Month: August 2020

We just did another round of replenishing our staples; mostly for the birthday party tomorrow.

As we were driving down the streets, I was able to smell, in different places, the aroma of frying and/or grilling onions; something we have not smelled since last year. One of my favorite odors.

Now, we are sitting at a sidewalk table at the Copacabana, just down the street from Sam’s Club. We had lunch here, and are relaxing while our to-go burritos, for the family, are being made. Actually, here they called burros because they are so large.

I have to say there is nothing quite like the feeling of being on vacation every day instead of once a year. We are enjoying every day as it comes.

Here is what we saw at the Copa. (Feel free to break into song. Barry Manilow will thank you).

We each had one taco of brains, cheeks, tongue, jowls, and, steak. Brains, (sesos), not our favorite here. They were too soft. A little crispy would have been better. We both agreed.

It is overcast at the moment, and about sixty eight degrees. The perfect day to ride around town, seeing what is rejuvenating and what has closed, permanently.

Until we get done delivering our bounty, stay happy, stay healthy, stay safe. Wash your hands, cover your mouth, and protect your loved ones.

OMG!!! I went out to the kitchen, just a while ago, to finish putting away the remains of our supper, when I caught this out of the corner of my eye. I could not believe it. Wait until you see it. You will not believe it either.

I could not believe it. I have been dumping, and feeding, repeat, twice a day, for about sevenish days, with little, or nothing to show for it. All of a sudden, when I looked at the measuring cup, I could not longer see through the glass. I have always been able to see through the glass. What was happening? Could it be taking off, finally? YES! It did. It is. You know what I mean.

I am going to relax, go back to the bedroom, start typing this post so you folks can see what happens when you group your living fungal colonies within drifting distance of one another.

In the past, I was taught to keep different cultures at least five feet from each other, so they do not cross contaminate. Yesterday, however, I got to thinking that if the bacteria and yeast are all floating around in the atmosphere, what possible difference could it make how close together they sat on the countertop?! Let the experiment begin.

You can see for yourselves, from the above photos, it makes only a positive difference. I was getting nowhere with them across the room from each other; now we have sourdough, and, kombucha. Success in my estimation.

While I am now, more patiently, awaiting a loaf of crusty, crunchy crusted, open crumbed, soft interior artisanal sourdough bread, stay happy, stay healthy, stay safe. Wash your hands, cover your mouth, protect your loved ones.

PS: happy birthday, honey.

Tomorrow is my husbands birthday. Happy birthday, honey.

In celebration, (we have been planning this since my birthday), we are going to have dry aged sirloin steaks for dinner. What are dry aged steaks, you ask? Let me show you.

Disclaimer: this is not for the faint of heart. Some photos may be unpleasant. Viewer discretion is advised.

Ok. You have been told about the photos I am going to post. Let me start by telling you what happens during the dry aging process, and, why we have waited thirty days to eat a steak.

We bought a primal cut of sirloin late last month, after having procured dry aging bags online, probably from Amazon, (where else?). Be assured, you need to get the bags first.

What is a primal cut? Google it, then you will not forget. I can only do so much 😉

Ok. Continuing on- we got the bags, got the meat, used the vacuum sealer to partially seal the end, then, had to use a baggy clip for the rest of the seal. (Oft times one needs improvise). Plenty of videos to watch on how to dry age meat. I like Sous Vide Everything. The guy’s name is Guga, and, he loves steak.

Normally, when one purchases a primal cut, it is taken home, cut into individual steaks, grilled, and, consumed; all within a relatively short amount of time. We, however, brought it home, put it in a wicking bag, sealed it, and, put in the refrigerator, on a cooling rack, to be left there for thirty days.

Here is what we have at day twenty eight. Ready?

When we take it out of the bag day after next, Ivan will trim off, but save, all of the outside of the primal. All of the fat, all of the meat, down about one quarter, to possibly, one half inch; whatever is needed to debride the dried exterior. (Save the cuttings, so when you make your own ground beef, or sausage, you can add some of the savings for better flavor. It does not taste good in this application).

