Brew Day, Pt. 1

It wasn't to save money; no, I'd be lucky if it didn't cost MORE money. It wasn't to make something better than I could buy; I'm not sure if I could even come up with something as good as I could buy. But tell me, why does any crafter, garment sewer, baker, artist, musician, have to make THEIR OWN? I don't know why, but I know it's true. And I wanted to Brew My Own.

I yo yo between liking wine and microbrew beers the best. But I think that a good ale probably comes out on top. I have thought how fun and satisfying it would be to craft my own someday, and the day finally came. The week we moved, I found the information for the local home-brew club, portentously called the SOBs. There is another "S" in front of it that stands for Shasta, but I forget what the SOB part really stands for right now. It's probably the fumes of the yeast bubbling out of the cute little airlock on the fermenter.

I'm really not much for mixes. I made a cake from scratch by myself when I was in probably the 5th grade. I didn't know it was from scratch; I thought making a cake from scratch meant you weren't allowed to use a recipe. When I get complemented on a baked item that was from a mix, I find myself babbling apologies, that it was just from a mix, and anyone could do it, etc. and ad nauseum, though I'm getting better at just saying "Thank you." But beer making was foreign to my skill set, and I REALLY wanted my first batch to turn out well. So I bought a kit.

The kit was put together by the local home-brew shop, and was a Sierra Nevada Pale Ale clone. I went into the store with all the brew stuff I had, and the owner went through it, pulling items off the wall that I needed to complete my set-up. The one item I looked longingly at on the shelf was a wort cooler, a bootlegger-ish looking copper coil set-up that would quick-cool the wort, buy immersing it into the hot wort and running cold water through the copper pipe. But alas, that wasn't for today. It was my intention to make one myself for the next batch. One thing that was great about this local-made kit is that the hops and the yeast for it were kept in the 'fridge for freshness. And he ground the malted barley for it right then and there.

The next day was Brew Day.

I assembled the ingredients and read through the instructions. I cleaned everything again.




One of the best things you can do for your brew is use good water. It's no wonder that's what the major brewing companies brag about the most. It shouldn't have too many of the wrong minerals. It shouldn't have NO minerals, like distilled. And it definitely should not contain chlorine, which is what our tap water contains. I have been using a PUR pitcher system for my drinking water. It takes out all traces of the chlorine, and it tastes very nice. I could have went out and bought some bottled water, but I wasn't sure if it would taste as good as this. So I just decided to filter what I needed, which became tedious, I'll admit.




Next time, I'll taste test the purified water from the machine at the grocery store and probably get that.
I put the large stainless steel brew kettle with 2 gallons of hard won water on the range to heat up. (Thank you, Mike, for having good taste in brew kettles!) I had to take the temperature up to 157, drop in the bag of cracked roasted barley, and keep the temperature as close to 154 as I could for 30 minutes. There I found myself lacking a tool that would have made that easier--a long cooking thermometer that clips to the side of the kettle. The best one I had was a short instant read device, which I kept sticking into the water to make sure it wasn't heating up too much. One benefit was that I got to keep sniffing at the aromatic barley tea I was making. Yum!

Apparently, this part of the barley stuff was only for color and mouthfeel. The serious business was the barley malt extract. That's what would feed the yeast and create the beer.

Stay tuned for Part 2!

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For a Standing Computer Station

I was going crazy trying to think of a thrifty way to have a lecturn-ish thingy to put my keyboard and mouse on to use in front of my computer. I had already put the computer monitor up on a monitor stand, which put it at just the right level.  For awhile I used my Peak folding music stand, but it wasn't sturdy enough in the horizontal position to work well.  Finally, I thought of this. I only use my ironing board once a week, and there it was, just lounging around, sitting in my closet the other 6 days of the week! Lazy thing, I'll put you to work!

It's great! Nice and long, for arranging pieces of work. It adjusts up and down nicely. The padded fabric surface is perfect for mousing. I like my keyboard tilted away from me, making it more ergonomic. I happen to have a longish,  thick gauge glass (if you look right under the monitor, you'll see it resting there) that I just prop under the front edge of the wireless keyboard, which puts it at the right angle to keep my wrists straight.

