Recipe - Glazed Spare Ribs

By popular demand, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls: the glazed spare rib recipe.

I've made this recipe a couple of times. The first was for my birthday last spring and Joanne liked it so much she asked for it for Mother's Day. This is also the recipe I used for her 40th birthday. This makes for a great dinner, or, when cut into individual ribs (recommended), excellent finger food/appetizers.

We've used the rub alternatively on chicken cuts and pork chops with great results. Whenever you use it, the longer you leave the rub on the meat in the refrigerator, the more tender the meat will be (the rub actually tenderizes the cuts).

It is a very slight variation on Thomas Keller's recipe from Ad Hoc at Home. Thomas Keller, as I've noted before, is a genius.

Ingredients:
Rub
1 cup packed light brown sugar
2 tablespoons kosher salt
2 teaspoons smoked paprika
2 teaspoons cayenne pepper
2 teaspoons garlic powder
1 teaspoon ground allspice
1 teaspoon pepper flakes (I use chile caribe, but up to you)

2 slabs ribs, about three pounds each, cut into 3-bone portions

Instructions:
Combine all ingredients in a bowl.
Line a baking sheet with wax or parchment paper.
Rub ribs on all sides with the rub mixture.
Wrap the ribs in plastic wrap and refrigerate for between 2 and 6 hours.

Grilling Instructions:
Heat your grill on all burners to medium heat. Take an onion and slice it in half. Put the onion on a grill fork and dip the flat side into some canola oil. Rub the flat side of the oiled onion on the grill to clean and season it. (This tip alone, from Keller himself, has improved all of our grill flavors geometrically).

Prepare your grill for direct heat cooking, followed by indirect cooking. Depending on your grill, your settings will vary, obviously. For ours, we have a small/medium size grill (two long burners, front and back), so I fire up the front to high and leave the back one off. The temperature of the grill should remain around 250 degrees F.

Sear the ribs in batches. Don't crowd the ribs, man!

Place the ribs meat side down and sear for about two minutes. Turn 90 degrees and sear another two minutes to create that classic crosshatch pattern. Turn the ribs over and set on the cool side of the grill, meat side UP. Close that lid and leave it closed for about two hours. As long as the temperature stays at about 250, you're good.

After two hours, take the ribs off and cut into individual bones (recommended). Enjoy with maybe some mashed potatoes or fries, a nice salad, bread and a cold one or two. Maybe something from...Belgium?

Weekly Record (Aug. 21 - Aug. 27, 2011)

Sunday

• Hiked Mount Audubon. 8 miles, 2700 feet elevation gain.

Monday

• No work.

Tuesday

• Men's Fitness "Yearlong Workout - Phase 1, Workout 1." 
• Boxing routine: 1 minute heavy bag workout &100 skipropes x 10 reps.
• 11 pushups, rest for 11 seconds; 10 pushups, rest for 10 seconds; 9 pushups, rest for 9 seconds; etc., through to 1 pushup, rest for 1 second (66 pushups).
• 5.52 K Run (27:05 = 7.54/mile)

Wednesday

• Men's Fitness "Prehab Workout" - No weights, body resistance only (flexibility) 

Thursday

• Men's Fitness "Yearlong Workout - Phase 1, Workout 2." 
• Boxing routine: 1 minute heavy bag workout &100 skipropes x 10 reps.
• 11 pushups, rest for 11 seconds; 10 pushups, rest for 10 seconds; 9 pushups, rest for 9 seconds; etc., through to 1 pushup, rest for 1 second (66 pushups).
• 4.8 K Barefoot Run (25:30 = 8.5/mile)

Friday

• No Work (Slacking. No excuse.)

Saturday

• Men's Fitness "Yearlong Workout - Phase 1, Workout 3." 
• 11 pushups, rest for 11 seconds; 10 pushups, rest for 10 seconds; 9 pushups, rest for 9 seconds; etc., through to 1 pushup, rest for 1 second (66 pushups)
• 6 miles on the bike.

