Hey Y'all.
A few months ago I bought a domain and since then I've been putting all the pieces together.
It's not finished - I am still laboring at transferring the Sea Cookery story to its new home. But I would love to get your feedback, dear, persistent readers of this blog.
My hope is that it will encourage/enable me to keep the stories coming even if I don't go back out to sea for a while. And yet... there's room for that to happen, too.
So please come visit me at coleruth.com! If you have any problems sending comments or subscribing, please let me know. The backend is all on me this time, so I need to be able to troubleshoot and figure things out myself.
Thanks again for tagging along on the journey.
Cole
Sunday, August 28, 2011
What Are You Going to do Next?
I'm going to be very very busy. I've got so many different lists. One for all the things I want to do in New York this week. I've got another list of food tricks I want to try:
1. Sous vide - it seems like the kind of thing every chef should know
2. Pop Tarts - can't really explain why, but I still want to try this...
3. Yoghurt - I mean, if Smith can go home and do it...
4. Paneer - Again, if the woman in Trader Joe's makes it all the time...
5. Ricotta
6. Petit choux
7. Homemade dumpling wrappers
8. I want to cook a lobster... I never have!
9. Jello shots
10. Fried rice noodles like in Mee Grob
I've got the list of things I'd like to do someday. Not The Bucket List; it's the "would be nice to do" rather than "is necessary to do" list:
1. Build something: a tree house, a boat house, a garage, something...
2. Cross the Atlantic or the Pacific in a sailboat
3. Learn to play the cello, or, even better, the viola de gamba
4. Have a garden
5. Be self-sustaining (except for meats and grains and dairy)
6. Own my own business
7. Visit Shanghai, Vietnam, Bruges, Egypt, Morocco, Buenos Aires, Corsica and New Zealand
8. Live for at least one month in Italy, preferably Rome
9. Learn to speak another language as well as I speak Swedish. (I'm thinking Spanish might be my best bet.)
10. See a blue whale
And, then of course there's the list you might be interested in - the real reason you clicked this link. Because you're one of those people who keeps asking: But what are you going to do now that you don't have a job? Now that you don't have ten mouths to feed three times a day?
1. Sous vide - it seems like the kind of thing every chef should know
2. Pop Tarts - can't really explain why, but I still want to try this...
3. Yoghurt - I mean, if Smith can go home and do it...
4. Paneer - Again, if the woman in Trader Joe's makes it all the time...
5. Ricotta
6. Petit choux
7. Homemade dumpling wrappers
8. I want to cook a lobster... I never have!
9. Jello shots
10. Fried rice noodles like in Mee Grob
I've got the list of things I'd like to do someday. Not The Bucket List; it's the "would be nice to do" rather than "is necessary to do" list:
1. Build something: a tree house, a boat house, a garage, something...
2. Cross the Atlantic or the Pacific in a sailboat
3. Learn to play the cello, or, even better, the viola de gamba
4. Have a garden
5. Be self-sustaining (except for meats and grains and dairy)
6. Own my own business
7. Visit Shanghai, Vietnam, Bruges, Egypt, Morocco, Buenos Aires, Corsica and New Zealand
8. Live for at least one month in Italy, preferably Rome
9. Learn to speak another language as well as I speak Swedish. (I'm thinking Spanish might be my best bet.)
10. See a blue whale
And, then of course there's the list you might be interested in - the real reason you clicked this link. Because you're one of those people who keeps asking: But what are you going to do now that you don't have a job? Now that you don't have ten mouths to feed three times a day?
Today I ran to Petoskey and rented a bike, then biked 18 miles to Charlevoix and back. On a lawn in Charlevoix (do you sense a lawn theme in my life?), I alternated between napping and reading another thirty pages from The Long Way. Then I went into a place called Whitney's and ate at a bar that was made out of the hull of a wooden boat.
And I as I sat there, enjoying my beer, I worked on my list...
Sunday's Menu
Lunch
Leftover Thai curry - just as delicious the second time
Dinner
Six Malpeque oysters and delicious mussels cooked in sherry and butter with garlic, parsley and tomatoes. A pint of the house ale. Sometimes the simplest things are really the best...
