Linda's Summer Pasta with Fresh Garlic, Tomatoes, Parsley, Basil and Olive Oil—For Garlic Lovers Only

by Linda

"There are five elements—earth, air, fire, water and garlic." ~ Louis Diat

   I should advise you up front that my version of this simple pasta dish is for garlic lovers only. Not all people are as fond of garlic as I am. I made this painful discovery during my catering days which, thankfully—are way, way behind me in the rear-view mirror of my life. For example, my former acquantaince Kirk Douglas, my ex-husband and many other people that I know, do not enjoy garlic at all, and therefore, do not eat it—ever. I, on the other hand, must have had a previous life in Southern Italy and can't seem to get enough of this powerful aromatic culinary herb. For more of my musings on the health benefits of garlic and another great garlicky recipe click here.

   I learned to make this garlic extravaganza after having had a similar dish for the first time in an Italian restaurant in Solvang, California more than 20 years ago. The restaurant, now defunct, was called Paoli's—and the owner, Carlo, was a middle-aged blond man with the accent of an East Coast mafioso. Carlo was dating the local newspaper heiress at the time. I still remember that he boldly marked one of the parking spaces in front of the restaurant with her name stenciled in bold black letters across the concrete tire barrier—proclaiming it to be reserved for her exclusive use. A rather cheesy yet grandiose romantic gesture that impressed and horrified me at the same time. Carlo's pasta recipe wasn't exacty like my present day dish—it was a classic Aglio E Olio, but his recipe did serve to push me into thinking quite differently about garlic.
   When we girls were growing up, my recollections are that in our family, we were very conservative consumers of garlic in those days. I remember the garlic additions to our family menu were usually in a dry form, and the dehydrated garlic was accompanied by a liberal dose of MSG contained in the seasoning mix. So it was that on a fateful afternoon in 1992, in the dimly lit interior of Paoli's, I discovered fresh garlic used with reckless abandon in a dish could make it a revelation—something that sets fire to your soul. Now, many years down the road, garlic and I are longtime lovers.
   I only make this pasta dish in the summer, just like my Eggplant Parmigiano, when the tomatoes are really juicy and ripe—fresh out of a sun-drenched field. I purchase them from Whole Foods Market or at my local farmer's market. I still enjoy the vivid memory of the first time that I tasted the pungent garlic pasta on that fateful afternoon in the Santa Ynez Valley—so long ago now. At the time it was a revelation to my senses, and it remains so—Linda and garlic—until death do us part.

Summer Pasta with Garlic, Fresh Tomatoes, Parsley, Basil and Olive Oil

Retro-Style: Michelle's Big Bowl Pasta Salad and A Bad Romance

by Michelle

"You and me could write a bad romance." ~Lady GaGa 

                  

Bob and I during our happier times while on vacation in Cumberland, Maryland circa 1987.

   I am publishing this recipe by special request for my ex-boyfriend, Bob. Who, after we broke up, I thought I would never, ever, ever in a million years speak to again. Ever. Yet, here we are today, many years down the road, connected again through Facebook. I suppose the old adage is true that time heals all wounds. Well, perhaps most, but maybe not all. As for Bob and I, we buried the hatchet many years ago, and happily, not in each other's backs.

In the late 80s, Bob and I, and sometimes our family, and friends, including
our co-ed softball team would camp on the shores of Bartlett Lake in Arizona.

Bob's truck, speed boat and a smattering of friends.
I unfortunately tried to water ski behind that boat, but only once. I lived to tell the tale.

Yours truly in camping mode. I loved that hat, an Indiana Jones-style fedora.
My daughter needed photographic proof to believe my camping stories.

   It was difficult when we broke up, as such things always are, but the difficulty was compounded because my parents, who were still together at the time, absolutely adored my ex and they hoped we'd stay together. Bob has a good sense of humor and was easy to be around, for the most part, if you weren't dating him and didn't mention the word commitment. Otherwise, it was good times. I have happy memories of traveling to Maryland to visit his mom and then sightseeing in our nation's capital. At home, we regularly camped at Barlett Lake near Phoenix (yes, I did camp in my younger years), and we'd fly across smooth water in his speed boat—which he constantly tinkered with in his garage. The boat spent more time in pieces in his garage than on the lake—but, hey—it looked pretty cool.

A rail yard located near Bob's home town of Cumberland, Maryland.

   Imagine this… we even played co-ed softball for a team sponsored by Harvey Wineburger, and we'd go with our team after every game to drink beer and devour hamburgers. We would play pool at our sponsor's dive bar/restaurant, and I mean "dive" in a good way. No frills and lots of fun and it didn't matter much if you spilled some beer on the floor. It was kind of like Cheers, but with hamburgers—everyone knew our names.

