27. November 2015 · Comments Off on Eternal Turkey, Strong to Save · Categories: Domestic

It was automatic, the family ritual for disposing of the post-Thanksgiving left-over turkey – and all the other dishes. On the day after, warmed-up everything. On the day after that, hot turkey sandwiches. On the day after that – when the stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy had usually been completely consumed – then cold turkey sandwiches. Followed on subsequent evenings by turkey ala king, turkey loaf and turkey croquettes. Finally, when the turkey carcass had been substantially reduced to small scraps and bones, it all went into the stock-pot and we had turkey stew for another two weeks. Generally, by the time we polished off the Thanksgiving turkey, we would only have had a weeks’ grace before commencing on the Christmas turkey. These days, if I have prepared one for Thanksgiving (not a guarantee, actually – for some years I have been by myself and fixed something small and non-traditional) I have usually been so sick of leftover turkey that for Christmas we have fixed just about anything else as a main dish for Christmas dinner.

But leftovers, like the poor, and the Christmas shopping rush – will always be with us. This recipe, for a pot-pie with a cheddar-biscuit crust is especially tasty, for the chief reason that it doesn’t look, or taste like an obvious leftover. This is one of those recipes that I copied by hand from a magazine, or a newspaper, into my own little collection.

 Turkey Pot-pie with a Cheddar Crust

Simmer until just tender in 3 cups water – 1 lb peeled, cubed butternut squash. Turn off heat, and add to hot water and cubed squash – 1 cup frozen lima beans. Allow to sit a moment, before draining and reserving cooked vegetables, and 1 cup of the cooking water.

In a large skillet, melt 3 Tbsp. butter, and make a roux with 2 Tbsp. flour. Wisk in the 1 cup cooking water from the vegetables and 1 cup chicken or turkey broth, with 2 Tbsp minced fresh sage, 5 oz. pealed pearl onions. Simmer for 10 minutes and add 3 cups cubed cooked turkey, and the lima beans and squash. Pour into a 1 ½ quart shallow baking dish’

Combine in another bowl: 1 ¼ cup flour and 1 ½ tsp. baking powder. Stir in 1 Tbsp cold butter, 1 ½ cups grated sharp cheddar, 4 slices crisp and crumbled cooked bacon. Stir ½ to 2/3 cup cold milk to make a loose dough, and pipe around the edge of the baking dish. Bake at 425 for 20-25 minutes. This will not appear anything like leftovers. Trust me.

26. November 2015 · Comments Off on A Reminiscence: Thanksgiving in the Barracks,1978 · Categories: Domestic

(A re-run from my original military blog, and I thought I had included this in Air Force Daze, but it seems I put it in my first book, Our Grandpa Was an Alien, without the stuffing recipe.)

The women-only barracks was the only one that contained a working kitchen. Once upon a time, all the female troops were assigned to a WAF squadron, and lived in the WAF barracks. The WAF separate command was long gone by my first year in Japan, but all the females, no matter if they were assigned to the hospital, CE (Civil Engineering), SPS (Security Police Squadron), CBPO (Consolidated Base Personnel Office) , the Hill (Shussh! You can’t talk about The Hill!!!) – we all lived in the one building. This had several advantages, notably in the efficient base-wide transmission of gossip, and in letting us scamper between our rooms and the gang latrines dressed in little more than a towel or underwear, but possession of a kitchen was most highly prized.

Besides that, the dining hall was a good bit away, and the aesthetics of the Japanese cooks led them to unsettling practices like adorning the meatloaf with maraschino cherries. God knows, it might be rather attractive in theory, but it was still very disconcerting to be eating your meatloaf and two veg and discovering the maraschinos. Eventually, a group of us began taking turns fixing something on a Sunday afternoon, and sharing it out with anyone without dinner plans: “Just bring your plate and a fork, and a chair down to the common room” we said. A girl from Georgia fixed real Southern fried chicken one week, the next weekend the resident vegetarian baked a vat of eggplant parmigana. So when fall came around, and Thanksgiving drew closer, it seemed only logical to do our own Thanksgiving dinner. Most of the traditional dishes are fairly simple, after all. We took up a fund for groceries, did a headcount of who wouldn’t be going to their supervisors’ houses and immediately hit a snag:

“Who’s going to do the turkey?” was the main question, followed by “Well, who helped enough at home to stuff and bake a 20lb turkey without giving anyone food poisoning?” (This has always been stressed on the AFRTS spots at that time of year.)

I had helped Mom and Granny Jessie with the Thanksgiving and Christmas turkeys since… well, I was unwary enough to admit it. Before I could come up with a plausible way to wiggle out, I was rushing to the commissary with a pocket full of crumpled notes and change on the Wednesday afternoon, with just fifteen minutes before I had to be up the hill and on-shift at the TV station.

