Meaner Than a Junkyard Dog

Just when I figured out the right way to really char-broil a steak, they are talking loud about the dangerous carcinogens.  By cooking meats at these high temperatures, you can produce the same types of carcinogens found in cigarette smoke.  There ain't no joy in that! Seems every time you really find something tasty, you have to read how bad it is for you.  I know steak is not something to eat everyday and who could afford to anyway?  But this was a huge piece of London Broil on sale for a song.  I was able to marinate it, broil it and then slice is for steak and eggs with a side spinach salad. 

That is a breakfast for the gods right there.  If you're a woman, you can guess where I was in my monthly cycle. I try to remain civilized but I have to admit, when nearing the flow I feel the urge to rip heads off of women that stare at me sideways.  Men would be advised to stay a good distance away if they are any kind of ornery too.  Not because I'm dangerous, but I can throw off a foul attitude and funk, maybe make you think twice about messing with me. And I need my meat and proteins. 

It doesn't make me entirely human but eating a big meal like this definitely tames a bit of the werewolf-like tendencies.

At least enough to get me to work and just hope no one comes along and  rattles my chain.

If I Could Save Beans in a Bottle

My sister's friend in grade school was Anna Jaraghe, (not sure on the spelling). You know how you sort of relate an event or claim to fame to each person in your childhood? Well Anna for me was the girl that a nun slapped so hard in the face in class that it left a hand mark. I don't know what she did or said but I remember that handmark and the story. She also claimed to be a big chunk Cherokee Indian by the way and she was very serious. She was one of those kids that moved into town after we all knew each others' stories, so she was mysterious and fascinating. Well her mom made THE best Great Northern Bean and ham soup that I've ever had, ever.

I don't know what she did, or how she did it. I was pretty young and much more concerned about making my head feel fuzzy than eating great food. But no one could deny that smell entering her house whilst she worked on that big pot of beans. Anna let us taste them when finished one time. We didn't even have a bowl, we had a TASTE and I'll never forget them. The broth was thick and creamy. It was white and tasted like smokey ham. Ok, Here's what I know. We were stoned, so maybe the taste was a little amplified. But other than that, I know they took all day long, she used ham hocks and other unidentifiable animal parts. There were levels of cooking as I recall and for some reason I remember someone mentioning low simmer and covered. The pot was bigger than mom's tamale pot. And like I said, the smell filled the entire house.

Once in awhile I'll get nutty and think that I have a chance of making this soup even close to Anna's mother. This time I was sorta short on time, so it didn't get the full treatment but I did have this great picnic ham bone. I soaked the beans overnight. I cooked onions, carrots and celery for the broth, added bay leaves, white pepper and slow cooked the bean with the bone for 4 hours until the meat fell off into the soup.

Hearty and satisfying. Feels like its fortified with lots of good stuff. Its not Anna's mom soup but that's okay. I think she'll always hold the crown.