Wednesday, October 8 2014

Welcome to Moorea

A little island with only 60 kilometers of roads. We know it well, because we have scoured the area by bike. Departing from Haapiti, alongside the sea, all the way to Cook Bay, which penetrates deeply into the island, almost to its center. It was from this point on we went up into the valley and little by little, pedaling hard uphill, we arrived to the agricultural area. A hidden small stretch in Moorea surrounded by crops, small farms, cows, bulls and crustacean farms. Jeff soul surfer and aspirant to Boca del Toro coconut throne join me in this journey, he took all the pictures in this edition of ollas y olas. 

Haapiti wave: happy iti! 

Haapiti a wave that breaks in not so shallow waters, is temperamental: sometimes yes, sometimes no. This break is greatly affected by the direction of the swell and the wind. I got some good waves and some scary moments too. The break can hold a big swell, I would say, some 4 meters. I thought all reef breaks were the same, but not so much, each one has its own personality.

 

Haapiti pot:  White thorn  with Pompolmouse sauce.

This recipe was born near Haapiti during our first weeks in the area. Jeff got zikka fever (similar to dengue fever) so I was pedalling around the whole island trying to get fresh corn, an essential ingredient for the tamalitos verdes which are, as we all know, the best cure for all ills. On one of these daily walks, this time up the hill, found some star fruits on the side of the road and thought that if nobody picked them up they would go bad, so I decided to leave the tamalitos verdes for another day and cook with local products.

Ingredients

Pompolmouse is a grape fruit that grows in the Polynesian islands. Differently from the common grape fruit, this cultivar from the Pacific is a surprisingly sweet giant and I say surprisingly, because to the naked eye it might appear to be green, but believe me, it is just the looks. With one is enough, like everything else here, they are huge.

1 white onion finely diced

2 white tuna fish or White Thorn filets captured by local artisan fishermen

Pompolmouse juice (from 1)

Starfruit

1 teaspoon of rocoto paste

A splash of dry white wine

2 tender pompolmouse leaves

Side dish

3 white potatoes peeled

1 butter lettuce

1/2 white onion cut in fine julienne 

3 parsley sprigs

 A splash of cream 

1 garlic clove smashed 

Start by the side: 

Boil the peeled potatoes cut in medium cubes; add the garlic. When the potatoes are really soft, add in the white onion cut in julienne and let cook on low fire. When onions are soft, add the parsley finely chopped and at the end the lettuce cut very finely and take it out of the fire. Before serving add a splash of milk when warming it up.

The fish:

Cut the fish in medallions and season it with salt, a few drops of pompolmuose and a little bit of white pepper. Seal the medallions in a pan and keep them warm.

Caramelize onions, deglaze with a splash of white wine. When the wine has evaporated, add the pompolmouse juice and one of the pompolmouse leaves finely cut. Cook for a little bit until  it is thicker.

To dish:

Put in the plate the caramelized onions and on top the fish, the starfruit cut in very thin slices, and cover with the sauce sauce. We use the rocoto paste teaspoon to decorate the plate. A tad of spiciness goes perfect with the sweetness of the dish.

The Pacific's tuna

When you travel you see beautiful things and those beautiful things are what I focus on and  what I like to share; that for pessimistic, we already have the news and newspapers. But there are sad things, which I feel the responsibility to share with you, now that I know better the sea. A few years ago I heard about these things but back then I didn't imagine they were so damaging.

Going back in time a few months ago, one day when crossing the Pacific we run into a Helicopter flying around us. We had not seen anybody since we left California coast, 10 days before. We exchanged glances of curiosity and waved at each other before each one continued with their course. I kept on thinking, what are these people doing here flying in the middle of nothing? and later I realize this solitude is not such.  There is life and it is this life these people are running after, particularly the one of the Pacific Tuna. The people in the helicopter are part of a crew of one of the numerous mega fishing boats that operate in this huge but not infinite ocean.

Is an unequal fishing this one that take place in the open ocean, and I am not only saying it just like a mermaid song but as a cook and sailor, a ceviche, tatami lover in general  a fan of fish and seafood in my plate. 

The sea birds are the ones that “sing it” with out a clue, they fly over the schooling fish in search of a bite. The fishing helicopters hover over the area and when they see a flock of birds they fly in that direction to confirm there is a fish school, only then the boat steers its course to those coordinates and throws its fishing nets. Nets that can be as long as 100 kilometers and of course capture the whole Tuna fish school and all the animals that coexist within it. This way, they don't give them a chance to escape and reproduce. Breaking families, societies whose last names will not survive; genetic variability lost forever. Let's remember that although they all are only tuna to our eyes, each one has adaptation and survival potentials that might be unique, generated by mother nature and its complex spiderwebs.

This kind of fishery is relatively new, it started approximately 20 years ago and seeing it with fool eyes is very efficient. Taking the definition used to study systems, the input put to the ship versus the output -in this case the fish obtained- is very efficient. But where in this vision, intentionally twisted, is the fishing of tomorrow? The efficient use of our resources? Well with all this efficiency, helicopters and fishing technology, left they are out of the picture. Marine resources will be scarcer each day and more expensive; more benefits for some, of course, but for the rest:no hay pescao! And for the fishes? Nobody cares about the fishes, just to have them on the table at accessible prices today; and what about tomorrow? Well we will figured out? mmm no sé, as a scientific don’t believe in miracles.

