How Not to Cook a Steelhead

Steelhead trout (Picture source: my photo album)


How Not to Cook a Steelhead
(I really, really wish I had taken a picture.)
By Packrat Sue

Move oven rack to the center of the oven

Preheat oven to 450 degrees Fahrenheit

Take a largish (28 inches long) whole fish
(cleaned of course)
(In this case, a highly prized steelhead
from the Salmon River in Idaho)
Rinse it with fresh cold water
Drop it on the floor
Rinse the fish again
Drop it on the floor
Say a bad word or two

Try to hold on to fish
long enough to get it back into the sink
without the dogs or cats getting to it first.
Rinse the fish again
Finally get smart
Leave the fish in the sink
Pat it dry with paper towels
Pick it up to turn it over
Drop fish again
(luckily in the sink this time)
Pat it dry again

Wash hands and splash soap on the fish
Rinse hands well
Rinse sink and fish again
Pat fish and sink dry
Carefully turn the fish
Pat the other side dry

Go into the bathroom and wash hands

Look for heavy paper grocery sacks
None to be found
Only light-weight brown sacks
Grab two. That should work.
Butter insides of both sacks
More butter on my sleeves than the sacks
because sleeves won't stay pushed up

Wash hands again cuz have you ever tried
picking up an already slippery fish with
greasy hands??? (No comment.)

Get fish into first paper bag
Wrap it tight
Get second paper bag on fish
Wrap it tight
Put package on large cookie sheet
Use weight of fish to hold down the extra paper

Put fish in oven
Set timer
Scrub potatoes
Put potatoes in microwave
Start to play solitaire

Jump three feet off chair when the smoke alarm goes off.
Realize that there is smoke billowing out
of every crack in the range.
Try to get the dogs out of the way to get to the smoke alarm.
Dogs are barking and just about
knocking me over because they can't stand the noise.
Get smoke alarm into bathroom
and shut the door so it stops screeching.

Wade through the whimpering/whining dogs.
Get back to kitchen to see even more smoke billowing
out of the oven and burners.
Reach to turn off oven.

Oh OH NO!
I left the oven on the Preheat setting.
The broiler had been on all this time.
Turn off oven.
Wait five minutes
Carefully open oven door
The paper bags had come unwrapped from around fish
and are touching the top element in the oven.
The bags burst into flame again.
Slam door shut.
Wait another five minutes.
Carefully open oven door
Bags are still glowing and start to flare up.
Slam shut oven door
Wait ten minutes
Open oven door
Black pieces of paper EVERYWHERE
The fish is black.
I am in tears.

Brush burned stuff off fish best I can.
Oh, only skin is burned and the fish isn't quite done.
Return fish to 350 degree oven
NOT using the preheat setting.
Paper residue burns up

Get potatoes
Quickly slice
Fry potatoes for a few minutes.
Remove fish from oven and remove burned skin

Eat the most delicious dinner of fish, charred paper, and fried potatoes.

The fish was delicious. It was done to perfection and tasted like it had been cooked over an open campfire.

****

Genealogy , Looking "Alike", and a Game

Sherry over at Please, Contain Your Excitement wrote a wonderful post about her relationship with one of her brothers. I cried - happy tears. Please go check it out. In her post, Sherry mentioned that some people didn't think she and her brother looked alike and others thought they did. I'll let you decide. :)

This comment about looking alike got me to thinking about one of the crazy "games" I have played since I was just a little girl. I like to look at people and pictures of people and look for family resemblances. It is such a habit that I just automatically do it now. A side benefit or curse is that I remember faces, but not always remember names or where I've seen the person.

Here is an explanation as to why I do this. There were several "falling outs" in my family - on my mom and dad's side. (All these happened before I was born. Thank God some have been mended.) These rifts caused the families to split and not speak to or acknowledge each other. (My family was notorious for this!) Both of my grandmothers told me about (at least some of) these splits (for several reasons), but they were especially worried about the newest one. What if I met and fell in love with a first cousin?* (At least they didn't have to worry about it being a sibling!)

