the continuing saga of trevor chang

A sad chapter in the life of Trevor Chang, our resident raccoon. As I do most mornings, I was working on an article in my study yesterday, and I happened to see Trevor standing in the middle of the back yard. Since raccoons generally do not hang out in the middle of my back yard, and it had been a month or so since I had seen Trevor, I went outside to take a closer look.

He wasn't afraid of me, and lumbered away, slowly. Not a good sign. He was also not afraid of the neighbor's golden lab, who bounded over in its dorky, happy lab way and started barking and jumping around when he saw the raccoon. REALLY bad sign. I decided it would be better to watch from my study window and went inside.

Trevor laboriously climbed up the elm tree. About two-thirds of his tail was missing, and he was obviously dazed and in pain. It was difficult for him to climb. I considered that he might not indeed be Trevor Chang, our resident raccoon, because he didn't know about the low perch in the tree, and he didn't know that a dog lived next door. In any case, he was wounded, and slept for a couple of hours in the tree. Around lunch time, I noticed him painfully sliding down the tree and making his way out of the yard (I hoped). I was wrong. He found the one tiny hole that I didn't block off around the bottom of the shed and squeezed himself under the shed.

Since I didn't want a raccoon dying under my shed, which is graded poorly and I'd have to dig it out, I opened up everything I could under the shed so he could easily get out, and I provided him a way to leave the yard. We tried to stomp around in the shed and turn on the lawn mower and even squirt a stream of water under the shed. After a few hours, I checked under the shed and he was still there, either sleeping or dead.

The neighbor said it was futile, and that the raccoon had parvovirus, which makes the animal chew on its tail and paralyzes its hind legs. He offered to help remove the carcass (did I mention what a great neighbor he is?). He also confirmed our earlier suspicion that the previous owners had a whole frickin' family of raccoons living under our house (it was too difficult to block off the vent spaces, apparently, so they left them open).

The whole thing seriously bummed me out. I shouldn't be depressed about one less varmint in our yard, but I was. And I was mad at fate for sending the sick animal into my yard. And I was mad at myself for not being more careful about closing off the access points under the shed.

I called a friend, who said I should let it rot and put up with the smell for a while. It's not a big deal, he said, just tell visitors that you recently returned from a trip and it's your carrion baggage.

I love my friends.

This morning, with a heavy heart, I went to go look under the shed again. Miraculously, the raccoon was gone. Mr. Reluctant told me he heard some scratching at the side of the house in the middle of the night, so I ran around and checked all the vent wells. The screens were intact, but there was sign of a B&E attempt, minor damage to the wood siding. But Trevor Chang did not reign supreme. i blocked off the shed and the yard access points, and paradoxically, felt much better that he survived.

He'll be back.

fortification fridays - what-am-i chopped liver

We celebrate Passover and Easter. Since Passover is my favorite holiday (wine, symbolic food plate, literary interpretation, celebration of freedom from exile), and Easter is my least favorite (pastel colors, egg dishes, ridiculous bunny, odd theology), it's no surprise that I enjoy Passover more.

This year for Passover I'm making beans. We're going to a kid-friendly, vegan, kosher Passover. Quite frankly, I shudder at the thought, but I'm playing along. Passover, to me, is all about the brisket and matzoh ball soup: the meat, dammit, the meat. But since the hosts this year are vegans, it will be about beans. Beans, believe it or not, are a contentious food at Passover. Ashkenazi (Jews from Eastern Europe and thereabouts) don't eat them for Passover, but Sephardi (Jews from places like Spain and the Middle East) deem them acceptable. Since vegans subsist on tofu and legumes, the vegan Passover will be Sephardic. Hence, my beans. I'd give you a nice recipe for Lebanese green beans with tomato sauce, but it's too easy. I'd rather give you a more traditional dish, if you are in the Passover business, or you just want to fool your friends.

Chopped liver!

Well, sort of. I brag about my meat eating, but I balk at organs. I invented this recipe last year, a liver-less version of chopped liver, for my husband who doesn't like liver but likes the idea of saying "what am I, chopped liver?" It isn't vegetarian by any stretch of the imagination, using chicken and stock, but it makes a grey mush that looks just like the real thing. Doesn't taste bad, either. It tastes like chicken. You can use it as a paté-like spread for any spring holiday you celebrate. And it will clog your arteries 53% less. I made it using already boiled chicken thighs from my soup stock, but you could bake thighs and save some for the spread.

