There is a magical place, nestled in the hills about 30 miles north of Santa Fe, New Mexico.
A holy, mystical place where you can step back in time.
A place where you can get a handful of miraculous healing dirt, and some of the best tasting roasted chile mixes you have ever tasted.
It is a place where you can commune with the wise one, and feel his words warm your heart. Yes, el Santuario de Chimayo is a sacred place which houses “el pocito” – the small pit of Holy Dirt which many believe has remarkable curative powers – and one legendary miraculous crucifix. But I am referring to el Peregrino Café and Gallery, just across the Plaza of El Potrero. And the wise one I speak of is one Carlos Medina – the Chimayo Chile Man.
This is the place where we first met Charles Medina, where we were first enchanted by his chile spell, and where I had my first tortilla burger. And it is a place where we had to return when passing through Santa Fe. We yearned for some more tasty chile powders, we wanted a tin cross we neglected to buy upon our first visit, and we needed another dose of Mr. Medina’s wisdom.
About the Cross
We may not be very religious, but the small crosses Carlos makes have special meaning to us. After all, Jerry was with us the first time we visited Chimayo. Carlos crafts these crosses – large and small – with strips cut from the original tin roof removed from el Santuario in 1922. We wanted one the first time we saw them, and always regretted not buying it. The small memento we now have hanging on our wall has an even more special meaning since we watched Carlos make and sign after asking how he does it.
About the Chile
The ritual of tasting Charles’ chile mixes alone is well worth the visit to el Chimayo. He’ll have you smell the robust powders and give you a pistachio, but ask you not to chew it. Filling the half shell with chile mix, he’ll explain if it is male or female, and ask if you like hot spice. With dash of salt, he’ll hand you the chile and tell you to chew it with the nut. Your palate will explode with flavor, and Carlos will flip you another nut chaser. Red Number One… Male Green… before you know it you will forget your favorite and start tasting all over again, getting a little history lesson and a few recipe ideas each time.
About the Chimayo Chile Man
Carlos and his sister Sharon Medina Candelario will greet you with big bright smiles as you enter their patio filled with age old artifacts, beautiful artwork, and tasty aromas. They are both talented tinsmiths. They will welcome you with a warm heart, and give you an intriguing history lesson behind any piece you inquire about.
The familia Medina settled in Chimayo sometime in the 1570′s. Yes, that’s fifteen seventy something! And evidence of their history can be seen throughout Chimayo, from street names to ancient graves in the Santo Niño Chapel plaza.
Charles himself seems to embody 500 plus years of wisdom. Our goal was to capture some of his philosophy on video, but he respectfully declined. We made him promise to let us document his chile ritual on camera next time. But this time, I was frantically scribbling notes after touring the Medina gallery with Carlos as our host for nearly two hours…
“To enjoy life, take your time. Those in a hurry can never fully enjoy life.”
— Carlos Medina
Words of Wisdom from Carlos Medina
“Some people put on the wrong attitude when told of bad news,” says Carlos Medina. “There is no reason in life to be sad, mad, or angry. These are three sisters – not daughters of God. Allow one to enter and she will invite the others and throw a party.”
So how to keep the sisters at bay, I asked. “Smile,” he simply said. “But to distribute the power of the smile one must laugh.”
“We must forgive,” Carlos added. “Throughout life, we walk toward the light and leave the shadows behind. We cannot dwell in the darkness.” As an example, he shares, “When you go to bed, ask God to help you forgive those who may have upset you. Then, ask for forgiveness yourself.” He adds, with a grin, “Because we are not Saints – we are all a little mischievous.”
The best way to enjoy life, according to Carlos? Take your time. “Those in a hurry can never fully enjoy life.”
About religion, he says, “You do not need to believe in God. You need to believe God.” Carlos Adds, “God speaks to all of us from within – we must listen to God within ourselves.”
About prayer, Carlos suggests, “At the end of each day, say out loud [with a heavy drawn out breath] ‘Wealth‘… it is good to provide for those you love, or to be able to help others do the same.” He gives the example of paying someone to build a fence, then adds, “then say to yourself out loud, [again with a heavy drawn out breath] ‘Health‘… for you cannot have one without the other.” He then asks, “What good is it to be rich, and too sick to enjoy it?”
Sharon shared with us her own words of wisdom for being “successful” in life. “Society tells us we must go to school, get a good job, and make lots of money to succeed,” she said while etching a tin cross under the new Mexico sun. But she took Charles’ advice to “Follow your heart.” With a Master’s degree, after working in social work for four years, Sharon followed her heart and now she couldn’t be happier with her lifestyle creating jewelry and artwork outside in the plaza at Chimayo.
Our new annual pilgrimage
Just as tens of thousands of the Faithful flock to el Santuario de Chimayo every Easter – many after walking miles with large crosses on their backs – we too might just be making an annual pilgrimage to Medina’s. But it will have to be during the week. Upon leaving, Carlos shared with us his final words of wisdom – He doesn’t work Saturdays.
