Friday Food Truck Pod and Pod Schedule

It seems like not a day passes lately without interesting news from our Albuquerque food trucks. The proprietors are trying out all kinds of new things, making their presence known at festivals (The Seasonal Palate will be at this weekend's Celtic Festival) and workplaces (Intel), hospitals (Lovelace Women's, UNM Cancer Center), coffee shops (Michael Thomas) and parks (Boiler Monkey has joined Supper Truck for Hyder Park Tuesdays, featuring music by Sage Harrington). And of course at brewpubs.

They're trying out their own events, too, like the recurring Food Truck Rumbles. I'm excited for this summer's Films and Food Trucks events. The first one, at Bataan Park on May 19, will feature Supper Truck, Boiler Monkey, and Rebel Donuts, and the movie will be The Goonies!

Last week, Arne and I decided to try the new Friday lunch pod at Talin Market. There were too many trucks at the Wednesday pod, so a few trucks spun off to Friday. Four trucks were there last Friday: Doggerz, The Lunch Box Deli, Gedunk, and The Toasted Bean.

We started with the bright red, eye-catching Doggerz. Our order of a Mexidog came out quickly. I'd have called it a Nachodog, myself: a hot dog and bun smothered with refried beans, nacho cheese, crushed tortilla chips, and slices of pickled jalapeno. It definitely required a fork. The dog itself was terrific: a huge, meaty Nathan's dog, grilled for fabulous flavor. The toppings were fun, but heavy. The proprietor talked about other ideas he has, like bacon-wrapped dogs and dogs topped with salad. I'm interested to see what he'll come up with.

Next we tried Lunch Box Deli. The meatballs jumped out at us from their short (three-item) menu. We laughed when the woman who took our order turned to the cook and requested a "bowl o' balls"! In moments we were handed a small aluminum-wrapped bundle. Within were two small, garlicky pieces of bread and a small but fully packed bowl of meatballs.

The meatballs were delicious. Beefy and tender, they had the misshapen charm of the truly handmade. The marinara that swaddled them was tomato-ey and bright, without the heavy sweetness of too many restaurant tomato sauces. They would have made a stellar sub. I could have eaten more of those.

Instead, we ate more of other things. We decided on a crepe and a couple of lattes from The Toasted Bean for dessert; while Arne was ordering those, I got into a discussion with the very personable owner of Gedunk Food Truck - though today, he was working from his small, flame-bedecked cart instead of the full-sized truck. The cart is a clever setup. Clearly economical to run, with a small grill and cooler instead of the roaring generator-fueled refrigerators and cooktops of the trucks, it worked beautifully for turning out soft tacos filled with chicken, beef, or pork. Gedunk is, I believe, the only truck that attends both Wednesdays and Fridays at Talin. With this simple cart and a dessert-only menu on Wednesdays to contrast with the other carts' offerings, it seems very cleverly set up. And the food is reliably delicious.

Soon our lattes came out, hot and tasty. The coffee in mine was rich but not at all bitter, well diluted (like I like it) with plenty of milk and almond syrup. I tasted Arne's too - even unsweetened, it was yummy.

Our Funky Monkey crepe followed shortly, and was one of the best crepes I've had in a long time. The crepe itself was light yet with good chew, filled with a decadent mixture of banana slices and Nutella, and topped with whipped cream and chocolate sauce. We realized at this point that we'd gotten too much food. This did not stop us.

Things are constantly changing in Albuquerque's food truck scene. That's part of the fun! (At least, until you show up somewhere and the truck you were looking for isn't there. Which does happen.) I'm following all the info feeds I can, and keeping track as best I can. That said, here is the food pod schedule as I understand it, as of May 15, 2013 (all times are from 11-1 unless otherwise stated).

Food Truck Pod Schedule

Monday:
South side of Lomas between I-25 and University. Trucks: Gedunk (taco cart), Lunch Box Deli, Toasted Bean (often there early for the breakfast crowd)

Tuesday:
Alameda and Balloon Museum Drive. Toasted Bean, possibly Gedunk.

