Too Much Thyme On My Hams: June 2012

Sunday, June 17, 2012

June 17th ~ Heaven's Rich Pageant

There is always a bit of trivia I remember about Father's Day falling on June 17^th. Although, I don't know if it is still true to this day, when we lived there, it was the last time it snowed on Father's Day in North Dakota. I try to remember everything about Father's Days past as I no longer have my Dad here to celebrate. I try to remember everything about him.

If you have lost your Dad, I don't know if this is true for you. But, I miss my Dad more today then I did when he first left. The hole just keeps growing. It is an ocean of loss. You don't really understand what you have lost at the time of the loss. Your loss is all past; you won't celebrate birthdays or Father's Days anymore. You don't imagine that you won't have that warm hand with the weathered skin to hold when you are drowning in the struggles of life as an adult. You don't know then that as you chase your dreams and stumble through the life surrounding you, you will want to ask Dad; hey how did you open that sandwich shop those years ago; and how did you pack up the family and journey from the big city of New York to the vast prairie of North Dakota? Where did your courage come from; your strength? How did you endure so much pain and sickness and still remain the most graceful person in the room? What is the song they used in the REM video you appeared in? How did you make such perfect fried eggs? I adored my father when he was living, but wasn't always listening; in the loss of him I listen to every breeze and every heartbeat for the sound of his voice.

I think about the richness of heaven and how it is ultimately the dream trip I hope to take one day. Forget Ireland or Australia; heaven seems to be where all the lovely people are. Since Dad lives there I image it has Holsteins and Appaloosas; chili and Schlitz; the open road and family gatherings; laughter about grease on door knobs; a jukebox with Anne Murray and Statler Brother's songs; lakes for fishing; oceans for swimming; prayer and forgiveness;

My Dad was a man of tradition. So, for tradition's sake, I made him breakfast. Bacon & Eggs with pumpernickel toast; careful to keep the yolks runny.

Then I sat on the porch with him and my coffee, listening; resigned to the fact that I will have puffy eyes tomorrow. And that, I suppose, is how you know just how rich you really are.

I hope this is a happy day for Father's everywhere.

Sunday, June 10, 2012

June 10th, Comfort in the Rain

It is a rainy day in Georgia, and a Sunday to boot. Otherwise known as, a homebodies perfect day. There is nothing more to want then comfort food and a nice wine. It is a day to pull out the old records or watch travel and cooking shows on PBS or to read something other then my How to Open & Operate a Financially Successful Personal Chef Business book; something like Far From the Land or Rewards and Fairies or People Magazine.

There isa flurry of activities that are going on everywhere; my niece is celebrating her 14^th birthday; another is studying for the MCATs; one cousin is graduating from high school, another is holding his twins at their Baptism; the French Open will resume tomorrow and I'll Have Another is headed to greener pasture. But it is quite here. Louie is at my feet, earnestly trying to scratch that itch; the rain hits the tin like a playful love affair and Il Volo is serenading the little gray house via UNC TV.

Now, I will make that comfort food and drink a nice wine. Please, pull up a chair. It is a Mid-westerner's version of a Southern Vegy Plate menu, with a little Pinot Noir. Here is where we hope to end up:

The beans will take the longest to cook. I love dried Northern Beans, because they don't sell dried Midwesterner Beans. Rinse them well:

I do a quick boil on the beans to cut down on cooking time.

Cover beans with water and bring to a boil. At full boil, allow 2 minutes, then turn off, remove from burner, and let sit for 1 hour.

Once the hour is up, I add olive oil, fresh sage, garlic, and salt and pepper to the beans,

Then add enough water to cover the beans by at least 2 inches.

Now for the turnip greens, rinse the heck out of those!

Then, I put a little olive oil, bacon fat, garlic and salt and pepper in the bottom of a pot,

... break apart your rinsed greens and toss them in this mixture. I don't add any water or any more moisture because I don't dry the greens after rinsing them.

I will salt and pepper throughout the cooking, and also add a few red pepper flakes for kicks; or a little kick.

You will want some cornbread with this dish...I am pretty darn sure! A few sliced tomatoes makes everything Southern. But I like the sage and garlic in the beans as a Northern Italy twist on the beans and the variation on the greens ain't bad either.

I hope this brings you comfort on your rainy days.

Sunday, June 3, 2012

June 3rd, Tequila!

If you are a follower, then you know I am scared of birds. Petrified, frozen in my tracks scared. The other day I had the ultimate drama at my house. I was filling Louie"s water bowl (if you are a first time reader, Louie is the canine version of the love of my life) from a large mug; and I had extra water. So, without thinking I tossed the water in the direction of a front porch plant. Before I could possibly take the toss back, I had hit a small bird with the water; knocking it out of the plant and onto the yard. All Louie saw was a flying object; so he thought someone was playing a game with him and of course pounced on the bird. It was a traumatic few moments that I do not have the tools to manage. It didn't take Louie long to realize that the bird was not a tennis ball; but the damage had been done to an all important wing. The bird was still, Louie was still and I was yelling things like, 'oh, for the love of God fly little bird, fly'; 'please don't haunt me'; 'shoo, fly, please don't peck me to death';'Louie look at what you have done; are you kidding me?' and on and on...Flashbacks to the cock fighting rooster pecking away at my three year-old Auburn hairline emerge.

These types of experiences only add to the trauma of cooking fowl. I remember an episode of Chopped on Food Network where Black Chicken was a secret ingredient in the basket; I have never changed a channel so quickly in my life. Or the time whole, feather ducks were featured on Iron Chef...I could throw up right now.

But it is my quest to be Bob's Small Town Grill when I grow up so I soldier on in my perfection of fowl recipes. Today I am attempting to replicate the Tequila Lime Chicken Sandwich with Guacamole and Bacon that I learned from one of my favorite cooking blogs; Closet Cooking. Yeah, not what you are thinking...this blog is about cooking in a kitchen the size of a closet. Which I can relate too; well, my space is large, but I have one burner I can count on and the oven is always hit or miss so I can relate. But Kevin of Closet Cooking and I are great illusionists, I believe. No one really knows what goes on in my life or my kitchen; but there tends to be enjoyable things that emerge from both. So here goes; abracadabra!

This sandwich has jalapeno mayo, tequila and lime marinated grilled chicken, guacamole and bacon...what is not to love.

Start with marinating the chicken.

Tequila, lime juice and zest, garlic, jalapeno, cilantro, olive oil and salt and pepper run through a food processor... if you can let if soak overnight, all the better.

For the Mayo take a couple jalapenos with garlic, lime juice and cilantro and roast it in the oven for 30 minutes or so;

Then send it all to the food processor as well and blend with about a 1/2 cup of mayo.

Get your bacon cooking...

...and your coals are rocking your chicken cutlets...

Prepare your guacamole and gather up your mayo. I feel like every time I make guacamole i do it differently; yet is always turns out yummy. I think it is just one of those things that you really can't go wrong with. Avocado, lime, garlic, cilantro, salt and pepper.

Now, the chicken is ready so we just need to build our sandwich~ spread the mayo on the bun, lay a lettuce leaf, then your chicken, a nice slice of tomato, your guacamole and then that bacon!!

What do you think? Will I ever be Bob's Small Town Grill Material?

Oh, and the bird, Louie sat with it for hours, occasionally licking its forehead, until it felt comfortable to fly off...That is why Louie is the canine version of the love of my life.