Alright folks, I'm rewinding a bit here with an old post that I never put up. Back in April I started taking a salsa class. I loved it, and I learned a lot, but my attendance only lasted a month. The schedule for the class didn't mesh very well with my own, the class ended close to 10 at night, and the studio was located half way across town. Anyways, for various reasons, I dropped out of the class but hoped that I could pick it back up later in the year, and in turn,  finish writing this post. 
Welp, life happened and I never made it back to salsa class....but...I decided I'd go ahead and finish the post anyways. If nothing else, you get a nice little salsa recipe out of it, and you get to chuckle at my attempts at some fancy footwork. 
Que disfruten!

Salsa for a crowd
Ingredients:
1 can of black beans, drained and rinsed.
1 can of sweet corn, drained and rinsed (alternatively, you could use fresh sweet corn roasted on the grill, which would probably be fantastic)
1 large onion
4 cloves of garlic (more or less to taste)
1 large avocado
7-8 roma tomatoes
1-2 limes
1 bunch cilantro
pinch of salt

1. Dice up your tomatoes and onions and toss them in a large bowl with your rinsed and drained corn and beans. 
2. Finely chop the garlic and toss it in. 

3. Grab a big bunch of cilantro, give it a rough chop, and toss it in the bowl.
4. Dice up your avocado. 

5. Squeeze the lime all over the mixture and stir it together gently. At this point you can add a pinch of salt, but generally there is enough salt in the canned beans that I don't add it when I'm eating this myself. If you do add the salt,  make sure you serve the salsa that day, as salt will draw out the liquid in the tomatoes as it sits in the fridge, making your salsa a bit watery. It still tastes good, but doesn't make for the nicest presentation.
P.S. I also really like to add chopped mango to this salsa when its in season. That salty sweet combo just can't be beat!

Voila!! Perfecto!

And now for a different kind of salsa. 

Ok so I'm dancing with Jake here.  He and Fabian (dancing in the video below with our female salsa istructor) introduced me to the class, which is called La Escuela de Salsa Golden Boy (yes, our male salsa instructor calls himself Golden Boy....I don't think I actually ever learned his first name, haha). In any case, they are much better than I am. I am just trying to keep up!!

After a scrumptious fresh caught fish lunch, I packed up my meager belongings and headed to the bus stop to catch a guagua to Samana. One leaves every 15 minutes and I happened to catch one just as it was pulling out of the "station."  I was the only passenger on the bus. 
This did't completely shock me, since I knew the chofe (chauffer/driver) would stop and pick up more passengers along the route. 
What did shock me though, was that he stopped to buy shoes.
Not even joking. 
A Haitian vendor was situated on the outskirts of town, and since I was still the only passenger, he thought it was cool to do a little shopping on the job. 
"Mometito," he called to me in the back, and then went to peruse the selection and haggle over prices.
5 minutes later we were on the road again.
My first inclination was to be perturbed by this personal errand, (after all I'd prefer to spend as little time in transport between destinations as possible) but then I decided I'd rather be amused. 
My amusement was not to stop there though. 
On our next stop out of town we picked up a gentleman outside of a colmado drinking a litro of beer. He brought the litro and 2 styrofoam cups along with him and hopped into the front seat, promptly pouring himself a cup and then pouring one for the driver. 
Amidst our other stops on the way to Samaná, the driver pulled over twice more and all the passengers had to wait while he picked up more litros of beer for himself and the front seat passengers to share. 
Just wish he would have passed some along to the back :)
Only in the Dominican Republic, haha. 

In Samaná I caught a bus to Las Terrenas, and another hour and fifteen minute bus trip later,  I was smiling next to Sydney and David and Sydney´s mom at our hostal, Casas del Mar y Neptunia. I have stayed there once before, but it bears repeating that the hostal is made up of some pretty darn cute little bungalows. 

Fast forward a little bit and we were all four walking to dinner at La Yuca Caliente...a classy little restaurante brushing up against the sea. 

We cheersed to the good fortune of being together in such a beautiful place, and then we got down to the business of eating. 

I mopped up every last bite of my clams marinera and sipped cool wine as the sunset. 
There is nothing better on a sultry seaside Dominican evening than good company, good food, and a beautiful view.

(My overall thoughts on La Yuca Caliente...nice atmosphere and very reasonably priced, especially compared to the other seafront restaurants. Just be sure to bring your own water since they charge 90 pesos for a bottle that you can find at a  colmado for 15)

The next morning, after a nice beach jog, Sydney and I headed back to enjoy our hostal´s free breakfast. Having nothing to do but enjoy the beautiful weather, I decided to just sip on my coffee and lounge with my computer most of the morning to get caught up on some blogging. Maybe you´ve noticed the increased number of posts lately?
In any case, it was glorious. The breakfast. The coffee. The weather. The relaxing. Everything. A perfectly beautiful way to spend a Saturday morning. 
But you know me, I can´t sit still for too long. And soon I was throwing on a swimsuit and headed to the beach. 

After some light reading, I took a little stroll, and who should I run into but Rolexis and their cousin Boli!
Boli and Rolando were having a ball with a stray beach pup. 
Im not sure who was having more fun, the pup or the boys. 

Alexis and I, having already soaked up a little too much sun, opted for the slightly cooler option of hanging out under the palms with piña coladas. 

We also had the pleasure of a serenade from a traveling musician. 
Note that weird ball strapped to his foot.....its actually a maraca! Perfect for tapping time while strumming out old Spanish love ballads. 

We sipped and sang until sunset, and then I meandered home to wash up and find something with a little more sustenance than pineapples and rum. 

After strolling up and down the beachfront, I finally settled on a little pizza joint with an open kitchen where you could see the pizzas being rolled and thrown into the fire. 

Although sorely tempted, I opted for a salad to stay on the healthy side.

