Smoking ribs 2009 1.0

I don't smoke ribs well. Very inconsistent. I never get the rave reviews that I do with a pork shoulder or brisket. This week's batch was better that some. Temp was mainly in the 180 to 225 range for about ten hours.

One of the mistakes I may be making is too much rub. I use the same rub that I use for a pork roast which is about three parts brown sugar, one part white sugar and about one part a combination of black pepper, salt, paprika, garlic powder. It works great on a roast, creating a nice sweet crust that is a great compliment to the meat inside.

However, on ribs this rub is like a hard shell over a smaller piece of meat. The meat tastes good but the crust can be overwhelming. What I think I should do is try the next batch with a very light rub or mop. Perhaps one batch with a little salt and pepper and another batch that gets a regular coating in a light sweet/sour mop of vinegar, sugar, mustard.

The ribs this weekend were not bad, but I think could have been much better. They were better than what you normally get at a restaurant but not the quality that I think it possible.

All in, it was a great day for smoking. Buds on the trees, spring is on the move. On the negative side most of the family is turning vegetarian and i'm left to eat this stuff myself or share with a few others.

Smokin

April 11, 5am, the first pork shoulder and brisket of the year are on the smoker.

The rub is something I throw together that seems to work out well. Mainly it's brown sugar, perhaps two thirds. The rest is white sugar, paprika, garlic powder, salt, pepper. Lots of rub on the meat and then allowed to set in the fridge overnight.

The fire is the basic Kingsford charcoal along with some soaked wood chips or chunks. Usually hickory or a fruit wood like apple or cherry. I cut down a maple tree in the yard last year and have been drying some of that in the garage for use later in the year.

I'll keep the temp around 220 for the next 12 hours.

Verdict: Some amazing stuff. I thought the brisket was better than the pork but most of the eaters thought the reverse.

How an Avenger saved my life

Baseball season has started. The Cardinals lost their opener. Rob and I talked about it today and I was reminded how much baseball means to both of us.

Team: The Avengers

Year: 1996

City: St. Louis

Situation: Job turmoil, my new "boss" is nuts....and I may be next.

One of the strangest job situations i've ever had was one where my so called boss was someone I had kept from getting a job early in his career. His dream was to work for our firm, I and others realized the was out of his league and blocked him from being hired by the company. Ten years later, at another firm, he's my boss. The lack of understanding of our business had grown expotentially and he proceeded down a path that dismantled the company.

The stress of this was something. I won't go into the details but it still bugs me more than ten years later that I didn't do more to stop this. But it wasn't all bad and there were opportunities to impact bad decisions and make them less bad, or in some cases actually good ones. But there were days in 96, 97, 98 when I just couldn't stand the thought of going into work one more day.

It was in these days that a kid, a glove, a bat and a ball kept my life in focus. During these years Rob lived for baseball. Glory days as Springsteen would call it. There are great things in life and being a really good ball player on a really good team when you're ten years old is near the top of the list. He made some mistakes but had more than his share of game winning hits and magical plays at the plate. In the spring, fall and summer our days often came to a close out in the expansive field in our back yard, playing pitch. Sometimes for only twenty minutes, other times for an hour.

On particularly tough days at work I eased my mind by thinking about what I had to look forward to when I got home. "In just six hours I'll be in the back yard hitting flies to Rob", or "in just 2 hours and 27 minutes, we'll be playing catch". Crazy mind game, but a little trick that help me get past the next conference call, the next meaningless report submission, the next lost client account.

It wasn't always planned. Sometimes I'd come home, change clothes, plop down on the couch, grab the remote and get ready for a snooze. Not a thought of going outside. Then came, "Hey, Dad, you wanna play catch", and I'd be out of the house, down the hill and in the common ground shared with our neighbors.

There was something about those hours playing with my son that helped me put everything into perspective. Sure things were tough, but so was I. My son, a few yards away, is not worried about the markets. He's waiting for the next toss from his dad and is oblivious to all the grownup stuff swirling around in my life. This is how it should be.

While tossing the ball I'd look up the hill to our house and know that inside was a mom fixing supper and two daughters. Often they joined us, altogther or individually, glove or bat in tow. Rachel held the family record of 200+ tosses without a miss. She was every bit as beautiful and glorious on the field as he was. Caroline toddled around and did her best to catch a ball when not distracted by something much more imporant, such as a butterly or lightning bug.

As the sun set we climbed the hill to head back inside. The climb meant a return to responsibility and each step seemed a reminder as your pulled yourself up, with armfuls of bats and balls. Inside that house there was homework to be finished, spelling tests to drill for, baths and stories before bedtime. In the field there was escape and a few precious moments when nothing else in the world mattered.

