Monday, November 09, 2009
Wimping out
OK, so I seem to be wimping out on this Gourmet project. There are a few reasons: first, I picked the wrong issue. The June 2009 issue of Gourmet is centered around a huge Mexican feast for 30 people, and I realized (too late) that it was completely impractical for me to try to make most of the recipes unless I was actually planning to have a Mexican feast for 30, which I wasn't. Second, the season is now wrong for summer recipes, although I may try some of the grilled steak recipes now that I have 50 pounds of beef in the freezer. Finally, there are just too many mushroom recipes, and it bugs me that I'm not going to make them. I don't like mushrooms, so what am I supposed to do about a recipe for portobello burgers? Make it and give it away? I suppose I could do that, but I'm not sure if I'm quite there yet. Also, I am now addicted to my Quick and Easy Vietnamese cookbook, and I can't bring myself to focus on Gourmet. Vietnamese is so much more interesting to me right now. Maybe I'll try again next summer. For now, I'm taking some time to consider what "commitment" really means to me.
Ballet and hot lava
For some reason I've been finding it hard to write about Melina lately. I think it's because she's constantly changing - it's like trying to describe the flight of a dragonfly around a lake. Up, down, around, stop, go backward. Like trying to nail Jello to a wall, although that sounds a little too violent.
Melina has a few new friends that she's been hanging out with. Currently she seems totally in love with the neighbor boy Quinn, and wants to be with him constantly. She has been demanding to see her old friend Amanda as well, and yesterday she spent a few hours playing with her friend Josie. This sort of play is always full of ups and downs. At one point the friends will be hugging and giggling, or concentrating on their little made-up dramas, and the next moment one will declare that she (or he) will never, ever, play with the other again. It's kind of exhausting to watch.
Melina is also going through a "scared" phase. As in, scared to go to the bathroom alone; scared to get dressed alone in her bedroom; and scared for *me* to go to the bathroom alone. From what I've observed, this is a normal phase, but it is exasperating because it means that I can never get more than 15 feet away from her at any time. On the other hand, she is also in a very affectionate phase, full of hugs and kisses. She assures me that she loves me (and her dada) all the way up to Jupiter, around Jupiter eleventy times, all the way back down to the earth, through the hot lava, out through China, and back through the earth to our house. (Speaking of hot lava, I've noticed that four-year-olds all seem to be obsessed with hot lava for some reason. It comes up regularly in conversation).
Ballet class started a few weeks ago, and remains very popular. Melina was so upset that ballet class was over (after half an hour) that I signed her up for the ballet-and-tumbling class right afterward. (I was running out of ideas for things to do anyway). So now on Fridays we have about 2 hours of nonstop ballet, dancing, tumbling and random chaos. The ballet teacher teaches - get this - more than 30 classes a week. I think she said 39. I can't imagine. Each ballet class is like herding cats - gently chiding, guiding, encouraging, rebuking, drawing out, and generally leading a small crowd of mostly pink-tutu'd preschoolers who all have their own agenda. It's something to see. Melina loves it, except when she gets tired. She is also still taking swim classes, which she also loves, although I am getting tired of the routine. So hard to make everyone happy!
Melina has a few new friends that she's been hanging out with. Currently she seems totally in love with the neighbor boy Quinn, and wants to be with him constantly. She has been demanding to see her old friend Amanda as well, and yesterday she spent a few hours playing with her friend Josie. This sort of play is always full of ups and downs. At one point the friends will be hugging and giggling, or concentrating on their little made-up dramas, and the next moment one will declare that she (or he) will never, ever, play with the other again. It's kind of exhausting to watch.
Melina is also going through a "scared" phase. As in, scared to go to the bathroom alone; scared to get dressed alone in her bedroom; and scared for *me* to go to the bathroom alone. From what I've observed, this is a normal phase, but it is exasperating because it means that I can never get more than 15 feet away from her at any time. On the other hand, she is also in a very affectionate phase, full of hugs and kisses. She assures me that she loves me (and her dada) all the way up to Jupiter, around Jupiter eleventy times, all the way back down to the earth, through the hot lava, out through China, and back through the earth to our house. (Speaking of hot lava, I've noticed that four-year-olds all seem to be obsessed with hot lava for some reason. It comes up regularly in conversation).
