Nobody has written a memorable poem on the mesquite. Yet the mesquite has entered into the social, economic, and aesthetic life of the land; it has made history and has been painted by artists. In the homely chronicles of the Southwest its thorns stick, its roots burn into bright coals, its trunks make fence posts, its lovely leaves wave. To live beside this beautiful, often pernicious, always interesting and highly characteristic tree—or bush—and to know nothing of its significance is to be cheated out of a part of life. It is but one of a thousand factors peculiar to the Southwest and to the land’s cultural inheritance. (J Frank Dobie, Guide to Life and Literature of the Southwest, 1952)
[Mesquite is] “the devil with roots. It scabs my cows, spooks my horses, and gives little shade.” (W.T. Waggoner, pioneer northwest Texas rancher, as qtd on Texas Almanac, texasalmanac.com) For many…
Part Batman, part Cantinflas, part Hunger Games, the script for Green Papaya Lantern is rumored to be in the hands of Alfonso Cuarón, director of Y Tu Mama Tambien. Cuaróns’ agent has suggested that the four-time director and cult film icon isn’t sure what to make of the script yet, because he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the storyline. Six weeks after having read the script for Green Papaya Lantern, Cuarón is rumored to have become obsessed with the storyline of the screenplay.
“A Taquache … which by the way is the South Texas dialect for Tlalquache, or opossum … becomes the size of a man on each and every nightfall …” Cuarón sputtered quizically to his agent after Cuarón downed his eighth Cuva Libre within earshot of our source at a casino nightclub in Beliz, where Cuarón placed 37th in January 2014 World Poker Tour event.
“This Hombre de Quache …so to speak,” Cuarón continued “… searches for unjust children in a steaming hot, yet icy, city of unjustness. And when he finds these children, he tells them stories of courage and despair while the marsupial serves the children green papaya. This makes no sense,” Cuarón continued as he emptied his drink, “yet I can not stop thinking about this story,” Cuaron mumbled frustratedly as he turned away from the dance floor of the fashionable Nighty Room and began ordering Shiner Bock beers on tap the rest of the night from his black granite bar-stool, failing to acknowledge anyone around him until the bar closed and he needed help to call a cab.
The screenplay is a project of the Texas Food Revolution, a group of renegade chefs who promote the use of food grown, produced or raised within 100-miles or closer of where a person is at.
The screenplay ends when the mayor of Brownsville, Texas declares a day to celebrate the Taquache, with the community promising not to kill North America’s only marsupial for one day within city limits. One year later, Taquaches for Life is born, a not-for-profit organization that rescues babies from the pouches of their trapped mothers. After the mayor christened the day — to soon be known as Green Papaya Lantern Day — Taquaches quickly experienced a Darwinian mutation that allowed them to remain human-sized throughout the entire day of celebration, and their furs began to take on a glossy black, green and yellow hue, much like the color of The Green Lantern comic book hero’s outfit. Green papaya is at its peak season on the day of celebration, so the day’s title of Green Papaya Lantern Day is apt beyond the obvious reference to the title of the proposed film.
The Texas Food Revolution did not return repeated phone calls and emails seeking comment on the screenplay.
Green Papaya“El Tlacuache”. Publicado por Juan PalominoThe cover jacket of Alfonso Cuarón’s _Mamá_También Wikipedia Y Tu Mamá También ( And Your Mother Too) 2001.
I generally enjoy savory breakfasts like big omelette piles. I don’t usually eat sweet unless I’m indulging in dessert and I usually wouldn’t consider a salad for my first meal of the day. Leave it to a creative TFR captain to push paradigms in delicious ways with something like a Natchetno salad.
Interesting origin: Sharon’s six year old daughter had woken up in the middle of the night and made herself a generous portion of Greek yogurt and honey that stayed in the fridge till morning. This dressing was the unexpected catalyst for today’s breakfast.
This bed of spinach topped with quinoa, yogurt, honey, and berries had the delight and fulfillment of sweet oatmeal, the nutrition and fiber of a salad, and the whole foods boost to start the day. This is certainly a recipe I’ll be repeating for myself an others.
“I love the tacos, but…”
“I love sandwiches, but…”
Using Savoy cabbage, TFR Captain Sharon really pulled off a nice wrap. The cabbage is durable so as not to split like lettuce, and it actually holds a nice flavor when steamed a moment on the griddle. I’d prefer a savoy wrap over a tortilla any day.
Try growing this kind of cabbage, or find it at the market, and begin enjoying amazing nutritious wraps.
Most of this is pretty self explanatory, but one little trick to get a nice Asian flavor from this wrap is coconut oil and grated ginger in your egg mix, yum!
