Morning earworm: Your Mama Don't Dance, Loggins & Messina. From the show last weekend.
Yesterday ended up being pretty much a bust. Coffee, meds, and lying on the floor provided no relief until mid-afternoon. Did get most of the shopping done, with only a few items remaining to be secured this morning, probably as soon as I finish typing this. Just like my other holiday shopping - a surgical strike; get in early, secure the merch, and get out quickly. Pay no attention to the funny looks one gets from buying beer at 7:30 in the morning.
I had a truly bizarre nightmare last night, of the classic horror movie variety. This doesn't happen often, and leads to much pondering on the whole process. In my dreams, at least, I often find that things which would normally make no sense at all do; mostly in context, as it usually involves a rather long and elaborate backstory, which for some odd reason I know at the time, like a sort of bulk-downloaded footnote. Last night, for example, when the red-hooded figure appeared behind me in the darkened house, it was not merely the startle which caused the panic, but knowing who / what it was, in vivid detail. Definitely a Blair Witch moment, one of those where you lie awake for some time after, contemplating the seeming reality of the incident, and really not wanting to get up and go to the bathroom - one of those rare times when living in so secluded an area isn't quite as idyllic as it normally is.
No matter - a busy day ahead in the kitchen. Today: making more sausage, and various breads. Need to get the cornbread starter going, make at least the dough for the rolls, and probably some pizza crust while I'm at it for tonight. It seems like coming up with something the few days before the big meal is the most difficult part. I was completely at a loss yesterday, contemplating going out for dinner, before inspiration hit and I ended up inventing the Cordon Bleu Chimichanga - leftover chicken breast diced up with some ham and cheese filling, fried in a tortilla. A keeper, surprisingly, for something literally thrown together nearly at random. Sometimes you just get lucky :D
Duration is subjective.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Sausage Shootout
Morning earworm: From the Beginning, Emerson, Lake & Palmer - can't go wrong there.
Awoke this morning with a godawful screaming headache, of unknown origin. It is radiating down the left side of my neck, far enough that I suspect it might be of physical origin, rather than the usual caffeine depletion. I see some time on the mat today.
Yesterday saw an afternoon of kitchen R & D, in my first foray into sausage making. Four small batches were produced, all venison-based. I was surprised to find that most of the venison sausage recipes I have are half pork; I guess it is an easy way to include the requisite fat. Personally, I would be more inclined to just add some fatback, to more precisely monitor the fat : meat ratio - perhaps in the future, once I know what I'm doing.
Our contestants were bratwurst, chorizo, breakfast sausage and a straight venison sausage. A small patty of each was fried up for a sampler along with dinner. The Breakfast sausage was a clear winner, the chorizo a fair second. The brat was, surprisingly, rather lame - I didn't mind it, but my Wisconsin-native wife was unimpressed. The straight venison wasn't bad, but a bit dry, despite my allowing for it being virtually fat-free and cooking it in a bit of extra confit oil.
Today, larger batches for Thursday. I'm thinking of using the breakfast sausage in the cornbread dressing, and probably the chorizo with the turkey. The recipe chosen this year calls for Boudin, but that appears to be impossible to find here, as are several of the ingredients to make it, most notably pork liver. Probably just as well. I hope the throbbing in my skull subsides soon, so I can get out and do the rest of the grocering today - the store is to be avoided at all costs tomorrow, being Black Wednesday.
We all know about Black Friday, the day after Thanksgiving when all of the retail outlets are turned into a war zone by rabid, bloodthirsty consumers whipped into a feeding frenzy by the commercials. What I have found out is that on the Wednesday before, they do a live-fire practice run in the grocery stores, testing their battle readiness by clearing the shelves, prepared to fight to the death over that last can of pumpkin or fried onions. It is the ideal place not to be.
Honour the role.
Respect the person.
Awoke this morning with a godawful screaming headache, of unknown origin. It is radiating down the left side of my neck, far enough that I suspect it might be of physical origin, rather than the usual caffeine depletion. I see some time on the mat today.
Yesterday saw an afternoon of kitchen R & D, in my first foray into sausage making. Four small batches were produced, all venison-based. I was surprised to find that most of the venison sausage recipes I have are half pork; I guess it is an easy way to include the requisite fat. Personally, I would be more inclined to just add some fatback, to more precisely monitor the fat : meat ratio - perhaps in the future, once I know what I'm doing.