To round out the evening, Alexis ditched her tuckered out man at the hotel and we headed out for gelato and a little girl time. What´s the fun in being too healthy after all?

The next morning, Sydney and I were up with the sunshine for a brisk stroll through town and lots of yoga. 
God bless that girl for always wanting to work out bright and early with me. 

We got to see the sleepy town come to life on our stroll as shop keepers began brushing off the sidewalks and the smell of fresh-baked French bread wafted through the air. . 

A good stretch is just what I needed before the next leg of my journey: a long bus trip to Bayahibe on the next guagua out of town. 

I rolled out of bed with the sunshine and made a hop-skip-and-a-jump to the beach. The early morning sun was already warming up the sand between my toes and causing the tops of the rippling waves to glitter like diamonds. 
But I was on a mission. I was determined to make my way to Playa Frontón. 

The beach in Las Galeras is fine. The water is nice and shallow and great for a dip, but the shoreline is a bit rocky and the sandy parts are mostly covered in washed up seaweed. The real attraction of Las Galeras are the surrounding beaches: Playa Rincon, Playa Fronton, Playa Madam, Playa de Amantes, among others. Many of these surrounding beaches, like Playa Fronton, are virtually virgin. Unlike the other beaches throughout the D.R., you won´t find any beach-side restaurants, lounge chairs, piña coladas, or vendors disturbing your peace to sell you sea shell bracelets and massages. Nope, these beaches are relatively untouched. In the case of Playa Fronton, you can´t even get there by car, you must rent a lancha (small boat) or hike your way through the jungla (jungle). 
After chatting with some of the locals at the boat launch (there is always a gang of 8-10 guys hanging out at the beachfront waiting to take you wherever your heart desires), I was told that the next boat for Frontón would be leaving soon and it would cost me 800 pesos (20 dollars). 
Do NOT pay that much.
I bargained down to 600 pesos, although a sharper bargainer than I (and maybe one that doesn´t look quite so American) could probably get the price even lower. 
While waiting for the other passengers to arrive, I struck up a conversation with one of the boat guides to find out what was what at Playa Fronton. I asked him if I should be bringing along any food and water since I hadn´t packed any and hadn´t had breakfast. 
The next thing I knew he was leading me through town and back behind a row of shacks to an abandoned lot with a mata de mangos. We scoured the ground for the good fruit and then climbed up on top of the roof of the decrepit cement building to pick even more. By the time we were finished I had a bag full of mangos to make it through the day and plenty to share.  

I rinsed two of the mangos in the sea and ate them right there, the juice sopping all down my chin and fingers. There´s just no way to eat a fresh mango without getting a little messy, but that´s the beauty of it.  
Soon enough I was hopping into a boat and headed off for a jostling little ride on turquoise waves. 

And this is where I ended up. 

What I loved most about this beach is how the mountains meet the shoreline. Simply stunning. 
If you wander around behind the palm trees a little bit, you´ll find some stony ruins built alongside the cliffs. 

I was particularly lucky on this day because I found even more than that! I found a cliff-climbing couple from Spain scaling a vertical wall of rock with ropes and hooks. They were professional mountain climbers and took their gear with them wherever they went on vacation. 
And they let me strap up and give it a go!!
Regretfully, I don´t have any pictures to document this little escapade....so since there´s no photographic evidence, you´ll have to trust me when I say I climbed to a frightening height. Once I couldn´t feel my arms any more from clinging to the cliffside like a terrified spider, I decided it was time to let go. I unpried my fingers from their death grip and rappelled down the mountain to safety, wondering the whole time what I had been so scared about. 

After thanking my new friends for the adventure, I made my way back to the beach to cool off in the crystal water (mountain climbing is hard work!) and soak up the sun. 

One can only do so much soaking though, and soon I was ready for another adventure. One of the boat guides, Daniel, mentioned he was going to hike back to Las Galeras on foot. Seeing a chance for a little exercise and a nice trek through the jungla, I opted to join him. 

I´m glad I did! It was a sweaty up and down climb, and Daniel wasn´t one to wait up for slackers, but it was fun trying to keep up. He really was an excellent guide though, and every time we passed a mango tree, which was a lot, he stopped to tell me the variety and point out the differences between one type of mango and another. And I tried them all! Big ones, little ones, round golf ball sized ones, flat football shaped ones, greenish blue, greenish pink, yellow, and sunset colored. The forest floor was littered with them. Each and every one delicious. 

Is there anything more beautiful than a mata de mangos?
I ate nothing but mangos the entire day and have never been so happy in my life. 

After about an hour the path diverged into two, and we had the option of heading up to the top of one of the tallest mountains in the area, or down to Las Galeras. 
Of course I chose to go up. 

The view was worth every step. 

I made it back to Las Galeras, tired to the bone and happy to the soul, just in time to see the sun sink beneath the sea. 
Soon, I myself was also doing some sinking...into the soft sheets of my bed, where visions of mango juice danced in my head. 

The next morning I sprung out of bed like a grasshopper at 6:30 a.m. I had spent part of my long trek home the day before arranging the details for my next quest.....

Harpoon fishing!!!

