Smithy

I'll play! My first thought was that it was the squatting guy with the hat, but looking at it now he seems to be a bit too well bronzed. OTOH Kerry has turned out some brilliantly smooth, shiny confections that look like gold. I'm leaning toward it being the gilded, er, hyperendowed woman in the bottom photo. Kerry, you'll let us know after a bit more time guessing, I hope?

Excellent corruption; I may adopt it. I had been wondering what interesting condiment I'd been missing out on, and I'm glad you elucidated before I went on a wild goose hunt via Google. As for those potatoes: sometimes the simplest truly is best. I think I'll look for new potatoes in the market today.

liamsaunt, what was in that creamy avocado dressing, other than chunks of avocado? The salad is beautiful.

Shel_B, thanks for the reminder: I too am a fan of Aleppo Pepper, and sometimes use that in place of cayenne. Darienne, the recipe is very forgiving. I don't usually have green lentils, but instead use a blend of orange lentils, brown lentils, yellow lentils, brown or white tepary beans.... It doesn't seem to matter whether they come from a Native American source or the Indian portion of our grocery store, as long as they're roughly the same size and will cook at about the same rate.

I adjust the seasonings slightly: 1 Tbsp cumin instead of their 1/2 tsp cumin (we really like cumin); 1 tsp coriander powder instead of 1/2 tsp; hot paprika instead of cayenne, but no quantity adjustment; 1 - 2 tsp salt instead of 1 Tbsp for others' salt sensitivity (but I add more to my own at the table). Spicy heat note: I think it's pretty spicy, probably due to the mustard seed and/or curry powder, and usually cut the heat in my bowl with a bit of dairy: lebneh, yogurt or maybe sour cream. My DH doesn't think the heat needs cutting.

I have a Weight Watchers recipe called Slow Cooker South Indian Lentil Stew that might fit your bill. It's a dead-easy crockpot or stovetop simmer: throw the stuff in and let it go; garnish with lemon and (optional) cilantro just before serving. Would this be of interest?

Wow! There's some really great (and surprising) stuff there! I'm surprised these days to see civilized airline food. It looks as though you fared well.

Our last brisket adventure was at Laird's Bar-B-Q & Catering. Where Cooper's is large and 7-days-a-week, Laird's is a small operation, closed on Mondays (and Tuesdays? I don't remember). Ken and Esther Laird started this business around 40 years ago, and have built quite a name for themselves. There's a Certificate of Appreciation from the Governor; there are newspaper articles framed. Most of the wall art is Esther's work. She's quite a good painter. Ken is a lean man, and when you consider his work schedule you can see why. He logs the mesquite, cuts and stacks it, burns it to charcoal, operates the pit and cooks the meat in his outdoor kitchen. His wife Esther handles the indoor jobs, with help from at least one server. Ken was happy to chat with me and answer questions. No, he doesn't use a thermometer, either for the wood or the pit or the meat. "After all these years, you can tell when it's right," he said. He told me about a health inspector who came through once and took him to task for not knowing whether the meat was sufficiently cooked. "He was a young feller, all full of himself and wanting to make a name. He told me, "How do you know your meat is hot enough without a thermometer?" I told him, "Give me your hand." "What?" "Give me your hand. You want to see how hot that meat is, I'll put some in your bare hand." He decided my meat must be hot enough after all." I went inside to order before food shut down for the night. I wanted brisket, of course. I forgot to ask Esther not to slice it, their usual way of serving, and came away with a combination of sliced and slab meat. While Esther was preparing my order and her helper (whose name I did not get) prepared my bill, Ken came in and pointed to one of the paintings. "Nancy, did you know that Esther tells people that's a picture of me?" It was a donkey's head, next to a ristra of chili peppers. "Well, Ken - be glad that's the end she painted!" He laughed with delight. I brought the brisket home, and we feasted again.

Thanks, I discussed wood types with quite a few brisketeers in Llano, and they all used mesquite - only mesquite. They also said they all use it because that's what they have. (Mesquite is ubiquitous in that part of Texas). It burns long and steadily, and according to them is an ideal wood. "What about oak?" I asked. They didn't know, but they guessed it would burn too hot or too quickly. (Oak? Hmm.) The next day I noticed some camping neighbors with a portable smoker for a family reunion, so I asked them. They're from farther east, and they use what they are used to: oak! I like the flavor of hickory-smoked meats too, but have never noticed a sharp unpleasant flavor from mesquite. The charcoal briquettes that I picked up once with mesquite sawdust included in the mix were another matter, however. I won't do that again.

I guess I'll have to keep and eye out for Shake Shack now. That sounds luscious!

This is going to be fun!

