Veteran"s Day - A Time to Remember my Grandpa

My grandpa died when I was nineteen years of age, but I was fortunate to have gotten to know him a bit before he passed. Many of my siblings and cousins never got that chance. He was a quiet and hardworking guy who worked hard all day long and he always had a smile for me.

I spent the summer before my senior of high school living with my grandparents in their East Dallas home. My grandpa served in the South Pacific during World Way II, shipping out the night after he married his bride, my grandmother Elvira Portugal Leal.

He never talked to me about his days serving his country. To me, he was just my grandpa, who owned a tortilla and tamale factory in Downtown Dallas. I did not have an inkling of him as a soldier, as a young teenage boy who fought the enemy clear across the world from his family in Dallas, Texas. It did dawn on me that my sweet grandpa was someone important to others, people other than me, and my family, and his customers. At his funeral in downtown Dallas at the Cathredal of our Lady of Guadalupe, when I could not find a place to sit and hand to stand in the aisle, I got a clue.

Since he did not talk to me about those times, I have to share second hand a story my dad told me after he passed away.

As my father tells it, "One day, your grandpa said to me. Come on, son. We are going to Longview, there is a tortilla machine out there I want to take a look at. My dad said he did not want to drive all the way out to Longview, but my grandpa made him go. After looking at the machine, my grandpa stopped to refill at the gas station on Main St. After filling up, he went in and asked the person behind the counter if he knew Mr. Gray and if he knew where he lived. The guy said "Sure do", and gave my grandfather the directions. According to my father, they drove way out into the country and down a long rocky road. They stopped in front of a mailbox that said "Gray" on it. My grandpa got out of the truck and began to walk up the long hill towards the house when a dog came out and started barking and running for my grandpa. A bow legged man came out of the house and told the dog to heel. He put his hand up to shield the sun from his eyes and called out "Ruben, is that you?"

My father later asked Mr. Gray. "Sir, how did you know so quickly that was my dad?" Mr. Gray answered him with this, "Son, I walked behind your father for 4 years, if he walked, I walked, if he hit the ground, I hit the ground, if he said we could sit still and smoke a cigarette, I smoked a cigarette, if he slept, I slept. Your dad kept me alive all those years, so son, I would know your father's walk anywhere in this world."

Ruben Leal, Point man, Infantry Sergeant in the United States Army, served in the South Pacific, Honorable Discharge, Purple Heart, Bronze Star.

Thanks Grandpa, I love you and miss you.

Why Can't We Be Friends....It's Campaign Overload again!

I was just called a closet Republican or a confused Democrat. How is that possible? Not exactly sure but I can see where they are trying to go with that statement. You may have seen me click Like on FACE BOOK on the NO LABELS Campaign started by StarBucks CEO, Howard Schultz. I prefer the No Labels approach. With the political season cranking up and about to be full blown, I want to retain my right to ambivalent. Yes, I said it out loud and I meant it. Ambivalence to some is an outrage! Your a fence sitter, wishy washy, unstable etc, etc.

Nonsense, Hogwash. Ambivalence is a sign (at least to me) that you are considerate, that you like to weigh all the information received, weigh it again and consider it some more.

Isn't ambivalence better than a knee jerk reaction?

I am not telling you to be any way but the way you want to be. If you vote, Repo, fine ~ vote demo, fine. If you don't want a label, well then, now we are talking.

Just consider both sides of the equation.  Don;t get all your information from one source, listen to people that you may not agree with. Keep an open mind and especially an open heart. But participate, please!

What does a small business owner with a small blog got to do with any of this? The candidates sure are throwing out our names out like candy in a parade. Small Business Owners, Main St. America. So, I would ask all of you to get involved this year. I can tell you from my heart, and I am not some market analysis, think tank, expensive shoes, consultant yahoo out there running scams. Small business in America and yes, here in Texas is not doing so well. Not so well at all.

We need all of you to get involved, visit a mom and pop shop every once in a while. No, I am not asking you to give up your Wal-Mart, and Target, but put us in the mix too.
There is a great website called the 3/50 Project. Go look it up, see what you can do to help us.

Main Street America needs to to thrive, not just survive. 

Remember When....It's gonna be a tough weekend....Get your kleenex ready...

9/9/11

Two more days before we will relive the horror of 9/11. I am emotional already, given the last few weeks with the City of Lewisville, and now the TV screen showing all the news coverage of the tradegies that happened here on our soil. The images of the destruction, of people crying are absolutely killing me and yet I cannot turn away from watching it.  9/11 is also my wedding anniversary and it is bittersweet to feel happy that I am still in love with my husband and that we are still together. Ten years ago when it happened, we did not celebrate that night.  Neither of us wanted to. For several years following the aftermath of 9/11, we declined to enjoy ourselves, rather we joined hands with the rest of the nation in somber remembrance of our fallen heroes.

Ever so slowly we began to go back out again. We started with Grapefest, going on the first night the festival opens and we quietly had a blast. Rain killed the attendance that year, but we walked hand in hand with the soft raindrops falling on us, laughing, shopping and drinking our wine. That became our new anniversary tradition. Some years, we would go twice to the festival. Gradually over the years, we felt like it was ok to be happy on that day and to do our own remembering.

I am also strolling down memory lane a lot more lately, or actually strolling down Mill St.
A lot of the old businesses are gone and the new ones don't stay around for very long.
I am in a very weird position with my own customers, now as well....They want to know when the Tamale Eating Contest is and if I am doing it again this year.

I find I am a bit tongue tied.

I pulled out my water proof mascara this morning, I plan to wear it all weekend. Got my kleenex box ready. Hey , it gets ugly. Remember that scene in You've Got Mail, where Meg Ryan has a cold and she is depressed that her bookstore has closed. Tom Hanks brings daisies to her apartment and finds her sobbing into her kleenex, yeah that's me. I get pretty pathetic when I cry. I walked into the shop today holding my kleenex and crying, crying for New York, for the firemen, for those who had to jump out of a burning building, for the widows, for the kids, for us all and for me too.

Rodeos, Rubens and Reverse Warriors

Leaving the shop late Friday evening, I had forgotten that the Labor Day Rodeo was set to start. I have always enjoyed this event, and used to attend it regularly. My father was quite the horseman in the Mexican rodeos and he and my uncles used to ride in the Deiz Y Seis parades in downtown Dallas on horseback.
Growing up in Dallas, of course I have a keen affiliation for Cowboys, both rodeo and the football kind.  As I was tooling down the back roads of Old Town, Kealy St. that is, I caught sight of a handsome cowboy sitting tall in his saddle with the sun setting behind his back.  I just had to smile.

Times are a changing, but at least for the time being, we still have a rodeo here in town.

Labor Day is a national day away from the J.O.B.'s and I almost always take my day off seriously. This past year, we decided to go out to Canton, home of the World Famous First Monday Trade Days. My grandparents used to own a farm out there many moons ago and my Grandpa Ruben used to love to go to the Trade Days. I do too. I love to spend the day walking and shopping with my husband, eating Texas Tornado Tater's, turkey legs, drinking ice cold lemonade and sweet tea. And sometimes, I even find some impressive deals and steals! We taste new and interesting food products, see the latest big thing.  We've made friends out there over the years and try to visit some of the same vendors. This month, they had a heck of a time with the heat on Thurs, Fri and Saturday and then on Sunday came the north winds. I have a special place in my heart for vendors, they are an adventurous lot, fired up with the entrepreneurial spirit, hopeful to make their fame and fortune, many times not breaking even.
It's the chase, the hope that springs eternal that just maybe there is a pot of gold to be found by vending at some of these events. Truth be told, that is a myth, a pipe dream. The days of "making a killing" are gone. What with the overhead costs for tents, tables, insurance, event fees, event percentages plus your product, mixed in with the extreme weather here in Texas and a sluggish economy, it is damn hard to make your expenses and make a profit. Even at the World's Largest Flea Market and Trade Days, there are plenty of broken dreams to go around.
We have seen a lot of the vendors just disappear, some move around to a better "spot", some go to other more fertile ground (ie, a new event somewhere else). With the glut of so many festivals in the DFW area, our economy, and all the gloom and doom we hear on the tube, this is not gonna be a great year for special events and outdoor festivals.

