Carnage du Jour - 20 March 2013

Jerk!
Oh, please don't leave, I was talking about the spice mixture, not you! You know that lovely Jamaican stuff with some heat in it, right?

Anyway, we had a beautiful piece of salmon just begging for the Caribbean treatment, so who was I to deny it?
I took a few tablespoons of jerk seasoning, made a paste with a tablespoon or so of canola oil, and rubbed it all over the salmon, letting it sit a bit to get the flavour really packed in there.
A quick sear on that spiced side first, then a flip to skin-side down and the pan hit the preheated oven.

Ah, but what to have with it? Why, coconut rice, of course.
I had a bottle of coconut extract in the pantry, and a jar of a great rice mixture, so that was what we did. The Royal Blend rice mixture (white, brown, red, and wild rices) is a quick-cooking product, so into the 2C of water I added a heaping 1/4 t of coconut extract and about a T of butter along with 1C of rice. Once it hit the boil, it simmered - loosely covered - until done. That's about 5 minutes at a guess.
I did add an extra 1/4 t of coconut extract and a scant 1/4 t of vanilla to the rice as it finished - there just wasn't quite enough of the coconut scent for my liking.
I added a pile of blanched peas and some diced cocktail onions to the rice as it finished as well. After all, one can't simply have protein and starch, right?

At any rate, the rice was delicious (it wanted a bit of acid, so a squeeze of lime juice is highly recommended), and the salmon was excellent as well.

It was like eating in Kingston, mon! (OK, I don't really know if it was like Kingston, Jamaica. The only Kingston I recall visiting is in Ontario. It's a very nice place, but I doubt that coconut rice and jerk salmon are high on the list of the local cuisine.)

Enjoy! (we did)

Carnage du Jour - 10 March 2013

What could be better on a sunny Sunday morning that a big pot of chili? OK, maybe you shouldn't answer that.

At any rate, that's what was being served after church - a cadre of crock pots lined up in the great hall for the fellowship hour sent great gusts of savoury scents congregation-ward.

So, what was in my pot?
As usual, I had a blend of beef and lamb, a variety of beans (sorry, Texas, that's the way I roll), sautéed onions and celery, a couple cans of spiced tomatoes, a can of green chiles, a bottle of Guinness, and a variety of spices to be named later.

Here is a brief synopsis of the preparation:

• 1# of stewing beef was diced and browned - ah, but before hitting the oil, the meat was coated in a mixture of cornmeal and cocoa powder, and it smelled wonderful as it cooked.
• 1# of ground lamb was browned in the now-flavoured oil, along with the diced onions and celery.
• Into the mix went a can of diced tomatoes with chipotle, and another can with green chiles, one can each of black beans, kidney beans, and black-eyed peas, and a can of green chiles. Oh, and a bottle of Guinness stout.
• Somewhere around a teaspoon of chipotle powder went in, along with a couple tablespoons of freshly roasted garlic, and another teaspoon of some home-grown chile powder (cayennes and other peppers, dried and powdered in our very own blender!).
• The final touches were some a bit of cider vinegar (it was too dark a flavour, it wanted a bit of brightening), a bit of Cholula hot sauce, just because it's delicious, and some cinnamon (probably only half a teaspoon, but I wasn't really measuring).

The whole thing worked for well over 12 hours from stove to crock pot, and the result was delicious. I'm sorry there wasn't more left for home use.

RIP - Stompin Tom Connors

Yes, the singer of that good old hockey game song and the one about tomatoes from Leamington has passed on to the great stage in the sky.

Stompin Tom was one of a kind; he will be missed, but now he's really been everywhere, man.

Carnage du Jour - 04 March 2013

Pork Tenderloin. That's almost enough to make one hungry, isn't it?

Well, even better than just the words was the actual meal.
The tenderloin was seasoned with Beau Monde, White Pepper, and Nutmeg, then seared in a hot roasting pan with a bit of canola oil.
Out came the meat to wait a bit while a head of shredded purple cabbage was sauteed a bit in that now-flavorful oil, then popped into a 375F oven for 15 or 20 minutes.

