My Big Fat Cuban Family: A Cuban-American Blog

The Neon Boneyard Adventure

Eric and I just got back from a really fun getaway to Las Vegas.

As you know, we go to Vegas a few times a year (because we can, and because my very favorite childhood hearthrob lives very close to there. *sigh*). And we pretty much know the place by heart. We have seen lots of great shows there and stayed at some of the best hotels. 

My big, fat, Cuban family celebrates birthdays there and there has even been a renewal of wedding vows with an Elvis impersonator. Seriously.

This last weekend we were excited to visit a place that was kind of legendary but has up to now been so far off the beaten path that we've never been able to get there. And believe me, we have tried.

It's the place where old neon goes to die.

The Neon Boneyard.

Well, technically it's now officially called The Neon Museum and they're finally getting their act together and are organizing tours (by appointment only) and turning it into an official Place To See in Vegas.

(NOTE: I added watermarks to the photos because I signed a sworn and official-looking-document in which I promised a pint of blood and my first male child - sorry, Adam! - that I would not profit in any way from these images.)

We were able to take a guided tour through the piles of rusted metal and broken lights and I was in Absolute Vegas-Nerd Heaven.

Our tour guide was extremely knowledgeable in Vegas lore which added to the fabulousness of the adventure. Although, I have to admit that because I've been going to Vegas since the 70's I recognized some of the old classic signs myself.

I dug up this old photo of me on The Strip in 1977. Notice the signs in the background.

(I have helpfully included arrows to call attention to the portions of the sign that I found at the Boneyard. And while I'm at it, what was up with all the photo paper in the 70's? It took me a ton of Photoshopping to make this image even visible! But that's not important right now.)

The Stardust happened to be my dad's favorite place to play. (Yes, I had to take it all in for just a moment.)

Isn't that just sooo accidentally cool?

Some of the history behind a few of the signs were new to me. I'm glad we had a guide to point stuff out. Who knew that the House of Lords Steakhouse at the Sahara was a regular hangout of the Rat Pack? (I know. Shut up.)

My favorite thing about the Boneyard was all the stories and history connected to the signage. I am old enough to have watched Las Vegas Blvd. (aka The Strip) change and grow over the years. So I felt a certain amount of nostalgia.

See the old lamp from the Aladdin? The diamond-shaped stars from the Stardust? See the portion of pink "feathers" from the Flamingo Hilton?

See the Uber-Nerdy Couple from California making fools of themselves among the rusted and twisted metal?

No? How about now? =D

Do you have Vegas memories to share? Tell me.

Ten years later. I will never forget.

Ten years ago at the end of September of 2011, my daughter and Amy went to New York City. 

We were there exactly two weeks after Muslim jihadists flew airplanes into the World Trade Center buildings and left a gaping hole in the New York skyline and in our collective American consciousness.

The wreckage was still smoldering and burning and the black cloud was still very visible from everywhere in Manhattan when we arrived. 

Fire fighters from all over the country and the world were there helping in the recovery efforts. Human remains were being pulled from the wreckage that day and photos were forbidden. 

The line of ambulances and coroner's wagons wrapped around the block. I remember that the crowd of us looky-loos stood there stupidly, impotently, reverently. Most of us had were teary-eyed and choking back emotion. The devastation was so much bigger in person than on our tv screens.

How could this have happened in our America?

After what seemed like the longest time, we left the scene quietly, deep in sorrow and contemplation. 

We walked all over Manhattan taking in the touristy sites that were still accessible. Marveling in the amount of volunteers that had descended upon the city. 

Then we turned a corner and came up on this makeshift altar:

It was at this spot that my emotions, which were already raw from the past two weeks, found an outlet. I didn't care that I was sobbing audibly. I didn't care because everyone around me was doing the same. 

****************************************************

Eric and I returned to Lower Manhattan in May of 2009 with Lucy and Jonathan.

They were so young when the attacks happened that we had not told them exactly what had transpired on 9/11. Now we used the words "jihad" and "terrorists" in proper context. I hated having to tell them the story. I hated participating in the theft of their innocence.

But we were also able to tell the story of true courage. Of real heroes. Of the selflessness of men running into burning buildings and of the first Americans to engage in the War on Terror on Flight 93 that ended in deaths in a field in Pennsylvania. 

