San Antonio: More than Meets the Eye

When I moved to San Antonio four years ago, I felt confident the city was everything it appeared to be: A gorgeous southern town that seemed to always smell like flowers, where birds chirped and bees buzzed, and where, much like the scene pictured above, everything co-existed peacefully.

Now, I'm not so sure.

I stepped off the plane at the San Antonio International Airport back in 2013 like any other fresh-faced Millennial: Energetic. Open-minded. Curious. Ready to take notes. As a lifelong Midwesterner, life in a new city where palm trees grew on every corner and there was no harsh winter seemed like paradise.

My husband, Steve, and I moved into an apartment on a street with an idyllic name in Alamo Heights that was shaded by beautiful live oak trees. It had a pool and friendly neighbors, including a calico cat who has become our best friend. The apartment was a quarter mile from Steve's office and within walking distance of three coffee shops, Central Market, a tire and automotive shop, several banks and other amenities.

The greatest thrill for me, however, came from knowing I was in a new city and that I was anonymous.

Aside from a few friends of our family, no one here knew me, and I brimmed with excitement when thinking of all the people I was going to meet. Moving to San Antonio was a sign, I told myself. I was in the right place at the right time. The best part of my life was about to unfold, and I was going to live each day to the fullest, flexing my strength and resolve at every opportunity.

My bike parked near some mesquite trees in Olmos Park.

And I did.

All that happened, and then some more. Only it hasn't turned out quite the way I expected, and one of the reasons for that is San Antonio is more than meets the eye.

It's no secret this city, like much of the rest of the South, is rising in population. According to the U.S. Census, San Antonio's population grew to 1.49 million people in 2016, and this May, the Bureau reported it had the highest population growth of any city in Texas, with 24,473 people moving here between July 1, 2015 and July 1, 2016.

A view of the downtown San Antonio skyline, taken from Mahncke Park.

Now the seventh-largest city in the U.S., San Antonio is filled with extraordinary sights and attractions, steeped in a rich history that meshes past and present. The streets of downtown are like a carnival for the senses, with taco trucks and carts serving paletas and raspas to dazed visitors ambling along the limestone walk of Alamo Plaza.

San Antonio pulses with late night-energy. It's one of the few places where you can see a horse pulling a Cinderella carriage down Crockett Street next to multiple lanes of traffic and an historic Spanish Mission.

By the way, I'm not a fan of the horse-drawn carriages in downtown San Antonio. I don't think horses should have to breathe exhaust and clod on pavement to pull around people who would be better off walking. Horses should be romping in pastures. But I know they're part of the city's pastiche, so I accept that inconvenient reality.

It's all for the tourists anyway, right?

The River Walk looking east beneath Houston Street.

Well, sort of, except that tourism and hospitality are a major industry here – in fact, one of the top five industries. Travel supports more than 130,796 jobs in San Antonio,  meaning that one in every eight jobs in San Antonio depends on travel and tourism, according to the San Antonio Convention and Visitors Bureau.

The jobs at the restaurants along the River Walk involve hard manual labor with long hours and low pay. My first job in San Antonio was working for a family-owned catering company, and it turned out to be some of the hardest work I've ever done.

I'd like to say I learned right away that San Antonio is about much more than appearances, but the truth is, it took me a while.

Maybe it's because it is such a beautiful, colorful place that the stories that existed beneath – about the great passion and commitment that people put into San Antonio each day – seemed so subdued.

After six months at the catering company, I was starting to feel like I was stranded on a desert island, and not just because I ended up dehydrated at the end of a shift. I used to go to the grocery store afterward and marvel at all the fresh produce, picking up a peach or plum and thinking about the work that went into getting it to that shelf. It's easy to take that sort of thing for granted.

I'd worked in restaurants since high school, so I knew what it felt like to stand on my feet and run back and forth all day. The fatigue I experienced working for the caterer, however, was much stronger than any I'd known. No, I explained to my manager at the end of the shift, I wasn't tired of being pretty, I was tired from an exhausting job that I couldn't comprehend someone doing every day, let alone for years on end, with no prospects of long-term employment, health benefits or a salary.

Because people spend so much time on their feet in San Antonio, it strikes me as curious that it's not a more pedestrian-friendly place. Since I moved back, I've heard various complaints from visitors and natives that it's not a walkable city.

That's never stopped me from getting around on foot.

I've taken the sidewalks all the way up to the H-E-B in Lincoln Heights and down to the Pearl Brewery. There are parts of Broadway with a sidewalk on only one side of the street where I have to cross to the other side. Traffic can be daunting and sometimes scary, particularly at rush hour. However, it's always been possible, and despite my age and warm-weather attire, no one's ever bothered me. In fact, the last encounter I had while out walking was a cyclist who tried to steal a loaf of bread out of my shopping bag as he whizzed by in the opposite direction. He did not get the bread.

For these reasons, it took me a while to understand that when people say a place isn't pedestrian-friendly, they mean they don't think the City considers it a high priority.

