In One Downtown Block: Erin Sees Tulsa

Spotted in one downtown block: Those enjoying life.

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Here's the Church, Here's the Steeple: Erin Sees Tulsa

UPDATE//Valerie, you are officially the "Tulsa Steeple Know It All," guessing 9 out of 10 of the home of the steeples correctly. Apparently #9 was entirely too difficult. I would apologize, but I like the picture too much to do that. Congrats, Valerie! Wear this title proudly.

For everyone else who is wondering exactly where these steeples belong in this, the greatest city on earth, here are the answers:

1 First United Methodist
2 First Baptist
3 Boston Ave
4 Kirk
5 Vernon AME
6 Holy Family
7 Asbury
8 First Pres
9 Trinity
10 Christ the King

Cheers!

As you well know, there is so much to do and see in Tulsa that sometimes I get overwhelmed with what to share with you each Thursday.

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Keeping Momentum

UPDATE//News from local preservationists: Anyone with a finance or banking background should call Rep Ken Miller, Chairman of the House Appropriations Committee, ASAP and speak in support of the trailer bill. 405-557-7360. No emails, just phone calls.//

If you're a downtown Tulsa enthusiast like I am, you might have already seen Michael Overall's piece in the Tulsa World today. Or, Steve Lackmeyer's piece in The Oklahoman Tuesday.

From Overall's TW article:

Revitalization efforts will become impossible to finance if the state Legislature doesn't change its mind about revoking a tax credit for historic properties, Sikes warned.

"Developers are going to turn away from Oklahoma," said Sikes, whose current projects include loft apartments at the old Robinson Packer building near Main and Brady streets.

"All the progress we see right now will stop."

Developers and officials statewide agree with him, predicting that investors will pull out of revitalization projects across Tulsa, Oklahoma City, Muskogee and elsewhere.

Read the rest of the story here.

See, the folks in Oklahoma City who, thanks to us, get to hang out at our state's capitol and legislate, voted last week on a two-year moratorium on certain tax credits worth more money to developers than most of us could shake a stick at - money that often makes the difference between cranes in the sky downtown and none.

The State Rehabilitation Tax Credit was part of the deal. This credit gives a 20-percent credit for managers of projects who do what they're supposed to when they're renovating all those old buildings downtown we all love to visit and patronize once they're restaurants, clubs or housing - you know, exciting points of interest in the heart of our city.

So, if you think about it, those tax credits aren't just for the developers. They're for us, too, the people of this state. These projects increase our tax base and bring jobs to Oklahoma, which translate to an improved quality of life, both in terms of entertainment, housing and office space options (to name just a few) as well as government-supplied public services.

If you care about the continued revitalization of downtown Tulsa, you need to take a minute and do one thing: Call Rep. Chris Benge. His number is 405-557-7340.

Ask him for his support of the trailer bill to SB1267 to reinstate the historic rehab tax credit.

Then, ask your friends, colleagues, neighbors, kids, pets and even your ex-spouses do the same. If your mailperson is friendly, let him/her know, too. Mine isn't friendly at all - he's a crusty old mailman, jaded by years of service in the rain, shine, snow and sleet - but I'm still gonna tell him to get on the phone and call the folks at the Capitol.

If you have a few minutes, call Rep. Kris Steele, too. His number is 405-557-7345. Then, call Sen. Coffee at 405-521-5636. Then, call your local Representatives and Senators.

Tell these representatives that, as a voter, you care about the momentum of historic re-development downtown and that you think this tax credit trailer bill needs to be heard.

See Your City Differently: Erin Sees Tulsa

How many of you take the same, exact drive to work everyday? How many of you reach your destination and couldn't tell me what you saw because you're so accustomed to seeing it everyday?

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Saturday Morning (and Mothers' Day) on Cherry Street

Blogger: Natasha
(Photo credit: Sarah Nicodemus)

Cherry Street Farmers’ Market

This morning was the first Saturday morning in a very long time that I didn’t sleep in until some un-Godly hour that I’m too embarrassed to specify.

What made this Saturday morning any different? I was on a mission, that’s what.

