin America are run by women!) Visit women’s centers – and volunteer in one.

Ask local women about the customs where you are, what you should know about dress and behavior. Ask about their lives, what it’s like for women in their society. Tell them about what life is like for you in your society.

Speak from the heart. Help to create bridges of understanding between our societies.

There is no better way for you to learn about the women’s struggles where you are traveling. As well, it can assure them that you aren’t a stereotypical Hollywood character out after their men – and can provide you with an important support network should something happen to you.

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5. “When in Rome ….”

Take a look at the women in Latin America and take a cue from them. How are they dressing? Where do they go – and not go?

Sleeveless shirts may be seen as risqué. In some areas, women still swim in shorts and t-shirt instead of bathing suits. Do women wear shorts in public? (Heads up, men – this is true, too, for the male sex!)

Where do “decent” women do NOT go, especially alone or in a group of other women? There is still much prejudice against women entering bars, discos or pool halls.

Additionally, keep in mind that even informal chitchat with a man might be interpreted as a sexual invitation.

And then there’s the old joke about how Latin men want to party with the whore, but marry the Virgin.

(I would say Madonna – but then she might be confused with Madonna Louise Ciccone, who you definitely do not want to emulate if you want to avoid provoking the Hollywood-inspired dreams of local men ….)

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travel, solo, women, TravelTips, safety

A few of my “disguises.” photo © Lorraine Caputo

6. Use Disguises

You will undoubtedly be considered an oddity out traveling on your own, without a (male) companion. So, a few disguises might be in order.

If the topic comes up, you can always say that your “husband” is waiting for you. (“Oh, there he is. Excuse me, please,” and walk away). A wedding ring can also be part of your ensemble.

Another good “disguise” is to wear a cross or a Star of David (which many Christians in Latin America wear). Truly – it is amazing how much different people will receive you if they see one. They will seem to consider you to be a “good girl.” (Honestly – I have field tested this one.)

Whatever jewelry you might wear, though, keep it simple and inexpensive. (After all, you don’t want to attract thieves with a diamond-studded, gold cross!)

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7. Handling the Attitudes

It’s been said many, many a time: Ignore it. Ignore the cat calls, the whistles. Look straight ahead and keep walking. Move away.

But if it gets too aggressive, do not hesitate to use your voice forcefully – and LOUD. Probably the best word to learn in Spanish is, Déjeme! Leave me alone! This will usually stop any assault and draw others’ attention.

(And – as the mother and daughter in Mexico City answered our question as to how they handle the infamous grope sessions on the rush-hour subway: The daughter picked up her spike-heeled shoe, and the mother pulled a very long hat pin from her purse. Enough said.)

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8. Watch What You Take!

(Men – listen up to this piece of advice, too!)

I know, I know – you are on vacation and you want to have a good time.

But you might want to consider, just for this short while of your trip, to moderate your liquor and drug intake. You are already a likely target for theft (you’re a foreigner, after all – and with that territory comes the belief that you must be rich!) and you should keep your wits about you as much as possible. You don’t want to dar papaya.

(It will not only help to protect you from possible theft, but also possible “on-the-spot fines” from law enforcement.)

If you do have a drink out in a restaurant, nightclub, casino or elsewhere, always make sure that bottles are opened in your presence. Keep your hand over your glass or bottle, to prevent someone from slipping a drug into it. Never leave your drink unattended. An alternative is a drink cover: a scrunchie that can be slipped over your glass to prevent your drink from being spiked (and keep bugs from falling in!). These covers are made by several companies.

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9. Personal Matters

In the realm of personal matters, women, keep these matters in mind:

Tampons are extremely expensive in Latin America (seriously, over $3 for a box of eight) and virtually non-existent outside of the big cities. Consider packing your own supply, or using an alternative method for your menstrual flow (like a cup – or, as local women use, sanitary napkins).

Likewise, birth control is difficult to find outside of large cities.

If you believe you may have sexual relations during your trip, pack some condoms in your first aid kit. Always use protection to prevent an unwanted pregnancy or disease. (I know at least three women who were HIV-infected from their holiday “adventures.”)

