Chocolate, Chocolate, and more Chocolate!

I have been off work for the past week, enjoying some down time while the boys I work with are on a surf vacation in Nicaragua. We spent one week doing renovations at the bar and restaurant, Tasty Waves, giving the place a much needed make over. Since Wednesday, while the rest of the Tasty Waves front of house staff have been surfing and enjoying some Nicaraguan beach time in San Juan de Sur, I have been reveling in my free time. I have slept a lot, like, a lot a lot. Most days I've been sleeping about 11 hours, which has been fabulous! I love to sleep, and I love to wake up whenever I want, not to the sound of a little phone beeping at me. But, I did decide to take a break from all my sleeping and enjoy one of the activies of the Southern Caribbean, The Caribeans Chocolate Tour.

Caribeans is a bean-to-bar chocolate and coffee lounge. It's where Jahsiah and I sell the focaccia bread that we make. The owner, our friend Paul, had invited us a while back to join him on the tour so we could learn more about his operation. The chocolate at Caribeans comes from their farm, which is behind the coffee shop, about a 30 minute walk up the road, into the jungle. We decided the Saturday, 2pm tour would work best for our schedule and we meet at Caribeans, ready to taste some chocolate. Jeff, co-owner of the Caribeans operation, was our tour guide, and the other tour members consisted of a family from Texas, Mom, Dad, and daughter Chloe. We began our walk up the hill, a bit of a hill but still nothing compared to our driveway, and we quickly came upon our first cacao tree. The fruit of the tree is about the size of a mango, but looks a bit more like a sqaush, with a ridged surface. The fruit doesn't grow in the tops of the tress like most fruit, but rather sticks out oddly from different parts of the trunk. It doesn't look at all like chocolate.

Jeff pointed out the cacao tress and also taught us about other trees we were encountering, pointed out a few poison dart frogs that we passed, and showed us where we could probably locate sloths, based on which leaves they like to eat. As we ascended to the top of the hill,with howlers monkeys serenading our ascent,  we learned about the history of cacao. It originated in South America, most likely Venezula, and was transported by way of trade up through Central America and into Southern Mexico. Cacao used to be currency and was valued higher than gold. It became the drink of the gods and the Aztecs drank it ceremoniously. It dates back to 1,500 B.C.E. and remains of it have been founded in pottery DNA in Guatemala and other locations. Based on the origins of chocolate and the likely trade routes of pre-Colombian people, the Southern Caribbean was a probable stop on the chocolate road. When we reached the summit of the hill, with a view of the Caribbean Sea (the best view I've seen since we arrived here 5 months ago), I felt a little bit like Aztec nobility, ready to drink my beverage of the gods.

The beans inside the fruit. Photo courtesy of someoneone

 else, because I forgot my camera.

Jeff showed us how the beans, found inside the fruit, are removed, by hand, no fancy machines at this farm, and placed in a hole in the ground. The hole, with the beans inside, is covered and left for 2 days to begin the fermenting process. After 2 days, the beans are stirred and moved to another hole for 2 more days. This process is repeated one more time and then the beans are moved to trays to dry. The fermenting process takes 6 days, and the drying process takes 5 days, after which you have a dried chocolate bean, which looks something like a coffee bean, but much bigger. We learned that chocolate, in it's pure form, before Hersey gets a hold of it and ruins it, is so high in anti-oxidants that just two chocolate beans is comparable to 4 cups of blueberries. That's right, I said it, chocolate is good for you!

We then moved over to the tasting deck where the real fun began. Sitting on a wooden porch, over looking the panoramic sea view, we began our chocolate experience. Caribeans grows and harvests their own chocolate, but they also purchase beans from other farms in the area that don't have their own workshop to turn the chocolate from a bean into a bar. And since the trees only fruit about every 4 months, having several sources of beans helps them keep up with demand. We sampled chocolate from Bananito, Cocles, Hone Creek, and the Kekoldi  Indigenous Reserve. Each piece of chocolate was 72% cacao and 28% local sugar cane. Each one tasted so different! Jeff had us break the piece of chocolate to listen for the different "Snaps!" that the chocolate made. Then we smelled them, took small bites, savoring each piece and describing the different, unique tastes that each chocolate had. The different tastes could be from the soil where the trees are grown, the about of humidity in the air, or differences in the fermenting and drying processes. After we sampled the 4 chocolates on their own, we were given the Caribean's version of the Aztec ceremonial chocolate drink. Pure cacao, hot water, cayenne, vanilla, and honey all mixed together, served warm in little glasses. The heat of the cayenne plus the strong chocolate instantly made me feel powerful and ready to take on the world. No wonder it was the drink of the gods and consumed regularly by those wealthy enough to afford it.

We chased our chocolate shooters with, you guessed it, more chocolate! The same 4 chocolates we had tried before, were brought again, this time in smaller pieces, along with 2 trays of herbs and spices. One tray had cinamon, cayenne, curry, sea salt, black pepper, and ground coffee while the other had peppermint, ginger, lemongrass, cilantro, oregano, vanilla, and garlic. Yes folks, that right, raw, minced garlic. We were told to take pieces of the chocolate and make our own flavor combinations. One of my favorite was the garlic and curry powder combined. The ginger and lemongrass was also really good. And I liked the vanilla and cayenne. Ok, I liked all the combinations I tried. Who isn't going to like chocolate, plus amazing spices and herbs? And, the herbs all came from the little herb garden right next to the tasting deck.

