Here we see a 5′ 8″ tall woman demonstrate how large the new General Electric washing machines are by climbing inside.
Here we see a 5′ 8″ tall woman demonstrate how large the new General Electric washing machines are by climbing inside.
You can listen here: Barbeque
After listening to the results of this project for several weeks, I knew I could do three minutes, too. Certainly not on world peace or the search for meaning in an increasingly distracted world or anything as grave and serious as all that, but on a belief just as true.
I believe in barbecue. As soul food and comfort food and health food, as a cuisine of both solace and celebration. When I’m feeling good, I want barbecue. And when I’m feeling bad, I just want barbecue more. I believe in barbecue in all its regional derivations, in its ethnic translations, in forms that range from white-tablecloth presentations of cunningly sauced costillas, to Chinese take-out spareribs that stain your fingers red, to the most authentic product of the tarpaper rib shacks of the Deep South. I believe that like sunshine and great sex, no day is bad that has barbecue in it.
I believe in the art of generations of pit men working in relative obscurity to keep alive the craft of slow smoking as it’s been practiced for as long as there’s been fire. A barbecue cook must have an intimate understanding of his work: the physics of fire and convection, the hard science of meat and heat and smoke — and then forget it all to achieve a sort of gut-level, Zen instinct for the process.
I believe that barbecue drives culture, not the other way around. Some of the first blows struck for equality and civil rights in the Deep South were made not in the courtrooms or schools or on buses, but in the barbecue shacks. There were dining rooms, backyards and roadhouse juke joints in the South that were integrated long before any other public places.
I believe that good barbecue requires no decor, and that the best barbecue exists despite its trappings. Paper plates are okay in a barbecue joint. And paper napkins. And plastic silverware. And I believe that any place with a menu longer than can fit on a single page — or better yet, just a chalkboard — is coming dangerously close to putting on airs.
I believe that good barbecue needs sides the way good blues need rhythm, and that there is only one rule: Serve whatever you like, but whatever you serve, make it fresh. Have someone’s mama in the back doing the “taters” and hush puppies and sweet tea, because Mama will know what she’s doing — or at least know better than some assembly-line worker bagging up powdered mashed potatoes by the ton.
I believe that proper barbecue ought to come in significant portions. Skinny people can eat barbecue, and do, but the kitchen should cook for a fat man who hasn’t eaten since breakfast. My leftovers should last for days.
I believe that if you don’t get sauce under your nails when you’re eating, you’re doing it wrong. I believe that if you don’t ruin your shirt, you’re not trying hard enough.
I believe — I know — there is no such thing as too much barbecue. Good, bad or in-between, old-fashioned pit-smoked or high-tech and modern; it doesn’t matter. Existing without gimmickry, without the infernal swindles and capering of so much of contemporary cuisine, barbecue is truth; it is history and home, and the only thing I don’t believe is that I’ll ever get enough.
Thanks go to Bruce from TVWBB for bringing it to attention.
We had a great dinner the other night. Heck, it was perfect. You have to understand I grilled for myself, my newly vegetarian wife, and a very picky 6 yr old. The baby had baby food so I didn’t cook for him. Duh…
Thanks to a couple of threads at TVWBB, I was craving burgers, beans and chips. I had to make things happen just right to make everyone happy.
Here’s what I did:
For myself and our daughter I made burgers. I took 1 1/2lbs of 80/20 and combined with about 3 tbls McCormick Hamburger Seasoning, one beaten egg, about 1/4C very finely diced sweet onion so our daughter wouldn’t notice them, 2 tsp store bought minced garlic and combined. Don’t over-work it or you’ll end up with mush.
I made 4 patties, 3 big ones for big daddy and 1 small one for our daughter, reserving the rest for spaghetti tomorrow night. I also pushed the center 2/3’s of the burger in so that as the burger rises it will be flat when done.
For my wife I took one portabello, removed the gills with a spoon, lightly wiped it clean with a damp paper towel, let dry, then brushed it off. About 15 minutes prior to grilling I coated it in zesty Italian dressing for a marinade. Don’t marinade portabellos very long, they can’t handle it because they soak up so much and get mushy nasty.
The beans I made were the best I’ve ever made. I started with regular, large can of Bush’s Baked Beans in a pot on low. While that was warming up, in another pan I put about 1/4C of diced sweet onion, 1 Tbls oil and slowly cooked until almost translucent. I then added 2 tsp of the same garlic I used above and let heat for a couple of more minutes. I then added about 1/4C ketchup, a generous handful of brown sugar and some of the hamburger seasoning. After thickening I stirred the sauce into the slow simmering beans.
I let the beans simmer for a long time. I didn’t want them runny, I wanted them thick. About 1 1/2hrs on a small burner, stirring about every 10 minutes. They were good and thick.