I have had the pleasure of staying with fellow Texas Food Revolutionary, Sharon Castillo, the past week. I have known Sharon for years, she is a powerful soul, a hungry mind, and a very dedicated and patient mother of two. In addition to being my fellow philosopher and autonomous comrade, she also believes fresh organic ingredients and an adventurous spirit are the only requisites to be a great chef.
“Whatcha in the mood for?” She asks her husband. “Let’s cook up that rainbow trout.”
And like many improvisations of Texas Food Revolutionaries, her creation was worth repeating with your own style in your own home. I moaned and fawned over her dish, rich in herbal flavors, healthy fats, and subtle spice tones. She dodged my praise, feeling that the cooking process is so natural she could hardly take credit.
Get the Quinoa started, as usual, 2 parts water to 1 part Quinoa. Add some butter and a little salt. Towards the end of the Quinoa’s cooking add Turmeric, cumin, and ginger powder(or fresh grated) to taste. This should take about 20 minutes.
On a skillet, melt a big tbsp of butter at a low medium heat and sautee the tarragon and sage leaves. Place the trout on top with skin still on. Season the trout with salt and garlic powder on top and then flip when half cooked. When the filets are fully cooked, place them aside and make sure not to waste any of the sauteed herbs in butter.
Place fish, herbs, sliced avocado on top of quinoa and enjoy the omega rich feast. This meal gave me energy and clarity for days and really made me feel warm in the new home.
If there’s one thing important to TFR, it’s encouraging and promoting attendance at farmers’ markets, the frontline of the struggle to get healthy food in people’s bodies, and to reducing the outflow of chemicals into waterways. We’ve taken the reigns of farmers’ markets from time to time and tripled attendance, while more than tripling sales for farmers. So if you’d like a little help getting the public to your farmers’ market, please get in touch with us and we’d be happy to start a plan.
Just shoot an email to southtexasnation@gmail.com with some brief info about your farmers’ market along with your website, facebook page, etc. if you already have those set up.
Did you know that Coca-Cola is a necessary strand of the social safety net? Without access to Coca-Cola, how is anyone expected to pursue life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness?
A bill was introduced, but not yet passed in last year’s legislative session in Texas. Texas House Bill 751 would prohibit the purchase of tater chips, candy, and sweetened beverages with the federally funded Supplemental Nutritional Aid Program, otherwise known as food stamps.
As I understand it, the bill would introduce a waiver of federal SNAP funds for the products defined in the bill. This is not the first motion by a state to request that the old union stop paying for their citizen’s junk food.
Opponents of the bill, such as those in the junk food industry and common citizens who want free candy and coke for their family, claim that “passing the bill would be all hard and complicated and stuff,” “you can’t prove anything,” and “it would be really scary for everybody.” Proponents of the bill, such as health nuts and budding anarchists with an insatiable appetite for reason, claim “why don’t you just use federal funds for cigarettes for down and out smokers, and you can pay for it from revenue gained from kidnapping potheads? Fuck, why is our government such a bunch of pussies when it comes to doing things that make sense?” and various other hyperbolic non-sequiturs.
The next meeting of bureaucrats who determine non-market flows of wealth rolls around about one year from now.
If you want to keep your free candy allowance, or if you fear that your company’s financial interests would feel withdrawals from those extra sweet tax dollars, then it is due time to write your representative and tell him not to pass such stupid legislation and that they are poopyheads and you will hate them if they pass it.
And likewise for all of you LSD licking radicals, if you want to make your fantastic rants about “tax dollars paying big business for both the causes and the effects of disease, from foreign policy to healthcare” be heard; then type your concerns on a nice, clean note or digital text field, and send the letter to your representative.
Make sure to write your local rep.
Here is the bureaucrat who introduced the bill:
-So declare saintly bureaucrats of Austin.
Well, some food, in some places.
The Texas Cottage Law, in effect as of September of 2013 has opened things up a bit for law abiding bakers of Texas. The law prohibits a city from outlawing cottage food operations on the basis of zoning, and permits the sale of cottage goods outside the home at fairs, festivals, farmers’ markets, farm stands, and various other culturally appropriate place for such activity.
“The law expands the list of allowable food to include candy, coated and uncoated nuts, unroasted nut butters, fruit butters, dehydrated fruits and vegetables, popcorn, cereal, granola, dry mix, vinegar, pickles, mustard, and roasted coffee or dry tea.” – http://www.texascottagefoodlaw.com.
On behalf of all the cooks at my local farmers’ market I sincerely thank Texas resident and home baker, Kelley Masters, for her four years worth of effort in getting her representative to get this law through Texas legislature. After the bill’s first failure in 2009, Masters rallied support through social media outlets and grassroots campaigns to give the bill the voice it needed.
As of January 1st of 2014, all who sell these cottage goods are legally required to have a food handler’s permit and are subject to inspection or penalty by the local health department.