So, starting with the wild imagination and "self-centeredness" of a little girl, I have spent my whole life looking at people and wondering if they are related to me. I'm still doing it, but in a little more grown up way. Now I look and wonder if we are related (slight difference in the thinking process - lol).

But since I started doing genealogy, it isn't all about me or just my family (tho it generally is). I like to look at other people's old photos and look for family resemblances to help them piece the puzzles together. Sometimes I can help, sometimes not. (I'm not psychic. lol) Then, there is the area where I live. The denizens were, until the last 30 years or so, predominately German Catholic. They tended to be very leery of newcomers. (We're newcomers.) Result? Lots of inter-marriages and lots of people who look alike (and unfortunately a high birth rate of people with handicaps).

What I have learned by doing this is that there is more to this than looking at just facial features. There are certain facial expressions, the hair, body build/type , types of walks, and stance. If you are lucky and get to talk to people, there is the sound of the voice itself, certain inflections, the phrases that certain families use. (This all helps, but it isn't proof that people are related.)

I have learned that there is no pattern to what people look like. Siblings can and do look and act completely different. Distant cousins can and often look almost identical. A son might not look anything like his father, but his son will look exactly like his grandfather. Sometimes, children are "spitting images" of one parent or a mixture of both. Some people look the same their whole life. Others change drastically. One child will be so completely different from the rest that it makes everyone wonder who that child "really belongs to". Really, I know/knew this, but I have to consciously remember it.

Now for the * !

When I was a senior in high school, I spent a weekend visiting my best grade school friend, and she introduced me two of her friends who just happened to be boys. (At the time, I didn't know their last names or realize that they were younger than us! ) We went out and around town as teens do. I specifically remember that night because it was really cold out and we put the top down on my friend's mom and dad's car and couldn't get it back up. Oops. For some reason, I had an immediate "aversion" to one of the boys. He was nice enough, but I just didn't really want to be partnered with him. No, I never saw them again after that night, either.

In about 2003 or 2004, I was doing some family research and found where one of my male cousins was going to attend his 30 year high school reunion. There was a graduation picture of him. HOLY CARP. I had partied with my first cousin (whom, of course, I didn't know was my cousin)! Thank goodness he was partnered with my girlfriend. Nothing really terrible happened, but still...

Obviously, I didn't see any family resemblance. So much for my game.

Pantry History

UPDATED 6:10 PM

In Blogland, there seems to be quite a bit of interest in stocking up - on food and other items. There is a renewed interest in gardening. People seem to want to make food and cleaning products from scratch. Some people want to save money. Some are worried about the economy. Some want to have a supply for emergencies such as natural disasters. Some do it as part of their religion. Some are trying to get away from commercially processed foods with all of the additives and preservatives. Some are worried about the environment. Some are doing this for a combination of these reasons.

***

A while back, I mentioned to P at The Chicken Coop http://motherhen68.wordpress.com/ that I would post how and what I stock in my pantry. Here is the history of why I keep a stocked pantry.

I learned the hard way that I needed to start a pantry. A few months after my husband and I were married, my husband took a job in Oregon where his work site was about 20 miles from anywhere. We lived in a tiny town that was 50 miles from any town large enough to support a real grocery store. And, sometimes in the winter the highways in all directions would be closed. This "town" that we lived in had a bar, a "drug" store (kind of a junky store without a pharmacist), a gas station (that sold only gas and oil), a grocery store, a tiny library (I think I read almost every book in it), two or three churches (one served several denominations), a school, a post office, and a fast food "cafe".

The local grocery store's selection was poor at best; sometimes there was no fresh food or even toilet paper, sugar, or flour. Add to this, the owner opened and closed the store on his whim. The prices were extremely high, and we were extremely poor.

My husband often worked 10 days on and 4 days off, but the schedule was subject to change without notice. Sometimes he would have only one day off in twenty. My husband had to use our only car to get to and from work, and he would often just show up from work with a dinner guest without letting me know ahead of time. Remember, this was pre-cell phone days. (One time I had to serve a guest tough stringy tasteless "roast" and canned corn with water to drink. There was barely enough to go around, and there wasn't anything else in the house. We didn't even have enough money buy a soda pop much less go out to eat. Talk about embarrassing! I can't remember what we did for breakfast the next morning.)

