a taste of Havana: cigars & beans

If today was a country, it'd have been Cuba. While it is winter, it felt like spring. The sky was robin's egg blue like only Colorado can do, with a brilliant sun that warms right through your jacket, feeling as though you're wrapped in sheets that have just come out of the dryer. The sun on Cuban days like this, make one cross the street many times, chasing after the sunny side.

This Cuban day began with beans of all things. An old co-worker used to talk about Sundays spent 'making beans.' His grandmother would make us a huge crock pot of the most delicious ones ever for holiday potlucks. They seemed to be an art in his family, and over time, I was desperate to know the way too. A part of me didn't feel assimilated into Colorado culture without first conquering, 'the making of the beans.' The love affair with the idea began last year and it was just today that I finally took it on.

It's best to let you know that I have the heritage of a very white, Midwestern family. To me, that is defined by dinners of beef strogannoff and tuna noodle casserole. Side dishes were Jiffy cornbread and pillsbury cresent rolls (the ones that 'pop' out of the can) and certainly not beans. Well, unless they were in chili of course, which those beans came from a can. The point is, never before had I touched a dried bean...until today.

 My goal was to take the bag of dried beans I courageously bought last week and make them the centerpiece of dinner. If all went well, AMC would rave, saying as he usually does when rice and beans are on his plate, "I could eat this every day." Those are the magic words,  the ones you shoot for---success.

The Making of the Beans
here's  how it all went down for me.

Step 1: 8 a.m.   Soak the full bag beans in a bowl full of water for 8 hours.

*go out on errands
 *upon arriving home at 2, I noticed that the beans had doubled in size, almost overflowing their bowl. A transfer to a larger bowl was necessary. Note to self: next time, use a bigger bowl at the start.

* around evening time, AMC called and asked if I was up for a Palma's session. I was, and honestly, most days I would be. Palmas is a cigar and wine shop a few blocks away. The owner, Clay, travels to the Dominican Republic every 12 weeks to gather the tobacco leaves for the cigars that he hand rolls and sells. It's a fantastic little place that feels just like Cuba might, with dark turquoise walls that peel in just the right places, and vintage, brass light fixtures. His cigar rolling table is right up front, and his old fashioned 2 seat barber shop is in the back. How does a person decide to open up a barbershop/cigar store? I asked. (because I always have to.) He said that while growing up in the 50's, every other Saturday his mother would send he and his brother to the downtown barbershop, where the men would smoke cigars and chat while a black and white TV played the current ballgame. It was the epitome of cool to him, and it stuck... making Las Palmas what it is today. We told him that being there transports us to another country, on vacation. He said the decor of the place was inspired from a weekly calendar book of Cuba. He had the book there to show us, a Taschen, filled with fancy houses with courtyards and magnificent chandeliers. One particular photo showed an older, dark skinned woman talking on the telephone, leaning on the sill of her house window, smoking a full sized cigar. Cuba seems to have an off the beaten path sort of beauty, and Las Palmas certainly captured it too.

After a glass of Colorado red wine (who knew?) and a cigar shared, we headed home. And I got straight to the beans.

Step 2: Drain water from soaked beans and empty into a saucepan with chicken broth at boiling tempurature. Meanwhile, cook bacon in a pan, adding diced onion, jalapeno and tomato, cooking for 3 minutes. Add to beans mixture.

 Step 3: Boil for 1 hour. This is where the nuturing comes in. Add  fresh cilantro, salt, pepper, garlic powder, chili powder and coriander to taste. Also, stir often. You will notice the sauce getting nice and think over time.

Step 4: Viola! serve with rice and a salad.

It truly is that easy! Not to mention healthy and delicious!
A Cuban day well done.

p.s. check out the bonus spotted on the way home... shaggy dog. I bet he's Cuban.

Life in Lodo: Denver's Union Station: Past, Present and Future

I love me a good city. Some, like Chicago, make me feel at home. I love taking the South Shore train at one end in South Bend, Indiana and traveling along Lake Michigan for 3 hours, pulling you directly into downtown at Randolf Street Station. Coming up from the subway exit and onto the street, you are instantly in the center of all of the hustle, bustle and magic- it's exciting, yet, comforting because it's relaxed in a way as well. It's New York on a tranquilizer. Blues bars are impeccable there. One night in college, my Grandpa Jamie and I went to a blues bar together. My Grandma wanted to go to sleep so just the two of us jumped in a taxi and went to Kingston Mines, where now I go every single time I'm in town, and take everyone there. It's exactly how you would picture a blues bar.. wood walls, reddish lights and always the most soulful black men sitting in chairs singing their hearts out while playing instruments that make your heart skip beats. which means you pretty much die then, right? and go straight to heaven.

 

Other cities like Charleston, South Carolina (even though I've never been there) make my soul remember something familar too. If other lifetimes exist, I was a Southern woman who lived in Charleston and wore hats with feathers on them, and gloves of course. I drank sweet tea on porches and walked barefoot in pecan orchards.