The only thing is the stupid iron rest attached to the end of the ironing board. I was happy to get it, that is, until I got it home and realized that it wasn't meant for a nice wide Rowenta iron. Oh well, I'm sure I'll think of a good use for it, maybe make it into a cup holder.

A Brand New Adventurous Project!

Guess what I'm going to do????

New Things

There are a lot of new service providers to choose once you move to a new town, a new area. You have to find a new doctor, a new auto mechanic, a new dentist and optometrist. Most of it is pretty tedious. But I always enjoy trying out all my available options in my quest for a new...

Grocery Store! Yes, the most important shopping experience of my daily life. I spend more time there than any other shopping location, at least once a week, and what I get impacts every day of cooking and eating. Back in my previous town, I had settled on Winco. Winco was great for low prices and good selection. Sometimes the produce seemed, well, one-day-oldish, and the meat selection, while extremely affordable, was not that great. There was a lack of anything organic, and I didn't buy ice cream there. It seemed a little re-frozen sometimes. So I made up for the lack by shopping for other things at Raley's, BelAir, New Earth Market, filling in the gaps. Sometimes that made for a tiring shopping experience!

Now that I was only going to be cooking for two, I could afford to not pick a store based primarily on price, though that would be a consideration. Freshness, good price, an expanded meat market, cleanness, convenient location, some organics, variety in produce-- those were on my list.

All roads lead to Walmart. It seems to be the first place you visit when you are setting up house. Our Walmart is a humungous, brand new facility. I was more than a little annoyed though that the floor plan was not the same as all the rest. It was different, and I wandered around for a long time, getting my bearings. Walmart is not bad to pick up a few things, but I couldn't make it MY grocery store. It is crowded, both the parking lot and the store, at all hours, and the checkers are few. The groceries are ok, but when you carry everything, you can't carry a lot of it, even if the store is the size of all of Lemoncove.

I did try the local Raley's. It is obviously a smaller, older store. It is not bad, but seems more like a neighborhood market, not one to drive across town for.

I also went to the local Winco. It is across the boulevard from Walmart. It is also humungous, and it is also very crowded. I did not feel the magic.

Then I visited the newer, close-to-me Safeway store. What a nice place! The butcher was very helpful, and they carry all sorts of meats. The produce aisle is an exciting place to mill around in. There is a Starbucks inside, and also a Starbucks at the other end of the parking lot. A CVS is right next door, and on the other side is a Lowes. So I'm done looking, and that's a good feeling!

Still to ponder is the Costco option, now that I live in a town that actually has one close by.

The Tread Desk

Here you have one super custom tread desk. I made it this afternoon with a piece of 1"x12" pine board.

I tried reading while walking 1mph on my treadmill yesterday, and it was actually quite nice. I held my book, which was ok, but if I have a newspaper, a laptop, a letter to write, then I know I'll want to have a flat surface in front of me. Also, I tend to move forward on the treadmill until my toes brush the housing in front, which is ridiculous because there is a mile of belt behind me-- I won't fall off the back! This table will keep my body away from running up the front of the treadmill.

I wanted the board to not rest on top of the hand controls (fast/slow, up/down), so I cut holes out with my jigsaw. I cut ovals from painters tape out of the shapes I needed and laid them sticky side up on top of the controls. Then I carefully set the board down in place and then picked it up again. The tape stuck to the spots I needed to cut out.

It was sort of handy; like almost all 1"x12" pine boards, it was cupped a little bit. The way the arms of the treadmill are, that worked out perfectly for the setting of the board, with the cupping flaring up.

I wanted ends on the board, though I didn't really need them. But because of the curve, I couldn't use a solid piece of 1"x2". It wouldn't have touched evenly across the end. So I cut 3" pieces and screwed them on, after pre-drilling.

Ta da!

 

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Deep Fry!

I've never been a deep fry type of person. Not that I don't love fried things, No Siree! French fries from the oven? Yeah yeah, they're all right. But fresh from the fry basket at a fast food restaurant? Yum! Microwaved corn dogs? Yawn; edible, anyway. But from the little window of the food vendor at the county fair? Just gimme the yellow mustard! And the crunchy crispiness of the fish in a basket of fish and chips can't be beat.

