something I picked up in Ecuador:
Thin slices of red onion
Lemon or lime juice
Salt and Pepper
Diced tomatoes
Halved shrimp
Yum!
Friday, March 28, 2008
ceviche
something I picked up in Ecuador:
Thin slices of red onion
Lemon or lime juice
Salt and Pepper
Diced tomatoes
Halved shrimp
Yum!
Saturday, March 15, 2008
25 Dec 07
Quito, Ecuador
The coffee was bitter and damn it was good coffee. At the other table a family had just sat down for lunch, probably after church, and they chatted. Soft Spanish mariachi music emanated from the whitewashed walls and curved ceiling. The view of the bright plaza through the doorway contrasted with the cool and darker interior of the cafe nestled beneath the facade of the cathedral. I took another sip of coffee. Streams of water flowed from the fountain outside the doorway. A light breeze flowed in. It was a perfect moment, the perfect place to be. I had just finished a plate of seco de chivo con arroz - life was good. As we left El Buen Sanduche, the shopkeeper warned us about the ladrons on Calle Chile.
Plaza Grande is bustling today. Families, tourist, immaculately dressed old men and couples sit on the benches. Kissing, chatting, watching other people go by. It's Christmas day and it's lovely.
I'm begining to like the Old Town, it really is very beautiful with its colonial buildings, the small lanes, the long streets which end with a beautiful vista of hills dotted with homes, the plazas and the squares, the churches, the smell of incense where the old women peddle religious wares, the traditionally dressed women in their hats and scarves selling mangoes with a baby in tow, the ubiquitous shoe-shines, the MP5 touting uniform-clad guard outside the presidential palace who tried to direct me to a cafe, the ice-cream vendors who freeze the creamy bit of an ice-cream over dry-ice, the numerous policemen who patrol the street making me wonder whether I should be feeling safe or afraid, the security guard at the pharmacy who carries a shotgun, the blind old couple busking with a song, the legless man playing an Inca tune on guitar and panflute advertising his own CD for sale, the fact that businesses here don't have English translations. The Old Town is all that and more.
The coffee was bitter and damn it was good coffee. At the other table a family had just sat down for lunch, probably after church, and they chatted. Soft Spanish mariachi music emanated from the whitewashed walls and curved ceiling. The view of the bright plaza through the doorway contrasted with the cool and darker interior of the cafe nestled beneath the facade of the cathedral. I took another sip of coffee. Streams of water flowed from the fountain outside the doorway. A light breeze flowed in. It was a perfect moment, the perfect place to be. I had just finished a plate of seco de chivo con arroz - life was good. As we left El Buen Sanduche, the shopkeeper warned us about the ladrons on Calle Chile.
Plaza Grande is bustling today. Families, tourist, immaculately dressed old men and couples sit on the benches. Kissing, chatting, watching other people go by. It's Christmas day and it's lovely.
I'm begining to like the Old Town, it really is very beautiful with its colonial buildings, the small lanes, the long streets which end with a beautiful vista of hills dotted with homes, the plazas and the squares, the churches, the smell of incense where the old women peddle religious wares, the traditionally dressed women in their hats and scarves selling mangoes with a baby in tow, the ubiquitous shoe-shines, the MP5 touting uniform-clad guard outside the presidential palace who tried to direct me to a cafe, the ice-cream vendors who freeze the creamy bit of an ice-cream over dry-ice, the numerous policemen who patrol the street making me wonder whether I should be feeling safe or afraid, the security guard at the pharmacy who carries a shotgun, the blind old couple busking with a song, the legless man playing an Inca tune on guitar and panflute advertising his own CD for sale, the fact that businesses here don't have English translations. The Old Town is all that and more.
