Musical Geography Trivia Question of the Day

If you huff and puff and you fin'ly save enough money up to take your family on a trip across the sea, where do you go?

Finally

I just got out of my final exam for my Cooking Theories/Baking class. In 90 minutes we have deep hurting cleaning of the bake shop and the Renaissance Room (our student-run restaurant), and I have one take home final in Writing, but it's gonna be a snap -- for the most part, the term is over, and I'm no longer a First Year student. Yay! Words can't describe how excited, relieved, and exhausted I am.

Some irony though:

I've hated this term... well, not hated it -- I've enjoyed the Ren Room, but the bake shop has really been a challenge. I am less passionate about and less confident in myself while baking than any other type of cooking, and while I did learn the basic skills, this term did little to change my perspective on baking. Or so I thought. Last night I found myself taking a chance I never would have dreamed of before this term.

During the evening shift at work, I overheard the chef talking to the head waitress. He was telling her which desserts were 86'ed, and it was most of them. Apparently, the pastry chef doesn't work weekends, and so on Sunday they're pretty low on options.

I had already spoken with the chef, and let him know that now that school's out, I need more hours. He's doing his best to find me shifts that don't conflict with our ability to acquire daycare for The Lad. So when he came over to the dishpit to discuss it with me further, I broached the subject: "I overheard you talking, and understand you don't have a Sunday pastry chef?"

"No, I don't"

"You know, I spent the last two months in the bake shop at school."

"I know. It's a possibility. We'll see what happens."

So there it is. I may end up wearing a pastry chef's hat at least one day a week. And the weird part is, it kind of excites me.

Hopefully I'll be posting more often now that school is out. I do rather miss blogging regularly.

Last Hurrah

As of today, I have exactly one year left of being "thirtysomething" (Lord, I remember thinking that was the dumbest title for a show ever). And to top it all off, today is day two of the practical assessment finals for this term. A whole day of being graded on how I perform in the bake shop -- my least favorite part of the culinary arts.

Happy Friggin Birthday to Me.

Well, I DO Mix a Mean Cocktail (for an Amateur)

A tip of the toque to Ken at It Comes in Pints?


Only one nit to pick -- a proper martini is stirred, never shaken.

Your Score: William Powell

You scored 19% Tough, 28% Roguish, 19% Friendly, and 33% Charming!

You are the classic rogue, a stylish rake with the devil of a wit and a flair for mischief, and you shake your martinis to waltz time. You are charming and debonair, but slightly untrustworthy, and women should be on their guard. If married, you are simply a bit of a flirt, even if it's just with your own wife...but if you're single, watch out. You usually rein yourself in to concentrate on one lovely beauty at a time, but with you, we never know. You're an inviting partner, but there's a playful devil behind your eyes, and those trying to get close to you should know they're playing with fire. You're stylish and fun, but you follow your own course, which may or may not include a steady gal. Co-stars include Myrna Loy and Carole Lombard, classy ladies with an adventurous streak.

Find out what kind of classic dame you'd make by taking the Classic Dames Test.

Link: The Classic Leading Man Test written by gidgetgoes on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the The Dating Persona Test

Two Thousand a Day

That's approximately how many children, on average, are reported missing in the US. Every day. And that's just here in the US. Most are quickly reunited with their families, but we know too painfully the stories of those who aren't -- the ones who are found dead, or worse, are never heard from again.

Today is National Missing Children's Day. As a parent, this is a cause near to my heart. The idea of The Lad going missing, of anything happening to him, curdles my blood. Every time I see a story in the news about a missing or abused child, I want to go pick him up and hug him -- but usually he's asleep.

Please take a moment to check out these links. Consider doing something to help, or at least, please, be aware and look out for the kids in your life:

National Center for Missing and Exploited Children
Missing Kids UK
Interpol
Child Focus

$74.30

That's the amount listed on the check in my wallet right now. It's a paycheck for one day's long work, plus tips -- the servers at this restaurant take care of their dishwasher. So do the cooks, for that matter, but their generosity goes straight into my belly.

That's not a lot of money, is it? It's roughly 1/4 of what I was receiving in unemployment benefits (while they lasted). But here's the thing:

I earned it.

That's the first time I've been able to say that in 10 months, and it feels damned good.

Good Wine, Better People

I get to be a hero this week, thanks to some former members of my father's church.

It began this last Thursday. At the beginning of class, we met with the two second year students who are executive chef and sous chef for this week's fundraising buffet dinner. The theme is Northwest cuisine, all local ingredients and flavors. One of the featured dishes is buffalo brisket braised in Pinot Noir. My chef instructor was bemoaning the fact that none of the local wineries here around Eugene would donate the two cases of Pinot needed for the dish. The alternative facing them was to buy a case of Pinot, and make up the rest of the volume in boxed Merlot. [shudder]

I raised my hand and explained that I knew some people who owned a winery and would see what I could do. One phone call and a call back later, and it was arranged. We drove the hour and a half down to Tenmile today, and now there are two cases of Pinot sitting in my garage, waiting to go with me to school this week.

So if you get a chance, and like good wine (and better people), and live somewhere where it's sold, pick up a bottle from Girardet Wine Cellars. Here in Oregon they're sold in Fred Meyer, among other places, and they're available in other western states as well. In addition to their Piont Noir, I highly recommend their Baco Noir, which is an earthy, fruity, full-bodied wine that is surprisingly versatile for a red, and their Grand Rouge, which does a great impersonation of a Cotes du Rhone, for a good price.

Losing My Religion

As many of my readers and friends know, I am a devout Single Malt Scotch Whisky drinker. It is almost, you might say, a religious devotion to me. The problem is, the Scotches I prefer are rather... pricey, to say the least. A great way to forestall alcoholism, but frustrating nonetheless.

In order to compensate for this, Ive let my love of Scotch lead to a general affinity for whiskies, with Irish and Bourbon whiskies playing second fiddle to Scotch, and Canadian a distant fourth. While I still like them, Ive considered them slightly inferior -- not necessarily in quality, but at the very least in my palate and preference. Until tonight.

I was called in to work to shadow the regular dish pit guy, in hopes I'd learn a few things that will help me avoid the weeds tomorrow and in the future. I DID pick up some time-saving pointers, but also discovered some duties I left undone last week, simply because I was not made aware of their existence. But that's beside the point.

The point is that after my shift, I went out to the bar for a drink. a patron was feeling magnanimous and picked up my tab for one drink, so I decided to try a Bourbon that the bartender recommended to me last week.

Dear Lord...

I hope my highland ancestors can forgive me. I've found a Bourbon that is, at least to my tongue, on a par with a good single malt. Ladies and gentlemen, I commend to you: Woodford Reserve. This is a small batch Bourbon, and I drank it in a highball, with a single cube of ice -- as God In Heaven intended. It wasn't peaty and earthy and smoky, the way I prefer my Scotch, but it was smooth, rich, and complex -- this whisky had something going on, and it was something good. The deep reddish-amber color, the easy way it rolled down my tongue -- I was drinking silk.

I am still a Single Malt man. There's something fierce and tribal about a dram of Uisge Betha. But for a sipping whisky that manages to come across as a bit less musty, but still just as distinctive and indepentend, you'd not go wrong by pouring yourself some Woodford Reserve.

Get Offal

A tip of the toque to Maximum Leader at Naked Villainy.

Mike links to a great site on the use of offal in cuisine, Offal Good. The tasty that that got his attention? Porchetta di Testa -- marinated and braised pig's head. Looks good. My experience with offal is limited, but I'm curious. I tried marrow at Christmas and loved it.

Colored Threads

[Editor's Note: This was an essay I submitted this term for my writing class. It received an A, so I thought I'd share it here.]