 

But it's a pain at home. The oil. The smoke. Regulating the temperature of the oil. You're afraid to get it too hot, so you err on keeping it too cold, so it takes too long and the food isn't crispy enough. I used to have a Fry Baby, and it worked pretty well the time or two I used it. But I just couldn't get excited about it for some reason.

 

And then Melinda showed up with a new little Cuisinart deep fryer and asked me to borrow it for a little while. I'm used to that sort of request. I think I am her test kitchen. I use a small household appliance, try out some recipes, learn some tips and then turn it back over to her so she can merrily use it.

 

It was so cute, that in spite of my "been there, done that" attitude on deep fry, I was game. What I like is that it has a lid with a carbon filter over the vent, so it minimizes the fry odors that escape. It also holds in any popping of the oil. It has a very nice temperature control set up and "heating" and "ready" lights. It is also smallish, so it doesn't use much oil.

 

I had a time of it when I went to plug it in. First I had to read lots of dire warnings to NOT use an EXTENSION cord! The cord is SHORT on PURPOSE! I know about the need for short cords. Years ago, my favorite TV show was "Rescue 911," hosted by William Shatner. In one of the episodes, a grandma was frying up taco shells in an electric wok for her grandkids. The wok was on a card table set a few feet away from the plug-in, leaving a kid-sized gap bridged by an electrical cord. Of course, you know what happened. One of the boys ran through that space, pulling the wok of boiling grease on to himself. Of course it had a happy ending because Granny called 911 and they told her to douse the tot in cold water until the paramedics arrived.

 

I seemed to be having some trouble plugging this appliance cord into the fryer though. It would only go in about a quarter of an inch and then it stopped. I pushed. I turned the plug the other way. Finally I got in close and inspected it. Amazing! It didn't "plug" into the fryer; it was held in place with a magnet! So any little tug on the cord would not move the fryer. It would pop off. Wonderful! You wonder how many people were burned before they came up with this.

 

I decided to make chicken nuggets for my first project. I used the method from the booklet that came with it. I cut the nuggets from boneless, skinless chicken thighs, dredged them in flour, shook off the excess, dipped them in egg wash (an egg whisked with a little water. I can't bear to use my Godfrey Family Farms Cage Free eggs for that, so I use cheap Winco eggs) and shook off the excess, and then dropped the nuggets in a bowl of seasoned Italian bread crumbs. I left the nuggets on a plate in the 'fridge while I got everything else ready. That helps the crumbs stay on during the cooking.

 

For cooking them, I did not use the basket. More nuggets at a time fit without using it. Instead, I used one of my favorite tools, a skimmer often used with Asian cooking. It has a bamboo handle and looks like a wire dream catcher at the end. They only took a couple minutes, and Oh! how delicious! Crispy and hot, juicy and tender. And not that greasy. My next project will be some sort of seafood. But I think for chicken nuggets alone, this device is worth the cupboard space!

 

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Point Reyes Backpacking 2012, Pt 4

I spent a surprisingly warm night at Wildcat. When I peeked out from the tent flaps, I saw the reason why. A mist had settled over the campground, wisping and floating in a sea-gray way. 

A foggy morning just shouts for a hot cup of coffee!

Today was our last day on the trail. We had planned on getting underway around 8 to 9am, though there was no big hurry. Melinda “The Trailmaster” had figured it all out, that we would arrive at the Palomarin trailhead in the vicinity of noon. We would decide whether or not to stop for a lunch break when we saw what our leaving time was. Or driver was to pick us up at 12:30pm.

So we messed around. We went down to the beach to see if those nice Wigwam hiking socks were still abandoned in the sand. (they were; I took them) We drank our coffee, made breakfast, got dressed, looked at the birds, and took down the tents and packed them wet, since we could lay them out at home later that day. 

Once we finally hit the trail, we were shocked to note that it was almost 10:30. That would make our arrival closer to 1 or 1:30, if we did not stop for lunch. But we figured our driver wouldn’t start to worry until after an hour of waiting had passed. But we did step up the pace.

The trail was simple this day, no forks to get lost on.

 The only sort of side trip we took was where the Coast Trail split around the little lake and gave a nice view of the ocean on a little ledge sporting a sturdy little bench. I could feel a surprising strength in my legs as I strode along. It had been 3 days of good, solid hiking with a fair amount of ups and downs, but I was good for it. I’m sure that the vision of my husband whom I hadn’t seen for several days waiting at the base of the trailhead steps also gave wings to my feet.

Some of the interesting characteristics of the trail had to do with erosion. You could see many places where the trail was the handiest place for water to run down, with the anticipated results—gullies for trails. The gullies were very hard to walk in because they were only about as wide as a stride. So if you lined up one foot in front of the other, it worked. But if you swayed a bit, and a foot had to step out a little keep your balance, then it got tricky. Because there wasn’t room to put a foot aside. So what would happen is that the feet stayed lined up and the wobble was taken up by everything on up from the feet. I’m the swaying of my arms and backpack looked suspiciously like too much grape juice or a neurological problem. When it got too bad, someone had just started another trail up on the turf beside the gully, where you could hop up and continue on. More than once, I straddled the gully-trail, walking along on the shoulders.

We snacked on the way. I had brought a handful of Larabars. They were really nice! Such a simple product, which is why I like them so much. The base is just dates. Another couple of ingredients are added, and then imaginative names are applied. Add pecans and almonds, and call it Pecan Pie. Add dried cherries and almonds, and call it Cherry Pie. Add unsweetened coconut shreds, cashews and almonds, and call it Coconut Cream Pie. Add lemon, cashews and almonds and call it Lemon Pie. If I ate them all the time, I’d probably try to make them myself.

Each trip, we try to think of The Treat. What treat can we bring that may have no nutritional value at all but is necessary for general morale? At Olohne, we ate Sees Peanut Brittle. Pikes Peak was caramel corn one year and Paydays the next. The caramel corn was good, but a big pain to handle the pieces. The Payday was good, but I didn’t want the peanuts this year. I didn’t want to deal with chocolate and it’s melty mess. I’m not fond of hard candy, though we all enjoyed an occasional lemon drop from Melinda’s snacks. So after indulging in one of my favorite hobbies, mentally cataloging my favorite candy bars, I decided to buy Big Hunks for the trip. I got a bag of snack size ones to help me stagger them out throughout the trip, and also to share.

The Big Hunks were great! In the heat of the day, they were nice and soft, but not melty. If they were harder, I’d just make sure to gnaw them more carefully to not pull out fillings. The only change I’d make is to bring the regular sized ones next time. It was annoying to have to work with all the little papers to peel off each time I wanted a bite. It always made more than one piece of trash, and invariably I ate two at a time anyway.

We hurried right along, noticing the spot where we had taken a lunch break the previous year. Melinda was the one who recognized it. It had been foggy then, and today it was bright sunshine, so it looked completely different. We strung out along the trail a little more today as we neared Palomarin. The cliffs there are magnificent. And one thing that makes them magnificent is their danger. They are crumbly and go straight down a hundred feet or more to the bit of beach and rocky surf. We were starting to meet day hikers going for a walk along the cliff trail. Nola was behind, out of sight a few curves back.

Have you ever met a stranger who seemed to hit some deep unconscious sense in you with an aura of, well, maybe not evil, but with something maybe, “off,” something that makes you draw back, feel cautious, be suspicious? I met a man on the trail like that. The meeting was brief, just a whiff in passing as he strode by with his trekking poles. He didn’t look or speak to us, not in a bad way, not in a good way. I didn’t analyze it, didn’t speak of it, just noted it. Shortly afterwards, Nola caught up.

“Hey! Some serial killer could have just pushed me off the cliff. Just a little poke and I’d be gone! No one to see, and he would have just kept walking!”

Now that was peculiar talk from Nola. So I asked.

“What made you think of that? Was it perhaps about the time that last hiker passed by?”

“Yes! Something about him…”

Who can say?

Finally we were in sight of the stairs, then end of our journey. I dashed ahead and stood their looking into the windshield of the truck at the head of my husband, passing the waiting time by reading. He felt my gaze, I’m sure! And looked up at me. He pulled the truck closer and then got out, smiling at me. I beamed at him. He drew closer. I reached out to him, and I handed him my camera.

“Here, take our picture!”

(Unknown to us, he had thought we said to pick us up at 11 or so. He didn’t want to be late, so had waited from about 10:30 to 1:30, when we finally arrived. So now we know how much better we need to be about communicating and confirming our times!”