Passion Fruit and Pelicans

Crème brulee. Ahhhhhhhhhhh…….  The first time I had crème brulee was at the home of my sister, Joy, also known as the Martha Stewart of the Peterson family. Always on the culinary cutting edge, and first in the family to acquire the requisite blow torch and little ceramic ramekins, she could quickly whip up this dessert of silken richness with the little surprise crunch that was enough to make a chocolaholic say, “Chocolate? Hmmm, maybe tomorrow.”

Anyway, we went out for dinner in Bocas (next island over) the other night and settled in at one of our favorite spots, El Refugio.  After several delicious appertifs and shrimp spring rolls, we enjoyed a fabulous miso -encrusted  sea bass over coconut rice, and were then faced with a choice  between two  desserts—a peanut butter and oreo ice cream pie or Passion Fruit crème brulee.  Don’t ask me why, but this chocolate lover quickly leaped on the crème brulee, much to Steve’s amazement and consternation, as he has hardly ever met a crème brulee that he liked. When it arrived at the table, it was enchantment at first sight.  Served on a primitive wooden platter were two creamy yellow passion fruits, the tops cut off and the flesh scooped out-- delicate containers for the shiny crust and pale custard inside. I dipped in my spoon. Part of the pleasure of eating crème brulee is, of course, that nanosecond when your spoon first breaks through the hardened sugar top and plunges into the custard below. There is some small sense of discovery and accomplishment in that brief moment. And then spoon to mouth.  Ahhhhhhhh…. could this be? My immediate thought was, ‘This is the most delicious and surprising dessert I have ever eaten – in my whole life!’  I slowly savored every heavenly mouthful --tiny pieces of caramelized fruit in darkened sugar, and smoooooth custard. I scraped every bit out of that little fruit shell, and licked the spoon clean.  I will never forget this crème brulee--barely sweet with just a hint of passion fruit. Who knows- It may inspire me to try creating a pumpkin crème brulee for the coming celebration with family in Minnesota!

As to pelicans, I have had interesting moments watching them over the years that we have been coming to Panama. The first pelican in particular that I remember was a tragic bird who I call Senor P. He just sat there on the beach, one of his wings clearly broken, close to where we were staying in a little surf camp on the pacific side of Panama. I was stricken with a sense of impending death and couldn't take my eyes off him. There were tinaqueiros (street dogs) chasing each other in and out of the surf, paying no attention to Senor P.   A turkey buzzard of large proportions waited about 30 feet away, also just sitting there. After a while we finally had to leave the beach and headed back to our little surf shack. We went back out later and the spot where Senor P had been sitting was smooth, flat sand -- not even any feathers or blood to mark the spot. Gone without a trace. Yeah, I know, why personify a bird- this is simply Mother Nature at work, right? But, my thoughts kept going back to this poor pelican and I never see a pelican without remembering Senor P. I went so far as to make up a story about him, with a cast of other characters including the dogs and some crabs. Maybe someday I will add pictures and make it into a book for Addie.

I haverecently become aquainted with a group of pelicans here at Red Frog. At the lava rock point that lies between Playa Tortuga and Red Frog Beach, are some big trees where about a dozen pelicans hang out. I have spotted them all sitting in the trees overlooking the point at the same time, and that is a site to behold as they are very large birds. They must have a sixth sense about which branches will support their weight as they don’t have to reposition themselves- they just glide into the trees and sit facing the water. I love to walk into the ocean and turn and watch them as they sit and look around for signs of fish in the surf below them or take off into the wind currents overhead. Sometimes they cruise in little groups, sometimes all alone.   Yesterday I saw one bird glide in circles and figure eights for 40 seconds before beating its wings-- it seemed to be floating in the air. Perhaps a similar vision partly inspired the song, Poetry in Motion?

Today my pictures are from the beach, which has changed greatly in the past 3 days, as the inter tropical convergence system (did I get that name right?) is hovering over us, bringing big surf, high tides and lots of wind and rain. The beach is halfway obliterated and it is high drama—roaring crashing waves, giant sprays of water off rocks, and the sense that something big could happen. (I always think of “The Perfect Storm” in weather like this, although this is small potatoes in comparison. I was amazed that it really ended that way, and that the ending seemed all right). We are hoping this system heads back south and that blue skies and calmer waters return soon.