#2982, Thursday, February 9, 2023: Cuenca says, "Welcome back!"

Post 2982

- 13 years and 40 days since I started this blog -

The author at 'work,' February 9, 2023

Journal

(written February 8-9, 2023)

Read this once (it won't change for the rest of the trip(s): I'll be linking this post to Facebook. If that's how you got here, here's some background: About 12 years ago I started this blog as a food journal. I had a medical situation and needed to lose weight. Initially, that's all I did here: Journal my food intake and my weight. It contributed to helping me lose 20+% of my body weight in 6 months, and continuing has kept me on track since then. I started adding commentary after a while, but lately it has become infrequent. 

While I'm traveling, I let go of the weight-tracking and food journaling, except for food shots when I've eaten something interesting or pretty. And that's where we find ourselves now.

I left Oaxaca on February 1 for LA, where I spent about forty hours to celebrate my son Alex's and my birthdays, which are eight days apart. February 2nd being the exact midpoint.

I left LA for Cuenca at one in the morning, with a transfer in Panama City long enough for me to pick up a 1.5-liter bottle of Jamerson's Irish Whiskey as a gift for my favorite barista here, a promise I had made a year ago, when I was here last.

I landed at Guayaquil, and took a three-hour drive up into the Andes (way up, I think topping out at around 12,000 feet) before descending to Cuenca's 10,400-foot elevated valley.

I found my AirBnB place pretty quickly, and was let in by the host's mother, who with great humor, little English, and a somewhat contradictory all-business attitude showed me into a really beautiful room, and gave me a tour of the amenities of the shared common area. 

The only time I have had a nicer AirBnB to stay in was when I snagged a pool-house in LA. But that didn't have a full and furnished balcony overlooking the Carnaval parade route.

Looking down and across (to pic), to the West and East (middle and bottom pic) )on Calle Simón Bólivar from the 3rd-floor balcony of my AirBnB.

And, the view from the terrace at night.

Getting here, to Cuenca, was the easiest it's ever been. The flights from LA to Panama to Guayaquil, Ecuador were all smooth and on-time. Forty-five minutes after stepping off my plane I had cleared customs, taken a $2 cab to the MiniBus depot, gotten my ticket with a Tres Edad discount, and was on my way up and over the Andes. 

I made the best time ever on that trip, and beat my best-time estimate for arriving at my AirBnB by twenty minutes.

Walking around Cuenca feels both old and new. I still haven't gotten over the novelty of pain-free walking. That's new. But I've walked these streets before, I'm not in a new-to-me neighborhood.

Cuenca's 8,400-foot elevation is something I've learned not to trifle with. Although I feel better in every way, it  still takes a couple of days to acclimate, and, although this year is better than last in that way, (last year I came down with Covid before I was fully acclimated) It still took me three days to not get exhausted with every effort.

Now for walking around shots: 

This installation, on the most famous of bridges across rio Tomebamba, memorializes the victims of femicide, with the names of thousands of murdered women written in purple on the white borders. It is beautiful and effective at increasing awareness of this global problem.

In general, I don't travel with an agenda. Nothing I'm looking to sell, no non-consumable objects to buy. No specific plans. I do have some things I always like to do, non-travel-specific: Play music, make friends. That's me, everywhere.

After getting a good night's sleep in a very comfortable bed, I met up with my friend from Connecticut, Anthony, and my best Cuencano friend and benefactor, world-class chef, and angel-class human Felipe. They had been hanging out for two weeks before I got into town. They arrived at the exact same time to meet me and check out my new pad, which they liked.

And off we went. 

Three amigos. And food. Felipe (center), is not only a great culinary artist, he is a wonderful mix of virtues, including being a Spanish teacher, a humanitarian, a cultural ambassador and a wonderful guide to many things Cuenca that are unknown to tourists and casual visitors. For instance, he took us to this tiny shop right at the market at Parque San Francisco.

Along the border of Parque San Francisco, a tiny stall in the midst of tiny stalls conceals the entrance to a huge multi-floor, multi-room department store of Ecuadorian and Cuencano artisanal goods. From Ecuadorian chocolate, to clothes, to craft goods, toys, architectural objects, art, and a half dozen things I can't think of now, visiting this store was an amazing experience that included getting wet-faced via a five-year old's water gun. He was laying in wait for us, squirting his gun from the balcony above us. The photo above is from his sniper lair.

Anthony explaining things to me, which he does a lot, behind Cuenca's famous three-domed New Cathedral.

One of the first things I do when I get to Cuenca is make a reservation with my dear friends Orly and Julia, the married couple who are chef and hostess and proprietors of Capitán, my favorite seafood place in the world. We keep up with each other on social media, in between my visits to Cuenca. 

