Christmas Writings

Yes, I know it is early for Christmas since Halloween and Thanksgiving aren't even here yet, but this was an inspired piece. It was prompted by a submission for a writing group on Facebook which my wife had asked me to preview. It got me off of my can and writing for the first time in months, so I don't think I'll question the urges too much tonight. It was written as a piece of flash fiction to be submitted to a free anthology; I can only hope it will meet the editors' standards.
-------------------------------------------------

The Christmas Gift
Fiction
By Ryan B.
eBook: Yes
Dedicated to my wife, without whom I wouldn't have a reason to write!

The television was awash with pictures of snowy forests, gaily lit houses, roaring fire places, and everything else that could possibly turn Thomas’ stomach. He was certain that if he bothered to watch it any further he might see a happy family unwrapping presents between the various television advertisements for department stores and specialty shops.

     “You want another?” Christy asked from across the bar. She was leaning against the liquor shelf with a cigarette in her mouth, watching the rain blat away against the painted windows of her corner bar.

     “Yeah, why the hell not?” Thomas answered, as he leaned back on his stool and fished in his jacket pocket for his own pack of smokes.

     “I warned you once already tonight, Thom,” Christy chided sternly from behind the taps as she pulled a fresh mug of light beer for him. “You ain’t allowed to swear in here any more than I am, dammit.” She grinned as she slid the octagonal mug across the bar mat to him, and grabbed a foil packet of peanuts from behind the bar.

     “I didn’t order that crap,” Thomas groused as he watched her open the package of Beer Nuts and dump it into a shallow bowl.

     “Merry Christmas from one schlub to another,” Christy offered as she shoved the plastic container to her friend.

     “Now you’ve wounded me!” Thomas exclaimed with false modesty. He was unrepentant about accepting her gift, though, and crammed a handful of peanuts into his mouth before raising his glass in a mock toast. “To Jesus! May he envy that which you charge me a buck for!”

     “Hear, hear!” bellowed a voice from the doorway. The reply caught Thomas off his guard, and he nearly spilled his mug in his lap before he recovered and turned to face the intrusion on his quiet night nearly alone.

     “Eddy!” Christy exclaimed with genuine surprise, her matted, greying hair bouncing as she whipped her head towards the newcomer. “I thought you was gonna be in Cali with your wife?”

     “I was,” the grizzled man in threadbare denim and leather answered as he leaned over the elbow of the bar and delt a soft kiss to the bartender’s cheek. “Problem is, they ain’t my family and I’ve been disinvited. Pretty sure there’s a divorce in the works.” He sat down, his soggy boots squishing as he planted his feet on the rails down below.

     “What for?” Thomas asked, glad of the diversion from the achingly sappy Christmas special on the television. The bar was devoid of customers, save himself and his off-and-on drinking pal.

     “She says I drink too much,” Eddy replied as he received his customary boiler maker and an extra shot. Looking up from under his driving cap, he grimaced. “I didn’t ask for this, Christy.”

     “T’is the Season,” she offered, as she stubbed her ultra-light cigarette in the ash tray she and Thomas had been sharing. “Sorry for your loss, bud.”

     “No matter,” Eddy said, slapping a pair of worn bank notes down on the battered wood of the bar. “Tommy here-“

     “Don’t call me that!” Thomas replied, as per their ritual.

     “Tommy here,” Eddy resumed without missing a beat, “He and I are gonna have a few drinks and keep you in business, and for once, you’re going to join us. Call it a real Christmas present.”

     Christy stared at the pair of ten dollar bills on her counter, and then shrugged before fishing her pack of cigarettes out of her stained apron. Both men watched her apprehensively; they had seen her eject life-long patrons for less, and Thomas suspected that Eddy was just as unhappy with the idea of having to leave the warm bar as he was.

     “Oh, what the hell,” Christy said, as she grabbed a mug from the hidden shelves below the bar and went to the taps. “Call it a present to a dear friend.”

I'm Just the Curry-ier, Ma'am.

It finally turned cold here in central Texas last week, and even then it's short lived - we'll be in the middle sixties by the end of the week. Being from a more northerly clime, I greatly enjoy these bursts of cold (sometimes foul) weather more than some of my neighbors (okay, most of them).


