Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Big Winds of Change, I'm Coming Up & Oreo Ice Cream Cake

Goodness is the only investment that never fails.”
Henry David Thoreau

February 24, 25, 26th . . . 
Song: "I’m Coming Out" by Diana Ross 

The Wisconsin Saga continues:  Between the one bar receptivity that I have been using to pirate off of somebody else’s internet and the consecutive string of Brandy laced nights, I haven’t exactly had the ability, or neurons, to bust out my daily journal.  Henceforth, part two of my time here in Winter Wonderland.
Fried Bluegill, 2 pieces of Fried Chicken, 14 Barbecued Pork Ribs, 3 slices of Prime Rib . . . all you can eat for sixteen bucks.  Kneut’s Bar & Grille in Oxffordville was our dining destination and it proved to be well worth the backwoods drive (which really wasn’t that inconvenient as the Suburban was loaded with an ice chest overflowing with Coors Light cans). The Boyz & I took turns whacking on this Boxing machine that registered your punch indicating whether you were a wimp or a superman.  I passed the butch factor.  We traversed through a few bars and ended up settling in at “the Nite Owl” for our final stretch.  A veteran of the post hangover, I switched out “the Silver Bullet” for $5 Patron tequila shots accompanied with a glass of water . . I was the last man standing!  Ok, my insomnia had something to do with that but none the less, I remain the champion of that which nobody should attempt.

You know you’re a redneck when:
  • 1.)    You shed is bigger than your house
  • 2.)    You buy your Coors Light beer by the pallet
  • 3.)    You have more than 10 dead animals hanging from your walls
  • 4.)    Your spittoon is a customized cup with pictures of your kids
  • 5.)    Your favorite color is “camouflage”  
  • 6.)    Your truck is bigger than your Suburban
  • 7.)    You don’t dump your garbage, you burn it!
  • 8.)    You possess more than 3 chest freezers stuffed full of deceased wildlife
  • 9.)    Your backseat driver doubles as a bartender
  • 10. You’ve named your rifles, shotguns & handguns after South Park Characters

Coincidentally, all of the above definitions of a Redneck are applicable when describing Brother Andy.  Coincidentally, I didn’t exactly feel up to par the next day either . . but I pushed on through as it was Uncle Scotty time with my adorable nieces.   We built a Snow Sea Turtle and finagled the construction of Mommy’s Ice Cream Cake layered with chocolate cake, Oreo chocolate mousse and brandy induced gelato.  I think I put too much brandy in the ice cream as it was inclined to melt rather quickly causing the cakes to slide before I was able to properly encase the decadent layers in chocolate ganache . . or perhaps, I was moving to damn slow.  Oh, my head hurt something fierce.  I considered a Bloody Beer; perhaps it could repair last night’s voluminous consumption of booze, doubtful . . but I went ahead with it anyways.

My father picked me up sometime between “wicked degradation” and “complete uselessness”  Some how I mustered up the ability to bust out a delicious Pork Roast nurtured by a Leinkugels Apple Spice Lager, star anise, fennel seed and fresh ginger accompanied by a Graverstein Apple Chutney and a little Wild Rocket salad.  I know what you’re thinking  . . . now, did you forego all rationale and elect to pick up the bottle of Sailor Jerry.  Why, of course I did!  Stupid, stupid, stupid . . . extending your hangover is not really anything to be proud of, but we Wagner’s have an inescapable ability to enrapture ourselves with this unchallenged quest of endurance.  And no, I’m not referring to cross-country running skills.

It’s Tuesday afternoon and I’ve yet to make my homemade walleye “fish sticks”  Glancing over Monday, I can tell you that I enjoyed a fried burger at “the Main Tap” with a side of fried cheese curds washed down by a Capital Brew dark lager.  I can tell you that I secured my next foot forward as the Regional Event Manager for 24 Carrots Catering & Events.  I can tell you that at “Toby’s” you order your dinner at the bar and drink brandy old fashioned’s until you are sat at a table adorned with your salads drenched in homemade ranch, rolls with unlimited amounts of butter, a crudités plate, dill pickle spears and frosty cinnamon buns.  In due time, your meet arrives bleeding back up at you, with what else – more starch & butter.  How much?  $10.95 per person which would be a totally steal if we hadn’t each drunk $30 worth of alcohol!  The bill arrives with a complimentary Kit Kat, Butterfinger & Reeses!  And you wonder why Wisconsin holds the title as the #1 state of obesity?

