Friendship and Desserts

Of late I have taken an interest in making (and of course eating) desserts.  I find that baking, as well as cooking in general, relaxes me.  I also enjoy sharing what I make with others- it’s like spreading edible joy!  Last week, for example, I brought chocolate chip cookies to El Arca, and each of the three times I have made cookies, I have shared them with my housemates. 

I look at the ingredients I have as though they were a painter’s palette, and I allow my creativity to run wild.  Most of the time, the results are successful, or at least edible.  But, mortal human being that I am, I do make mistakes occasionally. 

Today, which was one of my “dias francos” (my days off- I still don’t understand the origin of this expression), I devoted the afternoon to baking cookies a la Lisa and, simultaneously (maybe not so wise) making “arroz con leche” (rice with milk/rice pudding).  I had been inspired to try making arroz con leche by one of my housemates, who happens to be one of the sweetest ladies I have ever met. 

Her name is Maria, and she is a 60-something year old Chilean who has lived in Argentina for the past 25 years.  Maria is in the habit of surprising me with little desserts (I fully support this habit).  The first time, she gave me peaches with yogurt.  The next time, she knew I had a sore throat so she gave me honey and instructed me to add it to warm milk.  It was sooo delicious!  She reminded me that the Bible talks about the promised land flowing with milk and honey, so it should be no surprise that the combination is so heavenly.  Earlier this week, she gave me some arroz con leche and explained to me how she made it. 

In addition to teaching me how to make the dessert, Maria helped me to solve a mystery!  I had heard people at El Arca singing a nursery rhyme, and I could decipher all of the lyrics except for the first few words.  It turns out that the first few words are “arroz con leche!”  Maria told me that she associates the song and the dessert with each other.  Here are the lyrics:

Arroz con leche (Rice with milk)

Me quiero casar (I want to get married)

Con una señorita de San Nicolas (to a young lady from San Nicolas)

Que sepa coser, que sepa bordar (who knows how to sew, who knows how to embroider)

Que sepa abrir la puerta para ir a jugar (who knows how to open the door to go out and play)

Con esta si, con esa no (to this one yes, to that one no)

Con esta señorita me caso yo (I am getting married to this young lady)

Anyway, making “arroz con leche” seemed relatively simple to me, so today I decided that I would make some and surprise Maria! 

I had considered searching for a recipe on the internet, but the internet wasn’t working, so I relied on intuition, guessing, and my memory of what Maria had said.  I cooked the rice first with just water and then added milk when the rice had absorbed most of the water.  I managed to achieve a lovely pudding-like texture, but I erred when it came to the cinnamon and sugar.  Maria uses cinnamon sticks, but I could only find cinnamon powder, so I added either a half or a full teaspoon (I can’t remember now) to the cooking rice.  This turned out to be waaaay too much.  I also added too much sugar.  The initial amount I added would have been fine, but when I decided to casually pour a little more in, a lot came out, both into the pot and onto the floor. 

The end product was edible, but too cinnamony-sweet.  Sadly, Maria could not eat the portion I offered her because her delicate digestive system cannot handle the cinnamon. But it’s the thought that counts- she seemed delighted even though she couldn’t eat it.  She also gave me a dessert of her own!  This time, it was jello with yogurt- a combination I never would have thought of myself, but it was quite refreshing!

So, as you can see, Maria and I have been developing a special friendship through little gifts.  When she was really sick a couple of weeks ago, I gave her a flower and a card.  A few days ago, she gave me a copy of “La Casa de los Espiritus” (The House of the Spirits) by Chilean author Isabel Allende to borrow after a conversation we had about literature.  

As Maria makes her way down the road to recovery, I have unlocked the gate for many visitors who have come to talk with her and cook for her.  The other day she told me that it was a blessing from God that I was there to unlock the gate for her visitors.  Her comment surprised me because to me, the act of opening the door seemed so simple.  But it’s true that if the director isn’t around, visitors risk not being attended to, especially if the person they are visiting is bed-ridden. 

This realization that a seemingly simple and small action can have a big impact encourages me.  I sometimes feel overwhelmed by the poverty and other injustices I have witnessed here, powerless to help.  But as Maria suggests, even if I can’t solve the world’s problems, I can at least make a positive difference in a few people’s lives.