To my son, it was the end of another day and a few hours playing with Dad. To Dad, it was much needed relief and the knowledge that no matter what the next day brings, I can count on a kid and a glove waiting for me when the working day draws to a close. I've always said our children each came into our lives when we needed them most. In 1996 I needed a ten year old.

Thinking Easter

Why do Christians make more of Christmas than Easter? In part because we are more comfortable sharing the holiday with non believers. You don't have to be a Christian to enjoy the religious aspect of Christmas, heck you can be an atheist or a muslim and celebrate the birth of a "good teacher" from antiquity.


People don't talk about Easter. They don't say "Happy Easter" at Target, the way they do at Christmas. Easter is resurrection. Easter is the Lord of creation stepping into this world and into my place and suffering on my behalf. Easter is the thing you can't shake, you can't get out of your head when you really think about it. I can't understand it, but I can accept it, and thank Him for it. I can live like I am grateful.

Fire up the Smoker 2009

A late spring snow today but I've decided that regardless of the weather i'm smoking some meat next weekend. Of course that will be on Easter so maybe I should rethink this. Probably better ways to celebrate the resurrection of our Lord. Perhaps Saturday.

Leaving London

Here for 2.5 days and was a whirlwind of activity. Long drive to Canary Wharf from Heathrow due to detours related to G20 summit. Stayed at the Four Seasons and room overlooked the Thames. Meetings mainly related to evolution of the investment industry and securities regulation in the UK and Europe. No time for tourist things. Had lunch at the Garrick Club, which is connected to the British theatre and is more like an art museum than a private club. Had an interesing meeting on Islamic finance at BLME with one of the leading experts in the field, one that contines to grow in relevance. Served on a judging panel for students in an international securities analyst competition.

Kept waking up around 3am each morning, which seems to be the case wherever I travel internationally. Didn't really make sense since this would have been 9pm back home. Nice thing was I had the gym at the hotel all to myself.
Did not encounter any of the protests shown on tv from the G20 meeting, which was here this week. Locals who saw the crowds commented that there were more tourists taking pictures of protestors than actual protestors.
Food was unexceptional, as I'd always heard.
At the Amsterdam airport, home soon.
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Tubac Arizona

I'm sitting in an art gallery waiting for a free concert by the Tubac Singers. Have no ideas what to expect. Waiting for the girls to conclude their shopping, as if such a thing was possible.
Earlier, outside, a guitarist played What child is this? Almost like he knew I was coming.
Typical community choir, leading off with "Lullaby of Broadway" and followed by "Black is the colour of my true loves hair".
This morning spent in Nogales, Mexico. Bought a crucifix from from a young girl with baby in tow. Perhaps 16 years old. Only vendor I didn't dicker with.
Photo was taken outside Tucson. It is spring in the desert.
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Imagine no possessions - but remember John Lennon always made money for his partners

Are there any long term good things that will come of the current economic unpleasantness? Is this suffering for naught, or will something be learned, a wrong course corrected?

Perhaps. The Congress seems to be making the point quite clearly that one does not want the United States as a business partner. There is a real dark and twisted side to being in league with a government to run a business. My industry knew this and is teaching a hard lesson to the rest of the country as one company after another scrambles to return government "help" that came last fall.

The roots of this problem are many but the seeds were planted decades ago in various forms of government intervention in the economy. The government decided that it was important for people to be homeowners. This certainly sounds good and for years I thought it made sense. The United States created government agencies to either offer homes loans or guarantee them so that private businesses would extend loans to those they would have otherwise rejected, or charged a premium rate.

I do not believe anymore that home ownership has much to do with living a good life. Certainly a very smug comment from a homeowner. I realize millions of non-homeowners would be glad to trade places with me. While it is certainly very pleasing there are many other possession that can bring equal satisfaction, though material possessions have their limits. I realize in hindsight that I own my home in part because the United States encouraged me to. Left to my own devices I might have chosen a different way to spend my money.

You don't find the American dream in the signing of mortgage papers. You find it most clearly in the heart of a teenager and that true independence they long for as no one else does. They cry out to make their own decisions, decide their future for themselves, not be told what to do, and follow their own desires. This pure independence gets watered down as you get older but in the teenager it is a God-given rage against intervention in ones life by others. Encouragement or gentle pressure to make a particular decision can be as bad as forcing one.

Owning a home is great, but so is owning a rare piece of art, a silver plated hookah, a first edition of Les Miserables, a 1965 Mustang, or a new John Deere combine.

Shouldn't it be people who decide what is important to them? Why use tax dollars to favor one industry over another, whether it's home builders, colleges or windmill makers? What did we get from decades of pro home-ownership policies? What happened when government tax policy diverted dollars from what people might have pursued on their own? What businesses were not started and what books were not written?

