sok's attempt to burn his hands

Finished my first generation of hot sauces...

I haven't named them yet. I'm looking to include a reference to my Mexican grandma, a personified jalapeno, maybe a burning ass... but I haven't quite decided on my motif. 
Inspiration for said venture must be given his due, in my almost always willing to try anything son Garrett. He generally tilts his head down, looks to see if I'm about to steer him wrong, and then dives right in, part food-adventurer, part machismo in a world of NYC-salsa sisters.

One sensory-overwhelming trip to the Dekalb Farmers Market later, a few glances at online recipes, a bit of this and that, and we've created the first generation of hot sauces. Three versions, using Cayenne (recipe A), Poblano (B), and Anaheim Green chiles (C). 

Each of the kids, in turn, responded that the results looked more like salsa than hot sauce. They were not pureed fine enough for their FDA-labeling standards. Told them to 'shut-it', and enjoy the taste. 

The Poblano is the best-tasting. With this one, I roasted the skins ahead of time. I don't know if the roasting or the chile put it ahead, but it is rather enjoyable. It will be a staple at the table for while it lasts.

Time will tell if we enjoy or ignore this adventure. It was a fun afternoon with Garrett, and I was able to experience burning fingers for the next 36 hours; that's got to be worth something.

PS - do not confuse the Anaheim Green with the New Mexico Hatch Green. Or, if you do confuse it, don't confess such to me. I don't want to be party to the heresy.

Texas Roadhouse, Tacloban Franchise

Samaritan's Purse is utilizing the property of the former Oriental Hotel (adjacent to MacArthur Landing Park) as a warehouse storage property. The current state of the property prevents its use for much else.
A few of the kinder-hearted ladies here among the volunteers set up dinner for everyone, along the beach, with carols and prayer.
Dinner was catered by Steve from go-big-or-go-home Houston, Texas, who runs the local Texas Roadhouse. Steve lost a part of his restaurant, all of his Expat customers, but seems to be confident that he'll make it through this intact.
Traditional Christmas dinner: burgers, corn dogs, cole slaw, cucumber salad, onion rings and chocolate cake. Don't forget the Coca Cola.

God Made a Farmer

Bowling 2011 Roadtrip, Day 4: KC

Props to Kansas City for recovering from the St. Louis fiasco. Whereas St. Louis reminded me of ATL in 1988, KC was a modern Columbus, GA, clean, vibrant, interesting. I wish the Royals had been on a homestand.

And while I do not care to make a habit of it, KC pulled off gourmet BBQ. As a proper Southerner, I don't see the point in getting all uppity about comfort food. But when in Rome...

Johnny-cake, Johnny-cake, Johnny-cake Roll

That is the title of a old book my dad gave me when I was a kid. I can remember him reading it to me once or twice, and me reading it in my room many times. A country boy named Johnny whose biscuit fell off the table and rolled across the rural landscape, meeting and greeting the old-South along the way. Maybe the cake was named "Johnny"? I loved that book...

... and had forgotten it until yesterday when I see a menu item, "Journey Cake", which my Belizian friend re-pronounced "Johnny Cake", explaining it was like a flat round flour-based item, not sweet, that you eat a breakfast. Sounds familiar.
I ate two Johnny-cakes for breakfast and grabbed two for the plane ride home. There is nothing new under the sun, and the connections between us all are endless.