Green Chile Stew
1 tablespoon oil
2 pounds cubed beef or pork stew meat
1 medium onion, chopped
1½ cups beef broth
1 (4-ounce) can chopped green chilies
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon garlic powder
Salt, to taste
Ground black pepper, to taste
2 large potatoes, peeled and cubed
Heat oil in a large pot over medium heat. Brown meat and onion until the onion is translucent. Add broth and green chilies. Stir in cumin, garlic powder, salt and pepper. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer for 1 hour. (Add more broth or water if needed while simmering.) Stir in cubed potatoes and simmer an additional 30 minutes, or until tender.
Note: Caro’s girls like this stew boiled down until it’s thick enough to use in a tortilla.
Note: It’s worth buying pork stew meat when you can find it and freezing it for later. Pork is so good with green chilies.
Note: This is easy to convert to a slow-cooker recipe. Add browned meat and everything but the potatoes to a slow cooker. Cook on low 4 to 6 hours. Add potatoes for the final hour.
Chapter 24
Sadie woke up in Albuquerque and listened to the silence of her hotel for ten minutes before getting out of bed. It was strange to have an empty day all to herself. Sadie hadn’t had one in months, and except for the continual thoughts on how much more fun Albuquerque would be with Caro, it might have been a nearly perfect Friday.
Sadie took one of the walking tours that began at the Albuquerque Museum of Art, History, and Science, and then went shopping at the cute boutiques in Old Town. But without Caro to tell her she looked maravillosa, she lacked confidence in her choices. She ate lunch in an open-air café—Frito pie with green sauce, as opposed to the red sauce—people-watching all the extra tourists the Fiesta had brought to town, and enjoyed the warmth of the sun as the light dappled through the trees overhanging the patio.
If only she didn’t miss Caro so much. And Pete too, not to mention her children, to whom she hadn’t talked for nearly a week. She feared she’d been pushing them away again, but she wasn’t sure how to reassure them that she was okay. Why were her relationships so complicated?
She picked up a historical novel set in New Mexico from a little bookstore in Old Town and read it beside the hotel pool while getting a little color on her legs. After a conversation with Pete via the hotel phone, where he explained his attempts to help Caro understand things from a police perspective—the jury was out on whether it had been effective—Sadie went to bed early, depressed but so grateful to have purpose tomorrow in the form of helping Lois at the Fiesta.
Saturday morning dawned bright, beautiful, and lonely. The man at the front desk recommended the breakfast burritos at a small café, and Sadie thought breakfast in the park sounded wonderful. She was determined to enjoy every moment of the morning, and she loved the parks in New Mexico, little oases in the desert.
The café was set several feet lower than the road that ran in front of it, and required that the patrons drive past it, down a side road, and then into the entrance which looped around the building before ending at the parking area. Though the access was anything but convenient, she could only assume the food must be worth it, due to how many people were there at eight thirty in the morning.
Moments before entering the diner, she saw a man standing on the corner, set above her thanks to the strange placement of the café. He was looking her way—or at least he seemed to be looking in her direction. It was hard to tell because he wore sunglasses. She tried not to let it bother her as she entered the café and scanned the menu set high above the counter. She ordered a breakfast burrito that she hoped would be as good as Caro’s and a side order of sopapillas. She was quite possibly addicted to the deep-fried bread and usually slathered hers with honey butter. She really should be as big as a house, she’d enjoyed so many of them these last weeks.
After waiting a couple of minutes, she thought about the strange man on the corner so she moved to the west side of the café in order to look out the windows. He was still there, though now he was talking on his cell phone in between glances he shot toward the café. She couldn’t avoid the trepidation that took hold of her. Was he waiting for her to come out? Had someone sent him to spy on her? She tried to talk herself out of it—she’d accepted a long time ago that she was definitely paranoid. But that paranoia had saved her life more than once.
Once her order was ready, she left the café and pretended not to see the man still standing on the corner. She pulled out of the lot and took the driveway around and up to the main road, stopping at a stop sign a few yards from him. He didn’t look at her. Maybe he was watching for someone else?
She must have idled too long, though, because he finally turned to look at her. She quickly looked both ways and pulled onto the street, glancing at him in her rearview mirror until the road curved and he was no longer in view. She stopped at a red light and noticed there were two women standing at the corner, staring at her just like the other man had been. Her heart started beating a little faster.
There is no conspiracy. You’re being silly. But she watched the women in her rearview mirror as well until the light changed. Could there be a conspiracy? Multiple people planted along her path in order to keep tabs on her. What if there was?
She shifted her gaze away from the rearview mirror as the road came to a rise, giving her a clear view of the big sky ahead of her, filled with color like she’d never seen before. She automatically pressed down on the brake, earning her a honk from the car behind her. She sped up, only to have to stop after a hundred yards as a light turned red. It gave her some much needed time to take in the view.
The dots of color were hot air balloons, hundreds of them. They filled the expansive sky that stretched above the Rio Grande Valley. Some of the balloons were high, some looked only a few dozen yards off the ground, but they all looked held, as though the valley were a huge basket, cradling so many brightly colored Easter eggs. Sadie had never seen anything like it.
