hope

with a little vision from my better half (who always seems to see things in my photos I miss) and a bit of photoshop magic, I was able to turn my cliche lonely bench series into something that brought the word "hope" to mind. some color in an otherwise dreary world.

Brine Recipe

I get asked for my poultry brine recipe a lot... so I thought I'd post it here for quick reference.

I got the original recipe from Alton Brown on FoodTV. Here's the Alton Brown ver (http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/a...ipe/index.html)

When reading through this looks like a bit pain in the you know what. Involved, time consuming etc. But its really not that bad and BOY does it make a huge difference in the way the bird tastes. The bird also gets cooked a lot faster. I can get a 14-16lbs bird done in about 2.5-3 hours. Trust me... I wouldn't lead you astray!

Here's Alton's recipe with my tweaks.. my family loves citrus, so I will often added citrus peel, fruit juice etc... just what we're in the mood for at the time. The sugar and salt are the key bases. Oh and don't worry about there being so much salt.. the bird doesn't taste salty... its part of the chemistry behind brining.

** Stuff between astrix are my .02 worth comments **

Ingredients

• 1 (14 to 16 pound) frozen young turkey

For the brine:

• 1 cup kosher salt ** don't use table salt**
  
• 1/2 cup brown sugar **light or dark doesn't matter from my POV**
  
• 1 gallon vegetable or chicken stock
• 1 tablespoon black peppercorns
• 1 tablespoon allspice berries
• 1/2 tablespoon ground ginger
  
• 1/2 tablespoon orange or lemon zest
• 1 teaspoon coriander seeds
• 1 gallon iced liquid (mostly water, some fruit juice...apple, orange)

For the aromatics:

• 1 apple (red or green), cut in quarters
  
• 1 onion, cut in quarters ** I've used Shallots before **
  
• 2 cinnamon sticks
• 1/2 cup water
• 4 sprigs rosemary
• 6 leaves sage
• Canola or Olive oil

Directions

Combine all brine ingredients, except ice water, in a stockpot, and bring to a boil. Stir to dissolve solids, then remove from heat, cool to room temperature, and refrigerate until thoroughly chilled. **when I'm in a rush, I let it cool down, but don't completely chill it. I just use all ice rather than just ice water for next step. The key is to get the liquid to below 40 degrees.. don't want beasties started**

Early on the day of cooking, (or late the night before) combine the brine and ice water in a clean 5-gallon bucket. ** I've brinded for 2-3 days. I just put a clean plastic trash bag into a cooler, put the brine and turkey the bag, tight it up and keep it iced down. The key is keeping it under 40 degrees. If you have a room the fridge, even better/easier..... back to Alton ... ** Place thawed turkey breast side down in brine, cover, and refrigerate or set in cool area (like a basement) for 6 hours. Turn turkey over once, half way through brining.
Before roasting, heat oven to 500 degrees. Combine the apple, onion, cinnamon sticks, and cup of water in a microwave safe dish and microwave on high for 3 minutes. **I don't always microwave...sometimes I just throw the pieces in the bird... microwave will get things moving sooner, but not critical **
Remove bird from brine and rinse inside and out with cold water. Discard brine.
Place bird on roasting rack inside wide, low pan and pat dry with paper towels. Add steeped aromatics to cavity along with rosemary and sage. Tuck back wings and coat whole bird liberally with oil. ** don't skip this step.. if you don't oil up the bird, you don't get the crispy skin everyone fights over...or the chef gets to pick at**


Roast on lowest level of the oven at 500 degrees F. for 30 minutes. Remove from oven and cover breast with double layer of aluminum foil, insert probe thermometer into thickest part of the breast and return to oven, reducing temperature to 350 degrees F. Set thermometer alarm (if available) to 161 degrees. A 14 to 16 pound bird should require a total of 2 to 2 1/2 hours of roasting. Let turkey rest, loosely covered for 15 minutes before carving.