So, hoped up on chocolate, we proceeded down to the workshop to see where the magic happens. Paul built the workshop himself with the intention of doing everything as low-tech as possible so that the process can be taught and replicated to other small cacao farmers. In the workshop, the beans are roasted, just like coffee beans and then the outer shells are removed in a grinder of sorts. Once the chocolate has been sifted from the shell, it gets put in what is called a melanger. This is sort of like a huge mortar and pestle, which grinds the coffee for about 72 hours until the natural oils begin to heat up and the roasted chocolate bean litteraly turns to liquid. That's it, nothing added, no water, no milk, no other liquid, just the dried bean, ground for 3 days, and BAM! Liquid gold! At this point in the process, you can add other flavors if you like, and this is usually when the 28% sugar gets up in the mix. We got to dip spoons straight into the melanger and lick off pure, fresh, warm chocolate, a la liking the cookie dough out of the bowl, or cleaning the brownie residue off the spoon, but let me tell you Toll House doesn't have diddly sqaut on Caribeans!

Roasted beans, also not my photo, because I suck at remembering to take my camera anywhere!

With one last treat, a sneak peak at a new flavor Paul is working on, we sampled a chai chocolate bar, which was delicious, and began our descent from chocolate heaven. Empowered by all that chocolate, the walk back was quick and we made it down the hill just before it started raining. The family from Texas had a great time and the little girl got her fill of chocolate. Jahsiah, who never liked chocolate before coming here and trying real chocolate, was excited to have learned more about the history of where we are, and I was simply content to have done something other than make drinks on a Saturday afternoon. We thanked Paul and Jeff and headed to the car, wanting to get home and feed the dogs.

It was a great experience to finally go on the chocolate tour. So much fun to learn about the history of cacao, the history of the area, explore a different part of this rich land, and taste so many delicious things. If you ever find yourself in the Puerto Viejo area, you have to do the Caribeans Chocolate Tour. You'll leave feeling god-like and with a suitcase filled with chocolate bars for your friends and family back home. That is if you can manage to not eat all the chocolate before you do, in fact, return home.


**Caribeans offers tours Tuesdays and Thursdays at 10am and 2pm
                                  Saturday at 2pm
The price is $26 per person. Reservations not required but recommended for large groups or for times other than listed.

Make Room Heaven, You've Got a New Ambassador!

Last night I watched a movie which wasn't particularly good, and I can't even tell you what it's called. But there was this scene, where a woman was crying after she had left her husband who she discovered had been cheating on her. And I thought to myself, it's been a long time since I've cried like that, or been sad enough to cry like that. I mean a real emotional breakdown. As odd as it sounds, I was a little jealous. To be so sad, to shed tears and feel pain of loss means you have loved something so much, that's the only way to create such sorrow. The past six months have been so great for me, finally driving to Costa Rica, finding a beautiful house, making new friends and getting an awesome job, I haven't had a reason to be sad in quite some time; until today.

This morning I checked my email and found a message from a old co-worker of mine from my job at The Altarena Playhouse. She was informing me of our good friend Rick James' failing health. He had been battling cancer, brain tumors, for the past few years and according to his girlfriend, was nearing the end of his journey. His girlfriend was urging those who loved him to send him letters, cards, or visit him to say goodbye. This news wasn't unexpected. He knew for quite sometime now that his cancer was terminal. As I sat down an hour later to write him an email, I saw another email that Rick has passed away this morning, peacefully, surrounded by loved ones.

Rick James came to be the Ambassador for The Altarena Playhouse around the same time that I began working there as the Box Office Manager in January of 2010. He had been involved with the playhouse before, but he created the role of Ambassador for himself, helping out with front of house duties, pouring wine, getting our season ticket holder numbers up from 600 when I started to over 800 by the time I left. He had a name tag and all, and he would wear it out around town in Alameda, where he was known and loved by many through his job as a middle school teacher, his involvement at church and his general friendliness.

Rick was one of those great people to be around. Always helpful in anyway possible. Eager to lend a hand, do a favor, excited to hear your stories and tell you his. He really came out of his shell in the years that I knew him. When our theater did its production of The Rocky Horror Picture Show, he came dressed in fishnet stalkings and a lab coat every night. He always encouraged his students to come see shows and rewarded them with extra credit for being involved in and attending the theater. He knew how to have a good time, he loved wine and good food. He loved the arts, music, theater, song. He loved going to church. He loved teaching and being around his students. He kept doing everything he loved right up until the end. He knew his life was coming to an end, but he lived every last moment of it, and his energy rubbed off on everyone around him.

I didn't get to write him an email telling him how much he meant to me. I didn't get to say goodbye. I hate that. I don't doubt that he knew how much I loved him. He knew he was loved by a great many people. He was a good person, a special person. It's just always so hard to know that bright lights go dim before they should.

Today has been the coldest day I've experienced since I got to Costa Rica. I woke up to the rain. Recieved the sad news, and have been spending some time looking at old pictures and thinking fondly of my time with Rick. I feel blessed to have met him, and privledged to have been able to call him my friend. I feel sorry for those who did not know him, and I feel sorry for the community he is leaving behind. The rain hasn't stopped all day and I think the jungle is crying with me, aware that a beautiful soul has left us.

I'm drinking a bottle of cheap white wine, which Rick would have hated, he preferred reds. But I know he would have drank it with me anyways. Here's to you Rick James! I know Heaven has one hell of an Ambassador!

At the Cast Party for The Fantastiks