Smithy

The wind died yesterday evening in time for a campfire, and we opted for a simple dinner. The elements: Farmers John's Louisiana style hot sausages (2 regular, 2 smoked chicken), asparagus tossed with olive oil, and a parsley/garlic/oil sauce I've had hanging around. As usual, the tailgate was the staging area. (No ice in the wine tonight, rotuts. ) It's good to have a variety of grill baskets available; some can be flipped; some are more designed for tossing and shaking the contents. Now that we've had truly flamed tube steaks, there may be no going back to cooking them indoors, unless they're cooked as bits in something else. Those browned skins really enhance the flavors! (Cue readers saying "well, DUH!" ) The parsley sauce went over the asparagus in the bowl before we dished onto our plates. Simple cooking, simple cleanup. Yum.

I have no experience with this, but the molds remind me of those clever little 'walnut' molds where you make two halves of a nut-shaped cookie and then put them together with frosting. Is that something that could work in molded chocolate?

Yes, that's it. Do you shop there? I'm planning to post photos this time around, if the owners don't mind.

and in your best Baccarat, at that! I'm honored!

Lamb with standard lemon is also quite good. One of my favorite marinades for lamb is essentially lemon juice and olive oil, with assorted seasonings added. Lamb and cumin are excellent together. Cumin and orange are excellent together. I think lamb, cumin and orange might be a knockout. Hmm, I have some ground lamb on hand...

Tonight's dinner could be subtitled "How to make room in a refrigerator". Tepary beans come in both a brown and white variety, and we keep both around. They're small - about the size of lentils - and cook quickly. I think the white beans may hydrate and cook more quickly than the browns, but that doesn't keep me from mixing and cooking them together. This didn't vacate refrigerator space, but everything else did. I soaked them for about 2 hours. When it was time to begin cooking, there was half an onion and the leftover juices from citrus roasted chicken (fridge continer #1 emptied! hooray!) waiting in a pot. They were joined by a quart of beef broth I'd made from ribs a while back. (That's container #2!) When the beans were cooked, I took an immersion blender to them and mashed them into submission. Meanwhile, in another pot, ground beef and chorizo were browned with the other half of the onion and a chopped red bell pepper. I had intended to include some aging chopped vegetables (container #3), but forgot them. They'll probably go to the local critters. The cherished sour cream had been kept past its time, so out it went (#4). We opened a container of labne as a substitute...and a fine substitute it was. We also had shredded cheddar cheese and green enchilada sauce lurking in the refrigerator; happily, they were not past their prime. Here's dinner, just before we wrapped it up and tucked in: This evening's sunset:

Thanks for the explanations. In my world, a fuzzy melon is past its prime and destined for the compost pile. I'm glad I asked!

liuzhou, did you need to heat that before eating, or was it already cooked? If you heated it - did you steam it? What purpose did the leaf wrapping serve? It looks like it was just a shaper, like a tamale wrapping. Yes? No? It looks like a very nice lagniappe. I wish I could imagine its flavor and texture. ...and by the way, gung hay fat choy. (If you don't know what the heck I mean, I blame my elementary school teachers. )

Ah! No, thanks for reminding me. During his Egyptian research days, DH spent a week or 10 days at a time on desert expeditions with the guide and driver(s) described above. Their travels were very different from our current glamping expeditions: a quarter-ton 2 wheel-drive Toyota pickup (called a "Teeyohta" even if it was a Chevrolet or Bedford ) carried all their provisions, tents, water and so on. There was one cooler, but no ice for it; everything had to be shelf-stable in some fashion. We fell in love with Egyptian feta cheese, also known in some circles as Danish white cheese. It came in these sealed TetraBrik™ foil-lined boxes and needed no refrigeration. It's very salty, like most feta, but it has more the consistency of cream cheese instead of the typical crumbly texture of feta we see here at home. Much of the feta we buy here has a flavor we find distasteful, too: he describes it as tasting like a petroleum product. I don't notice it with good restaurant feta cheeses, but most of the versions I've tried from the grocery store are objectionable. In reading the side of the box we see that these packages are labeled "Aseptic" but they also say "Keep refrigerated". It's possible that the formulation or treatment has changed since we first discovered this product, but until a couple of weeks ago I'd never seen one start growing things. I am very, very glad I discovered that box before it exploded! The ingredient descriptions says: White Cheese (Full Cream) Made from fresh pasteurized milk, salt, starter culture, palm oil, microbial rennet, contains 40% fat/dry matter, 5% milk powder. We've had the Devil's own time finding this type of boxed feta cheese in the U.S, although it is (or was then) common in Egypt under several brand names. For a while there was a Middle Eastern mail-order company out of Pennsylvania that carried it, but they seem to have gone out of business. Finally, a couple of years ago, we discovered a Middle Eastern grocery store in Tucson that carries it. Every time we pass through, we stock up. At $3/500g box it's a bargain.

