Growing up as a kid in Australia my family always had a grill (or “barbie” as we called it), and we used it often. Cooking on the barbie was a central part of my gastronomical experience in my formative years. Even a two-year jaunt to Malaysia involved regular grilled meals peppered amongst the other more adventurous explorations into that culture’s gastronomy.
Growing up as a kid I also learnt that asparagus was one of the nastiest vegetables on this planet. Of course, with the benefit of hindsight, I realize that I had only ever been exposed to canned asparagus: that pale, mushy, tasteless, almost criminal, incarnation of a vegetable that I did not even understand could be purchased fresh until I was much older.
When I had the opportunity to combine these two elements from my childhood, I approached it with a sense of intrigue and trepidation. I had never had fresh asparagus and had only my horrible experiences of the canned stuff to use as a reference point.
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Let me cut to the chase and say that asparagus grilled on the barbie is one of the few foods of the gods. I am not exaggerating folks. If you have not tried it, put down the mouse, step away from the keyboard, and go and try it now.
No, seriously.
Now!
For those needing a little holding of the hands:
Get a bunch of asparagus. Cut off the thick end so that the stalks are fairly even along their lengths (don’t cry for the loss – the base tends to be woody in texture and tastes much the same). Put the trimmed asparagus in a large Ziploc bag and add some canola oil, salt, and pepper. Mush the bag around so that the seasonings spread around (I like to do my own little improvised dance while I am doing this), and then let it sit until you have got the barbie ready. Then place the stalks out on the barbie until they are lightly seared. Pay close attention to the flowery heads as these tend to cook much quicker than the rest of the asparagus. Take them off and served immediately as is. Enjoy.
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If you ever want to win me over, I highly recommend giving me grilled asparagus. I will be putty in your hands!
When I was a kid watching westerns on TV I learned about beef jerky. I thought the idea of dried meat sounded cool and I wanted to try some. It wasn’t until I was a young adult that I got my chance.
The gas station next to my bus stop, which would take me to my university, sold beef jerky.
It was not the beef jerky that most Americans are familiar with. It wasn’t moist, or thick, or anything really resembling beef jerky that you typically find here in the states.
It was dried meat. Thin sheets of it. Dry as a bone, and gawd it was so tasty.
When I moved to the states, it was only a matter of time before I would encounter jerky again. I think the first time that I really re-discovered it was when my wife gave me beef jerky she had procured from a World Market in Eugene, OR. After that, we paid several visits to the store and we always came away with an armload of jerky.
It was good.
No, it was really good.
It wasn’t what I had experienced back in Australia.
That doesn’t mean that it was in any way lesser. It just wasn’t the same stuff with which I was introduced to beef jerky, and it seemed like a far cry from the stuff that cowboys would haul around in their saddlebags as the roamed the countryside.
When we got our hands on a smoker, I immediately wanted to try creating my own beef jerky. I wasn’t really focused on what sort of beef jerky I wanted to create. I just wanted to make some.
Over several years of making my own beef jerky, I’ve come up with my own end result. And it leans heavily toward the jerky that I first tried as a young adult in Australia - lean, very dry and very tasty.
Here is my steps on how to make jerky:
1. Obtain a big ass slab of meat. Brisket is my choice because its decent, its cheap and its going to go through hell and back before I am ready to eat it.
2. Slice that meat into thin strips, discarding all traces of fat. This is lean, dry beef jerky. Any fat will make your beef jerky more moist and well - look at your stomach - do you really need any extra fat?
3. Marinade your slices of meat in various sauces and such for at least 24 hours. (Sauces? That’s very vague, isn’t it Scott? Yup. And that’s the way I like it. When I make beef jerky, I raid the pantry and the fridge - anything that is sauce or granule-like (for example, don’t add dried herbs that are leafy and will just burn up in the smoking process and cause a bitter taste). If you were to ask me (as many have), what I put into my marinade, I reply that I put in everything but the kitchen sink - but only because the kitchen sink wouldn’t fit.
I let my marinade get into the meat for at least 24 hours. At that point we are ready to start making jerky!
Lay the strips out on your smoking rack, smoke the beef jerky with mesquite wood chips (or any other type of wood that you desire), for at least 12 hours. The smoking time will depend on how thick you’ve cut your strips. When the smoking is done, you should have yourself a bunch of ready to eat dried meat.
This particular batch that I made turned out to be very spicy and just a tad hot. I received rave reviews from everyone that tried it, and even a few that dived for the nearest source of water - which made me grin like a Chesire cat. So I ended up calling this batch Scott English’s El Diablo Beef Jerky. I was quite proud of it!
One thing that you should remember to do is wearing gloves when you are handling the beef jerky, especially after it has been marinating in hot sauces and peppers for at 24 hours. If you don’t, you’ll be sorry, and so will every part on your body that you scratch. Of course, after you’ve been handling the beef jerky for a while, your gloved hand will make you look like some sort of mad scientist carving up the latest experiment - but its much better than scratching anywhere around your eyes or other tender body parts.