In order for a place to be pedestrian-friendly, it has to do more than just build the sidewalks, bike lanes and corridors that will make up the infrastructure, but also design urban planning in a way that encourages people to lead a more active lifestyle. San Antonio is largely built to be traveled by car, with patches of walkability here and there, and mostly around areas that cater to people from out of town.

A crosswalk located at the corner of Broadway Street and Circle Drive in Alamo Heights.

Having said that, San Antonio has an invaluable treasure in the River Walk. Thanks to President Franklin Roosevelt's project carried out under the Works Progress Administration, downtown San Antonio not only has plenty of sidewalks, but a unique vista running below street level that provides shade, picturesque scenery, shops selling handmade gifts and Tex-Mex food for all.

The River Walk, while not a key destination for locals, is great, and the newer segments stretching north along the Museum Reach and south toward the San Antonio Missions National Historic Park are perfect for a quiet, relaxing walk away from the throngs of people eating at the restaurants along Commerce and Houston streets.

I've seen the city's walkability improve in leaps and bounds in the last four years, from new crosswalks and bike lanes along the streets surrounding Trinity University and the Japanese Tea Garden to the completion of the Avenue B corridor, enabling people to travel from Brackenridge Park all the way downtown. Once the city links all the paved trails in the Howard W. Peak Greenway Trails System that are dispersed and already semi-connected around the city, it will be possible to cross town on foot or bicycle without having to mingle with traffic.

The reason I place such importance on walkability is because it's one of the things that led me to change my initial impressions of San Antonio.

San Antonio will always be a great city, no matter what, with something for everyone to see and do. Their destination could be a show at one of the city's many historic theaters, or public art or street performance on Alamo Street. It could be an anti fake-news protest held by a local arts organization such as the Urban-15 Group at a conference of the San Antonio Association of Hispanic Journalists, or another event that encourages people of all citizenry to be active in national politics.

Maybe it's a burlesque show in the Deco District, or a party in a pavilion in the King William Neighborhood, a First Friday retreat. It could be a man joyriding in his1967 Chevelle Super Sport with the windows rolled down and spewing exhaust that gives a whole new meaning to vehicle idling.

San Antonio could be much more environmentally conscious, and new Mayor Ron Nirenberg has made air quality a priority since he was City Councilman in District 8 on the northwest side, sponsoring a vehicle anti-idling ordinance in 2016 that was unanimously approved by the San Antonio City Council. Until the city gets the rail system that it deserves, it's going to be an uphill battle to try and fight some of the powers that be who want transportation and infrastructure to remain essentially the same for years to come.

On a lighter note, San Antonio is home to a thriving music scene, with bands journeying from Austin and out of state to play at clubs along the St. Mary's Strip and at new venues such as the Tobin Center for the Performing Arts.

Acrobats climb horizontally across the side of the Tobin Center for the Performing Arts.

"Los de Esta Noche" performing during Urban-15's annual Incognito event. 

San Antonio has always seemed to me like a great place to be an artist or performer. The San Antonio Burlesque Fest continues to feature an exotic repertoire of stars in its annual Burlesque Festival, featuring a Friday Night Showcase Sept. 22 and a Saturday Night Spectacular the following night. Another local troupe, Stars and Garters Burlesque, will host a Babewatch party at the Blue Star Arts Complex on Saturday, July 22.

Satan's Angel, the Burlesque Hall of Fame Legend, performs at the Friday Night Showcase.
(Image courtesy of San Antonio Burlesque Fest.)

So with all these great events going on, and such a constant thriving scene, I tried to understand the feeling of transience I recently experienced sitting on the outdoor patio at Central Market and talking to a community organizer who works to garner support for religious institutions, nonprofit and civic groups on the City's west side. 

I have dance practice two nights out of the week that runs until 9 p.m., so Central Market is one of the few options I have for grabbing a late-night bite to eat on the way home when I know there's nothing in the refrigerator. That's OK, though, because it's a great excuse to sit outside and enjoy the warm night air and some delicious food. 

The two of us sat and talked for hours, and even though the store closes at 10 p.m., no one kicked us out for lingering after closing time. Part of our conversation was about how even though we both felt the city was pretty mobile, there really weren't a lot of places where you could just amble up the street at this hour and stop in for a drink or bite to eat, other than a bar.

Central Market is really the only place between here and downtown where you can pull up a chair and eat al fresco without feeling pressured to leave right at closing time. That's the sort of thing I think we could use more of here, along with a public transportation system that makes it easier for everyone to hop on and off to get where they're going. Make the city more open and more mobile.

As we sat noshing on our modern fare, our eyes gleaming hopefully as we discussed what our futures might bring, I had a feeling of futility that made me gasp. It was because I thought about us being there so late at night when everyone else was at home or in bed. I tilted my head back – I explained to my new friend that I'd been nursing a stiff neck lately – and stared up at the ceiling fans rotating overhead.

Maybe despite everything I'd seen and written and explored, what I really needed to do in San Antonio was to try to relax and exist, without constantly worrying about everything.

