Category Archives: Food

Aug14

Bargain Beans

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When I returned to the city nearest to my campground, I was glad to find a new bargain grocery store. The year before, I didn’t like any of the grocery stores in town because everything seemed really expensive.

The new store isn’t a scratch and dent store; I don’t think anything is outdated. However, many items are about to reach their expiration dates, so those items are cheap in order to sell them off quickly.

I’ve gotten 8oz packages of (not delicious) vegan “cheese” shreds for 99 cents, four cans of peas for 77 cents, popchips for 59 cents a bag, two packages of flour tortillas for $1, and two boxes of Stove Top stuffing (name brand!) for $1.

beansThe best bargain I found at the store was a stack of cans of organic pinto beans for 27 cents each. What! Hell Yeah! I scooped up nine of the ten cans on the table. (The tenth can was dented in a way I didn’t like, so I left it.)

Even though I’m not a fan of whole pintos over rice or in burritos, I bought the bargain beans anyway. Why? I knew I could easily mash them up and turn them into my own version of refried beans.

Here’s how I did it:

#1 Heat oil in cast iron skillet

#2 If desired, add minced garlic (fresh or dried) and/or minced onions (fresh or dried) to the oil.

#3 While oil is heating, drain and rinse beans. (I learned recently that drained and rinsed beans cause less gas.)

#4 Add beans to oil IMG_6680

#5 Mash beans. (I use the back of my spatula because that’s what I’ve got.)

#6 Beans will probably be quite thick. Add oil and/or hot sauce to thin slightly.

#7 Keep mashing.

#8 Add water to thin beans even more if necessary. (I like mine rather thin.) Keep mashing and stirring until beans are the desired thickness.

IMG_6684Voilà! Refried beans.

You may think this post is all about beans. It’s not. It’s really about creativity.

Back in the day, when I first read The Tightwad Gazette by the Frugal Zealot Amy  Dacyczyn, the most important thing I learned is that creativity is a crucial component of frugality. To be frugal, one can’t just rush out and buy something to meet every need that arises. To meet a need, one should look at what’s on hand or can be acquired inexpensively. One should try to think of a way to meet the need with what one already has or can get without spending much cash. [amazon template=image&asin=0375752250]

The same principle of being creative applies when one finds bargains. One must figure out ways to use what one can acquire inexpensively.

In my situation, I looked at the very inexpensive pintos and thought, What can I do with these beans so I will enjoy eating them? I realized I could mash them and add onion and hot sauce, then eat them in a variety of ways (with eggs and cheese on breakfast burritos, with hash browns and cheese, in bean burritos).

I used creative thinking to turn my bargain beans into deliciousness.

 

 

May5

AZ International Marketplace

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I recently shopped at the AZ International Marketplace on the second day of its grand opening weekend.

First, the particulars.

According to the AZ International Marketplace Facebook page, the store is comprised of

100,000 Square Feet of Groceries and General Merchandise from all over the world…Hundreds of thousand of products can be found in this marketplace.

It’s located at 1920 W Broadway Road in Mesa, Arizona, and is open 9am to 9pm every day.

I went with a friend and we walked down every aisle in the store.

Most of the packaged food seems to be Asian. A lot of the Asian food is highly processed, snacky food.IMG_6021 We saw a lot of crackers, chips, cookies, and candy. In addition to the junk food, we also saw a lot of dry noodles and rice, as well as spices and sauces and oils.

In the middle of the marketplace is a large meat department. If there is a part of a cow or pig you’ve always wanted to cook and eat, you can probably find it in that meat department. My friend is a vegetarian, and I don’t buy and cook raw meat, so we didn’t stay in the meat department long or even look at all the items available. However, I did see cow lips for sale for the first time in my life. There were only a few cow lips left, so maybe they are popular in some dish I don’t know. Next time I have access to pay TV, I hope to see an episode of Bizarre Foods with Andrew Zimmern in which cooking with cow lips is explored.

Just past the large meat department is a large produce department. In addition to many fruits and vegetables I am accustomed to seeing in supermarkets (red peppers, yellow peppers, green peppers, squash, cucumbers, tomatoes), I also saw huge jackfruits, tiny bananas, IMG_6039and bundles of cinnamon sticks which looked like doll-sized bundles of firewood and smelled delicious.

A small part of the store (a back corner really) was dedicated to prepackaged food from Africa. (Reminded me of the time I rode the It’s a Small World ride at Disney World and the entire continent of Africa was represented by three brown children and a pink elephant.) In addition to several brands and varieties of red palm oil, we also saw Mama’s Choice plantain fufu mix, bagsIMG_6016 of cassava starch, and Tropiway brand fufu flour in both cocoyam and plantain flavors.

 

 

 

 

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The marketplace also boasts a rather large section of food from East India. Unfortunately, by the time we made it to those aisles, I was in overload and didn’t get any photos of interesting East Indian packaging. We saw huge bags of spices, prepared vegetarian entrées at the good price of $1.69 per serving (I resisted loading my cart with them), cans of gulab jamun (delicious dough balls soaked in sweet syrup), and jars of ghee. I was most interested in the ghee, which looked a lot like the ghee I recently made: solid and pale yellow as opposed to the translucent liquid I was expecting. Maybe my ghee wasn’t a disaster after all.

