Ma Rainey's Black Bottom

Some time ago, J. and I saw University Theater's production of August Wilson's Ma Rainey's Black Bottom. The play's title refers to a song Rainey recorded in 1927.

Born Gertrude Pritchett in 1886 in Columbus, Georgia, Rainey performed in minstrel and vaudeville shows as a young adult. She first encountered the blues in 1902 at a tent show in Missouri. Rainey heard a girl more moaning than singing about how her man had left her. Prior to this, Rainey had employed a more theatrical singing style.

In 1904, she married William "Pa" Rainey and became known as "Madame Rainey." While touring the country as part of F.S. Wolcott's Rabbit Foot Minstrels and Tolliver's Circus and Musical Extravaganza, she adopted the "Ma" moniker, even though she was well under thirty. The nickname was given for her tendency to mentor younger performers. Her physical looks--short, heavy, dark-skinned, and sporting a mouthful of gold-capped teeth--didn't align with the era's perception of beauty for African American women, which prized thin, light-skinned women. Positioning her as a maternal figure made her more acceptable and less threatening.

In the 1920s, she toured as a solo act with the Theater Owners' Booking Association (T.O.B.A.), the vaudeville company for African Americans in the 1920s and 1930s. She signed a five-year recording contract with Paramount in 1923.

In 1933, she retired from performing to manage two theaters the she'd purchased with her earnings. She died in 1939 at age 53 from heart disease. In 1983, she was inducted into the Blues Foundation's Blues Hall of Fame and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1990.

We both agreed that the acting was great, although we wished that the play had showcased more of Rainey's music and that the performers had been musicians. (The music was all recorded instead of performed live.)

Les Gâteaux pour les Chiens

My colleague Susan is the best pet momma ever. She constructs special cakes for her canine companions' birthdays. They come complete with hotdogs, doggie bones, hamburger, and other delicious treats that les chiens adore. Take a gander at the puppies drooling over their cakes. Susan even graced them with candles.

In the Name of Cuteness

These are a few adorable outfits that I've worn lately, and I just wanted to share. Check out the shoes: The J. Crew polka dot rain boots were snagged for $3-$4 at a garage sale a few months ago, and I found the tan pumps at the Goodwill on Odana for about $5.

Roasted Chicken, Brussels Sprouts, + Wild Rice Blend

This was yet another slow cooker experiment. I used this recipe from Stephanie Dea's A Year of Slow Cooking blog. The Brussels sprouts were simply chopped and sautéed in olive oil, onions, and garlic. And the wild rice blend from Trader Joe's came to life in my rice cooker. (I also usually add broth or bouillon to brown rice and whole wheat cous cous to add a little flavor.)

Cioppino to Seafood Chowder

This culinary adventure started as cioppino, a seafood stew developed in the 1800s by Portuguese and Italian fishermen who had settled in San Francisco's North Beach region. It consists of seafood, tomatoes, white wine, and toasted bread (sourdough or baguette).

The word is derived from cuippin, which means to chop or chopped in the Ligurian dialect of Genoa, and refers to the tradition of chopping up leftovers from the day's catch to make the stew.

It shares a common history with other dishes from the region, including cacciucco or brodetto from Italy; bouillabaisse, burrida, and bourride from French Provencal; and suquet de peix from Catalan-speaking Spain.

Unfortunately, I used a fish blend from Trader Joe's. I like most things from T.J.'s, but this fish was low-end because the cioppino was contaminated by an over-the-top fishy taste.

So we return to the drawing board to transform a dish into something delicioso. As is the case with most things, adding butter and cream to it salvaged the fishy cioppino. I made a simple roux and kicked up the vegetable contingent.

Ta da! The end result was a gorgeous, rich seafood chowder.

Milwaukee

In January, I visited some friends in Milwaukee.

Lunch at Lulu's

Soon after arriving, we walked over to Lulu's for lunch. And then we went shopping. At Goldi in Shorewood, I found the lovely Pikolinos boots in the first picture. I also snagged some new Danskos.

That evening, we stayed in, ordered pizza from Mama De Marini's on Wentworth, and cackled away at Eddie Izzard's stand-up.

Baked oatmeal

The next morning, Andy and Elise made baked oatmeal for us. I'm not sure what recipe they used, but here's a similar one from bakedbree.com. I think it originated from Heidi Swanson's Super Natural Every Day.

Nile Restaurant

I know I'm a little pokey getting to this place, but it's a major enterprise for me to traverse to the west side. So here's my take on it:

The service is attentive without being cloying. The decor is simple with Egyptian hints in the wall embroidery, a camel light that will be mine--oh yes, it will be mine, and pretty red embroidered tablecloths. I started with the satisfying Egyptian split pea soup, which was dusted with Nile's own spice blend. Next came the best falafel I've had in awhile. It was flavorful and fragrant, not greasy and tasteless like some others. (I will be discreet and not name names, but you who you are.) The tabbouleh contained cucumbers, tomatoes, and green peppers and the creamy hummus had just enough olive oil. The sandwich was wrapped in what resembles a tortilla, but was a bit more substantial, like a very thin flatbread. In short, I will return.