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I took another look at the “new” project, today (which I called the “looming project” back on The Guts Of Life), and discovered that perhaps my piece of leather is a little more sturdy and my limestone a little more sharper than I first imagined. It is a project that I have worked on before and having completed my end, was waiting for a coworker to complete. That coworker is no longer with the company and so it falls on me to take the job across the finish line. All that I need to do is work out how to get it there. Unfortunately, its new territory for me, but I may be in better shape than I imagined.
Speaking of David & Goliath – which I allude to in describing this project to you – I recently learned (while watching and episode of Globe Trekker), that Michelangelo’s David was actually a representation of David from the David and Goliath tale! I do not feel like a complete dolt about this, thankfully, because this was also news to my intelligent and very knowledgeable wife.
When I got home this evening my wife (whom has hair more beautiful than Josie Lawrence), had prepared delightfully odd little cookies (biscuits, for my Aussie readers) made from slices of sweet potatoes dunked in orange juice and coated in crushed soy nuts, sesame seeds, cinnamon and then baked. You should try them some time.
On the walking front, a slack night last night. 1.72 miles. 1.84 miles this evening. A little disappointing that in my allotted 30 minutes, I could not get it just .01 miles further than Tuesday’s effort. Still no page that I can monitor my progress on (nor that you can sticky beak at), as I have not had the time, but it is on the list.
I have also been a little distracted lately with FarCry. You know, the first person shooter where you are hired by this woman to take her on a sailboat cruise around an island only to get your sailboat shot at by a missile when she goes for a dive (which results in you going for a dive). When you wash up on the island, you discover that it is apparently some base of operations for a mercenary army, but later it transforms into an Island of Dr. Moreau storyline. Now I have just been past the “reveal” in some cordoned off scientific laboratory area where the animal-man-beasts rear their VERY ugly heads and am now working out the extent of WTF is going on.
Yeah yeah, I know it is an old game. I played it when it originally came out, but for some reason I recently dug it up out of storage and started playing it again.
I rounded out the evening with a very fun game of online Spades with Crickie (we won a match, yay!). Mom, we should challenge Geo and Amy to a game next time GMom is not up to playing, and we will show them whom the bosses of the card table really are.
Introducing your boss and a co-worker to the sublime taste of edamame is enjoyable.
The boss had expressed doubts about them before ordering, so I made sure we got some.
Watching the boss first try to determine how they were eaten (they were still in their pods), and then observing her realize that they were actually very good was a pleasure.
The Pad Thai was not too shabby either.
A wonderful light lunch like this Autumn Fruit Salad is yummy:
Takes some slices of oranges and apple and fan them on a bed of lettuce. Sprinkle some toasted pumpkin seeds and quartered figs on top. Finally drizzle a dressing of apple juice, lime juice, mustard and ground fennel on top.
Very tasty!
Thanks for stopping by, and remember: An apple every eight hours will keep three doctors away.
We had dinner this evening with my in-laws, grand mom and stepdaughter at Gloria’s to celebrate my Mother-in-Law’s birthday.
I always enjoy seeing the family, and this evening was no exception.
My wife had spent the day with her mother whom appeared to have had a great time and was quite happy - and was equally thrilled with the end-of-meal “Happy Birthday” song from all the staff at Gloria’s (plus a kiss on the cheek from our waiter I might add 
) and the World Famous Chocolate Flan complete with birthday candle probably didn’t go astray either.
For those of you unfamiliar with Gloria’s, they specialize in Salvadorian food (with secondary Tex-Mex fallback just incase you turn your nose up at the principal offerings).
Being my first real exposure to Salvadorian fare, I opted for the Gloria’s Super Special: a sample platter of their “para empezar” (appetizers), which were perfect for me because I enjoy exploring new flavors when possible.
Including:
- Chicken Tamale: I have certainly had tamales before. This was quite good. I enjoyed that the casing for the chicken was significantly less firm that I have experienced in the past (almost Jell-O-like), and very tasty.
- Cheese Pupusa: Which is a hand-made tortilla stuffed with cheese. I expected not to like this, but it was more tasty than I thought it would be though still a little bland. They have pork as well as pork and cheese variations that I am sure would have much more flavor.
- Fried Yuca: I have never had Yuca before, and it tasted similar to fried potato. Quite good.
- Fried Plantain: Surprisingly, these had much more flavor (and color) than I was expecting. Quite rich and quite tasty.
I had a great time with the new tastes. However, I was most impressed with the samples of outside skirt steak that I got to taste from my mother-in-law’s order (Churrasco Tipico, if I remember correctly). That, dipped in the side of Chimichurri Sauce sent waves of pleasure from my taste buds to my brain.
What a wonderful way to spend an evening, with family, exploring new foods.
Thanks for stopping by and remember: You’re driving a car. It isn’t a telephone booth, a beauty parlor or a restaurant.
