Quesadillas and Pupusas

Thursday, Jan. 31, 2013—Jinotega

It’s been a quiet, restful day.  I didn’t feel like climbing in the hills, so I spent my time in the town and in my room.

I read the newspapers for a while in the morning over the Internet.  The owner of the hotel brought me a cup of coffee which was pleasant to get, since no breakfast is included with this room. 

When I went out, I was determined to try to find a bakery called Casa de Don Colocho.  I had unsuccessfully searched for it twice yesterday using the problematic Nicaraguan address system:  3 blocks south of the Parque Central followed by 3 blocks east.  I found two small bakeries, but I never found Colocho.  This morning, I went to the intersection that was 3 blocks south and 3 blocks east and asked a man.  He said I had to go a block back north and half a block further east.  Therefore, the address should have been 2 blocks south of Parque Central followed by 3 1/2 blocks east.  Anyway, I bought two pastries—one with pineapple and one with sugar, cheese, and coconut.  Then, as I ate them,  I walked through the market area which was nearby.

Eventually, I went to Parque Central where I sat and read until 1:00.  I bought a quesadilla from a woman with a cart.  It was a cold, thick corn tortilla which she covered with a thick slice of cheese (somewhat like mozzarella) which was the same size as the tortilla.  She put pickled onions inside and dollops of sour cream and rolled it up.  It was presented to me in a small plastic bag with a napkin.  I wandered and ate it—a nice tart taste, although not as flavorful as I would have liked.  It was almost impossible to taste the cheese.  The tortilla was wonderful, though.

I wandered to the cemetery on the edge of town and considered climbing part of the way up a hillside there, but I turned back.  I returned to the hotel and did research on places to stay in Leon, my second stop after leaving here.  The choices there seem limited with higher prices than seemed justified by their descriptions and amenities.  I’ll not make a reservation.  Instead, I will see 2-3 places and then decide on the one which seems the best value.

After further reading in the room, I went back out around 17:00 to get something more to eat.  Beside the pizza truck, a woman was making papusas, the Honduran specialty of a stuffed tortilla which is cooked until toasted and then topped with pickled cabbage.  I ordered two—one with chicken inside and the other with chicharon.  Both were absolutely fantastic!!  The price was 20 cents each.

Back at the room, I watched BBC news on TV and read further in my novel.  As I said above, it was a day for relaxing.  I’ll probably have more days like this.  My money problems when I first entered Nicaragua caused me to speed up my trip some to get to an ATM.  That means that I now have a bit more time on my hands than is needed for where I have left to visit.  It’s too far and too much hassle to try to go back and do what I missed before, so I will stretch out my stays in my last 3-4 places longer than they would normally be.  I return home two weeks from today.