Merida, oh, Merida

The hubby and I just got back from a week in Merida, Mexico.  Merida, which is in Yucatan, is a beautiful place.  Flying into Cancun, we took a four hour bus trip across Quintana Roo into Yucatan.  The bus was very comfortable -- air conditioned with two movies to watch (although both were in Spanish).  Flying into Cancun was about $300 per person less than flying directly into Merida.  So the $40 per person bus tickets were much more economical and gave us a chance to see a bit of the countryside along the toll road.

In Merida, we stayed at the beautiful Luz En Yucatan hotel on Calle 55 (between Calle 58 and Calle 60, right beside Santa Lucia church).  I have never stayed in a more lovely, laid back hotel.  It was within walking distance of nearly everything we wanted to do in the historic district.  The staff (Donard, Augustine and Lupita) were so great!  Since we did not have a phone in the room, they took care of everything we needed, including calling to get us tour tickets for Chichen Itza, ordering out pizza for us, and even arranging for our bus tickets and taxi back to the airport in Cancun for our return trip.  They made sure we had everything we needed...from ice cold beer in the fridge to changing currency for me one night after the currency exchange down the street was closed.  I doubt we will ever stay anywhere else in Merida, as there was nothing about our stay at Luz we would change.   Here are a few quick pics of the place...




The patio outside our room.  We had breakfast there each morning, as well as dinner a couple of times.

The lovely pool at Luz.  We spent both days and nights here to escape the Yucatan heat and humidity.  I will always remember the sky above as the hubby and I swam late on Thursday night.  There was a fiesta in the park and we could hear the music playing while we swam under the stars.

The rooftop terrace.  We enjoyed sitting up there often.  It had a lovely view of the top of Santa Lucia church's bell.

The "lobby" at Luz.  It was a great place to sit and people-watch through the huge front window. 

Our first night in town, we ate at La Chaya Maya for our first taste of Mayan food.  I think the hubby was a bit hesitant to try the chaya, a nuclear green drink, but I think it grew on him by the time we'd finished our large platter of pok chuk.



Chaya - refreshingly sweet!





Pok Chuk





On our second day in Merida, we took the air-conditioned bus (about $1.50 USD) to Progreso, a beach town to the north.  Our afternoon was spent playing in the waves and wandering around the town.  We ate some good seafood and live music at Eladio's on the beach and, oddly enough, I met a vendor who was from my own home town in Florida.  Small world.



The beach at Progreso

Our third and fourth days were spent touring old colonial houses in dire need of renovation.  We have been seriously considering Merida as a place to buy and renovate one of these lovely high-ceilinged ruins.  Anyone who has ever seen an episode of "House Hunters International" can understand, I'm sure.  For less than the price of an SUV, you can get 3,000+ square feet of original tile, 10' ornate doors, and stone walls just begging to be restored to its original splendor.  We took so many pictures, it will likely take us weeks to get them all uploaded and organized.  Whether or not we'll "take the leap" with this type of adventure remains to be seen over the next year.  But what an experience those two days!

Our fifth day (a Saturday) was spent simply wandering around on foot -- a long way.  We saw the Cathedral and the main market (picture a whole city block of chaotic tiny stalls piled high with exotic fruits, live/dead meat, spices, etc.), got some fabulous ice cream, and just generally goofing off. 

Our sixth day was spent at Chichen Itza, which was an amazing experience.  I got way too hot in the "jungle humidity", but it was all good by the time we got to the hacienda where we had a great lunch and watched some Yucatecan dancers.  My husband said the fish he had there was maybe the best fish he's ever had.  I had cochinita pibil, a flavorful red-colored pork dish that had been cooked in banana leaves in a pit underground for a full day. 

 

The Great Pyramid at Chichen Itza



Our last day in town, we did nothing.  Seriously, we did nothing.  We slept late, had breakfast out on the patio, splashed around in the pool, sat in the hotel's comfy common areas and chatted with other guests.  We toyed around with various "nice" dinner options for our last night there but instead chose to get take out from Cafeinosense, a little bistro around the corner.  (Believe me, they knew us by that time.  When I came by to order, the guy asked if I wanted my usual!)

So in the coming days (as we get more photos uploaded), I will post additional reviews of various restaurants, details about places we went, etc.  I just wanted to give a quick "day-by-day" of our trip.

Stay tuned for more!











Six months of changes

Gentle Readers:

My last blog post was in January.  It seems like decades ago, even though it was just earlier this same year.  A lot has happened in the past six months, and I have finally found time to sit down and chronicle some of them.  I'll briefly touch on a few of those new events, just to "catch you up" on where I am now in my journey.

