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Published: August 11th 2006
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Last Saturday rolled around like any other day here in Barva. Mike and I made our way over to the Delgado’s to have some lunch at about noon and chat up the family a bit. Little did we know that Gerardo had other plans for us.
By the time we got to the house, Agnes (one of the daughters) had told us lunch would be ready in about an hour. Gerardo seized this opportunity to convince us to go to the bar with him for a beer while we waited. I was hesitant at first, knowing full well that he meant 3 or 4 beers and certainly not 1. However he looked so genuinely excited to take us out, that I couldn’t say no. It didn’t hit me that we’d be drinking at 12 in the afternoon until later….
Agnes gave us a look as we went out the door that told me she’d see us in a few hours - there was no way we were coming back in time for lunch. We walked into Barva, to a small bar in the center of town. Inside sat one of Gerardo’s brothers, having a few beers and watching the
soccer game. The place was dimly lit and not the best atmosphere considering the bartender was a “muy serio” (very serious) type of person. I ordered a Coke and got a laugh as apparently this bar only served beer. Instead I was given a Rock Ice which I guess is the “girl” beer here in CR. Gerardo wasn’t feeling the place at all and after one drink, he said we needed to go somewhere else. He told us with his actions that the bartender was way too serious for him and there were better people elsewhere.
Upon leaving the bar, he asked me if I liked to walk. I find that I tend to answer quickly here as my nervousness takes over from not being comfortable with the language and I tend to just want to get the answer out as fast as possible. “Claro” I answered him which basically means “of course”. Little did I know what we were in for…
A half hour later, we arrived at the next bar. Gerardo laughed as he said my face was quite red from the sun beating down on us and I noticed that the part in my hair
had in fact fried as well. What you don’t notice here is the heat. Because the temperature is so pleasant with such a nice cool breeze, you don’t even realize how brutal the sun really is. Needless to say, by the time we got to the bar, I was ready for a beer. For those of you who know me, you know how crazy that statement sounds as usually beer is the last thing on my mind when it comes to having a drink. Something told me however, that this place wasn’t serving red wine.
Another cold Rock Ice came my way which would have made 2 beers for me in the middle of the afternoon. We met a bunch of folks, talked to a guy named Don Pollo (which loosely translates to Mr. or Sir Chicken), and had a really good time as the beers kept coming. Number 3 went down without a second thought as I swear I get more fluent with each passing cerveza.
At that point, Mike made the mistake of asking the bartender what the difference was between the red-labeled Cacique and the blue-labeled Cacique (Cacique is Costa Rican manufacturer of liquor, including
the ever popular sugar-cane-based “Guaro”) I’ve come to learn that if you ask a question like that here , you’re in for it! The bartender immediately set up a shot for Mike so that he could “try” the difference. Oh joy and it’s only 1:30pm!
Rock Ice number 4 came around at about 2pm and Mike and Gerardo both laughed that they couldn’t believe I was holding my own. Hey, I went to college! The only thing that was worrying me was the walk home.
As number 4 came to it’s end, Gerardo got us a ride home with one of his friends. It was almost 3pm and Gerardo, Mike and I were quite tipsy. When we arrived back home, Agnes laughed and shook her head at us. She had a much welcomed lunch in front of us in five minutes.
After lunch, Gerardo said he was going to sleep which really sounded like a fine plan. HAHA. Mike and I came back to Matthew’s place and completely crashed. We got up for a little bit at about 8pm but quickly realized sleep was still calling us. We didn’t get up until the next morning! What a
bunch of “borrachos” (drunks).
Even though a part of me felt like the day was a bit wasted in terms of “getting things done” we really did have a great time. It was nice meeting some of Gerardo’s friends and being able to just sit back, relax and enjoy the company of those around us.
On a side note: I’m addicted to salt in case you didn’t know. Salt is not something that’s easy to come by here in Costa Rica so when Mike came home last night with a tiny package of Sal Inglaterra (which translates to “England Salt”), I was in my glory. I actually think I did a dance.
Our fish dinner was made with just a touch but I insisted on adding more as always. If I can't see it, I can't taste it! As Matthew, Michael and I sat down to dinner, I couldn’t wait to dig in. Matthew was commenting on how good everything was but I took one bite and with all my strength, swallowed and smiled. No sense in offending the cook but honestly, mine wasn’t so good. I put more salt on the fish, hoping it would get
better, to no avail. I ate quietly, loading up on the green beans which were pretty good. After dinner, as we sat at the table just talking about the day, I put my finger in the salt package and then into my mouth in the hopes of getting this horrid taste off my palate from what I thought was the fish, when I realized something was seriously wrong. There was no way this was salt! I immediately made Matthew and Michael try it to which they both had the same reaction which was to spit it out quickly into the sink. It was then that we read the ingredients….. EPSON SALT! Not only had my dinner been made with Epson Salt but I had seriously loaded my meal up with it, to the point that I could see the tiny white flakes on each disgusting bite. Nasty! We all laughed but quickly got on the Internet to see if we were going to die. Luckily people take this mineral internally but all I could think about was that we used to soak horses hooves in this stuff to get abscesses to draw out! Michael’s memories of soaking in Epsom Salt weren’t helping the situation as we all sat around looking a bit piqued for the rest of the night.
The next day, Michael told the family about our little “mistake”. They had quite a laugh. Poor Mike, who said he prides himself on being a good cook and being great with the language, had truly botched this one. Not only was he a bit off with the language but our entire meal was cooked in good ole Magnesium Sulfate! Poor guy…
Luckily, today we found REAL salt and all is well. No one died overnight and it did make for a good laugh. For those of you moving here, you want to buy Sal Solar or something along those lines. Check the ingredients before you buy as the Magnesium Sulfate looks exactly the same as regular salt, was in the seasoning section, and even says on the package in Spanish “The Secret of the Kitchen” - for what, cleaning the kitchen!? Yet another lesson learned.
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Kathia
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Secrets of your kitchen
I am from Costa Rica and all that I remember about Sal Inglaterra is that you use it to wash off scales of the fish. That is a secret that people have from a long time ago. That is why I think it would be with the spices and say "the secret of the kitchen" on the bag.