JAIPUR-HAWA MAHAL

This building is Hawa Mahal, called The Palace of the Winds because the facade has 956 delicate, honeycombed sandstone windows used by the ladies of the palace to watch the outside world without being seen.

This is a close up but you cannot see the windows. It was built in 1799 by Maharaja Sawai Pratap Singh in the form of a crown of Krishna, the Hindu God.

The reason we got such good pictures of the Hawa Mahal is because of this one-legged man with the cane in the middle of the street. He bravely walks into rather fast-moving traffic, they stop and let us cross over the boulevard divider so we could take our picture and then back to re-enter the bus. Ranvir pays him for this service. Methinks Ranvir has a soft heart for those in need. And, he keeps us safe.

And, of course, no surprise that the building  is pink. Now you can see the sandstone windows.

In this town we see ready wrapped turbans for sale. All you have to do is set it on your head instead of going through the long process of wrapping.  Modernizing signs are everywhere in India. I love the colors.

As I look out the window I see  a little slice of life. The woman back left,  lifting her garment and exposing pants underneath that she may wear out of sight. And we falsely think of India as such a macho society. The grandma stands behind the father carrying the baby. We see that often, men who are very involved with their children and babies. And the couple in front. He is carrying the package for her.

One thing I love about traveling with OAT is they always arrange for a home visit. This is Mr. Mathur, I've forgotten his first name. His wife, Ruchi and one of their two sons, right. (Apologies for not checking my camera focus, earlier.)

When we first arrived, Mr. Mathur wasn't home. The son was there and a visiting next door neighbor child. The son was busily fielding phone calls and filling in the gap for his father's absence, while we drank beer and wine. I was quite surprised to be offered an alcoholic drink.

Ranvir tells us nothing about the family and Kris brought something for a young child. She entertained the neighbor child which turned out very serendipitous.

Dinner was very casual, everyone passed around the pots of great food. We felt just like family. The food, not over salted and absolutely delicious. Mr. Mathur was very friendly and informal. He is the youngest of 7 brothers who all live in the same complex. He wanted to be a businessman, but was nudged by his father to become a lawyer. He showed us his office, a bedroom converted. They live in the original house, downstairs with only two bedrooms. The rest of the family lives, up stairs or in other buildings on the property. Ruchi says when guests arrive they have nowhere to put them. So they will remodel. Just like talking to a neighbor.

Hugo hit it off so well with Mathur they arranged a golf game on our return to Dehli before flying back to the U.S.  (A game in which Ranvir joined and played golf for the first time.) Theo wasn't feeling well that night and stayed in the hotel.

We always bring a hostess gift and no one ever really knows what to bring. Ruchi shared a lot of her personal life, too. Her mother died when she was very young and she was raised by her father. When she talks about her father or Dehli, her eyes just light up. After college she worked as a librarian and met her future husband. She said she had never cooked a meal in her life but, it is tradition, that the wife moves in with the husband's family. They did not use astrology to choose their wedding date. They both believe that is just superstition. She said her mother-in-law very patiently taught her to cook. And she enjoyed that very much. They travel all over Europe and the United States. Whenever they visit, they stay with family or friends. She sometimes wishes she could travel to a quiet place and meet people like us. I invited them to come stay  and be my guest to visit Big Trees State Park as part of their next travels. I have her email and I hope they come.
I've had trouble with pictures because I tried to load them into separate folders and they ended up out of sequence. So, I may at times, blog out of sequence.  And, I re-tore my rotator cuff before I went to India. I had an MRI before I left and it was confirmed on my return. I'm hoping to get the whole trip blogged before I'm unable to sit and type. Thanks, all, for your comments and for stopping by.

SOUTH LAKE TAHOE.

The last two years, we've rented a place at Incline Village for Christmas, skiing and playing in the snow. This year we decided a summer family reunion would be a fun change. We arrived Friday night. Doug, who is an expert at barbecuing anything to perfection, fixed hamburgers after our long drive. My camera was packed and I didn't get a picture. Everyone resorted to a game of pool. It was Doug and Ken, against Laurie and Kristanne.