We were looking at different bouillon powders when my friend picked up a package and declared it penis in a can.IMG_6027

Ok, obviously, that’s a mushroom. The can is even labeled granulated mushroom bouillon. But I’ll be damned if that doesn’t look like a walking penis. Do people in other countries not see that and think PENIS? Maybe Americans (or maybe it’s just me and my friend) have very immature senses of humor.

IMG_6026One of my favorite packages showed these kids carrying a giant peach. I don’t know what kids in rompers or a giant peach have to do with the dried noodles in the package, but I like the illustration a lot.

One of the most impressive parts of the store (at least to me) was the cooler containing tofu. I didn’t count the varieties, and I (stupidly) didn’t take a photo, but there must have been 15 to 20 kinds of tofu in the cold case. Some of the tofu had been pre-fried, and there were an assortment of brands. It’s the most tofu I’ve seen in the same place at the same time.

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I apologize for this washed out photo. I have problems dealing with my flash. I hate taking photos in artificial light.

Maybe because I’m an anthropologist at heart, I’m fascinated by products that seem completely normal in one culture, while closely resembling torture devices in another. Case in point: the ear pick. American culture says it’s dangerous to stick cotton swabs in the ears. Another culture says it’s ok to shove wooden sticks with scoops on the end into the ears.

In addition to aisle upon aisle of “international” food, at least one-third of the store was dedicated to American (as in U.S.A.) or at least North American food. We saw Eggo waffles and Aunt Jemima. We saw Oreo cookies and canned vegetables. I was surprised the store carries food available at any supermarket in the valley, but I guess they want the place to be a one stop shop.

I was most surprised to see that food from Louisiana is apparently exotic enough to have its own sections. Louisiana food perhaps seems less exotic to me because I grew up in Louisiana. But I was not expecting to see an IMG_6024endcap dedicated to Cafe du Monde coffee and chicory. I was also not expecting to see three sizes (including gallon jugs) of Louisiana brand crawfish, shrimp, and crab boil. Where’s the Zatarain’s? my friend asked. IMG_6035Unfortunately, it looked like Louisiana brand had a monopoly on the Louisiana products. There were all sorts of Louisiana brand products available for purchase.

To round out the food selection, the marketplace sells a variety of housewares (throw blankets, bowls, cooking utensils), cleaning supplies, and electrical appliances (rice cookers, teapots). Shoppers can also buy incense, joss paper (also known as ghost or spirit money), and other paper items to burn as offerings to ancestors.

While I did find some bargains at the AZ International Marketplace (on Huy Fong sriracha Sauce, children’s toothbrushes to fit in my little mouth, and sport sunscreen that’s not supposed to run into my eyes), I certainly did not find everything in the store to be inexpensive. Since I hadn’t been shopping at other international markets, I don’t know how the prices at the AZ International Marketplace compare to similar markets in the valley, or if any of the other international markets in the valley can be considered similar to this one. If I lived in the area, I would probably go back and compare prices on items I’ve been buying at other stores, and I would probably take advantage of the good deals in the produce section. I would also probably do some experimenting with all those varieties of tofu. I would not use this store as a one-stop shop or my go-to market. But walking around it did make for a fun afternoon.

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I took all of the photos in this post.

Jan30

Pancakes!

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One of my favorite things about Quartzsite in the winter is eating free pancakes at La Mesa RV. IMG_4453

La Mesa RV (at the corner of Main and Central [Highway 95] in Quartzsite) is in the business of selling motorhomes and 5th wheels. A marketing ploy the company uses to get people on their Quartzsite lot is a free pancake breakfast six mornings a week (Monday through Saturday) from 8am to 10am.

Breakfast is held in the Silver Buckle Customer Oasis, IMG_4402a large room filled with tables. The building was once a bar (I was told by an old-timer), which explains why there are multiple pairs of (definitely used) cowboy boots hanging from the ceiling as decoration. Folks line up at the counter along the back wall to pick up their breakfast.

On most days, folks receive two large flapjacks on their plate. Sometimes real creamery butter is served on the side, still wrapped in gold foil. Other days a blob of buttery spread (ingredients unknown) is plopped right on top of the pancakes. Plastic cutlery, napkins, and syrup (regular and sugar free) are on the condiment island at the end of the serving line.

Sometimes on Friday, biscuits and gravy are on the menu instead of pancakes. By biscuits, I mean each person receives one biscuit cut in half and covered in white gravy in which tidbits of sausage float. I think this deviation from pancakes is supposed to be a treat, but one biscuit with some flour and water gravy and a few bits of sausage does not fill me up nearly as much as two almost-plate-sized flapjacks.

Coffee is available. It’s a weak coffee, so weak in fact I can have one cup of it and not feel jittery. Cream and sugar are available in small paper packets, and I always manage to leave white dust on my table. Orange and apple juice are sometimes available, and there’s drinking water in a big orange cooler.

The first time one arrives for breakfast, one must go up to the counter made from the front end of a giant motorhome, and fill out a card. The card has blanks for one’s name, mailing address, phone number, and email address. (I’ve never provided my phone number or email address and was not challenged about my omissions.) At the bottom of the card, one is asked about the rig one currently drives. I was honest and wrote in ’92 Chevy G20. After the blanks are filled in, a woman working the counter writes one’s name on a name tag and hands it over. The  name tag lasts all season, and one is required to wear it whenever one wants to eat breakfast. IMG_4469

That’s the extent of the hoops one must jump through to get to the pancakes. No salesperson ever approached me to talk about any possible RV purchase, which is good, since the lowest price I’ve seen on any RV there was $17,000. Most RVs at La Mesa are upwards of $25,000, and some cost as much as $250,000! If I had to prove my ability to purchase the merchandise, I’d never be allowed near the pancakes.

