This is my blog and I can bitch if I want to! Ok... hmmmm... something to bitch about...
politics? Nope, this ain't a political blog besides I'm very happy after the US elections.
religion? Nope, couldn't care less.
The Drought? Nope, our water bill was 1/3 of what it was last year so hats off to water conservation!
The Ashes? Nope, the series doesn't even start for another 11 days, 17 hours, and 10 minutes. Oh, I'm for the poms to kick the butts of the crims --go Barmy Army!
$? Nope, that's covered.
Car? Nope, she's running fine.
Panther? Nope, no maulings lately --at least not of me, and that's all that matters.
Gardening? Nope, I won the looper battle and cooked the snails.
Dang! Nothing to bitch and wine --oops, whine-- about. Ok, I guess I'll just go directly to part 4 without passing go but I will collect the $200 just cus I can.
Makee Breakee Part Quatro
Last we left our intrepid little show-off ice skater he had been fitted with an air cast by a teacher at the school. Remember? I'm not gonna give you a synopsis, just scroll down to part 3, sheesh.
Mom came from work and picked up little dave from the school --no ambulance ride --But don't worry, dave had one in college-- and took the crying little kid (still no pain killers, kids were tough back then) to some sort of Bone and Fracture Clinic type place. Don't ask me for particulars about it, I was 9 years young at the time.
I do remember getting x-rayed, and waiting a bit for them to get done. Still no pain killers, but my natural endorphins and adrenaline were working juuuuuust fine. As long as the break didn't move a fraction of a millimetre then it didn't hurt --It hurt lots of times during the xray.
The doctor came back with the xrays and showed them to me and my mom. Both the radius and ulna were snapped completely through about an inch up from my wrist. The bad thing was that my muscles and tendons had tightened up (I'm one of those people with that lean, wirery type strength) so the broken part of each bone from the wrist side had been pulled towards the elbow and wedged firmly between the two bones from the elbow side.
Setting it was not going to be easy... the doctor said so... I believed him...
Shots... Ahhhh! Blessed painkillers! Salvation! BULLSHIT! I was informed I needed to have TWO (2) shots to kill the pain during setting. A. Shot. Directly. Into. The. Marrow. Of. Each. Bone. The needle seemed a tad bit long... and scary... and long... and thick... Did I mention it was very long?
I mentally braced myself, gritted my teeth, and thought it couldn't hurt as much as breaking the bones did. As the first needle slid into my arm I turned away. As the needle pierced the marrow of the first bone I felt PAIN much worse than the breaking of the bones. Ummmm.... OUCH. Oddly enough, the pain went away after a second or two.
I glanced over as the doctor was preparing the second shot... Another long, scary needle... I turned away... took several deep breaths... mentally prepared my little brain for the utter anguish of the needle stabbing into the marrow of the second bone... I told the doctor, "Ok, I'm ready for the second one."
"Oh, too late, I already did it."
Woo-hoo! I was so numbed up from the first one that I didn't even know the second had been done! COOL! One happy little kid, I tells ya.
Now comes the setting. I remember it cus I was there! Actually, since every single iota of any sensation that even thought of resembling pain had been removed from my arm, I was quite fine watching the procedure.
A nurse had to help. My upper arm was flat on the table with my totally numbed forearm sticking straight up (hmmmm, my wrist and arm sure do look funny all broken like that...). The nurse held my humorous (upper arm) and elbow joint with all her weight and held onto the part of my forearm closest to the elbow, while the doctor pulled up on my hand and wrist with all his strength to un-wedge the broken tips of the bones from each other. I couldn't feel a damn thing! Hmm, I wonder what that odd grating sound is... thought little dave as his wrist and hand moved moved up. Hmm, I wonder what that odd grinding sound is... thought little dave as the doctor lined up the broken bits of bone.
It took the doctor and nurse over five minutes. They were both out of breath, sweating heavily, and trying to get the circulation back in their hands afterwards. I later learned it was one of the hardest sets he's ever done. Hey, I'm famous for something!
I ended up with a cast that went almost to my shoulder and totally encased my hand except for the fingers. He said normally he wouldn't put on a cast like this for this type of break except that mine was pretty severe and he wanted it totally immobilised.
I got EVERYONE in class and most of the hockey team to sign the cast, little kids love signing someone else's cast.
A week later I had Doug (older brother) help me lace up my skates good and tight so we could go skating, cast and all --my parents still don't know we did that so don't tell em!
Food time!
Snails with Rosemary and Wine
Note: this is NOT a French recipe for an escargot dish. If you've had escargot in the states, I can guarantee that it's not this. This I got from the island of Crete.
What you need:
1 kg snails
½ cup red wine
½ cup flour
½ cup olive oil
salt, pepper, rosemary
What you do:
First, you need to prepare the snails:
Put the snails in a big bowl filled with water and leave them there until their heads come out (30 to 45 minutes) and clean them thoroughly. Throw away all the snails whose heads have not come out. Put the snails in a saucepan half-full with water and when the water comes to the boil, add 3 tbsp. salt and half a glass of vinegar and boil them for 10 minutes. Then throw the water and wash them very well with cold water.
You can then use the snails for many different recipes.
Here's what you do for the rosemary and wine recipe:
Salt the snails, flour them and cook them in hot oil for 3 minutes, with their openings facing the pan. Add the rosemary, salt and pepper, stir them and 2 minutes then add the wine. Let them come to the boil and they are ready to serve. Another option is to prepare a batter, using flour, salt, pepper, oregano and garlic (optional), fill the snails’ openings with this mixture and fry them in the oil and rosemary.
Enjoy!
Friday, November 10, 2006
Thursday, November 09, 2006
Making of a Breaking part 3
Greetings again fellow passengers on the good ole Earth.
Gosh, what's been happening here in my little corner of Oz since yesterday... Not much actually. Oh, wait. I got a telephone call that I would like to share with you...
*ring* *ring* *ring* ring*
me: I guess I'll answer it this time...
me: Hello?
telephone marketer (TM): Hi, is this the so and so household?
me: Well, since there are several of us with that name who live here, then I guess so. May I ask who's calling (dripping some serious sarcasm)?
TM: I'm so and so with foxtel digital (cable tv company), and I talked to you at your door a few weeks ago.
me: No thank you. Goodbye. *click*
Here's what I really wanted to say:
*ring* *ring* *ring* ring*
me: I guess I'll answer it this time...
me: Hello?
telephone marketer (TM): Hi, is this the so and so household?
me: If you don't know who you are calling then you are either trying to sell me something I don't want or trying to take money that I don't have (Note: I've actually said this before to one of these persons).
TM: I'm so and so with foxtel digital (cable tv company), and I talked to you at your door a few weeks ago.
me: No you did not you lying b*stard. I have a sign that specifically says No salesfolk, No religious callers, No charity collectors. And I know for a fact that no one in this household talked to you. Do not ever call here again. *click*
Now, that may sound cold and callous, but we give to many different charities and we buy lots of stuff from local merchants. The sign is up on the door cus otherwise you'd be answering the door ten times a day! I'm serious. The door to door canvassing is a plague down here and the telephone marketing is even worse.
There's a list you can get on nationally of a "do not call with marketing bullshit ever" and I'm going to have our phone number put on it.
I really am nice... HONESTLY!
Alright, I know you are all waiting for part 3 so here ya go:
Makee Breakee part troi (3)
So by now you've figured out that I liked to skate, would skate anywhere, didn't mind the bumps and bruises and sprains that come along with being a kid, and generally had a good time (note, nothing has changed...)
Scene: After school. Older kids (the 5th and 6th graders) were on the hockey rink practicing (pads, helmets and everything) and my older brother was there too since he wanted to be on the hockey team.
Dave is skating on the frozen field next to the hockey rink --this was sooo cool. Once it got cold enough, the school would plow the snow off one of the play grounds and make a huge circular rink by running the hoses on the frozen ground for a day or so. A couple of days later: poof! Instant second skating rink. 3 foot high snow berms and good ice.
So I'm skating around there, it's dark (hey, it's Alaska in the winter time) and there's only a two other skaters there. They both happened to be cute girls. Little dave was way too shy to talk to them, but he sure did try to show off! Remember, I was pretty good. After a while of skating around doing a few lame tricks, I thought of a great idea (I'd have done this whether they were there or not!): I'll get up a bunch of speed and jump over the snowy, icy berm around the pond and land in the soft snow!
I know, you are jealous of the cool ideas little dave gets (they get better as he gets older, stay tuned).
First try: cleared the berm, landed and rolled in the soft snow and came up giggling with a big ole grin on my face! FUN! Gonna do it again.
After about ten times I found I couldn't get as far into the deep snow outside the icy berm as I would've liked. Sooooo... using my skate blades I carefully scraped out a tiny ramp at the base of the icy snow berm.
"I'll clear ten feet for sure with this!" thought little dave.
Skate around to get lots and lots and lots of speed... hit the little ramp at 1000 mph... my feet went straight forward out from under me (picture charlie brown trying to kick the football pulled away by lucy) and I land flat on my back on the hard, knobby, icy snow berm. Actually, my back landed second cus I must have tried to put my left arm out to ease the landing... My forearm hit first about two inches from my wrist and it landed flat onto an big ole hard icy knob.
Ahhhhh, it hurt. A. Lot.
Ok, calm down... you can skate home (1/4 mile) and mom will take care of it cus it's just a sprained wrist.
Little dave attempts to skate across the rink to his backpack, stops after 10 feet, sits down on the ice and SCREAMS in utter agony.
The two girls still didn't come over, but Doug (older brother) and the rest of the hockey team on the other rink did and they called for the coach. Coach looks at my arm, goes inside, and comes out with the teacher most experienced in first aid (he also happened to by my teacher). Mr. Randazzo carefully fits an inflatable splint on the arm to immobilize is for the trip to the hospital. At least, that's what I think happened since my memory is a bit hazy about the specifics --it HURT. It was the worst pain I had ever experienced in my 9 years of living (I've had worse since then, stay tuned).
Coming up next: part 4 --the hospital (not for the first time either, as you know).
Food time!
Yeah, yeah, it's another mushroom soup recipe. But hey, I like shrooms and I like soup. If you don't wanna read it then you don't have to.
shroom soup
What you need:
600 g fresh shrooms --rough chopped
fresh basil
fresh oregano
fresh tarragon
salt
pepper
1/2 cup olive oil
3 tbsp lime juice
2 pinches ginger powder
2 teaspoon dave's olivemite
1 tsp mashed/prepared ginger paste*
1 small onion --minced
3 cups milk
*this, to me, has a high "duh" factor: Peel a few inches of ginger root, finely chop it, then put it and a bit of white wine vinegar and olive oil into a food processor. Process till smooth and put it in a jar. Then (this is the hard part) put the jar into your fridge till you want to use it. Otherwise, you can go to a grocery store and purchase the processed oil, preservative laden, stuff.
What you do:
This is pretty darned easy: chuck all the ingredients EXCEPT the milk into a large saucepan and simmer on low temp till the shrooms are "cooked down" --about 15 mins on low temp. Stir when you need to.
Let it cool, then put it in a blender and add the milk. Then, ah, press the button marked "blend". Pour the mix back into the pan and heat on low heat, stirring every once in a while so the bottom doesn't burn.
It's very yummy!
Gosh, what's been happening here in my little corner of Oz since yesterday... Not much actually. Oh, wait. I got a telephone call that I would like to share with you...
*ring* *ring* *ring* ring*
me: I guess I'll answer it this time...
me: Hello?
telephone marketer (TM): Hi, is this the so and so household?
me: Well, since there are several of us with that name who live here, then I guess so. May I ask who's calling (dripping some serious sarcasm)?
TM: I'm so and so with foxtel digital (cable tv company), and I talked to you at your door a few weeks ago.
me: No thank you. Goodbye. *click*
Here's what I really wanted to say:
*ring* *ring* *ring* ring*
me: I guess I'll answer it this time...
me: Hello?
telephone marketer (TM): Hi, is this the so and so household?
me: If you don't know who you are calling then you are either trying to sell me something I don't want or trying to take money that I don't have (Note: I've actually said this before to one of these persons).
TM: I'm so and so with foxtel digital (cable tv company), and I talked to you at your door a few weeks ago.
me: No you did not you lying b*stard. I have a sign that specifically says No salesfolk, No religious callers, No charity collectors. And I know for a fact that no one in this household talked to you. Do not ever call here again. *click*
Now, that may sound cold and callous, but we give to many different charities and we buy lots of stuff from local merchants. The sign is up on the door cus otherwise you'd be answering the door ten times a day! I'm serious. The door to door canvassing is a plague down here and the telephone marketing is even worse.
There's a list you can get on nationally of a "do not call with marketing bullshit ever" and I'm going to have our phone number put on it.
I really am nice... HONESTLY!
Alright, I know you are all waiting for part 3 so here ya go:
Makee Breakee part troi (3)
So by now you've figured out that I liked to skate, would skate anywhere, didn't mind the bumps and bruises and sprains that come along with being a kid, and generally had a good time (note, nothing has changed...)
Scene: After school. Older kids (the 5th and 6th graders) were on the hockey rink practicing (pads, helmets and everything) and my older brother was there too since he wanted to be on the hockey team.
Dave is skating on the frozen field next to the hockey rink --this was sooo cool. Once it got cold enough, the school would plow the snow off one of the play grounds and make a huge circular rink by running the hoses on the frozen ground for a day or so. A couple of days later: poof! Instant second skating rink. 3 foot high snow berms and good ice.
So I'm skating around there, it's dark (hey, it's Alaska in the winter time) and there's only a two other skaters there. They both happened to be cute girls. Little dave was way too shy to talk to them, but he sure did try to show off! Remember, I was pretty good. After a while of skating around doing a few lame tricks, I thought of a great idea (I'd have done this whether they were there or not!): I'll get up a bunch of speed and jump over the snowy, icy berm around the pond and land in the soft snow!