The cabbage got a good stir, along with the addition of 1/2 C or so of chicken stock, and the meat was placed on top to roast again for another 15 or 20 minutes. (It may have actually taken a bit longer than that, but not a lot, really.)

Once the pork was done, it was time to serve up with a side of some reheated quinoa, chickpeas, and green peas.

A classic combination, made just that much easier by the roasting of the cabbage, rather than having to stand at the stove, stirring it all the time.

Oh, and it was delicious.

For Grandpa

I wrote this poem on the death of my grandpa, Adiel J. van Becelaere (yep, he had a lower case V until some point in school when the nuns made him capitalize it).
I included it in my novel, A Rune With A View, as a poem written by the protagonist, but it was recently used in a memorial service by some of my friends, so I thought I would share it a bit more widely.

For Grandpa

Suddenly we are without you:
Without your life and laughter.
And yet; we are not less,
The world is not less:
Where, then, is the loss?

Deep within us all,
At the core of each of us,
In the hearts of those you love, and who love you,
There is still your laughter, your life, your light:
Where, then, is the loss?

We weep for ourselves,
For our family and friends who feel a loss;
At times we think we weep for you.
But you are with God, with Christ:
Where, then, is the loss?

What is lost has yet to come:
The beauty and the wonder we'll long to share with you,
The children who'll not hear your laugh, not see your light.
But through our lives, our love, and laughter, they'll know yours:
Where, then, is the loss?

We weep at our pain,
At our bewilderment at your death.
And yet with you, for you, we must rejoice!
You have left pain behind, and fear and longing as well.
Where, then, is the loss?

What is lost is the easy affection we thought would never leave.
What is lost is your smiling face each evening, each morning.
What is lost is myriad things we wouldn't believe could go.
But realizing this much, we realize more:
There is no loss - there is only Love.

Ear Worms

I'm not sure why, but the other day I pulled out my CD from the early '80s musical, Pump Boys and Dinettes.

We had seen the touring company (including Tom Chapin!) in Detroit way back then, and really enjoyed the show. Frankly, the original cast recording was a bit of a disappointment, but I think most recordings are, when compared to the live experience.

Anyway, there are some memorable songs, and some not-so-memorable ones in the show, but there are two that are stuck in my head right now; real ear worm material.

The Night Dolly Part Was Almost Mine is a really fun tune, as is Farmer Tan.
OK, really fun tune is the positive part - ear worm is the negative.
I've got to find something else to displace them, now, as they're taking turns running through my head.

Help!

Little-known New Orleans Flemish Mardi Gras Traditions

The following is purported to have been translated and excerpted without permission from Flemish Life in the New World, by Anke Vandermeersch  published in Ghent, 1893

Mik van de Koningen

The large Flemish community in New Orleans has a centuries-long tradition at Vette Dinsdag (or Mardi Gras) of which far too few “outsiders” are aware. This tradition, parts of which were copied by the French Acadian refugees (also called Cajuns) when they arrived here in the deep South, is that of the festive Mik van de Koningen, now called in French the Miche des Rois (sometimes altered to Galette des Rois – the King Cake).

At the end of Epiphany, each Flemish household would endeavour to rid itself of all the soon-to-be-outlawed items, such as fat and flesh. Unlike their French neighbours, the Flemish – reputedly a somewhat “thrifty” or “frugal” race – were seldom overstocked in the fat area, but rather in that of meat: hence the Mik van de Koningen, the Loaf of the Kings.

The loaf traditionally consists of a mixture of ground beef, oatmeal, crushed tomatoes, and eggs. Typical additions would include diced onions or other aromatics, salt, pepper, possibly nutmeg, and a sauce known to Latin America as salsa inglesa - the venerable Worcestershire Sauce.

No Flemish Vette Dinsdag celebration is complete without the round loaf, festively decorated in the three colours of the kings – Purple for justice, Gold for power, and Green for faith. Adding even more to the anticipation is the hope each celebrant harbours of finding the tiny, hidden representation of the Christ Child in his or her piece of the loaf. Tradition dictates that the finder of the child, if of suitable and legal age, must host the party the next year, and provide the loaf or the beer – a sometimes difficult choice to make in that zymurgic culture!