~ Jessica Rath

​Did you notice the acute accent over the second “u”? Some websites and printed articles use this spelling, while others do not. Maybe it’s because I was born and grew up in Germany, but for as long as I can remember, I was a stickler for correct spelling and pronunciation. Therefore, I found it puzzling that there were two ways to spell the name but only one (as far as I could hear) to pronounce: I had always heard it with the stress on the first A, or ['æ-bɪ-kjuʷ]. The Spanish language uses accent marks to indicate which vowel or syllable should be stressed, and Abiquiú should be pronounced with the stress on the second U, or [a-βi-'kju] (with thanks  to Len Beké, doctoral candidate at UNM who specializes in New Mexico place names, for the correct phonetic spelling). ​

​So – I concluded that Abiquiú must be wrong, I had only ever heard Abiquiu, even from Spanish-speaking people. But where did this come from? Why would there be an accent mark on the last “U”, when the stress was on the “A”? I realized I had to look deeper, and soon found out that the current village was the site of a much older Tewa settlement. In fact, Native peoples had populated the area of the lower Chama River for more than 10,000 years! 
 
Ancestral Tewa Pueblo people had lived along the Rio Chama from around 1300 AD to the early 1600s. Poshuowingeh, 2.5 miles south of Abiquiu, was occupied from around 1375 to 1475. The Tsama Pueblo, an address-restricted area near Abiquiu, was occupied from around 1250 until around 1500, and Sapawe (or Sepawe) Pueblo, near El Rito, another ancestral Tewa site, was occupied from around 1350 until around 1550.

It’s fascinating, if difficult, to imagine life in these villages or cities before the arrival of the Spanish conquistadors in the southwest. Chaco Canyon, for example, was an urban center of impressive proportions, with “suburbs” reaching as far away as 155 miles. Some 30,000 to 40,000 people are supposed to have inhabited the whole region, with a few thousand residing in the great houses in the center. These were impressive multi-storied structures, up to four stories high, some with balconies, and some with 600 and 800 rooms. ​

​Other pueblos closer to Abiquiu were smaller, with Poshuowingeh (“Village Above the Muddy River''), for example, consisting of about 700 ground floor rooms, each being two or three stories high. Two plazas and a large kiwa completed the town. They  were growing their  traditional crops in fields on the east side of their pueblo.

​Closer to the Pedernal is another Tewa village, Tsi-p’in-owinge', or "Village at Flaking Stone Mountain".  The pueblo was built around 1275 A.D. At its peak, more than one thousand people lived there. The pueblo was abandoned by 1450, long before the Spanish arrived in the mid-1500s. The multi-story pueblo was constructed of stone blocks quarried from the volcanic tuff (a welded ash material). Piñon nuts, juniper berries, ferns, willow reeds, and the fruits of the cholla and prickly pear cactus were some of the useful plants collected from the streams and woodlands. The people hunted in the mountains and along the Chama River to the north. They grew corn, beans, and squash in gardens located on the mesa and along the streams below.

​When I researched  the question of the pronunciation of Abiquiu, I came across an article on the website for  New Mexico's History and State Records Center which claimed that the word “Abiquiu” had its origins in Tewa language. But what does it mean and how would it be pronounced? I sent an email to the current State Historian, Rob Martinez, and Deputy State Historian Nicolasa Chávez , and explained my predicament concerning the pronunciation. Mr. Martinez’s terse answer made complete sense and I felt like an idiot for not having thought of it: “When I say it in English, I accent the A. When I say it in Spanish, I accent the U.” Yes, sure, but…  Ms Chávez  was more explicit: “I  think the pronunciation with the emphasis on the first A is most likely the anglicized version of the spelling and pronunciation with the accent mark over the U. That said, the accent mark was probably a Spanish addition and the spelling a Spanish version of a Tewa word.”  Now I can see better what happened: the Tewa word stressed the last U. When the Spanish wrote the word, they added the acute accent to the U to indicate where the emphasis should be. And when the Anglos read the word they ignored the accent and stressed the A. Now I just had to learn something about the original Tewa word!

Luckily, I found Dr. Melissa Axelrod, Linguistics Professor Emerita at UNM, who specializes in Native American languages. She forwarded my email to UNM doctoral candidate Len Beké, who wrote back: “Pronunciation in Spanish is [a-βi-'kju] with final stress;  English pronunciation is ['æ-bɪ-kjuʷ] with initial stress. No idea about Tewa. Initialization of stress in borrowed place names seems common for English generally, e.g. Amsterdam has final stress in Dutch but initial stress in English”. Well, I didn’t know this about Amsterdam, but I really wanted to find out about the Tewa word, so I asked Dr. Axelrod for help once again. She contacted Andrés Sabogal, a linguist who works on Tewa, and he sent me the last puzzle piece: “In Tewa it has final stress and like Len said the initial accent is the English pronunciation.  In Tewa this is a compound word meaning chokecherry path, Ávé-shú' and the stress always falls on the second member of the compound, its head, in this case shú'.”

