live. work. dream.

The cold desert winds here at Anza Borrego Park in Southern California are making us stir crazy and insane, but we’re sticking around until our mail arrives by general delivery at the post office.

We also want to visit the Borrego Springs Friday Farmer’s Market one more time.

The local farmers have the most luscious selection of produce, including this weird, local Cherimoya fruit that I’ve never seen before (which is odd because I’m a SoCal native!). I think I’ll crack open my wallet and try it. It must be good if it’s that spendy, right? 

I also want to stock up on the local Fuerte avocados. They only appear in wintertime, and you can’t get them anywhere else because they don’t ship well. You’ve never had a great avocado until you’ve had a Fuerte.

If there’s one thing I miss about SoCal besides my family, it’s the buttery, yummy flavor of the Fuerte. My parents have a tree in their L.A. yard that blossoms during wintertime. Growing up, I had enough guacamole to bathe in.

Jim, meanwhile, is having fantasies about the locally grown tri-tip he saw last week. Maybe he can share it with Wyatt. Anyone else care to indulge in carnivore ecstasy, feel free to stop by.

We’ve been in Southern California longer than we anticipated, but even I, a recovering Angeleno, will admit that the  south end of the state has great winter weather and the best produce in America.

Borrego Springs is a funky, neat little town. I told Jim that maybe we should consider buying a cheap piece of land here to winter in. But then he reminded me; this is California. Nothing’s cheap. And with Moonbeam running for governor, the State’s really in trouble now! We’d better get out soon before we get taxed for breathing.

Our time in L.A. is nearing an end. Over forty days of living in the big city, and we’re getting homesick for our rig. It sits outside under a tree, and the birds are having a party on our roof. It’s time to get the rig out from under the shade, and under a blazing desert sky, where it belongs.

Any time we spend in cities is reassurance that we did the right thing by choosing to live like hillbillies.

We drove on the freeway, and it took us nearly two hours to travel 29 miles. Things are too fast, too crowded and just too much for us.

We’ve had a good visit with the family. Also met some world-renowned canine health professionals and interviewed them for Tripawds. And last week, ate at two of the best Asian restaurants we’ve been to in a while. Both are located in the San Gabriel Valley, where my parents live. These dining experiences reminded us that living in the city isn’t all bad.

Happy Harbor in Rowland Heights served up the best dim sum we’ve had since San Francisco. We also ate at a funky little 40 year old sushi joint in the Hacienda Heights ghetto, Akasaka.

We haven’t had sushi in over a year. We just have a thing about eating sushi anywhere other than the coast. It’s just wrong, and to us, the freshest sushi you can get is definitely worth the wait.

The plan is to leave here on Sunday, after the rains end. We’ll head straight for Slab City, where we a warm desert is waiting for us, with dark night skies and solitude.

Since childhood I have always had a taste for the finer things in life. I remember being about 11 years old when my parents would take us out for dinner at a favorite Italian restaurant, I would order the prawn scampi. Fresh lobster is another all time favorite. I will never forget my mother telling me, on many more than one occasion, that I have Champagne tastes on a beer budget.

Believe me, I still yearn for the taste of those finer things. But my budget is more suited for sparkling water now, and I do not mean Perrier either. After stretching our one-year roadtrip budget to last nearly three years, and making frequent reality checks on the savings we are still spending, I have become quite good at letting those tastes linger on my palate praetendere.

In years past we have enjoyed Moët & Chandon on New Year’s eve, though Cristal was my favorite. But in past years, we used to actually make money too! This year, it was Trader Joe’s finest. And that’s OK. Long ago, I came to terms with getting what you pay for, and paying for what you get. Yes, those finer things in life taste good, but they never last long enough. There was even a time when spending over $100 on a bottle of bubbly made me feel good, but that was when we could afford such things. Now I know what matters most is the memories.

Friendship, good health and good times. Happiness, well being, comfort and prosperity.

These are the things we toasted to ring in the new year with our good friends Martha and Ralph and the Oaktown pack. And these things are what we wish upon all our friends and family. Keeping in mind, that is, to prosper need not necessarily require being wealthy.

I for one, will take my debt-free lifestyle with a sip of California sparkling wine over an upside down mortgage and French Champagne any day. Cheers!

