Santa Fe Farmers' Market

This morning we walked to the Santa Fe Farmers' Market under cool cobalt skies lit by the morning sun, navigating our unsure path between elbow-nudging  shoppers glued to their cell phones and tiny women with big Indian earrings scooping up armloads of bagged organic mesclun greens, radishes, bok choy, and glistening spring onions like they were going out of style.

There were plenty of cherries, some beautiful twig furniture, and a kilted soloist playing bagpipes [a woman in a straw gardening hat held her cell phone aloft shouting to her connection, Can you hear it?].

We ignored the seductive displays of freshly baked herbed foccacia, brown sugar-cinnamon smothered muffins, country-style oat breads, and white chocolate chip cookies the size of dessert plates [it's only at times like these I chafe against the limits of living gluten-free] and admired instead the baby goats for sale, some impressive pots of sweet basil, one shopping couple's matching waist-long dreads, and the dexterity of a ten year old girl playing country fiddle.

There were giggling women in orange yoga-wear, and pale white turbaned Sikh's eating bread and homemade jam as they bought organic garlic and bunches of squeaky spinach. The breeze smelled like mint from Mexican baskets brimming with handmade soap, and I overheard a bearded cyclist say, If I don't get a girlfriend by the end of the year, I'm marrying the first woman I date in January.
 All this played out to the deft ranchero stylings of a young Mariachi band from the local high school.

We walked back to the casita empty handed, silent, me, mildly overwhelmed by the jostling crowds and ruminating about the intricate diversity of Santa Fe, and the absorbing book I'd just read about the sixties by Bob Dylan, Chronicles: Volume One, hyper aware of my introverted nature.

Santa Fe Style

Walking after dinner is a pleasure here in Santa Fe. The light is magic. The adobe walls throb with the heat of the day [you cannot resist raising your palms to it]. Solar power.

In less than two weeks we'll be moving north. Out of the city. Into the country. A place - once a pueblo- called Abiquiu. A tiny village. We'll have llamas and horses for neighbors. And two sour cherry trees and an apple tree to frame our view of the distant bluish hills beyond the Chama River. I'm itching to be there now. To breathe the sense of peace I feel when I turn down the county road and drive along the bosque, green with old cottonwoods.

We've picked out a carved Mexican bed two roperos (there are no closets!), and a couple of tables - a kitchen table carved from New Mexican juniper, and a beat up old wooden table with worn blue paint, perfect for a desk Two generous leather chairs. Some pottery made by local hands. A few mismatched dishes in violet, deep red, green and turquoise. Mexican glasses in various shades of green, blue and teal. 

I still can't decide on a KitchenAid color [or if I'll even need a standing mixer here at high altitude - baking here will prove a double challenge - gluten-free + high altitude = potential for baking disasters].

Any tips on baking gluten-free in the high desert are welcome.

Easy Guacamole Recipe with Lime

In three and a half weeks we’ll be in our new home. In the meantime, we are as patient as humanly possible, making do in our tiny rental kitchen, and adjusting to living at a higher altitude. We're indulging in freshly mashed guacamole laced with lots of lime and garlic.

We're making almost instant pizzas with Kinnickinnick gluten-free crusts [Dear Reader, they’re not bad- drizzled with extra virgin olive oil and pre-baked with copious amounts of minced fresh garlic, then topped and baked again with sliced tender Roma tomatoes, balsamic-sautéed yellow pepper slices, and a creamy organic mozzarella- but then, what isn't?].

We’ve been slinking into art openings with the calm detachment of non-featured artists and enjoying the mixed eclectic bag known as the Santa Fe art scene– wondering how, when and where we’ll fit in. If at all.

And of course, I am dreaming of my new cocina. And rustling up platters of green chile enchiladas and Thai peanut stir-fries. The kitchen sports copper counter tops and birch latilla doors. There are hand painted accent tiles embedded in the thick adobe walls. Classic New Mexican style.

I am sipping a peachy Riesling as I write and contemplating just what color my new Kitchen Aid mixer should be (having sold my old custard yellow beast at our estate sale back on the Cape). I’m leaning to cobalt blue today; as the hand painted accent tiles feature a blue bird-like design that reminds me of why I love this high desert country, its deep and penetrating miles of skies, and air that sparkles with the hair-raising urge toward flight into unknown territory.

*Note- this entry has been edited since the house deal fell through.

Easy Guacamole Recipe with Lime

This guac is as easy as uno, dos, tres. Simple. No onions. Clean and fresh tasting. And laced with plenty of lime.

3 ripe avocados, peeled and pitted

3-4 garlic cloves, crushed, chopped

10 sweet grape tomatoes, quartered

Juice from 1 large juicy lime, more limes for garnish, if desired

Finely chopped fresh cilantro, if desired

Using a potato masher (or if you're lucky to have a mortar and pestle, grind guacamole the traditional way), smash the avocados and the garlic in a bowl.

Add the lime juice, and mix until well blended. Taste for seasoning adjustments. Stir in the tomatoes; reserve a few for garnish on the top.

Best served fresh.

Serve with organic blue and yellow corn tortilla chips.

This easy guac is mucho tasty as a condiment to quesadillas, enchiladas, omelettes and frittatas, and other southwestern and Mexican-inspired dishes.

