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[Desert Droppings] Cooked! Betty Crocker Gets Roasted

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It all began with a delivery of organic vegetables from ABQ’s Skarsgard Farms.
http://skarsgardfarms.com A kind, healthy gift from family members.  Thanks!Desert--061214--squash
In the delivery cooler were several bright yellow disc shaped vegetables with scalloped edges like mini UFOs. From some far corner of my brain came the name “patty pan squash.” Was there such a thing and how do you cook it?  I could have googled it, but instead opted for a more homespun approach.  I took down my venerable, classic cookbook, Betty Crocker’s New Picture Cook Book.  “New”- hah!  This tattered tome was copyrighted in 1961, making Betty Crocker (whose name still appears on cake mixes and instant mashed potatoes) really, really old!
That is, if the bright eyed, fortyish lady with neatly coiffed, brown with a touch of gray hair, and a modestly confident smile, was really, really real.  She’s not.  Never was. But even though Betty C. was a figment of General Mills’ marketing Desert--061214--bettyimagination, for homemakers in the 50’s and 60’s, she was the quintessentially perfect embodiment of womanhood.  Perfect wife.  Perfect Mother. And most important of all, perfect hostess.  From Baked Alaska to Yorkshire Pudding, Betty was a garnishing genius, mistress of meatloaf, queen of the quesadilla. Ha! Gotcha! There isn’t a quesadilla to be found in the Betty Crocker Cook Book. No arugula or cilantro either.  But, on the other hand, if you want to wow your dinner guests with “Cauliflower Porcupine” (toasted almonds stuck in a cheese sauce covered boiled cauliflower) or offend them with “Squaw Corn,”
(A skillet concoction of bacon,eggs, and canned creamed corn that would disgust a Native American quicker than the “R” word that football team uses), check pages 422 and 423.

Before Martha Stewart, before Rachel Ray, before Betty Friedan, Betty Crocker reigned –Desert--061214--cookbook
a dinner roll model, a souper star. In my search for a patty pan squash recipe, I began to look closely and critically at the cook book’s familiar, sauce spattered pages. And there it unfolded, like raw jelly-roll dough on a greased cookie sheet, a glimpse of the American woman over 50 years ago. I grinned, at first, at the retro illustrations and the preachy Home Ec/ Ladies Auxiliary tone of the text.
“Bake cake or cookies while washing dishes or cooking dinner.”

“Have a weekly plan for scheduling such tasks as washing, ironing, baking, shopping, cleaning the refrigerator, or washing floors.”Desert--061214--jobs

And this gem-
“Have a hobby. Garden, paint pictures, look through magazines for home planning ideas, read a good book, or attend club meetings. Be interested-and you’ll always be interesting!”

The grin gave way to a teeth grinding grimace.

And the pictures- They’re far  more  disquieting than quaint. There are dozens of Betty Crocker Cook Book illustrations of women Desert--061214--manwifestirring, saucing, and sautéing their little hearts out, while attired in cocktail dresses, pearls and little frilly aprons.  And in the background, the man of the house with hands clasped behind his back to avoid any suggestion that he might be Heaven Forbid! helping with kitchen chores, beams his avuncular approval at his little woman who (fond pat on the head) really knows the way to a man’s heart. (She’d better! To the moon, Alice!)

And then I came to page 14!  Page 14 is titled, “Kitchen Know -How.” Above a list of common recipe ingredients which may be substituted for others in  an “emergency”, is a drawing of a manicured housewife, all dolled up in a matching necklace and earring set, watching nervously from  the window. A group of executive types in hats and topcoats  are approaching the house.
It’s the hackneyed plot of  many a black and white, small screen sit-com:

Hubby is bringing the boss and a business buddy home…for dinner…at the last minute.Desert--061214--knowhow1

ACTION!
Wife: Heavens to Betsey! What will I do? I’m all out of buttermilk for the biscuits and cornstarch for the gravy. And the dog just knocked over my floral centerpiece!

Husband: (Chest puffed out boastfully)  Yes indeed, Mr. Bigster, my little bride can whip up a banquet in the blink of an eye. You’ll have a feast to remember. (Deep manly chuckle)

FX : The film speeds up to show the frantic housewife measuring, sifting, kneading, chopping, frying, whipping, straining, mixing, ladling, sprinkling, and wiping.
Just as she collapses onto a kitchen stool, husband and guests enter.

Husband: Honey, I’m home!
(Cue full-out laugh track.)

And that’s not all.
On the same page, another illustration.  This time, the happy housewife, again in cocktail dress, pearls, and frilly apron, is checking Desert--061214--knowhow2a recipe and punching numbers into the 60’s version of an ipad – a room sized data processing machine!
The title says it all, “If you are a Good Mathematician you may safely…Reduce Recipes and Increase Recipes.”
Did you catch the “If?”
My goodness! A dressed-up domestic dolly just couldn’t do hard math like multiplying and dividing in her pretty little head, now could she?  I mean, really! Math is man’s work.
And the idea of a woman with the brains to operate data processing equipment- why that’s like gals knowing how to drive…Did ya hear the one about the woman driver, the pig, and the fire hydrant?  Guffaw!
Grimace! Grimace!

Hey, 1961! You can have your cook book and your ladies last – breakfastlunchanddinner first  lifestyle back.Desert--061214--forbes
Give me high-fiber, low fat, gluten free, whole grain, microwaveable , lactose intolerant living any day!  Hooray for now when with the exception of Deep South Congressman and some other Neanderthal types, the idea that a woman has a mind, not just a mop and a menu has ceased to shock.
We may not all be Hillary, Mary,Michelle, Sheryl, Indra, or Oprah (to name a few of Forbes magazine’s “100 Most Powerful Women”), but in 53 years, many of us have broken through the scrubbed and polished homebetterbewhereyourheartis ceiling.

