Author is coming to Nashville.

Hey, American South, look what is happening: A new cuisine is emerging, born of Southern and Latino cultures.

Que?

Tamales stuffed with greens, corn ice cream topped with hot praline sauce, brownies with chile, sweet potato and plaintain casserole.

Welcome to El Nuevo South.

The ingredients of our people are joyfully intermingling with traditional Southern staples and celebrated in a new cook book, The New Southern-Latino Table: Recipes that Bring Together the Bold and Beloved Flavors of Latin America & the American South, by Sandra A. Gutierrez.

The 150 original recipes explore the melding of cultures, ingredients and cooking techniques of more than 20 Latin American countries with that of the traditional American South.

We can only say Wepa, Y’all, to that.

Gutierrez, a food writer and culinary instructor from Cary, N.C., will be in Nashville this month during the Southern Festival of Books. She will be on a panel entitled “Meet Me in The Kitchen — Recipes for the New World Cook” from 12 p.m. to 1:30 p.m. Sunday, Oct. 16 in Room 30 of Legislative Plaza. (Be sure to check the online schedule just in case anything changes between now and then.)

I spoke to Gutierrez, who was raised in Guatemala and the United States, about the book and she shared some of her original recipes on the Tiki Tiki. So, head over there, print them out and share, share, share them. (And then buy the book.)

You also can connect with Gutierrez at her site, Sandra’s Kitchen Studio, and on her Facebook page.

From "The New Southern-Latino Table: Recipes that Bring Together the Bold and Beloved Flavors of Latin America & the American South." by Sandra A. Gutierrez. Used by permission, University of North Carolina Press.

 

 

Jeni's Splendid Ice Creams: Queen City Cayenne and Coriander with Raspberry Sauce. Ay!

I used to know where all the hot new Nashville restaurants were. It was the double bonus of sitting near the newspaper’s food critic, gossip columnist and music writers. Those people know everything.

These days I am more suburban soccer mom than reporter-on-the-spot and I don’t get out much to places when they make the first splash. Damn, I haven’t even been to the Watermark yet and it has been around since 2005.

But this week, I dipped my toe back into hitting the good stuff early. Helloooooo, Jeni’s Splendid Ice Creams and Yayo’s O.M.G. An artisan ice cream shop that just opened, and a gourmet Mexican food truck — both within 24 hours.

I am living large, I tell you. Large!

OK, first Jeni’s because even if you don’t live in Ohio, where it was founded, or in East Nashville, where the latest shop is, you can make your own amazing ice cream via the owner’s book. Seriously, people, buy the book.

We’re talking goat cheese and red cherries, or goat cheese with cognac figs; tres leches ice cream; lime and cardamom frozen yogurt and cucumber, honeydew and cayenne sorbet. (Hello, yes, tres leches ice cream, gente.) Here are some free ice cream and sorbet recipes from Jeni as published in Food & Wine.

You know, I get the porn addicts of the world a little better now.  Should I say that? I’ve gone through my book a dozen times and fantasized about what we’ll be making first. But, before we even delve into Jeni’s recipes, we have a freezer full of ice cream and paletas I already have made.

Look:

Blackberry and blueberry ice cream and mango/orange sorbet.

OK, and then after I get through Jeni’s book, I have to make the turron ice cream I found in The Perfect Scoop. And then, the leche merengada ice cream. Yes, you read those right.

I am not sure how with this current ice cream thing I have going on I am going to get beach body by 45. But, life is about joy, no?

Which brings me to Yayo’s.

Mahi Mahi Tacos

They’re new to Nashville, hailing all the way from South Florida, where they have mas food trucks. They go all over town, but park from noon to 3 p.m. each Wednesday outside of Conexion Americas on 18th Ave. South, on Music Row. And that’s where I met them. Que fab son.

I watched the continuous line from inside Conexion, an amazing non-profit I once volunteered with. People came to Yayo’s despite the horrendous heat. It was well worth it. Maria had a fancy quesadilla, but it was the choco-flan she says made the trip worth it for her. Of course.

