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So we had our grand opening of the Happy2You vintage shop this past weekend in Wimberley, Texas.  It was an amazing day that poured over deep into the night. The most perfect weather in the mid-80s, our beautiful friends and Wimberley neighbors who all felt like they were the millionth customers, all bought some swag and listened to us pick and grin on the porch.  For the grand finale, my hillbilly brood [consisting of hubby and bassist lunchmeat, 9-year-old son/fiddle-meister Thomas, and 4-yr old daughter Julia Odessa] and I closed with our favorite misogynistic Hee Haw skit:

You took off your pegleg, your wig and your glass eye
And you should have seen the look on my face
I wanted to kiss and hug you my darlin’
But you were just scattered all over the place

Chorus:
Where, oh where are you tonight?
Why did you leave me here all alone?
I searched the world over and I thought I found true love
You met another and, Pffft, you were gone

(The entire Old Town Square chimed-in for this part as well.)

The Happy2You shop started with a bang.  The last echoes murmured across the monster wall of Johnny-Peavey-Walker speakers…“shave and a haircut (from Thomas’s fiddle), two bits!”….”Happy 2 You!”.

But where the evening ended up was very bizarre and cosmic. (Minus the Ouija board and Twister mat…nope, it was way more of a Truth or Dare crowd.)  Under the hill country stars gazed a cast of outlaws and misfits combined with brief cameos of rabid turkeys, creepy neighbors and a one-off in a purple dress that insulted each and every one of us before she was escorted away unaware of her special place in our hearts. I soon realized once the out-of-tune guitar got passed around a few times, that this was one of those days and nights that will be talked about for-evah.

Let’s rap about the main circle of old and newly found friends for awhile.  Every one of us had found each other over the years not through coincidence, not through facebook or six degrees of separation – but because we were all survivors or products, if you will, of the trail of beautiful disasters that the generation of Austin musicians and artists before us had left behind. Yes indeed, the blueblood daughters, sons, ex-wives, and siblings of Austin’s hey-day somehow all found each other on this night…forming a group of vignettes which would have made a great short film.  We simultaneously laughed, cried from laughter, yelled, cursed and just plain behaved badly,  as our DNA would predict.  It was a tough room, and no one was spared as each performed endearing, yet some sarcastic renditions of songs that may or may not have written or covered by our musical families.  But out of respect, we all mumbled and slurred the choruses in harmony, barely making it through one complete song without cracking up laughing. The family dirt rose once or twice, but our well-guarded back-of-the-bus family secrets were then tucked safely away like those of the mafia.

“I knew it was you Fredo…You broke my heart”

The mayhem went on for what seemed like hours – and was ultimately the therapy that we all needed for being “one of us”. It dawned on me that this symbolic day and night gave each and every one of us the confidence and thematic platform to sing our own songs at the end of the night – with equal and absurd passion, heartache and raw beauty shining through our latent musical genes.

Last weekend, Calvin Russell also passed away.  A local musical icon that struggled with addiction, burden and full-on heartache much of his life.  Calvin turned to and was often saved by music in his darkest hours – in addition to being an Austin legend, he found HUGE success in Europe rockin’ the French clubs for 3 hours straight and going home with sometimes 15 grand a night.  BUT Dude, this guy was born into this world with no chance in hell…and when I read the description of his beginnings “he was one of four children, the only one that did not die in infancy”, it just about took me down.  The majority of his life he spent in and out of jail and his inability to conform apparently comforted him – maybe it was the only constant in his life.  When asked about his checkered past, he stated that prison in Huntsville was way tougher than Mexican prison.  It blows me away that he knew life at the very bottom but made no apologies for his past nor his inclination to be bad or fall back on his dysfunctional roots.

His website bio begins…“Calvin Russell was born a few minutes after a full solar eclipse, on the dark side of the planet, as it slipped from the grasp of the shadow of the moon.”

So another beautiful disaster, who started out with no chance in hell and ended up meaning the world to so many, has left the planet. RIP Calvin, you were a survivor and a stoic…give em’ hell in the next life.

I will leave you with this, it doesn’t matter what load of shit starts off in your lap as a babe…what matters is that at least one other person can share your pain and relate to your song. And seriously, can one’s song be worth-a-shit if his/her life isn’t a mess at one time or another?  Less interesting staff writers may be able to turn a phrase on command, but my songwriting heroes have always been lunatics.

Rejection loves company.

Peace, Love and…Happy2You!

