On Being Back "Home" in the Southwest

I have to admit that while we were back in El Paso, TX for a sad reason (my grandmother's funeral), the trip did have some highlights.

Since I found myself unexpectedly back home in the Southwest, I took advantage of some free time - Saturday afternoon after we'd checked into lodging on Ft. Bliss and most of the day on Sunday - when we'd had nothing planned.

Now, while almost all of Texas' massiveness is within the Central time zone, El Paso, at the westernmost tip, is in the Mountain time zone. So, of course, when we arrived, it was an hour earlier than we're used to in eastern Iowa (Central).

Needless to say, by the time we had arrived in El Paso, gotten our luggage (having been charged $25 per suitcase = $75 total!!), gotten our rental car, and checked into our quarters (on-post lodging, like a hotel, but cheaper than the "good" rates my family had gotten at the hotel near the airport), we were all quite hungry and ready for dinner.

 We'd just gotten off the plane. Liv was happy to be there.

 This is more or less the view we had from the parking lot. I love these mountains.

So, where would we go when in El Paso? Well, we went to a Mexican restaurant that my grandparents used to take me when I was younger. It's a local chain called Leo's. It's actually been a long, long time since I've been there. I think the last time I went, I'd gone with my grandparents ("Oma" and "Sir Rafa"), my uncle Hector, and a few other relatives.

Well, every time I go to this restaurant, I always get the chicken flautas, which are prepared like tacos (beef, chicken, or another filling inside a corn tortilla that's been fried), but instead of the typical "taco" shape, they're rolled up in the shape of flutes (hence the name flautas, which means "flutes" in Spanish). This dish always comes with refried beans and Spanish rice.

However, I was remembering the last time I'd been at this restaurant. My uncle Hector had ordered the chicken with mole sauce (often made with smoked chiles and chocolate). It's a really tasty Mexican dish. I enjoy it (and the last time I was there with my uncle, he'd let me have a bite of his - it was good!). But since we were in El Paso for a somber event, I needed some "comfort" food. What's my comfort food?

This:

Yep, the chicken flautas. I had to get them. I wouldn't have been satisfied if I'd ordered the chicken with mole sauce (however good it may be), because my comfort food in El Paso (if not my grandmother's homemade tacos) has to be flautas. 

And I was not disappointed. They were delicious; they were as good as I'd remembered. I am still thinking about them. (They looked a lot better than they do in this picture.)

Liv had ordered a kid's special with one beef taco and one enchilada with green chile sauce. Her meal also came with the beans and rice. She devoured it.

 Not the greatest pic, but good enough (the sun had set and the lighting in the restaurant was a bit dim for the iPhone camera).

Andrew? I think he ordered a "create your own combo" with a taco, enchilada, and . . . hmm. Something else I just can't remember.

To top off this delicious meal? Always sopaipillas. They're these delicious pillows of fried dough, puffy and hot, served with honey. You tear off a small corner and pour in a bit of honey and coat the inside of the "pillow." So. Good.

This is a not-so-good pic of the delicious pillows known as sopaipillas. Mmmm. 

After we'd eaten, I'd been chatting with our server. I'd said that my grandparents had taken me to Leo's (I think one of the other locations) numerous times when I was younger. And I always loved the flautas and sopaipillas. We'd laughed when she agreed with me that I probably wouldn't have been satisfied if I'd ordered the chicken with mole, as my "go to" meal was always flautas. And I'd found out that the owner of the car dealership where I'd gotten my vehicle (there in El Paso) was a regular at this restaurant and he always ordered the same thing, every time! (Just like me!)

Anyway, after we'd finished eating, we realized we were all exhausted from traveling and having eaten a filling meal, and the thought of the stress of the days ahead. We immediately went back to on-post lodging, got ready for bed, and settled in for the night.

But before going to sleep, Liv had to do one last thing.

She had to read in bed. (She's borrowing my mini-reading light that clips onto a book.) She and I had gone to the bookstore the day before we'd left. I bought the two of us one book each for the trip. She picked Charlotte's Web.

