Sunday, March 16, 2014

A Proper Pair of Walking Shoes

If you’re planning a trip abroad -- or anywhere – and you know you’ll be doing more walking than usual, you really must invest in a pair of comfortable shoes.  My daughter preached this to me many times back in 2011, when I was in England for six months.  I didn’t take her advice – instead I made do with my grungy old tennis shoes, and I was always suffering from lower back pain and/or aching legs.

So this time around I decided to get myself some proper walking shoes: I went out to Burnham’s in Columbus and purchased a pair of SAS walkers.  The style I chose was called “Bounce.”



I winced when I first picked them off the shelf; these are not pretty, feminine shoes – no sex appeal whatsoever.  And when I tried them on, they looked like those horrible, black, old lady shoes my great aunts used to wear.  On top of that, they weren’t cheap (around $100) – though much more palatable with my 20%-off coupon!

So here are my feet enjoying the comfort of my beautiful SAS shoes:




I am not kidding – my feet really do enjoy these shoes!  Walking in them is a pleasure; there is no pain.  I could walk and walk and walk and walk!  They are truly worth the high price.

And there’s a reason for that price: these shoes are handmade in the USA.  They are not mass produced in sweat shops in Malaysia, using cheap man-made materials (although for some parts of this shoe, man-made products are used).  They are made by folks in Texas, using real leather (all pieces for one pair cut from the same hide), and hand-sewn and hand-fabricated.


Photo from http://www.buzzle.com/articles/sas-shoes-for-men.html

Do you know what SAS stands for?  I didn’t. It stands for San Antonio Shoes, because that’s where the company started out back in the late 1970s.  The preferred way to say the name of these shoes it to say the letters: S – A – S, however lots of folks pronounce SAS as a word, “sass.”  How their customers say their name is not as important to the manufacturer as how they enjoy the comfort of SAS shoes (according to a statement on the SAS webpage).


Take a look at this short video showing how SAS shoes are made.  I guarantee you will be impressed!  It will make you want to run out and buy a pair of these fantastic shoes.  And, you should – especially if you are looking forward to long walks on your future vacation or just treks around your neighborhood park.



Monday, March 3, 2014

Laissez Les Bon Temps Rouler!


In celebration of Mardi Gras, which is this Tuesday (March 4), we ate a New Orleans- inspired Sunday night dinner in Oxford at Spencer House.  One of my favorite New Orleans main dishes is stuffed eggplant (stuffed with crab and shrimp), but I knew at least one of my crew didn’t like seafood, so I nixed that as the entree.  I also thought about trying to replicate dishes of some of New Orleans’ fancy restaurants: Antoine’s (pommes de terre or eggs Sardou), Commander’s (turtle soup) or the long-gone Corinne Dunbar’s on St. Charles Avenue (Daube Creole).  But, in the end I opted for a much more practical approach and chose a truly-iconic New Orleans restaurant as my model:  Popeye's!

For our menu we had a traditional Popeye’s menu:  red beans and rice, with some fried chicken on the side (both mild and spicy).  Red beans and rice is a New Orleans staple; in the old days it was always made on Monday, which was wash day.  To this day, many New Orleans restaurants and schools served red beans and rice on Monday as the special.

To make New Orleans red beans, ideally you should have Camellia Red Beans.  Last time I came to Oxford, I brought two bags of Camellia Red Beans with me.  This time I had to settle for dried, waxed red kidney beans from the Co-op – not quite the same, but a worthy substitute.  Of course, you have to soak them in a bowl of water overnight to soften them up.

Another key ingredient for New Orleans red beans and rice is pickle meat.  Well of course, no butcher or meat market in Oxford carries pickle meat, which is basically pickled pork – so I had to make my own.  There are recipes on the web that show how to do this. However, I devised my own.  I bought a fresh ham hock from the butcher in the Covered Market, and on Saturday I boiled the hell out of it – in a broth of water and vinegar, with salt and pepper and bay leaves thrown in the pot.  Then I took a tea ball (all English kitchens have one of those little mesh balls laying around) and filled it with pickling spices and hung it over the rim of the pot, so it floated in the bubbling broth.  I boiled the mixture (low boil after a while) for about 5 hours.  When I pulled the meat out, it just fell off the bone, and the color was deep red like the delicious pickle meat of New Orleans.  And, it actually tasted a bit like pickle meat!

