Day 89

Dear all,

A few weekends ago I went fishing for the first time: I caught my first fish, reeled in my first fish, brought home my first fish, cleaned and gutted my first fish, chopped up and breaded my first fish, fried my first fish, and ate my first fish. (There's one crucial step missing here - did you spot it?) I have summarized the experience as ...

How to Catch a Fish: A Play in 3 Acts.

Act I
Scene 1:
Interior. Apartment. (Boy) and (Girl) putting on several layers of woolen clothes.
Girl: I’ve never been fishing before.
Boy: You’re going to like it.
Girl: You do remember my fear of dying on open water?
Boy: This water is frozen.
Girl: Even better. How many inches thick does it have to be so we don’t fall in again?

Scene 2:
Exterior. Side of Lake.
Girl: That sign says “Thin Ice.”
Boy: Did you notice it’s bolted down? That sign is always there. Right next to the “No Swimming” one.
Girl: So if we fall through, we could get arrested for swimming?
Boy: I’m walking out on the lake now. Join me when you’re ready.

Act II: Exterior. On the Lake.
Scene 1:
Girl: I’m mildly reassured by the tire tracks out here.
Boy: Those are airplane tracks.
Girl: Even better.

Scene 2:
Girl: Can I take a turn drilling?
Boy: Sure.
Girl: How many inches did it say we needed before it was safe to walk on?
Boy: Three.
Girl: How far down have you gone so far?
Boy: About eighteen.

Scene 3:
Boy: Hold the line steady and I’ll put the bait on.
Girl: What is the bait?
Boy: Salmon eggs. Painted in glitter.
Girl: If we wanted salmon, would we use trout eggs?
Boy: Lower the line down into the water.
Girl: Here, fishy fishy fishy …

Scene 4:
Girl: Now what?
Boy: You wait for a nibble.
Girl: What does that feel like?
Boy: Like something is pulling slightly at the line.
Girl: Oh. (pause) That’s already happened a few times.

Scene 5:
Boy: Ok, hold the line steady. I’m putting the bait on again.
Girl: Here, fishy fishy fishy.

Scene 6:
Girl: Ooh! A nibble!
Boy: Ok, set the line.
Girl: What’s that mean?
Boy: Jerk your arm upward slightly and quickly to set the hook in the fish’s mouth.
Girl: (throws arm over head) Like this?
Boy: I think that might have overdone it.

Scene 7:
Boy: Reel it in! Reel it in!
Girl: How? What? Where?
Boy: (grabs line at end of pole and pulls fish up hand over hand)
Girl: I think the line is frozen in the reel.

Scene 8:
Girl: It’s a fish! And it’s … flopping madly on the ice. Now what?
Boy: Now you bonk it.
Girl: Oh. With what?
Boy: With … oh, we forgot to bring a bonker.

Scene 9:
Boy: Wow … you really got this hook caught in his mouth.

Scene 10:
Girl: Now what?
Boy: Just lay the fish over there. No, lay it flat.
Girl: Ok. Now what?
Boy: Now we do it again.
Girl: I think it’s your turn. (pause) I'll do the singing part. Here, fishy fishy fishy …

Act III: Interior. Apartment.
Scene 1
Boy: Take one of the fish out of the sink.
Girl: They’re so slippery … and slimy … how are you supposed to hold them?
Boy: And insert the knife at the anus, and slit upwards.
Girl: Why does eating meat always require some kind of involvement with animal butts?

Scene 2:
Girl: Akh!
Boy: What?
Girl: It jumped when I started cutting it up.
Boy: It’s just spinal reflex. Cut off the head.
Girl: Akh! It jumped again.
Boy: Did you get the head off?
Girl: Now I have, yes. (keeps cutting) Akh! (pause) You can finish this one up.

Scene 3:
Boy: How does it taste?
Girl: Delicious. And a little fishy.

[first bite]

The end.

ps - The missing step? I was not the one who actually KILLED my first fish. Next time.

Day 38

Dear all,

Chester came down to the Peninsula this weekend and we sat by the fire and read for a while. That’s what Friday nights are for, right? (What’s that? Some people go out partying on Friday night? Ok, but how do you get to sit by a fireplace with your boyfriend and read Jane Austen and drink tea if you are out of the house? I don’t understand.)

Also this weekend we hiked Skyline, a trail leading up a smallish mountain in part of the National Wildlife Refuge. (Though really, what isn’t part of the wildlife refuge around here?) I’m going to be honest and admit that the first 15 minutes were fun, the next hour and change were not as much fun, and the 45 minutes heading down were fun again.


[The first fifteen minutes.]

I was prepared for the cold this time: I knew that my fingers especially would tingle a bit at the beginning but once I got moving I would warm up. I started out the trail wearing boots, a long sleeve thermal shirt and wool sweater, and snow pants. Part way up I took the sweater off (and sometimes I was wishing I could remove the pants, too).