Looking at the keyboard is much more satisfying than looking at my belly which has swollen a few inches since my arrival here.  Might as well throw down a recipe that indoctrinates the philosophy of storing fat! I give you: the ice cream cake.

With Culinary Blessings,
                    Chef Scotty

Oreo Ice Cream Cake

Now, this isn’t exactly what I did . . nope!  I bit off more than I could chew making my own ice cream, baking an actual cake then slicing it and attempting to make two ice cream layers stacked between two Oreo ganache layers  . . all whilst a little gnome was clinging to the inside of ear drum and performing his own variation of  the aria "Der Holle Rache" from Mozart's "Die Zauberflote"  Cool whip can also be added to the ice cream mixture for a softer transition . . you're teeth have enough on their plate with fighting sugar induced cavities!

Ingredients:

Directions:
  1. Crush 25 cookies; pat down in 9x13-inch pan.
  2. Melt chocolate in double boiler
  3. Add the margarine
  4. Add beaten eggs a little at a time and powdered sugar.
  5. Stir until warm and fudgy (do not boil).
  6. Spread over cookie crust.
  7. Freeze 30 minutes.
  8. Cut ice cream into sections and place in pan.
  9. Softened ice cream works best.
  10. Use a rubber spatula to smooth out top.
  11. Sprinkle remaining cookie crumbs on top.
  12. Freeze at least 2 hours, until solid.
  13. Cut and serve.


Monday, February 27, 2012

Washing Down in Wisconsin & Country Fried Chicken Goodness


“Most of the luxuries and many of the so-called comforts of life are not only not indispensable, but positive hindrances to the elevation of mankind.”
Henry David Thoreau

February 22nd & 23rd, 2012

I look like a dragqueen beaten by a Grizzly Bear, dragged through the remnants of last nights Mardi-Gras festivities, dunked in an evening of tossing in turning . . . my insomnia won this round yet again.  Some things never change, at least the coffee is a drastic improvement here at Chateau Wagner.  Ok, you’re right.  It’s more like an Austrian bungalow decorated in minimalistic contemporary fashion by a Midwestern interior designer that was unfortunate enough to fall in love with a Wisconsinite and begrudgingly forced to move here following their Stanford graduation ceremony.    It snowed last night.  Six inches of fluffy, iridescent, Oxiclean white snow.  The surrounding Red Oaks, Slippery Elms, Butternut and White Birch Trees snickering behind their neighboring Conifers backs and whispering to themselves, “We might be stark ass naked for half the year but those evergreen fools have a layer of this white shit on them for just as long!”  I’m tucked away inside safely with the security of two fireplaces roaring away, the coals are still glowing car engine red from last nights bondage by bottle with my Dad.  But I’m jumping ahead of myself . . two days off from the journal, let’s catch up where we left off.

The leg room was more than ample, a window seat with nobody sitting to my left.  Best airline accommodations yet!  Dad splurged the extra $20 to secure me the emergency exit seats.  I ignored the procedural instructions carried out by our steward as my eyes worked from left to right like the long-lost typewriter hell bent on finishing the last two hundred and thirty-four pages of my book.  We touched down mid-afternoon and raced through Milwaukee's modest little airport.  My bad devoid of it’s usual nicotine and stepping out the sliding glass doors, half anticipating the shock of sub-zero weather . . . I was pleasantly surprised.  Not that bad, I was actually able to feel my fingertips even after taking my time my ciggy.   

