Alan and I are on vacation, traveling Costa Rica for a week. Alan says he loves traveling with me because I journey by my nose like a hound on the hunt. He swears by my ability to pick a good restaurant as we drive along.
We left home yesterday and spent the night in the capital, San José. We did that for one important reason: a meal at our favorite Italian restaurant, El Mediteraneo, run by an Italian expatriate whose food is always superb.
Yesterday we had their ensalada capresa, a wonderful mix of bright red sliced tomatoes, basil leaves, and a large ball of mozzarella cheese. This is not just any old mozzarella, but mozzarella made from water buffalo milk. It is a soft, smooth and subtle cheese with a slightly salty taste that melts in your mouth. Ambrosia.
We also had grilled mixed vegetables, including eggplant, zucchini, sun-dried tomatoes, asparagus, butter beans, pickled onions and other little treats, all drizzled with balsamic vinegar and extra virgin olive oil. To accompany this we had a basket of fragrant, crusty bread we dipped in olive oil and the drippings from the vegetables.
While we were eating our main course, a home made pasta with a spicy tomato sauce and sirloin tips, a man arrived wearing a big black backpack and carrying a big, black plastic garbage bag. He also carried a small toy that was twittering in his outstretched hand. We are conditioned to ignore these people. Hawkers are a frequent annoyance here. They stalk diners countrywide and if you make the slightest eye contact with them, they are instantly at your table hawking their wares until you are forced to buy or leave, often with your dinner uneaten. I kept my eyes on my plate.
The man made his way past our table and to the bar where the owner sat. But this toy of his interested me.
It was a small bird perched on a limb. When the man clapped his hands, the bird twittered, its beak opening and closing as if real. It switched its tail in a very birdlike fashion, and ruffled its feathers. The sound was also as birdlike as you can get.
I was thunderstruck with desire and had to see it up close. I started to get up from the table to go to the bar, but the owner gave me a stern look and shook his head, no.
Finally the waiter took pity on me and brought it over. He showed me how it worked and it looked as real as it had across the room.
“My mother calls these ‘idiot toys,’” I told him.
“Mauricio (the owner) has one that repeats what he says, but in his very own voice,” the waiter told me.
“He has a parrot at home?” I asked.
“No, an idiot toy,” the waiter said, assuming this new term he just learned as though it were his own.
The Idiot Toy was Chino, but then you knew it, didn’t you?
The plastic bird was so realistic as to be fantastic. I think it could be accurately described as a cardinal of sorts, or perhaps an oriole, but it was the packaging that really sold me on the thing.
The box says:
Chirms
Wiggly
Penholder
Well, yes, the last is a bit difficult to decipher. I had to investigate. And, in fact, one of the tree’s branches that the birdie sits on is hollow, allowing the owner to put a pen or two (or perhaps a pencil) in the afore mentioned penholder.
I love the “chirms” part.
But there is more. The toy is called “The Heartful Bird.” It says right on the box:
“The birdie’s bright chirping will relax your body and mind and bring you back to the great nature, where you can entirely freed from worry and enjoy a moment of placidity.”
Well, that is going on vacation with us is all I can say. How can we go wrong?
It was only 5000 colones, which sounds so much cheaper than $10.
I bought one, on the spot!
