I like sitting in European cafes, sipping a cafe or a beer, maybe having a smoke, and watching the world go by. I also like running around trying to see everything noteworthy, but as I get older I appreciate just soaking up the atmosphere and the feel of a place.

I have seen, and prayed in, more medieval cathedrals than my brain can ever absorb, and I do not do shopping.

A re-post from our archives -

The Bird Dog family enjoys providing coffee hour at church. It's a gratifying ministry because it promotes fellowship. The more goodies you provide, the more fellowship you nurture, and the longer folks stick around and get to know eachother.

If a church is a manifestation of the living body of Christ, you can't have loose body parts all over the place: a congregation needs to congregate, in small groups and in large. Other churches in the area have copied our tradition of providing more than coffee and a pitiful bowl of goldfish crackers. We do brunch, essentially. Here is what we brought today:

Bagels and cream cheese; red and white grapes; plain pound cake, sesame pound cake, walnut pound cake; Vermont cheddar, brie, and Roquefort cheese and crackers; blanched carrots, broccoli, sugar snap peas and string beans with blue cheese dip; strawberries with sugar to dip them into (no matter how many you bring, they will disappear fast - the kids go for them like piranhas); cheese "Danish" pastries, tortilla chips with that excellent Costco salsa and Costco guacamole; corn muffins, chocolate chip muffins and blueberry muffins; croissants. Coffee, cider, and orange juice. I forgot to bring the sliced red peppers for the vegetable dip, and forgot the strawberry jam for the corn muffins.

I was surprised by how the blue cheese disappeared first today, and I brought a huge hunk. We don't bring doughnuts anymore because the little kids stuff themselves with them and the fussy parents don't seem thrilled with that. Next time, I think we'll bring a spiral-cut ham with honey mustard, and slice up a mountain of baguettes. This would be good with a ton of sliced melons. (Too bad we don't do wine and beer too - people would never go home.)

I had an appetizer plate of top-flight local Gorgonzola Dolce Gran Riserva in Italy last summer, up north in Piedmont where they make the stuff.

It had little in common with the supermarket stuff we get here in the USA. It was creamy, not crumbly, and it was tasty as heck but without any sharpness. It was not meant to be thrown in a salad or on top of a burger, but to be eaten reverently (or irreverently) with a fork in thin slices, with some slices of fruit on the side. Which I did.

It was expensive, too.

The weather is finally (just barely) warm enough for smokin' season.

I have had a gigantic, fat-covered pork shoulder in this thing for a few hours, covered with my good tasty stuff pork smoking rub.

With the cool breezes today - still waiting for real summer - it will take quite a few hours more until it is fork-tender.

This cheapo electric smoker never quite gets hot enough. My big smoker-grill is great, but I only have time to tend it on weekends.

The smell of the meaty, peppery, fatty smoke from the fresh pear tree chunks is at least half of the pleasure.

The Shrimp and Grits I had on Saturday in Alabama were served hot in large Martini glasses with a tiny silver spoon. It was something new to me. Like a dessert. The shrimp and sauce were spooned on top of the grits.

I detected a faint hint of cilantro and lime in the shrimp sauce, but I do not have the recipe. The shrimp were sweet as sugar, fresh from the Gulf, and bite-sized - about an inch long. I do prefer the tender little ones to the big ones for most purposes.

I learned the below from this site (which includes one of the countless recipes for this treat)

In the Low Country of South Carolina and particularly Charleston, shrimp and grits has been considered a basic breakfast for coastal fishermen and families for decades during the shrimp season (May through December). Simply called 'breakfast shrimp," the dish consisted of a pot of grits with shrimp cooked in a little bacon grease or butter. During the past decade, this dish has been dressed up and taken out on the town to the fanciest restaurants. Not just for breakfast anymore, it is also served for brunch, lunch, and dinner.

Of course I remember.

AVI wants some help remembering old 'Gansett commercials.

'Gansett, Knickerbocker, Rheingold, Piel's - I do recall them all. We are now just left with watery old Rolling Rock and the delicious Ballantine Ale - if you can find it.