** 161 freaked me out at first.. isn't that too low for a bird?!?... Whiles it resting it finishes coasting up and its turned out just right every time... not over done and juicy!! **

**I've cut the brine recipe in half for doing 2 roasting chickens or 4 game hens **

Song of Songs

I've been in a bit of a funk the last month or so. I tripped across this verse today and it really hit the "spot"

See! The winter is past;
the rains are over and gone.

Flowers appear
on the earth;
the season of singing
has come,
the cooing of doves
is heard in our land.

The fig tree forms
its early fruit;
the blossoming vines
spread their fragrance.

Arise, come, my darling;
my beautiful one,
come with me."

(Song of Songs 2:11-13 NIV)

Christmas 1881

Pa never had much compassion for the lazy or those who squandered their
means and then never had enough for the necessities. But for those
who were genuinely in need, his heart was as big as all outdoors.
It was from him that I learned the greatest joy in life comes from
giving, not from receiving.
It was Christmas Eve 1881. I was fifteen years old and feeling
like the world had caved in on me because there just hadn't been enou gh
money to buy me the rifle that I'd wanted for Christmas. We did
the chores early that night for some reason. I just figured Pa
wanted a little extra time so we could read in the Bible.
>
After supper was over I took my boots off and stretched out in front of
the fireplace and waited for Pa to get down the old Bible. I was
still feeling sorry for myself and, to be honest, I wasn't in much of
a mood to read Scriptures. But Pa didn't get the Bible, instead he
bundled up again and went outside. I couldn't figure it out because we
had already done all the chores. I didn't worry about it long though. I
was too busy wallowing in self-pity. Soon Pa came back in. It
was a cold clear night out and there was ice in his beard.
"Come on, Matt," he said. "Bundle up good, it's cold out tonight."
I was really upset then. Not only wasn't I getting the rifle for
Christmas, now Pa was dragging me out in the cold, and for no earthly
reason that I could see. We'd already done all the chores, and I
couldn't think of anything else that needed doing, especially not on a
night like this. But I knew Pa was not very patient at one dragging
one's feet when he'd told them to do something, so I got up and
put my boots back on and got my cap, coat, and mittens. Ma gave me
a mysterious smile as I opened the door to leave the house. Something
was up, but I didn't know what.
>
Outside, I became even more dismayed. There in front of the house was
the work team, already hitched to the big sled. Whatever it was we
were going to do wasn't going to be a short, quick, little job. I
could tell. We never hitched up this sled unless we were going to haul a
big load. Pa was already up on the seat, reins in hand. I
reluctantly climbed up beside him. The cold was already biting at
me. I wasn't happy. When I was on, Pa pulled the sled around the
house and stopped in front of the woodshed. He got off and I
followed. "I think we'll put on the high sideboards," he said. Here,
help me." The high sideboards! It had been a bigger job than I
wanted to do with just the low sideboards on, but whatever it was we
were going to do would be a lot bigger with the high side boards on.
>
After we had exchanged the sideboards, Pa went into the woodshed and
came out with an armload of wood - the wood I'd spent all summer hauling
down from the mountain, and then all Fall sawing into blocks and
splitting. What was he doing? Finally I said something.
"Pa," I asked, "what are you doing?"
"You been by the Widow Jensen's lately?" he asked.
The Widow Jensen lived about two miles down the road. Her husband had
died a year or so before and left her with three children, the oldest
being eight. Sure, I'd been by, but so what?
