the roof, the roof, the roof

...needs replacing! Well, one part of it anyway. We have a rubber membrane over the flat porch area and a roof that is fine over the main section of the house, but an older roof over the "bonus room" addition. Because no, we wouldn't want our junk, boxes, and the fantastic industrial, stained, mislaid carpet ruined. You can see the roof and said carpet in these very unflattering shots of the back of our house.

Mr. Reluctant called for an estimate appointment today. Before we moved in, we had a quote to fix a slightly sagging beam and the shingles replaced for a bit under $1K, I believe it was, and the sellers duly knocked that off the price. Who knows if that was accurate, though. Needless to say, I am less than enthused about spending the money we could be using for an oven hood/venting the kitchen to redo the roof over the part of the house I like the least. That's how it goes, though, right?

what the internets don't teach u about disposals

Just before I left to meet Mr. Reluctant in Utah for my camping trip, my garbage disposal suddenly stopped working. Being alone and mechanically inept, I searched for friends to fix it in the few hours I had before my flight took off. No such luck. I then turned to the internet, a screwdriver, and trepidation. I hit the reset button repeatedly, turned off the breaker, removed particles of broken china and pieces of bok choy, fiddled with the chopper and the shaft, hit the reset button a few more times, switched on and off the breaker again, just in case, and cursed it. Still nothing. So I finished canning my brandied cherries and left. It sat, broken and pregnant with a moldering cherry, for the week.

As I've mentioned before, I have the best neighbor in the world. He's a commercial electrician by trade, a handyman and a (mostly) organic gardener. He came over yesterday and took a look at the disposal. Turns out the internet told me everything I needed to know about the mechanics of the thing, but not the electrical system. A small panel underneath the device revealed that one of the wires had been shaken loose. That was it. He rehooked the wires and we saved a hundred bucks.

fortification fridays - i really like your peaches fruit salad

It's a fruit salad. It's an aphrodisiac. Does summer get any better than this?

I invented this fruit salad after reading a chapter in Iwan Bloch's Sex Life in England (1934) entitled "Curious Sexual Instruments." Bloch was an old-school German sexologist -- indeed, he is credited for being one of the founders of that branch of study -- who wrote comprehensive books on large chunks of sexual life, including a biography of the Marquis de Sade and books on prostitution, erotic literature, and sexual odors. In "Curious Sexual Instruments," we find not only what you would expect, but also a few paragraphs on aphrodisiacs identified by experts. A certain M. Venette, author of De la Generation de l'Homme ou Tableau de l'Amour Conjugal singles out foods such as egg whites, "sweet strong wine," and milk. Another gentleman named Ryan adds to the list fish, turtles, oysters, crabs, lobsters, eggs, artichokes, truffles, mushrooms, celery, cocoa, onions, cinnamon, pepper, apricots, strawberries and peaches. Bloch's third source, the pornographic novel The Amatory Experience of a Surgeon (1881), is perhaps the least credible of the lot, but I believe everyone should try once what it recommends: making your move on the ladies with a cinnamon-covered hand.

Or you could try this fruit salad instead. Enjoy it with some of the other ingredients on the list: begin with raw oysters and chilled artichokes in a truffle mayonnaise, then tuck into a bouillabaisse of fish, shellfish, celery and onions, perhaps.

Whatever you do, save some room for dessert, because this is the best fruit salad I've ever tasted. If they don't like your peaches after this concoction, heaven help you.

I Really Like Your Peaches Fruit Salad

2 ripe peaches, cubed
2 ripe apricots (or dried ones, left to soak in water until plump), cubed
strawberries in some form, either fresh or frozen and chopped, or a scoop of homemade strawberry preserves or syrup
a few shakes of cinnamon
a few grinds of black pepper
2 T. "strong, sweet wine" such as Port, Madeira, or an ice wine
1 pint whipping cream

Mix together all ingredients but the whipping cream. Let macerate for at least 30 minutes. Adjust sweetening by adding a bit more Port, if necessary.