In the past six months, we've had a lot of financial changes.  A real roller coaster of "we're doing well...oh, wait, no we're not".  My husband's job has had a lot of changes and uncertainties as his division is being bought out by a much smaller company and he will no longer be working for a Fortune 500 company in a few months.  We believe the new, smaller company may end up being a good thing, but will not know for sure if that is the case until some later point.  My own earning capacity has ranged from very good to zilch in terms of home-based work.   I hope that over the next few months that will change, but again, it remains to be seen just how that will shake out.  At this point in time, we're in a holding pattern with no idea what the future holds, so we're just going to go with the flow in that regard.

We have pulled our son (7 years old) from expensive private school and I will be homeschooling him for second grade.  It was a combination of economic factors and educational priorities that led to the move.  We realized that we were paying $800+ a month for an education that was "adequate" at best.  We realized that I could teach him better, at his own pace, since I am at home all day anyway.  The homeschooling thing is a work in progress.  I attended a couple of homeschool conferences/shows this summer and was a bit chagrined to learn that secular homeschooling is practically non-existent in our area (West Tennessee).  Or perhaps the other secular homeschoolers are simply in hiding, as it appears that we would all probably be brought before some sort of witch trial tribunal should our "godlessness" be discovered. 

But I digress.

I have recently been in touch with a niece who I had not spoken to since about 1990.  I don't even really member why she and I "got into it" -- or if we even did or simply stopped speaking.  The funny thing is that, as different as we were as children, we are very similar as adults.  We both pursued higher education (no one else in our family did), became writers, taught at the college level, are pro choice, pro gay marriage, and are unshamedly flaming liberals.  As children, we both struggled with similar difficulties -- probably brought about by the same people -- so perhaps those struggles helped shape us into the cynical, literary adults we have become.  Who knows.  In any event, I am glad to be back in touch with her.  It's nice to have someone who I share DNA with who understands a lot of my weirdness. 

I have all but given up on the sourdough bread baking, the organic gardening and pretty much every other thing that I was joyfully excited about six months ago.  I don't know if the newness has worn off or if I just got burned out on "doing it all".  I have learned in the past month that I would be much better off as a member of the "Least Possible" Club.  Membership in this club appears to be for those who are committed to doing the least possible to get by.  Those of us in the "Max Out" Club have always looked down upon those who did the least amount possible as being slackers, lazy, etc.  We have condescendingly noted their ability to skate through life while we take up their slack.  But about a month ago, I gave up and joined them.  It was a Saturday - I remember it well.  Something just clicked and I switched sides.  I adopted a "who gives a fuck" manta and sat on my butt and watched TV for an entire day.  Housework went undone, dinner went uncooked.  Everyone thought I was ill -- or mad -- or just nuts.  But that was the day I just stopped caring about doing it all and being the one to "make it happen".

That being said...

I am now doing the "Least Possible" housework and cooking the "Least Possible" complicated recipes.  I have the "Least Possible" social interaction.  I keep my eyes on the "Least Possible" future goals and planning.  I'm just taking it a day at a time.  What will be, will be.

As we have begun to "let go" of the ambition and drive, we have also begun to let go of materiality.  We had a big yard sale a couple of months ago and sold a lot of things.  Probably not enough, but it was a start.  I see several more yard sales in the near future, each one divesting us of more of our useless shit that we've spent too much time and money accumulating. 

And that leads us to my new post.... Merida, Yucatan, Mexico.

The Island of Misfit Ex-Career-Women

This morning I got up, showered, dressed in "nice" (i.e., not yoga pants or sweats) attire, did my hair and put on make-up.  I looked GREAT!  I felt great! 

Job interview?  Nope.  Lunch date with my husband?  Negative.  I was going to read "Smile, Mike" to my son's first grade class.  How sad is that?  I felt so .... pretty...and human.  I was actually (for once) looking forward to my every-other-Thursday reading gig.

I began to reflect on this a bit.  Had I really "let myself go" over the past 8 weeks to the point that putting on make-up and "real" clothes was so energizing?  I used to work in offices where sweatpants and the like was strictly forbidden, by a sense of personal pride even more so than by dress code.  After all, I was A Manager...A Manager always had to look put-together.  A Manager was supposed to be an example of professional grooming and comportment to her staff.  I have always enjoyed make-up and stylish clothes - especially after losing 60+ lbs last year - so I guess it is no surprise that going from A Manager to housewife (I hate that word) is a bit difficult to stomach at times.  Granted, it makes zero sense for me to put on heels and dress slacks to clean the toilets or fold laundry.   I'm not that delusional (yet).  But sweats all day, every day?  Really?

You may, gentle reader, suggest "You should dress up and go to lunch with your friends".  Well, that brings me to yet another realization of the past 8 weeks:  No one wants to remain friends once you're no longer in the office with them.  When I left my last position at a media company, everyone said "Oh, we will stay in touch...I promise!  We will meet for lunch, or after work for drinks...or, even better, a girl's night out!"  Has that happened?  Not once.  I have emailed and called my "work friends" a few times, trying to set up lunch or a girl's night out...and have gotten pretty much just silence. 

