HAPPY THANKSGIVIN'! It has happened. For the first time in the history of our cook-off, a chicken chili has won the grand prize! Thanks to Emily Nichols for submitting her tasty recipe in a beautiful ceramic crock from Festive Living (shameless plug). (hint: throw a party and keep leftovers… I still have chili in my fridge and will more than likely freeze it…) I wish him the best of luck. (And what do we call those from Driggs? Driggsonians? Driggsites?) ON THE HOMEFRONT All of this may have been updated earlier had it not been for the distraction of our recent move (to my three readers: isn’t that funny how I always find an excuse as to why I don’t update my blog more readily? Procrastination: the sweet companion of a writer.). This of course was a result of our basic financial ruin. I have a slight smile when I say that, so don’t worry. “Financial ruin” is just my purposefully dramatic way of saying “fuck it”. For the kids out there, pardon the liberal use of this favorite word of mine. But you know what? I mean it. Not only have did I not shed a tear on moving day – I actually feel a spring in my step after having vacated the premises of our soon-to-be-foreclosed-on residence. To be a renter again means not being a homeowner, and being a homeowner for both me and my husband has caused a lot of grief. The worm has turned yet again. Boxes abound, both sealed and opened, as we randomly choose what to unpack and what can wait. I struggle with my list of people to alert. You know, when you change your address, everyone must know. Insurance. The Bank. Relatives. Friends. It is all necessary. Right now, I am tired, though. I am tired of thinking about all of it. I want to pull a Bewitched and have it all magically accomplished. As I type this, I am supposed to be finishing the bedroom – a mess of boxes, clothes and toiletry items (bathroom just off the master) – and yet I elect to sit here (procrastination: the last refuge of the uninterested housekeeper). UPCOMING EVENTS It is a little late in the season, but we are still committed to the social event of the fall: the Rein Chili Cook-Off. Last year, I had twelve chili-makin’ entrants. The first year, we had six. I wonder what year three will bring. I can’t help but be curious about who will ante up. My panel of judges has been selected, and I am also encouraged by the fact that we don’t live in BFE any longer. If we are simply in Driggs and easily accessible, will we have fifteen batches of chili? It’s anyone’s guess. Whoever shows, we will have a blast, so I am not in the least bit concerned (except for the power strips we need – where are they? What box were those stashed in? Oh shit – I need some tables. Maybe I should call the Teton Arts Council…). Beyond the chili cook-off, we have Thanksgiving plans with friends of ours and also a commitment to trying to get to Omaha during the last week of December. Fingers crossed that the trip works out. I am a little daunted, but counting on those studded tires. THE HERD MENTALITY TRAILING OF THE SHEEP FESTIVAL Surrounded by brown foothills topped in snow and outlying peaks sits Sun Valley, a place long acknowledged as the “moneyed” ski hamlet of Idaho. To the ignorant outsider, such as me, thoughts of livestock are not generally associated with the tony vacation homes that surround the towns of Ketchum and Hailey. Instead, visions of Hemingway swarm my general conscience, along with images of Old Hollywood traversing the slopes. I do not think of sheep. How ignorant I was when traveling to the Ketchum-Hailey area over this past weekend in order to experience the 12th Annual Trailing of the Sheep Festival. Did I know going in of the deep history of sheep ranching that defined this area? Not in the least. Was I a big fan of mutton? I wasn’t sure. All that I knew was this: by Sunday, I would have had a chance to observe the herding of fifteen hundred head of sheep down Main Street in Ketchum, Idaho. Now that is the kind of thing I can get behind. We arrived on Friday, prepared to get down to business with a gallery walk that would provide lamb-themed appetizers. The Friesen Gallery partnered with the restaurant Vintage and served a lamb meatball, part of a lamb shank and pieces of rack of lamb. All of these samples reminded me suddenly that yes, I had eaten lamb before. The taste is unmistakable. “Gamey” is not the word. Lamb possesses a distinctly pungent twinge to its make-up of flavors that, if cooked incorrectly, could turn out to be a disaster for both diner and chef. Let’s face it. Lamb is the stinky cheese of herd animal meat. Vintage did a fine job with what they offered, and I was encouraged. Sheep by-products were present in abundance. Knitted apparel, yarn, bolts of felt, rugs, organic meat and the like were