I have grown up. I don't feel sad anymore killing a Mahi Mahi  that I captured on a small sailing boat or the Wahoo -almost my size- we caught while on the Kaimana, or the octopus I caught on the beach shore in Tuamotus. Today I would feel sad of I open a can of tuna, feeling myself all fit and healthy while I am consuming the destruction of our ocean. 

Minimega Domani and the coconut factory 

Meanwhile here in Moorea,  coconut recollection has become part of the daily agenda. It is hard work, but someone has to do it, and who would be better than us who spend days anchored in Haapiti waiting for the swell to come back or looking through the window ready to set sail towards Huahine.

Larry, a fugitive born in South Africa but raised in the Caribbean, has invited us to stay in his sailboat. So here we are aboard of SY Domani enjoying the simple life. While sitting on the deck we see coconuts drifting on the open sea or near the coast, if lucky only need to jump into the sea, swim for a few meters and come back to the boat victorious with a coconut in hand. When we go exploring in the dinghy we stop the motor to pick up the coconuts floating near us. Today we went more pro since we spotted  a bunch of them at 100 meters from the Domani in the sand bank. Jeff, who hash a great coconut expertise, made sure they are good and I, following his instructions, swam with a net and got them. In less than half an hour we came back with 7 coconuts. 

Now to process them, that is the difficult part. Firsts things first: to get to the kernel. This part is done by the boys; not with a machete or an axe but with a dinghy anchor, the local way of doing it. Hapitti boys taught us how to do it. They peel a coconut in less than a minute!

In the Polynesia there is a tool that makes it easy grated the coconut meat. Is a wooden board with a narrow end -approximately 6 centimeters- on which it is screwed a kind of a disk like a spur, with a sawed sharp edge around the circumference and slightly tilted to one plane that we will place upwards. To grind it you just seat on the wooden part over in any flat rock and start rubbing the open coconut over the spur. It's unbelievable how easy is grinding the coconut this way. After, with a fine gauze just need to squeeze hard to get the milk. This is the first time I have made coconut milk and I think it is the official farewell to the canned coconut milk. In 40 little minutes you can get 3 or 4 cups depending on how milky the coconuts are.Afterwards, with the coconut shell you can make other wonders like, dishes, cups, pots for herbs, toys for kids, fishing tools, shoes. Lately, our life in Moorea revolves around coconuts recollection, for sport, consumption and love to the art.

Panna Cotta with Pompolmouse

ingredients

2 cups of coconut milk

1/4 cup of confectioner's sugar or less (taste it as you move forward)

2 1/2 sheets of unflavored gelatin

1 vanilla pod

a tad of ground cinnamon

1 pompolmouse

In a small pot bring coconut milk to a boil, add the vanilla (seeds and pod) and let infuse for about 10 minutes. Add the sugar, the gelatin previously hydrated and boil it again just for 30 seconds.  Place in the cups you are using to serve and once they are cold take them to the refrigerator for 8 hours minimum. If you want to unmold them, place the molds for a few seconds in hot water until you see they are loose. Spread nicely pompolmouse wedges around. The contrast between the creamy and sweet and the citric is really good.

Tuamotus archipelago

Changing latitudes was what I liked the most, there's no need to change the clocks: nothing else to do but seeing how the hours of dawn and sunset change gradually. We are again mere witnesses. As with surfing, sailing help attune my senses. Things I couldn't care less for before are now the first things I notice when come out onto the deck; like the shape of clouds, the change in the strength and direction of the wind and; during the night, the magnificent stars.

In five days we will arrive to Tuamotus. I remember the first time I saw this archipelago in the map. Checking it Google Earth and these islands appeared in front of my eyes, not even islands; these islander rings. I laughed, they seemed not real, like a joke.Like the draw of a child. I thought that one day I would like to go there but was very distant desire, like a shooting star wish, like when you wish to tele-transport yourself or to fly.

Mauururu an island the other way around

It seems like leaving an ocean to enter into another, smaller. A little cup of sea. They are called atolls and are the opposite of islands. Sea surrounded by land and this land, again surrounded by the pacific ocean. A stretch of approximately 300 meters width constitute an imperfect ring that rest on the Pacific Ocean. In Mauururu, there is only one pass that communicates the lagoon with the open sea at all times.

After a few days moored in the pass we noticed something curious: water always flowed from the inside of the atoll to the outside. We thought the tidal changes would determine if the water leaves or enters the lagoon, but this is not the case. The water enters the lagoon by the south stretches where the atoll is narrower. Over there, small and occasional natural waterways appear and are used by the small sharks, fish and me with the kayak. Locals told me that these waterways only appear when the swell is strong and comes from the south because in the north the atoll is too wide. Almost a 3/4 of a mile! 

