Abrams Family World Travel

Buenos Aires: Happiness Comes In An Organic Box

I'm not sure what it is about bountiful, beautiful organic produce that makes me feel like a kid in a toy store. Every time I see a farmer's market, a crops stall or get a delivery of organic harvests my mood is elevated to the highest level. Being around such vibrant colours and life seems to release the happy chemical in my brain - and this is without even eating it!

You can imagine my delight when we found an organic delivery scheme in our neighbourhood, Palermo Viejo in Buenos Aires from El Rincón Orgánico. It was a fairly straightforward process, too. We went online to their website (all in Spanish), placed our order and it was brought to our door. It was cash on receipt. Zenchai would say "Easy peezey squashed slug squeezey."

We ordered the Caja Express Mixta - Chica for $125AR or £20/$32. It was plentiful, too. We go through a ton of fresh produce so it didn't last us an entire week, but it was a fabulous addition to what was available from our local mercado.

This is a picture of me the night BEFORE the delivery. My only excuse is that it must have been the anticipation!

AbramsFamilyWorldTravel Tip:

There are many other organic delivery companies and options. To find the most recent listings pick-up a free copy of Guia Natural Urbana & Orgánica, which also has an abundace of other useful resources.

Kukljica: More Random Acts of Kindness

FOR days whenever passing the home of the Apricot Lady, we'd hoped to see her, to ask if her delicious apricots were for sale. But she'd suddenly gone into hiding.

Instead, we had to pass her tree, full of ripe-looking fruit, and just dream of what could be. However, one evening I had a stroke of luck. On the way to the village early in the evening as the sun was setting, I passed her home and there she was, tending to something in the front yard.

I stopped to chat and asked - in Croatian, of course - if her apricots were for sale, not forgetting to say how extraordinary the ones she'd given us were.

But, disappointingly, her answer was a kind 'no'. She said the apricots weren't ready, in spite of how they looked. We carried on chatting.

She told me how her apricots were 'real home-grown' and not what you'd often find in the market. You could taste the difference, I told her. We then cheerily said our goodbyes.

About an hour later, on my way back, I saw her sitting up front, doing some knitting. Her head was down, so I said nothing and passed by.

 But she called out to me. I turned around and she asked me to wait, before dashing inside. The excitement building inside me - more for Jamie and Zenchai than myself - I prayed she'd come out with some of those mouth-watering apricots.

I waited. In her arms were five large red tomatoes from her margnificent garden, lush with fruit and vegetables.

"How much?" I asked. "No. This is for you," she insisted, grinning from ear to ear. I thanked her and set off.

PS. Just in case you are wondering, Apricot Lady did not stack them on me like I was a market stall - that would be my other half.

Kukljica: Watermelon Eater

Daddy and I hurried along to the market so we could choose the best watermelon. My wing-mirrors were essential in helping us pick the juiciest and biggest one.  

 I just couldn't wait for it to be sliced. 

But, when I was given my first piece I chomped away like mad.

I had no control over myself. I kept munching, the watermelon rinds magically kept piling up on my plate, and I was licking my lips for more.

Really, I had no choice. I ate my Croatian watermelon in the only fashion possible - sloppy and drippy with the juice running everywhere. Maybe I really am the number one watermelon eater?

 

Planet Earth: Self-Professed Foodie

As a self-professed foodie, I am continually thinking about food: how to veganize a recipe; make it with a higher raw content; where to buy the best ingredients or just plain ol’ day dreaming about eating something luscious. It is just something I can’t help. 

When we arrived in Zadar before heading out on the ferry to Kukljica, we stopped by the local outdoor market for some fresh produce. Cherries, apricots, peaches were all in season and more yummy things blessed the stalls, too. 

From my last visit to Croatia, I remembered how delicious the local cherries and strawberries were. And Claude has always talked fondly of his childhood summer days of picking figs, apricots and peaches from the trees here. 

To be sure I was getting the real deal, I kept prodding him to ask the vendors if their produce was local. Beautifully enough, most of what the sellers had was home grown. 

Even when we were in Ecuador we bought most of our produce from farmer’s markets. Everything we purchased was locally cultivated and in season (excluding some apples we bought that had been transported from Argentina – but after we found a stall selling local apples we bought those instead). 

Thus far on our travels we have found it much easier to eat seasonal, natively grown produce. Whether that is due to a less westernized approach to buying foods solely in supermarkets or the sheer abundance of markets is hard to tell. 

So where am I going with all this locally grown in-season talk? 

I picked up a book in an American airport when we were in transit back to London from Ecuador. I usually don’t buy books in bookstores. I prefer to get hand-me-downs from Amazon, but this one really caught my eye. So I paid the top-end price and bought it. 

It is called Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver. It is the tale of one American family that vowed for one year that they’d only buy food raised in their own neighborhood, grow it themselves or learn to live without it. 

Now I am only a few chapters in, but I am already feeling the walloping weight of its important message. I was already aware of many of the author’s concerns. However, the light in which it is delivered has had my head spinning with the sustainability of the way we eat as a family. 

I have been asking myself the question that why when I am in London supermarkets am I not as discerning about getting in-season produce? Then in only the way humans can, I justify it with how the English climate makes it more difficult to get a variety of vegan foods in ones’ diet. 