featured. I bought a wedge of Manchego cheese, my only regret being that I did not have a bottle of my favorite Spanish wine on hand to pair it with. I watched a sheep get sheared. I got to see wool being spun into yarn on a genuine spinning wheel that brought to mind Rumpelstiltskin. It was humbling to realize how versatile an animal the sheep really is. Aside from tasting yummy, a sheep’s coat is used to keep us humans warm. Lanolin, a secretion that comes from all wool-bearing animals, is used as a base in things from cosmetics to diaper rash ointment. From what I can tell, sheep have lent a heavy hoof to our own comfort, and holding a festival to celebrate this wondrous resource now made complete sense to me. I happily bought a lamb sandwich and a wool hat and moved on to watch the sheep dog trials. After a delightful evening spent roaming in and out of Ketchum restaurants – great calamari at The Cellar Pub and a scrumptious martini at The Roosevelt stood out – I arose on Sunday to the excitement of knowing that I would soon bear witness to the event that I had been waiting for. The Trailing of the Sheep Festival parade started at noon in Ketchum. We killed time eating breakfast at Java and then shopping. On my mind were sheep. I peer down Main Street a final time in anticipation. There they are. Fifteen hundred head of sheep trotting toward us and through the stoplight at Main and Sun Valley Road. In their moving midst, a priest with a staff walks among them. He blesses the flock. The sheep pass by. They are unaware of their value to those that look on. I realize then that it has been my privilege to understand the circle that surrounds sheep ranching in Idaho: the working dogs, the sheepherders from around the world, the wool artisans, and the many hands that are involved in utilizing this resource to its full potential. I will return, and when I do, I will eat more mutton.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Rein Chili Cook-Off Update
read about last year's cook-off
Did I take enough photos? No.
Did I even get Emily with her medal? No.
I am a terrible staff photographer, what can I say.
Although there seemed to be around 25 people in our house, the field of chili entries was very narrow. We only had four competing. It really did turn out a-okay. Everyone got to taste the delicious submissions and everyone got puh-lenty of cornbread. I think that next year, I am going to open a ballot box for cornbread. Seriously. We had at least four batches of the stuff. The thing that stood out for me the most, however, were the cheese grits brought by that smarmy editor of the Valley Citizen – Hope Strong.
Here’s the thing: I hate grits. I first tasted grits at an IHOP in Alabama (or was it a Denny’s? No matter…) when I was around 14 years old. Disgusting. After that, I did try a couple more times. There was that time when I was in Columbia, South Carolina. Gross. I tried them once when I was in Tennessee. Simply nauseating.
Lo and behold, I was at a party over the summer months and noticed the Hope Strong Cheese Grits. Hope hails from Winter Park, Florida. This is not what I consider the Deep South. It’s not like he’s from Savannah, Georgia or anything. But I believe that his family must have true Southern roots elsewhere, for this recipe of grits has turned the tide for me. At that first party when I tasted them, I was astonished to find that they were yummy. I begged him to bring the grits to the chili cook-off. It turns out that this dish is Hopes “go to” concoction for any and all potluck occasions. The best part? There were some leftovers, and I ate cheese grits for at least two more days after the event. Bonus!
this is my chili... beautiful, no?
Teton Valley News Item
Now hear this: the Spud Drive-In has been purchased by a part-time resident. You can read all about it at the Valley Citizen website. As a lover of film, I was completely taken by the fact that our little mountain valley boasts a drive-in movie theater. When I first moved here, it was a bragging point to all family members and friends.
Truly, the Spud is an icon of the valley and I am so relieved that it will stay open under new ownership and continue to be one of the coolest things about living here. Yeah, yeah, people talk about the skiing, the fly fishing, the white water rafting, the hiking and all of that outdoors stuff…. But residents know – the Spud takes the cake.
(well, all of that other stuff is pretty cool too)
What About Turkey Day?
Yes, what about it? Since moving here, we have had the pleasure of hosting Thanksgiving for a large crowd twice. I love cooking for people, and also trying new things and putting it on a festive holiday table. Last time I made a turkey for this occasion, I wrapped it in bacon (droooool).
