Special post! I’ve just slowly savoured (hoovered) my first buttermilk biscuit in 13 years.
Let’s be honest. Forget cultural enlightenment, scenic wonders et al, the real reason I came here was to eat biscuits. Pic below for those of you south of the equator. Imagine the lightest, fluffiest, slightly sour scones you’ve ever (not) made.
Thanks to David’s recommendation I’m in uber cool Blacksmith cafe. You know you’re in a hip joint when first customer you see is a tall dark and handsome doctor in his scrubs. Should’ve developed sudden crippling pain in MY hip joint and collapsed at his feet.
I’m allowed to eat biscuits because I did 40 press-ups and tricep dips at park among frolicking squirrels. And walked 1.4 km along Houston’s broken footpaths. Jim explained there’s something amiss with rain+soil here that causes roads and paths to buckle, sink, crack.
Right, back onto the broken paths I go to burn one millionth of the calories I just ate. 10, 9, 8 … we’re off to the Houston (we have a problem) space centre this morning. Wonder if Elton John’ll be there.
Grateful for: Being born a middle class New Zealander
Trying hard to accept:Beingmarried
Every home needs one. No, not a me. A porch swing!
I’ve got so much to tell you I’m actually sitting at a desk to write this.
First of all, I’m married! According to the server at the space centre BBQ joint, Jim is my “second husband”. Not sure who my first one was. And don’t remember either of my weddings, but stranger things have happened in space.
Space. There’s so much to tell you about the Johnson Space Centre I’ll put it in lists and pictures. Ok, ready? LIFTOFF!
10,000 people work there
Rice University built a campus at the space centre in the 1960s with the deal that if NASA ever went bust the university would have a second campus in Houston. They also reinstated the Texas longhorn cattle that used to roam the land. There are also deer everywhere – hang out there to avoid the local coyotes.
It includes the facilities where they make the space food (3 year shelf life), put astronauts through before & after medical tests (you grow taller in space due to lack of spinal pressure), and have managed to grow peppers and lettuce in soil from the moon (“Right kids, I went to the moon and back to make this salad. EAT IT.”)
The eagle (has landed) eyed will notice how clean this rocket it. They ran out of money, it never left the car park.
Close-up of the lunar landing bit. Like a work of art in steel.
Orion control centre ready for the 2035 mission to Mars. The video feeds are from the International Space Station, which in this pic was hovering over the Falklands. The ISS control centre was next door.
Gail M Wilson Jnr, fourth astronaut on the 1972 Apollo mission. They had to photoshop me into the official picture – I was busy (washing my hair) at the time.
Jim’s reaction to being told he’s my husband.
Our wedding breakfast. BBQ brisket and mac cheese. Two of my favourite food groups.
This is the actual 747 used on shuttle launches. We went inside. It was big. That’s a replica shuttle. We went inside. It was surprisingly big, but not when you’re floating around crashing into everything I guess. The cockpit made your average passenger plane cockpit look like child’s play.
I now know why every town in these parts has a water tower shaped like that one yonder. First person to guess gets a prize. Gail M Wilson Jnr’s autograph or one-way ticket to Mars – you choose. (You’re not allowed to enter, Dad).
So, back in time, before we landed at NASA Jim took me on a tour of Houston. First we went round the neighbourhood I’m staying in so I could drool over all the 1920s homes with their front porches and swings, then to the even more historic Houston Heights area of the most gorgeous homes.
Then we went up a trillion real estate brackets to the moneyed River Oaks. Ok see that house above? Well that’d be at least 10 bedrooms, 12 bathrooms, 10,000 sq ft, with a section the size of two NASA hangars. And that’s not all. Most of them had full-time guards at the gate. And probably more staff than family.
There’s a huge medical industry here. You’ve got Texas University medical school, Texas children’s hospital, and the massive and I mean massive MD Anderson Cancer Centre to name a few.
Every faith has its own medical centre – each the size of a large hospital in NZ. I was interested to learn the Catholic centres won’t allow stem cell research.
This is Jim and Fran’s church – Covenant Church, an ecumenical, liberal, Baptist congregation. Stunning building, in its simplicity.
To me, their church is what religion should be about. They focus on practical ways to help people (homes for teenagers kicked out of home for being gay, shelters for abused women, food banks etc.)
From tomorrow’s service: “It would be so much easier, Jesus, to ignore the hard truths around us; the widening gap between rich and poor … give us the courage to disrupt the way things are in the name of what should be … in order to heal and restore …” Jim and Fran embody that – the way they treat others, help people, believe strongly in justice and always act according to their beliefs rather than any social/political pressure.