Roberto Bolano - *2666*

I’ve just finished the late Roberto Bolańo’s 2666. At 893 pages, it is an enormous brick of a book that defies simple description. Ostensibly, it is a work primarily concerned with and set in the fictional northern Mexican city of Santa Teresa in the mid-to-late 1990’s, though it is truly a transnational novel.

It is divided into five parts. The first three vary greatly in style and intent. “The Part About the Critics,” is a largely mundane story of a love quadrangle (one woman, three men; all scholars) and the participants’ preoccupation with a German novelist, one Benno Von Archimboldi. The second, “The Part About Amalfitano,” is a wildly surreal exploration of a professor and his estranged (and strange) wife. The third, “The Part About Fate” introduces a reporter and is a stylish variation on noir in the vein of David Lynch (who is name-dropped in this section, I cannot believe coincidentally). These first three portions, while connected only tangentially, combine into a mosaic of impending and cycling dread. We are witnesses to a gradual decline into chaos, in both an immediate and global sense: “…it’s a sign,” a character quips in Part Three. “’A sign of what?’ asked Fate. ‘That we’re living on a planet of lunatics,” said the editor.”

With Bolańo as our Virgil, we arrive at the threshold of the abyss in the novel’s fourth section: “The Part About the Crimes” and Bolańo wastes no time in descending even further. Abandon all hope, indeed.

Part Four, the anchor, is primarily concerned with narrating the events and circumstances around the deaths of 400 some odd women in Santa Teresa. Frequently, Bolańo writes in gruesome detail about their separate (yet frequently referred to as collective) fates. In the hands of a less skilled writer, the novel would become just another exercise or example of misogyny or “horror porn.” Rather than thrilling to the murders of so many women, what we find is that the relentless onslaught, the description after description after description, is eventually and unfortunately – though perhaps purposefully – desensitizing.  Conversely, other stories appearing between the killings more fully engage us. How is it that a story about church desecration, for example, enraptures more than the fates of the factory women? Why are we more invested? It is a complete irony: we care more about the sensational events that happen in the churches – mere buildings, really – than we do about the women, the humanity, the church is designed to serve. The same can be said to a greater or lesser degree about the events that transpire in a prison. Like the guards who remove their hats and take out cameras to film the atrocities perpetrated on and by the inmates, we are riveted to the scene, invested more in the criminals than the victims. Bolańo indicts us as voyeurs of the worst sort.

That is exemplar of Bolańo’s real point here: how can the killings of so many women be casually dismissed out of hand? The reader, numbed by the descriptions, is complicit. We shrug. The narrative departures from the killing catalog are largely about the men (The Penitent, Juan de Dios Martinez, Klaus Haas, the narcos, etc.). These stories draw us in more fully and are more fascinating. Part of that is stylistic – Bolańo presents the masculine stories with more artistry and flair. The killings themselves are somewhat coldly and journalistically described with an air of detachment. Figuratively and stylistically, they are newspaper clippings or police reports. It is a tribute to Bolańo’s technique that he can execute on these stylistic back-and-forths with seeming effortlessness and a completely unified voice. Through these devices, Bolańo amplifies our sense of separation from the women and their fate. Bolańo seems to be saying ours is a society that wants to own, consume, and ultimately dispose of women. Until that changes, what hope is there for anything else? Any other kind of real, significant meaning? How can you not see this hell around you?

The sensation is cumulative over the first four sections: the female scholar, the professor’s wife and daughter, the reporter’s mother, the murdered women. The gradual descent. The fourth section is the exclamation, the shouting from the proverbial rooftop.

And then there’s that enigmatic title. It is a cue from the artist. 2666: “To 666” or “To Hell.” It’s not a year, folks, it’s a destination. But is there a difference? We’re talking eventualities here.

The final portion is devoted to the German novelist Benno Von Archimboldi referred to in sections 1 and 2. It is the story of Hans Reiter and his transformation over time from an imaginative child and caring brother into an adult. Born in 1920, Reiter grows into manhood and is quickly enlisted into the German service, fighting in World War 2 along the Russian Front. Bolańo uses his stories-within-stories-within-stories device here to great effect. We observe Reiter’s evolutions and devolutions and his life and loves. Despite some very grisly descriptions of war and the horrors of Nazi Germany, this section has the most cohesive narrative structure overall. And, despite the fact that there have been countless narratives about World War 2 and Nazi Germany, we are really entering new terrain here. Bolańo’s take on the scene is surreal and dramatic and artistic. The recursive nature amplifies the question implicit in the narrative: what is the role of the artist in our chaotic and often nightmarish world?

