Welcome to Little Canada!

I’ve stated that I have two lives, in two different countries, but I don’t mention often enough that I am also blessed with two separate families. In Canada, I have my husband and two grown children, a couple of grandbabies, and an assortment of siblings and their own children, not to mention some very dear friends…

Here in Honduras, I have what I call my “Hondo Family” and right off the bat I want to make it very clear that this is NOT meant to be a negative name in any fashion whatsoever! It’s just a shorter form of Honduran, that’s all.

And the family now consists of my woman friend, Glondy, in her early 40’s, her daughters in their 20’s (one with two baby boys) and her 12 yr old son who is half Canadian. Sadly, her Canadian husband passed away in 2008 but our own friendship has not only continued but even strengthened over time.

It’s a confusing mix of folks sometimes! Some of the confusion arises primarily because of language but also because of different cultural backgrounds and personality types.

Thankfully the 12 year old is fully bilingual, (when he wants to be, in typical pre-teen fashion!), Glondy and her daughters have marginally competent English and I stagger along in Spanish, very slowly picking up vocabulary though sorely lacking in grammar skills. Conversations can be awkward when we try to get past the basic niceties of day to day life, but we’ve learned to be patient with each other with lots of hugs and laughter and reaching for the Spanish-English dictionary when in my home.

They’ve taught me a lot about life here in Honduras! Little things like how to cook chicken on an outside grill, where to find the best chicarrones in town, where not to swim in La Ceiba and most recently how to use a cell phone.

I am almost completely incompetent with electronic devices, have a dislike for speaking on a telephone because I can’t see the persons’ face and need a lot of repetition before a new skill is actually set in my brain. After 3 weeks, I am no longer frightened when it rings (which Glondy and the family found endlessly amusing!) and have progressed to the point where I can enter contacts, dial out and usually answer an incoming call – that’s my level of incompetence with electronics!

In return for great companionship and Honduran food, shared within a family, I am able to give back in my own little ways. Every year I take numerous photographs and print out albums for them to keep, complete with CD’s of the same. Right now, I’m helping Glondy deal with the probate of her husband’s estate as she has no experience with business and is incapable of standing up to any authority figure. Our joke is that she is too nice and I am too difficult, so we make use of our personality differences.

One of the things that I love to do the most is to have the family over for a meal every week or so, complete with a varied spread of “boccas” incorporating Honduran favourites like chicarrone, plantenos and casaba with salsa but adding Canadian based treats like vegetable sticks, crackers & cream cheese and the 12 year olds personal favourite of “ants on a log”, simply peanut butter on celery sticks with raisins on top.

I’ll make up homemade spaghetti sauce, chilli con carne or chicken stew but the latest adventure was the night of the fried liver with onions, garlic and fresh mushrooms over mashed potatoes. Not typical Honduran fare but very well received and appreciated by all. I’m starting to think I may have been a short order cook in a past lifetime as I only have a two burner propane cook stove in a very small galley style kitchen!

So there’s a glimpse of my second family, in my second life, and just one more reason why I keep returning to Honduras……

Chicarrone y Tajadas

It’s common knowledge that I not only love food, but that my sense of adventure doesn’t balk at culinary unknowns. Yes, I’ve had a few bad adventures but on the whole, the risk has always been worth it to me…

I have to admit to a ridiculous passion for foods we just don’t see up North. I remember trying to eat my body weight in ceviche when I first discovered it in Mexico and have taken to making a version of the fairly raw, marinated shrimp dish at home. I’ve made baleadas up in Canada, though they just don’t taste the same as here in Honduras, even though I once packed home the correct flour, soda and refried beans.

Locally, I indulge in the crisp little planteno chips, for 20 Lps a bag, (unsalted) that I buy from the back of a pickup truck near one of the major stores; the garlic flavoured casaba from the Garifuna women on Avenida Julio 14 (same price per bag) and various and sundry other bits like sweet, salted green mangos sliced in a bag to munch while walking down the street. But my absolute favourite has got to be chicarrone.

Chicarrone is basically boiled fatty pig skin and comes out crisp on one side with remnants of juicy fat on the other. When freshly cooked, we just squeeze fresh lime juice overtop and gobble it, while bouncing it hand to hand to avoid burning your fingers and when cold, simply break it up and eat it like potatoe chips with dabs of salsa. Yummy and I don’t have to worry about cholesterol and things like that!

Another favourite of mine is the staple dish of tajadas, just sliced plantenos cooked and served as a dinner staple like Canadians use potatoes. Add a little brown sugar sauce, cook until almost mushy and you have “maduras”, a sinfully sweet and totally satisfying side dish.


While out in El Pino one afternoon, family friends had killed a young pig and were cooking up a batch of chicarrone y tajadas. So there we were, with the communal table in the back yard, bags of salt and limes to the side with the open fire brewing up a vat of first chicarrone and then reused to cook up tajadas.

Health standards, what health standards? I work on the principle that the locals have survived their own cooking for generations, I’ve been here long enough to build up some kind of “Honduran immune system” and I rarely get caught out. That day was no different, with all of us thoroughly enjoying ourselves and myself taking a small measure of pride in not holding myself above them. Honduran families can be overly generous when they have the opportunity, and I would make a poor guest if I refused over squeamishness about a few germs!

Post script: Reputed to be the best place in La Ceiba to purchase chicarrone is Chicarronera QuiQue, located on Calle 19 about 3 blocks east of Avenida Julio 14. Check it out! Yet, again, sorry about the photos - Blogger hates me!