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By
Shirley Fong-Torres (Along historic Route 66, author Shirley Fong-Torres, pictured above, tries a malt...and "what a malt!" she exclaims) Having discovered "The Answer" to "The Question," my bipolar bear was carried off in a flash flood of New Mexican mysticism. After studying at the feet of Albuquerque's three green chile gurus, Mommy was ready to pursue less heated adventures in culinary travel. So to contemplate our new directions, we visited a place where perspective is a commodity. The Sandia Peak Ski and Tramway has been lifting visitors over the vast gorges of the Sandia Mountains for over half a century. People come in the winter to ski, but it's just as busy in the summer months because the view is devastating. What other ski lift has site lines to desert, mountains and an entire major city? From the tram, Wro spied coyote, jack rabbits and deer below. It took the same time to go down as to go up, though that was hard to believe because climbing gave the illusion of slow and tedious travail, whereas the descent seemed as effortless as gliding. In that, the tram is good analogy for Albuquerque, a place that seems to mess with the laws of time. Restaurants at both the top and bottom of the tram provide vistas that compete with the chefs and bartenders for top billing. We chose San Diago Grill at the bottom, where all seats had a view of the sunset, which drew a standing ovation from guests that evening. The blood orange margarias helped us forgive our waiter for describing his drinks as "hand-crafted." We drifted to the Coastal Mexico section of the menu, for plantain-wrapped halibut with mango salsa. Wro, fully into his holy man persona, had blue corn enchiladas and calabacitas, a mixture of corn, zucchini, onion, garlic and chile, which he called "Our People's Food." Hyatt Tamaya Resort and Spa -- Uniquely New Mexico Travel Tip: If you are traveling with a bipolar bear on a vision quest, or if you just want to settle serenely in old traditions, with modern comforts, the Hyatt Tamaya Resort and Spa awaits you. It's a uniquely New Mexican resort. Besides hot air balloon rides and horseback trails, nature walks and tennis, the resort offers guests an opportunity to enjoy tribal song and dancing, flute playing and horno bread baking.
(Wro checks out hot clothes at the Balloon Museum) As in so many parts of America, sovereign pueblos have used casinos to subsidize a better life for the people. The partnership with Hyatt came like gambler's luck. Flush with earnings from their Santa Ana Star Casino, the tribe contemplated a motor court resort, but after seeking counsel from another Indian tribe, they upgraded their thinking and partnered with Hyatt on a resort and spa, which preserves the sacred spirit of Santa Ana land while also creating tourism appeal. Tucked far from the highway and the casino, Hyatt's GM Steve Dewire listed some of the details that give the place a native vibe: ~Resort landscaping imitates in natural landscape. To the left of three pool plaza is grassland, to the right is river basin vegetation, minus some species that helped with flood control before dams were built in the 1930's, but were simply invasive before the resort cleared them ~Tennis courts are not lighted, as natural culture is built around the night sky. ~The golf course incorporates natural desert vegetation. ~The air conditioning system is filled with pinon. ~Guests are encouraged to remove watches. ~Spa includes an outdoor sauna. Symbolic values also helped the mood. "Tamayo" is the word for morning mist off the Rio Grande. Pools are shaped as kiva, a piazza and an ox bow. Then there is the "horno," a Spanish name for the native huranas, or adobe ovens, which attracted us to their bread making classes. Alicia Ortiz, Santa Ana Cultural Director, told Wro how the place got its name. "Centuries ago, the Twin War Chiefs, Mase'iwe and Uyuye'ewi, directed the people of the Yellow Light to this river valley. Later, when foreigners came, the Tamayama welcomed them and their animals into their adobes. "They shared their belief systems, but the foreigners wanted to force their belief systems on the Tamayama, who became sick from diseases carried by the foreigners and their animals and were subjugated, forced to accept slavery and forced language and forced religion and a new name - the Santa Ana." Syreeta Mancheago, our bread teacher, added that the Tamayama adapted, first by accepting foreign things like "peaches, apples, grapes and watermelons." "They became cattle herders," she said, "shepherds and farmers using metal tools." So today's means of assimilating and prospering are part of the natural progression: a smoke shop, a Blue Corn enterprise, a casino, golf course, clothing enterprise dedicated to native artisans, and a resort that incorporates native methods. Alicia and Syreeta direct a Srai-Wi program (Keres for "my children") that ranges from nature walks and horseback riding to tribal song and dancing, flute playing and bread baking.
