Nicaraguans are a bunch of big babies, so it should come as no surprise that they’ve erected a gran tótem to their favourite brand of comida para bebé. That’s baby food to you, el gringo.
The cherubic Nicas (as those of us ensconced within the beating womb of América Central call the passionate locals) are obsessed with Nido powdered milk. They sprinkle the scrumptious powder atop corn cobs, mix it in with arroz, or simply gobble it from the tin as they excitedly watch soccer games or participate in riots.
After discovering this quartet of king-sized cans in the rustic village of León, me pavoneé adentro para probar el delicioso manjar. Lo siento, I keep lapsing into española – I simply mean that I swaggered inside the barbed wire-clad shoppe and ordered a pitcher of Nido.
The drink I was served was as delightful as it was exotic, and each gulp took me closer to a life-affirming journey that I won’t soon forget.
All you Nido is love!
I found the pollo-flavoured dairy drink every bit as feisty and delicious as the Nicaraguans themselves. After besando al burro (oops! There I go again!) I skipped through León’s historic cobblestone streets and flounced upon a seat by the Parque Central to admire the sun setting behind the Real e Insigne Basílica de la Asunción de la Bienaventurada Virgen María.
Or ‘The big church in the middle of town’, for you gringos.
With the prebiotic fibres surging through my bloodstream, the years melted away and I reverted to a younger, more innocent version of Bigs Bardot. After wetting my pants and jigging awkwardly to a Wiggles song, I threw a good ol’ tantrum that I knew would bring me no comfort because Mum was over at the Grange putting the grocery money through the pokies and wouldn’t be home for days, probably with some hombre she’d just fallen in love with.
Ah, how different things could have been if I had grown up in León rather than Wyoming. Picking pockets by day, oohing and ahhing over Las Latas de Leche Nido Gigantes by night. Well, a girl can dream.
By the time I emerged from my Nido-fuelled psychosis, the lactose-infused dust covering every inch of my naked body, I realised I’d been robbed of everything bar my dignity. Although, on reflection, befouling myself in public and weeping upon the heavy bosom of a statue of the Virgin Mary probably wasn’t my finest hour. Sí!
