Chisholm Challenge
Before the bull and bronc riders, before the rodeo show and the barrel racers at the Fort Worth Stock Show and Rodeo, you can see some terrific horsemanship at the Chisholm Challenge for Special Riders.
Thanks to all the volunteers and staff, and sponsors, of the area stables that continue to serve the community in a way no other recreational outlet can.
If you check it out, you’ll never see horses and riders in quite the same way again.
Peanut Sauce Promise
Here is the recipe Mark got from the hornist when they were both principals in the Sacramento Symphony.
I found the recipe unexpectedly authentic and always wondered where Eric got it. Mark used to like to say that, as a French hornist, Eric played very sharp and nearly missed all the notes. It’s tuba humor. You had to be there.
Peanut Sauce
1 chicken carcass
1 bunch of cilantro
1 bunch green onions
3 carrots
1/2 bunch of celery
3 yellow onions, chopped
5 garlic cloves, chopped
1/3 cup ginger juice (grate fresh ginger and squeeze through a cheese cloth)
2 1/4 pounds crunchy peanut butter
1 1/2 lb jar of Crosse and Blackwell
red sambal
3 T butter
1/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil
In four quarts of water, boil chicken with cilantro, green onions, carrots and celery for one hour. Cool to lukewarm and strain.
Saute onions and garlic in butter and olive oil til golden, set aside.
Add peanut butter to lukewarm broth. (If broth is too warm, it will coagulate.) Stir until lumps are gone. Add onion mixture, cocktail sauce, ginger juice and red sambal to taste. Stir thoroughly.
This makes a lot of peanut sauce. Serve over cold noodles and cucumber cut julienne. Stir fry tofu til brown, add red peppers and spinach til wilted, stir in peanut sauce as desired. Marinate chicken in sauce, grill, basting with additional sauce. Give a jar to a friend.
It Takes a Village
The summer we stayed in Colorado, Sam took swimming lessons. He was 4 1/2 years old. He enjoyed the water very much, but he didn’t learn to swim.
After we moved to Texas, my neighbor, Karol Smith, took all three of my kids into her backyard pool and taught them to swim in a week. She said she’d taught dozens of kids to swim by condensing the way most parks and rec programs did it — sometimes over several years of summers. She guaranteed she’d get it done.
It was the summer Paige turned 6, so Michael would have been 8, and Sam, 11. I was certain she’d have Michael and Paige swimming, but told her Sam might take a little longer.
It didn’t. And, Karol turned Sam into the biggest fish of them all.
Overheard in the Wolfe House #150
Peggy: Was it fun seeing Kelley’s new baby today?
Sam: Oh, yes. I’m sure it inspired sentimental feelings in you, when you took care of us when we were infants.
Peggy: Oh, yes.
(pause)
Sam: Of course, it made me remember when I was born.
Peggy: You can remember when you were born?
Sam: Yes, I can.
Peggy: What all do you remember?
Sam: The hospital looked very similar.
Bonenkai or not?
There are many things about 2011 that tell me it doesn’t matter how many black-eyed peas I eat, that Southern tradition for good luck isn’t going to work for me.
I loved being a part of many year-end parties in Japan when I was there twenty-five years ago. (Gad, that’s a long time.) Even though 1985 was a good year, everyone acted as if it couldn’t come to an end soon enough so that they could have another shot at it in the New Year. We ate like kings. And then the New Year came — and that’s three full days of resting and eating and being with family and friends.
Now, 1986 was a very good year for me. So I’m thinking Paige’s little project this afternoon of making ramen noodles from scratch (based on a website that has thorough directions, with photos) ought to be our bonenkai. She’s trying to channel her dad, who was an excellent pasta maker (his recipe below — he would have the noodles cut by the time the water was boiling).
Yep, I’m thinking 2012 is going to be a very good year.
Mark’s Perfect Pasta
Two heaping 1/3 cups of semolina flour
1 egg
1 T. water
salt
1 tsp. olive oil
white flour
large pot boiling, salted water
Put all ingredients in a food processor and process til a ball forms, about 3 minutes.
Turn out on a floured board and knead for a minute or two until supple. If it’s too wet, knead flour into it. Divide into parts and put through your pasta machine. You may need to roll it through several times at the wider setting until the dough is supple enough to start rolling it through the thinner settings. Dust with flour on both sides before you roll it through the cutter.
Drop the noodles in the water and cook until slightly swollen, about five to ten minutes. Big noodles take longer.
Drain.
Serve hot with garlic butter and grated Romano cheese; your favorite marinara sauce; room temperature with pesto; or cold over cucumber cut julienne style and peanut sauce poured over all.
I’ve already posted the pesto recipe. I’ll put up the peanut sauce recipe tomorrow.
Text Messages You Don’t Want to See While At Work
1:19 p.m.
Sam to Peggy: I got some bad news.
Peggy (holding her breath): What?
1:38 p.m.
Sam: I couldn’t fix ClickFree ….
(Peggy exhales.)
Overheard in the Wolfe House #149
Peggy: I have a new Christmas arrangement to play for you.
Sam: Yes! The Charlie Brown one. (as Peggy gets to the key change at the bridge) Oh, she’s having trouble.
Mark’s Kahlua
Just about every year this time of year we’d have to hightail it outside and stay gone for a while because Mark would be making kahlua for his friends and music colleagues. The only thing that stinks up the house more than making kahlua is making mustard. Caramelizing onions isn’t even on the same scale of stink, I’m telling you.
Ok, guys. Here’s the recipe he refined while we were living in Sacramento.
2 quarts plus one cup water
7 cups sugar
6 ounces of freeze-dried coffee
1 T. Hershey’s cocoa, optional
1 fifth of Everclear
3 T. vanilla
1. Drive to Reno to buy Everclear. (After we moved to Texas, he drove to Paradise.)
2. Boil water and add sugar. Add coffee and boil for 15 minutes. The house will be really smelly, so go outside. Add the cocoa and remove from the heat. Let cool.
3. Add Everclear and vanilla. Bottle and keep in your liquor cabinet.
Today it’s four years since he’s been gone.
I don’t like thinking that at some point in my life I will have lived more of my life without him than with him.
Overheard on the Dance Floor
Peggy: We twirl pretty well, I think.
Sam: That’s because we don’t twist each other’s arms off.
What Little Girls Are Made Of
As Paige was packing up for college last summer, we had a dilemma. She’d been borrowing my jewelry box for years because she had way more bangles and beads and baubles than I did.
I stopped wearing earrings when the kids were babies and pulled on them. My skin has autism. It doesn’t like bracelets or necklaces or rings. She felt a little guilty about taking my box, especially since that left me without anything for the few things I do have.
On her dresser was a box she’d made at art camp in elementary school. It was empty. I asked her about the ceramic piece affixed to the top. Did she remember making it?
No, she said, but she did remember what inspired her. “I had learned the atmosphere was made up of bits of sunlight, and water, and the grass around us. I wanted to make that. I wanted to make the atmosphere.”
That went right to my heart. “I’ll trade you boxes,” I said. She didn’t think it was a fair trade, but I convinced her.
My little girl comes home for the holidays tonight.
Sugar and spice.