Homemade Coconut Milk
So we stop.
At the little round house on Pine Island, Florida.
The breeze slaps palm fronds together as if applauding our arrival. Little lizards scamper up the wooden staircase. Inside the house, a full kitchen awaits. I’m so excited I don’t even know where to begin.
Coconuts litter the ground, more than I can count. A perfect beginning.
I pick one up and use the claw of a hammer to break and then peel away the outer husk. It’s a process; sweat drips down my face. Coconut husk particles cling to my legs like sawdust. I’m a mess, and I have a beautiful coconut in my hand.
I read a couple tutorials on how to open a coconut, grab my knife and clobber the nut several times, fibers flying everywhere, until the liquid gushes into the bowl.
Impossible to find in any store.
This delicious gem gets drizzled onto my oatmeal in the morning, poured into my coffee, added to mashed sweet potatoes.
Yes. I will make coconut milk. My heart flutters with excitement, and my mouth begins to water.
Nancy lends me a food processor for which I am forever grateful. Whizzing pierces my ears as the machine pulverizes the coconut meat. Silence fills the kitchen while I add some lukewarm tap water to help release all the flavors and nutrients of the coconut. Whizzing again. For 2 long minutes.
The gentle scent of coconut wafts through the house. A nut bag would be really handy right now, I think to myself as I press the pulp into the fine wire mesh strainer to extract the silky white cream. The coconut water swirls into the cream creating cirrus clouds.
I take a sip.
Nutty, creamy, sweet coconut milk.