Another annoyance is yeast infections. With a high sugar diet (even in fruit juices!) coupled with tight clothes and the heat and humidity, it is no wonder sometimes travelers come down with a good case of candida. To minimize your chances of developing one, watch your sugar intake, and wear loose clothing and cotton underwear.

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10. Older Women Travelers

Ah – the joys of being an older woman traveler!

First, there is the respect Latin American societies still show to their elders. And if you don’t want an imaginary “husband” hanging in the shadows, you can say you are a widow.

Atop that, there are no tampons to have to be hauling around. Do take extra care with protecting yourself with sexual relations. (But remember, too, to not live up to that Hollywood caricature of the “cougar”!)

But two images that we still have to face as foreign women: That we must be rich –and that we are the “weaker” sex.

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In a nut shell : It is all a matter of common sense and trusting your gut feelings.

Relax – and enjoy the ride!

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Safe Journeys!

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travel, solo, women, TravelTips, safety

This woman has been traveling sola for almost four decades. Parque Nacional Lauca, Chile. photo © Lorraine Caputo

 

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BECAUSE OF CIRCUMSTANCE

Sensitivity Warning: Sexual assault content.

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History, Guatemala, Honduras, bananas, plantations, fruit companies

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Clouds still fill the sky enough to disappear the stars, but not the three-quarter moon. Its light slithers across the blackened water. I lean against the green and white railing of the balcony. Reggae songs flow from the Tiburón II. Scattered groups of people hang around outside the club, talking, drinking, laughing. A somewhat quiet night for Tela, here on the Caribbean coast of Honduras, where cocaine still drifts along the old Contra supply lines … where a father gives his son a gun for his sixteenth birthday. And yes, where a “decent” woman does not go out on the street unescorted.

“I don’t know if I’m imagining things.” At her words, I turn to Deysi, the newlywed from Yoro. She shakes her head. In the light of the one streetlamp, her face is mosaicked with concern. “Do you see a couple down there on the beach?”

I move closer to her and follow her thin, dark arm pointing down the beach. “Yeh, I see a couple.” They seem to be lying on their backs, resting on their elbows, at the water’s edge. Ribbons of silver moonlight fray across the water in front of them.

“I think he’s raping her. I heard a scream and saw her struggle with him. He then hit her and she fell.”

I put my foot into one of the openings of the concrete-block balustrade. It feels cool against my bare feet. I strain to see through the half-light and distance. They seem to be sitting, legs stretched out. The surf rolls towards them, filling the night with its wash.

Deysi shakes her head. “I don’t know. Maybe I am just imagining things. Perhaps it’s the marijuana I smoked.”

“No, no. I do see a couple down there. But it looks like they’re only sitting there.”

“I could have sworn I saw what I saw.” She leans over the balcony, squinting into the darkness.

“Well, if you think she’s being raped, why don’t we just take an ‘innocent’ walk by there—just fifteen, twenty feet away—to disrupt the moment?”

She pulls away from the balcony and looks straight into my eyes. “Oh, no. That would be too dangerous.” She vigorously shakes her head. Her dark hair brushes her shoulders. “It is better to let the police handle it.”

“And, of course, the hotel has no phone. Nor is there any place near here, to call the police.”

“No.”

“Where is the police station?”

“You know that road that goes by the gas station? Past that … on top of the hill.”

“So—probably close to a mile from here.”

“Yeh—about a half-an-hour walk.”

I mutter a damn under my breath, leaning once more over the balcony in hopes of closing the distance a bit between me and that couple. They move a little. Over the steady wash of the waves, I hear … so faintly … a scream.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t want to take just an ‘innocent’ stroll? We don’t need to say anything, just walk on by.” I glance over to her.

Fear brims her eyes. She silently, rhythmically shakes her head.

I breathe deeply, exhale slowly. “I was raped. And I wish someone could have helped me. Have you ever been raped?”

She quietly answers yes.

“Didn’t you wish someone would have helped you?”

She nods slightly. “But …”

The word floats from her lips. The night drifts between us as we silently watch the couple on the beach.

I turn away from her and walk up the balcony. My hand slides along the smooth, concrete railing. Down below, three men sit on a bench in the circle of the streetlamp’s light. Further up the beach, two couples run to the waves. They laugh as the water sprays their legs.

