Taste Of The Tropics Smoothie

The coldest week of the year. Single digits. The kind of cold that makes you reconsider every life decision that led you to Connecticut instead of staying in Puerto Rico where God intended warm-blooded Caribbean people to live. I told Eduardo this morning, We should move back to the island. He said, Carmen, you have said this every January for twenty-eight years. I said, And every January I am right. He went to work. I went to work. We are not moving to the island. But January makes me dream about it.

At the hospital, the flu season is in full swing. Every floor is full. The ER has a line out the door. My kitchen is running at maximum capacity — more meals, more trays, more special dietary requests, more everything. I live for this. I know that sounds strange but this is when I am at my best, when the demand is highest and the pressure is greatest and everyone is looking at me to deliver. I deliver. I always deliver. Fifteen hundred meals a day becomes seventeen hundred. My team steps up because I trained them and because they know that if they do not step up, Carmen will notice, and Carmen noticing is worse than the flu.

Trish has become excellent. Six months ago she did not know what sofrito was. Now she can prep a sofrito base blindfolded. She runs the lunch service with confidence that I recognize because it is the same confidence I had at her age — earned, hard-won, built one tray at a time. I told her this week, Trish, you are good at this. She said, I learned from the best. I said, Yes, you did. I was not being modest. I was being accurate. There is a difference and I have never been confused about which is which.

Made a big pot of asopao de camarones tonight — shrimp asopao, the thick rice soup with shrimp and sofrito and tomato sauce and pimientos, rich and warming, the kind of food that makes January bearable. Eduardo had two bowls and fell asleep on the couch and I covered him with the blanket and I stood at the window watching the snow fall on Hartford and I thought about Bayamon where it never snows and the coqui frogs sing at night and the air smells like plumeria and the streets are warm under your feet. I miss it. I always miss it. The missing does not get smaller. You just build a life around it, a kitchen around it, a table around it, and the life becomes big enough to hold both the missing and the love. Both. Always both.

The asopao takes care of the nights — Eduardo with his two bowls, the blanket, the snow outside — but the mornings are their own kind of battle, and for those I need something that reminds me the sun still exists somewhere, even when Hartford disagrees. This smoothie is what I make before the hospital, before the seventeen hundred trays, before any of it: cold and bright and tropical in a way that makes my kitchen smell, just for a moment, like it belongs somewhere near the water. It is not Bayamón. But it is close enough to get me out the door.

Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 5 minutes | Servings: 2

Ingredients

1 cup frozen mango chunks
1 cup frozen pineapple chunks
1 medium ripe banana, sliced and frozen
3/4 cup full-fat coconut milk
1/2 cup fresh orange juice
1/2 teaspoon fresh lime zest
1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
1 teaspoon honey or agave, optional
Pinch of ground ginger
Toasted coconut flakes, for garnish (optional)

Instructions

Prep your fruit. If you haven’t frozen your banana ahead of time, 30 minutes in the freezer will do. Measure out the frozen mango and pineapple directly from the bag.
Blend the base. Add the coconut milk and orange juice to the blender first — this helps the blades catch. Then add the frozen mango, pineapple, and banana.
Season and adjust. Add the lime zest, lime juice, ground ginger, and honey if using. Blend on high for 60–90 seconds until completely smooth and creamy. Taste and add more lime or honey as needed.
Serve immediately. Pour into two tall glasses. Top with toasted coconut flakes if you want the full effect. Drink it before the cold reminds you where you actually are.

Nutrition (per serving)

Taste Of The Tropics Smoothie — A Sip of Bayamón When Hartford Is Frozen Solid