¡Hola!

We are just back from my first trip to the land beyond the proposed border wall. And, I have to tell you, it was an especially good trip. We left Cincinnati with gray skies and forecasts of nonstop rain and arrived in Mexico City to the bluest skies without a cloud for 10 straight days.

Back in 1974, Ed drove from Kentucky to Oaxaca with two friends in a VW van. He has wanted to go back ever since. I, on the other hand, was a bit unsure. My Spanish was limited to what I learned from Senorita Robinson on a small TV in my 4th grade classroom. Muy bien, gracias sounded to my young ears like "move in the garage." I thought Mexican food might all taste like Taco Bell and, if I listened to our President, I would be led to believe that Mexicans were bad hombres: drug dealers, terrorists and rapists. I'm happy to report that none of these are true.

First, the language is pretty easy to pick up, plus we kept Mary's high school pocket Spanish dictionary close at hand. Second, the food was some of the best I've ever had. And third, every person that we met was friendly, kind and helpful.

Although we were late in planning this trip, all the logistics worked out fine. We flew from Cincinnati – through Houston – to Mexico City, where we spent five days exploring beautiful neighborhoods and the bustling historic downtown. To acclimate ourselves to the city's layout, we took a walking tour on our first day.

Taking a pause on our Mexico City walking tour.

Detail from mural by Diago Rivera at the National Palace

The next day we took a four-hour food tour where we sampled seafood tostadas, pulque, mole, tlacoyos, flautas, and, of course, tacos. With our guide, we also toured the San Juan Market, tasting artisanal jams, Oaxacan products, typical fruits, mexican cheese and coffee. And let's not forget the bugs: we sampled three kinds of grasshoppers – marinated in lime, chili and garlic.

Our guide explained the differences between the peppers at the San Juan Market

One of our stops: stuffed tlacoyos

We spent a whole afternoon wandering through the beautiful National Museum of Anthropology, which gave us an overview of the pre-Hispanic Mexico. Other highlights included the contemporary exhibits at the Tamayo Museum, the Diego Rivera murals at the National Palace, and the excavated pyramid of the Templo Mayor.

One of the outdoor exhibits at the Archeological Museum

Now let's talk about food. It was spectacular. And, it tastes nothing like Taco Bell. From the handmade masa tostadas and tacos, to the fresh cerviche and oysters, to the churros and goat-cheese ice cream, every dish was delicious – including the guacamole topped with tiny, crunchy grasshoppers. And, best of all, the restaurants we chose were within an easy ten-minute walk from our hotel. To help me remember the restaurants, I've noted them below. 

On Sunday morning, we headed back to the airport for a short flight to Oaxaca, located in the skinny part of Mexico. What a town this is! – full of history, gastronomy, colorful buildings, magnificent churches, art galleries, and friendly people. And that's just the town...we spent two of our five days out in the countryside, exploring ancient Zapotec ruins, visiting craftspeople, marveling at the world largest tree (by circumference), hiking to the bottom of a petrified waterfall, and learning the ancient technique of distilling mezcal from agave plant to mexican firewater.

The biggest tree: El Arbol del Tule, a Montezuma Cypress tree

Monte Alban, pre-Columbian archeological site

In the workshop of Bulmaro Perez Mendoza, one of Teotilan's premier weavers. 

At the bottom of Hierve el Agua, a petrified waterfall. Tough hike!

Tasting Mezcal in a small village, near Mitla.

Our hotel was located at one end of the main street, so it was a short walk into town. Every day or evening would find us strolling the streets leading to the Zócolo, Oaxaca's main plaza filled with local life: balloons vendors, outdoor cafés, Mariachi bands, and tiny Oaxaca women and small children hawking all sorts of wares.

Zocalo scene

Selling drawings

View from the Culture Museum

During our stay, we wove our way in and out of art galleries, craft shops and the city market, spent a morning at the Culture Museum, and an afternoon among the cacti at the Ethnobotanical Garden. And, as in Mexico City, the food was phenomenal. See below.

Culture Museum

With cacti at the Ethnobotanical Garden

On our last night in Oaxaca, we dined at Casa Oaxaca. While waiting in the bar for our table, Ed recognized a woman at the next table and was convinced it was Elena from the pop culture game show, Billy on the Street, hosted by comedian Billy Eichner. Elena, an eccentric New Yorker, was randomly picked by Billy on a NYC street to play the game  and became such a hit that she was asked to return for a handful of shows (including one with Michelle Obama and Big Bird). As this woman was getting up to leave, Ed asked her if she knew Billy of Billy on the Street. She did, and was gracious about chatting with us and having her photo made with Ed. It was a fun way to end a fun trip.

