Ingredients for perfect Sangria: cheap red wine, carbonation, fruit, and you
So what’s the climate like in La Paz? Well most of the year it is wonderful, a place where outdoor living is an art form.
And drinking icy-cold umbrella drinks is expected.
But my beloved likes to say we have five seasons here in Southern Baja:
- Fall
- Winter
- Spring
- Summer
- Summer Hell
And what is Summer Hell you ask? It has nothing to do with burly guys and equally as burly girls on motorcycles. It is that time at the end of summer that you northerners might call the Dog Days, but worse.
From the middle of August through September the sun is broiling, the air is thick and steamy and there is nothing to do but escape into delightful, air conditioning. The air doesn’t move, and you wish you didn’t have to either.
This is the time when just hanging in the pool with a big sombrero and an icy glass of Sangria is about as much activity as one can and should muster.
Hang in the pool wearing a big sombrero and holding an icy-cold glass of Sangria
This is the time of year when even the most casual acquaintance that lives in town and doesn’t have a pool becomes my best friend!
I am a gregarious person. And I have a gorgeous beachfront home with a pool. I love to pamper my friends. And it is a lot more fun to enjoy the pool with other people around. So tomorrow I am having the first of my summer “Salad Days at Susan’s Pool” parties. I invited 7 other women to bring a salad and come for a swim.
I am making sangria. And here is the recipe:
Wine:
– I used two bottles of a Santa Silva blend of Shiraz and Cabernet $90.00 (pesos each)
Other alcohol:
– I used 2 jiggers of Controy, this can be skipped or you can use gin, rum or Triple Sec
Carbonation:
– I used Fresca; you can use anything from plain mineral water to any flavor carbonated water or citrus soda.
Fruit:
– 2 limes
– 2 oranges
– 1 grapefruit,
– Fresh or frozen strawberries (I use frozen so they act as ice cubes and do not dilute the brew. I am not a scientific cook; I splash, dash, and dump ingredients. So use as many strawberries as fit in the pitcher or look good to you.)
– ½ pineapple (Pina Miel) or you can use canned pineapple chunks and the juice.
– 2 tablespoons of sugar or a dash of simple syrup. (See simple syrup recipe below.)
Get a big pitcher that can hold two bottles of wine. Pour in the wine. (Or use two smaller pitchers and put half the ingredients in each.)
Squeeze the juice of the two limes, two oranges and one grapefruit into the wine. Remove the seeds first! Then dump the squeezed fruit in the pitcher.
Cover the pitcher and refrigerate.
Just prior to serving add the carbonation. This is where the fun begins, add the flavored carbonation to suit your taste.
Warning:
Taste with a spoon, don’t get sloshed while preparing the sangria. Otherwise you may be a bit wobbly on your pretty flowered flip-flops with a tiny heel and drop the pitcher in the pool.
Add the frozen strawberries. Remember they act as ice cubes so let them plop into the glass as you pour.
Garnish the glasses with a lime or orange slice or even a paper umbrella.
Enjoy!
Simple syrup:
1 cup of sugar and one cup of water, boil till sugar dissolves. Let cool.
Sweeten the sangria to taste.
Yes Mexico has a drug war going on! And yes there are other kinds of murders taking place in the country.
But Mexico has beautiful beaches, lovely colonial cities, welcoming people and delicious food all waiting for you to enjoy.
When was the last time any of you “Reporters of the News” told the real story about the real Mexico?
Have you looked at a map, or presented a map of Mexico and shown your public where the problems are?
No!
Have you bothered to point out the crime statistics in Detroit? New York or Washington D.C.? Or even sunny San Jose, California? NO!
Have you bothered to tell American viewers and readers that the places they want to visit in Mexico are safe?
No!
Have you bothered to point out the the drug cartels are largely killing each other?
No!
Have you mentioned to US readers and viewers that gang violence in the US is almost uncontrolable?
No!
Have you mentioned to those same viewers and readers that they are more likely to be a victim of gang violence or other violent crime back home on Main Street then they are in Mexico?
No!
So to help you in your research- you do actually research what you write and broadcast-right? So to help you with your research, I have reprinted an article on crime statistics in Mexico and some large cities of the US. And in this article it puts crime statistics in Latin America in perspective.
