In the Headlights

Reading More, These Days

I recently discovered how easy it is to decide to do a post every few days instead of one or two each day.  Now I understand why some authors sit at their computers at the same time every day and dedicate a certain number of hours to writing.  Otherwise it all unravels so quickly.

Thanks to the folks who noticed I haven't been posting.  I'll blame some of it on my work schedule, and some on an ennui that has descended on me.  Hoping for changes soon.

Today, I'd like to share with you a trilogy I just finished.  Thanks, Bro for the birthday present.  I'd never heard of Kim Stanley Robinson, who is apparently quite prolific.  The "Science in the Capitol" trilogy consists of Forty Days of Rain, Fifty Degrees Below, and Sixty Days and Counting.

The books feature an intelligent take on science and spitirualism, with Tibetan Buddhists figuring side by side with National Science Foundation eggheads.  The character dynamics are charming and intelligent, the political commentary (though it's a novel, many real people are cited, and some of the characters pretty transparently represent real people.)

The books are intelligent without being condescending.  Love and betrayal, espionage and spiritual enlightenment are woven throughout.  There are many LOL moments, and many more thoughtful bits.

The background is the global warming crisis, and weather catastrophes figure prominently. These books, however, propose to actually DO something about the weather.  It goes through national and global political hoops to suggest some scientific suggestions (Would they work?  Who knows?  It's a novel.) to try to combat and reverse rising carbon dioxide levels. 

I marked many passages, here's one, near the end of the final novel.  The Panchen Lama (the one chosen by the Chinese, who is in exile) is speaking with Frank and Charlie, two of the books' main characters about reincarnation.  Frank has just said that the Dalai Lama claims to be just an ordinary man.

"I am even more ordinary, as you know."

"So why should you continue to believe you are the reincarnation of some previous person?"

"We are all such.  You know---one's parents."

"Yes, but you're talking about something else.  Some wandering spirit, moving from body to body."

"We all have those too."

"But identifiable, from life to life?"

Drepung (Panchen Lama) paused, then said, "I myself think that this is a heuristic device only."

Charlie laughed.  "A teaching device?  A metaphor?"

"That's what I think."...

"And what does that teach us?" Frank asked.

"Well, that you really do go through different incarnations, in effect.  That in any life, your body changes, and where you live changes--the people in your life, your work, your habits.  All that changes, so much that in effect you pass through several incarnations in any one biological span.  And what I think is, if you consider it that way, it helps you not to have too much attachment.  You go from life to life.  Each day is a new thing."

All this spiritualism and a good recipe for a marinade too, from President Phil Chase's blog:

"What I do is mix soy sauce and a dry white wine about half and half, and then add a big dash or tarragon vinegar, and some heaping spoonfuls of brown sugar, and a tablespoon of olive oil, about a teaspoon each of ginger and mustard powder, and a dash of garlic powder.  Mix that up and the longer you marinate things in it the better but just dipping in it will do too.  Best on veggies, chicken and flank steak.  Sear the meat and then cook at a lower heat."

I loved these books.  Hope you will too.

Alice, Let's Eat

I love to eat.  I love to read.  I live to read.  I live to love.  I eat to live.  I eat to ...read?

Anyway, they're pretty important aspects of my life, so no surprise that I love reading Calvin Trillin.  After reading About Alice a few months back, I picked up a few other Trillins that I had missed.  This was one. 

It's a republication of a book of articles originally published in 1978.  I wouldn't have known it if I hadn't looked at the flyleaf.  The material is as fresh and fun as if it had been penned last month.

The theme is more or less that Trillin yearns to try every good meal (particularly regional delicacies) in every good restaurant he reads about (and his agents are everywhere) as his lovely wife tries to limit him to three meals a day, and occasionally attempts to get him to diet. 

The most mentioned restaurant is Arthur Bryant's in Kansas City, famed for its barbecue, but he is on no less a quest for the best fried chicken or country ham.  He also seeks out Dungeness crab and oyster loaf, pizza and barbecued mutton.  And just about every type of food to be found in Louisiana, though most of it is ingested in New Orleans.  He does eat some things I wouldn't touch with a barge pole, but it just goes to show that chacun a son gout.  Imagine the accents where they belong.

It is part travelogue, part food journal, part intimate portrait of a marriage.  Alice herself is a gourmet cook (married to a gourmet/gourmand, what's not to like there), who is addicted to good food, particularly dessert, and most particularly, chocolate. 

