creek where the hog resides

The weekend before last was time for the "dads' fishing trip" of the year. A chance for me to regain a bit of sanity while being outdoors, hanging out with one of my best buddies, drinking beer, possibly taxing myself physically, and sleeping on the ground. Oh, and for fishing. Never one to catch many fish, or very big ones for that matter, I tend to rely on the other attributes of the trip to make for fine memories. But after hearing of "healthy looking" fish at our destination this year, I was hoping to eat something larger than the under-a-foot-crowd that dominate my last 10 years of backcountry fishing.

Arriving late Thursday afternoon, to the completely unmarked "launch area," we loaded the canoe and took off into the murky green waters. Paddling a few miles to our camp we witnessed various types of birds. Pelicans sat gathered or flew silently in formation. Ducks quacked their disapproval of us while audibly flapping away. Great Blue herons stood, waiting to see if we'd cross their invisible line of threat. Swallows danced and dove, snipping bugs on the wing. Geese honked. I think I even saw a Sandhill crane. Lots of birdies, all seemingly healthy and robust. We landed our canoe, huffed our stuff a few hundred yards to camp, and began a bit of on-foot exploration. A short three minutes walk away, crystal clear waters seemed to have at least a few 15+ inch trout. Sweet. The sun dipped a bit lower, we gave the cooler a thorough temp check by sampling some of the beer, and heated up some grub. Sitting around the fire after a long day of driving and a great afternoon paddling, things were right on track for a memorable time.

Friday morning, looking out toward the sea of high grass and shallow water beyond, I noticed a large bird coming our way. Solitary pelican? No wait, damn this thing is big, maybe a turkey vulture? Naw, too fat and flapping, flying along some 50 feet off the ground. Real dark though. As it passed overhead and the perspective changed, I saw a big white head and fat profiled body. Damn dude, Bald eagle! It flew North of camp about 100 yards and took hold of a large branch in a pine looming above a pond. Cool! Wonder if he's gonna fish for the same trout we saw in the pond the night before?

After a light breakfast, we took a short walk to start the fishing part of the trip. The wild rainbow trout that inhabit the spring-fed waters here were looking abundant. Trying our luck from the shore, with N on a fly rod and me throwing my tacklebox of lures at them, we managed to scare the fish rather nicely for a few hours. Eventually I hooked a teeny little guy, and nearly landed him. It was at least proof positive that something would bite.

We went back to camp, packed some snacks and water, boarded the canoe and pushed through the algal mat blocking the mouth of the creek. Paddling into the clear waters, we began seeing fish as they were "spooked" by our canoe, swimming everywhere it seemed. A few of the larger fish had obvious wounds on their bodies. One suffering from some nasty looking, multiple puncture wounds, and another with somewhat healed looking ones. Looked like one big gash on one side of the body, with punctures on the other, and a repeating pattern farther down the body. Injuries from fishing eagles, or ospreys? Trying our luck while exploring, proved that once again, middle of the day fishing usually sucks. But the beer is at least cold by then. We took shelter from the afternoon sun, resting in the glorious shade of a thick oak canopy. Checking out the scene again near twilight, expecting more activity from the still at least visible fish, we were baffled to not even get a bite. The surroundings were totally amazing though, and it was joy enough to just be there.

Morning number two came time to pump some water. While doing so, I kept witnessing the same two "torpedo" fish lazily chasing much smaller fish around the edges of a pond. I wondered if I should be using something light and fishy looking as a lure. Checking in with N, he had caught a few small ones but kept seeing the bigger stuff. I gave him my theory, knotted up something a bit more fishy, and walked around the pool beneath an outlet stream for the pond. Another pair of fatties circulated this little cove and my heart raced a bit. I tried casting just to the edge of the stream, hoping to ride the turbulent edge of water and retrieve my lure shallow and fast so it won't get hung up on the ubiquitous rocks. First cast, tempted a little nibble from something. I hadn't seen the two nice fish for a second and thought they must be on the other side of the pool. A quick cast landed right on target, and just as the lure was close enough to start seeing, an bright gold flash hit it. My meager little 2-lb test line tightened and did a quick whining. I loosened the drag, settled down to letting this beast tire itself out and realized I must have hooked one of those "torpedos." Dear god, please don't shake off.

