Category Archives: 2) Frequent Destinations

February 23, 2018 · 7:23 am

Tesuque Market, La Boca, SITE museum – snow and cold in Santa Fe

Tesuque Market

Way behind on my blogging since we left Albuquerque two days ago. There we woke up to a dusting of snow — enough for public schools to be delayed. We drove to Santa Fe where it was even colder and snowier which was pretty but made walking around outside not very enjoyable since we still were chilled even wearing borrowed warmer gear. Tuesday is not the best day to visit Santa Fe if you want to do indoor activities.

Tesuque Market

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two of the places we would have visited are closed on Tuesdays — the crazy George RR Martin installation, Meow Wolf, and SITE, the new contemporary art museum at the railyard district. We ended up having coffee at Tesuque Market, an alternative hangout (that has become sort of a touchstone for me) and later a good Spanish lunch at La Boca near the Plaza. Oddly this is restaurant week in Santa Fe, when restaurants have price  fixe (i.e. slightly more reasonably priced) meals…to lure people. Des Moines’ is in August. We drove back to ABQ on the always stunning turquoise trail (highway 14) through Cerillos and Madrid but the scenery was even more dramatic with the snow and the clouds dropping snow in the distance over the mountains and the sun streaming through at the same time.

Leah’s bumper sticker OMG GOP WTF

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February 21, 2018 · 2:12 pm

Acoma Pueblo, Bibo Bar, bow & arrow brew, chili addict — abq

Road trip Day #1 from Albuquerque! The theme was Pueblos. First stop the Pueblo Culural Center in Albuquerque, a pleasant southwest adobe building with interesting exhibits on the history, art and culture of the Pueblos, primarily in New Mexico. Good gift shop and nice looking restaurant too. Then we drove about an hour west through flat range country with giant buttes. mesas and other-worldly rock formations rising from the ground like strange abstract sculptures. Tumbleweeds blew, rather than tumbled, across Interstate 40. Unfortunately, Acoma Pueblo was not open to visitors when we arrived. Winter hours. But we could see a few adobe houses atop the Mesa where about 15 families still live. Off season was not a bad time to see it (from a distance, if not up close and personal) because you could get a sense of the isolation. It’s way out and up there. We drove on a two Lane highway up to an overlook atop a rock outcropping where a few native Americans were selling pottery from their car.

Then on to the small dusty town of Bibo and an old adobe building that has been a bar since 1913. As promised by a friend of Leah’s, the 1/2 pound burgers with cheese and green chilis were fantastic, served hot off the grill behind the bar where the woman who took our order also fried them up.

Back in Albuquerque, we met Wellington at the Bow &Arrow brewery, started recently by a Native American woman, we are told. Cool brew space and good beer, my husband reports.

I stopped at the Chili Addict, a small shopped packed with any kind of chili product imaginable (even x-rated chili, with racey illustrations on its labels, hidden behind a towel covering the shelf with an adults only sign. (I was an adult so I peeked in).I bought some packages of frozen green Chile’s to take home. (I brought an insulated lunch bag for transport.)

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February 19, 2018 · 3:53 pm

The Range Cafe (Menaul), Sandia Crest in the snow — ABQ

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February 11, 2018 · 4:08 am

Another Nepalese restaurant in DSM — A tale of two onion bhajis

Onion Bhajis At Kathmandu

Oddly, there is a second Nepalese/Indian restaurant now in Des Moines and this one is on the same street as the first — a workaday stretch of Southeast 14th Street. Everest looks spiffier than Kathmandu, a few blocks up the road. But the minute I saw the alleged onion bhajis at Everest, I thought “Nope.”  Those are onion rings, not bhajis, which are more like fritters.  Anyway, I know the real deal when I see it and Everest’s wasn’t it. The rest of the meal was passable but we will definitely be sticking with Kathmandu, which has better, more interesting, flavorful and authentic food, plus more endearing and competent service, even if it is a less spiffy place.