I really hope the above photo of real chopped liver looks appetizing to someone. My fake stuff is a bit lighter and less grainy.

What-Am-I Chopped Liver

Vegetarian faux chopped liver usually contains lentils or mushrooms or both; this recipe springboards off those, but it is much easier to make because it salvages stuff from your already-cooked pot of chicken soup. The stuff still looks like gray mush and smells slightly off, just like the real thing. Hey, be glad you don't have to eat liver. All measurements are approximate.

Serves: whoever wants to eat it
Kitchen needs: working stove burner for chicken soup, plus food processor or blender

3/4 cup shredded chicken from the chicken soup you made last night. Flavorless is ok.
a small chunk of carrot salvaged from the same pot
4-5 small brown mushrooms, chopped (the ones that look like mini-portobellos, or heck, just use part of a portobello)
1/2 med. onion, chopped
a small handful toasted walnuts that you saved from the haroset
one hardboiled egg, if you must (optional)
chopped fresh parsley and carrot, for garnish
dark soy sauce
paprika
salt and pepper

Saute onions in oil until golden. Add chopped mushrooms and saute on relatively high heat to get out liquid. When pan starts to get too hot, add a few spoonfuls off the top of your chicken soup (i.e., skim the fat and use that, plus some broth). When nice and cooked and aromatic, take pan off the heat, then add some dark soy sauce and/or salt, freshly ground black pepper, paprika and the walnuts, egg if you are disgusting, chicken and cooked carrot.

Put the whole thing in a food processor and blend, blend to your heart's content. Again, it is supposed to be a spreadable mush. Garnish with chopped carrot and parsley; serve with matzoh. Enjoy, if you can.

P.S. If you are interested in vegetarian chopped liver, avoid the revolting recipes using canned peas, and try this one using mushrooms or this recipe using, what! beans!.

Photo courtesy of someone's flickr set.

a math bitch

Her: Hey, I need a math bitch.
Him [sighing]: What for?
Her: To do the pi-r-squared thing on the tree mulch to figure out how many bricks I need to go around it.
Him: I see why you need a math bitch.
Her: Er, I mean the 2-pi-r thing.
Him: If you know how to do it, you don't need a math bitch. I'll check your work.
Her: Nooooo...
Him: I'll give you a grade.
Her: Noooooo!

before and after shots

Since we're still very much in the "before" stage, having only a few months here to discover the big problems, I thought I'd bring you a before and after of a different ilk. I call it "remodeling: before and after glamour shots":

mellow yellow

We're going to paint the horribly dull beige exterior of Raccoon Tree Acres buttery yellow, with unsalted butter trim. OK, those aren't the real color names (which are Jonquil and Morning Sun), but that's what I'm thinking. We've been very happy with the Sherman Williams line (with which we get a substantial discount thanks to a friend), so I tried to match the color to the warmest, friendliest house we found. I called the professional painters who did the house pictured with a white picket fence, and they were kind enough to give me the name of their paint (a custom blend with IGI), but unless a larger swath of the yellow I have tested in the first picture turns out too yellow, I'm going to go with SW.

Just for reference, the last picture is the ugly current color, in the ugliest part of my house next to the driveway, under the now chopped off branches of the ugliest birch tree in the world. With the birch, whose fall foliage is yellow, we also have a Douglas maple with dark yellow fall foliage and the Siberian elm, with yellow fall foliage, too. I think it will look spectacular in the autumn, a rich little yellow cottage glowing in the sun. It will also look nice in the spring, with the masses of yellow and white daffodils, and the red camellias and salmon quince flowers. And in the summer, if you put our house under your chin, it will tell you if you are in love.

Now who wants to come over and paint?

fortification fridays - korean bbq lettuce wraps

If you've never had Korean barbecue, you should feel cheated. I desperately miss the grill we used to frequent in Oakland, California, a big restaurant with high powered fans over each table and waitresses who would hurry to the tables with pans full of real, honest-to-goodness wood charcoal, weaving through the aisles and dodging customers in what surely must violate all kinds of codes. Folks would grill pieces of marinated, succulent, thin-sliced sirloin, then wrap it in lettuce leaves with a dab of miso, a jalapeno or garlic slice for the brave, and sesame-scallion salad. In Korean, it's called bulgogi. In America, it's called dee-licious.

All is not lost, though. If you have relocated from the Bay Area, you're tired of the slow cooker, or you just plain want some barbecue meat in the middle of winter, I have the perfect recipe for you.