I used to believe in predestination, that we're all born with our lives decided and that it doesn't really matter which choices we make or which god we pray to. But I've changed my attitude about that. I've gotten to know people here. I've gotten lost downtown many times, but it's never changed my love of walking there.

I took the picture of the horse and carriage about a year ago when my friend, Angela, and I drove to Alamo Plaza for a game of Pokémon Go, the popular game that people can download as an app to their iOS or Android device that allows them to use GPS to find the mythical Pokémon.

Hundreds of other people were in the plaza that night hunting for them, and while we both found our share hiding behind palm trees and along street corners, the trip actually reminded me how much I love San Antonio – and am excited for the tricentennial celebration!

Thoughts on Being a White Person with a Good Tan

A suntan: Totally rad, or a dangerous fad? 

It's mid-June, and that means it's summer in San Antonio, with the temperature rising to 90 degrees or higher by noon.

To beat the heat, I've been lounging pool-side, trying to relax and cope with the everyday stresses of life in the 21st century with Donald J. Trump as president. While I'm still working on the whole relaxation thing, I've realized something: I tan really well for a white person.

I'm not sure what this means, and while it might be fashionable, I'm not sure it's good. I've always felt conflicted about lying or sitting about in the sun like some sort of useless oaf with nothing better to do, even if it's just for a few months out of the year.

It's no secret that time spent in direct ultraviolet light can contribute to the development of skin cancer, and as a natural hypochondriac, I did plenty of research to back up my constant worry about developing melanoma. Luckily, I live in a city that's filled with doctors specializing in the study of skin cancer.

Recent research conducted by scientists within the last three years at the Texas Biomedical Research Institute shows that melanoma has increased dramatically in the last decade, and while it represents a small percentage of all skin cancers, it is responsible for the majority of skin cancer-related deaths, according to the University of Texas Health Science Center. The Center also shows it's the most common cancer among 25 to 29-year-olds and that it is rising among certain subgroups, including people with darker skin.

To reduce the risk of developing skin cancer, scientists have long advocated wearing a broadband sunscreen offering a physical and chemical blocker of UVA and UVB rays.

Dermatologists stress that people who are going to be working outside sweating or swimming should apply sunscreen every hour and wear long sleeves and wide-brim hats if they're in the sun during the day. Some recommend applying sunscreen a half hour before going out in the sun and abide by a higher level of protection – an SPF 30 to SPF 50 level sunscreen.

I've taken this into account when going outside, applying sunscreen to my shoulders, chest and face, wearing a t-shirt over my bathing suit and a hat. Still, protection from the sun must be practiced religiously. A couple weeks ago, I forgot to apply sunscreen to my chest before walking along the beach in Corpus Christi, and it was enough to give me a sunburn that's now peeling.

This isn't the first time I got a sunburn, and while it didn't blister or swell like past incidents, it reminded me that what's considered stylish and fashionable often comes with a price.

On a side note, all this time spent in the sun got me thinking about you-know-who. None other than President Trump.

I don't need to post a picture of him. We've all seen how tan he is, how his skin seems to match his hair in tone. Even now, after all the scandalous news surrounding his first seven months in office, I wonder if there isn't some truth to how matching hair and skin will Make America Great Again.

While there are many conflicting theories about whether Trump's tan is real or fake, one thing is certain: We've never seen anything quite like it.

Besides, what is a real tan? Isn't every tan artificial to some degree, since it involves a conscious choice to expose one's skin to the sun? It seems that unless someone's skin contains naturally more melanin, giving them a darker skin tone whether they're in the sun or not, tans from sunlight or tanning beds are the same if the goal is a certain look or style.

The President's tan is rumored to have come out of a bottle, and while that's the definition of a real fake tan, it means that he is safe from the sun, so while we have many things to worry about, the President getting skin cancer is not one of them.

LocalSprout Hosts Mid-Week Market to Connect Chefs, Foodies to Local Growers

Last Wednesday, I visited the Mid-Week Market, San Antonio's first indoor farmers market, located at LocalSprout Food Hub at 503 Chestnut Street.

The Hub, which sells sustainably-grown produce, meats, dairy and more, opens its doors to the public from 3 to 7 p.m. every Wednesday. I was visiting for the first time.

LocalSprout is located in the core of downtown San Antonio, a neighborhood where wholesale and shipping facilities are interspersed with houses and businesses. As I pulled up to the rear entrance to park, I could hear a Roy Orbison song playing inside the two open doors. Outside and over the fence, a group of men were sitting in a circle of lawn chairs in their backyard, drinking beer and playing cards.

The first thing I saw when I walked in was a front desk where a friendly young woman greeted me. A banner advertising Alamo Beer Co.'s locally-crafted brew hung on the wall. To the left, I glimpsed the hub's refrigerator of locally-raised meats, a wall decorated in oak panels bearing the words, "Eat Local," and two glass doors leading into a chilled room of produce.

LocalSprout is an incubator spot for people to come in and figure out their product – how to make it, develop a label or brand, market it and sell it to customers and business owners. The Mid-Week Market gives chefs a place to taste local wholesale and retail foods and directly purchase them, but it's open to everyone.