What is it with you? If you don’t like Mexico, don’t visit!
And if you do visit, and this applies to everybody: don’t buy or sell drugs. Don’t go to sketchy neighborhoods, but do behave like your mother taught you and your visit to Mexico will be just wonderful.
So here is your lesson :
Mexico murder rate over stated
by Baja Daily News (BDN) – Jose Feliz on 05/21/11
Mexicans and their American neighbors are being bombarded by news of shootouts, bombings, kidnappings and executions as drug smugglers battle each other and the government for control of the narcotics trade. The American News Media give warning to stay out of Mexico it’s to dangerous to travel there.
But a closer look at the latest official statistics indicates that much of Mexico has modest murder rates. The horrific violence that is jacking up the national death toll is largely in nine of Mexico’s 31 states. Despite a wave of killings in these states, the murder rate in 2009 was still lower than it was a decade before, long before the Mexican government began a crackdown against the cartels. “If you look at history, today we have fewer murders, both in raw numbers and rates,” said Mario Arroyo, a researcher with the Citizens’ Institute for Crime Studies, a Mexico City think tank.
The statistics show that the most deadly violence is happening in northern Mexico close to the U.S. border where smuggling occurs, and in the states where marijuana and heroin are produced.
The state with the lowest murder rate is Yucatan, the Gulf of Mexico State known for its beaches and Mayan ruins. Its murder rate of 2 per 100,000 was comparable to Wyoming and Montana.
Washington, D.C.’s murder rate is nearly quadruple that of the Mexican capital, Mexico City. Washington’s murder rate was 31.4 per 100,000 people in 2008; Mexico City’s rate in 2009.
Tijuana, population 1.2 million, saw one slaying a day in 2006 and roughly two kidnappings a week. The murder rate for a city of Tijuana’s size is not huge. Some U.S. cities have a larger murder rate, including Washington, D.C., NYC and Detroit.
Detroit is the worst offender on our list of America’s most dangerous cities, thanks to a staggering rate of 1,220 violent crimes committed per 100,000 people. The number of murders in NYC so far in 2010 number 437 compared to 382 at this point in 2009. That means the murder rate has risen 15 percent, a large jump after years of a declining murder rate in the Big Apple. # 1
Despite these statistics the media continues to give warnings to stay out of Mexico. Maybe in fairness the news media should also give travel warnings for travel to Detroit, Washington D.C. or NYC.
The following are murder rates in various countries per 1,000 people:
# 1 Colombia: 0.617847 per 1,000 people
# 2 South Africa: 0.496008 per 1,000 people
# 3 Jamaica: 0.324196 per 1,000 people
# 4 Venezuela: 0.316138 per 1,000 people
# 5 Russia: 0.201534 per 1,000 people
#6 Mexico
# 24 United States
When have you last heard of travel warnings by the media to these nations? Over a million Americans now live in Mexico full time and if many of them are like myself we feel safer here then we do in many parts of the U.S. So please news media of America, cut Mexico a break, they are no different then other growing nations with many of the same growing pains.
This is where I soak in milk and honey.
Beauty may only be skin deep.
But when you have dry, itchy, and sensitive skin, it is hard to feel beautiful! And to me, new cures for dry skin sound like a siren song.
I read on the Internet that honey was curative, restorative, and soothing and a good sunburn treatment. And everything you read on the Internet is true, right?
Standing naked in my bathroom, arms outstretched, and drenched in honey, I wondered just how I was going to get through the day. I was so sticky! I could not put on clothes. If I put my arms down, they would be glued to my side. And ditto for slipping on flip-flops. Well, I couldn’t actually put on flip-flops because my feet and the bathmat were quickly becoming a bonded pair.
So how did this honey-dipped Susan come about? Here is the true tale.
Living on the beach in La Paz, Baja California Sur, has its joys, but the dry, dry climate and searing sun make it hard for me to keep cool and my skin soft and supple, not itchy and dehydrated. Added to my daily woes of dry, itchy skin, I had a sunburn that left me looking and feeling like a seared steak.