What will be left is still a significant piece of beef that he will cut into one and one half to two inch steaks. We should be able to get at least five, if not six steaks out of this. If you ever get to go out to a nice restaurant again, check the price of a dry aged sirloin steak. An eight ounce steak can easily cost you forty five, or fifty dollars. Doing this ourselves saved us more than half of that cost.

The taste? In a word, amazing. It is completely different than a fresh steak, more nutty, more depth. I know how that sounds, and, many will say why? We say why not? It took a month, but it was worth every day.

We waited, and were rewarded with beautiful steaks. I will be sure to take photos of them throughout the process, all the way to the grill.

Until then, stay happy, stay healthy, stay safe. Wash your hands, cover your mouth, protect your loved ones.

Quite the productive day, today. I have gotten so much done, actually, yesterday, and, today. Here goes.

When I opened the bottle of kombucha, not much happened, at first. The mango, and blueberries all floated up into the neck of the bottle, with a small amount of fizz. Wow! Just what I was hoping. Just as it should be on day three.

I say floated, when, what I really mean is that they were jammed up into the neck with quite a force behind them. That “small amount of fizz”, was just the beginning of what was building up behind it, as well.

Fortunately, I looked into the middle of the bottle and saw how fast things were moving. I got the swing cap back on the bottle top just shortly after the geyser started to erupt.

I reached the sink, with just a slight spray to the face, inverted the bottle, (that sent everything that could move to the other end of the bottle, temporarily), grabbed a large glass out of the dish drainer, (another excellent reason not to rush to put your dishes away ;), opened the bottle into the glass, and, let it pour. Effervescence everywhere. Bliss.

Unfortunately, I could not take a photo while all of that was happening, and, in truth, it took less than a minute from open to pour. You cannot see any of the carbonization in the glass as the mango bits are floating all around. Trust me, though, they are there. My kombucha lives!!! Score.

I nestled the sourdough starter right up tight, with the kombucha, in hopes that they will help each other during their struggles to remain alive in this oxygen-depleted environment. It is the only thing I can think of to do for them both. If anyone has any ideas about fermentation at almost eight thousand feet above sea level, I am anxious to know what it is. It is absolutely nothing like doing this from whence we came. That sort of worked all by itself. Not so here.

Until I can get these cultures happy, and healthy, you do that for each other, will you? Stay happy, stay healthy, stay safe. Wash your hands, cover your mouth, protect your loved ones. Until next time.

I had a couple of hours, whilst I was supposedly sleeping, to contemplate how I should rearrange the kitchen. This afternoon, I did just that. Here are the results.

I cannot tell you how many times I have forgotten a certain something in the produce tier, only to find it decomposing on the rack, in the back, of course. Yuck! So, now that I brought it over, in front of my eyes, I should have a bit better control over the beast.

In the new fermentation station, in the back, you will see the eleven bottles of newly bottled kombucha! They are just starting their second fermentation, all of them with mango, and blueberries. Hopefully they will taste better than the first batch I made.

In the little jar that is covered, is my second, actually my third attempt at a sourdough starter. Sometimes I find it full of bubbles, then, the next time, nothing. What the heck? I am not giving up. I will do this until we have a loaf of sourdough bread if it takes me another year to get it to live!

In the bowl, to the left, is the SCOBY (the “mother” that feeds on the tea, and sugar she is fed, thus producing kombucha in return), that developed in the second two gallon container. It turned to a sour vinegar, because someone was too lazy to deal with it, so I dumped it out this afternoon. Sometimes you just have to do what you have to do. Until I better understand the fermentation cycle down here, I am limiting myself to only one two gallon container. The other container now contains drinking water. Convenient. Yay!

I ordered a new wok that will be here by Friday, in theory, so we will start doing some Asian style cooking. Unfortunately, however, we still have a freezer full of European meats- Bratwurst, for example. We have three packages of four brats, several packages of Italian sausages, British bangers, plus, thick cut bacon. I am sure they will be taken care of when we get back to that part of the world, on our food journey around the world.

