A taste of California history: Santa Maria Style barbecue

by Laurel Miller on

Hey, Southerners. I love you, but the barbecue trail doesn’t really end at the Texas border. California has its own tradition, and it can be found in the heart of the Central Coast wine region. As a native Californian, I throw down the gauntlet in the temple of meat. Our beef barbecue doesn’t hide beneath sauce; it stands proudly on its own, adorned only by its residual juices. That takes balls. And speaking of balls, I should add that our barbecue historically comes with a side dish that, well…just keep reading.

Since the 1850’s, Santa Maria Style Barbecue has been a rancho celebration or post-cattle branding staple. After the Mexican-American War, when Mexico ceded California to the United States, Spanish and Mexican colonists and soldiers (“Californios”), established ranchos along California’s rich, central coastal grasslands.

Their heritage merged to form a true California cuisine, one that incorporated the corn, tomatoes, beans, and peppers of the New World with the beef, lamb, and olive oil of the Old World. The parilla, or grill, became the province of the vaqueros (cowboys) and rancheros (landowners). The mild, Mediterranean climate fostered a tradition of outdoor cooking still beloved by Californians today. Barbecues became a way to get down and party with one’s family and neighbors, to mark special occasions, and to partake of the culinary offerings that reminded these early settlers of their homelands.

[Photo credit: Flickr user yaelbeeri]

Only top sirloin or tri-tip steak can be used for Santa Maria Style Barbecue (depending upon where you do your research, it’s variously called Santa Maria bbq, Santa Maria Barbecue, etc.: I defer to the Santa Maria Chamber of Commerce version). Tri-tip is named for the small, triangular muscle off the bottom sirloin, from which it’s cut. It’s a fairly juicy piece of meat, with a bit of chew to it; it can be difficult to find outside of California.

The meat is seasoned only with salt, pepper, and garlic salt, and hung on steel rods, before being grilled over native red oak (originally, the meat was cooked in a pit). The accompaniments include tiny, pink, native pinquito beans, salsa cruda, and tossed green salad. The meat is served thinly sliced, with plenty of toasted, buttered, sweet French bread to sop up the juices.

I grew up eating Santa Maria barbecue because I come from a horse ranching family. We frequently attended rodeos and spring cattle gatherings, the successful completion of which are celebrated with a big barbecue. I recall watching the California equivalent of pit masters firing up massive grills fashioned out of halved oil drums, then rigging the hunks of meat on their skewers.

Years later, when my brother was attending college in San Luis Obispo, he would bring slabs of tri-tip home whenever he visited us. My favorite part were the salty, juicy, crusty bits of fat shaved from the grilled meat. My dad, himself a former wrangler, would present them to us on the tip of a knife, in between sneaking pieces for himself (I’m pretty sure this behavior had absolutely nothing to do with his colon cancer diagnosis 18 years ago). For days afterward, my mom would add tri-tip sandwiches to my lunch bag- a welcome respite from warm, soggy PB & J’s.

My first experience with an authentic California rancho barbecue occurred when I was ten. A former vet school classmate of my dad’s invited us up to his cattle ranch outside of Santa Maria, to participate in the spring cattle gathering. We spent a cold, dirty, exhausting weekend riding over rolling green hills, rounding up the cattle to be vaccinated, castrated, and branded.

Work done, it was time to party. The old oil drums were heaped with red oak, and as is the tradition with brandings, the calf “fries,” or testicles, were grilled up as an hors d’oeuvre. The charred, crispy little morsels, still tender and juicy on the inside, were then laid on a flour tortilla, slathered with salsa, and rolled up, taquito-style. At that stage of my life, pizza was a culinary adventure, so eating greasy “prarie oysters” wasn’t an option.

But when my dad smilingly presented me with a testicle taco, how could I refuse? To say no would be to disappoint the man who had given me life, to fail the cowboy brotherhood. I wouldn’t be one of the guys. I had to prove I had cojones of my own! I grabbed the dripping tortilla and bit down…chewed…swallowed. It was good: smoky, salty, a little chewy, the tortilla a perfect foil for the savory juices dribbling down my chin.

Yep. Tastes just like chicken.