   Bob and I visited my sister Linda and her boys in Solvang, California one year for Christmas when she lived in the cute little cottage with a big grassy yard and weathered picket fence. Flowers bordered the entrance leading to the front gate and a fragrant honeysuckle vine grew over the front porch. Linda was married to her high school sweetheart at the time—sadly that relationship didn't last either. Neither did that of my parents. When my parents separated after more than 35 years of marriage, my Dad moved in with Bob for awhile—how is that for weird? Especially since I was newly married at the time.

Christmas 1986 in Solvang with a beautiful breakfast made by Linda and served in her living room.
From left: Papa, my dad, uncle Pat, my Mom, Linda, Nana, Michelle (me) and Bob.

A visit to Surf Beach during Christmas 1986.
From left: Bob, me, dad, mom, Joshua (standing), Jordan, Linda, Juliette and Paul in stroller.

   As of late, I've been delving into a trove of photos both new and old. Some are very old; of my great-great-great grandparents even. I know people who throw their memories away. I can't bring myself to do that, no matter how mad I've been at the time. I kept all the photos that I have of Bob and me to remember the good times. Of when I was young, trying to find my way in the world, determining what I wanted from a partner and from life. It's interesting to look back over twenty-five years and to reflect on how my life has unfolded and to contemplate the results of the choices I've made along the way. I'm glad I kept the photos that trigger the memories of our time together, and that I can look back upon them and him with fondness from this distant vista in time, because there was a time when I would have loved to have thrown an entire bowl of pasta salad in the direction of Bob's head. Now—twenty-something years later—I'm happy to to share the recipe with him, without even a shade of acrimony.

The Thomas Jefferson Memorial in Washington D.C. is modeled after the Pantheon in Rome.

Bob captured this photo of me near the entrance of the Smithsonian.

A bird's eye view of the Lincoln Memorial.

What was I thinking with this clothing ensemble? Linda commented it is the worst outfit ever!

   Old recipes are like old friends, too. My repertoire of recipes, like friends on my Christmas list, can vary over the years. Both recipes and friends can be all the rage one year and off the list the next. I look at the faded recipe printed in a "family heritage" cookbook that I put together to give for Christmas presents in 1991 and think, wow, nobody eats pasta salad anymore. A growing number of people don't eat wheat, or gluten, or carbs in general.
   This pasta salad made it through the low-fat fad years by switching to non-fat or low-fat versions of both dressings. I'm back to eating fat, and limiting carbs, but gluten is mostly out. Fortunately, there is gluten-free pasta widely available to make an easy conversion. The one thing that hasn't changed over the years is the impression the pasta salad left on Bob. Good food can do that—leave a lasting imprint upon the brain, which honestly can be quite vexing, and leads me to think of the Rolling Stone's lyrics, "You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes well you might find, you get what you need."

The Baltimore Harbor on a foggy November day in Maryland.
 At the time, I was pretty proud of myself when I spliced two photos together to create a panorama.

Back in the day, when I had more time, I cut and pasted—literally—myself into this photo.

   When I received the Facebook message from Bob letting me know that he had looked at Salvation Sisters, and subsequently was disappointed that his favorite pasta salad was not among the many recipes we've posted to date, I was immediately drawn back in time—to former kitchens and homes, and of cooking pasta salad for family and friends that no longer gather. And, while pasta salad really is not in vogue, I bet it will come around again, like high-waisted jeans. Wait... my daughter just bought a pair of high-waisted jeans. Maybe it's time for pasta salad to become fashionable again, too—just in time for potluck season.

What's for dinner? Pasta salad and herb-rubbed grilled chicken.

Retro-Style: Michelle's Big Bowl Pasta Salad

The Best Ever Bolognese Sauce

by Linda

  Really good Pasta Bolognese is one of my favorite meals. The sauce does require long hours of cooking to reduce all of the veggies, meat and tomato sauce into a thick and delicious ragù, so I make it when I am going to be home all day. The sauce freezes really well which is the good news. Make the big batch and freeze the leftovers. It is great for entertaining, because your guests will be able to taste that you spent all day making that sauce… they just won’t know which day. I love to serve it on Christmas Eve, because after having worked long hours on one of the busiest days of the year in grocery retail, all that is required to complete a memorable feast is the addition of an antipasto platter, green salad and some garlic bread.

   I adapted this recipe from Anne Burrell who provides one of the few reasons that I ever watch the Food Network anymore. Her cookbook is great.

   I am planning my annual trek to Greenville this month to see my son Jordan. This dish travels well, so I will be taking it along as part of the homemade dishes that I will make in advance to fill up his freezer. I know that all of you who are mothers understand my compulsion to know that my unmarried (take note single ladies!) son has some dishes to enjoy after I am gone that are made with love from Mom.