Ballet class started a few weeks ago, and remains very popular. Melina was so upset that ballet class was over (after half an hour) that I signed her up for the ballet-and-tumbling class right afterward. (I was running out of ideas for things to do anyway). So now on Fridays we have about 2 hours of nonstop ballet, dancing, tumbling and random chaos. The ballet teacher teaches - get this - more than 30 classes a week. I think she said 39. I can't imagine. Each ballet class is like herding cats - gently chiding, guiding, encouraging, rebuking, drawing out, and generally leading a small crowd of mostly pink-tutu'd preschoolers who all have their own agenda. It's something to see. Melina loves it, except when she gets tired. She is also still taking swim classes, which she also loves, although I am getting tired of the routine. So hard to make everyone happy!
Sunday, November 08, 2009
Domesticity
OK, so I haven't posted in what, about four months? Let's just ignore that and move forward, shall we?
The season has turned, and with it, our attention turns to domesticity. It's always amazing to me how my life changes so abruptly around October. In the early days of October we still talk about attempting one last backpacking trip - trying to extend our summer adventures as long as possible. By the end of October the focus has completely shifted to Halloween, cooking, baking, and domestic construction projects (for Jeff). I suddenly get the itch to make cheese, limoncello, fruitcake, and chocolate chip cookies. I really wonder what my life would be like if we lived in place without seasons. I think I would feel completely at a loss with the sun shining and the palm trees waving outside the window in November.
As part of this sudden domestic energy, I bought an eighth of a local (<100 mile), grass-fed, organic, lesbian-raised cow. I figure it is pretty much the most politically correct meat I could possibly buy, although of course it would be more politically correct not to buy meat at all. But I do like a good hamburger once in a while. So now we have about 50 lbs of meat in the freezer in our basement: 12 lbs of hamburger, 3 huge long summer sausages, about 6 lbs of Octoberfest bratwurst, many different varieties of steaks, probably a few roasts, and stew meat and soup bones. I never, ever eat steaks, and I don't have the slightest idea how to make a good steak, so that will be a challenge. Also, I put in an order at Afton Field Farm in Corvallis (also <100 miles!) and bought three whole chickens, three pounds of ground lamb, some sliced ham, and some honey. Vegan we ain't.
I have mixed feelings about all this meat; one hand I know we would be eating meat anyway, so I might as well buy local meat from animals that until recently were quite happy. It is also healthier meat, since it is all grass fed and relatively organic. But I wonder if raising Melina around all this meat is going to make her into too much of a carnivore. She already knows (and seems completely unphased by the fact) that hamburger comes from dead cows and chicken comes from dead chickens like the kind we have in our backyard. (In contrast to my acquaintance whose daughter cried for half an hour and refused to eat meat after she discovered the facts.)
Whatever the outcome - either we get completely sick of beef and never eat it again, or we become dedicated carnivores with high Omega 3 levels - we will somehow need to slowly work through all of the little white-paper-wrapped packages in our freezer. I made hamburgers the other night as a first volley in the effort, and they were fantastic.
Speaking of chickens, our chickens are not laying now at all. Dolley looks really bad these days, with half her feathers missing and pointy quills sticking out everywhere. It has been raining nonstop for days and the girls are all huddled up in their coop looking miserable. At times like this I'm glad they have small brains.
The season has turned, and with it, our attention turns to domesticity. It's always amazing to me how my life changes so abruptly around October. In the early days of October we still talk about attempting one last backpacking trip - trying to extend our summer adventures as long as possible. By the end of October the focus has completely shifted to Halloween, cooking, baking, and domestic construction projects (for Jeff). I suddenly get the itch to make cheese, limoncello, fruitcake, and chocolate chip cookies. I really wonder what my life would be like if we lived in place without seasons. I think I would feel completely at a loss with the sun shining and the palm trees waving outside the window in November.