Impressive

This little missive was scrawled on the sidewalk outside of Brothers Bar just down from my office. (Please excuse the color variation. The two pieces were pasted together in Photoshop--merci, John--because I couldn't capture the entire expanse with my phone's camera.)

What brand of religious zealot blithely dots the i in perish with a heart while simultaneously consigning people to eternal damnation? Impressive. Truly impressive.

Playing in Playa del Carmen

Hola! We got back from six nights in Playa del Carmen, Mexico a few weeks ago. And I want to go back now. During my short time in the sun, I forgot how brutal the cold, dark, icy Wisconsin days can be.

We stayed at the Hotel Aventura Mexicana, which is a smallish hotel two blocks from the beach and one-half block from Avenida Quinta (Fifth Avenue). It was close enough to the tourist district to explore, but far enough from the pulsating club music and the crowds. The courtyard was sheltered by palms and flowers, making it quiet and private, and the property boasted several fountains and pools. Gorgeous views could be had from the upper stories. We partook of their happy hour on several nights and finally swam in the pool on the last night. (Since the palms shielded it, the pool was chillier in the evenings.)

Being two blocks from the beach was marvelous. The room included a pass to the Kool Beach Club, which meant we could use the chairs with umbrellas, order food and drinks from the circulating waiters, and use the onsite bathrooms and pools.

The first towel sculpture in the hotel room

Our room was very clean (thank you, Cristina!), had a safe and a flatscreen TV, and boasted a pretty mosaic shower. The bath was loosely separated from the bedroom by a stucco dividing wall, but no door. That might bother some people, but we made it work. The friendly and helpful front desk staff upgraded us from two full beds to one king bed for no additional cost, and they helped us get our bearings.

The in-house restaurant, the Mayan Bistro, had little in the way of actual Mayan food, but their complimentary breakfast (instant coffee, tea, juice, toast, and sweet pastries) was sufficient, especially when eaten in the balmy open air.

Breakfast at Aventura

January 11:
The first night, we had a late dinner at a small place on Quinta called 1847. A delicious plate of guacamole and smoked pork cutlet tacos, chips and guacamole, a mojito, and a beer were the perfect start to our vacation. We ate, watched the people strolling along the avenue, and basked in the humidity and warmth. During the meal, the young waiter was  constantly running next door to woo a girl who worked at a nearby store. Very cute.

Smoked pork cutlet tacos at 1847

We were both kinda tuckered out from traveling, so we headed back to the hotel to get ready for bed.

At 1847

Elephant towel sculpture

Entrance to hotel

January 12:
We woke up without an alarm. (This was a vacation all about relaxing, taking it slow, and lounging at the beach, so that means no alarm clocks.) After breakfast, we walked to the beach to scope it out and were so enamored with the strikingly turquoise water and the soft, white sand that we ditched our plan for a walking tour to instead spend the day at the beach.

At Kool Beach

This was my first real experience with swimming in the ocean. Several years ago, I was in San Juan, but the ocean was in a protected bay. These waves could be very powerful at times, especially when it was windy. I also forgot how buoyant you feel in the salt water. During a walk along the beach, we witnessed a Mayan wedding ceremony.

At the Kool Beach Club, we had a lunch of grilled grouper with vegetable risotto and tacos. The fish was simple, but incredibly fresh and crispy at the edges. Risotto seemed too heavy for the hot weather, but when it arrived, it was light, flecked with bits of carrots, zucchini, and broccoli, and in a small portion size--perfect fare for lounging in the sun, digging my feet in the sand, reading, and playing in the water.

Ceviche

Vaca frita de res

That evening, we had cena (dinner) at La Bodeguita del Medio, a Cuban restaurant. I had the ceviche, which was served with avocado, cucumbers, chile manzano, red onion, and cilantro and had a lovely pungent kick. J. had the vaca frita de res, which is a steak marinated in milk and cooked with onions and mojo (in Cuban cuisine, a sauce made with garlic, olive oil, and citrus juice, traditionally sour orange juice). The milk thing was kinda surprising, but then I remembered that in Indian food, yogurt is used to marinate chicken; I guess it's a similar principal. The dairy breaks down the fibers in the meat, making it tender. It was served with white rice and yummy black beans. We also had the requisite mojitos and beer.

La Bodeguita del Medio

Our waiter was great. He noticed that we were tired and quiet from spending the day in the sun and then hunting for a restaurant in a foreign city, so he entertained us with some spatial game. They were challenging and made us laugh at ourselves. The band started (the six people crammed onto the tiny stage in the back of the photo) with a funky version of My Funny Valentine, one of my faves. And an older couple at a nearby table showed off their dancing skills for a few of the songs.

