Houses of pain, suffering and tears

The word puebleando literally means, town hopping, a quick town visit on our way to a destination. We typically stop at the town square. Here we always find the main church, city hall and some important buildings surrounding the central park. Customarily we stop and learn important information about the town by visiting the government buildings, church and take a few pictures of statues and interesting structures.
After a while we learn to appreciate the pattern , no matter what time of the day or night we arrived at the town, the church always has a gathering of people inside  They are mostly poor women, and elderly all prostrated, oppressed into in deep prayer. I have witnessed many of the faithful crawling on their knees towards their patron saint, drop a few coins into a box. They light a candle to their favorite statue or image and begin a mournful lament and prayers. They beseech help and divine intervention to ameliorate their conditions of life. No doubt they are true believers...

Mision San Pedro y San Pablo in Cadereyta

One thing I had never seen, until... I visited the Franciscan mission of San Pedro y San Pablo in Cadereyta, Querétaro México. This opulent structure was begun in 1718 but not completed until 1805. Considering that I have visited a great number of chapels, churches, missions and cathedrals, I am familiar with the strong faith and love Mexican have for their houses of worship. As I walked through this church I found myself face to face with a chapel  which its' sole purpose is to inflict pain. It struck me as barbaric. A chapel that instead of a floor, you encounter, at the very entrance, 28 precipitous cement steps. They are about five inches wide and cover the length of the chapel. the steepness is 45 degrees. Explicit directions on how to climb the steps are written on the walls along with bloody pictures of Christ. Upon entering the chapel the believer is to kneel down and begin ascending the steps with out any part of their feet touching the preceding steps, an  ordeal for any mortal in good physical shape.

On your knees reach the altar and say the prayer of the blessed one

You may wonder, who would put themselves to this type of assiduous castigation climbing these steps? Mostly elderly women, no doubt as penitence for soliciting, from their god, good health, safety and well being for their children specially those who have gone to find work in el norte.
As I stood facing this chamber of pain, suffering and tears, I wondered if the young, strong priests who had the audacity to have the rules painted on the wall of the chapel ever tried to climb the stairs on their knees? I seriously doubt it.

The 28 steps are to be climbed on your knees one by one without stepping on them use the side stairway to go down

The entire chapel is a chamber of penitence and sorrow.

Tepache a drink with Aztec origins

Tepache is the Nahuatl name given to the drink made from the cáscara de piña, the rind of pineapple. The drink is made by fermenting the sugars from the rind of the fruit. Generally, tepache is less than one percent alcohol by volume. Its' pleasant flavor reminds me of  sangria, a fruity, red Spanish wine mixed with slices of fruit and juice. It is served during the traditional summer backyard barbecue parties. It is very popular in Mexico and the southwest.
Now for the tepache...

You will need a couple of ripe pineapples. Carefully wash and clean them with a stiff nylon brush. 
Cut and dispose of the head.

With the rind removed, the fruit is ready to eat and the rind will go into the boiling pot

Cinnamon, cloves and piloncillo are the condiments that accompany the rind into the boiling pot. Piloncillo is unrefined sugar. It can be found in any Mexican market or you can substitute brown sugar.

 

Fill the pot with about six quarts of water and boil for about twenty to thirty minutes. Some purists insist that the boiling should be done in a  clay pot for a more earthly taste. After boiling  the mixture, cover it and set it aside in a warm area for three to four days. If you keep it fermenting longer, you may end up with pineapple vinegar.
 

 

After stopping the fermentation process on the fourth, day you need a large container and cheese cloth to strain the tepache mixture.

Remembering 9-11

For me this picture is emblematic of what I remember fro 9-11 thanks to Reuters for helping me remember

Where were you on that frightful, hideous morning? My wife and I were leaving home for work. We were both school administrators. She rushed to her school and I proceeded to my office at the corner of Sixth Street and Grand, downtown Los Angeles, on the 35th floor. At that time I was the director for a number school in the LA school district. The drive into the city was memorable I don't recall the usual mad rushing of cars in and out of traffic lanes. I recall there was an even flow of traffic, somber faces inside their autos, all intensely listening to the radio.
As I entered the elevator to take me up to the thirty third floor, I sensed that this morning was not the usual quiet ride with everyone looking up at the number indicator. It was a more somber, ailing elevator ride. As the elevator doors opened, each floor seemed to be accepting its share of the ailing load of disheartened colleagues and coworkers.
Upon entering my office I was notified of an immediate emergency meeting. Providing support and services to our schools was our number one priority. We needed to assess the our students, staffs and schools, provide counseling services and mental health to  the local schools and assess emergency school plans. We gathered a group instructional leaders to develop lesson plans for our teachers and students to deal with this tragedy. Suddenly an emergency call came through the building communication speakers to all high rise buildings in downtown Los Angeles: evacuate ASAP. We were dispersed to our local schools to assist them and assess their plans. I spent the rest of the day visiting classroom and listening to some very hard working teachers, teaching their students about  the days events, easing fears and calming hearts and minds.
Ten years have passed, ten years of fear, restrictions and loss of liberties. Ten years of wars; some of those kids that were sitting in my schools that day have died in that far away sand, others have returned with missing limbs and mental illnesses.Ten years find our economy in shambles and our young still dying. And us?  Still living in fear.
Ten years and we still don't have a state education curriculum to answer the questions of elementary, middle and high school students. Why? And you, what do you remember?

