Meet Me At, Uh...Yourself!

It was hot.

It was crowded. 

Long lines for everything. 

I took a look around. 

I left. 




OH! But I did manager to snap a photo:

It was on the side of a food truck. Yay!

Cheers!


Metal Influence:

COCK AND BALL TORTURE

Further tale of day job woes

A word of caution and advice!:

Do not publicize you getting a new job via social media before you have signed all the proper paper work, passed every background check and have actually completed a full shift. Trust me here.

I wont bore you with the "I've been without a day job since February" bit again so I'll just jump into it.

A local beverage company was looking for someone to make the rounds across Tucson and clean the beer lines for various bars, restaurants and so forth on their roster. I applied. Sounds easy enough. Sort of up my alley as far as being a food writer goes and that I have bartended before. I have a great car and flexible schedule. Lets do it!

A few weeks after my application I get a call from them to come in and interview. On that day I put on a nice shirt, actual long adult pants and clean shoes. I arrived a few minutes before my call time, as you should always do, read one of the magazines about the company and the newest lines of beers and wines and so forth before the guy interviewing me came and got me from the front lobby.

It seemed pretty casual. The guys were just hard working, beer toting dudes and it was the first time I heard 'shit' and 'fuck' during an interview. Everything went well. So much in fact that they wanted me to come back for a second interview to meet with the department head, who was out of town for a meeting.

So when I went back for the second interview, again dressed nicely and all adult like, I was pleased to find that I was "hired" and that they just wanted to be sure the department head liked me and that I actually wanted the job. He did and I did.

The only steps I had to take was a background check and drug test. No problem.

I've never been arrested. Heck I haven't had a violation since that one speeding ticket I got almost ten years ago when I was running late for my closing shift at this restaurant I was managing. And drugs? Yeah, no. Long gone are those days. The intense edible the wife and I ate, then gave back because of its insane potency, had passed through my system years ago. So I was confident because I knew I was good to go.

That's when I went home and announced via Facebook that I had a new day job and it was a pretty cool one at that. I got a bunch of 'likes' and congrats in the comment section. Finally my non-day job reign of terror was over. Yipee!

Having done and undergone background checks before I knew that it only took a few hours or maybe a day. So when the company didn't call me back I got worried. Did some red flag pop up on my background? Was I secretly in some type of trouble. Did that time I got popped by police in Salinas, CA when I was 16 for skateboarding on protected property show up? Oh no! So I called and left a message regarding the status of my check.

The next day one of the guys calls back saying I'm good to go. The next step was to stop by the office, fill out some paper work and get my drug test done. So I drove down to the office, met with the head of human resources, filled out all the paperwork before her telling me locations as to where I can get my drug test done. One was actually close, like maybe a mile down the road, so I opted for that one.

When I arrived I was kind of put off by the location and look of the place. It resembled some type of converted methadone clinic and the people in the lobby looked like they needed methadone. Before I even filled out any paperwork there my anxiety was kicking in. I have what some refer to as 'white coat fever', or innate discomfort around doctors and hospitals. Now, when my wife was admitted to hospital in January I squashed that fear because she is far more important to me than my own well being. So I showed up everyday ready to see her and make her as comfortable as possible. But when the subject switches to me for examination, I get dizzy and nervous.

As I sat in the lobby of eternal sadness, I could feel, and hear, my heart racing. I just wanted to get this done. Pee in a cup and get out!

A nurse called my name, so I stood up and followed her into the annals of the clinic. Just like clockwork, boom, she asked me to step into a lavatory and pee up to a line in a clear plastic cup. Luckily I had been drinking a lot of water, knowing I had to do this. I hit the line then released the rest into the toilet. And kept going. And going. Whew...I do drink a lot of water but this felt like some kind of anxiety pee. Anxie-pee. We'll stop there.

Thinking that I was done, the nurse then lead me further down the hall. She had me stand against a wall and do an eye chart read. Oh...kay. So I did, read what I could and that should be that. Right?

No.

Then I was lead further into the clinic and placed inside a room. Wait. What? What's going on here? All I wanna do is clean beer lines for a few bucks an hour. I should be done by now, on my way home where I was going to pick up a sandwich from this deli I spotted. This is weird.

Eventually another nurse entered the room. This one was older, a bit weathered and obviously gay. Her no nonsense flattop gave that away. Sorry...but, yeah. She then told me I was going to do a full physical.

What?

