When Pigs Fly Part I: America's Smokiest Bacon Goes to Prosciuttoville

A good friend of mine recently moved to Northern Italy, 15 kilometers from the best producers of prosciutto in the world. . .

. . .and he wants some bacon from back home.

Perhaps, when one eats prosciutto all the time, and pancetta, and truffles of every variety, one feels fatigued, no?

Culinary Adventures: Spelt Brioche, Community Garden, and Crabapples

Harold is a good sport.  Especially for a one-year-old.

He serenaded me with his toy piano while I made Brioche.

He strolled with me to check out the Overland Community Garden.

He went with Melanie and I to the secret-location Creve Couer Crabapple tree we pick fruit from every year.  We had some laughs, some new experiences, and a good nap too.

The Brioche:

It proofed beautifully, but Spelt lacks the necessary elasticity to produce a nice round dome on a risen loaf - at least, I've found that to be true.  Part of it is preference.  I'd rather have a tender, moist loaf that's not perfectly shaped than a nicely domed loaf that is too dry in the crumb from too much flour.  Maybe one of you bakers out there has got some knowledge I lack about this phenomenon.

We had some for lunch, along with. . .

Concord grapes!  Harold's first ones.  I was squeezing the soft core into his mouth and holding on to the skin (and for you nervous parents out there, I was selecting only the smallest ones for this - to avoid a choking hazard.)  He'd chew a few times, then smile, and down the hatch they'd go.  As you can see, he was ready for more.

The Overland Community Garden is in its first year, so we went to check it out and see if anyone was there working, since it was such a beautiful day.  It was devoid of gardeners, but you can see they've got a good start.

One plot caught my interest.

Linda has been hard at work.  

I think I see radishes (a lot of 'em,) cauliflower, and collard greens.  But I'm an amateur - what do you see?

Harold liked the ornamental grasses growing on the edge of the lot.

All that walking made us tired, so we rested awhile.

Afterwards, we visited my parents and then walked to the tree, which is so loaded this year I can't believe it.  I would guess a couple hundred pounds of crabapples.  In past years, we've always made jelly, and sometimes tarts.  This year I'm thinking Crabapple Clafoutis for Pomme - Bryan and I tried one three weeks ago but the fruit wasn't ripe.  But now they're ready.  (For such a small fruit they can take a long time to mature.)

For some reason, the sight of the boughs shaking and the fruit falling into the bag was hilarious to Harold.  

All in all, a beautiful day.

Now, in an addendum to our story, I made this discovery on the front porch back at home.  

It has been so long since I've seen a wooly-bear caterpillar, that I wasn't sure if this was one.  Also, is this specimen particularly wooly, or just the usual thread count?  Our friends at Wikipedia lay out the folklore surrounding the woolly-bear and its appearance, but I think this one I found must be a different species.   The body shape is more like an elongated hedgehog than a worm with fur - also, no brown band in the center.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pyrrharctia_isabella

 One thing is certain: this little guy is ready for winter.

If all goes well, I'll have some crabapple jelly put up in the pantry, to spread on brioche on a mid-winter's morn.

The Beer Sheriff and the Dalai Lama

Every few months, a man in a nondescript uniform would walk into our restaurant and pour our Budweiser down the drain.

That was his job.

Now, I'm not a fan of Budweiser particularly.  But as a craftsperson, I have always the brand's ability to maintain a consistent product; millions of bottles of it, every year without fail.  Consistency is one of the hardest disciplines in any industry involving natural goods like barley and hops, which from year to year, field to field, and grower to grower will never be identical in their qualities.

The truly great restaurants of the world, of which there probably aren't more than a hundred, spend big money on the resources, both material and human, to provide a consistently amazing experience for the diner.  In the kitchen, they do it by exerting control over every step of the process, and judging everything all the time, repeatedly.  What does it taste like Now?  That is the question that makes a cook successful.  In the dining room they do it by intelligently responding to whatever happens in the moment.  How are they Now? That is the question that makes a server successful.

Back when A.B. was a locally-owned brewery, they had this idea about the Now of their beer - not only to stamp an expiration date on it, but go out into the world and find out if people are serving the beer past this date.

Our little French restaurant sells far more wine than beer (last night notwithstanding!) and so once the Beer Sheriff paid a couple visits and found we had product on the verge of expiration, he figured we may need checking up on from time to time.  So he used to come by quarterly and ferret out the oldest Bud, pour it down the sink, issue us a credit for the beer, and then have fresh product shipped to us.  This didn't cost us any more than a few minutes of our time and the wholesale price of Budweiser - which let's just say is a good value.

We asked him once if we should send the beer home with employees, and he replied "That would defeat the purpose - which is to keep people from drinking compromised Bud."

Here's where the Dalai Lama comes in.

I heard the Dalai Lama give a public address in St. Paul years ago, and he talked about "the power of Now." The power that comes from being fully engaged in the present.  He said (to paraphrase) that the Now is so powerful, and the nation of China fears it so much, that many Tibetan citizens will live the rest of their lives in prison because of it.  He explained further that although qualities like compassion are built through practice over time, they are only activated in the present moment, whatever and wherever that moment is taking place for you.

From the global machinations of a huge company like A.B, down to the breath you are taking this instant, this elusive energetic movement of time contains enough force to build, shape, and tear down the whole world.

It's a good thought to consider over a fresh beer.

And if you see the Beer Sheriff, send him our way for a visit.  Our Bud is up to date, but I never told him thank you.