Upon our return from
Santa Fe on Saturday, I found a message from Cynthia when I opened my e mail,
inviting us to their house for a party on Sunday afternoon “starting at 2:00
p.m.” When we arrived a bit after 2:00 p.m.
the band Ricardo plays drums in “The Lost Tribes of Mardi Gras” was in full
swing on the newly remodeled back patio.
THE LOST
TRIBES OF MARDI GRAS is a 6 member ensemble playing traditional instruments and
music of Carnivale, ritual and celebratory music. Their repertoire includes
Afro-Caribbean rhythms and chants, as well as Brazilian Samba and songs from
New Orleans, Brazil, Africa, and the Caribbean. Come join in songs of freedom
and celebrate community and the ancestors. Enjoy Guaguancó, Samba, Second-Line,
Bomba, Cha-cha-cha, Bembé, Samba-Reggae, Comparsa, Abakua, and more.
The table was set with a several delightful snacks that
Cynthia often makes like an olive medley and interesting cheese plate and a
wonderful hummus garnished with fresh chopped broadleaf parsley and olive oil
and a large bowl of pita chips. I first discovered
that this was a band rehearsal and later discovered that the Band was releasing
an EP and this was also their first release party. Cynthia is on the right.
There were a number of interesting folks to talk to. I found myself sitting beside a lady named
Martha, who taught high school Spanish in the APS system and owned a house in
Cataluya?, Spain a hill top town in Catalan, south of Barcelona, quite near Peniscola,
where El Cid was filmed. Billy and I spent
two or three days there in 1971, when we had to stop for a brake repair of my
VW bus during a vacation. I remember it
as a lovely walled town on the beach surrounded by miles of flat open
beach. Martha told me that that lovely
open expanse of beach has been filled with condos and hotels; another victim of
Spain’s building boom. And like many other
victims, one that cannot be returned to its pre-developed idyllic state.
I enjoyed speaking to Martha about her experiences in Spain
and the latest gossip about Spain’ s current economic and political
troubles. Martha’s take was that
illegal bribes to local officials by developers allowed for massive
overbuilding that led to a collapse. We
both had read the New Yorker article that had said essentially the same thing.
Ricardo and Cynthia have built a raised patio beside their
back door and a beautiful wooden portal over a portion of their extended patio
and a fire pit and cooking area that extends into their back yard. Further back in the yard they built a bar
area that was filled with wine and where there were iced coolers filled with
beer, wine and sodas. That is when I became
aware that this was a real party, party.
After about two hours of pleasant talk in the warm sunlight of
a Sunday afternoon with lots of lovely wine and music, Cynthia started bring
out pizza and salad over the course of about thirty minutes. Cynthia said that the first pizza was not
hers, but store bought. Then an
elegantly thin crusted pizza appeared that she made with thinly sliced tomatoes
and herbs and finally a feta and kalamata olive and herb olive pizza was served
that I loved the best because it had a lovely oily texture.
Cynthia presented Suzette with an envelope containing a CD
by Honey House, a local band that Suzette had mentioned she liked when Cynthia
and Ricardo played it for us at an earlier party at their house.
Suzette handed out cards advertising this summer’s Field to Table
meal on June 22 that is named 24 Carrots, because it will feature carrots. Martha
left for a while, but returned later and gave Suzette a note card with a
picture of a massive pile of carrots.
The picture on the cover of the note card was signed by her and I suspect
the photo was taken in Spain.
Then at around 5:30 p.m. Cynthia brought out two pies. One was a mixed berry pie with an amazing
flakey crust baked by Paul, the trombonist in the band (that everyone loved; note the empty baking dish) and a carton of delicious vanilla bean ice cream and a store baked blueberry
pie that I did not try because I was so full. The
appearance of the pies must have been the signal for the band to stop playing so
they could eat. We mingled a bit more
and around 6:00 we went home after a relaxing and pleasant afternoon of music,
wine and food.
Bon Appétit
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