Meaning…our host carried the chicken with her down the mountain. Killed it. Plucked it (side note: have you ever plucked anything before cooking? It’s hard). Cleaned it. Cooked it in coconut milk.
Which she made by hand by getting and opening fresh coconuts, grating them, soaking the coconut meat and then straining it.
She then cooked the tender chicken in the fresh coconut milk with greens that she cleaned and prepared before the meal. She served the coconut chicken over the top of root vegetables that she had to get from the garden, clean, and cook. OH AND SHE DID ALL OF THIS OVER AN OPEN FIRE.
It was ready long after dark. So they lighted some kerosine lanterns, and had to wake me up. But it was so worth it, and man was it delicious! “Slow food” in the West has nothing on us.
