Eating in Canarias, Part 1: Home Cookin’

Happy Friday! I am sitting on the roof of my apartment building, listening to waves crashing against the shore as my laundry spins in the washing machine. I spend a lot of time up here, taking my time arranging my clothes on the drying racks while scanning the water for dolphins. On normal laundry days, I’m zipping up and down the four flights of stairs to do other chores between cycles, but today, I’ve been forcibly sidelined by a sprained ankle. So I hauled my laptop up to the roof and am here to write about what really matters: Canarian food. 

the view from up top

When I found out I’d be in Canarias, one of my first Google searches was, of course, “Canary Islands cuisine”. I was initially a little sad that the famed Spanish tapas didn’t seem to have a strong presence in the islands, but was very quickly appeased by the mention of cheese, fresh avocados, papayas, and cilantro, as well as the incorporation of almond (one of my all-time favorite flavors) in many desserts. It was still hard to get a grasp on platos típicos and general themes, however, as every website said something different and many descriptions were written by tourists and highly subjective. The one thing everyone mentioned but failed to really describe was something called gofio. Every so often in my ocean of pre-departure panic, “what if I don’t make any friends?!” and “do I actually know how to speak Spanish?” would be replaced by “What the hell is gofio?” (to be explained in future post)

Bananas are also everywhere!

Before leaving the States, I remember having a conversation with my best friend Elizabeth about cooking for myself in a foreign country and the kinds of things I thought I’d eat. I wondered aloud about whether or not I’d gain weight. “Oh, I bet you’ll lose weight”, she said. I agreed, picturing myself wandering around in the sand hungry and barefoot, fueled exclusively by fruit. How wrong I was!! The food I have eaten since arriving on La Gomera is some of the best I’ve ever had. When I video chat with my mom, she often says “you look like a cream-fed cat!” Well, I feel like one, too. I’ve had so many satisfying meals, both in restaurants and in my very own kitchen. In this first food post, I’ll talk about how my home cooking has translated over here, and in the next, I’ll dive into what other people have fed me. 

In comparison with the US, grocery shopping here is cheap and efficient, and I’ve been able to find a lot of surprising ingredients I never thought would be available on this little rock. German ex-pats have opened up many markets with imported goods, and there’s even an Italian specialty store owned by my new friend Nando who gave me free wine for the chicken marsala recipe I wanted to try. Sure, a single head of broccoli may only appear in stores roughly once a month, but there are plenty of other more exciting things to try. Predictably, I’m hooked on the avocados, and am also currently heavily dependent on my daily kaki, which is an (imported but fantastic) variety of persimmon. I was hesitant at first, used to the little wrinkly Ohio winter variety, but my mom gave me so much persimmon envy that I had to go for it. Most days during my walk home from school, I stop in the frutería and pick up whatever looks good. The owner now loves to feign surprise when I plop three kakis on the counter, and sometimes throws in a little almond candy for me to try. I love it here. 

A typical frutería haul: a kaki, an avocado, an almond candy, and... shallots?!

Grocery shopping is always something I look forward to doing here in Valle Gran Rey. The one chain grocery store, SPAR, has two locations in town, and I go there for all of my staples. I’m now a recognized community member (as opposed to a tourist passing through), which means that the guy at check out greets me with “¿Cómo estás, mi amor?”, and my friend at the meat counter always says “¡Hola, preciosa!” Our friendship started the first time I did a big shop, after I apologized for staring at the selection for ~10 minutes without speaking. I told him I was utterly unprepared for shopping in Spain after a lifetime of buying prepackaged meats in the US and largely ignoring the metric system. Of course, he was incredibly patient and gave me suggestions on what to buy and how to cook it. Now, when I’m having a bad or lonely day, I go talk to him and buy something new to try. To top it all off, meat is blessedly cheap here, and cooking just two recipes can feed me all week. 

I’ve never considered myself an intensely creative person in the generic sense of the word. When presented with a blank canvas, I totally freeze up. My little brother, on the other hand, can come up with a character, scene, or comic strip off the top of his head and fill the page with color and humor. He clearly got the artist genes. However, over the past few years, I’ve realized I can be creative as long as I have some sort of constraint. If I’m at point A and need to get to point B, but can choose my own route, I’m thrilled. Thus, cooking here is a challenge I very much enjoy. I find recipes online knowing that I won’t be able to follow them exactly, but put my all into recreating them to the best of my ability using the resources I have here. Innovative is what I think they call it! 

