Coyotes

Last night I heard the coyotes howling. It's a sound I love. A form of night music.
When I was a kid, living in the hills of northern California, I heard coyotes often, however, it was different. A coyote would start up, then another some distance away would join in, and then others. They would continue, and the calls would get closer to each other, until the sounds were coming from the same location. Then they would stop.
I always assumed they were calling up the pack for an evening hunt. I've since heard the pack is pretty much family and stays together.
We often heard coyotes when we lived in New Mexico, and sometimes I would see one or two. They were business-like and fearless, and I was out walking my aging golden retriever. We would stop and eye each other, then go on about our separate business.
In Florida we live in cow country, inland from the coast. The coyotes howl when the evening train rumbles and roars past, sounding its whistle at the road crossings. The coyotes all sound close together, and they are definitely responding to the train, not calling up the pack for a hunt.
I have seldom heard coyotes when camping, but on occasion I have. It's always a magic moment. Oh, I know, I've heard concerns about coyotes being a threat to pets and livestock, and they can be. Urban deer can be a threat to garden plants too. For the most part, coyotes seem to do pretty well eating rodents, rabbits, and whatever. I still think they are magic, just as I do urban deer. When makes them seem magical is the idea these creatures can live so close to human development, and yet maintain enough discrete invisibility to survive. Of course, squirrels and songbirds do the same, but since they're smaller it's less surprising that they get away with it. But deer? And, coyotes?
Maybe they seem magical because they are so wild, even in close proximity to humans. They're not trying to move in, or become adopted. They're wild, living life as they would in the wilderness, accommodating our presence in whatever ways they can. But, they're still wild. Maybe I'm grateful they put me in touch with my love of the outdoors in ways other things don't, except campfires and cooking sourdough over a bed of hot coals.

The Sacred Campfire

I understand and respect the need to protect our forests and open areas. It means the guttering flame of a small camp stove may become more symbolic of experiences for some than the smells of wood smoke and the glowing embers of a campfire. Hopefully, we will be able to enjoy campfires most places we take in on treks we take in the future.
I like to keep my campfires small. It's easier to find adequate wood for a small fire, uses less of it, and you can huddle over, or near, a small fire to cook or warm up. I think small fires are less likely to get away from a camper and ignite a forest fire. On many hikes and cross-country ski runs, I've built a small fire to heat water for tea or soup. With small, dead twigs, it's easy to build a quick fire, and just as easy to handle the remains when finished.
I understand fire was (and probably still is) considered a sacred gift to Native Americans. It's hard to think of a more valuable one. I've been camping in wet, snow-slushy weather trying to get damp wood to provide a campfire and down to one match. Not often-but it happened once. That fire was greatly appreciated when I achieved it. Which brings me to thoughts about fire-building materials.
I grew up using wooden matches that would ignite when struck on almost anything, including my jeans. I learned to dip the heads in my mother's clear fingernail polish to make the waterproof. The polish also the matchsticks a little extra zip. Now there are propane torches for lighting barbecues. I wonder how often they are also taken into the back country to start a fire? I have one of those survival bars you can scrape with a knife blade to produce a generous shower of sparks for starting fires. You can also use the knife to shave off bits of magnesium to use as tender. It works well. At the very least, it's a terrific backup.
You know what also works well for tender? The cotton wads you can find in medicine bottles ignites very readily with a spark. Cotton is certainly light and packs down easily. I think it's another must for backup fire-making material. If you are familiar with milkweed, the dried pods and fluff ignite extremely well from a spark. Of course, the cotton or milkweed pod is pretty much part of an ignition system. For the rest, you need slivers and small sticks of wood, of course, and if you're in an area with birch trees, the resinous bark of birches is fabulous as starting tender.
I love the smell of birch wood burning, but I love the smell of cedar even more. I have many memories of evenings cooking on a campfire, and hours spent staring into the glowing embers while talking with a companion. I look forward to my next campfire, and hope you share my love for them. Thanks for visiting my blog. I'm sorry not to have any photos to share. I have been have been unable to insert them into my blog for some reason.

