Smithy

Cold storage too long, picked too early, packing house too rough: all those things affect citrus flavor. My parents raised oranges and, later, added minneolas; we also had pet trees with lemons and satsuma mandarins. We always lamented the fact that people didn't really know what those fruits should taste like. Dad used to say that the best place to store an orange is on the tree. I suppose it's the same for most produce; I have friends who live in Africa who won't touch a banana in the United States. Lest this topic drift too far afield (but I am keenly interested in the citrus question and what those fruits might be, Andie): I'll add that my latest "new ingredient" is sourdough starter. I began it from a package and have been trying to keep it alive and use it. The results have been good, but the recipes from which I'm cooking are a bit, er, vague for this beginning bread baker.

Actually, I don't think they could. Because everybody in Texas already knows that the Barbecue Capital of Texas (even officially so proclaimed by the Texas State Legislature) and (in my opinion, anyway) therefore Barbecue Capital of The Whole Entire Planet Earth, is Lockhart. http://www.lockhart-tx.org/web98/visitors/bbqcapitaloftexas.asp If Llano ever tried such a cheeky thing, believe me, they would just piss everybody off. There's a lot less competition (heated competition anyway) to be "Deer Capital" than there is to be "Barbecue Capital." You know? , Jaymes, you've just given us a reason to put Lockhart on our itinerary sometime. We noted that they have a state park, but haven't explored the area. Thanks! ...and no, I'd rather not piss off a Texan. We get a bang out of their anti-litter motto: "Don't Mess With Texas".

...and here I am, with the sourdough bread batter barely started. Y'all are waaaay ahead of me. The bread looks wonderful, Norm! Great way to break in the new mixer!

Andie, what do you think of them? Do they have good flavor? Lots of juice? They almost look like a lime hybrid from the photos...which isn't necessarily bad, but changes their flavor profile.

It was lovely to see the sun again. The air was cold (that is, it never reached 50F) and the wind blew briskly much of the day, but we felt like we needed to don sunglasses along with our hats and gloves. I think we've had 3 weeks of fog and overcast. Tonight's dinner was a haphazard affair. I set out to do a stir fry of vegetables and some center-cut pork steaks with a szechuan sauce, then realized I'd waited too long to make the sauce. Maya Kaimal to the rescue! The ingredients came to be a pork tikka masala curry instead, over rice. Let's hear it for convenience foods. Does anyone else here like Maya Kaimal's jarred sauces? Just down the road, the city has their "Starry, Starry Nights" display of Christmas lights set to go in the park. We figure they'll open the gates tomorrow evening. This evening, with the historic downtown area in the background, at least I could get a preview:

My first thought was that they were Meyer lemons, based on the description...but your photos of the produce don't look like Meyers at all. How strange! Based on the mottled green tint, I'd suspect that these - whatever they are - were picked early. Do you think they were ripe?

Thank you for posting about this.

Nice to see you here, Marlene!

Seen on the road today, but none of the pictures came out: A trailer/RV storage lot with a sign boasting a "safe elevation" of 27 feet above sea level;A water tower painted like a watermelon (how I wish I had that photo and could post it!)Another water tower painted in camouflage as a tribute to the members of our military;Dozens of deer crossing the road, including some bucks with impressive racks;A small oil well, with the bobbing counterweight painted to look like a cow jumping over the moon;A wreck of an airplane, diving into the ground, near an airport, with a sign advertising skydiving. I'd jump out too,with a plane like that.The palmettos and whooping cranes gave way earlier today to mesquite and cardinals, and after at least 2 weeks we've finally seen the sun. We're in Llano, Texas. If you speak even rudimentary Spanish, you need to know that the locals pronounce it "LA-no", with a short "a", to rhyme more or less with "PLAN-oh". They bill themselves as the Deer Capital of Texas, but I think they could just as effectively advertise themselves as the Barbecue Capital of Texas. We have a wonderful time here: checking out the barbecue places, sampling, and enjoying entirely too much fatty meat, cooked to perfection...or, if not perfection, then very close. Cooper's Old-Style Barbecue occupies a couple of buildings almost a block apart. In one area they cook mesquite wood down to make charcoal. The next block over they actually use the charcoal to barbecue pork, beef, chicken, lamb, goat or sausages to perfection. The "pits" begin heating at around 6 in the morning, but I've forgotten when Cooper's opens for the day: around 11 a.m? They have a wonderful strategy: make people wait in line until they arrive at the main pit, then have them pick out what they want and how much. Mind you: the "how much" gauge is entirely by eyeball, looking at lusciously cooked meat in a huge pit. The carver cuts and loads it onto a tray. From there the hungry customer carries it into the main room where it's weighed, sides are ordered, and the whole bill is paid. We were amazed, and a bit horrified, at how much we'd ordered the first time we came here. This time we were more prepared. Once you've paid you have the option of eating at the picnic-tables inside the restaurant, or taking your spoils home to eat. We chose the latter,so we could include some healthful green vegetables. (n.b. we really did eat them, even though they aren't shown in the photos!). We came home with pork ribs and beef brisket. Despite our restraint we had leftovers. Well, as I write this there are leftovers. I wouldn't be surprised to awake in the morning and learn that the brisket had evaporated.