“Amazing,” she whispered.
The car honked at her again, making her realize that the light had turned green. She pulled forward, and she noticed more people standing on the curb watching the balloons. And here she had thought they were watching her. Could she be any more ridiculous?
Her cheeks burned hot with embarrassment, but her self-recriminating thoughts were overshadowed by the incredible view of the balloon-filled sky and soon she’d forgotten all about her conspiracy theories. Her hotel was on the east side near the airport and the foothills of the Sandia Mountains; it was slightly elevated from the valley floor, giving her an excellent view. She passed her hotel and reevaluated her breakfast plans. She still wanted a park, but she wanted one that would allow her to bask in this sight. It took about ten minutes to find one, and she found herself a shade tree that didn’t block her view, then enjoyed her breakfast while watching the balloons drift across the sky like colored clouds. They seemed to have nowhere they needed to be, separated from the hustle and bustle below them, content to trust the breeze to set their path. How Sadie envied them.
By eleven, the balloons had drifted away for the most part. They left behind a blue-linen sky and a feeling of peace Sadie had so desperately needed. Somehow, it made her think that maybe everything was happening exactly as it should after all.
Sopapillas
2 cups flour
½ teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon sugar
1½ teaspoons vegetable oil
Warm water (¼ to ¾ cup, depending on your climate: more humid=less water)
Oil
Honey
In a large mixing bowl, combine flour, baking powder, salt, and sugar. Add oil. Add water a little at a time, mixing as you go in order to form a smooth dough.
On a lightly floured surface, knead into a soft, slightly stick
y dough. Let rest, covered, 20 to 30 minutes.
Meanwhile, in a deep pot or skillet, heat oil over medium to medium-high heat until it reaches 400 degrees. Divide dough into 12 equal portions and roll into balls. On a floured surface, roll each ball into a thin circle, about ⅛-inch thick. (The thickness is the key to success here. If the dough is too thick, the sopapillas will not puff up when fried.) Cut each circle into quarters.
Drop dough, one piece at a time, into the hot oil. The dough will sink slightly. When the dough resurfaces, push it back under the oil. This will make it puff up. After about 20 seconds, flip the dough over and cook the other side. After another 30 seconds, remove the sopapilla with a slotted spoon and allow to drain on a cooling rack set over a sheet pan. Keep the cooked sopapillas warm in the oven on the lowest setting while you cook remaining dough. To eat, tradition requires you to bite off one corner and pour honey inside.
Note: Sopapillas are also delicious when sprinkled with powdered sugar. And for a savory sopapilla, stuff the cooked sopapilla with pinto beans, lettuce, tomato, and onions.
Chapter 25
Fiesta Park was set in a low spot off of I-25, requiring cars and shuttles to drive down an incline to reach the parking area. Sadie parked in the general parking lot, then entered the park itself, looking from one end to the other as she took it all in. The park basically looked like a huge football field without goalposts, lines painted on the grass, or football players. A few stands of bleachers were set here and there along the perimeter, but they couldn’t seat more than a thousand people, and from what Sadie had read about the event, far more would be expected, especially on opening day. Right now, the sheer expansiveness of the venue didn’t make it seem very crowded, but she understood that morning and evening were the two most popular times.
A row of vendor booths ran the length of the east side, separated from the large grassy area by an asphalt road; large white tents stood at the north and south ends of the park. The booths offered every kind of hot-air-balloon-related souvenir imaginable, as well as handmade jewelry, clothing, and pottery. Food booths, like Lois’s, offered everything from Mexican dishes Sadie couldn’t pronounce to typical fair food like chocolate-covered bacon, funnel cakes, and deep-fried Twinkies.
Sadie had arrived two hours earlier than Lois had said she’d need her help, but when she stopped to say hello, Lois asked if she could start right away. Lois’s assistant—a Navajo woman by the name of Inez—needed to go back to Santa Fe to pick up another load of cupcakes; the chest refrigerator in the trailer could only hold so much, and the crowds had been good enough that they’d already sold through half the day’s inventory.
Sadie had bought a five-session ticket to the Fiesta online weeks ago and had no qualms about putting off her tour of the grounds a little longer. She stashed her purse in the trailer, and Lois gave her a big hug before quickly explaining where everything was.
In addition to eight varieties of cupcakes—including her signature tres leches cupcakes—Lois was also serving bagels, an assortment of cookies, and Mexican hot chocolate. Half of the food booths were also serving hot chocolate, and Sadie considered tasting all of them to see which one she preferred. It still seemed strange that a hot drink was so popular in a desert, but she had no complaints.
Between the peaceful morning she’d enjoyed, the chance to keep her hands busy, and being back among friends, Sadie’s heart felt twenty pounds lighter. She kept a close eye on the field where she’d been told all the balloons had taken off from this morning, but was disappointed that there were only half a dozen balloons in sight now. Some people were going up and down on short balloon rides that seemed to last about half an hour. At two o’clock, Sadie took a bathroom break. When she returned to the booth, she was brought up short when Caro looked up at her from across the counter. The pause was an awkward one.
