The (fishy) fruits of our labor.

Sam and I went home to Colorado for the 4th of July. Among the many fabulous events of the long weekend - barhopping downtown, dinner at the back patio, a fiesta party with old family friends, swimming in the spring fed pool, patriotic music on a picnic blanket - we also took our first successful fishing excursion as a family. And we caught fish. Lots of fish.

Which we then ate.

We had fish prepared three ways: with lemon and herbs, cooked on blanked cedar, and stuffed with bacon pieces. While they were all delicious, stuffed with bacon was the best! What is it about bacon that makes things taste so good. We ate all ten fish sitting together on the patio, enjoying the cool Colorado summer nights. It was so good, and it almost seemed unfair because it was so easy to catch those darn fish.

It was easy because we cheated a little bit, and we went to a stocked trout pond near Mt. Evans to do our fishing. You see, my parents were feeling upset that they had never taken us fishing. They kept saying "One of our great regrets is that we never took you girls to catch fish." Honestly, if not catching fish with your daughters is one of your only regrets, I think you are living a pretty great life. But who wants to live with any regret? So we went fishing and it was fun.

The scenery was lovely, and the place rented fishing poles, stocked bait, and basically guaranteed as many fish as you could catch. Not more than 90 seconds after the first cast, we were already reeling in the fish. They even gutted and cleaned the fish for you when you were finished (unless you're Blake, in which case you gut and clean your own fish).

I am not going to lie, there was a bit of guilt involved in catching the fish. It is sad to pull a lovely living thing out of its habitat and let it suffocate at your own hands. And pulling that hook out of the throat was a bit gross and a lot painful on my sense of kindness. But eating that fish, and feeling that sense of satisfaction for having caught my dinner, quickly erased the gross parts of fishing. Plus, it's good to wipe a regret off the list.

Anne casts her line.

Blake shows off is catch.

Removing the hook.

Kate's trouble casting.

Three cheers for fishing success - thanks Ellen and Dad.

A true father daughter moment as I learn how to hook my fish on the line.

Mom and Ellen scoop one out of the water.

Fishy kisses Annie.

Blake guts his own fish.

Sam displays the trophies.

The Rawley crew after a successful trout fishing adventure.

Marfa in a Dreamy Diana haze.

Did I mention that in Marfa we had not only a vintage trailer, but a claw foot bathtub under the big blue sky? It's true. Did I take a bath in it? You better believe that's true too. And did I perhaps put on some bright red lipstick specifically for the bath. Damn straight, that's true as well. Because when in Marfa, we are all inspired. And I find a glamorous bath inspiring.

I also took a whole series of photos that morning to showcase the dreamy, other-worldly haze of Marfa's vintage charm using my dreamy, other-worldly photography lens. For Christmas, Sam gave me a plastic Diana lens for our Cannon digital SLR. The box describes it as the "dreamy Diana lens" because it takes images with such a soft focus and ethereal light. And you will agree that these images make Marfa glow like a glamor shot in the dessert.

Oh, I miss it already.

Marfa Part II: El Cosmico.

Another thing that made Marfa amazing... the accommodations. We stayed in a little place best be described as a boutique campsite. A place known as El Cosmico. Keeping in line with the Marfa theme, it was minimalist yet vintage, comfortable but not too flashy, and it just reeked of one-of-a-kind charm. In case you can't tell from the photo, the place is made up of suites of vintage travel trailers from the 1950s and 60s! Eek. Gasp. Swoon.

And not only was the place made up of vintage trailers, but it was decorated with a stark and restrained elegance that kept the place from being kitschy. Instead, the styling made if feel modern. There were no TVs, but instead little red radios tuned to Marfa public radio. The trailer featured golden wood from floor to curved ceiling, with nary a decoration to compete with the architecture. There was just a framed print of a Hindu god, a couple of wicker hanging lamps, a few offerenda candles, and a orange retro fan. Outside, our trailer had an open air claw foot bathtub and a rope chair that looked like sculpture. Inside, a tea kettle for brewing morning coffee dotted the two-burner store, and a tiny hotel-sized Dr. Bronners soap sat by the sink for the washing. It. was. HEAVEN.

The landscape is flat and dry, and perfect for lounging outdoors. It's so much less sweaty than San Antonio. And that chair looked like a piece of art.

The trailer had a living space with a "sofa", a dining table and stool, a cozy little kitchen with stove, fridge and sink, a toilet, and a bedroom. there was lots of storage and we moved right in to keep the place neat and pretty and home-like.

Our patio featured an old claw foot bathtub, surrounded on three sides by green canvas walls. It ran hot water for a bath under the clouds. The whole thing felt a bit obscene, as there was a definite chance of the neighbors spotting you as they walked to their own trailer, but the lack of modesty was somehow a bit appropriate in the wilds of Marfa.

To prepare ourselves for trailer sleep, Anne and I sat on our patio and drank some beers under the stars before bed, with Marfa public radio playing quietly in the background. They played Cher and old country and some new indie stuff and it was amazing. I slept in the bedroom and Anne choose to sleep on the sofa, so I had this little space all to myself. It looked so pretty and peaceful before I hit the hay. It turns out the windy Marfa evenings make a trailer rattle like the dickens, so I recommend earplugs next time, but it sure has ambiance even if it was noisy.