After snagging my luggage, Dad and I set out on the 894 Interstate Freeway.  The drive to Madison nothing less than conversation and a tore up stomach. Gas. Really bad gas that was trapped within my lower abdominal cavity and only after enduring the pain for what seemed an eternity, I turned to my father and said, “If we don’t pull-over at the next turn off I’m likely to explode, sending fragments of your son all of the interior of your Ford Taurus.”  We pulled over, I bought an over-priced package of Alka-selzer, downed two of the white tablets, purchased a 1400 calorie Magic Bar (white chocolate, milk chocolate & butterscotch chips layered with coconut and a brown sugar-graham cracker crust), then we set back on course for home.

Fast forwarding through the remaining details, we met up with my Brother, Andy, his amazing grace wife, Sharon & their two girls Payton & Taylor.  It was Sharon’s birthday so we went for pizza at a local joint.  Pizza was awesome appropriately drenched in cheese, green olives & crispy apple-wood smoked bacon.  Service was deplorable. The poor high school acne faced girl was working with negative four brain cells and forgot about the kids cheese pizza, my New Glarus “Spotted Cow” Pilsner and . . . I guess the pizza was suppose to be stuffed.  In the end, everything worked out and we parted ways.  Dad, Sailor Jerry and I stayed up pretty late catching up on the times, the lawsuit & family matters.  That crisp star spattered night blended into morning and still somewhat foggy-headed; a consecutive string of bloggless days would lay ahead.  But did we ever kick off our Father & Son Thursday with a good meal, the best f’kin chicken fried steak I’ve ever had. Part 2: the Redneck weekend blog is next . . .

With Culinary Blessings,
                    Chef Scotty
 
Country style Chicken Fried Steak with Gravy

Ingredients
Steak and Gravy:
  • 1 1/2 cups, plus 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
  • 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
  • 8 (4-ounce) tenderized chicken breast (have butcher run them through cubing machine)
  • 1 tablespoon Montreal Steak Blend seasoning
  • 1 teaspoon seasoning salt (such as Lawry’s)
  • 2 cups buttermilk
  • 2/3 cup vegetable oil
  • 1 ½ teaspoons salt
  • 1 quart whole milk
  • 1 or 2 shots of Cream of Sherry
  • 1 bunch green onions, or 1 medium yellow onion, sliced
Basic Biscuits:
  • 1 package yeast
  • 1/2 cup lukewarm water
  • 5 cups all-purpose flour
  • 1 teaspoon baking soda
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 1 tablespoon baking powder
  • 2 tablespoons sugar
  • 3/4 cup solid shortening (recommended: Crisco)
  • 2 cups buttermilk
Directions
Steak and Gravy: Combine 1 1/2 cups flour and 1/4 teaspoon of pepper in a small bowl. Sprinkle each side of the meat with the Montreal Steak & Lawry’s Seasoning then dredge the meat in buttermilk and then flour. Heat 1/2 cup oil in a heavy skillet over medium-high heat. Add 2 or 4 of the cutlets to the hot oil and fry until browned, about 5 to 6 minutes per side. Remove each steak to a paper towel-lined plate to drain. Repeat with the remaining breasts, adding up to 1/4 cup more oil, as needed.
Make the gravy by adding the 2 tablespoons remaining flour to the pan drippings, scraping the bottom with a wooden spoon. Stir in the remaining 1/4 teaspoon pepper, the salt & the sherry. Reduce the heat to medium and cook, stirring frequently, until the flour is medium brown and the mixture is bubbly. Slowly add the whole milk stirring constantly. Return the steaks to the skillet and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Reduce the heat to low, and place the onions on top of the steaks. Cover the pan, and let simmer for 30 minutes.
Biscuits: Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Dissolve yeast in warm water; set aside. Mix dry ingredients together. Cut in shortening. Add yeast and buttermilk and mix well. Turn dough onto lightly floured surface and roll out to desired thickness. Cut with small biscuit cutter and place on greased baking sheet. Bake for 12 minutes or until golden brown.
Split biscuits in half and top with country fried steak and drizzle with gravy.
  • 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
  • 8 (4-ounce) butterflied & tenderized chicken breast
  • 1 tablespoon Montreal Steak Blend seasoning
  • 1 teaspoon seasoning salt (such as Lawry’s)
  • 2 cups buttermilk
  • 2/3 cup vegetable oil
  • 1 ½ teaspoons salt
  • 1 quart whole milk
  • 1 or 2 shots of Cream of Sherry
  • 1 bunch green onions, or 1 medium yellow onion, sliced
Basic Biscuits:
  • 1 package yeast
  • 1/2 cup lukewarm water
  • 5 cups all-purpose flour
  • 1 teaspoon baking soda
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 1 tablespoon baking powder
  • 2 tablespoons sugar
  • 3/4 cup solid shortening (recommended: Crisco)
  • 2 cups buttermilk
Directions
Steak and Gravy: Combine 1 1/2 cups flour and 1/4 teaspoon of pepper in a small bowl. Sprinkle each side of the meat with the Montreal Steak & Lawry’s Seasoning then dredge the meat in buttermilk and then flour. Heat 1/2 cup oil in a heavy skillet over medium-high heat. Add 2 or 4 of the cutlets to the hot oil and fry until browned, about 5 to 6 minutes per side. Remove each steak to a paper towel-lined plate to drain. Repeat with the remaining breasts, adding up to 1/4 cup more oil, as needed.

