Eight or nine years ago, the wife and I traveled to the island of Antigua, where I discovered my favorite all-time dish, dukunu (a sweet cornmeal dumpling which is boiled and wrapped in banana leaves). Simply delicious, and whenever I meet someone from the Islands I immediately ask, “Are you all about the dukunu, or what?” Generally speaking, they stare blankly, wondering what the hell I’m talking about.
Now, I’ve found something to wash down the dukunu.
Here in Spain, one of the drinks of choice is Orxata. It’s a milky beige beverage—thick like a thin milkshake, made from made from tigernuts, water and sugar. My daughter says it reminds her of a coconut shake, but not quite as thick or sweet. It’s absolutely delicious, and—regrettably—unavailable in most parts of the United States. Sigh.
Growing up, I was never much of a foodie. Whatever Mom cooked, I ate. When we dined out (maybe once per week), it’d be at Family Affair or the Long Horn Stakepit—both American-themed restaurants with solid grub. Food just didn’t play that important of a role in our lives. When I met the wife, however, that changed—and I’m glad it did. Food makes travel. Food makes experiences. A smell or taste is as powerful as a song when it comes to remembering where you were at a certain point. For now on, the taste of Orxata will immediately reintroduce my Spanish adventure from 2010.
Ah, Orxata.
PS: We’re flying to France tomorrow for a few days. The airline costs, literally, $40 a ticket. Just read about a crash in Asia. Hate reading about crashes the night before I fly. The hypo in me. Ugh.