The only sort of marketing involved with breakfast is being exposed to a video loop of La Mesa propaganda broadcast on the televisions scattered throughout the room. The videos include testimonials from satisfied Las Mesa customers, RVing tips (like leaving solid air fresheners throughout a motorhome when not in use so the RV smells fresh the next time it’s entered), and an educational piece detailing the hand signals one should use when helping an RV driver back up. I can honestly say that not once have any of these videos made me consider buying an RV from La Mesa.

Lots of people show up for the free La Mesa breakfast, and most of them are not from the Rubber Tramp Rendezvous. At 44, I was usually one of the youngest people in the room (although as the winter population of Quartzsite expanded, I saw more people who seemed to be the kids and grandkids of the older demographic). One day I caught a quite elderly man looking at me as if I were a teenager!

When I’m in Quartzsite, I don’t go into town for the free breakfast every day. I figure I’m not saving any money if I use gas to drive the seven or so miles round trip for free pancakes. But when I’m going into town anyway, I arrive early so I can be one of the first people in line for breakfast at La Mesa.

La Mesa has locations in Arizona, California, New Mexico, and Florida. IMG_4451(I don’t know if the other locations give out free food.) When I’m driving along and see the sign at one of the other locations or if I see a La Mesa commercial on TV, I shout, Pancakes! I’m not sure that’s the association for which the owners of La Mesa RV were hoping.

I took all the photos in this post.

Jan23

Report on the 2016 Rubber Tramp Rendezvous

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I recently attended the Rubber Tramp Rendezvous (RTR) in Quartzsite, Arizona. If you don’t know the first thing about the RTR, you can find more information at on the Cheap RV Living website. You can also read my posts about my experience at the 2015 RTR.

The 2016 RTR ran January 5-19, and was once again held at Scaddan Wash. Everyone agreed there were more people at the 2016 RTR than ever before, but I haven’t heard an official count of attendees.

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This is what the Scaddan Wash area looks like.

In 2015, I parked very close to the main fire pit/meeting area, but this year I made my home near far end of the road. Being so far back forced me to walk more to attend workshops and visit friends.

The weather was cold and rainy the first few days of the RTR. I drove in the rain to get to Quartzsite, and I enjoyed hearing raindrops on the roof of my van the first couple nights in the desert. Although the low temperatures were cold for Quartzsite, they still beat the lows in most of the U.S. Many folks I know used their Mr. Buddy heaters, but I never even pulled mine out of its tub.

On most days of the gathering, at least one educational seminar was offered. Seminar topics included the following: gold prospecting; work camping; setting up and using solar power; gadgets; lithium batteries; cooking methods; making a dream catcher; traveling to Algadones and Baja, Mexico; safety in the desert; boondocking; nature photography; car dwelling; and receiving mail, health insurance, and residency.

I only went to two seminars this year, the welcome seminar on the first morning and the seminar about living in a car. Most of the seminars were repeats from last year, and I either wasn’t interested in the topic or felt I already got the information I needed from the seminar when I sat through it before. Most mornings I didn’t want to carry my chair all the way to the meeting area and sit in the sun for a couple of hours.

I did attend the two women’s meetings at the RTR. Each meeting had about 30 women in attendance, although it wasn’t all the same women both times; many women only attended one of the meetings. I did not facilitate the women’s meetings this year, which was something of a relief. I won’t be giving a full report of the meetings, as both consisted mostly of introductions. In the second meeting, women shared information in answer to specific questions such as How do I get a job work camping? How do I eliminate bodily wastes while living in my car/van/RV? How do I get electricity in my van? What do folks drive and what kind of gas mileage does that vehicle get?

My favorite RTR activities were again the group meals. As we did last year, everyone who wanted to participate contributed canned or fresh ingredients to be added to chili one week and soup the next.

Once again, the Chef and his crew turned the contributions into two delicious meals. At the chili feed, there were three offerings: vegan chili (which I ate and can say was Yum!), chili that was a little hot, and chili that was a little hotter. Folks also contributed homemade cornbread; crackers; and toppings like cheese, onions, and cilantro.

At the soup dinner, the soups offered included a vegetarian minestrone-type soup, chicken noodle, beef barley, and one with spicy sausage. Crackers were also provided, as well as dessert! I was in line with Lady Nell and Mr. Jay, and they didn’t care for dessert, so they gave me their share of the sweets. I ended up with a no-bake cookie, a chocolate chip cookie, and some sort of chocolate chip/coconut bar, all homemade. Super yum!

The third group meal was a potato bake hosted by the same couple who made it happen last year. The potatoes (180 of them!) were baked in the coals of the main fire pit, and folks contributed just about any topping one could imagine putting on top of a baked potato.

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Cacti and mountains surrounding the RTR 2016.

I was a lot more social in 2016 than I was in 2015. Being social was easier for me this year because I already knew folks. I often have difficulty approaching a stranger and striking up a conversation, but I can usually think if something to say to someone I’ve already met. In addition to reconnecting with people I met last year, I actually made several new friends, at least two of whom I think I will stay in frequent contact.