This is where the magic happens

My biggest constraint in cooking here is that I do not have an oven. Or a microwave! Just one 2-pot electric stovetop. When I put my big sauté pan on, nothing else fits. But I’ve managed just fine, and am now very skilled in the art of reheating leftovers on the stovetop. In the past month, I’ve cooked cilantro lime pork chops (Iberian pork is truly unrivaled), steak fajitas with black beans, Thai coconut chicken soup, broccoli with fried shallots and olives (pounced on the broc when I saw it), pork ragout, mango sticky rice, and chicken marsala. While these aren’t Spanish dishes, I do try to select recipes that put Spanish/local ingredients in the spotlight. More recipes will come with time! Each meal has been surprisingly successful, but I also think my pride is the world’s finest seasoning that can mask almost any error or ingredient shortcoming. But hey—I’ve had a few guests and think they came away happy. 

My biggest cooking feat thus far: Thanksgiving! Yesterday, I ran that little electric stovetop into the ground making a four point menu. Up until about a week ago, I wasn’t planning on anything special—I’d go out to eat with the teachers and just be quietly thankful in my head. But then I thought about my dad’s mashed potatoes. And realized I didn’t need an oven to make them. Then I mentioned mashed potatoes aloud to my favorite Gomeran, Oscar. And he said he’d like to try them. Aaaaaand then I decided I’d just do the damn thing! 

I wasn’t expecting to find turkey here, but lo and behold, when I went shopping on Wednesday, SPAR had one fresh turkey breast. I found a stovetop recipe with fresh herbs and sautéed vegetables that seemed doable. I also bought a ton of potatoes, re-upped my butter supply, and grabbed some green beans to stir fry in garlic and soy sauce in my mom’s style. I was fretting over dessert until I realized that I had all the ingredients for the beloved grapefruit (+ avocado + pomegranate + honey + lime) salad my mom and I make each winter. Yesterday, I cooked for ~5 hours, and finally invited Oscar over at a quarter past 10 pm (had to make it a little Spanish, ya know?). I think everything tasted quite good (my guest said it was buenísimo), but really, I was just deliriously happy to have pulled off a Thanksgiving meal given the constraints and to be sharing it with someone who has made this place feel like home. 

well would you look at that... I'm a teacher

Alright, alright... It's time to talk about the real action! 

So. I got a month deep before receiving an official schedule at my school, meaning that my introduction to formal teaching was wild, unpredictable, and wonderful. The one native English speaker in the school (who is the 5th and 6th year teacher and also happens to be the bilingual coordinator) was on maternity leave for the first month, and her substitute did not speak English. We’re still missing a permanent teacher for 1st and 2nd year, and the guy filling in had never taught before and also did not sign up to teach English!! This meant that I immediately had a much larger role in the classroom than I had been expecting. Though it was very stressful to be thrown off the deep end with admittedly very little prior experience, I think it was the best thing for the development of my confidence and my bonds with my students. Instead of someone who just sits in the back and observes, I think they see me as more of a legitimate teacher, and our mutual respect has grown markedly. 

unexpected/unexplained double half rainbow seen during my walk to work

As everyone who survived an elementary education probably knows, teaching is rarely glamorous. I was a member of an elementary school class with a bad reputation, and now I really feel the pain of our poor teachers who tried everything to maintain order. Even as an empathetic teacher’s pet, you don’t realize how frustrating it is to be in a chaotic classroom until you’re legitimately in their shoes, trying to get a point across. Some kids are listening intently, others are quiet but in their own little worlds, and still others are fighting, yelling, and running around. I’ve had a few tear-my-hair-out moments, compounded by the fact that my younger students do not understand me at all when I’m asking them to behave. In order to encourage English use, they are not supposed to know that I speak or even understand Spanish, which I have found to be a debatable teaching strategy in general. In terms of behavioral policing, “please be quiet!” just doesn’t have the same effect as a biting “si quieren, CALLAR!!!”

Of course, some classes are more challenging than others, and a lot depends on the time of day. For example, my 1st year students (~6 year olds) are baby angels first thing in the morning, but would drive nearly anyone to drink in the last hour of the day. Regardless of the hour, I’ve had a particularly challenging time with my 2nd year class, which has about four ~difficult~ students whereas other groups have just one or two. Yesterday was actually the first time I felt like we had a slight breakthrough—their behavior was a little bit better and the majority demonstrated a good grasp on the vocabulary we’ve been building over the past month.