Oh, and about the patty pan squash…I may not be a “Good Mathematician,” but I “safely” found a recipe on the internet.

Betty, dearest, you’ve got a lot of ‘splainin’ to do!

[Desert Droppings] Welcoming Bubba and Bacon While Waiting for Tesla

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Did it come yet?
Not yet.Desert- 052814- godot
It’s almost June.
Groundbreaking in June.
Will the ground break here?
We’re waiting to hear.
Is that a messenger running to tell us?
No, that’s a candidate running for NM governor.
Will he tell us?
He’ll tell us something.
What will he tell us?
Whatever we want to hear.
Then, we’ll just wait a little longer.
Until Tesla texts?
Until then.
We ‘ll wait.

This Godot-esque improv was brought to you by wishful thinking. Every morning I rush to open The Albuquerque Journal hoping to find page one proclaiming:

“Tesla Talks! NM Chosen To  Charge-Up New Battery Factory.”

But, so far, not even a hint of the hoped-for headline.
Meanwhile, while waiting for Tesla, ABQ (aka Duke City) is about to say a big “Hola!” to Bubba- Bubba’s 33, to be exact.  Bubba’s 33 Desert- 052814- bubbais a “budding restaurant chain.” (If by ‘budding’ you mean one restaurant with a second in process.). This nascent “chain” (pardon the blatant “Shark Tank” inspired entrepreneurial hyperbole ) chose ABQ because “Albuquerque supports restaurants very well.” Hmmmm I guess that’s a compliment.  And what culinary delights will Bubba’s 33 add to ABQ’s cuisine scene?  Let’s see.  “Bubba’s 33…sports fans…more TVs than tables…blah blah…pizzas, hamburgers, and beer…blah blah.”  And we should all rush out to “support” yet another pizza/burger/ sports bar because…?  Oh, oh, here it is, the Bubba’s 33 offering that will make ABQ foodies flock to feast – the Bubba’s 33 “signature hamburger that features 33 percent ground bacon.” Way to go, Bubba’s!  The 4 fave food groups in one heart-stopping dish- salty, fatty, crispy, and greasy.  Bubba, my friend, you’ll sell hundreds, thousands maybe!
ABQ is a town where a sign outside Lotta Burger, a local “chain” urges us to “Keep Calm and Eat a Bacon Burrito,” while way at theDesert- 052814- keepcalm upper end of the dining spectrum, a gastropub (whatever the heck that is) called The Stumbling Steer, receives “Albuquerque, The Magazine’s ” 2014 “Hot Plate” award for its fried pork bits dusted with dried apple sugar and dipped into a whipped Greek yogurt sauce by which the magazine gushes, “Bacon has been elevated to an art form…”

A Pig-asso, perhaps?

Continuing our stroll through the pork, we encounter a science selection from The Washington Post emailed by a friend  whom I’ve designated a roving reporter for DD because he’s a master of ( Alliteration  Alert!) Ferreting out and Forwarding Fascinating Flora and Fauna Factoids.
This particular article described how the US deals with invasive animal species.
The term, “invasive species” doesn’t refer to your boorish cousins from Oshkosh who got drunk at your Memorial Day BBQ and barfed in your neat-freak neighbor’s pool!
No, invasive species are the weeds of the animal kingdom. With few natural enemies, they tend to crowd out or devour more Desert- 052814- hogsdesirable native species. According to the article’s author, Ramit Plushnick-Masti (That’s his? her? real name!), one way to reduce a burgeoning population of invasive animal species is to get the over abundant interlopers out of the bush and onto the buffet table.  Case in point- feral hogs who are apparently a threat to agriculture in Texas. (And since NM borders on Texas, we definitely don’t want those wild piggies wandering over here and sticking their snouts into our green chile patches.) The article points out that these lusty hogs reproduce so rapidly that catching and cooking them hardly diminishes their numbers.  To which I say,”Hogwash! You’re just not trying!”  Stop thinking ham hocks and pork chops and declare open season on “wild-caught bacon!”  What better treat to put in your “as seen on TV” microwave bacon racks  and bacon bowl molds?
Save the elk! Conserve the cougar!  Point trigger happy hunters toward the frantically fornicating feral hogs and let them bring home the wild – caught bacon. BLTs will never be the same!

I’d nearly completed this post, when I discovered  a serendipitous find in the clearance bin at Staples- a 2014 “I (heart) Bacon” wall calendar.  I took it wee wee wee wee wee allllll the way home, so we could pig out on bacon trivia and recipes until the sows comeDesert- 052814- bacon home.
Here are a few choice morsels to savor while the Bacon-Chicken Crescent Ring bakes ( and, yes, it’s made with refrigerated crescent rolls and canned chicken ).
“Bacon is addictive. It contains 6 types of umami. Umami produces an addictive neurochemical response.”
U mean u mommy served u bacon and eggs, but wouldn’t let u smoke pot!
And
“A pig’s tail can be kinky, straight, or curly.”
Just like the Three Stooges.
And
“Almost half of the fat in bacon is the ‘good fat’ that can actually help lower bad cholesterol.”
Yeah , believe that one when pigs fly!

Well, blog buddies, that’s the way the bacon crumbles.Desert- 052814- porky
In the immortal words of cartoon icon, Porky Pig, ” Badeep, Badeep, Badeep, That’s all folks!”