Make the gravy by adding the 2 tablespoons remaining flour to the pan drippings, scraping the bottom with a wooden spoon. Stir in the remaining 1/4 teaspoon pepper, the salt & the sherry. Reduce the heat to medium and cook, stirring frequently, until the flour is medium brown and the mixture is bubbly. Slowly add the whole milk stirring constantly. Return the steaks to the skillet and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Reduce the heat to low, and place the onions on top of the steaks. Cover the pan, and let simmer for 30 minutes.

Biscuits: Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Dissolve yeast in warm water; set aside. Mix dry ingredients together. Cut in shortening. Add yeast and buttermilk and mix well. Turn dough onto lightly floured surface and roll out to desired thickness. Cut with small biscuit cutter and place on greased baking sheet. Bake for 12 minutes or until golden brown.
Split biscuits in half and top with country fried steak and drizzle with gravy.

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Gumbo to Going Home & Perriwinkle Ponderosa putts under Par!!!!!

“All change is a miracle to contemplate, but it is a miracle which is taking place every instant.”
Henry David Thoreau

February 22nd, 2012
Song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rjFaenf1T-Y  by Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros

It's a dirty brown with a slightly iron oxide look to it, faintly smells like a smoldering pile of Autumn Oak leaves and taste like the cinnamon from great grandma's spice rack that has managed to be passed down through 3 generations - stale as a mo'fo . . . this is the coffee I've been drinking here at my Mamma's in Marco Island . . . and it will not be sorely missed! I’ve been up since 4am, the luggage is packed, ticket confirmed and I’m as ready as I’m ever going to be to set-off for a 42 degree Wisconsin Winter . . .  and that's considered to be subtropical by Cheesehead standards!

Yesterday, I rounded out a rather late start to the day at the The Links Golf Course with my Momma & subsequently paired up with two very pleasant strangers, Rich & June.  June reminded me of a more plump, older version of Jane of “the Jetsons” and Rich . . . . well, Rich was just your typical Marco Island part-time resident, the two hailing from Cleveland, Ohio.  I hadn’t golfed in 3 years and despite owning a set of clubs in back in California; I’ve probably played the non-contact sport all of 10 times in the last 15 years.  A brought an Adam Sandler attitude to the course . . . this disturbed my Mom and several Seniors but I have to admit – I whacked the hell out of that ball and even birdied the 7th hole (that’s 1 less than par, par is the ideal amount of stokes to sink the ball into the hole).  I putted like shit most of the ways and my chip shot was rather oblique, but all things considered I had a good time and although nearly killing the party of four playing in front of us – I managed to miss pegging them by a few yards each time.