I know, you are jealous of the cool ideas little dave gets (they get better as he gets older, stay tuned).
First try: cleared the berm, landed and rolled in the soft snow and came up giggling with a big ole grin on my face! FUN! Gonna do it again.
After about ten times I found I couldn't get as far into the deep snow outside the icy berm as I would've liked. Sooooo... using my skate blades I carefully scraped out a tiny ramp at the base of the icy snow berm.
"I'll clear ten feet for sure with this!" thought little dave.
Skate around to get lots and lots and lots of speed... hit the little ramp at 1000 mph... my feet went straight forward out from under me (picture charlie brown trying to kick the football pulled away by lucy) and I land flat on my back on the hard, knobby, icy snow berm. Actually, my back landed second cus I must have tried to put my left arm out to ease the landing... My forearm hit first about two inches from my wrist and it landed flat onto an big ole hard icy knob.
Ahhhhh, it hurt. A. Lot.
Ok, calm down... you can skate home (1/4 mile) and mom will take care of it cus it's just a sprained wrist.
Little dave attempts to skate across the rink to his backpack, stops after 10 feet, sits down on the ice and SCREAMS in utter agony.
The two girls still didn't come over, but Doug (older brother) and the rest of the hockey team on the other rink did and they called for the coach. Coach looks at my arm, goes inside, and comes out with the teacher most experienced in first aid (he also happened to by my teacher). Mr. Randazzo carefully fits an inflatable splint on the arm to immobilize is for the trip to the hospital. At least, that's what I think happened since my memory is a bit hazy about the specifics --it HURT. It was the worst pain I had ever experienced in my 9 years of living (I've had worse since then, stay tuned).
Coming up next: part 4 --the hospital (not for the first time either, as you know).
Food time!
Yeah, yeah, it's another mushroom soup recipe. But hey, I like shrooms and I like soup. If you don't wanna read it then you don't have to.
shroom soup
What you need:
600 g fresh shrooms --rough chopped
fresh basil
fresh oregano
fresh tarragon
salt
pepper
1/2 cup olive oil
3 tbsp lime juice
2 pinches ginger powder
2 teaspoon dave's olivemite
1 tsp mashed/prepared ginger paste*
1 small onion --minced
3 cups milk
*this, to me, has a high "duh" factor: Peel a few inches of ginger root, finely chop it, then put it and a bit of white wine vinegar and olive oil into a food processor. Process till smooth and put it in a jar. Then (this is the hard part) put the jar into your fridge till you want to use it. Otherwise, you can go to a grocery store and purchase the processed oil, preservative laden, stuff.
What you do:
This is pretty darned easy: chuck all the ingredients EXCEPT the milk into a large saucepan and simmer on low temp till the shrooms are "cooked down" --about 15 mins on low temp. Stir when you need to.
Let it cool, then put it in a blender and add the milk. Then, ah, press the button marked "blend". Pour the mix back into the pan and heat on low heat, stirring every once in a while so the bottom doesn't burn.
It's very yummy!
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Making of a Breaking Part 2 of ?
I figure that my many many readers in the US may need a wee little break of fun reading stuff after the voting and lead up to the tuesday elections --as I'm typing this I have no idea what's going on, just hoping that the good guys and gals win.
That's it for political crap! On with the show --cus the show must go on!
I'll give you a weather report here down under --in the driest state in the driest continent-- blue skies, not a cloud in sight. Bit of a southeast breeze, not particularly warm at 23 C (74 F), but I'm still sitting here in shorts and a tank top (singlet for those of you in the UK or Oz).
The black panther beast from hell is out on patrol... I can tell that from the screams emanating from the elementary school playground next to us. I just hope he doesn't bring any wounded ones back again --it's a bummer caring for the sick and injured ones he finds... Oh, I jest! The little kids love playing with (running from) him... really, they do!
How's about I get back to my story? Would you like that? Of course you would... --all due respect to Mr Rogers--
Makee Breakee part Zwei (dos) (2) (@#&) (two)
Back to ice skating as a youngster. If you missed part one, just scroll down to the previous post. It'd be kinda lame linking to it. You've already found that I liked to ice skate (figure skates), was good at it, had quick reflexes, had no fear, and was not very bright --gosh, some things never change!
Where did we ice skate? Heck, more like where didn't we ice skate would be a better question. I'd skate to school on the neighborhood roads (hard hard packed snow, very close to ice).
We'd go down to the canal by the lake behind the house with snow shovels and clear off a section of it to skate on. We were dedicated! A 9 and 10 year old skating through the neighborhood while carrying snow shovels to clear off a big chunk of the canal just so we could skate! This was when it had frozen over enough to be solid, but the school hadn't flooded the rinks yet.
Did you know that during the Fur Rondy events in Anchortown they used to have the car rally race on the ice at Sand Lake? It was SO COOL!!!! Imagine this: cold, ice, winter, frozen lake, bulldozers plowing out a rally race track on the lake behind our house. PERFECT for skating on, especially since the race cars really really really polished the ice!
We'd get together and have a sorta roller derby late at night on the course on our ice skates --loads of fun, especially since there were huge snow berms everywhere so if you went down you just slid into the snow barriers. Ah, yes, FUN times!
They stopped running the race on the lake yonks ago... MAJOR bummer. But we had fun and didn't kill ourselves (if I killed myself then you wouldn't be reading this).
We'd also line up our hockey sticks (yes, I had a hockey stick and figure skates... it worked!) about a yard apart (in parallel, not series) and see how many we could clear. Great fun, except when you landed on a stick, then you went down rather fastly.
Another way to fall fastly was to skate through the roads after they'd been graveled... if you weren't careful it could really hurt.
Between jumping the hockey sticks and skating on the graveled roads I acquired quite the list of injuries, none of them major though. I'd jam a wrist every now and then and then carefully skate home and mom (rest her soul) would have a look at it, give me a tut-tut, put an ace bandage on and slap an ice pack on it. Mom was the cure-all for jammed/sprained wrists.
But what happens when mom can't fix it and how did little dave hurt himself so bad that mom couldn't fix it? Stay tuned for part 3!
And now, more Food --you may have guessed that food is one of my favorite (favourite) things--
Eggplant Parmesan
This is a great one for you vegetabletarians, heck I love it too and I'm a carnivore. The big canine and incisor teeth towards the front of my mouth were (in my opinion) only made for one thing: the ripping of meat off of bone. But I do love me some veggies too!
What you need:
1 eggplant
1 egg
1/4 cup milk
1 cup breadcrumbs
pinch of sea salt
a few grinds of fresh peppercorns
1 litre tomato(e) sauce (for those of you outside the US, you'd want what's called "tomatoe puree" --if you use "tomatoe sauce" then you'd end up using what the folks in the US call ketchup (catsup) BLARF) --ain't internationallity GREAT!
a handful fresh oregano, finely chopped
a handful fresh basil, finely chopped
a bit of fresh thyme
fresh grated mozzerella cheese
fresh grated parmesan cheese (for those of you in the US: NOT the CRAP that comes in a green canister made by crap (kraft))
olive oil for frying
What you do:
Slice the eggplant into 1 cm thick slabs (around a half inch), then cut the skin off each slab (you'll figure out how to do that). Beat the egg and milk together. Dip each piece of eggplant into the egg/milk mix, then dredge through the breadcrumbs. You'll end up with a plateful of raw, breaded eggplant slices (10-15 depending on the size of the eggplant).
Heat the olive to a very hot temp in a wok (a half inch of olive oil in the wok should be fine) and deep fry each piece. I usually do 3 or 4 at a time. It only takes a minute or two for each side so don't overcook them. Set them aside to drain on paper towels.
While they are drying, combine the tomato(e) puree with sea salt, ground pepper, oregano, basil and thyme.
In a large baking dish, place 3 or 4 of the fried eggplant slabs in the bottom. Pour in some of the seasoned tomato(e) puree, then sprinkle with the shredded mozzerella and shredded parmesan. That's one layer complete! Layer up till you are out of eggplant (you should get at least 3 good layers) and then finish with more mozza and parm.
Cover (very very important to cover this) and bake for 45-60 mins (2700-3600 secs) at around 195 C (385 F).
Let it cool for a few mins before serving, otherwise the cheese could blister the top of your mouth.
Serve with fresh, homemade garlic bread and a fresh salad w/vinegrette dressing.
That's it for political crap! On with the show --cus the show must go on!
I'll give you a weather report here down under --in the driest state in the driest continent-- blue skies, not a cloud in sight. Bit of a southeast breeze, not particularly warm at 23 C (74 F), but I'm still sitting here in shorts and a tank top (singlet for those of you in the UK or Oz).
The black panther beast from hell is out on patrol... I can tell that from the screams emanating from the elementary school playground next to us. I just hope he doesn't bring any wounded ones back again --it's a bummer caring for the sick and injured ones he finds... Oh, I jest! The little kids love playing with (running from) him... really, they do!
How's about I get back to my story? Would you like that? Of course you would... --all due respect to Mr Rogers--
Makee Breakee part Zwei (dos) (2) (@#&) (two)
Back to ice skating as a youngster. If you missed part one, just scroll down to the previous post. It'd be kinda lame linking to it. You've already found that I liked to ice skate (figure skates), was good at it, had quick reflexes, had no fear, and was not very bright --gosh, some things never change!
Where did we ice skate? Heck, more like where didn't we ice skate would be a better question. I'd skate to school on the neighborhood roads (hard hard packed snow, very close to ice).
We'd go down to the canal by the lake behind the house with snow shovels and clear off a section of it to skate on. We were dedicated! A 9 and 10 year old skating through the neighborhood while carrying snow shovels to clear off a big chunk of the canal just so we could skate! This was when it had frozen over enough to be solid, but the school hadn't flooded the rinks yet.
Did you know that during the Fur Rondy events in Anchortown they used to have the car rally race on the ice at Sand Lake? It was SO COOL!!!! Imagine this: cold, ice, winter, frozen lake, bulldozers plowing out a rally race track on the lake behind our house. PERFECT for skating on, especially since the race cars really really really polished the ice!
We'd get together and have a sorta roller derby late at night on the course on our ice skates --loads of fun, especially since there were huge snow berms everywhere so if you went down you just slid into the snow barriers. Ah, yes, FUN times!
They stopped running the race on the lake yonks ago... MAJOR bummer. But we had fun and didn't kill ourselves (if I killed myself then you wouldn't be reading this).
We'd also line up our hockey sticks (yes, I had a hockey stick and figure skates... it worked!) about a yard apart (in parallel, not series) and see how many we could clear. Great fun, except when you landed on a stick, then you went down rather fastly.
Another way to fall fastly was to skate through the roads after they'd been graveled... if you weren't careful it could really hurt.
Between jumping the hockey sticks and skating on the graveled roads I acquired quite the list of injuries, none of them major though. I'd jam a wrist every now and then and then carefully skate home and mom (rest her soul) would have a look at it, give me a tut-tut, put an ace bandage on and slap an ice pack on it. Mom was the cure-all for jammed/sprained wrists.
But what happens when mom can't fix it and how did little dave hurt himself so bad that mom couldn't fix it? Stay tuned for part 3!
And now, more Food --you may have guessed that food is one of my favorite (favourite) things--
Eggplant Parmesan
This is a great one for you vegetabletarians, heck I love it too and I'm a carnivore. The big canine and incisor teeth towards the front of my mouth were (in my opinion) only made for one thing: the ripping of meat off of bone. But I do love me some veggies too!
What you need:
1 eggplant
1 egg
1/4 cup milk
1 cup breadcrumbs
pinch of sea salt
a few grinds of fresh peppercorns
1 litre tomato(e) sauce (for those of you outside the US, you'd want what's called "tomatoe puree" --if you use "tomatoe sauce" then you'd end up using what the folks in the US call ketchup (catsup) BLARF) --ain't internationallity GREAT!
a handful fresh oregano, finely chopped
a handful fresh basil, finely chopped
a bit of fresh thyme
fresh grated mozzerella cheese
fresh grated parmesan cheese (for those of you in the US: NOT the CRAP that comes in a green canister made by crap (kraft))
olive oil for frying
What you do:
Slice the eggplant into 1 cm thick slabs (around a half inch), then cut the skin off each slab (you'll figure out how to do that). Beat the egg and milk together. Dip each piece of eggplant into the egg/milk mix, then dredge through the breadcrumbs. You'll end up with a plateful of raw, breaded eggplant slices (10-15 depending on the size of the eggplant).
Heat the olive to a very hot temp in a wok (a half inch of olive oil in the wok should be fine) and deep fry each piece. I usually do 3 or 4 at a time. It only takes a minute or two for each side so don't overcook them. Set them aside to drain on paper towels.
While they are drying, combine the tomato(e) puree with sea salt, ground pepper, oregano, basil and thyme.
In a large baking dish, place 3 or 4 of the fried eggplant slabs in the bottom. Pour in some of the seasoned tomato(e) puree, then sprinkle with the shredded mozzerella and shredded parmesan. That's one layer complete! Layer up till you are out of eggplant (you should get at least 3 good layers) and then finish with more mozza and parm.
Cover (very very important to cover this) and bake for 45-60 mins (2700-3600 secs) at around 195 C (385 F).
Let it cool for a few mins before serving, otherwise the cheese could blister the top of your mouth.
Serve with fresh, homemade garlic bread and a fresh salad w/vinegrette dressing.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Making of a Breaking Part 1 of ?
Dangnabbit! I thought summer was supposed to be here. Where's the 100 F temps? Where's the roasting hot sand at the beach? Where's the cool, refreshing dip in the ocean? And when the hell is this drought gonna end?