ModSnap Radio provided music for Wednesday's Mid-Week Market.

The warehouse is committed to connecting eaters with as much sustainable food as possible, both by growing food hydroponically on site and by providing the space for food and beverage companies to make artisan products to distribute across the country.

I soon found Stephen Paprocki, director of the Chef Cooperatives, whom I'd talked to multiple times before about local food. Stephen is very friendly and vocal, not only about his own business, Texas Black Gold Garlic, but the entrepreneurs who've set up shop at LocalSprout to see their own visions come to fruition.

One of those entrepreneurs is San Antonio native James Mireles, a coffee roaster and brewer who founded Pulp Coffee at LocalSprout in December of 2015 after working for 20 years in the coffee industry in California and Texas.

Pulp Coffee is one of about eight coffee roasters currently operating in San Antonio. Specifically, it's a premium, private-label coffee roasting company that custom blends and roasts for other companies.

Once the owner of another private label coffee company, Mireles gave me a tour of the room at the back of the building, which sports a coffee bar, coffee roaster and bags of imported coffee beans. And friends. Lots of friends, some of them working as baristas or sipping coffee at the bar. All have one thing in common: An interest in really good coffee and tea.

Every week, the roasters open to the public for four hours at the Market, during which they've hosted visitors from chef schools to groups from the San Antonio YMCA, he said.

Mireles explained how he'd like to supply ultra-premium roast coffee to third-wave coffee shops – those stores offering specialty rather than commodity coffee.

The company currently sells to retail stores, and customers can buy Pulp Coffee on the roaster's website, he explained.

"My vision is of a shared concept where manufacturers can pull together, under one roof, in a warehouse," he said. "In the City of San Antonio, the next phase is retail, and we would like to help be the designers of the warehouse for these retail operations."

Following this business model has enabled Mireles to pay about half the price of what a typical brick and mortar space would cost to set up and roast coffee. Here, guests can visit and taste all the different blends that Pulp Coffee makes right on site.

"Theoretically, coffee is a fruit, and taste is subjective," he said. "When we bring people for tastings, we brew four distinctive, different coffees – usually including two coffees from Ethiopia. The view at Pulp means it's about you."

After our conversation, I felt the energy boost I typically enjoy from a cup of coffee and decided to peruse the market. I ran into Bryan Pape, one of the partners in Truckin' Tomato, the first vendor to move into LocalSprout and the sponsor of the Mid-Week Market.

Bryan Pape shows off some of the fresh greens grown by Johnson's Backyard Garden in Austin, one of the food purveyors working with Truckin' Tomato to supply produce to the Mid-Week Market. 

The company works with farmers and food purveyors at small to mid-sized farms across Texas to distribute sustainable and organic fruits, veggies and meats to San Antonio restaurants.

Pape explained how he defines "local" as food sourced within a 300-mile radius of Austin and San Antonio.

Truckin' Tomato's business has evolved from a portable farmers market that drove to food deserts, or areas of town lacking in fresh food, to a Community Supported Agriculture venture selling boxes of food. Last December, it became a wholesale operation, and Pape has since helped organize underground dinners at restaurants around San Antonio.

Pape said they'll give the featured restaurant a list of available products so the chef can write his or her own menu around it.

"It's a great way to showcase the chef and the rest of the staff, and I can bring in a new chef as a client," he said. "There is a huge list of foodies who want in on this. We've gotten a flood of emails. People are willing to pay $120 to attend these dinners."

Pape said they always work with Pulp Coffee and most recently featured chef John Rust from the local restaurant, Lüke, at one of the dinners.

I paused to consider this. While I really like healthy, delicious food and all the extra flavor it contains when it's grown by local farmers, I wouldn't call myself a foodie. With no current full-time job, I tend to restrict my food expenses to things I can buy at the grocery store and an occasional farmers market. I buy local food when I can, but only what I can afford.

However, Pape makes the dinner sound so delicious that I ask him to send me the information about the next one.

Next, Stephen and I talked to Mitch Hagney, the owner of LocalSprout.

Hagney has taken growing green to the next level and is responsible for the hydroponic greens grown here. He walked us through the hydroponic room, which is actually a 40-foot-long shipping container equipped with a vertical growing system that runs on solar power. It's a closed loop system where plants can be produced without any soil.

"For about three-and-a-half years, I've sold crops grown in this container," he said. "I use about 1 percent of the water that other farms use. I'm currently working on creating a good supply chain for local businesses."

Outside, we walked along the side of the building overlooking Chestnut Street. I remember driving by here a year ago and seeing a couple bushes and a green lawn, but Hagney has transformed it into a small garden filled with amaranth. Both the amaranth grain and the leaves, roots and stems can be eaten and are currently sold at the Pearl Farmers Market every Saturday morning from 9 a.m. to 1 p.m.

With all these fresh ideas to chew on, I glanced around the floor at some of the other market vendors. I hadn't had a chance to talk to the fermentation specialists at Madge's Food Co., the vendors from Deep River Specialty Foods, the experts at Southern Grit Flavor, Lil' Red's Boiled Peanuts, Cocina Heritage or the pet nutrition specialist at Pet Wants, but I also wanted to get a better understanding of the kind of space this is.