My personal highpoints of the gathering happened when I met people who told me they read my blog. I have readers!

Mr. Jay was the first person I spoke to at the RTR. When I knocked on the rig to find out if Lady Nell were home, Mr. Jay answered the door. After a few moments of chit chat, he asked kindly, And you are? I said, I’m Blaize. His face broke into a smile and he said, Oh! I read you! It was a moment of great happiness for me.

I took all of the photos in this post.

 

 

Dec3

Pancake Angel

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It had been a long day in the campground and at the parking lot.

I’d been sent to a larger campground after Labor Day weekend, and even with a golf cart to drive around in, it was a lot of ground to cover. By the end of each day, I was tired. It was the end of the day now, and I was ready to cook and eat dinner, then crawl into bed with a book and get some rest, but I still had to do the day’s last check of the campground.

It was only Thursday, so the campground was mostly empty, which was ok with me. The fewer campers I found during my last drive-through, the less work I had to do. Alas, I saw a small motor home parked on site #27, the very last space before I completed my rounds. Ok, I could do this! All I had to do was fill out the camping permit and have them sign, and I was home free.

The couple on site #27 was lovely. They were Canadians, French Canadians, from Quebec. As I walked up to the campsite, I saw the woman was holding a bottle of wine and two glasses. She laughed and told me in her beautiful accent that it was happy hour.

Although I was worn out, we ended up talking for quite a while about Quebec and the upcoming National Forest hunting season and the bear who’d been in the campground the previous week. Our conversation was so pleasant, and it was a joy to spend some time with people who were just plain nice.

After they signed their camping permit, I went to my own campsite where I made myself some dinner. As I ate my beans and rice, I thought about the next morning’s breakfast. I was out of eggs, and I was out of milk, so I was facing another breakfast of just-add-water pancakes. Don’t get me wrong, I love pancakes. I LOVE pancakes, especially when I don’t have to cook them and especially when I don’t have to clean the crusty pancake batter off the bowl. But even I have my pancake limits, and I’d already eaten pancakes two mornings in a row.

Just about that time I saw the nice French-Canadian lady walking my way. She was holding a little bottle, half full of a golden fluid. She approached the picnic table where I was sitting and told me she had something for me. She said in the glass bottle was maple syrup, special maple syrup from the region in Canada where she lived. She said she and her husband had more than they could use and wanted me to have the surplus.

I must have thanked her twenty times. That lovely golden syrup was exactly what I needed to get me excited about the pancakes I would be eating for the next couple of days. And lord, was it delicious! Eating that syrup was like eating golden Canadian sunshine delivered by an angel with a most lovely accent.

Dec1

The Food I Ate (Las Vegas Edition)

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I love to eat, but I hate to cook. So I love to eat in restaurants, but I hate to spend a lot of money. You see my dilemma.

I did eat some really good food in Las Vegas, although I didn’t go to any upscale restaurants. (In my whole life, I haven’t eaten in upscale restaurants more than a few times.)

My first night in town, my hosts, The Poet and her husband the Activist, invited me to join their community dinner. Organizers from the Las Vegas Catholic Worker community shared their delicious meal of spicy black beans and rice with me. (Baked chicken was on the table too, but I stuck with the vegetarian option.) I enjoyed eating a tasty meal with nice people.

The next morning my hosts and I awoke early to help the Catholic Worker group serve breakfast to hungry homeless and poor folks. I wasn’t hungry for toast before we left the house, and I didn’t care to try the breakfast dish (rice and beans with chorizo) being served. After the meal, we returned to my friends’ house; then I went to a credit union where I deposited my last paycheck. From there I stumbled upon the Las Vegas Goodwill Clearance Center and got distracted.

I was supposed to meet The Poet and The Activist at 11:25 so I could ride with them to the Catholic Worker House to help serve (then eat!) lunch. I shopped at the Goodwill Clearance Center until the last possible moment, then was slowed down by the one-way streets in West Las Vegas. By the time I got to my friends’ house, it was 11:15, I was super hungry, and their car wasn’t in the driveway. I was afraid I’d missed them (and lunch!) and texted The Poet in a panic. She texted right back to say they were on the way to pick me up. Sigh of relief!

When we got to the Catholic Worker House, I saw the lunch crew was as efficient as the breakfast crew. It was taco day, and everything was prepped and ready to go. The taco shells were filled with meat at one end of the line. A volunteer would serve the tacos while the person next to him offered beans. Someone else spooned out guacamole. The Activist was next, offering lettuce and tomatoes. I stood to his right. My job was to serve shredded cheese. The young man by my side passed out tortilla chips, and The Poet was at the end of the line dishing out salsa.

According to the Las Vegas Catholic Worker website, every Wednesday is

Hospitality Day, [and they] invite 20 homeless men home for showers, to wash clothes, & to have a great lunch.….

(On the day I was there, a couple of women lined up with the men.)

The serving went fast; then the servers were welcome to make themselves a plate. I made mine taco salad style with corn chips, beans, cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, salsa, and a generous dollop of guacamole. I joined The Poet and The Activist at the umbrella shaded table on the backyard patio. It was a great lunch! As we were relaxing after our meal, one of the cooks brought us freshly baked cookies, and we didn’t even have to wash the dishes!