As part of this sudden domestic energy, I bought an eighth of a local (<100 mile), grass-fed, organic, lesbian-raised cow. I figure it is pretty much the most politically correct meat I could possibly buy, although of course it would be more politically correct not to buy meat at all. But I do like a good hamburger once in a while. So now we have about 50 lbs of meat in the freezer in our basement: 12 lbs of hamburger, 3 huge long summer sausages, about 6 lbs of Octoberfest bratwurst, many different varieties of steaks, probably a few roasts, and stew meat and soup bones. I never, ever eat steaks, and I don't have the slightest idea how to make a good steak, so that will be a challenge. Also, I put in an order at Afton Field Farm in Corvallis (also <100 miles!) and bought three whole chickens, three pounds of ground lamb, some sliced ham, and some honey. Vegan we ain't.
I have mixed feelings about all this meat; one hand I know we would be eating meat anyway, so I might as well buy local meat from animals that until recently were quite happy. It is also healthier meat, since it is all grass fed and relatively organic. But I wonder if raising Melina around all this meat is going to make her into too much of a carnivore. She already knows (and seems completely unphased by the fact) that hamburger comes from dead cows and chicken comes from dead chickens like the kind we have in our backyard. (In contrast to my acquaintance whose daughter cried for half an hour and refused to eat meat after she discovered the facts.)
Whatever the outcome - either we get completely sick of beef and never eat it again, or we become dedicated carnivores with high Omega 3 levels - we will somehow need to slowly work through all of the little white-paper-wrapped packages in our freezer. I made hamburgers the other night as a first volley in the effort, and they were fantastic.
Speaking of chickens, our chickens are not laying now at all. Dolley looks really bad these days, with half her feathers missing and pointy quills sticking out everywhere. It has been raining nonstop for days and the girls are all huddled up in their coop looking miserable. At times like this I'm glad they have small brains.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Gourmet Project: Shrimp Rub and Basil Caesar Salad
Before I start, I have to mention Cooking the Books, a website dedicated to "cook-through bloggers." Wow, I had no idea I was in such good company (or that there was a name for this type of effort). These are folks who are cooking their way through entire 1000-page cookbooks, and make my small effort seem puny by comparison... although I must say it's hard enough for me. I've been tempted to bail several times, or switch over to another issue of Gourmet (the August issue has some fantastic recipes). But since part of this effort is to practice the art of commitment, I am going to stick through it even if I have to give away the mushroom burgers I make... because I really don't like mushrooms.So yesterday, when it was 101 degrees outside and 91 in our kitchen, I worked my way through the shrimp spice rub (#6) and basil Caesar salad (#7).
The shrimp spice rub should have been easy, except once again I didn't read the recipe the entire way through (when will I ever learn?). I added all the ingredients together and then realized that the coriander was supposed to be toasted. It took me about 20 minutes to fish the coriander seeds out of the other spices (it is possible). After that, it was all downhill until I tried to figure out what to actually do with the rub. How do you rub slimy shrimp? Do you rub them before you grill them, or after? Turns out you just mix the shrimp with the rub before cooking them, just like a marinade. I'm not actually a huge shrimp fan (shrimp are insects, after all) but this was pretty good. I will use the leftover rub with fish - halibut would be good.
The basil Caesar salad was great, despite the fact that you have to make your own croutons (which is really easy, but I could have done without turning on the oven at all.) It calls for a raw egg, so I used one of our girls' eggs - Dolly, I think. I figure that if any of us were going to get salmonella from our chickens, we would have already done so.
All in all, a great combination for a hot day. We ate outside on the deck; Melina (as I expected) refused the shrimp and had a lamb patty with bread instead.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Gourmet project: Ketchup
I haven't given up on my goal of making everything in the June 2009 issue of Gourmet, although I've been sidetracked by a new Vietnamese cookbook I bought. I might have to make everything in there, too. Last night I made Gourmet's ketchup recipe for our work barbeque on Wednesday. It was pretty easy to make, although there were a lot of spices to round up. I'm not quite done - I still need to puree it. It is much more sweet and spicy than regular ketchup (more like a pureed chutney, which is probably how ketchup originally started out). If I made it again, I would add less sugar. I'm sure I'll get some reviews at the BBQ Wednesday.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Mexico
Our first adventure of the summer was a trip to Mexico this June. For some reason that is still not completely clear to me, we decided to go stay at a resort in Cabo San Lucas. We're not really the "resort" type - that is, I have always sort of looked down on people who stay in resorts as lacking adventurousness. But when you have a four-year-old, resorts start to sound a lot more attractive. And we had friends who recommended this one, so we went.