There are a hit-and-miss few. I look forward to picking up chilies (dried or fresh) in New Mexico, but as a general rule when I get there the selection all comes from someplace in Mexico. Local honey I enjoy finding, and I have quite a stock of honeys from local sources from, oh, acacia and eucalyptus and generic desert flowers. I have a passion for fresh dates, and will be showing more of those when I get to southern California. On the more obscure side: I've just about exhausted my supply of teperary beans, a very nice dried bean that cooks more or less like a lentil, but I think I'll have to go back to the far south of Arizona to get more. I don't know when we'll get back there.

Brilliant! I wouldn't have thought of cooking meatloaf in a bundt cake pan, much less over / in the cooker like that!

Oh, my my my!

Dinner tonight was more fresh pasta, with more meat sauce. I should perhaps explain that I'm just learning about making and using fresh pasta; we usually do dried, or something else altogether. But there were leftovers to deal with. Last night's batch of pasta dough was far more than the two of us needed. Last night I'd made ravioli using a meat sauce brought from home. Tonight I used more of the same batch, but cut it into wide noodles instead. Those noodles were cooked, drained, and tossed with olive oil, chopped garlic, and more of the same meat sauce. I topped it off with grated parmesan and chopped parsley; added toast, and we were good to go. We also had microwaved broccoli and a hollandaise sauce from a few nights ago. Not necessary compatible with the pasta, but not bad either, and one must eat one's veggies. I will say this about fresh pasta: it really does have a delightfully different texture than the dried stuff. Those of you who've been doing this for a while may be saying "well, DUH" to such a statement. It's a revelation to us.

Thank you! We're moving tomorrow, and I'll try to include photos of the scenery when we're back in range. (I assume we'll have coverage tomorrow night, but I won't know until I get there.) Thank you! Actually, when we picked out this trailer I had to laugh: some of the accoutrements were things I hadn't been willing to spring for when we remodeled our kitchen. Thanks! Thank you! Let's see: with regard to falling off the shelves - or not - I've learned to: nest things carefully, with lots of padding;make sure ALL doors are firmly closed;use nonskid mats to keep things on countertops where necessary (this computer I'm using being a case in point) andinstall spring-loaded bars on the refrigerator shelves before we move to a new location. Maybe I'll include a photo at some point. We don't keep much glass around, and what we have is carefully padded to prevent breakage. A few weeks before we left on this trip I started a batch of sauerkraut in a 1-gallon glass canning jar. The thought of having it break in all its glorious acidic odor has ensured that it's carefully padded. Aside from all that, I will say that this trailer has a pretty good suspension. Things make noise, but on all but the worst roads the ride is pretty smooth. I haven't tried churning cream into butter, but it's an idea. Some friends of a much earlier era used to use that strategem for washing clothes in a sealed bucket while they were on the road, but I tend to wait for a better opportunity.

Thanks for blogging this week! And yes, I'd like to know your "first hot-climate Thanksgiving" plans also.

And, since Marlene began this thread, there has emerged a new term for this sort of camping: "Glamping." Where in Texas are you? Looks like down pretty far - maybe South Padre? Glamping! How appropriate! Not quite that far south. We're near Rockport at the moment. Tomorrow we head inland.

Why, sure! It's a compact but flexible kitchen. The sink is double-bowl stainless, with a faucet that can spray or stream water. There are counter inserts that fit over either or both sink basins to add counter space if needed...for instance, rolling out pasta. There's also a peninsula that's supposed to be a breakfast bar, based on the counter overhang and 2 bar stools. It can be used for extra counter space, but to be honest it's usually loaded up with baskets of fruit, potatoes, whatever. Of course I cleared it for photo ops. You can see it just at the left (sans clutter) in this picture. You, er, can also see a cat if you look carefully. Marco Polo still hasn't learned to take "Off!" for an answer. The main cooking appliance is a 3-burner stove with oven, all fired by propane. When we're plugged into electricity, as we are at the moment, we can also use the combination microwave/convection oven shown above the stove. It's also a range hood. The refrigerator and freezer run on either propane or electricity. They're usually jammed to the gills after we've been shopping. One of the routines before we start traveling is to install spring-loaded bars that prevent things from sliding off the shelves; every time I open the door after we've moved, I'm careful a la the airlines' caution that "contents may have shifted in flight". There's pretty good storage, and I've a good selection of cookware, spices, mixing and measuring bowls and a few small electric appliances. Most of it is in the kitchen area, but there's some overflow: a small crockpot is squirreled away where normal families might have, say, board games, and the pasta maker (hand-crank) lives in a plastic storage box in the bedroom closet. In addition to the electrics there's a lot of manual equipment (rolling pin, cutlery, juicer) since we actually spend a lot of time off the grid. The coffee pot and toaster are about the only things that live on the counter full-time. Here's the spice cabinet: it's narrow, but spacious because of the way the rack rolls out. We do bring along a Coleman camp stove and a small barbecue grill, along with the implements needed to cook over them. Those live in the outside storage box, and although we were using the camp stove earlier this week we probably won't bring it out again until we get farther west, to drier country. Or at least warmer!