Ed and Elena

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Things I want to remember...

Casa Goliana, our small (8 rooms) hotel in the Roma neighborhood of Mexico City.

Restaurants in Mexico City
Fonda Fina: our first night in the city, we walked over to this small restaurant and sampled three appetizers and two desserts. Perfection in quantity, presentation and authentic taste.

Alekzander: known for its world cuisine, Ed will forever know it as the place that served goat-cheese ice cream with fresh figs.

La Docena Oyster Bar: recommended by our friend Julie Wunderlin, this hip place served the freshest oysters and delicious cerviche.

Casa Virginia: our last night in Mexico City found us on the second floor of an old house, for a gourmet dining experience that evoked the family Sundays of Colonia Roma.

El Moro: We were up and out early one morning and headed toward the Parque Mexico for hot chocolate and churros at El Moro Churreria. The setting was as fantastic as the breakfast treat.

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And then on to Oaxaca...

El Callejon Boutique Hotel: a new-ish 12-room boutique hotel, located just off the main historic street, Calle Alcala. We found this hotel through Bookings.com and got a fabulous rate, but I think I'd stay there again, even at a higher price. Breakfast was served every morning in the garden.

Restaurants in Oaxaca
Criollo, a gem of a dining experience, a 7-course tasting menu served in a tranquil courtyard.

Las Pocas, a great introduction to Oaxacan mole. We ordered the dish that featured 8 different ones, served over chicken and rice.

La Biznaga, the perfect place for a late night dinner, set in a large colonial courtyard.

Los Danzantes: I wanted to try this restaurant ever since reading about it in this NYT travel article. We chose it for our final lunch and it did not disappoint. The food and the setting were delightful.

Cafe Oaxaca: We walked past this sappire-blue restaurant a number of times before finally going in to ask for a reservation. None were available (and it was our last night). The hostess suggested we check back that evening to see if she could work us in. She did. And I'm glad.

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Every time I travel to a new place, my world view expands and I gain new perspectives. That was certainly true on this trip. I can't wait to go back. ¡Viva México!

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March 2020 Update

We are just back from visiting Mexico City and San Cristóbal de las Casas, a colonial city located in the Central Highlands region of Chiapas. While we were traveling, the coronavirus hit the United States, causing great concern and anxiety for all. I chose not to do a full post on our trip, but rather to list here the highlights so that I can refer back to our travels with a bit more accuracy.

Mexico City
As always, the food was excellent. We added a few new places to our old-favorites.

El Parnita: located just around the corner from our hotel, this crowded, casual place offered up some of the best tacos and sopes I've ever had. Open only for lunch.

Huset: One of the prettiest garden settings imaginable with cocktails that are equally impressive. Open for lunch and dinner.

Merotoro: Our last night in Mexico city we headed to the trendy and beautiful Colonia Condesa neighborhood splurging on a beautiful dinner. The place, the atmosphere, the service and the food were all memorable.

Other highlights

Xochimilco
For some reason, we had always avoided visiting the floating gardens of Mexico. It just sounded too touristy. But this trip we were up for it -- and I'm so glad. Our hotel arranged for a driver and tour guide to pick us up and drive us an hour south of the city where we boarded a brightly colored tranjineras (a motorless boat, guided by a man with a pole: think gondolas in Venice). For two hours we floated down the canals, while being serenaded by mariachi  and marimba musicians and offered all kinds of specialty food and drink. It was a delightful way to spend the day.

Ed with a beer mixed with lime, salt, tomato juice and Worcestershire sauce, rimmed in chilies.

And I just had to try Elote (aka Mexican Street Corn)

Delores Olmedo Museum
After our morning cruising the canals, we stopped at a beautiful hacienda housing the art collection of Mexican businessworman, Ms. Olmedo. The 17th-century stone house is surrounded by lush gardens inhabited by peacocks and hairless dogs. It sounds weird, but it was amazing. The art collection featured important works by Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo.

San Cristóbal de las Casas

We spend four days leisurely wandering the brightly colored streets of San Cristóbal. Three restaurants were standouts for us.

Jardin El Secreto: Beautiful setting, excellent service and delicious food.

KukuPan: just a neighborhood bakery that we discovered on our second to last day. We went back twice for coffee and a hot croissant.