I preheated the grill to about 500*, brushed it clean and oiled the grates. On went the burgers, ‘shroom and a lollipop onion for the wife.
I cooked the ‘shroom gill side up, then turned it at the same time I flipped the burgers. I pulled the ‘shroom shortly thereafter and put it in the house to cool a bit.
After flipping the burgers I moved them to the cool side, added sliced sharp cheddar to melt, and started toasting the kaiser rolls. Within a couple of minutes everything was pulled from the grill.
I dressed my burgers with lettuce, mayo, tomato, and ketchup. I could only eat two.
The wife’s “burger” was ‘shroom, lettuce, tomato, mayo, grilled onion, ketchup and mustard. Next time we’ll put some cucumbers on it.
Our daughter had ketchup and mayo on hers. She swore I put onions on it, but I didn’t. They were in it…..
The beans were so good I’m going to make them this weekend when I smoke some Baby Backs for football on Sunday.
Next time you make some burgers give this recipe a try. They really were the best burgers yet.
We went to the Hunt Club Farm Halloween Festival in Virginia Beach tonight and had a great time.
Our mission was to get some pumpkins and take a few pics of the kids having fun. We got part of that accomplished.
After parking I grabbed the stroller, we loaded the baby in and all 4 of us headed out. Then we hit the gravel and I quickly realized we should have brought the Dreamer Design stroller my mom gave us, not the mall cruiser. The mall cruiser just doesn’t cut it in gravel and I knew we’d be loading some pumpkins in it, too. I’m not very pleased with myself for bringing the wrong stroller.
We made it to the pumpkin patch, which is absolutely huge, and started poking around for the perfect pumpkins. The biggest for me, next for mommy, and on down the line. After gathering the four I made the mistake of turning my back on my wife and daughter. By the time I turned around there were 3 more pumpkins in front of me. For the girl’s dolls, of course.
Let’s get some pictures! After just a few pics around the pumpkin patch the damn batteries died. I was ticked off, but boy-oh-boy was the wife pissed. The children looked so adorable. I really should remember to charge the batteries more often. Opportunity lost.
Well, mission mostly accomplished so it’s time to leave… almost. The 6 yr old spotted the ferris wheel when we first arrived and hadn’t forgotten about it.
That’s fine, I’ll jump on the scary, traveling Ferris wheel to make her happy. It was fun and the two of us had a blast waving at mom and brother. Time to go.
Not so fast, cowboy, she and the wife want to ride the scary, traveling slide. That’s fine, I hold the boy, they ride the slide. I’ll tell you what, that looked really fun.
Time to go… Almost. The little fast roller coaster thingy that all kids love because it’s fast, low and fun was nearby. Yep, daughter and I rode it. We kept waving at mommy and brother, but brother was too busy staring at the lights of another ride. Mommy saw us, though. Daughter and I were laughing and waving and having a blast the whole time we were on the dangerous little thing.
Quite possibly the moments that brought out the most laughter from my wife, was her watching me squeeze my 6’4″, 235lb body in and out of that kiddy ride. Holy crap that was snug! I nearly had to lay down across the seat to swing my legs out from under the safety bar. I was wedged in there so tight I should have had a can of Crisco smeared all over me and the Jaws of Life yanking the machine apart.
Finally, we actually do leave. Me pushing the baby, pumpkin filled, mall cruiser while the wife and daughter have a great time hoping around because they had so much fun.
It was a fantastic evening. All us kids had a blast.
We didn’t do the Haunted Hayride of course, but I’ve done it in the past and it’s well worth it. But leave the kids with a sitter.
Always fun, so head on out there before it’s over.
We have a lot of planting beds around the house and throughout the yard that require constant attention. Frankly, If I had my way it’d be all grass, but the plants look very nice and make the house look beautiful and my wife loves them.
The problem is when it rains the water washes the mulch away. In the front I lined the walk with large river rock to direct the water from the gutters down the walk and keep the mulch in place. It works and looks great.
Well here’s why I feel a bit feminine today. My wife has taken it upon herself to line most of the beds that meet with walks with more river rock. It looks great, especially along the driveway in front, but….
I just realized I’m in the house cleaning the damn kitchen and watching the kids while she’s out there moving rock! WTF?!?! Man-dignity removed….
I couldn’t let that go so as soon as I got the baby to sleep I ran to the garage, grabbed my drill, a couple of bits, and some screws so I could mount a piece of art to the brick on the back of the house. Machismo restored. Dignity intact. I’m a man, M-A-N…
Now you know it just couldn’t go that smoothly.
The drill died. Yep, my grip on my man machine went limp right in the middle of putting the screw to it. And right in front of my wife just to add insult to injury. My tool wouldn’t work. My tool couldn’t screw. My tool wouldn’t drill.