 In the next day or two, I'll share another exciting adventure we had on this trip back to the Southwest.

Memory Lane Friday - A Restaurant

This week's Memory Lane Friday topic is "A Restaurant."

Yes, I'm going to write about a Mexican restaurant. For some reason, I always seem to crave Mexican food more than any other kind.

Okay, so I was originally thinking of writing about my favorite Mexican restaurant in El Paso, TX, but then I decided I'd write about a different Mexican restaurant that Livie actually ate at when we lived in New Mexico. This restaurant is in historic Old Mesilla, NM; not only have I been there a few times with my grandparents, but I've taken Andrew there, and finally Livie. The restaurant's called La Posta.

When I was younger, I first went to Mesilla with my grandparents. It was just a day-trip from El Paso, where my grandparents lived, just about an hour's drive from their house. At some point during one (or more) of our trips, we actually ate at La Posta for lunch (the other times, we typically ate at the Double Eagle restaurant in another part of Old Mesilla's plaza).

La Posta, by the way, is on the National Register of Historic Buildings, and also has a colorful history, laying claim to such visitors as Billy the Kid and Pancho Villa!

Here's another interesting note: apparently, some time after the Civil War, the La Posta compound became a stop on the Butterfield Stagecoach Line.

So. . .after Andrew and I got married and were stationed in the greater Boston area, we ended up going to El Paso every year around Easter time to visit my grandparents for about 5-7 days. During our trips to El Paso, he and I typically took a day-trip to Mesilla, and inevitably we'd end up at La Posta for lunch. I always loved getting their beef flautas, which came with a side of refried beans, some rice, and guacamole.

We'd just finished a meal at La Posta when I snapped this photo. Andrew has allowed me to take a photo of him outside. By the way, I always loved the look of chile ristras - you can see one hanging behind Andrew's left shoulder. 

La Posta, Mesilla, NM, circa spring 2004.

 

 He's reluctant to get his photo taken a second time. Again, I love the chile ristras hanging outside La Posta.

La Posta, Mesilla, NM, circa spring 2004.

Then, in the spring of 2006 when Livie was about 4 months old, Andrew and I ended up getting orders for an Air Force base in Alamogordo, NM. Well, instead of being hundreds of miles away, and only being able to head to Mesilla when visiting my grandparents in El Paso, we were now only about an hour and a half away by car. We didn't get to Old Mesilla too often since Livie was just a baby, but we did get there to visit once in a while, while living in Alamogordo.

And during our last weekend living in New Mexico, we took one last trip to Mesilla for one final touristy trip. Of course, we had to take Livie (1.5 years old at the time) to La Posta for lunch, since we weren't sure when or if we'd ever make it back.

I figured Livie would like it because it had some fun stuff in the lobby area, as well as fun décor in its various dining areas. In the lobby, not only did they have a gift shop, they also had trees, a skylight, and a huge cage with brightly colored parrots! They also had a fish tank or two, one of which had piranhas, if I remember correctly. Plus, the trees in there had lights wrapped around them for a festive ambiance.

Andrew and I usually ate in what's called the "Lava" room, a bright room with natural light and trees. But when we took Livie, we ate in "The Bunkhouse" room. It had lots of lights and stuff for Livie to look at while we ate. I, of course, ordered the beef flautas, as usual. I don't remember what Andrew ordered. But for Livie? We ordered her a quesadilla from the kids' menu. It came with refried beans, which she gobbled up, and a milk. To this day, she still loves beans, by the way.

 Baby Liv's enjoying the lights and décor at La Posta.

La Posta, Mesilla, NM, circa 12 August 2007.

We're in the lobby, waiting for our table. Behind Andrew's shoulder, you can see a fish tank.

La Posta, Mesilla, NM, circa 12 August 2007.

I don't remember what Livie's pointing at, but it must have been very interesting. Oh, and look at that shaggy hair!

La Posta, Mesilla, NM, circa 12 August 2007.

