Lettuce Make Another Salad

I got off to a late start planting my vegetable garden this spring. I knew I'd have to wait until after hip surgery in mid-February, and then when I felt well enough to get outside, I quickly discovered that leaning way down to plant at ground level wasn't going to happen. There was only one solution: invest in raised beds that would bring the working area up to a height I could tolerate without bending over. By the time the beds were delivered, positioned, filled with good planting soil, and irrigation installed, the ideal time for planting lettuce in Southern California was almost passed. With hot weather bearing down on me, but still determined to put in some lettuce, I made my way to Flora Gardens nursery to see what was possible.

Most of the cool-season lettuces were no longer available, but a lovely purple-red lettuce caught my eye: Midnight Ruffles Red Romaine. It sounded like a name for a pedigreed race horse so I was convinced it would be a winner. Two days after planting the seedlings, the temperature shot up to the high-90s, a death sentence for most lettuce. The only thing I could do was to keep it well-watered and hope for the best. For several unseasonably hot weeks I fretted and hovered, and my lettuce seedlings hung in there. Against all odds, I am now harvesting beautiful ruby-red lettuce.

This is a lettuce with a pronounced flavor, not bitter, but assertive, so when I make a salad I pair it with other equally assertive-tasting ingredients. At the Ojai Farmers' Market, I found a Green Butter Oak Leaf lettuce, a red onion, tomatoes, and a sweet red bell pepper for color and crunch. Back at home, I added some crumbled Greek feta cheese and topped the whole thing with a yogurt-based ranch dressing. Paired with a boule of freshly baked artisan bread and a medium-bodied California chardonnay, I had a meal fit for a queen. A winner, indeed.

We're Not in Kansas Anymore

Another road trip to Santa Cruz, this time to catch my granddaughter's dance performance with her baile folklorico group. This company of about two dozen little girls and a couple of brave boys practice for months under the tutelage of very dedicated Mexican-American instructors who insist on keeping every detail of the dance steps, props and the costumes as authentic as possible. Even the girls' hair and makeup conform to a strict set of rules: tight braids, no curls, colorful ribbons woven into each braid; eye shadow in multiple bright shades, lots of mascara, blush and lipstick.

The instructors handle so many dance groups, ranging in age from the very youngest to older teens, that it has evolved into a major community fiesta called "La Guelaguetza" that celebrates the indigenous communities of the Mexican state of Oaxaca, birthplace to many residents of Santa Cruz. It is so big in fact that lengthy and dramatic proclamations are read by all the local politicians as well as the Mexican Consul General in San Jose, every one greeted with a deafening chorus of "Vive Oaxaca!"

Grilled nopales and butterflied chorizo.

The twin highlights of Guelaguetza are the dance groups in colorful native costumes from all over Oaxaca, and dozens of vendors of tantalizing foods and drinks. I thought I had a passable understanding of Mexican food, but everything here was new to me. Women in traditional dresses grilled nopales and chorizo with onions and chiles. Huge, round blue corn tortillas were toasted crisp then slathered with beans, grilled beef, avocados, sliced cabbage and cheese -- the traditional "tlayuda," a complete meal in itself. I gobbled up a cup of "nieve de nuez," a light ice milk made from finely crushed walnuts, and then tucked into a leche quemada (burnt milk). And there was a huge variety of pan dulce to satisfy any sweet tooth.

Blue corn "tlayudas" hot off the grill.

Pastries are packed into baskets lined with colorful paper.

I would be remiss if I didn't mention that my weekend in Santa Cruz also included a piroshki lunch in a Russian deli and a lamb kabob dinner at the local Greek Festival, but those are stories for another time. It's hard to imagine more cultural diversity anywhere in just two short days. The flavors and smells and languages being spoken around me were totally foreign but absolutely fascinating, and reminded me that it's good to leave home every now and then.