Sacha tomate jam. Meeting the President

Being the spouse of a diplomat and more precisely, of an Ambassador, sometimes gives you the opportunities to do things that perhaps otherwise you wouldn't have access to. These chances are unique, break my routine and  make my life more exciting. Besides, you never know, those opportunities might lead you to something else. It is a domino game, where a piece touches another before falling down.

Two weeks ago, Nick was told that the ceremony to give the letter of Credentials was happening soon, but we didn't know when exactly and what time. The President Ollanta Humala was a busy men so it wasn't easy to find a space in his busy agenda to meet the new wave of Ambassadors arriving in Peru from Australia, Francia, Guatemala and Panama. 

Eventually, on the 27th of november Nick was going  to be officially presented as the new Australian Ambassador in Peru. The office of Protocol kept telling us different hours to meet Mr Humala, at 4pm, 8.30am, 6.30am, 7.15am...and finally, "it will be at 7.30am. It is confirmed" said the person in charge. So I arranged my nanny to be at home at 6am to look after the children and get them ready to go to school.

I am holding a photograph of Nick shaking hands with the ex Spanish King Juan Carlos. Next to him,  the Counsellor and the new Australian Ambassdor in Madrid who was presenting his Credentials. The three of them made a lovely team, a friendship that marked Nick's first posting in a memorable way.

It was October of 2000 when an excited Nick told me that he went in a carriage to the Palacio Real or Royal Palace to meet the Spanish King - at that time. It was unbelievable, like something from another century!Thank you Spain and your old rich history! You have to understand this sentence in the context of an Australian point of view.

We were in a trendy bar in Chueca street having some tapas - croquetas de jamon and a copa de Rioja red wine. For the first part of the story I listened carefully, very attentive. My ears and eyes were wide open.  I was fascinated by what he was telling me and by the fact that he lived that especial ceremony. I will never be able to meet a king, Spanish or not I accepted with resignation but happy that he had the chance to do it.

I was 24 and still new in this relationship with my charming Australian boyfriend whom I met exactly a month before his royal meeting. At the same time the words of his imperfect Spanish were music to my ears, a thought crossed my mind. It was about that domino game and how my life was flying in the right direction after a recent break up... If I hadn't caught that Easy Jet plane to visit my sister in London, I wouldn't be in this bar with Nick. I would be in a bus travelling to the South of Spain to see my andalucian ex boyfriend whom I saw a few weeks ago because we were having a long distance relationship, an unhappy one that it lasted longer than I wished.

Back to happier moments, Nick and I arrived in different cars at the Palacio del Gobierno or Government Palace, also known as house of Pizarro, who built the emblematic building in 1535. I was taken to a silent room decorated with wooden antiques, golden statues and a big painting that took almost the wall that separated two uniformed soldiers next to the sofa where I was sit. I was nervous, moving hands from the lap of my black and white skirt to my well tied pony tail that I fixed quickly in the car leaving the residence. Thank goodness I always have a travel make up box in my bag to correct the motherhood purple circles under eyes. 

I was with the spouses of the other three Ambassadors "to be". We were all waiting with much anticipation our turn to accompany our respective partners. An awkward conversation was obviously forced.

The ceremony gave me goose bumps and it was as beautiful as I always imagined thanks to Nick's previous description from his experience in Madrid in 2000. But now, it was him who was presenting his Credentials to the Peruvian President - a not very tall but charismatic men. It was a solemn occasion, respectful and breathtaking. It was...magnificent. 

Another piece of the domino fell down. I was grateful and overwhelmed for being part of that especial day. Who would it thought fourteen years ago that I would be a witness of that ceremony, and in the "darkest" Peru? I didn't during that tapas night with Nick in Madrid.

A strong cup of coffee and some flaky pastries were part of our delicious breakfast in the Club Nacional to celebrate it. 

Because life is about celebration and food is always part of it. At least for me.

Sacha tomate or tamarillo: tree tomate, a fruit from the Andes

- I am proud of this photo because I don't usually take great ones. I think I will frame it for my kitchen -

Tomate tree jam

by Maricel E. Presilla

• 16 fresh sacha tomates
• 5 whole cloves
• 5 allspice berries
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1 cup of sugar

1. Cut a shallow cross on the tip of each sacha tomate. Place the sacha tomates in a medium sauce pan with water to cover, bring to a boil over medium heat and cook until soft, about 20 minutes.
2. Drain the sacha tomates and peel. Force the pulp through a strainer (I didn't do this step) into a bowl.
3. place the puree in a saucepan with the cloves, allspice, salt and sugar. Stir to mix well, simmer over medium low heat until it is as thick as jam.
4. Serve with savouries dishes, curries or cheese.