We flew into Cabo San Lucas (I refuse to call it "Cabo") on a clear, hot day. Almost every day there is clear and hot, so it wasn't unusual. When we deplaned (using a rolling stairway), I was struck by the sudden brightness and heat. We had heard that we would be tackled by timeshare salesmen as soon as we deplaned, but that wasn't the case. Looking back, I think we went out the wrong exit - or perhaps the right one. Anyway, I had practiced saying "we already have one" in Spanish (something like "ya tenemos una") but I didn't need to say it that day.
For some reason, on every single leg of our trip there and back, we were seated in the very first row behind first class. This happy arrangement meant that we were first off the plane and therefore first in line to go through customs, which is a huge time saver. Customs was painless in both directions; both Mexican and U.S. officials were cheerfully matter-of-fact and uninterested in our personal details.
After arriving, we went to pick up our rental at Europcar. Melina and I wandered around looking at the Mexican sodas in the refrigerated case and the ants crawling in the sidewalk. They were very fast ants, much faster than their Oregonian counterparts. Meanwhile, Jeff was exposed to our first (of many) timeshare pitches, and also his first experience handing over a little bit of cash under the table for a reduction in the weekly rental car rate. We ended up with a pretty good deal for our little red hot chili pepper car, although there was some confusion about whether we really had insurance. All the while, I was happy to fall back into that traditional gender role that says that the man makes the car insurance arrangements while the woman takes care of the child. It can be pretty convenient.
We drove into the city - first past mountains and big (saguaro?) cactuses, and then past a jumble of resorts, shacks, construction sites, and chain stores. There is an Applebee's in Cabo San Lucas. And a Home Depot (heaven forbid). And a Costco, which we went to despite my distaste for going to a Costco in Mexico (isn't that like going to a McDonald's in Bali? I mean, what's the point?). But we had a week of groceries to stock up on, and a Costco card, so it made sense. I was relieved to see that the Costco sold large quantities of tortillas.
And then we were at the resort - the Villa del Arco. It is a large, luxurious, brand spanking new place with several pools (one with a pirate ship in the middle, with a snack bar on it). We had to sit though another time share pitch, right off, which was annoying; but the staff were helpful and the place was beautiful. We had a one-bedroom suite, and Jeff's mom (who arrived the next day) had another one-bedroom suite next door. It was clean, spacious, attractive... not terribly soulful, or quaint, but very comfortable.
The next several days were spent mainly by the pool. On Monday we picked Jeff's mom up from the airport, made another trip to a grocery store (and endured another time share pitch from a persistent person working the tourists there), marveled at all the interesting groceries, and bought a bunch of milk products that Melina eventually refused to consume. The milk there is processed differently (like milk in Europe) and has a different flavor that Melina hated. She ended up eating a lot of beans, rice, and watermelon.
Melina absolutely loved the pool, though. It was very hard to get her out. She got very good at swimming underwater, like a seal, for about 10 feet; emerging sputtering, gasping, and flailing (and attracting a lot of attention); and then going back underwater for eight feet or so before finally petering out and needing help. Several times I had to explain to people that she wasn't drowning. By the end of the week she could go all the way around the pirate ship without a parent in the water next to her; she would just grab on to the side of the pool when she needed a rest.
I liked the pool, too, but I preferred the ocean, which was just a few feet away. The water there was so warm and blue compared to the ocean here, and you could float like a jellyfish. Once I swam out about 50 feet (which made Melina nervous) and waited for the tide to wash me gently back to the shore. It took a while. We were in the Sea of Cortez, so there was no undertow and no riptide. No jellyfish or sharks to worry about either - or if there were, I just didn't worry about them.
Jeff and his mom had fun as well. Jeff spent a lot of time in the pool with Melina - alternating between the pool and the hot tub - and Barbara liked to sit by the pool reading a book and sipping a margarita. Thanks to a misunderstanding (having to do with a timeshare presentation Barbara attended for us), we ended up getting about six vouchers for free margaritas. There aren't many things more delightful than sitting by a pool under a hot subtropical sun reading a book about teen vampire love and drinking a margarita.
