Broad Ripples is home to a number of "hippie owned" businesses. I stopped in this place to buy blue corn meal, as they have a great collection of bulk grains for the healthy or the "preppy". But when it comes time to meet some of my favorite people for an impromptu dinner afterwards with my weekend house guests,everyone voted to pass on the tofurkey pizza.
First it was off to Penzey's where a few spices were picked up for friends, then off to Artesano's for some alderwood smoked salt and 18 year old Balsamic Vineger.
Future cooking ingredients in hand, it time to head off to Brugge Brasserie for food involving meat.
Conversation was good as always, books, Amazon publishing, more books, the Delta mileage perks of being an internet rock star, shotguns, geese and Old World Style charcuterie, good writers and bad writers . . .
"Brigid - "so why the fuss about this new best seller about farm outbuildings (wink to D ) . . '.Fifty Sheds of Grey".
"Tam - "I've not heard of it"
Miss D - " It's Twilight Fan Fiction with BDSM".
Tam - uncontrollable snickers
We started with the usual "would you like large fries with that", with all their dipping sauces (Dijon with Poplar Syrup was a new favorite), followed by an assortment of roast beasts, steak and eggs (Roberta X's excellent looking choice), Le Canard, more frites and cheese plates with all kinds of sausage/pate things . There was in-house microbrewery IPA, good coffee and lots of catching up as I'd just met Peter briefly once at a previous blog meet and his new bride Miss D. and I hadn't seen each other in a year, though we chatted airplanes all the time.
This was a duck confit sandwich with dried cherry and lambic compote, spicy mustard, and crispy fried leek (somewhere under that mound of hot, pepper coated frites).
Miss D ordered one of the buckets of mussels with blue cheese, bacon and white wine (they were steaming too much to get a good photo). While her husband had one of the cheese plates.
Soon it was time to leave to get to the gun store before they close to get ammo.
Finally, home to make a phone call to my Dad and a friend far away and of course, some play time with Barkley. .
"Yo Mom - you smell like Duck - you and I need to have a little chat. . ."
Night off, a gathering with my favorite female pilot and her spouse, honey wine from the local meadery ("I thought you said MEATERY?" Oh, well, this will still be fun). Then dinner - chicken breasts stuffed with cream cheese and chives topped with a spicy red pepper sauce, fresh parmason and romano and diced smoked bacon , served over whole grain pasta with fresh veggies. No recipe, I just sort of threw this together while catching up with Miss D.
She I discussed the ladies only taildragger fly in and why "all Taylorcrafts are NOT the same in the dark" while Barkley worked his DogFu on Peter, attempting to get another tummy rub or a bite of something that smells like cheese and bacon.
We're meeting up with Tam and Roberta X tomorrow and there will be shooting on Sunday so I won't be back til later, perhaps with a few photos, some shooty quotes, or just a picture of a large bottle of aspirin.
For now, more tales of taildraggers and dog tails (and how do I get a shirt like D's.)
FEUDALISM: You have bacon. The lord comes and takes the bacon. And your last pig. You get a potato.
PURE SOCIALISM: You have some bacon. Your neighbor does not. The government takes your bacon and gives it to the neighbor. You have to take a second job to bring home the bacon so you can continue to supply the non working neighbor with your bacon.
BUREAUCRATIC SOCIALISM: You have some bacon. The government takes half of it to give to the neighbor with none. The bacon is then managed by a Bacon Czar with a large staff. The Bacon Czar is a vegan. With the ensuing paperwork, and the latent inability of the Bacon Czar to actually handle the bacon, the bacon goes bad and is thrown out.
FASCISM: You have a little bit of bacon. The government takes it, and offers to sell you the oink.
PURE COMMUNISM: You have bacon. Your neighbor works to help you get more bacon and you share in it, even though he eats twice as much as you and does half the amount of work.
RUSSIAN COMMUNISM: You have bacon. The government takes it and gives you a potato.
DICTATORSHIP: You have bacon. The government takes it and drafts you. You get MRE's. They do not contain bacon.
PURE DEMOCRACY: You have bacon. You vote with your neighbors as to how your bacon should be protected.
REPRESENTATIVE DEMOCRACY: You have some bacon. You elect someone to vote on how best to ensure you get more bacon.
LIBERAL SOCIETY: You don't like bacon so I don't get any.