We told them of the volunteers that came from everywhere to help with the clean up. And how the caps with the initials FDNY became the accessory of the day. 

This was taken in St. Paul's Chapel, which now houses most of the memorabilia from those terrible days after the attacks. 

We told them of the miracle of Trinity Church and St. Paul's chapel which remained standing while everything around them crumbled. 

During the September 11, 2001 attacks, as the 1st tower collapsed, people took refuge from the massive debris cloud inside the church. Falling wreckage from the collapsing tower knocked over a giant sycamore tree that had stood for nearly a century in the churchyard of St. Paul's Chapel which is part of Trinity Church's parish and is located several blocks north of Trinity Church. Sculptor Steve Tobin used its roots as the base for a bronze sculpture that stands next to the church today.

 

We felt patriotism and pride when we saw the Ten Truck. (Members of the FDNY Ladder Company #10.)

We touched the bronze wall of the FDNY Memorial Wall and read the 343 names of the firefighters that perished on September 11, 2001.

The wall reads:

"Dedicated to those who fell and those who carry on. May we never forget." 

We lit a candle in memory of the fallen.

Now it is 10 years later and we are 3,000 miles away. Time and distance has separated us from the horrific events of that terrible day in September.

But, I promise you, I will never forget.

"The time for mourning may pass, but the time for remembering never does." ~ George W. Bush

{To view Amy Kikita's video tribute, An MTV Generation, click here.}

Da life.

We just returned from an amazing cruise vacation in the Caribbean. 

And while our bodies are physically back home, our brains are still here:

Me & Eric in Barbados. (I think he looks like a mad scientist in his swim goggles, but that's not important right now.)

I swear, I haven't got one original thought in my head right now. I'll tell you all about it in a day or so.

Getting back to reality after being in such beautiful and relaxing surroundings is kind of hard for me. Not to mention that I've got mountains of laundry to tackle.

So, I'll just be taking my time sorting through photos and reliving the magic to the sound of the spin cycle on my dryer. ;-)

Did you take a vacation this summer? Staycation? Tell me.

The Summer House

My friend, Jana blogs over at The Summer House. It's called the Summer House because she loves the simplicity of living in a summer beach rental-type atmosphere where everything is clean, decluttered, and ready for fun.

She lives out her philosophy of simple living beautifully. And I'm always impressed and inspired by her. 

Internets, meet Jana...

I, of course, am just the opposite. My house is messy and cluttery in an artistic-A.D.D.-hyper-collector sort of way.

In spite of those differences, we are great friends and we manage to carve out a couple of hours for coffee at least once a week throughout the year and a once-a-week beach day through the summer. 

Meanwhile, back at the Summer House......

I started this post telling you about Jana, because we rent a beach house for a long, relaxing week every summer. Because of her inspiration, we have taken to calling it The Summer House. (Don't sue me, please, my friend. Thanks.) 

The house itself is bright and airy, with a big kitchen and lots of couches for lounging and a big patio that's perfect for cookouts and surfboards or in our case drying beach towels.

Our Summer House is only about an hour's drive south from us, in San Diego county. A mere 238 steps to the beach. With the best sand imaginable for sand castle building.

Or expressing ourselves artistically. This is Art.... ;-)

Even though the house is pretty roomy, and we have space for lots of people to hang out, we don't have as many comfortable sleeping surfaces. So we invited friends to come and be with us and just scheduled their visits on different days.

It worked out quite nicely for the first few days, with friends popping in for a morning or afternoon.

And the sun cooperated on some days, but not on others.

Still it was relaxing and fun to just “be” with whoever was available for the day.

I loved the quiet moments in between visitors when I could just sit and read and watch my kids playing in the sand. (Much like I did when they were little. Go figure.)

The ocean was soothing and oh, so healing. And we all were so in need of a rest and the respite that comes from serious playing.

Or just doing nothing. We did a lot of nothing. As often as possible.

Some of our young friends came to celebrate Lucy's 18th birthday, which meant there were more mouths to feed.

For breakfast:

Lunch:

And dinner:

And I appreciate that all of her and Jon's friends are fun and easy to be with.

And are always ready to cooperate with me when I have a camera in my hand, which is most of the time, but that's not important right now. ("Quick, put on these disguises!")