After rounding up the gear and ironing out some details (like going to the house of our sleeping harpooner to wake him up), I found myself  in a pair of flippers walking backwards into the sea through the shallow coral and trying not to step on any sea urchins. 
Jónaton (pronounced Joan-ah-tone), my guide, and I spent nearly 3 hours snorkeling and navigating our way through the coral reefs hidden below the glassy surface of el mar. 
Jonaton probably took me farther than a half mile from the shore line and we covered at least several miles of water in our journey. Surprisingly enough, I never got tired as the sea water was salty enough to keep me bouyant on the surface without too much effort. 
I wish I could put into words how absolutely amazing this experience was. I felt like the Little Mermaid. Except I was a little mermaid on a mission: to find and kill Nemo. Ok, that sounds pretty gruesome, but in all fairness, harpoon fishing is a pretty fair sport. The fishies have as much chance to escape capture as the harpooner has to catch them...knowing where they are and anticipating their movements is a practiced skill. Which is why I didn´t actually do any harpooning myself; I wanted to avoid any possible scenario in which I had to explain to my parents that I had accidentally harpooned my own leg. Maybe the next trip. For now, I left the tough stuff to Jonaton, who was an expert. Shy and sweet on land, he turned into a barracuda under the water. I trailed behind him, taking in the scenery and keeping a lookout for sharks (I don´t actually think there are any sharks in that water...but when you are in the middle of the ocean you can´t help thinking about it). The scenery, by the way, was breathtaking and I learned a few new vocab words along the way too. For example, the two giant sting rays sailing beneath me like kites I came to find out are called Manta Rayas...or in slang Cholos. The striped eel was appropriately nicknamed a pez machete. I also saw an inky black octopus, a blue crab the size of my hand feeding himself with his crabby claws, a vibrant orange star fish bigger than my head, tons of tiny jellyfish which lit up like they had live wires for veins and which I vigorously tried to avoid, and fish in every color imaginable, including the bright red pez cotorra (parrot fish) that Jonaton was stalking through the deep. 
In the end we ended up with 5 nice little red fish, a giant conch shell, and a lobster. Not a bad little catch. 

"Pero tu ´sta peligroso!"
"Wow, you´re dangerous!" That´s what the onlookers said to Jonaton as as we walked back along the beach to the boat launch with our prizes. Sweet, shy Jonaton just smiled, and I couldn´t stop smiling either.  

Look closely, you can still the scuba mask outline on my forehead. I know this because a little Dominican boy made fun of me for it when I was coming out of the water. 

One of Jonaton´s friends at the boat launch cleaned the conch shell for me as a souvenir and removed the critter (lambí in Spanish) still inside so we could cook him up with the rest of the catch.

We gave the catch to the señoras at Restaurante Modesta, an authentic little thatch-roofed Dominican joint right on the beach, and run by a smiling, wrinkly Señora Modesta herself. They had everything cooked up in a matter of minutes and served it with tostones, arroz, and ensalada. Since Jonaton and I clearly did not need 5 fish to ourselves, we shared with the rest of the boys on the beach and made sure nothing went to waste. 

This was my first time trying real lobster! And nothing tastes better than the lobster you caught yourself. 
Ok, I didn´t actually "catch" it myself, don´t get so technical on me, mister. But I did make sure no sharks ate Jonaton while he was harpooning and that was an important job. Definitely worthy of a lobster

I would love to tell you exaclty how to go about finding your own harpooning expedition at Las Galeras, but all you really have to do is ask around. Find Jonaton if you can. The whole 3 hour excursion, including full rights to whatever we caught, only cost me 700 pesos. (plus I gave 200 to the ladies at El Restaurante Modesta for cooking the catch). If you went out to any restaurant and ordered lobster, it would probably cost you about that much, and you wouldn´t get the 3 hours of fun and the extra 5 fish and conch shell souvenir to boot). 
Best experience ever!

The Dominican transportation system can only be described as a blessing and a curse. On the blessing side, you can generally get to wherever you need to go for rather cheap. On the curse side, you will travel at snail pace. Case in point: I left at 9:30 in the morning from the Transporte Pepe bus stop in Santiago. I switched buses at Samana, and made it to my destination, the sleepy fishing village of Las Galeras, at 2:20 p.m. That's 4 hours and 50 minutes my friends. On the other hand, my traveling companions for this first leg of the trip, Rolexis (Alexis and Rolando! Rolexis is their celebrity status name. I just made it up. They don't know I'm calling them that yet.), left by car a little after 11 a.m. and ended up in Las Galeras just minutes before I did. 
Hrrrmmph
Moral of the story. Rent a car.
However, if that's not a viable option (you don't have enough money, you don't want the hassle of actually renting a car, you're just plain scared to drive in the crazy free-for-all that is the D.R.), a guagua is really your only choice.
So with that in mind, I've put together a few survival tips for you in case you find yourself dealing with the Dominican transportation system.
1. Don't expect to find bus times posted online. Or even bus services. Virtually the only way to find a bus stop is to ask a local, then you need to head to the station yourself to find out when the buses leave and where they go. 
2. Find a seat next to a window or door in the front, some place with air flow. Do NOT sit in the back. It looks like a nice spacious back seat, but it's a trap! The bus will definitely pick up more luggage and passengers than its capacity and the back is where most people will be squished. 
3. You will leave each city at a snail's pace. This is because the driver will pick up (or try to) more riders along the way. He must drive slowly so that anybody mildly considering jumping on the bus has the opportunity to do so. This will drive you crazy. Grin and bear it. 
4. If you are sitting next to a window or door for an extended period of time, make sure to cover yourself properly. You will get sunburned.
5. You are going to be mildly uncomfortable, accept that fact and focus on something more positive. The scenery is beautiful. The people are friendly. If you are willing and open, you can always have an interesting conversation. (my most entertaining conversations have taken place on buses) If not, there's always bachata or merengue on the radio to listen to. Or you can work on developing your ability to sleep in any position. This will serve you well for future trips. 
6. When you arrive in your destination town, you will begin dropping people off one by one randomly along the route. You can simply signal the driver wherever you want to be let off, and he will do so. Once again you will move at a snail's pace and once again, this will drive you crazy. Take a deep breath and smile though, you're almost there. 

And if you are lucky, you're final destination will look something like this...

