Baba Ganoush and Bread Pudding

Having a nearly inexhaustible supply of eggplants and running tired of Eggplant Parmesan (although I particularly like Eggplant Parmesan) we tried something new; Baba Ganoush. Not bad for a first try, it's a combination of eggplant roasted on the BBQ, pureed with garlic, lemon juice, salt, pepper, parsley and tahini. Some toasted pita chunks for dipping and you have a nice little snack.

Leo is a happy dog tonight, because one of his boys is home. Jacob arrived at 9:35 this morning at the Ontario airport, right on time. Actually early, which was a big improvement over his last flight home, which he missed entirely. Good thing he was on time, because he had a follow-up appointment with Dr. Herford at Loma Linda at 11:00, the only open time during this Thanksgiving week. We made the drive from Ontario to Loma Linda in plenty of time to take a short stop for a bad breakfast at Del Taco.

The visit with the doctor went well, the doctors apparently very happy with Jake's progress. Based on the discussion with Dr. Herford, next up will be extraction of Jake's wisdom teeth. During the extraction they will harvest some bone and perform a bone graft under his front teeth where they will eventually install the post for his dental implant. The tooth that Jake knocked out was directly on top of his mandibular fracture, resulting in very little bone to support the implement. Consequently, the bone graft will be necessary to provide a stable base for the new tooth.

Got back home to Temecula by about 1:00, shortly after which Jacob took about a 5 hour nap. I guess that's to be expected of a college student, forced to be out of bed early and at the airport by 8:00AM or so. Tomorrow won't be much better, because Jake has an 8:30AM appointment with his orthodontist.

Anyway, we are home this evening, with Leo barking away at Jake, pleading with him to wrestle. Now he's given up on Jake temporarily and is blowing his hot breath all over my keyboard, trying to bait me into a bout.

Tonight I continued with the refrigerator purging. One of the side benefits of Thanksgiving is the opportunity to get rid of all the odd crusts and countless slices of bread that have been sitting in the freezer for ever, chop them up into cubes and turn them into stuffing. As it turns out, several of the odd samples of bread were these honey wheat and sesame seed sort of things, too sweet to really lend themselves to the sort of savory dish resulting from insertion in a bird's behind. So, rather than let them go to waste I used them in a southern style bread pudding. Very tasty, but needed a little bourbon sauce. Unfortunately I have no cream, so the bourbon will be relegated to a rocks glass instead.

Must go now and fight with my dog. More later.

November 21

It's Saturday. We're catching up on the chores we avoided last weekend by visiting my Mom in Arizona.

Speaking of said trip, I took a little heat for my post visit post about being frustrated by my wife's driving. For those who took exception, I can only say that if you have never ridden with my wife you need to experience it before passing judgment.

I have two major concerns.

1. Riding in the left lane and consistently forcing people to pass on the right. Mostly this concerns me because I’m sitting on the passenger side and first in line for a drive by shooting.
   
2. The stuff she eats while driving. Salads? Broccoli & cheese stuffed baked potatoes? Eating those is a two-handed operation. How is she steering? “One hand on your burrito and the other on the wheel” is my mantra.
   
   Well, three major concerns.
   
3. I’m old and don’t have much time to live and don’t want to spend any more time than necessary in transit.
   
   OK, four…
   
4. Aging is supposed to slow as one approaches the speed of light. So, the way I drive I’m actually increasing my longevity.

Oh and, I do NOT channel Mario Andretti and Spartacus while driving. It’s Jackie Stewart and Judah Ben-Hur.

Regardless, Denise delivered us safely back to our happy home, which I will confess is the important thing.

So, today we started off in the garden, which we haven't seen much of lately. It's dark so early it's hard to get anything accomplished out there during the week. Here it is late November and we're still pulling things out of the garden like crazy; tomatillos, eggplants, zucchini, bell peppers, jalapenos, cherry and roma tomatoes, anaheim chiles, grapefruit, and even a couple green beans.