BUREAUCRACY: You have bacon. The government makes a new food pyramid that tell you when you should eat the bacon and how often. It then pays you not to eat the bacon and takes it and throws it away, after you have filled out a form to pay your bacon tax for the bacon that you no longer have.
CALIFORNIA BUREAUCRACY: In California, bacon contains nitrates and fats that may be bad for people who have no willpower. So no one gets bacon.
PROGRESSIVISM: You have bacon. The government takes it and gives you a receipt.
ANARCHY: You have bacon. You try and sell the bacon to others so you survive or others with big pointy things simply take the bacon and kill you.
MONARCHY: We have bacon because you love us and want us to have bacon. Smile. Wave.
CAPITALISM: You have bacon. Strengthened by bacon, you work harder and buy a whole damn pig.
MUCH OF THE MIDDLE EAST: Bacon is unclean. Die infidel.
MAOISM - We are Urban Working Class. What is bacon??
I keep a small rental near the city, for work and on call. It's close to where I need to get to work and my neighbor is a a young police officer and his family, who thankfully looks after it when I travel or am off work.
It's got some nice furnishings, as I sold a large four bedroom house to downsize, but like most rentals, it has all the ambience of a dental lab, with white walls and plain window fixtures. The place has two bedrooms and a little office. Unfortunately the bedroom where the occassional family member or friend bunks has a Eastern exposure. The first time I slept there, when I had all beds and couch occupied during a race weekend, including someone with a bad back using my bed with the orthopedic mattress, I got an early morning wake up call.
No wonder my guests were up so early! I thought it was anticipation of my cooking. No, it was the BLINDING sun that came through the cheap blinds. A Rooster on crack couldn't have woken them up any faster.
Time to buy drapes. And this is where my story starts. There's a super Target within an hour. It's fairly new, fancy, with clean wide aisles, all kinds of kitchen stuff, food and housewares and patrons that didn't look like they were auditioning for the circus or trying to buy ingredients for Mama's Meth Lab. I liked their grocery department, as far as selection (all kinds of bacon and Jason's maple almond butter!) and the household section looked impressive with a quick, shallow glance.
So have some folks that we as a nation, elected.
I wasn't fussy, any neutral color would do, I just wanted two sets of drapes, long enough to cover the windows, and made of a thermal material to keep out light and noise. I also needed towels to replace a few old ones that went from "shabby chic" to "did Barkley EAT this?" (Yes, that's my sock with his toy)
It did not go well. Target had LOTS of drapes on display Apparently, whomever does inventory figures six drapes per color. That would be three windows. The fact that three of those were one length (64 inch) and the other three were another length (83 inch) didn't factor in. Doing the math, that each window requires TWO drapes, was too much for the stock person here. No matter what color or style, I could NOT find two complete drapes the same color and the same length in the entire store. I'd have asked if they had any in the back had there been a clerk. Oh, wait! Maybe they were manning the 26 checkstands? No those are all empty but for the two with long lines.
On to towels. I hated to wait in line, but I did NOT want to go home with neither drapes nor towels. They had a whole wall of towels, plush, lush towels, their own brand! Oh, they were SO soft. so fluffy. Not WalMart cheap, but reasonable. I wanted to get good towels. I showered at a bachelor buddy's house after working on cars one day and found myself completely covered in blue lint after using the towel on the rack.I looked like Smurfette. No, I wanted to get some better quality towels, which is why I went to Target, not WalMart.
After purchasing the towels, I washed them and dried them in the dryer before I used them. After my shower, I ended up covered in blue lint. "Why does this look familiar? There was lint all over the tub rim and on the floor. I washed them twice before using again. Each time I cleaned the lint trap, there was enough lint in there that, had I added starch, I could have had a whole new towel.
I looked at the rapidly "less fluffy" towel to see the tag - "Made in China".
I called car buddy and said "it's like your Smurf towel!" He said "did you get yours at Target??"
Oh. . . I'm a trained forensic expert. I detect a trend here.
It's been a month, a half dozen washings and the towels are still shedding and getting thinner and rougher each time I wash them. There's still tiny spots of lint all over my tub and bathroom floor.
I think after one or two more washings, I can cut these towels into little squares and sell their thin, abrasive surface on eBay as the "DIY Glock .25 cent trigger job." I could make a fortune.
Lesson folks. If you can, buy American, you might pay a bit more but there is a reason. Quality.
