Were there dogs at dreamranch before Cooper?
They loved the water here — in Orno and Las Huertas creeks — but I’m showing them here in the East Fork of the Jemez, where we might go for a treat on the hottest days.
As for chile, I recently wrote that I usually crave red when driving up Fourth Street in Albuquerque. I’m not sure what the association is, although it’s probably the remembrance of meals in restaurants along the way. I want to add, however, that my taste buds turn quickly to green if it’s roasting season and I catch the smell wafting down old Route 66.
And on the cooking gear score, where in a narcissistic state I have repeatedly published photographs of my kitchen stove top, I have to admit I am a little embarrassed about the barely concealed electric burners.
For one thing, a favorite Tweeter with a flair for cooking recently warned her followers away from bachelors with electric stoves instead of gas.
Well, in my defense, my stove came with the house, which was purchased as a spec with only the slab down — the then-unobstructed views sealing the deal — and my former newspaperman salary allowing for neither a Range Rover nor a Vulcan. I will further point out that I think I have come close to mastering the preparation of just about anything on the laggardly electric range.