When government picks the winners and losers in economic competition, it is rarely correct. It is swayed by the moment. It has no soul, no passion, no creativity. It doesn't know what is best. It only knows how to survive. Which explains why it is usually at its best when under actual physical attack, wartime. Only then, when its survival is threatened, does it come closest to making decisions clearly and in the best interests of all.

Who is John Galt?

A bill passed Congress this past week that, if it becomes law, will tax a portion of my pay at 100%. Pay I have already recieved and put to good use for the benefit of my family, my friends, my church, myself. Oops. What was I thinking?

I have a friend who is a member of the united states congress. He puts it this way, “To continually reward executives of failing companies with million-dollar bonuses is bad enough, but to do so while receiving taxpayer dollars is criminal,”. What Congress knows, that the public does not, is the bill is not aimed toward one company but toward the compensation structure of millions of citizens.

So i'll add failed executive to the list of things i've been called. I'm one of the bad guys, lock me up. It's March. I'll watch basketball while Atlas shrugs.

$12.50 invested perfectly

Sometime in 1999, probably on a Saturday and probably at Walmart, a dad and his six year old daughter purchased a large cardboard foldout map of the United States. On each state was a circle to hold its commemorative quarter.

I asked her, " do you know how old you'll be when this is all filled up?" and told her she would be sixteen. Her eyes lit up and she probably jumped and clapped as though there was something magical about this book. Just fill it up with quarters and you'll be sixteen.

Over the years we placed them in one by one. Some coins held more interest than others, like those for states that held special meaning to her and our family... Summer days in Tennessee and Virginia, her home state of Missouri, Christmas at her grandparents homes in Arkansas and South Carolina. Usually with each quarter came two questions. Dad, have you ever been there? Have I ever been there? As one of the official historians of the first few years of her life, I was a natural one to ask. At that early age a better question might have been, "will I ever go there?" The answer would have been, "probably so".

So much has changed in the filling up of that book. Her oldest sister was a college freshman and is now an attorney with a career in environmental work. Her big brother was a seventh grader and is now out of college and starting his career in St. Louis with an investment firm.

Two days ago we filled up the book. Like magic the six year old has become a sixteen year old and is a high school sophomore and budding artist. The house in St. Louis is now a bigger house in Minneapolis. The young frisky dog is now the old grumpy dog. Her grandfather is gone but her two wonderful, but aging, grandmothers remain. Her father and mother have more grey hair.

50 quarters, 50 conversations, 50 thoughts about places traveled and travels to come, 50 dreams, 50 moments between a dad and daughter, some special some not, all gone.

Time rolls on...........

Freer Trade

It's a worn out cliche, we don't learn much from history. Perhaps because we do not stop to think that issues we are dealing may not be modern, but ancient. It's not that we don't learn from history, we just don't think about it. We are no smarter than our forbears. I would be challenged to think of a truly new, truly unique, world problem.

A version of the following idiocy could have come from our current or recent houses of congress, or presidents, of the United States....

"In A.D. 22 the emperor Tiberius lectured the Senate that the habit of luxury and the appetite for Eastern exotica had provoked a hemorrage of Rome's money "to alien or hostile countries". Buying imported goods was nothing less than "subversion of the state" "

Spice - Jack Turner

At the edge of the World

Garfunkels Restaurant, Heathrow, Terminal 4, 10am

Layover of four hours to close a wonderful trip to Cape Town, South Africa. My first trip on Virgin Airlines, business class.
Also this connection marks my first time in the mother country. Odd that it has taken so long. Many would say this one doesn't even count, since I'm only changing planes. My first impression is favorable as the Brits have passed the crucial test, they can make a very good cup of coffee.
Cape Town opened my eyes once more to the wonders of this world. Less than 24 hours ago I stood at the Cape of Good Hope and saw the confluence of the Indian and Atlantic Oceans. I had fish and chips at the town of Fish Hoek with friends. I have friends, good friends all over the world and its one of the many blessings of this life. The day was also an investment in these friendships and brought us all a bit closer together.

In Green Market Square I bought too many trinkets and did my best to work prices down to the level where buyer and seller could walk away with some sense of dignity. Managed to get most home in one piece. The people were warm and friendly and with a distinctive laid back style that helped put the pressures of this day and these markets in perspective.

Regarding Virgin - they go pretty far to try and pamper you and make you feel special. Nothing like the Asians but definitely a cut above the US majors. The problem is, you have to go for the pampering. If you don't want it, you quickly become an outcast and get ignored by the wait staff. Sir, do you want some pajamas? No. Sir, would you like me to make your bed? No. Sir, would you like dinner, No (It was after midnight and I just wanted to sleep). After those three nos, I was personna non grata through the rest of the flight. No breakfast, no hot towel, no drinks, nothing. The one time during the night I asked for coffee, the waiter proceeded to make some instant. Instant coffee! In business class! Never again.
But enough whining, for yesterday I was at the end of the world......