Our contestants were bratwurst, chorizo, breakfast sausage and a straight venison sausage. A small patty of each was fried up for a sampler along with dinner. The Breakfast sausage was a clear winner, the chorizo a fair second. The brat was, surprisingly, rather lame - I didn't mind it, but my Wisconsin-native wife was unimpressed. The straight venison wasn't bad, but a bit dry, despite my allowing for it being virtually fat-free and cooking it in a bit of extra confit oil.
Today, larger batches for Thursday. I'm thinking of using the breakfast sausage in the cornbread dressing, and probably the chorizo with the turkey. The recipe chosen this year calls for Boudin, but that appears to be impossible to find here, as are several of the ingredients to make it, most notably pork liver. Probably just as well. I hope the throbbing in my skull subsides soon, so I can get out and do the rest of the grocering today - the store is to be avoided at all costs tomorrow, being Black Wednesday.
We all know about Black Friday, the day after Thanksgiving when all of the retail outlets are turned into a war zone by rabid, bloodthirsty consumers whipped into a feeding frenzy by the commercials. What I have found out is that on the Wednesday before, they do a live-fire practice run in the grocery stores, testing their battle readiness by clearing the shelves, prepared to fight to the death over that last can of pumpkin or fried onions. It is the ideal place not to be.
Honour the role.
Respect the person.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Monday Again
Morning earworm: Signify, Porcupine Tree. What a great beginning to the week :D
It was an interesting weekend, to say the least. More fun than profit, much as expected, but even this is an improvement - quite often it is neither. It was cool little room; an actual theater with 120 seats, most of them empty. Nice stage, though, and good acoustics - perhaps a bit too good for our volume, but we managed:
Much of the aforementioned fun occurred before anyone showed up, while I took the opportunity to bang on the house piano for awhile, which ended up as in impromptu jam with the opening act, who also later sat in with us at the end of our set. It is a bit of a shock when you find yourself enjoying playing, and realize that it is an unaccustomed feeling.
So, a new week. Focus on recording, and cleaning up the Bunker a bit - all of the work down there lately has left it a bit disorganized (read trashed). And, of course, some serious kitchen work. Venison currently thawing for some sausage-making experiments; hopefully I can find a keeper in time for the cornbread-sausage dressing on Thursday. Doing a turkey breast this year, just because I have several recipes to try. Also discovered a new technique for mashed potatoes, courtesy of Cooks Country, where they are steamed and rinsed halfway through, rather than boiled; this significantly reduces the amount of starch, which is what makes them turn to wallpaper paste if overworked. Also, running them through a ricer rather than the usual mashing technique yields a much fluffier result. I tried it with the food mill last night, and there was a noticeable improvement, but they still got worked over pretty good, so it looks like I need to break down and get another ricer, having broken the old one a few years back.
Performance is impersonal yet intimate.
It was an interesting weekend, to say the least. More fun than profit, much as expected, but even this is an improvement - quite often it is neither. It was cool little room; an actual theater with 120 seats, most of them empty. Nice stage, though, and good acoustics - perhaps a bit too good for our volume, but we managed:
Much of the aforementioned fun occurred before anyone showed up, while I took the opportunity to bang on the house piano for awhile, which ended up as in impromptu jam with the opening act, who also later sat in with us at the end of our set. It is a bit of a shock when you find yourself enjoying playing, and realize that it is an unaccustomed feeling.
So, a new week. Focus on recording, and cleaning up the Bunker a bit - all of the work down there lately has left it a bit disorganized (read trashed). And, of course, some serious kitchen work. Venison currently thawing for some sausage-making experiments; hopefully I can find a keeper in time for the cornbread-sausage dressing on Thursday. Doing a turkey breast this year, just because I have several recipes to try. Also discovered a new technique for mashed potatoes, courtesy of Cooks Country, where they are steamed and rinsed halfway through, rather than boiled; this significantly reduces the amount of starch, which is what makes them turn to wallpaper paste if overworked. Also, running them through a ricer rather than the usual mashing technique yields a much fluffier result. I tried it with the food mill last night, and there was a noticeable improvement, but they still got worked over pretty good, so it looks like I need to break down and get another ricer, having broken the old one a few years back.
Performance is impersonal yet intimate.
Friday, November 19, 2010
Old School
Morning earworm: First Train Home, Imogen Heap. Was listening to this yesterday while working in the Bunker.