"Nopalitos... Nopalitos compuestos para el taco"

The summer season gives me the opportunity to get together with the family and friends.and to show off my culinary skills with the BBQ grill.... preparing delicacies with beef, chicken, freshly caught fish and ancestral recipes like, nopalitos (no-pahl-etos). A visit to  my favorite Mexican food market, often reminds me of the early days of my youth, back in Mexico city. I recall the hot afternoons filled with fun and games with my friends . When suddenly we would hear the yell and cries of, "Nopalitos compuestos para el taco". Don  Refugio, the nopalitos vendor, would arrive in our street. The ladies, including my mother would come out from their homes with their red clay platter to purchase at least a kilo of the tasty, yummy, nopalitos chopped with onions, tomatoes, chiles topped with panela cheese. The nopalitos were fully cooked and ready to eat with freshly made corn tortillas. Needless to say, the game came to a sudden end. My friends, my brother Daniel and I would quickly follow our mothers home to savor tacos de nopalitos.

This cactus, nopal is planted in a garden along with fruit trees and the lawn, not necessarily ideal
to produce off  young tender paddles. Why? too much water.

This small cactus, on the other hand is planted along a fence away from any garden. It seldom gets water
and its' growth of young, tender paddles is exactly the kind needed for a tasty dish

 
Now, here in el norte, nopalitos have become more than a salad. They're a cult exclusively in the Mexican community and fanciers of healthy eating. Just the other day, my daughter, Sara asked if I would  make an ensalada de nopalitos, cactus salad for her office pot-luck. Considering myself a premier culinarian of nopalitos, I reasoned her request as an opportunity to display my skills to a wider palate. Correspondingly I would  share this little known vegetable with a wider audience. Nopalitos  are a tasty vegetable from Mexico and southwest part of the US. It's good tasting like broccoli, string beans, soy beans or bell peppers. More precisely they remind me of okra with a Mexican flavor.

A visit to my local Mexican supermarket provided me with a venue to find all the ingredients needed. With the onset of health conscious consumers and adventurous palates you will surely find a variety of fresh vegetables, fruits and spices which not long ago were considered exotic.When purchasing nopales, choose leaves or paddles from 6 to 8 inches long, the optimum stage of maturity, taste and texture.

 These nopales above are a bit too large and mature for my taste. So I purchased a package of smaller size already cleaned and peeled, below. The only thing left to do was to wash them and grill them. A word of caution here... Most of the nopalitos in restaurants are boiled in water. This method of cooking not only washes many nutrients down the drain but also the the sensory examination is lost through boiling.  I highly recommend grilling, either on a barbecue or hibachi.

All the ingredients needed are nopalitos, onion tomatoes, chiles, cilanto, seasoned salt, pepper and extra virgin olive oil. Once your cactus are grilled, cut it into small pieces. Dice your onion, tomatoes, cilantro and chiles- remove seeds and veins.You will be able to control the spiciness and  heat with spicy olive oil.

The nopaltios are grilled, vegetables are diced un-cooked. Note that the amount with the exception of jalapeños are about equal. Salt and black pepper to taste. On the left high grade virgin olive oil infused and seasoned with chile de arbol and on the right olio extra vergine di oliva. The concluding step is to toss all the ingredients together and enjoy the earthy, smoky, spicy,  texture in every mouth-full. A summer afternoon is a perfect time to concentrate on and enjoy the succulent aromas of this wonderful salad with family, friends and a cold beer. Enjoy!

Hmm... hmm good

Nopales belong to the genus opuntia ficus-indica group of plants. They have been a source of nourishment and medicinal purpose from ancient times in Mexico. Curanderos or healers, use them to help burn victims, slicing them in half and placing the fist size paddle leaf with the open face on the wound and securing it with a bandage. I've also seen sobadores, folk masseuses, use the slimy juice as a rubbing ointment to massage sports injuries or muscle pain. You can also find the juice in soft drinks, skin medications and vitamins made from this product. But the best and most popular use is in the culinary arts... I recall  Angel, my uncle, in Mexico city, puts them whole on the grill stuffed with a generous slice of cheese, making them like a nopal quesadilla, a true delicacy!.