Allen’s Fried Chicken and Luckenbach are the only other two places we have specifically returned to after traveling the whole country, aside from visiting family. Now we just need to get back to Pawlet, Vermont for that Roy Egg rooster head we should have bought when we had the chance.
They came. They got to know each other. They made cocktails.
I’m speaking of the Nü Rvers of course, at their recent get-together in Gonzales, Texas for Days of the Nü II. One highlight from this year’s gathering was the first Bartender Wars.
Ben and Karen took first place with their Blazing Bloody Mary, and we brought home the Best Presentation award thanks to our Nü Hawaiian, complete with theme music and little umbrellas. (Thanks to Sam and Tracy!)
But as we promised the fine folks from Republic Tequila – who we met at the first Luckenbach Hat Festival, which they sponsored – we brought along a bottle of their new Reposado for the Nü Crew to try out.
Enjoy this video of us preparing a batch of Republic Texas Tea and getting feedback from a few true tequila afficionados …
After making this batch of Republic Texas Tea, and passing around a few straight shots, the votes were unanimous – well, almost. Among actual tequila drinkers the consensus was; Republic Tequila rocks! It is aromatic and mellow, ultra-smooth and easy drinking – fine to sip, and most excellent mixed.
Here’s the topper, Republic Tequila is made with 100% certified organic blue agave at La Quemada, one of Mexico’s only organic distilleries. Even better, Republic uses recycled Jack Daniels charred American Oak barrels for aging their tequilas – 8 months for the Reposado and 20 months for the Añejo. And best yet, the people behind the brand are good-hearted, fun-loving folks who share a common goal; to create and market the world’s perfect tequila.
They might have done just that. Everyone has that one liquor they just can’t drink anymore. And while I make a mean margarita, I haven’t been able to sip straight tequila for years due to circumstances I care to not divulge, or can’t remember. But once I tasted the Republic Reposado, my aversion might just be cured.
Republic Tequila – “Born in Mexico, Raised in Texas” – was launched last August and is already in four states. Look for Republic throughout Texas at Spec’s Fine Spirits. I’m just glad it’s available in Colorado now! By the time of this writing you should also be able to buy it in Oklahoma, New Mexico and Arizona.
If your favorite liquor store doesn’t carry Republic Tequila, tell them they should! If they do, you can’t miss it on the shelf. It’s the one in the Texas shaped bottle. But this is much more than just a gimmick. It symbolizes the spirit of this spirit, its big hand-crafted taste, and the freedom you’ll feel after sipping some … responsibly of course.
Some stores may also have Republic in the “tall” bottle. But what fun is that considering this tale Jack told about how the Republic bottle came to be… “We started drinking in Amarillo,” he said pointing to the neck of the bottle. “By lunch we had reached Abilene,” he adds and points to middle of bottle. “It was so good, we kept on drinking until we reached South Padre Island!” Or something like that, but anyone who knows their Texas geography understands that means it’s time for a new bottle.
There is simply not enough time to enjoy all the barbecue goodness Texas has to offer. From the big cities and fast highways to every sleepy little town and winding FM (Farm to Market) road, the savory smell of smoking meat can be enjoyed as it radiates from rickety shacks and strip malls alike. It even overpowers the ever present aroma of Texas oil country.
Last year in Luckenbach, René promised me a dinner at Hondo’s in Fredericksburg. This year, she kept her promise. Hondo’s is an informal, self-serve restaurant with a menu sure to please any discriminating taste, and yes, they have BBQ. Place your order and have a seat on the shaded patio sipping a cool tea until your pager blinks. We might have sat inside and stuck around for the live Music if we weren’t taking a break from the Hat Festival.
After seriously considering the brisket, I opted for the special – “a generous portion of whatever David’s been smokin’ all day” – and was informed that the 2 lbs of ribs came just like that, just ribs. So I added some fried onion strings, and was reassured by a sincere “Mmmmmm…” from the woman taking our order.
I traded a bunch of crispy strings for for some of René’s succulent grilled Mahi Mahi salad. There was no way I could eat so many ribs without some fresh greens. And fresh they were.
I would have certainly hurt myself even trying to finish the big ol’ basket of ribs, so leftovers were in order. With some grits and greens topped with remaining onion strings, I got tasty BBQ two days in a row – bonus!
After passing far too many BBQ joints – with names like Fat Boy’s and Bubba’s BBQ – over the next couple weeks, we found another gastronomical treasure at Pop’s Pit in Brookshire, Texas. Pop’s is old school BBQ at it’s best, but these days you’ll even find traditional places like Pop’s Pit on Facebook!