Thanks to Houston’s decision to build another trillion miles of freeways there was so much construction work that we never made it to Galveston. Instead, we spent ages trying to get from A to B and talking about big scary subjects like what Trump’s doing to families in border detention centres, what drug companies get up to and the obscene gap between rich and poor in the US.
For someone who would’ve fled NZ like a shot to come live here I can now appreciate how lucky I am to have been born where I was, and not only that, to be born into a middle class family. I still love the US for many reasons but if I lived here I’d have to be head-in-the-sand re politics because otherwise I’d be so angry and feel so helpless.
Jim’s views echoed those of the people I’ve met so far, a few of who have told me they’re ashamed to be Americans. And those are words I never thought I’d hear.
After a long day of driving half of Houston and its surrounding cities we went to Jim and Fran’s apartment in their retirement complex. The whole place was absolutely lovely – incredibly warm, welcoming and peaceful.
This photo of swans in Hakkaido is one of a series taken by a resident who has Parkinson’s.
This one’s for you Kay. One of several quilts hand sewed by Fran’s mother. Just beautiful.
I could not believe the dining room. It was starched white table cloths, table service, 5-star dining the whole way. It’d be like Christmas dinner every night. Completely beyond anything I’d imagined.
In case you’re interested (you are) I had cream of broccoli soup which I could’ve eaten the whole saucepan of, my good friend salmon again, a delicious citrus sauce, balsamic grilled vegetables, my beloved corn, and sage stuffing with gravy which is one of the best comfort foods ever to have come out of an oven.
It was the best day. Thank you again Jim and Fran for teaching me so much about so much.
“And when the night is cloudy there is still a light that shines on me, shine until tomorrow, let it be.”
Another food-related (kinda) special post!
Before I left NZ I texted myself the lyrics of ‘Let it Be’ and ‘Here Comes the Sun’ to remind myself of the point of this trip: to learn acceptance.
I’m sitting here in my neighbourhood Common Bond cafe on a meltingly hot Sunday morning crying tears of happiness because:
They just played ’Let it Be’
The sun has well and truly come
I get free wifi
They have free coffee refills – might go for fourth
The checkout woman in Kroger (supermarket) gave me a discount card. I saved $4!
After 6 failed attempts I managed to email an SOS to ASB bank to ask why my Visa card has suddenly given up
They’re now playing ‘Here Comes the Sun’
I’m incredibly happy. This is me.
Peter, Barry & Lindsay – you’ll be relieved to know I can recreate my Maranui muffin, yogurt and almond flat white experience here, sans pre-run (suspect falling-off-ladder-tailbone injury might be worse than thought), sea views (beautiful people of Houston instead) and of course the coveted Dominion (Kroger flyer is almost as good). I looked over to Maranui when taking off and a shiver of happiness ran down my spine.
Strada espresso machine. # 673 on list of things you can use as mirror to check for food in teeth.
Today’s post brought to you by: Down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico, Mexico-oo, Mexico-oo
Grateful for: Autumn
Trying hard to accept: Being on my best southern belle behaviour
It doesn’t take long leaving Houston to reach modest old houses so close to the rail track the residents could almost stand on their back porches and swipe the train. But better than a 747 I guess.
Houston was a joy. Train was late arriving from LA so had a bit of time to kill. David kindly whipped up a best-coffee-I’ve-had-in-ages-and-I’ve-had-a-lot-of-coffee hazelnut decaf and we sat on his porch while he played his guitar and sang my favourite Simon & Garfunkel song ‘The Only Living Boy in New York’, with Spook the parrot on background vocals. Perfect send-off to a perfect 2 days. Thank you again David for being such an interesting, welcoming and generous host.
(Don’t waste money on feeding a pit bull. Nothing will make burglars scarper quicker than Spook’s ear-shattering squawk. Ain’t no spring chicken either, all of 42 years old.)
Emptied bulging wallet of coins into rail station vending machine only to be the unlucky 113th customer whose food got stuck. Tried the ol’ shake, rattle ‘n’ roll then went and chewed the fat with the ticketing woman.
Happened to mention in passing, as you do, my loss of $1 and bag of Nutter Butter Bites. Next thing I know she’s rooting round in the drawers and out the back, returning with a wad of $1 notes and giving me one. Glen would’ve been proud. “If you see your sister standing by the machine, with a pissed off look … you’ve got to try a little kindness …”
This is what success looks like.
I tell ya folks, autumn is the time to travel. For the last 2 hours the train has rolled past golden fields and leaves. The sun is setting and, if it wasn’t for the air con blasting arctic air, this lounge car’d be warm as toast.