Serves 4-6.

Need a fancier guacamole with tomatillos? Try Joey's Kicked Up Rockin' Guac recipe.

My First Post from New Mexico

{photo removed when the deal fell through}

I wish I could say I've missed my computer but the truth is I've been luxuriating in the real world, drinking in the color, skies and sunlit warmth of Northern New Mexico, and tossing together simple rustic meals that I pause at [briefly!] and wistfully murmur, I should blog this; but then I sigh, and dig in with my rented fork and sip a soft Pinot Noir [half the price of what I paid for it back east] and listen to the birds in the wisteria laden courtyard outside the rented kitchen window and if I miss anything at all, I miss you all, and wish you were here with me in real time conversation [you know, that way of communicating where eyes meet eyes and smiles can be felt and laughter fills your chest with a sudden ache of sheer and simple bliss]. I don't miss my computer in the least [though I'll have to buckle down and get one once we move in to our new home].

We found a house - and not just a house - but a place to live in and paint in and cook in and wake every day in and sip coffee looking at the mountains from the kitchen sink in. I'll post more about it as time allows [and I steal time at Steve's laptop]. Pictures, too. Promise. Here's a sneak peek - we move in late June...and here's a hint - it's not in Santa Fe, but north of it.

adobe New Mexico moving

Imagining the New

 Roasted vegetables on brown rice pasta.

The house is looking bare now but for boxes stacked in corners [scribbled with colored markers: art books, cook books, fiction, Jungian]. The movers will be here May 1st. We're moving only books, paintings, music, photos, and the boys' artwork/school projects.

The next big thing is the estate sale. I’ve been piling all the odds and ends and books for sale in the downstairs studio. Clothes gathering in the spare closet wait for strange shoulders and hips - somber winter coats and velvet skirts and black designer dresses I will never wear again [not that I wear many dresses – I live in jeans; two dresses still sported TJ Maxx price tags from the fall of 2002.] We’re selling every stick of furniture.

The more I shed the more I want to shed.

Food has been simple, pure comfort food. Last night was Tinkyada brown rice pasta tossed in butter and olive oil and grated Parmesan, then smothered with balsamic roasted vegetables spiked with garlic and capers and charred just enough, so tender and sweet they melted on the tongue. The Pinot slid down easily. We held hands and conjured New Mexico and future margaritas. Kivas and nichos. Vigas and coyote fences. We imagined where we might be. What kind of space? A streamlined loft? A small casita? We are open to everything.

Three weeks to go.

Blue Chip Frittata

The easiest way to make eggs tasty and elegant- with blue corn chips.

Blue Chip Frittata Recipe

I had a frustrating day in the studio. We're in the thick of our house sale/moving process. Leftover blue corn chips from Friday's nachos were calling. So I thought I'd whip up something fun for a quick and easy bite to eat.

What you'll need:

Organic Blue or Gold Corn Chips- enough for one layer in an ovenproof omelette pan

A few organic grape or cherry tomatoes, halved

A spoonful of chopped roasted red peppers

2-3 oz. crumbled feta or goat cheese (or vegan cheese)

4 large organic free-range eggs

1/3 Greek style yogurt

Fresh chopped basil, parsley or cilantro

Sea salt and fresh ground pepper

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F.

Lightly oil an oven proof 8-inch omelet pan.

Layer the blue corn chips into the bottom of the prepared pan. Top the chips with tomatoes and roasted red peppers. Sprinkle with crumbled feta or goat cheese.

Whisk the eggs with the yogurt and chopped herbs till fluffy and pour the mixture all over the chips. Season with sea salt and fresh pepper.

Bake in a hot oven for about 20 to 25 minutes or until the eggs are set and the frittata is golden.

How easy is that?

Serves 2.

Make this dairy-free with vegan "cheese" and plain unsweetened non-dairy yogurt.

Printer-friendly recipe.

Spaghetti Squash a la Susan

The best thing about food blogging? Sharing recipes and seeing how cooks and food bloggers interpret, tweak and improve upon your recipe. My talented friend Susan at Fatfree Vegan Kitchen has just posted her version of my Santa Fe Spaghetti Squash Casserole, and darlings, it's not to be missed! It's gorgeous and inspired.

Moving Update::

Craziness ensues here. The oil tank is being drained, dismantled and replaced [with walls coming down and going back up]. Strange sweaty men are crawling around the attic and snooping in the cellar netherlands. Running hot water in the bath tubs. Leaving blackened finger prints on the ceiling. Do you imagine I'll be glad when this process is over?

What does this piece of technology cost, you ask? Darling, you don't want to know. You'll be thinking about all the wine, great meals and kitchen tools this could have bought...not to mention, air fare to Italy. Well, at least Napa Valley. Or Hawaii.

Bits & Pieces::

We're having an estate sale April 28th.
Closing May 4th.
Flying to Albuquerque May 4th.

What have we been eating?

Lots of Brown Rice & Roasted Vegetables, Balsamic Roasted Veggie Smothered Baked Potatoes, Spinach & Cheddar Quesadillas. Easy. Fast. Too tired to cook food.

I hope to post again soon. Until then, be well and eat well, and enjoy the first [longer] days of spring!

gluten free recipes vegetarian vegan roasted vegetables brown rice