I personally wouldn't mind some of that snow, but it wouldn't go well with the Other Half - nor with this environment. I do remember, my first winter in Minnesota, using a snowbank to chill a bottle of bubbly. I learned that it doesn't take long at 20 below to go from warm to frozen, even under that insulating blanket of snow. Here, the afternoon temperatures are getting into the 80's. When the afternoon sun hits the side of the trailer, the refrigerator really has to work. We're positioned to take advantage of a brake of trees but it's more of a wind brake than a sun brake. Today the wind has been howling: the local name for it is "Santa Ana winds", where high pressure over the desert blows air down through the passes and out to sea via the L.A. Basin. The wind does wonders for the area's visibility; it also heats and dries in its downhill slide, doing no favors for area farmers. I'd estimate the wind here to be pushing 30 knots, out of the shelter of our tree brake, and in the sheltered areas still gusting over 15. Dinner will probably be an indoor cooking affair again tonight.

Don't I know the phenomenon of going on for one or two things and coming out with 3 or 4 bags! :-D FWIW I too think it's interesting to see what people buy. Your purchases are interesting and, as always, beautifully photographed...I'm usually mostly amazed at the variety, given my lack of access to anything like an Asian market.

"Fuzzy squash"? What is that, please, huiray?

The wind died after we'd decided not to have a campfire, so we simply sat outside and watched the stars, and counted more than a dozen satellites. Dinner afterward was our "Bedouin Fatigue Potato Salad": boiled eggs, cut and boiled potatoes, a box of Greenland Egyptian feta cheese, freshly ground cumin. Mix, and serve hot. When my darling was researching the Eastern Egyptian Desert and documenting Pharoanic inscriptions, he was often accompanied only by a driver and a guide, two Bedouins from the Red Sea side of the area. It was the driver's job to drive them all to a designated wadi, set up camp, take care of meals, and break camp; the guide, a lovely old man with a wealth of knowledge, kept them on track from one location to the next. They often stayed in one location for a couple of days while DH walked and surveyed and documented, then they'd break camp and move to the next location. Some days got to be entirely too long from the crew's point of view. My darling finally made the connection: if, at the end of the day, dinner was tea, boiled eggs, boiled potatoes (always peeled but never cut, so they were raw in the interior) and Egyptian feta cheese, he'd worked the crew too hard. Nonetheless this is a smashingly good flavor combination, particularly if the potatoes are cut into smaller chunks so they cook evenly. There's no need to peel. We like to mix the lot together, serve with freshly ground cumin, and accompany it with some beverage other than tea. In honor of drivers Selim and his occasional replacement Hussein, and guide Haj Tofiiq (bless his memory and soul), we call it Bedouin Fatigue Potato Salad. (Don't look at the wine glass, rotuts. )

I'm using insider information here, of course, but here are the things I'd list: 1. The essays. This isn't just a series of recipes; it also has thoughtful essays and funny stories. It's a good read. 2. The accessibility of the recipes. There are some recipes that I may never try - for instance, I love the idea of Modernist cookery but haven't taken any steps toward trying spherification myself - but there are many, many recipes that look like something I'd enjoy making and eating. Furthermore, the steps are spelled out clearly enough that anyone should be able to understand them. I've never tried confection making, but if I wished to I believe your instructions could get me started. 3. The interesting combination of new ingredients with familiar techniques and familiar ingredients with new techniques. I haven't tried salt-curing yolks yet, but it's on my list for this year. 4. It's going to be pretty. Full disclosure here: I do not have a financial interest in this book or this conversation! However, after seeing the manuscript I very much want to see it published.

There's a watering hole within a mile of here, and we have a running discussion about whether the tracks we're seeing are from deer or javelina. Both are around in scarce numbers, but in the soft sand it can be difficult to distinguish their tracks. Since neither of us has the patience to sit for hours or days and watch the spot, we'll probably have to agree to disagree. I remember those Golden Nature guides; in fact, my first bird book - still in use at home - is a Golden Guide.

