Ni Chac - A Yucatan Bourdain Moment

Have you ever had one of those moments where you feel just a tiny little bit like Anthony Bourdain? I had one, just last week.

It was on my latest twice a month pilgrimage to one of the local villages where my tour company has enlisted the services of families to provide meals for our guests when we tour them out that way. I had just finished unloading supplies from the trunk of my car when the lady of the house asked if I wanted to try something special.

“Acabamos de regresar del monte y recogimos estos” Marisela said. Monte is the word Yucatecans term for the local underbrush and scrub forest that covers much of the northern part of the dry, rocky peninsula. She held up a oval-shaped, flat panal which looked like a beehive except, she explained, this one was made by a particular kind of wasp. This wasp reproduces in the hive - these hang vertically from the trunks of trees - and the larvae, those white things sticking out of each of the little holes, are what one is after.

After carefully removing them from the trees, making sure not to get stung by any wasps flitting about and not breaking them, she and Leo, her husband, had put them in her plastic market bag aka her sabucan and brought them to the house. There, she lit a small fire in what is essentially a homemade barbeque grill and with the heat of the coals (no direct flame) she toasted the hives which loosens the larvae and these are pulled out, one by one and put in a bowl. And there they gather, in all their delicate, white, larva-y goodness in the bowl. A quick toasty trip across the heat of the comal, a hot metal griddle, to give them a golden, slightly crisped-around-the-edges look, and they are ready to eat. I should mention that the teen-aged boys charged with patiently picking out the larvae, their fingertips blackened from where the hive had been slightly charred, were popping them into their mouths like grapes.

Except these were most definitely not grapes.

Without overthinking it too much, I grabbed some between my thumb and forefinger, and popped about three of them into my mouth and chewed. To paraphrase a sommelier, the flavor was subtle with hints of nut, smoke and the texture was squishy between my teeth. I put the recurring thought of worms in my mouth out of my mind.

I swallowed.

Then it was time to savor the complete dish, with lime juice, tomato and onion - ceviche style - in fresh corn tortillas. It was a marvelous, simple meal. “Ni chac” said my hostess. This was the name of the dish and yes, it was something special that wasn’t available year-round. “Por las lluvias, hay muchos panales” added Leo, glancing up briefly from his work, indicating that the recent heavy rains had increased the number of hives in the monte.

While I ate, the parents, teenagers and even the littlest kids continued their work of removing the larvae from the hives and chatted in Mayan. I understood nothing except a word or two and when suddenly everyone erupted in laughter, I asked what was so funny. A family story. The ex-husband of one of the daughters, who had come to visit his children, had been offered this simple meal and had reacted angrily, claiming to be offended at having been offered such a lowly dish. They thought it was funny that the gringo was eating it while the other man had found it beneath him.

"People are generally proud of their food. A willingness to eat and drink with people without fear and prejudice… they open up to you in ways that somebody visiting who is driven by a story may not get." - Anthony Bourdain -

When someone offers you food, you accept it. With pleasure and with respect. As Bourdain pointed out, it is part of a bigger picture. And although I was not there looking for a story, it certainly brought me that much closer to the people I was sharing this food with.

On Despensas

One of the words you might see if you are researching on how to help here in Mexico, is the term “despensa”

"Despensa" literally means "pantry" and in Mexico when there is an emergency or when you are feeling charitable, like at Christmas, you give people a despensa. ONG’s and government agencies often hand out despensas to families in need and they can also be seen during political campaigns (although this is now illegal) to garner favor with recipients of the “generosity” But we won’t get into that here.

Typically a despensa is made up of basic foodstuffs, some hygiene and cleaning products, usually enough for a week for a small family of maybe four people or so.

This is what a typical despensa looks like, to help people get through the crisis at hand. Basic food stuffs like bouillion cubes, cooking oil, tomato paste, beans, rice, pasta, tuna and crackers. Some TP and some soap. This is the kind of despensa handed out by ONG’s and government agencies who have hundreds and hundreds of people to help out.

With the help of our generous donors, we are able to provide a solid supply of basics to our families in need. In addition our guides and drivers also receive the benefits of the love shown by people who have donated.

THANK YOU!

See the photos below to get an idea of what “your” despensas look like:

Lawsons despensa. There are two families, so everything is times two and we are taking these items every two weeks. In the village, it turns out that the recipients of these despensas turn around and share with neighbors so your donations are going a lot further than readily apparent. Here: Cleaning and cooking supplies, soda crackers.

Lawsons despensa.

Here: Several kilos rice and beans, canned fruit, chocolate, coffee, pancake mix, salt, sugar, milk.
There are two families, so everything is times two and we are taking these items every two weeks. In the village, it turns out that the recipients of these despensas turn around and share with neighbors so your donations are going a lot further than readily apparent.

There are two families, so everything is times two and we are taking these items every two weeks. In the village, it turns out that the recipients of these despensas turn around and share with neighbors so your donations are going a lot further than readily apparent.

Lawson’s despensa also includes tuna and mayo. Here we are preparing the second boxes, one box per family.

There are two families, so everything is times two and we are taking these items every two weeks. In the village, it turns out that the recipients of these despensas turn around and share with neighbors so your donations are going a lot further than readily apparent.

Lawsons despensa.

Here: Several kilos of pastas along with tomato paste are covering the tuna and mayo.
There are two families, so everything is times two and we are taking these items every two weeks. In the village, it turns out that the recipients of these despensas turn around and share with neighbors so your donations are going a lot further than readily apparent.

In the photos above, you can see some of what we are delivering. Below, a short video of more of where our money is going for donations. Some of this is for the families, some for Lawson’s guides and drivers.