Yesterday was a chili day. My Brother took me to the grocery store and I got some blade steak to make chili. While I was there I noticed that the store now carries ox tail. Visions of ox tail soup burst ino my mind but I passed on it. Ox tail is full of gristle and fat and bone. The store wants over four dollars a pound for it. The intensity of the flavor of the meat is astounding but four dollars a pound for something that requires so much work is a bit of a stretch for me.
So upon returning home, with a stop at the local comestible store, I started making the chili. The new recipe requires one bottle of lager beer. Unfortunately for the recipe, they don't make one packs. I didn't use store chili powder for the recipe. I got four kinds of chili peppers and whirred them up with some oregano and salt and pepper and cumin and chicken broth and a little flour, and a lot of onions and garlic. The flavor is so much different from store chili powder. There is heat but there is also a barely perceptible piquancy also. Three hours in the oven and the chili is now developing in the refrigerator. I brined the beans and they finally came out soft. I have long produced chili with rock hard beans so it appears that brining is the answer.
I will test the chili later today and probably add more cumin. To me, cumin is the flavor of chili. I always end up adding more. I will bake some corn bread and spend a chilly day having a chili day.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
My Friend
Yesterday was pretty uneventful. I went for a short walk. It was short because it is getting cold around here. The cold is no bother but the wind can make a difference.
So I tucked in and roasted a chicken. Is there anything easier than roasting a chicken? Clean it up, stuff it into the oven, and two hours later it is done. The gravy was good even though I did not have any white wine to add to it. I am growing sage and thyme and basil in the bedroom window, along with the lemon tree (which has dozens of tiny lemons on it) so I stuffed the chicken with fresh herbs and an onion and a cut up orange. Chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans made a wonderful dinner. By the way, Wondra makes making gravy much easier.
I decided to share my bounty with my friend the squirrel. I put a dish of grains and nuts and fruit on the deck, under the overhang so that he doesn't have to worry about the hawk that frequently circles overhead.
For years I fought the battle against squirrels and the bird feeder. Then I began to appreciate the ingenuity of the little rascals. No matter what I did to keep them out of the bird feeder, within a day they found a new way to get into it. My little friend will come to the deck for scraps and water, sit in the railing, and stare into the window at me. The birds simply flit in and out without so much as a "Thank You very much". The squirrel sits on the deck as still as a stone if the hawk is overhead. The deck is grey, the squirrel is grey, so as long as it doesn't move I think that it is invisible to the hawk. The squirrel lives in the attic of the house next door. I often see it scampering across their roof, their grey roof. I don't know if squirrels hibernate but I will continue with the food and water as long as it keeps disappearing. It seems better to feed the squirrel than to put food in the bird feeder to feed the cat.
The squirrel seems to have better control of its bowels than the birds do. It has yet to leave me a little calling card on the porch.
Feeding the squirrel is a small gesture but it feels so good to do it. I wish that I had the resources to feed my fellow human beings. The small contributions that I make to the local food bank and the Salvation Army somehow don't seem to be enough to me. I wish that I could invite the whole human race over for dinner. I would hope that they like little fishy things.
So I tucked in and roasted a chicken. Is there anything easier than roasting a chicken? Clean it up, stuff it into the oven, and two hours later it is done. The gravy was good even though I did not have any white wine to add to it. I am growing sage and thyme and basil in the bedroom window, along with the lemon tree (which has dozens of tiny lemons on it) so I stuffed the chicken with fresh herbs and an onion and a cut up orange. Chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans made a wonderful dinner. By the way, Wondra makes making gravy much easier.
I decided to share my bounty with my friend the squirrel. I put a dish of grains and nuts and fruit on the deck, under the overhang so that he doesn't have to worry about the hawk that frequently circles overhead.
For years I fought the battle against squirrels and the bird feeder. Then I began to appreciate the ingenuity of the little rascals. No matter what I did to keep them out of the bird feeder, within a day they found a new way to get into it. My little friend will come to the deck for scraps and water, sit in the railing, and stare into the window at me. The birds simply flit in and out without so much as a "Thank You very much". The squirrel sits on the deck as still as a stone if the hawk is overhead. The deck is grey, the squirrel is grey, so as long as it doesn't move I think that it is invisible to the hawk. The squirrel lives in the attic of the house next door. I often see it scampering across their roof, their grey roof. I don't know if squirrels hibernate but I will continue with the food and water as long as it keeps disappearing. It seems better to feed the squirrel than to put food in the bird feeder to feed the cat.
The squirrel seems to have better control of its bowels than the birds do. It has yet to leave me a little calling card on the porch.
Feeding the squirrel is a small gesture but it feels so good to do it. I wish that I had the resources to feed my fellow human beings. The small contributions that I make to the local food bank and the Salvation Army somehow don't seem to be enough to me. I wish that I could invite the whole human race over for dinner. I would hope that they like little fishy things.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Thinking
Winter is finally here. There are small snowflakes falling outside and there is ice on the deck. Christmas is approaching. Once more my thoughts turn to an isolated incident of World War One.
