My son wanted me to make basil olive oil. Huh. I'd never had it. But it just so happened that suzanne1943 had brought some fresh from her garden! I wrapped it up in a paper sack and let it dry about a month before picking the leaves off and crumbling them into the food processor where I turned it into powder, and placed it in the round-bottomed jar before filling it with EVOO.

The smaller bottle is what's left of the chili oil.

When my son's friend stopped by the house with a sack full of freshly-picked peaches, I had no idea what to do with them. Then I looked over at the cast iron skillet hanging on my kitchen wall - a gift from drax0r - and knew exactly what had to be done: I made a cobbler using drax0r's recipe in the very pan he'd made peach cobbler in my last night there.

How did it turn out? I have no idea. I took it to the family who brought me the peaches.


drax0r's cast iron skillet peach cobbler

I took this picture at the Canterbury Cathedral in 1991 during a European road trip when my roommate and I changed permanent duty stations from Shierstein Kasern, Germany to RAF Moslesworth, England.


Christ in Glory welcoming children of all nations



But this post isn't about Europe, or even about Jesus. And while I wouldn't go so far as to call a brother an amateur feeding 5000 men with "no more but five loaves and two fishes" I will detail my own similar deeds during Winter Storm Q.

Having little else in the kitchen during the GREAT HOME IMPROVEMENT PROJECT (with no way to get my car on the road) and needing to feed myself, my two children, and their four friends, I put on Mahler's 8th Symphony (Symphony of a Thousand) and manifested an entire platter of pancakes with a single egg borrowed from a neighbor kid's mom, the last of the flour, six teaspoons of baking soda, a quarter-cup of EVOO, a tablespoon of brown sugar, half a cup of heavy whipping cream, some water, and a quarter-cup of homemade vanilla.

Its not every day my children sing songs of praise in my name, but this time they were even joined by their friends.

We all remember the muu'muu. Good times. But it just so happens the same guy who brought me back that floral-print, also brought with him some knowledge gained from a tour of the Hawaiian vanilla factory. He told me the secret to making custom vanilla extract at home!

Now his wife loved baking rum cakes for the holidays, so she used white rum. I'm not a vodka drinker, but when I mix drinks, I always use Stoli, so it seemed the most inoffensive (flavorless) choice. Of course they mail-ordered perfect-pure Good Hawaiian vanilla beans in a DIY starter-kit, and you can to! Or, save $20 + shipping and run down to your local HFS. I got this jar at the McKinney Target.

Drink a shot (or two) before you start! This is important for many, many reasons!!! (Only one of which is to make room for the vanilla beans.)

Observe the texture of the bean. Touch it. Caress it. Place the tip of your tongue to its leathery outer shell. Close your eyes. Take another shot of vodka...

STAT! You're a sturgeon and its time to operate! Using a small, sharp knife, make an incision the entire length of the bean. I tried to not penetrate the bean entirely.

Open it up to take in its expensive aroma. This is what will slowly leach out for the next 10-years or so.

Place the slit beans in the bottle and re-cap. Place in a cool, dry cupboard for a minimum of three month to allow for the initial flavor.

After three months you can begin using it as you would store-bought vanilla extract. The bottle should produce flavor for the next ten years with this one simple rule: Everytime you use some, refill the bottle with fresh.

Enjoy!

ehowton & friend

I like good beer. Crisp pilsners, flavorful ales, strong stouts and light lagers. In Germany the beer you order is served in that beer's branded glass, and outside a fest stein, a glass particular to the type of beer ordered. Pilsner comes in a pilsner glass, weizens in a weizen glass, and so on and so forth. Drinking beer in Germany is not just a pastime, its an entire culture.

In England, due to strict regulations, all beer of any variety is mandated to only be served in an "Imperial Pint" that is, a bulged conical glass with the mark of the Queen etched into it certifying that you are being served a full legal pint. And let me tell you - those of you who've never tasted unpasteurized British beer have zero comparison to the bottled stuff they export to the United States.

I get downright giddy when I think of my time overseas, and all the fantastic beer I consumed. Sometimes, cracking open a mini-keg of German beer, I weep. I weep for what's been lost in the pasteurization process. Then I drink. I drink and weep. But eventually the beer cheers me up and I stop weeping.

Now some of you may have heard that us Texans are a rather proud people. And while that's true, we're also usually pretty honest. If something sucks, we'll say so, even if its to our own detriment. Its a matter of pride (see how that works?) For example, I'm not a fan of domestic wines, and of all the domestic wines California wines are the bane of my existence, but I'll be the first to say that Texas wine is worse. We simply do not have the ability to produce good wine. But we do make good beer.