On the third day of my visit, we were up early again to serve breakfast, this time macaroni and cheese. I served bread alone while The Poet handed out jalapeños. Back at the Catholic Worker house, we helped with dish washing. The Poet rinsed while I gave the pots and pans a quick dip in the sanitizing water. The man doing the washing was quick and thorough, and we were out of there in no time.

Next on the day’s itinerary was the 11am peace vigil in front of the Lloyd George Federal Courthouse at 333 Las Vegas Blvd. We arrived early, so The Activist suggested we grab doughnuts at the O Face doughnut shop a couple of blocks away. Although I just referred to O Face as a doughnut shop, it is more like a doughnut boutique.

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I took this photo of the door to the O Face Doughnut Shop. Can you see my reflection in the glass?

First of all, you don’t pick your doughnuts by looking at racks with rows and rows of doughnuts of each variety. Oh no. The doughnuts here are artfully displayed, in small bunches. Customers see only one sample of each variety.

The doughnuts are lovely to behold. Love-a-lee! Each doughnut is good looking. Each doughnut looks delicious. Each doughnut appears to be begging to be eaten. These factors make choosing a doughnut difficult.

Some doughnuts are rings and easier to eat by hand. These are called “in hand” doughnuts. Others doughnuts have fillings that are made in-house and are easier to eat with utensils. These are called “fork and knife” doughnuts and are more expensive than “in hand” doughnuts.

I ended up picking out a banana-flavored sort of cake doughnut/fritter hybrid with dark chocolate frosting. SO GOOD! I’m not even a huge fan of bananas, but for some reason that doughnut was calling to me; I was not disappointed. The fried doughnut was the perfect degree of greasy. The banana-ness was from real bananas, as far as I could tell, not from some artificial banana flavor, and the dark chocolate frosting was sweet perfection. This was a seriously good doughnut.

My friends got vegan doughnuts. When we all tried bites of each other’s doughnuts, I can’t say I was too excited about theirs. Admittedly, I am not a huge fan of traditional doughnuts. Give me the cake kind, or I’ll usually just pass. The vegan doughnuts were even more dough-y than regular doughnuts, and I thought they tasted quite like bread. However, since I’ve never been vegan, I don’t really know what a good vegan doughnut tastes like. Maybe vegans would really appreciate and enjoy the O Face vegan doughnuts. After all, my friends voiced no complaints.

O Face doughnut shop is small, but does have limited seating. But my friends and I didn’t eat inside. We took our doughnuts outside and ate them standing on the sidewalk right near the door.

The O Face doughnut I scarfed down was probably the best doughnut I’ve had in my entire middle-age life.

After the peace vigil, The Activist and I walked down to the Gold and Silver Pawn Shop, home of The History Channel program Pawn Stars. About an hour later when we met The Poet at The Beat Coffeehouse and Records, where she had been writing while waiting for us, we were ready for lunch.

In thanks for their hospitality, I’d offered to treat The Poet and The Activist to lunch. The Poet immediately suggested an East Indian restaurant they really like called Mount Everest. She said out of the several East Indian restaurants in Las Vegas they’d tried, this was their favorite.

To be fair, I am not an expert on Indian food. But I have eaten at Indian restaurants in San Francisco and New Orleans and Philadelphia and Penang, Malaysia and probably some other places I don’t remember, so I’m not a complete novice either. The food I ate at Mount Everest was the best Indian food I have ever eaten.

We had the lunch buffet, and almost everything I tried was so good. The rice was perfectly cooked, and all of the sauces were hot and delicious. I loved the potato and squash dish, but I thought the samosas were a bit tough. They were barely warm; I think a huge batch had been made for the lunch rush and had maybe been sitting around too long. The naan, delivered promptly to our table, was fresh, hot, and tasty.

All of the employees we encountered were smiling and friendly, and I thoroughly enjoyed eating at Mount Everest. I’ll eat there again, next time I’m in Vegas, if I can spare the cost of the buffet.

On Friday morning, The Activist drove us 45 miles north of town to the Temple of Goddess Spirituality. After we visited to Goddess Temple, we stopped at the Desert National Wildlife Range, where we walked around for a while on well-maintained desert trails. Luckily, it was a cool and overcast day, so walking in the desert was unusually pleasant.

We were all hungry by the time we got back to Vegas, so The Poet suggested we eat breakfast at The Omelet House on Charleston Blvd. We arrived midmorning and were seated immediately.

The first thing I noticed about the place was the weird decor. The dark walls and heavy furniture gave the place a fancy cabin feel, but there were also lots of breakable knick-knacks scattered about. I felt as if I were eating in the living room of some old lady’s cabin/ski lodge. I wondered how often those knick-knacks are cleaned and definitely saw dust on an artificial plant.

The table my friends and I were led to was tucked in a corner. I sat across from The Poet, and The Activist sat to her right. A wooden knick-knack display about two feet tall with three shelves and a drawer stretching across the bottom was hung on the wall to my right. After we placed our orders, we looked closely at the items displayed next to us. They were kitchy, breakable salt and pepper shakers. (Why, oh, why did I not take a photo of this monstrosity?) I was quite intrigued with the drawer and slid it open to inspect its contents. Empty! I decided I would leave little notes for the next curious diner who inspected the drawer. The Poet and I wrote some words on little slips of paper and tucked them away to be found by future guests.