Here we are, waiting for our food. I'm not sure why, but we kept Livie's little "La Posta" cup as a souvenir. It's got a color drawing of La Posta's exterior on it.

La Posta, Mesilla, NM, circa 12 August 2007.

I always enjoyed La Posta's food; I remember it being delish! I have such fond memories of going to La Posta with my grandparents, with Andrew, and finally with Livie. I'm glad my last trip there was with Livie so we can say she's been there. There's just something fun about going there.

Memory Lane Friday is hosted by Two Bears Farm and the Three Cubs. Please click on the button below to read Two Bears' post, and the rest of this week's Memory Lane Friday posts:

Come back next week when the topic is "New Shoes."

Memory Lane Friday - The Foods I Loved

Today's Memory Lane Friday topic is "The Foods I Loved" and you know I'm going to have to talk about my Oma and her cooking. Her cooking is what I always consider "comfort food." Her food is what I always crave when I want something good. If I need Mexican food, hers is what satisfies the craving. As a matter of fact, Oma's cooking is what I craved when I was pregnant with Liv. Oma's cooking and tamales.

Oma has always had this amazing cooking. It was always homemade. It didn't matter if it was breakfast or dinner. 

But since breakfast is the first meal of the day, I will begin with a typical Oma breakfast. I am salivating, just thinking about it. She used to make huevos con chorizo for us sometimes - once a week, or sometimes even twice a week. Or more, if we asked her for it.

She had these great flour tortillas that she'd warm up on this round cast-iron thing on top of the gas burner. You could smell the flour tortillas warming up, with a warm, cozy, bready, flour-y scent wafting through the air. And the chorizo? It was the Mexican type, not the Spanish or Portuguese type (which was more of a hard salami type of sausage). The chorizo she used would come out of the casing before being cooked, and as it browned, would crumble like ground beef. It was the Peyton brand chorizo that apparently is only available in West Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, and a handful of military commissaries (which included Hanscom Air Force Base, where Andrew and I were stationed for 4 years).

And then you'd hear the sssssss of the chorizo links as they sizzled and browned in the skillet. This is when it started smelling divine. Mmmmm. Spicy (like cumin, not burn-your-mouth-with-chiles spicy), sausage-like, and mouth-watering.

While the chorizo was browning, you'd hear the tsk-tsk-tsk of Oma's fork as she whisked the eggs in a bowl. As soon as the chorizo was browned just right, she'd pour the whisked eggs into the skillet over the chorizo and begin to scramble them all together.

And then it was all ready. A heap of huevos con chorizo on your plate, flour tortilla folded in half on the side of the plate. Fork in hand, I remember scooping the huevos con chorizo into the unfolded, warmed flour tortilla, rolling it up into a burrito, and then taking a bite. Mmmmm. It was eggy, full-flavored (because of the chorizo), and full of carbs (the tortilla) to balance out the protein (and fat) from the eggs and chorizo.

This was pure breakfast heaven. And now I'm very hungry.

When I lived in Tucson and New Mexico (and when I realized I could get the same chorizo at the commissary in the Boston area),  I'd make huevos con chorizo, too. Sure, I watched her make this dish, and it tasted basically the same, but hers was always better. I think it's because, as she always says, she "made it with a lot of love."

Then there was lunch or dinner. She used to make cheese enchiladas on occasion, and while I loved her red sauce for its rich flavor and thought that her enchiladas were tasty, I found that they were a little heavy on the chopped onion (which she always kind of rough chopped - the onions were never really chopped finely enough) and I'd get heartburn. It was weird. I could always handle spicy food, but too much onion? My stomach and esophagus couldn't handle it.

My favorite lunch or dinner menu in Oma's repertoire? Homemade tacos and homemade beans. She told me step by step how to make her tacos, and while I tried to make them on occasion, they NEVER came out right. I'm not sure I had the technique just right.

Oma would brown ground beef, season them just right (salt, pepper, cumin), saute them with diced potatoes, and then stuff the mixture into corn tortillas (fried briefly in oil and then folded while still warm and malleable). At least, this is what I remember.

