Found it

Among the plenitude of things I'm grateful to my parents about is that they brought me up to eat anything. I ate incredibly well growing up, with both parents cooking most of the time-we were able to enjoy a wide variety of dishes, as my parents definitely have different tastes. I still remember some more dramatic lessons that my dad taught me about eating what I was given and not complaining about it. I've had the great fortune of traveling to a few countries and also around much of the U.S, tasting all sorts of food. One of the things I love about my dad is that when we'd travel when I was a kid he'd always try to seek out some local restaurant-even if all of us just wanted to go to a chain. My dad thoroughly enjoys a good meal, and is always on the lookout for it. My mom is a person that doesn't like to eat the same thing too often. While I'm pretty much the polar opposite (my universal acceptance of food doesn't make me picky-even about repetition). Yet, her desire for something different meant that she was always trying out new recipes, or new restaurants, whereas my dad, brother, and I would probably just go to Famous Dave's every time we go out to eat. 


I don't have a great memory, but I can't remember ever refusing food, or telling someone I couldn't eat that. I'm not hating on vegetarians and feel sympathy for those with dietary restrictions-but, luckily my parents taught me never to refuse food which I say is lucky because it means I get to try everything and in doing so experience one of the few things that everyone in the world has (or should have) in common-eating. That doesn't mean I like everything I eat. Almost everywhere where I've spent some time, I've found something that I just can't stomach. In China it was stinky tofu. And, in the past few weeks, I found the Costa Rican culprits. 


I'm a pretty straight shooter, so my agreeable belly is good for me, because a common question I've received has been "how do you like Costa Rican food?" "how have you adapted to the Costa Rican diet?" I am able to tell them that I like it, I've adapted fabulously, and I've got no big complaints about what I've eaten. 


But I've got two very specific complaints: Maxi Malta and nances. I had noticed that a bunch of people every day and night were drinking this drink in an aluminum can (sorry couldn't find a can image) called Maxi. So, one night at the night school, I bought a can from the convenience store. As I got to class, I sat down next to Laura, an English teacher with a great sense of humor. I opened my can, took a big swig, and "oh-my-gosh-this-tastes-horrible" came straight out of my mouth. Laura agreed, she likewise didn't understand why so many people like it. Because my parents also taught me not to be wasteful, I lost the sunk cost logical argument in my head and drank the whole can. I mean, I was thirsty. Yet, I don't deceive, there are a bunch of people that drink one every day. Maxi Malta, as its website advertises, is the only malted barley drink for sale in Costa Rica. I'm utterly surprised that even it sticks around. I can definitively say, I like my barley with some hops. 

The second culprit should be considered on trial or rather, the local court made a ruling, but there's a possibility of an appeal to a higher court. Also at the night school, a super fun Spanish teacher who spent 10 or so years working in Houston offered me a nance. (It may be called golden spoon in English, but it's mainly a Latin America fruit, so I'll use nance (nahn-say).) I'd seen nances before, steeping in the sugar cane moonshine that is so popular here, but had never tasted them. I'd seen them on sale plenty too, but until the teacher offered me one, hadn't tasted them. From appearances (look left), I was expecting something maybe cherry or blueberry-esque. What I got was putrid, bitter, and sour all at the same time. With such an experience, I told him it was repulsive and turned down the second offer. It's possible that I just got a bad nance. It's also possible that nances are just bad-and maybe only taste good when steeped in equally revolting moonshine. I'll probably come around and try them again, and I'll update if my first sample wasn't indicative. 


If only two of the numerous things I've tried have failed to please, it either means my standards are low, or Costa Rica is doing a pretty damn good job of pleasing my palate. I'll give the Ticans the benefit of the doubt-they may not have too much variety in their daily diet, but they tend to put together a nice, hearty plate of food.