Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Panamania!
I was wrong about Panamanian food. I was thinking beans, cheese, some guacamole on the side... but now I am quick to realize my racism (that's Mexican, duh...) and know so much more about the subtleties of Panamanian fare. The trick to Panamanian food is this: there is no such thing as Panamanian food. Panama's history of being under the control of nation after nation has left its food without a truly individual identity of its own. Ask any Panamanian about what kind of food they eat, and they're most likely to respond, "um... chicken?"
With that in mind, Jenny and I trekked to what we wanted to eat without thinking of cultural immersion. After a saucy enchilada (Mexican), and then a perfectly wrapped Peking Duck (Chinese), we headed for what Jenny wanted most: pupusas (El Salvadorian).
Across from our hostel, was a little side-of-the-road cabin called Anita's, which advertised "pupusas, enchiladas, tamales". Anita's immediately became a priority. Pupusas are two thick corn tortillas welded together at the sides, stuffed with whatever. We chose cheese and refried beans. Anita's, possibly Anita herself, made our two pupuas with tender love and care... After fifteen minutes of anxiously awaiting, this arrived:
Pupusa's are, as Jenny says, "the perfect food". Eat with your hands, eat with a fork, eat with sauce, eat plain... however you do it, pupusas will hit the spot. Usually, the pancake comes with a side of spicy cabbage and sweet red sauce ("It's unbelievable! You think the red sauce will be spicy but then it's actually the cabbage!"- Jenny) but since we were in Panama, things were a little different. No red sauce, but just some sweet cabbage to top off the pupusa. Quite delicious.
The next day we ventured out of Panama city to Chame, a town that may or may not actually exist. Across from the side of the highway where our hostel was secretly placed, was this restaurant (Argentinian):
After going in four or five times for just a bottle of water, we finally sat down for a meal. It took 30 minutes for any waitress to notice us, then another half hour for the food to arrive, and over an hour for us to eat it. A long meal for just a side of the road truck stop.
We ordered the "half chicken with patacones". Patacones are fried plantains, possibly the most Panamanian food we ate the entire time, but really just Central American in general. They don't taste like much except for fried, but once we added the terrrrrrrrrrifyingly spicy i-want-to-die hot sauce, they basically taste like fried hot sauce.
Just so we're clear: a half chicken is A LOT of chicken. This picture comes from almost 3/4 of the way through the meal, and this chicken still has a long way to go before it's clean. We made it our personal missions to finish. It was so good... possibly the perfect roast chicken.. crispy skin with juicy meat. Not to mention the tongue-scorching hot sauce, the most perfect smelling chimichurri sauce, and the secret hidden-in-the-kitchen garlic sauce.
I am proud of my accomplishment. That was a LOT of chicken. Also, I was sick for almost all of Panama, so I kept having to blow my nose (hot sauce induced) and so by the end my plate looked like this:
I passed out about 20 minutes after finishing this meal.
Another reason for passing out: El Diablo, the 4:00 shot that Jenny and I met in Chame. Half tequila, half beer (Atlas beer, Panamanian) and then Tabasco hot sauce to top it off. Slap it down on the table so it fizzes and then gulp it down. Possibly the greatest way of experiencing Central America is just by introducing El Diablo in your life.
When we woke up the next morning, I was still recovering from chicken overload and Jenny said I smelled like chicken too. I wanted breakfast, something normal, maybe eggs (although on further thought, eggs are kind of chicken too?). But nope, Panama is not easy on the chicken hangover. Panamanians eat fried bread and pork for breakfast. Since I stay away from the pig, all I was left with was fried bread to ease by aching chicken stomach. Not what I really wanted, but when in Panama...
Words for the wise: when in Panama, make sure to bring some snacks. Not chocolate, though. You'll understand if you ever go there.
With that in mind, Jenny and I trekked to what we wanted to eat without thinking of cultural immersion. After a saucy enchilada (Mexican), and then a perfectly wrapped Peking Duck (Chinese), we headed for what Jenny wanted most: pupusas (El Salvadorian).
Across from our hostel, was a little side-of-the-road cabin called Anita's, which advertised "pupusas, enchiladas, tamales". Anita's immediately became a priority. Pupusas are two thick corn tortillas welded together at the sides, stuffed with whatever. We chose cheese and refried beans. Anita's, possibly Anita herself, made our two pupuas with tender love and care... After fifteen minutes of anxiously awaiting, this arrived:
Pupusa's are, as Jenny says, "the perfect food". Eat with your hands, eat with a fork, eat with sauce, eat plain... however you do it, pupusas will hit the spot. Usually, the pancake comes with a side of spicy cabbage and sweet red sauce ("It's unbelievable! You think the red sauce will be spicy but then it's actually the cabbage!"- Jenny) but since we were in Panama, things were a little different. No red sauce, but just some sweet cabbage to top off the pupusa. Quite delicious.
The next day we ventured out of Panama city to Chame, a town that may or may not actually exist. Across from the side of the highway where our hostel was secretly placed, was this restaurant (Argentinian):
After going in four or five times for just a bottle of water, we finally sat down for a meal. It took 30 minutes for any waitress to notice us, then another half hour for the food to arrive, and over an hour for us to eat it. A long meal for just a side of the road truck stop.
We ordered the "half chicken with patacones". Patacones are fried plantains, possibly the most Panamanian food we ate the entire time, but really just Central American in general. They don't taste like much except for fried, but once we added the terrrrrrrrrrifyingly spicy i-want-to-die hot sauce, they basically taste like fried hot sauce.
Just so we're clear: a half chicken is A LOT of chicken. This picture comes from almost 3/4 of the way through the meal, and this chicken still has a long way to go before it's clean. We made it our personal missions to finish. It was so good... possibly the perfect roast chicken.. crispy skin with juicy meat. Not to mention the tongue-scorching hot sauce, the most perfect smelling chimichurri sauce, and the secret hidden-in-the-kitchen garlic sauce.
I am proud of my accomplishment. That was a LOT of chicken. Also, I was sick for almost all of Panama, so I kept having to blow my nose (hot sauce induced) and so by the end my plate looked like this:
I passed out about 20 minutes after finishing this meal.Another reason for passing out: El Diablo, the 4:00 shot that Jenny and I met in Chame. Half tequila, half beer (Atlas beer, Panamanian) and then Tabasco hot sauce to top it off. Slap it down on the table so it fizzes and then gulp it down. Possibly the greatest way of experiencing Central America is just by introducing El Diablo in your life.
When we woke up the next morning, I was still recovering from chicken overload and Jenny said I smelled like chicken too. I wanted breakfast, something normal, maybe eggs (although on further thought, eggs are kind of chicken too?). But nope, Panama is not easy on the chicken hangover. Panamanians eat fried bread and pork for breakfast. Since I stay away from the pig, all I was left with was fried bread to ease by aching chicken stomach. Not what I really wanted, but when in Panama...
Words for the wise: when in Panama, make sure to bring some snacks. Not chocolate, though. You'll understand if you ever go there.
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