I have sold tamales out in Canton more than a couple of times. But gave up after a few months, after the work, the weather, the tiredness, the losing money woke me up. I still intend to be there again one day, I am just waiting for the right spot at the right time.

I can always see the value of re thinking, reworking and reversing old values, opinions and ideas. Sometimes a break is all you need to see the forest for the trees. Hope yall all had a good little break with the long Labor Day Weekend.

About time to Fall...Yeehaw....And Go Cowboys!

Don't Hate, Appreciate.

Oh Lord, it's hard to humble....you know the song.  Gotta love the attitude in it. While I am not always braggadocius, I' m not against doing a shameless bit of self promotion when it's called for!
2007 - what a year! Not saying it was a lucky number 7 kind of a year in all aspects, but when it came to the World Tamale Eating Championship, it was a great year for us.

You know what they say ~ Third time's a charm.

We were changing the location of event again, but this time it was going to be held on the steps of City Hall.  I was working more closely with the City Staff who were now heading up the Western Days Festival and we were definitely on the same page with the layout and scope of the event.  We worked through the small details that needed to ironed out before the contest with no problems. I had several of the Hot Tamale girls returning and had even talked another long time customer into letting her daughter join us.  We really are a family here at Dallas Tortilla & Tamale Factory!

The event was still going to be held in conjunction with the Labor Day Rodeo that had been happening at the rodeo grounds for over 40 some odd years. Western Days had been the brainchild between the Lewisville Saddle Club and our business association, the OTBA.  Although I loved the rodeo and and had sponsored many a junior rodeo queen over the years, I was suggesting that we consider another date, since the heat and last minute summer travel plans seemed to work against us in the attendance of our event.

But that year it was still Labor Day Weekend and I was excited to be sponsoring the event as well as holding a customer appreciation party for my customers at the shop.  Plus the added bonus of having City Staff do a lot of the ground work for the overall event was awesome. As I was no longer serving on the Board of Directors of the OTBA, and frankly just plumb wore out, I was glad to have them taking over much of the grunt work. I could finally just focus on our  business and the Tamales!

Things were looking up for us. Eater X wanted to return to the event and other ranked eaters began to take interest in our little event. The City was going to even give us a tent to use in exchange for our donations of the tamales and of all the work that I was doing. This was going to be our year, I thought. My husband was even going to help again, and I had developed a well woven team of family, friends and customers to help me execute the event. Everyone  was excited with how the event was growing and wanted to be a part of it.  My father and uncles were proud of me.

Driving up to the event site that morning on Mill St., I drove along with several tractors carrying bales of hay and young people riding on their floats getting ready for the parade. I heard a few excited YEEHAW's floating down the streets in Old Town.  It was a beautiful September morning and the world was right.  Yessir, things were looking up for Dallas Tortilla & Tamale Factory....


Closing time...time for me to fly...stay tuned for more about the actual event known as the World Tamale Eating Championship.

Football, Fear and Flying Donkeys

September is back and that means football here in Texas!  The high schoolers started last week playing in over 100 degree temperatures. NFL Pre Season and Saturday College Games on the tube.  And every year I say the same thing. Give pizza a rest and eat some hot tamales from Dallas Tortilla & Tamale Factory with your coca-cola or your cold beer. Change it up a bit. Skip the BBQ too. Live a little...Latin Style.

Football is good for our economy here in Texas. Say what you will, but it is Big Business and frankly I look forward to having footbal back in my life for the next four months. And yes, every year, I start up with the mantra...maybe this is the year, maybe this is our year. All you true blue Cowboy fans know exactly what I am saying.

Maybe Football will save us from the pervasive fear that is floating in the air, like foul bad breath. Watching a game, eating some good food, hanging out with friends and family, we can relax a bit and take a break from fires, floods, falling stock markets and fear of the future.

Can't hurt.

Several years ago, my husband and I were doing our Christmas Eve ritual, waking up at 3:45 am, dressing in the dark, grabbing our coats and driving to the Tamale factory in the pitch darkness. We are usually one of a few cars or maybe the only car on the road at that time on Christmas Eve. We made it to Dallas with no problem, loaded up the truck with piping hot tamales. We had gotten there before my father even, so we did not get to see him.
Heading back to the shop, I was fiddling with the radio, like I usually do, trying to find some loud rock n roll to get my blood pumping when all of my sudden, my hubby screams "Oh Shit"! and in a voice I had never heard him use before.

You have to understand this first. Because it is important. My husband very rarely curses. The only time I have seen him lose his temper and swear like a sailor is on the golf course!  I think it was the sound of his voice that made my blood run cold and I looked up just in time to see a small white import on my side of the car, but that wasn't what made my husband scream. He had seen it before I had. There was a large donkey, wide eyed, transfixed staring down from at least 6-7 foot high in our lane. The import who had come up from behind us blazing had changed lanes at the same time my husband was changing lanes to avoid hitting the donkey. I screamed in horror as right before my very eyes, I saw the import hit the donkey head on.  The small car flipped in the most amazing cloud of sparks and fireworks I had ever witnessed. My husband  and I were both screaming at this point as he continued to swerve over into the far left lane to avoid running over the now fallen donkey and the rolling tumbling white car.
I started crying hysterically, crying, and shaking. I could still see the donkey's eyes looking at me in confusion. I realized that he was lost.
My husband did what he needed to do to get me to stop. Reminding me that it could have been us in that accident and that we were still alive. "We're still alive, Rebecca, you;ve got to stop crying, now." he repeated. quietly.  I got myself under control enough to call the police. They had a real hard time believing me. I think they thought I was a late night party animal and was seeing things. I kept repeating, "the car hit a donkey and flipped over." I think the donkey is dying, please get help here. Please send an ambulance for the driver." 
Neither my husband or I could not see how either the donkey or the driver of the car could have survived. We continued the drive back to our shop in stunned silence. I knew I had to greet my customers who would be waiting for us at the shop, so I busied myself with my compact and lipstick. I noticed my hand was shaking as I tried to apply some mascara to my swollen red eyes,so I gave that up and just started to pray. 

Grateful to God for sparing us, a whispered Hail Mary for the donkey and the driver. Confused about why the donkey was there in the first place, sad for the poor animal and the driver. I was in a daze the rest of the day, and even though my husband brought me a large coffee and chocolate donuts, my head was fuzzy. I saw myself in the mirror I keep in the back for touch- ups;  I looked scared.

December 2008 ~ I saw a flying donkey amidst a cloud of fireworks. I could'nt help but wonder...was this a sign of things to come? 

A Thin Line between Love and Hate.

My mother told me that once. She was a big believer in phrasing everything in a one liner. She loved using quotes. I think I might have inherited that trait from her, I like the ease and economy of it.   So here I sit on a thin line between love and hate, and I go back and forth like a damn seesaw. But I am going to follow the yellow brick road down to my memory bank and share that story I promised you.

The Second Annual World Tamale Eating Championship was still organized by myself and working in conjunction with the OTBA on the scheduling and the fine details. But having worked with this fine group of individuals for several years now, they knew they could count on me showing up and doing what I promised I'd do. We were a good mix, a stellar group of small business people and the OTBA was finally getting some notice up at City Hall and in the community. We had a bit of star dust on our coat tails.

Looking back, I am still impressed that we put on Western Days all by our lonesome. Hell, the City has a staff of about 8-9 plus a hired outfit with a huge staff, plus contractors that costs the tax payers Hundreds of Thousands of dollars and we still ran circles around them. It's true, we did. And probably still could, if we could assemble that dream team.