That looks idyllic! I love your plates, by the way.

Tonight: ravioli, stuffed with tomato-meat sauce from home, tossed with olive oil, chopped garlic and grated parmesan.

*bump* It's time to revive this thread. Some years back, my darling and I took a road trip. I'd flown out to central California to visit my mother; he'd left somewhat earlier, being of the "retired" set, and taken his own time to arrive and pick me up. We drove back together, camping and seeing some of the sights. We took a week to get back. By the time we arrived back home, we agreed on three things: 1. We enjoyed it; 2. A week wasn't enough time for that trek; 3. A pickup-mounted camper shell wasn't big enough for the two of us and our (then) 60-pound Siberian Husky. We went shopping for something larger that we could live in for weeks on end. By the time we'd found a kitchen to suit me, we were up to a fifth-wheel trailer. Like Marlene, who started this topic, my darling and I like our comforts...and of course, I like to cook. Most "snowbirds" seem to pick a winter home and stay there; if they live in a trailer, they situate it in a trailer park, cheek by jowl with other trailers. We prefer the mobile experience. Don't like the view? Don't like the weather? Within limits, they can be changed at will. Furthermore, we can take advantage of the local foods, checking out what's available, figuring out how to cook it. Three days ago this was the view: and this was our food for the evening. Not the pelicans, but they were part of the pre-dinner entertainment. One of the gentlemen shown feeding pelicans had offered me some trout; he loved to catch them and had a beautiful stringer's worth. The very best fish is the kind that was flopping just hours ago. We had a fish fry that night on the family's venerable camp stove. If there's enough interest in this topic I'll get around to showing it; however, my attempts at photographing the lovely blue flower of flames from the burner, and the resultant dinner, were a bust. That's why you see the fish at the "being cleaned and feeding the pelicans" stage. A Texas "norther" was blowing in the next day, so we moved into the woods, where we were sheltered from the fierce wind. In Minnesota we get brisk winds and sudden chills, but even the storms that accompany an Alberta Clipper don't usually match the dramatic change of a "norther": in the space of a half hour, our weather dropped from 87F and 80% humidity to less than 50F and commensurate humidity. We didn't hang around outside. This was that night's meal: Chicken curry (with sauce from a Patak's jar) over rice, which (now that I look at the photo) looked MUCH better in real life. Dessert was homemade almond-vanilla ice cream: We enjoy shrimp along the Gulf Coast, barbecue in the Texas interior, and a multitude of produce farther west...but, given that I am an inveterate packrat who should be participating in the "Klatsch: Don't Shop Now!" topic, we also have plenty of canned, boxed, and frozen goods brought from home. Anyone else doing this sort of road-trip rambling cookery?

Ah, the inimitable and wonderful Miss Manners! As always she's amusing and insightful. I'm surprised she didn't raise the question of why her son, who presumably grew up used to her ways, is now grossed out by them. Maybe the answer is obvious. I've been put in my place, however: the only time I use napkin rings is as a decoration, for guests!

H! I'm hunkered down in Texas norther right now! What a contrast!

I love these stories. This is a great topic. Kerry, was there anything in particular about Minnie's way of doing smoked salmon that made it special? (If so, care to share?) And what do you mean by lemonade similar to lemon squash? And, er, since I'm asking...what about those sour cream cookies? Those sound dangerous...

My mother's mother was apparently quite a character, but I never met her. She seems to have been one of those "stay out of my kitchen" sorts, when she was cooking; they had household help that did some of the cooking also, but the children were never permitted to help. My mother arrived at marriage without having learned *anything* about cooking, and some of her early mishaps were hilarious. I offer this illustration of my mother's parents: The scene: at the dinner table, just having said grace. He, picking up his fork: "This is delicious" She: "You haven't even tasted it yet!" He: "looking" My father's mother was a great home cook, although looking back on it I think her most-used seasonings were salt, pepper and boundless love. The one thing I may have learned from Nana is her green beans. Today's chefs would dismiss them out of hand: they were soft and olive drab; all we cared about was their melt-in-the-mouth deep flavor. We tried (how we tried!) to learn how she made them. Cousin Sally took careful notes on at least one occasion. Nobody got it right. Eventually, I inherited Nana's green bean pots, along with Dad's story of how she got that set when he was 10 and she threw a Wearever party, like a Tupperware party, to earn them and some money for his birthday. That makes the pots of about 1929 vintage, and I use them today...and with a bit of bacon, a very little water, a lot of time and memories, I believe I have Nana's green beans about right.

Boy, howdy.