With much coaching, I landed this beauty. Definitely the nicest freshwater hook-up of my life. I was eager to eat it, N pointed out that it was at least a 4 pound fish, if not 5 and that it would be lunch, AND possibly dinner. "Its a big fish dude, let's get a quick picture and get it back in the water, it will be alright." It sounded like sound advice from my fishing guru. I tried to pick up the fish and dropped it into the foot high grass. Too heavy and slippery to hold by the tail alone. I took a few handfuls of grass for traction, grasped the tail with my left hand and slid my right under the belly. Holy crap, this chunky fish had a fat roll! I checked out the "bacon" around the bottom, and handed it to N, knee deep in the water awaiting hand-off. Tenderly pushing the hog back and forth in the water for a few minutes, it woke up and took off.

We did some more fishing. Mainly N I think, and I believe he caught a few more fish, but I was simply in a trance. It took a while to hit me, but damn.....did I just catch that fish I've been day-dreaming about? Wow. Sure is pretty here, great weather, abundant wildlife, crystal clear water, HOLY CRAP THAT FISH WAS FRICKI'N HUGE! Wow, maybe I should eat something, I feel like I'm tripping or something, did that really just happen? Maybe a few beers and a nice long paddle driven exploration will help ground me. We walked back to camp, gathered some grub and went exploring again.

With nothing but a calm breeze at best, we headed East to explore the other two campgrounds, should we ever want to come back here in the future. (Hell yes!) Tracing our path from a few days before, we witnessed the same bird populations, adding a few more species to the list. (Loon, Cormorant and White egret perhaps, plus positively a few turkey vultures.) Eating lunch, out of the canoe, at the Easternmost campground, a wind suddenly kicked up, and out of the West. Seriously? We looked at the high clouds and thought back to the last weather report we'd seen. Cooler on Sunday. Well, late Saturday it is, and apparently the change is going to start right now. We got back in the boat and paddled hard as some mild white caps began to form in the shallow water. Fighting a headwind nearly the entire way, we got a good unplanned workout. We landed near camp finally, shoulders burning a bit. Nothing a few cold beers can't cure. Refreshed and still dreaming of big fish from the morning, we walked over to the clear pond and began our last evening of fishing.

Once again, not having much luck fishing the twilight times, we broke down and tried a few worms. A group of people materialized along the path nearby. "Hey, how's the fishing?" Well, not really anything tonight, but a few nice fish this morning. "Cool man!" Then something tugged at my line. As the party walked past, I reeled in another nice fish. Not as long as this morning, but of equal proportions. 15+ inches, likely toward 2 pounds. "Dude nice fish! Aw, I can't wait for the tomorrow!" Having swallowed the worm completely, this fish was being eaten for sure. I walked away from the pond and got down to gutting it and prepping it for dinner.

Small salmon anyone? Can you believe the color of this thing? I've had trout that was tinged pink before, but this looked like a King salmon for crying out loud! I hacked it in half, sprinkled it with salt and pepper, loaded the pan with a few garlic cloves and some oil and started frying it up. Rich and fatty, this sweet trout tasted like none I've ever had. Toothsome, bright, and quite able to stand up to the garlic, this "little one" made me wonder if the "big one" would have been similar. Likely. But, guess I'll have to come back sometime and hook into another hog to find out.

the sound of one hand clapping

Life with a new one involves a lot of holding. Little people need touching and love like fish need water. It's a basic requirement that ends up tasking the parents with cradling them when doing just about anything. Walking from here to there, you have to relearn where your periphery is, lest you stub a toe trying to negotiate toys while carrying a squirmy eight pound weight. You end up having one arm immobilized with the itty-bitty monkey, while the other arm does everything else. You become quite proficient in living your life one handed, while your kid lives their own life with your other.

Sometimes, when you are eating dinner, with what you think is a sleeping baby, a tiny foot juts up and obscures the view. And by now you were thinking how easy it was getting, living one handed. I mean, you can still sit down and eat a meal. You just might not be able to see it.

