Addendum: Habanero

Today I added habanero chillies and limes to the pepper sauce. I am riding such a rush of endorphins right now.

I have seen the Space Coyote.

On the Sauce

Still on my carribean kick, I got the urge to try making Pepper Sauce. I just got a new emulsion blender a couple of weeks ago and was ready to try it out.

So here is a shot of the ingredients:

Vinegar, papaya, celantro, ginger, thyme, dry mustard, lemon, onion, garlic, chillies, red pepper, and curry paste.

I was supposed to use habenero chillies but the store was out of em. So I made a mix of red pepper, red hot chillies, and thai bird eye chillies.

After prepping all of the ingredients they went into a pan and were simmered for about twenty minutes.

Lemme tell you that standing over a giant pot of simmering chillies and vinegar will strip the senses from your nasal cavities and leave you feeling bleached.

After taking multiple sample tastes to tweak the ingredients I also felt a little high. Must have been the endorphin rush.

So at the end of the long arduous process, behold: 2 litres of Pepper Sauce!

As time goes by this savoury, tart and spicy sauce will mellow and grow in mature heat. Sweet sweet pain.

So what does one eat with pepper sauce? Anything you like. It goes awesome with stews, fried items, and even sandwiches. The only problem with sandwiches though is that this sauce tends to dissolve the bread quickly.

I couldn't wait to try the sauce so of course I had to hit the drive thru and get the 10 piece nuggets. Good stuff!

Addendum: Blast from the past

I couldn't resist. This may be the shittiest song of the 80's. The bagpipes are especially cheesy. So cheesy I can spread it on a cracker.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=99P7TTvpO1g

Jerk Chikin n' K-tel

Took a break from work today and hit a little Jamaican restaurant I know for lunch.

Imagine a little hole in the wall where all the tables and chairs are black and green with little bottles of Matouk's Pepper Sauce everywhere.

Anyhow I ordered my jerk chicken with dirty rice and beans and sat down to chow down on spicy lunch.

Staring out of the picture window looking out at Yonge Street, I enjoyed my food watching the world go by. The stereo speakers mounted about the restaurant pumped out the requisite Bob Marley tracks. Come to think of it, I don't know if you can actually get a license to open a carribean restaurant without proof of Marley or steel pan music CDs.

The food was good and the atmosphere made my mind wander between downtown Toronto and a sandy little BBQ shack somewhere on white sand and blue shores.

Then the music suddenly switched like a vinyl LP getting yanked off the needle. Then all of a sudden I am listening to Paula Abdul's "Rush Rush" (circa 1991)!

Ok I thought...maybe this is just a mistake...maybe somebody flipped on the radio? Even the Rastaman working the buffet counter probably gets tired of non-stop reggae once in awhile.

But no! The volume went up and the restaurant started to groove ever so slightly. It was deliberate, and it was craved.

For the next twenty minutes, the stereo wailed out 80's classics ranging from Bonnie Tyler to Anita Baker to Sheena Easton and even the rarely spotted "Sade".

Then just as fast as they entered my lunch hour, the 80's were gone and the restaurant was back to playing the Reggae. The stereo volume went down, the customers lowered their heads over their plates, and the buffet guy stopped chopping the chicken in rhythm to the music. It was so surreal.

(just when I was hoping to hear Kool and the Gang)

I love my little Jamaican restaurant!

Squirrel Attack

I was in the park today enjoying the fall weather and taking in the autumn leaves when I came across this squirrel.

I was standing next to a rail when I noticed this little guy climb up the rail and run up next to me.

Since he was just about a foot away from me I thought, "Hmm...maybe I should snap this guy on my cell phone camera. Usually these guys are pretty boring but what the hell."

So I reached into my inside pocket and retrieved my phone. I looked back at the squirrel just to see if he was still there while I was getting my camera ready.

I looked back at my phone to get the settings right when out of the corner of my eye I saw a flash of black fur, tooth and nail.

Suddenly I realized that the little bastard had jumped on to my shoulder. I was being mugged.

So my survival instincts kicked in and I rolled my right shoulder with such force that I flung my enemy eight feet down and smote his ruin on the pavement below.

But as soon as his carcass met the sidewalk he rolled and came up into a defensive stance. The bastard wanted more!

I took a half step back and was ready to launch a brutal roundhouse to his head if he wanted to taste my size 10 Addidas sneaks. The bastard stood his ground and gave me the evil eye.

Respecting each other's power, we each backed off and broke off the fight. The squirrel kept following me (no doubt looking for a free meal), but stayed back a fair distance.

Fucking squirrel.

The Bomb Shelter

Look what I spotted at my buddy Darcy's place yesterday.

Next time I go on a curry bender or eat a gallon of chilli, THIS is where I will crash afterwards.