[I think what’s happening here is Chester doing a flip – back down the way we came. I, however, was not about to sacrifice any of my hard-earned gain just to have to repeat it.]

The path wasn’t straight up all the way, but there were parts where I needed all four feet (you know, the two under my hips and the two coming out of my shoulders) in order to keep going. Usually this was just from the ice – where the snow was deep I could kick my feet in and get a good grip. (Or I could let Chester go first, and use his footsteps as a kind of ladder. You know.)


[About half-way up, I start contemplating what would happen if I just rolled all the way back down.]

“It isn’t that hard a hike,” says Chester. “Easier than the Precipice one we did in Acadia.”
Me: “The sign says ‘Very Strenuous.’ Isn’t that the most difficult rating?”
Chester: “That’s just for tourists.”
Me: “I think that in situations like this, you should consider me still a tourist.”

We didn’t make it all the way up, only ¾ of the way. Let’s pretend this was only because we were having friends over for dinner and needed to get home to start cooking (which was true) and not because I was too tired to keep going (which was also true).


[This is as far as we got. It was beautiful. I’m sorry you still can’t see my face – I was not exactly up for smiling.]

So, we had friends over for Beef Wellington. One of the girls brought the ingredients, but instead of beef she had Caribou Wellington (from a recent hunt) and Moose Wellington (from a recent road kill) – all deliciously wrapped in mushrooms and bacon and puff pastry. Well, the wrapping looked delicious – I only ate the meat inside. (I am consistent if not stringent in my kosher-keeping.) To round it out I made steak fries, garlic bread, and chocolate chip cookies. There was lots of music playing, a little bit of crocheting and knitting, and a good fire going – and let me tell you, there’s nothing like a mountain hike, a belly full of Caribou, a chocolate chip cookie shared with the boyfriend, and a warm fire to give one a good night’s sleep. Oh, and friends. Friends are good too.



Much love,

Day 35

Dear all,

You may recall that I don’t really know how to cook meat. The majority of my leaving-the-home and thus-learning-to-cook-on-my-own years were also my vegetarian years (give or take a few hamburgers here and there). Last year I decided that, even though I still prefer to think of meat as an optional part of a meal and not an integral one, I still should know how to cook it for the benefit of family, friends, and assorted other guests. (As Jewish folklore has taught me, the prophet Elijah could show up on my doorstep at any point and I assume he would prefer chicken over tofu.) Therefore I have continued what began when I hosted Thanksgiving two years ago and discovered, to my utter amazement and frustration, that roasting poultry is harder than it at first looks. The Great Chicken Endeavor continues.

The Great Chicken Endeavor Goal of 2010: Learn how to roast a chicken.

The Great Chicken Endeavor Goal of 2011: Learn how to roast a chicken correctly.

(Some of you – especially HJ, who I think was on the phone with me at the time -- may recall that the first goal was indeed met last year, but only by accidentally roasting the chicken upside down. Hence this year's goal.)


Unit GCE 2011, Day 1.

Objectives: to successfully roast a chicken, right-side up.

Steps to achieving objective:


Step 1: Buy chicken, assemble ingredients


[I find it mildly disconcerting that this chicken was grown on the West Coast. Remember when plants were grown and animals, such as the chicken, were raised?]


Step 2: Discover that, though handling giblets is in general of a disturbance to you, having to fish them out of the inner cavity because they did not come in the nice little bag is, shall we say, somewhat grosser.


Step 3: Also discover that you have no twine with which to tie the legs, and you cannot understand what it could mean to “tuck wings under” the bird. After a few tries and a simulated walk across the counter (in which you are able to discern which way the chicken would have stood in order to walk), decide that you have in fact placed the chicken with the correct side up.


[Why do they call it "breast side up" when "belly up" would make so much more sense?]

Step 4: Rub with oil and paprika blend and, with a grimace, stuff two cut heads of garlic into the cavity. Wonder briefly what they mean by “both cavities.” Then remember that the original recipe called for two chickens to be roasted side-by-side, and move on.

Step 5: Roast. Check temperature periodically, discovering that with a chicken this small (4lbs) you are really not sure what constitutes the “thickest part of the thigh.” Originally believe that you are not even entirely sure what the thigh is, but then recall the simulated walk the naked chicken did across the counter and realize that the smaller appendages must be wings and thus, the larger ones thighs. (Hopefully.)


Step 6: Make caramelized carrots with feta and chive-black pepper biscuits. No problems there.


Step 7: Call sister (the one with a biology major) to try and figure out which one of the giblets is the liver, as that one shouldn’t go in the stock pot.


Step 8: Throw out the one that is your best guess (the grayish one that is lonely, as the smaller red round ones that come in pairs must be the kidneys?) and dump the rest into the simmering stock.


Step 9: Ignore the stock for a while, and decide to eat dinner.


Step 10: Feel lonely. Wish that your boyfriend were there to share it, and compliment you heartily on this, the first chicken attempt of 2011.


