Anita Rodriguez, painter and adobe plasterer from Taos, will be at Page One Books at 3pm on Sunday, June 19, to talk about and sign her memoir of stories and recipes, Coyota in the Kitchen: A Memoir of New and Old Mexico.
The book is described as such: "This book of stories and recipes introduces two eccentric families that would never have eaten together, let alone exchanged recipes, but for the improbable marriage of the author's parents: a nuevo mexicano from Taos and a painter who came from Texas to New Mexico to study art. Recalling the good and the terrible cooks in her family, Anita Rodríguez also shares the complications of navigating a safe path among contradictory cultural perspectives. She takes us from the mountain villages of New Mexico in the 1940s to sipping mint juleps on the porch of a mansion in the South, and also on a prolonged pilgrimage to Mexico and back again to New Mexico. Accompanied by Rodríguez's vibrant paintings—including scenes of people eating on fiesta nights and plastering an adobe church—Coyota in the Kitchen shows how food reflects the complicated family histories that shape our lives."
Rodríguez is an award-winning painter who is also widely known as an enjarradora, or plasterer and finisher of adobe buildings. Her family on her father's side goes back 10 generations in her beloved Taos valley. Her art training began in childhood, and she eventually went to Colorado College for formal training. She lives in Taos.
Scientifically proven not to make them go, “Eeeeew.”
By Ari LeVaux
Kale is succeeding where spinach and other green things have consistently failed: getting swallowed by children. The key is to bake the kale into crispy chips. In a series of taste tests conducted in Montana, it was determined that kids will eagerly turn their mouths green with extra helpings.
No, not snakes on a plane. Scapes on a train—or more specifically, garlic stalks stir-fried with pork and oyster sauce in the dining car of a Chinese train bound for Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia. In this week’s Food Section, globetrotting food critic Ari LeVaux talks about the pulse-quickening moment he first encountered garlic flowers and stalks—collectively called scapes. Scapes are in season right now, and preparing them at home is inexpensive and easy. (Unlike some of the other international train rides Ari has taken.)
The first time I ate garlic flowers was for breakfast on a train from Beijing to Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia. The dining car didn't have a menu: You just sat down and they brought you food. A server delivered a plate of stir-fried chopped green things with pork and oyster sauce, along with a bowl of rice. It was years before that I realized that the pencil-thick green things were pieces of garlic flowers and flower stalks, collectively known as scapes.
The chickens are laying again, the greens and onions are up, and the days are getting longer: Brunch season is here. I've been practicing a simple dish of poached eggs served on a bed of spinach and asparagus, garnished with crispy pieces of salt pork or bacon. Sometimes I drench the whole business in a blanket of hollandaise sauce. Or more often, it’s a blanket of failed hollandaise that I resurrect to perfection with mayonnaise and a microwave. Read all about it in this week’s Food section.