I’ve come to realize my birthdays will never be the same. After forty years of big hallowed birthday blow out bashes, the last three on the road have been, for lack of a better word, calm. But that is not to say I didn’t enjoy my, ahem, 43rd birthday. René has a knack for brightening every day of my life. And Halloween this year was no exception. At least we weren’t hiding out from trick or treaters.

Any time I get to go out for a good piece of meat is a good time if you ask me. And I got just that at the Silverado casino. Note the key word here being good. My prime rib was not excellent, nothing to write home about really – then what am I doing here, you ask – but it was prime rib! It came complete with all the fixins (albeit no Yorkshire pudding), a decent soup and salad bar, and best of all, it was cheap! Though one would think the cocktails you pay for in a casino might actually include some liquor.

Considering there is really not much to choose from here in Fernley, NV when it comes to a night on the town, the Silverado was obviously the place to be. And we finished our meal in time to meet fellow full-timers Jenn and Johnny in Jake’s Lounge. So we didn’t spend my birthday alone either.

Watching the locals served as ample entertainment too. I just don’t believe we’ll be living here for the next few weeks, in a place where a man in black face – from head to toe – and fake dreads can win a costume contest, when a large Mexican chicken clearly deserved first prize. I swore years ago I would never step foot in Reno again, but I digress, yet again.

Celebrating on Halloween, the big question is always, “What did I do on my birthday?” Jenn told us about all the apple trees at the RV park where they are staying. So on my actual birthday we went apple-picking and I made my fresh apple sauce, to go with my most excellent pork chop birthday dinner.

If you missed my applesauce recipe video from last year, here is a rerun for you …

So, another birthday down. No big deal really, considering I celebrate every day as just another great day (Jerry taught me that). You see, if you ask me, we are all aging at the same speed. So one’s age in respect to others is irrelevant. Therefore, birthdays are no big deal. You are only as old as you think you are. Believe this, and you will never feel “old” – either that, or you will be miserable.

When we passed through Louisiana last year, we got a taste of the New Orleans night life. But even though we spent time with a crawfish farmer in Creole country, we never got to experience the true flavor of the deep south.

We had to wait until we got all the way back up to Colorado for some authentic crawfish étouffée and fried catfish. Huh?

Yup. Our friends Lilla and Neal hail from Colorado Springs but have deep roots in Lousiana. And when we discovered they just purchased their own little piece of paradise near Westcliffe, CO, we decided to meet these fun folks and find out what developing some raw land is really like. Being treated to some serious southern fare for dinner was an added bonus.

Lilla and Neal have connections back home who send them provisions unavailable in the Rockies, like blue crab claws, fresh gulf shrimp, and crawfish. And while I refuse to call crawfish “seafood” – They live in the mud! – I will admit they are quite tasty. Especially how Neal prepared them in a rich étouffée which must have contained about six sticks of butter.

Apparently, the secret to good étouffée is a good roux. And Neal’s secret is that he found a good roux in a jar. Oops! Sorry, secret no more. But seriously, preparing roux is difficult, and it’s not the type of intensive food preparation one undertakes in a pop-up tent trailer. And neither is fried catfish, but they did. And I’m glad they did.

It is now obvious that the trick to good fried catfish is coating the fillets with mustard before dredging them in seasoned flour. Then frying them fast, in lots of hot oil, which Neal did outside on a camping grill.

We tried frying fish in our trailer once and the smell lingered for about a week. Kinda like how this rich meal lingered with us long after Lilla and Neal left us to hang out on their property while we continued our search for a little paradise of our own. We didn’t need to eat again for days. But we did, because they left us with the leftovers.

During our stay in the Hill Country, I found a great article in Texas Monthly called “The Best Small Town Cafes in Texas,” and mapped out our eating route where we would get to try out some of these hidden gems. If you’ll be traveling through the Lone Star State, I highly recommend printing yourself a copy of this article and keeping it handy.

If there’s ever a state that could turn me into a carnivore, Texas would be it. As we drove across West Texas and into the Hill Country, BBQ aromas wafted out from so many eateries along the way, that, even I, a 23-year vegetarian, had a hard time turning down the flesh.

But I stayed true to my convictions, because we all know that aromas are oftentimes more powerful than taste. Whenever I get close to pondering what a spare rib would taste like after all these years, it’s pretty easy for me to turn it down, once I consider what meat would do to my guts (ick), and the guilt I would feel after eating it.

