Friday, November 21

Oscar's Grocery

"Oh man, I'm soooo hungry."
"Me too. Let's get something to eat."
"Hmm. I'll go anywhere, but not Oscar's Grocery."
"Eww no. It looks sooo gross. I heard they had fingernails in their bread."
"Whoa. I heard they had boogers in their soup."
"Egh. Oh no! It looks like everything but Oscar's is closed!"
"Oh man, I'm SO hungry! What are we going to do?"
"I guess we'll have to go to Oscar's."
"Oh gross. I guess I'll get a cinnamon roll. I hope there aren't any fingernails. . ."
"Me too. Well here we go."
"Hey. . . .this is. . . .really good!"
"Oh my gosh. This is the best cinnamon roll I've ever tasted!"

The enchanting dialogue you have just read is a rough recreation of a game my siblings and I used to play entitled: Oscar's Grocery. We would use this role-play whenever we would have a stick of gum. We would roll the stick up so it looked like a cinnamon roll and go through all the steps until we were forced to acquiesce and buy food from Oscar's. Then we would timidly bite into our "cinnamon roll" and let the surprised delight and praise for this ill-reputed grocery spring forth. I know what you're thinking. The answer is yes. Yes, we were home-schooled.
I've always had the same Oscar's Grocery attitude towards banana-flavored things. Not with such a level of disgust that we held for Oscar's, but why would I pick banana when there were other possibilities? I like bananas and banana bread, but beyond that banana just always seemed like such a blah option to me when there are things like peaches, melons, and berries.
Over the weekend, Matthew, Allison, and I headed to the Lagunas de Chacahua. On our way we stopped for breakfast in Puerto Escondido. The restaurant had a tantalizing list of licuados.
Licuados are a blended drink of fruit, milk, and either sugar or honey to sweeten it. Occasionally they will include nuts or chocolate instead of fruit. They are similar to a smoothie, but since milk is used instead of only fruit or yogurt they are fairly thin.
I was excited for a cantaloupe licuado, but when Matthew tried to order it, the proprietress informed us that there was only banana available. Blah, I think would appropriately summarize my internal response. I've always been a supporter of bananas in smoothies where other fruits are featured, it gives a nice heft, but as a solo artist? I quickly opted for an orange juice. Matthew went ahead and got the banana licuado. Fortunately, just like in my childhood game, just because I'm not thrilled about something, doesn't mean I'm not going to try it (Not eating vs. eating--which did you think would win?). Good thing too, because the licuado was fantastic. Sweet, smooth, cold, and the banana was anything, but blah. The next day in Chacahua, Matthew's second banana licuado cemented my love of the drink. "I LOVE BANANA LICUADOS!" So at my first chance I recruited Allison (and her blender) to make my own.

Licuado de platano
This will probably make about three large servings
6 ripe bananas
3 C milk
5 Tbsp honey
1 tsp vanilla extract

Throw everything in a blender and whrrrrrr until smooth.
If you prefer things extremely cold,
throw in a cup of crushed ice. Salud.

1 comment:

  1. I have to tell you, I thought that dialogue was between you and Matthew in present-day Mexico. Of course you home-schooled Perdues would make a theatrical production about a rolled-up piece of gum.