Those questions were all asked by me to myself as I sit here in shorts and bare feet in 72 F temps wondering whether I should chop some wood for the furnace to be on tonight... Oh I am turning into such a wuss! Do you know I used to take the trash out barefoot at -40? I used to wear a tshirt below freezing... But now? I think my blood has thinned out a wee bit since I've been in a land of endless summer (I really don't think there's a winter down here, but most aussies will disagree with me).
But, then again, maybe I'm not such a wuss. I wore shorts all "winter" long down here when everyone else was in jackets and scarves. These folk would have a BIT of a hard time if they had to go through a real winter. But hey, that's why they're down here! Duh, it makes sense!
Even though it's cooled off for a day or two, and it's overcast, there still ain't no rain! Damn! The barking job is coming along nicely, but I'm getting tired of doing the bucket brigade thing for the garden. We really do need it to rain for about a month straight, then the reservoirs might get up of 50% full --yeah, right... that won't happen anytime soon.
For those of you going into winter up north (and for many of you your winter is already there), I'll make sure I send some of our summer sun your way if you send some rain and snow our way? Deal? Ok, itzza deal! And whena Portagee maka deala, then itzza deala (from The World In His Arms, 1952, very very good movie).
Since I'm starting to babble, let's get straight to story time! This'll be a multi-parter since I'm sure many of you read at work and can't take the time to read a long post (even for me, it's long).
Here we go:
Part 1 of ?
As many of you may (or may not) know, I grew up and lived in Alaska for a long time. I was there before the pipeline was thought of. Yes, I was a true sourdough! Now, I'm just an ole sourpuss. So back off and let me grumble... Ok, I'm done grumbling now.
Back to the story, this is from my elementary (my dear watson) school days and it spans a few years --see, I told you it'd be long. Actually, it's some specific highlights over a few years all tied together with a common theme: Ice Skating!
Ah yes, ice skating... what little kid in Alaska didn't ice skate? None that I knew, that's for darned sure. And what little skater in Alaska didn't own a pair of hockey skates? None that I knew of, that's for darned sure... Oh WAIT, that was me! I had figure skates --wee-hoo! I was pretty damn good too. So good that my mom (rest her soul) would buy me custom fitted skates every two years. And boy did I use those things! I could out skate most of the hockey guys (and gals). Fun times...
I remember signing up for broomball during recess. When the teach saw that I had figure skates he wouldn't let me cus he thought the toe claws would ruin the ice --dumb ignorant bastard! But whatever, I wanted to play so I was goalie. I was very very good.
Have any of you heard of broomball? No, let me fill you in: The "brush" part of the "broom" is actually very stiff, about as solid as wood (it's close to using a hockey stick). The ball is about softball size, and it's an inflated, thick, hard, rubber ball which gets very very very stiff and hard when it's cold.
Did I mention no pads, helmets, or anything else like that?
Do you think that in todays litigatious society and PC and play nice in the schoolyard that this sport is still played? Only in inbred communities would be my guess.
IT WAS FUN! I could outskate most everyone else, but there I was in goal. Not a net like a hockey goal, just some painted lines on the board around the main rink.
Hmmmm, jammed fingers, black eyes, fat lips, bruised knees and elbows... Yup: all part of growing up on the ice! Wee-hoo. I had fun. We even got to play a couple of games against other schools (third graders were all of us) at one of the big rinks in town. That was very cool.
I was quick and had very good reflexes, --I did manage to stop a few with my face, it's a skill I tell ya-- so I did make a good goalie. Damn I shoulda been a hockey goalie... Course, if I did I wouldn't still have my good looks but I'd be richer.
Ok, nuff about broomball... I didn't break any bones or tear any ligaments playing, so the fat lips, jammed fingers, and bruises everywhere don't count.
See, part one is more of "setting the stage" for things to come... The four main points you should have got out of part one is that little dave could skate, he could skate very well, he really enjoyed ice skating, and he had no fear.
Part 2 coming soon to a blog near you...
Now for the Food
Shiitake and Seaweed soup
This isn't spicy at all, and makes for a nice, soothing cup of soup with lunch. If you want it hotter, there are several ways to do that*.
What you need:
20 gms dried shiitake mushrooms
1 sheet dried yaki nori (seaweed)
1 litre (4 cups) of H2O (water)
1 glass sherry
1 tsp ginger powder
1 tsp chilli (chili) powder
1 tsp light miso paste
What you do:
Soak the shiitake shrooms in the water and sherry for about an hour. After they are soft, you can shop them into whatever size pieces you'd like.
Bring the water and sherry that the shrooms were soaking in to a boil, put the chopped shrooms back in, along with everything else. Note: for the seaweed sheet, tear it up into small pieces over a DRY cutting board, NOT over the steaming broth.
When it's hot (just boils), it's ready (a few mins max).
There's lots of stuff you can add for various flavours (flavors), but this is a good starting point.
*ways to make it hotter:
1) add more chilli powder (duh)
2) add chili flakes
3) soak some dried thai chillis in with the shrooms and boil them up in the broth too --this'll be pretty hot.
If you've made it too hot for your guests, then put a dollop of fresh cream in each serve of soup.
This is a good base to experiment with different spices and herbs, so get creative kiddies.
Those questions were all asked by me to myself as I sit here in shorts and bare feet in 72 F temps wondering whether I should chop some wood for the furnace to be on tonight... Oh I am turning into such a wuss! Do you know I used to take the trash out barefoot at -40? I used to wear a tshirt below freezing... But now? I think my blood has thinned out a wee bit since I've been in a land of endless summer (I really don't think there's a winter down here, but most aussies will disagree with me).
But, then again, maybe I'm not such a wuss. I wore shorts all "winter" long down here when everyone else was in jackets and scarves. These folk would have a BIT of a hard time if they had to go through a real winter. But hey, that's why they're down here! Duh, it makes sense!
Even though it's cooled off for a day or two, and it's overcast, there still ain't no rain! Damn! The barking job is coming along nicely, but I'm getting tired of doing the bucket brigade thing for the garden. We really do need it to rain for about a month straight, then the reservoirs might get up of 50% full --yeah, right... that won't happen anytime soon.
For those of you going into winter up north (and for many of you your winter is already there), I'll make sure I send some of our summer sun your way if you send some rain and snow our way? Deal? Ok, itzza deal! And whena Portagee maka deala, then itzza deala (from The World In His Arms, 1952, very very good movie).
Since I'm starting to babble, let's get straight to story time! This'll be a multi-parter since I'm sure many of you read at work and can't take the time to read a long post (even for me, it's long).
Here we go:
Part 1 of ?
As many of you may (or may not) know, I grew up and lived in Alaska for a long time. I was there before the pipeline was thought of. Yes, I was a true sourdough! Now, I'm just an ole sourpuss. So back off and let me grumble... Ok, I'm done grumbling now.
Back to the story, this is from my elementary (my dear watson) school days and it spans a few years --see, I told you it'd be long. Actually, it's some specific highlights over a few years all tied together with a common theme: Ice Skating!
Ah yes, ice skating... what little kid in Alaska didn't ice skate? None that I knew, that's for darned sure. And what little skater in Alaska didn't own a pair of hockey skates? None that I knew of, that's for darned sure... Oh WAIT, that was me! I had figure skates --wee-hoo! I was pretty damn good too. So good that my mom (rest her soul) would buy me custom fitted skates every two years. And boy did I use those things! I could out skate most of the hockey guys (and gals). Fun times...
I remember signing up for broomball during recess. When the teach saw that I had figure skates he wouldn't let me cus he thought the toe claws would ruin the ice --dumb ignorant bastard! But whatever, I wanted to play so I was goalie. I was very very good.
Have any of you heard of broomball? No, let me fill you in: The "brush" part of the "broom" is actually very stiff, about as solid as wood (it's close to using a hockey stick). The ball is about softball size, and it's an inflated, thick, hard, rubber ball which gets very very very stiff and hard when it's cold.
Did I mention no pads, helmets, or anything else like that?
Do you think that in todays litigatious society and PC and play nice in the schoolyard that this sport is still played? Only in inbred communities would be my guess.
IT WAS FUN! I could outskate most everyone else, but there I was in goal. Not a net like a hockey goal, just some painted lines on the board around the main rink.
Hmmmm, jammed fingers, black eyes, fat lips, bruised knees and elbows... Yup: all part of growing up on the ice! Wee-hoo. I had fun. We even got to play a couple of games against other schools (third graders were all of us) at one of the big rinks in town. That was very cool.
I was quick and had very good reflexes, --I did manage to stop a few with my face, it's a skill I tell ya-- so I did make a good goalie. Damn I shoulda been a hockey goalie... Course, if I did I wouldn't still have my good looks but I'd be richer.
Ok, nuff about broomball... I didn't break any bones or tear any ligaments playing, so the fat lips, jammed fingers, and bruises everywhere don't count.
See, part one is more of "setting the stage" for things to come... The four main points you should have got out of part one is that little dave could skate, he could skate very well, he really enjoyed ice skating, and he had no fear.
Part 2 coming soon to a blog near you...
Now for the Food
Shiitake and Seaweed soup
This isn't spicy at all, and makes for a nice, soothing cup of soup with lunch. If you want it hotter, there are several ways to do that*.
What you need:
20 gms dried shiitake mushrooms
1 sheet dried yaki nori (seaweed)
1 litre (4 cups) of H2O (water)
1 glass sherry
1 tsp ginger powder
1 tsp chilli (chili) powder
1 tsp light miso paste
What you do:
Soak the shiitake shrooms in the water and sherry for about an hour. After they are soft, you can shop them into whatever size pieces you'd like.
Bring the water and sherry that the shrooms were soaking in to a boil, put the chopped shrooms back in, along with everything else. Note: for the seaweed sheet, tear it up into small pieces over a DRY cutting board, NOT over the steaming broth.
When it's hot (just boils), it's ready (a few mins max).
There's lots of stuff you can add for various flavours (flavors), but this is a good starting point.
*ways to make it hotter:
1) add more chilli powder (duh)
2) add chili flakes
3) soak some dried thai chillis in with the shrooms and boil them up in the broth too --this'll be pretty hot.
If you've made it too hot for your guests, then put a dollop of fresh cream in each serve of soup.
This is a good base to experiment with different spices and herbs, so get creative kiddies.
Sunday, November 05, 2006
Holy Silver Iodide, Batman!
Well, darn it all... if only we had some bloody clouds to seed, then it would be great. But, alas, no, we don't. For those of you naught in the know: Australia is in the middle of the worst drought since records were kept. I happen to live in the driest state in the driest continent on the wettest (liquid) planet in the solar system (there's a lot more out there, but it's kinda frozen and relatively inaccessable to us --although if you put the billion dollars a day that's funneled into an unnamed Persian Gulf country then we'd have been harvesting the ice in the solar system yonks ago).
But, as usual, I digress... So how are we at the ole clan homestead dealing with the drought? Several things, and this is why I've been pretty damned busy this last week --I'm sure you noticed the lack of posts perhaps? But have no fear, I've got a multi-part story time for you and loads of recipes so there should be a post daily this coming week (fingers, toes, eyes all crossed).
Ok, back to drought stuff:
There are several ways in which I've been keeping the garden going and still EASILY abiding by the water restrictions (which are pretty wussy restrictions anyways).
I don't use the in-ground sprinkler system --hose and bucket instead. I've found that the sprinkler system is for lazy folk and it doesn't do nearly as good a job and wastes a sh*tload of water.
Don't overprune the shade plants --this should have a serious Duh Factor to you gardener types.
Plant things that have a root system that binds the soil and traps nighttime dew.
Don't water the apple tree... WAAAAAHHHH!!!! This years apples will be very small and kinda bitter, so I'm not even gonna bother watering (I mean extra watering, BTW) the tree or harvesting the apples. But that's ok! For one thing, it gives the parrots, rosellas and lorikeets something to eat in the middle of the summer (they are very pretty). And I know a good market garden outside of Hahndorf where I can get good, inexpensive apples anyways. Soooo, this year the apples are for the birds (I'm so eco-friendly).
And the one that's been taking up a helluva lot of me time: Barking. Oh, not the dog type variety... Barking the garden. This means a completely thorough weeding session (how do those damn things grow in a drought?????) before putting the bark down. Why bark? Barking traps all the moisture so your shrubs, bushes, herbs, roses, etc can utilize the night dew without having to over water the place. Aaaaaannnnndddddd, the oil leeching out of the bark KILLS grasses and weeds!!!!!!
Oh, a word about weeding: this is the weeding job from HELL. I didn't design this garden --good gawd it would be different if I did--so it's an actual pain in the *ss to get to a lot of it. Roses are planted hither and thither with bushes and shrubs; and the whole thing was done with sandy loam so the cooch grass and the kikuyu grasses from the lawn have put out runners and infested it all. Blech.
I do most of my herb growing in pots and baskets just cus the layout of the rest of the place sucks the big one.
Do any of you remember that I've got a multi-part story time coming up? For you newbies (all 23,456 of you) I try to post an amusing anecdote from my youth and it usually involve me: getting hurt, doing really dumb things, or scaring myself shitless. Today there will be no story time though... I've got a great (it involves all three things --weehoo!!!!) one coming up that I'm spreading over a few posts this coming week. So STAY TUNED!!
Oh, yes, a recipe... If memory serves me right, I last talked about sourdough starter. So today I'll give you a use for the sourdough started all million of you have had in your garage. Your welcome.
Coming shortly: a young dave, ice skates, pebbles, jammed wrists, ice, babes, broken arms, hockey sticks, ice, needles, shovels, ripped clothing, casts, ice, embarrassment, cold, winter, ice, bulldozers, bruises, snowplows. How's that for a teaser?
But first, Food!
Sourdough Biscuits (scones for you in the UK)
Well, last time I told you all about making your own sourdough starter, and since it's been 3 or 4 days (try over a week dave), your starter should be just about ready for use.
There are many things you can do with sourdough starter, but I'll only give them to you in dribs and drabs --that's so you keep coming back to visit and leave boatloads of comments!