Our time spent in the Summer House also reminds me of my childhood summers in Cuba, which were spent in Varadero, always with a houseful of friends and family. We would get to the beach as early as possible and put off eating because of the 3-Hour Rule (that's me on the right with the mop of uber-curly hair standing behind my trusty Duck Life-saver).

I hope my kids have the same happy memories that I do of the Limited Communal Summer Living Experience (LCSLE?).

It pleases me to think that they will indeed.

 

P.S. Thanks, Jana, for the Summer House inspiration. =D 

Cooking With the Troops or Meet Team Cubanaso

I have spent the last three days thinking about what I want to say about our experience in San Antonio and Cooking With the Troops.

My family has talked and talked and rehashed almost every detail of our weekend, multiple times. And I'm still at a loss for words to describe all that we experienced. I'm just going to post lots of photos and try to give you a feel for what we experienced.

When I first received the invitation to join Cooking With the Troops in Texas in July, I didn't hesitate before I agreed. I can think of no higher honor than doing what I do best to say thank you to those who have sacrificed everything for my personal freedom.

I don't have photos of the troops we served because so many of those that we met over the weekend gave up their limbs and a normal life so we could continue to enjoy the freedoms that we do. Many were waiting for prosthetics. The Warrior and Family Support Center is a beautiful home-like healing facility with an air conditioned kitchen (Thank you, God!). I was grateful that we could be there to do this one act of charity for these, our best and bravest.

They are absolutely heroes and it was our great pleasure to serve them. What an honor!

But let me tell you about the Amazing Volunteers (or Team Cubanaso):

The first thing I want you to know about these people, (including my own family) is that when asked if they were interested in doing this, (San Antonio, Texas in July, people!) not one of them hesitated. "Of course. What can I do?" And that was the attitude that carried through the entire weekend.

The guys from Dos Cubanos Pig Roasts (Texas, you are sooo lucky!) brought their expertise, four pigs, and their families. (Yay! More Cubans!) I think that might just have to be a separate post altogether. (Go "like" them on Facebook right now, please.)

Pig Roasting is their specialty, but Joey Lay and Jorge Carmona were able and willing to help in the kitchen as well. (Yes, that's Jonathan working on his professional photo-bombing skills, but that's not important right now.)

Val from Babalú was there knee deep in Cajas Chinas and pig fixins.

Because this was a service to the military, they named him Point Man on the Pigs. He proved more than capable in his role (thank you, Val and Caja China people)! They started preparing the coals at 5 am.

By 9:00 am, it was time for the Pig Flip.

The pigs were done by 10:30. And the aroma went out in a cartoon-like-smoke-with-a-beckoning-hand and by 11:00 the guys were gathering around to get their first taste of the lechón asado, Cuban-style.

Once the pigs were done, Val came in to help Adam and Jon cut (more!) onions & garlic for the mojo for the yuca.

Our menu? A typical Nochebuena feast:

We spent all of Thursday and most of Friday morning prepping for our Friday lunch. Which meant cutting pounds and pounds of onion, garlic, and peppers for the Sofrito Que Se Le Perdio a Santa Barbara (as my mom would say).

We had 3 vats (VATS!) of Black Beans that turned out delicious thanks to the hard work by Val and Amy Kikita and the generosity of Conchita Foods. At this point, the aroma from the sofrito, the beans and the pigs had people wandering hungrily into the kitchen, which was great.

There was a lot of fun and camaraderie happening in the kitchen, along with a lot of hard work. (We Cubans would call it "relajo." =D)

Chef Ellen Adams of Red Hot Dish was responsible for dinner that night (couscous!) and Heather Solos of Home-Ec 101 was everywhere you wanted her to be. Both of these amazing women were so willing to lend a helping hand, and always with a smile. (When I grow up, they are who I want to be.)

Here's Jonathan helping with Ellen's fabulous couscous.

My family fell in love with these guys (yes, even you, Mike Russo!) and I'm pretty sure the feeling was mutual.

I can't stress enough how every one of these volunteers pitched in wherever they were needed. We worked hard and long and shoulder to shoulder. And we bonded. We bonded in that gosh-that-was-exhausting-work-and-more-fun-than-it-should-be way. Every single person had that "What can I do?" attitude.

Let me just take a moment to talk about my kids.