In Pursuit of Rainbow Trout

Three weeks ago I received an early morning call from Jorge aka "el perico" A pleasant surprise. Because parrots and he are not known as an early birds. "What's the status of the fishing trip?", he demanded to know. "I haven't received any information, are you'll trying to leave me out?" I tried to assuage his pain informing him that every thing was going smoothly and he should be getting an e-mail soon. "Don't forget I want my own room!" he bellowed... ending the call. In truth his call was a timely reminder to get the information out.

 El Perico was in charge of  refreshments and making meal arrangements for the trip. He tried his best to supply the group with a variety of drinks and other thirst quenchers, but of course the group found his efforts lacking when, remorselessly, he brought a cooler full of premium drinks for himself. For the rest of the group, he had a cooler full of lower quality drinks. Needless to say the Satyr was less-than- happy with his blunder. He exclaimed, " I am not drinking that cheap beer". Javier added, " I've seen that water for $2.19 for 48 bottles at the hardware store. It became a moral imperative to stop at a Grocery store and replenish our coolers. At this point, it was the only decent thing to do. Perico's selection of restaurants for the evening meals was more prosperous. Each evening he selected an A rated establishment with different culinary specialty. The whole group was pleased with his taste and selections. In truth, I felt a lot better the group seemed to forget his earlier miscalculation.

Convict Lake proved to be a difficult  place too hook up trout this week, they were just not interested in ending in a pan with onion, butter and garlic.

We had reservations  in Bishop CA for a week of fishing, relaxation, good food and friendship. Everyone assembled on time at perico's home. Four hrs. later we were at 8,600 ft. altitude casting our lines for that elusive six pound rainbow trout. Javier elected this propitious moment to inform us that his son, Javi, aka, The Sacramento Stinger would not be joining us because of previous commitments. This was a  crushing blow to the much anticipated contest between the Yucaipa Satyr vs the Sacramento Stinger. I should mention, there would be many disappointed anglers in the lake this week. Of course perico has his own ideas as to why the stinger didn't show up. The Satyr was equally disappointed he was looking forward to trashing that young whipper-snapper. Javier valiantly, but foolishly said, "Ill step in and take my son's mantle, it's a matter of family honor". "No way!"  perico protested. No doubt a rouse to save Javier added embarrassment. "That would be plebeian", he added. That was the end of the contest. Later  perico confided his thoughts to me, as to why the Sacramento Stinger failed to show. "Yo creo tubo miedo,  I didn't want Javier to get taken to the out house by the Satyr".

Interlocken lake as usual provided us with excellent fish. It is a wonderful place to fish all along it's shore with plenty of shade and comfortable surroundings and utilities.

Limits for everyone in our group. Bob, the virtuoso angler, was in charge of charting the areas we would be targeting each morning. Armed with relief  maps, GPS locations wind current and moon charts  he selected, for our first day, Interlocking, a small water hole on route 166 some 12 miles up the mountains from Bishop. Upon our arrival we noticed some fifty people fishing the area. Bob jettison his four lb. line some forty yards and immediately hooked an excellent size rainbow. This pattern continued, with in fifteen minutes he reached his limit. This gave him the opportunity to share his skills with other fisherman and kids who had been there for hrs. with out catching anything. Soon he had a crowd around him seeking his advice and wisdom. An ephemeral time later everyone was bringing them in. His face could not hide his satisfaction when kids got their limits. Bob's philosophy is that fishing is an active sport. "You have to stand up to fish, always hold your pole in your hand. This will allow you to feel the fish nibbling your bait" His impression is that those people who just come to the lake to sit and put the pole on a holder are not true anglers. He calls them  "passive amateurs who just want to pass the day in the open air, soak-up the sun, reading  books". "There is nothing wrong with that", he added, "but they are not true fisherman".

Nicko getting a little shade

A with a smile or just a simper Perico displays his catch for the first day

On the lake Perico was eager to show  Satyr that the lessons he received from him paid great dividends. He prepared his own gear; made his own leaders and quickly was in the water. I know that he is a faux-religious man. But never-the-less I would hear a whispering  prayer each time he cast his line, followed by a "humph" sound . He swears he caught his limit on this trip, bu no one would certify his claim. There is something to say about adult learning it's slower, but more meaningful. Well done Perico

 Nicko our youngest angler was a most ardent supporter of the old timers he helped all them bring in the fish, helped those with poor eyesight hook their line through the hook. Untangle lines and still managed to catch his  limits each day. He proudly informed us that he will be starting at St. John Bosco  High School in a couple of weeks. "We hope you will continue joining us for a few more years". Bob said. Javier replied, "I'm sure he will, if we can invite other young anglers to come along. I saw him teaching other young newbies the art of lake fishing".