I didn't know that I grew up poor until well after the fact, having been blessed with very resourceful parents. For most of my childhood, my father was a pastor serving in small churches in rural communities in Oregon and Idaho, and I don't ever remember a time when he wasn't doing other odd jobs to supplement the family income – grocery clerk, electrician, day laborer. My mother often worked outside the home as well, and in addition, she was a wonderful homemaker. She sewed clothes for us, gardened and canned the fruits of her labor, and was an extraordinary bargain hunter. My parents' deep faith and dedication to their congregations made them respected in the community, and people often expressed their appreciation with material and financial help in times of need. The combination of faith and resourcefulness meant that we always had our needs met, and often enough, would manage to squeeze out just a little bit for fun. And sometimes, what seemed like enough to get a little ahead turned out to be just what we needed to get by.


I remember the year the congregation passed the plate to give my father a Christmas bonus. The bonus was around three hundred dollars – not a lot, seemingly, but for a poor family in the late 1970's, it was enough to make a difference. Just what kind of difference, we would soon find out. We were heading to San Diego as usual to visit my grandparents, and the extra money meant a visit to an amusement park and perhaps a nice restaurant for my parents. Somewhere on I-5 south of Stockton plans changed when the family station wagon stopped running. We managed to pull off of the freeway and came to a stop at an abandoned gas station, which thankfully still had a working pay phone. After a phone call and a “quick” tow into the Central California town of Firebaugh (several miles off the freeway), we soon learned that the timing gear was shot, and we'd be spending the afternoon there. While my father stayed with the car, my mother looked after me and my sister. That day happened to be the day that Santa Claus visited town on the back of the town's fire truck, the closest thing Firebaugh had to a Christmas parade. He was passing out brown paper lunch bags filled with candy, peanuts, apples and oranges, and my mother managed to wrangle several extra -- that was our lunch. The repairs to the car took most of the afternoon and the exact amount of the gift from the church. There wasn't a penny of that check left, but it got us to San Diego and we had a grand time nonetheless.


Perhaps part of the reason my parents worked so hard to not only provide for us, but also to conceal the lengths they had to go to in order to do so, had to do with my father's own youth. His mother had died when he was five, and his father, heartbroken, took to the bottle and to the road. The family lived in countless places all up and down the West Coast, practically homeless an often hungry. Life didn't get much better for my father and his siblings until his teenage years when a family in Lorane, Oregon, took them in. The Rothages gave them love, a home, and responsibility, and my father and my uncle especially became fine young men thanks to it. But his childhood influenced my father's outlook on poverty for the rest of his life, and he did his best to make sure my sister and I were shielded from it.


The signs of our own humble upbringing were there, but my parents went to great lengths, even sacrificial ones, to downplay them. Every year when school started in the fall, my parents bough us new clothes and school supplies. Christmas and birthdays, while never the extravaganzas of excess we expect today, always included enough presents, both from my parents and maternal grandparents, to ensure a happy day. We had wonderful family vacations, we went to the fair, we even occasionally went to see a movie. What I didn't see were the sacrifices my parents made – doing without luxuries that they might have wanted, even making their own necessities stretch further, to give us kids what we needed (and sometimes what we wanted, as well). As a child, I didn't recognize the significance of the multicolored thread I noticed on the inside of my father's suit jacket. But I understand now. Instead of buying a new suit to wear to church, he had had my mother mend his old one numerous times, the money that might have gone to a suit instead going to God only knows what – trumpet lessons? Cub Scout dues? Groceries? Just what I had because he went without, my father never revealed, and I'll never know.


I was reminded of all of this when I was called upon in an earlier writing assignment to submit a photograph and write about what it made me think of. The picture is from a year ago. In it I am standing in my grandparents' house in Southern California, holding my son who was at the time fifteen months old. On the wall behind us hang several pictures of my ancestors. In that picture, I could see myself making a connection with them as I held my own son. Seeing them recalled to me my own father and reminded me of what he had done; seeing my son reminded me that I now understand why he did it. As a parent, I would willingly, gladly make the same kind of sacrifices for my child.

The Beast Within

A tip of the toque to Ken at It Comes in Pints?

I don't know what sickens me more -- What this monster did or what I want to do to him in response.

It's Been a While...

since I posted a recipe. Mostly because all of the recipes I've been using lately have been the ones assigned to me at school, and none of them are of my own doing.

But today I had a chance to do it my way. My team is on the bake shop/dessert station rotation in the Renaissance Room. I was inspired by one of the desserts served at the restaurant where I work, and though I didn't have their recipe, I had a basic recipe from school that I was able to modify, and created the following:

Mexican Chocolate Creme Brulee
Serves 8

4 ounces dark chocolate, coarse chop
3 ounces pasteurized egg yolks
1 whole egg
3 1/2 ounces sugar
24 ounces heavy cream
1 teaspoon rum
2 teaspoons cinnamon
granulated sugar

In a large stainless steel bowl combine the egg yolks, whole egg, sugar, rum, and cinnamon, whisk until smooth.

Place chopped chocolate in a double boiler and melt over simmering water. Do not overheat.

Place heavy cream in a heavy saucepan and heat over medium heat until you see steam begin to rise. Remove from heat and stir in melted chocolate until completely combined.

Slowly pour the hot cream and chocolate mixture into the egg mixture to temper it, whisking it as you go. Continue until all ingredients are well combined.

Pour through a fine sieve into a large pouring container. Let stand for 5-10 minutes, skim off any foam.

Pour into creme brulee dishes (large ramekins will do) to just below the rim. Place in a shallow water bath and bake in a preheated 350 degree oven for 30-35 minutes, until set. Remove from oven, let stand for a short time and then remove from the bath, taking care not to splash water on the creme brulee. Cool, cover and refrigerate.

Just before serving:

Sprinkle a thin layer over the top of the creme brulee. With a lit torch, slowly melt the sugar until it begins to cramelize. Move the torch back and forth across the sugar and pull away if necessary to avoid burning the sugar. Serve.

The results were pretty good, though I think I'm going to tweak a couple things. For one, I tried using turbinado (raw) sugar instead of whiote sugar for the crust, but the big granules would burn on the outside before they'd melt on the inside, so we switched to white sugar. Tomorrow I'm going to try putting the turbinado in the food processor to get it finer, because I do like the flavor profile. Also, I'd love to try a Mexican liquor, maybe some Kahlua or something. Just not tequila. But I'm open to suggestions.

Fred Thompson Says "No Moore".

A tip of the Toque to my old and dear friend The Reverend Professor.

Fred Thompson responds to Michael Moore from breitbarttv on Vimeo

That's gonna leave a mark. I so hope Fred runs.

Burn, Baby, Burn!

I spent my first shift ever working in a restaurant last night, doing dishes from 4 until almost 2 last night. Long shift, longer than it should have been, just because I'm still a rookie and it was Mother's Day -- we were slammed. Unlike the line, in the pit, the closer you get to closing, the deeper in the weeds you get.


As you can see, I also got my first professional injury -- a beauty of a burn, almost second degree, from a saute pan that shifted in the bus tub I was carrying.

I even got a chance to do a tiny bit of prep, cutting limes for garnish.

The head chef told me at one point that I am the kind of employee he likes -- the kind he can ignore. I replied that that is my philosophy -- as long as the boss doesn't want to talk to me, I must be doing alright. He said if things progress well, I'll be doing prep work before long.

All in all it was a good first day. And as small as it will be (working one shift a week), I'm looking forward to my first actual paycheck in almost a year.

Musical Geography Question of the Day

What happened back in the bad old days in the heat of a summer night?

I GOT A JOB!!!!!

Starting this Sunday I'll be washing dishes at El Vaquero, one of the nicer restaurants in town. Doesn't sound like much, but once the school year ends, I'll be available for more hours, and everyone starts in the dish pit -- the fact that I'll be washing them in such a nice place is a leg up in this industry.