Wednesday:
Talin pod: Talin Market. Trucks: Soo Bak Foods, Gedunk (dessert only), Supper Truck, Rustic Food Truck, the Filipino truck, Scottish Pie Shoppe, The Melting Truck, a barbecue truck or two, and more.

Sandia pod: Eubank and Development SE (south of Costco). Trucks: Squeezed Juice Bar, Lunch Box Deli, Doggerz.

Thursday:
Coors and Coors Bypass? No details on participating trucks.

Friday:
Talin Market. Trucks: Gedunk (taco cart), Doggerz, Lunch Box Deli, Toasted Bean.

This only covers regularly scheduled, non-brewpub food truck gatherings. Check out each truck's individual Facebook page, Twitter feed, etc for more details. You can find trucks all over town - especially at brewpubs that serve little or no food of their own, such as Marble, Tractor, and La Cumbre.

Eat well and have fun!

Spring Bounty: Sugar Snap Pea Salad with Radishes and Braised Turnips with Sugar Snaps

Ah, spring in Albuquerque. Daffodils, irises, wild temperature shifts, sand blowing in your eyes... it's not all perfect, for sure, but the lengthening days and the tiny seedlings poking their heads up from the garden soil make my heart light.

Very little local produce is available yet, but we do have some beautiful local radishes and turnips. Asparagus is making its way here from climes further south. I've discussed my love for that vegetable here recently, but I don't think I've mentioned another beloved spring treat: sugar snap peas.

Incredibly sweet and crisp, sugar snap peas are so easy to eat straight from the bag that it's hard to save them for dinner instead of just snacking on them like potato chips. But it's worth it. Raw or lightly cooked, the freshness of sugar snaps elevates a simple meal to something special. Since they're so lovely all by themselves, the cardinal rule of cooking with them is not to get in their way. In other words, the best preparations are the quickest and simplest.

Sugar snap peas don't require trimming, though they're slightly more elegant if you take the time. They have a string along each side that is usually unobtrusive, but can be unpleasant to eat in more mature peas. If yours have tough strings, you can remove them by snapping off the end of each pod and pulling the strings away; or you can cut the pods in half, which makes the strings shorter and less obtrusive. Stringy sugar snap peas may be slightly fibrous and tough, and can benefit from brief cooking (as in the second recipe below) to make them a little more tender.

Sugar snap peas have a real affinity with the slightly spicy sweetness of the season's radishes and tender white turnips, so it makes sense to put them together. Here are two simple ways to do that.

Sugar Snap Pea Salad with Radishes

Halve 1/2 pound sugar snap peas and place in a medium bowl. Add to the bowl 3 medium radishes, preferably with pretty red or pink skins, halved lengthwise and then thinly sliced into half-moons. Add a quarter-cup of sunflower or radish sprouts, if you have some. Squeeze on about a teaspoon of lemon juice, drizzle with 2 teaspoons of olive oil (use your best - lemon-scented olive oil is lovely here), and sprinkle with salt. Toss gently. Taste and adjust the seasoning until it tastes just right.

Braised Turnips with Sugar Snap Peas

Scrub one bunch small white turnips. Trim off tops and tails. Halve turnips lengthwise, then cut crosswise into 1/4-inch half-moons. In a medium saucepan, bring 3/4 cup chicken or vegetable broth to a boil. Add turnips; cover and cook 3 to 5 minutes, or until they're fork-tender. Add 1/2 pound sugar snap peas, trimmed if necessary. Cover and cook until the peas are very bright green, about a minute. Add a little salt, if needed, and grind on some fresh black pepper. Serve in small bowls with the tasty broth.

Exciting Changes in the ABQ Food Truck Scene

It's a really exciting time for food-truck fans in the Duke City.