One thing you'll find with sourdough, the bread takes a lot longer to cook than other breads. So make sure you've got a firm grasp on the nuances before you make stuff from sourdough for guests.
Dave's Sourdough Biscuits
I am taking credit for these, since, well, ummmmm, this is how I make them! If I've somehow stumbled upon someone else's recipe in my kitchen experimentation, then tough!
What you need:
1 1/2 cups (355 mls) plain flour
1 tbsp raw sugar
2 tsp baking powder
dash of sea salt
2 tbsp softened butter (not melted!!!)
1 cup sourdough starter
some flour for your rolling pin, board, and hands
What you do:
Combine the first four (4) ingredients in a mixing bowl (actually, any kind of bowl it'll fit in will work). Toss in the softened butter and cut in using fork tines until the mixture has a cornmeal texture.
Pour in the sourdough starter and stir to combine. Using your floured hands (no fingers please), work the dough till it's a nice "doughy" texture. Oh, BTW, even if you don't bake this is a pretty darned easy one, no worries.
Roll out the dough on your cutting board to about 1/2 an inch thick (a bit over a cm). Cut with a 2 inch cutter --NOTE: if you don't have a cookie cutter, then just use an upturned water glass, that's what I do-- and put them on an ungreased baking tray.
For those of you who are real chefs... I cook mine on one of my pizza stones, works great!
Bake at 200 C (392 F) for 20-25 mins (remember, sourdough takes longer than regular dough).
These are great as the "biscuits" in "biscuits and gravy". They are also wonderful as scones in "devonshire cream tea", and they are great with lemon butter*. I've also put guacamole on them and that tasted great too --well, at least to me it tasted great but I'm a little bit different.
* Don't worry, I'll tell ya how to make lemon butter soon... IT'S AWESOME!
But, as usual, I digress... So how are we at the ole clan homestead dealing with the drought? Several things, and this is why I've been pretty damned busy this last week --I'm sure you noticed the lack of posts perhaps? But have no fear, I've got a multi-part story time for you and loads of recipes so there should be a post daily this coming week (fingers, toes, eyes all crossed).
Ok, back to drought stuff:
There are several ways in which I've been keeping the garden going and still EASILY abiding by the water restrictions (which are pretty wussy restrictions anyways).
I don't use the in-ground sprinkler system --hose and bucket instead. I've found that the sprinkler system is for lazy folk and it doesn't do nearly as good a job and wastes a sh*tload of water.
Don't overprune the shade plants --this should have a serious Duh Factor to you gardener types.
Plant things that have a root system that binds the soil and traps nighttime dew.
Don't water the apple tree... WAAAAAHHHH!!!! This years apples will be very small and kinda bitter, so I'm not even gonna bother watering (I mean extra watering, BTW) the tree or harvesting the apples. But that's ok! For one thing, it gives the parrots, rosellas and lorikeets something to eat in the middle of the summer (they are very pretty). And I know a good market garden outside of Hahndorf where I can get good, inexpensive apples anyways. Soooo, this year the apples are for the birds (I'm so eco-friendly).
And the one that's been taking up a helluva lot of me time: Barking. Oh, not the dog type variety... Barking the garden. This means a completely thorough weeding session (how do those damn things grow in a drought?????) before putting the bark down. Why bark? Barking traps all the moisture so your shrubs, bushes, herbs, roses, etc can utilize the night dew without having to over water the place. Aaaaaannnnndddddd, the oil leeching out of the bark KILLS grasses and weeds!!!!!!
Oh, a word about weeding: this is the weeding job from HELL. I didn't design this garden --good gawd it would be different if I did--so it's an actual pain in the *ss to get to a lot of it. Roses are planted hither and thither with bushes and shrubs; and the whole thing was done with sandy loam so the cooch grass and the kikuyu grasses from the lawn have put out runners and infested it all. Blech.
I do most of my herb growing in pots and baskets just cus the layout of the rest of the place sucks the big one.
Do any of you remember that I've got a multi-part story time coming up? For you newbies (all 23,456 of you) I try to post an amusing anecdote from my youth and it usually involve me: getting hurt, doing really dumb things, or scaring myself shitless. Today there will be no story time though... I've got a great (it involves all three things --weehoo!!!!) one coming up that I'm spreading over a few posts this coming week. So STAY TUNED!!
Oh, yes, a recipe... If memory serves me right, I last talked about sourdough starter. So today I'll give you a use for the sourdough started all million of you have had in your garage. Your welcome.
Coming shortly: a young dave, ice skates, pebbles, jammed wrists, ice, babes, broken arms, hockey sticks, ice, needles, shovels, ripped clothing, casts, ice, embarrassment, cold, winter, ice, bulldozers, bruises, snowplows. How's that for a teaser?
But first, Food!
Sourdough Biscuits (scones for you in the UK)
Well, last time I told you all about making your own sourdough starter, and since it's been 3 or 4 days (try over a week dave), your starter should be just about ready for use.
There are many things you can do with sourdough starter, but I'll only give them to you in dribs and drabs --that's so you keep coming back to visit and leave boatloads of comments!
One thing you'll find with sourdough, the bread takes a lot longer to cook than other breads. So make sure you've got a firm grasp on the nuances before you make stuff from sourdough for guests.
Dave's Sourdough Biscuits
I am taking credit for these, since, well, ummmmm, this is how I make them! If I've somehow stumbled upon someone else's recipe in my kitchen experimentation, then tough!
What you need:
1 1/2 cups (355 mls) plain flour
1 tbsp raw sugar
2 tsp baking powder
dash of sea salt
2 tbsp softened butter (not melted!!!)
1 cup sourdough starter
some flour for your rolling pin, board, and hands
What you do:
Combine the first four (4) ingredients in a mixing bowl (actually, any kind of bowl it'll fit in will work). Toss in the softened butter and cut in using fork tines until the mixture has a cornmeal texture.
Pour in the sourdough starter and stir to combine. Using your floured hands (no fingers please), work the dough till it's a nice "doughy" texture. Oh, BTW, even if you don't bake this is a pretty darned easy one, no worries.
Roll out the dough on your cutting board to about 1/2 an inch thick (a bit over a cm). Cut with a 2 inch cutter --NOTE: if you don't have a cookie cutter, then just use an upturned water glass, that's what I do-- and put them on an ungreased baking tray.
For those of you who are real chefs... I cook mine on one of my pizza stones, works great!
Bake at 200 C (392 F) for 20-25 mins (remember, sourdough takes longer than regular dough).
These are great as the "biscuits" in "biscuits and gravy". They are also wonderful as scones in "devonshire cream tea", and they are great with lemon butter*. I've also put guacamole on them and that tasted great too --well, at least to me it tasted great but I'm a little bit different.
* Don't worry, I'll tell ya how to make lemon butter soon... IT'S AWESOME!
Friday, October 27, 2006
Like Sands Through The Hourglass...
Howdy kiddies! Glad you could all make it here today. I'm hoping that I just might have something entertaining for you this time. Going by how many comments there are, I'd say I'm *perhaps* entertaining one or two of you each post.
Ok, that's cool. I can handle that. Remember, in 2032 I invent a really cool item that transmits your thoughts to your blog (but only the thoughts you want). This revolutionizes blogging and I am hailed by the entire known universe. This is one of the reasons I'm putting my thoughts into the keyboard now for the use of future historians trying to dissect my life.
Blarf! Ok, that bit of crapola is out of the way. Should I bother writing about the worst drought in history here in the driest state in the driest continent in the world? No! Of course not! You'd much rather read stories of my youth in which I actively tried to kill myself...
Which brings us to your second favorite segment: story time with unkie dave.
We are going waaaaay waaaaaay back into the mists of time... back to dave's oldest memory! Not surprisingly, it involves dave hurting himself. This was even before I left my face on the pavement (it grew back, thanks for asking).
My first broken leg.
Do any of you remember having a swing set in your yard when you were a wee little tyke (brat)? Well, we had one back in the trailer court. Yeah, yeah, I can hear the jokes about "trailer trash" now. But this was a different trailer court. The wilds of Alaska were right next door, moose routinely visited, black bear sign abounded (don't step in it), and the wolves of the Chugach Pack could be heard howling.
This story is not about any of the wild critters though, this about me trying to amputate my leg in my own back yard (do trailers have a "back yard"?).
Back to the swing set... I can hear you now, "but dave, how the hell do you break a leg on a swing set without falling?" Ah yes, this was one of those really cool swing sets back before the days of lawyers and personal injury lawsuits and corporate negligence. This was back in the days when kids were allowed to be kids and if they hurt themselves then they learned from it. Ummm, as an aside; I learnt a LOT when I was growing up (and I'm still learning!!!).
Are any of you old enough to remember the swing set apparatus in which kids sat on either side and swung back and forth? No? Imagine a metal pole coming straight down from the top of the swing set (actually two of them parallel lined up longitudinally to the set, but that's beside the point) and a couple of bars perpendicular to that pole with a seat on either end for the little brats to sit on. Oh, there were some frills, like foot posts, and some bars to grab onto and a hard plastic seat on each side.
Now, as the little kids would swing back and forth, the two support poles would move through around 120 degrees... back and forth... rather rapidly... You may be able to imagine what would happen if some dumb little 4 year old (me) had his foot slip as he was leaning forward with all his might. No? You can't? I can... the little kids foot slips forward and wedges the leg it is attached to firmly between the two poles just as they are going from an obtuse angle to an acute one. Can you imagine what then happens to the leg of the kid as centrifugal (centripetal actually) force swings the swing along it's pre-destined arc? I'll tell you what happens...
The leg goes SNAP... and quite quickly too...
That's all I remember except being in a cast for a while and not being able to play on the swings till the damn cast is off, bummer.
My first emergency room visit and I don't even remember the hospital! Oh well, I guess a century or two of hard living will do that to a bloke.
Ok, this was perhaps a pretty lame story cus my memory is hazy, but I thought it had to be told.
Food Time:
I guess before I start with sourdough recipes, I'd better tell y'all a little about sourdough starter. Here we go:
Sourdough starter is a wonderful thing to have and to use. You may notice that the term "sourdough" is used in conjunction with gold miners and crabby old Alaskans. If you wanted bread out in the middle of nowhere, it was (and still is) easier (and tastier) to keep a jug of sourdough starter with you than yeast or baking powder. Also, there's no rising time with sourdough. It does take a bit longer to bake, but with a good bed of coals (or a modern oven) that's no worries.
The best way to get sourdough starter is to borrow some from the cabin down the road. If you aren't fortunate to live in a cabin dwellin' type place, then here's what you do to make your own sourdough starter.
What you need:
1 or 2 small spuds (potatoes), peeled
1 to 2 cups (237 mls) of H2O (water)
1 to 2 cups (237 to 474 mls) of plain flour
2 tbsp (30 mls) raw sugar
a pinch of dry yeast
What you do:
Boil the spuds till they are really really soft. Drain, then mash. Add some water till it's a good slurry. Add the sugar and the yeast and stir. Then add the flour while stirring until you have a thick, soupy type mix.
Put it in a covered glass bowl or jug. Stir it a few times a day for 3 or 4 days, then it'll be ready to use. It'll be good and bubbly and smell damned good.
Coming up next: what to do with the starter... Biscuits!
Oh, yes. I almost forgot: it'll get a wee bit, ahhhh, aromatic... I keep mine in the garage.
You can continue to use the starter pretty much forever. I've been working off the same bowl for over a year now (had to restart when we moved). The trick is to leave at least a cup of the liquid starter in the bowl and then 'top it up'. You top it up with equal parts water and flour, a bit of sugar, and some yeast if you think it needs it.
I really can cook... haven't you noticed yet????
Ok, that's cool. I can handle that. Remember, in 2032 I invent a really cool item that transmits your thoughts to your blog (but only the thoughts you want). This revolutionizes blogging and I am hailed by the entire known universe. This is one of the reasons I'm putting my thoughts into the keyboard now for the use of future historians trying to dissect my life.
Blarf! Ok, that bit of crapola is out of the way. Should I bother writing about the worst drought in history here in the driest state in the driest continent in the world? No! Of course not! You'd much rather read stories of my youth in which I actively tried to kill myself...
Which brings us to your second favorite segment: story time with unkie dave.
We are going waaaaay waaaaaay back into the mists of time... back to dave's oldest memory! Not surprisingly, it involves dave hurting himself. This was even before I left my face on the pavement (it grew back, thanks for asking).
My first broken leg.
Do any of you remember having a swing set in your yard when you were a wee little tyke (brat)? Well, we had one back in the trailer court. Yeah, yeah, I can hear the jokes about "trailer trash" now. But this was a different trailer court. The wilds of Alaska were right next door, moose routinely visited, black bear sign abounded (don't step in it), and the wolves of the Chugach Pack could be heard howling.
This story is not about any of the wild critters though, this about me trying to amputate my leg in my own back yard (do trailers have a "back yard"?).
Back to the swing set... I can hear you now, "but dave, how the hell do you break a leg on a swing set without falling?" Ah yes, this was one of those really cool swing sets back before the days of lawyers and personal injury lawsuits and corporate negligence. This was back in the days when kids were allowed to be kids and if they hurt themselves then they learned from it. Ummm, as an aside; I learnt a LOT when I was growing up (and I'm still learning!!!).
Are any of you old enough to remember the swing set apparatus in which kids sat on either side and swung back and forth? No? Imagine a metal pole coming straight down from the top of the swing set (actually two of them parallel lined up longitudinally to the set, but that's beside the point) and a couple of bars perpendicular to that pole with a seat on either end for the little brats to sit on. Oh, there were some frills, like foot posts, and some bars to grab onto and a hard plastic seat on each side.
