Category: Living

Food, Living

Coimbra, Portugal – An unexpected pleasure!

Jane Bauer

When I travel I am always looking for that one place that will beckon me to stop moving and stay a little longer.  It’s usually a small town, void of ‘hop-on hop-off’ buses or Michelin-rated restaurants, just something about the people that makes you slow down and pause. In Italy it was a place called Bevagna, in Mexico it was Mazunte and in Portugal it was Coimbra.

library-coimbra-interiorThe country’s former capital is home to the oldest university and has a mind-blowing library with an outstanding rare books collection, including several versions of The Bible form the 14th century.  One of the biggest “enemies” of the books is, apart from the humidity and temperature differences, the moths that feed on paper. The bookcases are made of oakwood which, apart from being extremely dense (making it difficult for the bugs to penetrate), has a scent that repels them. The books have yet another ally in this daily fight for conservation: the interior of this book temple houses a colony of bats which spend the night eating any insect that appears, thus freeing the books from their attack.

The Machado de Castro Museum was stunningly beautiful and while I usually tire quickly of religious art these pieces were so breathtaking that they seemed to transport you to another time, they beckoned silence and awe. The museum is built over a Roman crypt that you can visit- cool underground tunnels and arches.

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During my stay I had the privilege of participating in a private cooking workshop at the Escola de Hotelaria e Turismo. I inquired at my hotel and the owner went above and beyond in making this happen. I arrived at the school and was welcomed by the administrator and introduced to Chef Emanuel and his students Raquel and Rita. Chef explained the dishes we would be preparing; duck rice, octopus, bacaloa (cod), pork, Portuguese gazpacho, lemon rice pudding… just to name a few.  We worked in the commercial kitchen of the cooking school- all gleaming stainless steel and lots of space. The duck rice was phenomenal- rice that is cooked with duck stock and served with shredded roasted duck meat. The tender octopus was served with oven-roasted smashed potatoes and topped with a few splashes of olive oil and sea salt.  The rice pudding dessert was the perfect amount of sweetness and the creaminess contrasted perfectly with the bright lemon flavor. All served with delicious wine of course. Beyond the food, I loved the chance to talk with Raquel and Rita and to learn more about their lives in this region and what they hoped to do once they finished school.

Hands down this was the highlight of my journey!

Where to stay in Coimbra:  http://www.theluggagehostel.com/en/Utilities/Homepage.aspx

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Food, Living

Cooking Class in Marrakech

Jane Bauer

You may think you have never taken a cooking class but I bet you have. Maybe you didn’t learn to make gnocchi while you traveled through Italy or handmade tortillas in Mexico, but I am sure you have shared kitchen secrets. Your first teacher was likely your mother inviting you to mix the batter as she made oatmeal cookies, your father teaching you to flip a pancake on a Sunday morning and later your college roommate showing you how to make the perfect margarita. Food is the common denominator, a meal shared is the ultimate communication.

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A couple of weeks ago I had the pleasure of taking a cooking class in Marrakesh at Faim D’Epices. My instructor Ilam, a lovely young woman originally from Meknes (land of olives and wine) led me through the making of a beef, pear and orange tagine (a slow-cooked stew done stovetop in a clay pot), a traditional wheat and semolina bread and msemens (Morocco’s equivalent to flour tortillas).

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The Faim D’Epices Cooking School is located about 30 minutes from the center and after you have traipsed through Marrakesh’s busy Medina (old town) the open landscape is a welcome change with orchards of orange trees and friendly dogs to welcome you.

During the class we were taught how to check the authenticity of saffron- rub a piece on white paper and the color should be yellow, never red. Saffron is the highly prized dried stigma of the crocus flower, it takes over 70000 blossoms to make a pound of saffron, making it the most expensive spice in the world.

We were also taught about argan oil. The argan tree is only found in a small region of southwestern Morocco and has not been successfully transplanted anywhere else. The argan tree has the amazing quality of pulling water from the ground and in the driest areas you will see everything brown except for the green of the argan tree. Because of this, goats have been known to climb the tree and eat the leaves. To check the authenticity of your oil you can put it in the freezer. Different oils freeze at different temperatures so they will separate and you will be able to see if your oil is pure.