New trucks join the fleet on what seems a weekly basis. One I've been desperate to try is The Scottish Pie Shop. Exactly what it sounds like, this pie shop on wheels sells a variety of meat pies, plus a few related items: the simply named steak pie, a smaller crescent-shaped steak pie called a "bridie," shepherd's pie, sausage rolls, bangers and mash, and bags of shortbread cookies. The truck opened just a few weeks ago, and has a regular slot at Talin Market on Wednesdays.

Last Wednesday I had a lunch appointment - besides, it was a vegetarian week - so I couldn't have lunch at the food-truck pod. I stopped by anyway, just to see how things were going, and was delighted to see a complement of 10 trucks. This was actually more than the curb at Talin can accommodate, so poor Soo Bak was forced to start a second row of trucks behind one of the BBQ smokers. They seemed to do a fine business anyway.

As I hung around the Scottish Pie Truck, sniffing the air and wishing my tummy weren't full, I struck up a conversation with a guy from the family that owns and operates the business. He offered me a sample of a bridie, and - vegetarian week be damned - I took him up on it. The pastry was flaky, the meat richly flavored. I could hardly wait to get back there this week.

Today Arne and I lined up at 11:45 to get another shot at those pies. We ordered a steak pie meal, which came with mashed potatoes and gravy and fried cabbage. It came out almost instantly - I guess none of the items require last-minute prep. The meat was thickly coated in rich gravy, and tender like a long-braised pot roast. The crust was wonderfully flaky. The mashed potatoes were a little bland (I think they needed salt), but that was made up for by the fantastic fried cabbage. 

As awesome as the steak pie was, I may have liked the bridie I sampled better. I'll have to go back next week and find out. (Curses, it's another veggie week. I'll have to wait two weeks.)

There were eight trucks at the pod today, and we were determined to try as many of them as we could. The second obvious choice was the new Filipino food truck. (I don't know if it has a name besides "Filipino Food.") We tried the lumpia: skinny Filipino egg rolls. 

They came out immediately (not fried to order, which was good for speed but less good for texture). They were filled with a ground pork mixture and doused with red sweet-and-sour sauce. Tasty they were, but not ground-breaking. Though I'd like to try the pancit (pan-fried noodles) and chicken adobo sometime, today we moved on to a favorite: Soo Bak "Korean Seoul Food."

We've tried almost everything off Soo Bak's regular menu, and there were no specials today, but that was fine - I've been wanting to try that last item, the spicy pork tacos. They're pretty simple, which is good; the flavors of the lightly charred pork and the sweet and spicy sauce are wonderful, and the simple garnishes of lettuce and a creamy sauce let them take center stage. The corn tortilla was fried to light crispness, a little bit greasy but in a delightful, lick-your-fingers way.

The very first time I tried a Korean taco (in New York, maybe?), I was disappointed - the tortilla just didn't seem to add anything, and I didn't get why this L.A. upstart food was so trendy. Well, between todays's spicy pork and their occasional special of "K-Pop tacos with Gangnam sauce," Soo Bak has changed my mind. 

Our last stop was Gedunk food truck. Gedunk's chef has made a really smart choice for the Wednesday pod; rather than compete with everyone on lunch entrees, he is filling a mostly untouched niche and serving desserts. Everything on the menu looked tempting, but I stayed true to form and chose the lemon crunch cake. (They say there are chocolate people and lemon people. I love chocolate, but give me a choice and I'll take lemon almost every time.) There wasn't a lot of crunch, but I didn't care, because there was a lot of lemon! The lemon flavor was pronounced - clearly a whole slew of lemons were zested for this. The cake was very moist and crowned with housemade whipped cream. I was really full by the time we finished it, but really glad we hadn't decided to skip dessert.

Once we devoured the cake, we chatted with Gedunk's chef. He teased us mercilessly with a description of a Kahlua brownie trifle he will feature next week, and told us about the lunch entrees he will serve at the Monday and Friday food-truck pods.

And here's where you can legitimately complain that I have buried the lede, because we're almost at the end of this post and I'm just now mentioning the most exciting news. (Well, my meat-pie-loving mom might say the Scottish Pie Truck was the most exciting news, and I'm not going to argue about it.)