The Evenings festivities included a sunset walk t the beach, an over-priced grouper filet from “Cocomo’s” washed down with some four dollar “gut rot tequila” margaritas on the rocks (plus one martini, a bloody mary and more korbel on the rocks) and an enjoyable time whooping my Mother Mary Cleo & Master Dan at “Hand & Foot.”  Then the usually nestling up with “Sonny the Bunny” (the dog) and my Jack Reamer played novel before attempting to bury my exhaustion into a deep, relaxing state of unconsciousness.  That failed.  Insomnia yet again won over my need for sleep and I finally gave in & brewed that miserable excuse for a pot of coffee at 4am.
 
Who knows if I’ll actually survive the flight to Milwaukee?  The plane is likely to be an outdated, hand-me-down puddle jumper.  My head is snapping towards the floor.  A good indictation that I should pack up my labtop and lay horizontal for a few.   I’ll touch up this blog tomorrow night whence my capillaries are less constricted.

With Culinary Blessings,
                Chef Scotty

Gumbo – THIS IS NOT COMPLETE, will touch up manana

Ingredients

  • 1 chicken, skin removed & shredded
  • Salt and pepper
  • 1/4 cup vegetable oil
  • 1 pound sausage of your choice, cut into 1/4-inch slices
  • 1 or 2 smoked ham hocks
  • 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
  • 5 tablespoons margarine
  • 1 large onion, chopped
  • 8 cloves garlic minced
  • 1 green bell pepper, seeded and chopped
  • 3 stalks celery chopped
  • 1/4 cup Worcestershire sauce
  • 1/4 bunch flat leaf parsley, stems and leaves, coarsely chopped, plus chopped leaves for garnish
  • 4 cups hot water
  • 5 beef bouillon cubes
  • 1 (14-ounce can) stewed tomatoes with juice
  • 2 cups frozen sliced okra
  • 4 green onions, sliced, white and green parts
  • 1/2 pound small shrimp, peeled, deveined and cooked

Directions

Season the chicken with salt and pepper. Heat the oil in a heavy bottomed Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Cook the chicken until browned on both sides and remove. Add the sausage and cook until browned, then remove. Sprinkle the flour over the oil, add 2 tablespoons of margarine and cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until brown, about 10 minutes. Let the roux cool.
Return the Dutch oven to low heat and melt the remaining 3 tablespoons margarine. Add the onion, garlic, green pepper and celery and cook for 10 minutes. Add Worcestershire sauce, salt and pepper, to taste and the 1/4 bunch parsley. Cook, while stirring frequently, for 10 minutes. Add 4 cups hot water and bouillon cubes, whisking constantly. Add the chicken and sausage. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat, cover, and simmer for 45 minutes. Add tomatoes and okra. Cover and simmer for 1 hour. Just before serving add the green onions, shrimp and chopped parsley.

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

What it stands for? Jacek Gyllenhaal, D'everglades amuck


“Thus we kept on like true idealists, rejecting the evidence of our senses”
Henry David Thoreau

February 21st, 2012
Song: "What it Stands for" by EMC

It’s my last day here entrapped on Marco Island which will be spent golfing, eating, drinking, playing cards, and reading . . . pretty much what I’ve done for the past two weeks.  Perhaps my dream last night was the most exciting thing yet!  An intimate moment with Jake Gyllenhaal and fine dining on some Ukrainian Salmon & Kobe Beef whilst I and my family were submerged in a Jacuzzi – the family style platter floating table something I’ve never seen before and the Chef, a local San Diegan named Richard Sweeney. Yesterday’s trip to the Everglades was complacent, not sure of any other word in the English dictionary is more appropriate. 
 
Mother Mary Cleo, Master Dan and Myself set out at approximately one o’clock with a preliminary schedule of traversing the scenic HWY 41, Southeast bound for the Everglades.  This should have been a twenty to thirty minute drive depending on how many handicapped seniors were preceding our vehicle. However, amongst the typical marital bickering back and forth, we missed the turnoff for what was to be an airboat ride through the subtropical wetlands otherwise known as “the 10,000 islands” region.  We finally gave up and pulled over to the Visitor Center where there was a 1/8 mile boardwalk through a cypress swamp.  This swamp was as dry as my Mother’s sense of humor but we did see a black snake, bald eagle, turtles, egrets, gar like fish and over fifty alligators basking in the sun.  Old people own Florida and even here blending in amongst the bounty of tourists, both foreign and domestic, the Q-tips outnumbered the youth 17:3 (I use this term loosely here, like anyone under the age of 50). 
   