“Hi, Sadie.” The tone was even and centered, but their parting words hung heavy between them.
“Hi,” Sadie said. “How are you?”
The look on Caro’s face conveyed the doubt she felt about Sadie’s concern. “Fine,” she said, then nodded toward the shelf below the counter. “The police called to tell me your phone had been cleared. I picked it up on the way here, but I think it’s dead.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Sadie said, hurrying around the counter and picking up her phone. “I mean, it’s not wonderful it’s dead, but it’s wonderful to have it back. Thank you, Caro.”
Caro didn’t acknowledge Sadie’s gratitude and turned to help a customer who’d approached the booth.
Sadie waited for a second, feeling awkward, then headed to the trailer Lois had parked behind the booth where Sadie had left her purse. She always carried a travel phone charger for situations just like this, not that she’d actually faced this situation before, and quickly plugged in her phone to charge up the battery. It wasn’t any less awkward when she returned out front; Caro was helping a family make their selections from the glass-covered platters set on the counter.
Caro didn’t go out of her way to talk to Sadie, and before long, Sadie retreated to the trailer, organizing things to make it as efficient as possible and helping Lois prepare a few batches of hot chocolate so she would have enough on hand when the crowds increased.
“Is everything okay between you and Caro?” Lois asked after they’d mixed up two batches of the cold ingredients they could store in the coolers until they were needed.
“Um, not really,” Sadie said, not wanting to be dishonest but smiling in hopes it would soften the truth. “But I’m sure we’ll work it out.”
Lois certainly wanted to know more, but she seemed to understand that Sadie didn’t want to say much more. She frowned and put a hand on Sadie’s arm. “If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know. Caro is one of my dearest friends, and though I haven’t known you long, I’ve seen how much she’s enjoyed your company. It would be a shame for that to come to an end.”
Sadie thanked her and returned to the front where she helped a young family waiting at the counter. She handed over half a dozen cupcakes, then startled a little bit at the familiar face that was next in line.
“Uh, good afternoon,” Sadie said, trying to hide her surprise.
Ethan Standage smiled politely but looked uncomfortable. “Are you Sarah?”
He knew who she was? “Uh . . . yes, my name is Sarah. Can I help you?”
“Yeah, uh, my name is Ethan Standage. I understand we have a mutual friend.”
Shel. She’d walked away from this and left it behind her, right?
“I, uh . . .” He kicked at the ground and put his hands in his pockets, showing a similar nervousness he’d had when addressing the audience at his exhibit a few nights ago. He’d acted as if he didn’t want to be at the exhibit that night, and he didn’t seem to want to be here right now either, so why was he? A few moments later he looked up, but his eyes went to the menu board above her head. “I promised my chase crew some tres leches cupcakes.”
Sadie knew that wasn’t what he’d come here to say, but she didn’t feel up to confronting whatever had really brought him here in the first place so she played along.
“They are quite remarkable, aren’t they?” Sadie said. “How many would you like?”
“Let’s go with a dozen.”
“Certainly. Anything else?” Sadie retrieved a box from below the counter and removed the cover from the platter. Why was he here?
“No, just the cupcakes.”
She carefully put the cakes into the precut holder set inside the box. “I heard you have a balloon here at the festival,” Sadie said, telling herself she was just being polite.
“Yes,” he said, pushing his glasses farther up his nose in such a way that would have been endearing if Sadie were open to attaching such kindness to his actions. However, the image of him as a criminal hiding behind his wealth and philanthropy was getting fuzzy in her mind. There was a tenderness about him, a vulnerability that didn’t put him in the
same category as Langley or Benny, or even Shel. “My family’s ranch has entered a balloon for the last three years. It’s been a great experience being involved in the events.”
“That’s wonderful,” Sadie said, ringing up his order. “That will be $36.” When Sadie had first heard that Lois sold her tres leches cupcakes for three dollars each, she’d been shocked, but after being a part of making them, glazing them, filling them, and frosting them, the price felt like a bargain. The other cupcakes were two dollars each, which felt more reasonable.
Ethan didn’t bat an eye at the price and reached into his back pocket for his wallet. Sadie supposed that when you made a million dollars a year, you didn’t complain much about the price of cupcakes.
“Have you ever been on a balloon ride?” he asked when she handed him his change. There was an eagerness in his face that, coupled with his opening comment about a mutual friend, had her carefully evaluating the question.
“I haven’t,” Sadie said.
“Would you like to?”
Sadie could feel Caro glancing at the two of them while ringing up a customer on her side of the booth. Ethan wanted to take her up in his hot air balloon? Should she be totally freaked out about the offer?
“It’s one of the most amazing experiences you’ll ever have,” Ethan said, some of his confidence returning. “And it won’t take long at all. It, uh, it would give us a chance to . . . talk in private.”
Sadie looked past him to the balloons out on the field. “Which one is yours?”
“My crew’s getting ready to inflate it right now. It will be up in fifteen minutes, but you can’t miss it. It’s bright yellow, with three eagle feathers wrapping around the circumference. Will you come?”
Tres Leches Cupcakes Page 19