Luckily, as I discovered at Paula Deen’s restaurant in Savannah, southern cooking has a huge variety of side dishes (some with vegetables!) that I enjoyed, as well as catfish done up every way imaginable. Plus, with the Tex Mex influence, I was happily chowing down on beans, tortillas and all sorts of mismashes of southern and Mexican dishes at the same sitting (like homemade mac and cheese and pinto beans!) wherever I went.

Granted, most of the food in Texas is made with a TON of sugar, bacon fat and salt, but if you’re an easy-going vegetarian like I am and can look the other way, then you won’t starve. You won’t stay skinny (check out these Texas-sized onion rings!), but you’ll certainly eat some of the best downhome cooking in the U.S.A.

All things in moderation, right?

Not when it comes to  Allen’s Fried Chicken in Sweetwater! This home cookin’ haven was listed in the Texas Monthly article as Ma Allens, and has to be one of if not the best regional food experience from our entire trip to date.

The food is served family style, and there’s lots of it. Both food and that down home family feeling that is. We waited in line outside the small nondescript building for just a few minutes before joining a party of bikers from Lubbock, at a table with teo seats left.

These good folks were practically regulars, and knew what dishes to ask for, like butter potatoes! But the dishes kept coming, roast beef, cole slaw, okra, squash, mashed potatoes, potatoe salad, green beans, pea salad, creamed corn, macaroni and cheese, yams, homebaked rolls … and of course a massive pile of some of the best fried chicken Jim has ever had. Sorry mom.

Moderation? not in Texas.

I really don’t think it was the fact that we were hung way over from SXSW partying the night before, but I swear, the breakfast we had at Dan’s Hamburgers in Austin’s East Side ranked up there among the best best biscuits and gravy we’ve ever had in the United States.

Founded in 1973, this local chain used to be called “Dan and Fran’s,” until the couple split up. They each went their own way, and started their own separate restaurants. We only tried Dan’s, but next time we’re back in Austin, we’ll be sure to sample Fran’s fare too.

Go to Dan’s for breakfast, and if your eyes are bleary like ours were, make it easy on yourself and just order the #19 Special. For just $3.69, you get a heaping of eggs, toast, biscuits and gravy, and sausage too.

And believe me, if you’ve been hanging out with crazy Austinites like our friend Skinny Chef, you’re gonna need it!

So, about those Days of the Nü …

That NüRVers Rally at the Lazy L&L was an opportunity to attend the first real rally of sorts for full-timing hipsters. And by real, I mean rally-goes actually registered. But if you didn’t go because of the registration fee, you missed out. Our gracious hosts used those fees well.

We all had sweet sites with full hookups, and everyone received goody bags with cool schwag including the first official NüRVers T-Shirt. Ladies received some of Cat’s new Starspun all natural mineral makeup, and of course the gents got sample kits of Dri-Wash waterless RV cleaner. But did I mention the open bar?

Yes, throughout the Days of the Nü we were priveliged to have at our disposal a full bar of only the best bottles. Many of which I’m pretty certain got emptied, all of which I’m sure cost more than those reg fees would cover on top of the campground cost and commemoritive apparel.

Which reminds me of some important words of advice for anyone who plans to hook up with the Nü Crew down the road: Pace yourself. The morning after René and I arrived at the Lazy L&L, we weren’t feeling so hot. And that’s putting it politely. It might have been the gin, or maybe the wine, quite possibly the rum; but most likely all of the above. With a few days to go, we intended to take it easy. But then came Luau night, and I am not one to pass up free mai tais. Especially excellent ones in a big bowl! Besides, it gave us a chance to use our coconut cups again.

It was hard to top each previous night when it came to the food and fanfare for this fun crowd. Somehow we managed to though. Our pot luck meals were tasty smorgasborgs, with plenty of variety. From Damian’s grilled Spam for The Luau to Brian’s Thai noodles for Fiesta Night – give ‘em a break, he’s Canadian eh – there was plenty for all tastes and diet preferences.

For those who helped plan this party by editing the online worksheets, thank you for your time but it was all for naught. “Rally” organizers decided to eschew the itinerary, which worked out for the best. Six cool RV couples got to know each other, in person if you can believe that. And a fun time was had by all. We skipped the intended seminar schedule, togetherness outing and door prize games to focus on having a good time. That, and getting pretty trashed.