We took a couple of day trips - one to Todos Santos, one to San Jose del Cabo, and one to Lover's Beach (or Land's End), the point that divides the Pacific from the Sea of Cortez. Todos Santos is known as a cute little artsy village to the north, on the Pacific. It was cute and artsy, and for some reason most of the day was spent going around a single square block. First we had tacos, and then we went to a cafe and had smoothies (tamarind!), and then Melina had to go the bathroom several times (four, I think) - interspersed with window shopping for trinkets, and admiring a white cockatiel - and then we went to a church, and I bought myself a little silver necklace, and then it was time to go to the beach. It was a vast hot white beach with roaring waves and several interesting dead things (including a dead porpoise), as well as little crabs that dug holes in the sand. We stayed there for a while searching out treasures and then headed back down the dangerous narrow highway back to Cabo San Lucas.
Our trip to San Jose del Cabo wasn't quite so pleasant. I think it was my least favorite day, in part because it was extremely windy (the weather was being affected by a distant tropical storm) and I got a migraine. We went to Playa Santa Maria, which is billed as one of the best snorkeling beaches in the area. What we found, unfortunately, was a small, windy, shadeless beach crawling with persistent vendors and dwarfed by a huge, ugly, depressing construction zone - no doubt the future site of some exorbitantly expensive resort. It made me feel guilty for contributing to the development of this beautiful area. And needless to say Melina had to go potty several times, and there was nowhere to go other than the construction site. We did manage to snorkel, and saw some fun fish, but the corals were dull (if not dead). My migraine came on (though not a terrible one), and eventually we left to go to San Jose del Cabo. San Jose del Cabo is supposedly more "authentic" than Cabo San Lucas, and that may be the case, but it seemed just as touristy to us. We did find a good tacqueria where we had "queso fundido" (spicy meat mixed with melted cheese) and jamaica (a hibiscus drink) and tried unsuccessfully to get Melina to eat bean-and-hotdog soup. I'm pretty sure that's when I got the tummy ailment that affected me later.
Our two best days took place right around Cabo San Lucas. On Wednesday we walked down the beach toward town, and through the beach party zone. It was a crazy place, especially that day, when the distant tropical storm was sending up huge waves that would crash and roll right up to the beachside bars. People would scream and laugh and run up the beach whenever a wave came up. Meanwhile, announcers on loudspeakers were inviting people to have drinking contests with the bartenders and offering free tequila. It was probably around noon; we wandered though the crowd of girls in bikinis, vendors in white selling sunglasses and bracelets and fake silver and toys, drunk frat boys, tourists, water taxi operators, surf fishermen and children. Although it wasn't exactly my scene, I thought it was hugely fun. Eventually we wandered past the crowds and found a relatively protected beach where we could swim. We set up next to a local woman whose husband was fishing in the surf. Melina played in the sand with her Ya-Ya; Jeff snorkeled; I pretended I was a jellyfish.
My other favorite day was our last day, when we took a water taxi to Lover's Beach. We had been meaning to do this for days (we got free tickets out of the timeshare presentation), but the surf had been too rough and nobody was landing at the beach. We found that we weren't the only ones who had been waiting to go there, so we ended up going at 3:00 p.m. and only had an hour to spend there. (While we waited, Melina had her hair braided by a woman on the beach. I was astounded that she would sit still for so long. She still has some of the braids). When we finally got into our glass-bottomed water taxi and arrived at Land's End, I was impressed. It really is beautiful. The rough waves (still churned up by the storm) were crashing against the rocks; there were fish for Melina to see down below the boat; there were sea lions (which delighted Melina) - and the beach itself was beautiful, with huge rock formations and cliffs. We explored the beach, and then Jeff and I did some snorkeling. At first it was a little bit scary, because of the rough water, but once we got down below the waves, it was fantastic snorkeling. I saw angelfish, parrotfish, long skinny needle-like fish, a few small rays, schools with hundreds of white and grey fish, and small electric blue fish. We tried to sneak up on a floating pelican (not easy). I could have stayed in the water for much longer, but it was soon time to head back to the beach, and Jeff was cold. (Snorkeling is the only time I feel like I have an advantage over him in the body fat department. He gets cold in about a quarter of the time I do).
