BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

Yo and stuff…

So, I just got back from Ohio… Yes, I went back to Ohio, but the city was still there… Not MY city, but then my name isn’t Chrissy, and I’m not pretending, so hey… (Hopefully everyone is getting that reference… If not…well…I guess I’m just showing my age again…)

Anywho, I was in Ohio for the First Annual Earth Warriors Festival. This fantastic gig was organized by Heather of Violet Flame Gifts in Newark, OH, and an amazing staff of folks who worked their tails off and hearts out to make sure the fest was a rousing success… They had a great turnout for a first time festival, and what was even more impressive was the fact that after the remnants of Ike tore up their original venue, this incredible crew managed to find a new venue and have it ready to go, all in the matter of two weeks. And, even with the last minute change they drew in a more than respectable crowd.

The first night was pretty much staff and presenter time, with all of us hanging out around the bonfire telling stories and having a few drinks. Due to the size of the venue, they had rented some golf carts for the staff to use – mainly to shuttle folks around, carry excess stuff, and be able to respond quickly to needs or situations. Well… as we know, when Morrison and I get together there can be some mischief. We happened to be standing on the back patio of the dining hall after supper and I was pacing around looking at the area. Upon peering around the corner of the building I saw a golf cart sitting there. Thinking it might be one of the staff folks I wandered around to say hey and visit for a bit. However, all I found was the golf cart… The problem here is that it still had the keys in it, as well as a radio tuned to the staff channel. Apparently the driver was inside the dining hall doing whatever… Anyway, I motioned Morrison over and then next thing you know we had committed Grand Theft Golfcart.

Fortunately for us the staff – and Heather – found this amusing. In fact, at one point, after appropriating a paper chef’s hat from the dining hall and fitting it to my head, Heather and I raced about the site in the cart, her swinging a large plastic stirring paddle, and we “cooked up some trouble”… There are supposed to be pictures… I’ll see if I can get my hands on them.

Day two found us doing a seminar to a wonderful group of attendees, meeting up with George Knowles – owner of Controverscial.com, and generally hanging out. That evening there was a rousing concert around the bonfire with the Dragon Ritual Drummers. They are a great group of guys out of Canada, and they can definitely pound out some killer beats. We had a funny moment with them earlier in the day – Morrison and I had just stumbled out of the presenters cabin and were having a cup of coffee before heading off to our respective shower houses. The DRD guys walked by and I commented that they looked much brighter and awake than we did. They replied, “That’s because we’re Canadian.”

Day three brought us back around to another seminar with a great group of attendees, followed by a book signing and hanging out with folks – including the Pie-Rats (well, that’s what I call them)… The pirate camp was a blast, and there was plenty of “Yarring” and official Grog to go around. Morrison and I were also fortunate enough to share the presenter cabin with Wendy Rule and her son Reuben. They were absolutely lovely folks who were great to hang out with, and Wendy put on a killer concert Saturday night with Reuben accompanying on the accordion. Haunting stuff and the whole crowd was mesmerized.

Throughout the entire fest, Silver the Kitchen Witch, was doing everything in her power to kill us – By that I mean she was cooking up a storm and everything was so fantastic we just kept eating, even when we weren’t hungry. So we pretty much ate until we burst. Not only were there three huge and fantastic meals each day, but on top of that there was a hospitality cabin where we could go to kick back, and Silver and her staff kept it stocked with all manner of munchies – Crudites, chips, M&M’s, coffee, antipasto platters, and some absolutely killer meatballs… These meatballs were so good that when I went in for a cup of coffee and smelled them I said to myself, “hey, I gotta try one of these…” Well, it didn’t stop there. Before I knew it “one of these” had turned into a half dozen…

So, if all that weren’t enough I got to hang out with Heather, her husband Max, Phelina, Kira, Kim, Alan, Ron, Bill & Maxine, the pirates, and a whole ton of other good friends whom I hadn’t seen in quite a while…

Now, that was the good… (Actually, it was the great!) … What about the bad and the fuglee…

Well, it certainly wasn’t possible for the universe to allow me that much fun without slapping me in the back of the head… It seems that every single time I fly out of Columbus, OH, I end up getting delayed and this trip was no different. It all started a month or so back when they changed my straight through flight to one with a connection in Chicago. Then, yesterday I went to the airport a little early with Morrison so that the festival folks wouldn’t have to make two trips to the airport. I figured I could occupy myself for that extra couple of hours no problem… But after I got Morrison on her plane and away, I kicked back to relax and soon discovered that my flight was getting more and more delayed according to the monitors… Well, eventually I had to see a gate agent to have my flight changed in Chicago because I wasn’t going to arrive there in time to make the connection… Well, they got me on the first thing out of there with seats, but I still ended up not getting home until around 10:30 last night. So, from around 11:30 AM yesterday until 10:30 PM last night, I was either in the air or in an airport. I actually could have driven and been home sooner…

