weekend update sept30

"A foraging wild creature, intent above all upon survival, is as strong as the grass."

Richard Adams 

And as anyone who's ever dreamed of a weed free lawn can attest, there are some forms of grass

that are very strong indeed.

 Foraging, and other pastimes of the ancient hunter-gatherers, has been popping up on the continuous internal feed of things to be curious about since early summer, when this popped up on my facebook feed:

Paleo lemon meringue pie. 

The existence of a thing called both paleo and pie revealed a large dessert shaped hole in my education. Paleolithics? I thought they were this:

These guys had time to whip up a meringue?

Really, if I'd known they had pie, I'd have paid much closer attention in history class. Or geography. Or biology. Um, what class was it exactly that covered paleolithic man? 

cause, I'm pretty sure it wasn't home ec.

Fortunately, the grownups otherwise known as my children are people who know more things than I do and are unfailingly generous with their knowledge and insight. For this bit of clarification, I went to my eldest, because:

A. He's an archaeologist. 

B. He's a part of an institution of higher learning that researches real paleodiets

and

C. he did a significant bit of hunting and gathering at his Nana's rural home last week. By which I mean that he left her house with a pork loin and a couple of fowl that had been in possession of the usual assortment of hooves and wings until the day before he left.

Here's what I learned when I asked him about foraging and foragers- just so you'll know it's him, I'll use an academic-type font called trebuchet. (He's the sort of academic who admires a good trebuchet.)

Here he is, giving a lift to a very old rock. Academically.

"The term "foraging" is typically used to describe a subsistence lifestyle tailored by indigenous band level communities (30-50 individuals) that mobilize, follow, hunt and gather different kinds of seasonal foods as they become available and decline over the course of a year." 

And, his personal thoughts on modern foraging:
 "I often switch to a foraging strategy when monetary situations get a little tight.  Foraging comes in to play in this way as I seek new resources as they become available. Hunting and gathering just takes an ability to let go of a few small social stigmas like putting some thought into the logistics of finding food, eating discarded fresh/sealed food, killing your own food and eating something that you just saw die.  On the simple side of household foraging, look around and take stock of what you have at your disposal and consider what you can make of it."  

I have not confirmed this, but I'm pretty sure that
when he's taking stock of what's at his disposal,
this is not the disposal he means.

As it turns out, "paleo diet" as it's commonly used has very little to do with modern foraging movements or urban hunter-gatherers.  It's a low carb, low processed food way of eating and cooking. I'll be using low-on-the-food-chain type paleo-friendly recipes next week; for the past week, our dinners were inspired by the haul that was hunter-gathered in East Texas.

We tried two slow cooker meals from Civilized Caveman this week, and I had high hopes for both of them, since this site's recipe for slow cooked pulled pork was such a hit.
Both of this week's recipes, the Apple Rosemary pork tenderloin and the bbq crockpot chicken were...okay.
They would've been great, but the end of cooking time, both the chicken and the pork were stewing and swimming in enough broth for a soup pot, even though I added less than half a cup of liquid at the start of cooking time. 
look:

See the imploded apples?
and the pot full iciof pork juice?
Why does that happen?
(This is not a rhetorical question. If you know the answer, please share.)

The thing is, if the crock pot is full of liquid, it means that moisture and goodness is no longer inside the meat. What ends up on the plate is a dry slice of animal protein that's been bubbling for hours in it's own juices. Here it is on the plate:

I disguised the arid dryness of the meat with an impromptu
imploded apple gravy. As you can see, the Brussel sprouts
weren't all that pretty either. But they did taste good.

A shift in the week's schedule booted the shredded pork enchiladas and the ramen pad thai
Monday and Tuesday, so I can't tell you whether the pork made better leftovers than first overs.
 I can tell you that chicken shepherd's pie is a fantastic way to use leftover chicken. The end result of a shepherd's pie is rarely photogenic, though that's not the reason I didn't take a picture. It was just so yummy looking and smelled so good that we dug in before I remembered to find my camera. The next time you have leftover chicken, give it a try.
And I really will help you devise all sorts of cutting retorts to anyone who sneers at you should you choose to use instant mashed potatoes in a recipe that's supposed to be all about ease and speed.

Those of you who collect arcane bits of historical trivia (or who read Writer's Almanac) know that one week and 207 years ago, Lewis and Clark returned to Saint Louis after years of exploring their way to the Pacific and back again.
I thought of them, as I read Danny's further thoughts on what it means to be a modern forager: 

Foraging lets you feel like an explorer...
either in your own kitchen, your yard, your town or your planet. 
 Your kitchen is your world- make the best of what you have at hand.
 A little ingenuity and a sense of culinary adventure will give you a sense of confidence that food is there to be had...and enjoyed. 

And that's what I hope for you this week-
I hope every time you find a way to turn
what you have
into what you need,
that you feel the confidence of a conqueror.
I hope whether you're exploring
your pantry, your office, or the peaks and valleys
of your own soul,
that you know yourself to be
as strong and flexible, 
as determined and resilient and beautiful

as a blade of grass.