After the few days spent up in God Country we headed home. Nicko as always goes home with his prized catch. I proudly reminded the group that he consistently come in second place, "yes right after me", Bob said. "I'm sure he will surpass you soon", Javier added.

A happy young apprentice with a great catch for Mom.

TECATE Mexico Visit at your own risk

Heading towards Baja is always on the top of my mind. This time I was going to a birthday party for a relative. His children were celebrating his 70th. birthday. What made it more inviting was that the celebration was taking place in the small village of San Antonio de Las Minas in the route of the wine, El Valle de Guadalupe. This lovely valley produces 90% of the Mexican wines. Some of the wineries are renowned for their national and international awards. The blog entry of the party and wine tasting is for my next posting. Here I want to concentrate on our return to the USA.

On our return home I suggested to my wife that we return via Tecate, a town bordering east San Diego County. Many years before we had been to Tecate we fondly remember it's central park, warm people, book stores, it was clean and inviting. Our drive was wonderful, the natural surroundings gave us the opportunity to unplug ourselves from the grind of the urban centers. Slowly we left the open fields behind as we entered the town of Tecate. We followed the signs to the border crossing. As I made a right turn on the main street that takes us to the border crossing an uneasy feeling poured over me. The street was full of traffic police, perhaps ten or more, stationed every hundred yards or so. All lazily sitting on top of their motorcycles on both sides of the street. The scene was similar to driving in any large urban city and with out realizing, you end up in the middle of a gang's turf.

It wasn't long before one of Tecate's finest pulled me over. "Can I see your drivers license and registration.", he barked. As I handed him my California license and registration I asked, "What's the problem?" "This license is no good!", he responded. "Do you have a Mexican license?", "No". "How about an international license?" "I only have that license.", I responded. "Oh, this one isn't any good here amigo" this was followed by long, embarrassing pause and silence. That's the cue for you to pull out some cash and offer the infamous mordida. "What law did I allegedly break?", I insisted. "Well, you went through a stop sign." "What stop sign?", I replied. " Oh... and you don't have your seat belt on". "I unbuckled the belt to give you my license". "No, you didn't have it on" long pause, another cue for the mordida. I reiterated that I broke no traffic law. "Well... you need to follow me." "Where", I asked him. "To the delegacion to see the judge", he responded. It is well known that when an officer of the law restricts your movement, you are under arrest. He didn't seem pleased that instead of offering a mordida I requested his name and badge number. Officer Adolfo Solapaz, badge # 665585 took me to the delegacion.   That's when I noticed that the majority of cars being pulled over had one thing in common, American license plates.
This entrapment reminds me of the angler's term, trolling. The practice of fishing up and down a certain identified area where you know the big fish are. In the traveling world  we know it as targeting turistas.

Once in the delegacion, an unimpressive bunker style type of building, I took a seat and waited for Oficial Solopaz to fill out what looked like a traffic ticket. I asked if I could have a copy and he said I didn't need one. He escorted me to the cashiers window. I protested, "wait, where is the judge?"  "Oooh you want to see the judge ". He shouted at three individuals, two men and one woman, who were chatting and having coffee at the end of the hall. "Which one of you wants to hear this case?" "These are the Adjudicators?", I asked myself, because, they were dressed more like janitors that judges. The woman replied, "I have a few minutes I'll take it." She then asked me to follow her.
We entered a small office, the size of a broom closet with a metal desk, a sleeping cot and two torn chairs. "Is this the court room?", I asked. Also asking her, "Are you the judge who will hear my case?" She replied, "Sit down! what do you want?" I asked what were the charges against me and where was the accusing officer. She read the ticket and said, "You know what laws you violated, I see you didn't have your seat belt on." As I tried to explain she interrupted me and started laughing. "Do you know how much you would have to pay for this violation on the on the other side?". I tried to tell her that I always wear my set belt and I have never been stopped for this, therefore I wouldn't know. She continued laughing and called the guard at the doorway, "tell this man how much he would have to pay en el otro lado".( in the US)  "Oh, ha, ha como quinientos dolares.", (about $500. dollars) the guard responded. I quickly realized that this jurist had more make-up than brains. Therefore, the prudent thing for me to do was to get out of there ASAP.

I proceeded to the cashiers window to pay an $80.00 dollar fine. As I stood in line, I noticed that this Pantheon of justice was barren of their statues of  liberty and justice. The pictures of Mexican heroes, famous jurists, slogans of Mexican pride and pictures of government officials were all replace by a few colorful calendars from local markets, restaurants and bars. As I was paying the fine, oficial Solopaz with a smirk on his face asked me, "como le fue?". I responded, "This is why there is no tourism in Tecate. You are chasing all the people away and in the long run everyone suffers." "That is your opinion.", he replied. "Yes it is and I for one will never return to spend my dollars here", I told him.