Step 1: Trip over fan cord en-route to turn off alarm clock, which read 6:45 a.m.

Step 2: Sleep through shower and pretty much entire grooming process, since I don’t remember getting ready to leave the house.

Step 3: Chug a cup of coffee before setting out for Cherry Street Farmers’ Market at 15^th and Peoria.

Step 4: Arrive at CSFM. Smile and chatter non-stop at The Husband 1.0 for the entire trek from the car to the first booth in Lincoln Plaza about how awesome this adventure is going to be.

Aaron and I decided to go to the farmers’ market today because we decided to make baskets full of locally-grown veggies and local crafts for our moms for Mothers’ Day. I feel pretty safe in saying that here, since I’m pretty sure my mom has read the blog maybe once since it started, and Aaron’s mom is scared to visit and find I’ve started a porn site, since the name of the blog harkens back to a member of said movie genre.

Items we were crazy enough about to buy at CSFM, in order of purchase:

• Purple passion asparagus: Curiosity forced me to ask the vendor what was different about purple passion asparagus as opposed to plain ol’ green asparagus. The answer? “It doesn’t give you as much gas.” Two, please.
• Lavender plants: Aaron’s mom, my mom and I can’t get lavender seeds to grow, for whatever reason. I think starter plants will green their thumbs.
• Toffee and strawberry/raspberry mini cheesecakes: The salesman at this booth (sorry, but I was naughty reporter today and didn’t get the vendor’s name) was by far the most charming of the vendors with whom we did business this morning. Pretty sure he could sell ice to Eskimos. He gave us a taste of his toffee; we nearly passed out. It was true love.
• Romaine lettuce, broccoli, and some type of colorful lettuce-looking stuff that the vendor person said was a “perennial spinach:” The colorful lettuce-looking stuff is gorgeous – reds and oranges and greens, oh my!
• Lavender soap (sorry, soap lady at Pearl Farmers’ Market, but I couldn’t find you at CSFM – I’ll catch you later, I swear): We bought one that’s just lavender-scented, and two others blended with ylang-ylang and chamomile. I heart all that is lavender.

There was this really cool bluegrass band at the edge of the market that played one of my all-time favorite church songs, I’ll Fly Away. I got to sing along to that as I soaked up the sunshine, petted people’s dogs, sniffed live herb plants and talked to anyone who would talk back to me. I was one happy girl.

The Coffee House on Cherry Street

After Aaron and I rushed home to put our perishables in the fridge, we met Party Brenda and her husband Kyle for brunch at The Coffee House on Cherry Street, 1502 E. 15^th St.

Aaron ordered an everything bagel with what I think he said was chive cream cheese, and I bought a slice of something-and-basil quiche. We also bought café mochas. Brenda and Kyle had just coffee, I think.

Aaron didn’t say much about his bagel, but my quiche was pretty good. A little heavy on the onion for my taste, but the crust rivaled my grandmother’s (shh! she doesn’t need to know that). Neither the bagel nor the quiche was enough to fill us up, so Aaron sent me back for sausage rolls. They were pretty good, especially since they were the cheesy kind and the bread was pretty, but they still didn’t compare to the sausage rolls at Teri’s. Oh well.

I didn’t arrange brunch at The Coffee House on Cherry Street because I was hungry, though. I go there because the coffee is good, the people who work there don’t get freaked out that I like to talk (the owner of the CHCS is completely awesome – more about her in a second), and the atmosphere is conducive to overhearing other people’s conversations.