Rubén, the sixteen-year-old night desk clerk, comes onto this common balcony. I hear the bride telling him her speculations. He leans over the balcony, looking at the couple. “Oh, they’re just making love.”

“Hello, dear.” The Honduran woman turns to her husband, Jürgen. His blonde hair catches the streetlight. “I’ve got dinner here.” Deysi distractedly takes his free hand in hers and draws him close to her.

“I think there’s a woman being raped down on the beach.”

He tilts his head in question. Then he squints down the beach.

“I heard a scream and saw her struggling with him. He hit her and she fell.”

Jürgen sets the bag down on the table. His brows draw together.

“Oh, they’re only making love down there,” says Ruben, lighting a cigarette.

We hear a scream, barely audible above the surf. No one says a word. Rubén moves away from the railing and leans against the wall. Shadows cover his face.

“Wouldn’t anyone be willing to take a stroll past there with me? We don’t have to do anything—just pass by. Perhaps our mere presence would stop the rape.”

No one says anything. The German groom sits at the table and opens the bag. He pulls out the plate covered with a napkin. He silently hands his wife a plastic fork. She peels the napkin from the food.

I leave them to their dinner and walk down the balcony. As I pass Rubén, I look into his dark eyes. He takes a steady drag from his cigarette. The orange coal lights his face. He shrugs.

I reach the far end of the balcony. Down below on the side street, a couple walks out of their house. The woman wears a light night shift. She crosses her arms against her bosom. Her mate wears only shorts. They look over at the couple on the beach, less than a hundred feet from them.

Deysi leans over the balcony, a French fry dangling between her fingers. She calls out to the neighbors, “I think she’s being raped.”

The man down below walks towards the beach. His plastic sandals kick little sprays of sand against his ankles. He stops and stands in the shadow of his house. I see him tightly ball his right hand. After a few minutes, he walks back to his wife. He puts his arm around her shoulder.

I lean over the balcony. “Would you be interested in walking by there with me? We don’t have to do anything. Just our presence.  Perhaps it would distract him and make him stop.”

The man looks over at the scene. Looking up at me, he calls up loudly, to be heard over the waves, “Yes.”

“I’ll be right down.”

I run to my room and stuff my tennis shoes on, not even bothering to tie the blue laces. I clamber down the staircase, letting the momentum carry me across the sparse lobby, to the wrought-iron gate. I grab the slide to open it. It won’t move. I reach for the padlock. Damn. My hands slap the grillwork.

I run up the steps two at a time and to the balcony. Everyone is leaning against the railing. They are silently, intently watching the couple down the beach. I stand in the doorway. “Rubén ….”

We see the couple stand up. The man adjusts his belt.

“See? They were just making love.” Rubén lights another cigarette.

A scream cuts above the surf. She pulls away from him. He jerks her towards him.

The night is heavy with our silence. I suppress my words: “You call that ‘making love,’ Rubén?” I look coldly at him.

The couple walks along the water’s edge. The woman pulls away from him again.

Rubén walks away, to return to his desk downstairs.

Anger gnaws within me. At Rubén for his machismo, his denial. They were only making love. At the bride, for her fear. At the groom, for his silence.

The newlyweds sit down at the table. They stare at their now-cold dinner. The German gently forks the piece of chicken.

Down below, the man in the shorts puts his arm around his wife’s waist. They enter their home, heads bowed.

Frustration rolls within me, like the sea. Damn, I so wanted to help her. But I couldn’t, I couldn’t. Was it because of my own weakness? Was it because of circumstance, because of where I am?

I walk to the opposite end of the balcony, nearer the Tiburón II. Out of its open doors flows a ranchera song. I close my eyes tight and grip the railing. Beneath my breath, I express my regrets. “I’m sorry. Please—I wish I could let her know we tried to help her.” My mind wants to reach out to her, to comfort her, to let her know she’s not alone.

I shake my tears away. My teeth nip my bottom lip.

Would it have been any different any place else—back home?

Down in the circle of the streetlamp’s light, the three men still talk. Out at the water’s edge, the two couples still play.

I glance down the beach. The man grips her tight around the waist. I see her, once more, pull away from him.

