We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
I've been to Trapani (west coast of Sicily), and have even taken a little boat out to the Egadi Islands to bike around and eat good seafood.
The area around Trapani is full of salt flats which are windmill-filled.
You can buy their Sicilian sea salt on Amazon. Sure, salt is salt and "sea salt" is the same thing but it's fun to use their sea salt. I like the coarse type which does not fit in a salt-shaker. That's why we use salt bowls. I love salt.
I am willing to eat 2 or 3 Brussel Sprouts just for the virtue of it. It's odd, because I do enjoy regular cabbage.
Anyway, our Brussel Sprouts recipe is this: First, freeze them if only for a few hours. Why? Cuz they are better with a little freeze. Then chop in half and cook in bacon chunks under the broiler or in a cast iron pan with salt and pepper.
I've been off chicken since my nasty experience with Campylobacter a year ago. Not rational I know, but I do not want to go through that hospital adventure again.
They seem to have their origin in New Guinea where they have been domesticated for maybe 10,000 years. The "trees" - not really trees - die after producing a bunch once. And the fruit is technically a berry.
A Banana Split used to be a cool dessert. I like cooked Plantains.
Sloe Gin is a Brit thing. I'm not aware of people growing Sloes in the US. Sloe Gin is technically a liqueur and ideally homemade.
All I've heard of is a Sloe Gin Fizz. I'd try one and I'm sure I'd like it, but I do not handle booze well anymore other than wine and beer. I do love a gin martini, but...
I know that The Last Gentleman is his most famous book.
Percy, along with Mark Helprin and Cormac McCarthy, are the few contemporary authors for whom I have read everything they have written. True, they are all a bit dark at times.
I like this Amazon intro to Mark Helprin:
Educated at Harvard, Princeton, and Oxford, MARK HELPRIN served in the Israeli army, Israeli Air Force, and British Merchant Navy. He is the author of, among other titles, A Dove of the East and Other Stories, Refiner's Fire, Winter's Tale, and A Soldier of the Great War. He lives in Virginia.
I have not been much of a fan of fruit since I was a kid, but I do love grilled fruit for dessert or even as a side dish. Grilled Pineapple is the best thing with grilled Swordfish.
Most kinds of fruit can be grilled (apples and pears take longer than most). In Italy, fresh or grilled fruit is the usual dessert. (Gelato is not dessert - it's a street snack.)
No need for a recipe, but you can sprinkle some sugar on the fruit while on the grill.
I like all kinds of seafood. Shellfish especially. Mussels in a tasty broth, you betcha. No cilantro is my rule.
While banging around the New England coast on our boat this week we stumbled in the best mussels I've ever had - and I've had lots of them. Noah's in Essex, CT, on the river. Seafood place.
For one thing, these were large mussels, not the 2" ones. But they were steamed in their broth with the following ingredients: harissa,chermoula, cherry tomatoes, plenty of whole garlic cloves, chopped shallots. With toasted bread of course.
I had no clue what harrissa or chermoula were, but have to make me some chermoula soon (no cilantro). I think it would be good for baked Cod.
I'd be happy to live on those mussels for a week. With some wine of course. It's not that mussel broth require all of those ingredients, but it was amazing.
Mussels are "farmed," of course, nowadays. It's a real business and I am a good customer.
The Filipino version. I always thought the word was Philippino or something but I checked.
Anyway, we had a Filipino helper for years, when the kids were younger, and, without wanting to be racist, I still believe that they are the best people in the world. Besides their work ethic, they seem to be caring and loving souls. Yes, I know they like to eat dogs but that's a stretch for me.
She liked to make Filipino suppers, and I was all in on that. This was one of my favorites, served with white rice. The tripe is not required, but the peanut butter is, along with lots of pumpkin hunks:
On the Atlantic coast from Nova Scotia down to the Gulf of Mexico, it's molting season for the Blue Crab.
Some people don't mind picking the meat out of these delicious Blue Crabs for crab salad, crab cakes, a crab boil, or She-crab soup, but my preference is Soft-Shelled, right after the molt. You just eat the whole juicy thing, feathers and all. No waste whatsoever.
Sometimes you will get a batch of crabs whose new shells have begun to firm up a little too much, and are too chewy. I don't like that. Chewy is fine, but hard is not.
If you have any sauteed crabs left-over in the fridge, you can put one on white bread with some mayonnaise and salt and pepper, and it might be the best sandwich in the world.
It's the time of year when you send your kids or grandkids on the coast of New England out to the salt marshes and mudflats to dig Steamers at low tide. They are the most delicious seafood in the world. AKA Soft-Shelled Clams.
Digging for Steamers takes a bit of skill and gentle use of the right tool (a clam rake or, better yet, a clam fork), because you don't want to crack their fragile shells. And you have to know where to look, because they cluster. The fun part is getting covered with black marsh mud without having to pay for a spa.
You steam up a giant pot of them, just long enough for them to open and cook a bit, but not so long that they get tough or fall apart. You want to steam them, so don't use too much water in the pot. It's acceptable to throw a slice of onion in the water.
Then you pour everybody a mug of the broth from the pot and a heaping pile of clams. That broth is the essence of the sea and the marshes. And you give everybody a bowl of melted butter. I prefer them without the butter so you get the pure clammy flavor. You pull them out of the shell using their long necks as a handle, and I toss the necks to the gulls.
These in the photo below are not Steamers. These are Littleneck Clams, which should never, ever be cooked for any reason - which they have been in the photo. It's a disgrace. Cooking them turns them into clam-flavored chewing gum. They should only be slurped down fresh and alive:
These are Steamers. These precious critters are only eaten steamed, and I am convinced that God made them for that purpose:
We have the whole crew here this year, sadly without Popop who died a couple of weeks ago. Mrs. BD is busy picking out his funeral music. Yes, it will be an RC Funeral Mass.
Thanks to God, life goes on and Easter is a magical day, a feast day in Christianity.
I'm grilling 2 marinated butterflied legs of lamb - might be more than 16 people need especially including the littles. I have 4 1/2 grandkids and 4 step-grandkids.
Mrs. BD is making 2 traditional Rice Pies. I made some mint sauce. Everybody else has to bring sides.
I think we'll watch the NYC St. Patrick's Easter Mass live on the machine in the morning, cuz too much to do to get to our church. Yes, we Protestants do love an RC Mass and I do like Cardinal Dolan. Same narrative.
Easter blessings to all, regardless of views on existence and its mysteries.
I happen to love corned beef and cabbage (plus potatoes) - as long as there is plenty of horseradish mustard and beer.
The real name of the meal is New England Boiled Dinner. I cook it all together in a giant pot. If the pickled beef needs a knife, it's underdone. I think it should almost crumble.
I make some for family, including my Irish father-in-law, yearly. No Guiness, though. It really does not go with food in my opinion. Heck, it's a meal in itself. In Irish pubs, they throw one or two raw eggs in it, stir it up, and call it breakfast.
(Our kids are 25% Irish, 25% Southern Italian, 40% English, and 10% Scandinavian probably via the Norman invasion. In other words, all- American. Genetic mongrelization worked well for our kids, cuz I am 90% English, around 10% Scandinavian and thus overly-inbred in New England since the 1600s.)