The WTEC was held on the Community Stage that year. It sat caddy-corner at Main and Church St. Even though it was only our second year doing the championship, I got a call from the IFOCE that Eater X, a top ranked world class eater was interested in flying down. Then I got a call from Tim myself here at the shop. He told me that he was coming in and could he come to my shop to meet me. I called the husband and told him the great news!  

WOW..the big time at last. I was so happy, just bursting with pride and called my dad. He was a bit skeptical, but as he said "If it helps your business in Lewisville, I am all for it." He liked the idea of it, but did not see how it helped us overall as a company, since the focus is on the eaters and how much they could eat.

The big day came and as promised, Tim comes to my shop at about 9:30 well before the contest. I could tell my husband had a touch of the green monster, as Tim turned out to be quite the looker. We were both impressed with how sweet and humble this world class eater was and how impossible thin he was! He sat and watched the parade with us and visited with us for a bit. Then when he took his leave, he told me something I won't soon forget. "When I looked at your website and read your family history, I just had to come. Then I saw all your photos. I came down mostly because of you." I was real glad my hubby had left the premises!

The Mayor wanted to be a part of the action, so we invited him to come up and announce the event this year. The IFOCE brought all their great music and awesome MC and the show began. This year I added jeans to our look and two new "Hot Tamale Girls" for a total of four of us. Raquel, Tyler, Jessica and myself. One of my customers had asked to be a part of the action, so we had him up there on the stage with us!  The crowd was there and into it. Cameras were everywhere, masa was covering the stage. We were slipping and sliding in it! And then it was suddenly so clear that this was no longer a contest but a domination! Eater X was clobbering the tamales and the other competitors! Some of the lightweights were using their slop buckets but I kept my eyes on Tim and his plate.

Suddenly it was over! Drenched in sweat, and beaming from ear to ear, I talked to the press in English and Spanish. This time it was about us, Dad! We had a world class eater eating our tamales, but we stole the show. Dallas Tortilla and Tamale Factory made the local news that night, not City Hall.

And I think that's when the jealousy began. It is amazing how petty people can be, how they don't want to give credit where credit is due, but that's the way of the world. It seems clear to me now, that some in that Taj Mahal began to get a bad case of the big green monster.

I worked my butt off to make that event a success, and I accomplished it with my awesome family, loyal customers and the fab folks at the OTBA and the IFOCE.  The glory was mine and I will wear my crown proudly! 

The next year was still good, but bittersweet....stay tuned.

A conversation.

The World Tamale Eating Championship began as a conversataion at my shop between myself and Beth Ramsey. A longtime friend and business associate, we met at the Save the Old Town Business Association meeting back in 2002. Along with Beth and Debbie Peters of Lewisville State Bank, we made a pact to not let the OTBA die. We went through a lot together trying to keep the association alive and get other businesses involved.  We forged a relationship through those challenging times. 

Beth is a unique and quirky lady with a truly invidual sense of self. Not only is she an honest person and a true giver to her community, she has a very dry sense of humor that I really get a kick out of.
The truth is, the WTEC is her brainchild. She had an idea to have it and sell her famous chili at the event. She contacted the MLE, then known as the IFOCE first to see if they would bite on the idea. She came by the shop and laid out her vision to me. She said not to get too worked up about it, she was still waiting on a call back from the IFOCE, but if they liked the idea she would then call the City of Lewisville.

She and I served on the Board of Directors together of the OTBA and we were desparate to try and save our dying historic business district. Beth and I had worked on several other events together and we knew that special events were necessary to attract and retain foot traffic in Old Town. As the story turns out the IFOCE liked the idea and they really liked Dallas Tortilla & Tamale Factory being a part of it. Beth worked with the City of Lewisville to iron out the details and the plan took off!

The City wanted the event to be held in conjunction with the first ever BassMaster held at Lake Lewisville. The OTBA would put up the prize money, Dallas Tortilla and Tamale Factory would supply the tamales for the contestants and volunteers of the OTBA would help shuck the tamales. They were the very first Tamale Crew. Raquel, myself and a friend of mine, Miss Latina Dallas were the "Hot Tamale Girls".

It was a hot day, I drove to Dallas, picked up the Tamales in the factory's delivery van and hauled butt to Lake Lewisville. I literally blew down I-35 and rolled straight up through the grass at the event site to unload the tamales! 

What a rush. The volunteers helped me unload the tamales and man, were they "Hot". The volunteers assembled at the tables and began the big task of de -shucking all the tamales! The heat was bearing down on the contestants, we were all hot and sweaty, but none more than those wonderful eaters! What champions, what professionals. Those eaters were hungry! It ended in a two way tie, so we had to have another eat off, aka tie breaker!   In the end Levi Oliver won and I can still see his victorious stance. Our business association president, Kenny Roberts got to hand out the prize money and as he counted out the $100 dollar bills, he thanked me and Dallas Tortilla and Tamale Factory. We made the local news that night. 
We at the OTBA were so pleased with our efforts, but we decided that if we did all that work then we needed to bring it back to Old Town. We resolved to do that the very next year.

That first year was exciting, but when we brought it back to Old Town, it was almost victorious.

Stay tuned for the next episode of Dallas Tortilla & Tamale Factory's World Tamale Eating Championship!

15 minutes of Fame ....then comes the hall of SHAME...

Stay tuned yall....all things in good time. Even though I cam back from actual vacation last Saturday, I am taking a few more days...

Margarita's, Martini's and Bikinis

Watching "Night Line" after the 10:00 PM news is generally a given for me, but I was tickled to pieces when I heard a familiar voice and saw a familiar face this past Wednesday. The anchor teased us into the story with cool and beckoning words: Frozen Margarita! 
If you know me, then you know I love Margarita's! Sure, I was interested in the story, but what made it better was the connection to my childhood. Mariano Martinez from Little Mexico is the inventor of the Frozen Margarita machine. There he was, on national prime time Television in the flesh and live from Carmel, California, talking about his humble roots back in the barrio of Downtown Dallas, known as Little Mexico.
For many of us born here in Dallas, Texas and those of us of Mexican descent, Little Mexico was our tierra, our land, our place. Now that it no longer exists, it has become almost mythic, a touch stone, a mecca. Hearing Mariano's voice, seeing him on national TV and not forgetting where he came from, made me so proud. My father and he were great friends and one special time, back in my blossoming youth, during a lunch at Mariano's restaurant,  I was in the company of great men. Did I know it then? Yes, I think I did.
Being it is Friday and all, let's not forget another one of my other favorite adult beverages....the Mexican Martini. My husband is one of the best bartenders on the planet and I love it when he makes these for me! On Father's day this past year, I asked my husband to bring along his mobile martini machine - ie shaker to my father's home in Oak Cliff. With many of his children assembled, I raised my martini glass and began to toast my father, and before I could get one word out, he quickly took the reins (as he is apt to often do) and told us all. " I am 68 years old and I can honestly say I have never tasted a martini before!" "Drink it Dad!" was the chorus we  cried! We all watched as my sister handed him his Mexican Martini and he took a sip. "Not bad, not too bad at all." We told him to eat the jalapeno stuffed olive next, which he really did like.

My dad is the most interesting man and does prefer his Dos Equis with lime. Not that he does'nt like his Corona either!

Enough about alcohol though, it is bikini season and one thing I know about is this; there is no such thing as a "skinny girl Margarita". All us Margarita drinkers have curves and I am damn proud of them. Now matter if I get them from eating too many tamales or drinking too many Margarita's, my curves remind me of how lucky I really am. From all the great home cooked meals, to my lifetime of knowing and having great cooks in my life, to the laughter, the fun, the shared life that I have been blessed to call mine, I salute you, Mariano for giving us one more way to celebrate our lives, our heritage and especially in 100 degree heat, a frozen beverage that is Mexican in origin and the number one cocktail in the universe! 