After assembling a bunch of tacos and setting them on a cookie sheet lined with foil, she'd stick them in the oven for a little while to make sure they were all warmed and hot enough to eat.

And the beans? Mmmm.

Making her world-famous beans was a process. Not hard - just time-consuming. She'd soak pinto beans overnight. The next day, she'd cook them in water seasoned with garlic salt and onion powder. When they were soft, she'd drain some water, saving some so that when she mashed the beans, they wouldn't get dried out. Then she'd brown some chorizo in a big skillet. When it was browned, she'd add the mashed beans and cook them all together so the flavors would blend. And then she'd add shredded Monterrey Jack cheese on the top.

Two or three tacos topped with shredded Monterrey Jack cheese, tomatoes, shredded lettuce, and a side of her world-famous beans. Oh, and her delicious rice. I have now idea how to make that. Note to self: get her rice recipe from her next time I see her.

So there it is. There are the the foods I loved growing up . . . and the foods I still love. And now I am hungry.

Okay, so I don't have any photos of my Oma while she's actually cooking something. But I have a number of photos of her, so I'm going to add a few here:
 

This photo was taken way before my time, but here's my Oma when she was a young woman.

Here's Oma at the Blue Ridge Circle house. This must've been in the early '70s - maybe '73?

My Uncle H. used to say this was Oma's "Ann Landers hairstyle." By the way, I don't know why/how the couch turned out that funky maroon color in the photo (it was actually an olive green), and how Oma's dress turned into such a vibrant purple. Ah, well. At least it's a great photo of her smiling.

So here I am with my Oma and Sir Rafa. We're not in El Paso, but we're together. I believe they were visiting us when we lived in Wilmette, IL.

Here's Oma and baby Livie in Oma's kitchen. This is in the beloved Mountain Walk Drive home in El Paso.

Please click on the box below to read this week's other Memory Lane Friday entries:

After checking out today's other entries, be sure to come back next week when the Memory Lane Friday topic is "A Ceremony."

Dreaming of Tucson

I've been homesick for the Southwest lately. Not sure why. Maybe it's partly because it was the uncle's birthday the other day (he would've been 55), and he lived in the Southwest for so long. That might be one small part of the reason.

Another reason? I've been flipping through Anne Hillerman's book, Tony Hillerman's Landscape. It contains such beautiful photography of that land that I love, the American Southwest. I get this real ache, this physical manifestation of saudade when I look through that beautiful book.

Plus, I have started re-reading Tony Hillerman's The Blessing Way. I first learned of Tony Hillerman's beautiful books way back in 2000, when I loved lived in Tucson. His Joe Leaphorn/Jim Chee books take place in the Southwest, and through his words, I can picture that dry, dusty landscape I used to call home.

And then there's my Food Network magazine. I received a gift subscription from my mother- and father-in-law for Christmas. It's been a great gift. I've enjoyed flipping through it, learning about tricks in the kitchen to make meals taste better.

The current issue has recipes by Aaron Sanchez - including one for making authentic Mexican tortillas at home, from scratch. Of course, that makes me miss the Southwest. And in thinking of Tucson in particular, I think of a restaurant where I enjoyed eating on occasion - even having eaten there once with Andrew. It is a place called La Parrilla Suiza (I frequented the one on E. Speedway Blvd).

I've also been flipping through old photos I took in Tucson.

I'm going to post them now and smile, remembering that land I love so much . . . not just Tucson, but the Southwest as a whole. I'll get back there one day. I'm sure of it.

Here is Seven Falls. I took the photo when it had its characteristic waterfalls due to the water from melting snow. Photo circa Feb 2001:

I hiked there one day with a friend of mine who was also in the Air Force. We were both stationed there (at Davis-Monthan Air Force Base) at the same time.