When you gotta make a run for the border, give Darcy a call.

My First Duck

Thanksgiving just came around again and I was not in the mood to cook a turkey. They are giant bird beasts who though maybe tasty, doom the host to several weeks of eating turkey.

Turkey sandwiches, turkey soup, turkey casserole, turkey fried rice, turkey pot pie, turkey stew... and the rarely seen but desperate
Gobbler Pizza.

So this year I decided to try roasting a duck. I've never cooked duck before because I found it hard to work with. Like lamb, if you screw it up, damn it tastes horrible. So all these years I've avoided the test. Until this year...

Step 1: The preparation.

Get your duck and wash it thoroughly with cold water. Inside and outside. Get your fingers in there and scrub till it doesn't feel slick and gross anymore (you might need some wine/beer to drink when getting through this portion of the process).

Poke the bird all over with a toothpick so that the duck fat will have some where to go later. Rub the bird inside and out with lots of salt, pepper, nutmeg, and garlic powder. Hold your nose because a raw duck smells like wet dog. Marinade over night.

Day 2: Into the oven

Take the duck and cram it with a handful of fresh thyme and a clove of garlic. Then tie the legs together to keep the cavity shut.

Place on a rack in a shallow pan of water. The water keeps the bird from smoking when its fat hits the pan.

Roast at 300 F for about 2.5 hours. Then crank the temperature to 375 F for the final hour. Baste the bird every half hour. Don't be alarmed when you see two cups of fat in the pan, because that is what you want: slow rendering of fat from duck.

Step 3: Crossing the finish line

When the skin is brown, blistered, and crunchy all over, then you have done a good job. During the last hour of cooking, feel free to toss into the pan any side dishes you'd like.

For me it was baby potatoes, young carrots, leeks, and the liver from the duck. It was fast and easy to do. Mind you, the veggies are going to be swimming in duck fat, but come on: Thanksgiving is just once a year right?

The Verdict:

Check it out! Thanks giving dinner with all the fixings!

The duck turned out lovely. The skin was crunchy and savoury like bacon. The meat was tender and mild like turkey but not dry. It was moist and delicious.

I think I'll retire my turkey recipe for a few yars still I get sick of duck and move on to leg of lamb or Trinidad jungle rat.

We'll see.

On the Half Shell

Last night I hit a pub on Front Street with my buddy Michael.

This pub specializes in raw oysters, but only on Thursdays. I guess that is the one day of the week that they come in from Prince Edward Island.

I gotta admit that I was a little apprehensive, but I wanted to go and try raw oysters.

Now I've had them a couple of times in the past and was thoroughly revolted. Chewing on those oysters filled your mouth with this horrible funk that could only be described as fish poo.

Since then, I've read and heard of people's devotion to the raw oyster. That is was an unequaled treat that is simply sublime. So I gave them another shot last night.

So at the pub we got a dozen oysters and steadied myself with a few pints of Rickards Red. I picked up an oyster, breathed a curse on myself for being in this predicament, and swallowed.

On the advice of friends I didn't chew the first oyster. Iwas told that swallowing the oyster whole is the trick to enjoying the shellfish. And so I did.

The verdict: Interesting, but boring. All I could taste was the briny water and felt the sensation of a giant booger going down my throat. But it didn't taste foul. So I escalated the assault.

I took another oyster, and dabbed it with lemon, before slurping it into my mouth.

I chewed.

Not bad! It didn't suck! A very subtle sweetness. Quite tasty. It seemed that the secret to enjoying the oyster is to be sure it is damn fresh. Otherwise it is horrible and "fish pooey".

Happy in my discovery that raw oysters are tasty and kick ass with a pint, we ordered another dozen and jumped into a few more pints.
It was great, and I might do it again next week.

The only draw back was that I still had to work the next day, and Friday is great, but not with a hangover. A small one that is...

Dundas and Yonge Hostage

Went for a walk at lunch today and found myself at the square at Dundas and Yonge.

Suddenly I saw all these people get up from this makeshift patio and run amuck.

Then this dude with a gun sneeks up on this other dude who was just standing around smiling.

That's when I noticed the cameras, boom mikes, and police standing around.

It was yet another film production and they were filming something called "The Border". I was caught off guard because my spidey senses didn't go off since I didn't see the standard fleet of movie trailers that accompany every movie shoot.

Then came this woman from the left waving another pistol and having a standoff with the hostage situation.

Just so you know, this Eva Longoria looking actress was barely 5 feet tall.

After they finished the scene, ther crowd simply turned around and went on their way. Just another Monday in Toronto.

On my way back to the office I chatted with some co-workers and found that the building across my office was where they filmed Denzel Washington's, "John Q".

So look out y'all. I am bound to be discovered any day now.