Category: good eats

Noooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

Have you ever known a place that, in your memories, takes on a dream quality?

It can be almost any place. I have lots of them.

But one that shows up in my dreams quite often is this really greasy spoon in Las Cruces. A college hangout. Oh did I have some fun times there, and the tasty green chile cheese burgers that still haunt me.

That place is called Dick’s Cafe.

It’s a place with plastic windows covered with a greasy film. It has torn vinyl seats and ugly formica tables. The desert sun pours in through those windows, lighting up the room and the grimy linoleum floor.

And there is a jukebox. Oh that jukebox. I used to ask cute cowboys for their pocket change and they would give it to me. My best friend and I would play our faves. And we smiled, and laughed, and told stories and picked on each other and occasionally picked up on each other. It is genuinely the stuff of my dreams. All the individual memories blended together into one beautiful and happy amalgam.

When visiting Las Cruces, my pulse still quickens driving past Dick’s. Back in the day, we would drive by real slow and survey the pickups parked out front. My best friend and I had a game, how many could we recognize. She was always better than me at that, but if we saw a good one, one belonging to a good friend or a particularly cute boy that needed to be flirted with, we’d turn in to the dirt parking lot and grab a coke and some fries. The days went by slow and easy then.

What’s great is that Dick’s has been around since 1959. My best friend’s parents, my surrogate Mom and Dad, have just as fond memories about Dick’s as we do. THAT is an institution, people!

Why am I waxing rhapsodic about Dick’s today?

Because I just read in the Las Cruces Sun News that they had a fire overnight. Article here.

If the physical place is gone, it can live on in my memories. But it would be a sad day for me to have to say goodbye to the actual place.

Just writing this, remembering the days, makes me smile. Fridays at Dick’s were especially fun.

An urgent email went out to my best friend who still lives in Las Cruces for some on the scene reporting…

Tradition

It’s a lovely thing. It’s a way to bind people together (and not in that “I can’t breathe kind of way”), a way to identify each other, a way to mark time.

In my life there are plenty. Cinnamon rolls on Christmas morning. Posole at New Year’s. Ham at Easter.

Noticing a theme here? My traditions do tend to revolve around food.

Fair enough.

When I was living in Albuquerque and working at Sandia Labs, the Friday tradition was happy hour at Gardunos over by Winrock Mall.

Delicious margaritas, happy hour tasties, and Mariachi as a way to end the week. That can’t be bad.

Today I’m enjoying a Bay Area tradition. Observed by most restaurants in the area and also by the cafeteria where I work.

Clam chowder.

: slurp slurp :

Oh yeah, baby. I know it’s Friday when there is a steaming pot of chow-dah at the Cafeteria. As far as I know, it’s homemade on site. This week’s batch isn’t as tasty as last week, but that’s ok. It’s still all kinds of yum on a cold rainy day.

The engineers will line up in droves, often the only time all week they toddle out of their black hole labs to see the light of day. I get in line with my unwashed brothas to savor the aroma.

Lop off a slice of sourdough, and that’s a little bit of heaven right there on a plastic tray.

So, ya’ll entertain yourselves, I’m enjoying a tradition over heah.

Happy Friday to all.

Countin’ ’em

*sigh* Monday. It’s Monday again. Why God why?!?!?

I guess cuz it has to be.

Granted, I had today off. Not because of the holiday. My company doesn’t give us that one off. Nah. I took a few days vacation.

I was honored, over the weekend, to have a visit from my best friend. She lives in Las Cruces and made quite a long trip to get here. Should have gone easy, but due to inclement weather somewhere or other, she languished in the unfathomably ugly Phoenix airport, cutting short our visit time by several hours.

We hadn’t had the chance to be together in person for quite a while. October, I think, was the last gathering in New Mexico. She hadn’t been this way for years.

The occasion of her visit was to begin her duties as my Matron of Honor (what a terrible thing to call a nice married lady…”matron”, feh!).

Those duties included 1) calming my ass down, 2) helping me look at wedding magazines without crying in anxiety and 3) going with me to choose a wedding dress.

It is that last one, the wedding dress one, where she earned her combat pay.

Despite having been in several weddings, I’ve never had the, uh, agony, pleasure, of going with a friend through the whole dress buying process.

Through the recommendation of a work friend, I found a place in San Francisco (right off Union Square) that you can choose from their “menu” and they make you a custom fit dress. The friend that made the recommend doesn’t have a model perfect bod, and I saw her wedding photos. She looked *stunning*. I figured these were the people to work some magic.

Let’s review. 1) wedding dress shopping, 2) in San Francisco, 3) off Union Square, 4) getting measured.

I. Was. Terrified.

The good news is, as of this year, my friend has been my best friend for, count ’em, twenty years. Yup, met back in 1988. Oh the lives we’ve lived since then.

So I felt comfortable in the presence of The Good Man and The Best Friend to say, “I’m scared.”

And bless them both, they talked me down, fed me breakfast, told me I’d be great and brought me to the fifth story, blonde-wood floored dress shop feeling strong and confident and loved.

As an aside, let me tell you this bit of Too Much Information. At the shop, they hand you a strapless bra, some really awful gold lamé shoes, tell you to strip down and we’ll be right back with dresses for you to try on.

I wore a pair of steel belted control top hose to try to better my chances. So there I stood, shivering in a billowy curtained dressing room wearing black hose, a strapless bra and gold shoes. The urge to wheeze, “anyone want a cocktail” like a Reno waitress was too much to bear.

I stood there, horribly nervous and horribly uncomfortable and I looked over at my friend. She gave me an “it’s going to be ok look” and all I could do was bust out laughing.

The laughing stopped when they slipped the first dress over my head. Who knew I had a waist? Who knew I could actually pull off a strapless?

My friend was brutally honest with me on each dress we tried on and after an hour and a half, I think we’ve settled on a good one.

After that, the rest of the weekend was easy. We did sightseeing and had good eats. I got the rare chance to spend several days with my two most favorite people in the world. And was so gratified to see how well they got along with each other, as well.

I choked back a lot of tears this morning dropping her off at the airport. She has to get home to my two gorgeous goddaughters and her husband as well. I’ll see her again soon, but tonight my heart aches.

I miss my best friend, each day, very much.

Together she and I have learned a lot of lessons.

The most recent, from the dress shop employee.

The key to femininity is:

Spanx and a sash.

And she’s not lying, that sh*t can work wonders!

Most people in this world, if asked to make a party list, can fill a page with a list of friends. I cannot. I have very few friends, but the friends I do have mean everything to me. They are more than friends, they are family.

For that, I am grateful.

Add to that, my friend carted a bag of Hatch grown green chile out here and whipped up a batch of rellenos Sunday night that would make you cry (and I think The Good Man and I did weep, just a little, in gratitude). THAT is love.

Photo below to make you drool.

This is the end, my friend.

S’long 2007, you’ve been a rollicking year. Here on the last day of you, I’ve taken moments, given pause, really, to think back on all the other 364 days of you and assess how it went.

You started off swell. The Cute Boy™ and I moved into the same address back in January. Shackin’ up was a rip snortin’ way to start the year, if I do say so myself. It was a weird, and for me, troubled adjustment period, but adjust we did and soon it was like The Cute Boy™ had always been here. Oh, and the feline too. She’s made my one person lonely home a warm happy place full of life. I got both a partner and a pet in one fell swoop. That alone makes 2007 a year to remember.

Middle of the year was ok too. The weather was nice, road trips were had. Work began troubling me in earnest, but I kept going.

In June, my self-published book was FINALLY properly published (after many fits and starts and errors on the publisher’s side) and listed on Amazon. It was the accomplishment of a dream. More of the beginning rather than a destination, but a huge step on my path and I remain proud of it. A few people have actually even read it!

August/September was a little tough. Both the girl and The Cute Boy™ were miserable at work and sometimes brought that home, making home not always the happiest place. But we talked, a lot. And talked and I cried sometimes and we talked more and then…

September ended, things changed, as they always will, and improvement was soon to follow. And now there is a lot less sad and a lot more joy in our Casita Bonita. Change, while hard, is often a good and necessary thing.

November brought the annual National Novel Writing Month and despite being *sure* I couldn’t do it again this year, that I had nothing left in the well having given it all to my employer, I pulled off a feat even I can’t believe. I wrote over 50,000 in just 15 days. My best record thus far (my third go-round). I learned a lot about myself during this NaNo, not the least of which is that I’m a freak who works extraordinarily well under a tight deadline. Now to figure out how to use that to my advantage.

December brought the Crafty Chica, more (enduring) love, and a shared home in which to celebrate the holidays. Friends and family and The Cute Boy™ and the feline and me. And despite my *freaking out*, as I’m wont to do when I’m insecure about my homemaking abilities, the celebrations came off without a hitch. Good eats were had. Good eats, the normalizing factor in all celebrations.

And I end this year as I ended the last, madly in love and optimistic about the year ahead. Maybe even more optimistic about this year than last. There are a couple happy things up ahead, possibly. And having something to look forward to is always a good thing.

Here, officially, my New Year’s Resolutions:

1) To finish my NaNo book from 2007. (about 10,000-15,000 words to go)

2) To finish my NaNo book from 2008. (about 20,000-30,000 words to go). And once finished, edit, edit, edit….and consider self-publishing this one. It may be the best thing I’ve written so far.

3) Work with my in-home PR and marketing expert on doing something with my self-published books.

4) Take better care of myself physically. Eat a little less, a few more greens and lift a heart rate every once in a while. Doesn’t have to be overly taxing, just have to remember that taking care of me is a priority.

5) Take it a little more easy on myself. I’ve been listening to the song “In the End” from the soundtrack to Shortbus over and over. I find something so heart-tuggingly true in the words.

“…as your last breath begins, you find your demon’s your best friend.”

So here at the end of 2007, on the verge of beginning a new year, may I find a way to become friends with my demons now, long before I take my last breath. That, I believe, is the key to my peace.

And so it is.

Joyous New Year to all!

Image via.

Tummy. Full.

The Cute Boy™ and I pulled off a nice Christmas dinner. Ham, german potato salad, ravioli, and my very own homemade apple crisp that rocked the house. It was a very nice day and I’m grateful. I may get the hang of this entertaining thang yet.

Meanwhile, found this by way of NewMexiKen. I watched it and it touched me.

I’m thankful on this holiday that I have a home to live in, food to eat and friends and family who love me.

This four minute video was created by Mudhouse Advertising who will donate $1 to ArtStreet, a program for the homeless in Albuquerque, for every unique viewing (up to $10,000).

I learned in this video that New Mexico has the third highest poverty rate. Oh Fair New Mexico, the struggle continues.