Every spring I thank the twirling stars that I was born a
May baby. By now, the hummers have
returned to the mountain, and the flat lands, suffused with record breaking April
snows, have bloomed a lovely translucent spring-green. I’ve been eating early season foods like strawberries
and asparagus, rhubarb and artichokes, happy to relieve my taste buds of their
winter doldrums. The cabin deck, once
piled high with wood, now sports boxed pansies. The gas grill tank is filled
and the patio table cleaned. It's a good month to celebrate birth and rebirth: I’m juicy
with anticipation and eager to get out in the world after what
was a long winter in my dark little cabin.
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Great Sand Dunes National Park |
So in celebration of the long-awaited arrival of spring in the
Rockies, the city-dwelling boyfriend and I decided to hit the road for my birthday
bash. It was perfect road trip weather,
sunny and warm, as we traveled south along the Front Range, listening to Flaco
Jimenez and Mumford & Sons, hopping over to see the Sand Dunes before
crossing into New Mexico for a few days in Taos.
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The view from the casita |
I have to confess, we enjoyed the high desert
town primarily from our casita hot tub and patio, with its view of Taos Mountain
(Wheeler Peak), but when we came up for air, there was food involved, and it
was sumptuous and lovely and perfect.
In order to make my ongoing case to Greg that all food is
celebration—from the simplest picnics of bread & cheese to so-called “fancy”
things like grilled lamb--I stock my grocery list with some of my favorites for
our week in Taos. Rib-eye steaks for the
grill, arugula for a lemon-truffle oil salad with toasted hazelnuts and shaved Parmesan, whole wheat pizza dough and fresh basil for pizza margherita, and
avocados, cilantro, and white onions for Greg’s guacamole.
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St. Francis de Asis Misson Church |
Being a Taurus, I don’t do anything by halves,
and when it comes to my birthday, indulgence and pleasure is my motto.
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Birthday Kir Royal |
On the morning of the blessed day, we have what has become
my traditional breakfast: Kir Royales (sparkling wine with Chambourd and a twist of lime) with
Moe’s toasted onion bagels and lox cream cheese with tomato. When I was single, I’d sit with my dog, elvis,
outside the cabin and soak up the sun in what is often chilly mid-May air and
get a little drunk, celebrating myself. Dear
Reader, A Note: This ritual is much more
fun shared with someone who kisses you back AND can
lift their own champagne flute.
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Karen's Pizza Margherita |
Later in the day we drive along Arroyo Seco to the canyon
that spills out from the Taos Mountains and share a picnic by the Rio Hondo. My first date with Greg was a picnic at the
farmer’s market in Boulder, where we ate local cheese and the buttermilk fried
chicken I’d made, and dozed inexplicably and innocently in each other’s
arms. This time, we’ve got store bought
fried chicken and some lovely Maytag blue cheese, along with good salami, green
grapes, and a chewy baguette. The
water burbles by pleasantly and, yes, we slept in the sun.
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A very big steak |
Back at home and after a rest (because eating is hard work),
we head back to Taos for dinner at The Love Apple where share a salad of
grilled asparagus and farm fresh eggs and I dine on trout baked in corn husks
while Greg orders the most amazing stewed beef enchiladas either of us has ever
had. The New Mexican chile sauce is complex
and layered like a mole, and the enchiladas are served in a with fat chunks of
tender meat served charmingly small cast iron pan.
For dessert, we split a chocolate cardamom mousse (also a surprise for
its spicy rich taste) and a fresh strawberry galette.
Back at the casita, I think about the days of feasting and kissing, of hot-tubbing in the early morning and watching movies in bed at night. I feel spoiled and full and happy. “This has been the best birthday of my life.”
I tell Greg. And it’s true. Oh May!
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