snowangel

We watched the Twins nail it tonight with popcorn. Let's not talk about Norm "Duluth is on Lake Erie" Coleman.

Larb. Or bacon. Oh my, that's a tough call.

As everything in my garden starts to show the signs of the First Hard Frost, I am comforted by the fact that soon, I will have brussels sprous, which have not only been touched by frost, but will need to be rescued from the garden (on an as need basis) that have been touched by snow. Grandma Welsch always said they were best when they had been dusted with the "white stuff" and me does think she was referring to that snow that flies when the skies get cold and dark. So, there. But, this thread keeps me going during those days when I'm not sure that anything will ever thaw here. Post lots during that December to February time-period, please.

Thanks for the reminder! Tomorrow is a busy day; a field trip for me with Peter's 3rd grade class, race home to get Heidi off the bus; Paul watch Diana play volleball seems to me an easy dinner. Chili dogs! Cheap hot dogs, canned Hormel chili, chips, Coca-Cola for the kids, beerr the adults. Forgive me. We will sin tomorrow night. And cheer on the Minnesota Twins. BTW, I have been to one World Series game. Only one. It would have been in 1987, 7th game. When the Twin took the series for the first time. It was grand. So grand I threw up, barely missing the woman in front of me. Edited to add: if one wants a great story of how those tickets landed in my lap, let me know.

Seemingly stupid question. Crock pot on high or low? (Mine only has two settings; it is a big old Rival one, one of my two takes from my grandmother's hosue when she died some 15 years ago.)

Kristen, how do the Costco prices in Japan compare to those in the U. S.? (Assuming that you made a trip to Costo on your last jaunt to Cleveland.) Edited to add: Of that bounty, what was yours?

Klink, I think fifi has one thing right. You don't know what Ann is want to going to eat. But, I do give a cheer for soup. Some stock (chicken or beef). Freeze the meat either in the stock or in small separate containers covered with fat. Make sure there are packages of frozen peas and corn in the freezer. Lentil or split pea soups freeze well. Warm yourself without your honey on these increasingly cold nights by making soup or stock. Freeze the stock (with or without meat) in single serving sizes. She could thaw in the nuker, add a handful of veg and some noodles. Don't forget to bring her good bread from the cities; either the Wedge or French Meadow. Bread freezes pretty well, and toast is always good. Assuming you get up to Duluth more often now to feed the freezer and freidge, how about making a frittata before you leave on Sunday afternoon? Wedges of that would keep her for the fist couple of days. Take up some good cheese to pair with the bread that doesn't go into the freezer. Pick up some nice fruit and veg from the Wedge. Apples and cheese? And, when you leave Duluth on Sunday nights, make sure that there are eggs in the fridge and butter in the larder. One of the things I learned was that my body was working so hard on gestating that I needed fairly easily-digested things to eat. So, me wonders how you are going to juggle this 2-1/2 hour communite once Little Klink or Little Batgrrrl comes around? I'm excited for you. And, excited that we will add another kid to the EG MSP crowd!

First off, thanks for participating in this Q & A. I am a stay-at-home mom, and with the three kids now in school, my goal this winter is Bread. Pizza. Anything yeasted. Or sourdoughed. I love good bread, which is hard to find in this area. I am not concerned about low carb. My kids are appreciating good bread -- something with taste, texture and crust. And, in anticipation of such, I have three of your books, laying on the nightstand, awaiting perusal. I have had some OK (ok, so mediocre success) with bread. When and how will the moment of revelation occur? Where do I start? How do I get going? What's really important?