The red tape and kevlar separating choice and consequence just got a whole lot thinner at the farmers’ market. So what are you waiting for? It’s time to show off your skills.
It’s a cold, dank winter day and this revolutionary is strapped for cash. Most of us are. It’s Tuesday, though, and we’re feeding many at our weekly Tune-in-Tuesday Potluck.
I go to the market with $10.
I walk home with a can of crabmeat, a can of clams in clam juice, 2 yellow onions, 1 bunch of celery, 3 ears of corn, and I could even afford some more chili powder for the rack. Spices are scant at the headquarters right now.
I’ve got olive oil, flour, okra, serrano peppers, and carrots already in the kitchen.
I put a gallon of water in the pot. I realize it will be too much. I scoop a big glass of water out and chug it. Gotta stay hydrated. I bring it to a boil.
I cut both onions, the entire bunch of celery, two serrano peppers, and two carrots into thin slices and toss them in the boiling water. This is going to be casual gumbo, no need to rush on a winter day like today. I go ahead and shake some cajun seasoning into the boil.
I cut the corn off the cobs and slice the okra thin, and dice it again.
I feed the cat. I check the email. Some friends arrive and we say some brilliant things, and some silly things.
I heat up the skillet with oil of olive and toss in the corn and okra. I mix this around, tossing in chili powder and hoping for a grilly flavor from the frying. I shake nutmeg in the boiling broth along with some more seasoning salt. When the corn and okra look cooked I toss them in the broth. I open the crab and the clams and drop them into the pot, juice included. The concoction is filling the air with its spice, the soup is coming alive. Roux is the final step.
I keep the skillet hot but turn the heat below medium, I add some liberal splashes of olive oil. I shake in some flour and stir continuously with a wooden spoon. The color is a dijon yellow, mostly from the olive oil. It looks too loose, I add a few more clumps of flour and mush and stir them in. The consistency looks perfect, like mixing clay paints. The edges of the roux bubble. I keep stirring, the yellow turns to an earth tone desert brown. This is a crucial time. The roux is beautiful. How long will I let it wait? How dark do I want the roux today? There it is.
I dump the roux in the stew and I do not know it is Gumbo until the third bite, when I remembered my father’s gumbo and the quintessential taste of a soup arrangement that plays the proud theme, “Gumbo.”
“This soup is amazing, I love spicy-ness,” said Roxanne.
Lana hadn’t tried it yet, “Mmm, like Mexican spicy or like Asian spicy?”
Virginia paused her eating, “Cajun spicy.”
Local community activist, Regina, talking to Kelvin and Todd about big ideas and small steps
“You gotta know where your food is gonna go before you even start. Some folks wanna plant vegetable gardens just to look pretty. No, we’re growin’ food here!” We laughed, I knew we’d get along. Eating is the best part of vegetable gardening, and often the most forgotten piece of the puzzle. A vegetable garden is not a success until it lands on the plate. I saw how this basic passion for homegrown food drove the effective yet light hearted individual I had the pleasure of spending a day with.
One day at Wabash (organic feed and seed store in downtown Houston), a smiling man walked up to the counter with a handful of thirty plus different seed packets. I see all kinds of customers at Wabash and when somebody purchases more than a backyard garden’s worth of seeds I begin to wonder: “Are they planting a small farm? Where in Houston has the space for all these seeds? Are they preparing for the apocalypse?” I inquired “I’ve seen you in here before, I gotta know, where are all these seeds going? You must have a hell of a farm.”
The man laughed, “Nope, I got gardens. all over Houston!” I made a puzzled face. “Yeah man, schools, parks, where ever I can.”
“Oh are you with a non-profit group or something?”
“No I just fit in where ever they let me, here’s my card.”
A few weeks later I rode my bike to meet with Kelvin and his associate, Todd, for a garden tour. The first stop was Booker T. Washington High School. The ladies at the front desk remembered Kelvin’s last visit, “Mmhm, I’m still thinking about those greens you cooked up, and that Swiss chard.” As we made our way to the site, the school staff all greeted their favorite gardener in the hallways. Kelvin whispered to me “You gotta feed ‘em. See how she was talkin’ about that cook-out like it was yesterday? That was three weeks ago. Gotta feed ‘em. We just did a class at a preschool nearby and you KNOW we started with a cooking demo. I think every gardening class should start with a cooking demo.”
Items Kelvin has collected for sprouting seedlings
The Booker T. garden was in an otherwise featureless atrium at the center of campus. The racquetball-court-sized rectangle surrounded by brick walls was now filled with rows of beets, lettuce, carrots, a banana tree, and dormant okra bushes. It was sufficient crop for a few classrooms worth of salads. “We put this one in a year ago, a couple clubs take care of it and snack on it. They’re also doing a little experiment to see how the regular dirt compares to fertilized dirt.”
