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RE: Fake Wasabi Alert!
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estebanana
Posts: 9351
Joined: Oct. 16 2009
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 RE: Fake Wasabi Alert! (in reply to estebanana)
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Hot peppers, grease and whiskey. There's a name for an old country song.
When my family went camping or fishing we did the same thing, but the Ex-Texans with the Chris Craft would substitute potatos for beans. I remember smelling potato and onions cooking over a wood fire in the morning in some crockery with a glass lid. And the coffee pot was a percolator style made for open flame, the eggs were cooked in the bacon fat, and the toast was laid out over grill on a far edge so as not to burn.
Those breakfasts were always very good. Meanwhile back home in my house we always had pinto beans on the stove, ham, bay leaf and never salt them until they are done.
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My best friend is teacher who teaches a high school experiential education class. He takes his students on ropes courses to build teamwork, and tree planting trips, etc. I used go on trips before I moved. We took kids to Death Valley, Joshua Tree Nat. Monument, and to the Emigrant Gap Wilderness in the Sierra's -
To provision the group for the ten day stay he hires a mule pack team to bring up the food. It's only fair, they are kids and they need to eat a lot when outdoors. There are about 30 of them each year. They break down in a sub groups and he brings back past graduated students to be team leaders to guide the current students. Ed always slips in the requisite bottle or bottles of The Dalmore, or some other single malt that is in harms way of being purchased.
Once the students are fed and break down into their own camps the adult team leaders and the teachers drink heavily and tell lies. One year a few of us stayed a two extra days after the kids had been packed down the hill so we could fish the high mountain lakes. I caught several nice trout, and kept enough for all of us to get plenty either stick roasted or butter fried. And the bottle passed hands freely and frequently pouring into out coffee mugs. One of my fish was quite large, a 2 pounder maybe, that is a big trout in that area. We got a bit drunk and began calling it 'The Bismarck' after the WWI German ship. I fried the Bismarck in butter after a dusty role in flour, salt and pepper. Fried on an open fire in a black cast iron skillet served with with foil wrapped coal roasted yams and potatoes rubbed in olive oil. Washed down with beers and slugs of scotch. I fell into the fire that that night later,but now harm done, I was quickly rolled out and given more scotch buck me back up.
After some time went by we turned into jolly drunken bears and found tent caves to sleep in.
The next day we hiked out 13 miles in record time, this was a trip in 1995. We were in top shape. On the drive back to the Bay Area we stopped at burger place shortly after we came off the mountain. We jammed down a big shake, a burger fries, totally stuffed. We drove on and reached the sloped edge of alluvial plain that signaled the descent into the flats of the Central Valley. We spotted a Mexican place ahead and without talking we parked marched in and sat down to order a huge plate of enchiladas each., beans, rice and extra corn tortillas. Forty five minutes had passed since we had gorged ourselves
on hamburgers.
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https://www.stephenfaulkguitars.com
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REPORT THIS POST AS INAPPROPRIATE |
Date Feb. 10 2017 1:05:15
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Richard Jernigan
Posts: 3430
Joined: Jan. 20 2004
From: Austin, Texas USA
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RE: Fake Wasabi Alert! (in reply to estebanana)
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Yum, trout. While we lived in Anchorage the Air Force had a camp at Skilak Lake on the Kenai peninsula. In those days the only way to get there was to fly down on a float plane and land on the lake.
There were lake trout and some really big rainbows. When rainbows grow over about 5 pounds their flesh turns pink. Not as dark as some salmon, but still pink.
At the lake we would often grill fish over a wood fire.
Back home Mom would bake one of those big rainbows in garlic butter. Delicious.
About 120 miles up the road (the only one then) from Anchorage there are three small lakes close to the highway. Every summer my older brother and I, a group of his friends, and others including some young airmen, a total of about 20 people would camp at those lakes for a couple of weeks. We spread out into four- or five-person tent groups. The lakes were full of arctic grayling.
Since I was the youngest kid in camp, it fell to me to get up early and catch enough fish for breakfast for four or five of us. At the summer solstice there are about 22 hours of effective daylight there, so I could get up just about any time to go fishing for breakfast. It didn't take long for me to learn that 45 minutes was more than enough time to hike down to the lakeshore, catch a fish or two for each of us, walk back to camp, and clean the fish.
I used a light spinning rig. Just about any fly you put on the water would be struck within two minutes.
At the end of the two week campout our father and a group of men would come up on Friday, get up Saturday morning and fish, and have a big fish fry Saturday night.
Dad was careful to make friends among the 10th Rescue Squadron, who not only rescued downed Air Force pilots, but served as a general public rescue outfit all over the Territory. Col. Berndt Balchen, the colorful founder of the Squadron was still the boss.
The reason you wanted to be pals with the Tenth if you were a fisherman was they had an assortment of float planes of several sizes. You could get to a wide array of great fishing spots if you went along on "training missions."
Dad had a sequence of photos showing the operation they set up on one prolific trout stream in the northern edge of the Alaska Range. A four man rotation kept in constant motion. One was fishing. One was taking the fish he had just hooked to the man who was taking them off the hook and stashing them. The fourth man was making his way back downstream to catch another fish. Dad said they stayed in constant motion, never a pause, switching in another participant when someone reached their limit.
My best buddy Ivan and I had rods that broke down into short sections. In the summer we would leave home after breakfast. By noon we would be at a place where there was no sign any human had been there before. At a stream nearby we would put our rods together, catch a couple of trout, and grill them for lunch.
The summer salmon runs were a bit of a nuisance for us. The salmon would be so thick in some streams you couldn't fish for trout, and a salmon was too much fish for lunch for two people. So we packed sandwiches and ate wild raspberries, currants or cranberries for dessert.
During the king salmon run on Ship Creek, which flows right through downtown Anchorage, we would go on a weekday when the crowd was smaller, and each catch a fish for our family.
At Kwajalein I went diving every weekend with my regular buddies, but in 18 1/2 years there I only went fishing once. Still, I always had fresh local fish to eat when I wanted it, since people gave it away. Ahi, rainbow runner, mahi-mahi, blue marlin, flounder.....even lobster when my Marshallese friends had some, but I always gave them money for it.
RNJ
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REPORT THIS POST AS INAPPROPRIATE |
Date Feb. 10 2017 2:55:19
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