eating bugs

Elsewhere I have mentioned eating strange things in Australia. Witchetty grubs (offered but declined) and ant bums are probably the strangest. We were also treated to various cuts of kangaroo and a fish called a Barramundi (by the way, a fine eating fish but a strange name). So when some friends told us we were going to get and cook some bugs I thought “I have had it with Aussies. Bugs my butt. I don’t need no stinking bugs for supper “and more graphic utterances. Can a thought be an utterance, or is it perhaps a thoughterance? Anyway, they kept us in the dark as to the nature of the creatures for the best part of a week. There was talk of “Moreton Bay Bugs” and "Balmain Bugs” and generic bugs. I assured the hosts that I didn’t eat the damn grubs and I wasn’t going to eat any kind of bug. Period.
Of course in the end I tucked in like a starving convict and highly recommend the bugs. They turned out to be a kind of crustacean related to the spiny lobster, only with short flat antennae instead of long ones. A real treat after all. God, but Aussies are a perverse lot, aren’t they? But here is a perversity that can easily transfer to the panhandle, because we have our own “bugs” here, called “bulldozer lobsters”. Tell your next dinner party friends that the appetizer will be an Australian treat made from bugs. Ha! And, if they cancel, all the more for you.

Image: http://australianmuseum.net.au/Uploads/Images/3469/Balmain-Bug_medium.jpg

Interesting Food: The Eel.

For as long as I could hold a pole, I fished. Night fishing in the Long Island Sound yielded blowfish, porgies an occasional small shark and lots of eels. Not a nice fish to catch. They wind up in the line with their slimy bodies and are hard to untangle. And, the slime has a nasty smell. My father loved them so we kept them for him. I refused to come close to the kitchen when he cooked and ate them. No slimy eel was going to pass my lips.
Then came that fateful day in Taiwan. Sal and I were honored guests at a sea food banquet (casual dress as you can see). One of the dishes (the dish names were printed in English for us) was called “net-catching dyctiophora”. We were assured it was a delicacy, very expensive, so we tried it. Good sauce. Another dish was simply called “eels”. You know the dilemma: don’t eat the eels and insult the hosts. Eat them and puke. We ate them. We didn’t puke. Good sauce saved the day. As the photos show, we had to eat with gusto. We did. Good sauce. If you ever are forced to eat an eel, insist on good sauce and like the advice my father gave me for oysters, don’t chew, just swallow.

Image: Photo of Sally and Woody eating small eels.

Love

I was on the road back home from dropping my son off where he lives and listening to one of my favorite albums. I have listened to this album 100’s of times, and today, again, there were tears. These songs about Australians mostly, go deep. Wives, husbands, mothers, fathers, bushies, daughters, lovers and ghosts. They are all there waiting to be heard again. And what they say is this: don’t be afraid to love someone with all your heart and soul. And if you lose them, love them still. Love is what life is all about, loving and living.

The album called "From the Heart" is by Di Hammond. Sal and I got to know her and Rob when they were in Tallahassee for awhile many years ago. Late night dinners and fires and singing and listening. And these songs. On the eve of Valentine's Day what could be more fitting than this album and the songs of love within. Thanks Di and Rob for a never ending well of hope and love. You guys are never far from our thoughts.
Image: Cover art for album :From the Heart

Archie's Third Lover

Archie actually had a third lady in his life. Her name was Monica. She was never without Archie's picture. As far as anyone knows, Archie never knew about this other love, but those of us who know Monica will never forget it.

Monica died quietly this morning after being sick for a long time. She was special in many ways. You couldn't miss it. Determined look and Archie under her arm. She lived in a place with my son and many other special people. This is an exclusive establishment in so far as only very special people can live there. Monica and the others usually led quiet lives, doing the best with what they had, and just being themselves. She didn't have much to say, but many of her friends were quiet as well. They mostly got along but there were some conflicts from time to time. On reflection, this description sounds pretty much like any group of special people that find them selves together. Like students in a dorm, or teams. I guess Monica and her friends were not as different as you might imagine. But she sure was special. Then, she got sick again and the Doctors were not optimistic. She died quietly this morning and we will miss her. And somewhere deep inside, I know that Archie will miss her too.

Image: www.weddingbells.ca/blogs/tag/wedding/

Don't Hold Your Breath, or, Cut the Crap

This “earmark” crap has gotten out of hand. Really? Now? For details go to the link from NPR but here’s the short version: one Senator (I hate to capitalize this, looks too respectful) has put a hold on 70 Obama nominations to force the White House and the Senate to pass 2 of his earmarks (read PORK) projects for his beloved state of Alabama. So this one jackass, Shelby, stops government appointments cold. Not for any good issue-related reason. Don’t you ever get tired of this crap? Why do we keep electing these self-serving got-to-get-reelected politicians? I think the answer is that the vast majority of Americans don’t know what goes on and don’t care. Here is a warning: The time to care was long ago and the time to care is now. The country is headed down a dangerous and possibly irreversible path to disaster. I also think that the small number of Americans that are paying attention are completely out shouted and out gunned by the entrenched elite. In addition to a spoiled biosphere we pass a spoiled political system on to our children. And expect them to thank us. Don’t hold your breath.
Immage: http://www.hammondjazz.net/img/random/adw_cut_the_crap.jpg
Link: http://www.npr.org/watchingwashington/2010/02/why_all_americans_should_thank.html?sc=nl&cc=ph-20100208

On Extinction: Good or Bad?

