We raced to the airport in an unmarked, (I’ll call it “shabby chic”) wood-paneled station wagon taxi. We had to catch the 12:45 flight to Punta Gorda, which is where my college roommate Patty and her husband Sean are living during their time in the Peace Corps.
“That is actually a really hard maneuver that the pilot just did. He must be really good.” P.P said as we swung through the air making turns I thought only a race car could make.
“I’m glad he’s good.” I yelled back to P.P. who was strapped in the back of the plane surrounded by an assortment of colorful, tropical flower arrangements that were being delivered to a resort at our destination. As we cruised in for landing, I listened to my ipod to drown out the roaring motor. I rubbed my shamrock charm as we hovered then gently landed onto the runway.
As we taxied to the small airport a fellow passenger turned on her cell phone and yelled “I’m home!” I laughed and hopped off the hot (air vents weren’t working) plane onto the ladder steps and attempted to fix my hair before I greeted my friend. I scanned the building for Patty and saw her profile through the window of the cottage-sized airport.
She was tanner and thinner than I remembered and I was thrilled to see her and hear all about her life in Belize. I was dying to hear all about her job, lifestyle and, of course, what she’s been eating.
Flashback story: I chose my college for three reasons; they had my major (and it was a good program), there was a cool thrift shop in the town, and I fell in love with the food court. Patty loved the food court too. We talked about this the minute we met each other 8 years ago. This was what held us together during those four years¦ our dedication to finding good food and gobbling it up.
Patty walked with her bike on the dusty dirt roads, with P.P. and I by her side in the hot afternoon sun. We did our best to fill each other in on the last year and a half of our lives as we made our way to her house. She and her husband live in an adorable little white house with a chipping cherub fountain (came with the house) out front and two well-loved hammocks on their porch. We dropped off our belongings, tasted some coconut fudge from a local boy that Patty refers to as “my fudge boy”, (oh if only I could have such a luxury) and lounged in the hammocks for a few hours.
We changed for dinner and headed to a local restaurant by the sea. The breeze was picking up but it wasn’t chilly. It was just enough to swish around the hot air to soothe our sun-kissed skin. The dinner was a going away party for a friend of Patty’s so a buffet style meal was prepared. Oh. My. God… it was good.
Roasted, baked, stewed, curried, grilled and friend meats like goat, chicken, beef and fish filled the table. Fried plantains (a personal favorite), rice and beans and potato salad accompanied each savory bite. And then… there was dessert. The best lime pie I’ve ever tasted was on that buffet. Right next to a pineapple fruit bar that rocked my world.
Patty and I cooed with delight as we yummed up all the fixings. Hammock. Buffet. Pie. It was a good night.
The Final Dish: Reconnecting with foodie friends is worth a trip anywhere.