Ingredients:

olive oil
1 large onion, peeled and chopped
2 carrots, chopped
3 ribs of celery, chopped
5 large cloves of garlic, peeled
sea salt and freshly cracked ground pepper
2 pounds lean ground beef
3 6-oz cans of Muir Glen or 365 tomato paste
3 cups drinkable red wine - if you don't want to drink the wine, don't cook with it
3 bay leaves - fresh or dried
1 fresh thyme bundle
about 1/2 to 1 cup whole milk, if desired
1 pound spaghetti or your favorite gluten-free pasta
Parmigiano-Reggiano for finishing

Procedure:

1. In a food processor, fitted with a metal blade, drop the cloves of garlic through the feed tube to mince. Stop the motor, add the onion, carrots, and celery and purée into a coarse paste. In a large stock pot over medium heat, coat pan with olive oil. Add the puréed veggies to the warm oil and season generously with sea salt. Cook until all the water has evaporated, stirring frequently, and the purée becomes soft and is cooked down with most of the moisture gone, about 15 to 20 minutes. Don't rush this stage, it takes time to properly cook the vegetables and to develop flavor. 

2. Add the ground beef and season again generously with salt. Brown the beef. Don't rush this step. Cook another 20 to 25 minutes. Michelle's Note: If I am making a double recipe, I begin browning the meat in a separate skillet to save time. When I am finished cooking the meat, I deglaze the pan with enough red wine to pick-up all the browned bits. I add this wine to the stock pot with the cooked veggies.

3. Add the tomato paste and stir to combine thoroughly cook until brown about  5 minutes. Add the red wine. Cook until the wine has reduced by half, 5 to 10 minutes.

4. Add milk (if using) and filtered water to the pan until the water is about 1 inch above the meat. Toss in the bay leaves and the bundle of thyme and stir to combine everything. Bring to a boil and reduce to a simmer, stirring occasionally. Over the course of the next several hours, as the water evaporates, you will need to add more water, about 2 to 3 cups at a time. Don't worry about adding water during the cooking process, you can always cook it out, so if you think it needs more water, add more water. This is a game of reducing and adding more water to develop the characteristic deep flavors of Bolognese Sauce. Adding all the water at the beginning would result in a boiled meat sauce rather than developing a rich, thick meaty sauce over time. You will likely need to add more salt. Add some now, and check again towards the end of cooking. Simmer for 3-1/2 to 4 hours.

5. During the last 30 minutes of cooking, bring a large pot of water to a boil over high heat to cook the pasta. Make a habit of always salting your pasta water once it reaches a boil; about 1 to 2 tablespoons will do. The water should be as salty as the ocean. Don't skip this step. Ever. When the water is at a rolling boil add the sea salt (Michelle uses Diamond Kosher Salt), and then pasta, stir frequently. Cook for 1 minute less than it calls for on the package. Reserve 1/2 cup of the pasta cooking water.

6. While the pasta is cooking remove half of the sauce from the pot and reserve.

7. Drain the pasta and add to the pot with the remaining sauce. Stir or toss the pasta to coat with the sauce. Add some of the reserved sauce, if needed, to make it about an even ratio between pasta and sauce. Add the reserved pasta cooking water and cook the pasta and sauce together over a medium heat until the water has reduced. Turn off the heat and give a big sprinkle of Parmigiano and a generous drizzle of the high quality finishing olive oil. Toss or stir vigorously. Divide the pasta and sauce into serving bowls or one big pasta bowl. Top with remaining grated Parmigiano-Reggiano and pass more at the table. Serve immediately.

8. Alternatively, for a baked pasta dish to serve a crowd, cook penne or ziti, as described in step 7. I tend to only cook one pound of pasta at a time, but it is probably okay to boil two pounds if you have a large pot and adequate water.

Chicken Piccata (Traditional and Gluten-Free Versions)

by Michelle

   With the arrival of spring, I have immediately begun to crave anything sweet or savory made with lemon as a key ingredient. Just last week I made my favorite Shrimp Scampi - the best Shrimp Scampi recipe in the world. Trust me on this. My mother will second the motion, and not just because she loves me. She waxed rhaposodic over the scampi for days.

   Next up I'm tweaking my favorite Lemon Cake recipe to produce a gluten-free version as well. I will have both versions posted before Easter. I prefer using slices of Lemon Cake as the foundation for an outstanding berry shortcake. Just ask my husband. He doesn't particularly like sweets, and I have yet to see him wax rhaposodically - about anything - but he will without provocation endorse the merits of Lemon Shortcake. Lemon Cake really is a taste sensation and a recipe that I will happily make through the spring and summer. I seldom make it before Easter or after Labor Day so I suppose for me it is the equivalent of the little white dress of the baking world.