I want to talk about Cheri Asher, the owner of CHCS, for a second. When I was standing in line for sausage rolls, she came out from the back with two pies fresh from the oven, one on each arm. As she was putting them into the display case by the cash register, the customer in front of me was talking about how cool the coffee shop was and asked who was the owner. Before she’d finished unloading the pies, Cheri jumped right in, introduced herself and shook the guy’s hand. They talked for several minutes, since Cheri asked him if he’d been in before, what brought him to Cherry Street, and joked with him about new ways to make the CHCS grilled peanut butter and jelly sandwich (which sounds like nothing I’ve ever heard, by the way – I’m definitely going to try it next time I’m there). Not only do I see Cheri talking to or serving customers herself, even though it's obvious she employs a small fleet of workers, every stinkin’ time I go to CHCS – we all know now how Natasha feels about business owners like this - but she is nice enough to let my church group meet at her establishment every Tuesday night to talk about questions we’re too scared to ask in church (i.e., what’s with “once saved always saved,” what’s up with Jesus being the only way, why do bad things happen to good people, etc.). After all, not every business in Tulsa is open to hosting a group of college-age kids who will probably pray together amongst its customers. Cheri is, so I hope Tulsa does right by her.

What I mean when I say the atmosphere is conducive to overhearing other people’s conversations is, it’s easy to meet new people in places like CHCS where the seating is arranged less like that in a restaurant and more like that in a living space. As such, it’s easy to strike up conversations with people you don’t know. When I’m at CHCS, the space makes me feel like I’m having coffee in my house, and that all my friends have decided to come over to hang out. Not all coffee houses desire to foster communitas like that, if you know what I mean.

Kyle got to play the Jumanji board game that lives on the top shelf of a bookcase at CSCH and do the crossword in the back of this week’s Urban Tulsa; Brenda got to muse at this red collage (Study in Red, she decided to call it) on the wall; Aaron and I read the new local rags, Spektrum and Square magazines (both serve the y.p. demographic, with Spektrum focused on bringing culture at the macro level to Tulsa, and Square focused on cool places cool people go to have a beer or five and to forget college is over and that the real world has set in), all while basking in the sunlight coming in through the French doors that face 15^th St. and the snippets of conversation coming from the patrons around us that made us feel like all was well, everywhere.

Kyle said, “I could stay here all day.”
"Didn't you already say that?"
"Yeah. I guess I did."

None of us got to stay all day. However, we’re checking our schedules now for a day when we can.

Felini's, Teri's and Tulsa's Farmers' Markets: A Day in the Life Downtown

Blogger: Natasha
(Photo credit: Sarah Nicodemus)

9:06 a.m.

When life is going 90-to-nothing and you work in downtown Tulsa, at least there are places around to go for some quick but sincere human contact.

I strolled into work yesterday morning at about 9 a.m. After I ground some beans from Tulsa’s own DoubleShot Coffee Company and set them to brew (sorry, Brian, but only one other person in my office enjoys French press coffee – they don’t know what’s good for ‘em), I headed to my favorite downtown breakfast spot: Felini’s Cookies at 9 E. Fifth (I would link to some press praising Felini's cookies, but the Tulsa World likes its cease-and-desist-linking-to-us-in-any-way-even-if-its-for-a-good-reason letters way too much).

Since by 9 a.m. what I think are the best jalapeno sausage rolls in town were long gone, I decided to give their cinnamon rolls and blueberry cake muffins a try. Though I was pretty sad my usual choice with two mustard packets wasn’t available, the cinnamon rolls and muffins were…fabulous. Can I say that again? Fabulous. I’m going to use cinnamon rolls and blueberry cake muffins to break up my downtown breakfast routine now, for sure.

Felini’s is locally known for the quality and variety of its cookies. But, as TDT photo guy Chris Bouldin has said, “I would be happy if I could just sit here in my chair [at the office] and have the ladies at Felini’s come over and shove a continuous stream of sausage rolls into my mouth.” So, if you like Felini’s for lunch and a cookie, try the breakfast. It’s so good, you’ll say strange things about it.

So the morning grub at Felini’s is, like I said, fabulous. But, you wanna know why I, along with the rest of the folks in my office, go to Felini’s nearly every single morning for our wake-up food? Because the ladies there are so personable.

Almost every time I step in their little shop I hear one of the two ladies I’ve seen working there greet a customer by name. Small paper sacks with names scrawled on them line the top of the warmer where they keep those out-of-this-world sausage rolls, waiting for the customers who order the same breakfast every day to pick them up. When I come in really early, one of the ladies there asks me when the other people in my office will head over and if she needs to pack sacks for them. I always assure her they’ll be around, but even if I told her to go ahead, she wouldn’t have to ask what names to put on the bags – she already knows.