What's the big idea behind LocalSprout, I wondered? How does it fit into the modern food landscape, and more importantly, how can it change our attitudes about agriculture so that we're not only working harder to grow food, but working smarter?

One key farm practice used here is there are no pesticides and no fertilizer runoff. That's a noble goal for 2017, a year in which most food grown within the corn and soybean-based diet was raised using pesticides and herbicides.

On most large-scale farms, amaranth is known as pigweed – a plant that has developed resistance to glyphosate, the traditional herbicide treatment. While a different species of amaranth grows in farmers' fields, both types are apparently very nutritious, and it's nice to see that someone has turned what's been considered a weed into a nutritious food valued by ancient cultures around the world. Part of the charm of the urban food revival is that it takes food that people grew on this land hundreds of years ago and makes it attractive to current generations so it can thrive again.

Maybe the most exciting thing about the hydroponic farm is that it exists without soil. It's a novel idea because while many people wouldn't think of doing it, it's happening right here in downtown San Antonio.

Last January, Hagney became president of the local Food Policy Council, a volunteer organization that brings together stakeholders from different communities to examine how well the local food system is working for people's health and well-being and then to develop policy recommendations to help improve it.

He'll now work with other board members on community outreach, policy research and communication with policy makers about improving access to fresh, healthy, affordable food for all.

Hagney working in the hydroponic farm at LocalSprout, where he grows kale using solar power. 

The Food Policy Council has been working on several initiatives in San Antonio, from Urban Agriculture and a Farm to School program to a Healthy Corner Stores program.

At LocalSprout, farmers can practice what they can do best while having a community of people to share in the cost of production as well as public outreach.

"Normal farming is boom or bust," Hagney said. "We're looking for consistent demand to help support our product. At LocalSprout, vendors can buy a new space without having to pay for it all by themselves."

Pop-Up Event Gives Local SA Chefs a Way to Help Texas Ranchers

There are plenty of ways that people in San Antonio can support local food producers, but many of those ways haven't been explored until recently.

The local food scene is growing in San Antonio, including through locally-hosted pop-up dinners provided by chefs and sponsored by companies that let guests see what Texas producers have to offer.

From 11 a.m. to 4 p.m. on May 7, the Chef Cooperatives hosted "Save the Swine," a Pop-Up event held at Alamo Beer Brewery on 415 Burnet St. on the city's Eastside, right next to the historic Hays Street Bridge.

Hundreds of people turned out to see the new brewery headquarters, peruse the grounds with an Alamo beer in hand and sample dozens of unique culinary creations of the local chefs who are part of the Cooperative, all to raise money to benefit South Texas Heritage Pork.

The chefs set up at tents located throughout the grounds and prepared individual portions of their own pork recipes. For a $40 individual ticket that could be bought online, guests could amble from one food kiosk to the next, sipping their drink and trying all the different flavors.

An appetizing array of serrano peppers and flowers on the chopping board at Madge's Food Co.'s Fermented Michelada and Mockalada Stand.

Chef Stephen Paprocki, owner of Texas Black Gold Garlic and director of the Chef Cooperatives, handed out portions of Crispy Texas Drum Throats, Mushroom Escabeche and Black Garlic, his signature creation, with the help of Iverson Brownell of CanSurvive Cuisine Holdings.

Over at Tatu's Food Debauchery, patrons could enjoy Grilled Hen of the Woods on Mascarpone Toast with Sauce Veracruz and Bonito Flakes, courtesy of Chef Tatu Herrera.

Chef Jeff White of the Boiler House offered a steamy selection of Hog Trotter Tankotsu Ramen, Sous-Vide Quail Egg and Spicy Black Garlic Chili Oil.

Those are just a few of about 14 menu items, and on such a hot day, food artisan Mike Miller of Madge's Food Co. made the right move in setting up a Fermented Michelada and Mockalada Bar using Fermented Vegetables and Chicarrons. People could bring their fresh beer over to the table to have it mixed and prepared into a michelada.

A spicy michelada featuring a medium-brew Alamo Beer.

Right next door was Jenn White of Brindles Ice Cream, selling a Salted Caramel and Candied Bacon Praline dessert to help beat the heat.

Mark and Kelley Escobedo, the owners of South Texas Heritage Pork in Floresville, were there all day, laughing and talking to guests, doing interviews with local media and sharing their unique story of bringing heritage breeds of swine back onto the pasture.

Mark and Kelley Escobedo take a break from the day's events to talk to local media. 

Despite their successful business that they now have to move, the Escobedos aren't what you would consider your typical farmers. They moved to Wilson County in 2002 to start a locksmith business. When Mark changed the locks on a farmhouse located on 122 acres outside Floresville, the pair found they loved the land and house and decided to lease the entire package.

While they had no farming background or experience, they shared a loved of nature and decided to invest in a few animals, buying some chickens and hogs from a friend raising show hogs.