18767221_10158757557275243_1599565076_oThe highlight of the class was the opportunity to meet Ilam. When touring Morocco most of the Moroccan people you interact with are men. Most of the waiters, tour guides and even hotel staff tended to be men, so I really appreciated the chance to chat with Ilam over lunch.

Overall a great experience!

 

Cooking classes in Marrakesh: http://www.faimdepices.com/

Cooking Classes with me in Huatulco, Mexico: http://www.huatulcocookingclasses.com/

 

 

Living

On beauty in Madrid…

Jane Bauer

Despite humans wanting to be practical and efficient, we are helplessly drawn to beauty. That’s what I thought as I watched the clusters of people at the museums and botanical garden in Madrid. We have a collective need for creativity that pushes us beyond ‘survival’ being enough in this crazy world.

Museums can be overwhelming. It is almost impossible to take in that much beauty at once. I like to find 2-3 paintings or aspects of the museum that ‘speak’ to me to make the experience more memorable.

The Women of the Thyssen Museum:

  1. salmon wallsCarmen Thyssen, a baroness through her marriage to her third husband Heinrich and Miss Spain in 1961, started collecting art in the 1980s using her husband’s fortune. She amassed a collection that includes Monet, Braque, Hassam, Rubens, Degas and many more. There has been a lot of social scandal concerning her collection since her husband’s death that make her life sound like a telenovela. In the museum, the walls are all salmon pink, it is SO bold and one of the requirements made by Carmen. In 2011, she also opened a museum in Malaga that focuses primarily on 19th century Spanish art.

 

  1. hotel roomThe nameless woman in The Hotel Room by Edward Hopper is a wonderful piece for a solo female traveler to contemplate. Here is what the museum has to say about this extraordinary work:

“The loneliness of the modern city is a central theme in Hopper’s work. In this painting, a woman sits on the edge of a bed in an anonymous hotel room. It is night and she is tired. She has taken off her hat, dress and shoes, and—too exhausted to unpack—she is checking the time of her train the next day. The space is confined by the wall in the foreground and the chest of drawers on the right; while the long diagonal line of the bed directs our gaze to the background, where an open window turns the viewer into a voyeur on what is happening in the room. The female figure, sunk in her own thoughts, contrasts with the coldness of the room, whose sharp lines and bright, flat colours are heightened by strong artificial lighting from above.”

  1. duchessDuchess Millicent Sutherland painted by John Singer Sargent in 1904 was much more than a pretty face. A fierce advocate for social reform and better working conditions despite her social status, she was sometimes called ‘meddlesome Millie’. During WW1 she organized an ambulance unit and was recognized by the Belgium, French and British Red Cross for her work during the war. She was married three times and penned several novels. The 1926 review of her novel ‘That Fool of a Woman’ in The Saturday Review stated: The power of the book lies in an emotional but extremely intelligent style, in an analysis of character which is revealed as much by detail as by words, in a feeling for atmosphere (war-charged Europe is particularly real), but mostly in the fact that the heroine is a sentimental heroine with a brain. Never does she see her mistakes quite in time—but neither is she hopelessly stupid nor a wilful misrepresenter of unflattering fact. Lonely, lovely, sentimental creature that she is, very much too late she sees the wherefore and why of foolish choice and subsequent disaster.

More than a pretty face indeed!

 

 

 

Living

Have you heard of Gravitational Time Dilation?

Jane Bauer

18452419_10158668850100243_417530408_oIt’s my birthday,  I am traveling (currently in Madrid) and one of the gifts I want to give myself is more time for writing … we’ll see how I do prioritizing this luxury.

Time, birthdays, travel, aging… uff!

Have you heard of gravitational time dilation?