That night was our anniversary. First we went out to a favorite tacqueria with Melina and Barbara, and then Jeff and I went out together. We wandered around the tourist stores for a while, doing a little shopping, and went to our favorite restaurant (Mi Casa, which is a veritable museum of folk art with fantastic food to boot) and had the world's largest margaritas in their beautiful, private bar. Then we did more exploring, which was somewhat romantic (it is worth noting that the uneven sidewalks in Mexico, combined with margaritas, make for some interesting walking. I think every home and business must be responsible for its own sidewalk, because none of them line up. There is no coordination whatsoever). A chihuahua almost bit me at a coffee shop, which provided some additional spice to the evening. Eventually we headed home, not too late, because unfortunately we had to leave the next morning.
And just let me say that a hangover, plus a mild tummy bug, plus an airport and luggage and an energetic four-year-old, is not a good combination. I don't think there are many things more miserable than thinking you're going to throw up in the middle of a busy airport - except perhaps actually doing it, which I didn't. But I felt like I was going to all day long.
And finally, we were home. Tan, braided, sandy (just today I found a bunch of sand in the bathtub), queasy, tired, somewhat relaxed, but happy enough to be home. It was a fun time.
Note: I'll post photos when I can - they are on a different computer.
We flew into Cabo San Lucas (I refuse to call it "Cabo") on a clear, hot day. Almost every day there is clear and hot, so it wasn't unusual. When we deplaned (using a rolling stairway), I was struck by the sudden brightness and heat. We had heard that we would be tackled by timeshare salesmen as soon as we deplaned, but that wasn't the case. Looking back, I think we went out the wrong exit - or perhaps the right one. Anyway, I had practiced saying "we already have one" in Spanish (something like "ya tenemos una") but I didn't need to say it that day.
For some reason, on every single leg of our trip there and back, we were seated in the very first row behind first class. This happy arrangement meant that we were first off the plane and therefore first in line to go through customs, which is a huge time saver. Customs was painless in both directions; both Mexican and U.S. officials were cheerfully matter-of-fact and uninterested in our personal details.
After arriving, we went to pick up our rental at Europcar. Melina and I wandered around looking at the Mexican sodas in the refrigerated case and the ants crawling in the sidewalk. They were very fast ants, much faster than their Oregonian counterparts. Meanwhile, Jeff was exposed to our first (of many) timeshare pitches, and also his first experience handing over a little bit of cash under the table for a reduction in the weekly rental car rate. We ended up with a pretty good deal for our little red hot chili pepper car, although there was some confusion about whether we really had insurance. All the while, I was happy to fall back into that traditional gender role that says that the man makes the car insurance arrangements while the woman takes care of the child. It can be pretty convenient.
We drove into the city - first past mountains and big (saguaro?) cactuses, and then past a jumble of resorts, shacks, construction sites, and chain stores. There is an Applebee's in Cabo San Lucas. And a Home Depot (heaven forbid). And a Costco, which we went to despite my distaste for going to a Costco in Mexico (isn't that like going to a McDonald's in Bali? I mean, what's the point?). But we had a week of groceries to stock up on, and a Costco card, so it made sense. I was relieved to see that the Costco sold large quantities of tortillas.
And then we were at the resort - the Villa del Arco. It is a large, luxurious, brand spanking new place with several pools (one with a pirate ship in the middle, with a snack bar on it). We had to sit though another time share pitch, right off, which was annoying; but the staff were helpful and the place was beautiful. We had a one-bedroom suite, and Jeff's mom (who arrived the next day) had another one-bedroom suite next door. It was clean, spacious, attractive... not terribly soulful, or quaint, but very comfortable.
The next several days were spent mainly by the pool. On Monday we picked Jeff's mom up from the airport, made another trip to a grocery store (and endured another time share pitch from a persistent person working the tourists there), marveled at all the interesting groceries, and bought a bunch of milk products that Melina eventually refused to consume. The milk there is processed differently (like milk in Europe) and has a different flavor that Melina hated. She ended up eating a lot of beans, rice, and watermelon.
Melina absolutely loved the pool, though. It was very hard to get her out. She got very good at swimming underwater, like a seal, for about 10 feet; emerging sputtering, gasping, and flailing (and attracting a lot of attention); and then going back underwater for eight feet or so before finally petering out and needing help. Several times I had to explain to people that she wasn't drowning. By the end of the week she could go all the way around the pirate ship without a parent in the water next to her; she would just grab on to the side of the pool when she needed a rest.
