Horchata Makin Machine

I think my brain is melting. I’ve done a number of really questionable things in the last few days, and I think its time to whip out my New York Times crossword puzzle book and get crackin’.

One such episode occurred yesterday when I discovered that my bag of rice was infested with tiny, brown ants. The ants were inside the bag and I thought the perfect solution would be to rinse the rice and agitate so the ants would float to the top. Smart, right? WRONG, unless I was going to eat three lbs of rice. Sandra pointed out that once the rice is wet, it would never keep. Thanks, Sandra, but you’re two lbs too late. So, I cooked two pounds of rice. Ef. Amy -1, Honduras 0.




















And as if my ego were superman and could handle one more blow, I realized far too late that sticking four quartered limes into my Nalgene was a bad idea. It was time to wash it out, and no matter how much I shook those limes were staying inside. Amy -2, Honduras 0.

It’s a good thing I live in a village with a bunch of kids who have techniques for ant rice and a lot of free time on their hands to tackle projects such as lime-Nalgenes. Here is what I learned from Adolfo and David...

Ant-rice: Put dry rice into a pot on the stove and turn on the heat. The heat will scare the ants upward. Pour rice into another pot and place over heat. Wash ants from first pot down the drain. Repeat until ants are all gone!

Lime-Nalgene: Try a fork. If that doesn't work, try a knife. And if that doesn't work, try scissors. Then tweezers. Recruit your friends! Here's a montage...

There was success! And as a reward for helping me both with ant-rice and lime-Nalgene, I gave the boys some of the 2 pounds of cooked rice I made and mixed it with some crema, tomato sauce, and oregano. They said it was good. I don't believe them.

Not all is bad in the cuenca. Good things happen too, like learning how to make homemade horchata via the tutelage of Maria, the hippest woman in the cuena. By far. Horchata is spiced rice milk and is very popular is Mexico, Spain, and few Latin American countries. Because Maria’s recipe has been passed down over generations (even her nephew, pictured below, helped), it is really special and really delicious. 

Here’s what you need for a lotta Horchata (Haha, I make myself laugh):

2 lb of rice

½ lb of peanuts

½ lb of pumpkin seeds

¼ lb of morro seeds (beats the hell out of me)

8 cinnamon sticks

First, we washed the rice. Very important. (Especially if it’s ant-infested.) Then we roasted the peanuts on the “stove top” until they smelled divine. We did this for all of the nuts, roasting each batch separately, but combining the moro and cinnamon. 

After each batch was roasted, they were combined with the rice and just enough water to create a sticky batter. 

The batter was then put through an old-fashioned grinder to create a deliciously nutty paste. This step took five people 45 minutes to do. It would take hours for one person to grind the whole batch because it was HARD work. I’m still sore. (Really.)

To make the horchata, you combine the paste with cold water and then sweeten to taste. You add enough paste so that it dissolves in the water. If you’ve got some floaties, add more water! Yummmmm.

Mosquito Bites: 1
Final Score: Amy -2, Honduras 0