In truth almost nothing I’ve ever done was as humbling as my Swiftwater rescue technician certification. I earned it, but I earned it the hard way.
The Humbling River
In truth almost nothing I’ve ever done was as humbling as my Swiftwater rescue technician certification. I earned it, but I earned it the hard way.
Probably not mask time again
If I did a chart of frantic media messaging on COVID (or, increasingly, random respiratory disease panic) over the last couple of months, the spike would hit the stratosphere. The CDC reports of COVID hospitalizations, however, show essentially no trend for those under 75, and a hummock dwarfed by last winter's spike for those 75 and over.
On the Road
I shall be traveling to DC for a few days. This is the first time in three years. I don’t believe that any of you reside there, but shout out if you do.
Some Thoughts on Sensitivity Ethics
A number of interactions and observations online lately have me thinking about sensitivity to others' feelings as an ethical duty. By chance these both arise from the intersection of fantasy worlds and women, though I don't mean to suggest that the women are responsible: in at least one case, it seems to be entirely or almost-entirely men fighting with each other about the portrayal of women.
One of these has to do with an interpretative theory I have about the scene in the Lord of the Rings where Eowyn and the Witch-King of Angmar fight.* I will describe only at the end and after the jump as I have observed that it upsets some people. You can read it if you want, or not. The point is that some people, both women and men who think themselves to be standing up for women, strongly object to this theory. I advance it only because I think it is the correct view of this particular scene, not as part of a broader agenda to speak about the role of women in Tolkien, and especially not to speak about the role of women in general. Yet some women, especially feminists who love Tolkien and for whom this is Tolkien's redeeming moment, strongly object to this theory. Men (who, I believe, mostly want the attention of these women) often also stridently object to it without showing an ability to produce strong evidence against it.
The other one has to do with a group on FB that is for people who grew up playing D&D in the 70s and 80s. It is chiefly a place for nostalgia among what are now middle aged or older men, and my own nostalgic love of the old books and works is strong enough that I continue to show and and look at it even in spite of the several problems I shall describe.** One of the things that people are often nostalgic about is the artwork they remember from these works, on the covers of books, or in allied works like Conan and Red Sonja comics. This occasions regular, indeed almost endless, objections as those works often posed women in improbable forms of maille armor, chain, scale, or otherwise. There is both a Woke group of older men (one imagines bald men with grey ponytails, but perhaps that is unfair) and a Christian*** one who objects to such displays as being an affront to the virtue of chastity. Given the demographic -- 70/80s D&D players -- there are almost no women involved, just as there were almost none involved back then. They can't seem to shut up about it and leave it alone, neither the side that likes to post the old artwork, nor either of the sides that object to them.
More winter traditions
The whooping cranes arrived several weeks ago. A friend just posted this picture on Facebook to show how truly huge they are. This picture was taken within a mile or two or us, I think, where they've been hanging out pretty consistently:
You can see that our local oaks are still looking a little beat up on top, but they're slowly recovering from the hurricane five years ago.
Christmas prep
Strictly speaking, "Christmas prep" is "Advent," but I'm talking about housekeeping matters. I was just about to post an account of our latest foray into pepper sauces when I saw Grim's post about mango hot sauce, which happens to be one of the two we made this year, along with a sweet-and-sour chile sauce. Actually, both are sweet and sour, but the second sauce is tomato-based. Greg made it into a killer sweet-and-sour pork last night, quite fiery. The pork was flour-dusted rather than batter-fried, and I was skeptical, but it was great. If we ever try to serve it to guests, we may tone down the heat a bit. This ended up about as hot as Vindaloo, which suits us both.
We mailed off batches of both kinds of hot sauce to various relatives. (All parcel mailing complete by Dec. 12, a record!) The sauces we've been making since the pepper harvest began to arrive are from this fermented hot sauce cookbook. These are easy recipes, using either with a specialized crock or just a Mason jar that you burp daily for the week or two of the ferment. Usually you cook or blend up the ferment with fresh ingredients when its time is up. You can use fresh or dried peppers.