(Wro helps shape the loaf of bread into a bear, of course!) Wro helped bake a couple loaves, which he designed in the shape of a bear, of course. We all prayed the rising yeast wouldn't distort his art work. "Our bread is simple, made with flour, lard, salt and yeast," Syreeta explained. "In San Francisco, it would be called 'hand-crafted, artisan-designed,'" Wro told her.
(Shirley and Wro continue the baking process) The resort kitchen also amalgamates native and modern traditions. The Corn Maiden Restaurant menu has calamari in masa (cornmeal breading), spit roasts of four kinds of indigenous meats with relishes of bean and corn. Veal tenderloins are baked in terra cotta and presented tableside. Crème brulee comes in unusual forms, including sweet corn and pecan. Tempting as it is to just linger in the spa and resort, Albuquerque beckoned with an array of quirky personalities, some of whom had agreed to meet with us. Meet Pratt Morales of Golden Crown Panderia Golden Crown Panderia is a bakery that anchors a neighborhood. Pratt Morales moved here in 1963 and has staunchly resisted offers to move to larger markets. "I love the neighborhood," he said. "I have been here, and a mile down the road, for 35 years now. That's my house next door. My son Christopher and I run this place with one helper. It's truly a Pop and Son place, now. "I am trying to preserve the tradition of the neighborhood bakery and the neighborhood culture, 600 years of local culture in baking here. Anise is the oldest and main ingredient." Wro tells him the aroma is wonderful, and Pratt responds, "Yeah, I take a bath every day now."
(Wro and his new friend, Pratt Morales) He explained his unusually humble advertising slogan. "We switched from cooking in lard to canola and have worked hard to try to make it taste like lard," he said. "Our slogan is 'Almost like Grandma's.' You don't step on Grandma's shoes." Christopher tells us that they ship anywhere. "We shipped 120 pounds of biscochitos to a grocery store in Nigeria last night," he said. "We have orders for Christmas already. People remember last Christmas when the lines were 3 hours long and some people couldn't get what they wanted." Green chile bread, which Pratt says he originated, and biscochitos (little cookies) are the Golden specialties, but sculpting put them on the foodie map. "We will sculpt anything a customer asks for," said Pratt, who has lectured on bread at the University of New Mexico and at the Museum of Anthropology. "We do lots of balloons, animals, faces, wagons. We get some requests for erotica. We never use molds, it's all hand done. We can preserve bread sculptures for 20 years with polyurethane." Pizza is also popular here. Wro longingly eyed one that a lady named Tara Luna was eating. She told him that she is the sales woman in charge of Pratt's shipping account with DHL. "He's one of our top ten accounts," she said, offering Wro her last piece of pizza. He will ship 40 boxes a night at times. I love it because I can expense out my visits here." What's a mother to do? Heading to Old Town From the bakery we headed to Old Town, where the Spanish were turning the pueblo people on to donuts nearly 300 years ago. We met a lady whose reputation for sweet decadence is national. Deborah Ball is The Candy Lady, owner of the The Candy Lady's Kitchen. She told us that her business was floundering until she got some publicity in 1982 for making X-rated candy. "That saved the business," she noted. Like Pratt Morales, she personalizes the treats she sells. Wro asked her about the strangest requests she's heard. "A minister asked for a dozen each of chocolate covered strawberries and chocolate covered pearl onions. He wanted to teach a Sunday school class a lesson about not prejudging," she replied. "I was asked to make a bunt cake in shape of a thermometer for a retiring doctor. Orders for a dozen chocolate penises are pretty common, but the first time it seemed strange. People bring me every kind of insect imaginable and ask me to cover them in chocolate." It's not all risqué though, Deb makes candies, personally, for almost any allergy victim. She makes diabetic candies too, by the batch. This, too, is a family business. "I started working with my mom, now I work with my husband. Started in my home kitchen, selling at antique shows. It just outgrew that," she said, as Wro shamelessly eyed a batch of truffles. Gorged with Chocolates, Cookies and Pizza Gorged with chocolates and cookies and pizza, Wro begged me to take him to dinner at the Hotel Albuquerque in Old Town. I suspected an ulterior motive. This boutique hotel mixes a 12-story condo building with the 10 story hotel. Both share the amenities of a hot club, a new ball room and wedding