Yayo and his wife are all sorts of awesome and they’re loving the Music City vibe and people. (They even nicely indulged my campaign for a seitan taco…I tried, vegetarians, I tried…)

The daily specials.

Yayo's cool truck.

You can read more about Nashville food trucks in this recent Tennessean story and in this Nashville Scene cover, Food Truck Frenzy.

And more about the ice cream adventures that Nashvillians can enjoy in this story, which lists places to consume helado and paletas.

Now, if you catch me posting more photos like these and hanging in long lines in front of the Grilled Cheeserie, please remind me that I never will achieve Brazil Butt by August 2012.

Temptation at Jeni's.

In the last week, I have dunked myself in the Harpeth River, taken a jon boat out on the lake at Montgomery Bell state park, and swum at the faux beach on the park’s lake.

A few nights ago, my daughter stripped off all her clothes and danced in a torrent of cool summer rain. (One more reason it’s good to live in the Boonies with no close neighbors: Naked drive-way dancing.)

Today, we are going creek stomping and barn dancing in the country, about an hour into the green pastures that surround Nashville.

I love summer in Tennessee.

The water. The open fields. The country roads. Turtles, turkeys, deer, woodpeckers.

All just outside my door.

As I sprayed my tuna-white body with SPF 50 sunscreen this week, I had a deep longing for the days of coconut and piña colada-scented SPF-nada suntan oil summers of my past. My Miami Beach and Jersey Shore years. Ah, remember those carefree, screw-skin-cancer summers? The sand, the ocean, the hot guidos y papi chulos?

And then the moment kind of passed.

I slipped into the warm lake and splashed around with my husband and daughter, listened to the birds call in the trees and felt total love and joy for the right. here.right.now.

I love the beach with red-hot passion, but I love the lazy river, lazy lake days we enjoy.

A year ago as my community was recovering from the flood, we couldn’t access the river as easily, we didn’t have time to just splash around in a lake.

What a difference a year makes. Though, if you look closely at the photo above, you will see trees knocked over. It doesn’t totally look normal yet along the river.

But, we’re gratefully back to enjoying all of what a Tennessee summer offers.

Deep sigh. Big smile.

Elsewhere

Before I go spray myself with more noxious SPF, a couple of links:

I wrote an essay over at fellow Nashvillian Jamie Reeves’ site, Blonde Mom Blog. The topic: Why I didn’t sign Maria up for a bunch of camps this summer.

And because making paletas and ice cream is such a part of our summer this year, here’s a Tiki Tiki round-up of fabulous tropical fruit paleta and ice cream recipes. You will thank me.

Frida did.

Frida likes pineapple paletas.

Have you heard the NPR series on Summer Sounds?

Lawnmowers, beans in buckets, bull frogs.

I love that series as much as I do Story Corps. Delicious.

In my back woods, the summer sound is frogs in the pond. I have no idea what kind of frogs they are, but they’ve been with us for a few months, many hatching from tadpoles.

They are loud and likely too loud for anyone who isn’t used to them, but if they weren’t there, I would miss them. They are my sound of summer.

When I take the dog out for his last walk in the evening now, the breeze is warm, the fireflies are dancing in the darkness, and the frogs are calling.

It is an instant pick-up after a long day of work and kid and rush. My few minutes of just being quiet and listening.

I know I have been gone from here too long. I know there is nary a soul checking in, but that’s been OK. It has given me the space to think about where I want this site to go. How much time I want to dedicate to it, why I should even do so when uploading a quick comment or photo to Facebook is so easy and so private.

Yes, I think Facebook killed my blog.

There is a safety there because I know those folks. I don’t know the googler from Indonesia. You know?

And Maria is halfway to 8 now. Telling stories about her, about her path to bilingualism and biculturalism was great fun when she was 3, but I am much more careful about sharing her in a blog. So, she won’t be making too many appearances here.

So what is left then if not the mommying stories?

I feel like I have some of those to share from my perspective. Like how a non-Latina friend wants me to write a parenting manual titled: “No es No es No es No! Parenting a lo Mami” or the complicated choices about schooling or the continued struggle to achieve bilingualism.