[Desert Droppings] Salas, Shelfies, and Shlumpies

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Elitist, ostentatious, self-absorbed- a commentary on Gens X,Y, and Z; the Globals; the Millennials; the Digital Natives, or whatever the trendy term is for those under 50? No! I’m simply sharing my impression of the latest exhibit at the ABQ Museum of History and Art (known minimalisty as “aM”.) The exhibit, “Behind Closed Doors: Art in the Spanish American Home 1492-1898,”Cal Seething-051514-museum showcases paintings, furnishings, and household items owned by upper-class families who colonized the Spanish Empire in North and South America.
From huge, intricately carved frames, lavishly costumed Creoles (as American born Spaniards were called) cast their solemn, imperial gazes on us lowly art lovers.  Glamorously gowned ladies, their shawls fastened by silver pins the size of salad plates, sport black velvet beauty spots glued to their chins.  The gents in ornate military garb flaunt their long swords and pose Napoleon-style with a hand shoved chest-high into their jackets (a posture which today is more suggestive of skin rash, than status and style.) All are depicted in exquisite detail to show their wealth and social connections, their unspoken message being:
“Look at me! I’m gorgeous. I’m special. I’m rich and important and fashionable  and a member of the king’s club.  Oh, don’t you envy me?  Please…envy me!”
To be sure that these pompous Creole selfies were seen by as many of the potentially envious as possible, they were placed in the “Sala” – the grand reception room where visitors were received with pageantry and splendor.  According to the museum’s signage, “Salas were the home’s most sumptuously decorated spaces. There, affluence was flaunted…” No kidding!
No Ikea here! Salas were furnished with “solid silver furniture, imported silk wall hangings, and luxurious damask curtains.”

And then…I got back home and walked into  my sala/living room/office/great room- or more accurately, not- so-great-room.  How come all those pretentious Creole tchotchkes looked so precious and arty and desirably decorative  and my stuff looks like clutter?
How come visitors don’t gasp in awe and admiration at my floor to ceiling furnishings, but instead say things like:
“Wow! You’ve got a lot of um…interesting things here.  It’s a little hard to …er…absorb it all. Is that a metal rat?”
Or, as the cable guy, a native New Mexican remarked with a grimace, on spotting the tin lamp, pueblo pottery, kiva ladder, Navajo rug, and other Spanish Market and Indian Market finds:
“You’re not from around here, are you?”
Eeeeeek!  Was our East Coast enthusiasm  for New Mexico tourist art that obvious?!

To add to my dismay, and with my sala score sinking ever lower, I was confronted by the lead article in The Wall Street Journal’s Off-Duty lifestyle section entitled “Me, My Shelfies, and I.” It seems the shelfie is a new social media phenomenon among the trendy and upwardly egotistic. Shelfies are, of course, the knick-knack counterpart to selfies.  To make a shelfie, you design an Desert-051514-shelfie“artful” arrangement of prized possessions that grace the tabletops, mantels, and, yes, shelves in your mortgaged-to-the-hilt McMansion. Next, with your mobile device, you take a picture of said artful arrangement and send it to your multitude of friends and followers on Instagram. Your unspoken message being-

“Look at me!  I’m gorgeous. I’m special. I’m rich and important and fashionable…Please envy me!”
The article included a few choice shelfies: a bowl, a shell, and some ceramic thing that looked like a urinal. Ho hum. A pile of notebooks, a dish of office drawer dumpings, and a cup of pencils. Nu?  Hairy twigs in a misshapen pot. Really?  A pine cone, a plate of leftovers…
Hey! Shabby sala and all, I could get in on this!  If I just take a month’s worth of newspapers and magazines off the desk and clear away a mountain of winter clothes and blankets layered on the dresser like an archaeological dig and get rid of…Wait!  Who am I Desert-05151-shlumpie1fooling?  Why dust off the dresser and dig out the Dresden?  Show it like it is!  Forget the shelfies. Snap and share Shlumpies !  That’s right! Shlumpies! A photo of your possessions in all their earthy disarray on whatever surface they happen to be cluttering.  It’s Creole conspicuous consumption for the rest of us! I feel a trend coming on!
Shlumpies require no artful arrangement of rare and costly collectables or precisely posed platters and pincushions. To take a shlumpie, just point and shoot the stuff you already have. Receipts, mail, market flyers, and open cracker boxes scattered on the kitchen table – click!
A dozen wooden prairie dogs and two beaded lizards crowded on the shelf – send!  The miscellaneous junk you stashed in the hall closet when your mother- in- law dropped by – share!

And if The Wall Street Journal wants to do a a follow-up article, they’re welcome to step into my sala and snag a shlumpie. There’s Desert-051514-shlumpie2a million of them  just waiting for their digital close- ups.
Let’s get creative with clutter. Overflowing laundry baskets are the new opulence. Instagram, here we come!
Neat and narcissistic is so 15th century.