On Christmas day, both the British and Germans in one isolated section of the trenches, stopped firing at each other. They got out of the trenches and had a football game in No Man's Land. They exchanged chocolate and tea and displayed pictures of their families. At the end of the day, the horrible carnage resumed.
The next year, the British generals were so afraid that the incident would repeat itself, regulations were put into effect that would insure that the incident would not recur.
That horrible war was brought on by the death of a prince. It was the result of a myriad of secret diplomatic treaties. It was stopped for one day, to celebrate the birth of the Prince of Peace.
Wouldn't it be wonderful if all the war we are involved in at the present could be stopped on the birthday of the Prince. He did later reference the fate of the Peacemakers. He met his fate at the hands of secular and religious leaders. They were afraid that He would give voice to the people and give them peace.
The leaders of his country were unable to deal with Him, so they made a deal with leaders from another country to prosecute Him. (How do you spell Wikileaks?).
The people of the world want peace. Someday their leaders are going to have to step aside and let them have it. Wouldn't it be a wonderful gift to the American people to receive for Christmas, the return of their sons and daughters from violent places of the world in which we have no damned business being in the first place.
Bad things have happened. Do we need to be enslaved by the policies of the past, or might we turn the other cheek and look forward to a future of Peace on Earth? It would certainly be a better birthday present than frankincense or myrrh.
On Christmas day, both the British and Germans in one isolated section of the trenches, stopped firing at each other. They got out of the trenches and had a football game in No Man's Land. They exchanged chocolate and tea and displayed pictures of their families. At the end of the day, the horrible carnage resumed.
The next year, the British generals were so afraid that the incident would repeat itself, regulations were put into effect that would insure that the incident would not recur.
That horrible war was brought on by the death of a prince. It was the result of a myriad of secret diplomatic treaties. It was stopped for one day, to celebrate the birth of the Prince of Peace.
Wouldn't it be wonderful if all the war we are involved in at the present could be stopped on the birthday of the Prince. He did later reference the fate of the Peacemakers. He met his fate at the hands of secular and religious leaders. They were afraid that He would give voice to the people and give them peace.
The leaders of his country were unable to deal with Him, so they made a deal with leaders from another country to prosecute Him. (How do you spell Wikileaks?).
The people of the world want peace. Someday their leaders are going to have to step aside and let them have it. Wouldn't it be a wonderful gift to the American people to receive for Christmas, the return of their sons and daughters from violent places of the world in which we have no damned business being in the first place.
Bad things have happened. Do we need to be enslaved by the policies of the past, or might we turn the other cheek and look forward to a future of Peace on Earth? It would certainly be a better birthday present than frankincense or myrrh.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
A Loss for Words.
Yesterday was a dismal failure for me. My daughter from Florida called. I had not heard from her in quite some time. I was napping on the couch when she called. I was thrilled to hear her voice but I was a little buzzy from the nap and couldn't think of anything relevant to say. I am not usually at a loss for words.
Her voice was full of its usual vibrancy and joy. The conversation soon degraded into "The weather here is cool.", "The weather here is also.".
How my life has fallen into a state of routine, dull, repetition. How could I not think of things to say to this child who has always fascinated me with her incise comments and joy of living? Lives are not just separated by distance. They are separated by age and circumstance and attitude. I miss the sparkling repetoire we used to share. It is a loss of more than words. Care for her and love for her and respect for her will always be in my heart but they seem to have withered on my tongue. Dear Sweet Hanna-Boo, you are always on my mind, what is left of it.
Her voice was full of its usual vibrancy and joy. The conversation soon degraded into "The weather here is cool.", "The weather here is also.".
How my life has fallen into a state of routine, dull, repetition. How could I not think of things to say to this child who has always fascinated me with her incise comments and joy of living? Lives are not just separated by distance. They are separated by age and circumstance and attitude. I miss the sparkling repetoire we used to share. It is a loss of more than words. Care for her and love for her and respect for her will always be in my heart but they seem to have withered on my tongue. Dear Sweet Hanna-Boo, you are always on my mind, what is left of it.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Just a few things
Yesterday my Brother and my Sister-In-Law took me to the grocery store. I wasn't feeling very well but I thought that I might pick up a few things and the trip might cheer me up. Well, the few things turned into a bulging cart full. I have enough food to last the year out. It is so comforting to know that you have enough food to last out a storm. I have a side by side refrigerator and both sides are packed so full that it would be hard to slide a toothpick into them. The cabinets are overflowing.
Cold meatballs and beets sound tasty but the meatballs that I have are Italian and combining them with beets might be a little iffy. I have not made Swedish meatballs in quite a while so thank you for the suggestion and I look forward to doing so.