But, I also live in a wonderful city and beautiful state that I’d like to share more about. The undiscovered spots, the thick culture of music, the growing up of a city that 20-years-ago seemed so behind.

This past month marked the 20th year of my arrival. I was 23. And though cliche as it seems to say, it seems like yesterday. There are a lot of good experiences packed in there, strong friendships created and a passion for a place I thought I’d inhabit for just a couple of years.

I thought about writing more about running a business (The Pollitos) and the business of blogging (The Tiki Tiki) pero no se. There is so much good stuff out there already, that we’ll see. Maybe it’ll be more about the food we grow, new Latin-inspired vegetarian recipes, a little bit Vlogging tips. A part of me is way too fascinated with the process of aging, so don’t be shocked if you find me writing about my new gray hairs and my chicken-skin neck. Plus, I have promised myself a bikini body by 45 (that’s 13 months away), so perhaps my sweat will inspire posts. (Here’s a business of blogging post: Full-time Blogging makes you Gordita. The End.)

I guess where we go depends on who finally lands here, who returns.

When I launched Bilingual in the Boonies in 2006, it was very much about raising a bilingual kid. The readers,  mostly, came for that. (And some who just googled “Latin ass.”) I had great fun, and after more than a decade of having editors, it was like riding with no hands.

So now I am dipping my toe in again because while I write weekly at the Tiki Tiki, and work there daily, it is a space akin to a cocktail party. This is my house and there are things we say in our own house that we don’t say at the party.

And, truth is, though I have not known exactly what to say all these past months, I miss having people over.

Do you know that all I want to do these days is sit near a lazy Tennessee creek with this borrowed Boxer-mix puppy? Is she not heaven?

The creek is a few miles from us and runs through the front property of a friend’s house — same friend whose house was flooded in May when this little creek turned raging river.

Our own puppy, Buddy, is currently stuck at home with a cone on his head to keep him from licking his nethers. You see, he got the snip snip this past week.

I have to admit I was way too happy to get him fixed. He is insane. Sweet and wonderful, but insane. My mother, however, left this comment on my Facebook page: “Pobrecito, no lo dejastes probar la fruta.” (Poor thing, you didn’t let him taste the fruit.”

Ay!

Buddy is doing fine and in defense of his manhood, I have to report the vet told me his parts were impressively sized for a small dog. I told her that is probably why he is such a big pain. I know how to pick them, I tell you.

I’m linking this post to the Unknown Mami’s Sundays in My City series. She’s in San Francisco and the links she gets from other bloggers are pretty awesome. Thought I would show off the glory that is my little country Tennessee town to all those big city folks. Go look.

Happy Sunday!

Along the Harpeth River, April 28, 2010. This spot is gone now.

Until this weekend, my spring had been enchanted.

The dog and I have been strolling the woods for the necessary breaks, and though dreaded at the night hour, the early morning walks have given me a chance to watch the trees leaf and the wildflowers bloom. I have cursed the ticks, but have drunk in the early morning light and the cheeps and peeps and rat-tat-tats of the songbirds and woodpeckers.

Maria has a new bike, so we have spent time at our city park, the one right down by the river, enjoying the speed she gains on her purple ride. My freelance clients currently include an amazing art gallery and a non-profit with a beautiful upcoming garden tour — fabulous subjects for focusing on the good and wonderful in life.

And then this weekend, the bucolic peaceful green that makes me feel grateful and lucky to live here turned dark.

If you’ve watched any news this week, you’ve likely seen images of flooded Nashville. It is bad. Very, very bad. And sad in a way I cannot put into words.

My home and my family are safe, and save for some major ruts in our drive created by relentless rains, we are fine. But, our little town is badly affected.

The Harpeth River, a beautiful body of water I love with a passion, cuts through my area and flows slowly all the way to Nashville and Franklin, an historic little town.  The Harpeth is where we wade, where we skip rocks, where we canoe. It feeds a little creek that gently rambles past a friend’s house and in the early hours of Sunday, it swelled and filled my friend’s house to the second floor. (See pictures below).