A little slice of heaven. 
The last bus stop at Las Galeras almost literally drops you off in the sand on the beach. Which was quite lucky for me because that is exactly where Rolexis had decided to park their car minutes before my arrival. I flagged them down and we went to look for accomodations for the night. 
Since our first choice, El Cabito, was closed for the month of July (bummer!), we ended up staying at La Plantacion, which was where I stayed on my last visit. The major draw for this place being its close proximity to the beach and its beautiful pool, which I dove into first thing. 
Rolando and Alexis opted for a picture instead of a swim. 

Adorable

Soon it was time to eat, and we stumbled upon a stylish little restaurant/bar just steps from our hotel. 

The place had pizazz, with a carved wooden monkey guarding the entrance, a funky little parrot-filled lounge, and a bamboo trimmed bar. 

Free focaccia and veggies with dip tied us over until the main event. 

Alexis and I split a big garden salad. 

She ordered a pizza for one, which probably could have fed two...although that was perfect for the mama-to-be. 

Rolando and I both went for grilled fish.
I was trying to be healthy, but I'm pretty sure my orange sauce and mashed potatoes were high in butter content. Oh well, I tried, lol. 
Tummies full we headed back to the hotel to rest up. We each had big plans for the morning!

Mangos and coffee for breakfast

Sunshine
That feeling of excitement when you buy your bus ticket to the beach
Occasional spontaneous motorcycle rides
Winding trails through tropical mountains

Roadside fruit stands
Guanábana
Bargaining for pineapples

Waving hello to everyone I see walking down the street
Fresh-squeezed fruit juice
Getting lost
Kisses for greetings
Kisses for goodbyes
Coconut carts

Morning yoga 

Merengue and bachata
Someone always wanting to dance with me

Hiking through tropical forests
Avocados
Diving into waterfalls

Homemade pina coladas in a pineapple and fresh mojitos

Clothes hanging on the line to dry
The smell of pica pollo when passing a comedor
Long walks to school 

Stray puppies

Mariposas

Food with friends

Blue that's bluer than blue

The world in color

My students
Perfect sunsets
Sundresses and Flip Flops

So what inspired this rather nostalgic list? Well, I bought my plane ticket home. I´ll leave it at that for now.

I've been wanting to make pollo guisado for quite some time now. Sure sancocho and mofongo are everybody's traditional favorites, but those are your special occasion dishes, your once-every-couple-of-weeks dishes. Pollo guisado, on the other hand, is the every day go-to meal. The people's food. The daily bread of the Dominican diet. Serve it alongside some moro, a fancy way of saying rice and beans, and there is nothing more standard. So of course, I had to learn to make it. 
The adventure began, like all good culinary adventures, at the supermarket. 
Many Dominicans buy their goods from nearby colmados or sometimes passing "marchenas," local women who travel through the streets (usually on donkeys, but sometimes with wheel barrows) shouting out their wares. 

But if you are looking for a one-stop shop, La Sirena, the closest thing the D.R. has to a Wal-Mart, is the favorite choice of your average middle-class Dominican.  No, you can't bargain for your goods here (darn!), but you get the convenience of finding everything in one place and not having to chase la marchena down the street.  
Plus, air conditioning. 
Those are two very magical words in the D.R. 

In any case, I snapped some pics to give you an idea of what grocery shopping is like with a tropical flare. You can also get an idea of the prices if you take a look at the signs posted above each item. Just remember that 1 U.S. dollar is about 40 Dominican pesos. So that means 10 pesos= $.25, 20 pesos= $.50, 40 pesos= $1.00, 100 pesos= $2.50, 200 pesos= $5.00, and so on. 
Above, we've got mangos (finally in season, yes!!!!), and zapotes...an odd pumpkin-y fruit. 

Lechoza, or papaya, is sold year round. It turns nice and yellow when it is ripe. 

Here we've got chinola, or passion fruit, on the left (It gets all wrinkly when it is ripe), and Dominican oranges, which for some reason, are not orange at all! but rather a mish-mash of orange and green. 

And of course, this is berenjena, or egg plant, which strangely enough is a very common veggie here and is featured in many traditional Dominican dishes. I never would have guessed that. 

Now onto the ajies verdes (green peppers) and tomates bugalu (roma tomatoes). I really just took this picture so that I could say bugalu. Best word ever. Bugalu. bugalu. bugalu. bugalu. bugalu. hahaha.

Next up, the "viveres," which actually translates to "supplies" or "provisions" in English. However, here in the D.R. the word generally refers to root vegetables and plantains. The variety of tubers here far exceeds anything we have in the U.S., and many of their names don´t have English translations (ñame, yautia). What I love about the word viveres is that the word actually stems from the verb "vivir," to live. These are the veggies that Dominicans live on. Cheap and filling, they are usually featured in at least one (but possibly two or three) daily meals for the average Dominican. 

And of course we have plaintains. Don´t be fooled, they don´t taste a thing like bananas. Both are tough and starchy and nearly impossible to eat raw. They are usually boiled or fried. The green version of course, is less ripe and has a bland potato-y flavor, while the yellow version is mildly sweet. 

The next isle over we´ll find conflé and leche. The funny thing is, all cereals, from Lucky Charms to Coco Puffs, are referred to as cornflé (cornflakes). And the milk here is often sold in powdered form, as in the Nido brand packages you see above. 

And we can´t skip the dessert isle! 

The most common desserts (The ones sold by vendors at the beach or on buses) are dulce de mani (a very sweet peanut brittle), dulce de coco (same concept as the peanut brittle but with coconut flakes), and dulce de leche  (a condensed milk treat). All of these are overpoweringly sugary (but still delicious)-- in true Dominican fashion. The island was initially colonized to grow sugar cane after all!

Certainly no Dominican grocery store would be complete without salami. The typical Dominican salami is called longaniza, but there are tons of varieties. Most look, and taste, more like giant seasoned hot dogs than anything else though. Not my style, but if you are a hot dog lover, well the D.R. is the place for you. 

