The Storm Door (and a Patio Tour)

Not in time for the hurricane, but not too late either, the storm door was successfully installed today! And our only hurricane damage was a weird hole in our siding that exposed the Tyvek underneath. We found a small chunk of brick that was the likely culprit. Back to the storm door..... About a month ago we had a sideways rain. The rain was particularly insidious due to it's ability to go up the slight hill of our patio threshold and then into the kitchen. So we decided we'd like a storm door. If you haven't seen it personally...our patio has fake french doors on it. As in, only one side opens, the other is just a window. The butt came with the patio.
We discovered, at Lowes, that standard storm doors don't fit fake french doors very well. We determined that we needed to build out the mullion strip between the door and the not-door so that it was the same profile as the outer edge of the fake french doors.John checking the measurements. again. and again.

So we ordered the door we wanted and set about the not too urgent process of padding out the mullion strip. By the time our door came in we went out of town and then we got a hurricane. Good timing, right? But after the hurricane we had a not too rainy day and were able to put the thing up. This picture isn't a closeup because this was our first mullion strip modification and it was not perfect. Not bad, but not perfect. Highly functional though.
We installed the door and are pretty happy with it.
The coolest part of this door is that there is a roll screen in the top window that you can pull down when you want some air. John is clearly enjoying the breeze.
After the installation, we enjoyed some celebratory bratwurst; the traditional food of victorious home-improvers.

While we're out here on the patio, I'll give you a tour of John's green thumb summer projects.

That is basil in the brown/green pot and dill in the tan pot. The dill has a jalapeno pirate in it. Their roots are so enmeshed now that they can't be separated.
More jalapenos in the round tan pot, chives in the brown planter, and a gardenia from John's dad in the green planter. The giant green container behind the plants is the garbage pot.

This is the corner plant. Once upon a time we knew what it was, but that knowledge has been lost to antiquity and tours.

There is a dogwood tree also from John's dad in the round tan pot. Dan and Betsy bequeathed to us their thyme in the round brown pot. The square black pot is full of rosemary and the little white pot may be just dirt. And that is the last of John's "patio for orphaned and wayward plants".

Heather's First Hurricane

That's right, having been a resident of the South for 3 years now. I finally got a hurricane. (Well, almost. Technically, it's a tropical storm and I guess technically it's not mine.) However, all technicalities aside I am considering it mine, because it is wreaking boredom and annoyance in my backyard.

Unfortunately, John and I were unable to get our storm door up in time for numerous reasons (chief among them the fact that no standard storm door will fit our patio and retrofitting was necessary) and are now the disgruntled, cabin-fevered recipients of "under-the-patio-door-puddles". Grrr. 4 more days of rain and we'll be able to put that door up.

Peasant Dishes

Smoked Backbones (Pig)

This edition is dedicated to rib enthusiasts. Smoked pig backbones taste very similar to smoked ribs. The dining experience is a lot like that of eating St. Louis ribs. There is of course more bone and gristle with the backbones since they are in fact the spine of the swine. But I can tell you that the reward of getting every morsel of meat off the bone is so much sweeter.

According to Wikipedia, the pig was domesticated circa 5000 B.C. by the Chinese. Having been to China, I can vouch for their never-ending cuisine of pork. Throughout history, butchers, farmers and cooks have been using every part of the pig, yes, even the oinker in some regions of the world. The backbones are from the loin cut of the pig just above the spare ribs. Like I said, it’s the spine of our beloved farm animal. Now in keeping with our theme of peasant dishes, backbones are absolutely considered the throw away parts. The local butcher knows that the cut of meat will not fetch a high price. In fact, in your neighborhood grocery store, you’ll find them grouped in with ham hocks, turkey necks, and hog jowls. When you are looking for it in the meat section, look all the way at the end of the freezer. It is typically labeled smoked backbone. It is usually smoked for flavor these days. However, smoking and salting were used as a form of preservation before refrigeration.