Everything they've learned about farming they read about online, Mark said.

They researched not only current farming practices, but the heritage breeds that were once prominent in agriculture. The heritage breeds, including the English Large Black and the Tamworth, were grown more slowly on pastures and open spaces rather than in confined feeding operations. Instead of being separated from the natural environment and placed on concrete, they were raised to coexist with the soil and nature.

Ever since they began raising their hogs, they've abided by the Spanish philosophy of farming: Slow growth leads to real flavor in swine. While the average pig in the U.S. goes from birth to slaughter in six months and most heritage breeds in this country live for nine to 10 months, the Escobedos raise their hogs for 24 to 30 months before harvest.

This practice means more time, lost hog weight and increasing costs for the same net weight of pig, but it's worth it, because flavor develops over time, Mark explains.

With this in mind, the Escobedos are basing their entire operation on the lost art of charcuterie. From the breed selection, pasture management, custom feed blend of peanuts and hay and increased comfort and happiness of the herd, everything leads to the final product – Jamón Tejano, a special cured ham that will hopefully be on the market in the next 16 months, Mark said.

All in all, the Pop-Up Event was a success, with live music from SATX Music, featuring Judivan Roots and True Indigo, DJ Ras of Shashamani Sound and DJ Gabe Garza at Southtown Vinyl and Deep South Collective. Sponsors included FreshPoint South Texas, Groomer's Seafood and Graphic Solutions Co.

This is hopefully just the beginning of what Texas farmer and ranchers mean to the local food movement in San Antonio.

Featured caption: Chefs from the Chef Cooperatives set up outside Alamo Beer Brewery on San Antonio's East side for "Save the Swine," a Pop-Up Dinner to raise money to help South Texas Heritage Pork obtain a new home.

Why I Think Public Art Is Important to San Antonio

While I want this post to be about why I think public art is vital to this city, it's not just public art that I think makes the city great. I think that what makes San Antonio great is that anyone who lives here or visits here can be happy if, for nothing else, perfect moments.

I'm not just talking about the type of perfect moment that can be experienced by stopping before the bridge along St. Mary's Street near the Southwest School of Art to view this mural:


What does this mural show? Like most art, the message is in the eye of the beholder, and the meaning is open to interpretation. We can appreciate this art without knowing about the artist's vision.

What matters is that it's here, that someone with a ton of artistic ability painted it and that we've paused to look at it.

It's a perfect moment.

And that, to me, is San Antonio.

Clearly there's a mix of cultures here, and with culture comes expectation. People say that San Antonio is a small town. Not really. The city is growing, so much so that a drive toward any part of town at rush hour has become a test of humanity. But it is a small town in another sense.

While I was born in San Antonio when Henry Cisneros was Mayor back in 1984, my family moved to the small town of Madison, Indiana, on the banks of the Ohio River in southern Indiana, population 13,000, when I was very young. Despite their difference in size, the two cities continue to grapple with the same dilemma of attracting fresh talent without sacrificing the identity and distinction of people who've lived there for generations.

While San Antonio is a big city, the parallels between here and small-town Indiana are sometimes uncanny. People notice when something new crops up here. Like many other towns, the struggles with racism, nepotism, stagnation, urbanization and decay.

There is decrepitude in San Antonio, sometimes right next door to fancy hotels and mansions.
Fountains and banana trees sit next to deteriorating buildings. The sidewalk grates emit strange smells. The City's homeless population struggles to survive along these streets, often unheard. Here is the back of one of two buildings on St. Mary's Street:

The back of a historic building located along St. Mary's Street.

I know nothing about this building, other than it's in obvious disuse. It hasn't been renovated in a while. There are probably rats and cockroaches inside.

So why does a not-so-amateur flaneur like me find it so appealing?

I read a little about these two buildings when I got home, learning that both buildings were under review by the Historic and Design Review Commission to receive a historic designation through the Office of Historic Preservation. Reading about the City of San Antonio's plans gave me a different perspective than I gained on foot.

I've lived here for four years, and I still get lost downtown. Sometimes, I'll park on one of these streets and take the River Walk southeast toward Houston Street for a cup of coffee, only to find that three hours have passed and I've walked all the way through downtown and back again.

This happened recently. I started at the San Antonio Public Library, where I noticed these interesting limestone walls with blocks of stone removed, giving pedestrians a view looking northwest toward Main Street:

Outside the San Antonio Public Library.

Several hours later, the sun had gone down, and I found myself looking at a statue of the Virgin Mary outside the Ursuline Academy:

A statue in the courtyard at the Southwest School of Art.

This statue was likely created by a San Antonio artist, and while it's located behind the convent walls out of public view, it's still public art for students, residents and tourists to admire.

It's another perfect moment, and the longer I live in San Antonio, the more I find these discrete but fulfilling sights and sounds.

I'll admit that I'll always be a tourist here. Shopkeepers along Alamo Street ask me where I'm from, not just because it's their job to do so, but because I really look lost. It's OK. I don't mind. I'll usually tell them I'm from here and that I'm just out getting some fresh air.