The Maggie's Farm cafeteria refuses to serve fancy beers for breakfast or lunch, because beer ain't sposta be fancy (good stuff like Guiness is different - it's a meal, not a beer - and even more so if you stir one or two raw eggs into a pint for breakfast like they do in Ireland).

Wine is another matter.

A fun theory says modern humans are all about the home-cooked meal.

Make mine barbecued short ribs with sides of cheese grits and cucumber slaw, and a few Rolling Rocks.

Kind of cool. (h/t, Ace). I would like to see more.

Many of those lunches look darn good, but the crap the American kids seem to want looks disgusting. Anyway, if I ate lunches like these I'd be asleep for two hours afterwards. An apple is about all I can handle if I have things to do.

Photo is a school lunch in China. Looks good to me - especially that fried fish.

Terrific stuff. Cheap, too. We have had Crab Cake recipe wars here recently, but here are some more simple recipes. I put no flavorings in the cakes, because I like the main taste to be the tender, succulent, subtle crabmeat, which is why my favorite food in the world is sauteed soft-shelled crab.

Except maybe Halibut with capers, or Shad Roe with bacon, or Bluefin Tuna belly just seared on the grill, or rare roast beef with horseradish and Yorkshire pudding, or Shepherd's Pie, or barbecued short ribs with cornbread, or Chicken Pot Pie, or black bean soup with jalapenos and mashed potatoes, or plain mashed potatoes, or a real Gumbo made by my Louisiana pal, or a Woodcock dumpling with gibier sauce, black truffle, and Porcini mushrooms, or ...

Thanks, COSTCO. Good stuff, but I only needed 2 cups. Now what do I do with the rest?

When I was a kid, my babysitter would take me fishing for Blue Crabs off the dock. What it required was a string with a hunk of bacon tied to the end. When you gently pulled it up to just below the surface, you needed a crab net to scoop up the crabs clinging to the bacon. Otherwise, they would let go of the bacon.

My Mom was never disappointed to find a bucket of two dozen crabs when she got home.

We have posted, somewhat disparagingly, about the Blue Crab's natural history and the Blue Crab as dining material, (too much effort, basically) but we never have disparaged good Maryland crab cakes, especially when consumed in volume with volumes of bad beer in low-life Maryland tatoo pubs with dogs walking around, after a day of duck hunting.

The subject comes up because we noticed projects about the aquaculture of Blue Crabs. Very cool. Fresh water? Who would have thought it?

Here's how they raise them from broodstock.

What a clever country we are. Speaking of clever people, Sippican sends this recipe:

CRAB CAKES
            1/2 stick (1/4 cup) unsalted butter, melted and cooled
            4 large eggs, beaten lightly
            6 tablespoons sour cream
            1/4 cup minced fresh parsley leaves (preferably flat-leafed)
            2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
            1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
            1 teaspoon paprika
            1/2 teaspoon salt, or to taste
            1/4 teaspoon cayenne, or to taste
            2 pounds lump crab meat, picked over
            2 cups fine fresh bread crumbs
            1/3 cup cornmeal
            1/2 cup vegetable oil

            tarragon tartar sauce as an accompaniment
            lemon wedges as an accompaniment

            In a bowl whisk together the butter, the eggs, the sour cream, the pa rsley, the
            lemon juice, the Worcestershire sauce, the paprika, the salt, and the cayenne and
            stir in the crab meat and the bread crumbs gently. Form 1/2-cup measures of the
            mixture into twelve 3/4-inch-thick cakes and transfer the crab cakes as they are
            formed to a baking sheet sprinkled with half the cornmeal. Sprinkle the crab
            cakes with the remaining cornmeal and chill them, covered with plastic wrap, for
            at least 1 hour or overnight.

            In a large heavy skillet heat the oil over moderately high heat until it is hot but
            not smoking and in it sauté the crab cakes in batches, turning them once, for 3 to
            4 minutes on each side, or until they are golden, transferring them as they are
            cooked to paper towels to drain. Keep the crab cakes warm on another baking
            sheet in a 200°F. oven. Serve the crab cakes with the tarragon tartar sauce and
            the lemon wedges.
            Makes about 12 crab cakes, serving 6.

I'd skip the bread crumbs. They dilute the crab meat.