Spaghetti squash is a tasty and healthy alternative to pasta.

   In the meantime, it is high time that I share this Lemon Piccata recipe with you. When my daughter asks what's for dinner and I say, "Chicken Piccata", I know she'll be happy and respond with an enthusiastic, "Yay!" It happens every time. A happy teenager in the house makes me a happy Mom. Maddie has even come around to eating Chicken Piccata over strands of baked spaghetti squash. In fact, everyone in the family prefers the baked spaghetti squash over pasta with this particular entrée. So, I get to eat my protein and have my vegetable at the same time, which is lovely for a mid week meal when I may not feel as energized to produce a vegetable side dish to serve with pasta.

   On a weekend when I'm not squeezed for time (lemon pun... couldn't help myself), I like to prepare one of the following salads as a first course: Rockin' French Salad with French Vinaigrette or Leafy Greens with Joan's Vinaigrette. As the grand finale, in my humble opinion, you can never go wrong serving my family's Lemon Ice Cream. It is the bomb-dot-com, as our friend Toni likes to say.

Chicken Piccata
(Traditional and Gluten-Free Versions)

Linguini with Super Easy Clam Sauce

by Michelle

   I keep canned clams as a staple in my pantry. For some reason it feels as if I'm exposing a dirty little secret. I don't know why. There's no shame in canned clams lounging around with the canned albacore tuna, jarred anchovies and tins of sardines. Yes, I love me some fresh clams, but much to my chagrin, recently dug bivalves are not always available here in the desert. So, canned to the rescue on those nights that I must have Linguini with Clam Sauce. And, no false advertising here. Super Easy is the truth.
   I am pretty sure that this recipe is an adaptation of a Cooking Light recipe. Therefore, it is lower in fat than some clam sauce recipes. You'll be happy as a clam at high tide to discover that there is no sacrifice in flavor. Sorry, I just had to add a little clam humor to the end of this post. Happy New Year to one and all from your friends, the Salvation Sisters!

Linguini with Super Easy Clam Sauce

   In a pinch, spaghetti is also an excellent choice for the sauce. Although Italians do not garnish fish dishes with Regiano Parmigiano, I certainly do. It might be a faux pas, but I find the addition of the cheese quite satisfying.
   Along with the pasta, I like to serve Juliette's Focaccia or Sourdough bread. For a more formal gathering, I'll serve a Salad of Leafy Greens with Joan's Vinaigrette as a first course, or if more casual, passed at the table.

Michelle's Chicken Sausage and Pesto Lasagna

by Michelle

Prepping individual servings for the freezer.

   Earlier this month we celebrated Italian Fest Week at my house. With the assistance of my mom and niece, I prepared both my lasagna and manicotti recipes with the express intention of keeping individual portions stored in the freezer. This time of year, when life seems to hit the fast forward button from Halloween through New Year's Eve, I appreciate having homemade meals at the ready that can be heated directly from the freezer. I also really appreciate that lasagna and manicotti fall under the category of stress free entertaining. 

   The lasagna receives a two-fold flavor boost by substituting chicken sausage for ground beef, and by adding homemade basil pesto to the ricotta filling. I also like letting the meat sauce rest in the refrigerator for a day for the flavors to fully develop.

Michelle's Chicken Sausage and Pesto Lasagna

Michelle's Chicken and Spinach Manicotti

by Michelle

   To my taste, I find most manicotti quite bland. The standard offering is simply ricotta cheese mixed with parmesan, mozzarella, parsley, salt and pepper. I wanted more; to boost the flavor and add more texture. After two decades of various modifications, I have stopped tinkering and have settled on the recipe below. I hope you like it as much as I do.
   When I make this recipe, I make a big batch. If I'm lucky, and often I am, there will be a friend or a family member lending me a hand with stuffing the manicotti shells with the filling. If I find that I am on my own, squeezing the water from wilted spinach, or facing a mountain of filling and fifty shells, I pass the time letting my hands do the busy work while my head is absorbed in listening to an audiobook on my iPod. It's a multi-tasker's dream come true.
  The prepared shells freeze beautifully - no defrosting required - before popping the marinara coated manicotti in the oven. While the manicotti heat to bubbling bliss, all that is left to do is to quickly assemble a salad and slice a crusty baguette. Manicotti may just be the perfect Friday night meal when you opt to stay at home, but you don't feel like cooking. You'll be happy to know that a hearty, delicious, homemade dinner is waiting in the freezer just for you, and yours.