I am at a point in my life where my eyes are wide open and I am looking forward to what’s round the ole corner.  This year I will take more chances … yep, feeling a little out of control seems right this year.  I am ready to go full-throttle on the back-side of thirty…and challenge the “it’s all downhill from here” theory.  No, I don’t mean mid-life crisis shenanigans…after all, it’s a slippery slope from sexy dancing to full-tilt naughty neighbor parties.  

I think my mental transformation started to take place right about the time my 3-year old little girl Julia Odessa coined the phrase “Happy to you” a year or so ago.  And it has spread throughout the town of Wimberley and to our extended Austin music family.  We go into the grocery store or post office and folks are saying Happy 2 U!.  I get texts and emails Happy 2 U!  I had a dream that Joan Rivers was signing off from the red carpet “Happy 2 U darling!”. This phrase has innocently spread love and community to all of the people that have embraced it. 

So as a tribute to Julia Odessa and the peace that she has inspired, my Bohemian friends and I will open a vintage / music store in Wimberley this March.  There you will meet the Happy 2 U meister Johnny Walker – he will charm you with his high-water overalls and passion for music and innocent creatures.  He will make you forget where you needed to be and you will immediately want to adopt him as your own personal house-boy to cheer you up on blue days.

If hula-hooping hot chicks in tu-tus is a turn on for you, Beth-the-badass can give you a personal hoop lesson for a $5 donation to Up-with-Mutts, a non-profit benefiting dog rescue and adoption. There will be a cup of great coffee if you wanna sit a spell and listen to some turn-table tunes or live music at the gazebo by area singer-songwriters/musicians.  And, if you are looking for some totally bitchin threads from the 60’s, 70s, or 80’s or killer vintage accessories for the honky chateau, we shall accommodate. 

I feel like good things are ahead if Happy 2 U has anything to do with it…besides, you Can’t Go Back.

When I was just a baby

I was raised in bars

Grew up pissin’ on tires and chasin’ cars

Now I get off on shootin’ stars

And you can’t go back no more

 No you can’t go back no more

You can find you were wishin’ instead

Hey baby you were somethin’ before the war

But you can’t go back no more

 This week I salute one of my favorite Mexican concoctions Shredded Pork Tacos with cilantro, pineapple and feta cheese.

Pork Loin Roast

Chicken Stock

Garlic

Dried Mexican Oregano

Fresh Pineapple

Fresh cilantro

Feta Cheese

Corn tortillas

Combine first four ingredients in a roasting pot and cook for several hours on medium low heat adding chicken stock as needed. When pork starts to fall apart and cooking juices/stock has almost all evaporated you are ready to serve. Pork should be moist but not soggy when spreading in warm tortilla.  Garnish with chopped pineapple, cilantro and feta cheese.  These tacos have amazing flavor and are low in fat too!

Happy 2 U!!!!

I played a show this past weekend at the legendary Gruene Hall in New Braunfels.  It was like who-ville … the town bustling with shoppers and the “lighting of the Christmas Tree” celebration, streets roped off.   It had been 85 degrees that day and once the sun fell, Texas received a Norther that [at least] made it seem cold enough for hot chocolate.

Although I do love the Christmas Holidays, my childhood along with my general skewed view of the world has me still searching for other interpretations of the meaning of Christmas.  Being the 4^th child in a poverty-stricken small town with divorced parents gave me plenty of reasons to want to find Christmas.  As most 1970’s custody-battle kids, I spent many holiday hours on a Grey Hound bus sitting behind the driver.  Back then, putting a 7-year old on a bus alone didn’t raise many eyebrows.  I got on and off at midway stops and perused the aisles of the coffeeshop or truckstop, where a couple of passengers were picked up or dropped off.  I always made it back to the bus on time before it roared down 290 towards Johnson City and then on to Austin.

My mother frequently “forgot” to pick me up from the downtown Austin bus station, so I sat behind the counter with the ticket lady who had some peppermint candy to keep me company.  I remember checking every payphone change hole for that lucky dime or two which might buy me a treat in the vending machines.  I was fascinated with the one which held toiletries such as black plastic combs, soap, and Aspirin instead of potato chips or candy. Who was the genius behind this machine? Or maybe not.  But I was fascinated, and I was soon ready for a life on the road.  What an adventure to take the bus all over the country and buy socks out of a vending machine in the winter…I had it all planned out, my kid-hobo life on the bus. Maybe I would even take up smoking so I could sit in the long triple seat at the back of the bus with the crazy-eyed man and his dog Shemp.

