Wednesday, September 26, 2012

A MODEST REPORT

Today was mostly cloudy, filled with soft light and late in the afternoon a bit of rain. A good day for working at my desk, which is how I spent the majority of the time. A carbon copy of yesterday—desk work, cloudy skies, light rain. Neither day very cool.

Not very autumn-like yet, the weather. Not very autumn-looking hereabouts, either. The river's water is olive green, about at normal level, and most of the leaves on trees along the banks are still dressed in their various shades of chlorophyll green, with just a hint of yellow. Only the woodbine twining up the sycamores has started to add daubs of crimson to it five-leaf clusters. Fall has yet to start working much magic here at the streamside.


But it was probably that merest hint of autumn, along with the cloudy day and the patter of rain on the roof, that made me think of doing fried cabbage for supper. Or maybe it was the huge, bright-green homegrown cabbage head I bought yesterday at the orchard market up the road where I stopped to sample their latest batch of cider (too sweet, I decided, needing more tart in the mix) and picked up a peck of my favorite first-of-the-season honeycrisp apples. 

First I fried up some good hickory-smoked sausage, cut into small chunks, along with about a teaspoon of fresh garlic and a tablespoon of onion, both finely diced, adding maybe a teaspoon of olive oil. I removed the sausage and aromatics from the oil and set them aside in a small dish. Then I sautéd the cabbage. I used half the head, chopped into inch-square bits—adding kosher salt, paprika, and a few red pepper flakes—tossing regularly until tender but not overcooked. At that point the sausage mix went back in, another toss or two, a teaspoon of brown sugar and a good dollop of apple cider vinegar, toss again, and it was finished…and delicious!

In case you're wondering—the carpentry part of my front door project got finished Sunday…well, most of it, the hard, critical work. I still have to add some new trim along the edges of the jambs. And I'm waiting for a warm, sunny day to paint the exterior side; the inside will get new stain and varnish. 

The job proved a real bear, I can tell you. Nothing was plumb or square, and given the way it was originally installed, I couldn't change that without getting into a major renovation. All I could do was make adjustments. Not the way it should be done, but the only way it could be done, given my options and the current state of my finances. However, there were times when I thought the only solution was to chuck the whole thing, rip out the wall, charge the cost of brand new everything to whatever piece of plastic worked, and call in the experts with the proper tools to fix my mess.

I quickly got over that notion. Irish stubbornness and frugality won. They were aided by Myladylove's misplaced faith that I was smart enough and sufficiently competent to overcome any situation…a belief I, shamefully, did nothing to discourage. But it was certainly the motivating factor, and likely the reason I fretted and worried and puzzled over the imbroglio long enough that I finally came up with a scheme that worked. Now, to all but the most critically-discerning eye the door's fit appears perfect—certainly more than good enough to pass inspection by any eyes of those likely to do such examining.

My previously right-hand door now opens from the left—swinging against the wall, out of the way, while keeping with common sense design. Unfortunately, Moon-the-Dog, bless her heart, still goes to the old—now the hinge—side when she's ready to be let out. But she's a smart pooch, and will soon learn to not repeat her error—which is doubtless better than I ought to expect of myself.  

8 comments:

AfromTO said...

Mmmm sounds good-I love reading about your culinary concoctions-it gives me ideas-I now want some sausage and cabbage.I have never added sugar to cabbage-we always added tomato sauce.Boy you should rent yourself out as a cooking husband.

Grizz………… said...

AfromTO…

For sautéed cabbage, any sort of pork—bacon (thick-sliced), sausage, etc.—works perfectly. The pairing seems made for one another. I often thin-slice, almost "shoestring"—a bit of pork roast or some pork steaks, and use that, adding either a few drops of liquid smoke seasoning or smoked salt, which I make. (Resist any notion of smoky condiments such as barbecue sauce, smoky or not!) As to the brown sugar, you only use a little—less than a teaspoon in the amount of cabbage you'd fix as the main entrée for two. There's no real sweetness, just a "brightening" and melding of the dish. I also like to chop up an apple and sauté that in the mix. Pork and apples are another great match on their own…and can go into a fried cabbage dish wonderfully. A great savory addition.

Now, when you add tomato sauce, you're taking the dish in an entirely different direction. Not wrong or bad, just different—maybe more Eastern influenced, and possibly—though not necessarily—spicier.

Re. your last suggestion…I expect, even if it were possible given a fickle market, renting myself out as a "cooking husband" would present its own survival challenges on the homefront. I probably couldn't charge a high enough fee to cover my medical expenses.

Carolyn H said...

Grizz: Your first photo looks about how the state of my woods is at the moment. The color change has started but it's not very far along and certainly not far enough along to be interesting. Someone else was just mentioning about how the woods seems a bit boring right now. I tend to agree.

Grizz………… said...

Carolyn…

Personally, I don't think of the woods as currently looking boring, but more shopworn and kind of faded—like it was used up is tired out from the long season of green growth. I rather enjoy ambling about and trying to see those first telltale clues of the changing seasons. I do notice when looking downstream today that the yellowing has increased since yesterday—so the color is coming, albeit slowly, though to what extent the peak will look like given the summer's heat and drought, is anyone's guess.

KGMom said...

Two thoughts--I love fried cabbage. Not something I have ever made, mind, but something I order when I find it on a restaurant menu.
And, be careful not to walk into the wrong side of the door yourself. Habits are hard to break--especially those which have been embedded in muscle memory.

Grizz………… said...

KGMom…

I never cared much, one way or the other, about fried cabbage during my growing up. Mom fixed it occasionally, but plain, as a side dish—just a bit of salt and pepper and no added meat. And she cooked it way more than I do, till the chopped leaves were pale and soft. So I pretty much ignored the dish. But somewhere in my late-twenties I discovered it as an entrée…and have been doing variations ever since. It's simple, quick, and delicious—and I love it! And everyone else seems to love the dish, too. I've taught several friends and family members how to fix it over the years. Peasant food at its best!

Moon-the-Dog is still going to the wrong side of the door. I don't, simply because the old way was so illogical and unhandy. But you're right on muscle memory—those habits are hard to break. And the opposite is why, as a musician, when I was learning new runs and chordings on the piano or guitar, I would do it over and over and over, long past the point of merely knowing the right series of notes or chords—particularly some of the rather odd harmonic accompanying chords you might use to counter the melody line when playing jazz piano. I needed to establish that muscle memory—which, once programmed, allowed you the freedom to split that off from having to concentrate on both hands simultaneously. Same thing with learning to flycast—so you can forget about the mechanics of the presentation and keep focused on the variations of the river's current between you and the fish and the way your fly is floating, preventing "drag," and being ready when the trout rises to your offering.

Jayne said...

It's almost a joke in our house that each time we think we'll just make a few changes, we unearth shoddy construction underneath. Like you said, no plumb walls or true 90 degree angles...lol. Glad you got the project completed with all the sweat equity it entailed. :c)

Grizz………… said...

Jayne…

Trust me, the matter is even worse having grown up as the son of a perfectionist finish carpenter, a.k.a. wood artist. While I inherited Dad's perfectionism, his workworking skills…not so much. But the desire and self-expectation of such a quality standard remains, inherent in every project I tackle. AND, in the work of others. To me, shoddy work is disrespectful, near-criminal, and probably a sin.

Other than that…I'm easygoing. :-)