Out of sight, out of mind.

So it seems that going from "career woman" to "no career woman" means that you move onto an island of social isolation from your peers.  My husband is great.  He takes me out to restaurants or to the movies, and gives me an excuse to "pretty up" for him...which I do enjoy doing!  But where are all my "girlfriends" who promised to stay in touch - the ones who sighed wistfully and said "You're going to be a stay-at-home mom?  That's so awesome!"  I know most of them are working full-time (and some even have more than one job), taking care of kids, etc...but they always found time to chat for a few minutes, before I quit work. 

It is just a bit sad.  So much for that whole "network" that I spent years building.

Lesson of the Week:  Giving up your career means you will be socially isolated.  Wasting time trying to connect with people who don't want to connect is time you could've spent cleaning or shaving your legs.

A Shameless Plug for Peter Reinhart's "Artisan Breads Every Day" Book

Okay, I've been "off-line" for a couple of weeks due to the holidays and family time.  But I wanted to put in a plug for this great book my husband bought me as a Christmas gift.  It's a super deal...and really has every kind of bread you could imagine...croissant, pizza dough, cinnamon rolls, french bread of all shapes and types, etc.  All of the recipes are super-easy, even for a kitchen klutz like me. 

P.S. -- He has other books also, but this one is a great intro for the beginner baker like me!

Chemistry 101 (a/k/a "Sourdough Bread?")

I love sourdough bread.  I love San Francisco.  Ergo, I love San Francisco sourdough bread.  But I've always been somewhat intimidated by the concept of keeping a foaming, frothy jar of living organisms in my kitchen.  In fact, I spend a considerable amount of my day making sure all foaming, frothy living organisms are banished from my kitchen.  So should I attempt sourdough?  Oh sure...why the hell not?  If it fails, I've lost maybe $1 worth of ingredients.

So first I took a half cup of very warm water (about 115 degrees according to my trusty thermometer) and added to it 1/2 teaspoon of sugar.  Stir until the sugar disolves, and then add a packet of dry yeast.  Here is what it looked like at first...

And here is what it looked like 15 minutes later.  It's al-iiiiiive.  (That was a pretty sad Igor impersonation, but you get the idea.)

In a bowl, toss 1 cup of regular flour and 1/2 cup of whole wheat flour.  Stir in your scary-looking frothy yeast mixture and 3/4 cup of water. 

Then cover it loosely (otherwise, you'll have an explosion of gases when this stuff starts fermenting) and let it sit for 3 days.  I put mine among my odd collection of butternut and delicata squash that I still haven't figured out what to do with.

So stay tuned.  In about 3 days, I plan to try my hand at making crusty homemade San Francisco sourdough bread. 

(And keep your fingers crossed that whatever grows in this bowl doesn't creep over the side and start eating squash.)

Luxurious buttery shortbread cookies...in like 15 minutes! Whaaaaaat??

This time of year, I usually start craving shortbread with my coffee or eggnog.  No, not the tasteless little cardboard things topped with way-too-crunchy sugar that you get in the blue holiday tins at Walgreens for $2.  I'm talking buttery fresh shortbread with just the right amount of crumbly soft goodness.  Shortbread is one of those things like homemade croutons:  You think you don't like it, because you've only had the shitty stuff, but then you try the real deal and are blown away.

So here's the quick-n-dirty on how to make real shortbread that will make you roll your eyes and faint.

Cream together 2 sticks of butter with 1/2 cup sugar.  Easy enough.  Add to it 1/2 tsp salt, 2 egg yolks (NOT the whole egg) and 1 tbsp of vanilla extract.  Beat it all together with the mixer.

Toss the mixer beaters in the sink, and stir in (i.e., with a fork or spatula) 1 1/2 cups of flour.  Notice I said "stir", not "whip it like a red-headed stepchild".  Be gentle.  Your shortbread loves you. 

Your dough should look like this [see left pic].  Really smushy. 

That's it.  You're ready to roll...literally.

Divide the dough into two parts, use your hands to pat it into a ball and then roll out.  Forget the rolling pin, just use your hands.  Roll it into a log (THINK: kindergarten Play Doh logs with the palm of your hand...back and forth).  It'll look something like this. 

Then cut into thin slices.  I like my shortbread thin with a little crunch to it.  If you like yours a bit softer, make thicker slices.  Knock yourself out.

By the way, don't freak out if your cookies have a flat side when you slice the dough.  The dough is so soft, the side of the log that touches the counter will flatten out.  Me personally, I couldn't care less if my cookies have a flat side but if that disturbs you folks with OCD, just use your fingers to round it back out after you cut.

