3.10.2009

The molienda... every dentist’s worst nightmare

What the eff is a molienda, right? And why aren't you talking about stuff I care about? Like softball equipment and stoves and computer classes for poor people and waterfalls and the recent, epic gringo visit?

Relax chief, we'll get to the good stuff. But only after the cultural stuff. Jeez. Eat your food, tina.

So a molienda, what is it and why don't we do it in the states? Well for starters, we don't harvest sugar cane. We pay other countries to do it for us. But it turns out, we're the ones missing out.

The molienda is sort of like a community get together, centered around a giant boiling pot of sugar cane juice. The molienda owners cook the juice over a wood fire for what seems like 20 hours but is closer to 6 and as the night progresses people eat the cane juice as it changes from juice to honey to foam to caramel, which they pour into pans and whip up with wooden spoons until it hardens into little blobs of sugary goodness, called batidos.

Each molienda is put on by a few community members who harvest sugar cane. They alternate nights, until the cane runs out. Usually about 3 weeks or so.

I like it because it's a chance for everyone in the community to come together and just sorta chill. (Tell me again why I went house to house for months doing my census when I coulda just gone to the molienda a few times... Arg.) They stand around like awkward teenagers at a high school dance, everyone stealing glances, and gossiping or talking chambre. Good times.

Here are a few pics to give you a sense of what it's all about.

Step 1. Extract sugar cane juice. Starting at about 11 am, they run these oxen in circles for a bazillion hours. I said I could do it solo if they bought me a case of Raptor (think red bull but a flavor freakishly close to robutussin and waaay stronger). Anyway, they decided to go with the oxen. Pansies.



My buddy Lupe. Cool guy.



Step 2. Cook said juice in a giant pot for about 6 hours. Everyone takes turns stirring it up with the straining bucket contraption.





Step 3. Have everyone in your community come to watch said giant pot of sugar cane juice until it's cooked.



Somehow, one of the guys in charge magically knows the caramel's ready to be whipped up into batidos, so they pour it into the pans and everyone has a go. Afterwards people choose which ones turned out the best and pay a couple bucks for them.



It's really kind of a cool event and almost impossible for people to "get" unless they see it for themselves. Unfortunately, Chris, Chuck and Glen literally arrived the night after my community's sugar cane ran out, but maybe they'll catch next year's...

No comments:

Post a Comment