The eggs are never refrigerated. And look! You can even buy cute little speckled ones!

And I couldn´t not mention guandules. They are officially called pigeon peas in the U.S. but I´d never heard of them before. Really, they are a bean, not a pea, and they are often served in moro. 
Which brings me back to the pollo guisado with moro! 
Well anyways, I found myself a real Dominican (a friend of mine) and he dragged my all through La Sirena looking for our ingredients.

Red peppers, green peppers, garlic, onion, celery, cilantro, oregano, tomato paste, soy sauce (salsa china), rice, black beans,  and a whole chicken. 

First step, hack the chicken into pieces. There does not seem to be a method to this. Just take a sharp knife and go at it! Cut off the excess skin and rinse the pieces in water to clean. 

Second step, I have no idea. 
I tried to get Diego to explain to me the process paso a paso of making pollo guisado with moro, but that plan did not work out at all.  Turns out Diego is more of a tosser...you know...one of those people that continuously tosses things into a pot until it tastes right. No measurements, no recipe...not even a real method as far as I could see. Part of the veggies went into the pot at the beginning, some of them went in a little later, and some of them went in later still. "Why don´t you put all the veggies in at one time? What are you going to do with these extra veggies?" I kept pestering. But he just laughed and said, "Tranquila!"  Every time I turned around he was tossing something new into one of the pots or asking for another random ingredient. "Do you have olives?" "I need some rum." "Hmmm, more celery I think!" 

Finally I just gave up, popped open a cool bottle of wine in the now very steamy kitchen, and took his "tranquila" advice while he did his thing 

The finished black bean moro, served with red peppers which is not super traditional, just a little bit of Diego flare :)

I´m not sure how he did it, but he sure did it well! 

Pollo guisado con moro de habichuelas negras y tostones: Braised chicken with black bean moro and fried plantain chips. Yum!

Since I couldn´t get the whole recipe out of Diego (which makes perfect sense actually, since the D.R. has a primarily oral culture, meaning stories and recipes and traditions are passed down by word or mouth and learning processes rather than written down) I did a little research and found what seems like a really good pollo guisado recipe online. Try it out and let me know what you think!

Every semester I start my Conversation class off with a discussion about culture. I ask them to think about their own culture and what elements make up Dominican culture. Inevitably, someone will mention mofongo. This comment will be followed in quick succession by another: mofongo mocano. 
That is to say, according to my students,  the truest form of mofongo (and the most delicious) comes from Moca, a smallish town about 20 minutes outside of the Santiago city limits. 
And every semester, I experience the same expressions of horror and chorus of gasps when I mention I haven't yet tried this national treasure. 
So when the lovely Alexis and her beau Rolando invited me for a little Sunday road trip to remedy the situation, I could barely contain my excitement. 

The road trip started, like all good road trips, on a lazy, sunny Sunday with an ice cold beer to go and a crispy fried quipe (a Dominican street food staple). 
Rolando had the radio turned up and the windows rolled down and I'm pretty sure I didn't stop smiling the whole 20 minute trip. 

We made Rolando pull off to the side of the road so we could pop out and snap a few pics by the giant Moca sign. 

A is for Alexis!

M is for Molly!
(Poor Rolando, there wasn't an R)

Soon we were pulling up to the famous "Mi Terraza," a thatch roofed shack worthy of any "Diner, Drive-ins, and Dives" episode. 

The menus,  fittingly, are in the shape of a pilón, the wooden mortar and pestle used for mashing the mofongo into creamy deliciousness. 

We decided to order two types of Mofongo: the clásico (mashed plantains, garlic, and chicharrones), and completo (mashed plantains, garlic, longaniza, chicharrones, cheese)
Chicharrones, you may remember, are crispy fried slabs of pork belly. 
Longaniza, on the other hand, is a typical Dominican seasoned pork sausage. 

We sat right next to the kitchen, close enough to hear the pork rinds sizzling in their own fat (yummm) and to catch a few glimpses of the chefs pulverizing the plantains.
I was too shy (and with that realization any notion I had of being a sassy world-traveling journalist was instantly shattered, haha) to ask to snap a photo, but luckily Rolando saved the day and snuck around the door to capture these candid pics.
(Resolution number 1: be more brave!)

See that  blue garbage barrel-- it´s full to the brim with chopped plantains!!  just waiting to hit the hot oil. 

Soon our server was bringing us two heaping, HEAPING, mounds of mofongo. 

That was my best attempt at a look of shock, haha, although it looks more like I am frightened than anything. And actually, probably with good reason. Mofongo is not for the faint of stomach. Basically, its fried plaintains, fried pork belly, and a handful of garlic all mashed together, smothered in cheese, and served with a side of beef broth. 
Imagine mashing together French Fries, bacon, and garlic and then stuffing the mixture with sausage and cheese, and you´ll get something similar. 

Here´s a closer look at the beauty, or I suppose, the beast, depending on how you  want to see it. 
Whatever you decide, you simply can´t call it anything else but delicious. 
Creamy, crunchy, chewy, gooey. 
Smiles all around. 

(My personal favorite part, finding a bite with a particularly crispity-crunchity morsel of pork rind.)

By the time we left, a line was filling out into the street just to get their hands on their own helping of Dominican gold. 

With my diet thoroughly and happily ruined for the day (did I mention I ate brownies for breakfast?), we decided to go all out and continue the binge back in Santiago with the newly opened Sweet Frog.

The idea is that you get to pick your own frozen yogurt and top it with anything you'd like from the eye-popping selection of goodies. You then pay by the weight of your cup. For those who like their ice cream chock-full of chunky topping goodness, like me, this is paradise. 