Now, as the little kids would swing back and forth, the two support poles would move through around 120 degrees... back and forth... rather rapidly... You may be able to imagine what would happen if some dumb little 4 year old (me) had his foot slip as he was leaning forward with all his might. No? You can't? I can... the little kids foot slips forward and wedges the leg it is attached to firmly between the two poles just as they are going from an obtuse angle to an acute one. Can you imagine what then happens to the leg of the kid as centrifugal (centripetal actually) force swings the swing along it's pre-destined arc? I'll tell you what happens...
The leg goes SNAP... and quite quickly too...
That's all I remember except being in a cast for a while and not being able to play on the swings till the damn cast is off, bummer.
My first emergency room visit and I don't even remember the hospital! Oh well, I guess a century or two of hard living will do that to a bloke.
Ok, this was perhaps a pretty lame story cus my memory is hazy, but I thought it had to be told.
Food Time:
I guess before I start with sourdough recipes, I'd better tell y'all a little about sourdough starter. Here we go:
Sourdough starter is a wonderful thing to have and to use. You may notice that the term "sourdough" is used in conjunction with gold miners and crabby old Alaskans. If you wanted bread out in the middle of nowhere, it was (and still is) easier (and tastier) to keep a jug of sourdough starter with you than yeast or baking powder. Also, there's no rising time with sourdough. It does take a bit longer to bake, but with a good bed of coals (or a modern oven) that's no worries.
The best way to get sourdough starter is to borrow some from the cabin down the road. If you aren't fortunate to live in a cabin dwellin' type place, then here's what you do to make your own sourdough starter.
What you need:
1 or 2 small spuds (potatoes), peeled
1 to 2 cups (237 mls) of H2O (water)
1 to 2 cups (237 to 474 mls) of plain flour
2 tbsp (30 mls) raw sugar
a pinch of dry yeast
What you do:
Boil the spuds till they are really really soft. Drain, then mash. Add some water till it's a good slurry. Add the sugar and the yeast and stir. Then add the flour while stirring until you have a thick, soupy type mix.
Put it in a covered glass bowl or jug. Stir it a few times a day for 3 or 4 days, then it'll be ready to use. It'll be good and bubbly and smell damned good.
Coming up next: what to do with the starter... Biscuits!
Oh, yes. I almost forgot: it'll get a wee bit, ahhhh, aromatic... I keep mine in the garage.
You can continue to use the starter pretty much forever. I've been working off the same bowl for over a year now (had to restart when we moved). The trick is to leave at least a cup of the liquid starter in the bowl and then 'top it up'. You top it up with equal parts water and flour, a bit of sugar, and some yeast if you think it needs it.
I really can cook... haven't you noticed yet????
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Prelude To A Mauling
I'm very sorry to disappoint all my loyal readers, but I do feel that I have to tell you I've never been mauled by a bear. Seen lots of bears, but never been mauled by one, so perhaps the title is a little misleading.
However, I have been mauled... By the biggest Mall in the Southern Hemisphere! Ah, yes: Westfield Marion Shopping Centre. We'll just shorten that to The Mall.
Story time with unkie dave is actually going to be about The Mall. Don't worry though, I'll be getting back to my rough, tough childhood in the woods, never fear. This is more about my rough, tough Mall adventures down under. This could get long, as I don't have an outline to work from... I'm not a writer!
The Mall will safely hold over 200,000 people before the fire code folks even start to think it might be a bit crowded. That means the ENTIRE POPULATION OF LOS ANCHORAGE WOULD FIT INTO THIS MALL. Did I mention it's the biggest mall in the Southern Hemisphere? Oh, wait, yes I did, sorry.
The place is HUGE! And noisy! And HUGE! And busy! And HUGE! Did I mention it's the biggest mall in the southern hemisphere? Ok, that's getting old so I'll stop that now.
You can buy anything you want there... ANYTHING! Hell, I even bought ole Rocket Butt there (stay tuned for a future post, ain't spillin' the beans today). You can have oral surgery done there. You can buy a guitar there. ALL banks have a branch there. You can buy naughty underwear there. You can buy a car there. There are 3 bike shops there. You can get really overpriced coffee there. You can eat any ethnic food you can think of there. You can book a cruise to Antarctica there. You can get your car fixed. You can see a lawyer. You can see any movie you'd like. You can buy enough timber to build a house. Ok, I'll stop now.
When I first moved here, we lived in a house one street back from The Mall. It was very handy. Never drove anywhere... you just walked across the street for whatever you wanted.
Now that we've been out in the hills and woods for a while, I've noticed a few things about The Mall. Shall I tell you what they are? Of course I shall:
1) It's noisy
2) It's loud
3) It stinks
4) It's really noisy
5) It's really loud
6) It really stinks
That's just what you notice trying to find parking...
Walking to an entrance is like taking your life in your hands, and once you get inside it's even worse! Good luck when it's crowded! Gaaack, I've never seen so many inconsiderate b*stards before. If you are carrying a box under your arm, I can guarantee that it'll be knocked out by a passerby within 30 secs. Jerks. Getting a shopping cart through is LOADS of fun. I've often thought of putting on dark glasses and walking through The Mall with a white cane. I'd have a friend with me to "guide" me just to give the Maulers a chance to be nice. I'm POSITIVE that the cane would be stepped on and I'd be knocked around every ten seconds.
This past holiday season, The Mall was open all night on christmas eve. I did not go anywhere near it. I was asleep like any sane person would be. I do have a story from a lady I know who works in one of the shops there. She works at the ink cartridge place where we buy ink tanks and laser toner from and she related this to us the week after x-mas.
All stores were open till 200 am, and many of the large ones till 500 am (imagine that, working/shopping till 500 am christmas morning). She closed of the cartridge shop at 200 am and walked 50 yards to a place to get a new telly on sale. She then bought the telly, loaded it into a shopping cart and went through The Mall as she was parked at the far end. SHE DIDN'T GET OUT OF THE MALL TILL 500 AM!!!!
Let me recap: Off work at 200 am. 50 yds to store. Buy telly. Check out. Walk through The Mall with telly in a shopping cart. Exit The Mall at 500 am. THIS IS JUST TOO FUCKING WRONG! She said it took almost 90 minutes from leaving the store with the telly to the far end of The Mall... That also means the other 90 mins to walk 50 yards, pick out a telly, and pay for said telly.
Gee folks: do you think The Mall was just a wee bit overcrowded? I've actually been in there when there were 150,000 people in it and it wasn't anywhere close to that bad. There must have been over 300,000 people there... 1/3 the population of Adelaide was in the damn mall at 200 am of christmas morning!!!!!
You shopaholics would've LOVED it!
I promise that next post will be more ramblings of my youth, should be fun. Oh, and someday I'll tell you the Rocket Butt story...
In the meantime: FOOD!
This'll be one for you vegetabletarians: Cream Of Mushroom Soup.
This'll make up enough soup for four hungry adults to have for dinner, and you'll even have a bowl left over (maybe).
I hope you don't get tired of soups from me; they are easy, they are quick, and they are very healthy (at least mine are).
What you need:
One can of campbells cream of mushroom soup
one can opener
one cup of milk
JUST KIDDING!!!! It's been yonks since I've had soup out of a can.
What you need:
1 kilo (two pounds) of fresh, raw, button mushrooms
one small onion, finely minced
olive oil
dash of lime juice
1 tsp dried tarragon
salt
ground white pepper
a few cups of milk
freshy shredded parmesan (not the stuff that comes in a green canister)
fresh basil leaves
What you do:
Rinse the shrooms and chop em in half (doesn't have to be neatly done). Toss shrooms and onions in a wok with a tbsp or two or olive oil, sprinkle on the dried tarragon and the lime juice. Cook quickly over high heat for 3-5 minutes, tossing/stirring regularly. Set aside and let cool for a few mins.
Add some of the cooked shrooms/onions and some milk to a blender, blend till smooth. You'll probably end up with two blender-fulls. Pour it all into a thick-bottomed pot and simmer for 10-20 mins. Add more milk if you'd like. Stir regularly.
Add salt and pepper to taste.
For serving: ladle soup into a bowl, and then sprinkle with fresh parmesan and a couple of chopped fresh basil leaves. Serve with piping hot fresh bread.
However, I have been mauled... By the biggest Mall in the Southern Hemisphere! Ah, yes: Westfield Marion Shopping Centre. We'll just shorten that to The Mall.
Story time with unkie dave is actually going to be about The Mall. Don't worry though, I'll be getting back to my rough, tough childhood in the woods, never fear. This is more about my rough, tough Mall adventures down under. This could get long, as I don't have an outline to work from... I'm not a writer!
The Mall will safely hold over 200,000 people before the fire code folks even start to think it might be a bit crowded. That means the ENTIRE POPULATION OF LOS ANCHORAGE WOULD FIT INTO THIS MALL. Did I mention it's the biggest mall in the Southern Hemisphere? Oh, wait, yes I did, sorry.
The place is HUGE! And noisy! And HUGE! And busy! And HUGE! Did I mention it's the biggest mall in the southern hemisphere? Ok, that's getting old so I'll stop that now.
You can buy anything you want there... ANYTHING! Hell, I even bought ole Rocket Butt there (stay tuned for a future post, ain't spillin' the beans today). You can have oral surgery done there. You can buy a guitar there. ALL banks have a branch there. You can buy naughty underwear there. You can buy a car there. There are 3 bike shops there. You can get really overpriced coffee there. You can eat any ethnic food you can think of there. You can book a cruise to Antarctica there. You can get your car fixed. You can see a lawyer. You can see any movie you'd like. You can buy enough timber to build a house. Ok, I'll stop now.
When I first moved here, we lived in a house one street back from The Mall. It was very handy. Never drove anywhere... you just walked across the street for whatever you wanted.
Now that we've been out in the hills and woods for a while, I've noticed a few things about The Mall. Shall I tell you what they are? Of course I shall:
1) It's noisy
2) It's loud
3) It stinks
4) It's really noisy
5) It's really loud
6) It really stinks
That's just what you notice trying to find parking...
Walking to an entrance is like taking your life in your hands, and once you get inside it's even worse! Good luck when it's crowded! Gaaack, I've never seen so many inconsiderate b*stards before. If you are carrying a box under your arm, I can guarantee that it'll be knocked out by a passerby within 30 secs. Jerks. Getting a shopping cart through is LOADS of fun. I've often thought of putting on dark glasses and walking through The Mall with a white cane. I'd have a friend with me to "guide" me just to give the Maulers a chance to be nice. I'm POSITIVE that the cane would be stepped on and I'd be knocked around every ten seconds.
This past holiday season, The Mall was open all night on christmas eve. I did not go anywhere near it. I was asleep like any sane person would be. I do have a story from a lady I know who works in one of the shops there. She works at the ink cartridge place where we buy ink tanks and laser toner from and she related this to us the week after x-mas.
All stores were open till 200 am, and many of the large ones till 500 am (imagine that, working/shopping till 500 am christmas morning). She closed of the cartridge shop at 200 am and walked 50 yards to a place to get a new telly on sale. She then bought the telly, loaded it into a shopping cart and went through The Mall as she was parked at the far end. SHE DIDN'T GET OUT OF THE MALL TILL 500 AM!!!!
Let me recap: Off work at 200 am. 50 yds to store. Buy telly. Check out. Walk through The Mall with telly in a shopping cart. Exit The Mall at 500 am. THIS IS JUST TOO FUCKING WRONG! She said it took almost 90 minutes from leaving the store with the telly to the far end of The Mall... That also means the other 90 mins to walk 50 yards, pick out a telly, and pay for said telly.
Gee folks: do you think The Mall was just a wee bit overcrowded? I've actually been in there when there were 150,000 people in it and it wasn't anywhere close to that bad. There must have been over 300,000 people there... 1/3 the population of Adelaide was in the damn mall at 200 am of christmas morning!!!!!
You shopaholics would've LOVED it!
I promise that next post will be more ramblings of my youth, should be fun. Oh, and someday I'll tell you the Rocket Butt story...
In the meantime: FOOD!
This'll be one for you vegetabletarians: Cream Of Mushroom Soup.
This'll make up enough soup for four hungry adults to have for dinner, and you'll even have a bowl left over (maybe).
I hope you don't get tired of soups from me; they are easy, they are quick, and they are very healthy (at least mine are).
What you need:
One can of campbells cream of mushroom soup
one can opener
one cup of milk
JUST KIDDING!!!! It's been yonks since I've had soup out of a can.
What you need:
1 kilo (two pounds) of fresh, raw, button mushrooms
one small onion, finely minced
olive oil
dash of lime juice
1 tsp dried tarragon
salt
ground white pepper
a few cups of milk
freshy shredded parmesan (not the stuff that comes in a green canister)
fresh basil leaves
What you do:
Rinse the shrooms and chop em in half (doesn't have to be neatly done). Toss shrooms and onions in a wok with a tbsp or two or olive oil, sprinkle on the dried tarragon and the lime juice. Cook quickly over high heat for 3-5 minutes, tossing/stirring regularly. Set aside and let cool for a few mins.
Add some of the cooked shrooms/onions and some milk to a blender, blend till smooth. You'll probably end up with two blender-fulls. Pour it all into a thick-bottomed pot and simmer for 10-20 mins. Add more milk if you'd like. Stir regularly.
Add salt and pepper to taste.
For serving: ladle soup into a bowl, and then sprinkle with fresh parmesan and a couple of chopped fresh basil leaves. Serve with piping hot fresh bread.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
You've Ruined It!
The title works best when said in a cool Smeagol voice, and don't forget to keep nassty chipss.
Well hello folks. So, like, what the heck did I ruin? Ha! I didn't ruin nuthin'. But I'll tell you a story about how a beautiful, wonderful, scary cross-country ski trail was ruined. But first; a bit of a back-story...
