Before I Climb Down From My Soapbox

Sous Chef. (so̵̅o̅′shef′)  noun: underappreciated, overworked, underpaid, must say “yes chef”, everyone voices an opinion about what you’re doing and you just have to suck it up, held responsible for everything but do not have the ultimate decision, not due to lack of ability but lack of title, glorified line cook.

 

The Culinary Adventures of Youngest and Bucket

Two swimsuits.  Four sundresses.  Flash lights. Hiking shoes.  84 oz can of ultra bug spray.

Ingredients necessary for five days in Verana. 

That’s right folks. Mexico.

Partner in crime, Bucket.  My adorable, well behaved, always says the right thing to counteract me saying the wrong things, boyfriend.  Oh, and he’s cute too.  

We packed our bags and got our pale behinds on a seven am flight to Puerto Vallarta.  Believe it or not, our adventure was already to begin.  You see, Bucket and myself are not the best of fliers.  Perhaps it’s the knowledge that we are 30,000 miles to our potential death, or maybe the made for tiny midget seats that makes us so uncomfortable.  (no offense to midgets but seriously, have you sat in coach lately?) Gifts from Dr. Youngest dad, medication was administered before we sat back, relaxed, and enjoyed our flight. Now, not quite sure at what point I looked up to my Bucket from my drugged induced coma, but he was not ok.  Apparently, this medication had not only not allowed him to sleep, but turned my adorable, mature guy into a drooling, lazy eye, needing a helmet and wait for the small bus individual.  (again, no offense to the small bus, it’s great that such services are provided…) And it gave him a hard on. 

Two hours later we land in Mexico.  Bucket had recovered, we had two hours to go thru customs, get our bags, and take an hour cab ride to Boca to catch the last speedboat of the day to take us to Verana. 

In brief, we were screwed.

The customs line was about a two-hour wait.  As I stood there taking in the situation, preparing myself to not freak out in front of Bucket, because we were on our first vacation together which honestly people, can make or break your relationship, to look up to see Senor Santos, Bucket, and a wheelchair. 

Que? You want me to what?!  Yup, we were doing this.  I sat my ass in that wheelchair, pretended that I was sick and got rolled out of custom with my bags and Bucket.  T minus 40 minutes till our boat takes off.  We have an hour drive. Again, screwed.  We look at the taxi line and hand pick our cab (the first few had “gordo” drivers that I just didn’t think they were up to the challenge.) When we saw the unmarked cab car with the cabbie blasting Mexican pop; I knew we had a winner.  As we threw our bags in the back we quickly explained that we had now 30 minutes to get to Boca to catch our boat.  Whatever the price was we would pay double.  Just get my pale ass there.  The man was quiet, contemplating this mission.  Looking in the mirror at us both he said slowly  “please put on your seat belts.”

Thirty minutes and ten near death experiences later, we make it to our boat.  We both ripped off our jeans, long sleeve shirts, boots, and clad our summer wear.  Having actually ten minutes to spare we indulged in our first Mexican snack.  Two Pacificos, chips and guacamole.  Vacation tastes amazing.  After polishing off two more Pacificos we boarded our speedboat and left for Verana.

Ah…..Verana. 

Close your eyes.  Imagine lush rolling mountains covered in trees, thrashing blue waves against multicolored jagged rocks, salty breeze, paradise.  Now shed that single tear because you just realized that you don’t live there. 

Verana is an amazing boutique hotel that offers eight custom built “houses” ranging from a Japanese tea house that is open to all of natures elements, to Mayan which had a private lounging area and then to my Studio, a glass enclosed half in half out house that has two out door seating areas offering the most amazing view out of the entire place.  These custom houses provide the perfect balance of out door natural aura with upscale urban comfort.  And an outdoor shower to boot.

Because this property only offers eight houses and is not the easiest to get to, it is quite secluded.  There is a gorgeous pool offering lounge chairs to work on your tan or in my case to work on just skin tone or you can fall asleep in the hammocks which was a favorite of mine despite waking up with your face half imprinted from the cloth.  At night they turn down your room and light an ungodly amount of candles, which provides the most romantic atmosphere possible.  Bucket had done good…

Eight am.  Waking up to the rolling hills merging with the trashing ocean was a religious experience.  Taking five minutes to entangle myself from the mosquito net surrounding our bed, I run to our front porch.  A breakfast snack awaits us!  Tea, coffee, and a delicious breakfast bakery to enjoy.

Then breakfast!  Fresh fruits, almond smoothie served in a gigantic margarita glass (to which ever time I heard the blender I yelled “someone is getting a smoothie”) migas, breakfast tacos that were addictive, FRESH yogurt for a delicious parfait which Bucket is somewhat a connoisseur of.  Everything was amazingly fresh, prepared well, and all served with the view of the ocean. 

Lunch consisted of melon gazpacho which I quickly craved everyday, Thai beef salad, fish cakes, and ceviche.  What was not to miss was their fresh juice of the day, hibiscus berry, watermelon mint, and pineapple ginger.  Truly intoxicating flavors that quenched your thirst and satisfied your taste buds.

Once 8 pm hit, dinner was served.  A three course prefix that ranged from grilled shrimp with rice, dates wrapped with bacon, chicken mole, taco Tuesday night, cheesecake, sweet empanadas, the list was endless.  The drink list offered a selection of custom cocktail, beer and wine.  The Michelada was the winner for us.  Lime juice, salt rim and a Pacifico.  Refreshing, light, delicious by the poolside, by your bedside, by your food side.

Your days were filled with lounging by the pool (everytime I would look up from my book and take in my surroundings, my eyes would glaze over in disbelief that something this beautiful could actually exists and I was actually there.); day hikes to Yelapa, Cathedral Falls, spa treatments, and Yoga.  We decided to take part in all of it.  Yelapa was a small town that was a thirty-minute hike that had a beach covered with outdoor restaurants and bars.  We were craving a Modelo Especial and Verana was all out so Yelapa was next up.  By speaking to the locals I come to find out they had a famous pie maker in town, Augustina.  She sold eight different pies everyday by walking up and down the beach between 11am and 3pm.  And she carried all these pies on her head.  I had to see this. No matter how many times we would ask where to find this Augustina we would always miss her; I was beginning to think she was a myth like the famous Iowa Unicorns.  On our way to Cathedral Waterfall, alas I see a stoutly woman carrying plastic tubs on her head.  Jackpot.  So we purchased the lemon and coconut pie, took a photo with the famous Yelapa pastry chef, and went on with our hike.

Augustina’s pies were light and delicious.  Expecting a dense lemon curd with a shiny toasted meringue, instead I found a light and airy lemon flan topped with a common meringue that had been baked in the oven till it was golden brown.  The Coconut pie was filled with dense shredded coconut held together by egg whites surrounded by a buttery pie shell.  We ate our pie slices by the waterfall and then hiked all the way back to Verana with our stomachs full.

Leaving Verana was an upsetting moment in which I swore on those beautiful waves and shiny rocks that I would return.  Perhaps even to live one day and bake delicious pastries in Mexico.  Senorita Youngest.  Yes, I think that has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?

Augustina, you and your pies, sleep with one eye open.

To find out more information about visiting Verana:

http://www.verana.com/website/asp/veranapage2.asp