A full physical? To clean beer lines? This is...c'mon. This is nuts.

It was here that my anxiety hit full throttle. I was panicking. Erratic, blurred vision, all of that. In fact I almost walked out. If they want a full physical they can have me go to my doctor and have it done correct...and with me being somewhat more calm.

The nurse had me do squats, leg lifts, all of that. Then, and here is where I should have walked out, she asked me to drop my pants.

Oh, uh huh. Why? Why do I have to drop my pants? Are you looking for drugs? Or do you just want a gander of the goods that you, obviously, have no interest in whatsoever. But I was numb. Speechless. So I did what she asked and then, boink, before I knew it she was digging around down there.

That's when I backed away and said, "I'm sorry...what is this? I..."

Before I could finish, the nurse got up, slipped off her gloves and said she would be right back. Thinking that was it I hoisted my shorts back up and was preparing to get out as fast as I could. Before I could make my move, the nurse returned. With another nurse. But this was no ordinary nurse. He was a big fella and stood by the door with his arms crossed, looking at me with reserve.

It then dawned on me: this is the kind of drug creff clinic where they have to deal with all sorts of problematic clientele. Maybe my erratic behavior could indicate that I was capable of lashing out in some way. Holy crap! How bad do I want this job? At that point it was either just get it over with or cause a scene. And if I caused a scene that would just make matters far worse for me. So I stood there and waited for my next instruction.

"Please. Pull your shorts just above your knees."

Jeeze! So with a heavy huff I did so. She poked around, asked me to cough and then was done. She looked at the big male nurse with a nod and he took off. I pulled my shorts back up and was in near tears. The nurse looked totally put off by me. But I didn't care. I just wanted a fun day job to break me away from the laptop and smallness of our home a few hours a week. This was an embarrassment. This had gone too far.

The nurse then asked me to lay down on a "bed" with that butcher paper on it and "relax". She then told me she'd be back in 20 MINUTES! 

20 minutes? How am I supposed to relax in 20 minutes? I'm just going to lay there and continue to freak out. Once again, when she turned off the lights and left, the urge to flee washed over me. Hard.

As I lay there in that musty clinic room, hearing the voices pass in the hall, all I could think about is how my life got to this point. Here I am, a 48 year old struggling writer that just needs to make a couple of bucks extra and take some of the financial burden of off his wife, who does nothing but work. As I tried to 'relax' all I could do was hear my heart thump-thump in my chest. I knew what was coming next and I knew it would not be good.

After a bit a different nurse returned with, just as I guessed, a blood pressure gauge. That's when I began to sweat. My whole life I have had to deal with high blood pressure. I eat as healthy and as low sodium as I can. I take supplements to keep it down. I get good sleep. I am not that stressed out. I listen to calming symphony music when I write or read. It's still higher than normal but, again, something that my doctor is well aware of and could address with the company.

The nurse wrapped that velcro arm band around me and began to pump the squeezy thing. I could feel the tourniquet tighten around my upper right arm. To such a level that I actually said "Ow" at one point. When it was at its most painful is when she laid the stethoscope on me and took my pulse, which was racing. Eventually she released the pressure, ripped off the band, took down some notes and took off.

So I sat up and waited to hear about the bad news.

Lesbian nurse returned with blood pressure nurse and both of them looked distraught.

"Uh," said lesbian nurse. "You're blood pressure is high. Like very high."

"No surprise," I said. "I do have high blood pressure but I am also having a bit of a panic attack."

The nurses looked confused.

"Did you have anything to drink last night?"

"Yeah. Couple of cocktails. Maybe three or four."

Nurses looked distraught again.

"Well drinking in excess can make you spike."

Excess? But what about me panicking right now? Can...can you bring that up?

After all was said and done, I was free to go. As I drove home I was still lightheaded and really had to concentrate on getting me there safe. Once inside the house, I immediately went and laid on the bed and texted my wife what had happened. She texted back with a "Serious? All that to clean beer lines?" That's what I said!

About an hour later one of the guys that interviewed me called.

"Yeah. Says here your blood pressure is a bit high."

"I told her that. I really wish I knew I was getting a full physical. And I wish that I could have done it through my doctor."

"It also says here that the nurse could smell alcohol on your breath."

"WHAT? That's insane! I had a couple last night but ate food, slept and brushed my teeth in the interim. There's no way that's true. C'mon."