My experience in Tecate reminds me of the legendary cryptid animal chupacabra, which is said to inhabit the northern parts of Mexico. It lives by sucking the blood of goats, according to legend it to comes out at night, but I have seen it in daytime, sucking the dollars out of tourists in Tecate.
My advice to all you who love to visit Baja as much as I do, stay way from Tecate. Take the wonderful toll road from Ensenada all the way to the border. Buen Viaje.

Temecula wine tasting trip - part 2

As we drove the smooth, natural terrain, I saw in the distance feathery grasses in fusion with boulders and chaparral giving way to Bobs' favorite cheese factory. We arrived at Winchester Cheese Company, an unpretentious farm, with goats, cattle, geese, chickens and dogs. Jorge felt right at home. " It reminds me of my Rancho Delicias, back in Mexico," I heard him say. He went straight to the corrals with Bob following him to play and pat the animals.They fell in love with a brown and white goat and a goose that followed them everywhere. They were pretty mellow now, frolicking with the livestock. Seeing them at ease and in good spirits, reminded me of Saint Francis of Assisi who also loved animals, Being around them gave him happiness and tranquility. Studies suggest that that patting and loving animals causes your brain to produce oxcitosin which restores your inner health, strength and fills you with kindness towards animals and your fellow men. Here was proof: they were happy as larks, their earlier squabbles were all forgotten.

The cheese making process was closed and the only cheese available was a hard aged Gouda. This was a major disappointment to me because Bob had been instructing us on the finer points selecting and tasting cheese. " I took a class in Italy ", he said and considers himself to be an amateur fromager, an expert in the art of selecting cheese at the peak of perfection.  Jorge told us not to worry, he would take us to Henry's, another excellent establishment which carries a blue-ribbon assortment of fine cheeses. He was right: it proved to be an excellent outpost for all kinds and varieties of cheese.

Temecula is an "eco-chic" town with gentle rolling hills wrapped in brown/green veils of  majestic grape vines.  Now at the budding stage, it won't be long before the grapes mature and are ready to harvest. The burgeoning wine industry has made room for numerous wineries all along California Rancho Road where you can easily find most of them. One word of warning from Bob, "Preparation is essential."  True to form, he made a list of the wineries he was interested in visiting and the kinds of wines he wanted to taste. Jorge, on the other hand, knew which kind he wanted to taste. He said, " The vintage, taste and the year are more important to me no matter what the price is! ". For me, I was in a learning expedition with the masters so it was all good.

We followed Bobs list of wineries which were all wonderful structures: chalets, estates, cottages, mansions, villas or ranches. Each establishment had its own distinct artistic and architectural design and all had productive fields of grape vines.
At each winery we paid a fee ranging from $10.00 - $12.00 dollars for about eight "tastes",secured a nice table and took turns describing the flavor and rating. Some of the nicer wineries even present you with the tasting glass as a souvenir. We enjoyed: Syrah, Viognier, Gewurztraminer, Malbec, Pinot Grigio, Sauvignon Blanc, Merlot, Cabernet Franc, Fume Blank, Chardonnay, Zinfandel and Tempranillo. Bob was very descriptive and exquisite in explaining what he tasted in the wines. Jorge, contrast, was more to the point. He knew what he liked and what tasted good to him. He was not impressed with aromas or subtleties; earthiness, berries, oak, buttery, dew etc. " If I like the taste I buy it, "no importa lo que cueste!", he said and he did.

After a few more wineries we noticed Bob was no longer interested in tasting wines. He just sat and reading brochures, reminiscing of his visits to the wineries of Italy. I suggested that we have a late lunch, a suggestion to which they eagerly agreed. After a pleasant conversation over lunch, we each made a list of the wines we would be purchasing. Then we headed to S'yrneh Jorge's favorite Winery and Retats Brothers, Bob winery of choice. We stocked up for a few weeks. On the way back, a quiet drive. Three sages, of the third age, headed home.

Temecula wine tasting trip - part 1

Rain crept into southern California dragging in cold winds and poor road conditions, ideal for traffic problems. It remained with us for about two weeks incarcerating my friend Bob in his humble abode, a pseudo-craftsmen residency, twenty four hours a day. His driveway was turned to muck and sludge, forcing him to remain interned in his roost. His only lifeline to the outside world was the computer and  telephone to call friends and acquaintances. Robert called me to grumble about the rain and cold, his voice agitated, " I hate this! I can't get my newspaper or do my morning walking to the doughnut shop. What am I to do? " I listened... commiserating with him. After a while he said goodbye and excused  himself to boil some water for his te de manzanilla, chamomile tea. It's supposed to be great for his morning constitution.