“This is the fertilized side, huh?” I pointed to the obvious choice.
“Actually, we forgot to fertilize any of it. This side just knew it was gonna get fertilized so it grew better.” He laughed and clarified, “look at where the sun is at, it was fun watching the kids figure that one out,” I noticed the shadow cast up the shorter side of the garden, “The garden’s full of learning opportunities. Gotta keep your eyes open for resources, too.” One of the teachers had brought in hay from her horse barn to lay out as weed prevention. He pointed out where they were installing an apparatus to catch the condensation from the AC units for some extra drip for the garden.
We went on to the next stop driving through Independence Heights. “Did you know this was the first black community incorporated as a city in the State of Texas? Lots of history here. I’ma show you this one we did recently with practically nothing.”
“How long have you been doing this anyways?”
“I started about 15 years ago, Joe from Organic Outpost got me into it, and I been in it ever since.”
We pulled up to a small empty corner lot in a dilapidated neighborhood where there grew a thriving garden of greens. I pulled some of the spinach and continued snacking. I snacked all day during my tour with Kelvin.
“You see this is a food desert, ain’t hardly a vegetable for miles at the stores nearby, so we put this in here. The lady gave us the lot, we tilled up some dirt and set seeds. Look at the ground, full of rocks and trash and stuff, but it’s growin’ aint it?” It is. “And look at this compost,” he walked me over to the huge heap. “You smell anything? You see any pests running around?”
“No.”
“See man, that’s all you gotta do, do it how nature does it and it’ll work – that’s how George Washington Carver came up with all those ideas. And all these good scraps come from that produce factory down the street, they don’t even sell in this neighborhood, but at least they give us compost. Nothin’ goes to waste.” He picked out some orange seeds from the pile and looked at Todd, “we’re gonna have to plant these at that preschool.”
Kelvin, and many of the best gardeners I’ve met, are pathologically resourceful. During the day’s tour we stopped three times to fill Kelvin’s trailer with discarded yard waste from curb sides. A home owner waved out her front door, “thank you sweetie.” “No problem ma’am.”
We rode by a nursing home with an open acre adjacent, host only to a couple of trees. Todd, who had thus far remained humbly quiet became excited and fired up. “Man, look at that lot, right next to the old folks home. That’s a farm right there! Lots of potential.” Kelvin concurred. I began to understand what a day in the life of Kelvin and Todd was like. Work, improvise, teach, eat, share, and embrace your community. I joked with Todd, “so you’re like a freelance sometimes professional mostly volunteer community gardener.” Todd laughed, “Yeah that’s about right, freelance volunteer gardener.”
Kelvin unloading the day’s compost pickup next to his garden
I continued to see the community how Kelvin saw it, we visited his composting sites and other gardens, some thrived, and some were in need of help, all were a learning experience. “Ain’t no right way to do it. There are so many ways to make a good garden you just gotta figure out the way for you.”
The first time I had spoke with Kelvin I inquired about who his partners and colleagues were. His mode of operations was apparent. “We gotta share everything, this knowledge is for everybody, this ain’t about competition and all that, we try to work with everyone.” I appreciated the sentiment, it’s what keeps me happy at Wabash. Our employees give out information for free, their number 1 goal being a happier more knowledgeable customer, regardless of what they walk out of the store with.
One thing Kelvin continuously mentioned was “I need to get me a tractor!” He’d say this every time we stared at a giant heap of compost, seeing hours of shovel labor. In such a connected community I imagined how many people would benefit from Kelvin on a tractor. What if each backyard garden had surplus of their specialty crop? Neighborhood markets could thrive, the results would be tasty. We really could be a city that provided healthy food for our population right from the ground beneath our feet.
A healthy, sustainable future is quite the feat. With all of the infrastructure and economy that supports empty calories and lazy food, there is so much work and so many pieces to the puzzle to be in place for an organic homegrown community at any level. I get stressed thinking about it. Kelvin reminded me, “Don’t worry about the end result. Just do your part, and it will all work out.” The sentiment brought me peace, it’s something I have to remind myself every day.
When Kelvin dropped off my bike and I that afternoon, he asked “So what did you get out of all this?” I thought for a moment and struck his excitement with my answer. “Keep it simple.” “HaHa! You hit the nail on the head, got it right in with one shot!”
Kelvin is a freelance gardener who works with churches, school, recovery centers, and anywhere that will help the neighborhood. For information about Kelvin’s projects, or to let him borrow your tractor, please contact:
Kelvin Williams
KW64@live.com
and to learn more of Wabash, Houston’s organic gardening headquarters, please visit wabashfeed.com
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