Mission accomplished–tomorrow, we ascend our reason for being here, the towering Volcan Villaricca, Pucon’s majestic landmark–it’s time to fulfill the other half of our daily food-and-shelter conundrum.
Across the street from our sweet digs just happen to live a verdulerìa and supermercado, total perfection for someone equipped with refrigerator, stove, and a love of home-cooking.
In to veggie and fruit market we go, abundance of choclo and piñones and manzans and piñas and uvas and morrones and pepinos and more, a colorful palette of diversity and farmfreshness to make those living off convenience food salivate, this spread of so-called people’s food the stuff of kings, two day’s worth of greenery for CP$11,000.
Shopping for provisions like yesteryear, veggies here, bread there, we nevertheless must enter the supermercado to round out plans for a steak dinner, and somehow, exit with a bill to shame the verdelurìa–CP$15,000.
Hunting and gathering for our nightly meal makes me miss my garden. I yearn for a return to fresh-food living, daydreams of rows and rows of new veggies to import and plant, bringing this round-the-world voyage home to a patch of dirt, immortalized on our dinner plate.
For tonight, though, we content ourselves with a feast: fajita dinner galore.