Then it dawns on you, in one of those moments of clarity. For some unknown reason the solution presents itself out of the ether. Maybe this happens in the shower, or while sitting on the toilet, the point being it generally occurs during a task that involves doing something that is so automatic, it gives your brain a chance to wander the dials and see what is coming in on the other stations. For me, this last frequency check I heard something say "sammich'."

There it was. I need to eat more sandwiches. So I started with breakfast.

With everyone home, and all of us adjusting to new schedules, we often wake up cranky and hungry. The monkey is adjusting in her new role of sharing the spotlight, so I've been trying to ease the rough spots by getting us off to a good start. Toasted english muffins with laid yesterday egg scramble and high-fat Jersey cow melty cheese. This one felt good to hold in one hand and chomp into while the butter ran down my chin. It was a nice start indeed.


The monkey and her momma were heading out and spotted a plate on our doorstep. I quick call to Aunty revealed it to be homemade gravlax, slices of sourdough olive loaf, and a generous portion of creamy cheesey. As the little tyke and I chilled at home, what else to do? I turned the gift into a sandwich! With the wee one konked out asleep, I had two hands, I relished in the ability and ate it open face style.

Wow! Holy salted salmonoidae sis', this was really good! Like, killer good. But next time, please cure an entire salmon as one serving was simply not enough.

Pancakes aren't a sandwich, I know. But at breakfast the monkey had so politely asked for them, that come lunch time we were willing to cave in. To keep the sandwich day theme feast, I stacked them and put a layer of butter and powdered sugar in the middle. If I had done up some bacon and jammed it between, maybe I could call it a real sandwich. But I'm still giving it marks for resembling one as having two pieces of bread with a discrete middle, and if it comes right down to it the ability of being eaten one handed.

They call black cod "butterfish" for a reason. Dredged in a hot rub and flour mix (giving it an Ethiopian berbere quality) and fried, it lent this pita a nice spicey note to compliment the two rounds of heirloom tomato, avocado slices and tomato basil hummus. Although a bit tough to grasp with one hand and keep together, this middle eastern/african inspired sandwich continued the theme for the day nicely. Now, just how to end it all on a high note after the buttery goodness of the fish. Hmmmmm, there must be a way............?

.........with more, prodigious amounts of butterfat, how else? The cookies are a chocochip and oatmeal base with coconut and walnuts, surrounding a fresh mint and choco-chip ice cream. The mint was a mixture of the four kinds around our house, with an emphasis on the spearamint end of things. It was refreshing and crunchy where needed, anchored in the sweet cream and bitter chocolate. Now that, that there is definately easy eatin' with one hand.

Afterwards, when one hand was free, I realized I had survived my day o' sammich', I gave myself an applaud. Applaud like singular; just one. Having practice now at this too, I enjoy the sound of one hand clapping.

conchas ahumadas de tia

This was the scenario for most of yesterday afternoon, opening the lid to have this fine view. I'm convinced that long-time smokin' masters actually develop "smoke eyes," and have the ability to discern what the food looks like through smokey haze.





Todays wood is almond (once again from the family farm.) It burns nicely and lends a sweet smoke flavor. When it clears a bit and I can see, it looks like some of the regulars are there: salmon, ahi, pork ribs, and whats this......scallops?

Aren't those supposed to be cooked fast, and barely?



During the last smoke session, Aunty came up with an idea. "Hey D, what do you think about smoking some scallops?" Uhh......I don't think I've ever heard of that one, maybe its for a reason. "Yeah, like some of the big ones, so they don't fall through the grate, or dry out in 5 minutes. I think they'd work just fine, maybe brined like the last fish you made.....the sweetness of the scallop would go nicely with the smoke." It was a fine point. "Maybe I'll buy some at TJ's and we can try it the next time you fire up the smoker." So, with friends coming over this weekend, I had occasion to fire it up. I talked to Aunty and she gave me a bag of enormous frozen scallops. I put them in a brine made with water, salt, sugar, soy sauce, ginger, shallot and garlic. The same brine was used for the fish. The ribs were done with a "special" new rub consisting of brown sugar, salt, fresh ground cumin, coriander and pepper, paprika and cinnamon. All of the respective meats were then put in the fridge overnight.

