New Mexico Part 2: Sazon

Click here for Part 1.

Food can be nourishment, and food can be pleasing, and food can be fun. On my visit to New Mexico last month, an evening at Sazon in Santa Fe was a course of curious adventures and a chance to peek around each corner in wonder and delight at what new flavors might come up next. Chef Fernando Olea takes traditional Mexican cuisine and molds it and gives it flourish so as to create a unique effect.

Our adventure began with tiny tortillas and coin-sized circles of four different moles. A good tortilla is already enough to get me excited, though of course in this case it's the mole that's the center of attention. The tasting makes for a conversation piece for the table as everyone shares their favorite of the four. My favorites were the green (as my preference is generally for green) and the orange one, which was made with fruit and white chocolate and reminded me of a sweet empanada. If you order an entree with mole, this is also your chance to be sure that you choose the mole you personally like best. 

My beverage was the Sazonrita, which came with a red chile salt rim. For appetizers, we had the Xochimilco, the Oaxaquenos, and the squash blossoms. The latter were a pleasant surprise as they weren't on the regular menu. These were not the first squash blossoms I've had, but they were definitely my favorite. Even with the batter, you could still taste the light squash flavor of the blossoms. 

I decided that Sazon would be the best place for the Oaxaquenos, which are baby grasshoppers with olive oil, garlic citrus, and chile de arbol on a corn tortilla with avocado. I've only had crickets in chocolate before (here's the link to that review), so this was going to be a bit different. But again, if you're going to try something that feels a little strange, it's nice to taste them in a place where you know things are prepared well. So yes, it's visibly a grasshopper taco, but the taste is nothing strange. In fact, though, I also didn't find an abundance of layered flavor here. So I preferred the squash blossoms. 

The Xochimilco is corn truffle also on tortillas. This was the most beautiful of the three on the plate with a colorful flower to accompany each serving. Because we ordered three appetizers, they were also a chance, like with the mole, to compare everyone's favorite. 

My entree was the Berenjena, which is a stuffed eggplant with zucchini, corn, tomato, and gruyere. Though it looks petite in the picture, in person it was sizable. Though an entree is generally the heavier element of a dinner, it worked out nicely for me that the vegetables made for a lighter dish given that it was just one in a series of things that I ate. 

Because by this point I had found faith in the cuisine, I decided to have the signature dessert, the Dolce Sinfonia. Avocado ice cream with jalapeño beet puree and piñon nuts, like the chapulines (grasshoppers), sounded adventurous compared with what I normally eat. But goodness was this dessert intriguing. The chef likes to play with hot and cold and with texture and development of flavor, and this dessert showcases that style. The texture of the ice cream is slightly different from typical ice cream; it's fluffier and more substantial somehow while also seeming not as cold. There is initially avocado flavor, and the touch of spice develops in so that each bite is a layer of flavor. Though this isn't a traditionally sweet dessert, the beet adds in a hint of sweetness, as does the decorative sugar piece. As I ate it, I pictured it to be just an intriguing dessert to try, and yet I have found myself craving it since then. It was the perfect finish to the evening. 

Sazon's reputation is well-deserved. You will receive not only excellent food but an entire adventure of flavor. The food is the destination and the journey. 

Click here for Part 3.

Red Earth

Sometimes the word "poetry" does not fall off the tongue well. To say that I like reading poetry sounds odd, like something I wouldn't want to admit--or like a phrase that doesn't quite convey what I might mean if I were to say that. The thing is, poetry is so personal, more so than prose. There are so many forms and approaches that poetry can take, so tastes in poetry vary just as much as (if not more than) tastes in novels.

I'm settling into what kind of poetry I like, and so I am having less difficulty in saying the word "poetry." In college, I favored the Romantics (I still love to pick up my Complete Works of John Keats when I need to read his words), and now I favor the poetry of the Southwest. In April I read Clara Emily Guión Aguirre's The Poplar Tree and in May I read Ofelia Zepeda's Where Clouds Are Formed and now I have just finished Alice Corbin's Red Earth. I picked this one up at the museum shop at the Palace of the Governor's in Santa Fe.

What is, first thing, interesting to note when considering these three poetry collections in the same sentence is the difference in the writer's backgrounds. Aguirre and Zepeda were/are both from the Southwest. Corbin moved to New Mexico in 1916 as an adult for her health--and then quite fell in love with the region and its peoples. Though she became an advocate for preserving and encouraging the local arts, she was a "white" newcomer. This makes her approach to her poems significantly different from Aguirre's and Zepeda's.