Another venerable piece of camping gear that I inherited is Papa's Pan. Papa's Pan hung in my grandparents' kitchen for decades, and I grew up hearing it called an omelet pan although I don't recall seeing it put to use. My father inherited it, and only later did I learn that it had been part of his family's camping gear - both when he was a child and the family camped together, and later when he and his father ("Papa" to me) camped on hunting or fishing trips. Fish, potatoes, eggs all were cooked in that pan over a fire if they didn't have a stove along, and I now put it to the same use. Instead of continuing to call it "Nana's omelet pan", I dubbed it "Papa's Pan". Dad enjoyed knowing that it was back in action for a third generation. Last night was my first attempt at something along the lines of Potatoes Anna over a campfire in Papa's Pan. The idea was to get a good browned crust on one side, flip the pan and get a good browned crust on the other. Along with Potatoes Papa (should I call them Papas Papa?) were brussels sprouts in the skillet and - not shown over the fire - two salmon fillets in the grill basket. The salmon had been brushed with a sauce I made of boiled-down minneola juice, honey, and butter; the brushed salmon was seasoned with mesquite flour and a touch of white pepper. The remaining sauce was reserved for serving. Results: the Papas Papa didn't hold together properly, perhaps because I had 2 layers of potatoes, perhaps because I had the wrong ratio of cream and butter to potatoes, perhaps because I flipped it too soon. The flavor was excellent, however, and this was the perfect serving for 2 people. The fish was tasty - I'll do that sauce again as long as I still have citrus - but overdone by too much time over the fire. I was sorry to dry out some of that lovely salmon given to us from our friends' Alaskan fishing trip. Back to Papa's Pan for one more story: Dad told me that after one particular fishing and camping trip that he and his father had been on, they arrived back home. Nana promptly took over the cooking gear and, thinking she was doing them a favor, cleaned it all. She proudly showed Papa the newly-cleaned pan: "Look!" she said, "It's good as new!" Papa was furious: all that time building up a good coat of soot, and she'd ruined it!

I mentioned earlier that our breakfast is usually the same every day. I've been doing a slight change-up lately: Over on the eG Cook-off: Citrus Fruits topic I described making citrus gelatin and using it to help preserve fruit salad. It works for me, but my darling insists on keeping some fruit salad out of the mix for his breakfast. His cereal bounces otherwise.

My parents began our camping career with a two-burner model. I don't remember whether they upgraded to a 3-burner model because the old one was stolen, or they decided they needed a bigger one, but the above-pictured Coleman stove is that one. My sister took it when our parents began downsizing, and later gave it to me. I highly recommend that you fish that stove out, gfweb. Ours has done yeoman's duty, not only on camping trips but when our kitchen was being remodeled. Neither my sister nor I took the old Coleman lantern when our parents downsized. I rather regret that decision now. At the time, she didn't think she needed it and my darling didn't want to mess with those mantles. We suffered along with a rechargeable electric version for several years, until I finally decided I'd had enough of impossibly dim light. Our new lantern is a Coleman propane-fired two-mantle lantern. It puts out plenty of light and seems only to sip at fuel: we're still on the original 1-lb propane bottle after 2 years. I'm happy to report, rotuts, that Coleman now makes easy-on mantles with clips to maneuver them in place instead of those little string ties. This new version has a slight hiss - reminiscent of the long-gone original, but not so loud. I remember during my teen years staying up far late into the night after others had gone to bed, reading to that hissing and fizzing. The wind came up in the night and promises to be blowing for several days. Looks like I'll be cooking inside tonight.

It's too darned hot to cook inside the trailer now, and the camp stove has been set up. Last night it was a "must-go" stir fry of shrimp, brussels sprouts, broccoli and peppers over rice. Bacon ends and pieces provided much of the fat. The sauce was a bottled "Classic Stir Fry Sauce" from Stonewall Kitchens. (I've used up another item from the pantry! ) I know it isn't difficult to make stir fry sauce, but sometimes I'm so busy fumbling around that the sauce takes as much time as the stir fry itself. I've kept the ingredient list so I'll have something to try to replicate.

In our younger and more energetic days, my friends and I set aside one long weekend in January or February for a winter camping expedition into the back woods of northeastern Minnesota. We'd use my house as a base camp from which to launch - up to 18 people in the group - and some would have come earlier in the week so we could get in some river skiing. Come launch day, we'd drive about 2 hours to the parking area, then ski or snowshoe 3 miles or so into our intended camping area. The culinary experimentation in camp was marvelous, but the most memorable weekend was the year that we first had heard of deep-frying a turkey. One person skiied in towing a sled with a turkey fryer, 5 gallons of oil and a turkey - seasoned and trussed in chicken wire at my house. (His buddy carried their camping gear.) The next night, after a good long day of cross-country skiing up one hill and down another, the fryer and oil were set up at a respectable distance from the bonfire, and the cooking began. That meal stands out as one of the best of my life. The turkey was moist on the inside - all of it - no dried-out breast meat - and crackly on the outside. No doubt the exercise, fresh air and extreme cold contributed to our appreciation. When all was done - and there were no leftovers - the oil heated our bonfire with an impressive flame that helped us all go to bed warm. Those are happy memories, but I'm just as glad now to be doing my outdoor cooking when the temperature is above zero (C and F).

In addition to being quick, that looks like a good hot-weather meal, Anna. Not that 'hot weather' applies in your area at the moment, but it'll come in handy later.

dcarch, what sort of citrus did you use as garnish? They don't look like kumquats but they seem to be about the same size...unless those wings are from condor-sized chickens.

That's one of my favorite salads. Thanks, David.

I'd help you with those rejects if I were close enough. In fact, I might insist that your standards were too low and you needed to define them all as rejects.

I'd never heard of chicken karaage before, Anna. Now that I've seen your photo and looked it up, I think I'll have to try it.