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.