Grilling at the Casa

I am getting settled in at my new house in Bogota. Two and a half weeks at the house and it is starting to feel more like a home. What is refreshing about Latin American cities (and to generalize large cities with a lot of foot traffic) is making a niche in your own barrio. Across the street is the small tienda I stop by nearly every day either for yogurt, a couple apples, some butter or perhaps eggs. The same man and boys are always working. They come from a town outside of Bogota called Boyaca and therefore speak in a different accent and talk VERY fast. However they are quickly becoming familiar faces. The man behind the counter always greets people as neighbor or cousin or today I was even called little princess.  The bakery two blocks away is always teeming with people and the enticing smell of fresh bread. Every time I stop in, I point at something new and ask what it is. Croissants filled with bocadillo (a sweet paste made from guayaba fruit) or corazon pastries which are perfectly crisp and sweet to dip in coffee are two of my favorites.

My house is referred to as "Casa de Pulgas" which translates into Flea House. But before you hop on a plane down here to rescue me from bed bugs, I will admit I have not seen one flea yet. I can't exactly tell you the origin of the name, but can say the house has been an international one for quite some time. The current housemates include Sami - a Colombian boy who is studying French at the National University, Bertille - a French girl who is doing a university exchange here to study Political Science, Yurri - a Colombian girl who studies Human Rights and Peggy - a misnomer for a black male cat who can open doors, climb out windows, play fetch and has many other dog like qualities. We share many evenings drinking tea or hot chocolate and swapping stories and cultural phrases. I have learned the phrase "It's on the tip of my tongue" can be directly translated in Spanish and French to be used in the exact same situations. I also learned a nursery rhyme where an elephant balances on a spider thread and calls over more friends to join him (it does end eventually with the thread breaking). My personal favorite is a phrase "Se me fue la paloma" which is used when one can not think of the word or phrase he is looking for. It directly translates as "The dove has left me". I wish we had something so beautiful in English. I will say however I saw my housemate laugh hardest when I told him the sound a rooster makes in English "Cooockadoooodledooo". You didn't know chickens spoke Spanish? Well hear they say Kikirki or Kokoriko. The smart ones sing all three.

The roommates and I spend many evenings cooking. Friends of Sami are always in and out of the house and are quickly becoming friends of all of the housemates. Last weekend we had an
"asado" or barbecue on the porch. Bertille was in charge of Patacones. You start by chopping a plantain into pieces.

Next you fry them in oil until there are a nice golden color.

Then you flatten them into flat cakes and of course fry them again. They are delicious although no so nutritious. We also enjoyed grilled corn, onion, tomatoes, ribs and chicken legs. It was a great feast that lasted for hours. The evening was topped off with grilled bananas sliced down the middle with melted chocolate inside. It was a creation I had never heard of before, but I trust the French when it comes to food and Bertille has not let me down once.