Colorado

This blog has been about food, and the impact it has on our lives. It seemed only appropriate to write about a time in our lives when friends and family gather to support each other, and make their lives a little easier. To bring forth food and drink to celebrate the life of someone who has made an amazing impact on our lives.

In July of last year my father in law, Col. Dean H. Wilson (ret.) was visiting my wife, kids, and I at our home in San Diego. We had a wonderful time, much of it spent unpacking our new home, and preparing for the arrival of our second child Charlotte Hope. Our visit was much like others, a chance to be together, to enjoy. During his and Nancy's travels to Phoenix to visit their son Mike it became apparent that Dean was fighting something.

Dean and Nancy shortly returned to Colorado to find their home, and community in danger from one of the worst forest fires to hit Colorado. Once contained, and back in their home, Dean and Nancy spoke with doctors, and Dean was diagnosed with a very aggressive cancer.

Erin, the girls and I traveled to Colorado at the end of 2012 to celebrate the holidays, and enjoy family. Dean was thin, but looked good, and celebrated the season with food, drink, family, and friends. He, and Nancy met their newest grand daughter, filled the house with the smells, sounds, and visions of the season, and we were all together. Though Dean was sick, and battling his disease he never let us know how uncomfortable he was. Always the first to offer a drink, a laugh, tell a story, or just sit in his chair in front of a massive window with mount Blodgett, and the US Air Force Academy framing him.

It is now mid way through March, and Dean has been in Denver at the University Hospital Oncology floor enduring surgery after surgery, the uncomfortable surroundings, and hoping that something, a doctor, his faith, or a miracle will give him a little more time. Erin, the girls and I arrived two days before he was scheduled to head back to Colorado Springs. He, and Nancy decided that their time at the hospital was over, and a comfy bed, a view of the snow covered academy, and family was the treatment he needed.

Nancy had been back and forth between Colorado Springs, and Denver for more than a month with no idea when they would return. When we arrived home, the house was filled with food; lunch meats, cookies, breads, soups, salads, wine, beer, and other wonderful treats. Food arrived as if out of thin air. Friends had rallied, filled the house with meals from breakfast to dinner, egg soufflé, bagels, lunch meats, soups, beer, wine, and desserts. An unbelievable showing of love, and support. A gesture as simple, as food.

In the two days we have been in Colorado Springs the house has been filled with family and friends, a 3 star general, a lovable chocolate lab, and enough cheer and revelry to raise a ship. A toast, a cheer if you will to honor a great man, and a great life.

As I have mentioned in previous posts, food is more than sustenance. Food is social, it is comfort, it is a gesture of love, an offering if you will. Food is intimate, it is friends, and it is family. Nothing brings people together better then food. Food, and drink fill a house with smells, a warmth, a flavor of life that we all find comfort in.

The food, friends, and family that filled this house in honor of Dean have proven out, they arrive daily with plates, trays, tins, bottles, and kits for making drink that all is wonderful. Each one taking their time to visit Dean in his room as he rests, and continues his battle.

Dean Holbrook Wilson was born and raised in Great Falls Montana. Served his country, educated himself to the highest level, and eventually found his greatest calling as an educator, an administrator, and a mentor of young men and women at the Air Force Academy. His passion for life, and knowledge has taken him across the globe, but nothing quite felt like home in Colorado Springs. The Springs is where he had his greatest accomplishments professionally, as a husband, father, and grandfather.

With the mountains and valley that spreads out from his bedroom window blanketed with snow, and the house filled with the sounds, and smells of family, both immediate, and extended, Dean continues his battle. He battles for one more conversation in the quiet moments at dawn with Nancy, for one more early morning smile from his grandchildren, one more moment to lay eyes on his children, to tell them all he loves them, and to let them know it will be ok.

A man of tremendous faith I know that in the end he will be awarded peace, and comfort. He will know that his family will be taken care of, that he lived a life of honor for country, and family. In that moment I hope he has clarity, can turn to the window, look out over the place he has called home for so many years, the sun shining off the face of Mount Blodgett, hold the hands of the people he loves, and close his eyes for one final rest, a rest so well deserved.

Beer

Beer!

"Beer is one of the world's oldest prepared beverages, possibly dating back to the early Neolithic or 9500 BC, when cereal was first farmed and is recorded in the written history of ancient Egypt and Mesopotamia. Archaeologists speculate that beer was instrumental in the formation of civilizations."

It is said that beer is the third most consumed beverage in the world behind water, and tea. That is a statement like no other unless your name is water or tea I suppose.

Beer comes in many different shapes, and forms. It can be light as 3/2, and as heavy as the German Schorschbräu Schorschbock 57% finis coronat opus, a whopping 57% abv, which means it will pretty much put you to bed.  Now I am a beer lover of all types, and believe there is a mood for many different kinds of beer. strong and dark for those long drinking moments when there is no rush, and light, cool, and crisp for those hot summer days when a steady flow of cold beer is all that will satisfy. All of us remember our first, all of us remember fond moments with friends, family, loved ones, and maybe the first time we met that special someone, and what was in our hand. 