Tokyo satisfies all of my fantasies of a Fantasy City. It's such a mindtrip, a delightfully safe mindtrip.  It's like being in a wonderful movie where you jump on a train that comes every 2 mintues (exactly.) and travel to a different land, aka, other part of the city. You can go to funky Harajuku, where Gwen Stefani goes when she is there (she loves harajuku culture very much.) then onto a beautiful, traditional temple and then eat whale at a nice restaurant (oh the guilt of eating whale, and liking it.) or a cheap and quick "revolving" sushi restaurant.

fast food sushi, take it right off the belt that moves in front of you. Each plate is a set amount. You pay at the end by the waitress counting your plates. photo courtesy ofhttp://may162011littletokyotrip.blogspot.com/

You can exit a subway stop at Shinjuku and see this: a cross walk of like 6 streets:
and then take a break at one of the coolest Starbucks in the world, and get a birds eye view of all of the crossing.

view from the Starbucks in Shibuya, Tokyo. photo courtesy of http://www.igougo.com/journal-j42903-Tokyo-Two_Days_in_Tokyo.html

Now that I have just gushed about my crush on Tokyo, Chicago and Charleston-- onto Denver.

This city is my home. It started out as an arranged marriage, Denver and I. At first we liked each other just fine. But, I kept my distance just a tad, because I wasn't sure if Denver was long term for me. As if I had a choice. Immediately, this "temporary" home began it's seductive pull, persuading me to give it my affections. Somewhere inside I could feel it's gentle persistence, "come on, love me" like a guy who asks a girl out every single day until finally, exasperated, she says yes... and then they date and marry. Denver has done it to me. I've tried to ignore her ways, but she won me over. The brick buildings of LoDo with huge wooden beams, the old mercantile buidling murals covering the walls still, reminding us all the while- that Denver was 'the' west at some point in history. Things happened here. And the center of it all was Union Station.

Everything centered around the trains, there were about 80 trains going in and out a day, according to an awesome radio story today on Colorado Public Radio. I've known that Union Station had big plans because construction started a year ago, but I had never seen any blueprints or plans. Last month, I trekked over a few blocks and went to the Transportation District's monthly meeting (there were like 18 people there) where they showed a slideshow of the future station. It's just what I've hoped for.

It's seems similar to Japan, in that the train station will be the center of the city's actions. People will come and go on bus, train, lightrail throughout the state and to the airport. There will also be a hotel as well as restaurants, shops, bars and entertainment. I can hardly wait!

And so you see, Denver's seduction keeps reeling me in. It has it all, the laid back feeling like Chicago, the old history like Charleston and now with the modern Union Station plans, I'll get my taste of Tokyo. Just as I dream of experiencing a new city in the country to live, I realize that for Denver, "the best is yet to come," and I just may want to be around for it.

Denver's Union Station in the Past.

These photos are on our floor in the building that we live in across from Union Station. These are photos of photos.

Union Station in 1894.

View coming out of the station. The Welcome Arch was taken down and has been in storage for decades. It's coming back!!

Denver's Union Station Today:

After hearing the radio show today, I walked over and shot some photos. It's a grand building. According to the interview with the CEO of Sage Hotels, all people will enter into the grand hall. It's huge historic windows will remain. People will beable to buy tickets for transportation, eat at restaurants, shop, grab a cocktail. It will be the city center, with lots of activity going on. Apparently, sound engineers are making it so the hotel rooms are quiet and peaceful, with views of the mountains.

There are still signs for Telegraph and Pullman on the walls.

such grandeur and glorious light. 

today's construction site.

Denver's Union Station in the near future:

These are the renderings that were shown at the RTD monthly meeting. More info on the complete project can be found at http://www.denverunionstation.org/

keeping the old, adding the new.

we live in the brick building on the right. we rent now, owning is a smart thought.

according to the radio show today, the train to Denver International Airport will be on track 1.

Life in Lodo: Vaji's Expert Alterations (& cultural teachings)

Vaji with some of her finished works. She was named Best Tailor in Denver in 2009.

I found "my" wedding dress for sale in New York for $400 less than the store in Denver. Am I going to order from them and save 400 buckaroos? You betcha. First, I just needed to have my body measurements in order to figure out what size to order from the NY store. Because I have lived in Denver for 3 years now and have never gotten anything tailored (am I a slob?) and I really prefer to do business with places that I can walk/shuttle ride to, I consulted google to see if any tailors have a shop downtown. The first place that popped up was Vaji's. Mary, my step-mom told me it should be an expert tailor because wedding dresses are an entirely different breed. My standards had to be high. Even if I didn't want to drive across town, I might have to. But, it turns out, it wasn't necessary, her reviews were remarkable; they raved about her impeccableness and old-world service. Curiosity set in.

