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Toledo, Belize

After surviving a violent thunderstorm and a chorus of howler monkeys the first night we stayed in the Jungle House at Cotton Tree Lodge, I was ready for something a little more structured.

On the schedule the next morning for Chocolate Week led by Taza Chocolate, was a trip to a local cacao farm. We would see how cacao pods are grown, meet the farmer, and have lunch with his family. I’m not exactly sure what I was expecting. I think I was imagining some kind of plantation where the trees grow in neat rows kind of like an apple orchard and that maybe afterward we’d sit around a big farm table in the kitchen and swap stories. Wrong, completely wrong.

Meet Eladio Pop, cacoa farmer.

Eladio and a cacao pod

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I almost didn’t go. Even though the thought of spending Chocolate Week at Cotton Tree Lodge sounded like a home run as a vacation adventure it was a lot of money and I was having trouble finding someone to go with me. When I called to find out how much room was still available I was told there was only one cabana left: the Jungle House.

All of the other cabanas are nestled around the Cotton Tree Lodge with views of the Moho River. The Jungle House was a quarter of a mile away by itself. Um. By myself and deep in the jungle? I wasn’t sure about this. But after some prompting from friends and family that it would “be good for me” I took a deep breath and sent in my deposit.

And then I thought of my friend Carol. Carol bakes and blogs at The Pastry Chef’s Baking. A business manager at a media mogul in Silicon Valley (that shall remain nameless) Carol had once taken time off from work to get a culinary arts degree before deciding she’d rather keep her love of baking as a hobby. Nonetheless, Carol is a true chocolate geek. So I sent her an e-mail seeing if she’d be interested.

“How much time do I have to decide?” she wrote back. I explained that I had already reserved the cabana, she just had to figure out her flights, and could really have up to the last minute to decide. Within a half hour I got a response.

“I’m in.” Phew.

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Seeing that is February, and that chocolate will soon rain from the sky on Feb. 14, I have a story I’ve been meaning to tell you. It involves a journey to Central America, a magnificent thunderstorm deep in the jungle, the prehistoric roar of howler monkeys, a tree house, a giant Wolf spider, cave diving, oppressive jungle heat, and chocolate – lots and lots of chocolate.

But I am getting ahead of myself.

The story actually begins in a snowy industrial section of Boston on a December day when my friend Jessica and I decided to take a tour of a chocolate factory.

Now, there are no golden tickets in this story but there was a brochure that gray and miserable afternoon that promised adventure, and warmth, and a week of chocolate in a place called the Cotton Tree Lodge near Punta Gorda, Belize.

Yes.

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She’ll be coming ’round the mountain when she comes. You know the song right? The one where some mysterious stranger driving a team of white horses comes to visit and the family rallies to kill the old red rooster. And then they all have chicken and dumplings like that is a really good thing. I mean, wow. That must have been some VIP if the rooster has to go into the pot  – and yet she has to sleep with Grandma in red pajamas. Go figure. The song simply does not make sense. Continue Reading »

It’s getting really complicated around here. Our next storm is on the way and conversations at work are beginning to take on new levels of strategic intricacy:

I’m planning on driving in after rush hour and get a snow pass for my car to leave it in the garage over night and then I’ll take the early train home because the snow storm is supposed to hit just as the evening rush hour begins. If I can’t make it in tomorrow on the train then I’ll have to work from home and hope the power doesn’t go out again.

When you work for a news organization that doesn’t recognize “snow days,” surrendering to the weather is not an option. Ever. This is why I keep wading through blizzards wearing my ski goggles on my way to the train. (Strangely, whenever I wear my goggles walking down the sidewalk neighbors out shoveling always say hello to me and tell me what good idea I had to wear my goggles. These are people I don’t know. I’m not making this up. Try it sometime.)

So. Since we have no control over the complicated weather, this calls for simple food. Really, really simple food. Like blue cheese melted on sourdough toast, slabs of thick bacon, drizzled with honey, and sprinkled with cracked pepper. If you want to get fancy, you can brush each side of the sourdough bread with olive oil and broil it for 2 minutes a side in the oven. Or just toast it in your toaster. Whatever you want. Do I need to say more? No, I do not.

I found this recipe in “Harvest to Heat” by Darryl Estrine and Kelly Kochendorfer. It is a wonderful cookbook that tells you where your food came from, how it was grown, and who loved it before it arrived on your plate. Their Blue Cheese Tartine (a fancy French word for open-faced sandwich) is the first recipe and says hello just the way it should. Continue Reading »

The first words I heard this morning were “…  2 inches of snow followed by sleet followed by freezing rain.”

A wintry mix. Again. We are only one boot into January and we’ve already been walloped with two blizzards and now rainwater is flooding icy sidewalks and curbsides. But I haven’t succumbed to the winter blues – yet. I mean, at least the weather outside is interesting even if it has been a bit frightful lately.

Last week my commute to work in the blizzard looked like this:

And this:

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Since I’ve started this little food blog and especially since I started producing Stir It Up! on CSMonitor.com I find that a lot of people share their food-related thoughts with me and sometimes ask me questions. Sometimes I have an answer or an idea, and sometimes I do not. Here are for-real questions that I’ve received in the past two weeks:

“Do you know how to de-bone a duck?”

“I’m throwing an Inuit-themed dinner party for my wife’s birthday. Have you come across any good northern recipes that maybe Eskimos would serve?”

“I’m going to a Christmas cookie party that is actually quite competitive. Do you have any good ideas for what I could bring?”

The first two drew blank stares from me. For the third question I decided to fake it (I love a good challenge). “Sure,” I replied, “I think you should take snowman cupcakes.”

What? Where did that come from? I’ve never seen or made snowman cupcakes. Continue Reading »

Cape Cod cranberry orange relish

At every Thanksgiving table there is some kind of cranberry, whether it is canned, sauced, or chopped into a relish. We have always been a relish family. Again, this is a preference of texture – something to balance all of the sweet mash on the dinner plate like peas and pearl onions do. And if the relish is tangy, even better for cleansing the palate between the second and third helpings of sweet potato casserole.

I was delighted to come across this recipe in “Cape Cod Table” by Lora Brody. It has walnuts and lime juice to keep that tangy texture that I like. It also uses brown sugar and maple syrup as sweeteners instead of white sugar. I like a dish that tells a story and this one tells the story of New England. Continue Reading »

Peas and pearl onions

You may have heard that this year marks the 55th anniversary of the green bean casserole, invented by the Campbell Soup Company to promote its cream of mushroom soup. It has been called a “Thanksgiving icon.”

Not in our house. I only encountered green bean casserole if we ate Thanksgiving dinner at the homes of friends or family. My mother disdained the idea of pouring canned soup over vegetables. Americans have made green bean casserole an “icon” because all the salt, sugar, and fat make those otherwise hearty greens taste really, really good. If Hershey’s had dreamed up cocoa covered green beans they may have been the ones celebrating the anniversary.

Remember: even though green bean casserole has clocked 55 years, the Pilgrims knew nothing of it. We strove for historical purity in our house. Continue Reading »

These cookies are a riff on the recipe found inside the lid of the Quaker Oats canister. They use less butter and have some of the best flavors of Thanksgiving: cranberry, pumpkin, and cinnamon. I find them to be a great treat to make a day or two after the holiday meal as friends and family still linger on the sofa and the leftovers start to ebb. Continue Reading »