[Desert Droppings] Salud! An Abundance of Penguins- A Shortage of Limes

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I have a friend who is extremely knowledgeable about all things furry, feathery, finny, and slithery. He alerted me to the fact that April 25 was World Penguin Day.  Yippee! Here’s a holiday we can all add to our 2015 calendar.Desert- 043014- cookie
World Penguin Day requires no Divine Intervention. No one gets killed, conquered, or oppressed. No one gets rescued or redeemed.  There are no lengthy rituals to perform or lavish meals to cook.  World Penguin Day is just an enjoy-the-day-however DIY celebration.  Of course you could dress in black, white, and yellow and eat foods like deviled eggs with caviar or those big deli cookies that are frosted in chocolate and vanilla; or have gala gatherings with tuxedos required; and send “Happy WPD” cards; and decorate your lawns and rooftops with inflatable penguins; and if you’re really good, the Great Emperor Penguin will bring you gifts and bless you and…Gaaaaaaaah!  NO!  Don’t get all  Holy/Hallmark/HGTV about it!  Just relax, improvise, and enjoy World Penguin Day without greed and guilt gumming it all up!
Desert- 042814- penguins
Why celebrate penguins? Well, why not?  Penguins don’t devour our crops or spread the plague or gnaw on our garbage or crawl in our cupboards.  We don’t need them for food or feathers. Penguins, in turn, don’t need us for preservation and protection. Left alone, they socialize, migrate, and reproduce in a barren, frozen environment where we can barely survive.
Plus, they’re sooooooo cute!  What’s not to celebrate?
And – a big plus for this year, World Penguin Day festivities didn’t involve a single lime!
Penguins? Limes?  Did we miss something here?
Nope.  Just follow along, folks….
Both The Albuquerque Journal and The Wall Street Journal ( no relation whatsoever except for the word “Journal” which must Desert- 043014- limeabqmean “stuff printed on paper that can also be used to line critter cages”) – both these newspapers featured articles bemoaning the current lime shortage caused by Mexican weather problems and the resulting sky high price of the little green fruit.
Now, limes aren’t a major food group on my nutrition pyramid or pie chart or plate section or whatever graphic the government is using these days to remind us to eat healthy foods.
Remember, “An apple (or lime) a day keeps the insurance companies from bankrupting Medicare by getting reimbursed for pricey tests and treatments for those who’ve  over-indulged for years in the pizza-pretzel-Pepsi-pork rind food group.”

Anyway, for bars and Mexican  restaurants, the “great lime crisis of 2014” is catastrophic. Margaritas and many Mexican foods Desert--043014--wsjlimehave fresh lime juice as a key ingredient. In an effort to reduce fresh lime consumption, bars are even considering the use of pre-squeezed lime juice.  Apparently this is a horrific last resort akin to serving  vegan quinoa gefilte fish at the Passover Seder or “topiggy” soyham at Easter dinner.
Desperate bistros are slicing lime wedges  paper thin and making customers specifically request them with their meals ( and show a picture ID and sign a pledge to squeeze out every drop of juice  and eat the pulp) JK!  JK! (So far)
And to make matters considerably worse, Cinco de Mayo is fast approaching.
Unlike World Penguin Day, Cinco de Mayo (the Fifth  of May)  is a typical “We conquered – Let’s drink’n dine” holiday. This  Mexican festival, widely celebrated in the southwestern US, commemorates “the Mexican army’s victory over French forces at the Battle of Puebla on May 5, 1862.” Wouldn’t you know! Battle, victory, army. Whee! It’s a holiday!
So here we are, 152 years later, glasses raised, facing the unthinkable prospect of a lime-challenged Cinco de Mayo. Viva! Salud! This Bud’s for you. Just doesn’t work!

And lest we overlook a chance to plug ABQ’s vaunted multicultural qualities, may I point out that our favorite Vietnamese restaurant was also caught up in Lime-Gate. (What did those lime-growing Mexicans know and when did they know it?)
As the waitress handed me my take-out Mi hoach hu tieu chay (vegetable noodle soup), she apologized repeatedly that there were no “lems” included. There was Thai basil, cilantro, and hot sauce, but no “lems.”
“Lemons?” I asked.
“No, no! The green ones, lems.”Desert- 043014- nolime
“Oh you mean limes.”
“Yes, yes. No lems today.”
“Ok, no problem, ” I replied blithely, not yet having read The ABQ Journal or The WSJ.
At the market, I discovered that limes which once sold for $.33 were now $.99! I bought a lemon instead.  Sometimes, we (sigh!) just have to make do.

So, save the lime! Raise your mudslides with whipped cream, your vanilla sundaes with dark chocolate sauce, your double stuffed Oreos.  Here’s to our frigid, flightless, friends. Happy WPD!
Mark your calendar apps. World Penguin Day is looking better all the time!

[Desert Droppings] Sonny Wants A Naughty Bit! – Maturity Gets Parrot-eed

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We had a great Passover visit with a guest I’ll call, in the most complimentary way, Childish Adult Visitor  (CAV).  He arrived from LA toting a stuffed parrot and a hotdog-on-a-stick puppet, both part of his “work.” Right!  “Childish.”  No, I don’t mean the dreamy, poetic sounding “childlike.”

“Childlike” implies intentional innocence, wide-eyed endearing enthusiasm, and awwwww- inspiring cute images that sell hokey Desert--041614--hotdogdiamond heart bracelets, organic dog food, and Cialis. (His n’ Hers bathtubs- awwwwwwkward.)

“Childish” is impulsive, uninhibited, fiendishly silly, and really entertaining.

Childish Adult Visitor (CAV): I wanna take my stuffed parrot and my hotdog-on-a-stick puppet to Old Town- now, Now, NOW! I’m 41 and you’re not the boss of me, Nyah!

H-O-A-S puppet, no way!  Oy! You could poke out an eye with that stick! But the parrot looks fairly harmless, so OK. The parrot’s name, BTW, is Sonny.  I had thought “Sunny” as in cozy, warm, and cheery. But, no, it’s “Sonny” as in Corleone (“Don’t youse stop at any tollbooths!”  As if NM even had tollbooths! Who wants to pay $$$$ to go 75mph to get to Tucumcari or Farmington faster?!)

So we took Sonny, the stuffed parrot and his CAV buddy  to Old Town and beyond.
First stop on the tour – The Candy Lady (thecandylady.com) in her bright, new location just around the corner from her old spot.  An Old Town Festival event was just winding down and The Candy Lady’s glassed-in front porch was crowded with folks snapping up Breaking Bad t-shirts, mugs, caps, and cards and posing for postable pics in those black Heisenberg hats.  But CAV and his sidekick Sonny were on a mission! Would it still be there? YES!  The naughty candy  “For Adults Only” room was well-stocked. Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge.

