De la chacra a la mesa

Many thanks to my oldest and dearest friend, Becky, for setting up one of the most memorable days we had during our trip to Cuba. After pulling myself out of bed before the crack of 7am on a drizzly Wednesday morning -- hey, this is vacation, and that's earlier than I get up for work! -- we packed a jumble of breakfast foods into tupperware containers, grabbed bottles of water, and stumbled out to our waiting taxi that promptly whisked us off to Caimito, where we would be volunteering on an organic farm for the day. (Interestingly, our friendly cab driver was the ONLY person in the entire island nation who, rather than being multiple hours late, was actually a half hour early.) As we zoomed through the rainy morning, the day became sunnier and the air clearer. I hadn't noticed how thoroughly diesel fumes had infused my time in Cuba until they were almost gone in the rural quiet of the countryside....

Upon arrival, Farmer Annabelle welcomed us with coffee, juice, and some delicious yogurt made by her neighbor. Then we pulled on some rainboots, squished out to the field, and started transplanting tomatoes and onion starts. The sun came fully out, and both Becky and I marveled at how lucky we were to be in this beautiful place with our hands in the earth, helping good people do good work. We chatted as we tucked the seedlings into their new homes, following behind the quiet older Cuban farmhand who marked out holes for us to dig and plant into. After some water and a bathroom break, we were tasked with adding soil and seeds to rows of starter trays in the open-sided nursery. Meanwhile, divine smells began to emanate from the kitchen....

Over a fabulous, lingering lunch, we learned that Farmer Annabelle, a Nicaraguan transplant, had studied and worked in a number of fancy Parisian restaurants. She had learned a lot about the need for quality ingredients during her time in France, and had developed a passion for the delights of food's seasonality. Upon reflection, she and her husband Alfredo decided that what they really wanted to be doing wasn't cooking in fancy restaurants (or working in IT, as he was doing) but helping to grow food and teach others how to improve the land through sustainable farming. They just needed some land... and to learn how to farm.

After visiting Alfredo's parents in Cuba, they decided to put down roots there. With help from family and the government, they took over an old house and began to fix it up while they cleared space to grow food. The plan was to start with planting trees and row crops, and eventually expand to more growing space and adding in livestock. Rather than burning down the existing foliage, as their neighbors had done for generations, they researched ways to more sustainably prepare the land and build up the soil's resilience and nutrient content. They composted on site, collected local seeds and introduced little known crops (like broccoli and leeks) to their planting plans, and shared with others as they learned. Now, four years later, they've built a community of sustainable farmers who share knowledge and seeds... and, in the case of the day we were visiting, a friendly meal around the farm table.

I'm still trying to decide which was the best meal of the trip: this unconventional one that featured white bean hummus and a veggie and free-range pork stirfry, or the traditional Cuban lunch from our cooking class. I daydream about both of them still. If you go to Cuba, dear reader, you might have to try both!

[Here's Annabelle harvesting a broccoli that she sent us back into town with that afternoon. Boy did we scarf up that hard to find vegetable with our dinner that night!]

Comida Cubana

Cuban food gets a bad rap in the States, at least from most Cuban Americans I know, who complain about a lack of seasoning, ingredient choices, and creativity. Rice and beans, rice and beans, more rice and beans maybe with a little pork.  Yet I have to say that while moros y cristianos features prominently in most meals on the average Cuban table -- not surprisingly, given the monthly allotment of rice and dry beans given by the government to each Cuban citizen, and the average person's inability to afford much more -- I've enjoyed some deliciously diverse dishes while bouncing around Havana.

Perhaps the best experience I had during my 10 days in Cuba was a cooking class, hosted by the lovely Malinelli and her charming husband Hector at their home. My best friend Becky and I started our culinary adventure at the open-air agromercado, tagging along as our cooking instructors bought fresh ingredients from local, organic farmers....

At this stand, Mali showed us how to pick out good malanga -- a local tuber used to make fritters and other starchy delights:

I was dubious about these unassuming, dirt encrusted root veggies until Hector showed us about an hour later how to scrub, prepare, and perfectly fry them. I don't normally seek out fried food -- to be honest, eating it usually leaves me feeling a bit ill -- but I could've devoured these garlic and herb loaded malanga fritters for days, with or without local honey to dip them in. And now Becky and I know how to make them, thanks to the hands-on practice and follow-up recipes sent to us by our kind cooking instructors.

Here we are with our delightful hostess, Mali, and a friendly English couple who also joined our cooking class, sitting down to our homemade Cuban feast:

After a hearty late afternoon meal of fried plantains, a simple salad, pork with sour orange and garlic (my new favorite dish), a new twist on the traditional black beans and rice, the famous malanga fritters, and capped off with great conversations about Cuban history, economics, and culture over coffees and cheese with guava jam for dessert, we were ready to face the rest of the day with contented bellies. It's a good thing, too, since our evening led us first to live music and dancing at the Casa de Musica in nearby Miramar and then a jaunt around the hip Fabrica de Arte Cubano on the later side. I was still so contented from lunch that after our late night cab right back to the Airbnb, all I had room for was a bit of leftover fruit before crawling into bed. Well, maybe I could have nibbled on a malanga fritter or two....