I liked the pool, too, but I preferred the ocean, which was just a few feet away. The water there was so warm and blue compared to the ocean here, and you could float like a jellyfish. Once I swam out about 50 feet (which made Melina nervous) and waited for the tide to wash me gently back to the shore. It took a while. We were in the Sea of Cortez, so there was no undertow and no riptide. No jellyfish or sharks to worry about either - or if there were, I just didn't worry about them.
Jeff and his mom had fun as well. Jeff spent a lot of time in the pool with Melina - alternating between the pool and the hot tub - and Barbara liked to sit by the pool reading a book and sipping a margarita. Thanks to a misunderstanding (having to do with a timeshare presentation Barbara attended for us), we ended up getting about six vouchers for free margaritas. There aren't many things more delightful than sitting by a pool under a hot subtropical sun reading a book about teen vampire love and drinking a margarita.
We took a couple of day trips - one to Todos Santos, one to San Jose del Cabo, and one to Lover's Beach (or Land's End), the point that divides the Pacific from the Sea of Cortez. Todos Santos is known as a cute little artsy village to the north, on the Pacific. It was cute and artsy, and for some reason most of the day was spent going around a single square block. First we had tacos, and then we went to a cafe and had smoothies (tamarind!), and then Melina had to go the bathroom several times (four, I think) - interspersed with window shopping for trinkets, and admiring a white cockatiel - and then we went to a church, and I bought myself a little silver necklace, and then it was time to go to the beach. It was a vast hot white beach with roaring waves and several interesting dead things (including a dead porpoise), as well as little crabs that dug holes in the sand. We stayed there for a while searching out treasures and then headed back down the dangerous narrow highway back to Cabo San Lucas.
Our trip to San Jose del Cabo wasn't quite so pleasant. I think it was my least favorite day, in part because it was extremely windy (the weather was being affected by a distant tropical storm) and I got a migraine. We went to Playa Santa Maria, which is billed as one of the best snorkeling beaches in the area. What we found, unfortunately, was a small, windy, shadeless beach crawling with persistent vendors and dwarfed by a huge, ugly, depressing construction zone - no doubt the future site of some exorbitantly expensive resort. It made me feel guilty for contributing to the development of this beautiful area. And needless to say Melina had to go potty several times, and there was nowhere to go other than the construction site. We did manage to snorkel, and saw some fun fish, but the corals were dull (if not dead). My migraine came on (though not a terrible one), and eventually we left to go to San Jose del Cabo. San Jose del Cabo is supposedly more "authentic" than Cabo San Lucas, and that may be the case, but it seemed just as touristy to us. We did find a good tacqueria where we had "queso fundido" (spicy meat mixed with melted cheese) and jamaica (a hibiscus drink) and tried unsuccessfully to get Melina to eat bean-and-hotdog soup. I'm pretty sure that's when I got the tummy ailment that affected me later.
Our two best days took place right around Cabo San Lucas. On Wednesday we walked down the beach toward town, and through the beach party zone. It was a crazy place, especially that day, when the distant tropical storm was sending up huge waves that would crash and roll right up to the beachside bars. People would scream and laugh and run up the beach whenever a wave came up. Meanwhile, announcers on loudspeakers were inviting people to have drinking contests with the bartenders and offering free tequila. It was probably around noon; we wandered though the crowd of girls in bikinis, vendors in white selling sunglasses and bracelets and fake silver and toys, drunk frat boys, tourists, water taxi operators, surf fishermen and children. Although it wasn't exactly my scene, I thought it was hugely fun. Eventually we wandered past the crowds and found a relatively protected beach where we could swim. We set up next to a local woman whose husband was fishing in the surf. Melina played in the sand with her Ya-Ya; Jeff snorkeled; I pretended I was a jellyfish.