I opted for 4 different types of frozen yogurt (pistachio, turtle, snickers, and sweet coconut), and an eclectic mix of just as many toppings (twix bars pieces, cookie dough bites, mango bubble things, and gummy bears). Don't  mock my selection!

P.s. I realize gummy bears and ice cream make a fairly odd combination, but I just really wanted to eat some gummy bears!

Tummies full up, we decided it was time to roll ourselves home. Alexis and Rolando deposited me at my doorstep, and I waddled myself up the stairs and onto my bed where I took a nice little Sunday afternoon snooze (i.e. fell into a food coma). What a perfect way to spend the Sunday. 

Yuca is a staple of the Dominican diet. 

Served mashed in the form of Mangú...

Boiled with pickled onions...

Simmered in sancocho...

Or fried in a delightfully cheese-filled ball, you can pretty much eat it morning, noon, and night. And most Dominicans do. 
So in my attempt to conquer at least a few  recipes from the D.R., it seemed only natural that I should tackle this giant tuber. 

Ok so it may look a bit intimidating, being about 3 times the size of your normal potato and having dragon-scale tough skin, but that just means you get to pull out the big knife and have fun pretending you're a samurai warrior. 

That yucca will stand no chance against your awesome knife-wielding skills, which you probably learned from an ancient, wrinkled sensei in a hidden mountainside buddhist temple shrouded in mist. 

Once you've adequately kung fu chopped your yucca into 1 inch chunks, its boiling time. Simply add enough water to cover the yucca and a heaping teaspoon of salt and let those babies boil until they are fork tender, which will probably take about 10 minutes. Then drain them and add them back to the hot pot (the hot pot will continue to evaporate any moisture left in the yuca) and start your mashing. This entire process, by the way, is an excellent form of anger management and much cheaper than therapy. Perhaps why Dominicans are ranked as some of the happiest people in the world?? Perhaps :)
At this point, you could stop and add a few pats of butter and have some delicious mang'ú. Or, if you are looking for an added challenge, read on. 

Add a little milk and a little seasoning to your lovely yuca mash, and then the fun part, squish it around some hunky chunks of cheese and roll it into nice lumpy little ball. Warning: things could get a little messy here, just enjoy it. 

Dip the balls in a little egg wash, roll them in some bread crumbs, fry them up, and voila!

You now have a rave-worthy appetizer: crispy on the outside, creamy on the inside,  and dripping with ooey-gooey cheddary goodness--its kind of tastes like a baked potato that took a walk on the wild side. 

It will be hard not to eat these little guys all yourself, but you must remember to be nice and share. Trust me, your friends will thank you for it!
The complete recipe can be found at Aunt Clara´s Kitchen. 
(P.S. This recipe will make quite a few bollitos, so if you don´t think you can eat them all up in one night, it´s good to know that they freeze wonderfully. Just put them in an air-tight container in your freezer before the egg wash step. Then when you throw together a last-minute shin-dig, just defrost them in the microwave, batter ém, and fry ém. Easy Peasy.
 Also for your gringos who can´t find yuca, (or cassava in English), you could probably substitute potatoes and achieve a similar result)

Sex sells. And so do the rooms in the roadside cabañas located on the fringes of every city in the D.R. You can´t miss them. Painted in garish colors with flashing neon signs and suggestive names (Extasis, Singapur, Zeus), they practically ooze sex, which I suppose is ideal since that´s what they are designed for. 
If you haven't guessed, cabañas are basically cheap motels created for the sole purpose of secret rendezvous. 
I had the pleasure (shock) of visiting my first cabaña a couple days ago, but don't go jumping to conclusions just yet. We´ll get to that minor detail in a little bit. Primero, let´s talk about the cabañas. 
The first thing you should know is that they are set up so that you generally only pay for a small block of time, maybe just a couple of hours, although overnight options are available as well. Second, each room has its own garage. You simply drive in, and the garage door immediately falls behind you, insuring that no passersby will see your vehicle. So you can rest assured that nosy Miss Peabody that lives next door won´t be telling the whole neighborhood where she saw your car parked last night. 
Next, imagine your average Motel 8, downgrade it a couple times, and you´ve got yourself a room in a cabaña: a small, sparsely furnished space that could pass for a cabin on the Loveboat in the 70s (I´m told there are some really nice cabañas, but this one didn´t fit the bill) No windows, yellowish walls, burgundy bedspread, brass mirror, and flimsily shaded lamps throwing a sallow glow on the surroundings. These rooms are not without their redeeming factors though, one of which is instantaneous room service (also designed for complete discreetness).  Simply select your item of choice from the menu on the bedside table, write your order on the provided notepad, and place it in the little magic turning compartment in the wall. Spin the compartment and wait. Two seconds later elves (motel staff) on the other side of the wall will spin the compartment back to you with your heart´s desire and a small bill. Place the bill in the compartment, spin, and wait another two seconds. Soon it will spin back with your change. Truly magical. And you just know those elves on the other side of the thin plaster wall are not going to listen to a single thing that goes on in your bedroom. Elves wouldn´t do that would they? Ok so I know I said a few redeeming factors, but that´s really the only one I can think of. I´d talk to you about the bed, but I maintained a 10 foot radius at all times. 
So how DID I end up in this shady little joint? Let´s call it a miscommunication with Rico Suave. I thought I was communicating a "friend vibe," and he was too busy wrapped up in himself to notice anything I communicated at all. Something about my Americanness also seems to suggest "easy." Come on American girls, stop giving us that reputation!! Long story short, "I know a place where we can go for one more drink," ended up being a cabaña. Now as soon as we pulled in I knew where we were at and what the purpose of this little escapade was to be. And if I had a flair for the dramatic, this would be the point where I might turn and slap a boy. But alas, my curiosity about the shady interiors of these secretive little motels got the better of me and I went inside to check it out. We stayed just long enough to order a beer and then I made him take me home. Needless to say, there won´t be a second date. 

