Life’s Simple Pleasures

One of the best things about my current life is having the time to enjoy simple pleasures like the sound of crickets at night and the chirp of birds in the morning (OK, the riotous song of dozens of roosters), and the way the late afternoon sun shines underneath the canopy of leaves of the big tree at the end of the block.

It pleases me to watch the two baby chichalacas – who are now so used to us they walk right up to us and have to be shooed (is that really a word) off the pickle ball court. And I love to smell the lilies full blossomed in my living room (I use these to mask the smell of mildew which is pervasive in the tropics).

Best of all though - Avocado Toast! But not just any avocado toast.

This morning’s avocado toast began several days ago while riding a rickety old bike down a back country road. There we passed a small shack with clothes hanging on the line and small children playing in the yard. Loud music was playing and as we passed, I caught glimpse of a large handmade basket filled with large avocados. Not the wrinkly small dark green kind, but the large smooth skinned variety. Screeeeeeeeeeech goes my bike. “Hola!” I shout out. “Feliz Anos Nuevo” I said to the small children standing there barefooted at the gate wondering who the heck I was and what I wanted (not too many gringos heading down their dirt road I suspect). “Quiero comprar tus aguacates” (I want to buy your avocados), I said. The children ran into the house and shortly after a man came out. “Cuánto cuesta, senor?” “10 Pesos” he says. 10 pesos! These avocados were the size of small watermelons!

One avocado this size would feed me for a week, and he wanted only 10 pesos. I took two, and he went on to explain they would be ready in a few days.

When we got home I wrapped them carefully in a towel, and each day since I have unwrapped them carefully, and gently pushed on the skin. This morning they were ready! THE PERFECT DONENESS.

The next step in the perfect avocado toast is the bread. Now if you know me, you would know I always bake my own bread. Well, doing that down here is an exercise in futility – or perhaps even – stupidity. You see when I first got here I spent days trying to find wheat flour. Lots of corn flour, and Mexico’s version of Bisquick and pancake mix, but no flour. I was confounded. Then I realized that I did not find it because I was looking for a large bag...no such thing here. Wheat flour here is sold in the smallest little bag that holds exactly 3 cups - not even enough for a complete recipe. No problem, I can adapt.

It then took me two weeks to find some yeast. I eventually did find some yeast and it was in a HUGE bag. Go figure. At home we have large bags of flour and teeny tiny bags of yeast – the opposite of here. Anyway, after baking bread and filling my already hot house with more hot air, I was beginning to wonder at the reasonableness of the venture. But what really convinced me to stop baking bread was going to the local Chadraui grocery store. There at the back was the most amazing display of fresh baked goods including small loaves of many different kinds of bread, buns, donuts, muffins, croissants – you name it. So for today’s toast, a lovely small loaf of artisan bread (which cost about .50 cents), lightly toasted in the gas oven, and topped with perfectly thin slices of nutty yellow avocado topped with a little cilantro and rock salt, and of course, a perfectly poached egg.

Ahhhh, the small pleasures in life.