SmokeDroid, The Home-Made Smoker o' Death

 





Can't wait to use it.

The Specifications:
It's a 31-gallon steel garbage can with 1/4" x 4" machine screws threaded into it (reinforced with large fender washers inside and out) 16" from the bottom of the can. An 18 1/2" Webber grate rests on these screws. I poked a hole just below the grate level and inserted a foot-long deep-fryer thermometer. The heat comes from an electric hot plate. I will probably use an iron skillet full of hickory chips, and a pie tin suspended above that to deflect any drippings off of the heat. Fine-tuning may be required, but I'm generally optimistic about the design.

Memorial Day Weekend in Davidson

(Listening to "Waltz of the Mushrooms" by Buddy Rich and His Orchestra, and sipping Jolly Pumpkin La Roja Artisan Amber Ale)

Lindz and I spent Memorial Day Weekend on the shore of Lake Norman with her parents, her grandmother and a friend. The hideous drudgery of work faded quickly:



We did very little outside of eating and drinking. One thing we did do was enjoy an opportunity to play around a bit. Here I am performing a touch-and-go in the Boeing 757 simulator (the hand on the throttles is Lindz's dad; he has umpteen thousand hours logged in this aircraft type):



("Nowhere Fast" by Incubus)

Lindz's gracious mother did most of the cooking, but I got a chance to hog the kitchen on Sunday. I made bacon-wrapped water chestnuts in a mustard barbecue sauce. I had fun with the sauce; such diverse items as a can of Coke, some ginger, cinnamon, a banana and some coffee went in there. Lindz's dad and I cooperatively grilled the pineapple and ribeye steaks. There is a large, gregarious social circle in the condo development there, and communal cookouts occur regularly. People enjoyed the water chestnuts, which I offered to everyone until they were gone. I gave credit to my mother, who was the source of the idea for me. She never fiddled around with the sauce so much, though.

("Year of the Knife" by Tears for Fears)

We all did plenty of nothing, but today (Memorial Day proper, that is), we drove up to the Lexington area and toured the Childress winery. The land is occupied by an impressively beautiful, new, Italian villa-styled facility. The grounds were meticulously maintained, and the pastoral views were impressive to anyone but the blind or the terminally pessimistic. This place was stunning. The vines are so young that they are not yet being harvested (the winery vinifies grapes from other parts of the state, mostly from the Yadkin Valley). NASCAR money made it all possible, or that is my understanding. The newness and slickness of the grounds lowered my expectations ("Frass Canyon," a fictional winery in Sideways, comes to mind). We had a pleasant tour, and the facilities are impressive. We saw stainless steel fermentation tanks, French oak cooperage, a temperature-and-humidity-controlled cellar (with chandeliers and tables, available for your subterranean gatherings) and state-of-the-art bottling equipment.

("Love in Vain" by Robert Johnson)

We decided to have some lunch before tasting. All the slick landscaping and architecture led me to expect overpriced, undersized and pretentious food. Wrong. I had a very tasty panini, but dig this - I had life-changing potato salad. Everyone at the table was talking about it, but I'm writing about my reaction to it. It was a salad of roasted potatoes, scratch-made mayonnaise, herbs, red onion and capers. It was a revelation. It just so happens that the chef was the person serving us (the place was busy), and she was very pleased to discuss the ins and outs of her potato salad with us. Some of her shockingly red hair was escaping from her chef's cap, and she was utterly devoid of pretense or arrogance. She just likes to cook, and she cooks for a living. I sat, eating her potato salad, enjoying the view, quivering with envy. I didn't let it spoil my time; I just enjoyed the experience.

The wine sucked. Well, no, it didn't exactly suck; it was quite drinkable. It's just the first winery I've ever been to where I was unable to distinguish the Merlot from the Cabernet Sauvignon from the Cabernet Franc. The three were utterly interchangeable. Quite a feat, I suppose. No other winery of which I am aware has done it.

That damned potato salad was so good, I'm getting misty right now.

("Limehouse Blues" by the Gene Krupa Trio)

Closure

Yes, after the two peanut-encrusted turds which we call Episodes I and II, Lucas finally made something that resembles a Star Wars film again. Revenge of the Sith has its cinematic shortcomings, most notably corny dialogue, wooden acting and excessive reliance on special effects, but it's a real movie.

Emotional attachment to the characters is what does it. That's what does it in any movie. You can't get attached to a too-perfect, two-dimensional character. You've got to have some nice, deep flaws. A respectable dose of tragedy, strife and loss are necessary, and they are nicely spiced up with dismemberment and space battles in this case.

Now that we have some closure, I wish Lucas would go back and edit the trite, cutesy garbage out of the last two episodes.

The animated series Clone Wars is good stuff, though. I recommend it.

A Meal and some Tasting Notes

I had a pleasant Saturday.
After we walked around the lake, I enjoyed a breakfast of coffee, grits, toasted home made bread and eggs with the wife. We went our separate ways after that - she hung out with a friend, and I perused some stores. I ended up buying a tall, narrow cabinet at Crate & Barrel for our stemware. I put it together while sipping a beer.
Lindz and I installed a new medicine cabinet in the master bath. I went out and perused the bookstore, and I purchased Clone Wars, a very entertaining animated series (I saw my nephews watching it, and I admit to my shameless covetousness).
Finally, thoughts of dinner crept into my head. Lindz was content to stay home, so I went to Whole Foods. What a wonderful place. That store makes me feel good. Here's what we had:
-Farm-Raised Atlantic Salmon Steaks, Broiled in an Iron Skillet with Salt and Pepper
-Risotto of Arborio rice (courtesy of my sister's pantry) and Crimini and Oyster Mushrooms
-Organic Baby Red Carrots and Baby Round Carrots, Briefly Sautéed with Butter, Fresh Thyme, Salt and Pepper

baby red carrots and baby round carrots 


baby red carrots and Ringil 

- 
I particularly enjoyed the carrots. I didn't want to cover them up; my preparation tasted of very high-quality carrots, and nothing else. I was pleased. By the way, Lindz took the photos.

Lindz and I sipped Boxing Roo Shiraz the whole time.
For dessert, we nibbled on a bar of Dagoba Xocolatl 74%. The label reads: forest grown organic dark chocolate infused with chilis, cacao nibs, maca, vanilla & nutmeg. Here are my tasting notes, dedicated to my sister (for me, she single-handedly raised chocolate from "very enjoyable substance" to "subject worth avidly studying."):

Smells clean. The chili is evident. Crisp bite, quite pleasingly bitter. The heat comes out in the finish. Absolutely fine texture. Unadulterated chocolate flavor in the palate, and then a long, spicy, buttery finish rolls in.

Lindz loved it. It was a fine chocolate experience; it grabbed my attention. We sipped cordials (Chambord for her, Cointeau for me). Very nice.

Home-made Copper Pot Rack o' Death

 

I balked at the price of the fancy-schmancy pot racks I had found, and none of them were quite right for my limited space options. Therefore, I cobbled together a home-made item out of hooks, nuts, shelf brackets, threaded rod and copper pipe (the former giving structural integrity to the latter), a 2x4 and some copper flashing.

Zingerman's

 
This is a tiny smidgen of the balsamic vinegar section of Zingerman's Deli in Ann Arbor, Michigan. It is a palace of earthly delights - cheese, oils, meats, sandwiches, all sorts of good stuff. Kathy, Tim, Lindz and I had a pleasant time walking around the town, and we stepped into Zingerman's just so Lindz could see it. It as packed ("like a clown car" was my sister's apt analogy), but it's impressive.

A Quantum Leap in Potato Technology

 

Work sucks, and I've bitched about the dehumanizing corporate bullshit before. Food brings me cheer. I had buckets of fun cooking for my sister and my brother-in-law a couple of weeks ago when they visited here. Lindz and I, in turn, enjoyed continual feasting while we were up in Michigan (we enjoyed the hospitality of both my sister's and my brother's households, much to the distress of my waistband). Food is central to our merrymaking.

Fast-forward to today:

The object in the picture is the only potato left by the time I grabbed the camera. I'm pretty pleased with the meal we put together here. Here's a brief synopsis of the day:

Breakfast: I made coffee, fluffy biscuits and scrambled eggs for Lindz, her parents and myself. I made the biscuits on the cast iron pizza pan which was given to us by my sister as a housewarming gift. Afterwards, the four of us went to Home Depot. In addition to PVC cement for fixing a bathroom leak (my father-in-law has often lent his practical knowledge as well as some moral support to my grappling with home ownership) we got some herbs and pots - big, healthy sage and thyme plants.

Lunch: While the girls were out and about together, I made Hub and myself a couple of tuna melts. I used my 6:1 Bread flour/Rye flour sandwich bread and a tuna salad made of albacore tuna, minced onion, minced pickled okra, dill and Texas Pete hotsauce. The cheese was American. We ate in the sunshine on the deck, and I washed it down with a Redhook ESB. Hub glued the offending pipe back into submission while I cleaned up.

The afternoon: The in-laws had to head home at about 2 pm, and Lindz and I spent some time outside. She planted some flowers, and I potted the herbs. I went to the grocery store and got some sundries, which included some liquor from the ABC store. When I got home, I made gin & tonics for us. A truly fine cocktail on a sunny day, I tell you. At this point, I began making ice cream. My old Starbucks colleague Fridge had sent me some Tahitian vanilla beans from his honeymoon. Lindz's brother gave us an ice cream maker for our wedding. We executed the vanilla ice cream recipe from The Best Recipe, which is a full-bore frozen custard. The smell is divine. It's hardening in the freezer now.

Dinner: I made a sauce of peach preserves, aromatics and mustard (yellow mustard as well as some Dean & Deluca mustard seeds I ground in the mortar and pestle). Honey, brown sugar, vinegar and cayenne also found their way into this. It ended up being a thick, flavorful goo. This sauce went on top of grilled, boneless pork chops. Lindz made a salad of romaine lettuce, grapes, feta and balsamic vinaigrette. I heated up the iron pizza pan and halved a bunch of golf-ball sized red potatoes. With a bit of oil and salt, I put them, cut side down, on the hot iron (Schifferdecker style, as it is known in my family. I roasted them in a 400-degree oven for just over 30 minutes. I took them out of the oven and tossed them with a bit of oil, paprika, salt and pepper, and chopped snippings from my rosemary, sage and thyme plants. They are, I think, the best potatoes I've ever cooked.

I've cooked a lot of potatoes. These tasted more like potatoes than any of them. Earthy, yielding yet firm, herbal. Perhaps I have attained a new level of palate Zen when I'm fascinated by potatoes that taste like potatoes. I don't know what else to say. That damned cast iron pizza pan is the shit.

This is the land where I come from.