There are basically two main reasons why cabañas flourish here in the D.R., both directly related to culture. 
The first, ironically, has to do with strong family values. Family is extremely important in Dominican culture. Its not unusual for extended family members (aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents) to live under the same roof. The regular work day even has a built in two hour lunch break (12 p.m-2 p.m.) so workers and students can go home to have lunch with their families (an ideology I think the U.S. should consider adopting). And leaving the nest? A dramatic experience that may not occur until marriage. In fact, I´d say about 80 percent of my university students still happily live at home and will probably continue living there even after they graduate. But therein lies the dilemma. Where can these young 20-somethings, still living at home, go to spend some alone time with their girlfriend/boyfriend/date/? Certainly not under their parent´s roof.
The second reason for the popularity of cabañas might seem a little more obvious: affairs. The D.R. has an undeniably macho culture. Men are generally praised for their sexual prowess, women generally valued for their physical beauty. So it´s no shocker that faithfulness is a low value on the totem pole. And where better to steal away with your secret lover than a cozy little cabaña where there´s no proof you were ever there? 

But the cultural relevance of cabañas doesn´t stop there. To truly understand their existence, you first must understand a little more about the overall culture of the D.R.--- and the best way I can describe that is a strange collision of old world morals and modern day rap music videos.
I know, its weird. 
But having been a fairly isolated island under the Trujillo regime until the 1960s, the sudden crash with modern day culture (consumerism, technology, pop music) has left the little island reeling. Throw in a healthy dose of Catholicism (90 percent of the population) and you´ve got a country full of contradictions. And perhaps this is no place more apparent than in the realm of sexuality. On one side you have this conservative Catholic facade, on the other side, overt sexuality. The truly strange part is the arbitrary judgement when it comes to what is acceptable and what is condemned.
Half nude women on billboards. Ok. 
Graphic song lyrics. Ok.  
Encouraging your three-year-old to booty shake like a stripper (don´t laugh, I´ve seen it, on several occasions). Ok.
Kissing. Only if you are novios (gf and bf). 
Having a lot of friends of the opposite sex. Only if you are a boy. 
Wearing shorts. Not Ok.   
Living together out of wedlock: Ok. (But everyone will just pretend you are married.)

(These are all generalizations of course, but I have witnessed all of them)
I´ve given a few examples below to help you visualize.

Let´s take for example one of the songs (the music video is featured above) I´ve been hearing consistently the last few months. The name of the song is Menea Tu Chapa (shake your butt cheeks) with lyrics that look like this: "Ay, ay, ay, me gusta la chapa que suena placata." Roughly translated: "Ay, ay, ay, I like butt cheeks that make the sound placata." (Placata is apparently the sound butt cheeks make when they slap together as you are shaking them.) Ok, so admittedly this song makes me laugh. I mean, who comes up with a name for the sound that shaking butt cheeks make? Haha! But seriously, this is one of the most popular songs on the radio. I´ve heard it in conchos, on guaguas, in clothing stores, and even in restaurants. This is not a "respectable" song by any stretch of the imagination, but the guagua driver deems it perfectly acceptable music to play for all the passengers, old doñas and young chilrden alike, and nobody seems to mind. 
Then on the other hand, we have shorts. Even though the weather pushes 90 degrees most days of the year, wearing shorts, even of a good length, is considered by many a sign of indecency and low class. Although it seems completely ok to wear the tightest, most hip-hugging, low rise jeans you can find. Because those are so much more decent, right? (Doesn´t make sense to me either.)
So I have to sit in a crowded concho, listening to Menea tu Chapa and sweating profusely with my sticky hot jeans clinging to my legs because wearing shorts would be too indecent. Anybody else see the irony in this situation? 
And so it is with cabañas. They are the low-rise hip-hugger jeans of the Dominican fashion world.  The loophole around the sexual liberty stigma. Like the hip-huggers,  they´re consipicuous and they seem a bit sleezy, but nobody says anything about either of them. 
Sexual liberation? Not Ok. Secret sex behind closed doors? Well, that seems like a nifty alternative.

Ok amores, it's been a while but I'm back and bringing with me a can't miss recipe for pad thai. Now I know what you are thinking, "Pad Thai? What is wrong with this loca? She's in the D.R. and posting recipes from Thailand?! Jeesh!" But bear with me, because this little receta was the product of my search for a use for tamarindo. Now some of you may remember my first experience with tamarindo hace mucho tiempo (a looong time ago). Well long story short, after that incident I've been pretty hesitant when it comes to all things tamarindo. But it seems like I can't escape from this odd brown pod. I keep seeing it everywhere....in juice form, in concentrate form, in its natural unprocessed form- its a pretty popular item at the grocery stores and colmados here. Its the natural unprocessed form that's been intriguing me the most though. Sold in a pre-packaged brown goopy looking block, every time I passed by it in the produce isle I stared at it with a mixture of ill-disguised disgust and wonder. What on earth would one do with a package of goop like that? 
Finally my curiosity got the better of me (it almost always does), and I bought the block to take home for experimentation. 
Let the mad scientist-ing begin!

The first step was figuring out how to get this messy block of goop and seeds and roots and branches into an edible form. A little internet searching brought me to this site with an excellent explanation of what to do. Basically, just add the block of tamarindo to a pot of water and let it soak for 10 minutes. Use a ratio of 1 part tamarindo to 1 part water. I had one pound of tamarindo, so that meant 16 oz. of water. 
One your tamarindo is good and soaked, that's when the party gets started.
Take one hand (I recommend two for extra gloopy fun) and start squishing the seeds and roots to dislodge the sticky tamarindo substance stuck to the outside. 
Once you've squished off as much tamarindo as possible, its time to start getting rid of the big chunks of gunk that you don't want to eat. Just take a handful of your tamarind mixture and squeeze; the juice will come out and you'll be left with a pod/twig/root mixture to discard. Repeat this several times. Eventually you'll be left with a slightly less chunky mess. Now you want to strain what remains to get rid of the rest of the little chunks. 
Easy peasy.
The strained mixture that remains is your edible tamarind pulp. It will keep in a glass jar in the fridge for up to two weeks or in the freezer for several months. 