Too funny! Even for me. Until we get back, so to speak, I know you know what to do. In case you are new here, however, stay happy, stay healthy, stay safe. Wash your hands, cover your mouth, and protect your loved ones.

Post script: wait until you see what I have planned for the pantry!

How sad!?

We drove by a whole street of small restaurants that have closed, and, not only do those people have to bear the grief of losing their livelihoods, but, as of just the past few weeks, the exteriors are covered in graffiti!

Not colorful, attractive graffitis, just ugly, black words, spray painted on their places of business. How sad.

Graffiti is springing up everywhere. What a shame. More, and, more on the outside of houses, as well. It is ugly, and, a bit depressing, too. Yes, it has always been here, everywhere, really. It just seems to be more of it now.

I hope things will turn around after the new year, and, in that hope stay healthy, stay happy, stay safe. Wash your hands, cover your mouth, and protect your loved ones.

It is overcast and sixty six degrees, at the moment. I am in Heaven. (Never mind. Within an hour, it shot up to seventy three degrees. Better than ninety three degrees any day).

As I have said, in other posts, this is, evidently the rainy season- June through September. Ok by me!

Really, the only downside is the puddles of standing water. That is not so much on the streets as in the lower level parking garages. They are, in some places, small lakes.

With all the potholes on the streets here, one needs to be ever vigilant, or one will lose a tire and rim.

The upside of warm weather is that my sourdough is taking off like a healthy, living culture should. Let me see if I can upload some photos I just took.

As I just started this culture three days ago, I have all the confidence that I will be able to start baking sourdough bread, or, buns, or, pizza sometime next week. These results, thus far, have come because I have finally figured out that the culture prefers the warmth of our oven, with the light on at night, which increases the temperature about five degrees. Of course you will be able to see the results of my baking, good, or bad, when I have them.

I believe that I have a recent post telling you that this culture is from here, in México City, so it should do well at this altitude. My kombucha, however, remains to be seen. Though I did get the SCOBY, or mother, here in México as well, it is still a work in progress. Trial, and, error. The only way some of us truly learn.

Until those results are in, keep happy, keep healthy, keep safe. Continue to wash your hands, cover your mouth, and protect your loved ones.

There is something special I need to tell you. We have adopted an elephant, from the Jabulani herd of African elephants!! Her name is Piza, and she is only three, or four, years old.

Ivan has been watching this herd of elephants, on YouTube, because, in their herd, they adopted an albino female, named Khanyisa.

Khanyisa, born at the end of the year twenty nineteen, was “injured”, by a snare, that cut about one third of her right ear off, and, slit her mouth open, very much like the “Joker”, so it looked like she had a huge smile. As she was so young, and, without a herd to look after her, she was almost dead when the people of the Orphanage of South Africa, found her, brought her into the Orphanage, and, began the process of healing her wounds, and, introducing her to her, hopefully, new “family”.

The matriarch of the herd, Tokwe, has, over the years, adopted several elephants into her herd. In fact, Jabulani, himself, was found, as an infant elephant, stuck in a silt mud “swamp”, dying of dehydration, after his herd left him to die. He was the beginning of the Jabulani “herd”.

The Jabulani herd is something special, a unique and close-knit family that originates with a little elephant orphan called Jabulani, who arrived at HESC (Hoedspruit Endangered Species Centre) in 1997, and the original herd of hand-reared elephants rescued from Zimbabwe, where they were to be culled during the country’s land reformation process, in 2002.

If you want to see, and, understand more about this amazing family of elephants, go to YouTube, and search for Injured albino elephant Kyanisha. They took her in, after her surgeries, and, she is growing a little bit every day.

I hope you will take a moment, watch the videos available, and, send your love their way. Until then, keep happy, keep healthy, keep safe. Wash your hands, cover your mouth, and keep your loved ones protected.