Korean BBQ Lettuce Wraps

Serves: 2 with no abandon, or 4 more reserved people, with rice and a side dish or soup.
Kitchen Needs: working broiler or BBQ grill

A.
2 lbs. thinly sliced sirloin, rib steak, or flank steak (an Asian supermarket will stock this, or slice your own)
3-4 scallions, chopped
1 T. chopped garlic
5 T. soy sauce (I use imported Kikkoman, also worth a trip the Asian market to buy)
2 T. sesame oil
1/8 cup sugar (original recipe is 1/4 cup, but I think that's too much)
2 T. sake or Chinese cooking wine

Combine all ingredients in A. to marinate meat for 2-12 hours. To cook steak, either grill on high heat (sugars will carmelize and it will cook very quickly), or place in one layer in a roasting pan with marinade and broil on high for 5-10 minutes (again, keep an eye on it, as it will burn easily). When meat is browned and tasty-looking, remove to cutting board, chop into bite-sized pieces, and place on serving platter.

Serve with rice, a side dish such as a vegetable stirfry or a soup, a variety of kimchi if you have access to such things, and the following:

B.
a head of romaine lettuce, washed and drained well and leaves separated
3-4 green onions, sliced LENGTHWISE several times with tip of knife to create thin ribbons, then cut at 2-3 inch lengths
2 t. sesame oil
1 t. soy sauce
1 t. sesame seeds (I use the black sesame seeds with salt available in Japanese markets, but white ones are fine)

For the wraps, chop the bottom ribs off the biggest leaves of romaine, and set aside tops of leaves in pretty pile to serve. Chop the ribs finely. Place in a bowl, then add scallion ribbons and the inner leaves of the romaine, chopped. Mix sesame oil, soy sauce, and sesame seeds in small bowl for dressing. Toss salad with dressing at the last minute. DO NOT ADD DRESSING UNTIL IMMEDIATELY PRIOR TO SERVING, since it will make the lettuce limp rather quickly.

To assemble wraps, place a few pieces of meat and some of the dressed salad on a lettuce leaf. For a more authentic version, add a dab of miso or Korean bean paste, which is darker and more rustic than the standard Japanese white miso but tastes similar, a slice of raw garlic, and/or a slice of jalapeno. Koreans don't generally add kimchi to their wraps, but I've seen some Americans doing that and they seemed happy, so go for it if that appeals to you.

berries and pavers and 'chokes, oh my!

I've been busy laying out the raised bed area in the garden, and doing other gardeny projects. On a whim, I bought six raspberry canes and decided to make the southeast corner of my garden a berrea (=berry area). A friend is going to give me some blueberry bushes, and I already have one blueberry stump that may or may not survive. There is one Himalayan blackberry in the neighbor's alley behind this part of my garden, which I have already taken steps to kill. For those of you who are horrified by the thought of wilfully killing blackberries, as I was before I moved to the Pacific Northwest, Himalayan blackberries are one of our most annoying weeds. They grow everywhere, and once they get started, it's really hard to eradicate them. Sure, it's wonderful to eat wild blackberries whenever you take a walk in a park, canoe down a stream, stop by the side of the highway to dump a body, etc., but you don't want these puppies in your yard. It is MIRACULOUS that my poorly tended yard, neglected for a dozen years, doesn't have blackberries, and I intend to keep it that way. So my berrea will be filled with blue and red berries, not purple. I also saw a cranberry bush at Home Depot -- I always thought cranberries, like blueberries in Michigan where I grew up -- were planted in bogs. Not so, apparently. I might just splurge and get one to see what happens.

I've also been busy working on small drainage problems by laying little pavers and rocks in muddy and unattractive areas. Mr. Reluctant and I are having some differences in opinion about this. I want stepping stones surrounded by rocks (see picture); he wants a more mathematically sound path of pavers snuggly fitted together with cement poured between the cracks (see attempt to do so in picture). This aesthetic difference, my friends, is the major issue in our marriage. Me=freeflowing natural crumbling pretty, him=build like a brick shithouse and just as ugly. What can ya do?

I also picked up some artichokes at a place I usually wouldn't recommend (for plants or anything else): Walmart. I went in looking for a cheap dark green plastic lawn table, which suddenly has become a rare commodity because all the plastic lawn furniture is suddenly beige and sage green, and I found a rather lovely bumper crop of green globe artichokes there. They are more mature than what's on sale elsewhere, and cheap, too, so I bought a couple (see first picture). Like the raspberries, they take two years to properly fruit, so we'll have some yumminess in 2008.