Desert--041614--parrotcandy
CAV: What do you think, Sonny? Should we get two extra large chocolate penises and a pair of boobs? How about those tie-dye hued penis pops? Smile, Sunny. This pic with the hee hee boobs and penises is for posting on Facebook.
With Sonny on his shoulder, and a last, loud, explicit tally of his sexy sweets selection, CAV moved on to choose an assortment of fudge from the trays of famous flavors- orange cream, maple pecan,chocolate red chile, and more. Easter treats, truffles, licorice, and many other delectable specialities were also on display.  All in all – a successful site shift. Mazal Tov!
Would the ebullient Candy Lady, herself, Debbie Ball, pose for pictures with Sonny the Parrot?
“Sure!”  Something for CAV to tawwwwwk about back home.

Desert--041614--Candy

Well stocked with munchies, we followed CAV and Sonny around the block to the ABQ Museum of History and Art. CAV discovered a set of life-sized metal sculptures depicting the Spanish arrival in what would eventually become Albuquerque, NM.  Within nano seconds, CAV had Sonny cavorting among the statues- nestled in a Madre’s arms, squawking “This Land is My Land” on the shoulder of the  Conquistador  leader, getting horny with a grinning sheep.

Desert--041614-statues

A lot of laughs for Sonny and CAV, but permit me to bawwwwwk at the rather one-sided  sculptural message here.  Just so you know- when the Spaniards arrived in NM, there were already many thriving Native American pueblo cultures here.  And the Spaniards didn’t always appreciate the pueblo presence.  BUT- here’s the good news!  Many of those pueblos now have huge casino-resorts. At any given moment, hundreds of players, including descendants of those sculptured Spanish pioneers,  are dropping big bucks into the slots and other gaming attractions  on pueblo lands. Olé!  Awwwwwwk!Desert--041414--icecream

A few miles east of Old Town, to wind up our tour with Sonny and CAV, what could be more childishly enticing than ice cream in a unique toy, game, and 60’s memorabilia filled shop called “I SCREAM Ice Cream.”  There, Sonny joined Pudge Penguin for photo ops on Lady Liberty.
“Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled bird toys yearning…”
If I wasn’t taking photos with my iPad, I’d swear it was the psychedelic 60’s and we’d just had a few magic mushrooms!
Would the genial I SCREAM guy, himself, Bill, pose for pictures with Sonny the Parrot?”
“Sure!” No grown-up hesitation here. Just amused, matter-of-fact, like we were asking for another scoop of blueberry buckle.

Desert--041614--billicecrea

In the adult world , the pings have stopped; the Ukraine’s crumbling; the NASDAQ’s down; The ABQ Journal is all crime and crumminess; and TWD is over for the season.
ABQ child’s play with Sonny and CAV was a really welcome diversion. Thanks, guys! Come back soon.
Maturity is soooo overrated.  Awwwwwk!

Desert- 041614-hotdog

[Desert Droppings] Basketball, Bad News, and Breakfast: ABQ Marches On

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To start off, we’re taking a cue from mega- pharmacy, Walgreens,  purveyor of prescriptions,plus many of life’s pre-packaged necessities from Maalox to mac and cheese mix. Walgreens markets itself as being cozily located “at the corner of happy and healthy.” ABQ has, these past few weeks, been firmly parked at the corner of hapless and hellish.

First March Madness turned to March Sadness as the ABQ-based Lobos men’s basketball team from the University of NM lost to Desert--040214--journallobolower seeded Stanford in Round1 of the NCAA Tournament, a repeat of last year’s tortuous tangle with the Ivy League when the Lobos lost to underdog Harvard. Now, I don’t know a bracket from a brisket, but I follow the Lobos’ seasonal rollercoaster because they’re ABQ’s own and because unlike  neighboring UT, AZ, CO, and TX, NM has no NBA team (or NFL, or NHL, or MLB team). So the Lobos are all-around sports surrogates and they really, really, really try.  Local businesses add “Go Lobos!” to their outdoor billboards and the ABQ Journal relishes reporting their victories and (sigh) the other stuff.
According to the Journal, this year was going to be different. The Lobos had “learned their lessons,” and had a “better mindset,” and had “size and girth.”  This year, the Lobos would take care of “unfinished business”. This year, the Sweet 16. This year…turned out to be just like last year. Lobos 53. Stanford 58. It was Harvard déjà vu.  First year Lobos coach, Craig Neal summed it up- “not a lot of fun, and we’ve been here before.”

Ok. So big basketball bummer there.
And in other news, APD shot yet another questionably dangerous, deranged, disoriented Albuquerquean.  APS proudly announced that 73% of its students graduate from high school. (And that leaves the other 14 uh…35 uh…27% with what- a list of local bus stops near McDonald’s?)
And how about this cheery insert which flew out of the Sunday Journal? The dour faces and profiles of 30 “Most Wanted Property Crime Offenders,” a “paid legal advertisement” from the city of ABQ.  Gee, thanks for the heads-up. I’ll tape it to the fridge. Hmmmm  They don’t look any different from my neighborhood Walgreens customers.

Whew! As Julius Caesar said, ” March is a tough month!”
Even after watching hours and hours of Shoot! Stomp! Stab! In The Walking Dead‘s  Season 4 weekend marathon, the zombie apocalypse still seemed like an exercise in community building compared to the recent grim goings on in ABQ.

