An Alternative Way of Cooking

"Do what you can, with what you have, where you are." - Theodore Roosevelt

The last 22 months (a la grán...) that I have spent in Guatemala during my Peace Corps service have shaped me into the person I always wanted to become (read: I have not changed at all; rather, I have become more myself). I guess plopping you down in the middle of nowhere for two years can do that to you. But I don't want to get remotely philosophical with a title like "An Alternative Way of Cooking," so let's stop right there.

Of the innumerable life skills I have learnt whilst being down here, I have finally learnt how to cook. For those of you who have known me for quite a while, this truly is nothing short of a miracle, right? And for all of you who thought that the day would never come... well, I sure showed you.

And I'm not even talking about turning popcorn kernels and oil into light, fluffy deliciousness (no microwave required)- I'm talking about baking a cake without an oven.

Let me rephrase: with a Peace Corps oven.

Becoming a Peace Corps volunteer turned out to mean more than just learning an unorthodox amount of patience for people to show up for a meeting (waiting 2+ hours at times); it means doing without the many comforts and eases of home. And no, a Peace Corps oven isn't something that we get issued by Peace Corps before heading out to site... it's just a tuna can filled with water, a couple pots and pans placed over your burner, and voila.

And I'm not even kidding.

I was recently asked by some friends of mine to show them how to make carrot cake- a simple recipe with just one or two ingredients that can be found in San Marcos- the rest available in town.

The trick to this was that Fredy and Miriam didn't have a wood-burning stove as I had originally thought- just an open fire that they always cook on.

I was up for the challenge.

Getting the batter ready before adding in the carrots.

Peace Corps oven meets campo: I guess that's kind of redundant. I only had one baking pan, but since the recipe makes two cakes, we had to make do with what was available and use a smaller pot. From bottom to top: fire, comal (a flat surface on which tortillas are usually made), on which you place a tuna can filled with water, and then you place the pans with the batter in it, and cover that with a larger pot. And wait.

About 45 minutes later (normal baking time, even at high-altitude), the finished product.

Yum! Caleb couldn't wait to fill his tummy with pastel de zanahoria.

And if you thought that was cool, what to do if you've been out in the fields all day, and all you have with you are a few eggs, a plastic bag and some water from a nearby stream? No pot or pan to cook anything in.

Eat raw eggs? Nah, not if you're with a Guatemalan.

Fredy had told me when he used to go out and work in the fields with his father as an adolescent, his father would fill a plastic bag with water and eggs and then place the plastic bag over the fire for about ten minutes until the eggs were cooked.

I didn't want to believe him- how could a plastic bag full of water not melt when placed over hot coals or even a fire?

Since it had been well over ten years since Fredy had done this, we had to try a few times until we were finally successful.

Trial numero uno. Place eggs in bag and fill with water with no air in the bag.

The bag eventually broke from the pine needles- not the fire.

...and it slightly cooked.

String to tie the bag? No es necesario.

Doña Mercedes told us that we have to cover the water- and egg-filled bag with the coals. Sounds even nuttier, but mama knows best.

There was a small mishap with the second egg... it fell onto the ground while in the bag and was no longer of use for our experiment.

Egg number three. Will we just have an egg explode all over the kitchen or a fine hard-boiled egg? We shall see.

Whoops. We kind of forgot about the egg while preparing the cake batter, but luckily the egg was still intact.

Now that's what I call a boiled egg. Who needs a pot?

Even Lester was stunned by this marvel.