March 12, 2014
Before we left Tarija a week ago we spent the morning in the most charming village we’ve yet visited: San Lorenzo, about ten miles from the city. The houses are almost all colonial; in the courtyard of the house in which the revolutionary hero Moto Méndez grew up is an old peppertree with a grape vine growing around it and an old fig tree next to a well. A river runs through the town, and several streams branch off from it; one can follow them away from town past vineyards and wild fig trees (down one of these streams we meet a cowboy and his cow). In San Lorenzo they make rosquetes, large but almost weightless tubular pastries covered in white meringue; according to one legend they’re haloes that the angels left behind.