Xut: Charming restaurant. Excellent regional food.

Welcome to my world

Faded beauty

If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant.

– Anne Bradstreet (1612-1672) 

I walked extra early one morning this week; the fog hung thick, making everything look misty shades of brown or gray. Depressing some might say; but I love to walk along our paths in every season and almost always find something inspiring or uplifting. 

This time of year I'm on the lookout for early signs of spring: daffodil leaves poking up, grape hyacinths sending up spikes of urn-shaped flowers, lenten roses nestled in the snow with their heads turned downward, witch-hazel showing off its shaggy, spidery winter blooms. But I'm finding nothing. Nada. It's been an unusually cold couple of months and I'm thinking spring will be slow to come to Farm Dover.

I'm trying to make the best of it, knowing that I have no control over Mother Nature. On my recent foggy walk, I picked a bouquet of flowers. Granted they were dead flowers – in various stages of decay – but nevertheless beautiful in their own degenerated way. I brought them inside and arranged them in old ginger beer bottles and assorted pottery jars.

Then, a few days later, I spied a deserted American Goldfinch nest in a flower stem. I added it to my dead-flower collection.

I have to tell you this gothic show of decay isn't really doing it for me. I'm itching to purchase a bouquet of orange tulips from Whole Foods. But I've promised myself that I will refrain from purchasing flowers from far-off lands when I have acres of native flowers and grasses to pick from, just outside my door. Still, it is tempting....

In an effort to bring new life into the house, I've cut some branches from a wild pear tree, pruned some twigs from our orchard trees and snipped some blossoms from the magnolia bush in the bee garden. I put them in vases filled with warm water,  hoping to force them into blooming.

Perhaps these coerced blooms will be enough to cheer me until the circle of life pushes forth new growth and I can pick fresh flowers to my heart's content.

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From my archives: Some photos from previous years, when spring bore her gifts early.

December 31, 2015

January 26, 2016

January 30, 2013

February 5, 2016

Empty days; Full days

For more than 100 days we did not travel any further than the 26-mile drive into Louisville. For those who know us, you know that this is highly unusual behavior. As much as Ed and I love our life here on Farm Dover, we also love traveling to new destinations or checking back in on the places we go to time and time again.

I can't explain it. We were just happy at home these nearly four months. We had been away much of the summer and early fall and contented ourselves with tending to the land, the house, the cottage.

And then there were days when rain would settle in or snow would blanket the paths and fields. Days of bitter cold. Ed would build a fire. I'd undertake a soup or stew. We'd read. We'd nap.

Here's how poet May Sarton describes these days and the need for them:

I always forget how important the empty days are, how important it may be sometimes not to expect to produce anything, even a few lines in a journal. A day when one has not pushed oneself to the limit seems a damaged, damaging day, a sinful day. Not so! The most valuable thing one can do for the psyche, occasionally, is to let it rest, wander, live in the changing light of the room."

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This past weekend we abandoned our still, quiet life and headed to Brooklyn/NYC. We took in the metropolitan sights and sounds; stayed in a hip hotel tucked under the Brooklyn Bridge; ate Italian, Thai, and American food; drank craft beer, and experienced art with an edge. But best of all, our hosts were daughter Mary and her boyfriend Brian. They were exceedingly kind to us.

I was reminded how much I do love to travel. How exciting the world beyond our gravel drive can be. How traveling as much as we do makes us good travelers.

We are back at home now, and happy to be here. But now I've got the travel bug and am already dreaming of all the places we can go in 2018....

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Highlights

1 Hotel Brooklyn Bridge, 60 Furman Street, Brooklyn. Boutique hotel located just next to Brooklyn Bridge. Beautiful views; thoughtful design.

Grand Central Station Oyster Bar, 89 E 42nd St. New York. A New York institution which I had never been to. We met for beers and oysters before heading to dinner.

Restaurante Grifone, 244 E. 46th St. Old-school (and a bit old-fashioned) Italian restaurant that we had taken each of the kids to on their 13th birthdays. Nice to see that not much had changed in the decade since we were last there.

Fort Defiance Cafe and Bar, 365 Van Brunt St., Red Hook. Restaurant near Mary and Brian's loft where we brunched on Saturday. Loved it.

Pioneer Works, 159 Pioneer St. Art gallery in Red Hook. Amazing exhibit by Anthony McCall: Solid Light Works. See it if you can.

Other Half Brewing Company, 195 Center Street, Brooklyn. Fun (and young) craft brewery.