The ingredients of this dish make pure comfort food. It’s hard to imagine that our peasant ancestors would have had time to enjoy it this way. They were just looking to stay alive during the winter. When I pulled the backbones out of their squeaky Styrofoam package, I knew that they were going to be good. The backbones were boiled for an hour until the meat was a Christmas ham red. You could just see that the meat was going to be tender. Flavorful and delicious can’t even begin to describe the taste. Just think of the best rack of smoked ribs you have ever had. Forget the barbecue sauce. You don’t need it. The potatoes were cubed and tossed into the backbone stew for the last 20 minutes of cooking. Potatoes love the water and they love to soak up any flavors that are near by. I like to think of potatoes as brown nosers. They will do anything to please you. Potatoes have no problem even changing shapes just to suit your palate. This time the potatoes had taken on the juices of the stew and had this ham-flavored, buttery goodness. I will take these potatoes over baked or mashed any day. Last, but certainly not least, the rice was cooked in the broth that was made from cooking the backbones and some baby lima beans finished it off. All in all, it was a sweet look back at the pig backbones

Backbones, the way I remembered them, were not as tasty as the ones that I cooked today. The backbones that I remember were greasy, brown, and not ham flavored at all. I think it’s possible that I was served beef backbone first, and that ruined my outlook on the backbone delicacy. Beef backbone needs a great deal more help to be savory like pig backbone. Maybe we can tackle that later. There is a famous picture of my dad eating what I believe is pig backbone at our family dinner table. The most striking thing about the photograph is that he is clearly, and appropriately, alone. And, here’s why.

When I cooked the ham hocks, I wasn’t true to tradition when it came to eating them. I didn’t get out the knife and carve every piece of meat and cartilage from the bone. True hock lovers are amazing to watch when it gets to this point. There wasn’t the slightest hesitation with the backbones. This time is got messy and personal. And it was private. I realized after the meal that it was a good thing that Heather had gone out to run some errands. There was carnage every where. I was wearing a gleaming grin with an overwhelming look of completion on my face. Nirvana had been reached.

The Recipe
Smoked Backbone (Pig)


1 to 2 lbs Smoked backbone
6 cups Cubed new red potatoes
1 cup Long grain rice
2 cups Baby lima beans
1 Tsp Salt
3 strips Bacon

Preparation: Fry bacon for 3 minutes in the pot that you plan to use for the baby lima beans. Let pot cool for 2 minutes. After cooling, boil the baby lima beans in the same pot in 6 cups of water with salt on high for 30 minutes then simmer on medium heat for another 30 minutes. Boil backbones on high in 12 cups of water for 40 minutes. Drain 2 cups of broth from backbones. Pour broth into rice cooker, or pot, and cook rice for 20 minutes. Add cubed red new potatoes to backbones. Add 4 additional cups of water to the backbones at this point and continue to boil on high until rice is done. Then make sure you have a small plate for the bones and a few napkins, cause es gone get messy.

Peasant Dishes

Ham Hocks and Beans

The first of the peasant dishes is called "Ham hocks and beans". The meat is ham hocks. And yes, you’ve guessed it, ham hocks are a lesser cut of meat. The ham of the pig was of course the top cut of meat. But, just below the ham is the leg shank. The hock comes from the part of the shank between the ham and the ankle. The ham was typically smoke-cured for preservation. Before the ham was sold to the wealthier clientele the hock was cut off because the wealthy class was not interested in serving this portion to their guest. This part of the leg shank contains way too much skin, fat, bone and gristle to be considered as palatable as ham. Remember, the goal has always been to “live high on the hog”.

Of course the butcher would save these scraps for his less fortunate customers. Since this cut of pig did not offer a whole lot of sustenance, the peasant folk would boil the ham hock in water until it was very tender.

Beans, rice, potatoes, and whatever else was leftover from last night's meal was added to the stew. It was all about using everything you had and not letting any part of the animal go to waste. Why not eat the hock? It tastes just like ham and it's cheaper.

Now once you had your fill of this smoky goodness, you had the divine delicacy of “pot liquor”. What pray tell is “pot liquor”, you might ask. I’m glad you asked. “Pot liquor” is the liquid portion of the reduced broth and vegetable gravy that is left at the bottom of the pot when the main contents are finished. No flour based gravy can ever compete with this nectar of the gods. I have seen family dinner tables erupt in pandemonium over this stuff. If you are ever offered “pot liquor” do not hesitate. And make sure to have biscuit in hand for sopping the juices from the pot. I promise you will be blissfully full afterward. As you would imagine, in a savory cycle that seems to never end, the leftovers from the ham hock supper, if there are any, are traditionally incorporated into the next meal. We’ll take a look at how to do that in the next episode.