Thing one: I was so happy they were all able to go on this trip. And I had all four of them with me all weekend - win!

Thing two: They all surprised and amazed me with how willing they were to step up and do whatever was required. What began as helping-mom-do-her-thing became a labor of love for them individually. I loved that they took ownership of the preparations themselves.

Thing three: No way would I have been able to prepare my share of the food without my family. I am completely at a loss. They went way above and beyond any expectations I had and I'm completely grateful and oh, so proud of them all.

Let me introduce you to Jorge, who managed the beautiful Warriors & Family Support Center at Fort Sam Houston. He is Puerto Rican and provided us with our music while we worked (and managed to locate some espresso for us Cubans). In fact, it was a little emotional prepping all this Cuban food with support from Celia, Beny, and Willy. ;-) Thank you, Jorge! (He was still gushing about the amazing food we provided as we were saying our goodbyes.)

I was quite proud that I managed (with lots of help) to prepare 300 of my famous Homemade Pastelitos de Guayaba.

Although the volume was obviously much, much greater than anything I ever make, I felt like I was feeding my own family. I know it sounds corny, but with every dish we felt that same way. Like we were feeding family. (Maybe that's why everything tasted so great?)

But then there was the fiasco with the rice, because really, could everything go perfectly smoothly when you're making lunch for these many people?

I confess that I had no clue how to make rice for 250 people (300 was the final count.). So Adam and I winged it and we got some rice that was cooked on top but hard on the bottom. We also managed to burn some. At 10:30, with the 12:00 deadline looming, the rice was a mess and I was close to having a breakdown.

Jorge Carmona's family to the rescue! They had done congris before at a pig roast event and had encountered the same problems. "Just take small batches, add water, and cook in the microwave." Without hesitation, they stepped up and did just that and rescued the rice. I don't think I could be more grateful. What's better than having a Cuban cook in the kitchen? LOTS of Cuban cooks in the kitchen. ;-)

Amazingly, we Cubans managed to get the food out and on the tables at 12:00 military time. This is quite a feat when you usually run on Cuban time. =D

The warriors and their families came through the line and even though the food was foreign for many of them, they ooh-ed and aah-ed and came back for seconds and dove right into the yuca con mojo and the plantains (Thanks, Goya Foods!) without a second thought.

I was most pleased when the guys with the Hispanic surnames came through. They recognized the music. They recognized the food. "Is that guava??" And they were grateful for this "little piece of home."

Much gratitude to the CEO of Cooking With the Troops, Blake Powers who pulled us all together for this amazing experience and gave us the opportunity to serve. Thank you, Blake and cwtt.org. We have all been forever changed by this experience.

And to Mr. Bob Miller, Chief Cook and Bottle Washer and All Around Classy Guy.

I thank you all for the privilege of serving side-by-side with you.

I don't have words to express the gratitude and admiration I feel for the volunteers, the warriors and their families. Thank you all for your service.

Let it be known that we Cubans are very proud Americans.

(cross-posted on Babalú blog)

More on this event also posted at Blackfive and Home-Ec 101.

The Hawk Walk

Last Sunday was Eric's birthday. And rather than add more stuff that-he-doesn't-need-or-want to his life, I had asked him if there was anything that he had always wanted to do, but had not taken the time.

"I've always wanted to see how hawks are trained," he said.

*quickly Googles hawk training*

There's a place in Marysville called West Coast Falconry that does just that. Marysville, however, is almost 500 miles away from us, somewhere up near Sacramento.

Coincidentally, Adam lives up near there...

ROAD TRIP!

Adam (25), Eric (umm...older), Jonathan (15).

We quickly decided that Jonathan would accompany Eric and the three of them would enjoy a Manly-Man Weekend.

I can't even begin to tell you how great it was for me to know that the three of them were together and playing and enjoying each other's company.

Eric and Jonathan got to spend time seeing where Adam lives and works and reported back that he's doing very well. I love how they all love each other and get a kick out of being together.

Road Trip from Marta Darby on Vimeo.

And yes, they did go on the Hawk Walk, too.

They got to wear that Really Cool Heavy Leather Bird Glove Thing (it probably has a special name, but I'm sure I don't know what that is, but that's not important right now). The hawk they got to play with was Mariposa and she would come when called and eat food out of their hands. As Jon would say, "Epic!"