Still, many of them seem mystified that someone who lives in San Antonio would venture downtown to walk along Alamo Street.

The City has made an effort to turn downtown into a place for locals as well as tourists. It employs street guides along Alamo and Market streets to offer information about dining and attractions to tourists. In 2016, it began its official Downtown Street Performer Program, giving artists a public forum to express themselves without the expectation of payment. Life's hard for artists in San Antonio like anywhere else, but the street performer program is the right idea for a city that's looking to widen its interests beyond the River Walk.

I think San Antonio could also benefit from a public touring program in which it hires young people to guide visitors to places they might enjoy – something akin to the Hugman Tour, but for sites that aren't located along the River Walk. This would be a dream job for many Millennials, who are looking for a dynamic and exciting job where they don't have to sit at a desk all day, and there'd be more than enough tourists.

Sadly, many visitors to San Antonio are given the wrong impression of the city and told by residents that there's nothing to do here. That's a suicidal statement from a city whose major industry thrives on tourism, and a discouraging thing for guests to hear. We need to do more to make sure people have the resources to discover everything that makes San Antonio full of perfect moments.

Featured caption: Public street art painted on a historic building along St. Mary's Street. 

Walking Along Broadway, A Visual Journey: Part II: Miraflores

I walked to Brackenridge Park today, camera in hand, to take some photographs of a curious gathering of ruins spanning Hildebrand Avenue west of Broadway Street.

My visit was partly inspired by an eye-catching statue I'd seen out of my periphery when driving toward the US-281 exit ramp the night before, in addition to a conversation I'd heard in the outdoor dining area at Central Market recently.

Three men, who were clearly from out of town based on the part of their conversation I overheard about them returning to Philadelphia, were having dinner together, and as they sat down with their entrees and drinks, one of the men made a joke about existentialism that prompted the other two to laugh.

As I eavesdropped, I heard the older gentleman talking about art and how he thought culture was changing and art was once again going to be a province of rich patrons and families.

Which leads me to the subject of this article: Miraflores.

A small park located at the corner of East Hildebrand Avenue across from the University of the Incarnate Word, it was under the original ownership of one Dr. Aureliano Urrutia who, according to this delicious article by writer Walt Lockley of Texas Escapes, was a Mexican doctor who arrived in San Antonio as a political exile in his early forties in 1915.

Mexico was full of violent insurrections and political unrest at the time, and Urrutia ended up operating on Mexican military gangster Victoriano Huerta's eyes and becoming a close adviser and minister of his government after Presidents Porfirio Diaz and Francisco Madero had their run in office.

Interestingly, the writer points out that Urrutia was known for trying to pass reform legislation under Huerta including a streetcar law and ordering the closing of pulquerias before eventually being accused of a medical assassination without anesthetic.

It was after his arrest by General Frederick Funston (After which nearby Funston Avenue in San Antonio is named) that he was able to exile himself to the U.S. by ship from Veracruz to New Orleans and by train to San Antonio.

While the article ends inconclusively on whether he was a war criminal, an innocent exile or something else, it's clear that he owned the property in and near the park, including 15 acres, from roughly 1925 through 1950, according to the Brackenridge Park Conservancy.

The San Antonio Conservation Society has had its eye on restoring Miraflores for a long time. Work is currently underway to complete the renovation of the entry towers and gates to Miraflores as part of the Mitigation for the Broadway Drainage Project under the Broadway Corridor Phase IIIA – Miraflores Park Mitigation Enhancements. 

As I was walking along an uphill lane from the park onto a sidewalk along Hildebrand Avenue, I noticed a placard featuring photographs of Urrutia's original conception for Miraflores. He created the contemplative garden as a reminder of his native Xochimilcho, Mexico.

Eroded ceramic tiles on the north side of the entry gate towers are being documented and removed, and new ceramic tiles, made in Mexico from the same region as the original tiles, are being installed. The stone wall and metal fence along Hildebrand have also been restored. (Image and caption courtesy of Brackenridge Park Conservancy.)




The city is working with RVK Architects to develop Miraflores as a cultural landscape. It's currently housed in a fenced-in property behind the AT&T Center along Broadway Street and is inaccessible to the public, but I infer from this that because of the plan and the regulations of the Texas Historic Commission, the garden will eventually be open to the public for people to peruse, take photos and admire the curious collection of stone statues that Urrutia procured.

There's no doubt the infamous doctor was a bit eccentric. Landmarks spotted around many other parts of San Antonio – including mid-century artist Dionicio Rodriguez's "faux-bois" structures, made of concrete shaped to look like wood – dot the landscape, along with a headless angel.

I spotted the angel just after turning right onto Hildebrand and heading down the steep sidewalk, passing a sign advertising a "Larger than Life" insect exhibit at the San Antonio Zoo.

The headless angel statue is larger than life itself, and an irresistible subject for a photo. The afternoon shadows cast the angel's wings, shoulders and neck, as well as the ornamental lions abutting her sides, in a lemony light while the statue's bust remains shadowed in earthy gray. The angel's body is sculpted and elongated in the style characteristic of the Italian Renaissance – Sandro Botticelli's lithe-bodied nymphs from "Venus" and "Primavera" come to mind. I can't help but snap several pictures as I head down the sidewalk, stopping to capture some vertical shots before turning back again.