He then said that they'll get back to me and let me know. For the rest of the day I just laid on the bed trying to block out what had happened. I felt kind of violated. And cheated. And kind of lied to. They said I had to pass a background check and drug test. There was no mention of a full physical.

Come Monday I got the news that I did not get the job. So I went back, deleted my original post about getting the gig and then having to explain to friends that I did not have the job. Which sucks.

Kinda.

A buddy that did the same job for a while said that the money and bullcrap you have to deal with and put up with wasn't worth it. And after what they put me through, I think he was right.

So that's it kids. Why I didn't get the job cleaning beer lines. As I type this I am still out of a proper day job but a hint or two have been coming my way. In the meantime, I write, I take care of my hard working wife, make sure the cat is happy, clean up and make the house a home and continue the fight for gainful employment.

Although all I that am really good at is writing. And all I wanna do is write. So I guess I'll work on that a little harder.

Cheers.

Metal Influence: 

MASTODON

"Workhorse"

Charro Rides Again!

If I'm writing about a place or a person, my goal is to never make the blog about me. Like, at all.

In this intro though...I'm gonna make it a bit about me for a sec. If you don't mind. I'll keep it brief. I promise.

This article should have been written months ago. Months. But I only just recently got to it knowing that I wanted to do my part in showcasing the amazing efforts of the Flores family, who own the series of Charro restaurants across Arizona: El Charro, Charro Steak, Charro Del Rey and now Charro Vida, which is a plant focused concept that opened up earlier this year to wide yielding success. When you see the pics I took you can easily see why this place became nearly immediately embraced. The food, as with all the other Charro spots, is inventive and delicious.

I sat with executive chef Gary Hickey about a week or two after it opened. He was so generous with providing me with at least half a dozen dishes that I could photograph and eat. This is the same guy that gave me his bike which, recently, got stolen from our yard one night. Gary is a force to be reckoned with in the Tucson culinary enclave and I am proud to call him a friend.

(here is where I gab about me for a bit)

But this year has been very hard for me. Not as bad as 2014 where my wife and I lost five family members in a matter of a few months, but more personally, and financially, problematic.

As you may or may not know, I was basically forced out of my library day job in February and have had minimal to zero success in finding another job since. Of course I still have the Tucson Weekly, and I did drive a truck for a few months for Ace Hardware, but nothing else has come through concrete. Wrestling with a chemical imbalance my whole life, there were days, weeks, where I really wasn't doing too well. I'd struggle through to turn in an article for the Weekly and then give up writing, among other things, all together after for a bit. When I'd perk up I'd blog or contribute to some writing projects that I have going on but...not really. The book I started should have been done already. I'd just sit and stare at the glowing laptop screen, type a word or two, give up and watch something on Netflix or go back to bed.

Just recently I interviewed for two jobs I thought I had in the bag but both came up negative. I can only take that as a sign as "Shut up Whittaker...and get back to writing!"

So I am done feeling sorry for myself and wallowing in self pity and now all I wanna do it chat about my friend's amazing new restaurant and the contributions they continue to proliferate in our community.

Shall we get on with it?

I say we shall...

Si Charro!

It was an absolutely beautiful early spring day when I was invited to come hang out with Gary and Charro Vida owners Ray and Carlotta Flores. The Flores' were busy with a company meeting so Gary served as sole narrator. As we sat outside enjoying the cool breeze before its quick leap into summer jet engine blast furnace, we chatted as servers brought out plate after plate of colorful still life edible performances.

"El Charro's original owner, Monica Flin, migrated to Tucson from France to help build the rose window for Saint Augustine Cathedral," Gary said. "She opened El Charro in nineteen twenty two. The name comes from farmers and ranchers from Salamanca Spain. Charro means cowboy really. Campo Charro is one of the eleven regions in Salamanca and was the inspiration for the restaurant and the food they served. Still is."

El Charro, as you already know, is famous for introducing the world to the chimichanga, which is a deep fried burrito. According to legend, Monica Flin accidentally dropped a burrito in a fryer and was about to yell out "CHINGADA!" or 'fxxk!'. Instead she stopped mid 'chi' and finished it with 'changa' which loosely translated means 'thingamajig'.

The origin of the chimichanga is still being debated today but us Tucson locals know the real truth. It was Monica Flin at the original location of El Charro.

C'mon world. You know this. 

Just a heap pile of yum

The Flores family took over El Charro in the 1970's as Carlotta is the great grand niece of Monica Flin. Since then, the Flores' have expanded their culinary empire with a steak concept (Charro Steak), a seafood spot (Charro Del Rey) right next door to it on Broadway Ave. in downtown Tucson.