The second night at El Cosmico, our trailer was booked, so we moved in to a yurt in a sunny, grassy field. The yurt was charming and comfortable, with a raised wooden floor decorated in a cowhide rug, and a mattress with woolen blankets and a heating pad for the chilly night. A punched tin lantern hung from the ceiling. At night it lit up a pattern across the dome that made the whole round room glow like a Christmas ornament. There was an open roofed shower, toilet, and sink close by, plus a shared kitchen near the hammock grove for meals (not that we cooked). Really, it was glamorous camping, highly recommended for those of you that don't "camp" but want a taste of outdoor sleeping.

And did I mention the hammock grove? Nothing beats a mid-afternoon nap in some hammocks in the warm shade of Marfa, under a big blue sky.

Marfa Part I: The Place.

Last weekend my sister Anne flew into town, and we hopped in the car and drove 6 1/2 hours out to nowhereland West Texas, to a very special place called Marfa. Marfa is located far, far away from everything. It sits more than an hour off of any major highway, and hours and hours away from any significant city. The city population is somewhere around 2,000, which is smaller than many high schools!

Marfa exists today as sort of a modern artists colony, pioneered by renowned minimalist artist Donald Judd. In 1971, Judd moved to Marfa from New York City and started to permanently install his art. Eventually Judd acquired decommissioned Fort D.A. Russell, and began transforming the fort's buildings into art spaces. Judd's vision was to house large collections of individual artists' work on permanent display, as a sort of anti-museum. Today, the legacy of his work is a big part of the town. The Chinati Foundation and Judd Foundation work to maintain Judd's legacy, and they do it very well. We took the Chinati two-hour tour and saw several amazing art installations. Plus, signs of the art and respect for art dot the entire place.

Marfa felt like an amazing place for so many reasons, the most important of which is that I was on a sister-only trip with my friend and sibling Anne. But, Marfa is an amazing place because it thrives as an active and engaged community in a place that should be, by all logic, desolate and sad. There is an interesting aesthetic that comes from combining a stark West Texas landscape with a minimalist art movement, and combining an old sheep ranching community with a bunch of hipster infused residents. Doesn't sound like it would work, but it does. And it somehow makes it really magical. And perhaps most , I think the entire town has some secret pack to only use Mrs. Meyers hand soaps in their bathrooms. Seriously, every place was stocked with geranium, basil, lemon verbena, and lavender hand soap.

We spent only about 48 hours in the town, but did our best to pack in all the sites and culture we could.
We caught a stunning sunset on our way to dinner the first night that caused us to drive an extra few minutes out of town and park along the deserted highway to take in the colors and light.

We took a walk down their quiet main street, a combo of small town Art Deco architecture and vintage Texas town square style- some restored and some crumbling and abandon - with hardly any cars or people to obscure the view.

We ate dinner at a charming cafe, but a friendly, modern, minimalist, gourmet cafe. I had cauliflower with capers and tarragon, we ate lentil fritters in coconut chutney, and we had shared chicken and waffles then a piece of ginger root cake for dessert.

We took a two-hour tour of the Chinati Foundation, including the famous metal box sculptures installed in the old artillery sheds. The light against the angles of the art against the dessert plains background was beautiful. It made Anne want to sing and dance around the room. Judd believed that the prevailing model of a museum, where art is shown for short periods of time, does not allow the viewer an understanding of the artist or their work as they intended. Therefore his installations are permanent.

We also saw a light installation by Dan Flavin built out over the course of six renovated barrack buildings, made up of angled neon lights meant to be viewed from many vantages. We had to leave the building and enter from another side to get the full image of the art. Anne loved them.

After our Chinati Foundation tour we stopped at Marfa's sole food truck and had pulled pork tacos and a falafel burrito, sitting in the shade by the train tracks at the old railroad stop. I understand they used to load wool and livestock onto the cars in this space. Even the soda cans are vintage and artsy to fit in.

The day we left we rented vintage cruiser bikes, rode to breakfast, rode to a tiny farmers marker near the railroad track, and then road along the almost silent highway past Judd's cerement block sculptures at the Chinati Foundation. The landscape, the atmosphere, and the company made the place feel special.

Bean dip, or how to make people think you're a genius.

I have been stupid busy these past few months. I started a new job, a much more demanding job than my last, and it is keeping me working longer hours and then sleeping in my free time. I'm exhausted. There's not been a lot of cooking, not a lot of sewing, not ever a lot of keeping up with other blogger's cooking and sewing. So now more than ever, I think it is the right time to share a fast and dirty secret. It's time to share a culinary masterpiece so delicious yet so simple it feels like you are swindling your diners. The secret... bean dip.