Musical Geography Question of the Day

What's the town that knew me when?

Just Remember...

Illegal Aliens only want jobs and a chance at the American Dream, and it is unreasonable to want to secure our borders.

What I'm Reading for Leisure

When I find the time:

Faithful - Stewart O'Nan and Stephen King

As a lifelong baseball fan and Yankees hater, this book about Boston's 2004 has intrigued me since I saw it in the window of a local used bookstore. Today I saw it marked down to $5, something even I could scrape up, so I broke down and bought it. I've no idea when I'll get to read it, but I'm looking forward to it.

In Case You Were STILL Wondering...

Oh yeah, one more bit of good news. A week or so ago, there was an event here (it's an annual thing) in Eugene called Chef's Night Out. It's a fund raiser for Food for Lane County. People pay $65 to enter the event, at which they stroll around and sample various offerings from some of the best restaurants and wineries in the area. Then they vote on the ones they liked best. Our LCC Culinary team won the Best Sweet Bite award for our chocolates, tartlets, and cream puff swans.

In Case You Were Wondering...

Yes, I'm still around, and yes, I'm still doing AND thinking about more than musical geography. But school this term is crazy -- between lecture and lab, I'm in class 27 hours a week, though that's for only 14 credits. Add on top of that the time I spend caring for The Lad, and life's pretty darn hectic. But I thought I'd take the time to give you an update on all things culinary:

24 of those hours and 10 of the credits are spent in two classes: Cooking Theories 3 and Restaurant Lab.

Cooking Theories 3 is the third term of our class on basic cooking techniques -- sort of Chef 101. This term the focus is the bake shop and professional baking, and I've learned quite a few things, the most important of which is that I'm not going to be a baker.

Restaurant Lab, well, is pretty self-explanatory. We run the Renaissance Room, a student restaurant that is open for lunch Monday through Thursday (two days a week per group -- I'm in Group B). We're split into teams, and we're rotated by team through the different stations, including (*shudder*) the front of the house (I don't understand why they don't include Hospitality Management students in the Ren Room and put them up front, but eh... at least I have some knowledge of the front). The first week of term we weren't open. The second week, I was in the bake shop. Then the front. It wasn't until last week that I was finally rotated to the front line, and actually got to do some savory cooking. I didn't realize how much I'd missed it.

This week I'm on the back line. Today I had the priviledge of making the Amuse Bouche, which got rave reviews. Usually we take whatever tasty odds and ends we have available and throw them together for the amuse. One of my classmates recently made some pancetta and bacon, and had taken the pancetta trimmings and smoked them. For today's amuse, I took crostini and topped it with sundried tomato pesto, sliced smoked pancetta, and Manchego cheese, then baked it off. Tomorrow I'm the Potager, and I'm making the Northwest version of slumgullion (or at least the definition of it that my father taught to me) -- a soup based on New England clam chowder but with shrimp (and in this case, bay scallops) added. The clam chowder recipe I'm using calls for salt pork, but given the Western variation of it, I'm going to use bacon (or maybe some more of that smoked pancetta. Mmmm.... smoke....).

One last thing, a request for your prayers and well-wishes. Since I was laid off in July, I've been on Training Unemployment -- due to my status as a displaced worker, they've been paying me a stipend to go to school. That ran out several weeks ago, and things are tight. This past two weeks we've been getting by on about $50 worth of groceries, and last month's rent check bounced. This month's rent and daycare pretty much finishes off TFR's check, so we're back in the hotseat. But due to one of TFR's guests at work, I have an interview with the GM and the Executive chef of one of the best restauranteurs in twon, who is opening a new restaurant in two weeks. Please pray I can get the job, and please pray we manage to keep the wolves at bay.

Musical Geography Trivia Question of the Day

If they're a band of men brave, stout and bold, and they have a leader to the fold:

1. Who are they?
2. From where did they come?
3. What was their leader's name?

Study To Show Thyself

A tip of the toque to Maximum Leader that Naked Villainy.

I'm not exactly a bible scholar, but considering the following, it should be not surprise that I know who Nimrod was:

You know the Bible 100%!

Wow! You are awesome! You are a true Biblical scholar, not just a hearer but a personal reader! The books, the characters, the events, the verses - you know it all! You are fantastic!

Ultimate Bible Quiz
Create MySpace Quizzes

Musical Geography Trivia Question of the Day

Though it may be harder for you to see me, what place am I?

Musical Geography Trivia Question of the Day

Where did stars and steel guitars and luscious lips as red as wine break somebody's heart?

Quote of the Week

"Laws that forbid the carrying of arms ... disarm only those who are neither inclined nor determined to commit crimes. Such laws make things worse for the assaulted and better for the assailants; they serve rather to encourage than prevent homicides, for an unarmed man may be attacked with greater confidence than an armed one."

-Thomas Jefferson, Quoting Cesare Beccari's "On Crimes and Punishment"

Read more here. Despite my issues with him, I think Lars nails it in this essay.

Paging Anthony Bourdain...

... your Pimp Hand is needed at the Food Network.

OK, I'll admit that I ceased being a Rachel Ray fan a long time ago. It's not bad enough that I've never spent $40/day on food while on vacation in m entire freaking LIFE, but the fact that every damned thing she eats gets a reaction that would make a pr0n star proud gets on my nerves.

But tonight's 30-Minute Meals was the last straw. The woman took a porterhouse steak and smothered it in a pizza-style tomato sauce with pepperoni.

You heard me, a porterhouse. Cut from the loin. Bigass king of steaks. Treated like a freaking CUBE steak.

Someone needs to B**** slap her. She should be grateful that Anthony's on another network.

Where Have You Gone Ghirardelli Flicks?

A Nation Turns its Hungry Teeth to You, Woo Woo Woo...

This evening, TFR and I I were watching the Food Network, and the show was on candy. It got me thinking about two candies I miss from my childhood:

Ghirardelli Flicks. These were chocolate chips on steroids; stealth kisses. They were round chocolates, with a curved tip like a chip or a kiss but flatter and bigger round. They came in cardboard rolls similart to TP tubes but smaller, wrapped in colored foild paper. According to one of the websites I visited, Ghirardelli's packaging equipment was damaged when they moved to San Leandro, and that's their excuse for not selling them anymore. Considering that another company now makes and sells them, it seems like a lameass excuse. I do miss them so.

The other candy was:

7-Up Bars. Made by Pearson Candy of Minnesota, this was a filled cany bar, and each section of the bar was filled with a different flavored filling. Unlike Flicks, none of the specialty nostalgia candy makers is selling them.

Musical Geography Trivia Question(s) of the Day

1. Who met Texas Red at 11:20?
2. What did he wear?
3. In what town did this occur?

Musical Geography Trivia Question of the Day

How many of you who sit and judge me have done this?

Has Anyone Seen My Breath?

I'm trying to catch it.

Spring Term started Monday, but our first day was spent at the Food Show (a trade convention) in Portland. Tuesday, I had Cooking Theory 3. This term the focus is baking, my weak point. Class is from 11:00 until 5:30 with one half hour break. That's my Mondays and Tuesdays. Wednesdays and Thursdays, class is only from 8:30 to 2:20, but there's no break -- we're in the Ren Room, running an actual working restaurant. Tomorrow I have writing from 9:00 until 11:30. And Tuesdays through Saturdays, I care for the Lad while TFR is at work. Once I start looking for a job next week, things will get hectic. Did I mention homework?

The other night we weren't that hungry, so we had a snacky-type meal of roasted garlic spread on toasted sourdough, then lightly salted and dipped in olive oil and aged balsamic vinegar. Guess who was craziest about it? Yup, The Lad.