Santa Maria Style Barbecue can be found in and around the towns of Santa Maria and San Luis Obispo, usually on weekends, at local charity events. If you’re jonesing for a taste of true California on a weekday, you can stop by or The Hitching Post in Casmalia, which is still considered tops in ‘cue. You can also call the Santa Maria Chamber of Commerce at (800) 331-3779, to see what’s smoking around town during your visit.

Black Knight Barbecue Sauce

My dad discovered this recipe in a magazine insert in the early ’70’s called “Chuckwagon Cooking from Marlboro Country.” He always served it with grilled tri-tip if we had guests from out of town so he could show off his adopted state’s cowboy and culinary heritage.

Makes approximately 2 ½ cups

1 cup strong black coffee
1 1/2 cups Worcestershire sauce
1 cups ketchup
1/2 cup unsalted butter
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice
2 T. sugar
1 T. salt
2 t. cayenne pepper

Combine ingredients in a medium saucepan and simmer for 30 minutes over low heat, stirring occasionally. Adjust seasonings to taste before serving.

[Photo credits: Los Osos, Flickr user goingslo; Branding, Flickr user marty 11; “Prairie Oysters,” Flickr user ffunyman]

5 tips for a budget traveler’s makeover

by Catherine Bodry on

I travel on the cheap, which means that instead of waking up refreshed and well-rested after a night in first class, I often wake up with dried drool on my chin and crazy hair from trying to get comfortable on an all-night bus or hard-seat train ride. Though I’ve certainly spent my fair share of mornings stumbling around a new city without bothering to wipe the drool or put my contact lenses in, lately, as a travel writer, I’ve tried to step things up a bit so that I’m at least marginally presentable. Here are my backpacker secrets to looking (a bit more) rested and not like you spent half the night in a smoky bus with a Chinese soap opera blaring on the TV.

1. Wash your face. I carry baby wipes in my bag, and these do double duty as face wash and hand sanitizer (and they work well as their intended use, toilet paper). It always feels so good to wipe the road grit and cigarette smoke off of my neck and face, and if I do nothing else to make myself feel and look better, this act can be enough. It’s pretty satisfying, though a little frightening, to see the color of the wipe after I’ve run it over my face.

2. Run a comb through it or cover it up. My hair is too short to pull back in a ponytail, and it’s often pretty kinky in the morning. If you have long hair, brush it out and pull it back – the brushing makes a huge difference. If it’s short, brush it out and put a bandanna on. Sometimes I can get away with using the bandanna as a headband, but often I just need to full-on cover my whole head up. If you’ve run out of baby wipes, the bandanna can also be used as a washcloth – wet it with your water bottle and wipe your face down.

3. Rub a little cream on. Eye cream is fantastic: it comes in tiny little bottles that you can stuff in your bag, and the right stuff will instantly brighten your face. This is something I splurge on; it’s not cheap but I find it a useful investment. I’ve tried, and like, Naturopathica’s Vitamin K Brightening Eye Serum, and Prescriptives’ Vibrant C Skin Brightening Eye Cream. Depending on the product I’m using, I’ll dab it on my forehead and cheeks as well.

4. Use gum or a breath mint. You may not have the opportunity to brush your teeth before going to sleep or after waking up, so pop something minty in there before making conversations. It may seem obvious, but I don’t normally chew gum so don’t usually carry it in my bag. Still, I put it on my travel checklist for the occasions when I need to get close to someone.

5. Drink water. You’re likely dehydrated after traveling long distance. I know I often don’t drink water just so I can avoid having to use the bathroom on an all-night ride. But when you’re about to arrive you can drink away. Downing a small bottle of water will not only make your skin look more refreshed, but it will make you feel better, too. I always travel with Emergen-C, which also helps revive me.

Any other tips for looking and feeling refreshed on the road? Share with us in the comments section.

[Photo Credit: Flickr user stevendepolo]

Budget travel tip: Ask to use a hotel’s hospitality suite

by Amy Chen on

I often book red-eye flights in order to save money and to spend more time in my destination — without having to pay for an extra night’s hotel.

Depending on your destination, even after you officially check out, you may also be able to use a hotel’s hospitality suite to get cleaned up. I’ve had the best luck in Hawaii, where resorts seem the most sympathetic to people wanting to squeeze in extra beach time (and to people wanting to scrub off the sand before the flight home).

