Monday, February 20, 2012

Master of Quan, Outbreak of Gluttony, Pole Denied


“The most I can do for my friend is simply to be his friend. I have no wealth to bestow on him. If he knows that I am happy in loving him, he will want no other reward. Is not friendship divine in this?”
Henry David Thoreau
 
February19th, 2012
Song: Staying Alive by the Bee Gees

I’m officially sun burnt on my entire frontside and my belly’s tingling with excessive anger; at least it now mimicks the fading rouge to sunrise tan on the backside of my body.   My upper wisdom tooth is a bit fidgety over neglect of regular brushing and over consumption of malted milk Easter eggs these past few days.  My triple-wide, size 14 Anglo-Saxon warrior feet are explicitly shredded from yesterday’s run-in with a coral bed.  My intestinal track is all but bursting from forgetting to take my lactaid this morning and we ran out of the “good coffee” as such the caffeine has been ineffective in counteracting my insomnia and the half-n-half hardly worth the bloating.  My head has a fuzzy “what the hell did you drink last night?” feeling of regret; the melting pot of spirits consumed last night having included 3 varieties of beer, a few Korbel brandy on the rocks, 1 gin martini and the rest is too foggy to remember.   At least I’m getting out of Marco Island today, I’m going to the Everglades. 

Y’all should have a fairly good grip on who Mother Mary Cleo is and what she brings to my life . . the great, the good, the indifferent . . the unmentionable lest I be ostracized from the family.  Spending this time with her has reminded me why I love her so much and how I could never live her if shit hit the fan (that Is . . . any worse than it already has).  In all these Marco Island writings, I realized that I haven’t really mentioned her other half and it takes one of incalculable patience and unwavering courage to partner which such a “remarkable” woman as Lynene.  My step-father is a curly haired (at least that which still holds to its follicle) silver fox, his topaz bright blue eyes overly accentuated from his overexposed, extra-virgin olive oil meets bougainvillea skin  and a nose that could only be from Finnish decent.  He is neither tall nor short, neither thin nor obese, neither muscular nor feeble – he is Dan Harmon.    

Master Dan, as I call him, has no false pretenses or hidden agenda.  Nope! He’s a man that is true to his word, a native Wisconsinite thick and through with a solid set of morals, a love of micro beer, Dean Koontz novels, Gordon’s gin martini’s, Uker and I must admit he’s quite affluent cooking on the grill.  He is a Packers & Badger aficionado, fisherman by leisure, retired High School principal by occupation, father of one, step-father of three, grandfather of six.  He married my mother seventeen years ago and has been a complimentary addition of our family every step of the way.  Step . . . hmmm,  I like that meaning better than the etymologist explanation as the word descending from “bereavement”   As a step-father, Dan was able to successfully integrate, paddling with the waves rather than attempting to deliver any duties and instructions as a Captain.  It’s like walking a tight-rope with Mom on one end and us kids on the other.  Trust being the bridge beneath his footing of faith, determination and concentration that would lead him to our welcoming hands, a bit of reach at first but fully willing to receive in due time. Don’t get me wrong, there were some bumps along the way, there always are with such sensitive matters, but it was and continues to be a relatively smooth and effortless  journey.

Dan and I have spent that “quality time” casting out quasi dead pink shrimp into the Gulf waters for the past two days.  The galvanized brass hook furnished a few baby red snapper, sheepshead and more than a dozen sail catfish.  We’d reel’em in, cuss at the aquatic captive for its miniaturized status and then ever so gracefully toss the little bastard back to sea.  Yes, you stand correct in assuming that we had to hit up the grocery store on the way home.  Fishing & Drinking are probably the top two Dairyland father & son bonding tools of the trade followed up by Golf, Uker (a Norwegian card game), Hunting, Camping and Sports.  This is the land of the free –we eat what we want, we breath what we say and we aren’t the slightest bit interested in over complicating our lives . . I’d like to think I’ve maintained most of those attributes after having lived in California for 14 years.  You can be the judge of that, I’ll be the judge of my waist size.   

Speaking of which, after having a great time with my Step-father he made a very simple request (the man never asks anything from me or siblings), “Scotty, I want you to make this Horseshoe Burger for tonight’s dinner!”  Of course I happily agreed and now present to you – an increased saturated fat version of burger & fries . . . yes, leave it to the Mid-westerners to make something more unhealthy than it already is . . but God damn it does taste good.
 
With Culinary Blessings,
                      Chef Scotty

 
The Horseshoe Burger
This Burger is credited to D’Arcy’s Pint and is essentially a chunk of ground beef, texas toast and waffle fries drenched in a variation of Welsh Rarebit – a buttery, creamy, beer tainted sauce that only the Irish could think of . . . well, that is until Springfield, Illinois wrapped their gluttony around it.  As usual, I’ve enhanced this recipe with some Chef Scotty affection.  Master Dan was happy – and that’s all that really matters to me!
Ingredients:
  • 6 – 8 thick, juicy Grilled Burgers (perfect burger recipe next week)
  • 2 packages of frozen waffle fries
  • 6 – 8 thick slices, of oiled, S&P’d, grilled Rye Bread
For the Saturated Fat Sauce:
  • 2 sticks of unsalted butter
  • ¼ Cup of all-purpose flour
  • 2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
  • 1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
  • 1 teaspoon kosher salt
  • 1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
  • 1/2 cup porter beer
  • 3 cups scalded ½ -n- ½
  • 6 ounces (approximately 1 1/2 cups) shredded Provolone
  • 2 drops hot sauce
  • Opitional: steep an “onion piquet” & one dried chipotle w/ cream
Directions
To make the sauce:  In a medium saucepan over low heat, melt the butter and whisk in the flour. Cook, whisking constantly for 2 to 3 minutes, being careful not to brown the flour. Whisk in mustard, Worcestershire sauce, salt, and pepper until smooth. Add beer and whisk to combine. Pour in ½ -n- ½ (simmer cream over low heat with onion & chipotle for about 20 minutes, skim the top crusties, eat the delicious onion & chuck the chipotle) and whisk until well combined and smooth. Gradually add cheese, stirring constantly, until cheese melts and sauce is smooth; this will take 4 to 5 minutes. Add hot sauce.
To plate: put the grilled rye bread down on the plate, then the burger, top with fries and generously pour your horseshoe sauce over the fries and serve immediately.  Smothering is in encouraged!



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