I remember the first. I was in 8th grade, and I was walking to watch a CYL basketball game with Jimmy Green, and Ryan Connor. We grabbed three Busch beers from Jimmy's dads fridge and walked in the snow the ten or so blocks to the church. All in all it was pretty uneventful, and the taste really didn't take to me. I didn't do much drinking after that until I was in my late teens. From there, buying beer at a local package store with no id, we drank Rhino Chasers, Rockford Brews, Brandywine Brewing Company, and of course Mickeys 22's which we got for $.99 a piece down on 4th and market. As college came and went it was quantity, and not quality. As much beer as we could buy for as little money as possible. Ice House, Natural Light, Natural Ice, Milwaukee's Best Light, and Ice, not to mention 2 for $3, 40 ounce Old Milwaukee's. You find when you hit the real world, and finally graduate there is a lot of "holding on to your youth", but you end up graduating to spirits. As mature as we think we get, we always find ourselves looking for an opportunity to enjoy a tall cool Budweiser or something similar. Fishing, surfing, watching the game. Whatever the situation we just need to pull that fridge open and look to see what might appeal. 

As I have matured I have found myself enjoying the movement of micro-brews. Like wine, beer, and its flavor will change depending on where its made, how long it rests prior to consumption, and what materials are used to create it. Living in San Diego we are lucky to have one of the most varied, and flourishing micro-brew markets in the U.S. I like to drink from across the globe, but steadily have found the flavors of San Diego to be my favorite. Ballast Point leads the charge with the Coronado Brewing Company pushing it along as well. Port Brewing throws some pretty good beers, and you can always find a staple at Stone. Although I tend to drink from one or the other, I try to mix it up, and explore the different brews I can find at local stores. 

I believe to be lucky to have experienced the greatest mecca of beer at the Anheuser Busch brewery in St. Louis Missouri. Although it is a less complex beer, there is nothing better than a tall cool Budweiser. I also have seen the effort, and time put into brewing locally, the heart and soul that goes in to a brew, and can respect both sides. 

Respect is key. Like anything you indulge in it is important to respect it. Moderation is the key to the consumption of anything. I would lie if I said I hadn't over indulged, but I do feel that even in those moments I respected the product. I urge all to respect it. It can hurt you. Physically, mentally, and financially. 

I do believe I love beer. Unlike my father who cannot stand beer, and has stuck mostly to Scotch, Rum, and Vodka, I can drink beer. The most lurid swill (as long as it is cold), or the finest most carefully crafted, it is all good, and it is all beer. 

BBQ

Barbecue is something near and dear to my heart. (I know purists will call me on this, but for this commentary I will lump grilling, smoking, and BBQ into one category, and call it Barbecue) It is hard to believe such a thing being born and raised in Wilmington Delaware, now residing in San Diego California, two places not particularly known for their BBQ. Regardless, and I am not exactly sure when it happened, or how, but BBQ it is. Cooking has always been my passion, my therapy, but BBQ is my love, it gets me excited, and drives my creativity.

Rubs, sauces, wood, charcoal, temperature, cuts of meat, and cooking environment all can effect, or manipulate the flavor, texture, and experience of your food.

There are so many variables, aspects, ingredients, stages, and moments that make up cooking BBQ. We select the cut of meat; ribs, brisket. whole bird, sausage (links), shoulder, whole pig, etc. The previous is really only a taste if you will of what you can prepare on a gas, charcoal, smoker, pit, it really is endless. If you can eat it, you can BBQ it. Then we prep it. Prepping can be the creation of a rub, a brine, a marinade, or any variation of the previous. Again, the brilliance behind BBQ is the options are endless. Although we stick to a few fairly standard ingredients we often allow our creativity, and exploration of ingredients to help define our particular flavor. The cooking surface is as important as any other ingredient, and what flavors you expect to bring out of your meat will depend on what you use. Gas is easy, charcoal a little harder, smoking then more, and pit the most difficult. A lot of this has to do with controlling the temperature. Too hot, too cold, not enough smoke, time, you name it, all of it can effect what you have on the menu. The rest is pretty easy, and deals with time. Time will produce a flavor, and texture that will define your meal. Its up to you, and what you have at your disposal. No matter what you are doing, allow your meat time. Whether it is a grill, a BBQ, or a smoke, allow time. Time benefits all aspects of the meal.

Meat wants to, and should retain its flavor, released with that first bite, not before.