When there is no swell, the flow of water through these channels is almost nonexistent. The lagoon looks like enclosed in a bubble. Sounds like a cliché but the sky melts with the sea in ways I have never seen before. A harmony of pastels that change slowly from orange to turquoise, to translucent while you are standing still feeling like you are in another dimension, totally sober. I was forgetting to mention that in Mauururu alcohol trade is forbidden by law.

The waves are here and it was worth waiting. They are clean lefts that break very close to the reef, one after the other, in different sizes, uniformly perfect. For the locals are dancing in the waves. Impressed. The drop is fast, just as they break their size increases showing their power when breaking in a blast, in a few meters, unless you are local and go play on top the reef. A perfect wave in a little island with a narrow pass, must not confuse it with a small wave.  The expression good things come in small packages is a perfect match for these waves. I think seven surfers in these waves would be too many.

                                                                                     Foto: Melissa Mahoney

                                                                                     Foto: Melissa Mahoney

                                                                                     Foto: Melissa Mahoney

                                                                                    Foto: Melissa Mahoney

Octopus Hunting

Today while I was paddling the kayak around town, getting acquainted with the reef around the village, looking for waterways and a quiet place to sit on, I found a small sand beach. Some thirty coconut trees in the shore make it even more inviting so I beached the kayak. Reaching a coconut didn't look easy so I stayed enjoying the shade and a beautiful view. I was submerged in my thoughts and starting to fall sleep in the purest St. Martin style, when a visitor attracts my attention and brings me back to Mauururu. A curious and unfortunate little octopus came to me on a small wave. In this pristine sea, even seated  good meters away, its fluid movements betrayed it. With very little faith, like playing my only card, I placed the end of the paddle in its way and surprisingly it fell for it. It embraced  the paddle and rapidly I took it out of the water. Very nervous -both of us- battled in the shore, the octopus trying to escape back to the sea and I wanting to go back in time and never had come across its way. But the match is one. I keep turn it around like an anticucho spining my next move. By the coconuts I saw coming a smiling big man who probably watched the whole scene. He laugh hard and offered me a coconut and finished the dirty job. I went back to the boat, happy with our fresh caught lunch. 

                                                                                     Foto: Melissa Mahoney

The recipe I share along with this adventure is how to wash and boil an octopus.

To boil the octopus

1 octopus of 1 Kg  (at least, if its smaller doesn't taste good)

1 turnip

1 tomato

1 hand of white rice

2 bags of green tea

a splash of soy sauce

Whole black pepper grains

A lot of salt and a plastic strainer or sand and a rock

Mihano -which is the name of the local who helped me kill the octopus- not only helped me with the octopus but taught me the local way to wash an octopus.  And that is how life goes in Mauururu, the psychological and pathologic rush that affects us, mostly in big cities here is nonexistent.

Once the octopus is dead, he seat and "dust" it like a milanese but with beach sand. Then  look for a stone that feels comfortable in his right hand and start rubbing it over the sanded octopus in such a way that the slime of the octopus comes off. Eventually he dip the octopus in the sea, "sand" it again and continue rubbing until feel it is soft enough and free of slime. This is the Tuamotu way to clean an octopus.

If we are not lucky enough to be on the beach but in a kitchen, we can simulate the Faaite style cleaning with salt and the help of a plastic strainer. Pour quite a bit of salt over the octopus and rub it against the strainer like you were washing dirty clothes but really dirty clothes. As with the previous method, we will see the foam appearing on the octopus skin as the slime disappears. Same as before we will verify -by rubbing with our hands- that it is soft and there is no slime. If you feel any slime,  just put a little more salt and go again with the rubbing. 

In a big pot we put 9 liters of water, add all the ingredients but the octopus and bring it to a boil over high heat, really high, should look like a witch's cooking pot.

We need to take out everything inside the head of the clean octopus. Don't forget to take out his mouth, a small beak that looks like a mussel. Then we need to scare it five times, this is dip it into the boiling water five times grabbing it by the head. After each plunge -here I recommend to use gloves so you don't burnt yourself- take it by the end of the tentacles and stretch it. After the fifth time we leave it in the boiling water for 40 minutes without turning down the heat. Next we will verify if it is soft with a knife and let it cool down in the same pot, patiently.

In Mauururu when not waves the point is magasin Mohana, home of our friend Tiarere, a talented dancer and choreographer.

After visiting a few times and make friend the girls invited me to dance with them. They want me to be part of the parade for the Heiva that will take place next Saturday.  Tahitian dances are difficult to master but the girls are disciplined and get together every day, sometimes twice a day to practice. I am not so disciplined and only join them when there are no waves. My lack of perseverance and of talent kept me from participating in the comparsa officially. But still I join them and become part of the group.We made with palms and flowers the most beautiful outfits for the parade night. I kept on trying to get the Tahitian swing.

The day of the contest arrived and the three groups participating are good and very happy. My group is the happiest because they won the first place. To celebrate, Sunday we made a small bonfire on the beach, we danced, sang and drank "Mapu" -a coconut beer sold secretly here in Mauuru. We go back to our homes at 4 in the morning, time flew.

Foto: Melissa Mahoney

In the same way as we arrived, two weeks later, in a hurry, without thinking much, still dreaming of coconut crab.