Savory Sourdough Impossible Spinach Pie

Savory Sourdough Impossible Spinach Pie I talked about making an Impossible Coconut Custard pie in a previous blog. This time I want to do a savory pie, impossibly easy style, with sourdough. It’s super easy to make, can be used for lunch or dinner, and can be done at home or on the road as long as you have some means of baking. Since I made this dish as a meal for one, or a shared appetizer for two, I used a tart pan. To me, it looks like a miniature pie pan, about five inches across, and is just the right size for camping. Rub the interior of the pan with butter. Flour the pan by putting a teaspoon of flour onto the buttered surface, then tilt the pan and tap it while rotating the pan until the flour has adhered to the greased surface. Dump the excess flour out. Heat a frying pan with a half teaspoon of olive oil and add the spinach and diced onions. Season with salt and pepper and a half teaspoon of Herbes de Provence. Turn the spinach as it cooks to keep it from burning until the spinach is cooked and reduced. Set aside and let cool while you get the custard part of the dish ready. Put a quarter cup of sourdough starter in a bowl and add a half cup of milk, one egg, a quarter teaspoon of baking soda and salt and pepper to taste. Beat with a fork until everything is combined into a thin batter. Mix in a quarter cup of Parmesan cheese. Spoon the cooked spinach and onion onto the bottom of the prepared pie pan (tart pan) and pour the custard batter over the top. Bake it at 350⁰ until a knife blade stuck into the pie comes out clean (about fifteen to twenty minutes). Let cool a little, then run a thin knife blade beneath the crust around edge of the pan. Place a dish over the pie and invert it over another dish or clean work space. You may have to gently pry the edge of the pie loose to allow it to loosen. When it drops out, turn it over and lift the pie onto a bed of greens, such as arugula dressed with an herbed vinaigrette dressing. A little olive oil and balsamic vinegar will work just fine as well. You have to admit, this a pretty fancy dish for camping, but it’s impressive, tastes good and is really easy to make. Hope you give it a try. Savory Sourdough Impossible Spinach Pie For the custard: ¼ cup sourdough starter 1 egg ½ cup milk ¼ teaspoon baking soda Salt and pepper to taste 1-2 cups fresh spinach ¼ cup diced onion ½ teaspoon olive oil ½ teaspoon Herbes de Provence Grease and flour 4 inch tart pan with ¼ teaspoon butter 1 teaspoon flour

 

Impossible Coconut Custard Pie

You don’t have to settle for a melted, messy candy bar if you discover you have a craving for something sweet and you’re all settled-in at your campsite. You can indulge that sweet tooth with a piece of coconut custard pie. What could be better?

Actually, the way this pie is made offers a real plus to campers that makes it even better. You don’t have to roll out a pie dough on the picnic table with a beverage container, or what have you. You don’t have to roll out a dough at all. This amazing pie does all that for you. It’s called the impossible pie for good reason. All you do is throw the ingredients into a bowl, beat them into a smooth batter and pour the contents into a greased and floured pan. Stick the pan into whatever you have to simulate a 350⁰ oven and bake it for about a half hour, or until you can stick a knife blade into it and the blade comes out clean. Believe it or not, the pie makes its own crust and custard filling.

The recipe below is intended for camping, and is appropriate for a pan about six inches in diameter, like the pan in a traditional Boy Scout mess kit. To grease and flour the pan, rub the sides and bottom with butter, place a spoonful of flour in the pan, then tip it and tap the edges while rotating the pan. The flour will coat the sides and bottom as you tap and rotate the pan. Dump out whatever is left over when you see the inside is coated. Hopefully, your camp cooking gear includes a short whisk, since you probably don’t have a hand mixer with you. I find a short whisk can be handy from time to time and doesn’t weigh much or take up much room. I suppose you could use a fork if you really did so vigorously, but I haven’t tried that yet. To make the batter come together readily, melt the butter before you add it to the other ingredients, but don’t pour it in while it’s hot.



Impossible Coconut Custard Pie

This can be a fun thing to throw together, and the resulting pie tastes really good. You should give it a try. Maybe you're already familiar with impossible pies. Let me know, and thanks for visiting my blog.

 

 Ingredients:

1 cup milk
½ cup shredded coconut
2 eggs
½ teaspoon vanilla
2 Tablespoons butter
¼ cup sugar
1/8 teaspoon nutmeg.