Earlier I read a blog posting on Change.org about torture and rattlesnakes. More on the roundup issue. A response just now got my attention: (roughly quoted) "wouldn't letting a species go extinct be better than letting it get tortured over and over"? The answer is an unequivocal NO. Extinction is never a blessing. It results in the loss of biodiversity and the rearranging of entire ecosystems. We should do all we can to conserve all that is left of "nature" as we currently experience it Feelings like this from people that are not yet savvy about extinction are understandable in light of the terrible things some humans do to other living creatures, but the better alternative is to stop the abuse, not let the species go extinct. The possible exception would be the abusers themselves. I have no problem seeing them go extinct. To do that we need better laws and better enforcement of the laws we have. As competition for scarce dollars increases, the weak and helpless are more likely to lose. And if the weak and helpless are also reviled, feared and totally misunderstood, what chance do they have?

Image: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dodo

The World Shifted

My first gun! Red Ryder special. The goal: go forth and kill something. I was 9 or 10 and out for blood. The most common living things in our woods were Cat Birds. Now, Cat Birds are related to the Mockingbird and have similar song patterns. They sing their little hearts out. But sometimes they make a whining cat-meowing annoying sound. My rule: Leave them alone when singing, shoot them when mewing. So over the course of a few days 4 or 5 fell to the mighty hunter. Then, a small woodpecker caught my attention: stalk, aim, shoot, HIT. I walked over to pick up the bird but it wasn’t dead. In my hand, it looked at me with that one-eyed look birds give you and the bottom fell out. I felt sick, sorry and terribly wrong. The woodpecker said (not in words, but emotion) “What have you done? Do you have any idea what you have done?” in my brain, and then died. I can’t really explain it, but except for one other series of shameful behavior (I may confess this later), I never killed another bird for “fun”. Woodpecker spoke loud and clear. And I heard loud and clear.

image: http://flickr.com/photos/99998929@N00/2037775547/

Truth? Why not sue me?

I just had a conversation with someone that related the story of someone getting sued for telling the truth, and without even mentioning the individual that did the suing. No details please. I don’t want to get sued either. But here’s the thing: I thought that to be sued you had to either do something wrong or at least appear to have done something wrong. Apparently not so. All you have to be is alive, and in somebody’s sights. Probably you will win the suit if your facts are correct, and maybe you will get your costs paid by whoever sued you if the judge thinks the suit was frivolous. But come on for Pete’s sake. If I have an opinion about, say, onions, and I think they might hurt you if you eat too many, can some Texas onion farmer sue me? Can he or she claim I am hurting the sale of onions from Texas? You would think that since the Supreme Court claims mega corporations are persons as far as the First Amendment is concerned that I would be protected too. Am I? I guess the way to find out is to push the envelope and wait for the suits to flow. Anybody out there want to start a “Woody Search Defense Fund”? Who knows, I may already have pissed off a whole species of goose by claiming they stink when you cook them. And, they aren’t the only thing that stinks.

Image:http://www.yale.edu/terc/democracy/may1text/images/McCarthyandCohen.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.yale.edu/terc/democracy/may1text/may1text.html&usg=__smxDlp2zOpmkwBeV705mx_cCJB0=&h=750&w=993&sz=90&hl=en&start=6&um=1&itbs=1&tbnid=ik2e5Uzp9I2tzM:&tbnh=113&tbnw=149&prev=/images%3Fq%3Djoe%2Bmccarthy%26hl%3Den%26sa%3DN%26um%3D1

Where did we go wrong?

Once the symbol of a proud and defiant young nation, the Rattlesnake is now hunted mercilessly. Where did we go wrong?
Remember the tale of the Tortoise and the Hare? In the end, the tortoise won the race. What about the tale of the Tortoise and the Rattlesnake? In this story the tortoise loses everything. The story? Well, in Georgia there is a game called “Gas the Rattlesnake”. This is done so they can be captured and taken to one of two Rattlesnake Roundups. Here snakes are “milked” for venom, killed and skinned, cooked, gawked at, sold and generally mistreated. The tortoise is an innocent bystander. The way it works is this: the snake lives in the burrow that the tortoise digs, kind of like a roommate. When the strong and fearless snake hunter blows gasoline into the burrow, the snake leaves and the tortoise dies. And so do the many other creatures that live in the burrow. And the point? The point is that the whole exercise is pointless and destructive. Nobody needs to catch and kill these beautiful and increasingly rare snakes. The whole exercise is for a certain kind of person to demonstrate “manliness” and a few cities to make money on the festival. And over 300 species that live with the tortoise die for the morons. And of course the snakes die too. What a total waste of life.

Gadsden Flag Image: Public domain.

Interesting Food Continued

The photo probably is all you need to figure out why this was an interesting food. This fine sausage is a Christmas speciality Tuscany and probably other parts of Italy as well. We found it in a tiny grocery store in Castiglione d'Orcia, a small hill town near Montipulchiano. We were looking for some smoked salmon and the ingredients for a nice pasta dish when we saw it. Now this, I thought, is really a "head cheese". Naturally I had to have a slice and despite the way it looks, the taste was wonderful. Spicy and tangy, and not many bristles. If you get out that way in the winter, look for it. You won't be disappointed. By the way, Sally passed up this chance to taste the head. Maybe next time I can convince her to take the plunge.
Image: Woody Search