While fruit is macerating, whip cream until very stiff, even lumpy, and add a bit of sugar while whipping. An alternative is to use slightly sweetened ricotta or crème fraiche. Serve in individual bowls with a dollop of whipped cream on top and a drizzle of Port.

vacationing and the remodeler

Why is it I can't seem to escape paint? We just returned from our camping trip. We went to Idaho and made a day stop in Yellowstone. We spent a large part of the day driving, as one is wont to do in Yellowstone, being grumpily caught in several traffic jams caused by people in SUVs gawking at, say, a moose, on the side of the road.

You ain't never seen a bunch of fools until you've seen grown men climbing through underbrush at the side of the road to videotape a moose standing in mud.





Nevertheless, Yellowstone is not Disneyland, and even with the crowds, there is indeed a reason why it was our nation's first national park. Most of the park is inside a caldera of an old volcano, and the ground is unstable, shooting up steam and geysers, pooling boiling-hot water in springs all over the park. One can see waterfalls caused by lava flows and their damage to underlying rock, the earth stripped bare and cut apart into layers, and impossible lakes and plains and flowers in the middle of it all.

But back to remodeling. Nature has some pretty fantastic color combinations. Check 'em out. Blues and oranges, whodathunk it?

fortification fridays - brandied sweet-n-sour cherries

The New York Times published a recipe for brandied cherries last week, but it was based on sweet cherries. I'm after the holy grail, sour or pie cherries, those fragile ruby beauties that last for only a few days off the tree, and only a few weeks in the market. I threw together this recipe just before leaving for my Evel Knievel Tribute Road Trip with Mr. Reluctant. See you in a week or so!

Based on a recipe for something wonderful called Cherry Bounce, which uses vodka and wild cherries that grow in Louisiana instead of brandy and the mix of sweet and sour cherries I used below, my recipe makes as many brandied cherries as you like. Freeze the rest of the sour cherries you've been able to score with a little sugar to use for pies and cherry soup later in the summer.

Brandied Sweet-n-Sour Cherries

Sterilize two or more quart jars. Buy sour cherries and a few dark cherries, for pretty contrast. Wash cherries well and discard blemished cherries. They don't last long, so use them soon after purchase. Remove the stems but don't bother to pit cherries. The pits add a slightly almondy flavor to the liqueur.

Layer cherries with granulated sugar to cover each layer. Cover with a decent-quality brandy. Store in a dark place for a month. Shake every few days in the first couple of weeks to dissolve sugar and aid maceration. Enjoy over ice cream, use to fortify sangria, add to fondue, sip as a cordial or use as maraschino cherries in Manhattans and the like. That's all, folks!

our first tomato

It was sweet and delicious. I shared it with Sparerib. Happy Bastille Day!

fortification fridays - mound o' green beans

This is my favorite method of cooking green beans. It is especially good with summer beans, and it's based on the Chinese dry-fried string bean recipe you see in Szechuan restaurants. The secret is the initial cooking over high heat. The burned spots add character and a smoky taste. You can sex up these beans by adding pieces of ham or bbq pork, cabbage pickles, garlic, or even a little ground chicken or pork, but I like them plain.

Mound o' green beans

Serves: As many as you like
Kitchen needs: One hot burner

1 lb. or more fresh green beans, ends snapped off
1/2 red onion, thinly sliced
1 t. vegetable oil
1 t. sesame oil
1 t. la yu (hot oil)
5-6 szechuan peppercorns, or a bunch of fresh-ground pepper
kosher salt

Heat a large wok over very high heat. Wash and trim green beans. WIthout adding oil, place green beans in hot pan and let them burn a little bit in spots, turning every 2 minutes or so, until they look wilted. Turn down heat to medium, add onion, oil, and pepper. Continue to cook until beans are wrinkly and soft but still dark green, then add salt (more than you think you'll need) at end of cooking. Mound up on a platter and let people eat with fingers.