The new rig is up and running, about 99% functional - a bit of programming and a final bug or two to work out today, and it debuts tomorrow night. That contact cleaner is amazing stuff - worth the 60 mile drive to get it - lol. This whole process represents stepping simultaneously forward and back - an upgrade to old school :D In many ways it is casting off option anxiety; my rigs have traditionally been rather elaborate affairs, able to create myriad sounds and effects that I virtually never used. When I got into the current band, I deliberately stripped way down - one guitar, one multi-processor and one amp. This latest incarnation, while technically larger, is actually simpler still; with only a few stomp boxes (individual effects on the floor) and an older muli-processor. It doesn't make every sound under the sun, just a few absolutely killer ones. The tones are so fabbo, it makes me want to play, and that may be the biggest plus of all.
OK, enough with the gear slut talk - lol. In other news, I spent some equally enlightening time in the kitchen the last few days. I had JD leave "my" deer partly intact, to learn some basic butchery on my own. I have a functional working knowledge of the front shoulder now -chuck tender, shoulder roast, and shank meat, most of which is probably going to end up as stew or jerky. Today I get to tackle the south end - rump roast, top and bottom round, etc. Who knows, by next year I might be doing all of the cutting. Let him gut and skin it, and I'll take over from there.
Finally, on a more pleasant food-related note, this month's Saveur produced a quick and easy mustard-cream sauce which goes really well with both steak and venison, and probably anything else you care to slather it on. Heat up 1 Tbsp butter and 1 Tbsp canola oil in a cast iron skillet. Season your steak of choice with salt and pepper, and pan fry to desired doneness. Remove the meat. Deglaze the pan with 4½ Tbsp cognac or brandy, scraping up the yummy bits and cook for about 20 seconds. Remove from the heat. Add ¼ cup heavy cream, and 1½ Tbsp dijon mustard, whisking until the sauce just comes together. Stir in another 1½ Tbsp cognac / brandy, pour over the steaks, and serve. Garnish with pepper and fresh parsley.
Have a great weekend :D
There are three kinds of repercussions: the necessary, the unnecessary and the inevitable.
The new rig is up and running, about 99% functional - a bit of programming and a final bug or two to work out today, and it debuts tomorrow night. That contact cleaner is amazing stuff - worth the 60 mile drive to get it - lol. This whole process represents stepping simultaneously forward and back - an upgrade to old school :D In many ways it is casting off option anxiety; my rigs have traditionally been rather elaborate affairs, able to create myriad sounds and effects that I virtually never used. When I got into the current band, I deliberately stripped way down - one guitar, one multi-processor and one amp. This latest incarnation, while technically larger, is actually simpler still; with only a few stomp boxes (individual effects on the floor) and an older muli-processor. It doesn't make every sound under the sun, just a few absolutely killer ones. The tones are so fabbo, it makes me want to play, and that may be the biggest plus of all.
OK, enough with the gear slut talk - lol. In other news, I spent some equally enlightening time in the kitchen the last few days. I had JD leave "my" deer partly intact, to learn some basic butchery on my own. I have a functional working knowledge of the front shoulder now -chuck tender, shoulder roast, and shank meat, most of which is probably going to end up as stew or jerky. Today I get to tackle the south end - rump roast, top and bottom round, etc. Who knows, by next year I might be doing all of the cutting. Let him gut and skin it, and I'll take over from there.
Finally, on a more pleasant food-related note, this month's Saveur produced a quick and easy mustard-cream sauce which goes really well with both steak and venison, and probably anything else you care to slather it on. Heat up 1 Tbsp butter and 1 Tbsp canola oil in a cast iron skillet. Season your steak of choice with salt and pepper, and pan fry to desired doneness. Remove the meat. Deglaze the pan with 4½ Tbsp cognac or brandy, scraping up the yummy bits and cook for about 20 seconds. Remove from the heat. Add ¼ cup heavy cream, and 1½ Tbsp dijon mustard, whisking until the sauce just comes together. Stir in another 1½ Tbsp cognac / brandy, pour over the steaks, and serve. Garnish with pepper and fresh parsley.
Have a great weekend :D
There are three kinds of repercussions: the necessary, the unnecessary and the inevitable.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Skip Day
Super busy day yesterday - amp maintenance, road trip, field dressing a pair of deer. Today, more of the same - so I'm off to it:)
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Extended Opportunity
Morning earworm: Jazz is the Teacher (Funk is the Preacher), Screaming Headless Torsos. Not sure what dredged this up, but a good morning for it - lol.