Kristanne had never played pool before, and Laurie, who grew up with a pool table, is a shark.

She knows how to bounce those balls.

Everyone had a turn at the table, and after the games, everyone decided to be silly. A bit of wine and tequila probably helped.

No one really cared who won or lost. Laughter is what counts.

The next morning, most of us went for hike to the National Park.

I was ahead and turned to catch this sisterly hug. Don't have a clue what inspired it.


We had seen signs about a rope walk in the canopy and thought everyone would like that activity.  But, it was closed. Left to right is Cedric, Ken, Virginia, Austin, who seems fixated on a two finger salute. Then Laurie, Theo and Kristanne. Doug and Owen stayed back at the cabin.

We stopped for a couple pictures, but the sun was at the high, bright time of day and we got a lot of squints and shut eye.

We snacked and reminisced for lunch.

At four o'clock Saturday afternoon, we skyped with my grandson Stewart in Japan where he teaches English as a second language.

We asked him dozens of questions. Here he is explaining that his deodorant melted and he had to shave his armpits. The Japanese people seem fascinated by his facial hair. Komatsu, is a coastal town of about 100,000 people. It isn't a tourist destination and they don't see many foreigners. Students are very disciplined and continually kind of bow and say "hye" as a way to indicate they understand. He is learning to use that expression as well and practiced it for us. Technology is awesome and we loved the ability to spend a half hour with Stew.


It was Ken and Laurie's night to fix dinner, and they prepared a marvelous shrimp dish, with butter and lemon juice and pepper. The kitchen is small here. Everyone went to bed early

Virginia made scratch muffins for breakfast Sunday morning. She picked the wild berries on their property on the Eel River.

She also got "into" olives this year and brought 3 different kinds of olives she made from trees growing around Santa Clara. Theo declared they were inedible and about the worst thing you could eat. I loved them and got to bring some home.

At 9:00 a.m. Virginia treated  Kris and I to kayaking.  Ken took pictures of us before he and Laurie went for a ride to see the scenery around Silver Lake.


I've enjoyed kayaking before, but Virginia wisely chose a double for us since my shoulder is not completely healed. I had to rest from paddling periodically and she had to pull for both of us.

Kristanne, always adventurous, had never kayaked. She took to it like a duck to water and said, "Hey, I get to mark it off my bucket list." We rested on a distant beach, then sunned and dried out on a rock when we returned.

Kristanne and Laurie enjoyed a game of Rumikub in the afternoon.

The boys played pool or read a book.

Everyone played 13, the national game of Vietnam. It is limited to four so each of us dipped in and out of the game. It is one of those games where kids have just as much chance of winning as an adult and Theo proved it. Not visible, off to the right is Doug, playing DJ and selecting our favorite tunes on the computer.

Cedric took to the kitchen to bake pies for dinner.


This cabin was as close to wreckage as you can find in a domicile, and the oven temperature was difficult to gauge.  He struggled to get them cooked well. But, as usual, they turned out delish.

So, most of Sunday was spent playing games, eating, gabbing...

...snoozing.


Virginia showed off her skill with Theo's juggling balls.

During the evening, Hearts was the game of choice.

There was some high finance going on downstairs with a monopoly game with Austin, Theo, Doug and Owen.

Ken opted to wade through the New York Times and a San Francisco Chronicle.


Some of us walked to the beach and watched the fireworks.


It was a lovely, busy, relaxing 3 day getaway with stuff to do for everyone's taste. Can't wait until next year.

EASY TANDOORI CHICKEN

I recently enjoyed tandoori chicken at a restaurant in Stockton. A reader wondered if you can cook it without the clay pot. The answer is yes, but I couldn’t find my recipe that I got from a friend. I found it yesterday and here it is:

3/4 cup Greek yogurt, mixed with 1/4 cup water.
1 tablespoon grated fresh ginger.
2 cloves garlic diced
2 tablespoons Indian tandoori spice mix. (The mix is made with garlic, onion and garam masala, the ingredient that turns it pink.  I’ve made it without the garam, and it still tastes good. If I can’t get the mix, I  replace it with 1 tsp sweet paprika, for color, 1 tsp ground cumin and 1/2 tsp. cayenne pepper. I’ve been known to toss in a bit of cilantro, too.)