Talking Camping Gear

Men are all boys at heart, and boys love toys. Or, so we’re told. Personally, I have to admit I do. Lately, one of my sons and I have been talking about camping gear. We both love to camp, and did some together this fall. We also both love cooking, and that includes cooking over a campfire. Of course, there are times when that is impossible or impractical. That’s when a stove becomes essential. Naturally, some of the gear we’ve been talking about involves cooking. My son just bought a new backpacking stove. To be honest, I guess I’m jealous, but I’m not ready to follow suit just yet. I have been having fun talking with him about his acquisition and giving some thought to what I think would have to go into the ideal stove for me.

 

My son’s stove burns twigs. If there is no wood source available, the alternative is an alcohol burner. This outfit reflects a current interest in stoves that do not require fossil fuels—little canisters of butane that are partly full—but no one knows just how full—or canisters of white gas. Our discussion brought back memories for both of us of when my sons were much younger. I had an alcohol stove then. The popular interest at the time was in miniature stoves operating on white gas. I ended up with one of those too. I later acquired one that used propane, and seemed to answer everything—it was quick to put into operation, worked reliably, produced a hot flame, and was light to carry. Of course, I did feel I had to carry an extra canister of fuel because I didn’t know how much burn time I would get off the one I was using.

 

My son’s memories included another approach altogether. He talked about the coffee can stoves I introduced them to as a reasonably safe means of doing some backyard camping and cooking. The design was inspired by something I understood to have been a standard with the Girl Scouts. Basically, it involved a coffee can with an opening at the bottom to put in the twigs and holes at the top to let out smoke. A pan could be set on the top for cooking. Actually, it worked pretty well. That’s the way my son remembers his experience as well.

 

Of course, things evolve. The stove my son just bought is a very high-tech updating of the coffee can stove design. It does not have the hole in the bottom—you put twigs in from the top—and, the burn design is technically improved. Basically, it relies on a double-walled canister design that uses a twig fire, but draws the smoke up for a second burn cycle. It’s highly efficient, and works very well to produce an impressive amount of heat from a handful of dry twigs.

 

Other than being high-tech and new, what’s the attraction? Well, for me, camp cooking has to do with the challenge of seeing what you can accomplish with a minimum of modern kitchen equipment and convenience. Making an apple pie in a small pan over a bed of hot coals is hugely rewarding. Sometimes a stove is necessary (fires may not be allowed) and sometimes it’s simply convenient enough to warrant its use. Some campers want to visit the wild without leaving any more trace of their having been there than can be avoided. A small stove leaves no half-burned sticks, scorched ground or ashes. The stove my son bought seems a reasonable compromise. It uses twigs, not logs, and it’s fast and efficient.

 

In addition to the need for carrying fuel, I have complained that camping stoves, especially small ones, produce a very hot flame over a very small area, and seem primarily suited to cooking soup or making tea. Will my son’s new stove work better for cooking other things? That’s the twenty-four-thousand dollar question. It looks as though it might. I’ll be even more interested in getting one myself if it does. After all, it’s very hard to meet the outdoor cooking challenge if all you can readily do is boil water. Love to hear what others have to say about camp cooking stoves. Thank you for visiting my blog.

Men are all boys at heart, and boys love toys. Or, so we’re told. Personally, I have to admit I do. Lately, one of my sons and I have been talking about camping gear. We both love to camp, and did some together this fall. We also both love cooking, and that includes cooking over a campfire. Of course, there are times when that is impossible or impractical. That’s when a stove becomes essential. Naturally, some of the gear we’ve been talking about involves cooking. My son just bought a new backpacking stove. To be honest, I guess I’m jealous, but I’m not ready to follow suit just yet. I have been having fun talking with him about his acquisition and giving some thought to what I think would have to go into the ideal stove for me.

 

My son’s stove burns twigs. If there is no wood source available, the alternative is an alcohol burner. This outfit reflects a current interest in stoves that do not require fossil fuels—little canisters of butane that are partly full—but no one knows just how full—or canisters of white gas. Our discussion brought back memories for both of us of when my sons were much younger. I had an alcohol stove then. The popular interest at the time was in miniature stoves operating on white gas. I ended up with one of those too. I later acquired one that used propane, and seemed to answer everything—it was quick to put into operation, worked reliably, produced a hot flame, and was light to carry. Of course, I did feel I had to carry an extra canister of fuel because I didn’t know how much burn time I would get off the one I was using.