Ok, ok, ok, so you have your tamarind pulp, now the big question: "¿Diablo, what do I do with this?"
I have two options to propose to you. 1. You can go the very popular juice route and just follow the instructions found here. 
Or 2., you can make the best Pad Thai in the world. No joke. Best Pad Thai IN THE WORLD. 
Obviously I´m a big proponent of option 2. 

Now I have to give all credit to The Savory Sweet Life, since I copied her recipe and tweaked it a little too suit my needs and love of extra veggies. 

Ingredients

• ⅓ cup oyster sauce (the original recipe calls for fish sauce, but I couldn´t find it)
• ½ cup dark brown sugar
• ½ cup fresh squeezed tamarind pulp (Here´s where you get to put that tamarindo to good use!)
• 4 cloves garlic, minced
• 4 ounces dried rice stick noodles
• 6 tablespoons vegetable oil, divided
• 4 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 cup red onion, thinly sliced
• 1 cup red bell pepper, thinly sliced
• 1 ½ cups thinly sliced chicken, beef, pork, shrimp, or tofu (pre-cooked and shredded rotisserie chicken works great)
• 1 egg
• 1 cup carrots, peeled into ribbons
• 1 cup green beans, steamed. 
• cup green onion cut diagonal in ½ inch segments
• 1 cup mung bean sprouts
• cup cilantro
• 1 cup toasted peanuts chopped
• Lime wedge

Instructions

1. To make pad thai sauce, heat a small pan on medium low and add oyster sauce, palm sugar, tamarind pulp, and garlic. Cook sauce until sugar has completely dissolve. At this point, you will want to taste the sauce and tweek the sweetness or hotness (be careful, the sauce will be hot). To make it more spicy add red chili flakes. Remove from heat and allow to cool 10 minutes before storing it in a jar or plastic container.
2. Boil noodles for 4-5 minutes and drain immediately rinsing with cold water for a few seconds. Noodles should be slightly firmer than Al dente. But don’t worry, they will continue to soften and cook later when stir frying. Using kitchen shears, cut the noodle clump in half. This will make it easier to fry and eat.
3. Heat 3 tablespoons of oil in a wok or frying pan on high and cook raw chicken, pork, beef, tofu or shrimp for 3-4 minutes. (If you are using pre-shredded rotisserie chicken, which I recommend for eases, simply skip this step) Remove meat/tofu/seafood into a small bowl. Next, heat the remaining oil and then add garlic and red onions and red peppers to the hot pan and stir fry for 1 minute stirring the garlic mixture so it will not burn. Add noodles and stir for 1 minute. Add 3-4 tablespoons Pad Thai sauce continually stirring noodle mixture until well coated with sauce. Add cooked meat/tofu/seafood back and fry for 2-3 minutes. Move the noodle and meat mixture to one side of the pan and crack an egg on the other side. Scramble the egg with a wooden spoon and cook for 30 seconds. Add carrots, green beans, green onions, and sprouts and cook for one more minute frying everything together. Test the firmness of the noodle. If the noodle is too firm, fry for an additional minute. If your noodles need more flavor, add another tablespoon of sauce and fry another half minute. Remove from heat and serve. Garnish with remaining raw carrots, spouts, cilantro, toasted peanuts, and wedges of lime. Enjoy!

Of course, this recipe can be a little time consuming to put together, but the silver lining is that EVERYTHING can be prepared in advance and stored in the fridge. So if you´re planning on serving it for a dinner party (to secretly woo your guests into falling in love with you and singing of your brilliance until the end of days...which I highly recommend) then its a snap to whip together.

Pad Thai Sauce ingredients (I added a little lime for extra flava)

The rest of the ingredients.

You can steam your green beans and boil your noodles in advance.

My favorite part...peeling the carrots. Its a dead boring job. Unless you pretend like your a scullery maid, off on a grand adventure, peeling veggies for a rough-and-tumble pirate crew sailing their way across the seven seas. Suddenly cannons boom (you've accidentally knocked a pot off the counter), and the crew scrambles to man the deck (the cats come running in to see what the commotion is about). The pirate ship is under fire! You can hear the thud of feet and the clank of swords above you. The enemy must have boarded the ship. You tuck a boning knife into your apron strings and leap into the stairwell to do your part, but a grizzly old man with a scar scratched along one cheekbone is standing in your way. He smiles a crooked, rotting smile and you can see one golden tooth gleaming to match the evil sparkle in his eye. Just as you twist to get away he grabs your arm and......and see! I told you peeling carrots was the best! I bet you want to know how this pirate adventure ends. But I'm not going to tell you. Go peel your own carrots! :)

Once you've sufficiently oohed and awed your guests, and turned down a couple of marriage proposals (probably from both men and women), you can spend the rest of your night sipping wine or cold beer and catching up with your friends in the warm Santiago night air. 
And later, if you have the awesomest of friends, like I do, they will want to play , "Quién soy yo?" (Who am I?)

Amber is deep in concentration

Oh hey there´s me! 
I don´t know it yet, but I am Kim Kardashian. Can you see the resemblance?

Of course you´ll need to end your night with a little dessert. Nothing goes better with Pad Thai than Oreos. Trust me on this one. 

Look what happens when you get curious about a little bit of tamarind--- pad thai, pirate adventures, and fun times with good friends. Stay curious mis amores, stay curious.