chapel, a lovely lobby and the indoor-outdoor Maria Teresa restaurant. Since Wro is always watching his svelte (his word, not mine) figure, I knew something other than food was attracting him. On the outdoor dining room patio was none other than Gustavo Pimentel, the finest musician in the world famous family of classical and a flamenco guitar makers - Pimentel & Sons. Since 1951, the great musicians of the world have visited the Albuquerque workshop, where rosewood and love craft visions that grace all the great concert halls of the world as well as the Smithsonian Institution. Wro gushed about Gustavo's "flamenco eye brows," and I quickly agreed, afraid he might explain what that meant. The classical music prepared us for an excursion to Albuquerque's bastion of high culture, the Albuquerque Museum of Art. In conjunction with the city's tri-centennial, the museum mounted a three part retrospective of Spanish art, with major museums from all over the world lending treasures. It's the kind of huge show that few museums in even the largest cities attempt any more. The AMA also has a more accessible presence, representing local folk and religious arts. We were dazzled by Luis Tapas take on a Chima altar, transformed as old Ford dashboard. There was also a photography show documenting the 1931 opening of Tingley Beach, a defining moment in Albuquerque history. That huge project alleviated the annual flood plague and became a cultural phenomenon and the inspiration of future enchantments. As Wro puts it, if a town can bring a beach to the middle of the desert, then miracles become the landscape of the people, and automobile dashboards can be places of worship. Get Your Kicks on Route 66… Whatever that deduction lacked in logic, it more than compensated in opportunism. For Wro's vision quest would spend the next day on that most iconic pathway of the American landscape, Route 66. With
Bobby Troop's original 1946 version of the song ("Get your kicks, on Route
66") playing, Wro and I set out with Mike …. on the living history blacktop
that was America's first superhighway system, connecting Chicago with Los Angeles. Interspersed are signs of transformation, not too different from what Luis Tapas does in his art. The Fijian Paradise Grill is part of this new 66, with Pacific Island food. Grand Central International Marketplace is too, housing start-up versions of the American dream. May Cafe and Paul Bunyan Then there is May Café, which has incorporated an historic huge Paul Bunyan and Ax statue, formerly of a lumberyard, into its Vietnamese Café sign. In Nevada's Las Vegas, old signs go to a neon grave yard, but here they are preserved in place, no matter how confusing to visitors. Neon signs are centric to rehabilitation. Restored originals will be protected, like Paul Bunyan, from whatever happens to the property they sit on. Signs are sometimes marvelously literal. Fair & Square Grocery's reads:"If you're hungry now, Eat now." We passed the State Fairgrounds, a 1936 WPA project, and noticed that 66 renewal gains momentum in the revivalist Nob Hill neighborhood. De Anza Motor Lodge is fully restored as a tourism center. A classic old Tom Denahy filling station/Ford dealership is now the hot bar Kelly's Brew Pub. The historic Valentine Diner is now police substation, and the old fire station is now a café. Ethnic cafes and music clubs are rife as low humidity. Nob Hill is a 13-block area of an original buildings that were the town's first gentile shopping center. After the first malls and the even more gentile suburbs were built, Nob Hill fell into gentile decay, until restoration began under architect-owners in the late 1980's. One place that is not yet on-line with the restoration draws our attention. At Nob Hill Motel, we photograph a room that looks untouched for decades. Barefoot Manager Tom Adams came out to explain, and to admire Wro. He told us the place has a new owner, Matt is his name, but he wouldn't want his whole name used, at least not until he can clean up the properties. "We just bought this place last week," he said. "We have to keep that door open (pointing to the room we had photographed) because the toilet overflowed, and it really smells bad in there. We'll pull up the carpets and start remodeling then, but we already got the drug dealers out of here, so we're on our way. We bought the Aztec, too, just after they shot "3 Wisemen" there." Such cheap hotels near the university keep company with legends that go beyond pulp Hollywood. One of these places is said to be where Bill Gates and Paul Allen brainstormed the software system that would become Microsoft. Then Tom he made a request as mysterious as the identity of the motel's owner. "Can I go introduce Wro to