Our mutual admiration started up on my first visit there in 2018, when the restaaurant was a third of the size it is now. I showed up on my second-ever evening in Cuenca, and they found seating for me in their crowded 16-person-capacity restaurant. I was knocked out by their charm, as much as the excellent meal.  By the time I was done eating, I was alone in the restaurant. 

I asked, and got permission, to take down the nylon-stringed guitar hanging on the wall, and proceeded to serenade them as a way of thanking them for making a place for me to enjoy Orly's excellent way with fish. Keep your snark to yourselves, they really enjoyed it. 

Ever since, I've been a special guest. I've celebrated two birthdays there (not this year's, exactly), and introduced dozens of Cuencanos, expats and visitors like myself to the restaurant. This is what happened, as recorded by Julia, when Orly heard I'd arrived at the restaurant:

Orly came running from the kitchen and almost knocked me over with his enthusiastic greeting - that's not just photography, he was a blur of action!

The women of Capitán. Denise, my server, above, and Julia, Orly's wife and my hostess and dear friend.

This is what happens when you tell Julia you're celebrating a birthday. In this case, my son Alex's. They knew I'd celebrated my birthday a week ago, and they felt a little betrayed. So, they celebrated Alex's with me, making a Feliz Cumpleaños video we sent him on the spot (while it was still his birthday). That's what good friends do.

Another friend and purveyor of fine things is Diego, of Sinfonia Tostadura y Cafeteria, where four years ago I was served the best cup of coffee I ever had, or have had since. It turns out, that cuppa was a one-off, made from a sample batch of beans that the grower could not deliver in quantity with acceptable quality.   

Nonetheless, I don't know where to get a better quality cup of Joe in Cuenca, or anywhere else. 

Last year, Diego added Irish coffee to the menu. I was disappointed to learn that it was a flavor, containing no alcohol, although the syrup was, admittedly, made entirely in-house. I asked if he had any Irish whiskey, or even Bailey's, to add (like In'n'Out's 'secret menu'). Nope.

I promised to bring him a bottle of Jameson's on my next visit.

One 2-Liter bottle of Jameson's, delivered. I try and be a good friend, because I have the best friends. 

And, after multiple unsuccessful (too late at night) attempts, I met up with best friend Betsy, manager of Balcón de Artiste, a hotel I've stayed at several times (also where I met Anthony, see above). Betsy helped me with several serious problems beginning on her very first day of work there (coinciding with the first day of my second stay at Balcón). She is super-sweet and very competent. What a combination.

Betsy and the beast.

So, I'm having breakfast with my friend Peter, an excellent guitar-and-vocals performer I met in Cuenca about 3 years ago at Café Ñucallacta, my favorite place to write, and the place that makes my favorite restaurant-made oatmeal (no, seriously, except for what I make for myself, this is the best oatmeal I've had, although it doesn't photograph well). Less than five minutes after Peter leaves, the entertainment arrives, and I'm telling you, it was very good. The vocals, by the woman and basso guitarron player (left), were insanely good!  

Finally, got back together with my expat friend, Bela. Since I saw him last, he's moved from Cuenca to Vilcabamba, a famous mountain town near Loja (the nearest city) between Cuenca and Quito. We met at Bistro Yaku, where we first met at the open mic last year. I played late, and by then, there weren't any guitarists around to accompany me, so I stepped 'way out of my comfort zone (not so far out, though, that I hadn't done it before) and did a set singing with only my bass as accompaniment. I don't know how I sounded, really, but nobody walked out, and I really needed to play.

So happy to be with lots of musician friends. And the music was incredible last night. Stellar vocalists and my bass-playing friend Manu, the host of the evening, gave one of the best bass performances I've ever seen, with solo bass accompaniment to the wonderful, wonderful singers. His jazz stylings and sense of timing have either dramatically improved in a year, or I wasn't seeing this side of him last year. A really memorable night.

This is, to me, the way it should be: Friends and music. And good food. And drinks. And pot. And music. And friends.

Food Comment

Pastrami, eggs, and cheese on sourdough from Sinfonía - I was skeptical, but somebody in the meat department knows what they're doing.

At Capitán, salmon with prawns in blackberry wine sauce with sweet potatoes and sauteéd veggies.

At Café San Sebas, an al fresco serving of eggs and smoked salmon. One of my favorite breakfasts. The multigrain bread is excellent and always fresh, and, although I'm not much into white potatoes generally, these are quite delicious. I don't know what seasonings they use, but there are never any leftovers.

So, there's not much in this picture of Bistro Yaku's tabbouleh salad (in this instance, Ecuador-ized by using quinoa instead of buckwheat and adding black beans and corn) to give you a sense of scale, but the eccentric-shaped bowl was huge, making this portion look a lot smaller than it was. This photo is here because I was impressed with the presentation.

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