When I researched  the question of the pronunciation of Abiquiu, I came across an article on the website for  New Mexico's History and State Records Center which claimed that the word  
Chokecherry Path! What a lovely name. I bet the current citizens of Abiquiu still collect them to make jam and other preserves, just as they still harvest watercress, purslane, chimajá (spring parsley), piñon nuts, and many other wild berries, nuts, and herbs. I was thrilled to find wild raspberries one early summer in the Santa Fe National Forest – nothing tastes better than foraged edibles!

Back to my original question. I’ve decided that Abiquiú is indeed the correct spelling AND pronunciation, based on the original Tewa word Ávé-shú'. Writing in English while leaving the accent mark out means you misspell the word. It’s a bit of a bother with an English keyboard, but it’s worth the effort – what do you think?

Today we went to Espanola to run a few errands and grab lunch. First stop was JC’s Auto and Tire Shop at 711 N Paseo De Onate, Espanola. We called the day before to see if they could fix a flat tractor tire and arrived at 10am, but no one was there. After knocking and peeking through the glass door, we were quickly answered by a series of beeps coming from above our heads. We looked up and heard a friendly voice say through the VivintⓇ security camera “We’ll be there in 15 minutes.” So, we did some nearby errands and came back to a bustling, open shop. We were met by JC himself, a super friendly, handsome man that both my wife and I left with a small crush on. He was not able to repair our tire because it needed an unusual inner tube. Too bad because it would have only cost $25.00. But we did make an appointment to get our car detailed next week (He quoted $65). See future review for the outcome.

We then found ourselves at a welcome addition to Espanola called El Pilar Restaurante at 107 S. Riverside Drive. You may recognize the name as it has been a local favorite food truck for the last 7 years parked near Wells Fargo. We’ve never tried the food and were hungrily eager to do so. We walked in from the chilly day to a nice warm dining room and a very pleasant aroma of good eats wafting from the kitchen. Mia, the only server on duty, told us to seat ourselves and was very kind and attentive throughout the meal.

We ordered the Tostada con Pollo as an appetizer. A heavenly concoction of creamy chipotle sauce drizzled over a hefty pile of roasted chicken, lettuce, tomato and refried beans, on a perfectly crispy, yet delicate tortilla. It came with a side of habanero salsa (house-made) with a nice tongue tingling bite to it. Two of these priced at $5 each would make a satiating, affordable lunch in itself.
​
We also ordered the BBQ Rib plate and the Chile Relleno plate with Christmas. The BBQ Ribs came with crunchy fries and coleslaw. The ribs didn't quite fall off the bone, but were well cooked to a chewy, soft texture and slathered in a homemade tangy yet sweet bbq sauce. The fries, ordered crispy, were indeed crunchy and paired wonderfully with the spice of the ribs. The only downside to this plate was the coleslaw as it was too sweet and overdressed. Still, the ribs and fries were well worth it!

The Chile Relleno plate was served with one large chile and sides of beans, rice, posole and a lettuce/tomato garnish. The clear winner here was the Pozole, some of the best I’ve ever had. The pork pieces were cooked to a delicious texture and flavor. The hominy was plump and fresh and the balanced broth was richly pork-y, but not fatty. The Chile Relleno was ok, but I would add a punchier cheese to it like Cotija. Also a little salt in the batter with a longer time in the frying pan would jump it up. The green Chile was nice, the red a bit bland. I like me a smoky red, personally. The Spanish Rice was excellent, perfectly al dente with a light tomato-y taste, as it should. The Pinto beans needed a little salt if I were to be extra picky.

All of this left us full, warm and satisfied with still half of the food to take home. The prices were reasonable too, the entire lunch was just under $50 including two sodas, tax and tip.

I highly recommend this place and am looking forward to the next visit.

PRO TIPS: Keep clean plastic containers in the car for leftovers and if you order the Rib Plate, ask for extra napkins or Bring Your Own Bib.

Be sure to always buy organic tofu. Commercially grown soy crops are treated with enormous amounts of pesticides and are genetically modified. Over 80 percent of this is fed to livestock, mostly chickens and pigs, but also cows and farmed fish. With organic tofu you’ll be safe.

Ingredients:
    • 1 LB extra-firm tofu
    • ¼ c soy sauce
    • ½ ts smoked paprika
    • ¼ ts cayenne pepper
    • 2 flax eggs *
    • ½ medium-sized onion, finely chopped
    • 2 TS capers (optional, leave out if you don’t like them)
    • ½ c peeled, cubed butternut squash 
    • ½ c breadcrumbs
    • 2 TS olive oil (plus 2 T if pan-fried)
* 1 Flax egg:
1 TS ground flax seeds mixed with
3-4 TS water
Let rest 10 - 15 min

Preparation:
Prepare the 2 flax eggs.
Crumble the tofu into grain-like pieces (I cut the block into large chunks and then use my fingers to crumble it, or you can mash it with a fork). In a medium-sized bowl, combine the tofu with soy sauce and any spices you want to use, let soak for 15 minutes. 

