Dallas highlights

Let's see...  there was the big state fair, with the big-ass ferris wheel...

...and a big butter sculpture...

...and big helpings of fried okra...

...and a big scary talking cowboy statue...

...and big dances.

Then there was the Crow Collection of Asian Art.  Also big.

Big steaks and big plates of barbecue.

Yes, that's more fried okra.  Shut up.

Big jewelry.

Mostly big crosses.

Dealey Plaza, of course.  And the Sixth Floor Museum.

Helpful signage

Big conspiracy theories.

Colleague #2 spent quite a bit of time discussing the LBJ-was-behind-it one
with this guy who's written all about it.

Big buildings and big sky.

There were several big keynote speakers at the conference (I actually did cram in five days of work-related stuff).

That Temple Grandin, she hangs out with some pretty cool people.

I'm just sayin'.

 Oh, and there were some big baseball games going on, too. 

Now I am home, and this is what's happening this late October morning:

And so it begins.

Everything else here in Maine might be on a smaller scale, but we sure do know how to throw a big winter.

Superstitious bunk

I'm sitting in my hotel room on the 14th floor of the Sheraton in downtown Dallas. 

Except that I'm really on the 13th floor. 

What's up with that?  Why, in this enlightened age, do major high-end hotel chains insist on pretending the 13th floor doesn't exist?  Are we who are lodged here less likely to encounter bad luck simply because we're calling it the 14th floor?  Do they think we are idiots?

I want to write something very profound about this, but I have to go network in a minute, which requires lip gloss, a perma-grin and the ability to get middle-aged men to talk about themselves.  (Not difficult.)

Colleague #2 update:  This many manufacturing professionals in one place has almost certainly attracted the attention of al Qaeda.  Be vigilant.

Dallas, Day 1

So I'm here in Don't Tread On Me territory, with two colleagues, for a manufacturing conference. 

• Colleague #1:  Wow, is that a protest?
• Me:  Cool, it’s the Occupy movement! 
• Colleague #2:  Can’t be.  Those people in front are carrying American flags.
• Colleague #1:  I think I heard about this somewhere…  What’s it about, again?
• Me:  Kind of general fed-upness with corporate greed, joblessness, income inequality and the disappearing middle class…
• Colleague #2:  Yeah, they don’t really know themselves what it’s about.  All kinds of people just showing up.
• Me:  Yeah, even people who carry American flags and love their country.
• Colleague #2:  Well, I just think they should put some time in before they’re entitled to do that.
• Me:  But even the military’s not hiring now.
• Colleague #2:  I know, but those idiots don't have any idea what they're talking about.  Do you really think taxing the rich is a good idea? 

Isn't this brilliant?  First, you equate patriotism with capitalism so you can say that anyone who is anti-business is anti-American.  Once you have claimed this moral and economic high ground, you maintain that anyone else trying to stake it out is a misguided, directionless idiot.   And when the idiots reach critical mass and actually present a factual, coherent, reasoned argument against your oversimplified sound-bite opinions, you change the subject and throw in a little ad hominem attack. 

I'm in Texas.

At a manufacturing conference.

Going deep undercover for the next week.

Over and out.

Repurposing Leftovers: Winter Squash with Pork Stuffing

Here's what I've got:  Leftover grilled pork chops.  Onions, garlic, and two biggish delicata squashes from Farmer Tom.  A few ounces of goat cheese, a bunch of celery, and half a loaf of sturdy (but stale) bread.  An herb garden nipped last week by frost, but with most of the hardier plants soldiering on.

Winter Squash with Pork Stuffing

2 winter squashes, halved, seeds scooped out
1 stalk celery, diced
1 small yellow onion, diced
2 garlic cloves, minced
2 tablespoons butter
1/2 lb stale bread, cubed, dried in the oven (about 4 cups)
1 1/2 cup cooked pork, finely minced
4 teaspoons minced fresh herbs (parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme - got that song stuck in your head now?)
2 eggs
1/2 cup chicken stock (or more)
4 oz goat cheese
Salt & pepper
4 tablespoons butter, melted

Place squash in an ungreased baking dish, cut side down, with half an inch of water; cover with foil and bake at 350 for about 45 minutes or until just starting to get tender.

Meanwhile, cook the celery, onion and garlic in 2 tablespoons butter until tender.  Combine with the bread cubes, pork, herbs, eggs, and enough chicken stock to moisten.  Stir in goat cheese and season to taste.

Remove squash from oven, turn over, and stuff with bread mixture.  Brush with 4 tablespoons melted butter.  Return to oven, covered with foil, for 30 minutes.  Remove foil for 5-10 minutes to brown the tops; serve.

Serves 4.

Recipe: Cracked Wheat Bread

When my mother was first diagnosed, she hurled herself headlong into a quasi-macrobiotic diet and promptly started losing weight.  The rest of us started pushing back on the diet idea after a particularly unfortunate bok choi smoothie incident (as her oncologist, the incomparable Dr. Kwok-Kin Wong, put it, "I'm Asian and even I won't eat that stuff.").