After-dinner
Fries at It's Knot Just a Bar in Bar Harbor, where Seth #2 and Eve (and some local captain) all bought me a round of whiskey
Sunday's Menu
Lunch
Leftover Thai curry - just as delicious the second time
Dinner
Six Malpeque oysters and delicious mussels cooked in sherry and butter with garlic, parsley and tomatoes. A pint of the house ale. Sometimes the simplest things are really the best...
After-dinner
Fries at It's Knot Just a Bar in Bar Harbor, where Seth #2 and Eve (and some local captain) all bought me a round of whiskey
Saturday, August 27, 2011
The Handover
Okay. One last post. Maybe two... I thought you might want to know how I'm handling my new-found freedom. And my mother keeps asking me about the transition, so I thought I'd fill you in. I guess the blog can't really be over until I'm off the boat, can it?
Today I went shopping with Rebecca, the new cook. I think we have similar philosophies, but very different styles. She's going to feed them well - and that's the most important thing. But she bought milk - to bake with, she said. And you know how I feel about milk. And sandwich meat at $8 a pound and Bisquick (which I know you readers know how I feel about since it's just flour and baking powder and salt and shortening).
This is why I think the handover process should be almost non-existent. Even if you think you can separate yourself from it. Even if you think, like I do, that I'm done and I don't care anymore - you still do. I wanted to say, "But why are you buying those when you could buy a whole ham at $4 a pound?" But I didn't. I bit my tongue. And when she bought pre-shreaded and pre-sliced cheeses, I just smiled.
Freedom Now
As soon as we were done I headed off to the beach. I sprawled out in the grass and read The Long Way, a book written by Bernard Moitessier (I've mentioned him in previous posts) when he sailed around the world once and a half. I didn't leave that lawn for hours. I ate a sandwich I had packed for myself - the last leftover medallion of beef tenderloin from our 5-course meal on a homemade bun with mayonnaise and a pickled egg.
My mother called. She said she loved that she could now call me anytime, and not have to worry about one of the Stupid Boat Rules, which is no talking on phones belowdecks. I told her how the new cook bought Bisquick, and my mother said, "You've learned so much!" Given yesterday's post, which I hadn't yet put up, her comment was amazingly apt.
Then she wanted to start making plans for their spring vacation. "Where are you going to be? Do you know what you're going to do next?"
"No, Mom. That's for tomorrow," I told her. Today I'm just going to enjoy my freedom. Eat whenever I want to. Sleep whenever I want to. Jump in the water whenever I want to.
It's funny, I've often heard that freedom is overrated. Who are those people? They have never been cooped up on a boat for six months. Freedom... I will never take it for granted again.
When I got back to the boat late tonight, I pulled out the last of my martini fixings. But when I went to the freezer to get an ice cube... the little tray I'd always kept stashed there was gone. I drank my martini warm and thought, I gotta get outa here.
Saturday's Menu
Breakfast
Yoghurt and granola and maple syrup
Lunch
Filet mignon sandwich with pickled egg
Dinner
Thai food, a delicious duck curry, at the Royal Orchid in Petoskey
Today I went shopping with Rebecca, the new cook. I think we have similar philosophies, but very different styles. She's going to feed them well - and that's the most important thing. But she bought milk - to bake with, she said. And you know how I feel about milk. And sandwich meat at $8 a pound and Bisquick (which I know you readers know how I feel about since it's just flour and baking powder and salt and shortening).
This is why I think the handover process should be almost non-existent. Even if you think you can separate yourself from it. Even if you think, like I do, that I'm done and I don't care anymore - you still do. I wanted to say, "But why are you buying those when you could buy a whole ham at $4 a pound?" But I didn't. I bit my tongue. And when she bought pre-shreaded and pre-sliced cheeses, I just smiled.
Freedom Now
As soon as we were done I headed off to the beach. I sprawled out in the grass and read The Long Way, a book written by Bernard Moitessier (I've mentioned him in previous posts) when he sailed around the world once and a half. I didn't leave that lawn for hours. I ate a sandwich I had packed for myself - the last leftover medallion of beef tenderloin from our 5-course meal on a homemade bun with mayonnaise and a pickled egg.
My mother called. She said she loved that she could now call me anytime, and not have to worry about one of the Stupid Boat Rules, which is no talking on phones belowdecks. I told her how the new cook bought Bisquick, and my mother said, "You've learned so much!" Given yesterday's post, which I hadn't yet put up, her comment was amazingly apt.