My other favorite day was our last day, when we took a water taxi to Lover's Beach. We had been meaning to do this for days (we got free tickets out of the timeshare presentation), but the surf had been too rough and nobody was landing at the beach. We found that we weren't the only ones who had been waiting to go there, so we ended up going at 3:00 p.m. and only had an hour to spend there. (While we waited, Melina had her hair braided by a woman on the beach. I was astounded that she would sit still for so long. She still has some of the braids). When we finally got into our glass-bottomed water taxi and arrived at Land's End, I was impressed. It really is beautiful. The rough waves (still churned up by the storm) were crashing against the rocks; there were fish for Melina to see down below the boat; there were sea lions (which delighted Melina) - and the beach itself was beautiful, with huge rock formations and cliffs. We explored the beach, and then Jeff and I did some snorkeling. At first it was a little bit scary, because of the rough water, but once we got down below the waves, it was fantastic snorkeling. I saw angelfish, parrotfish, long skinny needle-like fish, a few small rays, schools with hundreds of white and grey fish, and small electric blue fish. We tried to sneak up on a floating pelican (not easy). I could have stayed in the water for much longer, but it was soon time to head back to the beach, and Jeff was cold. (Snorkeling is the only time I feel like I have an advantage over him in the body fat department. He gets cold in about a quarter of the time I do).
That night was our anniversary. First we went out to a favorite tacqueria with Melina and Barbara, and then Jeff and I went out together. We wandered around the tourist stores for a while, doing a little shopping, and went to our favorite restaurant (Mi Casa, which is a veritable museum of folk art with fantastic food to boot) and had the world's largest margaritas in their beautiful, private bar. Then we did more exploring, which was somewhat romantic (it is worth noting that the uneven sidewalks in Mexico, combined with margaritas, make for some interesting walking. I think every home and business must be responsible for its own sidewalk, because none of them line up. There is no coordination whatsoever). A chihuahua almost bit me at a coffee shop, which provided some additional spice to the evening. Eventually we headed home, not too late, because unfortunately we had to leave the next morning.
And just let me say that a hangover, plus a mild tummy bug, plus an airport and luggage and an energetic four-year-old, is not a good combination. I don't think there are many things more miserable than thinking you're going to throw up in the middle of a busy airport - except perhaps actually doing it, which I didn't. But I felt like I was going to all day long.
And finally, we were home. Tan, braided, sandy (just today I found a bunch of sand in the bathtub), queasy, tired, somewhat relaxed, but happy enough to be home. It was a fun time.
Note: I'll post photos when I can - they are on a different computer.
Some blog thoughts
I haven't written in a very long time. I find that more and more of my energy goes into writing Facebook updates and fooling around with Twitter, in part because of the instant gratification of getting comments (especially on FB). It seems so much more interactive than this blog, where I very rarely get a response to what I write. I suppose if I wrote more (or if I wrote about things of more general interest) I would get more comments. Either way, this blog serves more as a journal - first a journal of my pregnancy, and now of Melina growing up, and a journal of the non-Melina things that interest me. But of course a traditional journal is private, and this is public. I have a lot of mean-spirited, irresponsible, irrational, excessively deep and private thoughts that don't make it to this page. So I guess I need a handwritten journal as well. A private handwritten journal, a public blog, a breezy collection of FB updates, and perhaps a Twitter feed as well. That's a lot of recording.
Friday, June 05, 2009
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Grilled skirt steak and arugula salad with Rocquefort and Catalina dressing, and Salvadoran grilled corn
Recipes 3 and 4 of the June Gourmet Challenge.Grilled skirt steak salad recipe here
Salvadoran grilled corn recipe here
This was a surprisingly easy and tasty dinner. I prepared the salad dressing and the corn dip in advance, while Melina was distracted, and the actual grilling of the corn & steak took about 10 minutes. Jeff and I both thought the dressing for the corn tasted like Burger King's special sauce; but I didn't mind. I love grilled corn - it is so much easier to prepare than boiled or steamed corn on the cob, and it's so good with a squeeze of lime and some salt and pepper. The steak salad was great, too. I don't usually go for steak, but this was good. Skirt steak is very thin and it grills up fast. It went very well with the Catalina dressing (which I would make again) and the blue cheese.
Melina liked this meal a lot. She is a "single ingredient" girl - she doesn't like when things are mixed together too much, so she basically got corn, steak, and bread. I think that's pretty typical for a 4-year-old. The chickens enjoyed the leftovers too - they go crazy for corn on the cob. So all in all, we were very satisfied. There was a minor drama when Melina spilled juice in her lap, but it was over quickly.
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