Then, Halellujah! I found hope at the supermarket checkout- hefty, glossy wrapped-in-cellophane like a brand new tin of Desert--040214--abqmag2peppermint Altoids,  the April issue of Albuquerque The Magazine. ABQTHEMAG.COM.  YES! SAVED!  Good bye grimy March! Helloooooo daffodilly, marshmallow eggy, bouncy bunny, syrupy sweet April.
Syrup- that’s just what’s dripping off the plump berries atop the huge stack of pancakes on the cover of  Albuquerque The Magazine with its lead article, ” How to Build the Perfect ABQ Breakfast.” That’s my ABQ! Who cares about crime scenes and crushed dreams, when we can immerse ourselves in breakfast! And, look, look! This is just too good. An extra bonus wrapped up with Albuquerque The Magazine- a mini-mag, “New To  ABQ, The Most Unique & Valuable Resource For New
Albuquerqueans.” Is this a gift from the blog gods or what?!

Time to dump those gritty ABQ Journals into the  recycling bin for my zoo docent neighbor to bring to the BioPark for cage liners. Let the critters poop on all that negative news. We’re skipping off to discover “38 Ways to Know You’re an Albuquerquean” and ” Going Organic-Top Tips for Doing It Yourself.”

BTW, Walgreens doesn’t carry Albuquerque The Magazine. Walgreens only carries things that come on the truck.  Whenever I ask Desert- 040214- truckwhy something isn’t in stock at Walgreens, the store people tell me, “It wasn’t on the truck.” It seems that although there is a Walgreens on every major intersection in ABQ, all the merchandise comes on “the truck,” which, if the stars are aligned correctly, arrives on Thursdays or maybe only on the Thursday after Groundhog’s Day. Apparently, in the Walgreens Empire, we are Albuquerquestan- remote, isolated, exotic and worthy only of whatever happens to be on the truck after it’s made its Colorado deliveries.
Walgreens, are you at the corner of clueless and couldn’t- care-less? That’s no way to be an Albuquerquean!  No perfect breakfast for you!

And what does ABQ The Magazine say about about the perfect breakfast?  ABQ chefs and food bloggers share recipes for such morning treats as carnitas omelet, huevos rellenos, and the pancakes featured on the cover which turn out to be cottage cheese latkes! Who knew? “Going Organic…” includes Skarsgard Farms, my favorite organic veggie farm and delivery service. Not a single one of the “38 Ways to Know You’re an Albuquerquean” refers to being shot by police or being a high school drop-out. Even the numerous ads which dot the slick, bright pages are upbeat and tempting including one recruiting candidates for the APD Bomb Desert--040214--bombsquadSquad with Bomb Squad members posing like fashionistas in their protective gear.

All 272 shiny pages of look-how-great-it-is-to-live-here articles make ABQ feel like a dry, high altitude Garden of Eden.
Smile! It’s April! Let’s share some Breakfast Green Chile at the corner of the Bosque Bike Trail and the Rio Grande (That’s “Rhee-yo Grohn-deh” to you newcomers.)

[Desert Droppings] – Spam, Rats, and Pastrami: Food for Thought from the ABQ

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As a finalist in Tesla’s $5 billion battery factory competition, NM is anxiously adjusting her implants, curling her extensions, and Desert-031914-journalstretching her swimsuit just so. “Does this Mesa make my butte look big?” We want that factory soooooo badly (even though NM law prohibits Tesla Motors from selling its cars directly to consumers. Oops!)

Don’t you mind that legal lingo,though, Tesla. A few bucks to the right folks and that law will evaporate quicker than a summer shower on a rocky xeriscaped yard. Just look up there – immense blue sky, lavender mountain sunset, tantalizing whiff of roasting chile. You want it, Tesla. You know you do.

But, so far, no word from Mr. Musk…sigh.

Hey, ABQ and NM, always look on the bright side. We do have a state winner  straight out of Monty Python. An ABQ fourth grader is the 2014 national grand prize  Spam recipe winner in the kid’s division. Her dish, a breakfast concoction called “Nutty Spam Surprise,” combines Spam Classic, eggs, cream,peanut butter, white sandwich bread, and apples for a heart-stopping way to start the day. According to an ABQ Journal “UpFront” article by columnist Leslie Linthicum, this junior chef comes from a whole Spamily. Her kinfolk have garnered “19 Spam contest ribbons” in the past 9 years!  “Nutty Spam Surprise” was inspired by the winner’s grandmother’s
“grilled peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. ”

OK- Time out for transparency! I have never purchased a can of Spam. I have no idea what Spam looks like or how it tastes. As DD fans know, my family reveled in chopped liver, chicken fat, and pickled tongue. Pork products like Spam were not on my grandmother’s menu.

So, in the spirit of online journalistic accuracy, (weird concept, I know) I am now about to open a 12oz. can of Spam Classic.    Desert-031914-spam2Ooooooh! It’s as pink as a piggy’s bottom! The slightly gelatinous block can be easily sliced, cubed, or julienned. The better to mix with mac and cheese as the can suggests, or fried with onions, potatoes, and chile as the young winner’s family does.

Will I fry, bake, or microwave my Spam…or perhaps, toss some cold, bubblegum-hued cubes into a salad?  Sorry, but no. I still don’t eat Spam’s main ingredients, “pork with ham.”
What’s that about anyway, Hormel? I thought ham was a form of pork. It’s like saying,”pasta with Spaghetti-Os,”or  “fish with canned tuna,” or, SEGUE ALERT “rats with gelatin and grape jelly!”