He's getting so big. He turned 2 in January. He's talking up a storm, his vocabulary getting bigger every day, and he can count to 7. We've started approaching the topic of potty training, but it hasn't really started in earnest yet.

Mighty Mouse

TaJuan Porter:
True Fresman
5'6"
8-12 From behind the arc.
33 Points
And thanks to him, Oregon is in the Elite 8 with their best record since the 1939 team won the very first NCAA Championship.

Monday Reading Assignment

Christopher Hitchens at Slate.

R.I.P., Van Winkle

Counterfeit philosophies have polluted all
of your thoughts.

Karl Marx has got ya by the throat, Henry
Kissinger's got you tied up in knots.

When you gonna wake up,

when you gonna wake up

When you gonna wake up and strengthen the
things that remain?

- "When You Gonna Wake Up?", Bob Dylan, Slow Train Coming

That's the song that came to mind when I read this editorial by Salena Zito. It echoes the sentiments put forth in this editorial from the German newspaper Die Welt, which was just recently emailed to me.

The German editorial was in 2004. Salena's was this week. Same message, still being ignore.

9/11

Theo Van Gogh

Darfur

When ARE we gonna wake up? And will it be too late?

Short

A few thoughts at hour 23 of a 24-hour fast:

There are too damned many food commercials on TV.

Coffee tastes great when you aren't eating, but leaves you edgy.

There are too damned many food commercials on TV.

It's interesting how much we take not only food but eating for granted. The only time I almost slipped up and ate was when I was feeding The Lad and caught myself pooping one of his cashews in my mouth -- I spit it out, but the thing was, I didn't even think before doing it.

There are too damned many food commercials on TV.

TFR asked me if I've been thinking about the troops or my stomach, and I told her both. All day I've used each pang of hunger as a prompt to reflect on what our troops go through for us, like some sort of digestive rosary.

There are too damned many food commercials on TV.

The closer it gets to 24 hours, the more aware I am of my hunger -- exponentially. I can't help but compare this to the feeling soldiers get when they're "short" (close to going home).

There are too damned many food commercials on TV.

In Under Three Hours...

I'll be starting a 24-hour fast. The idea was given to me by Lemon Stand, who participated earlier this year in the Tanker Brothers' Rolling Victory Fast.

The idea is to have everyday Americans spell each other and each fast for one day so that the fast "rolls" indefinitely. It's a symbolic gesture to let the troops know we believe in them and what they're doing for us, that we support them, and that not all Americans side with Cindy Sheehan and her crowd who claim to "support the troops but oppose the war".

So from midnight tonight until midnight tomorrow night, it's nothing for me but tea, black coffee, and water. During that time I'll be reflecting on the sacrifices our troops make for our peace, freedom, and safety. When my tummy rumbles or my mouth waters, I'll compare that minor inconvenience to the danger, the deprivation, and suffering they endure for me and mine.

On the advice of the gang at Tanker Brothers, I went to the Any Soldier website to pick a soldier from an Oregon unit to dedicate my fast to. I chose Staff Sgt. Don Hoxsey. He's an Idahoan serving in an Oregon NG unit. Since I'm from Oregon but spent my childhood in Idaho, that's appropriate.

But I'm also dedicating it to my father, my grandfather, my uncles and cousins who all served in the Army, the Navy, the Marine Corps, and the Air Force. Thank you for doing what I wanted to but couldn't -- representing our family in our country's uniform.

Black Boxing It

OK, so next week is finals week, and that means you should be hearing from me more often, ONCE that hell is over.

This week we have practical assessment finals. In Cooking Theory, that means performing specific taskes and cooking a preset meal. In Concepts of Tastes & Flavours, it's a bit more fun -- and challenging -- a Black Box, which means a bunch of product is put in front of us and we have to decide how to cook it. Today was prep day in both classes, tomorrow we cook & plate.

Here's my and my partner's menu for Tastes & Flavours:

Appetizer:
Mushroom caps stuffed with Kalamata & Anchovy Tapenade

Main Course:
Aerleon Chicken Breast marinated in olive oil & Mediterranean spices
New Potatoes sauteed with bell peppers & onions
Blanched asparagus in white wine vinaigrette

Wine:
Chardonnay

"O" Yeah!

Pac-10 Champs, Baybee! Take me to the Dance!

Musical Geography Question of the Day

In what city would you find a few red lights and a few old beds?

God is in His Heaven

And all is right with the World:

You Are 0% NYC

At best, you're a tourist. At worst, you're a poseur.

How NYC Are You?

There's a reason I choose to live west of the Cascades.

A tip of the toque to The Llama Butchers.

Musical Geography Trivia Question of the Day

If she has a cherry ice cream smile, where does she dance?

Just Remember...

Only white people are racist.

Thought for the Day

Some mornings it's just not worth gnawing through the leather straps.

Quote of the Day

"People are more violently opposed to fur than to leather because it's easier to harass rich women than it is motorcycle gangs."

- Bumper Sticker

Come Back

Shane Bobgrrl, Come Back!

Musical Geography Question of the Day

If your car's got an overdrive that just won't stall, what mountain pass are you crossing?

Bullet the Blue Sky

No, not the U2 song.

If you like Bourbon & Coke, I highly recommend this combination instead: Bulleit Bourbon and Blue Sky Natural Cola. Mmmmmmmm...........

Learning Curve

There's a new Barbecue joint in town, it's called the Howling Coyote. That brings to 5 the places I know of in Eugene that make real pit smoked barbecue -- three sit-downs (Howling Coyote, Hole in the Wall, and Papa's Soul Food Kitchen) and two walk-ups (Tony's and this place I saw in passing this week but didn't catch the name of). We've tried three of them: Hole in the Wall is ok, but it's way overpriced and it's a bit on the dry side. Tony's kicks serious smoky ass. H.C. is good food, but the service is lacklustre (I'm surprised to realize that, while I'm committed to being the best chef I can be some day, when I'm a customer, I'm more critical of poor service than of disappointing food), and the meat portions are small for what you pay. Papa's Soul Food Kitchen has an awesome reputation, but so far it's always been closed or SRO when TFR and I have wanted to go. Crowds and a 2-year-old do no mix well. The last place is a mystery.

We ate at H.C. tonight -- TFR had been there, I had not. The food was good -- the Brisket was moist and tender, though the smoke ring was a might thin for my taste, and given that I paid $9.00 for a platter that was served on plastic, I expected a little more than the 4 oz. or so of it I got. TFR's ribs were good -- I'd argue that my Brisket beats theirs, but their ribs beat mine, especially if you like dry style.

But here was the part I found amusing, and revealing regarding the learning curve here in Eugene rtegarding good barbecue. When we got there, they had run out of pulled pork, and before our food arrived the chicken disappeared too. By the time we had finished eating, the ribs and brisket were gone, and they were closing down -- twenty minutes ahead of time. As we were paying the check, a young man walked in, and got huffy when told they were closing. As we walked out the door, we saw a couple getting out of their car. We let them know that they were closed because they were out of meat. It took them a minute to get it... "Didn't they just open for business recently?"

Folks, this is BARBECUE. They smoke this meat for 12-14 hours. As I'm typing this, they're loading in the Boston butts and briskets that will be eaten tomorrow afternoon. They're making estimates NOW about how much business they'll get TOMORROW. It's not like a regular restaurant where they fire the food when you order it. It's being fired now, and tomorrow, when it's gone, it's gone. Just like happened tonight.

I've heard of places in Texas where people will stand in line for an hour or more, and even then be taking their chances -- often they'll get to the front of the line only to be informed that the food is gone. Are you serious about barbecue? Then you get there EARLY. That's the way it's done.