With that, I'll leave you to a link to a nice little blog managed by some folks I hang out with, who appreciate quality, and are happy to pass on information(without compensation) for companies that still earn your dollar with good products, all made in America.. They don't post often, but there are some good buying hints there. Say hi to my friends Midwst Chick and Company over at Made in America.
I'll be in the bathroom mopping up lint.
But at least this weekend's guests will be able to sleep in until the bacon starts frying.
About every 6 weeks, I send a care package or two over to Iraq or Afghanistan. This was one mailed today. Most go to soldiers serving, a couple extras going to former soldiers, long since retired, who now assist there as contractors.
The packages are simple, some new and good condition used books and movie CD's, snacks and a few things to bring a smile (zombie magnets and bacon popcorn!) If I can, I drop a note or a card in of thanks.
If any of you have a family member serving there that would like to get one, drop me their address in comments prefaced by a big "DO NOT POST", so if I'm half asleep I know to just cut and paste the address, then delete. All I ask is they don't share the mailing address from which it comes. Simply enjoy, share if they can and know that there are many, many families here, very proud of what you do, and the country to whom you pledge allegiance.
There are so many good men and women working hard in harm's way, if a little bag of jerky and a zombie kitchen magnet makes them smile until they get home to their family, I'm all for it.
First shot to the center of the forehead, then after that, quick fire, multiple magazine reloads
blamblamblamblamblamblamblamblamblamblamblamblam
He wasn't that easy to see with the light, but I do believe he's not going anywhere.
Now for his (much too skinny) zombie girlfriend (and her little dog too!)
Watch out for Flying Brass!
My arms and hand are tired and the range has gone cold. What to do? But I have two magazines left. I've only gone pistol shooting 3 times since the Christmas knee surgery, there is much rust to work off. It's an easy decision.
Tweet!!!!! The Range is now HOT.
Thanks all, it was a great morning and a privilege to get to share your range.
Now that the sun is fully up and the zombies have been dealt with, it's time for my favorite postie Zombie Apocalypse beverage - a giant cup of "brain freeze" (aka the "Mr. Squishy")
Mornings don't get much better. Well, unless one of your local range buddies buys the first round.
If life is a battle, then my inner scars are medals for valor, for swiftness, for courage, for passion. Evil is the dark-haired brother of Good; they walk hand in hand–always .Calanthe - Wraeththu
Honor, Chivalry, words that seem old fashioned to todays generation, but words that previous generations literally died for.
What is Chivalry? A knight was expected to have not only the strength and skills to face combat in the violent Middle Ages but was also expected to temper this aggressive side of a fighter with a chivalrous side to his nature. There was not an authentic Knights Code of Chivalry as a prescribed document - it was a moral system which went beyond rules of combat and introduced the concept of Chivalrous conduct - qualities such as bravery, courtesy, honor, and gallantry toward women. Documented in 'The Song of Roland' in the Middle Ages Knights period of William the Conqueror who ruled England from 1066, it consisted of these tenents -
To fear God and maintain His Church
To serve the liege lord in valour and faith
To protect the weak and defenceless
To give succour to widows and orphans
To refrain from the wanton giving of offence
To live by honour and for glory
To despise pecuniary reward
To fight for the welfare of all
To obey those placed in authority
To guard the honour of fellow knights
To eschew unfairness, meanness and deceit
To keep faith
At all times to speak the truth
To persevere to the end in any enterprise begun
To respect the honour of women
Never to refuse a challenge from an equal
Never to turn the back upon a foe
The "code" is written in slightly different form in different pieces of literature, but it all has these things in common - courage, loyalty, respect, honor, finishing everything you start and never refusing a necessary battle regardless of the odds.
Widows and orphans were cared for. In days of old, the helpless were looked after, but you worked or you did not eat. There were three orders in society: oratores (those who pray), bellatores (those who fight), and laborares (those who work). Those that prayed, lived beyond simply, not riding around in limos in $1500 suits while telling their followers on national TV to "send more money". The welfare class, that's rapidly becoming a huge chunk of our "modern" society, didn't exist. If you were physically capable, you pulled your weight. Or you died. The knight did not fight for the lazy, but for those who by station, age, or gender were not able to fight for themselves. There was faith in a higher power, but not so heavenly driven, that a man was useless on earth.