A few weeks ago on our anniversary, my beloved and I spent the day at La Concha Beach Resort in La Paz. It is an old hotel with a white sand beach lined with palapas. After a lovely, leisurely breakfast, we staked out a palapa and some lounge chairs in the sun. It was a cool, breezy day; the sun felt good. I was enjoying a book on my Kindle when I fell into a heavy, succulent sleep. Sometime later, kids, playing and screeching, woke me.
I felt hot and a little drugged by my slumber, but felt no warning tingle of sunburn.
After a dip in the clear, shallow, warm water, I retired to the shade of the palapa. Our friendly waiter, Francisco, came over with an icy-cold limonada, a wonderfully sweet and tart summer drink with no alcohol.
Limonada photo from laylita.com/recipes2008
My skin was sizzling hot and hypersensitive. Every nerve ending seemed super-charged with electricity. I took off my sunglasses, and saw the red-hot skin of a cooked pierce of meat. It was awful. I hurt; I was shivering. My skin was hot. Every inch of me was toasted. I had been wearing a wide-brimmed hat, so my chin was burned, but the rest of my face was saved. We had taken our little Chihuahua, Coco-Nut for a walk on the beach and my back was crispy as well.
Sleeping that night was torture, every move, every wisp of a breeze, anything and everything caused searing pain. I thought I was going to die. I wished I had died.
The next morning I did some research and decided on the Honey Cure.
What a mess.
You are wondering right now how I solved my dilemma.
I filled the tub with tepid water, added some milk and lowered my sticky self in the tub. The honey became bath oil; it did soothe my skin and it helped relieve the itch and reduce some of the peeling. For the next few days, I mixed honey, milk, and finely ground oatmeal into my bath water and pretended to be Cleopatra. I also cut leaves of aloe vera plants and rubbed them all over me.
Twenty days later, my skin is finally healing, and I am still using milk and honey in my bath, and mixing honey and aloe as a lotion. I wear thin gloves as I type to keep the honey-aloe mixture from dripping on my keyboard.
A little sun block SPF-50 would have saved me from this misery. I cannot begin to explain why I did not use it that day. So I have shut the figurative “barn door”, and will slather on the sun block every day.
Our darling grandson Thomas in September 2010 just before the chemo started
Thomas Elliot Fogel February 24, 2003- April 14, 2011
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there, I do not sleep
I am a 1,000 winds that blow
I am the diamond glints on snow
I am the sun on ripened grain
I am the gentle autumn rain
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled light
I am the soft star that shines at night
Do not stand at my grave and cry
I am not there; I did not die.
I found this poem online back in February when we thought that Thomas would not make it back home from MD Anderson Cancer Center in Houston.
But this brave boy bounced back and within days of almost dying, he was playing with his light saber like a true Jedi Knight.
But even the bravest knights fall, and our precious Thomas left us yeaterday at 7:00 a.m. Mountain Time, peacefully, surrounded by his mother Karrolyne, his father Avram and his brother Patrick.
Spring has sprung. Spring is in the air.
Spring is the time of year I met and married my beloved…way back in 1982.
Spring means daffodils and tulips. Soft green buds and a haze on the air of all the greening going on.
We were back in California last week. And even though there was snow on the mountains around Los Angeles, it was perfect spring weather.
A little chilly in the mornings, birds singing, grass greening, buds on trees popping. Warm in the afternoons, and as I said it felt to me like the very air was a soft, baby green.
When we lived in San Jose we had thousands of daffodils in every size and color planted in the curb strip in front of our house. That just wasn’t enough daffodils for me, so I planted some in front of my neighbor’s house.
And in the beds along the front of the house, down the side of the driveway and along the pathway from the house to my little office cottage in the back, I had tulips, tulips and more tulips.
So when we were in California we made a trip to the Mecca of food shoppers, Trader Joe’s. And what did they have at the front door? Buckets and buckets of daffodils, 10 for $1.29.
What can be more Spring like that bright yellow daffodils?
Don’t ask me why I bought only 10, but that is how many I bought. And here they are. I staged this photo in front of my daughter-in-law’s wallpaper, and added her teapot. I wanted that greeting card feeling of Spring.
And they opened slowly but magnificently, and I smiled every time I saw them.
Double mocha extra hot as served at Cafe Gourmet in La Paz
“ It’s all about the ambience for your mother…” my beloved explained to Miss Meliss when she suggested he buy me an in-home espresso machine and stop complaining about the cost of my coffee, habit…er… addiction.