Final assessment:


[Please tell me that this is, in fact, right-side-up.]


Objectives for the next lesson:

-Buy baker’s twine.

-Learn how to “tuck under” the wings.

-Reduce amount of giblet-disturbance by 50%.

-Learn how to carve a chicken.

-Wait to cook it until someone is there to share it with you.


Much love,

Day 25

Hi everyone,

First of all, I know I promised to send these out more frequently than every 10 days. If you count my failed attempt two days ago, then I succeeded. If you don't count that, then I'm sorry, I lied.

Secondly, sometimes I'm bad about being in touch with the people I care about. I was hearing from family members that they were forwarding on my messages to friends and others asking how I was doing, so partly by request and partly by arrogance (I'm vain enough to assume you'll want to receive updates on how I'm doing) I've added a lot more family and friends to these emails. If you don't want to receive them, I won't be offended - just let me know. If you want to order any back issues (Alaska-gram Days 1, 5, and 16) just give me an email. They cost 3 cookies apiece (I accept chocolate-chip or oatmeal, no raisins).

So, to answer the question "what exactly are you doing up there?" here's what my week often looks like:

Monday: Cooking/Baking. I've made a lot of soup, a little bit of meatballs (which, surprisingly, turned out ok) and a lot of bread. I also tried to make croissants, which was a disastrous failure, but oh well - it just means I can only improve next time.

Sometimes the three-year-old at the house helps me cook. Here was our conversation while counting the butter sticks needed for the croissant dough.

Me: One stick of butter ...
E: One ...
Me: What comes after one?
E: Um... Not-one!
Me: Well, true. Also - two. Two sticks of butter.
E: Two!
Me: What comes after two?
E: Um ... one!

Tuesday: Continuing Attempts to Learn the Guitar. No photos of this one, sorry. Tuesday night is "Bluegrass Night" at Guido's Pizza. (You can't make this stuff up, people.) It's a motley collection of people in their 40s and 50s learning to play guitar, fiddle, banjo, and one guy with what looks to me only like a stick, washtub, and a big string. Well, some people are learning to play, and some already know how. (And some who apparently already know how still appear, to me, to be learning.) Chester plays fiddle there and I knit. I'm working up the courage to bring along his guitar. After all, I already know the three chords they play.

Wednesday: Bible Study. Chester gets together with a bunch of his friends from high school and I contribute in the best way I know, namely, food. Last week I made a big stir fry and, that's right, Bible verse fortune cookies.



Thursday: Miscellany Night! Sometimes we go to movies at the Bear's Tooth, which is a local restaurant that also happens to have a movie screen. They took out every other row of seats and replaced them with tables, so you can order your pizza or burrito and then eat it while you watch the movie. Here's my advice: if you are going to see an action movie with lots of killings (RED), don't order something with lots of tomato sauce (chicken and mushroom pizza). Both would probably be pretty good, if separate from each other.

Sometimes we hit up thrift stores to buy things like wool pants for hiking and ice skates for, well, ice skating. So far I'm sticking to things that require a level surface - hiking, snow shoeing, ice skating, and hopefully soon cross country skiing. Maybe soon we'll up the stakes, so to speak, with something more downhill. But first I'm still getting used to the cold -- I only lasted 10 minutes when we tried ice skating, but I'm hoping to try again this weekend. As long as it above 20 degrees.

Last week on Thursday Chester and I went to the local Brewer's warehouse and picked up the supplies for beer. I tried to take pictures of the process, but it basically just looks like a giant pot of really gross tea boiling on the stove, so it wasn't too picturesque. The beer is currently sitting in the bucket, doing its fermenting thing, but I think there'll be some bottling this weekend so stay tuned for updates.
(Side note: we picked the combination of malts by taste, but if I had the choice I would have picked the recipe for "You're-A-Peein' Altbeer" or "Stinky Hermit Stout" just for name alone.)



Fridays we try to head to the Peninsula where Chester grew up, for outdoor adventuring (for me, "brief strolls" for Chester) and meeting up with friends and family. In the times between, I'm looking for work, trying to get my licensure transferred (a simply ridiculous series of red tape hurdles), and reading some books I've always meant to read. I just finished Kavalier and Clay and, for those of you who kept telling me to read it, you were right. It is simply wonderful.

As are all of you.

Love –


Addendum:
The video that failed to work in the last email -- I've put it up here. (Or I will, as soon as I can figure out how.)
This should (will) show up as little video. If so, you can click on it. If you click on the triangle symbol on the bottom left-hand, the video should start playing. If you accidentally click twice, it will start to play and then pause itself, so you'll have to try clicking again. If this doesn't work, you might need to ask a Grandchild. The video is short - 15 seconds - and the sound is mostly just the noise of the truck. AT the end you can hear me say, "I don't think I did that right" (which I hadn't), and then Chester starts laughing.