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	<title>Comments on: Chotos, Pamplonas, &#038; Chaj&#225;</title>
	<atom:link href="http://www.saltshaker.net/20060218/chotos-pamplonas-chaja/feed" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml" />
	<link>http://www.saltshaker.net/20060218/chotos-pamplonas-chaja</link>
	<description>Casting a little flavor (and a few aspersions) on the world of food, drink, and life</description>
	<pubDate>Mon, 06 Oct 2008 19:09:07 +0000</pubDate>
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		<title>By: dan</title>
		<link>http://www.saltshaker.net/20060218/chotos-pamplonas-chaja#comment-66011</link>
		<dc:creator>dan</dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 12 Sep 2007 20:54:26 +0000</pubDate>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.saltshaker.net/20060218/chotos-pamplonas-chaja#comment-66011</guid>
		<description>Nope, you're the first to mention it - thanks! It's why I like when people take the time to comment - I learn new things every day.</description>
		<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Nope, you&#8217;re the first to mention it - thanks! It&#8217;s why I like when people take the time to comment - I learn new things every day.</p>
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		<title>By: gustaw</title>
		<link>http://www.saltshaker.net/20060218/chotos-pamplonas-chaja#comment-66010</link>
		<dc:creator>gustaw</dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 12 Sep 2007 20:50:22 +0000</pubDate>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.saltshaker.net/20060218/chotos-pamplonas-chaja#comment-66010</guid>
		<description>Dan,

There is a meaning of "La Celeste" you didn't know at the time (I don't know if someone told you after this entry).
It's the color of the Uruguayan Soccer National Team shirt and just to say "Celeste" with the feminine determinate article in front, it means "La (camiseta) Celeste", with the only meaning of the National shirt.
As Uruguay was twice soccer world champion and twice Olympic, it's a matter of national pride.

Regards,

Gustavo</description>
		<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Dan,</p>
<p>There is a meaning of &#8220;La Celeste&#8221; you didn&#8217;t know at the time (I don&#8217;t know if someone told you after this entry).<br />
It&#8217;s the color of the Uruguayan Soccer National Team shirt and just to say &#8220;Celeste&#8221; with the feminine determinate article in front, it means &#8220;La (camiseta) Celeste&#8221;, with the only meaning of the National shirt.<br />
As Uruguay was twice soccer world champion and twice Olympic, it&#8217;s a matter of national pride.</p>
<p>Regards,</p>
<p>Gustavo</p>
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		<title>By: SaltShaker &#187; Blog Archive &#187; Dos Chivitos</title>
		<link>http://www.saltshaker.net/20060218/chotos-pamplonas-chaja#comment-1542</link>
		<dc:creator>SaltShaker &#187; Blog Archive &#187; Dos Chivitos</dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 08 Sep 2006 21:50:49 +0000</pubDate>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.saltshaker.net/20060218/chotos-pamplonas-chaja#comment-1542</guid>
		<description>[...] Of course, wandering builds up an appetite, and as long as I was there, it seemed worth trying another chivito. This time I grabbed a proper sandwich one from a little stand in the middle of the main street, Los Farolitos, at 270 Av. Gral. Flores, where two women were busily making a variety of grilled sandwiches on a countertop grill. This was the real deal - exactly what I was looking for, and even cheaper (48 uruguayos, or $2) than the sit-down restaurant (though they had a few patio type tables and chairs on the sidewalk out front), sandwich style, and an array of toppings to choose from. Same exact &#8220;layout&#8221; - steak, bacon, ham, cheese, fried egg - and then various sauces and relishes. While it may not be what the doctor ordered - in fact between chivitos and pamplonas, it&#8217;s hard to imagine that Uruguayans don&#8217;t have rocketing high cholesterol, it was delicious! [...]</description>
		<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>[...] Of course, wandering builds up an appetite, and as long as I was there, it seemed worth trying another chivito. This time I grabbed a proper sandwich one from a little stand in the middle of the main street, Los Farolitos, at 270 Av. Gral. Flores, where two women were busily making a variety of grilled sandwiches on a countertop grill. This was the real deal - exactly what I was looking for, and even cheaper (48 uruguayos, or $2) than the sit-down restaurant (though they had a few patio type tables and chairs on the sidewalk out front), sandwich style, and an array of toppings to choose from. Same exact &#8220;layout&#8221; - steak, bacon, ham, cheese, fried egg - and then various sauces and relishes. While it may not be what the doctor ordered - in fact between chivitos and pamplonas, it&#8217;s hard to imagine that Uruguayans don&#8217;t have rocketing high cholesterol, it was delicious! [...]</p>
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	<item>
		<title>By: dan</title>
		<link>http://www.saltshaker.net/20060218/chotos-pamplonas-chaja#comment-225</link>
		<dc:creator>dan</dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 05 Mar 2006 10:56:44 +0000</pubDate>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.saltshaker.net/20060218/chotos-pamplonas-chaja#comment-225</guid>
		<description>My friend Roberto sent this on in regard to what is, apparently a shrine:

&lt;em&gt;By the way, I think the little doll you saw laying prostrate in a toy house surrounded by half filled bottles of beverages was a shrine to the &lt;strong&gt;Difunta Correa&lt;/strong&gt; - a woman who supposedly was seeking her husband and went trekking out west to find him but died in route, when people found her body, her infant son was still allegedly alive and suckling from one of her breasts - so I think she is an impromptu quasi-catholic patron of travelers.&lt;/em&gt;

A little research...

&lt;blockquote&gt;As legend has it, in the 1830s, Mar&#237;­a Antonia Deolinda Correa lived in Argentina's San Juan province - an area at the foot of the Andes well north of Patagonia. Her husband, Bustos, was taken by force and drafted into the private army of Juan Facundo Quiroga, a regional gaucho warlord. Deolinda was so distraught that she set out on foot, with her newborn son in her arms, to follow her husband. After days of walking through the desert without food or water, she finally collapsed and died. Days later, passing mule drivers found her body; amazingly, her infant son was still alive and nursing at her breast. The men buried her, and having found the name Correa on a pendant she was wearing, labeled her tomb "Difunta Correa", difunta being a word that literally means "defunct" but is more commonly used to mean "dead".

Years later, as her story spread, the locals began to think of her as a saint who had given her life for her child. And so, in this predominantly Catholic nation, people in need began to pray to her. When one man's prayers were miraculously answered, he built a small chapel to honor Deolinda. Shortly thereafter, someone brought an offering of water to this chapel, symbolizing the divine relief from thirst. &lt;strong&gt;Soon, small roadside shrines began to appear all over the country, some of them littered with hundreds of bottles of water brought either in supplication or in thanks.&lt;/strong&gt; Deolinda Correa has become the unofficial regional patron saint of travelers, farmers, and all those whose lives or livelihoods depend on a precarious supply of water. The monument built on the site where Deolinda is said to have died is now a large sanctuary - a hilltop where 17 chapels, and numerous smaller shrines, pay her honor. Over half a million pilgrims visit this site in the small town of Vallecito each year.&lt;/blockquote&gt;</description>
		<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>My friend Roberto sent this on in regard to what is, apparently a shrine:</p>
<p><em>By the way, I think the little doll you saw laying prostrate in a toy house surrounded by half filled bottles of beverages was a shrine to the <strong>Difunta Correa</strong> - a woman who supposedly was seeking her husband and went trekking out west to find him but died in route, when people found her body, her infant son was still allegedly alive and suckling from one of her breasts - so I think she is an impromptu quasi-catholic patron of travelers.</em></p>
<p>A little research&#8230;</p>
<blockquote><p>As legend has it, in the 1830s, Mar&iacute;­a Antonia Deolinda Correa lived in Argentina&#8217;s San Juan province - an area at the foot of the Andes well north of Patagonia. Her husband, Bustos, was taken by force and drafted into the private army of Juan Facundo Quiroga, a regional gaucho warlord. Deolinda was so distraught that she set out on foot, with her newborn son in her arms, to follow her husband. After days of walking through the desert without food or water, she finally collapsed and died. Days later, passing mule drivers found her body; amazingly, her infant son was still alive and nursing at her breast. The men buried her, and having found the name Correa on a pendant she was wearing, labeled her tomb &#8220;Difunta Correa&#8221;, difunta being a word that literally means &#8220;defunct&#8221; but is more commonly used to mean &#8220;dead&#8221;.</p>
<p>Years later, as her story spread, the locals began to think of her as a saint who had given her life for her child. And so, in this predominantly Catholic nation, people in need began to pray to her. When one man&#8217;s prayers were miraculously answered, he built a small chapel to honor Deolinda. Shortly thereafter, someone brought an offering of water to this chapel, symbolizing the divine relief from thirst. <strong>Soon, small roadside shrines began to appear all over the country, some of them littered with hundreds of bottles of water brought either in supplication or in thanks.</strong> Deolinda Correa has become the unofficial regional patron saint of travelers, farmers, and all those whose lives or livelihoods depend on a precarious supply of water. The monument built on the site where Deolinda is said to have died is now a large sanctuary - a hilltop where 17 chapels, and numerous smaller shrines, pay her honor. Over half a million pilgrims visit this site in the small town of Vallecito each year.</p></blockquote>
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