Aces

Day two saw us waking up to a beautiful morning in the Sierras, packing up and going to the lobby for the ubiquitous continental breakfast. After one half a sip of coffee that tasted five days old and reheated at least eight times we passed and headed a few doors down to Schat's famous bakery.

Walking into Schat's one is overwhelmed with the quantity of baked products available, all of it delicious and all of it accessible.  We immediately grabbed two loaves of chili-cheese bread for our hosts later in the day and got in line for breakfast pastries and coffee (apple fritter and cinnamon roll--yes they were and yes if you are in Bishop you must).

The drive north on US 395 is a winding drive up through the valleys and canyons, north of Mammoth and June it follows the West Walker River.  Once the road follows the bends and twists of the Walker the roadside is littered with SUV's and pickups as the fishing folk just pull over and climb down to the river to entice the rainbow and brown trout to bite their fly. (Seen on a bumper sticker "Why do men fish? So they can play with their fly all day.)

Like many roads in America one's speed is often dictated by the number of motor-homes and trailers being hauled by huge pick up trucks and how long before you can pass them and get back above 40 MPH (30 in the mountains).  Having a leisurely two hundred mile day to cover we enjoyed the scenery and mosied along towards destination Reno.

Reno is an interesting city.  Expanding through the valley and having merged with Sparks, Reno has several casinos whose hotel towers spring up across the valley and also has many new businesses relocating from neighboring California (more on that later).  Around 1:00 we pulled up to our friends Shelle and Mike's home.  Immediately Mike indicated he and I were meeting friends to go target shooting and the ladies were heading off to run errands and evidently go wine tasting.

Reno is in Nevada and Nevada is decidedly not California when it comes to gun laws.  Driving northeast out of Reno about half an hour Mike pulls off the highway and into a barren area right next to the interstate.  The area has several groups of trucks with its occupants firing pistols and rifles at target set up on berms.  We pulled up to one of the groups where Mike's good friend Tim who was also a classmate of Leslie's at Cal State Fullerton, was set up with his family, including a sergeant with a Southern Californian police force.

Mike had loaded a .45 pistol and a HK-91 rifle, which I have no idea about but was told it shoot 308 bullets, which I was to find out are very powerful and very loud. Our group of about nine shooters took turns firing at targets with various guns and have a great time.  If one is to consider an insurgency in America my strong suggestion would be to avoid Nevada and the Caltagirone and Wilkinson families.

Here is a look at your intrepid writer firing a .45 caliber handgun for the first time.

You can believe I had earplugs in.  This picture gives you and idea of the backdrop for our bullets and you can see the targets arrayed on the berm.  Here is Mike with the big rifle that is quite powerful.

After shooting we met our wives at a local wine shop for a glass of wine and then headed up the hill to Lynn and Tim's home for a barbecue. Set on the top of hill at about 5700 feet in altitude we were treated to a beautiful night as we looked over the valley and slowly the lights of Reno and its casinos lit up below us.  One of the best views of the night however was Tim's grill as he masterfully worked his fire and meat to perfection.

A lot of people come to Reno looking to be dealt Aces for a winning hand.  We were dealt a winning hand just by being with our friends the Caltagirone's and Wilkinson's.  Day two was definitely Aces.

Day three will be without a set final destination, we will continue up US395 into Oregon, perhaps as far a Pendleton which is just below the border with Washington and according to Google Maps 589 miles away. So far we have traveled just under 400 miles from the front door in Long Beach. 

What A Difference A Dog Makes

Not too long after we brought Harrison, who was five months old at the time, home in mid-February Leslie said, "Having a puppy is like having a toddler in the house....except you can't put him in a bouncy chair or spinner toy to keep him occupied and out of your stuff." In the ensuing five months we have gone through one remote control, several writing instruments, a couple of plants, some malibu light cords, a few hairbands, and at least one school project (thankfully after it had been turned in so he ate the homework after it was back home). Having spent the previous thirteen and a half years with Cooper, we became used to not having to watch what he ate; well in terms of toys, rugs, electronic devices, books, etc.

With Cooper we most definitely had to watch what he ate when it came to food--he would eat whatever he could when he could. A bag of cookies, a container of sushi from Trader Joes, several hot dogs, half a pizza, a yogurt container. If it had people food it was targeted by Cooper. The older he got the more bold he became, sort of challenging us with a "what are you going to do put me down over a half a chicken?" attitude. Cooper could hear the sound of a potato chip bag from the other side of the house with the gardner's leafblower on full and a C-17 taking off over the house. If it sounded like, smelled like, looked like food Cooper was there and waiting for a piece of the pie--literally. For a long time after he died right after Thanksgiving we could feel him trotting into the kitchen when we went for a couple of cookies to munch on while watching "Survivor" or filling some bowls with Pirate Booty for the kids' snack.