The ribs were yummy, the salmon and ahi damn fine, and the scallops........well they tasted great, but the consistency was a bit strange while they were still warm (maybe thats why I hadn't heard of them before.) We let them rest, put them in the fridge and tried them later. Much better cold. In the future, I think I'd slice them finely, and garnish something with them or julienne them and make it an ingredient in a cold salad.









Or leave them whole and just eat them, cause they sure were pretty.

Hatexacal

I'm thinking about now that if my Texan friends knew what I was up to today they would be over this evening for some true barbeque. Smoked, for a looooonnng time, with the fire indirectly heating the meat (we're talkin' below 250 degrees,) and most likely involving mesquite, or a nice fruiting hardwood like oak.

Mmmmm........Smoked

Meat...........

Slow cooked, smoked meat......whenever I hear this, I don't really care what type of meat it is, I have faith it will be way tasty.

A number of years ago, a big-hearted Texan friend gave me some smoked pork, from her dad back home. Check this out D, she said. I gladly accepted a slice of something loin or chop like. I took a bite. I remember thinking "now how did he do that!" It was the softest, most tender piece of pork. Ever. I thought, self, you must figure out a way to procure a smoker. You must learn the ways of the great Texan masters. And thus the seed was planted for a future gastronomic experiment of mine, should I ever find myself the owner of a smoker.

Find I did.

Somewhere around six years later, St Patty's day of this year actually, I found myself chatting with a friend who said "hey, I tell you about my new baby?" (Our friend E, his wife, was very pregnant at the time, enjoying one of their last nights out, before the birth of their second child, so it seemed a funny question) No, I said. "I just went and styled myself with one of those ceramic smokers. I've had my eye on this one for a number of years actually, but it cost a few bucks....... so I finally got one." "Cool," I said, trying to imagine what a ceramic one would look like, since I had only been exposed to the drum/barrel type.....in fact, one at his house, in the backyard. "Hey, wait, don't you already have a smoker?" I found myself saying, not really thinking about a response. "Yeah, you want it?"

I thought, is it true, did he just say, do you WANT it? "Ehhhh, well, sure.....yeah......are you serious?" "Come and get it, and its yours. In fact, if you want it, could you come and get it this weekend?" "Sweet I'll put it in the back of my wagon." "No way it won't fit dude. It's about 5 feet long, with 3 foot legs, probably won't come apart ,and must weigh over 150 pounds. You're gonna need a truck." Truck? I thought. Tito! "Yeah, let me ring my brother in law and see if I can borrow his truck," I said. "You might want to borrow him too, if you can, for getting it off the truck at your house." I thought, what am I getting myself into here ? We picked it up the next day. Only then did I realize the scope of this thing. Sweet, my seed from long ago, has grown well and even fruited, and now I am coming home with the beginning of a new chapter in my culinary adventures.

So a few months later, this is what the thoroughly scrubbed and partially repainted smoker looks like while I'm starting it up, and getting ready to play around with some meat.



Todays course? Ahi, Ono, and I'm sorry if it offends some folks out there, but I like it, Tofu. The fish was brined the night before, with some measuring help from the monkey.







I just love this photo. Monkeys in the kitchen are a good thing, they remind us how everyday items can have new and exciting uses. This photo was from a while back but it illustrates nicely how measuring cups can be used for eye protection. As was demonstrated on this occasion.


The food was smoked with some almond wood. Reedley almond wood (I'll check with the source, but there is a chance it could be from a Texan variety of almond) The fish took a little over 3 hours, the tofu around 2. It was nice and brown, very smokey, and quite tasty. It looked something like this:



I promise to pay homage to my friend's father, and in the near future (okay, maybe a month or two) I'll share with you one of my ideas for getting pork to be, well, really tender, like, was that raw or something?, I didn't think you could get pork to be that soft.

Hatexacal=Hawaiian fish, Texan methods, performed by a Californian