The Journey

Mary Driving the Steam Locomotive


Travel, like life, is about the journey and not about the destination. I'm here in Mollans finally but my gut feeling is that this spring's visit is going to be just that--a visit rather than a homecoming--and that the real substance of my thoughts will be reflections on all the wonderous ways and means it took to get here.

In the last few weeks, since railing in my last posting about paperwork, piles of work, and packing, I've been to Miami, Cuba, Miami, New York, the Paris airport, Avignon train station, Mollans, the port of Toulon, Corsica, the port of Nice, and back to Mollans.

I've been on multiple planes, buses, trains, including a steam-driven locomotive in Cuba, a horse-drawn taxi cart (read Cuba again), cars, and boats.

Now unpacked and settled for a too short stay here in our small village, I'm delighting in eating at home and even looking forward to some house-maintenance. It's great to light in one place for a while, especially when that place is home, be it part-time or not.

But my mind keeps trying to sort the jumble of sensory overload that I've brought with me. I need to unpack my mental suitcases as well as my physical ones and writing will help.

So, let's start chronologically and see what shakes out of my memory. The first city in my list, Miami, really just felt like a warm-up for my next stop in Cuba. I flew in and spent the night near the airport so as to be ready for the next morning's departure.

From very white bread Minneapolis, Miami and its multi-lingual and multi-accented population reminded me quickly that I'd be visiting a country where I don't know the language. The airport coffee bar staff person who gave me my total bill in Spanish along with my Cuban breakfast pastry was a quick intro to the next eight days of stepping out of the familiar and into the unknown.

Coming to Mollans isn't like that at all. I put on life here like a comfortable, cozy, well worn and washed tee-shirt. With friends, language and food all familiar now, I love the soft caress the fabric of my village gives me every time I return.

Cuba was different. With its "b" sounds for "v"s and its own dialect, my mind soon began working on the code of a newish language. While I can understand some Spanish because of my French, listening and reading became a mostly futile exercise. What I like to think of as the "Where's Waldo?" (or what the heck is happening now?) experience of travel started in full force.

And so, the week unfolded. We ate well, if simply for the most part, realizing that we Americans are incredibly spoiled by our abundance. Cuba's riches seemed to be elsewhere, in the people, the music, and the art. And the dance and the landscape. The rum and the cigars. In the peoples' sense of irony, humor, and love for their country.

That's not to down-play the Cuban food heritage but Cuba is not a hot-bed of prosperity, to put it mildly, leaving the possibilities for elaborate dining fairly limited. One of my favorite meals included Ropa de Vieja, a traditional braised beef dish that is now, like all beef, reserved for visitors. Since I recently taught a version at my home in Minneapolis, I'm including the recipe here. Try it and put on a little salsa music for atmosphere. More musings to come.

ROPA VIEJA OR “OLD CLOTHES” STEW
Braising Liquid
1 medium onion, coarsely chopped
1 stalk celery, coarsely chopped
2 garlic cloves, crushed
1 bay leaf
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon dried oregano
½ teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon peppercorns
2 cups water
1 (14-ounce) can reduced sodium beef broth

2 pounds skirt or flank steak, or 2 pounds boneless chuck roast

Stew
3 tablespoons olive oil
2 medium onions, chopped
1 large green bell pepper, chopped
1 serrano, seeded and chopped
3 garlic cloves, chopped
1 teaspoon ground cumin
¼ teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 (14.5 ounce) can diced tomatoes in juice
1 red bell pepper, cut in strips
1 yellow or orange bell pepper, cut in strips
½ cup chopped green olives with pimento
2 tablespoons capers

For the braising liquid, place the onion, celery, garlic, bay leaf, cumin, oregano, salt and peppercorns in the bottom of a Dutch oven. Add the water and beef broth; stir to blend. Add the beef and bring to a simmer over medium heat. Reduce heat to the lowest setting and cook covered with the lid just slightly ajar for 1 ½ to 2 hours for the skirt or flank steak and for 3 hours for the chuck roast. Turn the meat halfway through the cooking process. Remove from the heat and let the meat rest in the liquid for 30 minutes. Remove and slice the meat into ¼-inch thick strips against the grain. Strain the braising liquid and reserve. Clean the Dutch oven.

In the cleaned Dutch oven, add the olive oil and heat over medium-low heat. Add the chopped onions and green bell pepper; sauté until softened, about 6 minutes. Add the Serrano; sauté 2 minutes. Add the garlic, cumin and cinnamon; sauté 1 minute. Stir in the tomatoes, beef and 1 ½ cups of the braising liquid. Bring to a simmer over medium-heat. Reduce the heat to low and cook, stirring occasionally for 1 ½ hours.

During the last 15 minutes of cooking, stir in the red and yellow peppers, the green olives and the capers. Most of the liquid will have cooked off and the meat will have shredded. Add additional braising liquid as necessary if the mixture seems too dry. Serve with rice.

6 servings