Then she wanted to start making plans for their spring vacation. "Where are you going to be? Do you know what you're going to do next?"
"No, Mom. That's for tomorrow," I told her. Today I'm just going to enjoy my freedom. Eat whenever I want to. Sleep whenever I want to. Jump in the water whenever I want to.
It's funny, I've often heard that freedom is overrated. Who are those people? They have never been cooped up on a boat for six months. Freedom... I will never take it for granted again.
When I got back to the boat late tonight, I pulled out the last of my martini fixings. But when I went to the freezer to get an ice cube... the little tray I'd always kept stashed there was gone. I drank my martini warm and thought, I gotta get outa here.
Saturday's Menu
Breakfast
Yoghurt and granola and maple syrup
Lunch
Filet mignon sandwich with pickled egg
Dinner
Thai food, a delicious duck curry, at the Royal Orchid in Petoskey
Friday, August 26, 2011
Last of Days
Smoothies with beet juice, strawberries and raspberries, yoghurt and maple syrup. |
It's hard to believe it's over. Like a long run that seems longest when you're three quarters' of the way, but when you reach the end you forget how that long stretch felt.
You know, my mother was against this whole ship's cook business at first. My friends in L.A. didn't really get it - and even Marc, who set me off on this journey, and warned me that I'd get hooked, routinely sends me messages saying, "Come home."
The whole experiment was only supposed to last a few months. The ad the Neverlandand posted said, "for the season," which in sailor-speak is usually 3-4 months. But when I called him I got roped in for six. Then when I got fired, that one month on the Neverland was just enough to hook me without leaving me worn out. The whole time I was working at Somewhere in Manhattan, I was itching to be back on a boat. And then job on the Marlin came through. And it was the perfect fit for me.
Today when the new cook was telling stories about her previous experiences, I kept feeling grateful I was not on a boat with an ice chest instead of a freezer, with a coal-converted wood stove in the fo'c's'le (!) or on a boat where the galley windows were at arm level so people were always sticking their hands inside!
Yep, I've had it pretty easy. I mean, I complain about picky captains or lazy crew members, but these last six months could have been sooo much harder.
My signature hash. |
And she was right. What a crazy bunch of people I've met, people I would never have encountered otherwise, and several of them are surely now friends for life. What have I learned?
I've learned... that I need to be my own boss.
That I need a work environment with sunshine easily available, and water nearby.
That I'm a great cook. And that I can churn out three meals a day no problem.
That I hate making pot after pot of coffee - and that I dread monotonous chores.
I've learned you should take the cookies out before they brown.
That one should have a lanyard on one's iPhone.
That you can take a cigarette lighter and burn down the ends of loose threads.
That chicken tastes a whole lot better if you sear it at really high heat first, with salt and pepper.
That bread dough can rise overnight to great effect and with very little yeast.
That there are people who don't like fresh tomatoes (!?!?!) and others who don't like onions...!
That eggs can be kept at room temperature, or slightly cooler, for a very long time, and that most condiments and pickles don't have to be refrigerated either.
I've learned how to make so many things I'd never made before... And thank goodness I kept a record, since I will be going back to read it and re-learn.
I learned from the history speech the deckhands give that Dolly Madison saved the white house, and that the Captain of the boat Chasseur once tacked a door on Lloyds of London. (Just kidding.)
I know what it looks like at the mouth of the St. Lawrence and what it's like to go through the locks.
I could go on, but I'm getting tired - and I bet you're bored. Needless to say, I learned an awful lot. I saw a lot of things most people will never see except on television or Google Earth. And I had a helluva good time.
So... Yeah, that's it. The end of the road. Thanks for following along; I hope you enjoyed it, dear readers, whoever you are. And if I don't make it on T.V., who knows what my next adventure will be. Maybe you'll find me here again someday.
Eve's sandwich. |
Friday's Menu
Breakfast
Hash with potatoes, breakfast sausage, beets, onions and goat cheese.
Lunch
Sandwich buffet
Corn on the cob so good it didn't need butter or salt
Dinner
Potato and onion empanadas with sour cream and raspberry-chipotle sauce
Roasted garlic soup with tortillas, avocado and cheese
Seared chicken
Dessert
Momofuku Milk Bar's compost cookies
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Day of Lasts
Straus's breakfast plate, picture-perfect. |
Straus, with yoghurt in his beard. |
I woke up this morning realizing that tomorrow will be the last time I wake up in my bunk. I'm going to move out so the new cook can move straight in.