I love to deal with people like that in the morning, and they make me proud to share the name “Tulsan” with them. The way they treat me and their other customers makes me feel special in a downtown of 35,000 people. Dare I say Felini’s is “comfortably cosmopolitan?”

Sitting down at my desk with a Felini’s sausage roll – or, in the case of today, a half a cinnamon roll and half a blueberry cake muffin – and some freshly brewed DoubleShot Coffee was definitely what I would call doing Tulsa, downtown-breakfast-on-a-weekday style.

12:01 p.m.

Anyone else notice how lunch time comes suddenly when you’re hard at work? At around 11:00 a.m., even though I don’t have windows in my office, I can feel downtown start to move. Since we had a deadline yesterday at work, several of us wanted to stick close to the office for that mid-day shot in the arm. On days like that, there is nothing more soothing to the nerves than the artery-hardening cuisine of Teri’s Coney Island, 3 E. 5^th St.

I swear the Teri’s people put some addictive chemical in the chili, because our staff can’t stay out there for less than two days per week. My office pals’ favorite items include the three coney special, the Frito chili pie and the brisket sandwich. Though I normally opt for the three coney special, today I decided to give the brisket sandwich a go.

So good. So. Freaking. Good. If I had been at home, I would have needed a cigarette and a nap afterward.

The ladies who work at Teri’s (I wonder why I see more women than men working at restaurants downtown, but that’s a topic for some other blog) always let us joke around with them. They’re great. My favorite part about going to Teri’s for lunch, besides the food, is the brightly-colored picture frame behind the counter that says, Weenie Queen. Makes me laugh every time. My second favorite part about going to Teri’s is the fake wooden coney that sits on the ordering counter. Someone in line is always putting it on a friend’s tray and saying stuff like, “Order up,” or, “Are you sure that's what you ordered?” Then everyone in line gets to laugh off a little bit of stress from the morning at work.

I love laughing with people who are standing in line together. It’s a lovely sort of community, even when you’ve all come to the conclusion you’ve been waiting much longer than necessary for whatever it was you thought you needed. It’s easy to build camaraderie with people in lines. You’re forced to stand closer together than any other situation might dictate, and you’ve got to stay close together for an indeterminable period of time. Might as well be friends and make fun of stuff as you edge toward freedom.

Sincere human contact is available at downtown Tulsa restaurants like Felini’s and Teri’s. Even when you get the hankering for a mushroom charburger from Billy’s on the Square, popcorn chicken from Arby’s, or a teriyaki chicken sandwich from Subway, going to those places won’t fulfill your need to get around some people other than the ones you’re in the office with all day long.

When the day demands it be mushroom burger day, though, I’d better realize it either before 11 a.m. or after 1 p.m. Billy’s gets crazy-busy - and rightly so, since the food is fantastic. I don’t mind standing in the line that sometimes stretches along the north side of the dining room and out into the entrance vestibule to get the fantastic Billy’s mushroom burger.

What I don’t get from Billy’s, though, is the camaraderie of the line, or the conversation and looks of warm recognition from the person at the register. In fact, the ladies (again!) at the registers at Billy’s are almost always snippy and unsmiling. They just bark whatever you ordered into the microphone, swipe your card, and give you a piece of paper with your order number. Most times, especially when I have to dig in my wallet for a second to find my debit card, the register ladies have already moved on to taking the order of the next customer in line.

I’m not a person who critiques the attitudes of restaurant workers without ever having worked at a restaurant. I worked for Mazzio’s at the call center for nearly three years after school, and I worked at the Panera on Cherry Street for a couple of years during high school and college. Maybe the Mazzio’s experience doesn’t apply directly to what the ladies at Billy’s have to do everyday, but what was expected of me at Panera during the downtown lunch hour certainly does.

Wanna know what I learned during my time at the very busy corner of 15^th and Utica? Nothing puts out a customer more than attempting to take the order as fast as possible without looking up from the cash register to smile. Makes people wonder why they didn’t just go to McDonald’s, because that’s where people when they don’t care how they’re treated. They just want some food, not to mention a meal at McDonald’s would be at least $5 cheaper than one at Panera.

