Posted tagged ‘sausages’

A Luddite?

July 9, 2017

Okay, now it seems my iPad hates me. It took the longest time for this site to load. I am considering becoming a Luddite.

Last night we laughed our way through The Black Scorpion and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. The worst part of the scorpion was how much it drooled. The movie took place in Mexico, but luckily everyone spoke English. The film was made in 1957 and had every cheesy special effect. The black scorpion was mighty ugly with beady eyes and a couple of rows of teeth. The jeep moved but the background never did.

Dinner last night was perfect for a movie on the deck. The onions were sweet, the sausage delicious. The salad had all sorts of wonderful tastes: Parmesan crisis, candied walnuts, cherry tomatoes, dried cranberries and a lemon honey vinaigrette. Dessert was movie candy.

The night was lovely with a cooling breeze. The trees are so full that my neighbors’ houses disappear. No one else was out. We had the whole evening to ourselves.

I found a place to bring my laptop. It is open today and takes walk ins. I will finish here and hit the road and hope to have all of Coffee back for later today. I miss my music and the photos.

Until then!!

“Grilling, broiling, barbecuing – whatever you want to call it – is an art, not just a matter of building a pyre and throwing on a piece of meat as a sacrifice to the gods of the stomach.”

July 23, 2016

The doors and windows are open just to change the air. It is already hot, and the house is up to 73˚. When it hits 74˚, the air conditioner will be back on to keep the house cool. Nothing is stirring not even a leaf. It is a quiet Saturday morning. I do hear bird calls but no cars and no kids.

In a bit I have to start getting ready for movie night. I have to bring up the projector, the table and the screen. They are in the cellar but will be stored under the dining room table for the season. Already, on the counter, are some ingredients I need for dinner. I’m using my lazy Susan for the condiments. I’ll cook the peppers and onions ahead of time then reheat them for dinner. There are three different kinds of sausages. There’s also cole slaw as a side. I do have to go out for a single errand. I need blue curacao for tonight’s signature drink. It’s a new one. I was drawn by the glasses rimmed in coconut.

The barbecues we had as kids were always hot dogs and hamburgers or cheeseburgers. There was always a bowl of potato chips. My father, like every other man in the neighborhood, was the cook. He always had a charcoal grill. He always used the fluid to start the coals. We used to hear the whoosh of the fire from the lit fuel. We also sometimes heard my dad putting out the flame on his shoes or the cuffs of his pants. Mishaps aside, my dad always cooked the food perfectly. When we were older, the menu took a decided turn. The meat changed. My mother bought chicken, sausages, steak tips, ribs or pork. The potato chips disappeared and were replaced by my mother’s potato salad. My father still cooked, but he used a hibachi because his grill had bitten the dust, had rotted away, but it didn’t matter. He still cooked dinner to perfection.

“There is no real need for decorations when throwing a barbecue party – let the summer garden, in all its vibrant and luscious splendour, speak for itself. “

June 5, 2015

This morning is warmer than yesterday morning but still in the 50’s. We have sun and blue skies and a bit of a breeze. It’s a pretty morning. Lots for me to do today including laundry, sweeping the deck, doing some errands and painting a part of the fence.

Last night my friends came for dinner. Other than the mixed grill, everything I served was new to me. That’s taking a chance, but usually my dishes are successes so I head confidently into the unknown. Every dish from appetizers to dessert drew compliments. I was asked to share two recipes, both simple to make, and I was pleased to oblige.

Last night I used the grill for the first time this summer. There should have been fireworks and majorettes and weather warm enough for dining al fresco, but that will come soon enough.

The first barbecues I remember were hot dogs and hamburgers on a small charcoal grill. My father always did the grilling. It is a strange phenomenon that men who never touch a stove do all the outside cooking. I think it harkens back to cavemen hauling home a piece of meat to be cooked over the fire. Tending the fire was men’s work which translated over time into cooking on a grill. My father cooked the meat perfectly no matter what it was. The menu changed as I got older, and my father cooked sausages of all sorts, steak tips, pork tenderloin, chicken and one of my personal favorites, ribs. My mother made all the side dishes: potato salad was the family favorite.