The menu offered many options including omelets and pancakes and sandwiches.

I had the Health Nut omelet (so named, perhaps, because it includes lots of veggies) with spuds and pumpkin bread. The pumpkin bread, delivered before the entrée, was served warm with butter on the side. The omelet was made with three eggs, although a six egg omelet was also an option. The spuds were thinly sliced, deep fried potatoes. They were essentially potato chips prepared in small batches. I was surprised and delighted by them. Everything on my plate was delicious.

That omelet was my last big meal in Vegas. On Saturday morning, I was back on the road and back on a budget, eating cheap burritos at Del Taco and Dairy Queen and longing for my next chance to indulge.

 

Oct25

The Best Temp Job Ever

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I got the best temp job I ever had off of Craigslist. I sent an email, then talked to a lady on the phone. I never went in for an interview. In fact, I think the company I was working for was in North Carolina. I was in Austin, Texas.

My job was to give out food samples at supermarkets. The company was going to send me what I needed. Whatever they didn’t send me, I would pick up at the supermarket before my shift.

It was all rather disorganized. I wasn’t told what to wear until after my first shift. By that point I realized  no one from the supermarket knew I was going to show up, much less expected me to wear any sort of uniform. The folks in North Carolina were certainly not organized enough to check up on my clothing. I wore my sweet cowgirl boots, tights, a short skirt, and whatever cute top I had at the time.

Prior to my first shift, the company shipped a large box to me. The box contained napkins and small plastic cups. Once I got to the store, I checked in with the folks at customer service (who seemed to have no idea that I was scheduled to be there that day), then went off to find the snacks and beverages I was supposed to serve. The snacks were different kinds of mixed nuts. I put the nuts into tiny plastic cups and arranged them on the table the store dug out of the stockroom for me. The beverages were a variety of flavored seltzer waters, fizzy, but not very tasty.

It was fun to offer snacks to folks. Most people were willing to try the nuts. Nuts are healthy, packed with protein, everybody knows that.

Macro Photography of Pile of 3 CookieThe real fun began with the second of my three shifts. The box that arrived at my friends’ house prior to my workday contained not only napkins and plastic cups, but also individually wrapped cookies. There were oatmeal raisin cookies and chocolate chip macadamia nut cookies. Yum!

Once I got to the store, I found the beverage customers would be sampling: a store brand bottled Frappuccino type coffee drink.

I set up my cookies and my coffee/sugar drink and waited for customers to approach. Whenever anyone came by, I asked, Would you like to try…? Many people did want to try, but a surprising number of people did not. I tend to try whatever is being given out, but if someone offers me a (full-sized) cookie, I have to remember to be polite and not yell out, Fuck Yeah! So I was a little startled whenever anyone said no thanks to my offer.

One lady actually told me, No thank you, I’m not hungry. I ask you, what does being hungry have to do with eating a cookie? (Maybe not knowing what being hungry has to do with eating a cookie explains why I am fat.) But come on…the cookies were individually wrapped. Even if she wasn’t hungry for the cookie right then, she could have taken it anyway and eaten it later.

My favorite person was the little old lady, who, when offered a choice of cookies, said she couldn’t make up her mind and asked if she could try both. YES! I was so glad she was bold enough to ask for what she wanted. I happily gave her two cookies.

After the first Saturday of cookie sample distribution, no one at the company asked how many cookies I had left or made any indication that I would have to return the leftovers. YES! I’d just just acquired at least 30 delicious cookies.

At the second (and last) cookie giveaway, I still offered cookies and coffee drink to everyone I saw, but I quit feeling personally offended when the cookies were rejected. Every cookie not accepted was one more for my larder. After my second cookie shift, I had at least 50 leftover cookies stashed in my van.

The company I was working for seemed really disorganized. Not only did they not tell me what to wear until it was too late, but they shipped a box of supplies for a demonstration I never agreed to work. I found out just how disorganized they were when it came time to get paid.

After working the last of my three shifts, I realized that I didn’t know when I was supposed to get paid, so I sent an email to the woman with whom I’d been communicating. She explained that because of when I worked, I’d be paid during the next pay cycle. Well, ok, I had no choice but to accept that.

I must explain that during this time I had no savings and very little income. I was living rent free with friends, visiting food banks as often as I could, and generally living hand to mouth. I needed the money I was owed.

When the time frame for receiving my check came and went, I contacted the woman in North Carolina again. She acted as if my check must have gotten lost in the mail and said she would send out another one. Before I could contact her again about my pay, I received an email that was obviously written to several employees. In the message, the woman I’d been talking to apologized for the pay being late and said she’d been negotiating with the owners of the company to get the checks sent out. That’s when I got mad! The woman lied to me about my check getting lost in the mail. This email made it obvious that no one had gotten paid.

At that point, I was about to leave Texas. I sent the woman an email giving her the address that she should send my paycheck to. I also told her that if my pay weren’t waiting for me in my mailbox by the time I got there, I would be forced to contact the Texas Workforce Commission and let them know that I had worked a job and not been paid. Sure enough, when I got to New Mexico, there was a postal money order waiting for me in the amount owed. I was glad to have it, but had to wonder, what kind of business pays employees with a postal money order? I wonder if the other workers ever got paid…

Handing out free samples was great fun, and I sure did enjoy eating and giving away those leftover cookies.