As readers, we carry with us into Part Five the expectation is that, somehow, this last section will bring all of the diverse elements of the novel together. That it will, as Faulkner told Malcolm Cowley about The Portable Faulkner, make “the whole thing fall into pattern like a jigsaw puzzle when the magician's wand touched it." Alas, it is not to be. What we get instead is a glimpse into the writer’s life and perhaps a small window on the artist’s role in challenging the chaotic nature of the universe. Is Archimboldi a stand-in for Bolańo himself? The mysterious man? The ever elusive author? Who knows?

In terms of style, 2666 is written simply, the prose unornamented. In those places where Bolańo does offer up a strange, uniquely-his-own metaphor (“They moved like commandos lost on a toxic island on another planet.”), it is a bit jarring. The denser passages and the paragraphs that go on for pages can become a little hypnotic. The stories within stories element in all of the parts is a nice narrative device. It works in 2666 just as well as it does in other favorite novels: Don Quixote and Cormac McCarthy’s The Crossing come to mind. It makes the narrative richer, more real, and yet still manifests the characteristics of a dream. I cannot quite bring myself to call it a flaw in execution that, sometimes, at the ends of these little vignettes, I had to page back and return to the context of the linear narrative that led into the tangent. I blame myself for getting sucked into the departure so completely.

In the end, 2666 is a discordant piece of music. Our mind’s ear craves some resolution to that discord. Or maybe it is a riddle that requires an answer, a solution to the puzzle.  What we discover is that the answer to the riddle is that there is no riddle, no puzzle, and hence no answers or solutions. Or, if you prefer, the music is the discord, the puzzle is the answer. The artist celebrates this disconnect and, for all its unpleasantness, makes it worth beholding.

Trail Report: Mt. Audubon; Indian Peaks Wilderness, Brainard Lake Rec Area

Date: August 21, 2011

Starting Time: 6:15 a.m.

Starting Temp: 50

Ending Time: 11 a.m.

Miles Total: 7.6 (3.8 each way)

Elevation Gain: 2725 ft (approx)

Getting There:  Highway 72 to Brainard Lake Road. Go west for approximately 3 miles. Pay at the kiosk or the pay station (if the kiosk isn't open yet). Go 3 miles on the paved road and follow the signs to the Mitchell Lake Trailhead parking lot. From here, use the Beaver Creek Trailhead from the Mitchell Lake Trailhead parking lot.


Mt. Audubon

Ah, Mount Audubon. We meet again.
When last I tried to hike your innocuous Mitchell Lake Trail, I slogged through snow as deep as three feet, post-holing to my crotch for stretches of nearly a mile, multiple times, with few respites between. I lost the bite valve to my pack and water spewed from my Kelty like a garden hose, soaking me to the bone. And yet I hiked on, across tundra frozen as solid and unforgiving as a Manhattan sidewalk. I scrambled up riprap and talus until my fingerprints were sanded clean. I gritted my teeth. I cursed. I shook my fist at you. And then I turned back less than half a mile from the summit with feet on the verge of frostbite, my energy and morale sapped, still facing about six miles over the same terrain I'd just crossed, back to the truck.

All told, between twelve and fourteen miles of sloggy, slushy, snowy trail that with every step took just a little of my spirit. I'm certain that, by trying to summit, I lost three years of life span. You mocked me, Mount Audubon. You mocked me!

That was April 2010. Today was a little different story.

OK. So Audubon is far from the most intimidating peak in the Front Range. But can you blame me for coming with some strong rhetoric for a hike that left me limping and complaining because of my unpreparedness and shortsightedness in the Spring? That April hike was the most exhausting physical enterprise I have ever endured. Period. I wasn't just in physical pain after that hike (I wasn't quite sure if I was going to be able to drive home). I was, well, pissed.

