This time, I was visiting friends in Alabama, and here’s my foodie report.

The most important thing is that I got to go to a Waffle House just in time for National Waffle Week, September 5 – 11. This was serendipitous, as I had never been to a Waffle House (gasp) and I didn’t know it was National Waffle Week. I only found out about it because I went there for breakfast one morning and saw a poster advertising the “limited time only” special.

As for never having been to a Waffle House, I knew that this was a Southern experience that is considered a rite of passage for all Americans. During my last trip to the South, I did not have the opportunity to go to one, so it was on my “must” list this time around.

In honor of National Waffle Week, Waffle House was offering Apple-Cinnamon Oat Waffles! Now, if that isn’t an invitation to go have waffles, I don’t know what is. They were great. I could taste the apples and the cinnamon, but neither was overwhelming. The waffles had just enough of each. And the oat flour gave them a bit of a nutty edge (There may even have been oat pieces in there, but I’m not sure.) They were a really nice treat for a vacation. Remember, you can still have them through Saturday, so hurry.

Okay, enough about waffles. Onto butterbeans. On the 3^rd and 4^th, the town of Pinson, in the greater Birmingham area, held its 5^th annual Butterbean Festival. It was your basic street fare, with food, crafts, merchants, and kiddie rides (including a couple of camels—I don’t know how I feel about that). Considering that it was a butterbean festival, I expected butterbeans to be more prevalent than they were; however, I had a pretty delicious bowl of baked butterbeans and washed it down with freshly made lemonade and chased it with peanut butter ice cream dots (that’s the subject of another blog). But the biggest news to come out of the Pinson Butterbean Festival is that they set a Guinness World Record…for the biggest pot of baked beans! That’s right, they had a big ol’ pot of beans cooking on an elevated platform, where spectators could come and take a peek. That pot o’ beans made history. The pot contained 1,010.65 gallons of butterbeans, which they then sold to the public. And I got to see it and eat it! Wooo! Here’s the story at Guinness World Records:

and here’s some MORE:

Golden Flakes brand of snack foods is based in Birmingham, and their tag line is “The South’s Original Potato Chip.” Established in the 1920s, Golden Flake became a staple snack of Alabama when the company was purchased by Paul “Bear” Bryant, the head football coach for the University of Alabama’s football team, the Crimson Tide. While I was browsing the gift shop at the Union Station in Montgomery, I spotted Golden Flakes dill pickle potato chips. As I found this an unusual flavor, I, of course, had to try it. Well, what can I say? They tasted like dill pickles. Um, I guess if you love dill pickles, you’ll like these. Or maybe not. I’m not sure. I didn’t get the chance to try other Golden Flake flavors or products, but it gives me something to look forward to.

We’ve all heard about the South’s trademark fried green tomatoes, but did you know about its fried string beans? I didn’t. I do now, and I can even say that I tried them. You can pretty much fry anything and it will taste good, and string beans are no exception. They were really good, especially dipped in the jalapeno dressing they came with at the restaurant where I ate them. (It is a mark of shame upon me that I didn’t have any fried green tomatoes. Next time.)

And, finally, there was my visit to Priester’s Pecan factory. It’s basically like a Cracker Barrel restaurant—porch and rocking chairs included—except that it features pecan products. Downstairs are the pecan shop, gift shop, and restaurant. You can get food and treats like ice cream, but unlike Cracker Barrel, this is set up buffet style and the choices don’t even come close. But what does it matter? You’re there for the pecans! I always pick up a bag of pecans or pecan pieces when I’m in the South because they’re so much cheaper there than elsewhere. I got myself a 5-pound bag of pieces for about $30 ($6 per lb.). That’s a great deal considering that I often have to pay twice that much or more ($12 to $16 per lb.). I once paid $18/lb. at a candy shop. I wised up and started buying in bulk online. But while I’m in the South, I buy some there and I’m good for a year (keep them refrigerated or frozen if you buy in bulk). You can tour the factory from upstairs and watch as the staff make various products below, from pralines to pies to candy. And to top it all off, you can sample the goodies in the store. On my trip, I tried honey-glazed, cinnamon, key lime (wow! on that one), and peach pecans, pecan divinity, and other yummies. (They also have a Georgia location.) I was left with only one question: Is it PEE-cans or Pah-CAHNS?