You do indeed! They also had nice garlicky fries. Dessert was peach cobbler (the styrofoam cup at upper right of one of our plates).

Thanks for the Crepes and Shelby, thanks for that additional information about net casting! I've never had a chance to try it, but your descriptions match Pat Conroy's. As far as balance goes: this gent had the advantage of casting from a very solid surface - not a rocking boat - but it would have been a long fall with a very hard landing if he'd gone over the edge. The Llano Volunteer Fire Department serves the City of Llano as well as the surrounding rural area: about 650 square miles, according to their web site. Their main fundraiser is their annual fish fry and barbecue. Last year we had so much fun that we scheduled our trip to make sure to hit it again. The day before the Big Event I happened by the Fire Hall and discovered that preparations were well underway. Men were laughing and working hard and confirming schedule details, but they were happy to answer questions and let me snap photos. One team of men was cooking down chunks of mesquite in a chimney. About every half hour, a shovelful or three of coals would be moved from the chimney to the barbecue and distributed for even heat. As with all the other 'cue operations I checked, nobody owned up to using a thermometer, infrared or otherwise; they just went by feel and long experience. They also used bagged mesquite charcoal. At what stage they mixed the wood and the charcoal chunks is something I either didn't ask or don't remember. Meanwhile, another team was busily prepping briskets for the grill. "Blur my face!" laughed one man, "I'm a wanted man!" (I heard that from several people in Llano, but they all made sure I knew they were joking. ) They had a pan full of a bulk spice blend that they bought in large bags: salt, pepper and "pork salt", which I finally worked out was curing salt. By "bulk" I mean very large bags. I don't remember how many they said they'd use, but here's the bag that was in use, atop a chair for easy access: Each brisket was unwrapped, coated thoroughly in the spice mix, then stacked and taken away for cooking. They cooked all the briskets that day, then wrapped and chilled them overnight. The next day, the briskets would be warmed before serving. I didn't ask about the other dishes that would be served; I thanked them, said "see you tomorrow!" and continued my stroll. The next afternoon, we drove over to the Big Event. What a turnout! People come from all over the county to support this barbecue. People were lined up to buy dinner (donation, no suggested amount) and raffle tickets ($1 each), and then lined up at the buffet. What a spread! The tables were all packed. A live band was playing a combination of Texas swing and standard rock-and-roll songs. People who were done eating sat around and clapped, or got up and danced. The energy was wonderful. We loaded up our plates far too enthusiastically, but how could we skip anything? We had driven because rain was threatening, but it didn't happen. We should have walked waddled home. We could have used the exercise.

It was a fun trip. Thanks for taking us along!

That risotto sounds like a nice, flavorful way to use scraps, Mitch. Thanks for posting about it!

THAT is my kind of brunch!

Charlie's Store in Llano is one of those one-off places that I never expect to find in a town of this size. It seems to have expanded over the years to occupy what used to be 3 separate store fronts on the main street, although I've never asked if this is true. If you look through two of the storefronts you'll see an impressive selection of nice furniture; if we lived anywhere nearby I'm sure this would be our source of furniture. However, if you come through the middle entrance you'll get household goods, small appliances, a gift shop and and an amazing variety of kitchen gear. There are commercial-grade heavy-duty baking pans of all sizes and shapes. There are measuring cups, graters, choppers, appliances, grilling supplies, cutting boards...well, the list is astonishingly large for a place this size. Let the pictures take the place of the thousand words. The prices are as good as anything I've seen for this quality of goods, and I love coming in when we visit. Sometimes I have a specific need; sometimes I don't figure out what I needed until I see it here. I came in search of a specific measuring cup that I bought in British Columbia about 15 years ago; it's cracked and no longer holds liquid for very long, but it's the perfect size and shape for immersion-blender mayonnaise (as an example) and I'd like to replace it. No luck so far, but I had a great time chatting with Kim about the store, her cool selections, and then on to Life, the Universe and Everything. I had also thought to buy a silicone banana leaf pad for the trailer. While I was looking at it and wishing I'd measured the oven, Kim pointed out some Charles Viancin covers that I'd never seen before: citrus-section covers with rigid frameworks to allow stacking. Dishwasher safe, yep. Microwave safe, yep. What a find! And they were half-price! I came away with 2 different sizes and a small throw rug to replace one of our severely worn rugs. I deliberately did not buy any cookbooks. That may be a first for my visits to this store. I discovered after getting my purchases home that the lids are microwave safe but - unlike the other silicone lids - not oven safe. I hadn't noticed that. They'll still be useful. They already have been. At the very next shop - an antiques and vintage store around the corner - I found these: So much for coming home without more cookbooks.