Turkey, 20+ pounds, frozen solid: OK, I would leave it to defrost outside in my car during the shift; Northern Japan in November was slightly chillier than the inside of most refrigerators anyway. Onionscelerysagesausage…bread. Mom always bought a loaf of bakery wheat bread, tore each slice into clunks and dried them on a sheet-cake pan in the closet where the hot water heater lived. I zigged down the bakery aisle, threw a loaf into the basket and headed for the quick-checkout register, making it to work with about a half-minute to spare.

Didn’t even notice until I got back to the barracks that night, and took out the bread that I had a loaf of rye. Damn and blast! There was no way to get a loaf of wheat bread, no way at all. What the hell— I tore up the rye loaf, reasoning that with all the other stuff and a ladle of gravy on top, who the heck would ever notice a few caraway seeds or not.
It worked— made the best bread stuffing ever! I’ve done it with rye bread ever since. (Unless I do the Rock Cornish hen with wild rice stuffing instead) So without further ado:

Sgt. Mom’s Rye Stuffing

Tear apart or cut into cubes one loaf rye bread. Dry until crisp in a warm area, or an oven set to the lowest temperature available.
Heat to simmering 2-4 cups unsalted vegetable or chicken broth.
Rinse inside and out, and pat dry with paper towels one turkey. Remove the bag with giblets and set aside. Do not forget these; you will use them for the gravy base.
In a large frying pan, brown 1/2 to 1 lb bulk sausage. When done, drain off fat, and set sausage to drain on paper towels. Add 1/4 to 1/2 cup butter to frying pan, and sauté until translucent:
1 onion, chopped finely
2-3 stalks celery, sliced finely
Add:
Handful of celery leaves, also chopped
2 to 4 Tbsp. fresh parsley, chopped
Sage to taste, either fresh and sliced, or dried and crumbled
Pepper to taste
8-ox box of mushrooms, cleaned and sliced
Empty the dried bread into the largest bowl you have, add the cooked sausage, the sautéed vegetables, and moisten with the broth. You can add chopped cooked chestnuts at this point. The stuffing should not be soggy. Stuff the turkey according to custom. Whatever stuffing does not fit in the bird can be baked in a covered casserole for the last hour or so. Generally its 15-20 minutes per pound for a smaller bird, 13-15 minutes per pound for larger, or so sayeth “Joy Of Cooking”.
While the bird bakes, take the giblets and the neck and simmer them in a heavy saucepan in the leftover broth and enough water to make about 3 cups of liquid. Finely chop the giblets and neck meat when thoroughly cooked, and mix a little water with flour to thicken it all, and there’s your gravy.
With luck, there will be no leftovers.

12. November 2015 · Comments Off on Christmas is a-Coming … · Categories: Book Event, Domestic

And the goose is getting fat … time to put a penny in the poor author’s hat … yep, much appreciated, as the household account was depleted yesterday by the death of the Whirlpool dryer. Which, as the darned thing was twenty years old, was hardly unexpected; this was the last of the three household appliances that I purchased at the Base Exchange when I bought my house and moved into it in 1995. The washer was replaced two years ago, the refrigerator about 18 months ago, so the dryer was surviving on borrowed time, and becoming increasingly inefficient. This, in spite of having applied the business end of the shop-vac to the house dryer vent and cleared out all the lint … and seriously, the shop-vac could – in a colorful and slightly off-color simile – suck the paint off a car fender.

Anyway – off to the friendly neighborhood Scratch and Dent Super-Store, where amazing bargains are to be had, as the various large household appliances are available for quite good and readily negotiable prices (with delivery, installation and haul-away of the old appliance for an additional reasonable charge) since the items on hand are either slightly dinged, surplus to requirements at the original retailer, overages from the manufacturer, special-orders not redeemed at the last minute, et cetera. It’s a mixed bag, usually limited to what they have on hand at any given minute … but they will bargain, and we promptly had discounts on a suitable model which 9780989782050-Perfect.inddwas a good match for the washer – discounts for being repeat customers, veterans and referring neighbors right and left. We like this place – the sales staff have the authority to negotiate; so very rare in a top-down corporate enterprise world. Even with tax and delivery, the cost of a replacement dryer still came out to about two-thirds what it would have been new, from any other retailer. It was promptly delivered today … but in the meantime … the other schedule. The seasonal crush of market events begins for both my daughter and I, even before Thanksgiving. We have a full schedule of events, beginning this weekend and running nearly up to Christmas itself. I usually try and time my book releases for this season; this year it is different because a) two books are in play, and my daughter has co-author credit for one of them. She came up with the characters and the general plot, and I write the rest; fine-tune the plot, the conversations, and descriptions.