Enter Spoetzl Brewery. I won't repeat anything you can read on Wikipedia, but it was during my Pilsner Urquel days in STL that drax0r called me, begging me to try Spoetzl's flagship beer, Shiner Bock. As many of you know, I'm not what you'd call an, "early adopter" so I dismissed him until I could no longer. Many kegs of the stuff later, I became an outspoken proponent of the work they were doing in the little brewery in Shiner, Texas. I love their bock, I love their black lager, and I love their 100th anniversary doppelbock. For the United States to have a beer this good, makes me weep less.


Shiner Family Reunion

More recently, my excitable friend drax0r discovered Shiner Smokehaus. Once again, I didn't have time for his "Ooooh, shiny!" behavior. And much like the time he bought Boondock Saints for me because I wouldn't have otherwise watched it, he also bought me entire cases of Shiner Smokehaus. Sadly, he always ended up drinking them before I had an opportunity to upturn the bottle to my lips.

So there I was, gearing up for unixwolf's visit to Anna when I spied a six-pack of the stuff in the cooler nestled between other flavors of Shiner. A lightbulb went off in my head, and I picked it up. When I got home, I cracked it open. And Just like the scene in Ratatouille when the food critic is instantly transported to his happy childhood at his first bite, so it was with me when that delicious beer entered my mouth, and swirled down my throat. I was in my father's backyard and he was smoking brisket on the smoker, with a side of smoke.

You see, Smokehaus is brewed with malt which has been smoked with mesquite. And while it seems unlikely that this would affect the taste of the beer much, I assure you, I was drinking a smoked brisket. It was fanastic. Some of the beers overseas are so filling, they're affectionately called, "liquid bread." I've had those beers - its not an exaggeration. I submit to you, dear reader, that I was drinking "liquid smoked brisket" and God was it fantastic. I've never (and I mean never) tasted anything like it in all my travels of this globe. Belgian monks? Pussies.

When my folks came down, I pulled out my mesquite smoking chips, and soaked them in Shiner Smokehaus beer prior to placing the metal basket on the heat shield of my gas grill. I smoked those burgers a good 20-minutes before applying fire to them. I know that every time I grill burgers, I tell you that they're the best burgers I've ever grilled. But I hope you can now appreciate that when I say these were the best burgers I've ever grilled, you've got a little history and understanding of why these were the best burgers I've ever grilled.

A couple of weeks ago while my wife was out of town, my old boss and I met up with drax0r for some ice cold beer-a at the only bar in Anna, TX - Swagger.

After a couple of rounds, we ordered pub food from the menu and drax0r asked for the "Super Swagger Hot Buffalo Wings." Now I'm not a fan of Buffalo Wings, but what transpired will not soon be forgotten.

As soon as he placed the order the waitress attempted to dissuade him with warnings, but drax0r merely dismissed her with a wave of his hand announcing he'd had them here before. While that was true, what he didn't know was that they'd since changed the recipe.

The manager himself brought the wings to our table, and explained that they were now made with Dave's Insanity "Private Reserve" Hot Sauce, which came in an autographed, numbered bottle shipped in a tiny coffin - made from the Naga Jolokia "Ghost Pepper" which is currently the hottest pepper in the world at approximately One Million Scoville Units (for comparison a Habanero pepper is between 100,000-350,000). Furthermore, there was a contest of sorts that if any one person could clear a plate of ten in under five minutes (after signing a waiver), there would be a prize of a t-shirt, and a framed photograph of the "winner" on the wall.

He sat the dish down on the table and left. We all just stared at it.

Using only the pad at the end of our index fingers, drax0r and I each touched just the surface of a wing and popped it into our mouth. Several minutes later, when we were able to talk again, we attempted to articulate to our boss just how "hot" hot was. Apparently misunderstanding, she performed the same maneuver which caused her to begin beating us like a side of beef for misleading her. How she could've missed our reaction and words of caution were beyond us.

drax0r ordered a glass of milk and a slice of bread before proceeding - as water is a poor refreshment, usually just spreading around the pain. Milk binds to the capsicum, and the bread absorbs it. I called him a pussy and ate one.

HOLY SHIT!

In the midst of my bravado, he handed me a pepper which I resolutely popped into my mouth and chewed. Judging by his expression, it was something not only I shouldn't have done, but something he hadn't expected me to do. I found out later why - it was a raw Habanero. Now, I'm not going to say I'm tough, because that's not what happened. However, because the "Ghost Pepper" sauce was so freaking hot the Habanero had no effect whatsoever on me, and was in fact, rather refreshing comparatively.

His milk and bread arrived. He ate one, and we left a plate of eight.

Now drax0r and I enjoy hot & spicy food, but Dave's Special Reserve Insanity Hot Sauce is simply too hot to be used in foodstuffs. Of course as fate would have it, I rubbed my eye prior to washing my hands - and while that put a damper on things, certainly not as much as drax0r touching something else prior to washing his hands, which brought the evening to an abrupt halt.