Heat 2 T olive oil in a frying pan over medium high heat, saute the onions until translucent and slightly browned, lower the heat  a bit, add the squash and simmer for 10 minutes or until squash is softened. Turn off the heat and let it cool down, then add it to the crumbled tofu, together with the flax eggs and breadcrumbs. Mix well.

Use your hands to form patties with a diameter of about 2 ½ - 3 inches and about ¼ inch deep. 

I tried three different ways to finish the patties:
    1. Baked:
Preheat your oven to 400 F. Place the patties on a non-stick baking sheet and bake for 20 minutes. The outside became evenly brown and crisp, while being soft inside.

​2. Air Fried:
I placed the patties in my air fryer and let it run for 10 minutes at 400 F. They turned out to be somewhat more crunchy.

3. Pan-fried: 
I added 2 TS olive oil to a frying pan. When the oil was hot, I placed the patties into the pan and fried them for about 5 minutes on each side. The coloring wasn’t as even as with the other two methods.
​

​Choose your preferred method, and enjoy.

~Zach Hively
Fool's Gold

Look, I realize that vacation rentals—let’s just call them “Airbnbs” because that’s what they all are—are responsible for a great many of the world’s woes. These include housing shortages and jacked-up costs of living, gentrification, several Kardashians, the lion’s share of the endangered species list, and methamphetamines, probably.

But they are still my preferred way to stay in a stranger’s home on vacation, when I actually go on vacation. In adulthood so far, this averages once each decade. Plus, they have kitchens. This is preferable to hotels, where I cannot even pretend that I will cook my own breakfast.

Not using the included kitchen that I COULD use is just one Airbnb perk among many. I’d like, for your vicarious vacationing pleasure, to declare several other benefits—unlike the apples and the baggie of ham that we did not declare at customs on our way home. We brought them along for the flight after not eating them for breakfast for a week. Then I did not take them out of my backpack before customs because I was hungry, and also because I forgot.

Speaking of hunger, let’s make you hungry for travel with these Many Benefits of Staying in an Airbnb.

Ease of Access

After a long day of international plane travel, all one wants is to lay one’s head on another person’s used pillow and fall asleep so fast that one cannot wonder for long about how foreign head lice differ from domestic ones. Such was our wish.

We were in good spirits after traveling by car, plane, moving walkway, plane, bus, customs line, and bus to the one coastal town in Mexico that spring break hasn’t heard about. I was able to use our Airbnb hosts’ directions—and the knowledge that “a la izquierda” means either “to the right” or “to the left”—to guide our taxi right to the front gate. The taxi drove off, and I pulled up the Airbnb host’s instructions for easily and safely accessing our new home away from home.
“The purple gate will appear to be locked,” the instructions read. “It is unlocked.”

“It’s locked,” said my travel partner—let’s call her “Maggie” because that is her name.

I, being a man, tried the lock myself. It was locked. I managed to message our Airbnb hosts. I’m not sure what I wanted them to do, seeing as they were at that moment in California or some other place that was not Mexico, but I hoped it would be something useful. They, however, did not reply in a timely fashion.

So I did what any former middle school math student would do: I skipped to the next word problem—the keys to the house, reportedly left, securely, under a cloth on a table by the front door. Unfortunately, the front door and this purported table were inside the gate, which had not yet unlocked.

The irony of a gringo jumping a wall to get into someplace in Mexico gave me the boost I needed to do so very quickly and discreetly. Maggie guarded the luggage because she is scarier than I am, while I fetched the key. This was challenging, considering there was no key.
“There is no key,” I muttered through the gate.

“No key?” Maggie said back.

“No key,” I said. “Unless you can find it,” which, her being a woman, seemed likely. My whole life, women are finding things that don’t exist until I ask them to look.

Maggie passed our backpacks over the gate and then jumped it herself to prove me wrong about the keys. But the keys did not materialize. I wrote our hosts again, as timestamped proof that we were not breaking and entering in case the authorities ever got involved.

We made ourselves right at home on the rocking chairs on the patio and watched the sun set on the locked doors and welded-shut windows of this beautiful one-bedroom casa with well-tended garden and fully equipped kitchen. We laughed a little, we cried a little, and we got hungrier and hungrier, until I decided to jump the fence again and fetch us some food and possible camping supplies from the mercado on the corner.

While I was away, the hosts responded that this situation was very unusual and they would try to get ahold of Juan the property manager. In the meantime, they suggested we dig for the possibility of a spare key buried in the corner of a flower bed opposite a radiant pink bougainvillea. We did not find the key, but we had corn chips, real Mexican corn chips, made with actual tortillas and not whatever comprises a Tostitos. And we had a bottle of tequila from the highest shelf in this little mercado, which I ordered using my best Spanish pronunciation of the label over and over until the clerk understood my accent from sheer repetition.

We were prepared to hunker down for the night, mosquitos be damned, when Juan arrived with a hefty set of keys and a heftier set of apologies. “I thought today was yesterday!” he said many times.

Now we move on to the next of many Airbnb benefits:

You get to leave public reviews.

​Beautiful outdoor space. Through the window, the kitchen appears useful. Clear directions and very communicative hosts! I already can’t wait to go back.