I fixed the beans on Sunday. They had soaked overnight – rinsed them and then started frying up some smoked sausage.  I could have purchased chorizo, but I opted for something milder for the students.  I used a bit of the fat from the ham hock (of which there was a-plenty) to create a bit of seasoned grease, to which I added a bit of olive oil.  Once the sausage was browned, I removed it and sautéed the famous trinity – chopped onion, celery and bell pepper – with a couple of cloves of minced garlic thrown in at the end.  When that was done, I dumped everything into a large pot (along with bay leaves, salt and pepper, oregano and a small bit of Cajun seasoning) – and brought it to a boil; then I let it simmer for about 6 hours – making sure to stir occasionally, to be sure no beans were sticking to the bottom of the pot.



Fixing the chicken was time-consuming, but well worth it.  I’d bought a whole chicken and 7 drumsticks for our party of 6.  The way I cut up the chicken, I get 11 pieces (no backs – which I love, but they take up too much room in the pan).  I had 2 large pans of vegetable oil which I got very hot (hot enough to completely brown a square of bread in 60 seconds).  Then I divided the chicken in half and floured it in 2 batches – mild and spicy.  The mild just had salt and pepper in the flour; the spicy had Cajun seasoning thrown in. 

Next came the frying of the chicken, which took about 30 minutes altogether.  Now here’s the secret for perfectly fried chicken: You have to divide your 30 minutes into 4 segments.  First, put the chicken in the hot oil and put a lid on the pan, and cook it for 6 minutes.   After 6 minutes, take the lid off and continue frying for 9 more minutes.  Then turn the chicken over and repeat the process:  6 minutes covered and 9 minutes uncovered.  At the end of that, take the chicken out and drain on paper towels.  I had two pans of chicken frying at once – 18 pieces in all.  It was a major success – only 2 wings left after our dinner for six!

With the red beans, of course, I fixed rice. We also had a salad, reminiscent of the simple salad that my mother used to fix:  lettuce, tomatoes, and hard-boiled egg, mixed up with mayonnaise.  Two of the students fixed the salad; in addition to the basic ingredients, they added peas and cheese.  Instead of mayo, they used “salad crème,” which is a British product that resembles salad dressing.  It was a fabulous salad!



Missing from the meal was some crusty New Orleans French bread.  The student responsible for the bread made an error in judgment – well, a couple of errors, actually.  First, he didn’t buy French bread. What he bought looked kind of like French bread, but it was called “Malted Grain” bread.  It would have worked, but his second mistake was he bought it too early – on Friday.  About an hour before we were scheduled to eat, we took the bread out of the wrapper and it was like a baseball bat!  Even when we broke it open, it was hard and dry inside.  However, not to worry!  The student put on his rain gear and dash out into the stormy night, down to Summertown, to retrieve a precious loaf of French bread.  Alas, on a Sunday evening, there was not one French bread loaf to be found, so he settled for buttery croissants (they ARE French!).  They were quite good, and were a very good substitute under the circumstances…



Well, then we had dessert.  For this, we left our Popeye’s menu (passing on Mardi Gras cheese cake or cream cheese and fruit-filled fried pies) and went the classy route:  Mile High Ice Cream Pie – a la Pontchartrain Hotel.  Basically, you make a pie shell and fill it with 3 layers of iced cream (which you have let soften).  We used vanilla, strawberry and chocolate; the Pontchartrain uses peppermint ice cream instead of strawberry, but I was not about to try my hand at mixing up vanilla ice cream and crushed peppermints.  By the way, the strawberry was good, but I usually use coffee ice cream as my third choice.  

You freeze the ice cream pie, while you make the meringue, which requires the whites of 8 large eggs, ½ cup of sugar, along with a bit of vanilla and cream of tarter.  Whip it up until it’s stiff and literally “pile” it onto the frozen pie.  It ends up being about 8 inches high – spectacular!  Bake it in at 450F oven for 3 to 5 minutes – don’t let it get too brown. 



It’s difficult to cut (use a warm knife).  Then, over this decadent masterpiece, you drizzle a bit of rich hot fudge sauce.  Here is where I compromised.  You are supposed to make the sauce out of heavy cream and sweet chocolate – I opted for M&S store-bought chocolate sauce in a squeeze bottle.  It didn’t seem to matter!  Everyone gobbled up the pie – one of the guys even had seconds!



So that’s what we ate for our Mardi Gras meal in Oxord.  It was a delicious meal and it was nice that we had company (2 guests).  While we ate, we could occasionally glance up at the monitors and have a look at Mardi Gras Cam, watching the Krewe of Thoth parade – live! 




I regretted not bringing Mardi Gras beads to throw to our diners from behind the monitor.  When I was a teenager, my brother and I used to do this to my father, who, by that that time, had sworn off carnival parades.  We’d crouch behind the massive TV console in the living room while a parade was being shown, holler “Throw me something, Mister,” and hurl beads at Papa Cuckoo (terms of endearment).  He was never much impressed...