The Talin pod is so popular, and so stuffed with trucks, that our industrious food-truck businessfolk are working to add a bunch of new pods to the scene. Most simply - and coolest for me, since Arne and I usually meet for lunch on Fridays - Talin will now host a pod on Friday as well as Wednesday. (Both are open for lunch 11-1.)

More experimentally, a pod has started on Mondays between UNM and downtown, on the I-25 frontage road on the south side of Lomas. ABQ Food Trucks on Facebook reports that this convenient new pod - which will feature The Toasted Bean with coffee and crepes starting at 8 a.m., to be joined at 11:00 by several other trucks for lunch service - is already full. There will be several trucks I haven't tried yet - Doggerz, Conchita's Creations, and The Lunch Box Deli. I've also heard a whisper about a "Tijeras pod" near UNM on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but I haven't heard details on that yet.

Albuquerque's food-truck scene is hopping, and I'm so excited!

Sous Vide Shrimp in the Kitchen Sink

Arguably the most coveted object of 2012 for the true cooking geek was Nathan Myhrvold's mini-opus, Modernist Cuisine at Home. For most cookbook authors, a two-volume (one hardcover with gorgeous photos, one spiral-bound recipe book with special spillproof paper), 11-pound, $100 cookbook would be an opus. But not for Microsoft geek and multi-multi-millionaire Myhrvold; Modernist Cuisine at Home is the stripped-down, simplified home version of his 2400-page, 50-pound, $500 cookbook Modernist Cuisine.

How coveted is that six-volume set? Well, when a group of professional chefs was offered one as a prize on Top Chef, there were more exclamations of excitement than when they were offered a thousand dollars. (Which doesn't make mathematical sense, but there you have it.)

Because my sweetheart is amazing, I am one of the lucky home cooks to own a copy of Modernist Cuisine at Home. I've been working my way through it since Christmas. A few weeks ago, I was perusing the section on sous vide cooking - a very trendy technique that cooks food gently in bags in a water bath - when it caught my eye that some seafood could be cooked at temperatures low enough, and quickly enough, to accomplish in a large pot in the kitchen sink.

All that was required was a plastic bag with a seal, a large pot, and a good thermometer. I have all of those. So I set to work. According to the little graph in the book, if you want your shrimp cooked tender - which of course I do - you cook them for 7 minutes in 140-degree water. Easy-peasy.

It turned out to be slightly more difficult than I expected, because my hot water wasn't quite hot enough. Getting my large Dutch oven full of 140-degree water took about ten minutes, and lots of supplementation from my electric kettle. I slipped in a FoodSaver bag - a Ziploc will work, but I saw the handheld FoodSaver pump at Target and couldn't resist - full of room-temperature shrimp and a little butter and salt, and waited seven minutes, occasionally checking the temperature and adjusting it a degree. That level of watchfulness was probably unnecessary, but I was hovering anyway, watching as the liquid in the bag around the shrimp magically turned white. Cooking. In my sink.

After seven minutes, I dropped the bag into ice water to stop the cooking, then pulled out a shrimp. Wow. They were wonderful. Cooked through but ever-so-slightly translucent, perfectly tender, and fantastically sweet and flavorful - like the very best lobster. The tenderness makes sense, as they were cooked so gently, but why the depth of flavor? I'm guessing it's because the juices are held close to the shrimp and reabsorbed instead of being leached out into the cooking water or evaporated off a hot pan. Whatever the reason - and it wasn't that they were of inherently stellar quality, as they were just from Trader Joe's freezer section - they may have been the best shrimp I've ever eaten.

That evening I used the shrimp to top a simple arugula salad with lemon dressing, and their delicate sweetness was fabulous against the peppery snap of the greens and the tartness of the dressing.

Is this the simplest way to cook shrimp? No - a quick boil or pan-fry is more familiar, and thus easier. But I'm sure it's the simplest, most foolproof way to get shrimp of this juicy, sweet, tender perfection.

