Well. I see that this is my 100th post on this blog - shouldn't I get a prize?

Tuesday’s trip to Hermosillo went beautifully. I tagged along with Roger and Chantal when they went to pick up Terry, Roger’s nephew. We did some shopping on the way home, and I am now the proud owner of my very own, brand-spanking-new Oster three-speed blender with a glass carafe and even a separate little plastic jar that fits onto the mechanism and serves some purpose I have yet to discover. It has a lid, so whatever I’m supposed to chop up in it, I guess I’m supposed to store it in there too. I’ll ask around. Maybe it’s for making baby food.

Neither Chantal nor I wanted to cook that night, so we went to dinner at Toro's, the restaurant at the Best Western - almost next door. Their specialty is called a molcajete, which means a mortar. (I bought one last year for grinding spices., and posted a picture of it on the March 11, 2007 entry. At the time, I thought it was a metate, but I was wrong.)

So anyway, last night I ordered molcajete con pollo, which turned out to be slices of chicken breast and cactus (nopale), green onions, and queso fresco - all baked in and served in a molcajete with a perfectly delicious sauce. There were tortillas - both corn and flour - to go with it. The cheese must be put in at the last minute, because it was hot, but it was just beginning to melt. The molcajete, which was still piping hot from the oven, was presented on a tray, which was just as well. The onions etc. were draped over the edge of the molcajete, and the sauce had a regrettable tendency to lap over the edge as well. In all it was a messy experience, but I plan to go do it all over again - maybe I'll get the shrimp molcajete next time, and wear a bib. Absolutely fantastic. And I learned that I can cook in my molcajete!

I almost forgot to mention - I decided I liked Terry when he talked about people in certain hill country of his acquaintance. He said, "There's folks down there that can look through a keyhole with both eyes!" I think that was when the molcajete got really messy.

Terry has never been here before, so the last couple of days have been devoted to giving him a crash course in the scenery, shopping, and night life of San Carlos – including a trip today into Guaymas, lunch at our favourite taqueria, and a trip home on the local bus. Chantal and I are used to those bus trips by now, but Terry’s knuckles were a little bit white. He was a very good sport, though.

Yesterday, we all went to the estuary and walked on the beach. I think the guys are going to take the kayaks over to there tomorrow. Tonight, we barbecued burgers and sat outside, watching the day end. Terry had brought his guitar, so we had a little concert. Now he and Roger have gone to Bananas, a bar down the street, to have a drink and hear a band. I decided I’d had enough for the day, so I’ve stayed behind, and as it turns out, Robin and Chantal are also feeling done in, so it’s a quiet evening in both our houses.