Today, however, was quite the opposite. The Yin to that hike's Yang. The Sun to that hike's Moon. The Dude to that hike's Walter.

I picked up my friend and hiking pal Christopher at 5 a.m. Yeah. You heard me. 5 A. (freaking) M. and we left Longmont shortly thereafter. After a pitchblack ride up the 7 and 27, we got to Brainard Lake Rec Area at a little before 6 and proceeded past the new fee kiosk (very nice, and very closed) on to the pay station. And What Do You Know? We arrive at the fee station at virtually the same time the rangers do. A quick review of the menu showed that the rec area asks for a $9 entry fee. Cash and check only. Now, I don't think I'm giving anything away here, but I don't carry cash. I'm married, not a pizza guy. So is Chris. Thus, pockets out and looking quite the sad sacks, I explained (and these are my exact words) that "We lack something of the funds." The ranger lady just kind of shrugged and said, "Just give us what you got." I put in my five bones, sealed the envelope, and we moved on.

Now, I should stress here that this is not an encouragement for you to bilk our forest service people (or anybody, for that matter) out of their due. The money that you spend touring some of America's vast and wonderful locales goes into making sure that those same places are there for YOUR kids when they visit. So spend 'em if you got 'em.



You get to the Lake Mitchell trailhead and the starting point for Mt. Audubon by going around Brainard Lake and up a short stretch. The trailhead is a well maintained locale and is very busy on the weekends. So come early.



It was a little deceiving in the early going about how much trail traffic we could expect. There were very few cars in the lot, and most of those looked like they belonged to overnighters. No worries, though. What would be would be. Shrugging into small hydration packs (going light and fast today), we hit the trail and were well underway by 6:15, two minutes before the scheduled sunrise.

The Mitchell Lake trail to Mt. Audubon is a well-groomed, well-maintained, well-traveled trail. I can say that now, because I've now had a chance to SEE it. When last I was here, this first, early section of the trail was still buried in winter snow and just touched by spring melt (and I'd already hiked three miles to get here). Packed sand make for easy going on the trail. Tall, magnificent lodgepole pines and spruce provide quite a bit of shade, too. This first section goes on for a little less than two miles or so before switching back and rounding out around the crest of a hill and entering the "tundra" section.

Let me stress that this section of the trail from the trailhead to the Beaver Creek trail junction is pretty low key. Even beyond the marker, it's pretty easy going for another mile. The altitude can sap the lungs, but this is a groomed, well-maintained trail with very little exposure. Once past this section, there are great views of the Front Range--including Longs and Meeker--even before ascending the last, talus-strewn section of the hike. The talus section can get a little difficult to navigate, but there are quite a few trail markers and cairns to guide you. We got off track a couple of times, but by this point, it's fair to say that it's going to require a little rockhopping, trail or no. Once topside, there are a few windbreaks to hunker down in.

 

Windbreak at the Summit

After a short break and a snack, we hustled straight down the talus and shaved a little time off our descent. We were pretty conscious to select a path that was bare rock rather than lichen covered. And, once back on the trail we made it back down to the parking lot in a little over 90 minutes by watch. We passed a lot more hikers on the way back, and I'm glad we got going early for this venture.

Top it off with lunch and a couple of glasses of suds at Oskar's in Lyons, and all in all, a pretty nice day in the mountains.

Blue Lakes, seen from the Trail on the Way Back

Weekly Record (Aug. 14 - Aug. 20, 2011)

Light Duty Week
Sunday

• No Work

Monday

• Men's Fitness "Prehab Workout" 

Tuesday

• No Work

Wednesday

• 10 pushups, rest for 10 seconds; 9 pushups, rest for 9 seconds; 8 pushups, rest for 8 seconds; etc., through to 1 pushup, rest for 1 second
• Men's Fitness "Prehab Workout" 
• 3.2 miles in 23:45 (7minute, 25 second miles). A NEW PERSONAL BEST!