Sous Vide Shrimp in the Kitchen Sink

1/2 to 1 pound shelled shrimp, at room temperature
1 tablespoon butter, optional
Salt and pepper

Place all ingredients in a zip-top plastic bag or vacuum bag, in as close to one layer as possible. For vacuum bag, follow manufacturer's instructions to seal. If using a zip-top bag, seal halfway, then press out as much air as you can by dipping the bag in a tub of water or sliding it down the edge of your counter. Seal.

Fill a very large pot with 140-degree water. Tap water may suffice; if it's not hot enough, add boiling water from a teakettle, stirring to circulate, until it reaches 140 degrees.

Drop bagged shrimp in hot water. Leave them 7 minutes. Remove bag. If eating the shrimp warm, use immediately; otherwise, drop the bag in ice water to chill quickly, then store in refrigerator.

Springtime Lemon Risotto with Asparagus

It is now officially spring. How do I know? There's asparagus everywhere. Not just off-season, $9 a pound asparagus with dried-up ends, but the beautifully fresh stuff: short, chubby spears at Whole Foods, long skinny spears at Smith's, medium ones at the Co-op, and yummy ones in my CSA box. (If you've heard that skinny ones are best, it's not true. It's a matter of taste. I love them all, but my favorites are fat and juicy.)

Best of all, there's asparagus on my dinner plate, in a procession of dishes that have been our spring tradition for years: asparagus and white wine soup, asparagus and ham canneloni, penne with asparagus sauce... and, best of all, this vibrant yet comforting risotto. 

I've loved this recipe for more than 15 years and make it almost every spring, but I never fail to be amazed anew at how wonderful it is. Maybe even more this year than usual, because lately I have been smitten with rice. 

As a kid, I didn't like rice much. It was that bland stuff that sat next to the food you actually wanted to eat. But lately I've started to develop a real respect and, more importantly, enjoyment of grains in general and rice in particular. I love a well-prepared bowl of brown rice with a stir-fry; creamy casseroles of rice and other grains; fried rice (did you know that brown rice makes fantastic fried rice?); and, especially, dishes like risotto and paella - short-grain rice cooked with other tasty ingredients in a delicious broth.

The difference between risotto and paella - and the reason some people think risotto is too much work - is the stirring. Paella is mixed together, popped in the oven, and left to do its thing. Risotto is stirred, sometimes obsessively. Stirring releases the starch in the rice, which in turn thickens the broth into a sort of gravy that holds the rice in suspension, and turns the dish into comfort food of the highest order (while somehow retaining its elegance).

Obsessiveness is the norm in recipes for risotto, "stir, stir, stir" the mantra. Yes, you need to stir your risotto very regularly, but if you step away for two minutes to zest a lemon or cut your asparagus, I promise the world won't end. It's a hands-on process, but not a laborious one. In fact, you might just find it relaxing!

The ingredients for this recipe are simple - rice, wine, lemon, broth, asparagus - but the end result is swoon-worthy: beautiful grains of toothsome rice held together in a sunshine-yellow, lemony suspension, accented with rounds of green asparagus. It looks and tastes like springtime in a bowl.

By the way, you don't need to splurge on fancy Arborio or Carnaroli rice, though you should certainly feel free to. Any short-grain white rice will do: I most often use California-grown Japanese-style rice, such as Nishiki or Calrose. You can find them at well-stocked grocery stores. Whatever rice you choose, do not rinse it before you start; the starch that clings to it is essential to thickening the risotto.

The preserved lemon garnish is optional, and something I tried for the first time this year. I've read for years about how good preserved lemons, a staple of Moroccan food, are, and happened to find some with the bulk olives at Whole Foods. They have a bright, vibrant lemon flavor that is a lovely finishing touch for the dish, so if you happen upon some, try them here. If not, no big deal.