I had to learn a whole new way of thinking, budgeting, and shopping. The pantry was born. And, yes, I made mistakes - like forgetting to take the checkbook (on Sunday when the banks were closed and before ATM's) and/or the grocery list with me when we went shopping.

We lived there for two years. For the next 11 years we lived roughly 150 miles from any town that had more than 15,000 people.

This move took us to rural Idaho. The area we moved to had a relatively (for the northern US) mild climate. However, we would often go hours and hours without electricity and sometimes several days without being able to go anywhere due to road closures. Luckily, almost everyone, including us, had fruit trees, and we planted large gardens. What one person didn't grow, another did. Produce was traded, given, or "gotten". I relearned (Grandma had taught me when I was younger) to can, freeze, and dry fruits and vegetables. I even bought raw milk and made butter and ice cream.

Some of this time was before microwave ovens. (My first microwave oven cost almost $400! It still works.) I didn't own a dryer. We heated the house and our water with a wood burning stove. We cut and chopped our own wood. I had a toddler. Then I had another and home schooled my son. And, several of of those 11 years, I worked full time outside the home being gone for 12 to 14 hours a day sometimes for several weeks at a time. (Wears me out just thinking about it. And, I thank God for my neighbors and my grandparents who were healthy enough and willing to help take care of my son while I worked.) Sorry, I regress.

For almost twenty years now, I have lived in a town with two largish grocery stores and several convenience stores. There is an on-going battle with the shoppers and the store owners, because groceries are incredibly expensive. The store owners used to say that it is because the delivery charges were so high, but all the small towns around us with farther delivery distances were less expensive than the stores in this town. Now, the store owners say the prices are high because of delivery costs and they have lost business to Costco and WalMart. The stores in the outlying towns still charge less on most items than the stores in this town.

So, I keep my pantry. I stock up when there are really good sales. Now that there is a Costco and WalMart (about 80 miles away) I go every few weeks to restock and add to the pantry. (I did have to learn to ignore all the fun stuff.)

***

I really don't know whether it is less expensive grow and preserve your own fruits and vegetables. It can be quite expensive to get started. If you have to consider your time, it probably isn't worth doing your own. If you don't like gardening, then it probably isn't worth it. If you have to pay for water to irrigate it might be cheaper to buy your produce.

What I do know is that I like knowing that what I preserve is fresh and clean when I start. I like that I know what is in the food I preserve. I do know that most home preserved food tastes better than commercially processed food.

***

I still haven't answered P, but I need to stop for today. Hopefully, tomorrow...

Tagged

Amber from Smile Forever "challenged" me to tell 25 random things about myself. Hmmm. I'm going to borrow some of her comments but make them mine. (Thanks, Amber.)

1. I'm short. I have shrunk from 5'2" to about 5'1/2". I really hate it when I'm standing amongst tall(er) people, and they talk over my head like they don't even see me. (This actually happens quite often even when I'm with people I know.) Makes me want to act really childish and stomp on their feet and/or kick their shins.

2. I've never been snowboarding or skiing. I used to love to sled, tube, and toboggan, though.

3. I like the old version of The Music Man with Shirley Jones and Robert Preston so much better than the new Disney version. I like the newer version of Sabrina better than the one with Humphrey Bogart. I love Roman Holiday. I hated the book First Wives Club but loved the movie. Same with the Devil Wears Prada. I love sing-along CD's and movies so Mama Mia! is wonderful. Themes? Musicals and chick flicks.

4. I think it is a sin to pay more than a dollar for a cup of tea or coffee or a soda (pop).

5. I can no longer play the piano in front of people. I get so nervous that I actually shake.

6. I can no longer sing solo and have always had trouble doing it. (I could sing duets, though - ???) My throat just closes up tight. My voice tends to crack now anyway, so who'd want to listen to me? :)

7. I'm terrified of heights. (As beautiful as these places were, I disliked visiting Bryce Canyon and the Grand Canyon for that reason.) I can go up, but going back down is a major problem.

8. I like to drive - except on really slick roads or when other drivers insist on driving on the wrong side of road (local joke that really isn't very funny). My "car" is an old 6 passenger 1 ton Ford pickup. My husband's car is a Subaru Forester. He occasionally lets me drive the Subaru.