So, that was my culinary adventure in Alabama. Since I’ve gotten back, I haven’t been able to get THAT song out of my head. I want to share my insanity with you, so I’ll say ciao until next week and leave you with these immortal words from Lynard Skynard:

Sweet home Alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet Home Alabama
Lord, I’m coming home to you

Okay, enough of that.

There’s an episode of Seinfeld wherein Jerry and Elaine have to get on a particular flight. The reservation clerk tells them that there are only two seats available: one in coach and one in first class. Jerry jumps on the first-class ticket. When Elaine asks him why he gets to go first class and she has to go coach, he tells her, “You’ve never flown first class, so you won’t know what you’re missing.” I learned just how true that statement is.

Let me just backtrack one second here. Looking at some flights online, I discovered that for a round-trip flight from Denver to London in first class, British Airways charges—are you ready for this?—$20,000!! Seriously. Go online and check it out. And I thought, “What the hell could they possibly give you to make it worth $20,000?” Nothing could be worth that much. But that got me thinking about my experience flying business class.

Last year, I was working for a group of travel magazines and I went on a press trip to France, sponsored by the French tourism board. I flew Air France, and because I was a journaliste Américaine, they bumped me up from coach to business class, which is just a hair’s difference from first class (more on that later). And, friends, let me tell you, it was like nothing I’ve ever experienced on a flight.

First, the flight attendants come around and offer to take your coat from you (if you have one). They go and hang the coats on some special gold-plated hooks (nah, just kidding). They come around with reading material and a fully stocked bar. You can have a mixed drink, wine, beer, whatever (and we’re not talking cheap stuff here—I had a port that was divine). The roomy, bucket-style seats fully recline and there are pockets in which to store things (books, food items, etc.). In one of the pockets, there was a complimentary travel kit—a purse-like pouch that contained eye shades, ear plugs, a shoe horn, a little container of lotion, and the tiniest little toothbrush and toothpaste I’ve ever seen. Oh, and socks. Yeah, socks. So you can take your shoes off, slip on the socks, and recline. (I guess that’s assuming you don’t have your own socks.)

The comfort my seat and the relative quiet of business class were really helpful to me, particularly on my way back from France. I caught some French cooties while I was there and was quite sick on the flight home (of course the cooties couldn’t wait one more day until I was home in my bed to take me down). I had a fever and was achy and the reclining seat, pillow, and blanket made my flight so much more tolerable than it would have been in coach. That is, if you discount the business man sitting next to me who drank a few scotches, a couple of glasses of red wine with his dinner (which he practically licked off his plate), and proceeded to snore the snore of a drunken sot. He sounded like a wild boar. Other than that, it was great.

And the difference between first and business class? I peeked in on first class and it’s a really nice set-up. The seats are spaced slightly farther apart and probably makes anyone sitting in one feel like their sitting in the captain’s chair on the U.S.S. Enterprise. And each seat has an individual console, where you can perch your drinks and books or whatever. I don’t know if anything else is different, but I was pretty happy in business class.

But now for the important stuff—the food. When it was meal time, the flight attendants came around with white linen cloths to put over our trays. We had menus from which to make our selections. They walked around with baskets of baguettes and, later, fruit.

With our chosen meals, we got:

*Miniature salt and pepper shakers—no little paper packets that contain three grains of each.
*Little bottles of lemon-flavored extra-virgin olive oil for our gourmet salads.
*REAL utensils! No sporks. Real forks, spoons, and knives. I almost fell out of my seat.

Here was the dinner menu on the way to France:

Choice of hors d’oeuvre
*Duck foie gras terrine accompanied by gingerbread and onion marmalade with grapes
*Tomato crumble with goat cheese, Breton seaweed vinaigrette and baby spinach

Choice of Main Courses
*Leg of lamb accompanied by mashed potatoes with green olives and sugar snap peas sauteed in olive oil
*Poached filled of cod with scallion vinaigrette, basmati rice with cinnamon and sauteed vegetables
*The plat du jour: Fillet of duckling, baked, served with caper sauce, accompanied by buttered broccoli and carrot puree

Cheese Platter
Wedges of Camembert, Comté, and Sainte-Maure with crackers

Choice of Dessert
*Pineapple almond cake
*Chocolate cake with mango filling
*Sherbet served with cookies
*Fresh fruit
Espresso at the espresso bar

The Light Meal consisted of Middle Eastern-style chicken brochette, zucchini and carrot salad, tomato and mozzarella brochette, cantal cheese and Poilâne bread.