After the garden, we started cleaning out the fridge and freezers in anticipation of Thanksgiving. Need someplace to put all the groceries for next Thursday. Cleaning out the fridge is always dangerous, because I find about 500 things I'd forgotten we had in there and immediately start preparing a bizarre assortment of foods. Frozen grapes, green olive tapenade on sourdough, sirloin burgers, pumpkin butter, seared albacore with a wasabe/soy dipping sauce. Found a boat load of frozen lime juice from last years lime crop so I felt obligated to mix up a few Margaritas.

Anyway, this evening we actually have freed up enough room to get our turkey into the fridge.

Thanksgiving should be fairly nice. Both the boys will be home for the holiday and we'll have a few others of my family up for dinner.

Jake is scheduled to arrive at Ontario airport Monday morning, flying down from Sacramento where he is supposed to be spending the weekend with his brother. Hopefully he makes his flight and arrives on time as he has an appointment with his surgeon at Loma Linda also on Monday morning. This will be a follow-up to his earlier surgeries and prep for upcoming surgery to install a dental implant to replace the tooth knocked out in his crash.

Nick has class through Wednesday, so he will not be home until late that evening. The good news for Nick is that my Extra Special Bitter will have completed its required two weeks of bottled fermentation and should be ready to drink. Of course, I have no idea what it's going to taste like, so maybe it will be less than good news.

I also purchased an ingredient kit for some Holiday Ale that I'd like to try for Christmas. Nick wants me to wait until he's home before starting the brew so that he can observe the process. Oh well, what's another recipe when it comes to Thanksgiving.

Over the River and Through the Desert...

...to grandmother's house we've been. We are actually winging along on Interstate 10 in the middle of nowhere, somewhere a little west of Blythe. Denise is driving, as you may have guessed. While I don't know if California's ban on texting while driving applies to blogging I think it's best not to test it.

Actually, Denise insisted on driving so that I will not have to be frustrated by driving in the Sunday evening traffic and can instead relax in the passenger seat being frustrated by her driving. But that's another story.

We drove over to my Mom's house in Prescott, AZ, on Friday evening after work, a pleasant little 6 hour drive. Because my Mom is a sucker for dogs we brought along our little Leo. He is a very good traveler as it turns out, although it's occasionally difficult to get him out of the car for a short rest break and, once out, he can be difficult to get back in. It's not like at 154 pounds I can lift him in if he doesn't want to go.

Of course, the downside of bringing Leo is that he needs a place to sleep. Mom's guest room has a double bed with barely enough room for Denise and me. Leo normally starts out the night on his own bed on the floor, but eventually he gets cold or lonely or just figures "why should I sleep on the floor when they have a bed" and tries to sneak in between the two of us. Leo is actually surprisingly adept at sneaking into our king-sized bed at home. Double bed, not so much. We spent half of each night trying to convince him to get the hell out of our bed. I would have locked him out of the room, but I was afraid he'd go climb in to Mom's bed and smother her.

We were paying my mother a birthday visit, only a month late as it happens. As a belated birthday present I cooked a couple of her favorite meals; Shrimp and Jalapeno-Cilantro Pesto Pizza on Saturday night and Eggs Benedict this morning. At some point over the weekend Denise was discussing assisted living accommodations with Mom, who was saying that with any luck she'll just have a massive heart attack and be spared having to make that transition. If she keeps having me cook for her she will almost certainly get her wish. Her cardiologist would probably shoot me.

The Eggs Benedict were fabulous and not without a great deal of drama. They are something of a pain-in-the-butt to make, trying to get the toasted English muffins, Canadian bacon, poached eggs and Hollandaise all to come together at the same time. Since I could not find a saucepan to my liking I melted the butter in the microwave. Concerned that it might not have completely melted I decided to zap it for an extra 20 seconds or so and the whole mass exploded throwing 1/4 cup of butter over every interior surface of the oven. Nothing worth eating comes out of my kitchen without a fair amount of profanity, and this was no exception. I quickly decided that my choice in saucepans was not as bad as originally thought and melted up a bunch more butter.

Mom apparently enjoyed the results despite the tantrum. Leo was lobbying for a taste, but she wasn't falling for that. (I slipped him a leftover slice of Canadian bacon dipped in Hollandaise which he actually seemed to savor.)

