I have taken to walking home from the office. It is a couple of miles. I have to cross a bridge to the smaller island that we live on in this tropical paradise.
It takes me about half an hour to walk home. I leave the office, and walk along the harbour front marina. I come to the bridge. The bridge is rather tall, and the incline is steep to allow boats to pass underneath. At the foot of the bridge is a peanut vendor. He is selling bags of peanuts to the cars stopped for the traffic light at the end of the bridge.
I asked him how much the paper bags of peanuts were, and he said that they were a dollar. I expressed surprise at the small amount of peanuts for a dollar. He said that he had roasted them himself over a wood fire. It was a novel idea, and I am always on the lookout for new tastes. I paid the man his dollar, and collected the bag of peanuts. He asked me where I was from, assuming that I was a tourist. I told him that I lived on the island, and he was mildly surprised that I would buy a bag. All of his other customers were indigenous islanders.
When I got home, I didn't open them immediately. I put them in my briefcase and promptly forgot about them until the next day when I was at the office. I opened the bag, and was surprised to find the peanut shells charred from the roasting. I opened a peanut, and they were delicious. I love the smokey taste.
Monday night, I again walked home. I saw the peanut vendor, and fished out four quarters. I approached the vendor, and he said "I saw you comin' mon, and I knew you was buying. Respect man!" I was touched.
I took the peanuts home. The Lovely One had prepared a wonderful, spicy dinner, which we ate on the patio. As we waited for the entrees to finish cooking, we snacked on a bowl of woodfire roasted peanuts. They were a perfect appetizer. The peanut vendor may be onto a new trend -- woodfire blackened peanuts. If the Cajuns can do it with Blackened Fish, maybe this will catch on as well.