Cancun, Mexico

We had no plans to visit Cancun, but we had to go pay a port fee which could only be paid at the Banamex in Cancun. It cost us $16 for ferry and bus fare to pay the $20 fee. So lame. We took the opportunity to visit an incredibly large grocery store where we spotted these boob shaped pan dulce. We remember blogging about other pan dulce resembling body parts in La Paz. This should also feed the prepubescent sex crazed googlers out there. “boob” (probably not used in the expected way) has recently surpassed “porta-bote” in our search engine statistics.

Lemons. I haven’t seen them since La Paz when the CCC Grocery store had Eureka lemons for shockingly cheap. So there they were, a modest pile of them spilling over a cardboard box in the local Rey supermarket. I couldn’t believe my eyes and nearly caused a scene. Picking one up. Smelling it. Yes, it isn’t just a yellow lime (I have been so fooled). Looking around wildly like I intended to secret it into a pocket (actually I was looking for Joshua to totally freak out on but he somehow disappeared right at my moment of discovery). I found a market person to talk to: “What is this?” (”Limon Importado”) “How much is it?” (”$0.49″) “OHMYGODDOYOUKNOWWHATTHISMEANS???” (Actually I didn’t say this but I looked it and she gave me a blank stare before turning to less scary business.) Joshua finally found me and took a photo.

Beers are in order of preference, more or less. All beers are lagers unless otherwise specified (n/l).

MEXICO

Negra Modelo – Choice; our all-time favorite. Dark Amber in color. Excellent with a small bit of lime juice. (n/l) (Modelo Especial is NO comparison.)
Bohemia – Choice. (n/l)
XX Amber – Choice. Infrequently available in our experience along the coastal route. (n/l)

Victoria – Our favorite of the cheapies. Amber in color. (n/l)
Indio – Infrequently available; interesting flavor. Another favorite. Amber in color. (n/l)
XX Lager - Good. For a lager.
Pacifica – Standard lager, okay with lime. Excellent graphic design.
Tecate – Okay, actually tastes different than the other lagers of its class.
Modelo Especial - Really not very especial.
Sol – Blah; watery. I like the clear bottle.
Corona – My least favorite beer of all time, particularly when you take into consideration the hype. Acceptable in flavor ONLY with copious amounts of lime juice. Why oh why would anyone order this when there are so many other better beers out there?

GUATEMALA

Gallo – Lager; decent.
Bhrava – Indistinguishable from any standard Central American lagers. And, what’s with the spelling?

HONDURAS

Port Royal – Good. Our second favorite Central American lager. Order this beer anywhere in Honduras, unless you are in a cowboy bar, in which case, order ‘beer’ and take what you get.
Salva Vida – Standard, indistinguishable lager.
Imperial – Nasty. What you’ll likely be drinking in some cowboy bar in the middle of BFE in order to keep from looking like a pansy.

*** Despite being at the bottom of the list, the D&D Brewery deserves mention; it’s not a standard Honduran beer. It tastes like Oregon. You have to go to the source, the southwestern corner of Lake Yojoa (near the town Los Naranjos), to find this beer but you will not be sorry. D&D is a brewery/guesthouse run by an ex-pat from Oregon and his Honduran wife and he always has a handful of hand-made microbrews at all times. My favorite was the raspberry ale and porter mixed half and half. When we visited, he had hefeweissen, amber, porter, raspberry ale, mango ale, and blueberry ale (blueberries come from a nearby farm). We liked them all except for the mango ale (we didn’t try the blueberry).

BELIZE

Belican – One fine beer. Excellent. We love this beer.
Belican Stout – Stout! My god. What more can you ask for?
Belican Light – Why on earth would you order light beer?

EL SALVADOR

Pilsener – The one-dollar beer of choice. Excellent with lime. Our third favorite Central American lager.
Regia – Kind of weird; not bad though. Fragrant.
Golden – Indistinguishable typical lager.
Bahia and some others… they all taste the same anyway.

NICARAGUA

Toña – Far and above the more desirable beer. Our favorite of the Central American lagers.
Búfalo – Rare but a pretty good amber.
Victoria – Order Toña.

COSTA RICA

Imperial – Okay. Maybe the better of the CR lagers. Freaky graphics make you think the Kaiser was coming to stick one of those pointy helmets up your butt.
Pilsen – Startlingly similar to Imperial.
Rock Ice – God-awful graphics that unfortunately affect the flavor in a non-desirable way. Available in lemon flavor.

PANAMA

Panama – (4.8%, 355ml bottle)
Balboa – (4.8%, 285ml bottle)
Soberana – (3.8%, 355ml bottle)
Atlas – (3.8%, 285ml bottle)

Four nearly indistinguishable lagers, Atlas perhaps being a little waterier. All four come in battered recycled bottles with the graphics printed directly on the glass. Based on the above stats alone, Panama is the clear winner as far as your $0.75 is concerned and I have to say that I liked the taste of Panama maybe just a little more than the rest. The graphic design of the bottles is interesting. We liked the contrast of the green Panama bottle with the red, blue, and white label, although I was partial to the vintage cartoon feel of the Atlas logo. The Soberana bottle appears to be going for elegance with a crystal clear bottle and scripty fonts; I get the feeling this is supposed to be a chick beer. And, what’s with the name? Soberana. (Oh, it actually means “sovereign” but for us Englishy types, the apparent meaning is greatly amusing.) We had to check to be sure it was even alcoholic—which is what led us to check the alcohol content for all the rest and reinforced our opinion that Panama was the beer of choice.

We fought our way north to Isla Bayoneta against the norther that’s been blowing for the last week or so. We anchored inside an Austrian boat, spoiling their view, and immediately jumped overboard.

