Green Chile on the Road

Yay 505 Chile!

Juice+Dogs

Breakfast in OKC was not only red fruit juices, but they started things out well. Mine was the tiny glass of grapefruit. I need to partake in grapefruit more. We found a dog park, which is kind of a fascinating study in human/canine interaction. The dogs were coolest with each other when their owners were cool about everyone hanging out. There was one harmless pesky puppy and one little guy that tried to pin everyone else down who was twice his size. A lot can be learned about human psychology in a dog park. More fun in Fort Worth watching Susan songswap with Elizabeth Wills. E-Dub, as I have taken to calling her with absolutely no permission from Elizabeth herself...is absolutely one of the most fantastic singer-songwriters I have ever had the pleasure of hearing. She's also a gem of a person and has helped us out here at Team SG quite a bit. Still getting the hang of this new iPhone 4...I love it. It takes pretty awesome photos. My night photos with the other one were usually pretty blurry. The fact that you can see this scene below without feeling carsick (desksick?) is a testament to how cool this phone is. One day I'll stop gushing but not any time soon.

Rules of Engagement: Road Food

From Georgia. I did not eat these. Time to blog about something silly but not silly at all. Feeding oneself is a topic everyone thinks about at least 3 times a day, probably more. After a year and a half of having many meals away from home and often purchased in 12-minute gas stops, I thought I'd expound upon some of the more obvious trends I've noted being (I know it's cliche) "on the road." You have to move fast. Sometimes we have the luxury of a few hours to spare before a show, sometimes our butts are clenched to get there on time. Either way, you're not wanting to hang out at the Pilot Truck Stop along I-35 any longer than you have to, so there are steps. You walk in, and you immediately assess, "DO THEY HAVE REAL FOOD?" Sometimes you luck out and there's a deli with actual warm food that hasn't been sitting there for 6 hours. Go there first. Choose quickly. Check the lettuce, make sure it's not brown. Be thankful you are eating greens that day. Fast food costs more at a truck stop. Usually a food and gas stop is combined, and there's not time to get gas and then drive somewhere and get food. Hence, it is handy if there is a Subway or something at the truck stop. However, be prepared to pay at least a dollar more than you would normally, and be prepared to wait. For some reason I find those gas station/fast food combo places take forever. And I tap my foot. And I get annoyed. Alternatively, there is no deli and you're not up for fried potato products from Arby's, so then what? Some truck stops have a "health food section" which means energy bars and trail mix. Go there first. But trail mix is caloric, so don't get a giant bag. Finding Clif Bars or Luna Bars is like manna, and I actually feel the whole grains coursing through my body. Sometimes it's a Cheerios cereal bar, and I feel the high fructose corn syrup in my veins. But tasty HFCS it is. SOMETIMES...you're without a deli, not desiring a Whopper, and there's no hippie granola bars in sight (this has happened to me in the southern states and in Wyoming, I don't know why). I have been known to pick up a Lunchable. I know. People are cringing. I get the "adult lunchable" which contains a duller package design, so that I don't feel like a 3rd grader when I check out. Sometimes the protein and minimal carb intake is worth it, even though it is a product with a name that actually means, "Able to be Lunched." However, not surprisingly, that's not an option either sometimes. That's when I go for the juice products. Liquid dinner is better than oily grease in a bag dinner. Check the bottle and pray there's more fruit than sugar in it. I prefer grapefruit. I love it if they have Odwalla Juice. Odwallas are super rare. If you find an Odwalla in a cold case there's a Clif Bar section not far, and possibly organic pretzels,and probably hemp necklaces at the checkout counter. Rejoice. If not, go for pulp. Fiber is key when you will eat bar food later. Experiment occasionally but not all the time. Go with what you know. We have seen every incarnation of every candy bar ever, covered in the white chocolate, dark chocolate, key lime flavored, cherry/strawberry/orange/cheesy/flaming/giant/purple/BBQ/aerodynamic. WE BOUGHT GIANT CHEETOS THAT TURNED OUR TONGUES BLUE. In Hot Springs, Arkansas. I remember that day well. GROSSEST THING: Deep fried peanuts in shells with Cajun Flavoring. What's not to love? I like peanuts, I like Cajuns, I like fried foods. But a peanut shell is like sawdust, and if you deep fry sawdust, you're still eating sawdust. We were in Georgia or Alabama or something. Seemed like a good idea, until the next stop when I threw them out. Susan wouldn't even eat one whole one. Tsk. In reality, we eat pretty well on the road. Between the kindness of our hosts and a lot of venues that serve good stuff, we do all right. But sometimes, you have to eat at a 7-11, and the faster you can triage the situation, get out, and get on the road...the faster you'll get to the next bathroom stop. And that's all there is to it.

A Baking Moment

You can't tell by the overexposed image but that is a PUMPKIN CHOCOLATE CHIP SCONE and yes, sometimes I bake things. Tasted good. I have my Thanksgiving table offering ready.