Oh wait, I know what you are thinking: if I keep up with a cool story and a cool recipe every day then pretty damned soon I'm going to run out of stories and cool recipes. I've got you fooled! Umpteen decades of experience in the wilds of Alaska (haven't even started on the Aussie stories yet) and umpteen years of home cookin' (I like to eat) means I shouldn't run out of material until at least the 51st of March, 2287. Oh, yes, for those of you who don't know, the number of days in a year was changed to 867 in 2200 cus all the asteroid impacts slowed the orbit of the Earth. I'm making a note here for the future historians --you're welcome.
Back to the ruination of what was once a really awesome cross-country ski trail.
For those of you who have read all the entries so far (damned boring, weren't they?) you would know that I was on my high school cross country skiing team (and the running team too). You may also have gleamed the info that we trained at Kincaid Park in Los Anchorage (very close to Alaska).
We trained at Kincaid before the trails were lighted. We trained at Kincaid before there was a stadium. We trained at Kincaid when the old military bunkers were still there (they were great for bb-gun fights, but that's another story). We trained at Kincaid when none of the trails were marked. We trained at Kincaid when the trails weren't groomed. In other words, we had fun skiing through the woods --that's putting it mildly.
There's a wee bit of a difference betwixt "old" Kincaid and "new" Kincaid. I'd say about the difference between a primordial forest and a ten lane expressway. You can probably guess which I prefer.
Many of the downhill sections in "old" Kincaid were named: Compression, Horseshoe, Niagra, Slalom, etc. I always feared Slalom. Why? I'll tell you why.
Firstly, it was downhill (that's cool, but there are no brakes on skis). It wound through trees --these weren't the trees you see in a Warren Millar powder movie... these were TREES! Six feet in diameter! Really big, huge kid-eating TREES.
Secondly, the trail wound through the trees, of course. Did the "slalom" trail wind through the trees properly? Not a chance. Did you turn AFTER each tree? Not a chance. Every turn was JUST BEFORE A TREE --remember, these aren't little tiny wussie trees you can crash through. If you weren't wearing brown-colored britches at first, then by the last (fifth) turn JUST BEFORE A DAMNED BIG TREE I can certainly guarantee you were afterwards.
That last turn --left BTW-- was one I'll always remember. It was almost always dark or twilight. Remember, this is Alaska in the winter in the late afternoon so there wasn't much light. I remember the two huge roots from the base of the evil tree sculpted into the icy, hard-packed joke of a turn. I remember the huge crack in the bark that most certainly swallowed skiers/kids whole. I remember the imprint of the face of an unlucky kid just above the crack that had to have ingested his body.
Everytime it came time to avoid that last tree (by turning left on an icy trail with only thin cross-country skies to vainly attempt to carve a turn), I could never take my eyes off the imprint of the face above that crack in the bark. If you assumed that nine times out of ten I wiped out/bailed out into the deep snow off the trail as I flailed around that last corner while trying not to stare at the tree, well then you'd be right.
I lost count of the number of times I wiped out on that last corner, and the number of times I skied that trail. It seemed the only time I ever made it was during a race --must've been the extra adreneline I guess.
I never hit that tree, but I was sure I would many many many times...
Fast forward the tape a few decades...
High Summer. dave riding through the trails of "new" kincaid on a mountain bike. dave is savoring the wide trails, the sandpits at the bottom of a descent (good thing I learned how to go over handlebars when I was young), the glorious views over Turnagain Arm, the greetings from other trail users as we ride past each other. Ahhhhh, bliss. Even the moose were friendly. Butterflies float over the fields, rabbits play with the foxes, and joy was in the world.
dave decides to go and relive his childhood on the "old" trails of kincaid... The trails suddenly take on a distinctly menacing tone, the underbrush clogs the trail and obscures the wheel-breaking roots... The devil's club thorns grow by three inches and scrape huge divots out of unsuspecting legs... Darkness descends... The trees whisper evilly to each other... The brush rustles with the movements of unknown beasts... Ah! Great! Back to normal, just like dave remembers it!
Approaching the descent of Slalom, dave attempts to recollect each turn. No such luck, besides that was in the snow on skies and this is on a bike in the dirt. "At least I'll have brakes," thinks dave --quickly testing them.
"Wait a sec, that was the first tree! But no turn???" Odd thoughts rush through dave's brain -quite quickly too. "Hey, there went the second, third and fourth tree and STILL no turns?" Our hero passes the fifth and final tree and STILL no turns --but he did notice more face imprints above the crack in the bark of the fifth tree.
THE BASTARDS STRAIGHTENED IT!!!! THEY RUINED IT!!!!
I couldn't believe it... the go*&%$$%#*&@##@$@@#ed parks and rec as@#$%%##@es straightened out Slalom. They made a mockery of a once feared descent --b*%%%rds even left the sign up "Slalom"! As if that's supposed to appease the demon that once lurked there. Now, countless kiddies on skies will arrive home WITHOUT having to change their undies; lucky little brats.
Isn't this where I'm supposed to say something about not being able to go home again? Stuff that! I've never grown up and I ain't gonna now. Gonna go see if Horseshoe is still there and what it looks like in the dark...
Coming up soon: dave and another concussion.
Food time, wee-hoo.
Real Men Don't Eat Quiche: They Make It First And Then Eat It!
Yummy, scrummy. Tell any redneck truckdriver sourdough crusty old fart (could be me!) this: Eggs, Bacon, Shrooms, Seasonings, all tossed together and cooked. They'll SALIVATE! Then tell them it's a French dish called Quiche Lorraine. Wee-hoo! The fun you can have embarassing neandrethals!
This quiche dish is based on the classic Quiche Lorraine recipe from France. I have made some modifications, so I'll call it "Dave's Quicke". Oops, Quiche...
What you need:
2 large slices of bacon
10 (or so) fresh button mushrooms, rinsed and quartered
1 tsp lime juice
1 tsp dried tarragon or 2 tsp fresh
pinch o sea salt
pinch of ground white pepper
six eggs
a cup or two of milk
12 thin tomato slices
fresh tarragon leaves
fresh basil leaves
What you do:
Cut the bacon into 1 cm square pieces. Cook em till they are almost crispy-like. Put cooked bacon pieces in the bottom of a glass pie dish (no, you don't need to butter or coat the dish).
Sautee the quartered shrooms in the bacon fat and add the lime juice, dried tarragon, sea salt and white pepper while stirring (tossing, if you have a wok) the shrooms. Cook them for 4 to 5 mins. Add the cooked shrooms to the pie dish. The shrooms will smell really really really good.
Whisk the eggs and add enough milk to the eggs so that it'll fill the pie dish. You can always "err on the side of caution" and have extra egg/milk mixture for an omelette in the morning. Pour the beaten eggs and milk into the pie dish.
Chuck the pie dish into a pre-heated oven at 180 C (360 F) --CAREFUL! DON'T SPILL IT!!!!! and cook for 30 mins. Then take the *almost* cooked quiche out and top with thin sliced tomato, fresh tarragon, and fresh basil. Put it back in the oven till it's done (about ten mins more).
Eat and enjoy!
Damn, I should be charging for these...
Well hello folks. So, like, what the heck did I ruin? Ha! I didn't ruin nuthin'. But I'll tell you a story about how a beautiful, wonderful, scary cross-country ski trail was ruined. But first; a bit of a back-story...
Oh wait, I know what you are thinking: if I keep up with a cool story and a cool recipe every day then pretty damned soon I'm going to run out of stories and cool recipes. I've got you fooled! Umpteen decades of experience in the wilds of Alaska (haven't even started on the Aussie stories yet) and umpteen years of home cookin' (I like to eat) means I shouldn't run out of material until at least the 51st of March, 2287. Oh, yes, for those of you who don't know, the number of days in a year was changed to 867 in 2200 cus all the asteroid impacts slowed the orbit of the Earth. I'm making a note here for the future historians --you're welcome.
Back to the ruination of what was once a really awesome cross-country ski trail.
For those of you who have read all the entries so far (damned boring, weren't they?) you would know that I was on my high school cross country skiing team (and the running team too). You may also have gleamed the info that we trained at Kincaid Park in Los Anchorage (very close to Alaska).
We trained at Kincaid before the trails were lighted. We trained at Kincaid before there was a stadium. We trained at Kincaid when the old military bunkers were still there (they were great for bb-gun fights, but that's another story). We trained at Kincaid when none of the trails were marked. We trained at Kincaid when the trails weren't groomed. In other words, we had fun skiing through the woods --that's putting it mildly.
There's a wee bit of a difference betwixt "old" Kincaid and "new" Kincaid. I'd say about the difference between a primordial forest and a ten lane expressway. You can probably guess which I prefer.
Many of the downhill sections in "old" Kincaid were named: Compression, Horseshoe, Niagra, Slalom, etc. I always feared Slalom. Why? I'll tell you why.
Firstly, it was downhill (that's cool, but there are no brakes on skis). It wound through trees --these weren't the trees you see in a Warren Millar powder movie... these were TREES! Six feet in diameter! Really big, huge kid-eating TREES.
Secondly, the trail wound through the trees, of course. Did the "slalom" trail wind through the trees properly? Not a chance. Did you turn AFTER each tree? Not a chance. Every turn was JUST BEFORE A TREE --remember, these aren't little tiny wussie trees you can crash through. If you weren't wearing brown-colored britches at first, then by the last (fifth) turn JUST BEFORE A DAMNED BIG TREE I can certainly guarantee you were afterwards.
That last turn --left BTW-- was one I'll always remember. It was almost always dark or twilight. Remember, this is Alaska in the winter in the late afternoon so there wasn't much light. I remember the two huge roots from the base of the evil tree sculpted into the icy, hard-packed joke of a turn. I remember the huge crack in the bark that most certainly swallowed skiers/kids whole. I remember the imprint of the face of an unlucky kid just above the crack that had to have ingested his body.
Everytime it came time to avoid that last tree (by turning left on an icy trail with only thin cross-country skies to vainly attempt to carve a turn), I could never take my eyes off the imprint of the face above that crack in the bark. If you assumed that nine times out of ten I wiped out/bailed out into the deep snow off the trail as I flailed around that last corner while trying not to stare at the tree, well then you'd be right.
I lost count of the number of times I wiped out on that last corner, and the number of times I skied that trail. It seemed the only time I ever made it was during a race --must've been the extra adreneline I guess.
I never hit that tree, but I was sure I would many many many times...
Fast forward the tape a few decades...
High Summer. dave riding through the trails of "new" kincaid on a mountain bike. dave is savoring the wide trails, the sandpits at the bottom of a descent (good thing I learned how to go over handlebars when I was young), the glorious views over Turnagain Arm, the greetings from other trail users as we ride past each other. Ahhhhh, bliss. Even the moose were friendly. Butterflies float over the fields, rabbits play with the foxes, and joy was in the world.
dave decides to go and relive his childhood on the "old" trails of kincaid... The trails suddenly take on a distinctly menacing tone, the underbrush clogs the trail and obscures the wheel-breaking roots... The devil's club thorns grow by three inches and scrape huge divots out of unsuspecting legs... Darkness descends... The trees whisper evilly to each other... The brush rustles with the movements of unknown beasts... Ah! Great! Back to normal, just like dave remembers it!
Approaching the descent of Slalom, dave attempts to recollect each turn. No such luck, besides that was in the snow on skies and this is on a bike in the dirt. "At least I'll have brakes," thinks dave --quickly testing them.
"Wait a sec, that was the first tree! But no turn???" Odd thoughts rush through dave's brain -quite quickly too. "Hey, there went the second, third and fourth tree and STILL no turns?" Our hero passes the fifth and final tree and STILL no turns --but he did notice more face imprints above the crack in the bark of the fifth tree.
THE BASTARDS STRAIGHTENED IT!!!! THEY RUINED IT!!!!
I couldn't believe it... the go*&%$$%#*&@##@$@@#ed parks and rec as@#$%%##@es straightened out Slalom. They made a mockery of a once feared descent --b*%%%rds even left the sign up "Slalom"! As if that's supposed to appease the demon that once lurked there. Now, countless kiddies on skies will arrive home WITHOUT having to change their undies; lucky little brats.
Isn't this where I'm supposed to say something about not being able to go home again? Stuff that! I've never grown up and I ain't gonna now. Gonna go see if Horseshoe is still there and what it looks like in the dark...
Coming up soon: dave and another concussion.
Food time, wee-hoo.
Real Men Don't Eat Quiche: They Make It First And Then Eat It!
Yummy, scrummy. Tell any redneck truckdriver sourdough crusty old fart (could be me!) this: Eggs, Bacon, Shrooms, Seasonings, all tossed together and cooked. They'll SALIVATE! Then tell them it's a French dish called Quiche Lorraine. Wee-hoo! The fun you can have embarassing neandrethals!
This quiche dish is based on the classic Quiche Lorraine recipe from France. I have made some modifications, so I'll call it "Dave's Quicke". Oops, Quiche...
What you need:
2 large slices of bacon
10 (or so) fresh button mushrooms, rinsed and quartered
1 tsp lime juice
1 tsp dried tarragon or 2 tsp fresh
pinch o sea salt
pinch of ground white pepper
six eggs
a cup or two of milk
12 thin tomato slices
fresh tarragon leaves
fresh basil leaves
What you do:
Cut the bacon into 1 cm square pieces. Cook em till they are almost crispy-like. Put cooked bacon pieces in the bottom of a glass pie dish (no, you don't need to butter or coat the dish).
Sautee the quartered shrooms in the bacon fat and add the lime juice, dried tarragon, sea salt and white pepper while stirring (tossing, if you have a wok) the shrooms. Cook them for 4 to 5 mins. Add the cooked shrooms to the pie dish. The shrooms will smell really really really good.
Whisk the eggs and add enough milk to the eggs so that it'll fill the pie dish. You can always "err on the side of caution" and have extra egg/milk mixture for an omelette in the morning. Pour the beaten eggs and milk into the pie dish.