Dragon Noodles

by Michelle

   If you are interested in ethnic cuisines this will be a fun recipe for you to make because the building blocks will take you on an adventure in the kitchen. The key components of the hot, sweet, salty and sour sauce - the infused oils, pickled ginger and ginger syrup - can all be made weeks in advance of the final preparation and will easily last in the refrigerator for months. 

   For added convenience, the dressing for the noodles is best when made a day or two in advance to allow all the flavors to meld. Finally, the sauced noodles can be made the night before or morning of the party to fully absorb the dressing before adding the final garnishes.

   The noodles are an enticing part of an Asian inspired menu or buffet and will complement everything on your plate from pickled shrimp to pork tenderloin to egg rolls. Pile the noodles high in a large shallow bowl or beveled platter alongside bowls of unsalted roasted peanuts and cilantro leaves.

   Leftover noodles are terrific as part of a Thai Salad with barbecued beef or rotisserie chicken with avocado, mango, fresh greens and herbs tossed in a lime and chile vinaigrette, similar to the delicious "plate of inspiration" served at Houston's Restaurant in Phoenix. 

Double-click image to enlarge.

   One year, just after the onset of crab season, Linda and I served our friends the Dragon Noodles as part of an Asian inspired holiday Seafood Fest with Shrimp Cocktails and Baked Spicy Crab Cakes paired with Sweet Chili and Special Mustard Dipping Sauces and marinated cucumbers. Recalling that happy memory, I think it just might be time to make the meal again.

   You can also whip up batches of the sauce for holiday and hostess gifts, packaged in French Working glasses with hand printed labels. With a ribbon, attach printed instructions on how to garnish and serve. We think you and yours will like the noodles, too. Looking forward to your feedback.


Dragon Noodle Sauce is on the left with freshly dressed noodles in the cooking pan.

Dragon Noodles

   For a feast, consider serving the noodles with Salt and Pepper Shrimp or Crab Cakes with Special Mustard Sauce, Oven-Baked Egg Rolls and Quick Cucumber Pickles. My post on Celebrating Chinese New Year explains (in quite some detail proving once again that I am my father's daughter) the homemade and store bought Asian pantry items in the ingredients list. For a fun twist, serve Mai Tais or Pineapple Martinis with the noodles.
   I like to add a fair amount of lemon zest to the noodles as a garnish. Leading up to the event, every time I use a lemon, I zest it first before juicing. Store the peel in a fold of waxed paper and then wrap in aluminum foil for extra protection. The zest can be used directly from the freezer.
   The sauce below makes enough to cover four pounds of noodles. That's a really big party. Of course, you can divide the recipe in half or go ahead and make the full amount with the proactive plan of storing the extra sauce in the refrigerator for future snappy weeknight meals with leftovers at the ready for packable lunches in the following days. Beats a soggy sandwich, that's for sure!

Sauce:
1 cup Ma-La Oil
1 cup Ginger Syrup
3/4 cup ketchup
1/2 cup + 2 Tbsps black soy sauce
1/2 cup + 2 Tbsps unseasoned rice vinegar, preferably Marukan or Mitsukan brands
1/2 cup juice from Pickled Ginger
1/4 cup + 2 Tbsps freshly squeezed lemon juice
1/4 cup Spicy Citrus Chili Oil

1/4 cup cider vinegar

1 Tbsp "goop" from Spicy Citrus Chili Oil
1 Tbsp Thai Kitchen Roasted Chili Sauce
2 teaspoons sea salt

Left: Spicy Citrus Chili Oil, and Right: Ma-La Oil

Noodles:
2 pounds spaghetti
grated zest of 2 scrubbed lemons or more, as needed
3/4 cup thinly sliced green and white scallion rings
1/4 cup black sesame seeds, toasted
grated red radish, for garnish
green and white scallion rings, for garnish
toasted black sesame seeds, for garnish

On the side:
roasted salted peanuts
cilantro leaves

Procedure:
1. Combine all the sauce ingredients, whisking vigorously to blend. Set aside, or refrigerate until ready to use if making a day or two in advance.
2. Cook the noodles to "al dente" in salted, boiling water, according to package directions. Drain the noodles, giving the colander several good shakes. Transfer to large bowl and stir in to the noodles about 2 cups of the sauce. Let sit for 10 minutes so the noodles can absorb the liquid.
3. Taste the noodles. If they have absorbed the sauce and seem dry, add a bit more dressing to moisten and toss again. Add the lemon zest and black sesame seeds. Toss well to mix. Taste and adjust with more dressing and/or lemon zest if needed. The taste should be bright and sparkly. At this point, the noodles may be sealed and refrigerated for up to a day. (If you are working in advance, you might like to wait until serving to add the rest of the garnishes so the vegetables are fresh and crunchy.) For best flavor, bring to room temperature or serve only slightly chilled.
4. To serve, mound the noodles in a bowl, stir in grated carrot and radishes. Decorate the top with additional black sesame seeds and sliced scallions. Tuck in a pronged pasta spoon for easier lifting of helpings. Let guests add peanuts and cilantro to individual servings. 

