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ashes.

southbuffalotwpfire21

It was just a house fire, reported around 10:30 p.m. Sunday. An old place in a little tiny section of Armstrong County called Boggsville, a hamlet not big enough to make it on maps of the Pittsburgh area. The old Victorian’s residents made it out without serious injury, so the fire wasn’t remarkable enough that it made the PG or the Trib; it warranted just a 30-second clip on KDKA’s morning news.

It means a lot to us, though, especially to Mrs. Crappy. The house that burned to the ground last night was the home of her great-grandparents, her grandparents and, for a while, for her. It was the house that her mother and aunt and uncle grew up in; it was home base for the adventures she had with her cousins as a kid on hot summer afternoons.

For long time, Mrs. Crappy’s family was Boggsville’s population; she has recounted frequently that Karen and Jenny and she could stop at any house along the road, walk in and get a cold drink when they needed a break from the sun, because they knew everyone — and everyone knew them.

And that house was the hub of the community.

Mrs. Crappy’s family hadn’t owned the house for years, and most of the family members who lived in the area had long since moved on or passed away. It’s not the kind of disaster that will effect us the way it will effect the people who were living there. But to Mrs. Crappy, it was an important place. It was where her family came from. It was where she celebrated Christmas for the first half of her life.

And although she actually lived there for just a short period of time, it was very much her home.

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red carpet.

horiz

“Tonight, Uncle Crappy is wearing a lively ensemble — a wrinkled shirt from Old Navy, stunning Eddie Bauer cargo pants and ravishing work boots from Target. Doesn’t he look fabulous?”

I can’t wait to hear what Kojo has to say tomorrow.

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no losers.

What we learned at tonight’s Iron Chef Point Breeze Crabcake Cookoff: Kim and I are both pretty good at this.

kimcakes1

We’re still not quite certain, but it appears I won the battle, which will get me a growler of something from East End — Black Strap, most likely — when we get around to it.

This had to be a tough one for our judges, though, because our final products were eons apart in terms of style. My cakes tend to be a bit sweet and a little spicy — tonight’s were a bit spicier than I usually intend — while the recipe that Kim nailed earlier this week was much closer to a traditional Maryland crabcake — meaty and rich with hints of Old Bay and an excellent chili powder she found at Penzeys.

cooking

I’m on record as saying I’m generally pleased with my crabcakes. But Kim’s were fantastic too, and it was great to taste two such disparate styles side by side.

My admission for the evening: I made mine incorrectly. All those freaking extra cracker crumbs were there for a reason; I’m supposed to dredge the goopy cakes in the crumbs before I chill ’em — and I kind of forgot about that step. I coated the tops of the cakes with the crumbs and hoped they would hold together if I fried that side first. That part worked OK, but I’m wondering whether that omission is what made my cakes a little spicier than usual.

done
Mine are in the foreground, Kim's in back. Both were deee-licious.

As tough as it had to be for Amy, Scott and Danielle to make a decision, I didn’t hear any complaining from anyone, although I think Kim’s son was a bit disappointed we weren’t making cupcakes instead.

Thanks to the judges and everyone else who was along for the ride. Special thanks to Kim for the use of her fabulous kitchen for the evening. That was a great night, yinz guys.

Now — anyone else want a piece of me?

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chef crappy.

A bit later today, I’ll find out whether my butt can cash a check my big mouth wrote a couple of months ago.

I’ve already taken you through the details of how Iron Chef Point Breeze came to be; today is the big day. I have two pounds of luscious jumbo lump crab meat in the fridge, and I’m in the middle of collecting everything else I need for our trip to Kim’s house later on.

I’ve mentally gone over the process a zillion times in the last couple of days. I know Kim is probably doing the same thing; judging from her Tweets, it seems like she’s hit on recipe she likes.

The esteemed panel of judges — Danielle, Scott, Will and Amy, along with spouses — all seem to be excited about this as well. I’ve seen nearly all these people in the past couple of days, and I probably should have been thinking about bribes. Ah — it’s a bit late now.

chef
In my parents' kitchen. That foofy little glass is definitely NOT mine.

I don’t have a problem cooking for a bunch of people and, as seen above — when I was preparing jambalya to be fed to about 30 people over one of our Groundhog weekends — I don’t mind cooking in front of people either. But for some reason, I’m a bit nervous about tonight. That may just be preliminary jitters, though — I’m sure once we get started, I’ll be ready to go.

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magickal.

photo

My buddy Father Spoon is celebrating his birthday this week, and in observation of that occasion, I’m going to tell him that he’s perhaps made a little mistake.

The Most Reverend One and I don’t often disagree about beer, and I trust his judgment and expertise — gained on the Should I Drink That podcast and his excellent Hump Day Happiness blog — completely. We have some different tastes, sure, but in general, if Spoon passes judgment, I’m on board.

However. A couple weeks ago, Spoon reviewed a couple of newish imperial stouts by Voodoo Brewing in Meadville on the HDH site. Here’s one thing Spoon and I agree on: brewer/owner Matt Allyn takes chances and consistently comes up with excellent results. Spoon loved Voodoo’s Big Black Voodoo Daddy, the other half of Voodoo’s imperial stout perfecta, and I haven’t yet had a chance to give that one a try.

On the other hand, Spoon had some trouble with Voodoo’s Back Magick, the heavier of the two heavyweights. The ABV is about as big as I’ve personally ever come across — 15.5 percent — and that was the problem, in his mind. I encourage you to read his entire post here, but, in part, Spoon said this:

This would have been a B+ or A- easy if it wasn’t for strong alcohol taste I kept getting. Tone it down a bit and I think it would be one of the best imperial stouts ever made.

Here’s where I disagree. At 15.5 percent, this beer probably should taste a little hot — meaning there’s no way around the alcohol — and it does. And I’ve had beers, notably Heavy Seas’ Holy Sheet, where the alcohol just blows everything else away. The alcohol in Black Magick wasn’t overwhelming for me though; Matt aged this one in bourbon barrels before its release, and it shows. A taste of this high-viscosity stuff gets you all kinds of woody, earthy bourbon mixing with what you might expect from a high-test stout like this. In short, I was amazed, and I may go pick up another bottle to see what a little aging will do to it.

The bottom line: Spoon gave it a C+. I think it’s an A.

But there’s the beauty of being a craft beer geek: Spoon isn’t wrong. There’s plenty of room for personal tastes and preferences, and two people who dig this stuff can come up with completely different, and equally valid, opinions. And while I may hassle him about this particular review if I run into him this weekend, I will also make sure to buy Father Spoon a birthday beer. We might even find a new one to talk about.

Cheers, my friend. And happy birthday week.

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summary III.

I’ve done this before. I’ll probably do it again. Sorry.

vrock

Dueling pianos?
Maybe a little cheesy
But V Rock had fun.

Papuga’s splitting
Yinz Team’s loss; Baltimore’s gain
Alert Johns Hopkins.

Old vacuum is dead
New bagless model is awesome
Eew. Look at the grunge.

Dill pickle Pringles?
Actually not too bad. But:
I want them to be green.

fish

Tuna steaks were scary
But they’re hard to screw up
Almost raw is best.

This time of the year,
It always occurs to me:
Oh. Yeah. Basketball.

Stumped for a blog post
How about bad poetry?
Sure. It’s worked before.