This weekend, I plan to use this pot roast recipe with a venison rump I have in the freezer. I wonder how it would work for shoulder too. I have one of those in the freezer. No, two shoulders.

There's always a navarin like this for the shoulder meat.

A re-post from 2007 -

The post about Beantown food yesterday, with the link to Sissy Willis' baked bean recipe, put me to thinking about some of my favorite fall and winter foods. I guess spending yesterday afternoon getting a couple of loads of firewood with a friend's truck helped.

Johnnycakes, or Cornmeal pancakes, or these. You can do them with or without flour in the mix. I like to add a can of canned or frozen corn to the batter: it's one of the very few valid uses of canned corn.

(In fact, corn is a nice addition to regular pancake batter too. Give it a try. Of course, cranberries are great in pancakes. Their tartness adds a lot of zip to a dull pancake.)

Indian Pudding. It's what was called "Hasty Pudding," but made with corn meal, and cooked slowly - never hastily. A little ice cream or drizzled heavy cream on top.

Why is Boston called Beantown? It's because of the triangular trade. Here's a Durgin-Park recipe. Really good with black bread. Heck, I even like baked beans from the can. Our reader reminds us that, in the old days, beans or peas in the pot were termed "Pease Porridge."

I'll do Yankee apple desserts in another post.

Can you identify these wild ducks? Gwynnie cooked these for me and Mrs. BD for dinner last night, on the grill. (Do not say Huey, Dewey and Louie) With Cumberland Sauce. (Answer below the fold)

Yesterday was our neighborhood First Annual Deep-Fry Your Turkey Day. We did 9 smallish turkeys, 2 ducks, three chickens. We cranked it up right after church. It was cold enough that we had trouble getting the peanut oil above 320, so it took longer than we planned. All the neighbors got well-fed last night, and all dogs enjoyed the venison butchering scraps. It was reminiscent of a barn-raising.

Why go to the trouble of setting up a fryer just for oneself? We served tons of beer, and venison-black bean soup and cornbread. And cupcakes. And ceegars. Red-neck Yankees know how to have fun. Next time, we'll do two pots of oil, not one, to halve the time - but we did not expect such a response for a last-minute plan. All dogs were invited, too, of course.

One bucket of birds in brine:

Our fryer set-up. The basket insert works best for the turkeys, but chickens and ducks don't need it and can just go on the stick.

Our Louisiana-style rub and bird-injection table. The green stuff is sauteed, pureed, then strained garlic, shallot, onion, carrot, and celery for injecting.

We cranked up one of these in the driveway to keep warm. Worked well, as long as it didn't set you afire.

 We set it all up like this. Readers have seen that old fire engine before.

We also had the last doe of the season to butcher as the birds were frying. She'd been hanging for a couple of weeks, but probably frozen through most of the time. Note Golden chewing on the hide. That always happens. A pal is just beginning the skinning. I brought home a foreleg with the hair for my pup to play with. Yes, that is an old fireplace in the 1890 garage, so the gentry would not have to get into a cold car. For the comfort of the chauffeur no doubt, too.

That's how one of my LI ducks came out of the fryer:

How is the turkey after all of this effort - overnight brining, injecting, Cajun rubs, etc.? Tastes like turkey, but pretty good turkey. The skin is especially good. In future, I think I'll do ducks and chickens, but not turkey - things with a higher skin/meat ratio.

I brought a venison shoulder home, too, from that doe in the garage. I think I'll braise it with root vegetables when the turkey is eaten.

What a fine country we Americans live in. We are not convinced that the Obamanites know how to appreciate it. A good life is a simple matter.

Suffolk Rabbit Pie. Yum. A tasty Medieval dinner. My supermarket has frozen rabbit. (But I thought Rabbit Joints aka rabbet joints were a cabinetmaking deal.) I guess they mean thigh and leg. I assume you remove the bones before putting it in the pie, but they aren't clear on that.

Rabbit with Garlic. Wow.

I don't know what Mayor Bloomberg is having for dinner. Maybe tofu salad with a glass of water. But if you have any pheasants in the freezer, this sounds good:

Pheasant supremes with sage and onion fritters, caramelised apples and Calvados sauce