Pickled Javelina Feet??

Don’t you sometimes wonder how some people’s brains work? Where do their ideas come from? Their creativity?

My Internet provider has a filter system that keeps all the junk mail and viruses from reaching my computer. Periodically I’m directed to their site to check out the spam mail box and the virus mail box to see if they caught anything they shouldn’t have. As I was checking through things this morning I took notice of some of the email addresses. They really made me wonder. Here’s a sampling:

jimmyinelastic@
ferdinandsexoticboner@
dagmarshooters@
sallyscrumptious@
randyscreepycox@

Hmmm. I’m not going to say another word – I’ll just leave all that to your imagination.

Say, I want to comment on what a wonderful job all the head honchos organizers of the Great Javelina Hunt are doing. If you haven’t checked out their pages, please go over there and do so. Sounds like there will be lots going on to keep us all informed and entertained throughout the weekend. And if you haven't made plans to go, you really should because you'll be missing not only a lot of fun, but a great education in blogging. Rosie, Ole’s wondering if he can go along on the great javelina hunt – just in case there’s a javelina that decides to get rowdy he wants to be available to protect us all as he says he’ll be ‘packin’. (That’s a joke here, People, a joke. He wouldn’t shoot a cute little javelina!)

I guess there is a difference between a javelina and a wild pig, huh? Big Brother lives in New Mexico in an area where there are quite a few wild pigs/boars. A couple of years ago his neighbor was outside in the evening checking out some strange noises that she had heard. She located the strange noises, all right. They were emanating (neener) from her backyard where she found a big boar rooting around in her garden. She turned to run back to her house with the pig after her. He caught the back of her leg with his tusk and ripped it open. She made it into the house and managed to call 911 and the neighbor who came over with a large rifle, but by the time he got there with the gun the pig was gone. This guy was definitely not cute little Porky Pig.

Now I know I’ve talked in the past about eating some strange things – not necessarily me, but strange things that have been eaten by my family or folks I know. Of course there’s the well-known lutefisk fiasco. My mother used to make both blood bread and blood sausage (put a clothes pin on your nose as it smells as bad as lutefisk.) Then there was headcheese. Read about it – it’s disgusting. In Iceland we were offered sheep's head, which had all the wool singed off it,

fermented shark, which was cut into slabs, burried at the high tide mark for 6 weeks, then dug up and eaten,

and large slabs of whale meat. This looked like a huge chunk of beef, although much grainier with absolutely no fat.

There’s also pickled eggs (put a cork in the backside of anyone who eats those), pickled herring, pickled beets and pickled pigs feet. My father always thought they were a great delicacy. He would sit by the table and eat them as a bedtime snack. Can you imagine?

Now maybe the Javelina Crew has ulterior motives planning this hunt. Maybe Chef Art is going to prepare some great delicacy for us. Just don't put too many hot peppers in mine, okay, Art? My spice cabinet consists of salt, pepper and ketchup. This could end up bein' a lot for a Meat & Potatoes ScandiHOOvian girl to swallow. Just sayin' is all.

Catch a Pickled Herring

Well, Folks, it's looking like Cupid is going to have a tough time traveling in our neck of the woods tomorrow. We've got a winter storm forecast for tonight and tomorrow and it's supposed to drop 4 - 8 inches of snow with wind. Could be a nasty one from what the weatherman is saying. So poor Cupid could get frostbite just wearing that diaper.

And "tusen taak" (ScandihOOvian for a thousand thanks) to Golfwidow for the guest entry that she provided me. She even did research on lutefisk before she posted her entry. She may not be Norwegian/Swedish but at least now she's educated!!

Another delicacy that I haven't written about is Pickled Herring - ScandihOOvian Soul Food. If you haven't ever eaten it you've missed dying and going to heaven. It comes in three flavors - pickled herring in wine sauce, pickled herring in cream sauce, and just plain pickled herring.

Remember I've written about all the fishing that my father did, especially ice fishing in the winter. He would bring all the Northerns home and they would become pickled fish. They were pretty good, but not as good as true pickled herring. Herring are small fish that swim in huge schools off the east coast of Canada and off the coast of Norway.

To make pickled herring (fish) you cut them into small pieces, layer them in a bucket with onions, lots of pickling spices, sugar and vinegar. They are truly pickled in about two weeks, but lots of ScandihOOvians are so anxious they eat them after two or three hours!! Pickled herring isn't nearly as disgusting as lutefisk with all that lye!!

Speaking of lutefisk, I was going through my mother's old Swedish recipe books the other day and I managed to find this classic recipe for making lutefisk:

Start with 1 codfish and 1 slightly used dragon ship.