When I first moved to Mexico, 20 years ago, I was living in a small village, learning the language, ‘roughing’ it with no electricity and experiencing a life that was very different from the way I was raised. When I would travel back to Canada I would l have the feeling of being on the outside of things, like I were watching life around me instead of engaging with it. I thought it was the change in amenities- things that now seemed so inconsequential like whether my peanut butter was crunchy or smooth or if someone was a bit late.  I haven’t had that feeling in a while – I figured I had grown accustomed to traveling between worlds.

This trip is my first time out of Mexico in almost a year. For the first time in ages I find myself slightly on the outside of things. There are SO many people! Plus, they are all moving about twice as fast as me, talking twice as fast and many are upset.  I was scolded almost as soon as I got off the plane by airport security for taking a photo of the airport. This is the effect of Mexico; I am slower, more aware and have built up a tolerance for withstanding things not going the way I expect them to.

My best friend talks about her soul catching up to her body when she travels a long distance. The urban dictionary calls this ‘soul ‘delay’.  It is a concept that gets attributed to African tribes or native Americans who would stop on a journey to let their souls catch up. Whether this is true or not I don’t know. What I do know is that there is a feeling that occurs when we move a vast distance at a great speed.  I find myself having to emerge back into the world- from where I don’t know.

In 1971, scientists Hafele and Keating flew celsium beam atomic clocks around the world twice on commercial airline flights- once going East and once going West. The clocks that traveled the world read different times compared to the clocks that stayed on the ground. This is because of the theory of gravitational time dilation.  The weaker the gravitational potential (the farther the clock is from the source of gravitation), the faster time passes. Well, if that is what happens to a clock, imagine the complexity of the human soul!

Thanks for reading

Jane

 

 

Living

On Technology…

Jane Bauer

april coverEditorial of the April issue of The Eye. Thanks for reading! http://www.TheEyeHuatulco.com

“It has become appallingly obvious that our technology has exceeded our humanity.”

Albert Einstein

I am a technology resister- without a doubt more Wilma Flintstone than Judy Jetson. I read books not tablets – I love the smell and feel of paper over the subtle hum of electronics. My daily planner is one of those cumbersome paper ones and it never leaves my office. While some might view this as an inconvenient method to run a business, as I need to be physically in my office to schedule anything – for me it is a luxury.

I was very resistant to getting an iPhone. Did I really need email alerts at the grocery store or to check Facebook when I was out with real people? Eventually I gave in. When the screen got smashed up I continued to use it for months. It still worked – as a phone. Upon seeing my damaged phone, one woman remarked that I deserved a new one and that I should ‘treat’ myself. I responded that the treat was to not be so attached to my phone.

Don’t get me wrong – I think technology is cool, science is cool, talking to a friend on the other side of the planet with the touch of a button on a cordless device is super cool! But most us have become slaves to technology. We are desperately creating electronic scrapbooks of moments that are gone. Filling fake clouds with stuff we don’t even know why we’re saving, or what for. We are living with sound bites rather than substance. Our everyday lives have become a virtual existence rather than one based in reality – most of our communication is via devices and shared moments happen through screens, which capture the aesthetics of a moment but not the emotion – technology has not managed to capture the subtlety of human experience. There is no emoji to capture … all the best moments. The flicker of a feeling you get when you walk on a crisp fall day and for a second you know everything is going to be ok … a flicker of inner peace.

So has technology exceeded our humanity? Has it dumbed us down to communicate our feelings via emojis? Sanskrit has 96 words for love. We have happy faces with hearts for eyes.

Did Albert Einstein even really say that? I wish he had – it would fit perfectly with my beliefs – add some heft to the idea that what we are experiencing is a momentous and scary collective experience. But ironically there is no proof that he even said it. It is a perfect example of the soundbite machine roller coaster we are all on, where it seems if something gets repeated enough it could be true … alternative quotes.

See you next month,

Jane

 

Living, Mexico

International Women’s Day

Jane Bauer

March Cover

Editorial of the March issue of The Eye. Thanks for reading! http://www.TheEyeHuatulco.com

“We are at our most powerful the moment we no longer need to be powerful.”

Eric Micha’el Leventhal

March 8th is International Women’s Day, and so this issue is dedicated to women. I was born bold and have never shirked a good discussion regarding the horrendous status of women in the world, I am the mother to a wonderful daughter and I am a woman myself – all of which would make it seem that writing this editorial should be a piece of cake.