Fideo - Calabacitas Style and the Alternate Universe of Bisbee

My Traveling Tales by Michelle

   "Goin' down to Bisbee," as people tend to say before departing for the the tiny town, is to anticipate a tumble down the proverbial rabbit rattlesnake hole into an alternate universe where time and reality are both simultaneously extended and retracted. Imagine, if you will, as you drive through Mule Pass Tunnel, the gateway to Bisbee, that you are passing through the darkness and into the light of a fantasy, an alternate mile-high desert setting for retelling the story of Alice in Wonderland.
   Bisbee's a place where anything goes. You can lay low and hide out for awhile. Afterall, hasn't everyone wanted to disappear at least once in their life? If laying low isn't on the agenda, then push beyond societal constraints and get your freak on. Everyone else seems to be doing it and you can too! You might just have your consciousness expanded (its cheaper than meditating in an Ashram in India) or have it diminished over the course of one seemingly endless night (definitely a cheaper alternative than waking up hungover in Las Vegas).

    In the final analysis, Bisbee is a study in constrasts. A bit of an enigma, if you will. The town itself is quaint, a mining town established in 1880 with original buildings standing the test of time - probably more out of habit than of interest. Mostly dilapidated Victorians dot the tiered hillsides with a few excellent restorations interspersed in the mix. On the surface, the scene is antiquated and rich with history. On the other hand, a bar stool philospher at Elmo's might remark that Bisbee is a vivid, acid tripped, stream of consciousness. Change positions and your perspective shifts too as if viewing a cubist painting or a holographic print with a tilt of of the head from left to right like a pendulum.

   Bisbee can and will likely be anything you want it to be. A relaxing three day weekend to bird watch and hunt antiques, or cast yourself as the lead actor in a weekend odessey reminiscent of a Terry Gilliam film. After a weekend in Bisbee you might have a sudden epiphany to move there, like Juliette, or decide it's time to hit the road and flee back to the city, like me.

   
   By the 1950's the mining industry in Bisbee declined, although pit-mining was still underway. You can see for yourself the evidence and ramifications of the industry. Head through town and you can't miss Exhibit A, also known as The Lavender Pit, a permanent abomination exclamation point on the red landscape. Pull right-in and park in the lot. Pehaps you'll even glide to a stop in front of the sign strapped to the chain link fence that reads "SCENIC VIEW". Ironic, much? Perhaps even oxymoronic.  

   The fence snakes around the circumference of the hole to prevent gawkers from accidently falling over the rim to slide down the slippery slope into the welcoming arms of Haides. The view is jaw-dropping all right and will certainly leave viewers incredulous at what havoc can be wrought by humans wielding heavy equipment. I wouldn't proclaim it scenic in the traditional sense. It's a crater, but the Grand Canyon it is not. The Pit is located near the famous Copper Queen Mine. If you've ever wondered about the details of mining, take one of the popular tours led by former miners. Hard hats, miners lamps and slickers are included in the fee.

   
   My view on turquoise is probably more ironic. It's okay, go ahead and roll your eyes... for all my disdain over the residual effects of mining copper in The Lavender Pit, I sure do love one of the by-products: brilliant blue stones streaked with black veins named "Bisbee Blue". The turquoise is a finite resource and the stones are highly sought after by collectors. More than likely, if we meet, you'll see my big ol' turquoise bracelet adorning a wrist. That's also something that we three sisters have in common - our love for turquoise bracelets - that we surely inherited from our Mother.

   For as many times as I've been to Bisbee over the past twenty years, on every visit I always discover something new, even if it has been hiding in plain sight for a century. Last time I was in town, my husband and I drove up Brewery Gulch to Mimosa Market to pick-up a few last minute gorcery items before driving to Juliette's for dinner. My eyes traveled over familiar sites until I registered an anomoly - and it wasn't Joe Klinger's Bark Park or his nearby home that is uniquely his. Instead, it was a well-cared for restored house painted pale yellow, perched on a hill, with the most amazing eye-catching patio. The slatted roof was supported by rust colored Amazon women formed from metal. Stop the car, I commanded while estatically pointing to the structure. I popped out of the car and snapped a few photos for future reference.
   Later that evening, I gushed to Juliette about the scultpures. Of course, living in a small town, Juliette knew exactly what I was referring to. "Ben Dale made the figures. I'm so glad he's working again," she said matter-of-factly as if that should settle the matter. After a quick scan of my brain, Ben Dale came up zeros in my mind. My gray matter produced only the name Jim Dale, the talented narrator of the "Harry Potter" series on audio books. When I gave Juliette a blank expression, she patiently reminded me that Ben was the subject of an e-mail she sent to me (albeit it was quite a few years ago.) Since I keep an archive of correspondence with my sisters, I can share with you an excerpt of Juliette's e-mail that I dug up after returning home:

   "...Out of the blue I thought about Ben Dale a few days ago. "Where is he?" I wondered. I have not seen him for at least a year, maybe more. I've known Ben Dale since I first moved to Bisbee. Or I should say I've "known of" Ben Dale - I didn't meet him right away. I met him after I'd been in town for about six months.    
   We had mutual friends that knew him from art school in Boston, and me from repping their art work. They introduced us, and we hit it off instantly. Ben owns one of my most personal and irreverent pieces of artwork, and I have commissioned him for various projects over the years.

  I can't even tell you what prompted me to wonder about Ben - where he is, and what he's doing. It was just suddenly there. It was just a feeling that something essential had gone missing, and in my internal subconscious inventory of friends I realized it was Ben. For those of you who are not blessed with the knowing of Ben Dale, I will tell you a few things.
   Ben is tall, slender, and has brown eyes that when focused on you give a sense of vulnerability, a sense that he gets the joke before you've told it. You will not have any secrets from Ben. He's an old soul. He is one of the most gifted artists I've ever been blessed to know. His artistic heritage is strewn across Bisbee. The post office bulletin board. The bus stop at City Hall. The gates at Goar Park. The copper angels off of Subway Street, etc.

   
   I once had the most horrible blind date of my life in Bowie, AZ. I walked into a house that had no functioning floors or toilet, and what I noticed was the doors. It was obvious to me that they had been painted by Ben Dale. It was the only redeeming factor of my blind (and shall remain nameless) date - the only thing I remember fondly. My date proved to be an egocentric loser has-been (who was much too old for me), but I have to admit he had great taste in doors. I wish he'd valued indoor plumbing, and solid floors as much as he did his doors, but c'est la vie.
   I digress. I walked into "Your Thrift Shop" this afternoon. Unless I am on my way to work, I cannot drive past the local thrift shop without stopping. It's an addiction worse than cigarettes. This also explains why I am not currently able to walk into my garage. Anyway, when I turned the corner into housewares there he was carefully inspecting an antique toaster. Not the electrical kind. The kind you set on a wood stove, a gas burner, or a camp fire. I did not say anything. I just stood there, and took him in, trying to figure out if he was a figment of my overactive imagination. He stood in the isle quite oblivious to me, being caught up in his inspection of the toaster. Suddenly he paused, stood still for a moment, and then turned to look at me. A slow smile spread across his face and revealed a gleaming gold tooth that was unfamiliar to me. Ben Dale with a pirate aspect - nice!

   
   So there was missing in action Ben Dale. In much the same flesh I'd last seen him in. Still tall and slender. Same soul penetrating eyes. Only the gold tooth was different, and he seemed to be carrying a bit more of the weight of the world on his shoulders.
   We exchanged the usual niceties. How are the kids? Where are you living? What are you doing artistically? We discussed politics briefly. George sucks was the general consensus... neither one of us is happy about the state of world affairs.
   I was quite disappointed to hear that Ben is not doing his artwork. He is currently living in Double Adobe, caring for his family, building a house, and tending to their goats, chickens, ducks, etc. He seemed happy. I couldn't help but feel sad that someone with Ben's genius for art was not using it. He says it doesn't pay, and I've known that to be true. In a bad economy the first thing people can live without is art. It's true. It's still sad.
    I just wanted to say how happy I was to see Ben. Glad that he is happy, and finding peace as a father, husband, and farmer. And I guess I want all of us to wonder when we pass by his legacy of art scattered throughout Bisbee - why someone this talented is not able to sustain a living as an artist? I find it mind numbing that Ben Dale has resorted to being a farmer because being an artist doesn't pay, while boys in the NBA are making millions of dollars. Can someone please explain this to me?"

      Needless to say, I am a fan of Ben Dale, too. His art is simply amazing, and I'm happy he has found his way back to the torch. Sooner or later, the muse appears and the artist must acquiesce to the creative urge! I know this feeling in my own small way and it is impossible to ignore. The world is definitely a more interesting place with Ben Dale's art in it.