Pop’s Pit is home of the Heart Attack sandwich, chopped beef and sausage. But after ordering the ribs, I spotted the brisket sitting on the counter. It comes sliced or chopped, on a bun or in a bowl, and it looked – and smelled – too good to pass up. I opted for the sliced beef sandwich, and got a funny look when clarifying our side order of beans and slaw. After all, René had just ordered the Suicide Spud wit the same sides, to split. “She’s gonna eat all that?” the woman asked. “No” I said with a grin, we were splitting the side dishes. “I’s gonna say…” was her only reply as she turned to shout our order to whom I presume had to be Pop.
The woman’s reaction was clearly understandable once our food was ready in the walk up window. Another bonus for me: the sausage and chopped beef that comes with the monster baked potato smothered in melted butter and sour cream. The beef was tender and tasty, but leftovers were once again in order. The smoked sausage scrambled up with eggs the next day made for another one of those memorable all day breakfasts.
The final bonus at Pop’s was that we got dinner and a show! Shortly after sitting down at the shaded picnic table with our mess ‘o food, police cars started zipping by with sirens blaring. Then they went the other way, and back again. A parade was about to begin. As I sat licking my fingers, feeling satisfied, and finishing René’s iced tea, she ran off with the camera to capture the colorful Cinco De Mayo celebration passing by.
As paramedics brought up the rear, I felt safe knowing help was nearby if I decided to eat just one more piece of sausage. Allen’s, here we come!
Once the weather finally warmed up here in the Southwest, time seemed to speed up as quickly as the fat grew around our waistlines from all of the good eats and tasty Shiner beer we’re consuming (we are in Texas after all!).
Our road trip adventures are happening faster than we can write about them, and as much as we don’t want this blog to be a “this-is-what-I-did-today” journal, for the sake of catching up, here’s a quick recap of a few of our favorite stops:
The Pepper Pot, Hatch New Mexico
Hatch is nothing more than a wide spot in the road, but it’s got a worldwide rep for being the green chile capital of the world. When we heard that Anthony Bourdain once said that he had the best red enchiladas of his life at the Pepper Pot, we had to find out if it was true.
Bourdain was right. The Pepper Pot’s menu was the finest of traditional New Mexican cuisine, and I’ve never had a better green or red sauce than theirs (with the exception of my Mom’s, of course!). The aromas and flavors were a smooth, smoky blend of New Mexico’s finest chilies, the staff was friendly, and this massive lunch was just $25 for the two of us.
The Texas Hill Country
There’s an unexpected beauty to the Hill Country region that’s drawn our rig back since 2008. This year the countryside was especially green and lush, with incredible spring flowers and overflowing creeks and rivers.
We love Texas so much that next time a pile of money falls from the sky, we’ll buy a small piece of Hill Country land to winter on. The food can’t be beat, the people are friendly and open, and most aren’t afraid to express their opinions. Texans tell it like they see it, which even when I don’t agree with it, I can appreciate.
Come hell or high water, nothing was going to keep the good people of Luckenbach from holding the first annual Texas Hat Festival.
If anyone knows about hats, it’s Texans. The Luckenbach Hat Festival was all things hats, with a ton of incredible Texas bands, vendors, games and contests.
Like the ugly hat contest I entered. I didn’t win, but at least I can say I got my fifteen seconds of fame, on stage at Luckenbach. I also got a pretty nifty cowgirl hat for just twenty bucks, then ended up wining one later from an event sponsor!
Staying in the Hill Country hasn’t been cheap. Texas doesn’t believe in free public lands or have a whole lot of national forests, so we haven’t boondocked since New Mexico. While it’s been a luxury hooking up to the grid for the last few weeks, RV parks are spendy, costing no less than $27 a night. While there’s deals to be found, like the “By the River” campground we almost died at in Kerrville, they are few and far between.
Despite all of our misadventures here and the high cost of RV parks, it’s the Texas music, the diverse scenery, the food and the people that make it all worthwhile.
Remember that freaky cherimoya fruit I told you about? We finally got the courage to try this local delicacy.
The cherimoya is as mean and nasty looking as a gila monster, but slice it open and it’s soft flesh tastes somewhere between a pear and a papaya.
The sweetness of this fruit would probably go good with a gewurztraminer wine, but don’t get liquored up or you could break a tooth on the rock hard seeds.
With all of the crazy imported fruit from overseas, it amazes me that something this good that’s grown in our own backyard isn’t made more available.
Why would anyone want mediocre kiwi from New Zealand when we could have a cherimoya, or a fuerte avocado grown right here in the states?
Before we left Borrego Springs we played tourist and checked out these amazing roadside sculptures by artist Ricardo Breceda.
The pics don’t do them justice, and it’s hard to get an idea of the scale of these enormous creatures. They’re set up along the outskirts of Anza Borrego State Park, and you can just meander your way down the roads to check them out.
The detail of the scrap metal creatures is amazing. How does this guy find the time?
If you look way in the background of one of these pics, you can see how small our big truck looks next to them.
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.
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.
Entries (RSS)