With Harrison we vowed it would be different. No going upstairs, lasted until April. No sleeping on our bed, lasted until June--now working on reverse training him back to his blanket next to the bed. No people food, doing great on this one as we have not fed him scraps or tastes for treats of any of our food. We can open a bag of Fritos and spill have of them on the floor while he is laying two feet away and he won't move. We can have a rasher of bacon sizzling on the stovetop for a big Saturday brunch and he will sit in the corner chewing on his rope toy. A kid as tall as he is can walk by with a chocolate chip cookie within inches of his nose and he will be looking for his Buster stuffed animal to play with. Somewhere Cooper is mortified.

This Sunday we had a little barbecue, well little for me (two tri-tips and two whole chickens with all the sides for a half dozen adults and kids). While the kids ate inside the adults were feasting at our patio table. We have a large outdoor bar with a built in barbecue, sink etc that is of standard bar height. The bar is laden with platters of meat, beans, tortillas, homemade salsas, oh and someone snuck a salad on there, and plenty of it waiting for people to grab seconds and possibly thirds.

While were eating one of our guests said, "Harrison just jumped up and grabbed a piece of chicken." Being younger and more spry than I, Leslie jumped out of her chair and went to stop Harrison from devouring the juicy breast laying on the ground. With calls of "Leave It!" and "Drop!" Harrison just looked at her as she approached.



Now had Cooper ever been able to reach a big juicy piece of chicken the last thing he would have done would be to stay in that one spot, the second to last thing he would do would be to "Drop!" or "Leave It!". He would have had his food to go, eating as he found a place to try to hide so he could devour the meal.

Harrison is no Cooper when it comes to food.

When Leslie turned around after picking up the piece of chicken we could see it was in one piece. Leslie was laughing as she said, "He was licking it! He was just standing there licking the skin like he didn't know what to do!"

Somewhere Cooper is mortified.

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Chili Lime Marinade Made Easy

I love to barbecue (or grill, I use the terms synonymously knowing that barbecue is a type of food in some regions and how it is prepared in others--if you have an issue then you have issues). I love to experiment. I love to experiment with food and flavor combinations for my barbecue. This weekend I hit a homerun on a new technique that many may already know, but it was new to my un-culinary-educated experience.

Some of my favorite marinades and basting liquids contain lime juice--fresh lime juice from the limes on our tree in the front yard (a "Mexican" or "Key-Lime" tree). The limes are just smaller than a golf ball with incredible flavor. Squeeze one on a piece of tri-tip or a butterflied chicken and bliss is found.

Grilled chili peppers is also one of my favorites from the outdoor cooker, I love the flavor and the spice they bring to a tortilla filled with any grilled meat. With kids the flavor and the spice can sometimes be too intense so I have had to cut back on how many, and what type, of chilies I like to use. Until Saturday.

I was listening to a radio program and the on-air expert (not Melinda Lee who I very much enjoy) was explaining how the heat in chili peppers is cut by acid and if you soak them in acid they will retain their flavors and loose much of their heat. Perfect! I like acids: citrus juices, alcohol, vinegar (in smaller doses than Leslie) and was excited to try a new technique.

Saturday afternoon to prep for my Super Bowl chili I cut the stems off and just scraped out as much of the seeds as I could in jalapeno, Anaheim and banana peppers. Then I put them in a Ziploc with the juice of two of our small Mexican limes. Making sure the juice got inside the peppers I put the bag in the cold-box overnight.

Sunday morning when I opened the bag to retrieve the peppers for roasting I was hit with the wonderful aroma of chilies and lime--it smelled fantastic. Not one to waste something that smells that good I quickly rubbed my pork loin chops with salt, pepper and house rub, placed in a bag, poured in the chili-lime juice and vacuum sealed the contents. Into the cold-box until after church to marinade.

I grilled the pork over the mesquite and without basting the flavor of the chili-lime marinade was terrific. There was little heat, but not too much, and to be able to enjoy the flavor of the chilies without worrying about the heat was a plus.

The pork, the roasted peppers and the left over chili-lime all went into the chili pot for what may have been the best SB Chili I have made in the almost 25 years I have been making it.

Try it, bag of chilies and lime juice then use to marinate chicken, pork, tri-tip, fish--you'll love it!