Vaji's is located right on the 16th street mall on the second floor o the historic building above the MCDonald's. When you pull open the heavy door and enter the lobby, one feels as though they have been transported right back to the old West. Ornate ceiling work, etched bronze letter boxes and marble remind you of what the West was like in earlier days. If there are ghosts in there, they are probably women with big, round dresses with equally big, round hats with feathers on them and men with hats who have time pieces in their jacket pocket. 

Quietly entering her space, not sure what to expect, there she was with a smile and she said, "it's good to see you." At first I thought she thought I had been before and was mixing me up with someone else. But then I realized, that was her greeting, naturally like she knows you. The space is on the corner, so two of her walls are actually huge windows that look out over the activities of the mall. We chatted for a bit and I let her know that I was there for bridal measurements. I noticed her slight accent but wasn't sure where she was from. I was thinking Eastern European. As I set my coat and purse down, I noticed pictures of a regal looking family in fine clothes. I figured this was my chance to figure out where she was from so asked, who are these people? Vaji replied that they were the King and Queen of Iran. She said that they were such good hearted people who did good for their country and their people. But, the groups that we are familiar with today, essentially took over power of the country and kicked the royal family out of Iran, who were forced to live in Egypt.

She flipped through pictures, showing a stunning woman in beautiful clothes, the Queen and a handsome man with his army suit which was decorated with badges, brass buttons and golden ropes. She said, "they were loved deeply and ran the country well. When they were forced to Egypt, they had nothing." I can't imagine what that meant for them, going from being the top tier of society, the beloved King and Queen, to nothing. One of their son's comitted suicide and the King passed away from a broken heart essentially. She said there is one son living today that many Iranians hope will regain power somehow and get their country back on track.

I asked Vaji when she came to the States. She said that she was a school principal of twenty something years. Her husband was a city official. When the terrorist groups came into power, they started strict enforcement that all women wear a veil. Vaji said she couldn't handle it. She said that although she doesn't now, when she was young, she wore makeup with extensive eyeliner and big hair. She wore the clothes she liked. She just couldn't bow to their rules, covering her face, wearing no makeup and showing not even an ankle or wrist. I was wearing a long sleeved blouse and jeans, certainly nothing remotely scandalous. Vaji motioned at my makeup'd face and modern clothes and said, "they would throw you in Jail and kill you if you wore this outside. I couldn't do it." She was a school principal, she was used to power and success. She just couldn't stuff that all away and become a reclusive woman, bound by this 'new society." She and her husband sent their sons to college here in the States. She said they would spend time here and in Iran. At one point, Vaji said, "that's enough of this regime in Iran, I'm retiring from principalship and we're going to the States." That was something like twenty-five years ago.

Hearing all of this was refreshing. I felt like I was getting the "inside scoop" on what is going on. Though journalists are ambitious in their reports, it seems like if you weren't listening to the beginning of something, they rarely go back in time and explain what the initial conflict was. For example, they may report on a bus bombing in a capital city, they may say who did it, but you there is little information as to why.  But I digress.

In short of it all, I realized yesterday that not everyone in Iran or the Middle East want to live this way. Some feel trapped. I'm thinking that alongside Vaji being a sweet and talented woman, she is also fierce. She seems to know her own power and said, 'nope. I'm not sticking around for this dog and pony show. I'm going to live my life elsewhere, freedom reigns.'

Thanks Vaji, I'll be back.

opulence in the lobby

etched brass letterbox. art.

Life in LoDo transmission

Tonite was a bike ride home from work (where I put in my 2 weeks notice- whoa!) where i took time to notice all that passed by in the LoDo, Denver (Lower Downtown) neighborhood. The commuter buses, shuttling everyone home. The little blonde girl peeking through the green, short fence at the downtown playground. The moped driving lady with a red helmet.

Turning onto 17th, my breath drew in, seeing Union Station all decked out for the season. Just as the thought of taking a picture became conscious, I saw this older man with silver hair under his stocking cap, with his wife a few steps behind him, set up with a tripod. He had the same idea as i. I took a quick picture, hoping not to distract him and become noticeable, and kept riding. I rode 3/4 of the block more before I wanted to take another picture, because Union Station is such a landmark; one really knows when they're in Denver when they see Union Station, at least that's my feeling. So, as I stopped for the second time, I notice another guy with a tripod getting the second picture I wanted.

And these two men, I decided, are my soul mates of the day. They too had the same vision as I. We are the only 3 in this great big world that had the same inspiration at the same moment on this 28th day of November, 2011.  To take a picture of the exact way Union Station, with all of her Christmas garb on, looked. And for that, the three of us are soul mates forever in my book.. Because maybe that's what a soul mate is, a partner in life that shares a unique experience on this planet; one that is unique; yet shared. Maybe sometimes it last a few seconds, and with others decades, but still it is intense in it's own right. Perhaps if we have a broader term for soul mate, the world be more humane. Idealistic, yes I know. But maybe it's worth a thought.

Soulmate #1- older man with tripod

soulmate #2- guy doing a photoshoot for b-roll for a band that loves Denver called pantyraid, an electronica band.

my own shot.