With its 16g of fat, 790 mg of sodium, and 180 calories in a  2oz serving, not to mention its 2year  4 month nitrite-fueled shelf life, Desert Droppings- 031914- ratSpam is the ideal food to keep on hand for the Zombie Apocalypse. And that  brings us to the “rats” featured in this post’s title.
Apparently, live rats make good Zombie snacks – sort of like rodent flavored Beggin’ Strips. Dangle a plump rat by the tail to be slurped up by a voracious Zombie, and you’ve made a rotten friend for life …or un-life….or something.

To avoid revealing this week’s intense episode of The Walking Dead, I’ll say no more.  Except- in the behind the scenes section of The Talking Dead,  we learned that the “rat” was really an “edible prop” made of gelatin and filled with grape jelly. What?!  They’re not real Zom…they’re actors! You knew that, right? Sorry!  Yes, yes, they’re real- every bit as real as …ABQ pastrami.

In the years before I could tell a jalapeño from a habanero, there was pastrami – rich, red, fatty slabs stacked sky high on robust ryeDessert-031914-pastrami slices with sauerkraut- a staple of the Carnegie Deli; sold by the deliciously greasy pound at Zabar’s. Pastrami!
ABQ has no true delis, but when I saw pastrami sandwiches for sale at a local synagogue fundraiser, I brought one home. Between two slices of soft, pre-packaged, straight from the supermarket rye bread, was a clump of cooked meat bits in a dark BBQ sauce. Tasty in a tangy southwestern, meat-bit sandwich kind of way, but one more reminder that ABQ is a long way from Zabar’s…sigh.

Mr. Musk, I hope you like our green chile chicken stew.

[Desert Droppings] Bad Boys, Bad boys, Whatcha Gonna Do in ABQ?

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On a recent Sunday, the ABQ Journal, our earnest chronicler of desert doings, devoted page one to the sorry saga of ABQ’s dwindling, crime-ridden downtown. The very next day, the ABQ Journal’s front page headline announced, “Councilors seek to handcuff ‘COPS’ producers.”Desert Droppings- 030414-cops

Holy stupefying disconnect!

It seems that the “Bad Boys” themed reality TV show, “COPS” wants to film in and around ABQ.  ABQ’s mayor and the City Council got all hissy-pissy and want to bar the show from filming or at least from giving even the teeniest weeniest little hint that it was filmed in our not so fair city.
The City Council President declared with a straight face and no eye-rolling that “…the negative light the show [COPS] puts on  Albuquerque could affect economic development, as well as damage the nation’s perception of the city.”
The nation’s what?!
“Hello, nation. What’s your perception of Albuquerque?”Dessert-030414-abq2
“Where?”
“Albuquerque, New Mexico.”
“Is that where they legalized pot?”
“No. That’s Colorado.”
“Oh, what was that place, again? Alba…something…”
etc.

Reality  check, Mr. Mayor and City Councilors.
Someone can’t see the forest for the trees; can’t tell his a** from his elbow; wouldn’t know a stupendous opportunity if it jumped up and bit her on the nose; and every other down-home cliche which shouts, “Wake up and smell the coffee and donuts!”
Look!  You’ve got a cops based reality show eager to do an episode on crime fighting in ABQ…and you’ve got a crime-ridden, commercially crummy downtown.  Hmm?

Ok, Mr. Mayor, et al, let’s try again.
Remember how ABQ went all star-struck and showbizzy about “Breaking Bad?”  From guacamole to the car wash and “Saul’s” office in a shlumpy strip mall, ABQ reveled in its brief burst of being trendy and cool instead of being a dusty  outpost that nobody can spell in a state that doesn’t even have a single pro sports team.
True, “Breaking Bad,” the new “Welcome Back, Cotter,” was fictional, and, of course, there are no meth houses in ABQ (Well, hardly any.  Well, a few. OK! OK! There are meth houses in ABQ! Satisfied?”) But COPS is even better, because it shows our stalwart law enforcement personnel taking real criminals off real streets.  What “Dallas” does for Dallas; what “The Sopranos” did for Jersey, COPS can do for ABQ – make us a household name, a water cooler wonder!

ABQ should be flattered that a real live action-packed TV reality show wants to film here. Do you think COPS bestows its mass media largess on any old sluggish backwater  locale?  No way – unless by “sluggish” you mean a one-time triple ax murder complete with sex slaves and a Ponzi scheme, but barring that, no way! So if COPS chose ABQ, that would put us on the map or on You Tube, for sure.

YO!  You downtown merchants whining about wimpy customers shunning your establishments for fear of “crime,” don’t close up and slink away.  Get on the Bad Boy bandwagon.  Get your money’s worth by just being  where the COPS action is.  Don’t be dismayed by criminal shenanigans on your front stoop.  Profit from them with an “economic development” campaign.  Picture this:
A Murder, Mayhem, and Mugging Tour of every dirty deed COPS captured on tape.  Dub dank, sinister backstreets as stops on the COPS CARAVAN.
Offer foodie fun like a Pastrami-Egg salad-on Rye-with a Pickle (a PERP sandwich).
Sell T-shirts proclaiming, “I didn’t get kicked (or shot or stabbed) on Route 66!”
or “Welcome to KOPS City – Keep Out PerpS!”
or “Bad Boys, this cuff’s for you!”
Give discounts (if you don’t already…just in case…) to Law Enforcement “celebrities” who will mingle,  schmooze, and pose for selfies with the customers in your shop.

And, Candy Lady, in your new Old Town location, how about adding chocolate glocks to your “Adult Room” selection and Desert- 030414-glockwrapping your boxes of truffles in crime scene tape?

C’mon folks.  Don’t bluster and fret about ABQ’s image.  COPS will show the world that “ABQ won’t cave in on crime.”  (Get that on a gross of T-shirts, Bernie!”)