The following day Jorge called informing me that he had just spoken to Bob and that he was going Kafkaesque with cabin fever. But if the next day was sunny, I was invited to accompany them to Temecula. Apparently Bob is very familiar with all the wineries. He considers himself to be a faux sommelier. Additionally, being the ladies man, he frequently gallivanted the wine country in search of romantic settings. He also knew a number of cheese tasting establishments. "We just need to get Bobby out in the fresh air and sunlight," Jorge reiterated.

That next day, the weather forecast promised a beautiful sunny California day. Jorge was at my door step promptly at 8:30 am and we headed out towards San Jacinto where we would rendezvous with our friend, Bob. He arrived a short time later with a handful of maps, driving directions and a klatch of wine coupons.  He was in excellent spirits and raring to get going. After the usual hellos and hugs, Jorge bellowed, " You don't need all that chingadera. I live here. I know where were going!" He added, " Why did you bring all those stinking coupons. Don't be a tightwad, It's embarrassing..."  Bob, obviously shocked at this unanticipated treatment answered, " Hey cabron!, I'm driving here! I have my route all planned out. If you don't want coupons, don't take them. " After that hyper-excited exchange, I cautiously chose the back seat to behold the two A-type personalities in the front. There in nothing more comical than two old, bald, retired Alpha-males trying to be the pack leader. As soon as we got to the first turn, another vociferous exchange began.  Each one wanted to take a different route to get to the same place. Jorge growled "I told you I know this area better than you, I live here! How can you tell me which way is better".  Bob replied, "I been to Temecula many times, I have the maps, I'm driving and it's my car!" Jorge shouted "Oh yeah well this is the last time you get to drive" This type of dickering continued for at least 25 minutes. Being the youngest, brightest, healthiest and most handsome of the group, I felt compelled to intervene. I needed to restore order and calm them down. I was concerned because they were now shouting at each other: their eyeballs protruding from their eyes sockets, face crimson red, the blood vessels on their forehead swelled and vascular bundles in their necks throbbed as if on the verge of coronary thrombosis. I politely asked them to stop.  when that didn't work, I chastised them into submission. "Look at yourselves! you are on the onset of a grand mal seizure". I ordered them to drink some water, gave each few ice cubes to cool their foreheads, directed them to take deep breaths and shake hands. I decided that we would take Bob's maps and follow them since it was his trip. Jorge muttering under his breath, reluctantly  agreed. The rest of the drive was wonderful, quiet and peaceful...  at least for a while.

Stay tuned for "Cheese and Wine Tasting - Part Deux"

Fish tacos par excellence

16020 Arrow highway Irwindale            Photos courtesy of Bob

La bufadora isn't one of your "Johnny come lately" chain restaurants or an Americanized franchise which have lately discovered fish tacos. Nor is it one of those "in vogue" greasy roach coaches rushing though traffic mixing their tacos with carbon monoxide. It is a small restaurant dedicated almost exclusively to tacos. Featuring the most flavorful, mouthwatering "fish tacos" you've ever tasted, with potato tacos a close second.
You may be wondering about my credentials as a judge of fish tacos well... I have traveled from the southern tip of Mexico north, up and down the Baja coast and throughout the southwest for over fifty years.Searching for the best fish tacos... I finally found  them ten miles from home, here in beautiful California.
I sat down with two of my friends, Jorge aka el perico and Bob aka the Satyr, who traveled 60 miles just for the pleasure of the aromas emanating from this simple but clean restaurant. After ordering our meals, Bob made his way to the salsa and chile bar, he returned with a platter full of delicious yellow peppers deep fried sprinkled with garlic salt and cheese, green and red salsa, a few jalapenos in escabeche and red onions thinly sliced marinated in rice vinegar. He promptly began devouring the deep fried yellow chiles as he urged, "el perico",  to try them. "Perico pruebalos... estan chingones"
Rogelio and Cynthia Ruiz, proprietors and chef elucidated us on the importance and value of having fresh ingredients and vegetables, quality meats and most of all pristine Pollock fish, a cold water,white fish. Excellent for frying and the best for tacos. The batter made specially for the fish tacos is a trade secret. The fish is sliced into generous portions immersed in the batter and submerged in very hot vegetable oil. The results... are a fluffy golden brown savory nuggets which are passed on to the presentation table below.

    
                                                                  

Above Eduardo carefully fries the fish to just the right constancy of crispness than passes the plate  to Adriana.
Here she prepares the presentation with fresh vegetables and seasoning as clients with much anticipation,
wait to savor these mouthwatering delicacies.

Wednesdays are the fish taco days each one on this delicious tacos is only .99 cents
with as many trips to the salsa bar as you can handle.