9. I hate running or jogging. It has always hurt my ankles, knees, and hips.

10. Even though I hated running, at 2 different schools I broke sprinting records (for boys and girls) - once in 6th grade and once in 7th grade. Even in college PE, for short distances (100 yards or less) I was a speed demon. This probably came about from chasing and catching my extremely pesky brother and his friends. They never did learn not to make a redhead mad. ;)

11. I hated to (and still hate to) participate in team sports like softball, volley ball, basketball, and even tennis. I liked to bowl and swim and ride my bike. I wasn't too shabby on a skate board (the first ones that came out in the 60's), either.

12. I was terrified of water until the summer I was nine. Thanks to a wonderful neighbor lady who took a whole car load of us kids to the Y every day, I learned to love swimming and diving. I made the swim team in high school, but my parents wouldn't allow me to participate except as part of PE. I resented that for years, even though in my head I understood their reasons. (The high dive was a challenge, though!)

13. I can't dance. I just can't quite ever get my feet to listen to the rhythm. :D

14. Close friends call me by first and middle name - running it together, but they always get the middle name wrong. My middle name is Sue not Lou. My mom and one grandma often called me Susie. My other grandma usually called me Kathy (my cousin's name) which really confused the issue.

15. I dislike messing with my hair. I am a wash, comb, and go type person.

16. I have to go with the natural (washed out) look. My skin reacts almost immediately to foundation, blush, powders, lotions, most shampoos and conditioners. Even sun screen is a problem. I can only wear a couple brands of mascara and eyebrow darkener. Most lipsticks crack my lips and/or turns bright red. Perfume blisters my skin (and sometimes bothers my sinuses).

17. My hair is still its natural color with only some white hairs in it.

18. My hair won't hold a curl from a curling iron, but a perm lasts until it is cut off.

19. I look best in cool colors (summer and winter palettes) - just the opposite of most redheads. I can actually wear some shades of red, and if I may say so, bright pink is a really good color for me.

20. I used to chew my finger nails. I still do if I get extremely nervous.

21. I'd rather play in the sand, look for pretty rocks, or wade in the water than fish. I actually have a hard time staying out of the water.

22. I sometimes walk by a mirror and almost scare myself. I think, "Who the heck is that?" My looks have really changed over the years. I don't look like my mother or grandmothers so I can't say, "Why is Mom (or Grandma) looking back at me?".

23. I don't hunt and only occasionally go fishing.

24. I think having a television on when trying to visit with someone is rude.

25. I love exploring - taking off on side roads, following unmarked trails, wandering around old grave yards and old homesteads. I always wonder what is "just around the corner" or "just over the other side of that ridge" or "who were these people and what kind of life did they have".

And the bonus:
26. I have a "disease" common to avid genealogists (and historians). I get so wrapped up in researching that I forget that there is a present modern time.

So now I tag Carmen at The Songster, Laura at One Woman's Thoughts, and Adrienne at Adrienne's Catholic Corner - but only if you want to.

The Toilet Seat Won

Last night I was really trying to be so quiet.

My husband went to sleep early (for him) because he had to get up at 2 a.m. to get to a job by 3 a.m. I wasn't ready to go to sleep so I sat in bed and looked at a wonderful picture book (all kinds of neat storage space ideas) until I had to go to the bathroom that one last time before crawling into bed.

Of course, trying to be quiet, I just pushed the bathroom door closed but didn't latch it. I had just finished, stood up, and barely turned to flush when the kitten charged through the door going full speed. She took a flying leap and hit the broken toilet seat. The seat went flying - ricocheting off the bathtub and landing upside down on the floor. The kitten landed in the toilet.

Have you ever heard a flying toilet seat hit a bathtub? Have you ever heard a toilet seat hit the floor? Have you ever heard a cat when it lands in water unexpectedly? Have you ever heard a woman laughing hysterically? (The door probably banged, and I probably screeched, too.)

Yes, I had to give the kitten, the floor, and myself a bath (and change pj's).

Yes, it woke my husband out of a deep sleep.