When I think about most of our weekends at the cabin, they are made up of moments. And, from this past weekend, many moments: A good portion of our drive was after dark, which is not common now that I'm a full-time at-home'er. But, it is getting dark early. I love when the headlights carve a tunnel through the canopy of trees. Likewise, There is something magical about looking out of the passenger window, somewhere just north of Cook, to see a huge, almost full moon rising. We arrive. It is cold. About 30; it is about 40 in the cabin. We start the generator (for more light) and hoist Peter through a window (we forgot the key). The first thing that Paul does is start a fire in our soapstone stove. I use that opportunity to put coffee water and washing water on. We do have a box fan which we use to circulate the warm air throughout the cabin. We arrived at 8:30 pm, and by 11:00 pm (bed time), we have the place to a nice warm 70 (degrees all fahrenheit). Then, another moment. As things are warming, Diana and Peter do charades for us. All sorts of things. Peter was working on food items. Since it was dark when we arrived, we have not been able to check leaf status, so I leave the shade open on one of the windows in our room. We nestle in, warm, cozy and happy to be where we are. I awake the next morning to the smell of coffee brewing, open eyes, and look out that window, to see a maple, in full red splendor. The birch beside it is half green, half gold. Peter bounds into my bed. He has been to the outhouse, and since it is cold outside, when I kiss his cheek, I can smell that smell of cold on him. Trust me, when a cheek is really cold, it smells different. Another moment. That first smell of cold cheeks When the pot is ready, I shag it out, don jeans and sweatshirt (too chilly for the tank top and jams that were my summer morning clothes)an head to the outhouse. The seat is really cold when it is 30. Another moment. I run back inside and grab that first cuppa and a smoke. No dock so coffee on the deck. This is what I saw. It is a spectacular, sunny, but windy day. The birds, by enlarge, are gone. We saw a few robins (they will leave when the water closes) and some gulls. Then, it's in for breakfast. Another one of those moments. Peter "Mom, I made all of the beds, and have the pan out for sausages. I also got out the waffle maker and stuff. And, I set the table!" So, it is patty sausages, waffles, butter, syrup, orange juice, milk, bananas. Then, another moment as Peter decides it's time for him to start doing dishes. We have a double sink, and have two Rubbermaid wash tubs. One for washing, one for rinsing. Boiling water into each. The wash side gets Dawn and some cold water to bring it to a little boy temp. He washes, I rinse (in boiling water). I dry. Dishes rinsed in boiling hot water dry really fast. And, a good dryer gets what the washer missed. We take a walk down the road. Guns in hand. Only see one grouse, and decide that it is better that this has a chance to breed. Perhaps we are on the upswing of the 11-year (or is it a 7-year?) cycle. Paul and the kids decide to take a drive. So, I have another moment. Me, alone in the cabin, tunes cranked (thanks KAXE), a sliced honeycrisp apple, slices of Eichtens aged (3-year) gouda, a glass of white wine, knitting, sitting in the rocker by the big windows, sun streaming over me. I turn the radio off and revel in the silence. Not a gunshot, vehicle, bird or anything. Just the occasional creak of the rocker. A honking of a vehicle stirs me out of my warm sun/knitting stupor. I run outside. Diana is behind the wheel of the Bronco. She has had her first driving lesson. Another moment. The kids and Paul have sandwiches (cheese, bread, salami, liverwurst, mustard), chips, bananas, washed down with beer or Coke (age appropriate). We have gone up every first weekend of October since 1980 to celebrate Paul's early October birthday, save one (Diana was born just a few days before, and we did wait that year until she was about 2 weeks old to make the trip). So, Saturday afternoon, Diana bakes a cake. Paul wants German chocolate. Cake is from a mix (sorry, but unsure of what was up there), frosting (coconut/pecan) from scratch. Peter took charge of the frosting, and did an interesting job of garnishing the cake with pecan halves. For dinner, we had steaks, green beans (seared and steamed; they were the best of the season), roasted potatoes. I smushed Heidi's up and tucked in some hardboiled eggs. Oh, and I sliced up some really good tomatoes and chiffonaded a few fresh basil leaves and drizzed some EVOO on them. Paul and I washed it down with a pinot, the kids with limeade. The kids each (except Heidi) get a sip of wine, and are charged with trying to describe the wine. These are more of these moments. Watching Diana mince the garlic, sear the beans, pepper the steaks. Peter taking extra care to set the table. As Peter and Diana clear the table, I cry "outside everyone!" This is what we saw. Another one of those moments. The next moments are going through the cupboards, while waiting for the wash water to boil. Canned goods must all come home (mostly tuna). Got to the back of the cupboard, and realized that some of the "treasures" were as old as Diana. Pitch. We figured that the fish sauce, curry paste, chili-garlic sauce and toasted rice powder (in a glass jar, securedly sealed) would winter well, and not attract mice. Build another fire. Another moment. Really old dried pasta looks really cool when it is burning. Sort of flashes. After games of Milles Bournes, Scrabble, charades, and a toddy, it is off to bed. We are greated the next morning with a light rain, and pretty heavy wind. Today, it was bacon and pancakes for breakfast, pancakes topped with the rest of the fresh eggs fried in bacon grease. Is there anything better? Knitting, reading, homework, listening to Will Shortz on that Sunday morning NPR show we listen to every Sunday we're at the cabin. Clean up. Floors mopped, beds stripped, everything buttoned down for the winter. More of those moments. I look at my kids. Recall bringing Heidi and Diana up when they were a scant two weeks old. Going through that pile of shoes under the bed and realizing that most of them will never fit any of my kids again. We fill the woodbox inside the cabin, hoping we won't need to use any of it next May. We walk to the point to say good bye. We do a final walk through of the cabin -- touch the surfaces, and remember. We locked the door, had a final hug at the edge of the lake, and all will remember. More of those moments. A summer that seemed way to short (and we were shorted on weather!) But, we will remember watching the kids grow, gain confidence is swimming. Watched a 14-year old girl drive a vehicle for the first time. Caught fish. Had wonderful nights laying on the deck or dock identifying constellations. Skinny-dipped. Fed our tummies and souls with pure food. As we walked away from the lake for the last time, my non-verbal Heidi, I'm sure, was saying "this was the best summer ever." The water and the air were cold, so Peter and I did not savor an early October swim. That was a moment we chose to forego. I left, as I always do this particular weekend, with a tear in my eye. But with the knowledge that come mid-May 2005, we will begin another season of many moments. Every summer is the best, especially when spent at The Cabin. More moments to come in 2005. Edited to add: The stack and additional ventilation we added to the outhouse (yes, this is food-related!) have greatly improved the smell situation. In addition, the level "of stuff in the hole" is greatly reduced. Ventilation in an outhouse is key.