After checking out in the morning, I ask to leave my bags at the hotel, and then I either go off during the day for more sightseeing and eating, or I hang out on the resort property (with permission, of course).

Several years ago, I spent Labor Day weekend with my mom on the Big Island of Hawaii. Our flight was scheduled to leave at night, so we spent much of our departure day relaxing at the resort. Having joined a full-day Circle Island tour the day before — which required waking up at 6 a.m. — I was more than happy to do absolutely nothing but laze around the pool at the Hilton Waikoloa Village. In the afternoon, my mom participated in a water aerobics class, and I napped under the shade of a beach umbrella. We ate, read a bit, and went swimming.

When it was time to get ready to leave for the airport, we went back to the front desk and were given a key to a spare hotel room, where we could shower, change, and otherwise make ourselves presentable for the return flight. I felt refreshed and though few people ever are ready to leave Hawaii, it was a mellow way to end a mellow vacation.

Here are five ways to make the most of a hotel’s generosity:
5 Tips for Using a Hospitality Suite

1. Ask your hotel for permission to use the hospitality suite before you check out and before you jump in the pool or head to the beach. If for some reason the hotel is fully booked or has changed its policy, you don’t want to be caught soaking wet.

2. Make sure you keep a change of clothes with your day bag. You don’t want to have to ask the bellhop to retrieve your luggage and then dig around your suitcase with everything — and I mean everything — splayed out in the lobby.

3. The standard allotted time for using a hospitality suite seems to be 30 minutes. If there are two people who need to shower and otherwise beautify themselves, you may need to yell at the other person to hurry up. Or agree that the person who takes the least amount of time should go first.

4. It doesn’t hurt to leave a tip in the hospitality suite. The housekeeper does, after all, have to refresh the towels and toiletries.

5. Though I’ve yet to try this, I’m told that some hotels may let you use the spa facilities or showers if you arrive super early on a red-eye flight and your rooms aren’t ready until later that afternoon. Though many hotels graciously hold your bags until check-in time, I know I would especially appreciate having access to a shower if I land at 6 a.m. and the room isn’t ready until 3 p.m. As always, it’s best to work closely with the front desk to make sure the hotel can accommodate any special requests or arrival times.

[Photo Credit: Amy Chen]

Four Chincoteague tips

by Alex Robertson Textor on

Chincoteague, Virginia, located just a few miles south of the Maryland border on the Delmarva Peninsula, is best known for a children’s novel, Misty of Chincoteague, published by Marguerite Henry in 1947. Misty is a beloved pony.

Beloved ponies provide the key to Chincoteague, and the local ponies, called Chincoteague Ponies, are essential to the Chincoteague mystique to this day. In late July, there is a pony migration by water from neighborhing Assateague Island to Chincoteague Island. After swimming across the channel separating the two islands, the ponies are penned and then sold at auction. Jay Jones wrote an entertaining story in the Los Angeles Times back in July about the pony migration.

Old-timers will tell stories of a place that used to be far quieter, with fewer facilities, though to many visitors Chincoteague will appear rather rustic today. Its downtown is full of little tourist shops, while the long strip of Maddox Road leading out to the Chincoteague National Wildlife Refuge is full of chain restaurants, miniature golf courses, tchotchke stores, and supermarkets. Chincoteague is affordable, low-key, and unpretentious.

The National Wildlife Refuge is the most beautiful part of Chincoteague, and includes a vast swath of broad beach. The beach gets very busy in the summer, of course, though it seldom forces sunseekers into cheek by jowl proximity.

Here are four retail and activity tips for Chincoteague.

1. Woody’s Beach BBQ, 6700 Maddox Boulevard. The best barbecue in town is also one of the newest arrivals on the local restaurant scene. Woody’s does fantastic chicken, pork, sandwiches, sides, and desserts. The “Fam Packs” are cost-effective for feeding hungry armies of friends and family.

2. Main Street Shop & Coffeehouse, 4288 Main Street. Housed in an early twentieth-century house, Main Street Shop and Coffeehouse is imbued with a casual if relatively upscale charm. The coffeehouse component of the Main Street Shop is but a tiny piece of the establishment, which is otherwise concerned with home wares, gift cards, books, and clothing. This is the best place in Chincoteague to fuel up on caffeine.