Bravo, y Muchisimas Gracias. Salud!  

Bloggapalooza, Feral Hogs and Havelina Tamales

TGIF, and Greetings, Yall!

Hope everyone had a Happy Fourth of July and is surviving the summer. This one seems to be going fast and furious. Come July, I am really not in the mood to do much of anything. I kind of like it that way. For some, moving at a constant pace, checking off the To-Do Lists and doing all the "What have Ya's" make many feel productive and relevant. Not me, although I can be an over acheiver and a bit of a stickler for detail, when summer comes around in Texas, I just want to chill. I want to be, well , lazy.
We talk a lot here in the shop about pigs, pork, hogs and havelina. It seems everyone has a story to tell about how so and so made the best tamales out of the hog head, the havelina head or how so and so would make tamales from a feral hog. My sister wants to somehow use the meat from the feral hogs she sees roaming around out at the ranch. Not me. I like my meat USDA, stamped by Uncle Sam. I am a slight, germaphobe and really don't like the idea of any kind of slaughtering procedure or any meat that is remotely "gamey". Yes I realize I am a bit of a contortionist. Of course, because I retain the right to be as picky as I want, and to demand certain standards in what I put in my mouth.  I am a meat eater, yet I don't like venison, duck, rabbit, pidgeon, frogs, feral hogs or havelina....
I have eaten venison tamales, just to say I have....but I did not like them. I once ate a rattlesnake on a stick, I have eaten fried alligator and enjoyed both. When I was fifteen I was in Mexico with my family down in La Piedad and there were sows on the street who stood four foot high and weighed hundreds of pounds. They were like small cars!
Don't hate me because I am not a fan of the kill it, skin it  and eat it club! Once, a friend of mine took me up in his buddy's helicoptor in Wichita Falls. His buddy was a rancher and used his copter to coral his herd of cows. It was so fun and quite shocking to be flying above the animals as they ran to the gates of their pens. So yes, I am a mental case, I meant contortionst.  People are always saying you have to like this, if you like that, that you can't pick, you can't choose.

I like a lot of things, feral Hogs, Havelina or sweet tamales, not so much. Just give me the beef, baby!

And I just wanted to write the word bloggapalooza.....does'nt it just sound funny?

Fathers, the Fourth and Family.

June 28th - Tuesday - Hot as Hell in Childress Texas (117 degrees)

Well, Father's day 2011 has passed, sister's birthday party a recent memory and now looking forward to the Fourth of July. I do believe my father had a grand ol time on Sunday the 19th. Although not all of his 8 showed up, half of us made it and we had enough fun and beer for us all! I and my brother Joel were the first to show up and I put on some Adele for my dad to listen to. I was impressed that he knew her name, he had read that she outsold Gaga....Ribs, potato salad and all the fixings made for a great meal but the the chemistry of us plus our spouses and children made an intoxicating atmosphere for my father. He is a lucky man to have the love of so many...
And then there was my sister's party last Friday night...wow, "Oh what a night..." I am proud to say I managed to NOT get thrown in the pool, however I did leave with cake frosting in my hair and a few fingertip bruises on my arm! I am a veteran at this kind of rough housing and I know when to strike and when to run!

Now I am making plans for The Fourth of July. It is one of my favorite holidays and we celebrate it every year in a big way. Many years we will stay in town, but we have celebrated the Fourth in The Colony, Carrollton, Addison, Canton, Galveston and Dallas. After 911, the City of Dallas did a huge fireworks display, one of the largest in the country and we were right there. We all rendezvoused at the factory in Oak Cliff and then drove to the banks of the Trinity River. It was one of my favorite family moments...as we all sat on the hoods of our cars, some in lawn chairs, drinking cold beer and eating hot tamales while the boom, boom, kaboom exploded over our heads. I stood on the roof of my  4runner and stretched my hands up in to the air, pretending that I was holding the fireworks. They were that close and that big! As the night time sky was lit up with the colors of the fireworks, we could see the thousands of people standing on the Trinity River bridge, all packed in like tiny ants milling about. There was complete silence among one of the biggest crowds ever to witness a fireworks show. Only the repetative explosions opening the night skies; we held our breath and exhaled as one body, one nation, under God.

This week is about us, America, about our freedom, our hard earned independence and our joy in reveling in it. So live it up, shoot your fireworks, eat your Apple pie, watermelons, hot dogs. Don't forget your hot tamales. Drink your cold beer and enjoy. We still live in the land of the free.

God Bless America!

Musicians, Mavericks and Marriage

If you really want to know, musicians are my favorite people. With the exception of athletes and brainy nerds, I would rather spend my time with a musician or actually listen to one. My mom tells me, music and art run on her side of the family and that all my relations in Mexico are Mariachis!  I fell seriously in love with music when I gave up Barbie dolls. My cousin Cindy and I would listen to our "records" and call in to the DJ to request our song. I still remember exactly where I was when I heard "Smells like Teen Spirit" When I graduated to Nirvana, things changed. I wanted live music, the stereo didn't cut it anymore. I was young and grunge was in. Suddenly going to a venue to see a band was back in.  I have seen hundreds of show, concerts have hired bands, demoed bands, had a TV show called NEW ENTERTAINMENT in college. Currently I'm hooked on Adele, John Mayer, and John Lee Hooker, and fascinated still by the greats, The Beatles, Vivaldi, John Coltrane, Al Green, Led Zeppelin, Beethoven, Billie Holiday, Stevie Wonder....way too many to name. I am listening to "Pink Moon" by Nick Drake while writing this blog.  
My favorite Mariachi song is the same as my maternal grandmother's..."Volver y Volver" . My love of music has come full circle, my son is a songwriter, composer and plays the guitar. We love Stevie Ray Vaughn, argue about who is better, Jimi Hendrix or SRV....I tell him it is the chicken and the egg all over again.  Music soothes the savage beast I used to say to him. Turn up the radio...

We are in the Championship, wow...how about them Mavericks?!.  Hey, I bet Cubanstein is on top of the world right now.  Dirk, just when I think I can't be impressed any more by your stoic fortitude, you up your game and play dead dog tired with a sinus infection and put up the winning shot. Bravo!

Marriage. We are tearing this institution apart these days.... Man if you don't want to settle down with one person, then don't tie the knot. Simple enough. Nobody is forcing you to stand up in front of God of and everyone and pledge your undying love to each other. No one has to get married to save a kingdom or provide for future heirs.  Yet we are making a mockery of it these days.
Is it really just the dress? Is it really just the batchelor party?  One exception is valid in my book. The shotgun wedding. If you make a baby, at least try to be married, for the kid's sake. If it doesn't work out then at least you tried.

I spend the entirety of my day waiting patiently until I can see his face, my husband that is. No matter how bad my day is going,no matter what stage our love affair and marriage is, when he walks through that day, I still feel that thrill...

I love you babe. Wild horses could'nt drag me away.

Family Tradition

"Hank, why do ya drink, hey,  why do you all smoke?"

Always liked that song. Liked the irreverent yet accepting tone of it. I understand it is a country song that some use as their personal drinking anthem. Not me, though. It is the words,

Family Tradition.

I'm involved in a family tradition that goes back 61 years and guess what, I took to it like a fish in the water. Almost ten years ago I thought it would be a great idea to be my own boss and at the same time be in the family business.

It seemed like it would be everything I could wish for. My advice, be real careful in what you wish for!

My father failed to tell me just how hard it would be. I think he kind of got tickled some times, watching me struggle. Almost like a senior does with the freshman class. A bit of family tradition hazing! But like the stubborn and prideful woman I am, I refused to give in and let him see me cry. At just about every juncture to this day; when the the tough gets going, I will sit down here in the shop, look at my grandfather's photo on the wall and say "Grandpa, please let me be good enough, please. I know I'm not half the woman my mother is, not a quarter of the woman your wife, my grandmother is, but please don't let me fail." "I don't want to give up." Please Grandpa, Please!"