What he meant was that I needed to be in a funky, trendy or even cozy café. The hiss and whine of the milk being steamed, the good music, the chatter, all added to the coffee experience for me, and still does.
“And, besides”, he said, “I would have to be the one to clean the machine…”
Notice there is a coffee maker and an espresso machine in this picture:
Tower of mini red cups, and some hand towels, a gift from a friend, she saw them and thought of me!
Over the years in the old country, my beloved would brew my coffee and ask “Which cups?” And this was a good question. Depending on the time of day, the season,( yes we have Christmas cups and mugs) and my mood, which cup my coffee was served in was important. And then there was the napkin, no plain, white, grocery store cheapies for me. No! Never! I love table linens and I also collect colorful paper goods. And my friends here in Mexico always bring me packages of pretty napkins as a gift when they travel.
My retro coffee set. This is the one we use the most while watching TV.
Here in Mexico, somehow, I have become the barrista.
”Sweetheart”, I say, “I am making coffee, do you want some?” Looong, contemplative silence. “Dearest, this is just a cup of coffee, not a life-long commitment!” His answer can be “Ok, just a little.” Or a rare definitive “Yes please.” And often, “No, not tonight.”
Four black mugs came with their own chalk for writing messages!
No matter his answer, I bring him, the appropriate cup for the time of day, with the proper napkin. And even after saying “No, thanks.” He drinks up. On many occasion after he has said no, I will be demurely sipping my coffee and reading or watching TV with him. I will put the cup down. Turn a page, and reach for my cup only to find it gone. It is in the hands of my beloved, he is sipping from my cup. This, after saying: “No thanks, no coffee for me!” So I have learned to bring him a cup.
Kaffe, Cafe, Coffee, no matter how you say it or spell it I love it!
We have “geographical“ mugs that are decorated with maps of the world and the various ways coffee is spelled in other languages. These are my favorite morning-slug mugs. I need a full, hot strong mug in the morning.
Coffee and Geography in the morning
Then there are the black mugs with a chalkboard finish, that came with chalk, and we can write sweet nothings on. And the tower of small red cups with tiny saucers. The retro white cups with rectangular saucers, and the “good” ones that go with our dinner service.
Is that coffee I smell brewing?
Coco pondering today's menu: Green Kibble, or Tequila soaked chew sticks.
Coco-Nut Ibraham Fogel our latest and darling Chihuahua has graciously posed for some photos to send you greetings of the day.
***
He is a dapper, curious and loving little guy. And just the perfect dog for us. He must be part Irish because he chose the green collar and bandana that he wears everyday! He helped to heal the holes in our hearts made by the passing of Abigail Maria Sanchez our first Chihuahua that graced our lives for 15 years. And Ms. Jennifer Lopez de Fogel, a stray who stayed with us for the last year of her life.
So when Coco-Nut came to us from the shelter, all leggy and bony, the first thing he did was lick my face.
And now his antics are a delight. He has filled out, and taken over. And he is the soothing balm for our grief-heavy souls as we suffer along with our darling Thomas.
Have a wonderful day today.
I hope you have a cat or dog to lick your face, and snuggle with when you are sad, or happy.
“What? You are moving to Mexico? Aren’t you scared?”
These were the words of frinds and family when we sold our house, had the mother of garage sales and left for points south of the border.
Befroe we left San Jose, Ca in 2000, there had been, in our upscale, vintage neighborhood, two murders. There were break ins and car thefts. There were also community picnics, and the annual San Jose Mercury News 10K run came down our street.
It was a wonderful place to lice with frinedly neighbors, cafes, and restaurants.
No one warned us about living in a dangerous place.
Yes, there is drug violence in Mexico. And most of it is fighting among the cartels, much like the Prohibition days of the 1920s.
If you are a tourist in any city in the world there are seedy places that you are warned to steer clear of.
Back in the 90’s , before they were married, my son-in-law came from South Dakota to meet my daughter. They went together to San Francisco. He was mugged.
No one at the South Dakota Secretary of State’s office put out a warning to it’s citizens not to go to San Francisco.