my room mate? He's really shy but he loves bears. He wouldn't want to be photographed, but he simply has to meet Wroburlto." When Wro returned from his private meeting, we broke for lunch at the Route 66 Diner. The recipes there come from family and friends. In fact the owners ask people to bring their recipes in and if they like them, they go on the menu and you get treated to a party. The green chile is popular here. "Duh," said Wro, busy doing photo shoots with Elvis and Marilyn, along with appropriate auto props. The Famous Frontier Restaurant After lunch we noticed more icons of the road and more transformations. The Frontier Restaurant is one of the most famous campus town diners in American, an entire block long and we're told it is busy 24-7. The old Albuquerque High School is being made into lofts, incorporating the trappings of the school, such as gym bleachers, chalk blackboards, etc. We returned to La Posada Albuquerque, formerly the Hilton Hotel. Mike tells us that Conrad Hilton was born on Christmas Day in 1887 in San Antonio, New Mexico. His first hotel was in Cisco, Texas, but this is the one that made him. History comes as anecdotally. "LBJ, running for re-election, had an extension cord brought in so he could close deals on the john," said Mike. "Mike Todd called Liz Taylor for the last time from the phone at the lobby bar, and died two days later flying out of Albuquerque. "Jimmy Stewart was good friends with the head bell hop and retreated here for long weekends, swapping tales with the bell hop over whiskey. "The hotel was known as Democratic Party Headquarters for years. Boss Tingley (the mayor and governor who built the beach in the desert) had held court here and Tingley's chair was reserved for him." Further downtown there are even older buildings, like the Mayan Deco Kewa Theatre from the 1927 and the Rosenwald Building from 1910. Lindy's Coffee Shop has been here since 1927. Because part of 66 cut through Barelas, we returned there on a slight detour to visit the Hispanic Cultural Center, an amazing arts, music, film and soon-to-be culinary complex to the heritage of Albuquerque's second group of settlers. The artist Reuben Trejo was born in a rail road box car and his mixed media works here were made mainly with materials excavated from old rail road beds. Spike that. Then it was back to Nob Hill for dinner at Graze. Whenever possible, owner/chef Jennifer James uses fresh local ingredients from farmers supporting sustainable agriculture. We tried a Sicilian salad that included heirloom tomatoes and fresh arugula. Her lamb is local and her Feta is from Tucumcari. Chick pea fries are a signature dish, coming with 3 "ketchups" of mushrooms, tomatoes and blueberry bases. Calamari were soaked in buttermilk and flash-fried, then served with chick peas, baby tomatoes, local onions, fresh basil and spicy aioli. Grilled radicchio was served with local goat cheese and aged balsamic. We had some mesculun in black pepper vinaigrette and ancho barbecued spare ribs, served with spicy cream corn. All the fish was Fed Exed from Hawaiian waters, so we tried some. Sashimi swordfish and a whole fried striped bass, some gremolata-crusted scallops and seared sunfish, served in peanut lime sauce. Wro flirted with waiter Pashtoun, who was most candid. When asked to rank the desserts, he simply dismissed one with "I don't much like it." Believe it or not, we had room for homemade mint ice cream, some crème brulee, and a bite-sized shot of chocolate pudding. Having grazed ourselves plump, Wro and I settled down to prepare for the most literal part of his vision quest, a full day of Indian heritage. The next morning we drove to Acoma, the most remote of the 19 Indian pueblos in New Mexico that have pre-Colombian histories. The pueblo is on top of a steep plateau. To illustrate the privacy issue, our guide is "Kathleen, no last names, please." She explains that photos are restricted, even with a paid camera pass, and that notebooks are forbidden. "Writing spoils the legacy of oral history." She explains how the pueblos are divided by language and clan. Two primary languages are Keresan and Tanoan, the latter is divided into three primary sub-dialects: Tiwa, Tewa and Towa. Clans are more consistent. There is a corn clan, a turkey clan, a turquoise clan and many others in almost every pueblo. Wro, miffed she didn't praise the bear clan, asked Kathleen about the parrots which figure in the design motif of the church. "Parrots didn't survive here after we brought them from the south, but we liked the motif, so we kept it for our pottery." Acoma pottery is famous in galleries from LA to Santa Fe and has been an economic boon. Potters in the pueblo though seemed to be peddling their