TIme and time again, I have watched my neighbors businesses close, watched them get divorced, watch the bankruptcies, see them get sick and tired of it all. I also see the new fresh crop of hopeful entepreneurs come in with their swagger, their bluster. They are going to conquer the world. Watch out world! Here comes the new Donald Trump, the new Bill Gates, the new Ross Perot. The latest and greatest.....

Was I like that once upon a time? When did I manage to turn into a war hardened , grizzled old veteran? I wear my wounds with pride though, the gashes in my heart, my glaring mistakes, my one stubborn gray hair (circa 2005) my aching back.

But what I carry with me in my heart, in my head is even better. It is you. My beautiful customers, the wonderful people who find their way to my little "tamale hole"  You always lift me up when I start to wonder, is it really worth alI this?

Because I have watched you move into town, move out, have children, lose children, cancer, graduations, births, baptisms, weddings, divorces, rehab, job loss, suicides, murder. (Yes, I do have a current customer who spent 30 years in the pen for killing a man who hit his father) He likes our flour tortillas! I give him my day old ones for a dollar a pack, since he has no income and lives with his mother. I have been through a lot with you all. 

As Mastercard says ~ "Priceless". 

I am like a thread woven into the fabric of your daily life. Just one small thread, but still there.

Yeah we all like the latest and greatest, the shiny, the new but we all still need that  "Family Tradition".

It does'nt cost you a Penny to smile!

My grandma Elvira has a third grade education but she is wise beyond her years in traditional school. She is a graduate Suma Cum Laude from the University of Life, from the School of Hard Knocks. She has many quotes but one that she liked to say was my favorite "It does not cost you a penny to smile! :) I take that literally and people compliment me on the fact that I am always smiling. I find that smiling at everyone usually surprises them, delights them and then sometimes some people get a little suspicious of it...Oh well, it does not cost me a penny to smile, or to be nice.

FYI, that one can be harder for me than the smile part!   

I liked the simplicity of her way of saying things. She used to bless me all the time. One day when I went to see her, she had a little red bag that smelled good and had rocks in it. She said "I want you to carry this with you all the time. There is a lot of jealousy surrounding you, and this will protect you." I was so touched by her gesture and at that time did not know where this jealousy was coming from. But she was right. It turns out that after she gave me that gift I began to notice a lot of the jealousy that I had been so confused by. Like why women did not want me around their boyfriends, husbands or even near them. Why women co-workers would be so mean. Before my grandma gave it a name, I thought there was something wrong with me. That changed later on when I got noticed by a photographer and then an agent. Suddenly I was surrounded with good looking people and I was the ordinary one! No more jealousy. Problem solved by Grandma!

My grandma was smart in so many ways. Another time that I went to see her, she wanted to make me some migas, hot chocolate, a peanut butter "sangwhich".  I kept on saying no thank you, Grandma, I'm not hungry. "Mija, you're too skinny. You need to eat!" I was recently divorced at the young age of 26 and had two very small children. She sensed my depression and made me sit down to talk with her and my Aunt Birdie. I picked at the food as she talked and talked to me about my grandfather. I loved hearing about him and their life long love affair. I was focusing on her, the light coming into the kitchen alcove, the sounds of their voices but not to avail. I was a mess.

We went into her dining room and looked at old photos. She started to tell me about how my grandfather had to leave her to go pick fruit with his father and his brothers. She said "Mija, I would cry and cry for your grandfather to come home. Finally I told him he could not go the next time, that I needed him to stay here with me and the boys." She was trying to show me that loving, being in love and losing love was universal. She took my mind off my problems and suddenly I saw this little old lady as a young woman in love and missing her husband.  As was I. When I left her home, she blessed me again and said when you want a man and want to keep a man, use perfume. "Always smell good around the one you love."

Years later on the day that I finally fell in love in again, I had a bottle of CK1 in my bag and every time I went to the ladie's room, I would freshen up with a tiny little spray at the base of my neck. It was a long day. I was driving a golf cart in a charity golf tournament with the man who would be my husband. It was a marathon 100 hole tourny. I was so glad my for grandmother's advice.

Just the other day, my daughter said to me, "I took your advice Mom and remember what you told me. To always smell good around a guy I like. It works every time!"

Oh Grandma, how wise you are....

Good bye Oprah!

All things Oprah.  I have watched her consistentIy for 25 years. Cried with her, laughed with her, evolved with her. And yes I had awful 80's hair too!
I follow her on Facebook now, and have recorded her last season. I watch them on Mondays, my day off.
Today, I am going to share a bitter moment I had because of the woman I so admire. I damn near came to tears when  I found out on a Sunday night newscast that the Oprah Show was coming to the State Fair of Texas. Only one big problem to keep me from being there. I had a delivery to make that same day, same time and on the complete other side of town. Almost Ft. Worth. 
SuddenIy, I was in the midst of a crisis. Not because I could not decide what to do, ditch the delivery or not ditch the delivery, rather because I was so mad at this predicament I was in.
I was mad at being my own boss! Here I was on my day off, making a delivery that was not even worth the price of gas and the time to help someone out.

If it had not been for this very sweet and loyal customer whose name was Hope, I would have been even angrier. She had helped me out when I needed it.  And this was a fundraiser. Plus, Hope was in the Texas Armed Guard and had to leave the order details with someone while she was down on the coast helping with evacs. No way could I ditch this woman!

To deal with the anger, I did what I typically do, block it out. All day long, however I simmered with anger, all day long I was on the verge of tears. Here was my idol, my TV BFF in my home town taping her show and I had to miss out! 
I tried to retail therapy, tried exercise. Still no relief. I decided to let it go as best I could. Late that night while taking out the trash, I could hold it in no longer. I sat heavily on the bumper of my truck and began to cry. My shoulders shook as I cursed my bad luck and my awful timing, which still plagues me to this day.
All of sudden , my son was there. "Mom what's wrong?" I heard the worry in his voice, the concern. How could I tell him? 

I struggled to tell him that missing the Oprah show, a once in a lfetime opportunity was like watching my life pass me by. That this moment would never happen again. I suddenly realized why I was so upset. Missing that opporunity had reopened the wound. My eternal wound of what coulda, shoulda or woulda been had I not married so young and had my children so young. Here was my son, my grown up handsome musician son and he was there wondering why his mom was outside crying after 10:30 at night.

My truth above all policy kicked in and I struggled to tell him gently what was bothering me. I saw the confusion in his face, saw him try to make sense of what I was jabbering about. I was glad that I was so upset that I could not talk coherently because I could have hurt his feelings.
"Mom, it's just a TV show, it's not that important, go in and go to bed, Mom."

He was right in a far more fundamental and wise way than I could see at that moment, the fact that I missed that show taping was really not that important.

But he was wrong about it just being a TV show.  

Oprah, we are all gonna miss ya, girl. Thanks for helping shape this Texas woman, mother, wife, artist, writer, small business owner and community activist. Thanks for entertaining me, guiding me, informing me but most of all, I thank you for giving me permission to be what ever the hell I wanted to be. And you did that by example.

Vaya con Dios......We love you.

Let's Talk Tamales .....Tales from a Tamale Lady

If you've read my first blog, then you know I love New Mexico. For me, the Land of Enchantment is my get away, my dash to serenity. My bundled up nerves start to unwind and unravel after we pass Amarillo. Tucumcari Tonight, as the road signs entice the weary traveler to stop and rest there. My husband always pushes on to Sante Fe. He's in a hurry too, because he knows how happy it makes me to see this city again.