But, oh well. That’s just one of those things and I blame American Airlines for it…

So, now I have to wash clothes and re-pack. Thursday I fly out for DC and Morrison & I start off on the book release tour. Hopefully I’ll be able to check in from the road…

More to come…

Murv

It doesn’t take Rowan Gant’s clairvoyant abilities to know that a good parcel of you are now thinking, “Eeeewwwwwwwww!” And, a whole raft of you who are thinking such are also involuntarily saying it aloud as well. Just like you would be if the title had been Chitterlings (that’s properly pronounced Chit’lins, mind you), brain sandwiches, or a whole host of other organ meat based delicacies.

Not much I can do about that except to say, don’t knock it until you try it. If you’ve tried it (any of the above, PROPERLY prepared) and you still didn’t care for it, well, at least you tried so I respect your opinion. (Even though it’s wrong.)

You see, I’m sure my love of such foods has something to do with my farm upbringing. Where I come from you don’t cut the prime rib and tenderloins out of a bull/cow, and then leave the rest for the turkey vultures. We used everything. Meaning, everything… Whether it was Chitlin’s, Brains, or an entire head boiled down to make Head Cheese. Didn’t matter. We used it.

We even rendered out all the fat to cook with and also to make lye soap.

Now, on the note of Head Cheese, I’ll admit to not being a big fan. I’ve had it on several occasions. It’s not bad, but also not my favorite thing in the world– probably because I still have memories of my grandmother boiling a hog’s head to make it. Not a pretty- nor particularly wonderful smelling – process, trust me.

But, back to Liver and Onions… This happens to be one of my favorite all-time meals. I’ve always loved it. Even as a child. I suppose part of that could be the fact that until I was an adult and ordered it in a big city restaurant I had always been served PROPERLY prepared Liver and Onions. Since that horrible incident I’ve been careful not to order it in the big city. Diners in small southern towns, well that’s a different story. But mostly I make it at home, preparing it exactly the way I learned to do it from my mother, grandmother, and grandfather…

Speaking of my grandfather, his name was Elvis. Yes Elvis, although his last name was Babb, not Presley. He wasn’t much of a singer, but he could play the harmonica like nobody’s business. I actually have a recording of him that I made a few months before he died. At that point he had emphysema, but he could still make that harp talk. (On that note, I also have the harmonica and it is displayed in our curio cabinet, but that was a different blog I wrote a year or so back)… But, let’s move on… Elvis Babb owned a diner in the small Kentucky town where I was born. While the diner was gone before I was really old enough to know better I do have memories of toddling around in it. But, more importantly I still watched my grandfather cook at home. I may have only been in my high single digits and low double digits – he crossed over when I was 11 or so – but I still learned a whole raft of things from him about cooking, probably because where I come from food is love. Food is comfort.

And, we all want love and comfort.

Now, one of the interesting things about preparing something properly is that sometimes – not always, but sometimes – a person who had the dish and hated it will try it again, done correctly, and love it. Such is the case with my wife. She hated Liver and Onions. I can remember the first time I fixed it (I do all the cooking in our house) back when we were first married some twent-cough-cough years ago. She had this horribly crestfallen look on her face and I could see that she was gearing herself up for choking it down so as to not hurt my feelings. After the first bite, however, her expression changed. Now, it is one of her favorites as well.

At any rate, prior to my father crossing over in 2003, I used to try timing my Liver and Onion dinners with his trips through Saint Louis. (He had a house here, but more or less lived in Kentucky and since he was retired, traveled extensively). I would time it that way because Dad loved Liver and Onions too. Even if he couldn’t make it to the house for the actual dinner, I made sure there was a “take out” container for him.

I just made Liver and Onions for supper Monday. As is customary – nay, IMPERATIVE – it was served with a big ass bowl of mashed potatoes and buttered green peas. Life was good.

Since Dad is no longer around, there were some leftovers. I just killed those off a few minutes ago… (Yeah, Liver and Onions for breakfast. I’m sure Edain would be appalled LOL! – note: Ask Edain McCoy about her impression of my morning eating habits and that joke will make sense.)

Honestly, I’d just as soon have Dad back and give the leftovers to him, but since that isn’t going to happen, I figured I should at least enjoy them in his place.

And I did.

More to come…

Murv