In addition, they offered a full beverage menu and wine list.

They had me at the white linen.

The dinner menu on the way back was different, involving tournedos of beef and fillet of red snapper in citrus sauce. While none of these main courses really suit my tastes, I got by very nicely on the side dishes and cheeses. My god, the cheeses! They were fresh and delicious, and they would have been a costly course in a restaurant. The food was perfectly prepared—truly restaurant quality—and I wondered where they prepared it all. I half expected that if I peeked in, I’d see Jacques Pépin cooking in the canteen.

So, now that I’d experienced the luxuriousness of business class and partaken of its epicurean pleasures, how would I go back to the cramped, loud, annoying coach cabin and quell my rumbling stomach with cold sandwiches and wilted store-bought salad? Easy. I’m broke and I have no choice. I bring my food from home and, if needed, my own sporks. But even if I had it, I still wouldn’t pay 20 grand for the privilege of first class, no matter what delectable morsels they try and tempt me with.

Have a great, safe, and healthy Thanksgiving everyone!

I do remember some things about the food, though: the fish and chips in London and learning that Brits like mayonnaise with their chips (French fries to us Yanks), which almost made me barf. (Italians, in general, are not fond of mayo.) Eating weisswurst (white sausage) in Switzerland, which, never being a big meat eater, again, almost made me barf. Having my first grasshopper—a creamy, minty drink—at the Lido in Paris. Once again, my cookies were threatening to toss. (I’m starting to see a pattern here. Not all my food experiences in Europe were bad, though. It just seems like I’m remembering the bad ones.)

My parents, however, decided to make a little foodie adventure for themselves. They decided that they wanted to try the pizza in every place we visited. It was a noble idea, since pizza is interpreted different ways everywhere you go. I don’t recall having pizza in London (which may have been a good thing). I remember sitting in a trattoria-type place in Paris and my mother declaring, “I want to try pizza in every city.” So, I guess it was my mother’s idea. And it would’ve been great if it hadn’t been for the fact that my father had gotten sick in London and was acting like a brat. But I digress.

Anyway, I remembered this little experiment of my mother’s this week while I was in Denver and had lunch at a place called Beau Jo’s, where they proudly serve up Colorado Mountain Pies. Now, my very first thought was probably the same one you had upon seeing the name. Yes, it’s an unfortunate name, to be sure. But it is not at all what it sounds like. It is, in fact, Beau Jo’s specialty pizza.

If you’re from New York, one thing you have to remember when trying pizza in any other location: DO NOT EXPECT NEW YORK-STYLE PIZZA. You will not get it. I don’t care if the joint advertises “New York-Style Pizza.” They’re lying. It’s not possible—unless they import New York City water. That’s right. It’s the water in New York City that makes pizza, bread, bagels, etc., taste as good as they do. I’m not making this up. It’s a well-known fact. I have two friends who were originally from Brooklyn and who now live in E. Stroudsburg, PA. They told me recently that there are two pizza joints in their town that make great pizza. Why? They import NYC water. I say this because I’ve have pizza in different places around the world and around the country and it’s never like New York pizza. But that’s not to say that pizza outside of New York isn’t good—it’s just different.

The history of Beau Jo’s goes back to the 1880s, when a French fur trapper named Pete ZaPigh followed the Colorado Gold Rush to Idaho Springs. Apparently not very adept at anything else, he developed a recipe for pizza, which was lost for 75 years and resurrected in 1973. An amusing account of it can be read HERE. I don’t know how much of it is true, but it’s now a Colorado legend.

So, I’m at Beau Jo’s and I decide to try a mountain pie. I was really tempted to try a prairie pie, the difference being that a mountain pie has a thick crust, whereas the prairie pie has a thin crust. I love thin-crust pizza, but they’re famous for their mountain pies, so that’s what I got. They have quite a variety on offer, but I went with the vegetarian combo: Roma tomatoes, mushrooms, green peppers, red onions, black olives, sauce, and mozzarella. The crust is thick and bread-like and quite hearty, which, I suspect, is why they call it a mountain pie. It kind of has a rugged, stick-to-your-ribs quality. They offer numerous styles, such as Yukon (smoked Canadian bacon, artichoke hearts, Roma tomatoes, sauce, mozzarella, and smoked provolone), Highland Mary (ranch dressing, black olives, Roma tomatoes, chicken breast slices, mozzarella, parmesan, and fresh basil), and Green Chile Cheeseburger (ranch dressing, ground beef, Roma tomatoes, red onions, fire-roasted green chiles, Monterey Jack cheese, and mild cheddar). You can also build your own pie, choosing from a list of sauces and toppings. For those who prefer a gluten-free diet, they offer gluten-free prairie pies in several varieties.