Here's a heart-shaped tuna cactus from a different hiking trip. Photo circa May 2001:

This is Andrew on our hike to Seven Falls. Photo circa November 2001:

This is some beautiful landscape near Seven Falls, right around where I took the above photo of Andrew. Photo circa November 2001:

This is me, once we'd arrived at Seven Falls (the falls, now dry this time of year would be behind Andrew, who's taking the photo). Note the A-10 (the Warthog) shirt I'm wearing. Photo circa November 2001:

Here's the dry Seven Falls (scroll up to the first photo and compare what it looks like when there's sufficient water). This is what was behind Andrew when he took the above photo of me. Photo circa November 2001:

 Here's more beautiful landscape that I love, showcasing the saguaro cacti, local to the area. Photo circa November 2001:

 It's been a while, but I'm pretty sure this was taken at the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum, which Andrew and I visited one day. A little while later, we saw a thunderstorm on the horizon. It was an awesome sight, watching it creep closer. We made it inside before it soaked us. And then it traveled off into the horizon, dissipating into the breeze. Too bad I didn't get a photo of that.

Andrew is posing near a tuna cactus plant at the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum. Photo circa November 2001:

Again, another photo from the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum. Photo circa November 2001:

Now, how great is that scenery?! THAT is what I am homesick for - the arid beauty. The food. The scents, the sounds. And most importantly, while I'm "suffering" through spring allergies . . . the lack of pollen and stuff that make me (and Livie) have allergic reactions.

Chicken Posole Recipe - Real Simple Recipes

Chicken Posole Recipe | Real Simple Recipes

I just got this "Chicken Posole" recipe sent to my e-mail. I'm going to have to try it one day.

In New Mexico, posole is a stew that is traditionally eaten around Christmas. Oftentimes, it's made with pork. But this chicken recipe looks tasty and worthy of being tried. Hopefully the family will like it, too. Of course, it will probably make me feel saudade for New Mexico, but oh well. If the recipe ends up being yummy, it will be worth feeling a little saudade for it.

Now I'm craving Mexican food, especially tamales. Here's why: typically, tamales are also prepared and eaten around Christmas in Mexican culture, as well as in the Southwest (and probably other parts of the country). So, thinking of posole made me think of traditional Christmas food, and that, of course, made me think of tamales. Mmmmm . . .

I'm Thinking of Going Back

A few months ago, I was given a gift - one that allowed me to travel to sunny, dusty, hot, wonderful Mexico, Arizona, and El Paso, TX, places I would gladly visit again, if I had the opportunity.

Let me give you a little background first. See, I spent the summer of 1993 at Gettysburg College participating in summer theater. There are a few of us from that summer spent in one of the nation's most historic locations who are now friends on Facebook.

Months ago, one of them, Molly, would occasionally have a status update that caught my curiosity. She was on a journey that sounded so fantastic, I desperately wanted to participate, too.

However, it wasn't a physical journey; she was actually taking a trip through an amazing book called The Hummingbird's Daughter, written by Luis Alberto Urrea. Her mom had read this book, enjoyed it, and passed it along, sure that she would also enjoy it. 

When she'd post "Hummingbird" related status updates, I would think, Hmmm, I'm not sure what she's talking about exactly, but it sounds like I want to be a part of it, too. So one day I asked her what she was reading, and finally I had both the title and author's name.

She also said that while she was in the midst of reading it, she thought of me, absolutely positive that I would become as engrossed in the book as she'd been. Partly because of the characters' cultures, their language, and possibly the locations . . . if I remember correctly, these were some of the reasons she thought of me and why she thought I'd get into the book.

Excited about reading a book someone thought I'd love, I promptly went online to see if my local library had it. I was so disappointed when I found out they did not. But I could do an inter-library loan. Sure, it would cost some money and take an undisclosed amount of time before I received it, but there was hope that, before 2009 was ushered into the history books, I'd have a copy to read.

Fortunately for me, I'd made a comment on Facebook about having to wait for this book that Molly enjoyed so tremendously. She promised me that she'd send me her copy, as she'd recently finished reading it. So I waited, anxiously.

Finally, I received it!

And I eagerly jumped into it. For the next few weeks, I was intertwined with these characters - Teresita, Don Tomás, Huila, Don Lauro . . . I was thoroughly enjoying being a part of their lives.