My hobo daydream was interrupted as the scene was stolen by my drunken mother as she flung open the doors of the bus station and slurred loudly, “There’s my BAAAAABy!”. That night, we took out half of an I35 guardrail as an encore performance to skipping-out on paying for a tank of gas.  I closed my eyes and thought of how I would have been in better hands with “crazy-eyes” and Shemp.  “Next stop Ozona, Midland-Odessa!”

Over the years I have come to realize how much I take for granted.  My life has been full of color from day 1 and although sometimes I feel that I should not have survived, I did.  Even if making it past the age of 18, statistics would say that there was probably little chance of future success.  In fact, the odds were definitely in my favor for meth-lab ownership or marrying my first cousin.  At a minimum, I should have been knocked up at age 15 by a stereo salesman in a Camaro named Rod.  Instead, I fell in love with a bass player twice my age named Lunchmeat and we wed under the stars and danced to George Jones’ “walk through this world with me” and Lucinda’s “Prove My Love”…we have been together for 20 years, have two kids, make beautiful music together and laugh a lot. 

Finding Christmas is never hard as long as my heart, mind, eyes and ears are all open.  When I close my eyes and think about Christmas,

I hear … Pretty Paper by Willie Nelson and The River by Joni Mitchell

I smell …tamales…freshly cut cedar from a chainsaw…diesel exhaust from a Greyhound bus

I taste …tamales…German panas…those ribbon candies at the nursing home where my Grandma Julia would use my cherub face to make the old-and-lonely smile

I feel ….the strings of artificial icicles in my hand…breadsacks-over-socks winter gloves … the pieces of loose shag carpet and hair stuck on my 3-day-old giant peppermint stick, yeah Baby!

And I see the many colors as they continue to decorate the branches of my tree of life.  Have Mercy on the Ordinary.

It’s comin’ on Christmas

Their cuttin’ down trees

Their puttin’ up reindeer

Singin’ songs of Joy and Peace

I wish I had a river

I could skate away on….Joni Mitchell

This week, I salute my favorite breakfast during the holidays, German Panas.  I suggest that you visit a meat market in a German town such as Fredericksburg or Comfort, TX.  If I gave you the recipe, it might completely gross you out…but Panas rock!  Buy a block of panas and cut the masa-like loaf into ¼-inch slices.  Fry the slices in canola oil or bacon grease until golden brown on both sides. Serve with over-medium fried egg or German soft-boiled eggs.

Non-traditional Holiday book recommendation: I read Las Christmas every year at Christmas – a set of short stories from various Latino writers who contribute a memorable Holiday Story or tradition along with a latino holiday recipe which makes the imagery in the story even more vivid to the mind. It is a scream!!! These stories are rich with colorful family life so very reminiscent of my own childhood and holiday family gatherings. It’s actually in the Food section at your local book store.  Warning: Not recommended as XMAS bedtime stories for the kiddies.

Peace, Love and…

Happy 2 U

I know that I am not the only one from a family who chooses to air their grievances instead of giving thanks during the holidays, but somehow it just doen’t seem like a real Texas holiday if “cocksucker” doesn’t get used at least once at the dinner table.   It’s funny, through all of the turmoil and regular holiday disasters, we always came back for more, every year.  Aside from the drama, there was plenty of feasting on great homemade food from my german-born grandmother, pearl beer, and card games or dominos til late in the night.

The last few years we have spent Turkey-day with my husband’s family – I promised him that we would make a change in family venue since the last holiday at my Dad’s resulted in the arrival of five fire departments and a year long family feud.  As I recall, I believe it began and ended with somebody calling somebody a cocksucker.

Going to my inlaw’s for the holidays feels so weird though.  Everyone is happy to see each other and well-behaved.  Sure, they chainsmoke in the house without cracking a window and take an artificial christmas tree out of the hefty bag in the closet (ornaments still attached) without even straightening its poor plastic limbs. And there is never a fuss over cooking or traditional holiday meals – they have soup or sandwiches and as long as they’re all together nothing else matters. So, I thought to myself, maybe this is how we should all act during the holidays?  We shouldn’t get angry if Pop’s doesn’t put up lights or a tree, or if he doesn’t make it to the stores in time to get gifts and instead gives you something lying around the house and asks “you don’t have one of these do ya?”.  How do we forgive our petty crimes of the heart , accept each other and bury the cocksuckin’ hatchet!?

Tis the season to be thankful for so much.

I am thankful that cool weather is here and I can finally have Chili.  I am thankful that it is felt cowboy hat weather.  I am thankful that restraining orders can not be given on Thanksgiving or Christmas Day.