I hear her scream.

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published in

The Personal Essayist (1 December 2023)

 

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SCRAMBLED EGGS – Latin American Style!

In my many kilometers of traveling through the Americas, I have become convinced that the worst-value meal to eat out is breakfast. To put it bluntly, it can be relatively expensive – sometimes costing as much as (or even more) than a lunch or dinner.

So, what is a budget traveler to do?

If you are camping or staying in a hostel, then you can whip up a meal and leisurely enjoy it before heading out to see the sites or take a hike.

An easy meal to prepare – whether for breakfast or for dinner – is eggs. And huevos (Portuguese: ovo) pack a lot protein, which is necessary to help your body repair itself from the rigors of the road.

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Scrambled Eggs in Latin America

Eggs are super versatile. They can be prepared in a variety of ways: soft boiled, hard boiled, fried (sunny side up or over easy), poached, shirred, scrambled. They are the key ingredient in a quiche, omelet, frittata, and pain perdu. Eggs are also incorporated into crêpes and pancakes, cheese strata and bread pudding, as well as cakes of all flavors.

In Latin America, scrambled eggs (Spanish: huevos revueltos, Portuguese: ovos mexidos) are a common item on the menu. But in several countries, you’ll find variations on the theme. In Mexico, you can sit down to a plate of huevos a la mexicana. Colombia serves up huevos perico. And in the sierra of Ecuador, folks whip up mote pillo. Each variation on the scrambled-eggs theme reflects the gastronomic landscape of the country.

Today, I present to you recipes for each of these three dishes. The cooking time on all is about ten minutes. Both vegetarians and omnivores will find these to be delightful meals.

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¡Buen provecho!

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Tips

  • In Latin America, eggs are usually stored at room temperature. This is because the eggs are not washed prior to going to market – the washing removes the protective layer of the eggs. Without this layer, the egg would spoil quickly without refrigeration.
  • Eggs are common throughout the region. You can easily pick up one or two at the corner shop.
  • Before using an egg, give it a quick wash with clean water.
  • Some people prefer to break each egg into a separate bowl to check on its freshness before adding it with other eggs or to a batter.
  • When fixing scrambled eggs, beat the eggs well with a fork in a bowl before pouring them into the skillet. The more you beat them, the more air gets incorporated into them – and the lighter your scrambled eggs will be. It will also make a dish prepared with one solo egg appear to be made with two!
  • Have all the ingredients ready before beginning to prepare the dish. Everything cooks relatively quickly and so you have to work fast.
  • You may use butter or margarine to fix your scrambled eggs – though in Latin America, it is more common to use a vegetable oil.

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eggs, Mexico, Colombia, Ecuador, recipe, budget

Chopped veggies ready to go. photo © Lorraine Caputo

This is about the size and quantity of chopped vegetables you will want for a portion of one or two eggs. If you are preparing for more people, then increase the amount of veggies and eggs accordingly.

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General Preparation Instructions

All the following recipes are prepared in the same general manner:

  • Heat the oil in a skillet over medium heat.
  • Add the vegetables. Sauté until tender.
  • Spread the vegetables out evenly across the bottom of the skillet.
  • Add the beaten egg(s). Turn the heat down to medium-low.
  • Let the egg(s) firm up a bit before you gently stir and fold them.

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eggs, Mexico, Colombia, Ecuador, recipe, budget

Huevos a la mexicana. photo © Lorraine Caputo

Huevos a la Mexicana – Mexico

  • eggs
  • onion, chopped
  • fresh serrano or jalapeño pepper, sliced thinly or chopped
  • tomato, diced (in Mexico, called jitomate)

 

Outside of Mexico, it can be hard to find jalapeño and serrano chili peppers. If I can’t find them fresh in the market, I will use green sweet pepper (bell pepper) and chili powder. For those whose have a low tolerance for spicy food, you could substitute green sweet pepper for the chili.

In Mexico, this is typically served with hot corn tortillas.

