12 Days...

I can’t believe its only 12 days left till I’m told to remain seated with my seat belt fastened until the captain turns off the seat belt sign. 12 days till cups of ginger ale, no ice. 12 days until that feeling of sudden lightness in my chest as we leave the ground, that feeling that doesn’t go away no matter how many times I fly. 12 days. That’s it.

Its strange for me this summer, because all previous summers the end of summer meant back to school, textbooks papers and exams. Away from the ranch, back to the city. Away from my family. Away from swimming in the creek, basking in the summer sun, eating fruit fresh from the garden, away from cocktails in the evening, and hanging around the table with friends. Back to the fog.

Okay okay, it wasn’t as bad as that, but it certainly felt like that when leaving at the end of the summer. Its nice when I feel the summer deepening into a richer golden this time, I don’t have to feel dread, I have something to look forward to. But its also nice to be travelling somewhere without the desperate feeling of getting away from where I am. It’s a pleasant feeling, where I am, at 12 days. I’m in the right place.

Lately I’ve been planning my itinerary through Italy. At the end of September, we’ll be taking the ferry from Croatia to Italy, and from there we will travel by train to various places, and eventually up through Switzerland to France, and finally returning back to Belgium. However, the question is, how long do we want to spend in Italy, and where do we want to go? I’m for spending at least 4 days in Tuscany, and I’d love to stay somewhere in Cinque Terre—looks fabulous. I hear the seafood’s fucking great too.

{Riomaggiore in Cinque Terre}

When not on the computer, I’ve been helping out in the yard, doing a little reconstructing.  We also took a bike ride to the mouth of the river nearby. It was a lovely golden bike ride along the base of the hill, woods and houses on one side, sloping square fields of various colors on the other, ending in the ocean in the distance. We raced and meandered until we arrived at the mouth, which is a breathtaking site in its own right. The river comes straight at you on the left, curving right at your feet to join the ocean which is on your right. A thin dune of sand, grasses and sea lions separates the two. When looking at it all in front of you, you have the calm blue on the left, contrasted by the breaking waves on the left. It’s a great place to watch the sunset.

On the way back, we stopped at a little store and got ice cream and popsicles. I didn’t get one myself, and thus was made to work for my tastes, riding alongside at the right speed to put my mouth around the pina colada popsicle and get a bite—that is if he didn’t yank it away to tease me. It’s a good exercise in multi tasking, I’ll say that.

Back at the house, I brined the chickens for tomorrows lunch when we go fishing. Brining chickens is a sure way to make perfect chickens. We’ve found that brining them for an hour in 1 gallon of water to 1 cup of salt is just right. Then I rubbed a little butter and pepper on them and inside of them and popped them in the oven. I suppose I should go flip them now, the smell of roasting chicken is calling to me…

Garlic Drawing

Well, I suppose I don't just like to eat food... or make food... or talk about food... or fantasize about food... I like to draw food as well!

This is the product of an even spent skipping a movie in favor of drawing.

Fish Tacos

Fresh back from our walk out to the highway to see the herd of elk in the fields, we poured ourselves Ole Grandaddy whisky and cokes. The cast-iron skillets were put on the stove, oil poured in to heat up (not too high heat), and we mixed up a combination of cornmeal, flour, salt and pepper in a plastic bag (blow air into it to see it if has any leaks) for the rock fish. The fish was cut up earlier into thin strips, with the bellies put aside (as they are full of bones).  The piles of fish were pink and whitish and slightly translucent, ready to be coated with the cornmeal mixture. When the breaded pieces were gently laid into the oil, it popped and sizzled eagerly, exciting the ears and later the nose with tender buttery whiffs of fried fish.  The tortillas were heated and then dressed with salsa, onions, cilantro and more salsas before being topped off with crispy, barely golden pieces of fried fish and thinly sliced cabbage. Of course, there was as many methods of making tacos as there were people (which was 10), but we all agreed that they were delicious. For me, the taste of the salted fish—its mixture of ocean and fried cornmeal—filled my mouth, with the cilantro spiking in, a crunch of sweet onion there, and a gentle burn on the back and sides of my tongue, the steady creaminess of the corn tortillas—all was perfect. 

The delights of homebrewed beer....

I was looking at this photo on my computer felt the need to post it. Its an APA that my friends brew, and it is just delicious. I took it a few days ago when we were all sitting outside under the maple tree, late in the afternoon, enjoying the gradual abatement of the day's heat. Shortly after taking the photo, we traveled down the hill to the garden to admire the growth and revel in each other's company as the sun went down. We tasted the first radishes too, reds and purples bright in their crispy spiciness.   

Pictures as promised...

The Sourdough loaves....

The Rich White Bread

And all of them together!

Here goes!

I'm sure everyone who starts a blog feels a bit hesitant when writing their first post, I mean after all, it seems like you're writing to nobody. Who will read this? Who are you? Do I know you? Will anyone read it? Perhaps someday I'll look back and laugh at myself. Perhaps I'll forget about this blog completely. I sure as hell don't know. 

Well then, my mysterious reader, perhaps I should stop this blabbering and get back to the here and now. After all, this is a culinary blog, is it not? However, I know that some of my adventures will not be entirely food based, I must warn you now. 

Okay, for today's culinary adventures: bread and more bread. I am currently in Northern California, and it is quite warm out, though not as blisteringly hot as it has been. This is  fortunate, as we fired up the earth oven today to bake 16 loaves of bread that my sister and I measured, mixed, kneaded and shaped this morning. I love making bread, especially kneading it. The feel of sticky, gooey dough firming and developing shape under my fingers is a true delight, becoming smooth and silky so that you just can't stop touching it.  We made 8 loaves of rich white bread, and 8 of a sponge sourdough (not a true starter). They turned out beautifully, the earth oven cooks them more quickly and uniformly than a conventional oven. The warm yeasty creamy smell wafting out of the oven made us feel like snatching them out of the oven, slicing them up and slathering them with butter. (We didn't though, we took our afternoon nap instead. Thus all the loaves are lined up on the kitchen counter, unmolested).

Thus my first post comes to a close, as cherry pie time has been announced (can't miss that!). I don't have much experience with this whole blog thing, so I hope you enjoy. And if you want to know more about the bread, I highly recommend Bernard Clayton's Book of Breads. 

Oh yes, and pictures to follow later.