Anchovies.

Use a spatula, not bare fiingers, to dig down into the food processor (blade in place) to redistrubute stuff. Bandaids (the fabric kind) are my friend. Do not leave bananas on top of the fridge when you are leaving for 2 weeks.

When I return from The Cabin, I do need to get to the farmer's market and get a cabbage and do this one. Yes, Anna N, it sounds awesome.

Thailand. Bangkok. No matter where I stayed. Food? Street vendors, markets.

Ironic that today, after I packed all of the kids off to school, I opened today's Star Tribune. There, on the front page of the Taste section, was an interview with you, done by Rick Nelson. The contuniton on the second page was "headlined" "Back To Life Without The Expense Account." However, other than saying that you no longer ate out 360 days a year, and lost a lot of weight, you never talked about what you did eat post-reviewer. Did you cook? What did you cook? If you ate out, where did you eat? Could you comment? And, as a mother, I wonder, too, how hold your son was when you were reviewing and where he figured into your dining out habits while you were reviewing?

No photos. We had a last summer meal. A hard freeze is soon. Time to enjoy while we can. Sweet corn. BLT's. Best tomatoes of the season. Ice cream (peach). Sigh. Time to braise.

The Bronco, with the exception of the coolers and the larb Diana will eat on the drive up, is packed. The gas tank if full, and I've checked oil and coolant. We just may see the first F words (flakes) of our season. It will be chilly, me thinks, according to the Kenora weather report (most reliable for our area). We will be on the road by 4:00 pm; earlier than in the summer, because daylight wanes earlier, and the cabin will probably be cold, and we do want to get it warm before we put the young ones to bed. (The core of the mattresses gets cold at this time of year.) We will stop once. In Cook, at the Spur station, for milk, eggs, and ice (they take up too much room in the cooler, and we will need ice for cocktails). Since the casualty of our move was the key to the cabin, we will hoist Peter through a window, he will open the door. Paul will light the fire, and I will turn on the gas, get the fridge, pilot lights, and gas lights going. We may even start the generator for the vehicle unload. Paul and I have done this "first weekend of October trip" for 25 years together. With and without kids. It is tradition, as He says. Early Saturday morning, I will wake, start the teapot for hot water for coffee (I will actually grind coffee the night before) since we Melita into a thermal carafe at the cabin. While that pot is heating, I will eagerly look outside to see how much change there has been. In folage, in birds, in the light. On the menu: Breakfasts are a given. Waffles, eggs, pancakes, sausage, bacon, fruit, yogurt. Lunches. Noshing. I have great aged gouda and tilset from Eichtens. Liverwurst. Some great summer sausage from the Nicollet Meat Market. Carrots. Leftover cold green beans (a favorite of mine, especially dipped in Malle Dijon). Bread from the Wedge. Bananas. Dinner (only one dinner on Saturday night). Chuck eye steaks. Beautiful slim, tender green beans, new potatoes the size of big marbles, the best tomatoes I have had all season. Although there may be flakes, we will pretend it's summer. Reminder to self. Pick up bottles of wine, some beer. Better also get something higher proof, as well, as one does not want to waste bladder space on non-high proof when the temps dip to the 30 (f) and the biffy is an outhouse. Weather indicates we will not take fishing gear, but use what is up there if we feel like fishing. There comes a time in the year when it is actually more comforatable to ice fish than open water fish, and indications are that this will be one of those weekends. If we get grouse this weekend, great. If not, we will have had a wonderful walk along the road. Complete with all of the food that is necessary to feed one's tummy and soul. Ah, The Cabin.