But, I digress...it's Tamales we are talking about here.  Best Tamales in New Mexico were this year's. Leaving Santa Fe, headed to Taos, we are just outside of Espanola about to wind our way up and climb the last little piece of mountain before the gorge. That is the Rio Grande Gorge I am talking about. It is fourish in the afternoon and the rush is to get to town before the sun sets and the cold makes your bones brittle. 

I see a yellow, then a hot pink poster board stuck on the side of the road. The frst one says "Hot", the second says "fresh" and my husband in his rush plows ahead. "Wait" I grab his arm....."turrn around". "I said  "Tamales!" my husband said "where?!"
"Back there, turn around honey! " We turn around, the five of us packed in tight with the luggage our many coats, gloves and scarves and the family dog, and saw that I was right! The third sign had somehow turned backwards and it did indeed say Tamales.

We pull up on the side of the road, a pinion wood fire burning, children running in and around the temporary tent that he had set up as his Tamale Headquarters.  The Latino man with the rosy cheeks was smiling as he informed us that he only had a dozen red Pork and a half dozen green Chicken left for the day. My husband said "we'll take all that you got left'"

He of course asked us where we were from. I guess my country girl Texas accent  gave us away. We pulled out out and immediately dove into the zip lock bag and I passed the still steaming tamales around our SUV. I guess being cold made those tamales taste just that much better! Yes sir, they were some darn good tamales. I am real glad that guy is all the way up near Taos. He would give Dallas Tortilla and Tamale Factory a good run for our money!

Lucky Luna the Labrador from Lewisville made the 2010 New Mexico Run and yes she did have some Tamales!

Go Mavericks!

A quick and fun recipe for game night. Tamale Pie. What with the Dallas Mav's in the playoffs and baseball season in full gear, Tamale Pie is easy and delicious, perfect for game night with the fam or the friends! Here is your recipe: Let's Go Mavericks!

Ingredients:

A dozen Tamales from Dallas Tortilla & Tamale Factory
1 bag Dallas Tortilla & Tamale Factory Chips
1 red or green salsa from of course, Dallas Tortilla
1 8oz can of Rotel or a cup fresh cut tomatoes 
1 stick Velveeta Cheese or Rico Can Cheese ( 8-10 oz)
Jar of jalapenos

I use plastic Nacho Boats but you can substitute bowels or paper plates.

Shuck the tamales and break into pieces of 2-3. Put aside in bowel. Put a blanket of chips on the bottom of your container. Spoon a bit of cheese on the chips, add several pieces of the tamale. Drizzle more cheese, then a smaller drizzle of salsa ( Your choice red or green)
I prefer red. Top with tomatoes and jalapenos.

I prefer the Rico Cheese since the Velveeta sticks, does not heat as well and hardens up too fast!

Makes 8-15 servings.

Total Cost : $23.50

Cheap enough to afford some beer to go with!

A good meal on game night. Priceless

Thief of Hearts. This is for you Detective Gomez

What is more of a crime? To take someone's property, their reputation, their life or their love? While listening to some old Madonna that I have loaded on my laptop today, I heard the song "Thief of Hearts". With a great uptempo beat and a "I'm gonna come kick your @$$." vibe, I am really surprised it did not do better.  Reminds of all the type of songs that talk about the topic of another woman honing in on something that does not belong to her.  Who could forget Dolly Parton wailing out "JoLene, JoLene, please don't take my man."  Recently, Carrie Underwood in a couple of her songs addressed a similar topic, the cheater. There is a difference I believe! The man/woman who is not happy in their current situtation and wants some different action. Then there is the  woman who seduces another woman's man and seeks to be a thief of hearts. "Little Miss Thinks she can get what she wants in a blink of an eye." "Please arrest her because what she does is crime"

We want transparency in everything, lately our food ingredients and now our politicians. Today, the former Gubernator, came out with his lies. Ten years of them to be exact. I am wonderging what happened. Please forgive me Maria.  Was there a "thief of hearts" involved, or was there a bored, listless heat seeking (fill in the blank, here)

A friend of mine is a detective on the late night thriller "Cheaters " shot here in the DFW area. That show is addictive. There is an endless supply of people willing to sneak around, lie, cheat, take or break hearts.

An unlikely topic for me, but not really. Transparency is the way I grew up. I lived with a woman (My Mother) who held the belief that the truth was paramount. And no matter how brutal or ugly it could be or get, the truth was absolute.  Hard to live with at times, no doubt, but glad my momma taught me the importance of being honest.  If you ever get to meet me or for those of you who know me already, what you see is what you get. Be careful when you ask me my thoughts or my opinions on something, I will tell you what I honestly think or believe.

The City of Lewisville, Texas and US politics are in a current state of Blurred Vision. Hard to make out what is really going on.  No amount of Visine is gonna help us. Too much sneaking around going on.

Not sure how he manages to do it, but Detective Gomez still believes in love. I do also. But, I am wondering if some people including the former Guv knows what that is. 

Recipe Rescue, Retirement and Rain

Promised you folks some recipes but as the rain has been on my mind this afternoon, I got a late start on my blog. One recipe today: For you salsa lovers, try this if you like a citrus taste.  My cousin Debbie, my sister Lisa and Cliff Harris love my Tomatillo Salsa.

Dallas Tortilla's Tomatillo Salsa

5 Lbs Fresh Tomatillos
1 bunch Cilantro
One Half Onion
1 TBSP Garlic Powder
1TBSP Onion Powder
1TBSP Salt
1TSP Black Pepper

Directions: Boil the tomatillo's down. Approximately 30-40 minutes. When you can see the pulp and they are mushy, they are done. Turn off heat, drain all liquid except 1/2-1 cup. Let cool.
10-15 minutes.
While waiting, pick off leaves off the cilantro bunch. Should have about one cup of cilantro. Blend tomatillos and all other ingredients. Blend well - about 1-2 minutes on high speed. Some  blenders have a salsa button. Mine does. Black & Decker. A great product.

Serve warm with our Chicken Tamales or our Lower Fat Green Mole Chicken Tamales. Add Dallas Tortilla & Tamale Factory All Natural Nacho Chips and you have a great Authentic Mexican Meal.

The rain is diminishing but I still have my purse ready to dash and dive into my "safe" hallway here at the shop. Writing about my salsa recipe reminds me of the time I stopped by the Marsalis location to say hi to my Dad, where I found him wearing an apron, safety goggles and with his blender out on the table.  

"What's up Dad?" "Hello, Mija, just in my laboratory working on my salsa recipes." I laughed at his goggles and said "Why the goggles?"  "Because Mija, these peppers are so hot, they could take an eye out."  I remember him giggling at what he said and how delicious the fresh salsa was. But, boy was he right! His Salsa Verde is hot!

My Dad is still at the counter at lunch time, greeting and waiting on his customers. He loves people, loves to work and laughs along side with them. Sometimes he talks of retiring, I think more when he is tired. But most times, he likes to talk about my grandfather and how he died before he quit working. He likes to say, "You are going to have to carry my body out of this place, mija." And yes, Dad, I believe we will have to.

And I hope it is not soon! Never would be the best, Dad....

Blogs, Frogs and Troggs

Oh me, it's time to blog again. I have one fan who insists on a daily blog, but guess what.....that ain't happening!  When I embarked on this blogging journey, I thought subject matter would be endless and easy. Not so. As a very small business owner, I wear a lot of hats. I know you all have heard that all before....Yawn...but, blogging is down the list of my hierarchy of chores around the tamale shop.

But to Blog or not to blog, I say.