My expectations having evaporated sometime ago, I really didn’t care about an airboat ride as I was more enthusiastic about this so called shack of a swamp restaurant named Josie’s.  We pulled into the broken limestone gravel parking lot ready for some down home cookin!  I imagined a backwash of culinary greatness and salivated in anticipation of a menu that might showcase such swamp fare as armadillo cutlets, beer battered froglegs, gator chili and roadkill hushpuppies.   The chef would be no more than an inbreed, shirtless hillbilly.  His overalls all but unraveling with a blood and fish gut stained apron wrapped around his scrawny 28” waist.  We might even walk in to find him wiping his nose on his furry armpit, puffing away on a generic brand cigarette perfectly lodged between his chapped lips where there should have been some gangrene colored teeth.  Shouting over the burnt peanut oil filled fryer he might say something like, “Lorraine, what’n dah holy shit  f’kin crap does dis’in scratchin supse to be sayings!”  The kitchen was closed.  The “chef” had left to see the doctor that day, probably an annual appointment to saw off his toenails and sanitize the crevice of his buttocks.  Oh, well.

The highlight of the day was finally seeing this little burrowing owl, no more than the size of a ruby red grapefruit and the rest of the evening was spent learning a new card game called “Hand & Foot.”  My instructors divulging only partial pieces of the rules, it was slightly frustrating which ordained yet another night of too many cocktails.  We ordered a pepperoni pizza and I wrapped up this uneventful day by reading in bed . . . thank god for my unconscious affair with Jake!

This trip was never about wining and dining at great establishments, soaking up copious amounts of Florida culture nor fully partaking in the many tropical pastimes . . . it was about spending time with my Mother & Stepfather, meeting some good people and unraveling some of the side effects of my lawsuit that still permeate a once pristine belief system.  Tomorrow, I will say farewell to Marco Island and travel towards a very frigid, iced over Wisconsin to complete the other half of this journey.  My Dad, Brother, Sister-n-Law, Nieces and Long-Lasting Friends all await my arrival for more memories, more booze, more cards and certainly more fried foods – Mardi Gras can’t compete with what’s to come, that’s for certain!
With Culinary Blessings,
                        Chef Scotty

Mardi Gras Gator Meatballs
I’ve used Gator plenty of times before and in my experience you don’t want any dark colored meat as it has a peculiar fishy/reptile taste (like the blood clot in a swordfish filet).  You could just as easily substitute any other odd creature for this recipe including turtle, raccoon, opossum, snake, squirrel, feral cat . . . anything works just make sure it’s ethically harvested and legal.  Gator is available via the internet or specialty markets in the frozen section –email if you need more details as to where you can purchase some.

Ingredients
  • 2 1/4 pounds potatoes, peeled and diced
  • 5 1/4 pounds alligator meat
  • 1 1/2 pounds onions
  • 2 bunches green onions
  • 2 bunches fresh parsley
  • 1 medium head garlic
  • 1/2 bunch celery
  • 1 quart oil for frying
  • 2 eggs
  • 3 tablespoons Old Bay Seasoning
  • 2 tablespoons coriander
  • 1 tablespoon cumin
  • 2 1/2 pounds smashed cornflakes
Directions
  1. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Add potatoes and cook until tender but still firm, about 15 minutes; drain. Put the alligator meat, onions, green onions, parsley, celery and potatoes through a meat grinder (or food processor) into a large bowl. Mix in the eggs, Old Bay Seasoning, coriander and cumin until well blended. Shape into 1 ounce balls (golf ball sized) and roll in smashed cornflakes.
  2. Heat oil in deep-fryer to 375 degrees F (190 degrees C). Fry meat balls until golden and crisp. Drain on paper towels.
  3. Serve with that Dijon-Tarragon dipping Sauce I posted a few days back . . . Joe’s Stone Crab Title, maybe February 16th or there’s around.