Monday, October 30, 2017

Calf blood? But I'm still a foodie!

Heat for the blood milk in Kenya
We only have about 4 score on this earth. Understanding that  too well, I have been a person who has enjoyed experimenting with adventure. Whether it's hiking the AT or deep sea fishing, I have wanted to be able to say, "Yes!" I’ve had that experience. Travel is no exception. Exploring the world has taken me into the unique barrios of Paraguay, to Buenos Aires where I stood in front of the Casa Rosada (crying 'Eva Peron!"). Liz and I camped in a tent in the Serengeti (Kenya) for five days once where we had the uninvited baboon tapping on the top of our tent as our wake up call at dawn. We’ve even sat on the side streets of the Champs-Elysées in Paris and watched the sun go down over the Arc de Triomphe while eating the most delicious cheese.



The common denominator of all of these adventures was not just the incredible vistas like the plains of the Rift Valley, or the river views along the Uruaguay  in Argentina, it was the fact that we had to have three square meals a day. The culinary experiences are things we still talk about.

Elizabeth tasting Terere in Paraguay
In Paraguay, we tried terere. This is considered the national beverage in Paraguay It’s made from the yerba mate plant. It is served cold in guampas. A guampas is made out of wood or of hollow bull horn. The drink, nationwide is drunk through a metal straw called a

bombilla. (For my Church of Christ Friends and Southern Baptists, it’s not alcohol, but it will give you a buzz).

Our visitor in Kenya
In Africa, we ate at a restaurant called Carnivore. It was located in Nairobi. In the restaurant, there were live fire grills, with skewers of just about every kind of east African meat you can imagine. This protein experience was amazing as Liz and I had been in Kisumu, West Kenya on a very limited diet.

Dung hut in the Maasia of Kenya.
Most shocking of the culinary opportunities we've had was found in the Serengeti (stop reading if you have a weak stomach). On an animal drive one day, we came upon a tribe of Maasai with its circular dung huts. We were invited in. These are the groups where the men jump vertically as a dance ritual. We actually visited the inside of a tribal leader’s dung hut. It was a tiny hut clad in manure and water. Still it was as strong as concrete…and no, it doesn’t smell like you would think. Inside the hut was a bedroom for the owner and his family. In the center was a closet where the family kept a calf and on the right-hand side was an open fire pit, producing smoke which
The calf's bedroom in the hut
made the experience unbearable for us to remain there for over a few minutes. So what was the culinary opportunity that I didn’t indulge in? It was the  traditional Maasai drink of cow's blood and milk. They had a

milk cow and got some fresh milk then made a small slit in the cow's neck to mix blood into the fresh milk. The tribesman offered me a drink and was disappointed I didn’t partake (would you??).



Since I’m sure you’re not interested in terere or blood milk. Let me share with you a favorite breakfast idea that we discovered at a restaurant in Steamboat, Colorado called Creekside.



If you’ve never poached an egg, put a pot of water on the stove, ad about a 1/4 cup of white vinegar and a table spoon of salt. While you’re bring that water to a boil, cut an English muffin in half and be toasting it. While the water is boiling, turn the heat down to a lite boil and gently crack your eggs in the pot (if you break your yokes, throw them away…you’ve lost the best part of the poached experience). After about 4 minutes, the whites of the egg will have enveloped the yokes and begin to float. That means they’re ready. You will need to be making a hollandaise mix so pick up a package at the grocery storage and don’t forget the butter and lemon.

 Step two: place a piece of smoked salmon on the toasted muffin, make sure and take your poached egg gently (and I mean gently) pat the moisture off of it to remove any hint of vinegar. The vinegar helps with the poaching process, you don’t want to taste the vinegar on the final product. Once you have the salmon and poached egg on the muffin, pour the hollandaise sauce all over the top of the egg. Not too much or you’ll lose the delicious taste of the yoke. The last two things you’ll want to add will be finely chopped red onions and capers. A caper is a pickled edible flower bud. These are found in the wild in the Mediterranean and East Africa.  They will add a tart salted seasoning to the dish. You can pick this up at any grocery store.

Probably my favorite breakfast,


Once you have added all this, you have what the world calls a "New Yorker Poached Egg".

Always try to enjoy life and sample the flavors of the culture that surround you. You won't regret it, unless its fresh from the cow and calf :-).

Enjoy food

Wednesday, October 11, 2017

Fall. The leaves call out her name!

Every October, I am reminded about a significant event that happened in my young married life. Indulge me for a moment.
I grew up in a house with a patient mother and an aging grandmother who ran a country store. On a Wednesday night, she attended midweek bible study, left with a headache, went home and sat on the bed with a beet red look upon her face. She lost her speech before she was taken to the hospital. 
A North Carolina Fall Season
Laying on the hospital bed, her eyes became paralyzed staring at the ceiling. Still speechless we all spoke to her as thought she could her us. I guess I won't know until heaven if she heard our departing words. Slowly the monitors began to loose the beat; and then Dr. Edwards said "She's gone".
Grandmaw was the first close person in my life to leave this earth. 
The reason I am posting this is because I remember the day of her memorial. A classic Carolina fall day. Perfect temperature. The leaves were rich with color. The cumulus nimbus clouds were bellowing almost as though God was separating the sky for her entrance into heaven. 

God's gift was not just years of having a grandmother who lived with me, co-reared me, and raised me in many ways, but his gift was a beautiful departure on her memorial day. The leaves are a reflection of the life she lived; beautiful, colorful,  and later wrinkled. Even her vascular hands were like the vains in the leafs. 
Continue to RIP Ms. Ella. The leaves are calling out your name this season.