18 million Americans traveled to Mexico last year. did you hear about anything bad happening to them?
Where is the proof of all of this supposed crime, that cause sthe US Department of State to waen people away from an entire country. A country that welocmes tourists and has the most beautiful beaches in the world?
Where is the proof that you will be, shot or kidnapped while soaking up the sun on a white sand beach?
Watch this video and look at a map, and see where the drug related crime is and where you will most likley be visiting.
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Little boys of barely 8 years old should be in school. They should be playing with friends, riding their bikes or scooters, going to scout meetings.
They should not be in a hospital bed far from home at the end of a valiant battle with cancer.
My darling grandson Thomas has been fighting the fight since August. And is surrounded by his parents, his brother and his other grandparents at the MD Anderson Cancer Center in Houston. They live in California.
We grew up on the beach in New Jersey. And as far back as I can remember we wrote our names and the names of loved ones in the sand. So I wrote Thomas’ name with stones. The next day, back at our sandy beach I went with Coco to collect shells to frame a message to Patrick my 10-year old grandson and Thomas’ older brother. Coco was no more cooperative that day then the day before.
A few days ago I went to the beach out towards San Juan de La Costa, we have affectionately named
“ Wong Beach” after a nice man Jerry Wong that built a lovely home nearby.
This beach is great for shelling, but is not that great for writing love letters in the sand. The sand is either dry and deep or wet and rocky. There was not a stick or a feather to use as a sand pen in sight.
It was hot, and I had to do a lot of bending and reaching to find stones of the right size and color.
And in the middle of my work a busload of students descended on the beach. So my sidekick Mary stood guard over my art as I collected more stones.
And I had our new puppy, Chihuahua, Coco-nut tied by a long rope to my waist. But Coco was frightened by the sound of the waves and kept trying to run away.
After many minutes of struggling with him, I brought him back to our spot and tied him to the chair. He dug a small hole and settled in.
But the results are an act of tradition and love for my two darling grandchildren.
By Susan Klindienst Fogel
Here it is February 28th. The last day of MY month.
And what a wonderful birthday month it is has been.
I received emails, e-cards and Facebook messages on the days leading up to my birthday.
And of course there was Valentine’s Day which always kicks off the week of my big day.
My friend Kass came down from San Francisco
She brought with her my gift from my darling daughter; a Kindle.
Kass and I had a wonderful time. We swam with the gargantuan and placid whale-shark.
It was a wonderful day that started early with us suiting up in wetsuits.
Our guides were attentive, skilled, multi-lingual and good to look at as well! On the way out to the area where whale-sharks feed we encountered a young gray whale cavorting and breaching and just putting on a wonderful show for us.
Since they are a protected species we were cautioned not to touch the shark. We did not want to cause it any stress. It gently swam by us and curved around and I had to swim backward to avoid a collision. It is an amazing experience to be in the water, under the water, with a purple–polka-dotted fish that is over 30 feet long.
First you see the dorsal fin, and the distinctive shark-shaped head, then you are told to jump in, put your face in the water, and swim with a shark! Counter-intuitive.
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These sharks are not predators, they do not have teeth and they just suck up algae with their giant maw, and glide on by.
And as the captain was turning our boat back towards shore, the great shark fin was headed right for us.
We stopped, and the shark came alongside and hovered , as if posing for us. After a few moments it gave a few flicks of its tail and swam off.
Kass left on my actual birthday February 21.
Mary my closest friend here, arrived back the same day. I missed her at the airport and missed seeing her wearing a headband adorned with felt candles each one sporting a letter spelling our Happy Birthday! Sorry I missed that!
She did wear the headband again when I stopped in for coffee.
On Friday evening my beloved and were invited to dinner with our friends, well, our adopted family Ann and Fernando and their adult children Ixchel and Ruben (they built our house) and Balam and Liliana and the children of both.
And I received lovely gifts from all.
On Sunday, we met Patricia and Gordon for breakfast at La Marmolera. Patricia presented me with cut flowers and a gift.
Today Maria and I skipped our usual massage, then lunch and margaritas under a palapa at La Concha, it is just too cold. We went to breakfast at El Corazon and had a lovely time. Maria was born on February 29!
And so the day is drawing to a close, and the My month is over, it has been grand!
