Those who know me understand that I literally live on baleadas while in Honduras; I've even gone to the extent of bringing all the makings home in order to do it myself, even though they just don't taste quite as good as the real ones.
By the real thing, I mean the street corner wagons with their burners and metal pans and great messes of "stuff" or else the semi-permanent stalls set up on the old trolley tracks on Avenida La Republica, not a "tourist" type of zone.
Basically a baleada is simply a flour tortilla, hand patted and flipped on a hot sheet of metal. Then you add the refried beans (a rather unattractive sight) using the back of the serving spoon to smear it, and finally add a sprinkling of dried cheese. Fold it in half, slap onto a sheet of tin foil, slip it into a plastic bag and away you go. Many times I've simply opened it up, splashed on the "chili" (hot sauce) and if I can see it, I'll also add a splat of pickled red onions. If you're fortunate, there will be a short plastic stool to sit on, right there on the sidewalk, and otherwise you simply stand and eat right there with all the pedestrian and vehicular traffic going past you.
Even though I’ve probably broken every rule for tourist travellers – yes, I eat on street corners, chew ice cubes, order salad if I’m eating out, etc. I’ve also set some marginal rules for myself. Never, ever, ever order a baleada “con carne” tends to be a hard and fast rule for me, because the meat is totally unrecognizable and therefore you have no idea who it used to be.
I also really like the bags of fresh juice that you can buy at street stalls – I have a passion for the orange juice because you can faintly taste that citrus peel tang in it. Besides, I think it’s quite clever how they throw the straw in, do some kind of twist and flip motion and then you’ve got a little “tail” of plastic bag up at the straw that you can hold onto while drinking or carrying it. Thus, I went out hunting my first morning in La Ceiba, to score my own version of a breakfast of champions and was quite pleased to see that the prices hadn’t risen too much. I paid 10 lempira (60 cents CDN) each for my baleada and my bag of juice and strolled back to the hotel to eat. Tasted great, didn’t hurt when it landed and worked just like rocket fuel for me as I took off to face the day of business transactions.
I have been completely betrayed, after spending last night trotting back and forth to the bathroom. I am going to blame the juice, since I can’t bear the thought of the baleada being at fault! Not too worry – I'm moving home today and a home made grilled cheese sandwich should fix things up proper!