What would all the above be without a story to complete it. I mentioned above about location having a big role in all that you do as a cook. I have had the opportunity for the last two years to work a Lacrosse camp in Arden North Carolina (Western North Carolina). This opportunity came to me via two very important people in my history (Paul Krieger, and Chris Chirieleison), both of which were instrumental in the success of me as man beginning early in my high school career. They run the Christ School in Arden www.christschool.org, and along with them, a now close friend, Jeff Miles have provided my the opportunity to experience Western North Carolina lacrosse at the Revolution Lacrosse Camp www.revolutionlaxcamp.com the way it should be. Last year it was Rib Fest http://www.wcpshows.com/ribfest.html providing some of the best ribs across 6 states, and this year it was a fourth of July celebration where I was asked to assume the title, DSO (Director of Swine Operations). It was necessary, when I arrived in Asheville, and after a few beers we discussed the 4th, and what to do. My immediate suggestion, "We should smoke a pig!" With hearty support, and calls made to the local butchers we reduced our expectations from a full pig (given the time constraint) to a pork shoulder, specifically a "Boston Butt" which comes from the upper shoulder of the front leg, and contains a (shoulder) blade bone.

After a trip to the supermarket, and all of the ingredients collected I made my way to what I believe to be a true thing of beauty. My main utensil, my vessel if you will, an Oklahoma Joe's Smoker generously donated to the Christ School by an alumni of truly discerning taste.

The night before, with shoulder collected, brine made, rub combined, and BBQ sauce simmering everything was in order. The following morning charcoal, and oak were added to the box, lit, and time. An hour later the meat rubbed, and placed neatly in the middle of the smoking rack the game was on. twelve hours later, and a few minor adjustments due to heat, and smoke, and we were fed.

I have smoked pig parts before. I have felt that my efforts were better, but smoking a pig shoulder in North Carolina in the all consuming heat of the dead of summer has no equal. I will BBQ again, and I will get better each time I take to the grill, but I will always reflect fondly on my first shoulder prepared in the heart of the south, the heart of BBQ country. Lucky me.

Tap Room

Being summer I found it appropriate to comment on a long standing tradition we east coast types wear like a badge of honor, a beacon that pulsates only for those of us lucky enough to have grown up in and around the mid-Atlantic region of our great country. Although this time of year the oppressive heat, and blanket of moisture known as humidity consumes the region like an evil demon that taunts you with the occasional respite of a thunderstorm, if you can come to grips with the reality of the physical surroundings you can relish in a few sweet delicacies the area produces.

Last summer my wife Erin, daughter Penelope and I made the long trek east (you see there are a few of us lucky ones that realized the effective reality of our condition, and made our way off the eastern seaboard to more temperate climates. We Pollards of the 2nd generation Wilmington Pollards headed west to San Diego where it is sunny, and 70 year round. Not a bad adjustment.). Even as rough as the weather can be, there is no place like home. A place that smells, feels, and looks like all the memories of growing up.

Being this our first visit home during the summer months, and with a few days between engagements we headed south to Northeastern Maryland, home of quiet villages, small marinas, and estuary living. Just past the C&D Canal bridge, and a little further south is Chesapeake City which sits along the C&D Canal an east west body of water that empties into the Delaware Bay.

We arrived mid day, and the still, thick air welcomed us penetrating our skin pushing the sweat from the core of our bodies to the surface like a volcano erupting as we changed from the cool crisp conditioned air of the car to the thick humid air of North Eastern Maryland. Our immediate thought was a cool drink by the water, take in some of the sites, and get our stomachs primed for our true focus, Maryland Blue Crabs. Although like most things in this world nothing is like what it used to be. The Maryland Blue Crab, like most of the the great things in this world have been consumed to excess, and days of true jumbos, or "No. 1 Jimmies" as they are referred to are long gone. That being said, one can still find themselves elbows deep in a table full of the delicious crustaceans as long as you are willing to do a little more work for the reward of their sweet bounty. As we made our way to the marina, and sat on the waterfront drinking tall cool Budweiser the sound of a pin dropping on the floor could be heard. The wind didn't move, the water didn't rap against the pylons, and the birds sought refuge in whatever shade they could find. The occasional boat engine roared, and the echo of reggae music traveled up and down the canal, but for that and airy silence that enveloped the small waterfront town. With flushed cheeks, and a few beers in our belly's to help lubricate the impending feast we made our way to the Tap Room www.taproomcrabhouse.com, a Chesapeake City establishment since 1981, and one of the finest purveyors of Blue Crab in the area. With three dozen crabs down, and a few more cold beers, the refuge of the air-conditioned space, friendly faces, and local chatter were all we needed and satisfaction was ours.

It is not everyday that we are reminded of days gone by, but given the opportunity to live in the moment, and consume all it has to offer provides each sense with exactly what it requires as an exercise of our mind, body, and soul.

A start

As we took off from San Diego airport and began to pass the time a friend of mine leaned over, and commented as to the number of food photos I have on my phone. As we discussed it more I realized that i have a tendency to catalogue the places I go, specifically the food I eat, and the way the places it is served shapes its flavors, and desirability.

I believe in a few things, one of them the impact that food has on people, and the community it represents. I have found passion in food. Making it, eating it, exploring the history of it, and why it is unique based on the region, people, even the family it represents. All of us should be able to recall a time, and place in our history where food has made an impression on us, good or bad. Recall a time when you walked into a place and immediately were transported to a time and place in your past that represented a fond memory of family, friends due to the smell, or taste of food.

Food is wonderful. It's social, its intimate, it's a peacemaker, it's friends, it's family.