Here’s the funny part. The pies (both kinds) come in various sizes, from individual-size pies to X-Large pies cut into 12 slices. On the menu, it has a weight chart with prices, and you can choose a one-pounder, two-pounder, three-pounder, or five-pounder. Now, being the half-wit that I am, and not reading it properly, I initially thought that it was a kind of diet thing, where you decide on the size of the pizza based on your weight. My dining companion, Andi, said to me, “No, it’s the size of the pizza, not the size of the person.” I looked at her expression, a mix of bemusement and amazement, and busted out laughing. Thank goodness she did, too.

They have several locations in Colorado and their menu (as well as a nutrition and allergen chart for their products) can be viewed at Beaujos.com. As Andi said, their menu is complicated, and you might indeed have a difficult time making a decision, but it’s been around since 1973, so, evidently, it must get easier for regulars as time goes on.

One note thought: If you order the Honey Cheese Bread, be prepared for an unsusual experience. It’s exactly what it sounds like—honey and cheese on a focaccia-like bread. Personally, it was a bit too odd for me, but, hey, it might just be up your alley. It was definitely an interesting experience, which I always appreciate, even if the outcome isn’t to my liking.

Today, October 16, is my birthday, and I’m enjoying a beautiful Colorado day, with clear blue skies and temperatures in the 70s. Back home in New York, my family and friends are not as lucky and I hope things improve soon. Have a great week, everyone, wherever you are. I’m discovering lately that life really is what you make of it, so make the most of it.

Ciao.

Photo of pizza: Courtesy of www.nyflyingpizza.com

The adventure begins…

We had a few adventures on the road, starting with that first Sunday. In fact, starting with the first 20 minutes. We’d just gotten on the road in CO and we were driving on a two-lane canyon road. The vehicle right in front of us was a truck pulling a camper pulling a boat on a trailer. The trailer blew a tire and we watched in horror and this boat fishtailed more and more wildly. Finally, this sucker blew right off its hitch, veered violently and flew off the right side of the road, going briefly airborne, until it plowed in a massive cloud of dirt, taking out someone’s mailbox and landing who-knows-how. We kept expecting the driver to notice but he never did. Andi and I tried to get the driver’s attention by honking, flashing the headlights, and waving our arms out the windows. Nothing. Finally, 20 miles later, Andi was able to pass him, whereupon she blew her horn and I held up a sign I’d written, saying, “BOAT GONE! PULL OVER!” The look on that poor man’s face. It was a serious situation but I almost peed my pants. They pulled over, as did we and five other drivers, all of whom were trying to get this guy’s attention. I really did feel sorry for the couple, who were probably on their way to a nice little lakeside vacation. They were actually quite lucky that it went off the side of the road to the right. Had it gone left, it would have plowed into on-coming traffic; had it gone backwards, Andi and I would’ve been toast. Lesson learned: When towing large vehicles, always have extended side view mirrors so you can see what’s going on behind you.

While in South Carolina, we were going to go farther east to travel along the Atlantic coast but we had a little problem. You know those loud, annoying buzzing sounds that interrupt your music on the radio that are followed by the words, “This was a test. This was only a test of National Emergency Broadcast system. If there had been a real emergency…” Well, that is one sound you never want to hear NOT followed by the words, “This is only a test.” Yep, there we were, driving along, la, la, la, making our way toward Hilton Head to go up to Myrtle Beach, when that sound came on the radio. Okay, in truth, we were already watching some pretty ominous clouds above and behind us. Andi had said to me, “We have to be careful. These big thunder boomers down here spawn tornadoes.” Well, that annoying buzzing sound on the radio was not followed by those calming words, “This is only a test.” No. Instead, the announcer came on to tell us that a tornado had touched down and was heading east at 10 miles per hour, right where we were going! Needless to say, we stayed on the road we were and high-tailed it north as quickly as we could.

