Houston

The greatest Irony

The Greatest Irony

Betty & I went on a lovely drive to the Carrizo Plains National Monument today.  We drove through the orchards and fields, through Buttonwillow,  the oilfields and McKittrick.  On the way to show her the McKittrick Brea Pit on 58W, I stopped in the middle of the road for a great sun worshipping gopher snake.  I saved it from getting run over.  I showed Betty the gas bubbling through the oil at the brea pit.   There was a little mouse that had gotten stuck in the tar.  His feet and nose were buried.  He never had a chance.  You’d think they would learn after 10,000 years. 

The drive over the Temblor range this time of year is beautiful.  There is still a lot of green grass and the soda Lake has lots of water in it.  The Carrizo Plain National Monument has a little museum and visitor center.  But the Indian rock painting monument is closed this time of year.  On the way back an oilfield truck crashed into a power pole and Reward Road was closed to traffic.  I know my way through the Cymric oilfield so we wound our way through the leases and went to the McKittrick Hotel for lunch.    I had an Ortega bacon cheeseburger with a salad.  Betty had the seafood platter.  It was good, but I would rather have gone to Luigi’s or Noriega’s. 

As soon as we got home, I started on the yard work.  On my hands and knees pulling weeds, I was in a daze working.  One thing led to another and I keep seeing more things to cut and weeds to pull.  My radio was going and Lily was with me.  It was nice to be out, but after 2 ½ hours, I just wanted to get done…

I have always wanted an avocado tree in the yard.  Several attempts have failed.  It’s either too hot in the summer or it freezes in winter.  However, I can’t help but to keep trying.  Numerous glasses and dishes have adorned our kitchen window sill and counter top with avocado pits trying to get one started.  I had roots going on one just to have the house sitter let it go dry and die while we were gone.  And recently a little shoot finely got started but can’t seem to keep going.  Betty has expressed many times the fruitlessness of these attempts over the years.   But yesterday, Lia came home with a bag of small avocados that were grown in Bakersfield.  So it can be done.  Maybe that’s why they sell potted avocado trees at the home stores.  I thought people were suckers to pay $35 for a tree that was sure to freeze or die of Bakersfield heat.  But here they are, proof.   I’ll have to keep trying to get one started.

As I was cleaning up in front in my gardening daze today, I saw a tree growing up through the Camilla bush.  The tree had apparently been there for some time because it had grown up through the Camilla that is 7 feet tall.  There was nice new growth at the top with numerous little leaves poking out to the sun.  I looked at the leaves on top and the green stock.  I didn’t readily recognize it until I pulled it out by the roots.  As I’m holding this 7’ tall tree in my hand, I get a look at the larger leaves toward the bottom of the trunk.  It was then that I had a sick feeling in my stomach as I began to recognize it as a healthy avocado tree.  Well, it was healthy until I yanked it out of the ground.  How could I have done that after all my attempts to grow a seedling?  It must have been growing for several years.  Nice and protected in the Camilla bush.  I started thinking when I might have planted a seed there.  Damn it, I am so pissed.  Frustration leads to aggression, I broke it up into about 5 pieces and stuffed it into the trash can and finished my yard work devastated at my stupidity. 

As I continued working, I got thinking.  Was it really an avocado tree?  It couldn’t be.  It’s too cold in the winter and too hot in the summer, right?  Damn it.  It was just getting big enough to start blooming.  It couldn’t be an avocado tree.  I would have recognized it.  Damn it.

My neighbor was out. She would know what an avocado tree looks like.  I called her over to check it out.  I dig the yard waste out of the green trash can and dumped it on the sidewalk until I found the broken tree and pulled it out.  “That’s and avocado tree.  What’s it doing in the trash?”, she said.

“I pulled it up”

“You idiot” and she hit me. 

“It was an accident”.  But I deserved to be hit.  I’m just glad she is old.

Damn it.  So now I felt so guilty that I made an attempt to rescue it.  I cut the trunk off at about a foot up from the roots and planted it in a planter.  I put the pot back under the Camilla bush where it came from hoping that it would be happy back where it was.  I am hopeful but have reasonable expectations. Hey, I’m going to start putting avocado seeds directly into the ground where they belong.  Maybe I can get another one started. 

Pollo en Mole

Pollo en Mole

In February 1980, I was living in Seal Beach.  Actually, I was living “on” Seal Beach.  Yeah, I had an apartment on the boardwalk.  I was pretty sweet.  I think back then I would say it was “bitchen”.  My brother Derek was living on the beach in San Blas, Mexico.  He and a friend were surfing there for about 6 months living in the back of his El Camino.  We talked long distance on the phone once or twice.  And on one call we got the idea to meet up in Mexico City.  We arranged to stay with my Dad’s cousin, Dione and his family.  We wanted to visit our Grandfather Mendez who also lived there.  We never remember meeting him and we didn’t know him as adults.  He was about 80 years old at the time.  And I am always looking for a reason to go to Mexico.