 

Sep17

Candy

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Mr. Carolina, The Okie, Lil C, and I had made it from Santa Nella, California to Kansas on a wing and a prayer. We had no money, but kind strangers fed us and put gas in the van’s tank. We got on the Kansas Turnpike–a toll road–with no money to pay the toll upon exit. Mr. Carolina told us not to worry.

We pulled into one of the Turnpike’s rest stop/gas station/convenience store/fast food joint service areas where drivers don’t have to exit and pay a toll in order to get their needs met. I immediately started poking around in trash cans, and soon found a gallon Ziplock bag about one-third full of a homemade snack consisting of candy corn, dried cranberries, peanuts, and white chocolate. I brought it back to the boys, and we all started munching on it. It was delicious, but quickly moved into the realm of too rich, too sweet, TOO MUCH! We tossed it into the van.

It was at the next service area that we got our break.

The four of us were lounging on the edge of the sidewalk when a car pulled up with the passenger window rolled down. The driver leaned over and handed Lil C a bill through the open window. After we thanked the driver profusely, he drove off, and we looked at the bill. It was a 20! We had enough money to get an always needed quart of oil for the van and to pay to exit the Turnpike legally.

We made it to Kansas City, Missouri, where Lil C’s mom greeted us with kindness and homemade cookies, and his little sister greeted me in the hallway after my shower with, “Hi! I love Justin Bieber!”

The next day several of Lil C’s friends came over to sample his special Cali weed. The group consisted of several men in their early 20s and one young woman of about the same age. I tried to be friendly to the young woman by telling her I liked her sparkly boots. Before I could add that I’d seen some just like them at Target, she informed me she’d paid $200 for them. My foot just missed sliding into my mouth.

The whole group circled up in Lil C’s mom’s living room, and Lil C packed the bowl of the bong. The fact that he gave me the green hit (the first hit of a freshly packed bowl–a sign of respect among polite pot smokers), was not lost on me. I was glad I’d decided to partake with them. (Sometimes people looked at me real weird when I was the only one in the room not smoking weed.)

When the bowl was smoked (which didn’t take long, considering our large number), I was most amused to find I was not the highest person in the room. Usually, I am the most stoned person in any given room of stoned people, but this time I wasn’t. One guy kept talking about how high he was, saying how good the weed was, all the things I usually say when I’m the highest person in the room.

I began to feel overwhelmed in the crowd, so I went out to the van….where I found the dumpstered bag of homemade candy. I dug in and it was so delicious. I was so pleased with the candy and realized I should share.

That’s when I had the moral dilemma. I knew I should share. The boys and I shared everything the Universe provided us with. Sharing the candy was the right thing to do!

But…should I tell folks that I’d rescued the candy from the trash? I was afraid if I said up front I’d gotten the candy out of the trash, these new folks wouldn’t try it. (And it was so tasty, if they did try it, they were sure to like it.) If I didn’t tell them the candy had been found in the trash, was that a lie of omission? Was it wrong to keep my mouth shut?

I sat in the van for a time with such thoughts tumbling through my head before I decided to take the candy inside and share it (dammit!).

When I went back into the house, several people were still sitting around the living room. I put the bag of candy near some of Lil C’s friends and said it was really good and anyone could have some. Folks started digging in, soon saying how delicious it was. One guy looked at me and asked what all was in there. I started stammering as soon as I tried to answer.

Well, I wasn’t really sure. I hadn’t made it. The Universe had given it to me.

I suspected I was sounding really weird (The Universe had given it to me?), so I just blurted out, I don’t know…I got it out of the trash.

The young woman immediately placed the piece of candy she’d been holding in her hand down on the bag and told the guy next to her that he could have it. She was absolutely done with the dirty, stinky traveling kids’ trash candy.

The guys bucked up and kept eating it. We could tell they were trying to impress us.

The little party broke up soon after that, and all the newcomers slipped away.I told Lil C I was sorry if I had offended his friends. I explained I had only wanted to share. He wasn’t upset with me. Mr. Carolina hugged me and said he was so glad I’d shared the candy and admitted it had come from the trash. I Love You, Blaize, he said.

That was good enough for me.

Jun5

Pie!

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Before we even got to Out of Africa, Nolagirl was talking about getting pie on the way home. She said there was a restaurant between Camp Verde and Phoenix that has really amazing pie. She said she isn’t too enthusiastic about the food at the restaurant, but she really likes the pie.

When we got off I-17 at exit 242, we saw this sign:

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I think this was the first time I ever saw a picture of a slice of pie on a highway department sign.

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This is the sign outside the Rock Springs Cafe.    

(Side note: While i was shooting the photo to the left, I heard a loud metal crunch. A mega big truck was pulling out of a parking space and didn’t turn wide enough. The truck crunched into the car next to it, and as it kept turning, got hooked on the car. The driver of the truck had to back up to unhook from the car. OUCH!)

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Here’s what the front of the cafe looks like. Yippie for pie murals!

We went inside, and there was some confusion about where to sit. There’s a tiny (two or three tables) sitting area behind the pie cases, but since there were four of us, we were told we should see the hostess about sitting in the dining room. The hostess said there would be a ten minute wait for a table, so we spent our waiting time looking at pie.