Now, I'm not going to talk about specific details of the book itself, but rather, the thoughts and memories it evoked in me. There was something absolutely magic about it, and not necessarily just the mysticism involved in the storyline itself. I mean something else.

For example, I'd read about what they ate for breakfast . . . the warmed tortillas, the huevos con chorizo, beans . . . and I was transported back to my grandmother's kitchen in El Paso, TX. I remembered the smells - that fabulous, delicious scent filling the house with the hope that our delectable breakfast would be ready soon.

I remembered a discussion in the book about flour tortillas versus corn tortillas, and I thought about how I love flour tortillas, warmed, slightly toasty, with huevos con chorizo . . . and prefer the corn variety with my Oma's refried beans.

This food, this Mexican food that I equate with my grandmother's cooking, her home, her endless hospitality - this food is something I always find delicious (if prepared properly - none of that fake Tex-Mex they TRY to pass off as "Mexican food"). And it was something I craved when I was pregnant with Olivia. It makes me miss my home in El Paso with my grandparents, my homes in Arizona and New Mexico, the lands of turquoise, hot, dry heat, and natural beauty. 

There was talk in the book about javelinas, coyotes, arroyos, paloverde trees, and I was immediately back in Tucson, AZ, where I was stationed for two years. While living in the great state of Arizona, I'd occasionally see coyotes in an arroyo while on a  trail ride with Cotton, my Appendix Quarter Horse; once in a while, I'd see them if I were driving somewhere at dawn or dusk. They seemed to come out in packs in the twilight hours. And I'd see javelinas on the rare chance I had the opportunity to visit the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum.

So many other things in the book seemed so real as I read through page after page. One night, I even dreamed I was in a dream-scene from the book! Now that was fun!

And this is what made this book so magical, so wonderful to me. It was a literary trip to lands that I love, the Southwest, my onetime home, and to Mexico, a place I've visited long ago, but would gladly visit again.

I read this book, sent to me after Molly finished it, on the promise I'd pass it along to someone else who wanted to read it. I did that; I loaned it to my Mom. However, she had none of the magical experiences I had with it. She has since finished it and given it back to me.

And because I loved the magic of this book, and it's once again in my possession, I'm thinking about going on it's adventure again. Maybe not too soon, but maybe around springtime. Just maybe.

Mmmmm . . .

I sure do love Mexican food. Real Mexican food. In particular, homemade Mexican food. I have no problem eating it on a regular basis - that is, if I had it readily available on a regular basis. In fact, authentic Mexican food is what I craved when I was pregnant with Olivia - especially authentic tamales, fresh guacamole, my grandmother's tacos.

Today I had the treat of walking into my mother's house and smelling homemade Mexican food - Spanish rice, enchiladas, homemade red sauce. It's making my mouth water just smelling this cooking food's deliciousness wafting all through the house.

See, my mother hired a wonderful lady, Candi, from El Paso, TX. Candi came up to my parents' house to take care of my ailing grandmother since she's here now, permanently. My grandmother has Alzheimer's and my mom is her legal guardian; it's much easier for my mom to care for her when she's not hundreds of miles away in Texas, so she's here in Iowa. Plus, she gets top notch medical care.

Anyway, Candi's here and she is making these enchiladas and Spanish rice. It smells SO good, and I'm sure it will be equally tasty.

And since I love Mexican food so much, it will be a treat to eat a homemade meal.

The only thing better than walking into my mother's house when it smells like Mexican food, is walking into my grandmother's house (her former house in El Paso where she lived for so many years with my grandfather) when she was cooking something, such as her homemade tacos, the very ones I craved when I was pregnant.

Yes, the smell of homemade Mexican food takes me back to El Paso and Mountain Walk Drive, where my grandparents lived for so long. Not only does it make me really hungry, it makes me feel that all too familiar feeling of saudade, remembering all the wonderful (and occasionally not-so-wonderful) times in that home, and knowing that it will never be that way again. Except in memories, and those of us storytellers, who keep the memories alive.