A short time later, we’re dripping wet and reading our books when guy comes by in a 20 foot dugout to ask if we have any water. I say, “yes” and eyeing his baskets add, “Do you have any vegetables?” He replies “Pues, sandia y ñame.” “yamy?” I asked. “No, ñame” he repeated while digging around in one of his baskets. After a while he held up a hairy dirt clod about the size of a football and again says “ñame.” I’m always keen to try anything I’ve never seen before so we got the ñame and a good size watermelon. He got a dollar and a liter of rainwater. I should have gotten his picture.

The watermelon wasn’t ripe… bummer. I don’t think I’ve ever had an unripe watermelon before. It was still juicy, cool and fun to eat, but not red and not sweet. Once you’ve cut off all the dirt and skin the ñame is white and slimy. It cooks up into a big starch bomb but thankfully the slime goes away. Pretty good, but there’s nothing to really recommend it against a potato. We had it with refried red beans and that curry sauce that you probably remember from Costa Rica if you’ve ever been there. Not a typical TimeMachine meal, but we aren’t too picky at this point. Our fresh food stores consist of two onions and a shriveled potato. The scurvy will set in soon.

I did not think twice about provisioning a dozen tins of anchovies when I did our pre-departure Trader Joes run. Surely we would be eating Caesar Salad every night and would be out by San Diego. As fate would have it, lettuce lasts poorly without refrigeration and the romaine variety is all but nonexistent south of the California border.

Now, a year later, I have many, many tins of anchovies and they are all expired. More importantly, anchovies lose structural integrity after a year in the tin and turn into brown mush. Brown mush interspersed with wee bones. Let this be a lesson to you all.

But I am determined and stubborn–if not particularly foresightful–about such matters and so every one of these tins of anchovies must be used up at all costs. Soon.

What the hell do you do with anchovies if you can’t make Caesar salad? A good question indeed; one which I would love to ask the Internet but alas, there’s no internet here.

Answer #1: Anchovy and Olive (also expired) Surprise on Toasts!

Anchovies are not the only expired can around here; in addition, we have a can of imitation abalone that Joshua bought a few years ago thinking it was funny and which I have no idea what to do with. Also several cans of milk products: sweetened condensed, “table cream,” evaporated (which is actually liquid), dulce de leche, and lactose-free regular. Also, a small tin of those lame sliced black olives whose presence in our lives is a huge mystery.

We had a loaf of stale ciabatta to eat and so we wrapped the bread in foil and toasted it over the burner in a makeshift lean-to of various pots and pan lids.

Then I mixed minced garlic (two cloves), the can of anchovy mush (minus oil), the sliced olives further sliced, one tomato diced finely, grated parmesan cheese procured from an Italian deli populated with products from the actual country of Italy (this is what saved the dish), olive oil, pepper, and hot sauce. We ate this over the toast and it was quite tasty. Improvements could be made by using more exotic olives such as Moroccan oil-cured. Also, using fresh anchovies.

Answer #2: Warm Multi-Pasta Salad!

Flush from the success of the first Anchovy Battle, we did something very similar but with pasta. Many of the same ingredients went into the ‘sauce’: one large tomato diced, can anchovy sludge (sans oil), chopped green herbed olives (also about to expire, jeez!), garlic cloves (minced), tablespoon or so of balsamic vinegar, olive oil, basil, oregano, salt (only if necessary because the anchovies are already salty), pepper, and a pinch of chili flakes. Mix together and set aside. Boil water and make pasta of choice (we used an artful mixture of left-over elbows, penne, and shells). Mix together and voila!

Answer #3: Puttanesca Sauce!

Puta madre! Another tasty pasta creation that leaves me one more anchovy tin down.

Mash together: a couple of tablespoons of olive oil, half tin of anchovy filets (bonus: mine just happen to be already mashed; I also used the whole tin), three cloves crushed garlic. Now, take half of this mixture and sauté it with three chopped or crushed roma tomatoes until they are soft. Add the rest of the mashed sauce, two tablespoons of capers, half a cup of olives (like good ones, not those canned black pitted nasties), and pepper. You probably won’t need any salt after the olives and anchovies. Simmer over low heat an additional twenty minutes and finally serve over pasta. We used the last of our high-quality Jasmine penne. This would be excellent with a bit of parmesan grated over the top. If parmesan existed anywhere within a 100-mile radius of this boat. Which it doesn’t. So sad.

Answer #4: Miraculous Anchovy and Almond Tapenade (tossed with veggies)!

Jerry and Joni from Lotus gave us an awesome cookbook, which I highly recommend to anyone on a boat (The Cruising Chef by Mike Greenwald). The current revised edition is an excellent read with easy to deal with recipes introduced with great stories and much humor. Lotus had two copies and I ended up with an original first edition from 1977 and it is such a gem; it’s loaded with ink illustrations and delightfully un-PC recipes and stories (whale hunting! MSG!). I immediately scoured it for anchovy recipes and found this.

For veggies, I steamed some green beans until just about done. Then I fried a bunch of chopped almonds and several garlic chunks in butter until they started to turn slightly golden (the almonds take longer than the garlic so I suggest starting the almonds, then adding the garlic later unless you want crispy brown garlic pieces). Here is where you add chopped anchovy filets, according to Mike Greenwald. Here is where I diverged from the recipe. Gazing at my anchovy filets-turned-mush, a delicious almond-garlic-butter aroma wafting around the galley, I decided to just leave them out actually and I chucked the tin. I added the green beans and stir-fried them in the almond butter garlic, adding salt and pepper. Very tasty.

Answer #5: Happily Trashed Anchovy Tin!

Enough already. I’m sick of anchovies now.