More ways with rice: Easy Paella with Chorizo and Chicken or Shrimp, Japanese Curry Rice, Baked Wild Mushroom and Brown Rice Risotto, Golden Basmati Rice, Brown and Wild Rice Casserole with Cottage Cheese

Springtime Lemon Risotto with Asparagus
Serves: 4   Time: 40 minutes, all hands-on

3/4 pound asparagus
2 cups (1 can) chicken broth or vegetable broth
2 cups water
1 lemon
3 tablespoons butter or olive oil
1 small onion, chopped
1.5 cups short-grain rice - do not rinse
1/4 teaspoon turmeric, for extra color, optional
1 cup white wine
1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
2 tablespoons minced preserved lemon, optional

Snap the tough ends off the asparagus and discard. Slice the asparagus into 1/4 or 1/2 inch pieces, keeping the pointy tips whole. Place in a bowl with a little water and a dash of salt; microwave for 2 minutes or so, until the pieces are tender but still have some bite. (You can also steam it gently on the stove.) Set aside, removing some pretty tips for garnish when the asparagus has cooled a little.

Combine the broth and water; warm in a saucepan or in a large bowl or measuring cup in the microwave. Zest the lemon (I use a Microplane), then cut in half and juice. Set zest and juice aside.

In a large skillet with high sides, warm the butter or oil over medium heat. Add the onion and saute 5 minutes or so, until translucent. Add the rice and saute another few minutes, until the rice is glossy and has turned slightly transparent. (Some of the kernels may have turned opaque white. That's fine.) Stir in the turmeric, if using.

Here's where we start the famous stirring part. Add the wine and stir until it's all soaked up by the rice or evaporated. Now start adding your diluted broth, about 1/2 cup at a time, by the same procedure: Add broth and stir until it's almost all absorbed, then add more. The rice should never fully dry out - author Patricia Wells, in her Italian cookbook Trattoria, says it should "always be covered by a veil of stock."

Continue doing this until you've used almost all your broth, which will probably take 15 to 20 minutes. Taste a kernel of rice. You want it to be firm to the bite but not at all chalky in the middle, and the overall consistency should be thick and creamy, not dry or soupy. If the rice isn't done, add a cup of water to your broth and continue until it is. When the rice is just right, stir in the lemon zest, half the juice, the Parmesan, and the asparagus. Taste; if you want more salt or lemon, add it now. Serve in warm bowls, garnished with a few asparagus tips and some minced preserved lemon, if using.

Cuts of Beef Infographic

Cuts of Beef infographic by visually.


I enjoyed this little infographic and thought I'd share it with you. I could have used it the other day when Arne asked me where the tri-tip came from. I thought it was a sirloin - and I was right!

The cooking methods icons seem like a particularly helpful touch. I rarely cook beef anymore, but when I do I want to get it right - humanely raised beef costs a pretty penny.

I hope you find it useful too!

Loafing in La Paz, part 2

One of the many quiet delights of the CostaBaja resort in La Paz is strolling around its little marina, which we did every night we were there. There were some gorgeous and expensive boats there - in fact, we saw Steve Jobs's yacht, Venus, anchored offshore. (Expensive Venus definitely is; "gorgeous" is very much up for discussion.) On the far side of the marina was a trio of open-air restaurants: a so-so Italian restaurant, an innovative sushi spot called Odayaka featuring rolls with a Mexican twist (the RRR, with a mango-habanero sauce, is pictured below), and an elegant "international" restaurant called Azul Marino.

We ate at Azul Marino twice, but it was too dark to get a decent picture. My favorite dish was a scallop and shrimp summer roll. The rice noodles inside were bathed in a delicate sauce of peanut and ground pork, and it came with a tangy, spicy "sweet and sour sauce" that deserved a better name. Other highlights were fish grilled in grape leaves and served with a smooth, tahini-heavy baba ghanoush sauce, a perfect spaghetti Bolognese, and a seafood marinara pasta absolutely bursting with fresh fish.