Can't write about Politics ( makes my stomach hurt), Religion is off limits, Can't write about sex. I am happily married and I do not kiss and tell anyways! So today, I am writing about Frogs! What, Frogs, Really? Yes, Frogs. I like them. Yes, I have eaten them. Fried in a skillet. Tasty. Won't do it again though. I have frogs in my backyard. I hate it when I see one run over in the street. I like the baby tadpoles. They are SOOOOO CUTE!  I bought my mom a little frog statuette that had a T-Shirt on it that said "I love my dog". (Cute huh?) I think frogs are essential for the environment, they eat flies and skeeters. I bought some money frogs in China Town in San Fran several years back.  Supposed to make me rich. Not Yet. My Grandma told me Little Mexico used to be called Frog Town by the locals. "Why Grandma?" "Because Mija, there were a lot of frogs everywhere!"   

I love that song "Wild Thing" by the Troggs....I love the line "You make everything Groovy."

Just talk about Tamales is what I should do. By now, most people know, we have great tamales. Hand Made with TLC in Oak Cliff, no preservatives, real corn.

Since 1950.

Taste the Tradition.

Cinco de Mayo, Mexicans and Mothers....

I am not an expert at being Mexican, nor do I know all things Mexican. That being said, I LOVE being an American of Mexican descent! I am not a Mexi-Can't, someone who is ashamed of our heritage. I celebrate my beautiful golden brown skin color,(Thanks Dad!), I fumble around when I speak my Spanglish, and I can dance the cumbia! My madre was born in Mexico as was her mother and her mother's mother. Since both my paternal grandparents were born in Texas, I am definitely an American first. Yet at times, my heart is pulled back and forth between these two countries.

Cinco de Mayo is known as Cinco de Drinko to many, however I take offense at that. Sure most celebrations include libations but that is not the reason for this quasi-American holiday.

I would like you to imagine that you are a poor Mexican famer living in Pueblo, Mexico some hundred plus years ago, and the ruler of France, Napoleon III is coming to take your land. You don't own any guns, have little or no money but by golly you have your land!  6,500 of Napoleon's best dressed troops landed just off of VeraCruz not prepared for what they got. May 5th is about frustration reaching the boiling point. When you are willing to face an organized army outfitted with lots of big guns and you are armed only with a pitchfork, a scythe maybe a machete; then you are fed up and ready to affect change, wreak havoc or die trying.

When I think of those people and the uphill battle they had to face, I am proud, so proud of my heritage. I have the very same feeling every Fourth of July, when I see fireworks popping over the Red, White and Blue. What ties both of these events for me is that I love the struggle, the fight to be FREE! Because I am American, I love our country, I love our forefathers, but mostly I love the documents that they left behind for us to follow. A distinction between the two countries not lost on me. 

My mother used to take me to Cinco de Mayo Fiestas in Dallas. As a child, I loved the music, the smells of food cooking everywhere, the Ballet Folklorico Dances and the Mariachis! I felt closest to my family then, because they were so happy to be amongst friends and their family celebrating what's good about Mexico and it's history.

Happy Cinco de Mayo, Remember the Battlia de Pueblo.

Viva Mexico, Viva Independencia, Viva La Libertad!

Labradors, Lewisville and Love....

A face book friend and fellow Old Town Lewisville business owner has a black lab that had puppies last week and while looking at Layla's photos, I felt  inspired me to write about my own Lab. Her official title is Luna the Black Lab from Lake Lewisville. She is my pride and joy obviously and for those of you who are loyal Labrador Lovers, you understand why we love these dogs so much. They are some of the sweetest and loyal dogs that you could ever meet, although my Luna is way too much like the "Marley" the yellow lab that was featured in that movie with Jennifer Anniston and Dallas native, Owen Wilson. Yes she has jumped out of a moving car,  thank God it was my MG Midget and we were in our neighborhood going slowly. ( I had just shifted down a gear)

I taught her how to swim when she was just 8 weeks old, over at the Cove on the south side of Lake Lewisville, close to Eagle Point Marina. I put her on my boogie board and pushed her around in it. She fell asleep! That summer five and half years ago was a great summer. Every Saturday and Sunday, we would walk down to the cove and teach her to swim.
 .
Now we have christened the cove, Luna's Cove. She is a swimmer! Apparently black Labs are great water hunting dogs, but not Luna! She hunts frisbees and sticks.  We have quite a collection thanks to all the frisbee golfers who suck on their shots.  Did I mention she is bilingual. I taught her the command "Dame un beso" (give me a kiss) and she does it. You've heard of dogs burying their bones, not her. Luna buries flour tortillas in my back yard instead. Oh yeah and she buried her piece of pizza last month in my vegetable garden. We have a gate on it now!

Another longtime customer and OTBA member, told me that up until his black lab's death, they shared a bed and a pillow! Wow, Luna does not get that much love, well she does sleep on the bed with my hubby and me.

Luna, is a dog, but more than that, she is a great listener and a caring friend. I can remember vivdly the first time she heard me crying and she ran into the bathroom where I was and started crying too, and licking the tears off my face.

The first time I had to leave her to go away with my husband, I had such anxiety. I worried so much and kept calling the kennel to ask how she was doing. She got put into "time out" for body slamming another dog while they were in their "social" time. 

When we drove up into the driveway, I thought she would be asleep, as it was past midnight. The minute she heard my voice as walked into the house, she charged me and knocked me over, licking and pawing me. She gave me a bloody nose from it, but who cares? How can you be mad at a being that loves you that much?

Luna the Black Labrador from Lake Lewisville, your the best! 

Redneckedness, Daisy Dukes and Growing up Mexican-American in Texas

Oh yes there are still Rednecks in Texas, even with the influx of folks we have had over the last several decades. From what I hear from those transplants, finding a true Texan is hard these days.

Yep, there are still plenty of rednecks running amuck in Texas. But clarification is in order here. 

There are rednecks, then there are cowboys and there are country boys. I love country boys and cowboys, but I do draw the line in the dirt against a redneck.  Sometimes it is hard to discern them because they tend to dress alike. Jeans, belts, boots and hats. A cowboy and a country boy will be polite and open the door for you....A redneck will slam a door in your face, among other things. I could write a book on Redneckness and there would still be more material to cover before the truth be told.  And I hear there are comedians making big money off that shtick. 

Being a third generation Dallas Texas gal, I understand the importance of a good pair of denim some diamonds, big hair, and Daisy Dukes!  Back when I  modeled my way through college, I had a pair of Daisy Dukes that landed me an interview with then up and coming rock band, Green Day and legendary funk master George Clinton.
Green Day had just finished their performance and as they came through the press area, Billy said "Wow, now that's a pair of Daisy Dukes!"

I later got invited to be a guest up on the Main Stage with George and his P-Funk All Stars at  Lollapalooza.  Dancing on stage while he performed "Atomic Dog" remains one of my favorite college broadcasting memories!

That was in the mid 90's and being Latina in Texas was a hot trend. Selena's music was popular and a phenom, by the name of Jennifer Lopez had emerged as a sexy Latina in Hollywood.  Suddenly, I was sought after because of my ethnic look, a far cry from growing up amongst the Rednecks as a child.  Even though I spoke better English than quite a few of them, they still loved to yell "Hey, you better run, Immigration is on it's way, Mexican."  You see there may have been a total of 20-25 non white people in my entire high school. Subtract 20 by 4 grades and there was approximately 5 people per grade and that included Blacks and Asians. It was a tough time but in way, I credit those rednecks for being great teachers. To this day, I can handle almost any cow patty tossed at me or wade knee deep through bull shit and still come out smelling like a rose.  

Yep, there are still rednecks in Texas, but when I die, I may not go to Heaven, I hear they don't let cowboys in....and if I don't, just let me go to Texas, Texas is as close as I've been.

True Stories, Tijuaana and Tequila

Truth is stranger than fiction, and every writer knows this is true. I believe that most fiction is in fact truth; unless it is something like Harry Potter, it is based on truth in that writer's life. The last time I was in Mexico was 13 years ago. My boyfriend (who later that year became my husband) took me to see my sister who was living in California. We decided to take a day trip down to the the border. 

Do you wanna Tijuana amigo?