It was a miracle that we actually pulled it off, rendezvousing in Mexico City.  I took a flight from LAX and Dione picked me up at the airport.  We didn’t know him either, but we found each other OK.  Derek was going to meet me at the airport also a day later.  However, he was arriving by bus, a Mexican bus that took him on a 2 day journey across the mountains on a winding, treacherous road.  The bus was packed with locals and their crying babies, their livestock and chickens, chugging along, diesel smoke billowing through the open windows, sweltering hot in the jungle during the day and freezing cold in the mountains at night.   He called Dione’s house to announce this eventual arrival, and I remember he was really happy to see me when we drove up to the airport to pick him up.

Dione and his wife Marta are the nicest people in the world.  They have 2 sons that are a little younger than Derek and me.  At that time they were teenagers and busy with whatever they were doing.  Dione and Marata took us to the Pyramids, the central plaza and other sights in the area.  And he took us to meet our Grandfather a couple times.  Grandfather Mendez was a nice old guy, but we really could not communicate very well.  We did go to lunch one day at an old colonial restaurant.  Dione insisted that we have the specialty of the house, Pollo en Mole.  Chicken pieces boiled to tender and meat falling off the bone with the slightest touch.  It was smothered in Mole sauce that was very dark, thick and rich with chocolate and chile.  I never had Pollo en Mole like that before.  And with a cold XX, it was most memorable.  It was so memorable, in fact, that I remembered it yesterday when I had lunch again at La Cabana on

Golden State Ave.

in Bakersfield. 

I first discovered La Cabana in Bakersfield when I moved here in 1981.  They had a restaurant on

Oak Street

just north of Truxton in the 2 story brick building.  I remember being kind of lonely in Bakersfield before Betty moved out from Texas.  Between February 1980 and January 1981, I had left California and moved to Spokane, WA, got my job as a Mud Engineer and moved to Houaton, Texas, met Betty and transfered to Bakersfield.  There were not many restaurants in Bakersfield in 1981.  I had not discovered the Basque restaurants until years later.  I remember Mossman’s and Bill Lee’s though.  And La Cabana had great Mexican Food.  The restaurant on

Golden State Ave

, is small and unassuming.  The service is great and the staff makes you feel like you are at their home.  And the Pollo en Mole is the best I’ve had since the treat in Mexico City 31 years ago.  It was served with 2 pieces of chicken and lots of Mole sauce, rice and beans.  They did not provide a knife on the table, but the chicken was so tender, I could have pulled it apart with a feather.  It’s only $10.95 and plenty of food with the 4 flour tortillas and chips and salsa.  It’s a must have if you like Mexican Mole. 

Another memorable moment on my visit to Mexico City that time was coming home.  The flight got all screwed up and was scheduled to arrive about 9 PM.  My Dad was going to pick me in front of the airlines.  As it turned out I arrived on a completely different airline and landed on the opposite side of LAX at 2:00 in the morning.  Remember, there was no way to communicate back then once you left the house. It was raining when I walked out of the terminal and LAX was deserted.  I carried my luggage across the airport in the rain to where I was supposed to arrive and there was Dad’s station wagon parked in front of the terminal all alone.  He was sound asleep and had been waiting for me for hours just snoozing away.  I swear that guy can sleep anywhere.  I knew then how happy Derek was to see me and Dione in Mexico City.  Both Derek and I are really glad we made the trip to see Grandfather Mendez because he passed away about 3 years later and that was the only time we remember seeing him.

Lunch week of 4/4/11

Lunch time w/o April 4^th

Monday I had lunch at Frugatti’s with customers.  Frugatti’s is always a solid 3 star lunch experience.  I usually get the eggplant Parmesan on the lunch specials list.  I love the marinara sauce and the side of pasta with the fresh roll that comes with the dish.  It’s a large dish and enough to take half of it home.  Today however, I decided to try something different.  I ordered the meatball sandwich.  The roll was toasted and the cheese melted.  It was really big and I didn’t think I could get it into my mouth.  So being with customers, I used my knife and fork.  I silently reminded myself of a story my Dad told us when we were at my Aunt Emma’s 98th birthday.  He had a relative that did not want to have anything to do with anything that was related to being Mexican.  He did not want to speak Spanish or eat Mexican food.  And when he did eat tacos, he used a knife and fork.  I laughed to myself remembering Dad mimic this guy using a knife and fork with his pinkies out like he was playing a violin.  I also wanted to use my knife and fork because of the toasted bun.  Sometimes a crusty roll and hot marinara sauce is just the right combination to rip the roof of my mouth to shreds.  And with the hot mozzarella cheese to add to the damage, I didn’t want to go through that.   The meatballs were big and meaty and the sandwich was good, although ordinary.