The real amazing thing here is that I have never seen photos of Calvin or Alice Trillin where they look the least bit overweight.  That's the real secret I'd like to discover.

[Image from Barnes & Noble, where they also have an interview with Trillin.]

Bush Dinner

A fundraiser for George W.  NOT!

Just got back from White Oak a little while ago.  What a wonderful weekend.

The first evening, after touring the research and veterinary facilities, and watching Hazari and Kafir play tug-of-war, we all changed into nice-casual and boarded two river boats to take us to our bush dinner.  The trip took about an hour at dusk, and we were treated to wine and some great appetizers on the trip.

These photos were taken with my ATT Tilt phone.  I didn't have pockets or carry a purse, and didn't want to lose my camera.  We had chicken breast chunks spiced with a dry rub and cooked on a grill, with a great taragon dipping sauce.  There were plantain chips and a kind of sweet guacamole that was very good.  Finally, there were skewers of rubbed beef chunks interspersed with chunks of orange and grilled.  Never had grilled orange before, but it tasted great.

 

We finally reached our destination, The Brickyard, which is on the far end of the White Oak property.  As we approached, we could see fires along the shoreline.  There was a huge bonfire at the site, with about ten formally set tables.  Peripherally, there were several shallow pit fires as well, so even though it got chilly out, we were never cold.

Besides, the alcohol flowed like, well, like wine. (I can't find the menu, though I could have sworn I brought one home.  This is from memory.)   The first course was floured sauteed perch chunks.  Next came a soup with vegetables and spicy peppers.  The main course included two kinds of meat:  quail and venison.  Both were delicious.  I'm usually a bit leery of venision, having eaten some gamy meat on occasion.  This was rare, and tasted delicious.  Dessert was a passion fruit mousse.  Light and tasty.  Each dish was designed to have some African connection, since White Oak is dedicated to animal conservation and is involved in some projects in Africa.  The guest for the weekend is Laurie Marker who runs the Cheetah Conservation Fund, based in Namibia.

Happy Birthday, Sandy

For Sandy's birthday Wednesday, she, Kathie and I went out to dinner.  We went to a restaurant called 1171, which opened recently.  Kathie'd been there for another birthday celebration, but it was the first time for Sandy and I.

The decor was modern and warm, the service was friendly without being smothering.  They had Hendrick's gin, so I had a very good dry gibson, straight up.  (Thanks for driving, Kath.) 

The food was excellent.  Sandy and I had appetizers;  she ordered escargot, I had scallops and polenta.  The others had salads that were so big, I got to help with those.  For dinner, I got butternut squash risotto.  I've made risotto before, but it never turned out to be as good as wonderful as I'd heard it should be.  This was.  There was the option of adding a piece of protein, and I got a piece of ahi tuna, rare.  Yum.  Sandy had homemade spinach fettucine with scallops and shrimp, and Kathie got braised shortribs.

After splitting a decadent chocolate dessert, we left the restaurant in time to see the beginning of the lunar eclipse.  We opened Kathie's moon roof so we could watch it on the way home.  By the time we got back to my house, it was about half eclipsed.  It was beautiful to watch.  Strange that the edge being eclipsed seemed to have a fuzzy, ragged quality.  It looked like a mouse was taking bites out of the side of it.  Kathie speculated that it was because the surface of the Earth, which was causing the eclipse, is irregular.  Maybe the ragged quality was caused by the shadow of the Andes or the Himalayas.  I don't know, but it was neat.  It started clouding over after awhile, so I gave it up, but it was great while it lasted.

Nice of the moon to do that for Sandy's birthday.

[Image from Garden Detective]

Land Shark Lager

Tried this lager at the reception following Michael Feldman's Whad 'Ya Know at the Florida Theater Saturday.  It was great with a sandwich and some pasta salad.  And it's brewed right here in good ol' Jacksonville.

The bottle is cool, with a large shark fin featured prominently, and the lager tasted cold and crisp going down.  It is bottled by the Margaritaville Brewing Company.  It is featured in Jimmy Buffett's Margaritaville and Cheeseburger in Paradise restaurants.

So I was a bit chagrinned to read Robb Zerr's review of Landshark Lager in The United Nations of Beer.  Not only did he not particularly like the lager, which he picked up at a Wal-Mart, he divulged that his detective work uncovered the fact that it is actually brewed by Anheuser-Busch.  I have no strong feeling about that, aside from a bit of disappointment.  But he tells us they go to great pains to hide the fact.  Indeed, I closely inspected the bottle yesterday, and must admit that from the information on the bottle, it appeard to be a small independent brewery in good ole Jax.