Due to the cold weather last night and an overabundance of desire to do so, I made more curry today. Most of the days between blog posts are taken up with other foods - misoni pork, oden and other nimono, the odd pizza or bowl of ramen - but this felt like it was going to be a curry day. I'm assuming it was on my mind because of both the cold weather and this video the Wife sent me last week. We had discussed making some changes to our home curry recipe, a la JMSDF ships and their post WWII traditions.


Just like everyone's grandma's way of making pot roast or mama's spaghetti sauce secrets, every ship's cook in the JMSDF has a specific way in which they make curry sauce. Curry sauce (as I explained briefly before) was introduced by the British in the late 1800s, then morphed over the course of time to become so popular that it's now considered a national dish. In the early parts of the 1900s, the IJN began a practice that would become a weekly tradition. Ships would have lots of scraps of vegetables and meat saved up from cooking during the week, and various other things that needed some use: tomato sauce, worchestershire sauce, bread crumbs, you name it it was possibly in the galley. Cooks would make curry rice based upon these leftovers and sundry herbs and spices, all made in a thick lard-and-flour-based gravy.


After WWII, the dish continued to skyrocket in popularity to the point where in the 1960s when viable 'roux blocks' of curry began to be sold in supermarkets. Suddenly, you didn't have to spend hours mixing your own sauce and tending the stove twice (or three times if you still used a traditional rice pot) in order to make what was really a simple dish, if you even knew how to make it.


So I did some of my prep last night by chopping up some veggies and mixing my dry spices and flour. Instead of my usual mix of straight curry powder and flour, I went with curry powder, garam masala and flour. This morning, I made some quick beef stock (I have got to get rid of this free instant broth somehow), made my roux block, and  sautéd the vegetables and beef in butter before the usual steps of adding and boiling the beef stock, then adding the roe and letting it start to thicken.


This is where things took their second different turn: I added about five tablespoons of Bulldog chuno sauce, three tablespoons of honey and half of an apple's worth of apple puré  (made directly over the pot with an oroshigane. After simmering for about forty-five minutes, it was ready to eat.


Super spicy by Japanese standards, yet sweet and a little lighter than usual, it tastes like I'd imagine a combination of Java-brand super hot curry would if you mixed it with House-brand Vermont curry. Next time, I think I'll put some puréd tomatoes and maybe a little less garam masala in. Eventually, we'll find a mix that is specifically our home version. When that day comes, I'm not going to share it openly!


Final Ingredients:
5 cups beef stock
1/2 cup lard
2 Tbs butter
5 Tbs S&B Curry Powder
1 Tbs Garam Masala
5 Tbs Bulldog Chuno Sauce
3 Tbs Honey
4 Tbs Unsweetened Applesauce
2/3 Onion, finely chopped
1 1/2 Carrot, finely chopped
1 lb Beef Stew Meat, fine cut

Sons of Oden

With thanks to Manowar for the post title!

Tonight the weather here in Central Texas is a blustery, dry pre-winter cold that causes me to miss the northern climes (and real seasons for that matter) every year. Things are decidedly looking up, however, because I made oden tonight!

Oden is a staple of Japanese cuisine, especially in the cooler climates at the cooler months. The basics of it are that a family puts a bunch of related ingredients in a donabe and simmers them until they've mellowed and combined their flavors. Some of the most stereotypical things to include are easily available in small frozen trays in Japanese convenience stores and grocers. Heck, according to the internet, there are even canned single servings available from vending machines in major cities!

The wife and I purchased our smallish package of basic ingredients for about $3 US. Very straightforward, it has the time-consuming elements already contained within - fried goodies and a concentrated packet of "oden dashi (the soup base it simmers in). Following the instructions, I soaked my sand pot in some water for a bit first, then brought 800 ml of water to a simmer before adding all the ingredients. The package (made by Shirakiku) contained two of each of the major types of surimi based things and some good sized ganmodoki. I added some slivers of young bamboo shoots, several rounds cut from a daikon, two eggs, and a third of a block of sliced konnyaku to the pot.

To round it out, my serving included about a half a teaspoon of karashi, or hot "Chinese" mustard, and both the wife and I enjoyed Asahi "Super Dry" beer with our dinner.

It was immensely enjoyable! My favorite part had to be the gobomaki (burdock root rolled and cooked in fish paste), although the ganmodoki had to be a close second. I think that the next time I make this I'll be adding a lot more ingredients, and soon we'll find a combination that is exclusively our household's!