Now we are lucky to have Charro Vida, a well thought out healthy option concept that starts with the essentials such as local produce and choice fats such as olive and rice bran oils along with avocado butter and take it from there. They source their proteins locally, use gluten free grains and separate their fryers, filled with trans fat free oils, to maintain a gluten free cooking environment. Their sea salt comes directly from the Sea of Cortez and use hemp in their line of Hola Hemp tamales.

"When we sat down and planned the menu, we had no idea there was an actual connection between Mediterranean and Mexican diets," Hickey explains. "We have diabetics coming in on a regular basis because they can eat foods that don't involve high fructose corn syrup, because we use stevia and agave instead. Our mole is nut free and we offer fried plantains instead of corn based chips because of certain allergies. Everything on our menu went through countless hours of approach and trial. In the end we are very proud of what we serve here."

As with the other Charro restaurants, you can taste the dedication in each bite. Clean yet very robust flavors overtake in the greatest way possible. The Ahi Tuna Stack nearly reeked of the ocean and was cut with citrus notes, spice from jalapenos and chile harrisa along with crunch from sesame seeds and plantains. The Mesquite Asparagus dish could easily turn any meat monger vegetarian for a spell. A simple notion turned complex by grilling the asparagus with lemon followed by an elderberry reduction, spiced pepitas then topped with Tucson based goat cheese.  Absolutely stunning.

Another standout was the Salmon de la Costa, a whimsy of color and olfactory sensation brimming with charred Brussels sprouts, house cured hummus, smoky paprika and a light chimichurri featuring toothsome pepitas.

All of it, so good.  

Stack it up!

The design and logo for Charro Vida was a deeply conceptualized as well. You can see it above in my banner shot at the top.

"It derived from the buttons the Charros made and wore," Gary informs. "They were these intricate buttons they wore on their jackets or as a necklace, passed down from generations. The Charro Vida logo has twelve dots and hints of hearts which mimic the rose window. In the center is the agave plant which is one of the most resilient plants out there. They survive in the desert for years, you can make clothes out of it, and best of all, tequila is derived from the agave. The whole design pays homage to Monica and Jules Flin and the jewelry worn by the Campo Charros. So there is a rich history with everything you see, and eat, here at Charro Vida."


And its exactly that well thought out pulchritude that makes the Flores family and chefs such as Gary Hickey a Tucson treasure. You aren't just eating delicious food here, you're taking in a multitude of traditions and memory, all done with care and a forward thinking, intelligent means to the cuisine. Charro Vida is the kind of joint where your fussy vegan friends can find culinary solace, along with that carnivorous lot that is hesitant to try anything "new" or "interesting" because the short ribs and carne asada here are insanely good.

As we sat and talked, while I ate and took pictures, Gary told me he is working on a dessert menu with his pastry chef.

"He made these gluten and dairy free churros that were out of this world," beams Hickey. "They are really difficult to make so we are working it all out trying to make it work. We had the daughter of a friend try one because due to several allergies she has never had a real churro. She took a bite and told us that it was the best churro she ever had. We all laughed because it was her first. Its because of people like her and moments like that makes us do what we do. Which is to make people happy."

I know I'm always happy when I'm in any of the various Charro restaurants. Charro Vida is a near revelation though. With this blog I can give you an idea what you are in store for when you visit. It's best to just get out and get in there.

You'll be happy that you did.

Slammin' salmon

A big thank you to Carlotta, Ray and Sasha Flores for continuing letting me stop by, take pics, hang out and eat your amazing food. You kids rule.

And cheers to my buddy Gary Hickey for carrying out the Flores' vision and for being a culinary badass. Sorry those stupid ass monkeys stole the bike you gave me. It was fun up till then!

Apologies to everyone for not posting this much, much earlier. Now that summer is over and the Halloween decorations are up I'm easing my way out of a months long, introspective man-baby slump. I tend to forget how fun and distracting writing is. Especially when its about good friends and good food such as this.

Oh yeah, and Charro Vida has a full bar. The house margarita is flippin' off the wall. Trust me here.

Cheers all!

Gracias!

Camera, Typing and Feeling Honored
"Metal" Mark Whittaker
As Autumn Begins, 2019

Metal Influence: 

SEPULTURA

"Roots Bloody Roots"