Pok Pok, 117 Columbia St. Brooklyn. Best Thai restaurant ever (Michelin Star 2014 and 15). I'd go back in a heartbeat.

First Presbyterian Church, Brooklyn. The most welcoming, diverse church service I've ever attended. Fabulous choir and piano/saxophone/drums.

Minetta Tavern, 113 MacDougal St., West Village. Great old tavern with a classic vibe. Also Michelin starred.

Whitney Museum of American Art, 99 Gansevoort Street, Meatpacking District. Nice way to spend a morning looking at art in beautiful surroundings. We moved from floor to floor by the outside stairs, featuring fabulous views of the meatpacking district, High Line, and skyline.

Another year; another transformation

Here comes another birthday. Don't get me wrong: I'm delighted to be having another birthday, but don't really feel like doing a lot of celebrating. (I'm still recovering from Christmas.) I've been trying to talk Ed into celebrating with me on July 19, rather than January 19. He's about convinced. (He's still recovering too).

Debbie, circa 1960. Artist unknown.

Whether we celebrate this weekend or in six months doesn't really matter. But the fact that I will be turning a year older in just a couple of days, does give me pause. It always does. As you may recall, two years ago I pondered the fact that I was turning into a tomboy; and last year, I announced that I was transforming into a late-in-life protester. I'm declaring 2018 as the year I dip my toe (or my paintbrush) into making art.

I've always considered myself artistic, but never ventured very far into validating it. I figured there would be a time for art somewhere down the road. But now that I find myself somewhere pretty far down that road, I better get started on that dream. So, I've signed up for a drawing class. It meets on Mondays for 8 weeks. Santa brought me all the supplies that I will need. It is just a small step, but a step nevertheless.

I'm excited and a little fearful. What if I don't have any talent? What if everyone in the class is way ahead of me? Or heaven forbid, what if I find great joy in drawing and want to spend all my waking hours making art? The uncertainty is scary and exhilarating at the same time. This class will surely be a time of growth and learning, perhaps a transformation. Creating art is something that I've always wanted to do – here I go. Who knows, perhaps this year, I'll turn into an artist!

Joy of Cooking

All the kids were home for the holidays. (In fact, Jack just left to go back to Berlin on Saturday afternoon.) Let me tell you, there has been some serious cooking going on in the Farm Dover kitchen for the past three weeks.

Granola, life-changing bread and Snug Hollow pancakes for breakfasts, oyster stew, bean soup, and Mary's favorite vegetable soup for lunches, butternut squash lasagna, osso buco, chicken cacciatore and Christmas cheeseburgers for dinners. And let's not forget the pumpkin pie, mincemeat cookies, eggnog, homemade peppermint ice cream, and bread pudding for desserts. Oh, and cheesestraws, lots of cheesestraws.

I don't regret one single bite; for, along with the calories came time in the kitchen cooking with, and for, those I love the most. It was a time of great joy.

Having said all that, I was delighted when Jack suggested that he might cook us a Chinese dinner a few days before he was set to leave. It felt great to turn the planning, chopping, cooking – even the cleanup – over to him. Dinner was delicious. He is an accomplished cook, but I also think that food made with love always tastes better.

The next day, Jack announced that he wanted to bake a poppy seed cake roll. It was something he had ordered with coffee often in his travels around Europe and wanted Ed and me to try it. He had packed two bags of poppy seeds in his carry-on luggage, found a recipe on line, and set to making us this Old-World sweet treat. The recipe sounded complicated to me, but I wasn't the one trying to figure it out. I watched out of the corner of my eye as he ground the tiny poppy seeds in the coffee grinder, proofed the yeast, cut butter into a flour mixture, kneaded the dough, rolled the dough out into a rectangle, spread the poppy seed filling to within an inch of the edges, rolled the whole thing up like a jelly roll, allowed it to rise for an hour, and then baked it to a golden brown. It turned out beautifully, both to look at and to eat.

Jack is now gone back to his life in Germany. But each morning this week, I cut a slice of the poppy seed roll, fill my coffee mug, and, as I nibble away at his lovely creation, I think about how happy I am that he, and his two sisters, all are accomplished cooks -- and seem to get as much joy cooking for others as I do.

P.S. While his poppy seed roll was rising, Jack went down to the pond and joyfully skated round and round the ice. His mama hopes that he finds such joy in all the challenges he undertakes this year. Love you buddy. And miss you too...