>
Yeah," I said, "Why?"
>
"I rode by just today," Pa said. "Little Jakey was out digging around in
the woodpile trying to find a few chips. They're out of wood, Matt."
That was all he said and then he turned and went back into the
woodshed for another armload of wood. I followed him. We loaded the
sled so high that I began to wonder if the horses would be able to pull
it. Finally, Pa called a halt to our loading, then we went to the
smoke house and Pa took down a big ham and a side of bacon. He handed
them to me and told me to put them in the sled and wait. When he
returned he was carrying a sack of flour over his right shoulder and a
smaller sack of something in his left hand.
"What's in the little sack?" I asked.
"Shoes, they're out of shoes. Little Jakey just had gunny sacks
wrapped around his feet when he was out in the woodpile this morning.
I got the children a little candy too. It just wouldn't be Christmas
without a little candy."
We rode the two miles to Widow Jensen's pretty much in silence. I
tried to think through what Pa was doing. We didn't have much by
worldly standards. Of course, we did have a big woodpile, though
most of what was left now was still in the form of logs that I w ould
have to saw into blocks and split before we could use it. We also had
meat and flour, so we could spare that, but I knew we didn't have any
money, so why was Pa buying them shoes and candy? Really, why was
he doing any of this? Widow Jensen had closer neighbors than us; it
shouldn't have been our concern.
>
We came in from the blind side of the Jensen house and unloaded the wood
as quietly as possible then, we took the meat and flour and shoes to the
door. We knocked. The door opened a crack and a timid voice
said, "Who is it?"
"Lucas Miles, Ma'am, and my son, Matt, could we come in for a bit?"
>
Widow Jensen opened the door and let us in. She had a blanket wrapped
around her shoulders. The children were wrapped in another and were
sitting in front of the fireplace by a very small fire that
hardly gave off any heat at all. Widow Jensen fumbled with a match
and finally lit the lamp.
>
"We brought you a few things, Ma'am," Pa said and set down the sack of
flour. I put the meat on the table. Then Pa handed her the sack
that had the shoes in it. She opened it hesitantly and took
the shoes out one pair at a time. There was a pair for her and one
for each of the children - sturdy shoes, the best, shoes that would
last. I watched her carefully. She bit her lower lip to keep it
from trembling and then tears filled her eyes and started running down
her cheeks. She looked up at Pa like she wanted to say something, but
it wouldn't come out.
>
"We brought a load of wood too, Ma'am," Pa said. He turned to me and
said, "Matt, go bring in enough to last awhile. Let's get that fire
up to size and heat this place up." I wasn't the same person when I
went back out to bring in the wood. I had a big lump in my throat and as
much as I hate to admit it, there were tears in my eyes too. In my
mind I kept seeing those three kids huddled around the fireplace and
their mother standing there with tears running down her cheeks with so
much gratitude in her heart that she couldn't speak.
>
My heart swelled within me and a joy that I'd never known before filled
my soul. I had given at Christmas many times before, but never when
it had made so much difference. I could see we were
literally saving the lives of these people.
>
I soon had the fire blazing and everyone's spirits soared. The kids
started giggling when Pa handed them each a piece of candy and Widow
Jensen looked on with a smile that probably hadn't crossed her
face for a long time. She finally turned to us.
"God bless you," she said. "I know the Lord has sent you. The
children and I have been praying that he would send one of his angels to
spare us."

