Life's So Sweet

 Ever since my last visit to New Mexico in 2012, I’ve had really strong, nostalgic feelings for the desert. That trip was healing for me in a lot of ways, giving me the chance to reconnect with family and friends, to really feel and experience the energy and magic of the landscape, and to really appreciate the land, the culture, and the people in ways I hadn’t been able during my depressing teenage years. That trip home even inspired me to write a short little article for Witches & Pagans magazine for their Element of Fire issue, and I've even begun to honor the desert in my own personal practices.  

You can’t go home again, and I’m glad. I wouldn’t want to. But I do like having home come to me, in little things like Hatch chilies, Kokopelli all over my house, and most of all, with food. Food is so tied to culture and place, and it can be hard to get good southern New Mexican style food in this area. Luckily for me, though, since my sister has been here she has made green chili stew, sopapillas, and bizcochitos. Oh yes.

Bizcochitos are the state cookie of New Mexico, and these little guys date back to the Spanish colonists of the region, hundreds of years ago. They’re made of lard and wine and anise and are really just amazing, and can be very similar to ginger snaps. My sister made them for the 2013 holiday celebrations – Yule, Solstice, Saturnalia, Christmas, New Years, etc. They’re often eaten during the Christmas season, but also popular for baptisms, funerals, and weddings.

What’s great about these little cookies is that they bring with them the magic of place. I’m not in New Mexico, but I can bring New Mexico to me. I may not be the descendant of a Spanish conquistador, but I am New Mexican, and I can share this unique culture with my North Carolina friends and family.

Some people don’t care for anise, but it really is a wonderful herb. Anise is great for the cold holiday months. It brings the properties of youth, protection, and purification. It spreads greater awareness and happiness. These are perfect for the time of the birth/rebirth of the sun/son, for shelter and security during the uncertainty of winter, and for bringing in the New Year. Anise brings with it mindfulness of flavor, of place, of being, and it is tangy and unique and sweet and joyful.

As many know, cooking and baking can be magical acts. My sister was so excited to prepare bizcochitos, and she made them with love and nostalgia, remembering her own experiences back in the desert. She was adorably eager and nervous to share these regional cookies with my friends here in North Carolina, but we figured that even if people didn’t like them, that would just mean more for us.

So even here on the cold and wet east coast, we can enjoy the taste, flavor, and memory of the desert. I was honored that my sister wanted to share these cookies with me, and we were both happy to share them with others as well.

 

Bizcochitos

1 ½ cup lard

1 ½ cup sugar

3 eggs

3 teaspoons anise seed

6 cups flour

1 teaspoon salt

½ cup sweet white wine (plus ¼ extra if needed)

½ cup sugar + 1 tablespoon sugar

Plus plenty of cinnamon and sugar

Cream together lard and 1 ½ cup sugar. In separate bowl, beat the eggs and wine together. Add the lard and sugar and mix well. In separate bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder and salt. Add the dry and wet mixture together. Your dough should be slightly sticky. Divide the dough into three large bowls and keep in the fridge overnight. Preheat your oven to 350. Roll the dough into little balls and roll these balls into a cinnamon and sugar mixture. Cook the little balls for 10-15 minutes in the oven. After they are done cooking, roll them again in cinnamon and sugar so you get a double coating. Enjoy!

(My sister doesn’t remember where she got this recipe. It’s written in her journal. But if you own this recipe, let me know and I’ll give you credit! Other recipes and variations can be found all over the internet, and they’re really super easy to make!)

Take It Home

We moved into this house in August after being at a place for nearly seven years. It had been really hard for me to leave that little witchy cottage, but after a whole plethora of very serious structural problems and an absentee landlady, we knew it was time to go.

Our new place is pretty great, but as a busy graduate student I haven’t had a lot of time to do work here. I started the semester just as soon as we were moved in and unpacked, so there has been very little settling in time in this new place. In a lot of ways, I feel like it’s been a very nice, comfortable hotel stay, and not a “home.”

On top of that, my pride was pretty insulted when another witch came by and said “how long have you been here?” and then went on to tell me how the place didn’t feel very magical and was I sure a witch really lived in this place?

Ouch.

I did a pretty intense ritual cleansing and blessing of the home and property before we moved in, and we have a little household altar in a communal space with gifts and offerings from all who live here, so it’s not like no magic has been done in this space. And these things like building relationships and energy take time, right?

After a series of plumbing problems (clogged drains, replacing water pumps, broken water heaters) I gave a few frantic prayers to Cloacina, who is the Roman goddess of the sewers. After a month of water issues I began to wonder if all of the problems we had been having weren’t just bad luck, but perhaps I had made some land, local, and house spirits feel angry or neglected.

Now that my semester is over I have some more time and I’m trying to be very aware and intentional with how I spend that time. Yes, I have to write holiday cards and my report for my volunteer work is overdue and my bathroom floor needs to be scrubbed, but on Saturday I decided to do some much needed yard work. Seriously, I’ve been looking forward to this for months, even going as far as buying bulbs about a month ago in anticipation for my free time in December.

It’s hard for me to do a lot of yard work because I have tendonitis in my wrists from when I was a barista in my past life. Despite the pain I knew was to come, my sister and I raked the front area in front of the house, where a flower bed should be. Before we moved in this house had some heavy-duty work done to it (all the stuff our old place needed). When the foundation and plumbing were fixed, all of the plants and bushes right out front were torn out. So all that we have right now is dirt and rocks and roots and random sheets of black plastic.

It was hard work and we were out there for hours and my arms and hands hurt for two days and my knees are bruised, but it felt very, very good to be out there, getting dirty and sweaty and making my space look nice. It’s not perfect because it’s December and there are limits to even my magic, but it looks much cleaner, and maybe feels a bit happier. And I’m really hopeful for hyacinths and daffodils next spring, and I have plans for some wild flowers and maybe even a tomato plant or two.

But really it’s not just about the yard looking nice, but about me seeing the worms and spiders and the little tiny salamander, and getting dirt in my hair and under my nails and my sweat in the soil and really touching the land, feeling the land. And it’s about spending time with my sister and not sitting in front of the computer, worrying about class or my clients or anything else.

It was me and my sister, and the dirt and the rocks, the land spirits and the bulbs. It’s about making connections and putting down roots, because these things take time. But when the time is there it’s good to use it because the results will be satisfying and hopefully, I’ll have flowers in the spring.