My father always cooked with charcoal, but his was the light a match and toss it on the briquets type which smelled a little like chemicals when it was first lit. He waited and watched and knew exactly when to start the cooking by reading the coals. He kept a spray bottle near him in case of flares ups. He’d sit out there, have a drink or two and cook, usually by himself. His attention was all for the food, not conversation.

He’d pile the meat on a serving platter, come inside and announce dinner was served. We were ready. The salads were made, the table set, and we were hungry for that food we had smelled cooking through the opened windows. It was always kudos for the chef.

“Learn from yesterday, live for today, look to tomorrow, rest this afternoon.”

August 2, 2013

Last night it poured but not until well after dinner. It started about the time my guests were leaving. I went out to the deck after they had left just as the rain was starting and found the umbrella lights were on so I turned them off and brought in a few dishes I had left near the grill. This morning in the daylight I checked the deck again but everything had been cleared. I came inside, made coffee and went to get the papers. Just as I got back inside the house, it started raining again, heavily.

The rain has stopped now and the day is dreary at best. I can hear drops falling from the leaves. I feel a chill from the window behind me, the sort dampness brings.

Today is a day to stay off the roads so I’ll occupy myself here. I have a few books I can start and laundry I might do, but after all of my doings yesterday, a day of rest might be what I need. Dinner was delicious. The sausages were just right as were the peppers and onions. I had bought brioche rolls and I toasted them on the grill. I caught them at just the right time. I had the fixings for a salad, but we ate almost all of the cheese and crackers before dinner so no salad. Dessert was coconut ice cream with sea salt chocolate caramel sauce. We didn’t talk during dessert; we just ate.

The Red Sox capped off our evening with an exciting walk-off win. They were down 7-1 when I first checked and 7-2 when I checked again. We decided to eat dessert inside and watch the rest of the game. It was spectacular. People had left because of the score, and I suspect they’ll lie about it if asked. How can you admit you gave up on the Sox and missed one amazing finale?

Days like today invite lethargy. I’m not even going to get dressed. For lunch I’ll have a sausage sandwich and for dinner I’ll add a salad to those sausages. A zapping in the microwave and lunch and dinner will be ready. The cats and the dog are napping. They all had such strenuous mornings lying around doing nothing. They inspire me!

“Baseball, it is said, is only a game. True. And the Grand Canyon is only a hole in Arizona.”

July 20, 2013

Unless they are all part of a vast conspiracy, the weather people are in agreement that today is it for this heat wave. Starting tomorrow, we can leave our caves and go outside to see the world. We can stop thinking we are all extras in an end of the world movie.

I remember the old days when you could buy the best seats in Fenway Park on game day. As kids, we took a bus and then the subway to Fenway to sit in the cheap bleacher seats for a Saturday afternoon game. In those days, there were a lot of afternoon games. My first night game was when I was 13 or 14. I’ll never forget how beautiful Fenway Park looked under the lights. The grass didn’t even look real. When I was in college, I went to many early season games, before college ended for the year and I had to go back home to the cape. Most of the games I saw were in May. My friend, who always got free tickets from his father, used to bring a picnic lunch his mother had packed for us. There were sandwiches, sweet and sour cucumbers, sliced carrots and always cookies for dessert. We had great seats every game: close to the field and to the Red Sox dugout. The park back then was never full or even half full. The Red Sox were not a big draw. They seldom ranked high in the standings, fourth was a good year, but I didn’t care. I loved baseball, and the Red Sox were my team.

It is really true that hot dogs taste better at ball parks. “Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jacks,”  is still true for peanuts in the shell. I love the odd shapes of those shells, and how if you’re lucky you might just find one with three peanuts. The key, though, is cracking them without losing a peanut. As for other ball park food, I’m also partial to sausages with fried peppers and onions in a roll. As for drinking, I’m not a beer drinker which is probably sacrilege at the park, but a diet Coke works just fine for me.

Most years I take in a game or two. This year I haven’t been to one yet. I feel deprived. I’m thinking sometime in September when the weather is perfect for baseball. Go Red Sox! Hang in there. I’m coming!!