However I find each time I start to write I come up against some emotion or tone that I do not want to convey: anger, hurt, dismay or the worst – sounding like a ‘victim’ of my ‘womaness’ in any form. ‘Victim’ has become such a dirty word, associated with weakness and pity. Those of us fortunate enough to have horrible things happen to us in places with psycho-babble help at our disposal are taught to refer to ourselves as ‘survivors’ because it connotes empowerment and strength rather than injury. But I am starting to wonder whether our ‘survival mode’ makes perpetrators less accountable. What becomes measured is our ability to deal with pain and injury rather than making those doling it out accountable. We stop talking about the ‘harm’ done for fear of sounding like whiners.

Somewhere between being strong and capable our softness gets brushed aside. I don’t want to be a whiner and I certainly don’t want to let bad experiences come to define me, but I think there needs to be a moment of being the victim- acknowledging that we become affected by our experiences. I don’t want to be an emotional Navy Seal- all hard edges and ready to conquer whatever life throws at me. I want to embrace the sensuality of my femininity without hiding the scars, I want to remain open and generous in a world that challenges me to do so daily.

I think the answer lies somewhere in between. Maybe rather than cringe at the word ‘victim’ we need to change our connotations. Victims are not weak or to be pitied – they have been hurt. We are all victims of the human experience in some way or another – every single one of us has been wronged by circumstances or other people. This universality does not need to diminish the importance of individual experience. Possibly in acknowledging the pain and hurt, rather than simply surviving it, we can find common ground that will lead to greater empathy and compassion with those around us.

Let us honor the softness and vulnerability of the human spirit – in both men and women. Let us not have to shout to be heard but allow our whispers to shake the world.

Living

Happy Love Month!

Jane Bauer

february-coverHappy Love Month! This is my editorial from The Eye magazine this month. For those of you who don’t me personally, I am the editor of an English-language magazine in Mexico called The Eye, in addition to owning a restaurant and a cooking school. The magazine really allows me to explore different aspects of life in Mexico and connect with amazing writers and of course our readers. You can check out current and back issues online at http://www.TheEyeHuatulco.com or if you are fortunate enough to be in Oaxaca or Huatulco you can pick up a hard copy.

 

Editor’s Letter | Beach, Village & Urban Living in Oaxaca

“I need to be alone. I need to ponder my shame and my despair in seclusion; I need the sunshine and the paving stones of the streets without companions, without conversation, face to face with myself, with only the music of my heart for company.”

― Henry Miller, Tropic of Cancer

I am feeling very exhausted. Everywhere people are bubbling over with their opinions, demanding their right to be heard but it seems we are so busy talking that the entire planet has actually stopped listening. All mouths are open and everyone I meet is ready to let me know where they stand on the state of world politics – by this I mean American politics – since WWII, America has prided itself on being the leader of the Free World and the consequence is that much of the world feels totally within its rights to weigh in. Add that to the fact that America has rarely hesitated to weigh in on the politics of other nations – and we all carry our opinions about those actions – layers and layers of ‘I thinks’ and ‘I believes’- each of us holding onto these values, believing that they have come to define us.

Strangely for me, an outspoken feminist, the day of The March did not incite in me the feeling of power it seemed to for the rest of my contemporaries. As I looked through my social media feed and saw photos of many people I respected taking to the streets, I felt sad rather than exhilarated. I felt even sadder when I read comments from those who were against the march. I asked myself… ‘Can I respect people whose opinions are so offensive to me and different from my own?’

Here’s what I realized. The wall has already been built. Without laying a single brick we have completely divided ourselves by allowing our beliefs to define and separate us. None of the issues being presented at the moment are new; access to abortion, equal pay, sexual assault, immigration reform, gay rights, police brutality. These are not just issues concerning the USA – these are issues we need to be concerned about worldwide. Human rights are a problem worldwide. There are many people around the world who do not have the privilege and freedom to attend a march or have access to rant on social media. If you are even reading this, you are most likely a lot ‘freer’ than the rest of the world.