Onion bhajis (really onion rings) at Everest

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January 15, 2018 · 9:06 pm

Julien Baker, S. Carey and more at Mission Creek Festival 2018 in Iowa City

At the new Hancher Auditorium

I’ve lately become obsessed with the music of young singer-songwriter Julien Baker, so I was delighted to see she’ll be in Iowa City during the six-day Mission Creek Festival in April (she’s playing at Gabe’s on April 7, from what I can tell.) Also see S. Carey is part of the festival too…which has me thinking I need to look into the festival itself! Here’s more information: http://missioncreekfestival.com/

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January 12, 2018 · 11:53 pm

Coming in from the cold – blues at the DSM Botanical Center, avocado fries at The Republic

Botanical blues

As we were driving toward the Greater Des Moines Botanical Center last Sunday, we started realizing that the road leading there was chock-a-block with parked cars. Sure enough, we weren’t the only people with cabin fever, eager to get out of the house albeit not into the bitter cold tundra that is Iowa right now.

The Botanical Center is smartly offering blues concerts every Sunday from Jan. 7 through March 25 and I heartily recommend. The music – by local favorite Bob Pace, who I’m told plays regularly at The Gas Lamp downtown, although not to as huge a crowd as provided last Sunday at the Botanical Center – was good, as was the people watching and the very welcome green and leafy tropical hothouse setting. What a joy to see growing and flowering plants, especially at this time of year. The sun poured through the center’s glass dome, reminding us what it felt to actually feel almost hot. It felt great.

Avocado fries and a view at The Republic

Afterwards, we stopped at The Republic on Grand, the very stylish but welcoming bar at the top of the six-story  AC Hotel  in Des Moines’ East Village  that I’d yet to visit, mainly because I don’t go to bars much. This one has great views of the city and was quiet and welcoming. We had some outstanding avocado fries (avocado slices dipped in what looked like chickpea batter and fried) — delicious!

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January 4, 2018 · 7:56 pm

A little bit of Brooklyn in Des Moines – St. Kilda Bakery and Cafe

The new St. Kilda Bakery & Cafe, tucked away in an emerging downtown neighborhood of old brick warehouses converted into lofts and newly constructed apartment buildings, grabbed my attention initially because its owner is London-born and Australian-raised and promised an “Australian-style cafe.” That’s new for Des Moines.  Then I learned from a friend – a Des Moines native who lives in Brooklyn’s stylish Prospect Heights neighborhood – that St. Kilda’s owner previously ran a bar/restaurant in her NYC neighborhood. (Apparently he’s married to a Des Moines native, hence the move here…)

Anyway, St. Kilda (named after the owner’s hometown near Melbourne) has an urban contemporary  vibe and “modern, healthy-style”  food, based on my first lunch there last month.  Located in the attractively renovated warehouse now known as the Harbach Lofts, south of MLKing Parway downtown (a few blocks northwest of Principal Park, home of Des Moines’ minor league baseball team, the Iowa Cubs), St. Kilda  is a small but  airy tan-grey-white space with pale hard wood, concrete and redbrick. My friend Denise and I shared the avocado toast (an entree that appears to be all the rage today) and a steak salad with a poached egg on top. Both were attractively presented with  clever ingredients (beyond smashed avocado, the toast included charred corn, feta, tomato salsa; the surprisingly light steak salad included figs, pears and a bacon vinaigrette) — so not as ordinary or easily-made-at-home as you might think.   I look forward to trying dinner there sometime soon. (Here’s DSM Mag’s take)

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January 3, 2018 · 11:49 pm

Here’s my story about the (Iowa) Farm Crawl in the Minneapolis Star Tribune!

Hot off the press (and Internet), here’s the story I wrote last fall about “Farm Crawl 2017” that just squeaked in before the start of 2018.  click here to see the story online.