Recently, in my younger classes, I’ve tried taking students aside during free moments for one-on-one conversations on the balcony. This has helped both parties exponentially. For one, I can quickly gauge levels of understanding and see what content each student hasn’t grasped yet. I can also personalize our relationship a little bit more—rather than just being the talking head at the front of the class, I can ask questions specific to the student and make them laugh. I also cheat a little bit and throw in some Spanish if I know they’re not understanding me, which I think humanizes me more in their minds. Finally, at the end of our conversations, I like to elicit a pinky-promise from my more challenging students that they will behave and listen to me. The success rate isn’t 100%, but things are a hell of a lot better than they were when we started. 

me being a very relatable human teacher fending off a sneeze next to a cactus

Luckily, for every frustrating/difficult moment, I can count five moments that made my heart feel fit to burst. Some students latched onto me immediately, particularly those who already speak English quite well. Others were on board after about a week. The ones that really get me, though, are those who open up after we speak one-on-one. The other day, I spoke to a girl in 2nd year who routinely shut down and glared at me when I called on her in class or tried to nudge her in the right direction on worksheets. Out on the balcony, we spoke about her Hello Kitty earrings, her family in Germany, and her pretty dress. Part way through the conversation, she put her hands on my knees as she was talking. When I walked into the classroom the next day, she ran up and gave me a big hug for the first time. 

I’ve noticed that my students generally demonstrate trust through physical gestures like these. The most engaged and open kids give me hugs and high fives every day. When I kneel down to talk to students at their desks, they’ll often lay their hands on mine while they ask a question. My most endearing example came one day when I pulled out Sergio, one of my most entertaining 1st year students. As one of the smallest and youngest of the bunch, Sergio routinely melts my heart but couldn’t give less of a damn about English. His focus in class is non-existent. He knows I’m not supposed to be able to understand Spanish, but rambles on at length to me anyway in the most adorable squeaky voice. On the first day, when my co-teacher Roboam asked the class to draw a picture of the two of us, Sergio drew a penguin. “Penguin” happens to be the only English word I have successfully taught him. I noticed one day that he was struggling with a worksheet on colors, so I pulled him out onto the balcony for a chat. As we slowly worked through the sheet, he climbed onto my lap and tucked his head under my chin, displaying physical trust for the first time. To say I melted would be an understatement. Now, when we do group activities like meditation or dancing, he plants himself directly in front of me and won’t budge. 

To help reinforce the vocab we've been building, I had the kids come up to the board to draw a random animal with a random number of one body part (i.e. A Shark With Six Eyes), as dictated by me. Here, the master himself works on a Penguin With Five Legs. 

During the first-day portrait drawing activity mentioned above, I also came to know Enzo, one of my true standout students. Earlier in the day, I prompted him to count to 10 with me in English. He didn’t take a full breath until he’d reached 50, so I knew something good was up with this kid. As I was walking around to see the drawings of Roboam + Phoebe, Enzo’s caught my eye:

For comparison, here’s what I looked like that day: 

My current aesthetic is basically just to look like I google image searched "teacher" and dressed like what popped up

It’s important to note that this 6-year old captured every detail of our appearances—the colors and designs of our clothes, my blue eyes, my (slight but exaggerated) height advantage over Rob, his beard and arm/leg hair, and my freckles. I was blown away, and sure enough, Enzo has continued to amaze me. He speaks to me only in English, and I can see his little gears turning as he chews over a question and thinks up an answer. He also spelled CHAMPION and PINEAPPLE yesterday without my help. If I had to make a list of Things I’d Look Into If Given A Crystal Ball, Enzo’s future would be top 10. 

One more little thing I’ve noticed about these kids that has captured my heart is what they do when left to their own devices. There are individually charming behaviors, of course—for example, I have one first grade student who loves to look at himself in the mirror. I always catch him turned around in his seat, smiling at his reflection. But what really gets me is what happens when I turn the class loose on a creative activity like drawing. Many students talk to their neighbors and run around to borrow colors, and the ambient noise inevitably builds. The majority of the sound, however, is singing. It stopped me in my tracks on the first day—at least half of the students in the classroom were immersed in their artwork and singing their own special songs. This wasn’t an isolated event, either—idle musicality just seems to be the thing here. Maybe my teacher friends in the United States have noticed something similar—either way, it’s so precious. Equally entertaining but maybe less precious was when I asked my second grade students to sing me a song on the first day, and a group of boys gathered in a circle and chanted “DAME TU COSITA, UH UH” in the stylings of this video: 

But this is all just a regular day at school.

The view from the balconies