Taters. . .

Everyone loves potatoes and they can be prepared in a number of delicious and satisfying styles, but here in the South at a bar-b-que you are more than likely to find potato salad.  I love potato salad.  I love to put lots of crunchy aromatics in the variety of versions that I like to prepare, but a few weeks ago I decided to ditch the mayonnaise (and scorn the Miracle Whip) in finding a new ways to prepare a common favorite.

During the recent heat wave we've been having, who wants gobs of emulsified egg yolk and oil sloshing around in the gut?

So here we go. . .

Red Bliss 'B' Potatoes in Vinaigette Piquant

2 Lbs. Red Bliss 'B' Potatoes, partially peeled
1 small white or red onion, medium dice
1/3 each red, yellow and green bell pepper, medium dice
1 stalk celery, medium dice
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 Tbsp. Olive Oil
2 Tbsp. Fish Sauce
1 1/2 Tbsp Worcestershire Sauce
1 1/2 Tbsp. Red Wine Vinegar
1/2 Tbsp Sugar or 1 Tbsp. Honey
Salt and Pepper
Bay Leaf
1 Sprig of Thyme

Peel the potatoes along their circumference and place them in cold water.  Add a healthy pinch of salt.

Add the bay leaf and thyme and bring to a boil.  Reduce the heat and simmer over medium heat until the potatoes have softened.  Check periodically with the tip of a sharp knife until they are tender, but do not overcook  Strain the water and allow the potatoes to cool in a colander.

While the potatoes are boiling, practice your knife skills on the onion, peppers and celery.  Combine these with the minced garlic and the liquid ingredients.  Let this mixture macerate until the potatoes are done.

Once the potatoes have cooled, place them in a sealed container with the vinaigrette and let marinate for several hours, turning the container often to evenly distribute the vinaigrette.

Should look something like this after a few hours.

Serve with your favorite grilled meat and don't forget to spoon a little of the flavorful marinade over your meat too.

Oh yeah, and fish sauce on potatoes?  Trust me folks.  I was once a professional and you ain't seen nothing yet!

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Garden, Day 8. . .

Ambient Temperature: 29°
Soil Temperature: 39°
Time: 5:30 a.m.
Date: February 3, 2008

Well, Puxatawny Phil, thanks for your glorious spring outlook you dirty little wombat!

The garden is coming back to life, whether it wants to or not. Someone, namely me, has the fever and it is an illness with no cure. My thumbs are already turning green after a long winter sleep.

Beatrice and I spent the weekend with an all-out assault on the weeds, brambles, scrub bushes and fire ants which took over the garden last summer. Most everything is dead, which facilitates easy removal, although the ants are alive and well. Especially the giant mound in raised bed number 7, which served as last years compost pile. WE MUST RETAKE THE COMPOST PILE!

Beatrice led the charge on the riding lawn mower, which was recently repaired for a dollar to a dime.


The damn field mice made off with half of a wiring harness that controls the ignition and fuel pump. God only knows what these mice do with the plastic coating. Maybe you can enlighten us Mr. Greasywrench on the propensity of small rodents who shred the sheathing off electrical wires.

I spent the afternoon turning dirt, folding in composted manure and lime and pulling out those dastardly weed things that the stinkbugs love so much. And I poked around in an abandonded ant bed or two ensuring that no one was home before I turned the dirt over. You really don't want to stir these ants up because they don't call them fire ants for nothing.

In bed #2, we planted a row of red potatoes, which after a week of living in the warmth of the kitchen, had sprouted eyes and were looking for a new place to call home. Bed #2 seemed like a prime candidate, so we cut the potatoes down, isolating the budding eyes, leaving behind enough potato to form a root mass and planted about a dozen of them down the middle of the row. If they survive the next couple weeks of cold weather, we should have a deluge of red taters by mid to late spring.

In other news. . .


Camp Burning Toast is much like the United Nations rotating Security Council presidency, we have a rotating parliamentary body in the form of animals. The last seat was vacated by a skinny black dog, who had apparently escaped from some form of bondage and spent about a month with us before departing into the great unknown. Friday night, I heard cats howling outside and found Black Kitty all bowed up and ready for a fight in a face off with another cat. I stepped outside assuming that my mere presence might scare away the intruding cat. Buddy, I was flat wrong.

In my lifetime, I've raised an army of cats and I know, understand, and can emulate perfectly cat behaviour, body language, calls, and let me tell you, this skinny little beast, had you heard him in the woods in the dead of night, would have scared the skin right off your body. He knew how to curl his body up into the oddest, and probably for another cat, most frightening contortions ever seen, and when I breached to doorway of the porch, he paid no attention to me. Black Kitty, who is a lover not a fighter, and who would throw himself in front of the mouth of past body president Black Puppy only for the affection of a few licks, did not know what to think of this feral animal.

I tried my best to intervene in the situation which resulted in both cats charging into the house at the same time. Black Kitty scared to death (he's a nervous cat anyway) and the new cat quite comfortable in his new surroundings. So, I guess we have a new cat and of course he has the curse of big furry cat balls leading me to predict a trip to the vet in the near future.

Everyone? Meet Wildcat.


He's not too fond of the other cats obviously, but he's a juvenile and removal of his manhood should reduce the incidences of cat on cat violence. In the meantime, Black Kitty will just have to toughen up and Bobcat, well she has razor blades for claws and knows how to use them.

Anyway, I like my new kitty. He's got spunk, ain't afraid of shit, including the lawn mower, and well, just seems like my kinda guy.

Might have to stock up on Heineken though.

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The Harvest. . .

For the last weeks, I've been quietly ignoring my garden, first because I'm lazy and secondly, well. . .see reason #1.

The truth is, I knew some of the Johnson grass has gotten out of hand and there is a fire ant bed that requires removal and lastly, I need to tie up some of my indeterminate varieties of tomatoes as I have just let them flop about and become a sight unruly. I sorta like the unkempt, disheveled look around the garden, it fits my style.

The glorious thing about Mother Nature is that she could care less about the Johnson grass, or the ants or the tying up of sprawling tomato plants. Leave her to her own devices and she will create beauty and take it all in the same breath. That is her will and we are mercilessly powerless against it and her.

As it is, life continues. . .always.

We can only step back in awe at the persistence, strength and tenacity of life. Life is all around us and a large majority of the daily living and breathing is simply ignored. So, stop and take a long look every now and again, bend over and truly examine the pattern of a plant leaf, the brilliant color of a flower or the tiny spider who engineered a web in your windowsill.

Revel in the glory of the creation.

Life is a unique phenomenon and to begin to understand it starts with seeing and acknowledging it first, and secondly, respecting it.

Here is what Mother Nature was kind enough to yield for my enjoyment today:



Leeks, tomatoes, squash, zucchini and red potatoes.



This sure beats dumpster diving.

Link Tip: JWF

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