Ah well.  I've had greater disappointments.

Sauerbraten

We had it Sunday night, and the house still smells like it.  Of course, that may be because I just nuked a large bowl of sauerbraten and noodles for my dinner.  Yum.

I put it on to marinate the Wednesday before.  I used a London broil, about two inches thick.  You can use a sirloin roast or any meat without too much marbling.  If you use a very tender cut, it will dissolve, and not taste anywhere near as good. 

I put the meat in a bowl, and sliced over it a medium onion, and three cloves of garlic.  Then I added a couple of bay leaves, about ten peppercorns and ten cloves.  Then I covered the meat with a red wine and red wine vinegar mix, about two or three parts wine to one part vinegar until the meat is pretty much covered.  Then I put a lid over it (plastic wrap works well, too).  Every day, I'd turn it to make sure all sides were well soaked.  You can marinate it at room temperature for a few days, the vinegar will keep it from spoiling.  That's how Mom used to make it.  If you want it to marinate less quickly, you can refrigerate it.  I kept it on the counter for a couple of days then refrigerated it.  You can also put it in a large plastic bag and rotate that now and then.

On Sunday, Julie and I took the meat out of the marinade and let it sit on paper towels, then dried it with more towels, to make sure it browned well when we put it in the pan.  We heated a Dutch oven over high heat, and added some canola oil.  While Julie browned the meat, I strained the marinade, retaining the spices.  After the meat was browned, we removed it from the pan, turned the burner to medium-high, and added the onions and other spices, stirring them until the onions were translucent and tan in color.  Then we added a couple of tablespoons of flour and stirred that for a couple of minutes, then added the wine and vinegar mixture, stirring to incorporate the flour and brownings.  At this point, salt and pepper it to taste.  It will require a fair amount of salt to taste right.

We returned the meat to the marinade, and simmered it for about two hours, during which time we played poker and drank with my folks.  Julie cleaned up.  The rest of us lost.  I never realized my cousin was a card sharp.  Yesterday, we had lunch at the folks' and played poker again.  Julie won.  The rest of us just snivelled.

We had the sauerbrated with noodles and cucumber salad.  Mom brought cauliflower au gratin, and made crepes Suzette for dessert.  Then we all fell into a coma.

(We got so busy setting the table and getting everything together at the end, I forgot to take a picture of the final product.  Trust me, it was good.  Still is.)

Name Your Poison?

When L.C. asked me if I knew what a Vesper was, I said "Sure, one of those 2-cylinder European cycles that gets 100 miles to a gallon."  She assured me that she didn't have an accent, and wasn't talking about Vespa, but Vesper.

I knew it was a canonical hour, that's about it.  Actually, Vesper refers to the evening, particularly the evening star, Venus.  It also is a bell rung in the evening, an evening service, the sixth canonical hour or its service, held in the evening, or a part of the Roman Catholic office to be said in the evening.

But that's not what she meant either.  She meant Vesper the drink.  Well, I thought I knew my drinks pretty well, but this had me stumped.  It seems a vesper is a drink James Bond had a bartender make him in Casino Royale, described here in Esquire (the whole article's pretty good):

3 ounces London dry gin
1 ounce vodka
1/2 ounce blonde Lillet

Lillet, apparently is a French aperitif wine which is mixed with two strong clear spirits (gag me), and then shaken or stirred, depending if you are pro- or anti- Bond, and then strained into a champagne flute and garnished with a lemon twist.  Sounds pretty girly to me.

L.C. and Stryder had been in Vegas and met a young woman at a bar who was drinking vespers.  And apparently was sober enough to describe what went into them.

[Image from Bond Lifestyle.  Looks like a martini glass to me.  He specifically asked for a champagne flute.  I think he'd send it back, don't you?] 

The Brush-Off

I mentioned that the other day, Sandy and I had pizza.  When she came over, she brought a carton of mushrooms so we could festoon our frozen pizza (Publix brand, self rising...very good) with peppers, onions and mushrooms and extra cheese.  Plus the pepperoni that was already there.

Sandy watched me as I scraped off bits of dirt from the mushrooms before slicing them onto the pizza.

"They're grown in a sterile medium" I said in answer to the question on her face.  I hope I'm right.