I am thankful for beer joints, bonfires, and brisket…brothers and sisters, the unconditional love of a man named “lunchmeat”…don williams, Bob Dylan, and Tom T. Hall…Mac Davis and Hee Haw…and the fat on a ribeye.

I am thankful for my many colored days … my close friends and babes who laugh at and with me…

And I am thankful for my Robison family Texas traditions which have made me the gal that I  am …not to mention all of the song-writing material

This week, I salute my grandmother Julia’s farting potato salad (it doesn’t, but you will)

German Potato Salad

5 slices of bacon, fried and crumbled, reserve bacon grease

Bake 3 or 4 large red or white potatoes until just firm but not completely done on the inside

Dice potatoes and broil on greased cookie sheet until golden brown

Dice and saute a medium onion in bacon grease until soft

Add 3 tablespoons of sugar to onion and bacon grease and reduce heat until sugar carmelizes.

Combine potatoes, carmelized sugar and onion with 1/4 cup cider vinegar and a tablespoon of grainy german mustard

Add crumbled bacon and dry parsley – and salt and pepper to taste

Best if allowed to set in refrigerator for at least 2 hours – serve warm.

Happy To You

So Blue
We’ll dance til the mornin’
Til’ we fall down or we shut down the lights
Oh darlin’ I love you
Like the cowboys love to fight
Like the Rednecks Love Saturday Night

I actually never went to Club 21, though I have passed by about a million times heading from east Texas to our Ranch in the Hill country and feel sad that I never stopped. I am sure that the town has much history to tell outside of the footprint of that old dancehall, but what I remember about that stretch of Hwy 21 that traversed the small town of Uhland, Texas was that Dancehall …no other details of the town stuck out so vividly in my memory.

I know that it feels like we live in a different world now, and we don’t rely on places like dancehalls for our sole source of entertainment, relationships, shenanigans, and hell-raisin’ anymore. Hell, I know I saw/heard some shit as a kid that probably wasn’t “appropriate” for young eyes/ears. But playing grab-ass while Adolph Hoffner sang about Pearl Beer and doing the Schottisch and Herr Schmidt gave me culture and attitude that can’t be replicated outside of these precious establishments. Did I mention dirty feet too?

After my parents got divorced, I spent even more time in dancehalls…my Mom took off with a cowboy [kind of like the one Sissy shacked up after she left Bud, in Urban Cowboy] and my Dad tried to raise all of us four dirty-feet Robison’s. We started going to dancehalls most weekends – I think two-stepping a little kept him from feeling so lonely. I remember once, him crying when the Jukebox (or cover band) played Kenny Roger’s Lucille…”you picked a fine time to leave me Lucille, four hungry kids and a crop in the field”…guess it hit a little too close to home.

Dancehalls were the place you went to feel good even when things were hard. If only I had more time to lie on my back next to the hound dog like Grandpa and Junior Samples did on Hee Haw and tell more dancehall stories… note to self, need to write a song about dirty feet.

This week, I salute my favorite tex-mex starter Guacamole

The best guacamole, in my opinion, has very few ingredients…avocados have a delicious flavor and too many times get covered up by too much lime juice, sour cream (wha???), or seasonings.

Guacamole & homemade tostada chips

Fresh Avocados
A hint of fresh squeezed lemon or lime
Salt & pepper to taste

The key is to whip the hell out if it, no lumps.

**make ahead of time but be sure and cover the guac with plastic wrap and extend the wrap to be in contact with the entire top surface of the dip. This will keep the guac from turning brown (seriously!).

For the chips, cut fresh thin white corn tortillas in triangles and fry in canola oil until golden brown. Season chips with dash of garlic powder, chili powder, and cumin. Serve hot.

**Note this whipped guacamole is an amazing substitute for butter on roasted corn on the cob!

Happy To You

We took the kids along to Luckenbach, a perfect venue for bikers, families, music lovers (or just lovers) and not to mention, a three and nine-year old.  It’s pure nostalgia there for me…and it could be a scene out of any one of my childhood memories of growing up in dancehalls.  Luckenbach is a Texas original – and could never be duplicated, no matter how many generations of rednecks open and close bars with distressed cedar facades and barn door restrooms.  Chasing the chickens and roosters, wearing my dusty old boots because they seem to fit more perfectly there, and playing sets of my songs where people really listen.