Chuck the pie dish into a pre-heated oven at 180 C (360 F) --CAREFUL! DON'T SPILL IT!!!!! and cook for 30 mins. Then take the *almost* cooked quiche out and top with thin sliced tomato, fresh tarragon, and fresh basil. Put it back in the oven till it's done (about ten mins more).
Eat and enjoy!
Damn, I should be charging for these...
Friday, October 20, 2006
Creek Climbing
How the heck do you climb a creek anyways? Weeeeeeeeelllllllll, I guess I'll just have to tell you.
But first, a pubic (public) service announcement from yours truly (no, you don't get roses... there'll all mine, damnit) going out to all of my loyal readers --I think there are four of you now, WEE-HOO!
Ah, right, the PSA: Do not under any circumsizes (circumstances) expect any of dave's stories to be in any sort of chronological order. However, you do have the right to expect them all to be true --that's cus they ARE true. Also, the names have not been changed to protect the guilty, cus, you know, like, they are guilty.
OT Do you like my gratuitous use of commas?
Oh, another Pubic Service Announcement: this post could get long. If you are reading it at work (shudder) then that's just too bad for you, I hope you are on your break.
If anyone cares, this weeks cress is ready for cropping, my coriander (cilantro) thicket is coming along nicely, the lettuce looks great, and I've just used a WMD on the damn caterpillars on my herbs. Don't worry, the WMD is a naturally occuring bacteria that doesn't harm any other insect (spiders are my friends) or bird or mammal or lizard (the blue-tongues in the garage eat all the cockroaches). I will protect my mint, my russian tarragon, my chocolate mint, my thyme, my catmint, my sage, my oregano, my basil, my mexican tarragon, my parsley, my purple sage, my mushrooms, my lettuce, and my marjoram from the damn things. Fortunately they leave the garlic alone. Nothing touches the rosemary (except for my shears, the damn things will colonise the garden given half a chance).
The snails haven't tried to have a go at the chinese lantern plant this season, I think it's getting too big for them. They've also given up on my outdoor chrysanthenum and it's about to do its first bloom of the season. I totally kicked major butt of the aphids on the roses last year, so they haven't even tried it this year. I have nice roses. Nothing eats the palms, and the hydrangeas I started as cuttings two years ago are going great. I've moved the mushroom farms into the garage, NO snails will ever get another of my shrooms, damnit!
I'm letting the english and french lavender run riot this summer, there's about five of each out front. There's an odd bush out front that I can't identify, but it smells much like licorice/aniseed (if that makes any sense). I smell so good that after I finish pruning it I want to pretend I'm like the cat and lick myself. Ok, grossness over... for now...
Alrighty mates, story time with unkie dave! Todays episode is Creek Climbing.
Going waaaaay back in thyme, I believe I was 7 or 8. Had to be cus it was between me leaving my face on the pavement but before my first broken arm and way after my first broken leg (still gotta tell you about that). I still had both eyes back then (ok, that was a fib... I have neither eye now).
The family (me, doug (older brother by 14 months), old fart (dad), and mom) were invited to spend the weekend on a friends powerboat in Whittier. Note: this was back when you could only get to Whittier by train. Note Note: you can still see all of Whittier in 5 minutes at a slow walk.
We agreed! We'd never been on a boat that size (later learned it was only a 25 footer...) and it seemed like the Queen Mary. The forecast for the weekend was good --in Alaska that means the raindrops will be smaller than bucket-sized, the wind won't get above 40 mph, no hail, and no snow.
I vaguely remember the trip to get to Whittier so I won't bore you with made-up crap. Neither do I remember Whittier (does anyone??????).
Here's what I remember: heading out of the bay on the boat, the salt spray everywhere, getting yelled at to get off the deck or I'll fall (this was before life preservers were invented and those weird orange vests everyone else was wearing just looked dorky). Ah yes, first time on the ocean... VERY VERY VERY COOL!
Shotgun cove disappeared in the distance and we rounded the headlands... the Waves Got Huge. They were Towering Black Monsters waiting to thrash any boat with the temerity to venture forth into the vast unknown ocean. I later learned they were only four footers and it was only blowing 20 knots... oh the shame...
The waters calmed when we turned left into Pigot Bay. Cool place. It was me first and only time there but I do remember it well (at least the important part, you know, creek climbing). The boat was anchored (I didn't help) and the grups unwound for a bit. Since Doug (my older brother by 14 months) and I had done pretty much nothing for the last hour, we were getting, shall we say, rather restless. Wee-Hoo, the Old Fart (dad) to the rescue.
The Old Fart suggested (he threw our rambunctious asses into the dinghy) that we go ashore and expore the beach. I need to put in an aside here for you folks in the lower 48: Don't think of sandy, warm beaches! Think of gravel, kelp, rocks, driftwood, and forest to the tidemark. Oh, did I mention in was around 35 F, which was just slightly warmer than the ocean or any of the creeks feeding into the ocean? I didn't? Well I have now.
So we "beached" the dinghy and put it up above the tidemark and went exploring. We quickly found a trail. The trail went along the bank of a creek. Creeks in AK are not your typical, idyllic, meandering brooks you might see in the picture books. Real Creeks carve unknown paths through the forest, thunder down cliffs, and yank trees out by their roots. This particular creek made those ones look tame.
The trail started to narrow as the creek climbed the mountain. Several times the trail crossed the creek and we followed... we got wet... we got seriously fucking wet... a few times the Old Fart had to haul each one of us across while he stood in the creek cus the swirling whirlpool we had to cross was over our heads (thanks dad! I won't put you in a nursing home). Sometimes we were able to scramble across the logs that straddled the creek.
It was only later we learned the trail wasn't really a trail, but more of a bear track.
Never saw a bear but boy did he/she start leaving some serious sign. The Old Fart figured (rightly) that as long as we continue to make as much noise as possible (Doug and I were always good at making LOTS of noise) we'll never see a bear. He was right, but we did see lots more bear sign.
"What's bear sign?" you ask. Plainly stated: bear shit. The warmer it is the closer the bear is (I'll leave the temp determining to your fertile imagination). Oh, 12 inch diameter paw prints sorta kinda helped us figure out that it was a bear track.
On up the creek we went... The bear trail soon disappeared off one side (smart bear) and we slogged through the downed tree trunks, the swirling waterpools, the sharp rocks and the dank forest on our own. We went STRAIGHT UP THE CREEK for a while cus there wasn't even a passable bank on either side.
Eventually, the Old Fart must have felt pity on his two little offspring as he suggested we head back down the creek. WEEEE what fun! It was so much easier! Slipping over the slick rocks, sliding over and under the mossy tree trunks! What fun! Avoiding the bear scat! Screaming our fool heads off as we plummeted down the *fucking cold* creek! Oh the joy! Disney could've made a fortune by making this into a theme park ride --dunno how they'd get the bear sign in though.
By some grace of my guardian angel (more about that later... much later) we arrived back at the "beach" intact and everything attached. There wasn't a single dry spot on any of the three of us, but we didn't care. We had FUN!
Arriving back at the anchored boat (they waited, YEA!) my mom took a look at the three of us and freaked. Three blue-lipped, bedraggled, shivering, quivering, COLD, masses of human flesh must have shook her sensibilities a wee bit. Oh we were babied! Dry clothes, blankets, hot chocolate (the Old Fart got schnapps in his, bastard), all in front of the heater in the main cabin. Oh, and FOOD. Lots and lots of WARM FOOD.
Our little toes were shriveled-up blue ice cubes, we had bruises everywhere (and I mean everywhere). Well past the stage of goose-bumps we were... And yet, there was a strange, odd, unholy, light in my eyes... DAMN DID I HAVE FUN!
Over the next few years, whenever we were anchored out in a cove (we got our own boat (it had sails) --but that's another story) I would bring up the suggestion of creek climbing. Mom (bless her heart) would usually rescue me after a few minutes of the Old Fart holding me down while Doug tried to beat some sense into me.
Was this the Beginning with my warped love of the cold and the Outdoors? Or was it just the first physical manifestation of a deeper problem? Time will tell so stay tuned!
Onto one of my favourite (favorite) things: Food
Hamhock soup
Yeah, yeah, yeah... I know, another damned soup recipe. I mean come on dave, we all know how to make soup from scratch. One can 'o' campbells and one can opener! No worries!
Well for those of you who feel like trying the soup I made yesterday, you may read on. For the rest of you... too bad cus you are missing out.
Here's what you kneed for dave's special homemade hamhock soup:
One cured hamhock
lots of water
mix of beans (any assortment of dried beans works great)
dried lentils
dried peas
one diced potato
1 tbspn sea salt
1/4 tspn white pepper
one chopped onion
1 tspn dried basil
1 tspn dried oregano
1 tspn dried tarragon
What you due:
Plonck the hamhock into a big pot, and fill with H2O. Simmer for 2-3 hours, keeping the water topped up. Remove from heat and remove the hamhock and let it cool on a cutting board. You'll find the fat and skin pretty much falls off the bone. Take the meat and shred it using your fingers. Half the shredded ham will be for the soup, the other half will be for pork and beans the next day. You can toss the bone, or give it to the dog.
Skim the fat off the ham soup stock. To the skimmed ham stock add the mix of dried beans, lentils and peas. Simmer for an hour. Add the diced potato, sea salt, white pepper, chopped onion, and the three herbs. Simmer for another 30 minutes. Add half the shredded ham from the hamhock for the last 5 minutes.
Serve hot with fresh homemade wholemeal bread.
This is very very very very tasty!
But first, a pubic (public) service announcement from yours truly (no, you don't get roses... there'll all mine, damnit) going out to all of my loyal readers --I think there are four of you now, WEE-HOO!
Ah, right, the PSA: Do not under any circumsizes (circumstances) expect any of dave's stories to be in any sort of chronological order. However, you do have the right to expect them all to be true --that's cus they ARE true. Also, the names have not been changed to protect the guilty, cus, you know, like, they are guilty.
OT Do you like my gratuitous use of commas?
Oh, another Pubic Service Announcement: this post could get long. If you are reading it at work (shudder) then that's just too bad for you, I hope you are on your break.
If anyone cares, this weeks cress is ready for cropping, my coriander (cilantro) thicket is coming along nicely, the lettuce looks great, and I've just used a WMD on the damn caterpillars on my herbs. Don't worry, the WMD is a naturally occuring bacteria that doesn't harm any other insect (spiders are my friends) or bird or mammal or lizard (the blue-tongues in the garage eat all the cockroaches). I will protect my mint, my russian tarragon, my chocolate mint, my thyme, my catmint, my sage, my oregano, my basil, my mexican tarragon, my parsley, my purple sage, my mushrooms, my lettuce, and my marjoram from the damn things. Fortunately they leave the garlic alone. Nothing touches the rosemary (except for my shears, the damn things will colonise the garden given half a chance).
The snails haven't tried to have a go at the chinese lantern plant this season, I think it's getting too big for them. They've also given up on my outdoor chrysanthenum and it's about to do its first bloom of the season. I totally kicked major butt of the aphids on the roses last year, so they haven't even tried it this year. I have nice roses. Nothing eats the palms, and the hydrangeas I started as cuttings two years ago are going great. I've moved the mushroom farms into the garage, NO snails will ever get another of my shrooms, damnit!
I'm letting the english and french lavender run riot this summer, there's about five of each out front. There's an odd bush out front that I can't identify, but it smells much like licorice/aniseed (if that makes any sense). I smell so good that after I finish pruning it I want to pretend I'm like the cat and lick myself. Ok, grossness over... for now...
Alrighty mates, story time with unkie dave! Todays episode is Creek Climbing.
Going waaaaay back in thyme, I believe I was 7 or 8. Had to be cus it was between me leaving my face on the pavement but before my first broken arm and way after my first broken leg (still gotta tell you about that). I still had both eyes back then (ok, that was a fib... I have neither eye now).
The family (me, doug (older brother by 14 months), old fart (dad), and mom) were invited to spend the weekend on a friends powerboat in Whittier. Note: this was back when you could only get to Whittier by train. Note Note: you can still see all of Whittier in 5 minutes at a slow walk.
We agreed! We'd never been on a boat that size (later learned it was only a 25 footer...) and it seemed like the Queen Mary. The forecast for the weekend was good --in Alaska that means the raindrops will be smaller than bucket-sized, the wind won't get above 40 mph, no hail, and no snow.
I vaguely remember the trip to get to Whittier so I won't bore you with made-up crap. Neither do I remember Whittier (does anyone??????).
Here's what I remember: heading out of the bay on the boat, the salt spray everywhere, getting yelled at to get off the deck or I'll fall (this was before life preservers were invented and those weird orange vests everyone else was wearing just looked dorky). Ah yes, first time on the ocean... VERY VERY VERY COOL!
Shotgun cove disappeared in the distance and we rounded the headlands... the Waves Got Huge. They were Towering Black Monsters waiting to thrash any boat with the temerity to venture forth into the vast unknown ocean. I later learned they were only four footers and it was only blowing 20 knots... oh the shame...
The waters calmed when we turned left into Pigot Bay. Cool place. It was me first and only time there but I do remember it well (at least the important part, you know, creek climbing). The boat was anchored (I didn't help) and the grups unwound for a bit. Since Doug (my older brother by 14 months) and I had done pretty much nothing for the last hour, we were getting, shall we say, rather restless. Wee-Hoo, the Old Fart (dad) to the rescue.
The Old Fart suggested (he threw our rambunctious asses into the dinghy) that we go ashore and expore the beach. I need to put in an aside here for you folks in the lower 48: Don't think of sandy, warm beaches! Think of gravel, kelp, rocks, driftwood, and forest to the tidemark. Oh, did I mention in was around 35 F, which was just slightly warmer than the ocean or any of the creeks feeding into the ocean? I didn't? Well I have now.