rejects, or their grand childrens' pots -- outlet stores for tourists who crave direct marketing above quality. Kathleen says us that modern times came to Acoma in the daunting form of John Wayne. "He built the road to bring in his movie equipment, which couldn't make it up the old trails," she tells us. We talk to a lady potter who remembers when John Wayne came, the first time, to film "Rio Lobos." "I was eight years old," she recalled. "He brought sand, there was no sand before then and I remember playing in the huge sand piles. I don't know where they went," she said, going on to explain that she lives with her grandmother, who is 102. Kathleen explained that the youngest daughter inherits all property in the Acoma way, and that she then is responsible for taking care of her elders. She also tells us that sand is forbidden in many places, because it might cover the footsteps of ancestors. The potter tells us she has bigger problems with modernity, even here. "Their generator is noisy, particularly at night, and during football games," she complained, pointing to a neighbor's anachronistic satellite TV dish, dominating a village otherwise without electricity. The Acoma Version of the Great Rebellion Kathleen gives us the Acoma version of the great rebellion. "It all began when the Spanish stole a child's pet turkey here. There had been a lot of abuse before that, but that set it off." She added that a couple Spaniards were killed and the Spanish retaliated by depopulating the pueblo of men: those over 25 had their right foot amputated, those under 25 were given years of enslavement. "That is why the church was built with so much female labor and that is why good men are still hard to find," she laughed. Wro agreed with her. I didn't understand the connection, but Wro is better tuned than I am to the mysteries of native ways, and boy hunting. After Acoma, we drove back across Albuquerque to meet up with Louis Hena and Cisco Guevara of Los Rios River Runners, who would take us on an afternoon river excursion called Native Visions. Louis is from Tesuque Pueblo. He's proud of his pueblo's role in the rebellions. He tells Wro he is going to D.C. for the unveiling of the statue of the leader of the revolt. He tells us he is glad his pueblo is the one which completely excludes outsiders. Wro considers Louis, a holy man, taking in words of wisdom: "Water keeps us all together because there isn't enough of it. My diet is 85% home grown, we still use the old corn and we have a greenhouse communally, so we have vegetables year around. It's all medicine. I hear coyotes howling and owls hooting at night. I see a million stars. That is how I sleep." Louis shows us his bag of treasures (a turtle shell dancing anklet, eagle feathers) including things he traded for with southern Indians, like parrot feathers. "We were the original NAFTA." After the raft trip, we meet Louis' wife Serena, who made Tesuque style dinner outdoors. Louis called it "reservation food." We loved the blue corn posole; green chile with pork and potatoes and fried bread. After a full day of accommodating Wro's vision quest, in the most native possible manners, Mommy was ready for an evening of modern pueblo life. As a confirmed Chinese gambler, I am tuned in to Indians dispensing advice about good luck. So my vision quest noticed an advertisement of the Sandia Pueblo, quoting J.R. Trujillo, a very wise man. "We always face the mountain when we pray. It is just like an altar to us. We believe the great spirit is there." So, Wro and I went to the Sandia Casino, determined the geographical co-ordinates of the mountain and their relationship to the black jack tables. A cute dealer showed up for Wro, and Mama left with far more chips than she started with. It was a deeply spiritual experience for both of us. WOK WIZ RECIPES Pueblo Style Green Chili Stew
1 Tbsp. vegetable oil ½ lb. lean stew meat, ½ in. cubed 3 small
potatoes, cubed 1/8 medium onion, chopped 3 small tomatoes, cubed 13 oz. prepared
green chile sauce, frozen or fresh 2 cloves garlic, minced 1 cup water ½
tsp. salt
(This
recipe evolved in the days before refrigeration when preservation 6 servings 1½
cups crushed dried red New Mexican (Chimayo) chile, seeds included Make
a caribe by combining the chile, garlic and oregano with water and mixing in blender.
Place the pork in a pan and pour the caribe over it. Marinate overnight in the
refrigerator. WHEN YOU GO... Acoma Pueblo Albuquerque
Museum of Art Golden
Crown Panderia Santa
Ana Café Los
Rios River Runners National
Hispanic Cultural Center Sandia
Peak Tramway 66
Diner San
Diago Grill Hotel
ABQ at Old Town The
Candy Lady's Kitchen
(Click
below for more travel).
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