I think of Luckenbach when I was a kid….the men pissed in open-air urinals and the music performed (and recorded) there was epic.  And Hondo Crouch, forget about it…you can’t script that shit.  Keeping Luckenbach’s history and vibe intact has made it untouchable as one of country music’s and Texas’ most important and precious gems.

I followed up my perfect day at Luckenbach with the Sunday preparation of my fall garden and a day of perusing my kitchen diary for first fall dinner menu.  I had been to the Farmer’s market and purchased the in-season fruits and veggies not knowing what in THE hell I would do with them.  You know, fall gets a bad rap as far as fresh food choices…Summer has so much to choose from that even the non-foodies can whip up a great dinner by throwing a steak or ribs on the barby accompanied by some corn on the cob and home grown tomatoes.  In the fall, there are wonderful choices but you must think creatively about how to use them. But fall means soul food to me.

I purchased some butternut squash, eggplant, apples, and some late summer okra.  A lady behind me asked me “how are you going to cook that (squash)? “I dunno.” I said.

The Eggplant came in handy for an appetizer…slice and sauté in olive oil and mix in some fresh basil and feta (or mozzarella) and broil on baguette slices for a FAB crostini.

I knew I wanted to use the butternut squash for the main course – maybe stuffing it with something that I had in-house.  But not before my husband Lunchmeat couldn’t resist making a lewd gesture with it.  If you haven’t purchased butternut squash before, you’ll know it by its phallic shape.

Cooking creatively can be expensive but it doesn’t have to be. So, buy fresh and supplement with what you have in your freezer and pantry…that is KEY.  I found a couple of links of hatch-chili and chicken sausage in my freezer and decided to wing it from there.  Below is my recipe for Stuffed Butternut squash that turned out awesome by the way!

Baked Butternut Squash with Sausage Stuffing

Medium-sized butternut squash (cut length-wise and cleaned of seeds) clean a nice area in squash for stuffing…using a melon-baller is ideal for this.

For the stuffing: Saute (in butter) chopped onion, celery and garlic until golden brown, mix one link of raw sausage (preferably chicken based), one raw egg, and toasted bread pieces, salt & pepper to taste, and some dried or fresh herbs of your choice.

Optional ingredients for stuffing are pecans and some currants or apple.

Mix above ingredients and stuff squash opening.  Brush remaining surface area of squash with olive oil or cooking spray to keep squash moist.  Bake on 350 degrees for 35 to 40 minutes and until stuffing is golden brown.

Happy To You

But in these years I also made frequent trips to sour Lake (in the Beaumont area) where there are farms, not ranches and the food has soul.  “Sourlake Mama” (my great-grandmother) was meaner than hell (always accusing me of somethin) but my fonder memories are the persimmon, lemon, and orange trees in her backyard, chicken and dumplins that she rolled out by hand, turnip greens, kentucky wonder green beans, and cornbread with every meal.  We shelled peas together (i thought it was punishment at the time) and took summertime trips from east texas all the way to Fredericksburg (when Berg’s corner had real homemade peach ice cream) to haul back crates of peaches that would take days to peel and slice and put up in freezer bags.

Now I am a mother of two, a wife of 17 years, a musician and song-writer, and live in the Hill Country where I am indulging in the music and food that inspires me daily.  Being a fifth generation Texas girl is a brand that I am embracing with all of my heart and soul…my Texas music and food influences allow me to express myself and carry on the traditions that take balls.

This week I salute one of my favorite dishes – Borracho Beans

Being a musician and married to a bass player, we eat lots of beans. Perfecting a pot of beans takes patience and key ingredients.  I cook a pot of beans for 6 to7 hours.  Reduction is key, but you must be attentive because high heat is important for “the gravy”.  You will not find a slow-cooker in my kitchen (no offense).  I put several bags of beans in the freezer for future cooking, but not before we have 2 or 3 meals of freshly cooked borrachos – ala carte, in breakfast tacos, on chalupas, nachos, etc.

Dried Beans

- 2 cups water, 2 cups chicken stock (not the cheap salty kind)

- bacon or fat back

- rotel tomatoes

- fresh roma tomatoes

- 1 chopped bell pepper and onion

- fresh garlic chopped

- paprika, chili powder, mexican oregano, bay leaf, and cumin…some salt to taste

- pickled jalepenos and some pickling juice from jar

- i like to throw in a dried pepper like an ancho or guajillo if I have it

- fresh cilantro chopped and added when the beans are ready

add water and stock every hour as part of the reduction process and to keep scorching from occurring…at least a slow boil will  be required at all times

Happy To You