Midwest Traveler: Iowa’s Farm Crawl, where a farm is a farm

Iowa’s annual Farm Crawl is a quaint detour through some of the state’s smaller farms.
By Betsy Rubiner Special to the Star Tribune
DECEMBER 29, 2017 — 7:30AM
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PROVIDED BY BRET PARKHILL PHOTOGRAPHY At 40-acre Crooked Gap Farm in Marion County, Iowa, tractor rides were part of the fun during the annual Farm Crawl.

Standing beside neat rows of well tended vegetables planted in south-central Iowa, a farmer was fielding questions from visitors about sustainable irrigation methods when drops began to fall.

 

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November 29, 2017 · 3:56 pm

NYC Restaurant hopping in the Village —Prune, The Spotted Pig, Snack Taverna

Outside Snack Taverna, West Village

I have wanted to eat at the tiny East Village restaurant Prune ever since I read Blood, Bones and Butter, the well-written, compelling memoir by Gabrielle Hamilton, the owner/chef of Prune. Yesterday I finally did and loved it. My pal Myra and I may need to make this the annual dining spot at the end of our much-cherished post-Thanksgiving rendezvous. The food was outstanding — unique and memorable without being fussy or out there — and the service was welcoming, warm and attentive. Did we want bread to sop up the one or two spoonful left of our mussel and leek stew? our server inquired. Yes. Please.

Prune, at last

We arrived when it opened for dinner at 5:30 (Myra had an early train to catch) and the place was empty but it soon started filling up and we were glad we made a last minute reservation. Soon the dozen or so tables were full and single people sat comfortably at the bar.  Several customers seemed to be regulars and were greeted by name or even a kiss by wait staff.  Felt like a neighborhood handout. Myra and I shared everything (except her martini and my beer): creamy white parsley root soup with a flavor-packed piece of crispy chicken skin; fried oysters with a white creamy herb sauce; the light and delicious stew; a side of crispy grilled onions and garlic, and for dessert a rectangular “crouton” topped with a light caramel sauce and a scoop of ricotta ice cream. We will be back.

Earlier during our wander around the West Village, we stopped for a drink at another tiny restaurant, The Spotted Pig, that has long been on my list, run by another female chef, April Bloomfield. At 4 p.m. the bar was full, as were a few tables. Cheerful cozy place. The menu is more English fare, somewhat pricey but hope to return. We ate a light lunch at Snack Taverna, which was surprisingly good considering that we just stumbled in, lured by little beyond an empty table (actually all the tables were empty, which usually is uninviting).  This place seemed to be doing an good take out business.  We had good solid Greek-with-an-earthy-flair food:  a light country Greek salad (no lettuce; a slab of fresh feta) and spinach feta leek triangles.  Myra had a yummy egg atop polenta with a delicious light sauce. Around the block we found Westville, the restaurant I am always looking for but I can never remember the name or street. Glad to try something new.

Spotted pig

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November 28, 2017 · 9:57 pm

Wainscot (Georgica Pond trespassing/Beach Lane Biking)

Stayed at yet another borrowed mansion in the Hamptons this Thanksgiving, this one overlooking the exclusive Georgica Pond neighborhood (home to Grey Gardens and folks like Steven Spielberg) although I didn’t realize at first where I was riding the mansion’s borrowed bike. The caretaker suggested I take the bike for a spin so I rode on a pleasantly flat road through the woods to a road that seemed to lead to a body of water. I did see a private sign but also a welcome sign to an estate sale or tour so I rode on in past a few cedar shingled houses, typical fancy Hamptons stuff, and onto the beach which I thought would be a bay but soon realized was Georgica Pond. It was me and the sea birds. No other sign of life as I rode on the sand in the no speed fat tire, wide seat, bike. When the sand started getting soupy and I could find no quasi-public exit, I made a quick dash through someone’s back yard, pushing the bike up to the main road and out.

I soon found Beach Lane, a far more welcoming road to ride, wide, flat, leading straight to the ocean. Gentle wind, sun-soaked, the road was dotted with the occasional mansion, farm-stand and old gnarly-trunked tree. I parked my bike and walked out toward the crashing waves.

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