I've spent the last week trying to use up strange odds and ends of things. That mustard container I never found a lid for - best to use that mustard so she's not like, "What is this?" Today I did something I never do: I threw out perfectly good pickling liquid. It just seemed strange that I would save it for her. Tomorrow I will pitch the can of bacon drippings on top the stove. And my menu today included Thai food, so I can use up my rice noodles and curries and coconut milk.
I'm trying to clear out the freezer so I can defrost it right before she gets here, and so she can restock it as she sees fit.
So far I think I'm doing well.
Today was Neb's last day. I made my last hamburgers for the crew. Tomorrow I'll make my last three meals. The Lasts are piling up.
Our afternoon sail was cancelled due to high winds and the crew was 'stood down' or, relieved for the day. This same thing happened a few days ago: the crew all got to laze around and do nothing the rest of the day, but yours truly has to get to work and crank out another meal. This situation annoys the hell out of me. Today it just sent me over the top. Really? No one offers to lend a hand to help me get dinner out so I can be relieved sooner as well?
Straus's burger - he was aiming for photo-worthy all day. |
I might have told them how I was feeling, but what's the point when I'm outa here tomorrow? One last day. Three last meals. Surely it's the last time I'll be mad at them, too.
Neb bites into his last C.Cook burger. |
Thursday's Menu
Breakfast
Biscuits and gravy
Lunch
Hamburgers and sweet potato fries with maple mayo
Dinner
Phad See Ew (Thai flat noodles with broccoli)
Massaman Curry and rice
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Who Builds These Boats?
I've often wondered what was going through his mind when the King's Father built this boat. Was it something like, "Hey, I've got an extra couple of mil' sittin' around. Why not?" I've heard he is a passionate history buff, so let's say he was just jones-ing to see what this boat would look like, and how she would sail if someone re-built her. But now here we are, sailing her around the U.S., and this is the second time I've seen the King and the first time I've met his father, and both times it struck me how little time they spend on the vessel.
But maybe this is what happens to Things We Acquire. Maybe even when we grow up, we're still like children playing with a new toy; once we've played with it a few times, the novelty wears off. We hand it down to someone who may appreciate it more.
Maybe. I think it would drive me crazy if this boat were mine, and she sailed into town. I would want to start sanding down the places where the paint is cracked, and examine all the blocks which are looking pretty sad. I'd want to be there when she's hauled out this winter to check out her hull. Even if I were too old to do the work, I'd see if the Captain had any use for me.
But it's possible there's a class issue going on here. It's possible that he's never touched the boat in that way to begin with - that he didn't really build the boat - he had it built.
Today we made a little side trip to Harbor Springs to give the King and his father and their friends a special fundraiser sail. They auctioned off an old weather-beaten ensign for $850, and I'm guessing the sail itself cost a pretty penny.
Harbor Springs is the most affluent port we've stopped in. Not coincidentally, they don't usually allow commercial vessels like ours to tie up here. A huge boathouse spills out in long fingers of docks and covered slips sheltering multi-million dollar boats. And all around the little bay, massive houses with private docks, all have their own sailboats and motorboats in the water.
This is where the King's family has their summer house (their main residences are in Hawaii and San Diego). Maybe when you have this much money, your possessions are just possessions. This boat is just one more boat the family owns; her operation just one more thing to be dealt with, itemized in their taxes and given a clause in the will.
It reminds me of an another altogether different boat story - the one we saw the film about in Wilmington - of the man so driven to build a boat that he did so in his own backyard in Detroit, fighting annoyed neighbors and city ordinances, persisting in his work through cold winters and money issues. He is still sailing her today.
Whether or not he lifts a brush with varnish on it, or even ever sails her again, I'm glad the King's Father had the boat built. It's enabled me to have one of the greatest adventures of my life.
Thursday's Menu
Breakfast
Breakfast burritos with chorizo, cheese eggs with jalapeno jack
Lunch
Gnocchi with rappini and Italian sausage, fennel seed and a little cream
Dinner
The King poked his head into the galley after the sail. How far into dinner prep was I, he asked. Could I put it on ice? Hell, yeah! I'd been feeling hungover all day. I was even a little worried the dough for hamburger buns wouldn't rise fast enough for me to make them in time for dinner. So we all went over to a little nook of a place called Bar Harbor and had dinner on the King. It wasn't anything to write home about... but how nice not to have to cook!