Aside from cooking we spent a lot of time playing Pinochle and I did a few of my semi-annual chores around her house including replacing all the batteries in her smoke detectors. She has a boat load of them, so it's a bigger job than you might think.

This morning I played orthopedic surgeon to Mom's Santa Clause statue. She has a sort of plastic/ceramic Santa that stands about 4 feet tall. He's kind of heavy so she asked me to lift him out of his box so that she'd be able to set him up in her living room a little later this year. When I lifted him out of the box he came out without his feet. They were snapped off, still attached to the plaster base. He's kind of a stupid design, very heavy up top with very delicate ankles. Kind of like a thoroughbred. Mom said that he had been repaired once before by my brother-in-law, but the repair had obviously failed. Never missing an opportunity to embrace my inner MacGyver, I leaped to the rescue. I applied some internal splints of rolled up cardboard and about a pound and a half of hot melt glue and Santa was once again standing on his own two feet.

We big Mom farewell this afternoon and headed west. We'll see her again around Christmas when she comes over to southern California.

(It's time for short commercial break: I have to give kudos to Verizon, because my broadband wireless card has had a signal for almost the entire trip.)

In other news, I bottled my Extra Special Bitter on Thursday night. If all goes well it should be ready for consumption by Thanksgiving. My first batch, the Imperial Blonde Ale, should have completed it's recommended 3 weeks of aging this weekend. I have one waiting in the fridge at home to be consumed as we get the Pilot unloaded and Leo fed.

Short aside; Leo is such a good boy in the car, he's been curled up on his bed in the back and laying there so quietly you'd forget he was there. That is until Denise asked for a snack. I reached into the cooler for a piece of string cheese and Leo's head suddenly popped into the front seat. Nothing motivates that boy like a piece of cheese. He can be sound asleep in our bedroom when I open the cheese drawer in the fridge and, poof, he appears in the kitchen.

It occurs to me that I'm very bad about keeping things up to date in this blog. It seems like less than a week since I last posted, but it's been almost two. Consequently I've neglected to mention our trip up to De Luz last weekend. De Luz is up in the hills west of Temecula, a very nice area apparently ideal for growing avocado orchards and home owners associations. We were invited to a party in a friend's avocado grove. It was a very nice time, or at least what I can remember of it. I was pretty much hammered by the end of the evening. Apparently several people said they did not think I looked drunk, which can only mean that they too were hammered. Denise was kind enough to drive me home. I do remember preparing some queso dip in my Dutch oven. I think it was sauted chorizo, onion, garlic, mushrooms and poblano peppers with shredded Oaxaca and Pepper-Jack cheeses. Good and good for you.

I will try to do better about keeping this thing up to date. Big news coming pretty soon, as Jake will be home for the Thanksgiving holiday starting next Monday. Humboldt State shuts down for the entire Thanksgiving week. Nick on the other hand has classes through Wednesday, so we probably won't see him until very late Wednesday night or in the wee hours of Thanksgiving morning. When he does get home I'll have to get his opinion of my beers. I hope he likes them.

Netflix Owes Me an Evening of My Life Back!

OK, I sat down the other evening fully prepared to dedicate my undivided attention to the fine art of the cinema with a DVD of "Night of the Living Dead" a la Netflix. The remake, not the original George Romero version. It was supposed to be here for Halloween, but the timing got messed up.

Two thirds of the way through the movie the DVD started screwing up, halting and pixelating until finally the whole thing hung and I had to eject the DVD. Repeated attempts at cleaning the disc failed to correct the problem. A final cleaning accompanied by a flourish of expletives actually resulted in the DVD playing through to the thrilling conclusion. Unfortunately, by that time I was completely out of the undead mood.

Netflix is to blame! What am I, their quality control?!?!? Now, I appreciate that Netflix will cheerily send a copy of an damaged DVD so that I might resume watching, but at that point what is the point? I mean, I spent the entire evening establishing the proper mood, by which I mean I lowered the lights and turned on the home theater system. Denise was totally engrossed I am certain, her demeanor notwithstanding.