Thanks =Mark. I have a bit of leftover pulled pork, and have been looking for something other than pulled pork on a bun (or with fingers). And, jalapeno's are dirt cheap at the farmer's market these days. So cheap, in fact, that bushels of japalenos are running $3.00 per, and bushels of Thai bird chilis are about $3.50 per. Which leads me to wonder just what one would do with a bushel of bird chilis?

Diana is going to have to eat supper in the car tomorrow when we leave for the Cabin. She's requested larb. For ease in eating in the car, she suggested I tear up the lettuce and put it in a plastic bag so she can add it to the larb and eat it with a fork like a salad. My friends are jealous that my 14 year old daughter requests larb. She likes her's with lots of bird chilis on it

No, just a generous friend for whom I've done a few favors this summer.

Brining, as some other's have suggested. Interesting that most supermarket pork these days is of that ultra-lean variety, and I do believe than in breeding for this ultra-lean characteristic, much of the flavor has been lost (remember, fat is flavor) and they compensate by injecting with some sort of solution of something (saline?). Get good pork from a butcher, one who is buying something other than the lean, over-bred variety.

I, like Fifi, can get so wrapped up in other stuff that a timer is essential. Put it in my pocket!

I'm coming into a lot of pork chops. They will be mostly center and rib chops, grown by a farmer in southern MN who grows a few pigs to satisfy self and friends. His pork is excellent, and a far cry from that way too lean, rather tasteless supermarket stuff. Need ideas, please!

Auto temp control just doesn't sound like nearly as much fun as sitting there, in the summer sun, drinking beer, and using this as an excuse to monitor the temp.

Thanks again for participating. What is your take on the term "authentic?" As an example, at various time, people have asked or questioned about certain foods as being authentic. Just what is "authentic?" Hearkening back to my Thailand background, a few have mentioned authentic Pad Thai. Recalling my many memories, it was different at every vendor. Likewise, was the raw pork larb which hailed from northern Thailand any less authenic that the poached pork of the central Thailand region? The same could be said of signature dishes of any area of the world. Your thoughts on the term "authenic" when applied to food.

When I did laundry today, I packed the duffle bags. We leave Friday, mid afteroon. I will pull the kids early from school for The Last Trip of the Season to the Cabin. We must get up. For mental health and those jackets that are up there. I will purchase goceries on Thursday. Paul wants steak on Friday night, so my favorite butcher will make sure I get enough chuck eye's. The tomatoes have been spectacular, of late, so they will be featured. This will be a bittersweet trip. Those tears as we leave for the last time as we buttone everyting up. All of the memories of the past summer. The promise of a new year. Tradition. Paul has a birthday the first week of October. For his birthday, every year, for the past 26, we have been going to the cabin. So, on Friday night, after dark, we will arrive. We will not be greeted by the June and July fireflies, but the need for a fire in the soapstone stove. We will have been steeled by tuna salad sandwiches in the car (tuna salad sandwiches, in sandwich plastic bags are just about the neatest sandwiches to eat in the car), but the kids will want s'mores (marshmallows toasted over the right front burner on the gas stove). We will turn on the radio and sit up late until the cabin is warm, telling stories, guessing at Peter's charades. We will walk the road, shotguns in hand, hoping for grouse. We may ish, but the boat has been "dry docked" for the winter, so perhaps not.