This afternoon Manuel, an employee of my landlord Sr. Monsreal, and I took turns climbing the ladder to harvest the coconuts from the tree in the front yard. We got about thirty.
Manuel, Joel, and I decided that Monday evening we will have a Pina Colada party on the patio. Armando, my 88 year old neighbor, said he may also attend. We settled on Monday as Joel has to play in the symphony tomorrow night and Sunday and didn’t want the Pina Coladas affecting his trombone playing. So Monday I will make coconut milk and crank up the blender.
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3 comments:
Wikipedia for scientific stuff is an excellent source usually (becaue people correct it until it gets there), but with politics people have more of an incentives to lie.
DB
So how were the Pina Coladas?
The Pina Coladas were great. As it turned out, though the coconuts are not mature and Manuel did not show up. I made the drinks from coconut milk I bought, crushed pineapple, a fruit I bought at the market but don't know its name, rum, and ice mixed in the blender. It was a very sweet slushy concoction.
Joel, who played in concerts Friday evening, Saturday in another City, and Sunday and I think was ready to cut loose a bit, and I sat on the patio, drank, ate sweet snacks he brought, chips and salsa I brought, listened to Cuban music, and talked politics of the U. S., Spain, and Latin America. Joel informed me that in Spain when drinking hard liquor one eats sweet snacks, and eats chips when drinking wine. I assured him that, as far as I was concerned, every type of food goes with every type of alcoholic libation. Rusty, Joel's dog, provided the entertainment.
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