A sword was a tool, to defend and protect. Lesser weapons were considered dishonorable. The dagger was considered a weapon of a sneaky assassin and an arbalest (fired from a distance) was a brutal weapon used by the untrained. A knight's code of chivalry demanded that he face his enemy openly, honestly and with skill - it was a "let the best man win" situation. Battle was more than the desire to pursue and kill, but endurance, the conviction and longing to endure beyond all imaginable limits of the flesh to protect and preserve.
There was a difference between aggression and self defense, a difference between being devoted to justice and being a school yard bully. It is a self-awareness and self-restraint and differs as night and day from apathy, the concept of which Christians might refer to as meekness, a trait often associated with Christ, and clearly as misunderstood.
There was the ability to think before one speaks, to consider the gravity of words and actions; and even to know when inaction or silence is the best avenue. Such things, many, including myself, have failed at. Such things we can still strive for. There was bravely standing up for friends, not just ourselves.
The dictates of chivalry are not some formal guide to etiquette. I hope I die before I see a "Chivalry for Dummies" book. It's not a checklist, it's an understanding of things for which a man needs no checklist. It's not bowing before your nation's enemy, it's never turning your backs on them. It's not holding the door open for a women because she's weak and lesser than you, but as a sign of courtesy. It's a way of thinking, not an era or a specific rule.
I've written on this blog more than once about the wimpification of the modern male. But being a strong man does not mean you are completely closed off to emotion, treating love like something that's common and a woman as a somewhat lesser accessory. The strongest man I know can convey in one look, one touch, what I mean to him. But one can understand where the mixed signals come from. The view from the media is one of abject consumerism, relationships that manipulate, duty as control and the worst "if there's a man involved, it's his fault". Our nation has more material comforts than the knights could ever imagine, but for many people, it's prosperity without purpose, it's passion without principles.
People espouse the Middle Ages as being little more than Pestilence, Black Death and no YouTube with the concepts of that day being outdated, or worse, by their own basis, misogynistic. What do we have now to replace it? Materialism without ethics or effort, and baby daddy's, greedy trophy wives, teen moms, and uncouth, plastic infused bimbos who get their own reality TV shows without any bit of skill or talent. This is our alternative to "the Dark Ages", a generation of people who fail to understand the difference between "can" and "should"?
Epictetus said it best "for it is better to die of hunger, exempt from fear and guilt, than to live in affluence with perturbation."
But the spirit of chivalry has not been entirely eradicated from the human heart, even in our pacifist, feminist, age. A chivalrous man today is a warrior with something to live for - and is willing to sacrifice his life either to protect or further it. Being a warrior does not not necessarily make him a man of war, but a man prepared to do battle for that which he loves. The battle can be one of ideology, not weapons, his life simply marked by preparation for something worthwhile, and thus is lived pursuing those ideals and interests which for him hold true value.
If this man is willing to die for something he loves, it is because he loves deeply and with great passion. Romantic love may well make the short list, but it's not the sole occupant of his soul, there are other causes and objects of a man's passion, that make him truly rounded.
Chivalry is not dead, it is simply dormant in many, for all things that are excellence can be as difficult as they are rare. In my writing I've referred to the knight as he, for it was a manly profession. Yet the ideas that define chivalry know no gender; it's a way of thinking expressed in form by both men and women who hold true these concepts of defense and accountability. Some will call me hopefully old fashioned. Feminist and those more liberal minded will decry it as a way of life that is simply bloodshed, war and women seen as a possession. It's not. A chivalrous man, has no desire to control and direct a woman's thoughts, but to allow her to live without constraint, loved unconditionally, free from pesky dragons and telemarketers. He will not only arm himself with the tools he as to protect her, he will smile when she takes up her own. He will fight for her. He will fight with her.
Chivalry is NOT dead. Look at our military personnel, look at those people who responded after the terror attacks. Firemen, EMT's, the police. Nurses, doctors. A post-September 11 nation's no place for milquetoasts. We are living in a fallen world with entire societies that wish us harm, religions of "peace" that dictate to embrace them or die. This is not a time to sit home watching reality television, when the dragons aren't just bigger, they're almost nuclear ready.
It's a time for heroes. Big Damn Heroes.
In the Battle of Maldon, a few Englishmen have been attacked by a fierce army of Viking invaders. Although the Vikings are between two branches of the river and thus separated from launching their full strength at the Anglo-Saxon army, Beortnoth nobly allows them free passage to do battle on equal terms. Vastly outnumbered, Beortnoth and his brave men are slain until only a small, unflinching band of warriors remain:
“Byorthwold spoke; he grasped his shield; he was an old companion; he shook his ash spear; full boldly he exhorted the warriors: 'Thought shall be the harder, heart the keener, courage the greater, as our might lessens. Here lies our leader all hewn down, the valiant man in the dust; may he lament for ever who thinks now to turn from this war-play. I am old in age; I will not hence, but I purpose to lie by the side of my lord. . ."