Xaman-Ha

January 13:
We spent the morning doing bits of a walking tour from the invaluable guidebook (Joshua Eden Hinsdale's Playa del Carmen, Tulum, and the Riviera Maya) friends loaned to us. (Thanks, C. + J.!) The Mayan ruins called Xaman-Ha ("Waters from the North") were the highlight for me. These shrines were (re-)discovered by Francisco de Montejo in 1528. (On a funny side note, Montejo is also a local beer from Merida that is served in many of Playa's restaurants. It's named for Francisco Montejo, and we had a few of them.) Mayan women would pray at these shrines before canoeing across the straits to Cozumel to worship Ixchel, the fertility goddess.

Near the pier to take the ferry to Cozumel

We also saw the pier to take the ferry to Cozumel and a small chapel. The chapel wasn't old (built in 1964), but it was a nice respite from the heat of the day.

Cenote

Another feature of the walking tour was a cenote. Cenotes are natural sinkholes that occur when limestone bedrock collapses and exposes groundwater. Archaeologists theorize that the Mayans used these fresh water pools for sacrificial rites. Believing that the cenotes were portals to the afterlife, the Mayans sometimes threw valuable objects into them as offerings to various gods and goddesses. Golden objects and human skeletons have been found in some of them. This one was pretty polluted from the development that had grown up around it.

That afternoon, we went to the beach and saw a few of our favorite beach characters again: First, there was the sun worshipper guy with the frosted blond hair who looked like an aging German pop star. He spent hours in the sun without aid of an umbrella or sunscreen and was consequently covered in moles. And then there was the dreadlocked stoner white grrrl with a massive camera. We surmised that she took photos for one of the beach clubs, so that explains the huge camera, but it was her walk that cracked us up. Beatific smile plastered on her face, she slowly shuffled through the sand and pooched her stomach out. We agreed that she walked like white stoner dreadlocked grrrls everywhere.

El Fogon

Exterior of El Fogon

That night, we had dinner at El Fogon on a section of 30th Avenue. J. had tacos al pastor and la torta al pastor, and I had the tacos with chorizo. It was a bit smokey because of the open-air kitchen, but the food was phenomenal and cheap, and the joint was filled with local people.

January 14:

At breakfast

In the morning, we went for a walk and had brunch at a little joint on the way back. Afterward, we tried to go to the beach, but it was not to be. Just as we arrived, it started to rain, and the deluge continued for the next eight hours or so. At first, we waited it out with an espresso at Vera Lucia's, a cafe near the beach owned by Vera from Brazil and her Argentinian husband. Then, wanting to escape from our hotel room, we took refuge at Fe for a few beers.

Beers at Fe

Rainy day

Interior of Yaxche

Donning our beach towels as umbrellas, we walked to the Mayan restaurant Yaxche for dinner. J. had the pavo en relleno negro, which consists of turkey, chaya (a Mexican green similar to spinach, but with more health benefits), and a ground beef meatball stuffed with hard-boiled eggs in a blackened chile sauce.

Exterior of Yaxche

Traditionally, pavo en relleno negro was prepared by forming a ball of seasoned meat around the yolk of a boiled egg, stuffing the cavity of a turkey (pavo) with these meatballs, and then simmering the whole thing overnight in a broth of charred chiles (recado negro). The dish is very symbolic to the Mayans. The intensely dark sauce symbolizes death, and the egg yolks embedded within symbolize hope and new life.

Pavo en relleno negro

Chaya-wrapped poached fish stuffed with vegetables

I chose the fish stuffed with vegetables wrapped in chaya leaves and poached in a white white and achiote (annatto) sauce. And we split a bottle of Mexican tempranillo/cabernet. Afterward, we walked on the nearly abandoned beach.

View from the hotel rooftop

January 15
In the morning before breakfast, we walked up 80th Avenue nearly off of the little map in our guidebook. The tourist district drops off precipitously within a handful of blocks and transforms into a normal neighborhood. Sadly, judging from the pedestrian walkway paved into their neighborhood, it seems like the average people who live and work here will soon by displaced by development.

Afterward, we went to the beach for probably our longest day at the beach.

Arrachera

Dinner was at HC del Monterrey (aka Super Carnes). J. had the arrachera (Mexican flank steak), avocado, a smokey, and a roasted potato deliciously charred from being on the fire with what divinely creamy, unpasteurized sour cream. Everything came with freshly made corn tortillas, pico de gallo, and salsa verde. I had the grilled chicken with a whole grilled onion, and avocado. We ate our meat piled in the tortillas with all of our fixings, supplemented by a swig of Bohemia dark beer. It was yummy. I wasn't in the mood for a pile of steak, but I tried J.'s, and it was tender, juicy, and delicious.

That night, another hotel guest finally got in the pool. We put our feet in. It was chilly, but soothing after a long day walking at the beach.

January 16
We walked in the morning down 34th St. into the less touristy area and back on Constitution. After a quick breakfast at the hotel, we took one last trip to the beach. Even though it was very windy, we played in the waves. J. ventured out farther than I did. He's more adept at jumping into the waves and swimming with them. I couldn't seem to get a handle on it and felt like my bikini was going to fall off, to boot. ;)

The night, we enjoyed happy hour by the pool, talked with some locals and other guests at the bar, and then went to the other El Fogon for dinner.

Happy hour by the pool