Keeping the Merch Girl Alive

Things I Like In New Mexico: Sopaipillas

Kids, maybe I just have not found the right place in Austin, but I don't think a good sopaipilla exists there. Hence, when I come to Albuquerque, I have to have a sopaipilla and honey fix from Los Cuates. This fine New Mexican establishment makes sopaipillas as big as your head. For those not yet initiated, they're basically fried dough, put in oil so hot it causes the dough to puff when cooking (we sometimes call them "sofa pillows" because of their fluffiness). They are delivered to your table with your meal, and the "correct" process for eating them is to poke a little hole in the sopaipilla and drizzle honey throughout. It's not generally a dessert...usually you eat it with your meal. The dough and honey do a good job of sopping up some of the residual heat from your green or red chile. (I have seen horrible crimes against sopaipillas that involved stuffing them with ice cream and covering them with powdered sugar...that's not cool. Simple is best). In fact, I got curious and checked on Wikipedia...here is what it says about why I can't find a good one just anywhere: "Thought to have originated in Albuquerque in the late 18th century, sopaipillas are served in nearly every New Mexican-style restaurant, and have spread into other areas where New Mexican and Tex-Mex cuisine is served. They are less common in restaurants specializing in other genres of Mexican food such as even in neighboring Arizona and Utah, and are practically unknown in Mexico itself." Interesting. Lesson: if you are passing through, stop and have one with your green or red chile. In the meantime, if any Austinites know of a good place for sopaipillas around town, let me know. If it passes the test your next one's on me.

Et cetera

Yes, I realize my photos have disintegrated into "look what I can do with stock effects!" land. But it's fun. This post, like most of the things I do, was brought to you by Starbucks. Note the new old logo on the cup. I like it. Notes: - Today is my last day at the county job. Thanks, county! Clover power. - My Chile Rant seems to have sparked a lot of hometown love over on Duke City Fix. I'm glad to know I'm not alone. (Warning: for you people not from Nuevo Mexico, there's some "out-of-stater" mocking...but come on, we're not threatening). - At 6 AM Thursday morning I am pretty sure either a bomb went off or a single giant crack of thunder made enough noise to wake me up AND freak me out in one second. I'm hoping I'm not the only one who heard that. (Update: I am not -- my coworker and neighbor did, too. Phew). - I got to see Susan Gibson and Shelley King songswap Wednesday night. That made me happy. - Dan's going on tour for 3 weeks. It makes me proud that his band gets to kick butt, and sad that he won't be in Austin! Thank goodness for internets and in his case, iPhone geekery. When he gets back we hit EP 1 mixing hard and also start woodshedding guitar, voice, writing, and all that good stuff. Excited! - Apparently my "experimentation in college" (that sounds a lot worse than it is) is fine and not all that weird...because a lovely commenter named Miss Tenacity says, "College is not necessarily the time to limit oneself to experiments with chile in typically sweet foods... I'm *ahem* well past college and I STILL put chile in my oatmeal, and I've made a wicked-good batch of green chile ice cream for a dinner party." Whaaaaaat? Can I come over? Can I can I? Awesome. - I am packing to go to Winnsboro! Woohoo! I promise to take decent road trip photos.

A Culinary Break: Let Me Explain Chile with an "E"

Hi. I'm a New Mexican. I can't help it, and I hope that's ok with you. Hailing from a state whose entire population is on par with that of Austin and it's surrounding cities, there's not a whole lot of us statistically speaking. Also, I think a whole bunch of us have moved to Texas because I keep meeting expat Burquenos and such. When I do meet a fellow New Mexican here in Austin, after the usual niceties are exchanged, we look at each other with a slightly glazed but still smug look in our eyes and say, "I miss chile." Then we look around and one of us will inevitably say, "Yeah, this stuff here is...it's not chile." Now, I'm not going to spend a blog post knocking Texas Chili. It's a part of Tex-Mex tradition and I respect all forms of regional cuisine, really I do. I'd just like to clear the air in terms of definitions and categorization. This came about after reading a very nice blog post about a Texan who lives in NYC, who made "Green Chili" based on a description her New Mexican friend gave her. Except the "Green Chili" turned out more like "Texas Red Chili" which is just...chili. It's a stew, it's got lots of junk in it like beans and stuff. It tastes good, but if you are going to talk chile, like...real New Mexican chile...THE CHILE PEPPER...follow me, dear ones. A Primer on New Mexico Chile: It's not "chili." Chili is that stew stuff with 10 million ingredients that Texans make (which I feel the need to reiterate because Texans are passionate about their cooking, too...I'm NOT knocking it). It's chile with an "e". The chile pepper. There are tons of types of chile peppers...serrano, habanero, poblano, etc. We eat a lot of the New Mexico Chile Pepper, which has various varieties called things like "The Big Jim" and the "Sandia." It's cute. But can I just stop and let it sink in that the New Mexico Chile Pepper is an actual plant and type of pepper. It's not a "cuisine" or a stew. It's a pepper. We eat them a lot. Then you get down to the actual state question (yes, our legislature passed a law giving us a State Question): Red or Green? No, really. I'm not lying. We care that much. All chile peppers start out green. If you let them ripen, they turn red. So whether your pepper is red or green depends on when it was picked. The flavors are distinct, the red having a decidedly more earthy, smoky flavor. People try and pick favorites, but I think your red or green choice is best made in context. I always love red moreso in the winter, and it makes the famous carne adovada dish what it is. Without red chile, carne adovada would just be...pork. Green seems to go well with...um...anything. No lie. (There may or may not be a story about me in college trying to mix red chile in with my morning oatmeal. I'm still convinced if I mixed it with the right amounts of sugar and cinnamon, I could come up with a tasty, heat-filled bowl. I still get mocked). Ok so back to my semantics lesson. We have ascertained that "red chile" and "green chile" can refer to peppers in their undoctored, on-the-plant form. Maybe because we're lazy and it's the Land of Mañana, but we also refer to the sauces we make out of these peppers as "red chile" and "green chile." This is where New Mexican definitions of what chile is really wrench away from Texas and just about everywhere else. To make green chile, roast the peppers until the skin turns black and separates from the "flesh" of the pepper. Remove most of the seeds if you'd still like your tongue to work after eating. Chop it up (don't puree it or blend it, just chop it). Put it on stuff. That's it; that's green chile. To make red chile, you'll need red chile pods which are dried and usually found in ristra form (great for decorating AND cooking!). You reconstitute the chiles in water, and this stuff is blended, as opposed to the green. Here's a step-by-step guide. That's it for red chile. You will note the distinct lack of words like "beans" and "pork" and "cumin" and "cayenne" and "entrails" or whatever people put in Texas Chili (stew). It's pure and simple and tastes like earth, if earth was delicious and made your sinuses drain in a sweet epiphany of heat. Did I mention New Mexicans are passionate about chile, both in pepper and sauce form? In college, Beth and I would even go to the International Fiery Foods Show, sampling row after row of burn-your-face-off goodness. Thankfully, they had a couple of ice cream booths to kill the pain. Phew. Thus ends my thesis on "chile" versus "chili." Any questions?