So we bake on a cookie sheet at 350 degrees for about 12 minutes.  I lined my cookie sheet with foil (because I'm friggin' lazy and don't like to hand-wash stuff that won't fill in the dishwasher).  I gave it the barest mist of non-stick spray...and I mean like one tiny "poof" from the can.  Too much and your cookies will burn on the bottom.  And we all know there's nothing worse than a burned bottom.  (Insert lewd thought here.)

Again, if you like 'em crispier, add a minute or two but watch them carefully.  They are ready when the edges start to just BARELY darken a tad.  If you wait for the cookies to "turn brown", you're going to be tossing out brown discs to the dog.  Below is how they should look.



Bottom

Variations:  You can kick it freestyle on these quite a bit.  Some folks like to dust them with sugar; others with kosher salt.  I've seen chocolate shortbread, shortbread with raisins or currants, etc.  I'm a purist thought.  If the shortbread is good, it stands alone. 



Things I Learned Today....

1. Put the lid back on the vanilla after you're done with it.  That way, when your clumsy ass bumps it over reaching for the flour, it won't spill all over the counter and drip onto the floor that you just mopped.  (Grrrrrrrrrrr).  Happy news:  My kitchen smells very vanilla-y.
2. Do not ever make shortbread when hungry.  You will eat a ton of dough (INTERNAL LIAR: "Oh, look, that piece isn't shaped just right.  You should eat that.  Uh oh, you're going to have an odd number on that row.  Better eat that extra one.")  I feel a bit queasy.  I'm pretty sure I'll be very unproductive the rest of the day.

I made mozzarella at home! No really, I did!

This was one of those "I wonder if I could...." things.  I saw it in a magazine awhile back (Mother Earth News, I think) and started thinking of how much mozzarella we use at our house x $4.99 for the crappy stuff at Walmart or even $7.99 for the organic kind at Whole Foods.  Economically, it made sense...and I could only imagine that the flavor would be better.

So when I decided to quit my job, that was one of the things on my project list:  "Make Fresh Mozzarella???"  (And yes, it did have three question marks.)

I have to be honest:  I did a pretty bad job of documenting the process since, quite honestly, I wasn't sure it would turn out and I didn't want to waste my time making pictures.  (I know...tsk, tsk.  So much for confidence, eh?)  But I guess a bigger reason was that I was so wrapped up in measuring, timing, etc. that I really didn't have time to take a lot of photos.  (However...I promise to next time.)

All in all, it was really easy.  About 30 minutes from start to finish, which really surprised me.  I kept saying "That's it?  Really?  I can eat it now?"  And eat it I did.  Chris and Evan (my husband and 6-year-old) were out for a bit, and I had finished about half a lb of product by the time they got home.  :: guilty smile ::

So you start with a gallon of unhomogenized whole milk.  This milk is from Rock Springs Dairy, our local Mennonite (or maybe they're Amish, who knows) dairy farmers.  It's grass-fed, totally organic.  The main thing to remember when making cheese is that the milk CANNOT be homogenized.  That rules out grocery store milk.  Milk that has been homogenized does not separate and the cream does not rise to the top of the container. 

This milk in the picture has a nice thick "cream plug" just beneath the bottle neck.  Gross in a way, but it's a sure sign of quality unhomogenized milk.

You dump all the milk (including that flabby little cream plug!) into a really big stainless steel pot.  No aluminum.  Also, make sure you are using a stainless steel spoon.  You heat the milk, add some rennet and citric acid (I have the exact amounts written down somewhere, I swear) and then cover it with a lid.

Then the most miraculous thing happens about 5-7 minutes.  You lift the lid and you're looking down at a solid mass of what looks like yogurt.  It is a big hunk o' "cheese in the making" floating in a sea of clear whey! 

Once it's solid enough to put your hand into and feel resistence (which is actually kinda fun), you take a very long knife and start slicing it into cubes.  (Also fun.)

Then you stir the cubes around while you heat it again.  Pretty soon, all the cubes start to clump together.  (See the picture at the right)

Then you're stirring around a big stringy hunk of mozzarella!  Awesome-ness!

The next step is to drain away the whey, which is the liquid stuff.  You then don some oh-so-sexy rubber gloves, nuke the mozzarella in the microwave for 30 seconds and pull it like taffy.  (Hence, the need for the rubber gloves.  That stuff was HOT!)

In about 2 or 3 minutes, it turns shiny.  And you have mozzarella.  :)

TA-DA!  STRING CHEESE!



So...to recap...you CAN make mozzarella at home in like 30 minutes.  It's delicious, cost-effective...and you know what's in it, unlike the white cubes of Walmart stuff.  (Maybe I should make this and sell it?  Teach classes for other Domestic Deities?  Or maybe just eat it like a pig and be happy.)