Because of all of this background, you will definitely want to read Lois Rudnick's Introduction to this reprint of Red Earth. She talks about Alice's life and her influence on literature and on Santa Fe. She also gives some interpretation on the poetry and discussion of context and certain "complications" that arise when an outsider attempts to represent a culture. Perhaps I shouldn't say outsider, but that's the simple way of putting it: Alice Corbin seemed to really appreciate the lives and cultures of the people she met in Santa Fe. From them, she gained a new perspective and a new way of looking at life.

She conveys these discoveries within this poetry collection. The tone, I would say, isn't quite as soft as Aguirre's, nor as sacred as Zepeda's. But these poems do also contain appreciation and gratefulness for what the earth and life offer. As Rudnick points out, there are various styles in the different poems. Because Corbin had spent so much time in modern literature before moving to the Southwest, she's able to bring a certain style to the familiar places and imagery that you don't usually come across in this context. So she definitely offers something a little different from what I had grown used to finding in Southwestern poetry.

That's about all I have to say for now. Lois Rudnick did such a wonderful job of highlighting the important pieces or lines in this book that I feel like I don't have much to add. I'll just say that my appreciation for this book also grew as I read about Alice's life and opinions. She had a great influence on the art scene and on the preservation of local New Mexican culture. New Mexico is such an inspiring place because of the land but also because there is some preservation and continuation of what people created there and from there. The history of New Mexico is . . . the history of life. The land is life, in all of its circles.

Joliesse Chocolates: Abundantia Lavender Caramel

Now that I've finished going through all the truffles I brought back from Santa Fe, I'm starting in on the chocolate bars. First up is a flavored one from the gift shop at El Rancho de las Golondrinas, which is a great spot on the outskirts of Santa Fe for a visit. This chocolate, however, is not made in Santa Fe; it is from the nearby Albuquerque. Given that I usually don't spend any time in Albuquerque and therefore have not bothered to look up chocolate shops there, I hadn't heard of Joliesse Chocolates before. But this chocolate passed the ingredients test (no to fillers or artificial junk, yes to real cream and vanilla), which usually bodes well.

The gift shop, presumably, chose to carry this particular chocolate because of the lavender. Not only is lavender very Santa Fe, but the ranch also has a lavender festival each year. So it is fitting. But after the wonderful lavender caramel truffle from Chocolate + Cashmere, would this one still satisfy?

It turns out, naturally, that this is a very different experience. It's more casual and straightforward and the lavender flavor is a bit different, as well.

Abuntantia, the back of the wrapper tells me, is the goddess of the harvest and plenty (cuisine, essentially), with lavender being an important part of cuisine since Roman times. It is a pretty wrapper, with Abundantia's image and a purple background. The chocolate bar is pretty, too, though it had some bloom to it. Again, I can't say if this formed after I purchased the chocolate or after; but as it's merely aesthetic, it isn't a big deal either way.

I'm not sure if you can tell from pictures, but this is quite a thick bar, probably double or so the thickness of a regular chocolate bar. It's also square in shape. The overall feel makes it seem quite solid and big, though it's a standard 60 grams. Once again, a possible product of time spent traveling: there as some caramel already leaking out of the chocolate when I unwrapped it.

As soon as you bite into the chocolate, the lavender strikes you. It's the fruity and citrusy type of lavender, rather like a Lavender Earl Grey tea. I perhaps prefer the more floral lavender flavor of the aforementioned truffles, but that could be a personal preference.

While the lavender is quite a strong flavor, you do get to taste the chocolate as well because you have two thick layers of it, top and bottom with the caramel in the middle. This must be the reason, after all, why the chocolate is so thick. This is a fairly standard decent dark chocolate (it's a 70% cocoa content). No flavor notes, really, nor either bitterness or sweetness. Just chocolate flavor. I'd compare it to Ghirardelli.

It's a good chocolate but not a "wow" chocolate. The right thing to pick up and eat right away, as fits in best at the gift shop where I found it. It would be nice for sharing, if the caramel didn't make it messy. So you'll just have to get one all to yourself. It is a little pricey at $6.50, especially if you're not sharing. But you know what, the chocolate is good quality and so is the caramel, and there's a price for all that--and this is a fairly big bar of chocolate.