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eggs, Mexico, Colombia, Ecuador, recipe, budget

Huevos perico. photo © Lorraine Caputo

Huevos Perico – Colombia

  • eggs
  • onion, diced
  • tomato, diced
  • garlic, minced
  • salt, pinch

 

If you’re sitting down to eat this in Colombia, your huevos perico will come with an arepa, a small, round corn bread typical of Colombia and Venezuela.

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eggs, Mexico, Colombia, Ecuador, recipe, budget

Mote pillo. photo © Lorraine Caputo

Mote Pillo – Ecuador

  • eggs
  • mote (hominy corn)
  • onion, chopped
  • pinch of salt

 

In mote pillo, aceite con achiote is traditionally used, though you can use regular vegetable oil.

First, sauté the onion (if you like, you can also toss in some chopped sweet or hot pepper and minced garlic) until tender. Add mote and heat through. Add eggs and scramble.

Mote is available in the market (mercado). Ask the stall-keeper what her recipe for mote pillo is!

 

 

 

 

 

 

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ADVENTURES IN THE SEARCH FOR PERUVIAN WINE

Wherever I have wandered in Latin America, I have tried local liqueurs, including local wines. Some countries produce excellent ones – most famously, Chile and Argentina. Some countries … well, their fermented beverages from the humble grape have left unsavory memories on my palate.

My search for good Peruvian vino has taken me from one end of the country to the other. At each pass, I became more and more convinced that while in Peru, it might be better to limit my libations to beer or pisco. This latter, also distilled from grape, is most often served as the famous pisco sour cocktail, which appears either as an appetizer to a Sunday blue plate special or as the brindis (toast) at art openings and literary readings.

Eventually, though, I would be proved wrong – well, to a certain extent.

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drawing, Ecuador, Peru, mountains

Sunrise over the Cordillera de los Cóndores. The Condor Range separates Ecuador and Peru. drawing © Lorraine Caputo

The Beginning of This Enological Adventure

In the boreal spring of 2007, my contract had just ended. I was out of work, no prospects – but a bit of savings. I decided to head to a part of Peru that I had always wanted to know: Chachapoyas and the Utcubamba River Valley. This region of Peru, rich in traditional villages and ancient ruins, is on the eastern slopes of the Andes as they tumble into the Amazon jungle.

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Getting to the Utcubamba River Valley

The journey to Chachapoyas was an adventure. I love the challenge of crossing borders at out-of-the-way (but legal) places. This time, I would travel from Ecuador to Peru through La Balsa. This would position me just north of my destination.

It isn’t a straight-forward trip – at least not in those days of early 2007. I spent a few days in Cuenca, Ecuador. My next stop was Vilcabamba. From there, I left on the morning’s second bus to Zumba. The six-hour journey southward was on a partially unpaved road through orchid-strewn cloud forest. I hoped there would be no landslide delays – a common occurrence between December and April, and we were right in that season.

I hoped to catch the last ranchera to La Balsa and from there to make it across the border before it closed at 6 p.m. I didn’t make it. I had to spend the night in Zumba.

The next day, I caught that open-sided bus to La Balsa. The two-hour ride on wooden benches was a hard introduction to rural life. It was then a bus to the border and across a short bridge to the Peruvian post. The official there had all the rest of the journey’s trajectory printed off for travelers coming this way: a colectivo taxi to San Ignacio (2 hours), a microbus (combi) to Jaén (3 hours) and lastly, a colectivo to Bagua Grande (1 hour). From there, transport heads west to Chiclayo, east to Yurimaguas and points in between, and south to my goal, Chachapoyas (3 hours).

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Peru, Kuelap, Chachapoyas, Amazonas, cloudforest, archaeology, ruins, poetry, travel poetry

Exploring the Utcubamba River Valley

I spent weeks visiting the small villages of Huancas, Lámud, Tingo, Jalca Grande and Leymebamba.  I explored many ruins: Pueblo de los Muertos, Karajía, Macro, Óllape, Revash and majestic Kuélap. I hiked several of the ancient roads that weave through the region. And I wrote many poems about this Land of the Clouds.

My birthday was coming ’round. I wanted to give myself a great treat: Pack a picnic lunch and head up to Levanto, a small village 23 kilometers southwest of Chachapoyas. Once there, I would visit the ruins of Yálape, then hike the 16-kilometer pre-Incan road back to Chachapoyas.