I was left standing there dumbfounded with my limp drill in one hand, a screw in the other, and my wife carrying another load of rocks. Damn.
So here I am pounding on the computer waiting for my man machine to recharge so I can get to screwing and drilling again while my wife keep moving rocks. I swear….
Tonight is Guy’s Night here at the house. A bunch of my friends and I get together most Saturday nights to play poker in our guest house.
We’ve got a nice core group of guys that have been playing together for about 6 years. Most of us socialize together in other ways, too. Our billiard team has guys on it that have been together for 10 years or longer. Others play kickball or bowl together. Wow, I just realized we really sound like a bunch of dorks!
We’ve lost just one player, he’s at peace now. And then we’ve got new guys coming around that really helps keep the game fresh.
Like most games we started out real cheap and have steadily moved up the price. I think we started .25-.50 straight across the board, but that’s changed a lot. Now it’ $1-2 with some twists. Hold ’em is pot limit, 7 Stud is $5 on the end, Omaha Hi is $10 anytime, Omaha Hi-Lo we call “85” meaning it’s an 8 low with a $5 bet anytime, and I think that’s it for the strange bets.
We don’t play strange games and never, ever have wild cards. Basically casino games, with a somewhat different betting structure on a few games.
We’ve had some real characters come over a few times. One guy always showed up drunk. Don’t get me wrong, there’s plenty of drinking going on, but we don’t show up drunk. This guy was intent on giving us all his money and I must say he succeeded.
Another guy was a professional dealer. I hated the way he shuffled. As a rule, after the game I would always sort the cards, box them up and put them away to be donated. We never used the same deck twice preferring to pop the seal on a new deck for each game. One night after everyone left I sorted the cards and sure enough I was missing the A-5 Spades. He wasn’t invited back.
We don’t do the new deck thing anymore either. My lovely wife picked me up two sets of KEM cards last year and they’re great. We play with real chips and a $100 buy-in is typical, but should probably be more.
The house, me, doesn’t take a rake or anything, it’s just for fun and they’re my friends, but I don’t mix the drinks. I guess that’s what it costs them, pouring my shots. If someone has too much to drink they’re ok because there’s a bed in the bedroom and futon in the den out there.
I think the worst role to play is banker. That’s me too. Errors made are never in my favor. I swear I’ve been the banker at every game I’ve hosted and the overages have accounted to less than $5 total. Shortages have happened and it’ s always my fault. I may have given out too many chips on a re-buy, or miscounted cashing someone out. Sometimes it’s caught, sometime it’s not.
Tonight will be full of fun, laughter and many, many tense moments as decisions are contemplated, mistakes made, and wins and losses add up.
I’m looking forward to tonight, but when we all sit down I’ll miss Steve sitting in his usual seat directly across the table from me.
As they say, “Shuffle up and deal.”
Wow, just one week and my son will be 8 months old. My friends told me that time with your own children flys by. I didn’t believe them, but they were right.
At around 30 yrs old I figured I wouldn’t have any children. I was busy with work and being a single guy, so children really didn’t matter to me. It was no big deal.
About 5 1/2 years ago I met my wife and things changed. I warmed up to the idea of having a child and eventually we decided to go for it. It didn’t take long for the little man to arrive.
I’ve never been so happy and so proud in my life.
My wife says the little guy was “polite” because he was only 6 lbs 14 oz. LOL! He quickly turned that around. At 5 mo’s he’d reached 24 lbs. Today he’s wearing 24 mo cloths!
I imagine he’ll grow like me, unable to crawl, more like a worm, and then he’ll start walking. I think we’re starting to see some of that. He wiggles all over, doesn’t crawl, but stands holding onto things pretty well. The day he pulls himself up will be a watershed event, and one that’s not going to make my wife happy. He’s her last baby.
His personality is starting to show bit-by-bit. He loves NASCAR. OK, he loves all cars. It’s hilarious. As soon as he hears the sounds of engines his head will spin around to see where it’s coming from. It doesn’t matter if it’s on the street or on the TV, he’s checking it out.
He also loves FOX News. Well, I’ll be honest, he loves all the women on Fox, especially Megan Kelley. She’s his favorite. That little bacon boy will stare at her all day if we let him. Ummm, that’s not like me. No. Not at all. Megan Kelley isn’t attractive. Not at all….. Honest….
Oh yeah, as I mentioned on a prior day, it seems he takes after his dad in the methane department. Maybe I shouldn’t admit that… but he can be stinky.
I love watching him reach for stuff and discover new things. His favorite toys are anything daddy likes. The phone, the remote, computer, daddy’s water, daddy’s food. It doesn’t matter. He wants it.
Is it obvious he’s a daddy’s boy? I’m a proud and lucky papa!