That's the plan, rotuts. suzilightning, you'd have gone crazy here yesterday. We were downwind of the preparations for a major event today (stay tuned ) and from a half mile away the smells drifted to us. Wonderful! I wonder if pit bosses ever burn out on the smell? Maybe I should ask. Do you mean truly open pits? I'd like to know more about that.

Yesterday I strolled into town, across the Inks Bridge where I had a good view of the Llano River and the City's water supply dam. This dam is raised and lowered seasonally as needed to provide a reliable water supply for the City. They've lowered the water level drastically for the past several months in order to dredge the river bed and improve storage capacity. It's startling to see the river this low. I've read about net casting in Pat Conroy's works - the practice required to get the net to cast out in a circle as it's thrown, so that it's wide open when it hits the water. The weights keep it open until a drawstring pulls it closed. He wrote about that for shrimping, but yesterday I saw someone use the technique on fish. After several tries he came up with a fish. It looked like a beauty. It also looked like dinner, because he stopped after that one. Llano, "The Deer Capital of Texas", has fancifully decorated statues of deer all around the historic downtown area. This one is set up to look like a barbecue. Meet "Buck B Q": The Berry Street Bakery, one block off the busy and noisy main street through town, is set in a blessedly quiet area close to the Town Square. It's a nice little wooden-sided building, possibly a former house, with a dining area in front and another dining room to the rear. To the left, as you walk in, is a display case with baked goods. The area behind the counter has very nice vintage glassware and serverware that seems to be used frequently. In addition to baked sweet goods they offer sandwiches, quiches and coffee. I settled for a chocolate chip cookie. It was lovely: just the right balance of toothsome resistance, followed by a soft interior.

Llano, Texas has become a favorite several-day-stopover point for us. This little town of only a few thousand people feels much larger, perhaps because it's the county seat and perhaps because of its history. Beautiful stone buildings dot the downtown area, and the town square is built around a magnificent stone County Courthouse - easily the tallest building in town. Best of all, there's a city park situated on the Llano River, with full RV hookups; the park is within easy walking distance of downtown, interesting shops and wonderful barbecue joints. There are other restaurants here: a mesquite-fired pizza place, hamburger joints, and an upscale wine bar/beer pub/restaurant with both courtyard and indoor dining, all of them within an easy stroll. It doesn't matter. We come here for the 'cue. I don't plan to cook much during our stay. Cooper's Old-Time Pit Bar-B-Que fed us the first evening. We set up, paid our camping fee, relaxed a bit, and then headed up to check the offerings. They have charcoal-burning chimneys in which the wood is cooked down to live coals; from there, the coals are added to the pits as needed. The pits begin operating early in the morning. This is a big operation, with 6 or 8 active cooking pits, a serving pit and (I think they said) one or two keep-warm pits. It isn't unusual at peak times to see a line stretching the length of the building. When I first heard the term "pit barbecue" I imagined a hole dug in the earth. Although it may have begun that way, that isn't what we've seen around here. In this context a "pit" is a large metal lidded box set up to add coals from one end, at the bottom of the box, with a grill above and a hinged lid to trap the smoke but allow easy access. The cooks monitor the coals by feel, and nobody could give us a good estimate of the barbecue temperature. (They told us later that they measure the meat temperature; brisket is considered cooked at 140F. We didn't ask about other meats.) I think they said it takes around 4 hours to cook an 8-pound brisket. Their offerings are listed on a chalk board hanging from the rafters. The serving pit has a selection of available meats for easy viewing and selection, and to augment your appetite regardless of how hungry you might have been when you arrived. As a particular choice gets low, more is moved up from the keep-warm pits. When it's your turn to order, you tell what you want and about how much. One of the nice young men carves it to order. "Do you want it dipped?" he asks, and if you assent, the whole slab is dipped in a pot of their sauce. Then he sets it all on a tray, and you take it inside to get it weighed and to pay for it. There's dining inside. They have other offerings: potato salad, slaw, beer, soft drinks. We just bought meat and brought it back to eat at home. We had bought a large serving of brisket and a small amount of sirloin. I liked both. My darling preferred the brisket. We both agreed that the barbecue sauce was the perfect compliment to the meat: adding juice to carry the flavor, but not adding a noticeable flavor of its own. All too often I find barbecue sauce to be the equivalent of a backup singer who wants to outdo the lead. In this case, the sauce harmonized so well that I thought it must have had a base of meat juice. I learned later that it's their own vinegar-and-ketchup recipe, augmented over the hours by the spices and juices from various meats dipped into it.

Norm Mathews, that's an excellent illustration! Thank you!