But the real specialness of this trip was the FOOD!! We stopped for a few hours in New Orleans, which is a foodie heaven. I stopped in at the famous Central Grocery, where I had an original muffuletta (click here for the history). We walked around and it was just so hot and humid that it was in our best interest to get daiquiris—two for one at Mango’s! Andi had a piña colada, while I had a mango-green apple mix. YUM! No trip to NOLA would be right without have beignets at the famous Cafe Du Monde. They were three for $1.82 and with a cup of chicory coffee, you’re looking at an amazing (and historic) dessert for a mere $3.64. Click here for the history of chicory coffee.

Then there were the throwed rolls in Foley, AL. I kept seeing these signs along the Gulf Coast for throwed rolls. We just so happened to be spending the night in Foley, a beach town and home of throwed rolls. They are a well-known specialty of Lambert’s Cafe, “The Only Home of Throwed Rolls.” (That tag is actually a registered trademark.) I went in for a half-dozen rolls to go and asked why they were called throwed rolls. The cashier told me it’s because they (the servers) throw them at you. That’s right. They come around with hot rolls on a serving cart and throw the rolls at customers. I guess if you go there often enough you get really good at catching. They were pretty good and served me well as breakfast and snack items over the next few days. They were fresh and nicely browned and had a tasty, slightly sweet flavor. Not bad at $2.75 for a half-dozen. Lambert’s is reminiscent of Cracker Barrel, with country antiques/Americana decor. If you’re ever in Foley, AL (or Ozark, MO, or Sikeston, MO), it’s a fun place to stop for breakfast, lunch, or dinner. You can even buy stuff at the store or online HERE. I picked up a jar of sorghum molasses. I’m not sure what I’m going to do with it yet, but I’ll find something.

And, of course, there were all the farmer’s markets and road-side stands that we passed along the way, from guys selling watermelons from the back of their pickup trucks to the wonderful little country store that had ducks and chickens in their front yard, sold local products, and offered barbecue dinners, complete with red-and-white checkered tablecloths set on a wraparound porch.

Somewhere in the South, I encountered deep-fried peanuts, or as Southerners refer to them, Shell-N-Alls. They are exactly what they sound like: unshelled peanuts deep-fried so they can be eaten shell and all. The frying softens the shells to make them edible. I said edible, not palatable. The only real benefit I see in these is that they’re easier to eat if you’re in a car or walking around a festival. You know I had to try them, right?

This country is huge. And within it are so many different landscapes (we were by mountains, desert, beach, forests, swamps, and urban landscapes), with so many different people, and so many different kinds of foods. Being able to try all these new and wonderful things reminded me of how lucky I am that I’m able to partake of these things and how there are so many others in the world who are not as fortunate. While I would never recommend dining out all the time (particularly in our current economic crisis), I do encourage supporting local establishments, where you’re sure to get good food at good prices, and supporting local producers. It’s better for you and for your community.

Have a great week, all. Peace.

Now, when I talk about food on the road, I am NOT talking about stopping at a McDonald’s or Wendy’s. I’m talking about the little places where the locals eat (if it’s not too scary—sometimes, local places can be scary). I’m talking about the little mom & pop places, where the food is locally grown and honestly made by people who have run these joints for years, possibly even for generations.

And since it’s summer, we hope to encounter some road-side stands (where people sell stuff right off their farms), farmer’s markets (where everything is fresh and cheap), and maybe even a food festival or two. Who knows, we may even eat at Guy Fieri’s next favorite place for Diners, Drive-Ins & Dives. I don’t know, we haven’t made any definitive plans. That’s what’s going to make this an adventure.

We do plan on stopping in New Orleans, where I plan on getting a muffuletta. A muffuletta is a sandwhich made with capicola, salami, mortadella, marinated olive salad, and emmentaler and provolone cheeses on a thick, dense, focaccia-like bread. It was created in 1906 by Sicilian immigrant Salvatore Lupo, who owned an Italian market on Decatur Street in the French Quarter called the Central Grocery Co. It is the olive salad that is considered to make it unique, and it is one of the quintessential foods of Nawlins. Even though several of the ingredients are meat, you can get a vegetarian version in some places.