Tijuana was still a charming place even then, a bit seedy but still the Old Mexico of lore. We had our portrait drawn by a little old Mexican man and, shopped the flea market. I bought way too much stuff but I wanted to leave behind as many American dollars as I could.  Ever since I was a 7 year old child and my mother took me to Monterrey Mexico for our family vacation, I can remember the poverty and the despair on the faces of children, young girls, old men.  I wish it was different. I wish Mexico and her people had more money for the common man, for the average Jose.  More on that later though....

Next was  some grub. We found the requisite touristy Mexican restaurant. Before I knew what was happening my husband had ordered me a tequila shot whereupon I was lifted off the ground, spun around and another waiter with a bottle of tequila with a spout poured a shot in my mouth, I was spun around again. As I spining around the floor, I could hear my husband laughing his head off.  When I was finally placed on the ground, people were laughing and my face was as red as tan Texicana's can get.

But wait there is more,  not only is my husband funny like that, but he can be spontaneous when the mood hits him. He picked up the waiter who had spun me around and proceeded to spin him.  By then everyone in the place was smiling, laughing and clapping,

Mexico. I have not been back. I can't, but you see, my husband gave me some better memories than the last time I was there.

Mexico Lindo....where are you, amigo?

Taco Tuesdays, Tornados and Texas Rangers....

Tuesdays are slow here at the Tamale Shop, but I am definitely not alone. According to retailers and those in the know, Tuesday is typically a day where most of us do not eat out, shop or stay in a hotel. I started Taco Tuesdays with the hopes of increasing sales by offering a 1.00 chicken taco. Some Tuesdays it works out, and then there is today! Wow...slow is really not the word to describe today. Blame it on the tornados and the threat of more today, whatever the case, my husband loves it when I bring leftovers home from Taco Tuesday.
I recycle Tuesday's lunch menu into Becky's Ballpark Nachos when the Texas Rangers play at home!  I take the chicken home, add our famous corn chips, some lettuce, tomato and only a mere SPRINKLING of cheese and voila, Becky's Ballpark Nachos. My husband would eat this everyday...in fact he insisted that I make them every Ranger home game. I said not so fast, pal...I don't know who you think you are, but we can switch hit every other home stand. Thus we've started Ballpark Hot Dog Night, where he gets to cook the dogs on the grill.

Just add margaritas and let's play some baseball. Let's go Rangers!

Note to Mother Nature ~ please no more tornados and twisters!  

My head is already hurting just remembering Easter past....

Easter is here. Hard boiled eggs, Painted eggs, Deviled Eggs and Cascarones (Confetti eggs used to crack over some one's head)
Yes, my family does the cascarones and yes, I usually end up with a headache because it seems to me that I have one of the most beloved heads to hit every Easter.

One time when my children were younger, I thought I would be ambitious and make them all by hand!  This was way before Wal-Mart and Kroger carried these eggs!  I began the process several weeks before Easter by not cracking my morning's eggs in the frying pan, instead I would tap out a small hole at the top with my finger.  I would hoard up to 6-7 dozen of the eggs and I hid them up high in a cupboard in the Styrofoam packing so I would not have to smell them!

Then I stayed up the night before to cut the confetti by hand. Different colored paper, a pair of scissors, a big bowl and a glass of wine after the kiddoes went to sleep and I got to cracking! (LOL)  Trust me after a couple of hours of this...I was delirious!   The effort was worth it, the kids painted them all themselves in morning with some help from a sleepy mommy. To this day my daughter makes very sure that she brings a lot of cracking eggs, because deep in her memory bank she remembers that triumphant Easter when we arrived with the most! What I started continues to this day....we are all still trying to out do each  
other with the most cascarones!

Enough about all the silliness, Easter for us Christians is about Jesus Christ rising from the dead. I am hopeful that in some way we will all rise up tomorrow in one way or another, forgive others and ourselves and be a little bit more like JC.

Happy Easter All.

Good Friday, Earth Day - Green Tidings to all of you.

What are you doing today to celebrate our beautiful Earth? Going to church for Good Friday, maybe a fish fry tonight?  Oh it is so in vogue to love the earth....to be a Green queen, but what are you doing today, tomorrow - for the rest of your life? 

Back to Green though. Appropriately enough, Green is my favorite New Mexico Chile. Talk about beautiful Earth! New Mexico has stunning mountains and a sky just littered with stars. They look like diamonds on black velvet that you could almost reach out and touch.

Late December 2010 and we brought the snow. First stop, Jemez Mountains and then on to Sante Fe.  We drove in with large snowflakes hitting the windshield and followed the snow plows. The city itself is breathtaking, with the pueblos, the indigo mountains in the background and the bright bright sunshine.

AND - Green Chile Stew. It is what I do when I go to New Mexico. We arrive and all I want is to go eat some Green Chile, then a drink and a walk around the plaza to take in the sights and just breathe in the pinion air. Canyon Road to look at Art. Mass at St. Francis Cathedral.

Then north to Taos - so very cold this year - I never really got warm.  Went hiking. "I  climbed a mountain and then I turned around." Best green Chile stew was in Taos this year.

I am always on the hunt for the very best Green Chile Stew and the best margarita I can find. But New Mexico, you have nothing on us Texans when it's come to a margarita! So what if I eat Green Chile Stew everyday for 5-7 days? No my stomach does not hurt. Their stew is very mild compared to how hot we Tex Mexicans like it. This past December was not the best year for my taste buds. Seems like someone must have ate all the good chili peppers... 

But we will return again next year...

Old Mexico vs.New Mexico - Introduction

Controversial title; it may seem, however it is not a contest but more of a comparison and not a true side by side comparison but highly subjective. From my point of view. I am Mexican American obviously, 3rd generation Texas Gal and I speak Tex Mex more than true Spanish. So when I opened my doors here 9 anos ago, I started getting customers from Nex Mexico  after I painted the front of the shop. Wonderful tales of how beautiful "The Land of Enchantment" was, talk of turqouise, of American Indian pueblos and the city of Santa Fe. In December of 2003 I announced to my hubby that we were going to New Mexico after Christmas for vacation. We left on a Sunday where upon I slept the entire trip. When my husband woke me up, we were in the foothills of the city of Sante Fe and I could make out the pueblo style houses from the twinkling lights scattered about. It did look magical! We made it to our B&B and when we opened the car door, cold crisp air hit us hard, but more so was the smell in the air. We both looked at each other and said "What is that smell?" and simultaneously we both said "I like it!.   

Thus began my love affair with New Mexico. More later.

We found out later it was pinion wood from our innkeeper and was burning in all the fireplaces in town.

Adios for now.  :)

Bienvenidos and Welcome to my World....

Well here we are....for the few of you who said you would read my blog. This story is dedicated to you.
What stands out for me is the people who walk through my humble door and how they stay with me. In nine years, I can honestly tell you, I have met some INTERESTING people. I have connected with people of all races, all creeds and all sizes. Something brings them in here, and it is not always the tamales. Many times, it is the way I have painted the buidling. It looks like something from Old Mexico, New Mexico or a photograph. Sometimes a referral from a friend, or they know our product and have been to one of the other stores.  And other times it is just plain curiousity.

Somewhere in betweem opening my store and organizing events in Lewisville, I became known as the "Tamale Lady". Now I am not "THE" TAMALE LADY....let's get that straight. I am one of many ladies who peddle tamales. And yes, there are a lot of Tamale Men. Hey my dad is a Tamale Maker. It is on my birth certificate. Listed under occupation...Tamale Maker.  My mom says tamale grease or (graza in Spanish) is in my DNA code. HA-HA. I say....but maybe there is some truth there.

I have been through births, deaths, marriages, divorces, illnesses...But what remains the same is that people love food, like to be treated well and appreciate a smile. Other than delicious fresh tamales, tortillas and other traditonal Mexican fare, I can give you my smile. :) 

See you soon...