In other holiday prep news, I set up a dog-proof miniature tree grove on top of the piano for all the little disks I painted last year. They didn't seem to blend well with the crystals and snowflakes on the bigger trees. One display is transparent, lacy, and pastel while the other is large, opaque, regular, primary-colored, and blunt-edged.
I continue to produce about one snowflake a day.
Grim's Christmas Barbecue Sauce
Cast iron cooking gives the best flavor.
A year or so ago I posted a recipe for barbecue sauce. I have a Christmas version that differs slightly, which I made today in order to ship as gifts. I've also refined my technique slightly as I will explain. Here are the recipes, both the Christmas version and the original for ease of reference.
Grim's Christmas Barbecue Sauce
Tomato powder (see note) or 1 can (8oz) tomato paste
Several cups brewed black coffee (more if using tomato powder)
1 tbsp packed brown sugar
1 tbsp blackstrap molasses
1 tbsp onion powder
1 tbsp garlic powder
1 tbsp chipotle powder (a smaller amount of cayenne would be more typical for a Georgia sauce, but the larger quantity of chipotle adds to the smoky flavor)
1 tbsp smoked paprika
1 tsp chili powder (or just ancho chili powder)
1 tsp black pepper
Small shot, Apple cider vinegar
Full shot, Rye whiskey
Salt to taste
The major differences from the original are the addition of Rye whiskey, the increase in smoked paprika to a whole tablespoon, and the use of tomato powder.
This last is an innovation my wife and I have discovered as part of our ongoing Victory Garden efforts. I always make many gallons of spaghetti sauces and various salsas at tomato harvest time, which I can in an over-the-top water bath as it is sufficiently acidic for that method. We still have lots of tomatoes. In the past I've run these through a dehydrator and sealed up like sun-dried tomatoes, but this year my wife learned to make them into tomato powder instead. By crushing the dehydrated tomato slices into powder, you can seal them up with an oxygen absorber that can almost entirely eliminate oxidation. The powder is then shelf-stable for up to 25 years.
At first I didn't know what I'd do with tomato powder, but it turns out to be a real advantage in the kitchen. It allows for a very fine control over both the tomato-y-ness of the sauce, stew, chili, or whatever else you are making; and it's a great thickener. You can add another dash, a teaspoon, a cup, or whatever else you'd like to achieve the desired thickness and tomato flavor. I highly recommend it.
Tomato Powder.
I also learned to make Hungarian Chicken Paprikash this year, and learned thereby that you can use much larger quantities of paprika to create a richer sauce. I thus tripled the amount of smoked paprika (and only smoked for this version: with the chipotle, it gives the sauce a spicy, smoky kick).
The original sauce was a Georgia-style spicy tomato-based barbecue sauce. The major difference between that style and the eastern Tennessee style is whiskey. This version is for gifting, and all my family is from east Tennessee. I tried Tennessee whiskey in it, but the corn flavor is unpleasant to me. Rye whiskey compliments the spiciness nicely. I used Bulleit Frontier Whiskey Rye.
If you use the 8oz of tomato paste, you'll only need maybe four cups of coffee; if you use the tomato powder, you'll need to add quite a bit more (or hot water if you prefer to keep the coffee content near the original). Once it's all cooked together, adding water and/or tomato powder to give it the desired flavor and thickness, this should produce almost exactly one quart of sauce. I recommend dividing this into two pints and over-the-top water canning it, which allows it to be stored or shipped as gifts to appreciative family or friends.
The original recipe is below for ease of reference and comparison.
Grim's Barbecue Sauce (Original)
1 can (8 oz) tomato paste
Several cups brewed black coffee
1 tbsp packed brown sugar
1 tbsp blackstrap molasses
1 tbsp onion powder
1 tbsp garlic powder
1 tbsp chipotle powder (a smaller amount of cayenne would be more typical for a Georgia sauce, but the larger quantity of chipotle adds to the smoky flavor)
1 tsp smoked or hot paprika
1 tsp chili powder (or just ancho chili powder)
1 tsp black pepper
Small shot, Apple cider vinegar
Salt to taste
Canning complete.
UPDATE:
