Category Archives: Cooking

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” Oh Thanksgiving- Oh!”

” Oh Thanksgiving , Oh Thanksgiving. How we greet you as in days of yore. Coming as you do in autumn when the summer ain’t no more. Oh Thanksgiving, Oh Thanksgiving, Oh!”

At the beginning of most Thanksgiving dinners in my house growing up, my Grandmother Reynolds would always recite this crazy little poem. We all would laugh and any new people or strays as they were called, would look at each other in bewilderment and wonder – ” what was that?” But Thanksgiving in our house was always a big deal. My mom was a heck of a good cook and she would make several turkeys, mounds of stuffing and potatoes, gravy and all the fixings for all of the relatives and those friends whom she felt needed a helping hand or lift at the holidays. She and my dad always worked so hard to make it nice and the meal was off the charts delicious. My favorite meal of the year. Plus, with my mom being the consummate entertainer, the house always looked festive and the fireplace was roaring because my mom thought of it all as entertainment and our house as a stage.

Fast forward and my dad bought a green Buick station wagon to pick up all the relatives. At 16, that was my job, and we laughingly called the station wagon the “ambulance” with the advancing age of my relatives. In fact, when they had too many Manhattans at my house, which I always made to help my dad, the term ambulance took on a serious meaning because I literally had to pour them into the station wagon in various stages of inebriation- they were Irish you know. My mother’s Aunt Lee would always be looking for her glasses after too many highballs which were invariably perched on the top of her head. My mother’s cousin would be putting the ignition key into his side window of his car. I told him to sit tight and I would take him back home later. The Manhattans were lethal and my dad’s eggnog was even more so. Octogenarians tended to be fragile anyhow and after several bombs served at my folks house, they only had one recourse- home in the ambulance.

It got to the point eventually when the ” ambulance” became only the delivery vehicle as we got older and my sister and I were in charge of delivering the Thanksgiving meal to all the elderly relatives who really could not make the trek to my folks house any more. I can remember many a Thanksgiving spending the whole afternoon delivering 5 complete turkeys and the accompanying dinner to each of the relatives, helping them get it ready, saying grace with them, and then headed on to the next stop. My mom and dad were amazing in their zeal for Thanksgiving and to make sure that all of our family in some way was together with at least a good homecooked Thanksgiving dinner.

Oftentimes I was beat up before I started the deliveries with the neighborhood Turkey Bowls. The Slippery Rock kids and the Clarion kids who played football, took great delight knocking all of us younger neighborhood kids into the middle of next week at the annual football fest. I was careful not to get hurt before ski season, but can remember catching many passes and then getting absolutely creamed by a kid who played college football. My dad would come over to the field and tell me to start getting ready for the deliveries in the green station wagon and believe me, I was happy to leave.

When I think back on those days, I marvel at my folks who made entertaining an art form. They were very generous to my relatives and also our neighbors and the time spent on making 5 turkey dinners amazed me. They did it as a team and even to a young kid, it was impressive. Even more so as I look back today. I am grateful for my parents and the generous spirit in which we were raised.

I remember asking them why they went through all the effort and my mom’s famous line was always” Patrick- happiness is like a perfume that you can’t sprinkle on others without getting a little on yourself.” I really think that they got more happiness out of doing those nice things than the people that they served.

I think there is a lesson to be learned here in that in this day and age of isolation due to Covid, a polarized political climate, and general uncertainty. The need for reaching out is even more paramount than in my parent’s day. There will be a lot of people this year spending Thanksgiving without their family. It will be a strange year and yet, if we all pitch in and sprinkle a little bit of that perfume, we all will be better off until things return to normal someday. Even in these hard times, we all have a lot to be grateful for. I am thankful every day for many things and even though this year will not be shared with relatives and friends, I will be happy to look at my wife and say , ” things will get better real soon.” Thanks for reading and reach out to someone who might want to hear from you. Sprinkle some of that perfume.

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Breakfast at the Grange

“The Grange is a fraternal organization in the United States that encourages families to band together to promote the economic and political well being of the community and agriculture”

It is amazing how a little Vermont maple syrup can make even the most stoic farmer smile. I have this habit of taking my own Vermont maple syrup with me whenever I know I am going to have pancakes for breakfast. My wife and son just shake their head but not long ago, I used to take my son to the buckwheat pancake breakfasts at the Mt. Nebo Grange and always brought my maple syrup. This time of year when the sap starts running(not me running- the sap out of the maple trees), and the northeast starts the process of manufacturing syrup, I take advantage of the buckwheat pancake breakfasts that spring up locally on my way to the ski slopes. It is a rite of passage with spring skiing and in his formative years, I would take my son Jack to the Mt. Nebo Grange before we would head to the mountains. He didn’t quite know what to make of it but when we entered the building, the elder ladies and gentlemen of the Grange would seat us and serve the most delicious buckwheat pancakes. Interesting thing about buckwheat pancakes is that there is quite a bit of preparation which includes making the batches of batter ahead of time and allowing the yeast to do its thing. When you slather butter on them and pour the maple syrup and take your first delectable bite, there is a hint of a brewed substance almost like the taste of beer. Jack was not a fan but satisfied himself with the regular pancake offerings and bacon which brought a smile to his syrup smeared face.

It is curious that when you enter a place like the Grange, all of the members seem to know each other and even though the breakfasts are open to the public, there is this sense of belonging and if you are a stranger, you are given a seat with a wary eye. That all starts to melt when they see a young guy like Jack as they try to make him feel welcome even though we are not “Grangers”. The old farmers would check us out and when I brought out the Vermont syrup, their Log Cabin generic swill started to look pretty average at best. I would see the curiosity in their faces and offer to share my treasured gold with them. They willingly took up my offer and looked over at Jack and me and a crack of a smile came to their rather serious faces. The next thing you know, the table was swarming with curiosity seekers and my syrup suddenly vanished. I learned my lesson on subsequent visits by bringing more syrup and suddenly Jack and I became known as the “syrup guys” and like “Cheers” we all were greeted with a robust “hello” when we entered the building. It was only for a couple of weekends but somehow, Jack and I felt like we fit in to this fraternal organization of farmers or would be farmers which is slowly fading with urban sprawl.

I always made it my business to expose Jack to a lot of events and experiences when he was growing up. I explained the mission of the Grange and although we were not of an agricultural bent, he understood what the organization meant and why it was slowly losing membership as the farms were being sold to developers and the membership of the Mt. Nebo Grange was aging. But to share that experience of home made food, and seeing the culture of the farm life, was a good experience for father and son.

So, if you happen to be looking for some entertainment and good food during “cabin fever” time, look for buckwheat pancake breakfasts near you. They tend to pop up at this time of the year and if you need some syrup, contact http://www.maplesyrupvermont.com and tell Pauline I sent you. We have good syrup here in Pa. but I must admit that I am partial to Vermont Grade A Golden Color with Delicate Taste. That is what you want to order. Thanks for reading.

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Glimpses of the Tour de France

So I said to my wife Janet the other day, ” Well dear, guess what time it is?” She said, ” What time is it, dear?” I said, “Its Tour de France time!!!” Her response was “Ugh” because she knows that for the next three weeks, I will be in the basement at night watching the recap coverage of the day’s stages on TV. Nothing like Phil Liggett and Paul Sherwen in their coverage backed up by Bob Roll and Christian van de Velde. Phil Liggett has some classic commentary like, ” He is digging into his suitcase of courage.” or ” The Heads of State are all assembling at the front.” I laugh when I hear him say,” He is riding like a scalded cat.” Or perhaps his classic,” He is wearing the mask of pain” His foil, Paul Sherwen, was actually a Tour de France rider who keeps the affable Liggett grounded when he says, ” Yes, sadly Phil, you never rode the Tour.” I love the hilarious banter between these two very knowledgeable Brits.

I have never been to the Tour but it is definitely on my bucket list. I would love to take in the pageantry and scenery of the French countryside and to see some of the iconic climbs of the Tour through the Alps and the Pyrenees.

But I have had some brushes with the Tour which included a wonderful experience a few years ago riding with our 3 time Tour champ, Greg LeMond.

Thanks to my friend Scott Weiner, I had this opportunity for two weekends in separate years, and when you get to spend that kind of time with a guy, you get to ask great questions about the Tour and get some amazing answers from a truly interesting person. You can still see glimpses of his strength when he cranks up those massive thighs on the flat or when he takes pictures with his hands off the bars for miles. A riding talent to say the least and a very friendly and approachable champion.

Riding in the Netherlands a number of years ago, I got to see up close and personal, the fervor of the Dutch people for cycling. The world seemed to stand still as all the shop owners, businessmen and women, children, and travelers all stopped to see the stages on Eurovision wherever they could. All the chatter in the cafe’s was about the Tour. I was there during the event and rode some of the classic roads of the Amstel Gold Race- the premier road race in the Netherlands. People constantly talked to me about my thoughts on the Tour and showed their visible excitement for what is like the Super Bowl of sports in Europe.

But I also have an interesting local connection to the Tour who is a most interesting guy. Jean Marc Chatellier owns an excellent French bakery in Millvale, Pa. He and I always talk about the Tour at this time of the year and I find that I frequent his bakery not only for his absolutely delicious pastries, but to spend the time talking to him all about the Tour. I like his takes on the controversies, the French riders, the Americans, the UCI and the Tour organizers. If you get the chance, go visit Jean Marc and take the time to watch this video. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7NZ4E_6NVQw&sns=em

I know that a lot of cyclists and people in general have lost interest in the Tour because of all of the doping scandals. In this edition, the controversy has been all about the Cavendish/Sagan crash and the ultimate expulsion of the reigning world champion from the event. But aside from all the madness, the Tour remains one of the most revered sporting events in the world. It puts the beauty of France on display every year and personally, I love watching all of the action. Janet eventually comes to watch especially when NBC shows the beautiful mountains and French countryside. She wears her” mask of pain” most times as she was not a bike racer, but knows how much I enjoy the tactics, and the history of this truly remarkable event. It is a lot more than guys just riding their bikes around France.

So I will be in to see Jean Marc tomorrow morning probably to see if I can get one of those exquisite cheese brioche rolls right out of the oven like the last time to accompany my extraordinarily strong coffee. He will greet me and drop what he is doing to chat about the crash, the UCI, the French riders who now are making a mark in the Tour. He is proud of his heritage and of his knowledge of cycling. I am glad to have made his acquaintance for many reasons. Vive le Tour!!!!! Thanks for reading. Word Press followers, click on the title to see pictures and video.

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Grillin’

I’ve been warped by the rain
driven by the snow
I’m hot and dirty don’t you know
and I’m still…………….grillin’

My dad taught me the finer points of grilling when I was a young lad. He was a charcoal guy and showed me the lighter fluid/charcoal method and I had my initial ash tray face before I was 13.

Singed eyebrows and burnt hair smell were common in those days as I learned the basics of lighting a fire for the grill. Fast forward to later years when I inherited a grill from a friend. The electric igniter didn’t work and I turned the propane on and stuck a BIC lighting stick in the grill and PRESTO!!! Another blast to the face with a hairless expression.

,’So, Honey, I was thinking, instead of barbecued steaks why don’t we just order in a pizza?’

But I have come a long way since then and now I have a wonderful grill and a nice setting in which to contemplate life and burn some bovine flesh.

So you might ask, ” Well Pat- what have you learned over the years as you have transitioned to a Weber with continuous natural gas feed?” Well may I offer up the following?:

Meat- always cook on medium heat. Pittsburgh rare, which is basically like the charred exterior of a catcher’s mitt, coupled with bloody red and still “mooing” interior, is not optimal. Cooking low and slow is the way to go. It also gives you a chance to catch up on your Facebook and email and enjoy the obligatory grill side beer- like in my Adirondack chair. You can sear steaks, burgers on a higher setting initially to seal the juices in and get the grill marks, but you better put it quickly to medium or you will have a 3 alarm fire in your grill and won’t be able to tell the difference between the burger and the coals. They tell you to use a meat thermometer but I always gently cut into the middle of a test burger or steak and see how it looks. I try not to lose the juices with this inspection but it is the tried and true method.

Fish and shellfish- if the cut of fresh fish has skin, put it skin down right on the grill. Again, low and slow on low to medium heat. Don’t flip it and test as per the meat method. When it is finished, you can slide the filet right off the skin which is left on the grates. That way you don’t have to deal with the skin while eating. Clean the dead skin off the grill later so the varmints don’t get it.

Olive oil and dill is a great preparation for any filet of fish. For anything that does not have skin or shellfish, a piece of foil over the grill with a good marinade will work. Believe it or not, a real nice fresh filet of bluefish or other oily fish can be marinated in gin and cooked on the grill. Amazing how that tempers the strong flavor of oily fish and actually makes it more moist and flavorful. I learned that trick from a crazy man up in Martha’s Vineyard years ago. He was the same guy that almost ran us into a buoy while touting his navigational skills.

Always pay attention. You can get engrossed in a conversation, or Facebook, or email, and the next thing you know the flames are shooting out of the side of the grill and your potential meal has been temperature compromised. Like that proverbial catcher’s mitt. Always check by lifting the lid and testing with your knife. Sipping a cold IPA will always go well and even in the winter, a wool hat, a puffy, quilted jacket, and boots are key elements to year round grilling even in the worst weather. A head lamp in the winter is also key to see exactly what you are doing even when the time change has left your grilling area dark and cold.

Probably the most challenging thing about grilling is the fickle nature of your family or guests and how they like their meal prepared on the grill. ” I like mine pink, but not red. A little pink, you know, not bloody, but not too well done. Can you do it a little pink? I don’t like it rare, but I don’t want it done too well.” What the hell????? Some pieces have to be moved to the upper grill so as not to get too well done while you are waiting for the others to finish cooking. The juggling around the grill is a true art which is learned by trial and error and lots of previous criticism from family and friends.

Chicken- always pounded flat. Or as they say here, pahhhhhhnded flat. Marinated overnight in Good Seasons Italian dressing is preferred.

Pork- forget it. Too dry no matter what you do. Don’t let anyone tell you different. Cook pork inside in a roaster.

Buns- must always be toasted on the grill with the exception of really fresh ones. Inside of the bun down on the grill and not too long. Just enough to get the grill marks. Otherwise, you can remove them and throw them at the neighbor’s dog.

If all else fails, have the local pizza shop number handy. Grilling is an art that is acquired with a lot of trial and error.

Well I’ve been kicked by the wind,
robbed by the sleet
Had my head stoved in
But I’m still on my feet
And I’m still…………grillin’

Thanks for reading and don’t burn yourself.

Lyric butchering courtesy/apologies to Little Feat, Apple Music, and Emmy Lou.