I recall the time decades ago in Miami Beach when Texas Bill was at our house for dinner.  Bill often worked as a cook/chef and we'd often cook together.  He was aghast, one time, watching me wash mushrooms, insisting that they should just be brushed off and not washed.  I was equally aghast at the thought of eating dirt.

Since then, I phased through washing them, then letting them dry, to my now blase attitude of getting most of the dirt off and just going ahead with the recipe.

The problem is that mushrooms absorb water, diluting their flavor and texture, as well as that of the dish they are being added to.  A not insignificant problem.

I've been surfing the 'net looking for confirmation that the growth medium is sterile.  I can't imagine all these advocates for eating actual dirty dirt, but I can't seem to find it.

There are plenty of sites telling me where to buy a mushroom brush, though.  Maybe I should make that investment.  Messy Gourmet points out that there are general purpose kitchen tools, that do many things, none well, and then there are specialized tools that do one and only one thing well:  melon ballers, cherry pitters, mushroom brushes.  M.G. adds that the real question is not whether you need a mushroom brush or lemon zester, but how much drawer space you have in your kitchen.  My drawers are jam-packed, but maybe I should get rid of a pizza wheel or garlic press to make room for one of these babies.

[Image through Amazon]

Food Bill

I thought this was very interesting.  Laura sent it with the comment that she was counting her blessings.  Every day, I see people who are much more unfortunate than I am, though the folks in these pictures seem okay.  As I stress about the job, the traffic, the price of gas or repairing a broken appliance, or the speaker on my cell phone, I should remember that I am healthy, have a nice house, a warm bed, a full belly when I crawl into that bed.  I need to let go of the rest.

These pictures are of what these families typically eat in one week, along with the cost of that food.  It's pretty eye-opening.

Sicily:  $260.11.

Germany:  $500.07.

United States:  $341.98.

Mexico: $189.09.

Poland:  $151.07.

Egypt: $68.53.

Ecuador:  $31.55.

Bhutan:  $5.03.

Chad:  $1.23.

It is interesting to note that some of the smallest families have the biggest budget.  Budget also correlates with the amount of meat and processed foods, as well as the level of development of the nation.

French Onion Soup

In the South, you are supposed to eat black-eyed peas and greens for luck on New Year's Day.  In my family, we have always carried on a tradition that is from my mother's side of the family:  French Onion Soup, the hot, bready, cheesy kind.

I made it and took it to the folks' house.  And to make sure there was plenty for leftovers, I used six pounds of yellow onions.

I don't know if you have ever sliced and cooked six pounds of onions.  It is a daunting task.  For it, I hauled out my mandolin.  Red and I bought it years ago.  After a lot of shopping (hard to find, back then) we found it at a restaurant supply house.  And I had to order the finger guard separately.  After all the time and expense, I found I almost never use it.  It does have one perfect application, however, and that is French onion soup.  The mandolin is just hard enough to assemble and clean (not real hard, just hard enough) that I rarely bother unless I am making something in volume.  In this case, I was.  Also, it was important that the onions be uniformly sliced, something I find hard to achieve with a knife or a food processor.  I only sliced off one fingernail doing it, too (which stayed on by a thread, so I didn't have to hunt for it)...I sliced them about 3/4 without the guard, then did all the ends one after another using the guard.

Six pounds of onions, sliced thin
4 ounces unsalted butter (one stick)
1/4 cup olive oil
2 quarts chicken broth
2 cups beef broth
1 cup red wine
Bay leaf
Thyme, salt and pepper to taste
Cognac or dry sherry (optional)
Stale French Break
Grated Emmenthaler or Gruyere cheese (lots)

Melt the butter and olive oil under medium-high heat until bubbling, and add onions.  Saute, stirring frequently, until golden brown.  Add broth, wine and spices.  Simmer over low heat for 30 minutes. 

To bake, put soup in oven-proof bowls and top with 3/4-inch thick slices of baguette, then a handful of cheese.  Bake at 350 degrees until a light brown crust forms.  Serve.

You may also put it under the broiler to prepare quickly (make sure the soup is hot first.)

I looked at the Cook's Illustrated version before I started.  They suggest using red onions, mixing chicken and beef broth, and adding the red wine.  They also suggest a combination of Swiss cheese (Emmenthaler or Gruyere) and Asiago.

Whatever.  I was happy about the broth combination, since I forgot to buy it when I got the onions, and didn't have a critical mass of either alone.  My onions were yellow, my cheese was Emmenthaler.  The results were delicious.