How do you know if a meatball is Swedish? Drop it on the floor and if it bounces and goes "Dinka, Donka, Dinka, Donka" it is Swedish. If it floats to the floor like Forest Gump's feather, it is a well made Italian meatball.
I purchased a Shank end ham and am looking forward to cooking it. I have done this before and a ham glazed with maple syrup and mustard and pineapple is stupendous. Of course, the problem will be the sheer size of the ham. There will be ham on the menu for many days. All this just to get the ham bone so I can make Swedish Yellow Pea Soup. Yellow Pea Soup with corn bread MMMMMMMMMMM!
Cold meatballs and beets sound tasty but the meatballs that I have are Italian and combining them with beets might be a little iffy. I have not made Swedish meatballs in quite a while so thank you for the suggestion and I look forward to doing so.
How do you know if a meatball is Swedish? Drop it on the floor and if it bounces and goes "Dinka, Donka, Dinka, Donka" it is Swedish. If it floats to the floor like Forest Gump's feather, it is a well made Italian meatball.
I purchased a Shank end ham and am looking forward to cooking it. I have done this before and a ham glazed with maple syrup and mustard and pineapple is stupendous. Of course, the problem will be the sheer size of the ham. There will be ham on the menu for many days. All this just to get the ham bone so I can make Swedish Yellow Pea Soup. Yellow Pea Soup with corn bread MMMMMMMMMMM!
Thursday, December 2, 2010
The Weather Outside Is _ _ _
It is December and the weather is still bright, sunny, and way way above freezing. It is disconcerting. By now the ground should be rock hard and we should have had at least one snow storm. It is a situation that lies uneasy on the mind.
The other uneasiness I am experiencing is a plethora of meatballs. For three days I have been dining on meat and sauce and pasta. My stomach is uneasy and communicating this fact with gurgles and rumblings. I am even considering eating a vegetable or some fruit. Maybe a vegetable and fruit casserole with some nicely browned cheese and bread crumbs on the top is in the future. There is a term for that, French I am sure, but I cannot remember it right now.
Wait a minute, it just came to me. Gratinee.
The other uneasiness I am experiencing is a plethora of meatballs. For three days I have been dining on meat and sauce and pasta. My stomach is uneasy and communicating this fact with gurgles and rumblings. I am even considering eating a vegetable or some fruit. Maybe a vegetable and fruit casserole with some nicely browned cheese and bread crumbs on the top is in the future. There is a term for that, French I am sure, but I cannot remember it right now.
Wait a minute, it just came to me. Gratinee.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Meatain
There is now a mountain of meatballs in the sauce. There is enough sauce and sausages and braciole and pork tenderloin and meatballs and mushrooms and pepperoncini to feed the Third Marine Division or one hungry Italian family. It all amounts to about eight quarts and is reposing in the refrigerator. Luckily I have more pasta than the Ronzoni family does. It is not hard to predict what the menu is going to be for a long, long time. Someday I am going to learn to cook for just one, (sure I am). I will freeze some but I don't know how all of those meats will react to freezing.
The Illiad has a most interesting concept. The concept that prayer follows sin and avarice and pride around the world, a grey, sad lackey to misdeeds. It reminds me of the Flip Wilson routine wherein the Devil tells the minister "Without me, you wouldn't have a job.". People pray for forgiveness. "I am sorry, I didn't know, please forgive me.". What they are really after is mercy. "I knew it was wrong, I deserve to be punished but please have mercy.". Prayer for the wellbeing of others may be the only valid prayer. There is an obverse to almost every situation.
Christmas comes to mind. It is Jesus' birthday, so we all get presents. How would we feel if, on our birthday, all of our friends and relatives gave presents to Jesus instead of us? Dickens comes to mind and the child nestled in the robes of the future.
That a child anywhere in the world should be hungry while I enjoy the cornucopia of America, makes me think that I need mercy more than forgiveness. That a child in America should be hungry is a sin that, someday, someone will have to answer for. Wall Street got mercy, Main Street needs some compassion.
The Illiad has a most interesting concept. The concept that prayer follows sin and avarice and pride around the world, a grey, sad lackey to misdeeds. It reminds me of the Flip Wilson routine wherein the Devil tells the minister "Without me, you wouldn't have a job.". People pray for forgiveness. "I am sorry, I didn't know, please forgive me.". What they are really after is mercy. "I knew it was wrong, I deserve to be punished but please have mercy.". Prayer for the wellbeing of others may be the only valid prayer. There is an obverse to almost every situation.
Christmas comes to mind. It is Jesus' birthday, so we all get presents. How would we feel if, on our birthday, all of our friends and relatives gave presents to Jesus instead of us? Dickens comes to mind and the child nestled in the robes of the future.
That a child anywhere in the world should be hungry while I enjoy the cornucopia of America, makes me think that I need mercy more than forgiveness. That a child in America should be hungry is a sin that, someday, someone will have to answer for. Wall Street got mercy, Main Street needs some compassion.
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