Chocolate + Cashmere: Truffles

Before I left to Santa Fe, I spent a minute re-familiarizing myself with the streets on Google Maps: though I've been there a few times, it had been about six years since my last trip. I happened on a shop name by the Plaza that I almost couldn't believe: Chocolate + Cashmere. Could it be? Could it really be? Not just some catchy name, either, but a shop that really sells both chocolate and cashmere? It sounds like a dream--a sweet dream.

Really, what could be more elegant?

The shop is quite elegant in setup as well as concept. It's very Santa Fe with its chic combination of simplicity, quality, comfort, and timeless beauty. Even the woman working in the shop was chic and elegant.

As you walk in, the first thing you see is a glass case of truffles in the middle of the first small room. Quite the greeting. A wall to the right houses shelves of chocolate boxes, and the opposite wall has some of the shop's clothing. A small table displays their goat mascot and logo because, of course, the cashmere comes from goats. Not just any cashmere, either; they explain how they use only the finest wool. They source in Scotland but make the materials right in Santa Fe. Their clothing is designed to last through both the wear and the trends, which is a philosophy of perfection to me.

There are two more small rooms with more cashmere clothing, everything from sweaters and gloves and scarves to hats and socks. While most of what you see is for women, there are men's items, as well. If I lived in Santa Fe, this is where I would shop for my winter wardrobe.

But you want to know about the chocolates, right?

While there were a couple of chocolate bars for sale, I was more interested in the truffles. They're made locally. You can choose individual pieces or put them together in a box. We ended up sharing a box of twelve; four are mine.

The box is equipped with one of those trays to keep the truffles from bumping one another. Trays are never the most elegant, but I'm sure it makes things quicker for the shopkeeper (who has to manage both chocolate and clothing) and helps keep them safe for all of the people who are traveling (Santa Fe has, of course, lots of tourists).

The truffles look nice in a standard way. There is a little bit of bloom on some of them, though I'm not positive if it was there in the shop or if it just appeared on the car ride back home. (Let's face it, it's hard keeping chocolate safe while driving from New Mexico to Arizona. And I didn't want to either eat or review the truffles while I was out there.) Honestly, the four truffles I picked out aren't the best-looking bunch in the box. I also took a picture of four of the others for comparison.

I'll just go one by one now.

Basic Dark - A good opportunity to judge a chocolate, plain truffles allow you to taste the chocolate without distractions from other flavors. The shape of nice flat sure suggests caramel, though it simply has a standard ganache inside. The taste is like cocoa powder: fairly medium darkness and fairly sweet with twinges of a muddy sort of bitterness. It's a similar flavor to the mass-produced Belgian dark chocolates that get thrown at us. I mean, it's good: the ganache is nice and smooth and rich in texture. But I wanted it to be better; this is pretty standard and not terribly exciting.

Pecan Truffle - This one came in a little dome shape with multiple surfaces. A crumbly top center made it rather messy to cut into. The light crunch is, surprisingly, similar to that of a Crunch bar. I don't think it's due to crisped rice, however; it's just that the pecans are so finely chopped. There is some salt in there, as well, which is quite a nicely placed touch, fresh and clean. There is a hint of caramel flavor. But I don't really taste the pecans, which is a disappointment given that this chocolate is named for the pecans. The dark chocolate is the same as with the previous truffle. So really the most interesting aspect is the unique texture, not so much the flavor.

Goat Cheese - I had to at least try this one, for two reasons: it isn't a flavor you come across often and the goat is the store's mascot. When cutting this round truffle open, you'll see almost the same inside as with the Basic Dark, except perhaps that it is slightly redder. The taste is likewise redder and warmer--and then you get that full on goat taste. I can't describe it: you just have to know what I mean. Goat cheese has its own animal flavor and it's strong here. I'd say it goes well with the chocolate and the two blend well and that somehow makes the chocolate taste better--but I don't really like it. I would need another element to balance out the goat cheese flavor. That said, there is nothing weird about the texture, which had been a concern of mine. So by all means, try it out, and if you like goat cheese, you'll like this truffle. Maybe try smaller pieces to start, or pair it with wine and toasted almonds; treat it fancy.