In Eric's words, "It was like walking a dog, but way cooler."

My husband got exactly what he wanted for his birthday and my boys...well, I'm pretty sure they got much, much more.

Happy Birthday, Honey!

Hello, December.

I love going to new places and trying new things. I also love going to old places and doing thing I've done before, but that's not important right now. ;-)

When December rolls around, I always look forward to having holiday-type experiences. Sometimes those include plays or movies or Disney Magic.

But yesterday, I had the happy privilege of being invited to enjoy Tea by the Sea at the Getty Villa in Malibu.

First of all, the Getty Villa itself is a magical place. And it just so happened that it was a perfectly beautiful, cool and clear California evening. 

We stepped over the threshold (with our right foot first - in keeping with the Roman custom - for good luck) and into Rome in the First Century A.D.

In the past, I've taken my kids to the Getty and we revelled in uber-geekiness. But, as you know, they are in school these days, (*insert sad face here*) so I invited my good friend, Jana (editor of The Summer House and The Homeschool Jungle blogs).

We were treated to a tour of the authentically recreated first-century Roman gardens.

After the amazing tour, we were ushered up to the beautiful Founder's Room to enjoy Tea by the Sea, a special experience inspired by the herbs, vegetables, and fruits that grow in this beautiful replica of a first century Roman garden.

Is there anything I love more than a beautifully set and laden table? Okay, there are lots of things that I love, but this was truly lovely. Scones, people! And clotted cream and jam! Freshly made by their executive chef on the premises.

And then......Tiers of Culinary Amazingness...

At the bottom of which was hidden Mrs. Garrett's Carrot Cake of Awesomeness. (Okay, well...I kind of added the "...of Awesomeness" part, but that's not important right now, either.)

{NOTE ABOUT - Tea by the Sea and Mrs. Garrett's famous carrot cake: Tea by the Sea was inspired by the Villa's authentically recreated first-century Roman gardens—and by visitors' fond memories of the Villa's beloved Tea Room, which closed in 1997. In a further tribute to early days of the Museum, the menu features Mrs. Garrett's carrot cake, made by our pastry chef from the personal recipe of Jean Garrett, the late wife of the Museum's first director, Stephen Garrett.}

And because I want to share the entire experience with you (you know that I love you, right?) here's the recipe:

Mrs. Garrett's Original Carrot Cake

• 1 1/2 cup corn oil
• 2 cups sugar
• 3 eggs
• 2 cups flour
• 2 tsp. cinnamon
• 2 tsp. baking soda
• 2 tsp vanilla
• 1 tsp. salt
• 2 cups shredded carrots
• 1 cup chopped walnuts
• 1.2 cup crushed pineapple

1. Combine oil, sugar, eggs, flour, cinnamon, soda, vanilla, salt, carrots, walnuts and pineapple in a large bowl.
2. Mix until blended.
3. Pour into a greased 9 x 13 inch pan and bake at 350 degrees for 1 hour.
4. Ice with cream cheese icing.

Cream Cheese Icing:

• 3 oz. pkg. cream cheese
• 1 1/4 cup confectioners sugar
• 1/2 cup butter
• 1/8 cup crushed pineapple
• 1.4 cup chopped walnuts

Mix cream cheese, sugar and butter until fluffy. Add pineapple and walnuts. Mix well.

You're welcome. =D

And thanks, Jana, for sharing the day with me.

It was the absolutely most perfect way to say, "Hello, December."

I Parranda and I Do Laundry - Multi-tasking the Cuban Way

I'm still recovering from my The Traumatic Thwarting of My Trip Home by the POTUS.

Thank you all for your concern. I'm definitely home now and back to my real life which includes laundry and laundry and more laundry and I have some videos I have to edit - in between loads of laundry.

I'll tell you all about Blogalicious Weekend and what I did and the cool places I got to stay in and my visit to the Palacio de Los Jugos....next week.

Remember my ¡Parranda! shoes? I totally got to wear them at the Que Rica Vida sponsored ¡Parranda! Party and I wrote all about that over at the Tiki Tiki today. Click here to read that story and watch the video.