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Out with a Bang
Watermelon salad tic-tac-toe. |
Tuna tartar, looking like it has a halo. |
On Monday at muster I announced that it would be taking place. I asked for a six-dollar contribution, which everyone but Straus was prepared to chip in.
"Six dollars... for food?" he said, aghast.
"Six bucks for a gourmet meal?" said Cap, "I'm in. I'll even give you 60 towards wine!"
I love that Neb came in and helped me for most of the day. At first I wanted to focus, and have time alone, but it was great to have an assistant, and company in the kitchen. He made the potato-crab cakes, and the rub for the filets, and the welcome drink! (Gosh, what did I do?) Later, Eve helped between courses with running plates to the table and back. And everyone helped clean up at the end of the night.
Filet mingon with avocado cream-gone-crazy. |
It turned out to be one of those rare perfect evenings, when the world shrinks to the size of a dining room (or a salon, in this instance) and time seems to slow down.
Afterwards, Neb gave me a big hug and kisses on both cheeks. Harrison nearly toppled me in a hug as well. Buttons was teary-eyed. So was Eve, but I think that was mainly caused by the fact that she tried a bite of my steak. Her first meat in something like eight years.... and she liked it!
I wish I could say I did it on six dollars per person. That was part of the original idea. But then I decided I really wanted to treat us. I wanted filet mingon, damnit. And tuna tartar. And Cap wanted good wine! All in all, I'm sure the meal cost more like $20 a person. Still, that's not bad for a meal like this.
Morbier on a platter of currant reduction. |
Tuesday's Menu
Lunch
A sandwich at a place called American Spoon in Petoskey. We got to taste their gelatos, and now I'm itching to go back and get a cone with the burnt caramel flavor. It was divine
Dinner
Welcome drink: lemoncello and club soda rimmed with sugar and dehydrated lemon and grapefruit zest (the trick that got me on the Saveur 100 list one year)
Starter salad: Watermelon, feta, mint and sweet chili sauce
Tuna tartar: tuna, grapefruit, candied ginger, jalepeno salt, pepper, and cilantro
Main: Crab-potato cake, topped with a seared filet mingon that had been sitting in a little soy sauce and a rub of four peppers: black, white, rose, and ancho chilli pepper, topped with an avocado cream and a raspberry-chipotle reduction
Dessert in a swan? Oh yeah. |
Dessert: Chocolate mousse and strawberry granite, with grated chocolate on top
Wines: A dry Spanish white; a Temperanillo; a Barbera D'Asta; a Shiraz; and a Gewurtztraminer.
Monday, August 22, 2011
Not Just the Job
The last Dutch baby. |
I wrack my brains for the best moments of the last six months, hoping they might illustrate my point. Here are the ten that spring to mind, in chronological order:
1. Walking around Savannah with Eve trying to find Conrad Aiken's grave with a bag full of martini fixings, including three green glasses we found at the Good Will, but not finding the grave, we settled on a little square with a fountain that was bubbling up green-tinted water, and Smith rode up on her bike to join us.
2. Eating a delicious plate of scallops at Circa 1922 in Wilmington one night with Smith.
3. Catching two bluefish on our transit to Greenport, and using them in two Thai dishes.
4. The night Harrison caught a squid.
5. Indulging in a lobster dinner in Marblehead, that easily tops the best ten meals of my life. Thanks P1 and P2!
6. The morning during that longest of transits when Neb said he just had to hug me, because "that quiche was so fucking good."
7. Swinging on the swing-set and clambering all over a playground in Clayton at dusk with Eve and Smith.
8. The night we played bananagrams after a perfect meal, that was enlivened by a gift of wine from the mayor of Clayton.
9. The day Bly came and picked up Eve, Harrison, Buttons and I and we sped off down sun-dappled country roads; we hiked the dunes north of Frankfort with a picnic lunch, swam in the waves and ate ice cream in a building with a tree growing through it. (I ate key lime pie ice cream and coconut - yum!)
10. The handful of nights when half the crew ends up gathered around my bunk, talking about their lives and their days.
Last night Neb was waxing sentimental; he's getting off here, too. His last day is the day before mine, the 25th.