In fairness I would never buy out of season strawberries. I made a point to get organic veg deliveries from English farms, go to pick-your-own farms, tried growing a selection of greens and would shamelessly beg off my green-fingered friends for some of their goods. 

More to the point, I am thinking about how our vegan lifestyle is going to be sustainable for the future. At this moment in time being a vegan family is right for us and I hope it always will be. 

However, being vegan does present its challenges but the rewards are also tremendous. As a family we eat a hugely varied diet. I have been known to order exotic ingredients for desserts or special ingredients to enhance our diets. But I don’t want that variety to come between us and the health of the planet. 

My ultimate dream for us is to have a plot of land where we grow most of our own food and supplement our crops with what our neighbours have produced. I want to know where my food has come from, to intimately get to know my food and share this with Zenchai. I don’t really cherish the idea of eating fruits or vegetables that have travelled thousands of miles to make it to our dinner table. 

No sane person can argue against how fruits and vegetables taste the sexiest when they are freshly picked or cut from the garden. 

I would like to think that our veganism is reducing our food footprint. But in my heart of hearts I know we can do better. I look forward to the day when I can sit down to a meal of food from our garden. I know it is within our reach. 

How can you make it within yours?

Puerto Lopez: Jewel and the junk

Larger in size than Montañita, Puerto Lopez is also cleaner – marginally. It’s a fishing village, though, and the pungent aroma of sea creatures fills the air.

Given we don’t eat fish and prefer to self-cater, the food market – lacking in variety, quality average, no coconuts or avocados, both of which have been abundant elsewhere – was somewhat disappointing.

For eating out, the choices seemed fewer than in Montañita. 

However, there is a real jewel in this village: Hosteria Mandála. The accommodation, which has been there about a decade and was started from scratch by its Italian (a real character from Milan) and Swiss (Basel) co-owners who met in the Galapagos Islands, is extensive and tastefully decorated.

There is a library, music room, games room (every board game you can think of) and even a whale museum of sorts. It is child-friendly with many great wooden toys, puzzles, games and even beach playthings, there’s a restaurant, cactus garden, herb garden, hammock areas everywhere and wonderful plants attracting butterflies and humming birds. Also, there’s wifi, but it didn’t extend to the rooms, but Mandála has a wonderfully comfortable lounge where you can relax with your computer if necessary.

The beach, though, was not up to scratch. It extends right in front of and beyond the hotel, but is not as clean as in Montañita (watch out for the small, but stinging jelly fish that sometimes get washed ashore). A short walk along the beach in each direction from Mandala is lots of litter, food, dead birds and even washed-up turtles.

Sadly, it seems as if no one has made it their job to keep the beach anywhere near immaculate. Mandála was beautiful - and the staff very helpful - but the surroundings a let-down. 

By the time our four-day stay was over we were happy to move on. We set off north towards Bahia and then Canoa. It’s an ordeal. We started by bus, then changed buses after 2.5 hours, took a bicycle tuc-tuc ($1) from the bus stop in Bahia to the harbour, a boat across the water to San Vicente and then a taxi (for $5) to Canoa. On the map it didn’t seem like it would take long, but door-to-door the journey required around six hours by public transport. 

Vilcabamba's Sunday Market Guide

What you need to know: 

 Vilcabamba has a fruit, vegetable and sundries market every Sunday morning from 6am in front of the bus terminal. Now, I have been told it is best to arrive around 6:30am in order to snap-up the organic stuff (I usually rolled-up around 7am and was fine). There are a few sellers that sell only organic items and it does go quickly. However, you'll also find that most of the other sellers' produce will be organic too - they can't really afford the pesticides and other yuckies. 

Who you should meet: 

 If you need a little something to kick your brain into motion stop to see Dennis and Maria. You can't miss them. Their table is covered with mounds of wheatgrass and a strong old fellah churning the manual juicer. They offer a palatable green juice with wheatgrass for the handsome price of $1. You can also speak to them about their green juice home delivery. (Dennis is from the US and Maria's English is good too.) 

Two stalls over from the green juice-givers are the super-affectionate Jose and his helper Yasu. Jose sells only organic items. He often has integral rice, lentils, spices, sea salt, quinoa and some of the most delectable greens - ever! If he has some of his 'Omega Greens' (apparently they have more omega in it than fish) available, buy them. They really are scrumptious with their fatty-looking leaves. (Jose speaks a little English, but I always practiced my Spanish and Yasu, from Japan, has great English, too.) 

 Usually just behind Jose and Yasu is Peter, the coconut man from Germany. He has stacks of coconuts that he'll pop open for you on the spot and even split it in half so you can have the flesh as well. There is no doubt that Peter is passionate about his coconuts. He tries to source organic coconuts and is quite intuitive at telling whether a coconut will have lots of water or lots of flesh. Depending on the size of your coconut, it will set you back between $1 - $1.50. 

Abrams Family Market Tips: take small change - most things are under $1, conserve the Earth by taking your own reusable bags / baskets; it is easy to get to know the sellers - they are always in the same place each week and plan on spending up to an hour there socialising. I always walked away from the market high on the knowledge I was buying local and mostly organic. 

My bags were filled with luscious food and my heart with the earthly connection to the glorious market people.   

PS. There is also a much larger, cheaper and authentically Ecuadorian market in the neighbouring village of Malacatos.