On Monday night, Amy hankered for some wings. I have never been a big fan of wings myself. I dislike dark meat, tendons, skin, and bones. I had only had Amy’s homemade wings before and while I loved her sauce, I disliked the vehicle for it. Besides, I find it objectionable to be maiming those poor animals for my (not even) eating pleasure.
It seems like my good friend Crickie is eating them every other day and Amy had recently been raving to me about the wings at Wing Stop since she had started eating them during occasional evening get togethers with a co-worker couple.
Boneless chicken wings (that is, chicken nuggets) are commonplace at wing joints, so I figured I could try some, and Amy would be able to get her wing fix.
Unfortunately, we weren’t so into them that we were willing to actually go out and get them, so we decided to try Wing Street, and have them conveniently delivered. My part of the order was twenty pieces of boneless Buffalo Burnin’ Hot wings. I figured that if I was going to try these wing things, I might as well dive into the deep end of the lava pit.
They were extremely good with an excellent flavor (a sweet fruity habanero middle flavor, followed by delicious cumulative burn to finish off), and quite filling (much more so than bone-in wings). I got through ten wings and consigned the rest to leftovers for dinner the next evening.
On the drive home from work on Tuesday, I was looking forward to my left over wings. Unfortunately our house was embroiled in a black out that evening (see The Dickhead Chevrolet Blazer Of Household Air Conditioning), and had no way of heating up the left over chicken wings.
However, we did not want to be disappointed by an absence of wings in our evening meal, and with the house being unpleasantly absent of electrical power, we decided to go and find the nearest Wing Stop.
My order this time consisted of seven pieces of their boneless Atomic wings (again jumping straight into the deep end). These wings were incredible. They taste very peppery, and their heat level starts at “over the top” and gets even hotter with each successive wing, until you bow down to the pleadings of your mouth, lips, and upper throat.
I got through four.
I was also impressed with the size of these wings: they were more often than not like chicken tenders than nuggets.
They did however F me the hell up the next morning This really, if you are a hot and spicy food fan, you realize is just part of the price you pay when you eat this food. Sort of like a hidden tax. In the morning I woke up and felt a steam train of pain rushing through my lowerins (lower intestines), and I correctly guessed that I would not experience “re-entry” until I was on the way to work.
Luckily, the bathroom of a handy Jack-in-the-Box was unoccupied.
For those of you keeping up with the math, I still had ten Buffalo Burnin’ Hot wings and three (actually turned out to be four) Atomic wings left over.
That is where dinner for Wednesday came in. I still did not make it through them all. However, I refused to leave the house for work on Thursday morning until I knew that it was safe to do so.
Now it is Friday evening, and as I write this, I find myself faced with four Buffalo Burnin’ Hots and two Atomics.
I am digging in with glee.
I highly recommend that you try either Wing Street’s Buffalo Burnin’ Hot wings or Wing Stop’s Atomic wings. Go boneless. They are more filling and the do not leave a poor chicken disabled and unable to provide for its little chicken family.
Now if you will excuse me, I have got to go finish breaking apart my insides.
Thanks for stopping by and remember, its no fun getting screwed while everyone else is getting laid.
My mother-in-law brought over Baby Bellas on Monday night (thank you Mom!). She had had them for a day or so and did not foresee using them in the near future so we got hand me down mushrooms.
However, hand me downs have gotten a bad rap in general, these were great.
My wife sautéed them with oil, garlic, white wine and a bit of black pepper. Some smoked sun-dried tomatoes tossed in and a salad on the side.
Deeeelicious.
With one small problem.
If you are not familiar with the show: basically this guy, Andrew Zimmern, drags a camera crew around to various countries and taste tests the indigenous local favorites. We are not talking Pasta in Italy. We are talking head cheese.
I am innocently sitting on the futon watching TV eating my delicious mushrooms and salad. I think you can see where this is heading…
Mr. Zimmern is in Trinidad trying cow skin soup, chicken foot soup, conch penis (raw no less), and ox heel soup.
My face pales, and I sit there with sautéed mushrooms on the end of my fork. Mushrooms with the texture that I imagine roughly equates to gelatinous cow skin pieces or ox heel. I close my eyes, still my stomach and think of relaxing on a beach in the sun with a nice cool breeze while I finish my delicious mushrooms.
The meal was awesome. The evening’s entertainment attempted to terrorize me into not completing it successfully.
Go chew on a testicle Mr. Zimmern. Just do not make me watch.
Because when you’re sick, there’s nothing that gets you to feeling better
than some good ol’ Cock Soup.
I love the declaration that it is “SPICY”.
Of course, being manufactured in Jamaica, I can imagine a lot of Jamaican guys being paid minimum wages to whip up batch upon batch of Cock soup mix for packaging.
I hear employee satisfaction is at an all time high at that Grace facility.
Kudos to my wife whom discovered and purchased this gem knowing that I would have to share it with you all.
However, don’t hold your breathe waiting for me to tell you what Cock Soup tastes like. I had a look at the nutritional information and its VERY salty!