 

My son’s memories included another approach altogether. He talked about the coffee can stoves I introduced them to as a reasonably safe means of doing some backyard camping and cooking. The design was inspired by something I understood to have been a standard with the Girl Scouts. Basically, it involved a coffee can with an opening at the bottom to put in the twigs and holes at the top to let out smoke. A pan could be set on the top for cooking. Actually, it worked pretty well. That’s the way my son remembers his experience as well.

 

Of course, things evolve. The stove my son just bought is a very high-tech updating of the coffee can stove design. It does not have the hole in the bottom—you put twigs in from the top—and, the burn design is technically improved. Basically, it relies on a double-walled canister design that uses a twig fire, but draws the smoke up for a second burn cycle. It’s highly efficient, and works very well to produce an impressive amount of heat from a handful of dry twigs.

 

Other than being high-tech and new, what’s the attraction? Well, for me, camp cooking has to do with the challenge of seeing what you can accomplish with a minimum of modern kitchen equipment and convenience. Making an apple pie in a small pan over a bed of hot coals is hugely rewarding. Sometimes a stove is necessary (fires may not be allowed) and sometimes it’s simply convenient enough to warrant its use. Some campers want to visit the wild without leaving any more trace of their having been there than can be avoided. A small stove leaves no half-burned sticks, scorched ground or ashes. The stove my son bought seems a reasonable compromise. It uses twigs, not logs, and it’s fast and efficient.

 

In addition to the need for carrying fuel, I have complained that camping stoves, especially small ones, produce a very hot flame over a very small area, and seem primarily suited to cooking soup or making tea. Will my son’s new stove work better for cooking other things? That’s the twenty-four-thousand dollar question. It looks as though it might. I’ll be even more interested in getting one myself if it does. After all, it’s very hard to meet the outdoor cooking challenge if all you can readily do is boil water. Love to hear what others have to say about camp cooking stoves. Thank you for visiting my blog.



Sourdough Apple-cinnamon Upside-down Cake

I love the smells of fall. Dried leaves. Fall fields. Wood smoke is certainly a signature fall fragrance, and there are many foods that stand out as signs of the season. What could be more fall-like than apples, cinnamon and ginger? Put them together with molasses, honey and brown sugar and you have the beginning of a delicious fall cake. Of course, it has to be done with sourdough.

This cake is a bit of a challenge at a campsite in that you probably won’t have unlimited bowls, electric mixers, or even a hand beater, but with a little effort it can be done. Start with the topping. For this, mix together a rounded teaspoon of flour with a tablespoon of butter and a tablespoon of brown sugar. Use this mix to coat the sliced apples. Arrange pecans on the bottom of a greased pan, and cover with the topping. Sprinkle any leftover mix over the top.

For the cake batter, cream three tablespoons butter with two tablespoons of brown sugar until all is light and fluffy. Add the egg and mix well. Add ¼ cup half-and-half (or evaporated milk) and mix again, then add ½ teaspoon vanilla and ¼ cup sourdough start1er. Mix until blended.

Mix ½ cup flour with ¼ teaspoon salt, ¼ teaspoon baking soda. Add to wet mixture a third at a time, mixing just until blended. Alternate flour mixture with molasses, honey, and hot water mixture. When batter is blended, incorporate the raisins. Pour batter over the topping and bake in a 350⁰ oven about ½ hour. When a toothpick comes out clean, remove from oven and invert on a dish. Let stand ten to fifteen minutes to allow the cake drop from the pan onto the plate.

Topping

1 Tbs. brown sugar

1 Rounded tsp. flour
1 Tbs. butter
6 pecan halves (or ¼ cup chopped pecans) and ½ cup dried apple slices

 Cake Batter

Wet ingredients

3 Tbs. butter (creamed)
2 Tbs. brown sugar
1 egg
¼ cup half-and-half (or evaporated milk)
½ tsp. vanilla
¼ cup sourdough starter

 Dry ingredients

½ cup all purpose, unbleached flour
¼ tsp. baking soda
¼ tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. ginger
¼ tsp. cinnamon

 Molasses-Honey mixture: ¼ cup equal parts honey, molasses, hot water