Her family and two neighboring families spent two nights in their cars. They had parked up a hill, beyond the cow pasture behind their houses. They were rescued yesterday afternoon. She is not sure how much of her beautiful country home can be salvaged. Maria has played in that little creek since she was a toddler. It is one of my favorite spots in the world.

When the Harpeth overflowed it damaged houses and property for miles. It carried away at least four houses, making them look like nothing more than a discard washing away in a quick stream. The Mill Creek, to the south of Nashville and the Cumberland River, which rolls through downtown Nashville, also overflowed. The historic towns of Lebanon, Franklin and Clarksville have suffered. (And in the odd, country singer Naomi Judd’s six buffalo escaped and were roaming around her little town of Lieper’s Fork and because it’s all a country song here, check out this sweet and funny video, Landlocked.)

Nineteen people have died in Tennessee during the flood, whole neighborhoods are devastated and beloved Nashville landmarks like the historic downtown, the Grand Ole Opry, the gigantic Opryland Hotel, and the brand new Schermerhorn Symphony Center are damaged.

My husband and I lived in East Nashville in 1998 when a tornado leveled much of the neighborhood so we have experienced great destruction at the hands of Mother Nature. And as journalists we have covered enough fires, hurricanes and earthquakes to know that a wipe-out always brings rebuilding. It can bring out the best in people too. And the people who live here are kind and giving and they always turn out to help when they’re needed.

So, I sit here in my dry home with a lot of hope and gratitude, even as I mourn for my neighbors and the city that has adopted me — a little Cuban-American kid from Miami — as its own.

Friends and family who have called to check on us have asked what they can do to help.

Here are a couple of easy ideas:

• Text “redcross” to 90999 to give a $10 donation to the recovery efforts in the South. You also can do it by landline and by mail.
• Donate to the Community Foundation of Middle Tennessee.

And then, when we rebuild, please come visit. You’ll see firsthand why I love it here so much.

My friend's creek, 2008.

Same creek, May 1, 2010. Compare the bridge in both pictures

I am truly wondering why some parents would choose not to diapers their babies, and instead “intuit” when their tiny infants need to eliminate.

I have been chasing the new puppy, Buddy, around for five days now, making sure he makes it to the wee wee pads. A whole lot of intuiting going on here, and oh dear goodness, I am exhausted.

It hasn’t helped that we have been snowed in here since Friday. Yes, I said Friday. One.Two.Three.Four.Five days. Maria has had three snow days. Three. Including today. I am breaking out of here, no matter what.  Aire! Aire!

I feel like Laura Ingalls Wilder in The Long Winter. This is Nashville, and seriously, this is not supposed to happen like this for so long. But, the ice on our country road has been slick and scary, and so we have stayed in. You can check out some local pictures here.

While I am grateful for the time to just hang out, it is taking a toll. I slept in my clothes, people, and that is just not right.  Much longer and I turn into good old Jack from The Shining.

So yes, we have a puppy. I wrote about him over at the Tiki Tiki. There’s video too for your cuteness quota of the day. He is pure deliciousness.

And, if you haven’t already looked at the Smart Latina vs. Sexy Latina video we posted over there, do it. It is fabulous. Then, for grins click over to the artist Maya Escobar’s YouTube page and look at the difference in the comments, between the men and the women.

Anyway, happy Tuesday and think of me in this frozen tundra.

With me was an awesome Cubanita from Miami who is planning to move to Nashville with her husband and 3-year-old son. We connected through her best friend, also a Miami native and Nashville resident. She thought the Cubanita that I am could convince her Cubanita best friend that she too could live here.

When we parted yesterday afternoon, she said: “I am seeing it with new eyes.”

She now believes she can live here…so far from the Motherland and Hialeah. (I think it helped that another friend of mine, a woman I call the Center of the Cuban Universe in Nashville, joined us for lunch.)

I swear, I think I could be a tour guide in this town. I love telling people about Nashville, pointing out the cool, the unusual. I think I could be some kind of Chamber spokesperson because I love it here. I love the history, the idiosyncrasies, the music. Oh goodness, the music.

And the heart. (Do you know we were voted the Friendliest City in America this year? Again.)