I’m hoping to find a good absinthe house. Now that it’s been legalized in the U.S. again, New Orleans is the best place to get it. Back in the early part of the 20th century, it was THE place to get it. I’d also like to hit one of the more well-known (but not overly expensive) mainstays of The Big Easy, such as Commander’s Palace. I probably would not be able to afford Brennan’s or Emeril’s places right now (I’m on a pretty tight budget). So, if anyone has any suggestions, please offer ‘em up!

My road companion, by the way, is writer Andi Marquette. We both hope to promote our work and network at the writer’s conference. We will also be seeing old friends and meeting new ones. Andi has a series of books that she calls her New Mexico series. The first two, Land of Entrapment and State of Denial, are out by Regal Crest, and she hopes to to see the third installment, Ties that Bind, out before the end of the year. She also has a “space opera,” the first of which is called Friends in High Places. You can find out more about her and her books HERE.

I’ll fill you in on my food adventures when I return. I will also be having a guest blogger in the next couple of weeks, which I think will be really fun. Her name is Debby Maugins and she has been involved in food writing and styling for about 25 years.I hope everyone stops by to see what she will be sharing.

Hope everyone is enjoying the summer…now that we’ve actually gotten one! (For those of you reading this in the southern hemisphere, I hope your winter is a mild one. )

Let’s have a taste of the Southwest…

I learned on this trip that what differentiates New Mexican cuisine from Mexican cuisine is largely the chiles used. New Mexican uses a lot of red and green chiles that are indigenous to the Southwest. In fact, green chiles are a staple in the Southwest. They are used in or on just about everything (even beer!). Mexican food favors jalapeño peppers (as well as poblanos) and vegetables, pork, chicken, or fish as the main ingredients.

Tex-Mex, as we know it today, is a 20th-century invention and the so-called “Tex-Mex chili” was a combo of cowboy and ranch food and Mexican dishes that includes beef, something that wasn’t very common in Mexican foods. I’m not sure that I even want to address Cali-Mex. I’m not an expert on any of these cuisines, but they have their origins south of the present-day border with Mexico and also with the Spanish, who colonized Mexico and parts of the Southwest. Then, like all cuisines, it evolved based on region, the cultural background and traditions of the inhabitants of that region and their economic status, and locally available products. If you want a better explanation than the one I just gave (and I don’t blame you if you do), here are a couple of sites that might help:

http://www.yelp.com/list/mexican-food-vs-new-mexican-food-albuquerque
http://whatscookingamerica.net/CynthiaPineda/SouthWestCooking.htm

The fun thing about traveling (for foodies, anyway) is tasting the local cuisine and eating where the locals eat (or, at least, the places that aren’t too scary). Unless I need a quick, cheap lunch, I try really hard to avoid the ubiquitous fast-food joints. The same burger you can get in a McDonald’s in New York is the same burger you can get at a McDonald’s in Fort Lauderdale, Sacramento, Bangor, or Minnetonka, Minnesota. When I travel, I want new and different culinary experiences. (I was in California once taking one of those touristy bus tours and the guide offered to take my friend and me to Nathan’s for lunch. I explained that I live in Brooklyn, about 5 minutes from the original Nathan’s in Coney Island, and going to Nathan’s in Hollywood held no appeal for me. Aside from the fact that I don’t eat hot dogs, that would have been a ridiculous thing for me to do. Pink’s, on the other hand, would have made far more sense for me…if I ate hot dogs, that is.)

I visited Albuquerque, Santa Fe, and Taos and here are a few examples of the fun and delicious food I sampled.

The “Weird Sandwich” at O’Neill’s Pub in Albuquerque. This has absolutely nothing to do with traditional Southwestern cuisine, but it was an interesting experience I wanted to share. The Weird Sandwich is always a vegetarian offering and it changes daily. On the day I went, it was a tweaked turkey Jack sandwich: Monterey jack cheese and green chiles on sourdough toast, and instead of turkey…apples! I know, it sounds strange but I have to say that it was rather tasty. Weird but tasty. While I was there, I also tried the Ace Pear Cider and thought it was simply delicious. Crisp and refreshing, sweet but not cloying. I’m going to have to try and find it locally.