In spite of myself, the lump returned to my throat and the tears welled
up in my eyes again. I'd never thought of Pa in those exact terms
before, but after Widow Jensen mentioned it I could see that it was
probably true. I was sure that a better man than Pa had never walked
the earth. I started remembering all the times he had gone out of his
way for Ma and me, and many others. The list seemed endless as I
thought on it.

Pa insisted that everyone try on the shoes before we left. I was
amazed when they all fit and I wondered how he had known what sizes to
get. Then I guessed that if he was on an errand for the Lord
that the Lord would make sure he got the right sizes.

Tears were running down Widow Jensen's face again when we stood up to
leave. Pa took each of the kids in his big arms and gave them a
hug. They clung to him and didn't want us to go. I could see that
they missed their Pa, and I was glad that I still had mine.

At the door Pa turned to Widow Jensen and said, "The Mrs. wanted me to
invite you and the children over for Christmas dinner tomorrow. The
turkey will be more than the three of us can eat, and a man can get
cantankerous if he has to eat turkey for too many meals. We'll be by
to get you about eleven. It'll be nice to have some little ones
around again. Matt, here, hasn't been little for quite a spell." I
was the youngest. My two brothers and two sisters had all married
and had moved away.

Widow Jensen nodded and said, "Thank you, Brother Miles. I don't have
to say, May the Lord bless you, I know for certain that He will."
Out on the sled I felt a warmth that came from deep within and I didn't
even notice the cold. When we had gone a ways, Pa turned to me and
said, "Matt, I want you to know something. Your ma and me have been
tucking a little money away here and there all year so we could buy that
rifle for you, but we didn't have quite enough. Then yesterday a man who
owed me a little money from years back came by to make things square.
Your ma and me were real excited, thinking that now we could get you
that rifle, and I started into town this morning to do just that, but on
the way I saw little Jakey out scratching in the woodpile with his feet
wrapped in those gunny sacks and I knew what I had to do. Son, I
spent the money for shoes and a little candy for those children. I
hope you understand."

I understood, and my eyes became wet with tears again. I understood
very well, and I was so glad Pa had done it. Now the rifle seemed very
low on my list of priorities. Pa had given me a lot more. He had
given me the look on Widow Jensen's face and the radiant smiles of her
three children.
For the rest of my life, whenever I saw any of the Jensens, or split a
block of wood, I remembered, and remembering brought back that same joy
I felt riding home beside Pa that night. Pa had given me much more
than a rifle that night, he had given me the best Christmas of my life.

Cowboy Christmas Prayer

I think its time to breath some new life into this weblog. I've been able to get out and shoot some more photos. I will get on those posted shortly after the new year. In the mean time, here's something to get you into the Christmas spirit...

A COWBOY'S CHRISTMAS PRAYER
By S. Omar Barker (1894-1985)

I ain't much good at prayin', and You may not know me, Lord-
I ain't much seen in churches where they preach Thy Holy Word,
But you may have observed me out here on the lonely plains,
A-lookin' after cattle, feelin' thankful when it rains,
Admirin' Thy great handiwork, the miracle of grass,
Aware of Thy kind spirit in the way it comes to pass
That hired men on horseback and the livestock we tend
Can look up at the stars at night and know we've got a friend.

So here's ol' Christmas comin' on, remindin' us again
Of Him whose coming brought good will into the hearts of men.
A cowboy ain't no preacher, Lord, but if You'll hear my prayer,
I'll ask as good as we have got for all men everywhere.
Don't let no hearts be bitter, Lord.
Don't let no child be cold.
Make easy beds for them that's sick and them that's weak and old.
Let kindness bless the trail we ride, no matter what we're after,
And sorter keep us on Your side, in tears as well as laughter.

I've seen ol' cows a-starvin, and it ain't no happy sight:
Please don't leave no one hungry, Lord, on thy good Christmas night-
No man, no child, no woman, and no critter on four feet-
I'll aim to do my best to help You find 'em chuck to eat.

I'm just a sinful cowpoke, Lord-ain't got no business prayin'-
But still I hope You'll ketch a word or two of what I'm sayin':
We speak of Merry Christmas, Lord-I reckon you'll agree
There ain't no Merry Christmas for nobody that ain't free.
So one thing more I'll ask You, Lord: Just help us what you can
To save some seeds of freedom for the future sons of man.

out of photos

Well, I never thought I could say this, but I'm out of good photos to post. *sigh*. I haven't had time to get out and get some new stuff. What a delima.

For now, I will leave you with another saying just so you know I'm still around.

A good snapshot stops a moment from running away. ~Eudora Welty

random saying ...

I haven't had time to follow my own philosophy the last week.... life has just been too crazy. My camera goes with me, I'm just zooming by too fast to see the wonders around me.... so for now, I will leave you with a random saying...


A photograph is usually looked at - seldom looked into. ~Ansel Adams