Near the end of our trip we had the pleasure of dining at Steinbeck's, CostaBaja's most upscale restaurant. It was a windy evening, so the big glass doors were shut, but the room was lovely nonetheless. The wall we sat next to was taken up by a glass-fronted case full of tequila bottles, which doesn't sound that great when I type it, but fancy tequila comes in some impressively beautiful bottles.

The food was delicious and well prepared, if somewhat less innovative than I had hoped. We both chose the tasting menu. Our first course was the most interesting - a refreshing salad of watermelon, tomato, and grapefruit, topped with a little sharp cheese and basil. I never would have thought of those things together, but it worked. Next was a simple plate of lovely raw bay scallops with serrano chiles and daikon (which the menu called "Chinese potato"). The serranos were really hot - I achieved the perfect level of heat by dabbing my scallops with them instead of actually eating them.

Next came a black bean soup with tiny fragments of lobster. The soup was served with a kind of pageantry I've rarely seen: Two servers placed soup plates in front of us with a flourish. Each plate contained a small pile of lobster, but no soup. In perfect unison, the servers poured the soup from small pitchers over the waiting lobster. The dish was almost worthy of such a presentation - the earthy beans and sweet lobster complemented each other beautifully.

The last savory dish was a ribeye steak, grilled medium-rare, with a red pepper and beer sauce that brought out the smokiness of the meat. Though somewhat fatty, the steak was the best I've had in a very long time, and the sauce complemented it well.

Alas, dessert fell flat. The flan that finished the meal was probably the worst I've had in a long time - grainy and dry. And it was served with ice cream, which just seemed odd. The thoughtless final course was a sad finish for an otherwise beautiful meal.

And now we come to the piece de resistance of our trip, if not one of its culinary highlights - snorkeling with sea lions! Honestly, this is the reason I chose La Paz for our first tropical paradise experience. I love sea mammals, and my very favorites are otters and sea lions. To actually swim with them is a dream come true.

A colony of 350+ sea lions lives year-round on a tiny rock island called Los Islotes, near the much larger Isla Espiritu Santo. The islands are a 90-minute motorboat ride from La Paz. The ride was loud and choppy, but worth it - and much leavened by the extravagant joy of a five-year-old girl who stood in the prow of the boat with her parents and squealed and laughed delightedly whenever she got splashed (which was often).

Upon arrival at Los Islotes, we donned our wetsuits and jumped in. Neither Arne nor I had ever been snorkeling before, unless you count our experiments in the pool and by the beach at CostaBaja. It was easier than we had feared, and any difficulties with equipment were forgotten as the sea lions swam and played around us. I don't know if I'd call them friendly, exactly, but they certainly had more curiosity than fear about us. Arne squealed and laughed like a child whenever they approached him. I squeed a lot too, but when I crinkled up my face to do so, water got in around the edges of my mask, so I tried to control myself.

Honestly, I did find the experience a little intimidating. The smaller sea lions were the size of medium to large dogs, and had a tendency to swim with open-mouthed playful expressions that showed a lot of teeth. When one of the giant males swam across my field of vision I froze like a scared bunny. I never forgot that these were wild animals. But magic is the unknown, and the unknown is scary - and this was absolutely magical. I'll never forget the soft brown eyes of one particular sea lion who swam to within eight inches of me, looking me right in the eye, then spun away into the darkness below.

I don't know how long we stayed at Los Islotes. Cold as the water was, I could have stayed twice as long. But eventually we had to go. We climbed back into the boat and made the short trip to Esperanza Beach on Espiritu Santo, where we relaxed while our guide prepared lunch for us. It was a surprisingly tasty meal, starting with a simple brothy soup with big chunks of cauliflower, cabbage, and carrot. When we'd finished that we had nicely cooked fish, a simple salad, rice, and tortillas.

After some more playing in the beach - I kayaked while Arne tried to master stand-up paddleboarding - we headed back to La Paz, tired and content. But one more delight awaited us that day. A pod of dolphins approached our boat; they followed us for some time, leaping in breathtaking fashion and surfing in our wake. It was a perfect end to an amazing day.

Go to Part 1