On Wednesday, I went to Chipotle on Brundage.  It was very busy at noon with lots of young people.  I ordered a steak salad with everything.  It starts with nice fresh Romaine lettuce and I had pinto beans, salsa, guacamole and cheese.  It’s a great salad and cost about $9 with tax.  The restaurant was so noisy inside, I was glad to find a seat in the patio outside.  I even found the morning paper to read for the second time that day.  I like Chipotle for quality, a generous portion and value.  Maybe that’s why so many young people were there.  Also, it’s next to the Boarders that is closing.  There is a 20% off everything, so I went in and found a couple CD’s.  I got Band on the Run, a classic I never did have.  It was our favorite CD on Me and Eppard’s first and every road trip from 1974 to 1976.  Band on the Run is the best road trip song ever.  That, and Benny and the Jets.  I also got Joan Baez’ Diamonds and Rust.  I know she is a stupid liberal, but I like the title track.  And I would never buy either of these CD’s unless they were on sale.  So, thank you Boarders for closing.

Thursday was a day when I had colleagues with me from Houston.  We had a meeting at the top of the Midway Sunset field to kick off a project.  We got done at lunch and I was going to take them to the famous McKittrick Hotel for lunch.  Then I remembered it was Thursday – steak day.  There is always a big crowd on Thursday and you need to get there by 11:00 to get a table.  The steaks are the bomb.  They barbeque a great ribeye steak and people come in from the oilfields for a real treat.  I was looking forward to showing them the oil seep at the McKittrick Brea Pit.  It’s pretty cool to see bubble up out of the ground along the side of the road.  But we had another appointment in the afternoon on the other side of the valley.  So I missed showing them the Penny Bar at the McKittrick Hotel.  I missed showing them the old photographs on the walls and the picture of the Lakeview gusher.   I missed telling them of how I used to go there for breakfast in 1981 as a young mud engineer.  And how before there were fax machines or cell phones, the drilling engineer would have a phone and cord brought to the table and he would plug it into the 4 prong phone jack, still on the wall and call in the drilling report.  And I missed telling how after 30 years of working in these oilfields and eating at this place, I can’t believe I am still here. 

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Mike-and-Annies-McKittrick-Hotel-AKA-The-Penny-Bar/333024065311

But alas, we bypassed the Penny Bar and went to Bakersfield for lunch.  I took them to Noriega Hotel.  But we missed the 12:00 sit down for lunch, so we eat in the bar.  There is a limited unpublished lunch menu in bar: lamb or tri-tip dip; pickled tongue sandwich; grilled lamb or tri-tip and cheese sandwich; and hamburgers.  We all had cheeseburgers.  All the sandwiches come with salad and fries.  It’s’ a great bargain for $8.50.  But it doesn’t come with wine like in the dining room.  It’s just as well since we were going to a meeting.  The burgers are great, piled high with ripe tomatoes (2 thick slices), sweet white onions and lettuce.  The patty was hand pressed and hung over the fat bakery bun.  Although I think mine was cooked a little too long on the flat top (a little Food Network lingo).  The fries are great, hot and fresh.  And the lady in the bar provides great service.  Another 4 stars for Noriega Hotel. 

http://www.noriegahotel.com/menu.html

On Friday I went out to the oilfield again, this time to Belridge.  I don’t go to Belridge very often at lunch time without going to the taco truck at Entrance D.  Gabby from Lost Hills has been there for at least 10 years.  They make the best tacos anywhere.  They use full size corn tortillas (2 for each taco so they don’t fall apart as easily) and lots of meat.  The sauces are great and they only cost a dollar something.  I never really know how much they cost.  Today, I got 2 lengua tacos, a bottle of diet Pepsi and a Snickers bar for $6.50.  Another location to catch Gabby’s is at the little carniceria in Lost Hills on Hwy 46, just west of Lost Hills Road.  It’s the same great food and there is a canopy with tables and chairs.  The flies don’t bother me too much and they are free.  Seriously, the flies are not a reflection on the food or the truck.  Flies are everywhere out there.  I’ve been in the field before and left my car windows down a bit to keep it from getting too hot.  And I get back in my car with a hundred flies in there.  2-80 air can’t even get them out.  That’s 2 windows open going 80 miles an hour.  I think I still have flies in my car from last summer.