But René did host her stitch and bitch crochet lesson, and I hear Angie is keeping it up. Us guys got a lesson on keeping rigs clean, talked shop, and geeked out on my hitch. You see, the ol’ Superglide had a hard time unhitching when we pulled in. Hence the mass quantities of Bombay Saphire upon our arrival. But we need not go there. Nor do we need ask about the NuRVers thong.

We should, however, ask if “Rally” is really appropriate nomenclature for this portable partay. What would you call it? I for one, like that whole Days of the Nü idea.

To be continued …

Seems like whenever we are deprived of real ethnic food for a while, once we do get anywhere near it, we automatically head for the nearest Chinatown for some dim sum. In our travels, we’ve experienced five official Chinatown districts in: Seattle, Toronto, Manhattan, San Francisco and Los Angeles.

Seattle’s Chinatown is the lamest ever. Some Chamber of Commerce people christened it Chinatown, but it’s really just a place on the rougher edges of town where a lot of Asians live. The city put up some tacky Chinese gates there, but we didn’t buy it. There’s not much to check out, and the dim sum was boring. It was a real disappointment when we visited last November, especially after being cut off from real Asian food for almost all of 2008.

Manhattan’s Chinatown was a good experience, but felt a little too modern and spread out. We haven’t been there for years though, so we’ll give it another try next time we ditch the rig and head into the big city.

Toronto’s Chinatown is the only one on the East Coast worth checking out. With three different Chinatowns in the greater Toronto area, there’s tons of great food, and lots of colorful scenery. We definitely got our dim sum fix there, in fall of 2007. The one thing we didn’t like about it is that it was just too darn big to see it all.

For the ultimate Chinatown experience in North America, head to San Francisco . Go beyond the tacky tourist gates and storefronts, and get to know the real Chinatown. Wander the tiny alleys, marvel at the architecture, and play liar’s dice at an old opium den.

But don’t be in a hurry, because in Chinatown, you go nowhere, fast. There’s so many people on the street, that navigating through the dense crowds takes patience and time. Several weeks ago we got our first real dim sum fix there since leaving California in 2007. We happily committed dim sum suicide at Gold Mountain. Go there.

And when you’re stuck in the crowds, you’ll forget you were ever trying to get anywhere, because you’ll be amazed at all of the crazy, completely unidentifiable food stuffs, like these.

Didn’t mean to be such a Holiday Downer. So here’s a quick recipe for some Holiday Cheer…

Let’s get one thing straight first: When it comes to fine cooking and cocktails, I don’t like recipes. But I will turn to one for inspiration and run with it. For instance … Liz’s theme cocktail at her Christmas party this year was a pomegranate martini of sorts.

I forget the exact name on the printed recipe placed by the ingredients, but I was more than happy to oblige as mixologist for the night and improvised with the following:

• Lemon Smirnoff Vodka
• Pomegranate Juice
• Cointreau
• Fresh Lemon
• Soda Water (Optional)

I proceeded to make a pitcher of mix as requested so we could shake, chill, and serve upon request. I doubled the first batch, but it was way too dark. I mean really, three cups of juice!?

I like to taste the vodka in my martinis. I also left out the soda water, after all it was “optional” and no martini I know of calls for bubbles.

The end result was pretty tasty though … if I were to try and remember how I’d got there – for you recipe minded folks – I’d say start with a couple ounces of vodka, add a half ounce Cointreau, splash with pomegranate juice, rim your glass with the lemon, and save the soda for the morning. My only change might be to opt for Absolut Citron inshtead of Shmirnoff.

Living in a stick house with a well stocked bar, this is all fine and dandy. Believe me, ours was well stocked. But living on the road has it’s limitations when it comes to libations. With a cabinet full of bottles we once enjoyed the variety and choice of rum, vodka, tequila, gin, whiskey, brandy, or some combination thereof.

Living in an RV, we now drink the cocktail of the month. Without room to stock multiple bottles, we now focus on quality over quantity and buy one big bottle of good stuff at a time. It’s either Margarita time, or time for a Bombay Sapphire tonic. In a plastic glass of course. Or this time of year, perhaps brandy and cocoa in a travel mug.

So what am I to do with the large bottle of Bailey’s and two real glasses I got in this year’s White Elephant present exchange? Trying to polish off the sweet stuff by the time we hit the road will have us seeing more than pink elephants!