So we "beached" the dinghy and put it up above the tidemark and went exploring. We quickly found a trail. The trail went along the bank of a creek. Creeks in AK are not your typical, idyllic, meandering brooks you might see in the picture books. Real Creeks carve unknown paths through the forest, thunder down cliffs, and yank trees out by their roots. This particular creek made those ones look tame.
The trail started to narrow as the creek climbed the mountain. Several times the trail crossed the creek and we followed... we got wet... we got seriously fucking wet... a few times the Old Fart had to haul each one of us across while he stood in the creek cus the swirling whirlpool we had to cross was over our heads (thanks dad! I won't put you in a nursing home). Sometimes we were able to scramble across the logs that straddled the creek.
It was only later we learned the trail wasn't really a trail, but more of a bear track.
Never saw a bear but boy did he/she start leaving some serious sign. The Old Fart figured (rightly) that as long as we continue to make as much noise as possible (Doug and I were always good at making LOTS of noise) we'll never see a bear. He was right, but we did see lots more bear sign.
"What's bear sign?" you ask. Plainly stated: bear shit. The warmer it is the closer the bear is (I'll leave the temp determining to your fertile imagination). Oh, 12 inch diameter paw prints sorta kinda helped us figure out that it was a bear track.
On up the creek we went... The bear trail soon disappeared off one side (smart bear) and we slogged through the downed tree trunks, the swirling waterpools, the sharp rocks and the dank forest on our own. We went STRAIGHT UP THE CREEK for a while cus there wasn't even a passable bank on either side.
Eventually, the Old Fart must have felt pity on his two little offspring as he suggested we head back down the creek. WEEEE what fun! It was so much easier! Slipping over the slick rocks, sliding over and under the mossy tree trunks! What fun! Avoiding the bear scat! Screaming our fool heads off as we plummeted down the *fucking cold* creek! Oh the joy! Disney could've made a fortune by making this into a theme park ride --dunno how they'd get the bear sign in though.
By some grace of my guardian angel (more about that later... much later) we arrived back at the "beach" intact and everything attached. There wasn't a single dry spot on any of the three of us, but we didn't care. We had FUN!
Arriving back at the anchored boat (they waited, YEA!) my mom took a look at the three of us and freaked. Three blue-lipped, bedraggled, shivering, quivering, COLD, masses of human flesh must have shook her sensibilities a wee bit. Oh we were babied! Dry clothes, blankets, hot chocolate (the Old Fart got schnapps in his, bastard), all in front of the heater in the main cabin. Oh, and FOOD. Lots and lots of WARM FOOD.
Our little toes were shriveled-up blue ice cubes, we had bruises everywhere (and I mean everywhere). Well past the stage of goose-bumps we were... And yet, there was a strange, odd, unholy, light in my eyes... DAMN DID I HAVE FUN!
Over the next few years, whenever we were anchored out in a cove (we got our own boat (it had sails) --but that's another story) I would bring up the suggestion of creek climbing. Mom (bless her heart) would usually rescue me after a few minutes of the Old Fart holding me down while Doug tried to beat some sense into me.
Was this the Beginning with my warped love of the cold and the Outdoors? Or was it just the first physical manifestation of a deeper problem? Time will tell so stay tuned!
Onto one of my favourite (favorite) things: Food
Hamhock soup
Yeah, yeah, yeah... I know, another damned soup recipe. I mean come on dave, we all know how to make soup from scratch. One can 'o' campbells and one can opener! No worries!
Well for those of you who feel like trying the soup I made yesterday, you may read on. For the rest of you... too bad cus you are missing out.
Here's what you kneed for dave's special homemade hamhock soup:
One cured hamhock
lots of water
mix of beans (any assortment of dried beans works great)
dried lentils
dried peas
one diced potato
1 tbspn sea salt
1/4 tspn white pepper
one chopped onion
1 tspn dried basil
1 tspn dried oregano
1 tspn dried tarragon
What you due:
Plonck the hamhock into a big pot, and fill with H2O. Simmer for 2-3 hours, keeping the water topped up. Remove from heat and remove the hamhock and let it cool on a cutting board. You'll find the fat and skin pretty much falls off the bone. Take the meat and shred it using your fingers. Half the shredded ham will be for the soup, the other half will be for pork and beans the next day. You can toss the bone, or give it to the dog.
Skim the fat off the ham soup stock. To the skimmed ham stock add the mix of dried beans, lentils and peas. Simmer for an hour. Add the diced potato, sea salt, white pepper, chopped onion, and the three herbs. Simmer for another 30 minutes. Add half the shredded ham from the hamhock for the last 5 minutes.
Serve hot with fresh homemade wholemeal bread.
This is very very very very tasty!
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
A Haunting We Will Go
Before I get to the meat and potatoes of this post, I thought I'd share something with you... Remember when I told you how to make Dolmades? Something you may not know about me is that I tend to tinker with recipes until it's juuuuuuust right.
For even better dolmades, add a small handful of sultanas (raisins) to the stuffing mix while you are frying it up. Also add a tspn of fish sauce to the chicken (or veggie) stock you are going to cook the dolmades in.
Your taste bud will love me!
On with the show! Cus the show must go on!
I haven't posted for a few days, but it's not like I don't have anything to tell you or that I've run outta cool food stuff or that I've run out of stories. Never fear, none of those three things will ever happen. This also won't turn into an abandoned blog, no matter how low my viewership is (is it in negative numbers yet????) Besides, in a hundred years from now historians will want to know my mind in these early years so who am I to disappoint my future billion readers.
I've been hiding in the woods. Not overnight camping, but a lot of hiking around. This spring we are having beautiful weather and I don't wanna waste it at a keyboard. Actually, our spring is way too sunny and warm for this time of year and we are in for one of the worst droughts in history, sigh...
Nothing special has been happening, this weeks cress is sprouting, my coriander (cilantro) thicket is going well, just planted a bunch more herb seeds... blah blah blah, yadda, yadda, yadda.
CUT THE CRAP DAVE, GET TO THE FUNNY STORY FROM ALASKA!!!! Yes, I heard you say that.
Story time with unkie dave:
We are going to jump ahead to high school --don't worry, I'll be getting back to my youth. I was on the x-country running team and the x-country skiing team. Never was I any of the top blokes or blokettes, but I had fun.
One weekend very early in the running season, me and another bloke went for a run. At night, in the dark, in the forest, on some weedy overgrown trails in Old Kincaid (yes, I grew up in Los Anchorage --shut up). Now, back then in the stone age, kincaid park was NOT what it's like nowadays. It was so much Cooler! Did I mention it was creepy and dark at night? My superpower of being able to see in the dark had already kicked in at this point in my life, but that just meant I could see much much more movement in the dark shadowy underbrush.
Did I mention it was a totally clear night with a full moon? No, I hadn't? Well I have now.
I'm keeping you in suspense here, so I'll just tell you what happened: We ran to the back entrance (about 2 miles), ran for an hour through the trails, then ran home.
Oh, wait! We saw Something really cool and then heard (and saw, I swear!) another Something that wasn't so cool.
Something really cool: The aurora came out while we were in the woods. I've seen em lots of times before and since, but this time stuck in my mind. Red, Greens, and Blues all radiating from a central point directly overhead. Colors cascading and shimmering over the entire sky! No city lights for miles and no sound for miles. It was VERY cool.
We stopped and stood rooted to the spot on the trail watching the dancing lights overhead. After 10 mins or so... we HEARD something. I saw some underbrush move about 50 feet away from us. Keith heard the underbrush rustle but couldn't see it move. Yeah, we know there are lynx and black bears and a host of other critters there, but the trails were just begging to be trode upon by us that night.
Two streaks of humanity shot out of that clearing so fast I'm sure we broke every world record for speed there ever was. As we were hauling some serious ass I glanced back for a moment and I SWEAR I saw a pair of yellow glowing eyes in the underbrush RIGHT WHERE THE MOVEMENT WAS! If our coach coulda seen us sprinting the last three miles needed to get outta the park, then our ticket to the olympics would've been punched right then and there. We even picked up our speed when I told Keith I saw glowing eyes.
The next day several people who live around the park area reported hearing thunder during the Aurora show, but it was just the sonic boom from two very very fast and frightened kids.
Aww, heck. It was probably just my imagination. Ummmm, when's the next full moon.... (insert twilight zone music).
Food time!
Veggie time: green beans with extra goodies.
This actually has meat in it, but for you vegetabletarians, just don't use the bacon and cook it all up with a tbsp or two of olive oil (you'll probably want a bit of salt though).
What you need:
Half a kilo (one pound) of FRESH, RAW green beans, tips removed
One red capsicum (red bell pepper), seeded and sliced
Handful (metric handful) of peanuts or cashews.
Two strips of bacon
A tbsp or two of peanut butter
What you do:
Cook the bacon in a wok or a good fry pan till it's just done, but not quite crispy. Remove and let cool. Toss the green beans and bell pepper strips into the bacon fat and cook em (fry) for a few mins --moving them constantly, don't let them burn!. Toss in the peanuts or cashews and the peanut butter. Cook it all up till the veggies are cooked but not soggy --stirring and moving them constantly. Crumple up the bacon and toss the bacon bits in at the end.
Serve hot!
It really only takes 5 mins for the cooking, and the prep work can be done while the main dish is cooking. This is a big hit with the clan down here. Even my bro-in-law who doesn't like most veggie dishes loves this.
You're welcome.
For even better dolmades, add a small handful of sultanas (raisins) to the stuffing mix while you are frying it up. Also add a tspn of fish sauce to the chicken (or veggie) stock you are going to cook the dolmades in.
Your taste bud will love me!
On with the show! Cus the show must go on!
I haven't posted for a few days, but it's not like I don't have anything to tell you or that I've run outta cool food stuff or that I've run out of stories. Never fear, none of those three things will ever happen. This also won't turn into an abandoned blog, no matter how low my viewership is (is it in negative numbers yet????) Besides, in a hundred years from now historians will want to know my mind in these early years so who am I to disappoint my future billion readers.
I've been hiding in the woods. Not overnight camping, but a lot of hiking around. This spring we are having beautiful weather and I don't wanna waste it at a keyboard. Actually, our spring is way too sunny and warm for this time of year and we are in for one of the worst droughts in history, sigh...
Nothing special has been happening, this weeks cress is sprouting, my coriander (cilantro) thicket is going well, just planted a bunch more herb seeds... blah blah blah, yadda, yadda, yadda.
CUT THE CRAP DAVE, GET TO THE FUNNY STORY FROM ALASKA!!!! Yes, I heard you say that.
Story time with unkie dave:
We are going to jump ahead to high school --don't worry, I'll be getting back to my youth. I was on the x-country running team and the x-country skiing team. Never was I any of the top blokes or blokettes, but I had fun.
One weekend very early in the running season, me and another bloke went for a run. At night, in the dark, in the forest, on some weedy overgrown trails in Old Kincaid (yes, I grew up in Los Anchorage --shut up). Now, back then in the stone age, kincaid park was NOT what it's like nowadays. It was so much Cooler! Did I mention it was creepy and dark at night? My superpower of being able to see in the dark had already kicked in at this point in my life, but that just meant I could see much much more movement in the dark shadowy underbrush.
Did I mention it was a totally clear night with a full moon? No, I hadn't? Well I have now.
I'm keeping you in suspense here, so I'll just tell you what happened: We ran to the back entrance (about 2 miles), ran for an hour through the trails, then ran home.
Oh, wait! We saw Something really cool and then heard (and saw, I swear!) another Something that wasn't so cool.
Something really cool: The aurora came out while we were in the woods. I've seen em lots of times before and since, but this time stuck in my mind. Red, Greens, and Blues all radiating from a central point directly overhead. Colors cascading and shimmering over the entire sky! No city lights for miles and no sound for miles. It was VERY cool.
We stopped and stood rooted to the spot on the trail watching the dancing lights overhead. After 10 mins or so... we HEARD something. I saw some underbrush move about 50 feet away from us. Keith heard the underbrush rustle but couldn't see it move. Yeah, we know there are lynx and black bears and a host of other critters there, but the trails were just begging to be trode upon by us that night.
Two streaks of humanity shot out of that clearing so fast I'm sure we broke every world record for speed there ever was. As we were hauling some serious ass I glanced back for a moment and I SWEAR I saw a pair of yellow glowing eyes in the underbrush RIGHT WHERE THE MOVEMENT WAS! If our coach coulda seen us sprinting the last three miles needed to get outta the park, then our ticket to the olympics would've been punched right then and there. We even picked up our speed when I told Keith I saw glowing eyes.
The next day several people who live around the park area reported hearing thunder during the Aurora show, but it was just the sonic boom from two very very fast and frightened kids.
Aww, heck. It was probably just my imagination. Ummmm, when's the next full moon.... (insert twilight zone music).
Food time!
Veggie time: green beans with extra goodies.
This actually has meat in it, but for you vegetabletarians, just don't use the bacon and cook it all up with a tbsp or two of olive oil (you'll probably want a bit of salt though).
What you need:
Half a kilo (one pound) of FRESH, RAW green beans, tips removed
One red capsicum (red bell pepper), seeded and sliced
Handful (metric handful) of peanuts or cashews.
Two strips of bacon
A tbsp or two of peanut butter
What you do:
Cook the bacon in a wok or a good fry pan till it's just done, but not quite crispy. Remove and let cool. Toss the green beans and bell pepper strips into the bacon fat and cook em (fry) for a few mins --moving them constantly, don't let them burn!. Toss in the peanuts or cashews and the peanut butter. Cook it all up till the veggies are cooked but not soggy --stirring and moving them constantly. Crumple up the bacon and toss the bacon bits in at the end.
Serve hot!
It really only takes 5 mins for the cooking, and the prep work can be done while the main dish is cooking. This is a big hit with the clan down here. Even my bro-in-law who doesn't like most veggie dishes loves this.
You're welcome.
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