Carefully remove one strake from the dragon ship.

Filet the cod and salt it. Place the cod on the strake.

Fill a pot with a solution of water and lye.

Place the strake and the cod in the pot overnight.

Drain the cod and the strake.

Throw away the cod and eat the strake.

Now, talking about pickling - the ScandihOOvians have been known to pickle their innards too. They use such things as Aquavit and Glogg. Aquavit is a beverage distilled either from potatoes or grain and has various things added for flavor such as caraway or anise. So you see the Russians weren't the first ones to put potatoes to another use other than eating.

Now Glogg - that's another story. Remember that the ScandihOOvian countries are dark in the winter. When we lived in Iceland the sun would come up around 11:30 a.m. and be gone again before 2:00 p.m. Those poor people had to have something to keep them from going stir crazy so they brought out the party animal in themselves and consumed things like glogg.

Here's another recipe from one of my mother's old Swedish cookbooks - this time for Glogg:

8 ounces water
1 cup raisins
3 cinnamon sticks
5 whole cloves
12 cardamom seeds
2 dry orange peels
Boil ingredients for 10 minutes in saucepan, then add:
1 gallon port wine
One 750-ml. bottle brandy
16 ounces rum
1/2 cup sugar
Bring to boil and let simmer 1 minute, then turn off burner and ignite. Allow the mixture to burn for about 15 seconds. Serve hot.

Now that would certainly light up the night, huh? Oh, Uff da and Feeda!!

Remember - Uff da is when you step OVER it - Feeda is when you step IN it!!

Well, with all of that I'm going to sign off now and leave you with the creme de' la creme of all Swedenland - the Swedish Chef:

Yorn desh born,

der ritt de gitt der gue,

Orn desh, dee born desh,

de umnbork! bork! bork!

A weekend of total consumption and gorging

For a weekend that we planned to be quiet and laid back, this weekend has been an absolute whirlwind of activity. Whew! One more evening and then it's back to somewhat of a normal schedule - I hope.

Bob & Carol, Lovely Daughter and Lars, and Ole & I were invited up to Mae's house for supper. I think I told you about her before, but in case I didn't: Mae was born in Turkey. Her mother was Syrian and her father was German. When Mae was 15 her mother arranged her marriage to a weathly Russian who was 20 years her senior, and from what she says, quite an abusive character. She had three children with him and then he decided to move to Florida. When her children were older she divorced him and somehow ended up in North Dakota. Anyway, all that aside, she is the most wonderful cook. So she invited us all to her house so that she could prepare Mediterranean food for us.

She served mousakas (meat and potato pie), shishkebobs, aubergines (battered and fried eggplant), dolmathes (a rice/meat mixture wrapped in grape leaves), a Greek unleavened bread, and of course baklava. If you have never eaten baklava you have missed out on one of the major treats of the entire world. It's made by layering many thin sheets of phyllo pastry with layers of chopped walnuts, butter and cinnamon. When the layers are built up to an adequate thickness you poor a syrup of honey, sugar, lemon juice and warm water over the dough and bake it. It is to die for. Anyway, after finishing that meal we were all sprawled in our chairs, moaning and groaning and consuming sangria. We managed to waddle out of her house and head for home. She is one great cook.

Sunday brought the four of us heading for the Western Minnesota Steam Threshers Reunion, which takes place every year about 20 miles from here. It's quite an event and Lars had never seen anything like it before, so off we went. I've got a ton of pictures I haven't offloaded from my camera yet, so I'll share those later and tell you all about it.

We had to be home by 5 o'clock because Bob & Carol were hosting a potluck and a fire in their firepit last night. It was a beautiful evening for a fire, and one again everyone stuffed themselves. I think I've gained back all those seven pounds I managed to lose on vacation (sniff). I'm too scared to step on the scale to find out. At least I can still get my jeans buttoned!!

I think we all went to bed and slept the sleep of the dead last night. Everyone was exhausted from being out in the hot sun at the threshing grounds, breathing in all the dirt and chaff that came from all the threshing machines, etc.

So we tried to sleep in this morning, are attacking some chores that need to be done today and then we're off to another barbecue this afternoon. A friend of ours is big into smoking meat. He gets up at 2 a.m., starts the smoker and keeps it going through the night and following day. He says it will be ready about 4 o'clock this afternoon. Last time he did a turkey - this time he's doing ribs. They should be wonderful if they're up to his normal standards.

So once again, it's stuff your belly time. AACCKK. I won't have to eat for a week. I'll live on water for the next few days - maybe that will help.