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My Peruvian Wine Search Begins

For a week I asked everywhere: “What is the best Peruvian wine?” I asked in restaurants, in shops, at hotels – even the tellers at the bank. Everyone said the same: a borgoño (burgundy) made by the country’s biggest winery. I finally found it in one of the supermarkets in Chachapoyas – at $14 per bottle.

Early the morning of my birthday, I awoke and packed a lunch for my outing. I made a spread of local cheese, chopped Kalamata-style olives, garlic, onion and oregano, all of which I bought at Chachapoyas’ immense market. I prepared sandwiches and tossed it into my shoulder bag along with some fruit, water – and a small bottle filled with the borgoño.

 

Down at Chachapoyas’ main plaza, I took a colectivo (a shared taxi) up the mountain to Levanto. I strolled around that village for a while, and then visited the ruins at the edge of town, at the beginning of the ancient stone road. Before setting off on the downhill, 16-kilometer trek, I sat on the ridge to enjoy my picnic. The view was incredible, with the mountains folding away on either side. I took a sip of the wine. Immediately my tongue curled from the acidic tartness. Then the sickeningly sweet aftertaste hit my taste buds. Oh, my – and this is the best Peru has to offer in wine?

For several hours, I headed down the ancient road. The stones, slick from recent rains, were haphazardly scattered from centuries of mule traffic. I leaped over pools of earth-colored water. I dodged mud – sometimes unsuccessfully. At times, I passed people who were climbing homewards. And every once in while I paused to take poetic notes.

As soon as I emerged from the stone path onto the highway, I hitched back to Chachapoyas. My payment to the driver and his friends was the rest of the wine in my bottle – a very welcomed gift on that Friday after work. When I got to my hostel, I gave the rest of the burgundy to the owner and her cleaning help.

Everyone was happy, except for me – who was out $14. But at least it wasn’t as bad as the turpentine-essence vino in Guatemala.

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Peru, wine, Majes Valley, Valle de Majes

A delicious lunch, featuring alpaca steak and a goblet of Majes wine. photo © Lorraine Caputo

My Peruvian Wine Adventures Continue

Eventually I would be proven wrong about Peruvian wine – after many kilometers down the road and a few years later.  In the far south of the country, I learned it isn’t all that hopeless of a cause.

Honestly, the Chachapoyas experience wasn’t enough to turn me off from trying vino again in Peru. After all, there are many wineries, many grapes. Pisco, another product distilled from the fruit of the vine, is exceptionally good in this country. But no matter where or when I tried wine – even at fine restaurants like The Mossone in Huacachina or that of the Nazca Lines Hotel in Nazca – I always was disappointed.

Until one afternoon I dined at El Viñedo in Arequipa. I opted for its menu turístico, a moderately priced meal that included a pisco sour aperitif, choice of appetizer, main course and dessert. For the main dish I had the alpaca steak accompanied by a goblet of the house wine. Upon taking that first sip of the vino, my eyes widened. Surely a wine this good has to be imported. Upon paying my bill, I asked where their house wine comes from. Valle de Majes, was the reply.

The Majes Valley lies just west of Arequipa. This is home to this region’s prime pisco and wine vintners. I hope someday to pay them a visit and try their products – perhaps during the Festival de Vendimia (Grape Harvest Festival), which is celebrated sometime between February and April every year.

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With the Passage of Time …

Even more years – and a worldwide pandemic – have passed since my Peruvian wine adventures. With this passage of time, the Hotel Mossone in Huacachina and Nazca Lines Hotel have passed to the hands of the nation-wide hotelier chain, DM Hoteles. Perhaps the wines their restaurants now serve are of better quality. Unfortunately, it appears Restaurante El Viñedo in Arequipa no longer exists, yet another casualty of the COVID-19 pandemic.

Valle de Majes, though, continues to produce fine wines. The noble grape and its liqueurs are still fêted every year with the region’s Festival de Vendimia. Events include grape stomping, concerts, traditional dances, shows of Peru’s famous caballos de paso (Peruvian paso horse), gastronomy and – of course – the election of the Reina Señorita Vendimia beauty queen. Check here to find out the festival’s date for this year.