After the fish tacos, if  you are still hungry for more, the Satyr recommends the potato tacos in a homemade
hard shell with cheese they are his favorite.

This blog entry was about fish tacos but my friend Bob wanted me to mention that they also have beef and pork tacos. Manuel  prepares the meat for the beef tacos. Yes they are yummy.

 

Uribe, above insures that the ingredients are the best and inspects all the order
to insure quality control and customer satisfaction.

Teachers are non-essential in Wisconsin

The republican party in Wisconsin, governor and legislators, do not see teachers as essential employees.  Other state employees; prison guards, police, firemen escape this censure. Not those in the "noble profession". Builders of the future no! Child advocates, counselors, guardians of youth, no! Makers of men and women, keepers of the educational flame, no!
Teachers have become the scapegoats for every ill in America. The fat cats who are responsible for ruining the economy have faced no judge or jury. On the contrary, they are getting richer with bail-outs using public money.
Teachers on the other hand are easy targets; the majority are still women and too often the reproach for societies ills falls on these, the most vulnerable faces of public servants.
Teachers are also very familiar with bullies like Scott Walker, the governor. He got the monetary concessions he wanted from Wisconsin's teachers and now he is bullying them again, threatening to break-up the union...not all public employees unions only the teachers. This is unadulterated Union Busting!
California teachers beware study the events happening in the badger state, take them seriously, realize that now is the time to make ready, apply the necessary pressure on your union leaders and representatives. Don't allow bullies in elected office to destroy what has taken you years of sweat and tears to build!
We've dealt with bullies before. Let's prepare to deal with them again.

In Spanish... one word says it all

There is a word in the Spanish vocabulary that has gone a prodigious transformation over the last few decades in Mexico and the south-west part of the US. I  first became aware of the evolution of this word while attending a show of the most recognizable Chicano humorist in the entertainment field. After witnessing the overwhelming hysterical audience response, in the thousands, every time he used the word chingar. I proceeded to investigate the origin and evolution of this iconic word.
I consulted an number of the most popular Spanish-English dictionaries with out much success. I also consulted Spanish dictionaries, including the most prominent El pequeno Larousse. The only definition they had in common was:  drunkard, nosy, disturbing the peace. Is that all there is? why would crowds be so hilarious if that's all there was...
I needed to consult some authorities in the Spanish language. I contacted a number family, friends and acquaintances in Mexico city including  Sr. Angel who has lived in, according to Fuentes; la ciudad mas clara del mundo, all his life. He is well versed in the language of  "la capital, el DF". He is accountant by profession and a small businessman, but most of all he knows the language of the street. My other source Jorge (aka) "El Perico", an educator/administrator and doctoral candidate in Latin/American studies. And most important, he was raised during his teen-age years in the barrios of Tijuana. An excellent background for understanding the voguish evolution of the Spanish language.With their valuable assistance and insight into the language, I felt confident that we could do justice to this word.
The word chingar is used as a verb, an adjective or a noun. It can be used to admire, respect, compliment, praise someone or something. Juxtapose it can disparage, belittle, derogate, scorn, abhor. It fits into the catergory of the lenguaje florido; flowery language.

It means everything and nothing for example, my research took me to visit a swap meet. An enterprising Mexican phenomenon where you can buy everything; real estate, furniture, Mexican food, groceries, medicine, art, antiques and... and according to a sign all kinds of crap, "Se vende chigadera y media". A friend of mine Tony (aka) el general walked over to the stall, picking up a piece of scrap metal asked, "esta chingadera para que sirve?..." answer "Para lo que chingados quieras!" -What is this crap used for? What ever crap you want to use it for! Our other companion Bob (aka) Yucaipa Satyr feeling it was rip-off suggested to Tony, mandalo a la chingada, tell him to go to hell. Tony answered, "nomas lo estaba chingando". I was just braking his balls, I wasn't going to buy that chingadera.

It can also mean failure to achieve something, lapse, set back, deterioration, bankruptcy:
-Estudie mucho pero me chingue con mi examen de ingles - I really studied but I failed my English test.
-Ya se me chingo el negocio - my business failed.
-Poco a poco se esta chingando mi salud - slowly my health is deteriorating.

Used as an adjective it can have both a positive and negative attribute according to the situation. It can be attributed to both male and female by changing the gender of the word:
-Ese es el mas chingon - He is the boss, top dog, alpha male, someone to respect or fear.
-Ese es muy chingon - He is awesome, fabulous, high class, desirable, fancy, high grade, ladies man.
-Hay si, te cres muy chingon - You think you're so hot, bully, show-off, flaunt.
 -Estas todo chingado - you're all beat up, broke, ill kept, washed-up, failing either physically, financially or emotionally.