If we really don’t want a wall, we need to stop talking. We need to stop shouting at people to love more. Shhhhhhh. Enjoy the silence. Listen to your heart beating inside your body. Before your gender, your culture, the randomness of the country where you were born, the religious and political beliefs you were raised with- before all that, you were just a beating heart, in the bubble of quiet of your mother’s womb. It was safe. You were most definitely loved.

Can I respect people whose opinions are offensive to me and different from my own? If I really want to be a part of the change I want to see, then I am going to have to learn to.

Happy Valentine’s Day,

Jane

Living

Happy New Year!

Jane Bauer

the-eye-jan-2017This is my editorial from The Eye magazine this month. For those of you who don’t me personally, I am the editor of an English-language magazine in Mexico called The Eye, in addition to owning a restaurant and a cooking school. The magazine really allows me to explore different aspects of life in Mexico and connect with amazing writers and of course our readers. You can check out current and back issues online at http://www.TheEyeHuatulco.com or if you are fortunate enough to be in Oaxaca or Huatulco you can pick up a hard copy.

Happy New Year!

“The Seven Social Sins are:

Wealth without work.

Pleasure without conscience.

Knowledge without character.

Commerce without morality.

Science without humanity.

Worship without sacrifice.

Politics without principle.

From a sermon given by Frederick Lewis Donaldson in Westminster Abbey, London, on March 20, 1925.”

There has been a lot of chatter about how crappy 2016 was. The list of mishaps for humanity and social consciousness is staggering; Brexit, the US election, Syria, school shootings, a return to misogynistic and racist comments being socially acceptable and all the fake news, to mention just a few of the cringe-worthy items that happened this year. Headlines have become so ridiculous and we seem to be living in a time where truth really is stranger than fiction. With all of that, most of us are hoping that 2017 will be better. However, I doubt it will be. How can I be so cynical? Because 2017 isn’t a thing, it’s time. People in 2016 were full of hate, greed and intolerance. We are those people.

Even if you are thinking, ‘Well not me, I was good,’ or maybe you are thinking about all the good stuff you did in 2016: helping people out, donating to causes, listening to your daily affirmations on your new phone or in your car while you drove to work. I’m sure you work hard for all that you have and that you mean well – me too. But if 2017 is going to be better, we have to be better – a whole lot better! I don’t know if we can do it. We are selfish by nature.

How far would you go? Would you invite a stranger to live in your spare room to help the refugee crisis? Would you stop driving to help the environment? Would you tolerate a woman’s right to have an abortion, even if you don’t agree with it? Would you let a person choose which bathroom to use based on which gender they identify with, even if you don’t agree with their choice?

We need to: Love more. Support women’s rights. Protect children from human trafficking. No more walls. Read books. Stop watching shitty TV. Eat real food – support farmers. Walk more. Take public transportation. Talk to our neighbors. Stop buying stuff we don’t need – it won’t make us happy. Stop feeding the hate machine. Stop hating immigrants – it’s called globalization and it is part of our progress. Improve human rights in other countries- we need to stop buying cheap goods made by little hands. Pay more for less.

If we are really going to be better in 2017, we are going to have to sacrifice some of our comfort, some of our feeling of entitlement and start nourishing the love machine until peace, not violence and hatred, is the norm of our human condition.

See you next month,

Jane

 

Food, Living

It takes a village… the building of our Chiles&Chocolate Cooking School

Jane Bauer

picmonkey-collageI have been involved in several building projects while living in Mexico but none has been as exciting or as rewarding for me as our Chiles&Chocolate Cooking School. Located in the village of Zimatan, I wanted the building to fit in with the architecture of the buildings in this rural area. Most of the houses in the village are rectangular with small windows and galvanized metal roofing. Since our cooking classes showcase the beauty and dignity of Oaxacan cooking, our building needed to be a testament to that as well. In the same way a mole recipe evolves using the ingredients of a particular area, our building needed to use materials that were found around us; river rock, stone, wood and I felt the same should be applied to labor.