The Recipe
Ham Hocks and Beans

4 Smoked Ham hocks
2 Cups Black-Eyed Peas
2 Cups Lima Beans

Preparation: Boil ham hocks in 12 cups of water for 1 hour. Remove ham hocks from pot. Slice away all the skin from the hock and refrigerate in an air tight container. Trim all meat away from bones. Leave one cup of broth in the original pot. Pour the rest of the broth into a container and refrigerate. You'll get to use the refrigerated broth for another dish. Place meat and bones back into the pot. Add beans to the mixture and let simmer for 5 minutes. Serve with biscuits and greens.

Guest Series: Peasant Dishes

You know it seems like years since I have written any stories for the entertainment of others. But now I finally have something to write about.

It's not a well known fact that Heather and I are what you call foodies. What are foodies you might ask, well I'll tell you. A foodie is an aficionado of food and drink. Now don't get us confused with gourmets or gourmands. Those snobs have no idea what good food is. Gourmets are only concerned with eating and drinking the finest food and beverage at some new hot restaurant that has created the latest in over-priced crap that is passed off as exciting and rich in flavor. A foodie on the other hand is interested in everything about food and drink. Some will say that we foodies are obsessed with the science of food preparation and the history as much as the taste of dish and drink. A foodie is often preparing, cooking, eating, and drinking the very spirit of culinary delight. A foodie not only looks for the finest tastes from all over the world, but he is also very interested in the history of the food, the history of the culture that the dish comes from, the preparation of the food, the science of how it is cooked, and finally the taste that makes sense of it all. Most times the preparation of the food and how it gets to your table will be determined by the environment that surrounds you.

A brief history lesson about food preparation is in order here. Throughout time the wealthy elite have been eating the finer cuts of meats, the freshest veggies and certainly drinking the sweetest wines. If you did not go out and play a part in the killing of an animal during the caveman days, you received the scraps after the hunters were fed. Do you think poor Egyptians dined on the best the Nile had to offer? No. If you were friends of the royal court of England during the Middle Ages you would have supped on filet mignon, fresh fruits and vegetables and the earthiest of Cabernet Sauvignon. Before the colonization of the Americas, much of the state sponsored rations were considered the scraps of the royal kitchen. Instead of beef tenderloin they were supplied with beef backbone and rotting potatoes. There was no veal on the Santa Maria or the Nina. During the actual colonization of the Americas, the families that pioneered a new and freer way of living brought with them their peasant cuisines. These folks were used to taking the less-tender cuts of meat and adding vegetables or dried goods like rice, and creating savory dishes.

These heavenly creations were, and still are, very simple to make. It just takes a lot of love to prepare them. Farmers, peasants, colonists, pioneers, and even thieves would take the cheapest, and most times free, cuts of meat, day-old breads and vegetables and combine them all in a giant pot, cauldron, Dutch oven, or pan. The meat would be reduced in a liquid, usually water, to create a broth that was fantastically salty or smoky. The intensity of the salt or smoke depended on the preservation technique. The vegetables, or dry goods like rice or day old bread were then tossed in to simmer. Once all the components of the soup-like dish were saturated with the smoky, salty goodness it was time to eat. Believe it or not, the colonists were only trying to conserve energy, time, and resources when they cooked. What is now considered by foodies world-wide to be the most savory and unique forms of food preparation were once a very lowly way to eat, if you could call it that.

I have recently started to recall some of the “peasant dishes” that I experienced while growing up. As a child I would eat with my grandparents on weekends. Both sets of grandparents were from a farming background. The Ward Grandparents were tenant farmers for most of their life. My mother's parents lived in town and worked industrial jobs but the traditions of farm life were deeply ingrained in them. Back then, I was subjected to every green leafy thing that kids hate to eat. There was no shortage of the most questionable, sloppy, stinky, salty, squishy, indescribable dishes known in the kid world. I think this is why now I have a repressed desire to cook the perfect, most tasty, colorful meal each night. But, something has clicked. Something has changed in my heart of hearts. I think that I am beginning to crave those messy, gooey, slimy pots of indescribable goodness.

It was custom in our home that we were not allowed to leave the dinner table until the plate was clean. You know back then it wouldn't have mattered what I was being forced to eat, because I couldn't see it through the veil of tears that would inevitably fall. I just didn't want to eat that yucky stuff. But now, with this newfound dimension to my foodie nature and thanks to Heather's unconditional love for me and my bizarre tastes, I am going to start reexamining those "peasant dishes" that I hated so much as a child.