A few people get it -- this is, after all, the destination location of the Great Migration, people have over the generations moved here from all over, and are still arriving, and those people bring with them the cultural knowledge of their place of origin. But Eugene has a lot to learn about Barbecue.

An empty stomach is a small price to pay for knowledge.

Pondering Life's Deeper Mysteries

What ever happened to Love Potions Numbers 1-8?

Musical Geography Question of the Day

From where was a brave young Indian you should remember well?

Musical Geography Question of the Day

Where is there a shadow on the door?

Boy Howdy

A Tip of the Toque to Professor Chaos for this idea. I'm going to try getting back into the swing of blogging by starting a new feature: Sous What?, a semi-regular post in which I will answer some culinary question posed by a reader. Bearing in mind that I'm still a culinary student and not a culinarian yet, let alone an actual chef, some questions will require I do some research before answering. But this weeks question, posed by the aforementioned Professor Chaos, I can answer now:

What's the difference between a marinade with a base of water vs. having a base of oil?

The main differese is that water-based marinades, and their close relatives brines, will dry food, especially red meat, out more than oil-based marinades. This is largely due to the salinity of the marinades (hence the term brine). Fat, which is what oil is, just vegetable fat, preserves moistness. It seems counter-intuitive, but that's how it works, especially with grilling, frying and sauteeing. Add some acid to cut the fat -- red wine, citrus juice, and vinegar being the top three options.

That's not to say that fatless marinades don't have their place. If you plan to use a moist heat cooking method, such as braising or stewing, dryness isn't going to be an issue.

And there are, of course, exceptions to every rule. Slow cooked food is the exception in this case. Alton Brown recommends brining turkey to make it moister. Smoked fish is brined then dried, creating a layer called a pellicle that retains moinsture in the meat. And when I barbecue brisket, I marinate it in a fatless marinade, but one that's fairly low in salt, and it's further mitigated by the way the meat is cooked -- fat cap up, so all that yummy fat melts into the meat. But for leaner cuts of meat, and cooking on a grill or stovetop, I'd go with an oil-based marinade.

CORRECTION:

My Chef Instructor has made it clear to me that brine-based marinades and brines CAN be used on thinner cust od meat, but the amount of time they're used is decreased -- any longer and drying will occur. The general rule of thumb is 1 lb. of salt per gallon of water, which results in a brine of about 20% salinity. This salinity is optimized for penetrating 1/2" of meat per side per hour. That means an inch-thich steak is being penetrated from both sides and needs on 1 hour in the marinade.

Musical Geography Question of the Day

If She's workin' four to twelve at Trucker's World tonight, where are you?

Scotland The Brave

A la the Dropkick Murphys.

Something to Blog About

You were all right. All it took was something to talk about.

The culinary and food service industry has one of the highest, perhaps the highest, rates of charitable giving, volunteerism, and community activism of any industry in the country. One of the things I appreciate about the culinary program at LCC is that while they're teaching us the basic skills to become cooks, they're also instilling in us the mindset of chefs. Today was a prime example. We didn't have regular classes, but rather spent the morning and afternoon at a charitable event called Project Homeless Connect, sonsored by Food for Lane County, providing the bulk of the food service. I was assigned to the grill, and with the help of another first year, grilled 800 burgers in 2 1/2 hours. I've learned a few things recently, from both today and from school in general:

1. Radiant Heat CAN cause burns.
2. Some grease doesn't come out no matter how much bleach or hydrogen peroxide you use.
3. When you're the one doing the cooking, it doesn't matter how low on the totem pole you are, if your runners don't keep up, YOU ARE WITHIN YOUR RIGHTS TO KICK THEIR ASSES.
4. For an industry that involves a lot of fast-paced hard work, when things go wrong, you can end up working even harder and faster, or you can end up doing a lot of waiting... isially the latter, then the former.

Doldrums

You may have noticed a significant lack of posting on my part over the last few weeks. I'm afraid it will go on for some time, and may even become permanent.

Part of the problem is, obviously, time. This term makes last seem easy, and it's only going to get more hectic from here on out. Betwen school, homework, being a dad, and being sick, I haven't had much time to blog.

Part of the problem is a lack of inspiration. Nothing seems to make me want to blog these days. Politics? Blah. Everyone's minds are made up: left, right, middle. We're not going to convince each other, all we're doing now is marking our territory. I'm still committed to my convictions, and I'm just as committed to voting those convictions, but I've seriously begun to question the usefulness of pontification about it here on this blog. Food? I'm spending hours every day studying it, talking about it, making it, I kinda want a break from it here. The Lad just turned two, and there's plenty I could say about that, but that's about it. There are plenty of issues in my life I could talk about here, and in fact would LOVE to vent about in a blog, but the problem is, people who know me in person read this blog, and I don't want everyone I know knowing everything about me. It would be nice had I maintained some anonymity, and could use this blog as catharsis, but that's not the case.

So there it is. I've grown fond of the interaction between myself and my readers, especially my fellow bloggers (I'm looking at you, Naked Villainy, Llama Butchers, Ken and Emily, Bobgirrl, Eugene Rants, Nightfly, and a host of others!), but I wonder if I've run out of things to say.

Can You Say Swamped, Boys and Girls?

Throughout toe first Term plus of Culinary School, it's been interesting to observe the difference between learning a new concept, and experiencing a new concept. What we are taught in the classroom, we actually do in the lab.

This week's culinary concept which I learned last term but only truly experienced for the first time yesterday?

In the Weeds.

Changing of the Guard

Final:
Indianapolis Colts 38
Monkey On Their Backs New England Patriots 34

Indianapolis was down 21-3 at one point, making this the biggest conference championship comeback in NFL history.

Having spent a couple of years in college in Fort Wayne, and still having friends from Indiana, I've watched their hearts break time and again as the Colts have come so close but fallen short, more often than not brought low by the Patriots. I can only imagine how much sweeter this championship must be because of the team they beat.

Congratulations to the Colts and their fans -- enjoy the Miami sunshine.

For Everyone Who's Endured High School Lit Class Movie Day

A tip of the toque to Maximum Leader at Naked Villainy:



Peter Sellers reciting the Beatles a la Olivier as Richard III

Friday, Fishday

Since it's Friday, I decided to cook seafood for dinner, and I decided to go with slumgullion.

Slumgullion originally was a word to describe a watery meat stew, and comes from the California Gold Rush, but a more modern western U.S. meaning of the term is a soup made similarly to New England Clam Chowder, but including other seafood as well as the clams. It is a chowder well suited to Oregon's seafood. Here's the recipe I used:

Ingredients:
6 oz. Dungeness crab meat
6 oz. shrimp meat (I use the tiny sweet shrimp native to the Oregon coast)
4 0z. bacon
2 lbs. clams in shell (I actually only used 12 oz., but the only shortcoming of the final dish was a lack of sufficient clam chunks)
1 cup heavy cream
1 cup whole milk
3 tbsp. butter
1 cup sweet yellow onion, small dice
1/2 cup celery, small dice
2.5 lbs Russett potatoes
salt to taste
pepper to taste
fresh thyme to taste

Mise en Place:
stock pot
2 large saucepans (3 quart or bigger)
wooden spoon
paring knife
chef's knife
Chinois or mesh strainer
non-reactive bowl
ladle
cutting board

Place the potatoes in one of the saucepans and fill with enough water to cover. Bring to a boil over high heat, reduce heat and simmer until fork soft. Blanch, peel, and cut large dice.

While the potatoes are boiling, place an inch of water in the stock pot, bring to a boil, add the clams. Boil for 5 minutes and drain, straining the water through a chinois or mesh strainer into a bowl. Chop the clams and rinse, removing the stomach grit.