Thursday

• 10 pushups, rest for 10 seconds; 9 pushups, rest for 9 seconds; 8 pushups, rest for 8 seconds; etc., through to 1 pushup, rest for 1 second
• Boxing routine: 1 minute heavy bag workout &100 skipropes x 10 reps
• Trail Run: Picture Rock - 6.5 miles in 66 minutes (10m, 6s miles)

 Friday

• No Work 

Saturday

• 10 pushups, rest for 10 seconds; 9 pushups, rest for 9 seconds; 8 pushups, rest for 8 seconds; etc., through to 1 pushup, rest for 1 second
• Men's Fitness "Prehab Workout" 

Weekly Record (Aug. 7 - Aug. 13, 2011)

Sunday

• 5.15 K Run (24:50 = 7:45/mile)

Monday

• Men's Fitness "Go To Workout" Week 6, Day 1 (bb 75 lbs; dbs 23 lbs.)
• Boxing routine: 1 minute heavy bag workout &100 skipropes x 10 reps
• 6.75 K Run (33:00 = 7.45/mile)
• 20 minutes yoga

Tuesday

• Men's Fitness "Go To Workout" Week 6, Day 2 (bb 75 lbs; dbs 23 lbs.)
• Flexibility exercises

Wednesday

• Recovery Day - 20 minutes yoga
• 20 minutes ball toss

Thursday

• Men's Fitness "Go To Workout" Week 6, Day 3 (bb 75 lbs; dbs 23 lbs.)
• Boxing routine: 1 minute heavy bag workout &100 skipropes x 10 reps
• >5 K Barefoot Run (25 minutes)
• 20 minutes ball toss
• 20 minutes yoga



Minimalist Running Footwear, by Duct



Friday

• Men's Fitness "Go To Workout" Week 6, Day 4 (bb 75 lbs; dbs 23 lbs.) - W.O. COMPLETE
• Batting cage session
• Vigorous all-day housecleaning (does that count?)

Saturday

• Day off.

Recipe: The Power Breakfast

Can't really call this a recipe, per se. This is the breakfast I've been eating four or five times a week for the past year or so. Provides for sustained, all-morning energy.

Bring 1 cup of water to a boil. Add 1/3 cup McCann's Irish Oatmeal. Reduce heat to low and cook for three minutes. Stir. Cook an additional four minutes. Pour into a cereal bowl.

Top with a teaspoon or two of cinnamon, a half container of yogurt, a handful of raisins, a handful of walnuts, and a sliced banana (or other -- an apple is good, too).

Pair with a cup of coffee. Enjoy.

Recipe: Spanish Shrimp

Had cause to revisit a family favorie last night, with mixed results. Typically, I love this recipe, but like all seafood dishes, it really starts with fresh ingredients. "Briny" shrimp just don't cut the mustard.

The recipe calls for:
• About a pound shrimp, peeled, tailed and deveined
• Sea Salt (see my notes and variation below)
• Extra-virgin olive oil
• 5-6 garlic cloves
• Chile (I've used slim jim cayenne, but prefer chile caribe -- to taste)
• Parsley, minced, about 2 tablespoons

1. Peel, tail, and devein the shrimp. Dry them with paper towels.
2. Season the shrimp with salt. CAUTION: Depending on the caliber of your shrimp, you will want to be judicious with the salt. Adding too much salt to already briny shrimp will make that situation worse. I've thought about using bacon to season this dish instead of salt, but have yet to do so (now, THAT's my idea of surf and turf). I think that may do double duty of adding the proper salty snap and minimizing the briny taste caused by some shrimp.
3. Heat oil in a non-stick skillet (anywhere from 1/8 cup on up). Heat over medium low and add the garlic. Heat until the garlic starts to sizzle and the aroma is fragrant. About 2 minutes. Reduce the heat if necessary.
4. Add the chile and stir.
5. Add the shrimp and cook until pink (3 minutes or so).
6. Add parsley.
7. Serve the shrimp in the pan.

We've varied how we accompany this shrimp. Sometimes, we've served it over angel hair (use a slotted spoon to move the shrimp to the pasta dish); we've also served it on bread. We've ALWAYS served it with cold white -- typically S.B., though we've had it with P.G. as well as Albarino.

Bon chance.