I doubt I will try those again.

The Taco Bowl - Natures most perfect food.

Every day (for those of you who don't understand, or don't know me: Every. Single. Day.) I eat a Taco Bowl for lunch. Not only are these fantastically delicious, but from a more frugal standpoint, they deliver the most volume for the money (A must for business-provided dine-in cafeterias). Added to this equation is the 'tasty' factor. The higher cost items are generally more palatable - and this bowl runs $4.95 (not high, mind you, but the cafe holds drawings weekly to give you a free meal if you spent over $7 for lunch). Add to this already overwhelming support - it supplies me with all my basic food groups to survive. It fills me with energy, and cheesy-goodness simultaneously.



The gentleman who hand-crafts my lunch everyday is Hispanic, as he should be to be able to more perfectly adorn his handiwork. Every day I approach, with a smile on my face, and his brightens when he sees me. I no longer have to tell him what I want in my bowl, or that I even want a bowl. He already knows. The Mexican-seasoned ground beef is the first layer, filling the golden crispy shell about a quarter full. Atop this, a scoop and a half of piping hot fresh refried beans, filling in the nooks and crannies of the beef below it, letting gravity do its job. Spanish rice is next. The bowl is half full at this point. Two scoops of perfectly seasoned chili con carne (spicy Mexican chili) bubble its way down the sides of the bowl, encapsulating the beans, binding the rice, and a rather healthy scoop of chili con queso (spicy Mexican cheese sauce) which tops the bowl off at approximately three-quarters filled.

Each day I thank him profusely and wish him well, each day he nods and smiles, knowing he'll see me again tomorrow. From the line, onto the garnish! The cold-food buffet is only a few steps away, but this must be done quickly in order for the shredded cheddar to begin its melt process be placed atop the hot, now mingling chilies (The shredded cheddar is best when slightly melted into the mixture). Now then - I've done this quite a few times, and in quite a few different ways, and here's the recipe which works best for me:

Atop the half-melted cheddar, three or four healthy scoops of chunky pico de gallo (a mix of diced tomatoes, onion & (bell, pablano or serrano) peppers garnished with cilantro). I like to put this directly on top, in the middle, allowing me to carefully circumscribe the entire inner edge of the bowl with the fresh made mild salsa before strategically placing pickled jalapeño slices around the mound of pico de gallo. A single double-sized dollop of sour cream usually flattens everything underneath it, and I place nearly a half-head of shredded lettuce as my finishing ingredient. The finished bowl weighs about 10-pounds.

My eyes are burning. I'm tired at the end of a busy day, doing mostly mundane things, but things which needed to be done. All that nonsense is behind me now and perhaps tomorrow I can do nothing at all - my usual weekend goal.

When I awoke this morning I turned to my wife and said, "I haven't made burgers in a good long time." That was all it took - after breakfast I packed up the kids to buy 2-lbs of fresh ground sirloin. In between I filled up with gas, washed the car, bought a log of scooby-snack, and two boomerangs for the children we later threw around the park before I dropped them off at their friend's house. With the children gone my wife and I moved & assembled the rest of their bedroom in the basement (where they've been sleeping on just their mattresses since the tree fell through the root) and then tended to the vehicles getting them ready for this next week. Once I was cleaned up, I began the careful selection of ingredients which were to be mixed into the sirloin, lit the grill, and seared the perfectly-formed patties with a good side of smoke, basting mine in Tabasco's Chipotle sauce. With the sliced onion, tomatoes & sharp cheddar cheese on the toasted buns & the burgers fresh off the grill, they were, in a word, perfect. You can't buy burgers like that. The children arrived with three other neighborhood friends so I grilled them up two packages of dogs which were quickly devoured.

Afterwards, I hit PX Liquors where I bought another bottle of Isle of Jura (which the wife enjoys) and a bottle of Sheep Dip, an 8-year-old bottle of scotch which came recommended due to its 'unique' flavor. I'm all about unique. I will shortly update my spreadsheet and edit my previous entry with my findings. Fixed my neighbor's printer between glasses of scotch, read to the children, and put them to bed.

Worked tirelessly on my "Best of 2006" soundtrack CD - adding one of the few title tracks on there, "Long, Long Time Ago" from Pan's Labyrinth which I rec'd in the mail today, deleting one track, and replacing one with another from Casino Royale. I also chose to add a track from the DVD Done The Impossible which wasn't even a released documentary, but did have an accompanying soundtrack. I also decided to add Track 17 "Prelude to War" from Battlestar Galactica Season Two. All this and I'm still only 45 minutes into my 80-minute compilation. I've been working on this for months, re-listening to some scores with a very critical ear. Its exhausting, and I love every minute of it.