Cut the bacon into half-inch pieces. In a second large saucepan, render the bacon and add the small diced onion and celery, sweat until clear. Deglasse with 1 cup of the clam water and transfer to the stock pot. Add the clams, shrimp, crab meat, potatoes, cream, butter, remaining clam water and milk, simmer for 1 hour, adding salt, pepper, and thyme at the half hour mark.

Makes 6-8 servings.

I made a simple parmesan toast to go with it, and paired it with a Chilean Sauvignon Gris, which was wonderful, but any white wine with a citrus component would go well with it.

Heh

A tip of the toque to best friend Lurch, who forwarded me this e-mail. It's apocryphal but amusing:

A New Orleans lawyer sought an FHA loan for a client who lost his house in Hurricane Katrina and wanted to rebuild. He was told the loan wouldbe granted if he could prove satisfactory title to the parcel of property being offered as collateral. The title to the property datedback to 1803, which took the Lawyer three months to track down.

After sending the information to the FHA, he received the following reply (Actual letter):

"Upon review of your letter adjoining your client's loan application, we note that the request is supported by an Abstract of Title. While we compliment the able manner in which you have prepared and presented theapplication, we must point out that you have only cleared title to the proposed collateral property back to 1803. Before final approval can be accorded, it will be necessary to clear the title back to its origin."

Annoyed, the lawyer responded as follows (Actual Letter):

"Your letter regarding title in Case No. 189156 has been received. I note that you wish to have title extended further than the 194 years covered by the present application. I was unaware that any educated person in this country, particularly those working in the property area,would not know that Louisiana was purchased, by the U.S., from France in 1803, the year of origin identified in our application. For the edification of uninformed FHA bureaucrats, the title to the land prior to U.S. ownership was obtained from France, which had acquired it by Right of Conquest from Spain. The land came into the possession of Spain by Right of Discovery made in the year 1492 by a sea captain named Christopher Columbus, who had been granted the privilege of seeking a new route to India by the Spanish monarch, Isabella. The good queen, Isabella, being a pious woman and almost as careful about titles as the FHA, took the precaution of securing the blessing of the Pope before she sold her jewels to finance Columbus ' expedition. Now the Pope, as I'm sure you may know, is the emissary of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, and God, it is commonly accepted, created this world. Therefore, I believe it is safe to presume that God also made that part of the world called Louisiana. God, therefore, would be the owner oforigin and His origins date back to before the beginning of time, the world as we know it AND the FHA.

I hope you find God's original claim to be satisfactory. Now, may we have our damn loan?"

The loan was approved!

Woo Hoo!

Snow Day!

Gwynn In

I never doubted it for a moment. Tony Gwynn has been elected to the Hall of Fame in his first year of eleigibility with 97.61%, seventh highest vote in history.

As a lifelong Padres fan, Gwyn epitomized Baseball for me. He was a technically excellent hitter -- I remember a poster Nike had that had a schematic diagram of the perfect hitting stance fading into a photo of T. Gwynn. He's also Mr. San Diego -- he played his high school, college, and pro ball ALL in the city of San Diego, and now he coaches for his Alma Mater, SDSU. He was good natured, a sportsman, an gentleman, a humble guy, and a humanitarian. If you look up the word "nice" in the dictionary, there's his picture. He was a gold glove fielder, and the quintessential team player -- on at least one occasion foregoing salary raises he could easily have merited so that the Pads could fit a needed deal in under the salary cap.

Congratulations, Tny, you deserve this honor, and I'm proud to say I was there in the Murph on numerous occasions to witness your stellar career.

Mmmm M!

Two or three items of epicurian interest to report/recommend:

1. For the most part, I prefer to buy and pair local wines when I cook and stock my rack, especially aince I cook so may locally flavored dishes. However, I'm not above enjoying wine from ther sources, and my Sister-in-Law gave us a great wine for Christmas -- as much as this pains me to say, an excellent California wine: Campus Oaks 2003 Lodi Old Vine Zinfandel, from Gnekow Family Wineries. It's a full-bodied red, but it's not as acidic and dry as a lot of big reds I've tried -- it's softer than a Cab or Merlot, but fuller than a Pinot. It has a lot of fruit and berrie accents, and is incredibly smooth and mellow -- The SIL paired it with prime rib on Christmas Eve, and that worked well, but we had our bottle by itself, without food, and that worked well -- it's not sweet, but it was vaguely reminiscent of Port, and I imagine it would go well with a dessert, especially chocolate.

2. For my local readers, the new Market of Choice in South Eugene is open and amazing -- the architecture is very Northwest, it's clean, well-stocked, and the staff is friendly. If you decide to grab a nosh from the Deli, I highly recommend the Cheese Steward's Pannini: Thin-sliced Black Forest Ham, Gruyere, Brie, and smoked Gouda on a perfect bread -- the crust so crisp it shatters when you bite into it, and an interior so light you swear it'll float away.

3. While I was there, I tried a sample of some Bela brand Portuguese sardines packed in a tomato sauce -- delicioso! The salt of the sardines offsets the acid of the tomato nicely, and the mild seafood taste is nowhere nearly as fishy as you'd fear. they were served on saltines, but I think a water cracker or toasted baguette slices would be better, since the sardines don't really need the extra salt. I'm also thinking they would be great in a salad, though I haven't give much thought to what kind.

True to my Word(s), I'm Eating Them

Each of us puts foot to mouth from time to time, and that's just what I did in my post excoriating Smallholder. It was obvious to everyone but myself that the post was meant to be tongue-in-cheek, and since then, personal emails from Smallholder and others at Naked Villainy have confirmed that the snark was aimed at a personal friend, not a political figure.

I was wrong, and I'm sorry.

Numbskulls and Bones

The Good Shepherd had some good parts as well, but once again, elements of the plot were lacking. What I found most intriguing was the portrayal of Skull and Bones, a secret society at Yale University. The Good Shepherd, ostensibly a movie about the founding of the CIA, takes on an umistakable homoeroticism when the Bonesmen are on the stage. Who knew that an organization that counts Presidents among its ranks could be so thoroughly, thoroughly queer.

- Smallholder, Naked Villainy

SH (a man I once respected) goes on to make a snarky remark about "knowing someone in the organization". Apparently, he thinks that because a movie portrays things as being a certain way, that makes them so (aka "The Syriana Effect"). That explains a lot about his positions on a lot of topics.

It's the Size of the Fight in the Dog

Oklahoma University 42
Boise State University 43
Final

As a native of the Pacific Northwest, and a former resident of Idaho, my congratulations to the Broncos. To the Sooners, I ask, what's your excuse this time?

And to the Sports Reporter who spoiled the BSU player's surprise when he proposed to his girlfriend, you, sir, are a schmuck.

Auld Lang Syne

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

and never brought to mind ?

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

and auld lang syne ?

For auld lang
syne, my dear,
for auld lang syne,
we’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

And surely ye’ll be your
pint-stowp !

And surely I’ll be mine !

And we’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,

for auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne,

my dear, for auld lang syne,

we’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,

for auld lang syne.

We twa hae run about the braes,

and pou’d the gowans fine ;

But we’ve wander’d mony a weary fit,

sin’ auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne,
my dear, for auld
lang syne,
we’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

We twa hae paidl’d in the burn,

frae morning sun till dine ;

But seas between us braid hae roar’d

sin’ auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne,
my dear, for auld
lang syne,
we’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

And there’s a hand, my trusty
fiere !

And gies a hand o’ thine !

And we’ll tak a right gude-willie-waught,

for auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne,
my dear, for auld lang
syne,
we’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

- Robert Burns

Happy Hogmanay to all my friends, family, and readers.

QOTD

"I cook with wine, sometimes I even add it to the food."

- W.C. Fields

Hurt So Good

Further proof that any song he sang, he owned.

Room Service for Mr. Hussein....

Your justice is served, cold as ordered.

Faith and Begorrah!

A Tip of the Toque to Robbo the Llama Butcher:

What Kind of Cross are You?

You are the Celtic Cross: This cross was first made out of stone and is often found atop hills, in front of castles and in graveyards throughout Ireland and Scotland. The stone was carved with various symbols including a circle or halo (representing eternal life) and variations of the celtic knot.
Take this quiz!








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Musical Geography Question of the Day

Because I know he will get it in a heartbeat, Vic is forbidded from playing this round, but gets an automatic win -- this one's for second place, folks:

If you're going to go ahead and wreck your health, where are you going?

Good to the Bone

Based on an earlier recipe I tried almost 2 years ago, I porceeded to take responsibility for the preparation of Christmas ham this year. My new glaze was 2 cups of water, brought to a boil and then steeped with 2 Stash brand Chai Spice Decaf Tea, simmered for 8 minutes. To this I added a 12 oz can of OJ concentrate, 1/2 cup mollasses, 1/4 cup honey, 1/4 cup bourbon, and 1 cup ginger ale.

I covered the bottom of the pan with rosemary sprigs, and added water just up to the top of the sprig layer. The bone-in, spiral cut ham was placed on top of this, open face down, and prepared with bay leaves and cloves inserted into the cuts. More rosemary was placed over the top, and it was roasted at 300 degrees for 15 minutes/pound, with the glaze being added throughout.

I must say, it was quite well received, and I was pleased with the results. The ham came out so succulent that I decided to try something I've been curious about since starting culinary school. Based on the results, I have two pieces of advice if you cook a ham this way:

1. Try the marrow.

2. Don't let your wife or sister-in-law see you.

The Lad's Aunties are Evil

Christmas.

Noisy toys.

'Nuff said?

Not quite, one more thing:

Payback.

RIP

President Ford has passed away. He was 93, the oldest-lived of any U.S. president. God rest his humble soul.

Pun Fun

Has it been that long?

Anyway, I've decided to develop a new cartoon super-villain. It'll be a giant sentient rodent who takes delight in letting the air out of people's tires so they can't escape.

That's right, he's... Deflater Mouse!

Bait and Which?

Almost thou persuadeth me to respond, Smallholder.

But again you have made the same mischaracterization of my position which you have made every time this point comes up, and I have ceased believing that is unintentional. As long as that happens, I refuse to respond to the body of your post. You're going to beat a straw man every time, why should I bother defending the poor inanimate agrarian mannequin?

Update (12/23/2006):

Can anyone guess what that mischaracterization is? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller?

I See Plot Devices

After the discussion in Emily's post about the big news in the world of scatology... er... scamology... er... sciencefictiony...... degenerated into a discussion of really bad moviemaking in general, Nightfly was inspired.. or something.... to pen this little ditty to the tune of "Road to Shambala".

Feel the groove, man.

The Th*tanic Verses (Or is that Bend it Like Xenu?)

A tip of the Toque to Emily at It Comes in Pints?

A new movie is in the works. Obligatory couch-hopping to ensue.

I've been Ambush Tagged

By the Llama Butchers.

1. Egg nog or hot chocolate?

Oh, yes please. Don't forget the wassail, the hot spiced cider, and the hot buttered rum.

2. Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree?

Depends on the physical bulk of the gift. Usually he wraps them, but if, for instance, the gift is a bike or wagon, a simple bow will do.

3. Colored lights on tree/house or white?

Colored on the tree, white on the house.

4. Do you hang mistletoe?

Sometimes.

5. When do you put your decorations up?

As soon after Thanksgiving as we have a chance to, though this year that wasn't until Dec. 11th. Living here in Oregon, trees are VERY fresh when we get them, so they last a good long time.

6. What is your favorite holiday dish (excluding dessert)?

Crackers, beef stick, port wine cheese, and other snacky stuff. It has always been a tradition in my family to forego a real meal on New Year's Day, and instead nosh on hors d'oeuvres all day while watching the Rose Parade and bowl games.

7. Favorite holiday memory as a child:

Christmas tree hunting. Again, growing up in the Pacific Northwest, where evergreen trees are so abundant, we never BOUGHT a tree. We always drove up into the hills/mountains (back in those days you didn't need a permit) and cut one ourselves -- always from BLM land, never national forest or provate land. My mom would pick the tree, and my dad would cut it down and haul it back to the vehicle. More often than not, my mom would make my dad traipse across the hillside for an hour before finally returning to the first tree we'd spotted, and often the ideal tree was the top 7 feet of a 20-foot-tall tree.

8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa?

My parents never told me he really did exist, so I don't ever recall an Earth-shattering moment of revelation to the contrary. This is currently a bone of contention in our household, since TFR grew up in a family that to this days perpetuates the myth among its children. I don't want to play up Santa Claus to The Lad, but TFR has won on this one.

9. Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve?

Yes. In my family, it was one gift Christmas Eve, all the rest on Christmas Day. We've adopted TFR's family's tradition, which is to open gifts between family members on Christmas Eve, and Santa gifts Christmas Day.

10. How do you decorate your Christmas tree?

When I was a child, my parents started a tradition of giving my sisterand me one new ornament each year. A few were lost or destroyed over the years (moves, flooding, etc.), but most survived. When each of us married, those ornaments went with us. Lo and behold, TFR grew up with a similar tradition, and we're carrying it on with The Lad. Therefore, our tree is covered in an eclectic variety of ornaments. As for the exat process, we start by stringing lights (including two strings of light shaped like Winnie-the-Pooh and friends), then the garland, and then ornaments. Every few years, TFR lets me indulge in icicle tinsel.

11. Snow! Love it or dread it?

Love it, almost never get it. TFR hates it, except at Christmastime (a result of her Minnesota upbringing).

12. Can you ice skate?

I've seldom had a chance to, but took right to it when I tried.

13. Do you remember your favorite gift?

The used copy of BH Liddel-Hart's A History of the Second World War given to me by TFR our first (very poor) Christmas together.

14. What's the most important thing about the holidays for you?

Time spent with friends and family. I'm a very social person, and since moving back to Oregon, I've made few friends and often find myself very very lonely. The holidays often are the only time I am with a large number of people about whom I care deeply.

15. What is your favorite holiday dessert?

Homemade caramel corn.

16. What is your favorite holiday tradition?

Reading the gospel account of the nativity on Christmas Eve.

17. What tops your tree?

A star.

18. Which do you prefer, giving or receiving?

Giving. And when it comes to receiving, it's all about the surprise. No matter how small the present is, if it's unexpected and thoughtful, that's more important than how expensive it is.

19. What is your favorite Christmas song?

It's a tossup between O Come All Ye Faithful, Silent Night, and O Come, O Come Emmanuel.

20. Candy canes:

Mmmmm.... Love 'em. I used to give them out to customers when I worked as a parking lot attendant.

21. Favorite Christmas movie?

Scrooged.

22. What do you leave for Santa?

We don't, yet. At TFR's family's, it's the traditional milk and cookies, and carrots for the reindeer.

Consider yourself tagged, Ken at It Comes in Pints, Bob at Eugene Rant, and the Nightfly.

Do the Math

A tip of the toque to my best friend Lurch.

It has to be heard to be believed.

Santa's Downfall

Say "No" to this cuteness:



Go ahead, try.

Sympathy for the Devil

Whatever else you think of Martha Stewart, you have to give her this -- the B knows how to throw down when it comes to libations.

'Tis the season to be jolly, indeed.

Musical Geography Question of the Day

If he keeps his pocket full of spending loot, from where is he?

I Lied to Myself

After a stressful first term readjusting to life as a full-time student, I told myself I didn't care about my actual grades, as long as I passed.