Passed Lake Houston, the river marking the Texas-Louisiana border and Lake Charles with all the good ol’ boys out there in their boats catching a catfish or 20.
FYI I’m planning on scoffing shrimp etouffee tonight. Just thought I’d mention that. Cholesterol, David? What cholesterol?
2 hrs later. Oh my, Lafayette is everything I imagined. I’m ‘just up the road’ in US terms from Houston but I might as well be on another planet.
I tell you what, if you want to instantly bond with someone, talk food.
First Lafayette-an I met was Pamela from Uber. She was as sweet as the iced tea she was drinking. We talked biscuits the whole drive.
Second one was Betsy my host. I feel like I’m at home with mom, she’s just absolutely lovely. She’s got her fingers in all sorts of pecan pies from Mary Kay cosmetics (“help yourself to anything in the bathroom drawers”) to helping her daughter run a mayoral candidate’s campaign (group of southern belles meeting at Betsy’s tomorrow night to ring around voters). I’ll bet you a few Texas oil refineries that the candidate ain’t a Democrat.
Third one was James from Uber (do they have a buy-10-get-one-free?). He was as Louisiana as crawfish and gumbo. Read as: I couldn’t understand a word he said. Young African American/Creole dude. So lovely. Read as: laughed at all my jokes.
He was raised by his grandmama out by the swamps and nursed her till she died from Alzheimer’s 6 months ago. Grandmama made her own root beer. I tried to grill him for recipe but all he knew was it involved copious amounts of vanilla extract.
Two guys from Dearborn, Michigan (“home of the Ford Motor Co”) in town for a food and music festival, a live country band, 4 drinkers, 7 other (in-bred … who said that??) diners and me are now at Randol’s Cajun restaurant trying hard to decide what to eat from a menu where you want to eat everything. Half of ‘em are up country dancing. Finish this equation: Bulging stomach + a few rounds of the dance floor = ?
Even an alligator would struggle to eat the portion sizes here. (Guess they’d skip the first appetiser – deep fried alligator bites).
This, folks, is shrimp etouffee. That yellow stuff is not a urine sample, it’s melted butter for my corn. When in Lafayette … That red stuff is Australian merlot, not for patriotism but because it’s the cheapestoption.
Sixth person I met was Stefan from Uber, ex-Denver, now studying mechanical engineering to get a job in oil biz. Wonder if he’s married. (Meet you in Reno, Jim?)
His first degree was in nutrition and worked at a Denver co developing a candy bar of peanut butter covered in toasted coconut. Perfection in a wrapper.
And here’s an interesting fact, just for you Stephen. Stefan (ha! You’ve got the same name) does endurance road cycling events and swears by peanut butter pouches, beef jerky and something else I’ve forgotten to fuel him. Reckons fat and protein are better than carbs.
7am tomorrow I’ll be first customer at Edie’s Biscuits just down the road. What a coincidence. It’s almost like I chose my accommodation to be nearby. Tell you what though I’ll either be Ubering everywhere or staying downtown all day. Lafayette is as sprawled out as a giant octopus. It’s 4 lane footpath-less roads the whole way.
One happy and 3kg heavier camper signing out.
Where I’ll be resting my head for the next 3 nights. Once I find the bed under the 7 decorative pillows.
This is a special post dedicated to Edie’s Biscuits.
I’ve never seen such cheap food and such unfailingly polite service. Everybody is “Miss Bridget” (in my case) or “Mr Carl” etc.
The 4 ft tall cute blond ponytailed waitress has been round 3 times to see if everything’s ok. She knows my life story by now.
$4.28 for a sausage and gravy biscuit, and a side of chicken fried steak. And all the free coffee I can drink.
I could’ve gotten 4 eggs, catfish, shrimp and a side of grits for $5. $5!!!! I took guidance from Mr Will Green, local trumpet player, in the queue behind me.
Aptly, or ironically, Karen Carpenter is singing ‘We’ve Only Just Begun’ over the sound system. (Say it with me Peter … Four words, first word T …)
4 mins later.
I’ve just had my first forkful of chicken fried steak, after reading about it for years and wondering, is it chicken? Is it steak? Hang on … just gotta grab another coffee …
Ok, I do not care it’s got more calories than I’ve eaten in the last 3 years, more fat than a CEO’s salary and more salt than in the Mississippi delta, this is indescribably delicious.
I’m gonna say no more because no words can do justice to chicken fried steak, biscuits and gravy.
Actually I am going to say more … I just unlocked Edie’s wifi by guessing the password. First time ever! How clever is that?
Ok this is super creepy … they’re playing ‘Let it Be’.
Second breakfast of the day. 2 hours wrestling gators this afternoon should burn off the calories.