It turns out that there will be no rehearsal again this week. While there is a bit of concern for the weekend's show, I am mainly glad for the extra time to work on my own stuff. This makes for a busy day today - there are one or two more avenues to explore with the Frankenstack, before I turn my attention back to writing / recording. One final piece of the gear puzzle stubbornly refuses to play nice with the rest of the pile, and there is no reason I can find for this, beyond possibly its physical placement in the signal chain. Whatever the case, I should get down there and get to it - even with this extra few days, there are practicalities to be addressed as well, so the schedule for the week is going to be a tight one.
The way we describe our world shows how we think of our world. How we think of our world governs how we interpret our world.
How we interpret our world directs how we participate in the world. How we participate in the world shapes the world.
It turns out that there will be no rehearsal again this week. While there is a bit of concern for the weekend's show, I am mainly glad for the extra time to work on my own stuff. This makes for a busy day today - there are one or two more avenues to explore with the Frankenstack, before I turn my attention back to writing / recording. One final piece of the gear puzzle stubbornly refuses to play nice with the rest of the pile, and there is no reason I can find for this, beyond possibly its physical placement in the signal chain. Whatever the case, I should get down there and get to it - even with this extra few days, there are practicalities to be addressed as well, so the schedule for the week is going to be a tight one.
The way we describe our world shows how we think of our world. How we think of our world governs how we interpret our world.
How we interpret our world directs how we participate in the world. How we participate in the world shapes the world.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
When Worlds Collide
Morning earworm: Big Bad Moon, Joe Satriani. One of the most amazing guitarist on the planet, but admittedly not much of a singer - lol.
A day of practical work and experimentation in the Bunker. A number of random and not entirely related cognitive threads came together in the notion that I might want to consider a larger amp system for the occasional larger venue we play, such as this weekend; this in turn led me to an afternoon of playing mix-and-match with various pieces of gear, in the elusive quest for that killer sound, which ended up making quite a mess and reassembling the Frankenstack:
Contemplating this today, I find that I may once again have too many irons in the fire, and the conflict of interest is setting in. After having a couple of weeks to myself, working undisturbed on my own material, band work resumes; I can almost feel the creative fire going out. Part of the above process was admittedly an exercise in finding my sound, my own voice, which tends to get lost when doing a money gig for any length of time. This was further complicated by the unusual direction that the latest creative impulse took - I initially set out with the aim of coming up with some new looped / soundscape material, but the Muse instead chose to serve me up a bunch of group-oriented music instead. I'm certainly not complaining, but there is the small matter of the group needed to execute this material isn't the group I'm working with.
This, briefly, is why my Teacher discourages people from becoming professional musicians - my calling to play is coming into conflict with my other obligations; it is the most bitter of ironies that my job as a musician is actually interfering with my being a musician. And this isn't the first time. Just as I am picking up steam heading down one path, I now have to tear everything down and reset for rehearsal tonight. Most of the time I am able to keep these things compartmentalized, but when everything is firing on all cylinders - which doesn't happen often - it becomes an inconvenience, and a source of mounting frustration. Such is life, though. We bear it and persevere.
Some things protect themselves by being what they are.
A day of practical work and experimentation in the Bunker. A number of random and not entirely related cognitive threads came together in the notion that I might want to consider a larger amp system for the occasional larger venue we play, such as this weekend; this in turn led me to an afternoon of playing mix-and-match with various pieces of gear, in the elusive quest for that killer sound, which ended up making quite a mess and reassembling the Frankenstack:
Contemplating this today, I find that I may once again have too many irons in the fire, and the conflict of interest is setting in. After having a couple of weeks to myself, working undisturbed on my own material, band work resumes; I can almost feel the creative fire going out. Part of the above process was admittedly an exercise in finding my sound, my own voice, which tends to get lost when doing a money gig for any length of time. This was further complicated by the unusual direction that the latest creative impulse took - I initially set out with the aim of coming up with some new looped / soundscape material, but the Muse instead chose to serve me up a bunch of group-oriented music instead. I'm certainly not complaining, but there is the small matter of the group needed to execute this material isn't the group I'm working with.
This, briefly, is why my Teacher discourages people from becoming professional musicians - my calling to play is coming into conflict with my other obligations; it is the most bitter of ironies that my job as a musician is actually interfering with my being a musician. And this isn't the first time. Just as I am picking up steam heading down one path, I now have to tear everything down and reset for rehearsal tonight. Most of the time I am able to keep these things compartmentalized, but when everything is firing on all cylinders - which doesn't happen often - it becomes an inconvenience, and a source of mounting frustration. Such is life, though. We bear it and persevere.
Some things protect themselves by being what they are.
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