If you want to make friends quickly, be very popular, and also have people think you are a culinary genius, serve them bean dip. Seriously. The masses, they love it. They fawn over it. They gobble it up with looks of admiration in their eyes. They will even ask you how you made it, lingering a bit in the question as though worrying it might be too hard for them to reproduce at home. And when they ask, my answer is always the same:

"Open a can of refried beans. Mix with a bunch of salsa and a handful of shredded cheese. Add another handful of cheese to the top. Microwave until molten hot. Serve with chips, preferably the generic brand. They are saltier."

Yep, that's it. My highly coveted bean dip is that easy. That accessible. And it's about as far from culinary masterpiece as fast food is. And yet, every time I whip up a batch, I swear folks think I am a genius.

Plus, on those long work days when you are exhausted (like I am every day), or for those times when you just didn't get to the store for the prosciutto and figs appetizer ingredients like you meant to, this is a fabulous go-to. It hits the spot every time.

Earth Day the organic way.

A nice guy named Craig emailed me on behalf of my FAVORITE grocery store - Central Market - and asked if I would like to review some of their Central Market brand organic products on the blog. Of course I said yes. Actually, I say "Yes! Please! Pretty please!" After all, I am already a fan of the store and the brand. And what wannabe foodie doesn't desire an opportunity to try new flavors and product and give her opinion?

A few weeks ago, my package arrived, chocked full of delicious things, including:
Central Market Organics Agave
Central Market Organics Coffee
Central Market Organics Tea
Central Market Organics Peanut Butter Dots Cereal
Central Market Organics Oatmeal
Central Market Organics Vanilla Almond Milk
Central Market Organics Rice Vanilla Milk
Central Market Organics Almond Preserves

The first thing I opened was the Peanut Butter Dots Cereal and the Vanilla Almond Milk - a delicious combo. I must admit that the cereal tastes incredibly similar to the name-brand, non-organic version of sugar cereal found on most shelves. Except of course it was organic. So, if your organic aspiration is to sub out what you like in the regular non-Michael Pollen aisles of the grocery store with something a little more earth friendly, this is your bet. The almond milk was tasty. I myself am a dairy girl - love me a tall glass of skim milk a day - so almond milk is not something I indulge in frequently. This version was light, appropriately sweet, and good with the cereal. I myself prefer the high protein, low sugar attributes of organic milk over the nutritional and flavor aspects of almond or rice milk, but if you are looking for a substitute this is a good choice.

I love toast, and both the agave and the Apricot Preserves suited bread well. If you are not familiar with agave nectar, it is produces from the agave plant, which looks much like an aloe plant and comes from Mexico and South Africa. Agave nectar has a much lower glycemic index and glycemic load than table sugar, which basically means it is a better sweetener option for those limiting sugar consumption. Fun fact: gave sap can be fermented, and by distillation it becomes a spirit called mezcal , the most widely know version being tequila. but this nectar is far from tequila, and closer to honey. Very sweet and fluid, it coated a toast snack nicely in moderation (agave nectar is about one and a half times sweeter than sugar).

Both the coffee and tea in the basket are tasty and meet my standards for high quality beverages. Nothing novel to report, but I do feel good knowing both my coffee and tea were grown organically. The tea is nice because it comes in a fabric pouch in a pyramid shape, rather than the standard "pillow" shaped tea bag.

Fair disclosure, I haven't tried the oatmeal yet because I have some Bob's Red Milled Oats open in the pantry already. I just can't bear to have two packages open at the same time, but I am swearing an oatmeal-only breakfast diet this summer so it won't be long until I get there. By the tastes of things, I am in for a pleasant bowl of oats when I get to it.

Overall I am a big fan of the Central Markets Organics brand. I like the packaging. It's clean, tidy, and shows the food accurately. Sometimes organic packaging can be the worst - it's either too hippy-dippy (making me think the food will taste like dirt), or too frou frou (making organic seem pretentious and snobby). This hits the spot and is easy to find on grocery shelves.

I can't comment on pricing, as the gift basket was a gift to me, but in general I find the Central Market brand organic products I purchase on my regular shopping trips to be fairly priced. I usually buy milk, olive oil, butter, crackers, microwave popcorn, canned beans, canned tomatoes, and other pantry staples in the brand. Pricing is usually a bit more than non-organic, but more affordable that other organic brands.

I have head debates back and forth on the value of organics. In fact, Penn and Teller even did a Bullshit episode on it in which they determined that from a consumer perspective, there is not much value in purchasing organic over commercial. But still, I value organic options in my grocery store and I will continue to be a customer of the Central Market's Organics brand. I like knowing that organic foods are products that are produced using methods that do not involve modern synthetic inputs such as pesticides and chemical fertilizers. I like knowing that my food does not contain genetically modified organisms, and are not processed using irradiation, industrial solvents, or chemical food additives. I also like when my food tastes good. Not only does the Central Market Organics stuff taste good, it feels healthier, and I consume with just a tad less guilt than usual knowing I am limiting the impact on the environment during my food's growth and preparation. As the packaging touts, "By choosing organics, you’re helping to reduce the chemical runoff in our ground water sources and to reduce the use of environmentally harmful artificial fertilizers, pesticides and herbicides commonly used on conventional crops." And it's true.