My first photo of the headless angel, taken from directly in front. 

The same subject, taken vertically and facing southwest

Photo taken to the southeast

Something strange happened as I took more pictures from different angles. The headless angel seemed to take on a different character from the composed figure I saw when facing her. Facing southeast, the body was totally cast in shadow, with only the wings touched with light. From this vantage point, the angel took on a tormented look, her body encumbered by twisted garments. It's almost like she's struggling to fly.

Once I'm able to take a surrounding picture of the entire garden and the nearby property, it gives a better idea of what Mr. Urrutia might have had in mind here: Much like a gazing pond, this private domain was clearly meant as a display of not only wealth and artistic appreciation, but something beyond the traditional artwork found around other parts of San Antonio. It could be public art, but it's on private property, giving it a kind of forbidden appeal.

Looking southeast again, the body in shadows

Studying the statue, I wonder what Urrutia's inspiration was for including it in his motley collection. What's more, the staircase leading up to the three statues is disconnected from any permanent structure and is instead floating in a sea of green grass. If the placement of these objects is intentional, it gives the odd feeling that a large building or structure that once existed in the center of them has gone missing, though there are no clues of such a building remaining.

It isn't difficult to see why the city wants to make this park accessible to the park, and with the next phase of restoration including a walkway leading from Brackenridge Park into Miraflores (there was a bridge and terrace in place, but the gate was locked, and water from the river streamed over the sidewalk), it will send the message that Miraflores is a place for everyone to see and enjoy.

View encompassing the faux bois structure, obelisks, vegetation and rear of AT&T building.

A Movie About San Antonio: What Would It Be Like?

What would it be like to make a movie in San Antonio?

I can see the plot unfolding now: Two unassuming tourists leave their hotel to go sightseeing one morning, expecting to come home with some colorful photographs and bellies full of delicious Tex-Mex food. They're in the middle of touring the Japanese Tea Garden one afternoon when there's an unexpected turn of events.

Here's another idea: A journalist who's covering the local arts scene discovers that he or she has inadvertently become part of the story.

It could happen here, right?

San Antonio is certainly not new to the movie scene. Most locals and TV fans remember Pee-Wee's Big Adventure, made in 1985, where Pee-Wee Herman treks to San Antonio to find his bicycle and ends up taking a tour of the Alamo.

Plenty of other movies have been made in San Antonio throughout the decades, and many celebrities make their home in San Antonio.

The city is also home to a variety of outlets for people to express their cinematic skills and creativity. Local non-profits such as Urban-15, which hosts the Josiah Media Festival (Open to anyone 21 years old or younger with a Call for Entries from now through June 1) and the San Antonio Film Festival give artists and filmmakers a solid platform to share and display their cinematic work with a variety of audiences from around the world. (The Call for Entries for the Film Festival's annual contest is currently open with a March 24 deadline.)

Some of San Antonio's filmmakers have been on the scene for quite some time. Erik Bosse, a writer and filmmaker who works with art and cultural centers throughout the city, is involved in a variety of collaborative works with the local theater and dance community. He creates films that explore urban environments and recently contributed video to Mujer Enterrada: Something Happened Here, a multi-media installation located at Centro Cultural Aztlan, San Antonio's 40-year-old Chicano/a arts and cultural center.

The project celebrates the organization's yearly exhibition exploring the cultural implications, both historical and contemporary, of the signing of the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo on Feb. 2, 1848. This year, the staff and curator worked to highlight the treaty's impact on women, naming this year's show Mujeres de Aztlan y El Segundo de Febrero. The project will be on display through March 15.

Bosse worked with ritualist and theater artist Laurie Dietrich, movement artist Amber Ortega-Perez and structural weaver and fiber artist Doerte Weber to complete the installation, assisting with the short movie that played on a loop.

An image from Bosse's video installation. (Image courtesy of Erik Bosse.)

Bosse has worked on other short films, too, including Magical Creatures: The Butterflies, a scene from Urban-15's recent multi-media performance piece, Lucia in the Faerie Garden, featuring dancers from the group's performance ensemble, including me.

Working on the video for this piece was a lot of fun. It began with a trip to Mission Espada with the Urban-15 production team, including artistic director Catherine Cisneros, Sound Design and Music Composition director George Cisneros, Music and Media Assistant Jonathan Anderson and Event Coordinator Marisol Cortez, and continued with an experimental flight through the park in the red and blue butterfly costumes designed by Catherine.

Erik filming me dressed as a butterfly as part of the video segment of Lucia in the Faerie Garden. 

While I've envisioned making my own movies here and along the stretches of South Texas, this was my first time participating in the making of a video in San Antonio, and for that, I'm really proud. Seeing the butterflies in motion afterward was transcendent, and feeling like a life-sized insect gives a feeling that's comparable to nothing else.

Later in the park, stretching my wings.