You can use it is a verb to describe who is doing what to whom and in what circumstances:
-No me estes chingando - stop bothering, aggravating or pestering me.
-Me lo voy a chingar - I'm going to give him an ass-kicking, I'm going to get the best of him
-Ese me quiere chingar - that one wants to kick my ass, make a fool of me.
-Me quiere chingar con mi vieja - Wants to take my woman, steal my girl friend.
-Le voy a poner una buena chinga - I'm going to give him a good ass kicking.

When you find yourself in a real angry situation which may lead to altercation such as  someone cuts you off on the freeway, try easing your mind, anger or both by consciously doing and saying the following:
-Raise your hand, extend you longest digital and say - vete a chingar a tu madre. Go screw your mother.
-Or you may choose to say -  Hijo de la chingada, you son of a whore.
- If you don't want to invoke family, just say - vete mucho a la chingada. Go fuck yourself.
- But right about now I'm sure you are probably saying this guy is full of chingaderas. I would agree with you!

A good time was had by all

It started earlier this year. I first became aware of it when my neighborhood home repair center skipped the usual Thanksgiving decorations and jumped right into displays of faux-Christmas trees, fully assembled, decorated with lights and  pine-scented ornaments. I almost broke down and bought one, but my daughter and wife would have none of it, "We will get the real thing," they asserted. And as if I needed more clues of the season, stealthy department store bags and boxes began appearing neatly stored in the closets. The race was on.
I knew that the season was in full swing when my lovely wife left me a to-do-list: "Bring the ornaments down from the garage, Don't forget the lights". This was followed by, "buy wrapping paper, tape and pretty bags and ribbons. Think of a menu for Christmas day." Great! I pulled out a few food magazines that my chef son, Alex, keeps neatly stored in the garage. With pictures in hand I said, "We should have something traditional like a nice honey rubbed ham and deep fried turkey with all the trimmings".
But when I heard the song,"Navidad, navidad linda navidad..." I immediately knew that we would have a Mexican style Christmas dinner. Was I out-voted on the menu? I asked,  "Si y que,!" the women of my life exclaimed.

Niko's smiling face seems to reflect the warmth of the kitchen in contrast to a cold winter's day.
 A job well done, helping with the tasty mole ...

Bunuelos:a sweet Mexican desert a must for any happy occasion;
a tortilla like wafer deep fried sprinkled with sugar. Excellent with cafecito de olla or chocolate.

Tamales, a delicacy handed down from from our ancestors in old Mexico, 
the ones wrapped in banana tree leaves are from the area of Yucatan. Those wrapped in corn husks
are from the southern part of Mexico prepared for us by Sara and Niko

Mercedes prepared her favorite dish: Menudo blanco a tasteful delicacy in any language,
very popular with the Mexicanos during the colonial period in Mexico. The Mexicanos who cooked in the homes of  the Spaniards noticed that they only used prime cuts of meats for their meals; So... they would take the tripe and other less desirable parts of the animal for their families, mix them with local vegetables, herbs and condiments - the results - some very tasty stew. Now days menudo is well known as a cure for the dreaded hangover or any other affliction including hunger.

Tamales, menudo, mole, bunuelos are not just part of the Mexican cuisine. Each plate is a culinary representation of diverse regions of Mexico. Each region adds to the colorful and tasteful flavors of their Mexican culinary traditions.
For many us living in America, we tend to forget our ethnic traditions; folklore; foods, flavors, music. Fortunately for us, living in California, we always have them nearby.
Once dinner was ready, Mercedes with her magisterial voice issued a direct order, "Let assemble around the Christmas tree and find out who's  been bad or good" Niko whispered in my ear,  "I know I've been good abuelo, I'm getting so much good stuff ".

 Santa arranged the stockings neatly in ascending order, nice guy.

"Look what I got" Diego tells his dad.

Paul and son Chris were so busy consuming a second bowl of menudo.
Chris found it specially delectable so, he went for thirds. Mercedes was
very happy that they liked it so much.

Judging from all the bags around them, our son Manny, his wife Viv, their son Diego
were very good this year.

Our daughter and her son Niko were not only good but also were
responsible for purchasing and setting-up the tree.

Dear old Dad with grandsons, Niko and Diego

Mercedes, and son Alex visiting from Chicago

Sara who is just like her mother at giving imperatives and decrees directed me
to take a picture of the assembled.

Our sons David, Alex and Manny enjoying a brotherly moment after a
after dinner and conversation with family and friends

After a full day of merriment, cheers and food our family members slowly began giving and receiving warm hugs; words of love and thanks. Slowly making their way to their respective homes. After they left, I sat in my favorite couch reflecting on my good fortune. Thanks to my wife, the day was filled with warmth, love and happiness. I made myself a promise to love and hold them all dear always.