laredo | Dos Gildas

Mother’s Day Buñuelos

May 13, 2012 By Gilda Valdez Carbonaro 12 Comments

On Mother's Day six years ago, I lost my son, my only child, to the war in Iraq. Every Mother's Day, since that day, I have felt unable to write for this blog about anything else besides what this loss has meant to me. How could I? Our children, for better or for worse, define who we are. At whatever age, they are the sun around which our lives revolve. The loss for me, then, has meant reworking the way I live my life, to find purpose, meaning and direction in the chaos. And to learn to find joy again. … [Read more...]

Filed Under: Desserts/Postres, Gilda V. Carbonaro Tagged With: alex, buñelos, laredo, mother's day

Home is Where the Spices Are

February 15, 2012 By Gilda (Dini) Karasik 10 Comments

If you ever find yourself in Laredo, Texas, you must stop in to say hello to my new friend, Elsa Sanchez, the owner and operator of La India Packing Co., Inc. & Tasting Room Cafe. La India has been a Laredo mainstay since Elsa's grandparents founded the company in 1924. Since then, the company has grown and their products are now sold in H.E.B., Walmart, and Fiesta stores throughout Texas. Elsa’s grandfather, Antonio R. Rodriguez, learned about medicinal herbs and spices from an old Indian woman in Lampazos de Naranjo, Mexico during the Mexican Revolution when he sought remedies to treat sick and injured soldiers along the northern border. Later, Don Antonio and his wife began selling candies and Mexican hot chocolate from their home on Marcella Avenue, the same house Elsa grew up in. Today, the house serves as La India’s headquarters and offers customers authentic … [Read more...]

Filed Under: Gilda (Dini) Karasik, Places, Reviews Tagged With: chile con carne, La India Packing Co., laredo, spices

Merienda Alarm Clock

April 17, 2011 By Gilda Valdez Carbonaro 9 Comments

In the hard drive of the brain are buried the myriad experiences of a lifetime, irrepressible memories ready to spring like a jack-in-the box, surprising us with their unpredictability. For example, around 3:30 on any afternoon at school when I'm not buried in work, when there is an unexpected lag in the usual mad teaching schedule, when the door of my classroom is closed and the rest of the world is on the other side, there is an alarm clock that goes off somewhere in my mind. Suddenly my memories turn to the routine (and the glories) of the merienda hour of my childhood. A chilly, rainy afternoon like today reminds me of how by this time, my mother would have had the table set with hot cinnamon tea or a glass of milk and a plate of hojarascas, semita, campechanas (her favorites) and conchas for her three daughters. Sometimes we were joined by aunts from across the river or señoras … [Read more...]

Filed Under: Desserts/Postres, Gilda V. Carbonaro, Musings Tagged With: cookies, hojarascas, la superior, laredo, merienda, occhio di bue

Planting Seeds and Promise

April 8, 2011 By Gilda Valdez Carbonaro 8 Comments

April memories of Laredo are of citrus trees, the creamy colored azahar (orange blossom) opening to the sun with the promise of glossy ripening oranges in the fall. How fickle I was back then when I took for granted the proliferation of orange, grapefruit, tangerine and lime trees our father planted around the house. Is it any wonder that today I am so partial to food with a hint of orange or lime zest? How could I have known then that I would spend the next 35 years in a place where these trees do not thrive? This has not, however, stopped me from trying to grow them in pots in my sun room. Three years ago, I was in San Miguel de Allende at the home of a friend, eating oranges and limes from her trees. I stashed some of the seeds in my jacket, intending to dispose of them only to find them in my pocket months later after I'd returned home. On a whim, I planted them. And low … [Read more...]

Filed Under: Gilda V. Carbonaro, Musings, Soups/Sopas Tagged With: childhood obesity, citrus, laredo, sopa de lima

La Mexicana

March 21, 2011 By Gilda (Dini) Karasik 7 Comments

Inside a kitchen not far from the Rio Grande a 94 year-old-woman stands but once a week now, her bones too old for more. The round comal at her waist is half as old. A starched smock aids her appearance as she plunges flautas one-by-one into oil that spits and sizzles and then swipes her hair from her face, both gestures grooved in time. … [Read more...]