I was telling Ivan, just a few minutes ago, how much I loathe the words to “Rock-a-bye baby”. I said i did not understand how someone could sing that to a child. Let me refresh you on the words.

Rock-a-bye baby, on the tree top. When the wind blows, the cradle will rock. When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall, and, down will come baby, cradle, and all.

I said, what the heck does that even mean? He explained that, many years ago, when that song was written, (1765 London, to be exact), it was the “norm” for children to die at a very early age. Many did not live beyond the cradle, so, it was a sort of “set up” for the parent- do not get too attached to this child because even a small cough, or cold, or flu would kill the child.

How horrible!!! To think that, prior to effective antibiotics, decent hygiene, etc., the slightest thing could kill your child! Remember, people did not have proper diets, safe proteins, good sewage removal, like we have had for many, many years, and, take for granted.

There is even evidence to suggest the words had something to do with being on large sailing vessels, and, being up in the crows nest, (the cradle). When the bough of the ship broke, the crow’s nest would fall. Frequently, the crows nest was inhabited by the least senior person on the vessel, a youth. So, when there was a storm, and, the front of the ship was destroyed, so, then, was the main mast, or, the “cradle”.

I would like to put to you a different version of this song, using the same music, but, with more encouraging, and, I think, more loving lyrics. I wrote these words, on my lunch break, several years ago. They came to me while I was trying to relax, after a significantly stressful morning in surgery.

Please let me know what you think. If you like them, please, start singing my version to your little ones. I would be so very proud. This is what I would sing.

Rock-a-bye baby, in my loving arms. While you’re asleep, I’ll keep you from harm. When you’re awake, I’ll be here for you- to love you, to guide you, in all that you do.

And, while I await for your response, keep happy, keep healthy, and keep safe. Wash your hands, cover your mouth, and, protect your loved ones.

Things are picking up marginally here. People are venturing out, but few have any real place to go. Few have jobs in which to go back to. Markets have closed, Mom & Pop shops have closed,

I cannot say it often enough- we got out at the perfect time, for us. If we had stayed, and, waited until this year to retire, we probably would have lost our home, our vehicles, our everything. We had no savings, to speak to, though, our credit cards had no balances on them.

People, here, are back, in small groups, trying to make some money in anyway they can. Homes are for sale, apartments for rent, all over the city. It is terribly sad to watch the degradation of this beautiful city, and its culture. I wonder where we will be in the following year.

Farmers have taken to parking their small pickup trucks, filled with their home grown produce, on the streets, in affluent neighborhoods. Pretty smart. Bring the green grocer to the people instead of hoping the people can get to them.

An little anecdote, in passing: We are on the way to Costco, and, just being outside, in the sun, is so invigorating. It seems like years in between the times we get to go outside. Every moment outside is a moment to cherish. Right?

On an entirely different subject, we have started going back to Toks, for the best cup of coffee in the area, plus a bowl of soup. It is close, inexpensive, and safe. The tables are designated as off limits within one and a half meters, one from another. The wait staff all wear masks, and the tables, even the empty ones, are cleaned every two hours, unless they have been used.

When we “get” to go outside, my mind, and, my imagination absolutely explode with things I want to tell you. Frequently, while riding in the car, or, walking through Costco, or Sam’s, I pull out my phone, and, start typing away at a thought I have, or an idea I want to put forth.

Funny. I have always wanted to have some sort of recording device, you know, one of those little hand held recorder, to record different things I wanted to tell someone. Well, I had one, but the grandkids got the most use ours of it- Serena especially. They all enjoyed hearing their own voices being replayed to them. Hah! What a memory.

We are not going out again tomorrow, as we went out today. Rarely do we go out more than one day a week. We are not interested in taking the chance that someone has not sanitized something. We have not medical doctor,yet, not since Dr. Arturo died.

We will find someone soon, but until that happens, stay happy, stay healthy, stay safe. Wash your hands, cover your mouth, and protect your loved ones.