"You're gonna miss us," said Neb. "You're gonna miss this job."
"Nah," I said sarcastically, "Well, maybe the job."
Monday's Menu
Breakfast
Today I made my last dutch baby for the crew. It turned out lovely. And I cooed appropriately.
Lunch
My plate at dinner. |
Dinner
No-longer-Nassau grits
Barbecue baby back ribs
Bean and corn salad
No-longer-Nassau Grits recipe
You may be really tired of my grits talk by now, but these grits were the bomb.
Sautee 1 small red onion, chopped in 2 Tbsp. olive oil
Add 20-30 finely chopped green olives (I used those ones with the pimientos)
Add one can of tomatoes, chopped. These had oregano, garlic and basil in the can with the tomatoes.
Then add 2 c. grits, stir, and quickly add 5-1/2 c. water.
Add bullion; I used vegetable because of Eve.
Add 2-3 dashes of liquid smoke.
Add 1/3 - 1/2 c. mayonnaise
Salt and black pepper to taste.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Paradise Lost
Greek pizza for lunch. |
Then just after lunch Cap announced we were canceling the sail. The entrance to Bay Harbor is narrow and, as he says, threatens rocky death on both sides. In 25 knot winds, our boat would have a difficult time escaping that rocky death. So Cap gave himself and the crew the rest of the day off. I tried to move dinner to 8 pm, so I could have the day free, but Cap replied, "This is not a democracy. I said dinner would be at 5 pm, and therefore it will be at 5 pm."
So I of course had to keep pounding out the chow. As luck would have it, the rain poured down for hours, making a trip to Petoskey impossible anyway.
It was a good day for chow-pounding. I was really in the groove. Maybe it had something to do with the email my friend Iz sent along last night. It said, "This must be the show you auditioned for!" The link took me to Zagat's website, which read:
"Around the World in 80 Plates takes culinary competition to the next level. Up-and-coming chefs will travel to various countries testing their skills in some of the greatest and most challenging restaurants around the globe. In each episode, the contestants will travel to a different international city where they will learn the local customs, cultures and cuisines as they participate in a gauntlet of culinary challenges- all while being at the mercy of the demanding restaurant owners. Ultimately, they will face-off in a kitchen takeover where they will not just recreate, but reinvent the menus for these world-renowned restaurants."
I ran around the boat reading it to people. Then panic and excitement set in and continued charging through my veins as I tried to go to sleep. What if they pick me? All I could think about today is how I better start practicing my brunoise.
Baklava with walnuts, dates and honey. |
A New On-the-job Challenge
Ol' Dies' is currently out of commission because of a problem with her regulator. Eve's ordered a new one, but it might not arrive until the new cook takes over. So I've been cooking on the hotplate and in the convection oven. Then wouldn't ya know it? Just as I finished cooking the spinach for lunch, the hotplate died. It's died before. Last time Eve resurrected it, she said it was a safety hazard and that we should buy a new one. That was ages ago. So by dinner I was down to one appliance: the oven.
Tomorrow I'll go and buy a new one so Rebecca, the new cook has a solid set-up when she gets here. She's supposed to arrive on the 26th. All I know about her is that she's "salty, but a good cook," and that, according to Captain Smiley, she's been cooking on tall ships since before he was... I've planned out my meals for the rest of the week, and I'm planning to go out the way I came in - with Thai food.
Ah, to be Alone
After dinner tonight I headed off on that walk toward Petoskey. I kept thinking about a post that my friend Jessica made on Facebook recently about how she was dreading a day in London by herself. How funny it is for me to be in the exact opposite situation. To be alone... I crave it so much. I feel so fortunate when I think back to my first boat, the Neverland, and how I shared the sleeping compartment with another person. What luxury I have had here on the Marlin. Even though I'm surrounded by people most of the time, I have a curtain I can close; a little private bunk of my own.
If they choose me for this show, I'll be right back in close quarters again. Thank goodness for walking trails.
