A post more cheesy than the last...

in order to get organic Nicaraguan products, sometimes it requires a bit of legwork. "a bit" is putting it very moderately.

there is a farm in the north of the country that produces farmstead organic cheese (meaning, they own the cows that make the milk from which the cheese is made)...

delicious cheese.

gouda. ricotta. camembert. and more (pardon me while I wipe the drool off my chin. yes, from salivating over the cheeses, not that the intense heat down there creates a drool reflex, in case you thought that was the case).

to obtain this cheese, the first contact was easy. Someone told me about the farm in an email, and the owner has an email address (very rare). I wrote to the owner over email a handful of times over the period of one week. 

The tricky part came with the actual pick up. Because they are a small farm hours away, they don't deliver to the port near our island. But the owner's mother lives about an hour away, and we arranged to pick up the cheese from her. I had a lot of other shopping to do, so it was a long afternoon... it just so happened that there is a McDonald's slightly on the way. My first big Mac in as long as I can remember... and now, to get the cheese.

 Not really an address; but I was instructed that the house was located:

... right across from "La Nunciatura", here is were the Catholic Nuncio lives, (he is like the Ambassador of the Vatican), going to Casa Colorada, it is on the left hand side, there is a wire fence from the highway all around, you enter in Callejon Felde, there are 3 houses. ours is the first one, all the way at the end of the lot, my sister is the next house and my mother behind, you can ring a bell at the side road, there will always somebody who will attend.

   At the side of the road is a sign of a security school that my nephew try to open, a lot of sand bags for his training, and different things, it is a silver sign, with 3 sides.

why would I have trouble finding the house? what is Callejon Felde? I might have driven past a small lot with a sandbag in it? Luckily, there was a broken sign on the road distinguishing which of the gates would be best to stand and scream and honk at while waiting for the 75 year old attendant to come outside. She was decked out in a french-ish maids uniform, and with some language barrier, managed to get me in the gate past a few barking dogs... they had the 20 lbs. of cheese I had asked for, but there was some trouble with the payment because the receipt left wasn't actually a bill, and was written to me rather than the hotel. Luckily, my secret weapon was waiting in the car- Matt came into the house and spoke with the accountant on the phone while I made the smallest of talks with the mother (German descent, age est. 76).  yada yada yada...


about two and a half hours later, the cheese was resting in my refrigerator, ready to head to Jicaro with me on the morning boat!

an artsy shot of Matt and Laura enjoying dinner at Jicaro the day after our Managua shopping excursion, possibly chowing down on some organic cheeses!