This Saturday is a craft fair in Bulverde, at the Bulverde Spring Branch Activity Center, 30280 Cougar Bend. Then, on next Friday and Saturday, the 20th and 21st, it’s the New Braunfels Weihnachtsmarkt, in the New Braunfels Civic Center. This is the planned launch event for both of the new books: Sunset and Steel Rails, and The Chronicles of Luna City. The New Braunfels Civic Center is at 375 S Castell Ave – which is the main street running east from IH 35 into the old downtown part of New Braunfels.

Then – we will be in Miss Ruby’s Author Corral, somewhere about Goliad’s downtown square on the 5th of December — sometimes the Author Corral is in one of the shop-fronts along Courthouse Square. We are tentatively set for an event in Helotes on December 13th, and we might still have the stamina for a final pre-Christmas market in Boerne on the following weekend.

9780989782241-Perfect.2.inddOf the two books, Sunset and Steel Rails is a historical novel, set between 1884 and 1900, following the experiences of a young woman who comes west as a Harvey Girl. She is, all unknowing, related to the Vining and Becker families through her grandfather, who had a family in Boston … and another one in Texas, four decades previously. It overlaps with The Quivera Trail – and a fair number of characters from that book, and the Trilogy generally make appearances – but again, it is an independently-standing narration.

The Chronicles of Luna City is something quite different – an exploration of a little town in South Texas, through short stories, blog-posts and news stories. I’ve posted some of them here; sometime in mid-summer we were struck by an inspiration — what Cicely, Alaska, might be like, if it were in South Texas. Or Lake Woebegon, if the author was fond of and respected the people written about. Luna City is completely mythical, of course … but the characters and situations are based on real events, and some real people, whose identities … well, never mind. The Chronicles are enlivened by chapter-head illustrations derived from photographs I have taken, and it may amuse people to try and deduce where those buildings are really located. Both Sunset and Steel Rails, and Chronicles of Luna City are available in Kindle and Nook ebook forms, as well as in print, although the print version of Luna City may not post to Amazon and Barnes & Noble until next week, and the ‘look inside’ feature has not yet been activated.

18. October 2015 · Comments Off on Herbal Disappointment · Categories: Domestic

I had it in mind this weekend to go out to a local event that I was always very fond of, especially when I was trekking out to the Medical Center area every Saturday for a shift at San Antonio’s public radio station. (Yeah, they got a new manager some years ago, and fired all the local part-timers – but eh … at the time I was getting rather tired of being locked into a schedule which pretty much put a kibosh on doing anything much on a Saturday … and anyway. Never mind. Old story.)
The local event that I was fond of was a fall herb market, held under the oak trees and in the pavilion at Aggie Park, at West and 410. Loved it, once I discovered it almost accidentally – and budgeted money to spend at it, for there were venders galore; local farms selling a dazzling array of potted herbs – in every format from seeds, through 2-inch pots, to arrangements in bigger pots, to small trees. I got the bay tree which adorns the front yard (and is about twenty feet tall now) at the herb market, when it was a mere tadpole of a bay sprout in a very small pot, also the indestructible Key lime sapling in a 2-gallon pot which was carefully inserted into the back of the VEV with the aid of one of the volunteers detailed to assist shoppers – hey, that sucker has thorns ALL OVER IT! I set aside money in the household budget to pay for indulging myself at the Herb Fair, usually counted on blowing at least $25, sometimes more if circumstances permitted.

One of the historic buildings at the Pearl

One of the historic buildings at the Pearl

There were a multiplicity of venders at Aggie Park then, with live potted seedling-plants of just about everything herbal and legal you could grow in a garden in Texas at very reasonable prices, plus dozens more selling stuff made from those herbs; soaps, and potpourri, candles and room-spray, and at least one vendor selling wrought-iron baskets, garden ornaments and stands.
And a few years ago, they moved the venue to the grounds of the Pearl Brewery, where it happened in conjunction with the weekly farmer’s market. Well, OK then – the lawns and shade under the oak trees at Aggie Park, swapped for a bare parking lot in front of the Whole Goods building. Many of the same familiar vendors appeared in the new venue … so when I heard an announcement that the Herb Market was this weekend, I had no expectation of much having changed on schlepping down to the Pearl complex, looking for a wide array of small pots of herbs, just the sort to cherish over the next expected winter.
But it had. It’s nice that the Pearl complex has thrived, extended, and there are even more tall apartment buildings going up. My ranch real estate friend tipped me the word a couple of years ago that
Dogs and diners in the park at the Pearl

Dogs and diners in the park at the Pearl

the development around the Pearl and the Museum Reach of the Riverwalk was a gamble at least as much as a labor of love … and apparently it is paying off. It’s a very pleasant urban space; pedestrian streets and squares, a salting of historic brewery buildings with the very modern; all kinds of upscale shops on the ground floor with apartments and lofts on the upper. It’s all very European – and on Saturdays when the farmers’ market is in full swing, very crowded. There is a campus of the Culinary Institute of America in one of the buildings, and some other coffee shops, and small restaurants, and it looked like a lot of the booths at the market were providing food. Quite a few people were eating at tables and benches in various park-like squares; lots of children in strollers and dogs on leashes … we took Nemo with us, and he being the friendly little terrier-mutt that he is – he had a grand and exhausting time, meeting new dog friends.