Povitica vs. potica: I wonder whether there is (after all) more than a linguistic distinction? Here are some photos from about 10 years ago of the (walnut) potica I purchased and thoroughly enjoyed: I'm not getting the paper clip fold business. Does the cross-section of povitica look like this?

Thanks for that information, btbyrd. It gives me more incentive (as though I need any) to buy the gear and start playing with it. :-)

Thanks, Shelby! I too am pining for garden tomatoes, but have to remind myself that they won't be coming in at That Other (wheel-less) Home until July. We'll be arriving home around the first of May, and there still won't be buds on the trees although the grass should be turning green.I still have to read the Little House series. I have read and enjoyed a couple of the books, but would be more interested in them now for their views into pioneer life. Have you been enjoying the cookbook?

Texans are great picnickers. Give them an excuse and they'll find a venue; we've learned to plan our travels carefully around spring holidays, because most parks will be full unless we make reservations. We moved on from Davis Mountains State Park to the Amistad National Recreation Area for the Easter weekend, from high altitude to low country. The trees froth with fragrant blossoms, while small wildflowers accent the roadside grass. The Amistad Reservoir, situated on the Rio Grande near Del Rio, Texas, has been pitifully low for several years and is rarely crowded as a result. Many boat ramps are closed. Sheep-filled pasture is reestablishing itself where there was water only 5 years ago. Our preferred campground, once a haven for fishermen, is now largely neglected. We had it to ourselves last Thanksgiving, and expected the same for Easter. We arrived to find 1 of 6 campsites taken; we took a site decently removed from that one. We slept soundly and quietly Friday night, with only songbirds and wild turkeys to disturb us. On Saturday afternoon we learned that we had misjudged. Soon this was the view out our window, looking at the adjacent campsite about 100 feet away: It was a local family, at least 3 generations' worth: grandparents, children and their spouses, and grandchildren ranging from toddlers to teens. Up went the tents. Out came the cooking gear. A fire was started, and soon wonderful cooking smells began drifting our way, along with laughter and chatter and the shrieks of happy children. Early in the evening I couldn't contain my curiosity any more. I recognized (and lusted after) a portable wood-fired smoker, but what was that other thing they were cooking in? I wandered over, greeted them and asked. It was, in essence, a homemade propane-powered wok. It looked as though someone had made a large basin, flatter and deeper than a wok but much shallower and more flared than a frying pot. Grandmama, who thought I'd asked what they'd been cooking (not what they'd been cooking it in, said "pig tails!" What? Yes, pig tails. I'd never heard of fried pig tails! They were eager to share; they must have had 5 pounds left from that day's snackfest. The tails were cut into chunks, say, 2 - 3 inches long, dropped into the boiling oil until cooked, then fished out and dunked in salt water. Man, that was good stuff. They also sent me away with some fine, homemade pico de gallo. "Be careful," said one sister of another, "she makes it spicy!" I think those were homegrown jalapenos. It was hot-spicy and delicious. My darling had a pig tail or two, but I got the rest...and all of the pico de gallo. The photo doesn't do it justice. As I left, thanking them and wishing them all a Happy Easter, I looked at the toddlers and asked the pico de gallo maker about how early they went to bed. "We don't want to disturb you with our generator," I explained. (Quiet Hours are from 10 p.m. to 6 a.m. but I thought the babies might go down earlier.) She looked at me with what I thought was a kind look of relief, as though she was glad they wouldn't have to keep their conversation down, or perhaps it was gratitude at my consideration. "Don't worry," she said, "we go to bed, ah, very late." It was actually a look of pity. Their music continued thumping until after 3 a.m. although it stopped bothering me sometime after midnight. They certainly were having fun! The next day more wonderful smells - was it brisket in the smoker this time? - wafted from the campsite as yet more people rolled in. We went about our own business, and at 5 p.m. were treated to the sight of a wild Easter Egg hunt with the kiddos racing as fast as their little legs could go. Their Easter tradition, it turns out, is similar to the Egg-Cracking ritual discussed over here, except that they use hollowed-out dyed eggs that have been filled with confetti. A riot of egg cracking and egg breaking and family tussling ensued. Then the family packed up, tidied up and left. They did a pretty good job. There's some litter of brightly-colored confetti and eggshell at their site, but everything else went into trash barrels and bags that had been provided by the Rangers. Our Easter dinner was much more sedate. I used one of our two remaining precious salmon filets from our friends and grilled it on a plank: I had made bread as well: Dinner: planked salmon and asparagus, caper butter, and fresh bread. (He had inhaled his first two slices of bread before I got to the camera. ) We staggered off to bed, breathing more easily. It had been grand fun watching the families and learning about fried pig tails, but it was good to hear bird song again.