Carrie & Me at the !Parranda! Party

In my mind I am still in Parranda mode, so while I'll be doing my best to scale Mt. Washmore* I'll definitely be moving my Cuban butt self to the delicious sounds of Celia Cruz.

You can take the Cuban girl out of Miami.... ;-)

(*H/T Flylady)

I'm Baking With Betty (don't try to stop me!)

So, I'm in Minneapolis, Minnesota.

I'll be here for a few days.

Where will I be spending my time, you ask?

I'll be in the BETTY CROCKER KITCHENS!!! (<--Yes, that was a noisy burst of nerdy enthusiasm.)

I'll be Baking With Betty. (Along with a group of bloggers also invited by General Mills, but that's not important right now....)

I'm so excited about getting to cook and learn and play (!) in the kitchens. The Kitchens. (*insert angelic chorus here*)

Of course, I'll tell you all about it and take lots of pictures.

Hmm....I wonder if Betty knows about the perfection of Cuban tastiness that is my homemade pastelitos de guayaba?

I'll keep you posted. ;-)

Seeing worlds in a grain of sand...

As you know, my childhood summers always involved the beach somehow. From the perfection that is Varadero to the surf in Santa Monica, every summer that I can recall was spent at the beach.

Of the many happy beach memories I have, however, one trumps them all.

I still remember the magical moment when my dad filled my plastic bucket with the perfect ratio of wet-to-dry sand, turned it upside down, tapped it a few times with his palm and then pulled it up.

Voilá! A Sand Castle! Ay Dios mio!! Pure magic!! (<--The double exclamation points are used to convey my excitement and on-going fascination with the still-to-this-day amazing process.)

When I had kids of my own, I couldn't wait to show them this same bit of beach magic. I remember watching their faces intently and sharing their excitement as they quickly grabbed the bucket to make this magic happen for themselves.

Fast forward to last week while we were on vacation....

While waiting for the surf to be up and being thwarted from playing beach games by the strategically placed flags on the beach, (see this post for clarification) we had to find another method of amusing ourselves.

Sand castles have come a long way since my childhood. It has now evolved into an art called Sand Sculpturing.

It turns out that the sand in Del Mar was Designed by God Himself for the express purpose of making exquisite Sand Creations.

So the boys started by creating a basic pyramid shape. This involved a lot of digging to get the right amount of sand to build up that pyramid-y base. Plus it took hours of concentration and work. (The really good kind of fun-work that happens when you're super focused on a task.)

 

Then while Eric cut away layers on the original pyramid, Jonathan created a little Egyptian village with its very own obelisk and Sphinx. (No, really...it gets way nerdier than this, I promise.)

 

Encouraged by the positive feedback (and personal pride) from their first attempt at sand sculpture, the next day, they went on to dig a wider perimeter and created a Sphinx.

 

Jon added detail to the face. (Yes, he first added a nose and then broke it off, but that's not important right now.)

Inspired by their sculpting success and the ease of sand manipulation, they ventured off to try other creations.

 

Reminiscent of Eric's first car. Pretty sweet ride, right?

 

Sometimes the creating just devolved into sand-stacking fun.

Finally, emboldened by his ability to make the sand bow to his will, Jonathan pulled out all the stops and went for creating The Great Pit of Carkoon*.

[*Explanatory note from Wookieepedia - The Star Wars Wiki: The Great Pit of Carkoon was located within the Dune Sea on the planet Tatooine. The large depression in the sand was the home of the rapacious, if slow-eating, sarlacc of Tatooine. Its proximity to Jabba's Palace, paired with the torturous death provided by the sarlacc, made it an ideal spot for executions to be carried out for Jabba the Hutt's pleasure. It would be the place of the Skirmish at Carkoon, and the subsequent death of Jabba.] <--But all you uber-geeks like us already knew that. =D

 

What was I doing? Mostly just sitting there shouting directions:

"This side needs to be built up more."

"Add some more suction cups."

"That tentacle needs more detail."

It took a while for them to realize that I was just sitting there "dirijiendo." Basically, I sat in my chair, under my umbrella and flag (!) telling them what to do (like the good, bossy Cuban mother that I am), while they were sweating and sculpting in the hot sun. (The Pharaoh to Israelite correlation was not lost on me, but that's not important right now.)

They never uttered a word of protest, but by the end of the day, Jonathan managed to convey his true feelings...

 

=D