That was when I got serious about whole-grain breads, beyond the occasional whimsical effort; working out how to pack the maximum nutrition into the most appetizing slice possible.  I'm still tinkering.  This effort turned out particularly well.

Cracked Wheat Bread

3 cups boiling water
2/3 cups bulghur wheat
1/2 cup rolled oats
1/4 cup flax meal
1/4 cup wheat germ
1/2 cup honey
1/2 cup butter
1/3 cup dry milk
2 packages active dry yeast
2 cups whole wheat flour
4 cups all-purpose flour
6 teaspoons King Arthur Flour whole grain bread improver
2 teaspoons salt
1 egg, beaten with 1 tablespoon water
Seeds or oats for top of loaves

In the bowl of a KitchenAid mixer, combine the first eight ingredients.  Allow to cool to non-yeast-killing temperature, then stir in the yeast and proof for five minutes or so.  Add the whole wheat flour, all-purpose flour, and salt.  Stir to combine, then loosely cover the bowl and allow to rest for half an hour.

With the dough hook, knead for 5-10 minutes.  The dough will remain very wet and sticky.  Place dough in a greased bowl, turning once, then cover and let rise until doubled.  Punch down and divide in half; shape each half into a loaf and place in a greased 9x5" loaf pan.  Cover and let rise again until the dough is about 1" over the rim of the pans.  Heat oven to 375.

Brush top of loaves with egg mixture and sprinkle with seeds or oats.  Bake 35-40 minutes, checking after the first 20 minutes - cover with foil if the loaves are getting too brown.

Remove from pans and cool on a rack.

Yield:  2 loaves

Things I Have Inherited from my Mother

Okay, hang onto your brain.

My mother's mother's mother's mother was widowed young, and to support her little daughter she went to work as a housekeeper for a family of uptight Baptist salt marsh farmers and sometime mariners, most of whom were named Zebulon.

If one were ghostwriting the biblical begats, it would go something like this:

And it came to pass that Benjamin Lufkin didst upon Abigail beget Zebulon in 1722; and Zebulon lay with Sarah, and begat Zebulon II in 1745, who was espoused to Martha; and they begat Zebulon III, who with Betsy begat Zebulon IV.  And Zebulon IV, together with his wife Mary, did beget Zebulon V and Frank (along with three other sons).  Zebulon V took to Sarah to wed, and in 1875 and 1879 they begat Will and Clif, respectively.

From at least Zeb IV on down they all lived right in the house where my grandmother is living now, the house where her young, attractive, widowed grandmother went to work as a housekeeper to that family of bachelor Baptists.  Given the choice between young Will and his equally amorous (for a Baptist) Uncle Frank, my great-great-grandmother plumped for Will.  They got married in 1901 and everyone lived happily ever after.

Now, around the turn of the century there wasn't much for teetotaling young Baptist men to do of an evening except sit around and doodle with fountain pens.  At some point Will drew a portrait of Clif.  Or maybe Clif drew one of Will.  Or maybe it's someone else entirely.  I should ask my grandmother.

Whoever it is, it meant enough that someone put it in a heavy oak and gilt frame, and Clif kept it in his house (which he built next door to Will's) for the rest of his life.  Clif's house passed to my mother, who shoved this drawing in a shed for forty years.

Here's a closeup of the subject.

If it's a picture of Will, it's the only one I've ever seen with a hint of a smile, so maybe it is Clif after all.

My step-second-great-grand-uncle.

It will be kind of a fun addition to the gallery of ancestors I have in my stairwell, but that frame has got to go.

Bonus inheritance: this hand-made bucket.

With the initials "ZL" carved in the lid.

Those intrepid Zebulons...

Shameless Plug and a Recipe: Easiest Applesauce

We went apple-picking in the rain last weekend at Hope Orchards, an orchard down the road a piece with just the nicest people and the loveliest trees and a sweet old farmstand dog.  We came away with two huge pumpkins, a gallon of freshly-pressed cider, and about a bushel of McCouns and Empires with a few Cortlands and Macs thrown in for good measure.  Much baking has ensued, but the kids' favorite is applesauce.

Yes, we own one of those apple peeler and corer devices, it's marvelous, thank you - but for applesauce, I  leave the skins on (for that pink tinge); and why bother to core, when one's KitchenAid has a strainer attachment?  How did humanity survive before KitchenAids?

Easiest Applesauce

Quarter (or cut in eighths, depending on size) enough apples to fill your stockpot.  Add an inch or so of water.  Bring to a simmer and cook, covered, stirring and turning the apples until they are uniformly tender.  Allow to cool to handling temperature, then scoop the apples into the hopper of the KitchenAid and run 'em through.

Return the pulp to the pot and simmer uncovered until it reaches your desired consistency.  Taste, then add sugar (how much depends on your volume and the variety of apple you're dealing with; start with 1/2 cup and go up from there) and, if you like, a shot of cinnamon with just a whisper of nutmeg and cloves.

This freezes and cans well.