While in Albuquerque, I also ate at the Frontier diner. The Frontier has been a staple of the area since 1971 and is particularly popular with students at the University of New Mexico, which is right across the street. It has good food at good prices, served with a generous portion of Americana for ambience (lots of John Wayne-related stuff). What really struck me was the size of the diner—it had three huge rooms that seemed to go on forever, something quite unheard of in New York.

In Taos, I ate at Orlando’s New Mexican Cafe. It’s a wonderful little restaurant that has charming Mexican decor and really great food at reasonable prices. I had a vegetarian burrito with a side of beans and posole. Everything tasted great, but what I was really taken with was their salsa caribe. It’s a chile sauce that is thicker and denser than typical salsas. It had a rich, deep roasted chile flavor and a fabulous smoky aroma. I highly recommend it. It’s pretty hot, so if that’s an issue for you, ask for it on the side. Orlando’s doesn’t have a web site but they’re located at 1114 Don Juan Valdez Lane.

My absolute favorite food experience in New Mexico, however, was Wanda’s Blue Corn Fry Bread at the Taos Pueblo. Entering the pueblo was magical. Ancient adobe structures stand as a living museum to the region’s Taos Indians. There are approximately 2,500 Taos Indians on tribal rolls, and most live outside the Pueblo. About 70 people (some 10-15 families) still live within the Pueblo’s walls and many of them sell their wares, from pottery to jewelry to food. Because it’s so traditional, electricity and running water are not allowed within the Pueblo walls. So it’s quiet—you don’t hear TVs or radios. I did hear two older Puebloan men singing a traditional song while beating on a large drum, which only added to the historic atmosphere.

Wanda has a table set up in the center of the Pueblo, where she makes blue corn fry bread. Essentially, these are just fried dough pancakes. I drizzled some honey on mine, then sprinkled on some cinnamon. My reaction? Oh. My. God. It was awesome!! It was fluffy and crispy at the same time. Light but filling enough to hold me over till dinner. It was so divine that I was still thinking about it long after I’d finished it. I’ve had similar fried dough before—in fact, I have my mother’s version, called Scarpette, in my cookbook—but something made these quite different. I don’t know if it was the blue corn or what, but you have to try them. They are worth the $10 admission price to the Pueblo, money that goes to the tribe. And, even better, you get to visit the oldest continuously occupied community in the United States and learn something about Southwestern history and culture.  The fry bread is the icing on the cake.

I picked up a beautiful ristra while in Taos and I can’t wait to hang it in my kitchen. Ristras are those strands of chile peppers that people hang from ropes inside or outside of their homes. You can find them all over New Mexico, from touristy stores in the plazas to roadside stands. Just be sure you know whether you’re getting treated or untreated chiles. Untreated chiles are just dried chiles that you can use in your cooking. Treated ristras are sprayed with polyurethane or some other coating to preserve them. These are to be used for decorative purposes only. The original purpose of ristras was culinary, but they’re so beautiful that people began wanting them as accents to their homes. So, to keep them from molding or crumbling too easily, they are treated.

I leave you with the 2008 winner of the Chili Verde World Cookoff, Gambler’s Chili by Lauren Ray. Have a great week, everyone.

Gambler’s Chili
Ingredients:
2 lbs. pork tenderloin, cubed
1 cup coarsely chopped onion
14 oz. Swanson chicken broth
10 oz can or bottle of green salsa
2 1/2 cups diced green chiles

Spice Mix Ingredients:
3 tsp garlic (minced or mashed)
2 ½ Tbsp chicken base (bouillon)
1 tsp celery salt
1 Tbsp flour
2 tsp oregano
1 Tbsp cumin
3 Tbsp diced jalapeno pepper
1 Tbsp dried cilantro (Pendries powder or 3 Tbsp fresh finely chopped)
1 Tbsp green chili powder
*Tabasco (green)
*Salt Salt to taste
Cook additional 15-20 minutes

Instructions:

1. Brown pork and drain
2. Add onion & chicken broth, then simmer 1 hour, stirring often to avoid sticking
3. Add spice mix and green chili salsa, then simmer 1 hour
4. Add diced green chiles, then add salt and tabasco to taste
5. Simmer another hour and serve.

Preparation time: about 1/2 hour
Cooking time: 3 hours
Makes: 2 1/2 quarts

Serves: about 10

[Photos: Green chili--www.chiligifts.com; Taos Publo--Jerry Driendl, from www.taospueblo.com; ristra--www.thechileshop.com.]