1 tablespoon dried fenugreek leaves
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons lemon juice
1 tablespoon vegetable oil.

Mix everything together into a paste and cover six chicken thighs with it and marinate in the refrigerator overnight, or, all day if you start early in the morning. (At least seven hours. ) When ready, turn your oven up to 400 degrees. Lay thighs in a single layer on a lightly greased baking sheet and roast for 20 to 30 minutes. Turn on the broil and brown for five minutes, turning and basting the pieces. Melt a tablespoon butter over all and serve with lemon wedges and sliced raw onion. Eat with rice.

This recipe serves six people, but that is three people at my house. If I’m going to turn on my oven I triple this recipe.

My gang comes in today for the holidays, with four college age boys, one a guest from Italy, and then the rest of the troop.  I baked and parted a turkey for a buffet style supper with a cold paella salad, green salad and plenty of bread for sandwiches. That should get them through to a trip to the snow tomorrow.

We are so fortunate to have such choices of interesting foods. I hope you give it a try some day.

SURPRISE YOURSELF

This is the last of a pear crop on my neighbor's tree. My neighbor doesn't use them and they drop on the ground and go to waste. Quite small, mottled, tough skinned, misshapen pears, some with bird pecks and bruises.
Waste is not in my vocabulary, thanks to depression era parents. Whenever you read a recipe you are exhorted to use the "best" fruit, choose items without blemishes, bruises and so on. By that definition, these were substandard.
I cut out the bad spots, cored them and diced them up with out paring. Put them in a pan with a glob of butter and less than a half inch of water and cooked them for about 15 minutes. They were somewhat hard to begin with, some Bartletts, some comice.
They kept their shape and were tender, rich and buttery when done. We ate some spooned generously over sage and rosemary seasoned chicken breast that had been pan cooked with spinach and festooned with feta cheese. Delicious!
The next morning, sprinkled with cinnamon, we ate them on oatmeal with a dab of brown sugar and milk. Excellent!
The following night, we enjoyed them in a salad with a balsamic vinaigrette followed by desert of a heaping tablespoon of the pears, with juice, covered with vanilla yogurt.
I was surprised at several friends who confessed to being clueless when it comes to using pears. I had never tried just dicing them and cooking them, before, either. I surprised myself with a good way to use pears.

HOW NOT TO COOK RAZOR CLAMS

Pacific Razor Clam (Siliqua patula)

I was reminded yesterday of the irascible razor clam when I took leftover oyster/clam chowder out of the freezer for a quick meal. It was very tasty, but let me tell you, the chowder was a "rescue" dish.
Back in Long Beach, I went on a search for a local specialty, razor clams. I ended up getting them at a restaurant deli where the restaurant's chef told me there were only two ways to cook them, deep fried or pan fried. Since I don't have a deep fryer in the motorhome, nor like deep fried foods over much, she gave me precise instructions on how to pan fry them. Flour the clams, heat your oil very hot, and fry them for under a minute, don't overcook or scorch the flour. Easy!
These clams seem to be a local rage. Type Razor Clam into a search engine and you get lessons on how to dig them with a shovel or tube. You get pictures of what looks like a hundred people crowding a beach digging razor clams. They are popular; they have to be tasty. They can grow as large as 6 inches and live for 9 years. They influence the health of the ocean and are productive and charismatic citizens of the deep. Yup! Gotta have 'em.
That's it, folks. If you like greasy, tough, inedible rubber that is how you do it. We ended up chopping them fine, and putting them in the chowder with more edible companions. Rescue!
I love to cook. I like a challenge. My friends tell me I'm a good cook, but I'd never try them again. Well, maybe never!
I'm intrigued. Any success stories out there?