Lavender Sea Salt Caramel - A pretty one painted in purple, I chose this one because Santa Fe does much with lavender and while I have had lavender in chocolate before, I don't think I've come across this exact combination. The caramel (inside dark chocolate once again) is free-flowing. Does it taste like the lavender I sought? Oh, yes, most definitely. Fresh and floral and tangy, the lavender is spot-on. It comes first, then you get the pure sweetness of the caramel and a hint of salt (not overdone), and then you have the chocolate left in your mouth. The perfection of this one almost makes me wish I had chosen more caramels. This is definitely my favorite of the four. It captured the lavender perfectly and really set a scene and atmosphere. Really well done.

The verdict? I guess it just depends on what you're seeking and what you choose. I'd highly recommend the Lavender Sea Salt Caramel, and I think most people will enjoy the Basic Dark. They also have more Southwest-inspired flavors, like Pecan Chile and Goat Cheese Raspberry Ancho Chile (which I didn't get because I've finally been able to admit to myself that I just don't like chili chocolates). Go and pick out a couple just for the excuse to go into the store: it's a great shop.

They also have a mural on the side of the building:

Discoveries in Santa Fe: Opera

While I do enjoy culture, I don't know if I can say that I am particularly cultured. And yet perhaps that is the reason why I appreciate culture the way that I do. When certain things are new to me, I can either discover them on my own or have my own personal experience with them when I do finally get to experience them. My favorite example: I read Jane Eyre and started connecting with it well before I heard anyone talk about the book or its author or even knew that "Victorian novels" were their own group.

I went to a few plays as a child--probably mostly smaller productions designed for families. But the big one that made me love the idea of plays was Pygmalion by the Southwest Shakespeare Company when I was in high school. Ever since then, I've just really enjoyed the few opportunities I've had to see live productions. I always wish I could see more.

Now, I've been to Santa Fe a few times, but a recent trip I made there was the first time I was able to visit the Santa Fe Opera. We watched Don Giovanni, which I chose because the music is by Mozart and I tend to enjoy Mozart's music (and also because the language is Italian, which feels fairly familiar, which I thought would help make it easier to connect with the music and the story). And oh, my goodness, I had never experienced anything like this before.

I was a little worried going into the first act: though I've always been used to classical music, opera singing is something different. Another level, if you will. I was worried I wouldn't be able to connect with it or that my attention would just wander. Sure, it can take a second to get used to, but it felt surprisingly natural, considering I've never really listened to much opera ("O Mio Babbino Caro" and songs like that don't count the way most classical artists sing them).

The Santa Fe Opera is a half outdoor venue. That is, you enter from the outside, going up steps or through doorways to your section. The two levels of seats and the stage are covered by a ceiling and there are walls to the stage and to a little bit of the seating area but otherwise the sides are open--as is what would be the back wall or background to the stage. As the evening went on, there was some lighting off to the right in the distance, which rather added to the experience. Most people bring a wrap or a sweater because it usually cools off (the show starts at 8:30 and ends close to midnight), but we happened to go on a warm night so it never cooled off (I overheard people saying they had been going there for years and had never seem it so warm).

Attire is varied and there is no dress code but most people dress up. I wore a plain black dress (just below the knee, A-line skirt), a frilly cameo necklace, and tan leather wedges. That outfit fit in perfectly. Comfortable shoes and clothing somewhere between business casual and evening wear. Not a single stiletto in sight but plenty of class. Since I live in an area where people don't really dress up, it was a delight to see everyone so nicely put together.

And the opera itself. The lyrics are, of course, translated on tiny screens on the back of the chair in front of you. This helps immensely and I can't imagine watching without this. The lyrics being in Italian, I did catch a few words here and there--but not much. One thing I had wondered about an opera is how much of it looks like acting and how much just plays like singing. What kind of performance is it? Well, a little bit of both, I guess. There was no talking and yet it wasn't as if the actors were simply singing dialogue: they were performing one song after another (to live music, no less, which is a treat in itself). And they don't just stand there and sing; they move as the characters would move and they interact with one another and walk around the stage and all of that. So you are watching a plot unfold, but it's (in the case of this one, at least) a plot engrained in emotion.

It's like the performers are brewing emotion on the stage and it's pouring out into the audience, a tangible tone that envelops you and holds your senses captive. They were a wonderful set of performers and of course Mozart's music was wonderful, as well. I'll say it again: I had never experienced anything like that. Pure emotion, pure art, pure performance--the opera.