An inquisitive old fart with a camera
Inspired by local expats who have started making sausage, but not by their product or prices, the kid decided to make his own, and diligently cranked and cranked and cranked with a neighbor’s manual grinder. Lot of work.
So when we found an electric one at Tienda Inglesa, we said why not and shelled out some bonus points. The kid cranked it up, and it worked like a charm!
For an hour. Unfortunately, not completely unexpected with products sold here.
A frequent discussion theme among expats is the number of things not available in Uruguay. Long-handled shovels. Even something as simple as a bevel gauge and rafter square, which a friend carried down from the States not long ago. But checking out a local friend’s recommendations, I found both in two different stores in Montevideo.
And so it was with Garam Masala: we thought it had to be brought in, since Uruguayans for the most part consider anything more than salt and pepper to be excessively strong flavoring. Imagine my surprise when I spotted it on a spice rack at our rural carnicería (butcher’s)!
(From Hindi: गरम मसाला, garam (“hot”) and masala (spices).
And, in true Latin American form (I noted this in Mexico as well), the graphic design renders the type almost illegible. But hey, garam masala is garam masala, whether you can read the packaging or not!
Though it doesn’t show well in the photo, the lemon tree I planted over three years ago is finally producing a healthy amount of fruit.
Alas, nothing compared to that of a friend, who showed up with two bags of lemons from her backyard. On the counter…
A lovely addition to agua con gas, they’re alkaline-forming in the body.
And they have a ton of other uses as well.
I hear a yell from my wife upstairs, and look to see Rodrigo, who left for New Zealand over 18 months ago, strolling up the driveway! Seems he likes surprises; he told no one but his brother (since he needed a ride from the airport) that he was arriving. Serious noise at his parents’ house: what are you yelling about, his mother demanded of his sister, who saw him first.
New Zealand gives out 200 work permits per year for Uruguayan kids; he left last year ahead of the others. Great joy to see him back.
Elsewhere in the news, we had chivitos today. Big deal? At Marcos, yes. Big. When we moved to Uruguay, I promised myself I would not have a chivito more than once a month. This is my first (I think) this year. What’s a chivito? Watch (note: since posting, blocked in Uruguay; requires VPN…or just have fun searching chivito on your own!)
The fig tree by the barn has lots of figs on it. The neighbor told me that from his three fig trees, last summer he ate three figs.
The parrots got the rest.
Apparently the introduction of tall non-native trees to Uruguay allowed birds to nest safely above the range of comadrejas (possums). So now the birds are free to ravage crops. Pigeons are equally a problem. Actually, the real problem is that both birds are dumb; were they crows, you could hang a dead one near your crop and the others wouldn’t return.
A friend hunts them, partly as a favor to a farmer he knows. Nail one or two, and there’s barely time to reload before the rest return to the exact same spot.
New lettuce, and one cabbage plant, amidst very happy cilantro (growing with a top-dressing of seaweed). All volunteers, dug up from friends’ unworked garden that was very active garden last year.
Probably 98% of the coffee sold in super (and other) markets in Uruguay is ground and glaseado – meaning sugar added.
As far as I know, the only place to buy real coffee is Palacio del Cafe in Montevideo. They do not have a stunning selection, but they do have rather stunning packaging:
You can also get their coffee at Tienda Inglesa in Punta del Este (in the bakery section, natch). In that case, however, you’ll get more modern (say, post-1930) graphics.
Current cost UYP 355/kg = USD 7.45/lb.