There was apple pie and peach pie. There was lemon meringue pie and Tennessee lemon pie. There was pecan bourbon pie. There was coconut cream pie and chocolate cream pie and banana cream pie. There were other pies, too numerous for me to remember. (See a full list of Rock Springs Cafe’s pies here: http://www.rockspringscafe.com/pies.html.)

The hostess finally sat us in the bar. I don’t know why we had to wait ten minutes. The place was not crowded, and there were several empty tables in the dining area.

Our waiter was a young guy who looked just like a young guy working in a roadhouse should look. He had on dark jeans, a black t-shirt, and slicked back hair. I should have asked to take a photo of him, but I didn’t want him to think I was some flirting old lady. He took our pie orders, then brought water out to all of us.

Nolagirl ordered the Jack Daniels Pecan. That’s her favorite. Little Phoenix ordered banana cream. The slice was huge, and she ate it all down. Izzy and I both ordered slices of chocolate cream pie. Oh. My. Goodness. It was so good. The cream part was thick and fluffy. The chocolate part was thick and silky. I ate every bite slowly and savored each mouthful.

Here’s a photo of my slice of pie:

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It tasted even better than it looks.

May30

Ice Cream and Conversation

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In the winter of 2012/2013 I was staying with friends in Austin, Texas. I was spending a good portion of time on Craigslist, looking for jobs. After watching a documentary called Craigslist Joe, I started checking the “strictly platonic” listings.

I came across an ad from a guy wanting to have drinks with a woman after work. I responded to his ad. He alcoholic beverages, bar, beverageresponded to my response. We decided to meet after work (meaning after his work). I picked a bar close to where I was staying so I could walk and not be concerned with driving after drinking or getting into a car with a stranger. I put on cute clothes and fluffed up my hair and met him at the bar.

I had a beer. I don’t remember what he had–a beer or a cocktail. We ordered an appetizer sampler platter. He was pleasant, a businessman of some kind dressed for casual Friday. We chatted. He wasn’t someone I would have spent time with normally, but we were getting along well.

Then he mentioned his wife. I must have looked at him strangely. I didn’t realize I was having Friday afternoon drinks with some woman’s husband.

Then he clarified. He was talking about his late wife. He was a widower with two small boys. He loved his wife; I could tell. That’s probably why he posted his ad under “strictly platonic.” He probably wasn’t ready to get involved with anyone or even have a one night stand. He was probably tired of hanging out with the guys in the office and just wanted to have a drink with a nice woman.

We never saw each other again. We talked about seeing each other on another Friday afternoon, but we never did.

However, his ad gave me an idea. Would strangers buy ice cream for me in exchange for my company?

I wrote the following ad and posted it in the “strictly platonic” section:

Brown Cone With White Sprinkled IcingIce Cream and Conversation

I’m a mostly broke traveling lady with a young spirit who likes meeting new people, laughing a lot, and having fun. Why don’t we meet at Amy’s Ice Cream? I’ll wear something cute and you can buy me an ice cream cone. We’ll talk about whatever is important to you, or if you’re the shy type, I’ll regale you with stories from the road. We’ll depart new friends with a fun Craigslist story to tell our old friends.

I’m not looking for sex or a romantic relationship. I’m just looking to spend a fun hour or so with a nice person who wants to buy me ice cream (although I might be open to lunch or dinner too). I don’t care what you look like or how old you are, as long as you are NICE. My life if too short to hang out with jerks!

I’m only in town for three weeks, so this offer is limited.

I started receiving responses almost immediately.

The first guy I was supposed to meet stood me up. Straight up stood me up. No call. No email. No apology. It was not a nice game he was playing.

Most guys did not stand me up, although I did not meet every man who sent me an email. Some behaved inappropriately and found themselves cut from the ice cream list. Some just couldn’t sync their schedules with mine.  (I did have a life–and obligations–outside of eating ice cream with strangers.)

A couple of fellows took me out for meal. An older Latino gentleman treated me at one of those upper-scale burger joints. He seemed so lonely and somewhat frail. Another fellow took me to breakfast at Kirby Lane. He and I hung out a couple times after our initial meeting and are still in-touch through email.

Several of the guys were from out of town, visiting Austin for business. I guess they wanted to get out of their hotel rooms and do something other than go to a bar or eat dinner alone. I didn’t have much in common with most of them, but I was pleasant, and they were pleasant, and the ice cream was always delicious.

One of the guys visiting Austin was from San Francisco. He was Asian and seemed like a grown-up surfer with long hair and a laid-back attitude. He told me all about Burning Man and encouraged me to get a reduced price ticket to attend. (I looked into it, and the process to get such a ticket wasn’t as easy as he’d made it seem.)

When I told the Lady of the House about putting up an ad to meet people who bought me ice cream, she said it was one of the saddest things she’d ever heard. (I’ll admit, that stung a little.) She thinks it’s sad that there are people so lonely they’ll shell out dollars to talk to a stranger.

But I thought the whole situation was fun and kind of sweet. It wasn’t just about the free treats for me. I enjoyed meeting people who seemed very different from me and trying to find common ground. I enjoyed hearing about other people’s lives and learning what they were passionate about.

And the ice cream was always delicious.

Images courtesy of https://www.pexels.com/photo/alcoholic-beverages-bar-beverage-cocktail-613037/ and https://www.pexels.com/photo/candy-sugar-party-colorful-108370/.