Manjar

It wasn’t early; we were running late by our current standards.

The other girls biked off into the distance.

My chest squeezed a bit with the thought of being without them and their decision-making skills. I questioned briefly if I was actually prepared to travel without them. Five months with very little separation has left me a bit dependent.

The remaining two sat down to breakfast.

I drank my tea and chewed my bread slowly, contemplating the prospects of the coming week or two. I thought about the road ahead, the increase in probability of getting my way and the things I’d like to accomplish in our time apart.

We loaded our trailers and paniers and started our way down the road.

It was a chilly, overcast morning; I started the day in pants and wool.

Slowly the sky cleared and the last remnants of fluff melted away with the afternoon sun.

An apiary on our right beckoned. We stopped for honey and our now traditional lunch of bread, cheese, cucumber, mustard and for me, ½ palta, sandwich.

Extra energy afforded by spoonfuls of ulmo honey propelled us the remainder of the way around the corner of Lago Llanquihue.

As we arrived in Las Cascadas, we stopped at the first camping spot we saw.

$5000 (Chilean pesos, that is) por las dos. Done.

We set up our tent and made our way down the main street where we found a verdulería and a panadería.

The first was a plain white house with three small signs alerting us that we had in fact found frutas, verduras and mermeladas. We bought the items for dinner. La dueña (owner) insisted we try her frambuesa mermelada.

I opted instead for the frutilla kuchen prepared in her wood fired oven.

The cake baked only so long that golden barely graced the creamy top.

I didn’t wait for dinner to enjoy my dessert.

I may have finished it before we paid for our vegetables.

Over dinner we concluded we were staying an extra day. The town was small, the people were friendly and the sun shone bright in the afternoons.

The following day we made our way to the waterfall for which I assume Las Cascadas was named.

The waterfall was beautiful but what made it worth the trip was the woman on the right side of the little dirt road with a small kiosk full of galletas, mermeladas and licores. Without thought, we had left our money behind, but I told her I’d return.

We made our way to the cascadas and then back home. I picked up my bike and rode right back down that dirt road. She saw me coming and met me in the kiosk.

“Has regresado!”

(You've returned!)

I purchased galletas surtidas, chocolate alfajores, and classic alfajores like the ones I described before.

These were rolled in coconut, a note I failed to mention the first time around.

I ate one of each as I walked away.

I saved the alfajor for last, hoping I wouldn’t be disappointed.

Alas, it was perfect.

I stood there with my bike in my hand. I knew she was still there. I turned around and walked back.

“Permiso? Quisiera saber como preparar alfajores. Usted puede decirme?”

(Excuse me? I would like to know how to make alfajores, could you tell me?)

I wish I could tell you I had a pen and paper on hand to take down the recipe.

“Ah! Y, la manjar? Usted compra la manjar?"

(Ah! And the dulce de leche? You buy the dulce de leche?)

“No!”

“O, usted hace la manjar de leche condensada?”

(O, you make the dulce de leche from condensed milk?)

“O, no!”

I’m sure she say my confusion.

“Es possible que usted puede decirme comó preparar manjar?”

(Is it possible that you could tell me how to make manjar?)

Warm 1 L of milk until nearly boiling

Add 1 Tbs of cream

Reduce heat significantly and add 400 grams of sugar, stir continuously until dissolved.

Add 1 TBS butter

Stir frequently for six hours [or until you have the consistency of something like nutella]

I haven't tried it myself, but I'll let you know when I do.