So yes, I was afraid of my Brazilian made stove. Once I finally acquired a gas tank and hooked it up I was convinced that I was going to blow myself up somehow. It took many attempts to light it the first time and when I didn’t blow up I felt reassured. The first meal I made was pasta with an oil, garlic and lemon sauce. I didn’t have olive oil at the time so I had to use vegetable oil, but still, I was so happy to have cooked something that it tasted just fine. Thankfully I have acquired olive oil and my Italian ancestors can stop rolling over in their graves. Speaking of travesties against Italian cooking you would not believe what my friend Elliot told me about Bolivians and pasta. I already knew that Bolivians don’t cook pasta correctly, it is usually way overcooked, soggy and sometimes burnt and for some reason they fry it first, just like they do when cooking rice. Well it turns out that just like rice they also cook the water off of it. My jaw dropped and exactly half of my blood curled when I heard that. Pasta does not absorb as much water as rice; you can’t cook the water off of it! Anyway, they mostly eat it in soup or with a little oil as a side along with rice and potatoes; it is never a main feature of the meal. For me, it makes up a large part of my diet and I think I’ve nearly perfected my tomato sauce recipe. I even channeled a 1950s housewife and made a casserole one day. I didn’t even think I knew what a casserole was, but I had this leftover cream of asparagus soup that wasn’t very good and I had to do something 
with it and hey, it turned out pretty good. A high point in my Italian cooking was when I made pizza in my landlady’s clay oven that she uses to make bread. Even with campo cheese instead of mozzarella and tomato extract instead of my own tomato sauce it tasted delicious and everyone liked it. None of them had tried pizza before and my dueña was convinced that I was making some kind of bread and I kept explaining that yes, there’s dough but it’s more than just bread. I’ve also made pizza in my Dako, which turned out really well and was equally enjoyed by Bolivians and me. I’m also learning to make all kinds of bread which is great, who ever has time to make bread in the states (except for you Jessalynn)? I made tortillas and pita bread so far and would like to give bagels a try…oh bagels…I thought that my lack of a refrigerator would really limit my dairy options but they don’t refrigerate campo cheese and I think it’s unpasturized anyway and I haven’t gotten sick so while it’s cold enough to just keep it in my room, I do. I am also totally addicted to powdered milk. I was skeptical at first but it’s actually really good. A mug of warm milk with a spoonful of sugar and a piece of bread is a typical campo dinner and it’s totally delicious. Plus, I need milk for cooking and baking so it’s super convenient. It was around the time that I discovered the greatness of powdered milk that I became addicted to Oreos. I had a 2 pack a day habit (4 cookies/pack) for a few weeks but I’m glad to say I’m recovered. It was just the only snack that was delicious and relatively cheap. Luckily I discovered some quality Bolivian dark chocolate that I can get in Tarija and I got some packages from the states with some quality US of A candy (thanks Mom, Jessalynn, Michelle and Vishu for that!) Bolivians especially enjoyed the sour patch kids I got, they were like whoa, first it’s sour and then it’s sweet. Okay, this makes me sound like a junk food junkie but actually I am eating super healthy. Oatmeal almost every day for breakfast, rice and beans, tons of fresh organic veggies, quinoa, lentils and trigo (a wheat grain that is delicious and super healthy, I don’t know why we don’t have this in the states) and so on. The crazy thing is that all this incredibly healthy food is super cheap here. You can get a kilo of flax seed for $1. A kilo of oatmeal is also $1 and Bolivians don’t eat oatmeal the way we do, they blend it and drink it. One volunteer told me how her family cooked oatmeal, then drained it, threw away the oatmeal and drank the water. One time Peter and I were contemplating all the fresh veggies that they sell in the markets and the typical Bolivian diet. Bread and tea for breakfast, soup for lunch, meat, potatoes and rice for dinner and not a vegetable to be found. “Who’s buying all those peppers?” we wondered, could it just be us? Then I remembered that Picay Machu has peppers in it, but still. I’m hoping to have some nutrition and cooking classes at the women’s center, when they’re done constructing it.
As for Bolivian food, well there remains much of it that I can’t eat, although I am guiltily enjoying fish that comes from the river over here. I did find street food in Bermejo that I can actually eat, these papas rellenas, which are bits of fried goodness, potatoes with campo cheese almost like a knish in consistency. The only problem is that I seek them out at every empanada stand and I seem to have a quota and must eat 5 of them every time I’m in the city. But like I said, I’m eating healthy at home so I don’t feel too bad about it. There’s also one empanada lady that has cheese and onion empanadas instead of the ubiquitous chicken or meat ones but she is like the big foot of empanada stands, you think you know where to find her but then she’s never there and then one day when you least expect it you find her again.
One of my favorite Bolivian meals was cooked in the campo in between the river and the women’s garden. They had been watering the potatoes all morning and still had a lot of work to do and no one had brought food or was going to cook. I said I could go back and get food if they wanted so they sent me with this girl named Estella and we did this thing called “mercado” where we went to all their houses and had their kids or whoever was home give us rice, vegetables and plates. We put all the stuff into a huge pot and carried it back to the garden. We started a fire, heated some water from the river and Doña Aleja started peeling and cutting everything in that magical way that Bolivian women can peel and cut, super fast and completely in their hand, it’s really incredible. If there is a Bolivian skill I hope to learn it would have to be that. So we ended up making a pretty tasty soup out of what we had and everyone ate lunch and at the end of the day when we had finally finished watering all the potatoes, we finished off what was left of the soup.I have to say I’m very proud of how pretty much none of my food goes to waste. With the incredible humidity down here (both hot and cold) I was really worried about things getting moldy and going bad super fast. I usually play 2 games when it comes to food. First, “Will Michelle eat it?” I have to stay my standards on what is acceptable to eat have changed now that I don’t have refrigeration and yet still have leftovers. But if it so happens that something is past due even by my campo standards I play a new game, “Will a chicken eat it?” Whatever food item is in question is thrown into the yard where my dueñas chickens are hanging out and then I watch to see if they will eat it or not. For those of you playing at home, the answer is always yes, a chicken will eat it, and it doesn’t matter at all what “it” is. But now that I’ve started an indoor compost bin I’m playing that game less (yes, I’m that into composting.)
Well, I know you were all dying to know what I’ve been eating so there you have it. Dako and I are very happy together. At times he can be temperamental and I know it can’t last, when I go back to the states he will have to stay here in Bolivia, but we’re enjoying the time that we do have together. My friend Elliot is a hardcore veg and an excellent cook with his very own Dako and he is going to teach me how to make tofu and soymilk and I can’t wait! Provecho!
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