I turn into a pumpkin at midnight.

Last night, I remembered omelette's. I was at one client site on and off for something like six years across two accounts. And there was this man, Richard. He was the short-order cook. Came in every morning early, and hand chopped all the vegetables and meats, and hand broke and whipped the eggs. He was a great man. Every morning, on and off for something like six years, he would make me an omelette for breakfast. He would put a little oil on the griddle and spread it out. While it was heating he would grab a styrofoam plate and pile upon it diced green peppers, crumbled bacon & sausage, sliced black olives, chopped tomato, diced onion & ham, and of course, sliced jalepenos. Once these ingredients were gathered, he'd put it on the oil, mix it up a bit, and move it to the side. With this a little more oil he'd spread out with his spatula and a ladlefull of whipped eggs atop it. As the egg bubbled, he'd gather up a nice portion of shredded cheese and cover the egg while turning the other ingredients on the grill. The smell alone...wow. I used to wait with gleeful anticipation of it all coming together. He'd fill the egg with three-quarters of the mixture and deftly fold it over itself before placing it on a plate and then topping the creation with the last quarter of ingredients from the grill, and topping that again with cheese. Now, this wasn't my favorite part. My favorite part was topping the omelette with the fresh cream gravy made every morning. This would melt the cheese atop the omelette, and I would lastly pour a healthy portion of Cholula on the gravy. These are my fondest memories of Richard, the short-order cook. Nowadays, I go to IHOP for a ham & cheese and an order of gravy on the side. It's not Richard's omelette, and I've tried to make them myself the way he could, and have failed. At least IHOP keeps Cholula on the table. Richard retired six months ago. You will be missed sir.

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In concluding the first segment of this missive, and understanding that some of my readers may not have been familiar with Cholula, I chose to provide a link to my hot-sauce of choice. This isn't your boring Louisiana cayenne & vinegar hot sauce. This is the real-deal. Anyway, in linking it, I found myself on their web page and realized that I'd never been there before. This in and of itself wasn't exciting, but the discovery of new Cholula seasonings in three flavors was VERY exciting. I immeditely tried to purchase a case online, but couldn't find the 'sample pack' of them, that is, two of each of the flavors. All they sell is a case of six of any one flavor. Spying the contact number on the sidebar (a damn rare thing these days) I reached for the batphone and made the call. A very pleasent-sounding lady answered and after explaining my dilemna, she said, "What's your name?" I told her. "Are you going to put in an online order right now?" YES! YES! YES! "Ok, I'll flag the order when it comes in and make you a sample pack to ship out." Woo-hoo! Now, shipping is fully one-third the cost of the case, but hey, it's Cholula!

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Couple years ago some doctors came onto the Oprah show to talk about their new breakout book, YOU: The Owners Manual. They said some radical things and explained things with their enthusiam and visual aids that really stuck a chord with America and made a personal difference in my life. Yesterday, they were on Oprah again, and once again, another breakthrough book which my wife had purchased yesterday, the day it was released, YOU: On A Diet (Waist Management) and Oprah couldn't say enough fascinating things about it, and the doctors. "They have unlocked the secret to weight-loss and a healthy lifestyle," she said. I then heard her say, "America needs to know this!" Everyone was very excited. I was very excited. The show begins. It had the same amount of enthusiam and visual aids as the last time. A lot of information, a lot of excitement. The show concludes. Now, I want to save you a little money, as I have the book, will read it, and I did watch the show (there's a follow-up on Discovery Health tonight at 2200). I will tell you what the secret is, according to these two outstanding doctors:

• Eat a healthy diet.


• Exercise.

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I made an appointment to get an oil change this morning, as they were too busy last night. They promised me it wouldn't take more than half an hour. It took an hour. I perused the selection of magazines and finally settled on 'Ebony' as it was the most interesting magazine there. There was a lot of talk of politics, and a special on Jesse Jackson. There was a quote in there I agreed with (by none other than Al Sharpton believe it or not) who suggested that the young don't see it, but those who are older can appreciate what he's done. Now I'm under no illusions that they weren't expecting a white Texan to be reading their magazine, but I found myself in that catagory. And I know my father would tell me that if you do enough stuff, you're bound to do something right every now and again on accident, and that a couple of good acts don't erase a lifetime of liberalism, but I used to despise the man. That is, until he started bringing our captured soldiers back from all over the world. I really respect that.

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Bill gave me his SGI Octane. I'm pretty excited, though I have NO IDEA what I'm going to do with it yet. In fact, I shudder to think of doing something with it before I get my SPARC box back up. Had a nice chat with unixwolf who also found my Sun rack. It was a good chat. Have a great weekend everyone!