    After a morning of baking bread and pizza dough, we spent the afternoon wandering around Bisbee with our daughters visiting our favorite shops and galleries on Main Street (The Horse Hotel Antiques,VaVoom! and Sam+Poe Gallery with a pass through door into PanTerra). Our minds inevitably turned towards dinner. We vascillated between eating in or reserving a table at our favorite local restaurant Cafe Roka. In the final determination, Juliette offered to  make a simple meal to eat al fresco on her 100 year old porch. The challenge, since Juliette chose to accept it, was to rummage through her pantry and refrigerator to whip up a meal as if she were a contenstant on Top Chef who intrepidly confronts the Mother Hubbard's Cupboard challenge head-on.

  
   By the time we arrived, the Fideo was simmering happily on the stove, and we stepped outside anticipating sunset, lingering there to enjoy the declining heat of the summer day with the onset of twilight. We saw Juliette's neighbor park her car across the street. We sponanteously invited her to come wine and dine with us. She joined us a few minutes later as the sky turned to navy and then to black velvet. The Fideo was a hit and we all gobbled up our portions and some went back for seconds. Our chatter and laughter floated on the bouyant summer air. Stars shone brightly, not dimmed by the echo of city lights.

    
   The next morning we checked-out of The Canyon Rose Suites and met Juliette and her girls at The Bisbee Breakfast Club in Lowell, situated a few doors down from the Co-Op and on an outer bank of The Lavender Pit, for a hearty meal before heading to Tucson. On the way out of town we stopped by High Desert Market that is directly across from the Copper Man Statue on Tombstone Canyon Road. I picked up a pound of my favorite coffee, Old Bisbee Roasters Guatemalan Huehuetenago (try to say that three times fast).
   I also bought a bottle of Keeling-Schaefer "Three Sisters Syrah", an outstanding wine that will silence any doubts as to whether great red wines are being produced in Southern Arizona. Follow that bottle with an offering from Dos Cabezas Wineworks and you might just convince yourself to take a tour of the region's wineries.
   In a  few weeks, along with the aforementioned wine and the coffee, you'll also be able to buy Juliette's out-of-this-world breads at both the High Desert Market and the Co-Op. Coincidently, Juliette's bread tastes great with both coffee and wine. Try it you'll like it!
   So much more can be said or not said about Bisbee, but as Juliette would say, that's all I have to say about that... for now!

Fideo Calabacitas Style
   Although we tend to think of fideo as Mexican in origin, according to Wikipedia, it is actually hails from Spain. The word Fideo is Arabic in origin from the Muslim communities of the Iberian Peninsula.
   Calabicitas is a cooked squash dish that typically includes roasted green chiles and tomatoes, corn, garlic, onions and finished with a liberal sprinkling of Mexican cheese. Kraft, Kirkland and other cheese manufacturers offer packaged Mexican Cheese Blends, but they taste bland and more often than not, the cheeses are tossed with flour to prohibit sticking, which also acts to diminish flavor. Instead, buy good quality cheeses and shred by hand - it really doesn't take that long. Or, use the indispensible food processor and a shredding disc to shred the cheeses more quickly. The flavor is noticeably better - we promise!
   Juliette boiled shrimp in Tecate beer with two crushed cloves of garlic and a teaspoon of red chile powder, drained and sprinkled with fresh lime juice. Taking an extra step to brine the shrimp before any method of cooking ensures great texture. The Fideo is also a great way to use leftovers, including meatballs, diced or shredded chicken and cooked, crumbled sausages or sliced chorizo.

7 ounce package Fideo Cortado Fino (Vermicelli)
2 Tbsps oil, divided
6 cups homedmade chicken stock or canned chicken broth
1 15-oz can red enchilada sauce (Las Palmas recommended)
1 large Vidalia onion, chopped
1 4-oz can diced green chiles (or about 4 fresh roasted)
2 ears fresh corn, boiled and cut from the cob
1 15-oz can fire roasted diced tomatoes (or use fresh roasted)
2 Mexican grey squash (or 1 zucchini and 1 yellow crook neck), roasted and chopped
1/2 head garlic, diced
sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
Mexican cheese blend (typically a mix of equal parts Monterey Jack, Cheddar and sometimes Provolone or Mozzerella)
shrimp, chorizo or meatballs, if desired
fresh limes, quartered for garnish

Procedure:
1. Heat 1 tablespoon oil on medium high heat. Add fideo and stir constantly until browned (be careful not to burn!). Add about 4 cups of the chicken stock and the enchilada sauce, and reduce heat to medium. Stir occasionally.
2. In a cast iron pan with remaining oil, caramelize onions over medium heat. Add the garlic and cook for two more minutes. Add to fideo along with the green chilies, corn, squash, and tomatoes.
3. Add more chicken broth as necessary to keep it somewhat liquid. Cook over low heat for about 15 minutes stirring often. Add a cup of the cheese and stir until well blended.

4. Serve in bowls and top with more cheese, and top with with meat or shrimp, if desired. Servings: 6