I lied.

Grades are supposed to be posted tomorrow, but mine were available today. I got a B in Cooking Theories I (a 6-hour course), a B in Human Relations in the Workplace, and an A in Restaurant Operations (both 3-hour courses), for a GPA of 3.25.

I'm pissed at myself for the B in Cooking Theories. That's the core cirriculum of the program, the foundation of everything else. And I could have had an A, if I'd finished one more cooking lab.

I'll do better next term in CookingTheories II.

Gives a Whole New Meaning to Ho! Ho! Ho!

A tip of the Toque to the Bling Blog:

Pimp My Nutcracker.

Seasons Beatings

A tip of the toque to Tree Hugging Sister at Coalition of the Swilling via Ken at It Comes in Pints?

Not only is Dennis Miller dead on right, he's the only man I know who could pull of references to Ronnie Lott and capers in one monologue.

Single Malt/Latin Dance/Ballroom Dance

If anyone knows what's up with Haloscan, drop me an email.

Wreck the Halls

You're not alone, Robbo.

Since last Christmas was The Lad's first, it was spent in Minnesota, where TFR's family lives, and my mother, as well as my sister and her husband (all of whom live in Michigan) met us there. Because we left on the 18th and didn't return until after New Years Day, we didn't get a tree for our place. That means the last time we had a tree and did serious decorating was Christmas of 2004, and the last time we put AWAY Christmas ornaments and decorations was some time in January of 2005 (Hey, we're not as bad as SOME people). We have color-coded Rubbermaid containers for our decorations and ornaments, but by the time they were filled, we didn't have room left in them for our lights. Money was tight, and (more importantly) I was feeling lazy, so instead of going to the store and getting another container, and rather than risking the lights in a flimsy cardboard box, I decided (despite TFR's protests) to store them in an old Samsonite hardside suitcase. I tied red and green ribbon on the handle (so I'd remember what was in them), and stored them in the attic (you see what's coming, doncha?).

Fast forward almost two years, to yesterday evening. We spent the afternoon after church driving out to a Christmas tree farm in Veneta, because the proceeds of the sales there yesterday went to our church youth group's mission trip this spring. We picked out a 7' douglas fir. Usually I would prefer a white or noble fir, but because they were for a fundraiser, and fresh cut, the trees were higher priced than we usually pay -- the doug alone cost $25.

So we got home, got the living room rearranged, and the tree set up, and I went to the garage to get out the Christmas decorations. I got all of the boxes out, and began to panic. Why?

You guessed it -- no lights. I searched high 9the attic) and low (the garage), but no lights. I eventually gave up and went to bed.

This morning I started again with the search, and ended up doing a yeoman's job of cleaning the garage in an attempt to find the missing box of lights (box, mind you), all to no avail. TFR even questioned whether I had truly looked through ALL of the boxes in the garage and attiv.

After about an hour, and at wit's end, it suddenly dawned on me what had happened. I clambered back up into the attic, dug out the suitcase, and let out a triumphant whoop as soon as I saw the red and green ribbon. I hauled it down and lugged it into the house, putting a triumphant spin on things when I declared, "See? I TOLD you I looked in all the boxes!"

The Old Guard Loses One of Its Finest

I heard the news from Ken at It Comes in Pints?

America's Thatcher is gone. Requiescat in pace, Jeane Kirkpatrick.

It's Its

A while back I made a common grammatical mistake, but one I should not have, and a good friend called me on it.

I have atoned:

Your Language Arts Grade: 100%

Way to go! You know not to trust the MS Grammar Check and you know "no" from "know." Now, go forth and spread the good word (or at least, the proper use of apostrophes).

Are You Gooder at Grammar?
Make a Quiz

A tip of the toque to Robbo of the Llama Butchers.

Musical Geography Question of the Day

What could you walk across with five steps down, and where?

The Light at the End of the Tunnel is Usually an Oncoming Train...

... But hopefully, not this time. I finished my finals on Monday, and go in this morning to make up some kitchen lab work. One final was easier than I expected, the other harder, so, it balanced out.

I also just received confirmation that I passed the ServSafe exam we took back in November. The ServSafe certification is a food handling safety and sanitation certification that is accepted in all 50 states in lieu of a food handler's card, and is in fact more stringent than many state standards (and no LESS stringent than any). Passing that is a make or break for the program.

Now I just need to scrape up $900 so I can pay the rest of this term's tuition and register for winter term.

Crow for Coyote

Army 14
Navy 26

You were saying?

Early Holiday Wishes

Usually I wait until this coming Friday to extend this special holiday wish, but the mood has struck me tonight:

GO

!!!!!

BEAT
ARMY
!!!!!

Did You Get That Memo?

Apparently, not.

I received an e-mail today from a (still bitter, apparently) Sooners fan. I thought I'd share, and respond here:

just found your blog looks good. the reason to
email i wanted to know ifthat phony call against the sooners was worth it seeing
how your seasonended up. at least i hope your a honest duck fan not many of them
you willagree the sooners got screwed. hell the repaly offical quit because he
newthey blew it. keep up the good writing and by the way
BOOMERSOONERS!!!!!!!!!!!

Well, J, thanks for the compliment. Yeah, we had a bit of a let-down in the latter stages of our season, didn't we? I saw it coming, I'm afraid, during the Cal game. As for whether that "Phony" call was worth it, well, since I don't believe in karma, and thus don't believe there's any causal realtionship between the UO-OU game and the rest of our season, It's rather a moot point, isn't it? But if gloating over the Would I prefer we had beaten the Sooners without the controversy? Sure. But that's the way the ball bounces. Teams have lost games due to blown calls by officials forever. What do you propose -- that every bad call ever be reversed retroactively?

As for intentionally insulting all Oregon fans by questioning our "honesty": well, if that's what passes for sportsmanship in Soonerland, I'm afraid you don't have much moral standing to complain about a blown call. Besides, people who root for a team whose nickname historically was synonymous with cheating (at the land grants), really shouldn't throw stones. Glass houses are pricey these days. And, while we're on the subject of being honest, do you expect me to believe that if the situation had been reversed, and Oregon had lost the game on a blown call, the Sooners and their fans would be any more inclined to surrender the victory? Yeah, right.

Do I think Oklahoma got screwed? Absolutely. Do I feel bad that the outcome of the game is tainted by that? Sure. Do I think the Ducks themselves intentionally did the screwing? No -- they played to the best of their ability, they played clean, it was a lousy officiating crew that screwed you guys. Do I think the Ducks should have the voctory stripped from them because of htis? No. If they had intentionally cheated to get the win, yes. But again, these things happen, and the best we can do is to fix what breaks so it doesn't happen again. And finally, do I think you're a crybaby poor sport with no life for feeling the need to email me about this months after my last post on the topic, let alone the game?

Oh, Hell yes.

Musical Geography Question of the Day

In what city is there gonna be a certain party at the station?

(Last Round's winner: Tony of blah blah blog fam... er... notorie... er... of blah blah blog)

Musical Geography Question(s) of the Day

Where did our fathers spend their weekends?

Where are we living?

Conference of Champions

I make no bones about being a fan of the University of Oregon Ducks. However, whenever I can do so without conflict, I also root for the University of Southern California, and have my whole life, because my grandfather and father were, and mother is, lifelong Trojan fans. My Grandfather swore to his dying day that the greatest football player in history was Ambrose Bierce [huh?] Schindler [thanks, mom].

Even when the Pac-10 race is tight, there's one game, fortunately non-conference, in which I ALWAYS root for USC, regardless of the ramifications for the Ducks.

Which is why tonight's outcome gives me some consolation after the Ducks' heartbreaker in the Civil War:

USC 44
Notre Dame 24

Fight On.