Bread salad. |
Breakfast
Carrot-date-coconut-walnut muffins
Strawberry-coconut-pineapple-banana-maple-vanilla smoothies
Lunch
Greek pizza: toppings on phyllo dough - one with mozzarella, sauteed spinach and garlic, thinly sliced tomatoes and feta cheese, and one with mozzarella, artichokes, roasted red bell peppers, and parmesan cheese
I also put out some rye bread and leftover meat for sandwiches
Dinner
Pork loin that had been marinating in balsamic, sugar, basil, lemon rind and pepper
Bread salad (panzanella) with artichokes, kalamata olives (a real splurge), cucumbers, cherry tomatoes, and basil
Eggplant broiled and then topped with parmesan cheese
Dessert
Baklava with the leftover phyllo dough
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Will Somebody Hit the Lights?
Deutsch's bread pudding with yoghurt on top. |
My last banana bread onboard. |
We're hiding out. Listening to music in the dark in order to escape that big noisy wedding outside, and the "village" none of us want to be visiting.
I tried to take photos of it from our sail today, but they just don't seem to do the place justice.
A view of Stepford from the water. |
"That's not the first Harborcam we've been on," said Harrison at dinner. Who knew? All this time, I could have been sending messages to the outside world. This time the message is: HELP!
Deutsch's plate at dinner. |
Ten more days left on my contract. Ten more days spent here on The Truman Show. If you're out there, in the outside world, and you still exist, wave back, will ya? Let us know there's hope after Bay Harbor.
Saturday's Menu
Breakfast
Cherry cream cheese bread pudding
Lunch
Soft tacos with leftover carnitas meat and smoked whitefish
Afternoon Snack
Banana bread, Bittman's recipe but with chopped dried dates in addition to the coconut and walnuts
Dinner
Bibimbap ("Remember that day when you made it twice?" asked Buttons.)
Friday, August 19, 2011
The Ugliest Place, part two
A street in this "village." |
First, I don't think this town existed ten years ago. It's all newly built, and looks as though it was delivered in trucks, unpacked and assembled. I don't mean that it looks cheap... it just looks... fake. Like I would imagine Disneyland's town, Celebration, must look.
There's clearly a ton of money here - but it must be new money. Huge boats, most of them motorboats, fill the marina; the lawns are all exquisitely manicured and the houses and townhouses are massive.
"We're in the Truman Show," said Straus.
I want to go running this evening, but I'm little worried that, like Truman, I'll keep hitting some imaginary wall if I try to escape this place.
My lunch spread: capers, shallots, jalapeƱos, pickled green onion bottoms, chopped green onion, and more. |
The first time I didn't succeed. I hit the beach road and got to a point where the sidewalk ended in a No Trespassing sign, and the lakefront was rocky and impassable. So I googled-mapped it and headed up toward the high road, where I discovered a long path that led all the way to Petoskey. So I walked there, and a little further, and back. Nine miles. It was exactly what I needed to curb the claustrophobia this place causes for me. It's like the 2011 Bell Jar. I would definitely walk into a river with stones in my pockets if I had to live here.
My whitefish sandwiches, one half with jalapeƱos and avocado, one with capers, pickled green onion, shallots and mayo. |
Earlier I was wondering aloud after lunch, what will happen to this place in 50 years? Will it achieve a kind of retro-coolness or will it fall into disrepair and become overgrown with weeds? Most of the crew guessed the latter. "Places like this will be tomorrow's trailer parks," said Burns. Mouse said she thought organic farmers would take it over.
Now back to the task of how to tolerate this place for over a week!
Friday's Menu
Breakfast
Eggs baked in muffin tins (see recipe below)
Cheese grits, with chipotle (the crew has been asking me about my grits, since some of them didn't even like grits before mine, so that recipe is below, too)
Bacon
Lunch
Smoked whitefish sandwiches on homemade Parker House rolls (in which I substituted the sugar with molasses)
The buffet included all kinds of good stuff, most of it pictured except the lemon wedges and the container of smoked whitefish
Dinner
Navajo tacos, with slow-cooked pork butt and mango salsa
Plus sour cream and avocado
Baked Eggs
Straus, putting the finishing touches on his sandwiches. |
C. Cook's Grits
Mayonnaise is the secret to my grits. I may have said this before. Here's why. Grits often have a loose translucency going on. Not mine. Prepare them as you normally would. I do 3 cups water (sometimes substituting some milk or half and half in there); 1 c. grits; 1/2 tsp. salt, and maybe a pinch more, to taste; cracked black pepper; 2 T. butter. After I've added all those things, and the grits are starting to do that popping thing, and consolidate, I add about 1/3 c. mayonnaise. You'll see the change. They immediately turn thick and white and creamy. Then I add whatever cheese I have on hand. Today I used cheddar, but smoked gouda is my favorite. And a spritz of siracha or tabasco. Today I used chipotle in adobo, about 2 tsp. They were as good as ever.