90 Days

I like time frames. I will talk endlessly about one year plans and five year plans and my To Do list for the day outlines nicely in my Moleskine notebook, complete with checkboxes waiting to be X’ed through with quiet satisfaction from an inky Pilot pen. This, of course, is dependent upon me actually looking at my list and then feeling motivated enough to do the things on it. Some days are better than others, is all I’ll say. However, in the world of scheming, I’ve found a most invaluable tool is the 90 day time frame. It’s not too short to be irrelevant, and it’s not too long that my brain shuts it out. I’ve embarked on a few projects using this 90 day reference, one of them being a 90 Day Vegan. My buddy Jamie and I grew up omnivores, but curious ones. Jamie announced over Christmas vacation last year that she was going to be a vegan for 90 days. I am such a tag-along that I begged in on the deal, and we did it. We made it, too. There were some harrowing times. I hang out in coffeehouses, where there are giant cases full of baked goods ripe for the picking. Jamie went to Oklahoma and lived on vegan road food for a week. Vegan road food, as you will discover if you try it, does not really exist. I think Jamie lived on air and told herself it was salad. Mmm. Anyway, we survived and I did a crappy job of it while touring around New Mexico, but I still eat (mostly) vegan. The 90 days allowed me to go through the initial “This is neato! I’m a vegan!” phase, the “Uh oh...what did I do?” phase, the “I CAN’T EVEN GROCERY SHOP I QUIT” phase, and then the last month and a half...blissful flow and acceptance. I felt good as a vegan. Things operated correctly in the J-Po digestive track. Vegetables are great. So are french fries. What more does one need? Now I look back and 3 months seems like a long time, but it went quickly. My new project is...TV in the closet for 90 days. It’s been so easy because I’ve been so busy I lost count of the days. I suspect this might just be a permanent arrangement. Does anyone want to buy a year-old television? Rarely used except for Seinfeld re-runs. Email me. I don’t deliver, unless you live a 90-day’s walk away. Then I just might try it.

Get me on the ROAD.

I love traveling. To be specific, I love driving. I like the fact that I can a) decide to go somewhere b) and get there myself. The trip from Austin to Albuquerque is 12 hours, and it's a great chance to see the Texas hill country fade to West Texas fields and oil well grasshoppers, which fades to New Mexican dirt and tumbleweeds, which then turns into the piney forests of the Rocky Mountains that Albuquerque is tucked behind. Flying is neat, but I'm not so much a fan of the waiting around, the herding, the peanuts, and then fact that someone else gets to drive. Also, they don't sell Bingles at the airport. The Onion writes about Red Velvet Bingles: Remember the urban legend about the ritzy hotel's $500 recipe for Red Velvet Cake, and how one crafty woman risked litigation by publishing the ingredients for everyone to copy? Well, here's the trickle-down: four-for-a-dollar Creme Filled Red Velvet Bingles. The name alone is thoroughly delightful, though the snack itself resembles Twinkies soaked in blood. Scariest-sounding ingredient: "Colored with pigments of annato." Worth the price? Disturbing reddish color aside, these are actually pretty good: moist and sweet, with just the right amount of "creme." Snap them up before the lawsuits ensue. God bless America.