3. Bike rental. Check out Jus’ Bikes (6527 Maddox Boulevard) for a bike rental. (Jus’ Bikes, rather confusingly, rents more than just bikes, but no matter.) A bike will allow you to enter and exit the Chincoteague National Wildlife Refuge free of charge. Multiday rentals will amount to around $10 per day for your rental.

4. Mister Whippy, 6201 Maddox Boulevard. Soft-serve ice cream and sundaes are an essential component of the Chincoteague experience, and Mister Whippy is the old favorite.

(Image: Flickr/U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service – Northeast Region)

Solo women’s travel surges in popularity

by Laurel Miller on

Despite what the much over-hyped film (not the book) Eat Pray Love would have us think, solo female travelers did exist before Elizabeth Gilbert. The difference, I think, is that now that Julia Roberts is starring in a movie about it, it’s suddenly viewed by mainstream America as “okay.”

And that’s okay. I may be a bit annoyed by the fact that Hollywood is responsible, but at the end of the day, who cares? It’s just great that experienced independent travelers will get less grief, and women who might not otherwise attempt a solo trip are now inspired to do so. The sheer volume of women-oriented travel companies has been steadily rising over the last five or so years, and now it looks like we’re hitting the tipping point.

While traveling alone is never easy for a woman, it’s comparatively a piece of cake now, compared to what women of even my mother’s generation must have endured. Yet, as a 41-year-old American female, I’m often amazed by how concerned other people are about my marital status (or lack thereof), my plans for my uterus (or lack thereof), and how I can afford to travel/who’s going to take care of me when I’m older/when am I going to grow up? I can handle these questions when there are cultural differences involved (sometimes with gritted teeth, like when I was 32, and a young Israeli male told me I’d better “find someone to marry quickly,” before I was “too old and ugly.” Sweet.).

I’ve never been one to give much of a hang about what others think, or else I wouldn’t have been able to put up with the comments denigrating my lifestyle. I hear them less now that I’m somewhat older (read: approaching end of child-bearing years), and because travel writing is now my profession. Unlike countries such as Australia or New Zealand, where a “gap year” of travel before university is a rite of passage, most Americans still tend to be constrained by what they view as adult, or gender-related, responsibilities.

Things are changing, of course. But the release of a book-turned-movie appears to have done more for the advocacy of independent women’s travel in one summer than I’ve experienced in a decade of travel journalism. A recent CNN article citing Eat Pray Love as inspiration profiles two women: a widow taking an early retirement, and a 32-year-old, now-frequent traveler who bit the travel bullet after being laid off in her late twenties.

I should hasten to add that I don’t consider myself a feminist (for a multitude of reasons that have no place on a travel blog), and I’m fond of describing myself as “spiritually bankrupt.” I don’t travel to be a “strong” woman, or find enlightenment. Travel is a highly personal thing, and everyone has their own reasons for doing, or not doing, it. I don’t care why other people travel; I just applaud the fact that they do, as long as they’re respectful of other cultures and the environment. I travel because it’s the thing I love most: it’s what motivates and inspires me, both personally and professionally, and I find it endlessly fascinating, even when things are going awry. I love learning about different cultures, trying new foods, seeing new landscapes. I love riding a bus for 24 hours, because it’s part of the experience. And yes, I prefer to travel alone.

Am I running away from something? I don’t know. I don’t think so. Will I ever settle down and stop traveling? Um, no. Am I ditching adult responsibilities? Nope. I have a home base, pay my bills on time, work a couple of “stationary” jobs, because travel writing isn’t lucrative. I’m in a long-term, committed relationship, I have plants. Sometimes I get burned out on travel, or have a disastrous trip. But within a day or two of arriving home, I’m always ready to plan the next adventure, and get on the road again as soon as possible. I do gain confidence from traveling alone, and thrive on its challenges. It’s a reminder that I can accomplish the goals I set for myself, For some, that might be called self-empowerment. For me, it’s just a lifestyle choice.

Not everyone is programmed to live the life society dictates, and plenty of people living so-called conventional lives, including mothers, find ways to make travel a part of their lives. Here’s to a national cultural shift that supports the exploration of the world outside our own bubble. Whatever set of gonads you happen to possess.