In these few words, a better description of heroism, of unwavering dedication and loyalty I've not read in a while. The lines “Thought shall be the harder, heart the keener, courage the greater, as our might lessens" are a thousand years old, a pre Christian heroic spirit which author J.R. Tolkien, a crafter of worlds where chivalry roared, himself called "Northernness".
Chivalry exists, and heroism stands. Look at the people who serve in hard times, hard areas, death a shadow on the wall, so the masses can be safe. But you don't have to be a member of the military or a protector of the weak to embrace these concepts. Chivalry gives us something to strive for, something to hold up as an ideal and an understanding that throughout history there are those who have risen above the standards of the day to truly be called brave.
The year could be 1066, it could be 2001, it could be today. A hand on a rough shovel, flinging the dirt with an effortless fury, the mound of soil rising of its own volition, not crafted by man but as if flung forth by the earth itself, until the grave is readied. A warrior has fallen, medals scribed on ore or heart, small things insignificant to the view, but mute with profound meaning. The earth waits but a moment. Shadows fall with the moon's curve, no sound but the labored breath of form of one who engaged without arms, this single combat. Laying a warrior to rest. There is now but a shield to be picked up and carried on. So, man or woman, we never forget.
I'm known to invite a few folks back to the house after things I like to do, air shows, tractor shows, car shows, gun shows or just an afternoon out watching my favorite bird dog play.
Although I love to do a fancy four course spread with a bit of gourmet, or a carefully crafted dinner for two, sometimes one needs something that's bulletproof and will feed a crowd very cheaply after a busy day.
This is one of those dishes. With big chunks of peppered pork tenderloin (I had baked a couple earlier in the week) and caramelized Vidalia onion with a sweet smokey undertone, it was a hit.
(And the next picture is for Murphy's Law, taken at an air show a few weeks ago).
If you are seriously short of time, use a couple of the bigger cans of Busch beans (my favorite canned beans) and add the honey, paprika, ancho, red pepper, bourbon, hot sauce, and steak seasoning but the "from scratch" ones can still be on the table in about an hour.
Peppered Tenderloin Pork and Beans
Small pork tenderloin, brushed with a dab of Worcestershire sauce, rubbed with lots of cracked pepper and baked, cooled and chopped into big bite-sized pieces.
1 large sweet onion chopped
2 cloves of garlic chopped
1/4 cup tomato paste
2 cups chicken stock
1/2 cup plus 1 Tablespoon light brown sugar
1/3 cup honey
1/4 cup sherry vinegar
3 tablespoons Dijon mustard
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
1 teaspoon ancho chili powder
2 to 4 pinches crushed red pepper (to taste)
1 tsp. salt
1 teaspoon Penzey's Mitchell Street Steak Seasoning (which has cardamon in it)
a couple of splashes of Knob Creed bourbon
1 teaspoon Scoville Brothers Singing Smoke hot sauce
8 cups (or four 15 ounce cans, drained and rinsed) cooked white beans.
Preheat oven to 350°F Chop up pork tenderloin. Heat a large cast iron pan over medium heat. Add onion and garlic cloves and cook until soft, about 6 minutes. Add tomato paste, chicken broth, brown sugar, honey, sherry vinegar, Dijon mustard, paprika,,ancho, salt, steak seasnong and stir to mix.
Stir in beans, increase heat to high, and bring mixture to a gentle boil. Transfer to oven and bake, uncovered, until beans are tender and mixture is thickened, 40 to 45 minutes Serve on fresh corn bread or biscuits with green salad and you're set.
I finally found a use for those crutches. While the Pendleton wool bedspread is off at the cleaners in prep for an upcoming visit from a gal friend and her husband, it makes a great anti Barkley device to keep him off the soft blanket in the spare bedroom.
Someone is NONE too pleased about it.
Sorry Barkley, it's Saturday. First there's breakfast, which was oven baked German puffed pancaked stuffed with apples and cinnamon.
Then it's off to Marsh to grab air show tickets. I'll see you later! (and I will bring back pats and treats).