Wise up, Mr. Mayor and City Councilors. Let COPS freely film their sleazy, sensation-seeking hearts out in  (Make sure they spell it right.)  ALBUQUERQUE!
It would be a crime not to.

[Desert Droppings] From A(bq) to Z(ombies)

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I was recently introduced to AMC’s “The Walking Dead” by a family member who is a four season, zombie lore spouting, totally prepared for the Zombie Apocalypse ( and blizzards) fan of this putridly popular show. For those cave dwellers out there who are unfamiliar with “walkers,” “zombie pets,” or how to defend against these rotting hoards, here’s the story. “The Walking Dead” (TWD) is the gut-wrenching (literally!) saga of the survivors of a catastrophic virus (way worse than swine flu) that turns the deceased into decaying mobile monsters whose sole purpose is to feed on the living. In TWD, zombies lurch, lunge, and lumber around mindlessly making life utterly miserable for those who are just trying to survive (sort of like Congress).
Dialogue in TWD is generally a variation of:

Raggedy Survivor #1: I think this road is clear.

Dirt streaked Survivor  #2: Yup. I don’t see any walkers (ie. zombies) who might see, hear, or smell us.

Survivor # 1: Whew! I’ll just sit on this rock and rest.

Fans screaming at their giant flat screens:  Nooooo!  Get up! They’re …

(Snap! Crackle! Plop! Chomp! Out from behind a bush! Up from the ground! A montage of gnashing skulls, clawing skinless fingers, voracious foul mouths (ie. stage-struck Atlantan extras decked out in deadware))

(Survivor #1 is bitten  and with the gnawing skull still attached to his leg is transformed into a walker.)

Survivor #2: Wow! That’s no way to get ahead!

Get a head…you see the skull is attached..never mind. Just kidding anyway. You won’t ever hear a line like that in TWD. TWD is serious stuff – grim, thought provoking, existentially edgy, not, I repeat, not funny.

“Grrr, rahrr, mmmph, arrrgl.” This is fearful zombie-speak. Carefully rehearsed, nuanced, accompanied by meticulously choreographed zombie moves. That’s clump, crawl, drag, Murray, not shuffle, stumble, stoop.  And pull your eyeball in. Save the dangle for the close-up! Make-up!

Unlike the ravenously romantic, endearingly soulless vampires of a few cable seasons past, zombies have no redeeming features. No matter how you slice them, short of a brain-busting blow, zombies keep coming and coming and coming, plot twist after plot twist to the delight of loyal viewers who huddle in the dark (the official way to watch) and screech at every brrnk, glrk, and aaack.

And that’s not all. For fans who want to chew the fat, eviscerate the dialogue, and dissect the characters’ backstories, TWD is followed by “The Talking Dead. “The Talking Dead picks the brains of TWD writers, directors, and cast members in a stream of polite patter about the show’s behind-the-scenes ghoulish goings on.

But, this is Desert Droppings. So why am I expending verbal slopestyle on behalf of a TV show?
There aren’t any zombies around ABQ unless you count the gruesome group in NM’s legislature who just killed a proposal to allow Desert-021914-jounalNM voters to decide whether to legalize pot. As one  mindless member of this creepy crew of lawmakers put it, “We nipped that one in the bud!”
Just kidding! You won’t hear a line like that in the NM legislature.  NM’s thirty-day legislative marathon is serious stuff -grim, thought provoking, existentially edgy, not, I repeat, not funny!
Grrrrnk!

True, no TWD style zombies in sight, but the day after watching TWD, I happened to be in a neighborhood shopping center and saw a black and white sedan with a huge blue and white flashing light thingie on top- a cop car! Did someone snitch a bag of gluten- free cranberry/kale Krunchies from Sprouts or sneak a gummy bear and salty caramel sundae out of the yogurt place? In my best Law and Order manner, I edged closer to the vehicle to see if there was a perp cuffed inside.  And there it was…Albuquirky at its finest! There was no arrest in progress. This official looking car was not APD, but ZATU- Zombie Attack Tactical Unit #zr111. This police car look alike bore decals proclaiming it to be part of the Zombie Outbreak Response Team and a supporter of Zombie Black-Ops.  Where there’s a Zombie Attack Tactical Unit car, there are sure to be Dessert- 021914-carzombies, right? Right? Believe me, this blogger wasn’t born yesterday.  Not even close. So I’ve been on the lookout.  That hulking shape outside the ice cream shop in Old Town- nah, just an immense teddy bear.  That bony twosome swaying in the wind over by the gallery- false alarm -fashionably attired Day of the Dead skeletons attracting tourist attention. Whoa! How about those hollowed-out forms skulking rigidly in the shadows near the gift store?  Shhhh. I’ll check …nope, not zombies- ABQ outdoor art for sale.

Ok, so far no zombies. No zombies in plain sight that is.  But, I plan to keep watching TWD, you know, just in case and stocking up on bottled water, canned tuna, and chocolate pudding (you TWD fans know what I mean).  Just in case.  Grnnnk.

What’s the best snack to devour while watching TWD?  This is not a riddle with tee- hee answers like artichoke hearts, lady fingers, or chopped liver. No, this is serious stuff, grim, thought provoking, etc. The ideal treat to eat when cheering on Team Zombie is raw, gluten-free, vegan “original chewy banana bits.” I have a bag right here. Despite the cheery picture on the bag of ripe, goldenDessert--021914--banana yellow bananas, the contents are actually fibery  brown stumps with a taste and aroma only the walking dead could love. If these mummified munchies were marketed as Zombie Toes, they might possibly become a cult favorite.  Until then…
Oh, you want to try one? Sure.
Grnkl  zmrrrk!
You’re welcome.