But as for vendors of herbs and garden stuff … there was almost nothing; if I hadn’t known about the event, I would have just thought it was just part of the regular farmer’s market. There was only one vendor that had a selection of herbs in 2-inch pots that interested me, and they didn’t process credit cards. So disappointing, as I would have spent twenty or thirty bucks at least. Compared to previous years – especially when still at Aggie Park – it was a pitiful showing. I wound up not buying anything at all, except a pound of fresh mushrooms from one of the regular vendors. We wondered if perhaps the table fees for vendors had increased to the point where it wasn’t worth the trouble. Perhaps the drought a couple of years ago which caused the closing of the local Antique Rose Emporium outlet affected other plant nurseries as well.

10. September 2015 · Comments Off on Home Stretch · Categories: Book Event, Domestic, Uncategorized

Well … a deep subject as the old gag goes. I spent much of my working day yesterday polishing off the next-to-last chapter of Sunset and Steel Rails; just one more chapter, to deal with an emotional climax in the life of the heroine – just as the Galveston Hurricane of 1900 is putting the whole place under water. This has me reading and rereading accounts of the hurricane itself, and teasing out certain details. I sat out a typhoon once, in Misawa in the late 1970s, and one of the things that I remembered most vividly was how very powerful the storm winds were, and how exhausting it was to try and walk against them, even when slacked off to about 75MPH, when we were all permitted to leave quarters. Misawa – about ten miles inland, was maybe a foot above sea level on the main part of the base, so … the authorities paid attention to disastrous possibilities.

Eh – the book will likely top out at about 300 pages, once the editing and the review by the Alpha reader is finished, but I hope to have it done and ready for launch this coming holiday season. This is the book about a proper young Bostonian who comes west as a Harvey Girl, marries Magda Becker’s scapegrace and apparently-confirmed bachelor brother Fredi, and discovers belatedly that a) he is much better husband materiel than previously assumed and b) she is more closely related to the extended Becker-Vining clan than she thought at first. Her motivation for a sudden career change and departure to the Far West is due to the machinations of her sociopathic older brother … but enough of that. Dramatic possibilities galore and just leave it at that.

The rest of the afternoon was given over to printing up flyers on nice expensive heavy paper for this week’s first Book Event of the Season. Likely I have killed much of the printer ink in the color and black cartridges by this exercise … but, the Giddings Word Wrangler event is one that I am thrilled to be a part of, since it was by application and invitation, and it is in association with a library … ah, libraries. When I was a kidlet and a young adult, I practically lived in libraries. Now I also live in a library, but it is an ordinary house with a lot of books stuffed in it. Yes, the last time I moved from overseas, the guys packing the household goods had a bet going, on how many boxes of books there would be. IIRC, it topped out at 63, and that was in 1990, so one can only imagine how many more there are now.

There is also stuff to do with the Tiny Publishing Bidness – other people’s books besides my own. Wrapped up a book for a regular client, have a big meet scheduled to maybe wrap up another one, some potential new client books to spec out … yeah, the days are full. And then there is the semi-regular brush and tree-trimming collection in my neighborhood. Blondie and I spent several days with a pruning saw and dragging branches from small trees out to what is now a substantial pile in front. As it is still eye-bleedingly hot in this part of Texas, this constituted a perfectly exhausting effort on our part.

Finally, our Pullet Surprise; yes, the backyard chickens – still no eggs yet, although the three of them are supposedly closing in on maturity, and ever-more-close-to delivering on the promise of eggs, which is why we started down this line of back-yard farming in May. It seems, alas, that the science of sexing juvenile chickens was not all that advanced at the poultry farm where we purchased the girls. The biggest of the three so-called pullets – which we had previously assumed was just older and more developed – is a rooster. We’ve both gone and compared pictures of mature Barred Rock roosters with our chicken critter … Yep; we can’t escape science. Got spurs developing, longer tail-feathers, impressively dark red crest and magnificent jowls, and a bigger and more impressive set of neck-feathers. Not good in one way – we wanted eggs, dammit, but good in another. The other two girls will be protected against hawks, feral cats and other chicken-slaughtering wildlife, and if we do want to start chicken-raising in a mild way; well, here is the raw materiel. Larry, Maureen and Carly – welcome to our (slightly adjusted) enterprise.

We rather like the chickens, BTW. Maureen is entirely agreeable to being picked up, and having her chin scratched, Carly is not quite so cooperative, and neither is Larry – but he does like having his chin rubbed, too. And that was my week ….