Oh well, I will have to frighten her with the undead in Nick's closet. I was concerned that the undead in the closet were in fact actually dead, my batch of ESB started on Sunday demonstrating not the least sign of fermentation. I was afraid that my yeast were dead and I would be holding an impromptu funeral in the backyard. Turns out (I think) that the stuff was just not warm enough. The label on the yeast stated that for best fermentation the brew should be kept at a temperature above 70F. Apparently they weren't kidding. The LCD thermometer on my fermenter has been showing 69F pretty consistently. I applied a heating pad to the exterior of the bucket and it appears that fermentation has begun, the little yeasts as happy as clams or as close to clam happiness as unicellular beings are capable.

As long as the heating pad doesn't set fire to our house, all may well be well.

Hmmmm Beer!

My home brew is progressing, having completed it's bottle fermentation the weekend before last. Technically, it was supposed to age for another 3 weeks, but I felt it would be important to try a sample at the start of the aging process so that I would have some basis for comparison.

So, the verdict? Well, I'm not quite sure. It definitely tasted like some manner of ale. Denise seems to think it is very good, but she hasn't really tried that much and doesn't have the breadth of experience that I've acquired through many years applying myself to the study of beer. The kit was a recipe for an Imperial Blonde Ale, according to the literature ideal for those who like big blondes. Unfortunately, for all my vast experience I can't recall that I've ever had an Imperial Blonde Ale, so for all I know my batch could be a perfect rendition.

I tried another sample yesterday, after the first week of aging. It was good enough that I decided I'd better sample another today, just to make sure everything is still progressing appropriately. Alright, I made chili for dinner and who can eat chili without a beer. If I continue to find excuses to sample the stuff I may exhaust the supply before the aging is finished.

Since my first attempt doesn't appear as though it will turn out to be a complete failure I've decided to forge ahead and start a second batch. I found a brewer's supply in Riverside that seemed to have a little bit of everything and spent a little while chatting with one of the employees, a guy who didn't look old enough to be drinking beer, let alone offering advice on home brewing. He was pretty helpful though and I ended up leaving with ingredients for an Extra Special Bitter.

While browsing the shop I noticed a couple of different versions of brewing software. So, arriving at home I fired up the laptop, Googled 'home brewing software' and a few minutes later was running a trial version of "BeerSmith."

It turns out that after a few minutes of playing with the software I realized I haven't got much of a clue about what goes into making beer. Yeast flocculation values? Decoction mash profiles? Strike/infusion temperature? International Bitterness Units? Brewhouse Efficiency? I have much to learn grasshopper.

Ignorant or not, I fired up the stove and boiled up the ESB this afternoon. It is now quietly fermenting in Nick's closet. I think I made fewer mistakes with this batch and I also think I used better ingredients. I'm optimistic, which is never a good sign. Hope for the best and expect the worst is usually the wiser course.

I think that after two batches I have realized that I need better equipment. (A man should never really admit that he has inadequate equipment, but there you go.) Sometime before my next batch I need a bigger brew kettle and a wort chiller.

In other news, Halloween has come and gone. One trick-or-treater was all we could muster and that was Donovan from next door. I guess technically I could claim 2 trick-or-treaters, since I took the opportunity to serve Donovan's dad a little tequila while everyone else was busy admiring Dono's costume.

Of course, trick-or-treaters or not, all the candy will be eaten. Unfortunately by Denise and me.

Halloween is not the holiday that it used to be, actually hasn't been for quite a while. The boys were past trick-or-treating years ago and we've never had many visitors. There are no sidewalks or streetlights in our neighborhood and the houses are too far apart to afford a reasonable candy to distance ratio.

I didn't even bother to carve a pumpkin this year, having gotten all pumpkined-out when our pumpkins matured earlier this summer. After so many pumpkins from the garden I wasn't particularly motivated to by a pumpkin from the supermarket. This is not to say that I did not carve a Jack-o-Lantern. I improvised...

...with a leftover spaghetti squash. OK, it's non-traditional, but I wasn't going to eat this squash anyway. Might as well put him to good use.