I guess Billy’s has been around for quite awhile now, so I can’t say the way the cash register ladies treat the customers affects their bottom line. I love how Billy’s is involved with Mayfest and probably a lot of other cool local things, but all I know is that I’d eat there a lot more often if I could have a laugh with the person who takes my order every once in a while. Shoot, we could even talk about the weather. Anything. Just do something to remind me I’m in the Midwest – Tulsa, specifically - and not in some giant city where I’m nothing but an order number.

6:10 p.m.

Anyone else been enjoying the grand openings of the local farmers’ markets during the past couple of weeks? There were several in the area last year, and this year there are at least 2 more – the one downtown on Williams Green, and the one at The Pearl District at 6^th and Peoria. Both are pretty small gigs, but both represent really great ideas. I love the idea of being able to step out of my office building and walk to a farmers’ market to pick up lunch (the Downtown Farmers’ Market opens at 10:30 and stays open until something like 1 p.m.) or something to cook for dinner (The Pearl opens at 4 and stays open until the early evening).

After work Thursday evening I went to The Pearl Farmers’ Market. Parking is no problem, and since the market is set up in Centennial Park, shoppers get to walk on nice, soft grass rather than hot, stinky blacktop. The contrast of what looks sort of like a gypsy market with the downtown high-rises peeking through the haze from just about one mile away was pretty encouraging. Finally, a place I can go to un-wind after work and not have to sit on a barstool.

Yes, I got to go to the farmers’ market after work on a Thursday. I got to browse local veggies and baked goods at 6:30 p.m. rather than a.m., and the trip didn’t mess with my weekend plans. I picked up the most wonderful hummus (made by The Palace Café on Cherry Street), and I’m going to start stalking a lady there who makes her own soap. I couldn’t buy any yesterday, but I’m hot on her trail for some lavender scented soap.

In fact, I really liked talking to the soap lady. She answered my questions and didn’t seem irritated that I gave her the third degree on how to make soap. She didn’t even seem mad that I asked all those questions and couldn’t buy anything (side note: farmers’ market vendors don’t usually take debit cards. D’oh!). She was ready to tell me anything I wanted to know about how to make soap, which made me feel really welcome. She exuded pride in her craft.

“I picked this for you,” said the little blonde girl hanging out with the soap lady as she handed me a clover flower.
“Thank you!” I slid the flower behind my ear.
“How does it look?” I asked her.
“Really pretty. Wanna know which soaps are my favorites? This one smells almost good enough to eat.”
I hope that little girl returns my heart to me someday, because I’m gonna miss it.

There was this guy Foster (heard the Palace Café guys call him that) who had scones, muffins and cheesecake. He was nice to talk to also, even though he wasn’t as nice about my not being able to buy anything. He gave me a tour of his booth full of yummy-smelling baked goodies, and his brand of flirtatiousness made me want to buy one of each he had rather than run for cover – a rare quality in a salesman. Props to Foster.

The Palace Café guys were really nice, too. They had the thing closest to what I was after to put with dinner that night, so I spent the sole $5 bill I had in my pocket on their amazing hummus. They also gave me a tour - this one complete with which products were their most popular, which were organic, and which came with their take-home, fully prepared dinners – and argued with me about the weather. Since one of the guys had the nerve to battle me on whether or not it was too humid outside, I will buy more stuff from on my next trip to that farmers’ market. I enjoy a friendly battle, and that guy made a happy memory for me that I will associate with the delicious hummus at The Palace Café. Double bonus.

The Pearl Farmers’ Market is a small-time show right now with what I would guess is 10-12 vendors, but the market manager told me musical acts are scheduled to play at the market later this summer. The market will feature not only foodstuffs and bath/beauty products, but also booths of information on sustainability and buying local.

The Pearl Farmers’ Market is open every Thursday evening from now until October from 4 to 8 p.m. Support it. It’s a great way to end a day working and eating downtown.