This morning, I happened upon a Nashville-based group, Help-Portrait, that is encouraging photographers across the country to take portraits of people in need, print and give it to the person. I watched a video of one shoot and cried.

Not an hour later, the local NPR station ran a story about a Nashville-based online store, Mekong Blue, that helps women in Cambodia sell silk scarves around the world. Those scarves helps feed families, and as the story goes, keep women from joining the sex trade out of desperation.

It got me thinking about how many good, charitable ideas come out of this city. How many people I know who volunteer their time, give their money, loan their talents to help make this a better place. Their work spreads across the country and the world. They change lives.

These two others quickly come to mind:

The Rev. Becca Stevens, a supremely interesting Episcopal priest, founded Thistle Farms, a non-profit operated by the women of Magdalene House, a residential community for women with a history of drug addiction and prostitution. Stevens founded and runs Magdalene House as well. The Thistle Farms body lotions, candles and bath products are sold on-line and across the country and they not only help fund the non-profit, but teach the women business skills.

Sam Davidson, a young Nashvillian, co-founded Cool People Care, connecting volunteers with need and encouraging people to make a difference daily, even if it is just cutting a shower short by a minute each day. His site and book are full of ideas.

I am sure there are others…

If you are looking for gifts that make a difference, consider Thistle Farms and Mekong Blue…

And, if you ever need a tour of Nashville, let me know.

Here is the Help-Portrait video about the Nashville test shoot that made me cry:

Plug and suggestion for Nashvillians looking for an easy, festive, sweet, fun birthday party…

Maria celebrated her 6th Birthday at the Nashville Farmer’s Market, a truly wonderful place that reflects the diversity and spirit of this city.

A good friend owns Fleur de Lis Flavors, a New Orleans-style snowball and treat shop in the market, and another friend owns a catering company, peace love tea, with the most awesome of cupcakes. We put it all together and we got sweets and sugar-highs in a great space.

As part of the Fleur de Lis party package, the kids got unlimited snowballs in great flavors like Tiger’s Blood and Wedding Cake and Lime. They had to hit their parents up for the dinero for the gummie worms, though.  They got to run and play outside in the leaves after they were all sugared up and one-two-three, we were done.

Instead of presents, we asked for donations of dog and cat food, plus treats, for the shelter in our county, which struggles mightily with abandoned animals. We collected 203-pounds of dog food, 61 pounds of cat food, almost $100 in cash, and lots of treats and toys for the animals. Our friends are generous.

Of course, it was my idea — a way to reduce the amount of stuff that comes into the house. My mother, Abuelita, thought it was criminal to deny Maria of a gigantic pink haul. But, Maria was fully on board with it. She is proud of the mountain of animal food that is in the back of my Pilot and she’s enjoying the horse-riding and vet Barbies she got to pick out herself.

We are dropping the food off this weekend, and I expect my Birthday Girl (Oh, goodness, she is almost 6!) will even further see the good she and her friends did while they slurped up snowballs on a warm, November afternoon.

(If you’re in Nashville, and go get a snowball, I recommend the Stuffed Snowball. An orange flavor with soft serve ice cream in the middle? Oh goodness me! And, by the way, Fleur de Lis will bring the party to you in their awesome green party truck. And, if you have an adults-only Snowball party, what do you think goes great with Lime and Margarita and many other flavors? Hmmm? And furthermore, yes,  full disclaimer, I do PR consulting for Fleur de Lis.)

Look what I found while shopping for green face paint and pink sparkly false eyelashes? A Southern Girl wig. Right next to the mullet wig.

After I stopped laughing, I thought hey now, I’m a Southern Girl and I am raising a Southern Girl. We’re much classier down here these days, let me tell you.

Honestly, if you ask me, this chick is totally Jersey. I should know. I was a Jersey Girl circa 1987, when they sold 2-foot-tall hair spray cans and if the wind blew your bangs moved as a unit.

Fight’n words, I know.

This evening, we will be at a Halloween party here in The South. I will be a beautiful butterfly with glittery face. My husband refuses to go as a lepidopterologist.