GUATEMALTECAN COOKERY.
I do not speak of the tables of the upper classes, where variety is found in Guatemala as well as elsewhere; but of the common cookery that a stranger finds in travelling, it may truly be said that it has not a national character, nor does justice to the abundant material at hand. What there is of it is, however, good; a fresh tortilla is better than the cakes of the Northern backwoods, and the wheaten bread made by the panadero of the village is exceedingly palatable. Frijoles, or beans, the most popular general dish, are always stewed over an open fire, and are much better than the baked beans of New England. Eggs are always present, either fried, poached, or baked in the shell (huevos tibios); when fried, always seasoned with tomato, chillis, and vinegar. Salchichas, or sausages, fried in lard, with plenty of garlic; gigote, or hashed meat; higate, a potage made of figs, pork, fowl, sugar, ginger, cinnamon and allspice, bread, soup, and innumerable ollas,—are present as solid dishes, the meats generally being of poor quality. Besides the vegetables of Northern gardens, there are chiotes, palm-cabbage, and, best of all, plantain. For verduras, or greens, there are many plants,—none, however, better than spinach or dandelions; and the ensaladas are not remarkable. In the shore region one can have most delicious turtle-steak, white and tender as veal, iguanas fricasseed,—perhaps the best native dish,—javia-steaks, armadillo (which I am sorry to say I have not eaten), and fish of many kinds and flavors.
I have spoken of the bad coffees served as “esencia,” but have not said enough about the chocolate, which I never found carelessly prepared. Perhaps the best is prepared entirely at home; that is, the beans of cacao are carefully roasted, as coffee might be, and the shells removed by rubbing in the hands. The metatle then serves to crush the oily mass, as corn is prepared in tortilla-making; sugar is added, and enough cinnamon or vanilla to flavor the crushed cacao, which becomes pasty by grinding, and may be run into moulds, or simply dropped on some cool surface to harden. These chocolate-drops are dissolved in boiling milk as wanted, and the whole churned to a froth. Prepared in this way, chocolate is much better than the cake chocolate of the manufacturers. An ancient recipe was much more complicated than this, and although I have never tried it myself, I venture to give it to my readers. It is this: “One hundred cacaos,—treating them as has been described,—two pods of chilli, a handful of anis and orjevala, two of mesachasil or vanilla (this may be replaced by six roses of Alexandria, powdered), two drams of cinnamon, a dozen each of almonds and filberts, half a pound of white sugar, and arnotto to color it.” This mixture must of course be whipped to a froth.
Perhaps the people of Guatemala are as cleanly as others; but according to our observation the common practice was to allow the dogs to lick the dishes, which received no additional washing. It was the custom also at the table d’hôte in the hotels to finish a meal by filling the mouth with water and spurting it on the tiled floor. Once, when we stopped at a way-side house to get some coffee, the señora made a little fire out of doors, put the coffee in a very black pot to boil, and, after fanning the reluctant fire with her straw hat, threw herself on the ground near by to rest and smoke her puro. When the pot was near to boiling, she reached out her bare leg and tested the temperature of the contents with her toe, as a Northern cook might have used his finger. Frank was scandalized; but, after all, it was merely a matter of taste.