Village life is very gender segregated. Women in my village are not even permitted to attend town meetings unless they are the ‘head of their household’- meaning they have no husband. So I was more than a little nervous as this project was my first time building without a husband to negotiate and deal with decisions such as where to put the septic tank.

Blandino, the mason, and his two sons, who live in the village, collected rock from around the property to build our retaining wall and patio. In other projects I have been involved with we always ordered our cement blocks already made from the hardware store. Blandino mentioned that Andres, a man in our village, made blocks, so we decided to make them on-site. This decision led to us having a higher quality block, it was about the same price as buying the ready-made blocks, but we also created a job.

Seeing Andres make blocks was amazing. All cement was mixed by hand, poured into molds and then set in the sun to dry. When it came time to get a door, the metal smith in the village made one and the electrician who installed the lights lives just a few doors down.

In the cooking classes I talk a lot about the dignity of what we term ‘women’s work’- cooking, housekeeping, child rearing. My experience of being a stay-at-home mother in Mexico during my daughter’s early years was life changing and forced me to reevaluate my own ideas about gender. It was the beauty of this time that led me to want to give cooking classes.

I always have thought of the cooking classes as a way of shedding light on the dignity of ‘women’s work’ but as I look around the cooking school it dawns on me that the building is truly a testament to the beauty of ‘men’s work’.  Much in the same way it takes a village to make a tortilla; men to grow the corn and women to grind, form and cook it on the comal, our cooking school is the product of a long line of tradition.

For more information about our classes: www.HuatulcoCookingClasses.com

Living

Election Thoughts

Jane Bauer

libertycrying1

It’s an awkward situation. You can hear your neighbor next door raising his voice, punching a wall, talking shit. Should you say anything? Is it any of your business? It’s so ugly. The voices get louder, he’s calling her all sorts of names, the kids are crying and then a fatal punch… boom.

It’s late. I should be in bed as I have to get up early, but I am drawn to the election results like a bad accident and as the numbers go up in favor of Donald Trump I feel sick. I am not American- is it even my problem? Am I entitled to feel the complete disgust that is washing over me?

I loved the posts earlier in the day of women flocking to Susan B Anthony’s grave because it highlighted the importance of gender in this election- wait… that is still too narrow, as ‘election’ implies that for just this moment, as though it is important- because maybe something just happened. But that’s not it… Gender is ALWAYS the issue. Yet, it is the issue that gets brushed aside like some Mad Men ad exec asking a woman to bring him coffee with a hearty guffaw and then calling her uppity if she dares to protest.

The election season in the US has been a shit-show, a live-Jerry-Springer for those of us on the outside, but during the whole thing I have been amazed at how gender has taken a backseat to ‘black-lives-matter’ and the economy (women still earning 77 cents on the dollar with men in the US) with a gentle pat on the back and condescending ‘we’ll get to you later dear… calm down.’

In many places throughout the world, women are denied access to education, married as children or forced into human trafficking. Gender issues transcend race by being inclusive of the majority of the population and yet in this past election were sidebars. Anti-women propaganda and behavior was labeled ‘inappropriate’ rather than criminal and women’s issues were barely discussed with any real seriousness.

With the results of the US election, I feel a great sadness for the women that came before me. For the first time, it feels like their strides have been too short. I feel sadness for myself and my daughter, for the women in my Mexican village who are not allowed to attend town meetings, for the single mothers of the world, for women earning half of what men earn, for the women who believe their sexuality is their greatest asset, for the women wishing they had a voice in their own homes, for the women who need to work against ‘feeling’ like a victim in a society that victimizes them every day with a worldwide political system that belittles their power.

I am so tired of Donald Trump and the culture of slicing and dicing up our self-esteem and measuring our worth. I am sick of the American media machine that had a female candidate defending being ‘nasty’. Enough! There are more important issues and they involve humanity. They involve slowing down the ‘hate and winning machine’ and working on ‘empowering, cooperation and finding solutions.’

What do you say to your neighbor when you see her the next day with a black eye and a swollen lip? I don’t know.