Messages on my walk. |
The Ugliest Place on Earth
Just a little foreshadowing here - no time for a lengthy post because I got to get lunch out. But suffice it to say that we woke up in paradise then motored a few short hours and managed to end up on the moon. The main thought coursing through my mind is: this is where I'll br spending my last days on the Marlin?!?!?
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Will They Remember Me When I'm Gone?
Sunrise as we left Traverse City this morning. |
Kids hauling today, outside my galley window. |
During the sail today I also made a maple/roasted ginger/sesame vinaigrette. I used to have a few salad dressings in the locker, but I’ve been lazy of late. I’ll make another honey mustard vinaigrette before I leave, since that’s pretty popular. And sweet chili sauce; they go through it about as fast as water.
But once these items are used up and this batch of crewmembers are gone, and the tall ship merry-go-round has come full circle, will there be anything left of me here?
What’s in a name?
The Nomad says I should leave a spoon somewhere on the boat, a totem. When I think about it, there may already be a few in place. Inside the gun cabinet someone once taped up a tinfoil heart. Maybe this is my totem. More importantly, I’ve named things – that cabinet is called the gun cabinet because it’s where I keep the popgun that the princess left for me. The passageway between the main salon and the galley is now called “The Pass,” a term I borrowed from working at Somewhere Restaurant in Manhattan – it was the place where we would put food out for the runners to take to the dining room. There’s also a drawer in the galley where I keep my pots, and you practically have to go into contortions to get into this space that’s beside the drawer and behind the stove, but it’s where the food processor and the waffle maker and the coffee grinder live; I call this area “The Deep.”
I suspect these names will live on without me. For a while anyway.
And for a while, my legacy will live on in the pantry and stores of the boat. The new cook will probably shake her head in befuddlement when she finds that great big container of red onions I pickled, or the five kinds of rice – brown, wild, jasmine, basmati and sushi. Or the can of braised seitan…and the giant bag of panko. Who knows, like the boxes of matza in the cupboard behind the fridge, some cook a year from now may look at that bag of panko and wonder how long it’s been there…
Selective Memory
Today I said something to Eve like, “After we park the boat…” She looked at me with unabashed disbelief. “Uh-oh,” I said. “I’m already becoming a landlubber again.”
I wonder, how quickly will I lose my ties to the tall ship world? Will I go back to a “normal” life and get embroiled in the making of money to pay the rent and the car loan? Will I go back to eating out all the time and buying clothes and shoes to stock my closet? Or will I take some sense of this outsider life with me, back into society?
Parked in paradise. |
Strauss...I think he secretly dreams of a modeling career. |
And what about my lost boys, my foc’s’le committee, will they remember me? Will they reminisce about my antics, the way I would talk to a Dutch Baby when it came out of the oven, or my stormy angry days? Will they talk of the cook who got an apron in every port? How will they talk of me?
Because the world of tall ships is so small, whatever they say will be passed on, until I, too, will have a little place in it somewhere. Perhaps my name will get lost in the passing on of stories. Maybe all that will be left is some talk of a couscous salad, the taste of apple compote, or the way the galley smelled when I was baking banana bread. I like that. That’s enough for me.
Thursday’s Menu
Breakfast
My favorite pancakes from More with Less. See recipe below.
Lunch
Eve, as she hung off the big boat to keep the small boat off balance in order to drain it. |
Dinner
Also furnished by The Garage, but this time they brought it to the boat for a reception.
Wheat Germ Griddle Cakes
Beat together (I do it by hand, but the recipe says to do it on slow with an electric mixer or blender)
1 1/2 c. wheat germ
2 1/4 c. milk (I used 1 c. half and half; the rest was evaporated milk, in water)
3 eggs
6 T. salad oil (I used canola)
1 1/4 c. white flour
Buttons' funnies. |
1 T. sugar
1 1/2 t. salt
1/2 t. cinnamon
1/4 t. ginger
1/4 t. mace (I used nutmeg)
Bake on a hot griddle.
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