My girlfriend Cheryl is hosting at her house and will “bring it” with turkey and all the trimmings. For my part, I will be bringing a ham. Why ham on Thanksgiving, you ask? Well, it’s a Tim fave and I like to make him happy. Not only that – the recipe looks aMAzing. Here is the link to what I will be attempting in the kitchen today:
http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/alton-brown/city-ham-recipe/index.html
Wish me luck!
Faraway Friend Rocks at the Mall of America
About two years ago, I suggested to a buddy in Minnesota that she must try this recipe:
http://thepioneerwoman.com/cooking/2008/06/crash-hot-potatoes/
After sending her the link, the poor girl was hooked on the entire website. And who wouldn’t be? Ree Drummond, aka, The Pioneer Woman, has it in spades: talent, humor and wit. I love reading her site as well – and although I am not a daily devotee, I do check out her cooking regularly to see if I want to try anything from her kitchen.
Well, good ol’ Elleyce, my Pioneer Woman addicted friend, sent me a text during the chili cook-off last Saturday: “been in line for four hours waiting to get book signed by Pioneer Woman”. ARGH! Sometimes I curse myself for living in such a remote place. All Elleyce had to do was to jump in the car and drive to the Mall of America with her buddies. From Red Wing, where she lives, it is not too daunting. If I wanted to wait in a line for Ms. Drummond, first I would have to drive five hours to the nearest book signing in Salt Lake City (which happened in early November) – and then wait in line for five hours.
No matter. What occurred when my friend finally got to the table was simply awesome. Pioneer Woman’s husband, affectionately referred to as Marlboro Man, took at photo of the gang. And which photo landed on PW’s website as a depiction of her experience in Minneapolis? You guessed it! All of this came from Elleyce making Crash Hot Potatoes. You should try them too!
Rein Writings
Finally, the latest edition of Teton Valley Magazine has been released to the general public. The publishers gave me a great opportunity to interview two valley residents for this new copy. I had a terrific time speaking with 90+ year old Oren Furniss and also with Jerry Kaufman, owner of OK Tire. I felt really lucky to get the assignments and super proud, as always, to see my work in print.
NEWS UPDATE
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
POLITICS
On Election Day, our valley made a statement about change. In Victor, Scott Fitzergerald held the post that he had been helming due to the prior Mayor’s resignation. Victor residents voted that they liked the changes he had already made. I have to tell you: during the brief time he has been in office, those changes have been many. His opponent was a self-proclaimed “horse whisperer” that wanted Victor to be “Mayberry again.” As Victorites (I just made that up I have no idea what they call themselves – and maybe they do call themselves that and I just happen to get it right) made a statement about embracing continuing and ongoing change, those in Driggs opened the door to it. Lou Christianson will vacate his post as the mayor of Driggs after 12 years of service.
I missed the boat on voting. I have to be honest with you – I would have voted for Lou. I’ve only been here for just over three years, and from what I know about the guy – and from my interactions with him – I had absolutely no problem casting a ballot in his direction. On the flip side of the coin, I think that change during these tough times is not a bad thing. Dan Powers will now perform as mayor. He needs support from his constituents and he needs brass balls. Driggs, as the center of the valley, is in flux. During the boom, this valley’s economy soared from a platform of second homeowners, realtors, land barons, developers, contractors, designers, small business owners and tourists.
As we move forward from the disaster that resulted from that bubble bursting and try to get back on our collective feet, it’s time to start asking the question: what now? The potential of Teton Valley as a viable resort town that has legs similar to Jackson Hole has changed. We still have potential, but witnessing the fruition of the growth that will allow us to “keep up” with that potential has slowed significantly. The newly elected County Commissioners from our last round of picks have already had to make hard choices in the name of that slow down. And now, Mr. Powers will get to join in the fun. As a city councilman for Driggs, he has been there to observe what has been demanded of this community and its citizenry.
Spoonfed on the Road
Friday, October 16, 2009
KETCHUM-HAILEY, IDAHO
OCTOBER 9 – 11, 2009
SEE MORE PHOTOS OF THE FESTIVAL AT THE
TETON CHRONICLES FLICKR ACCOUNT!
Arriving at Kneeland Gallery gave us an opportunity to soak in some engrossing landscapes and sample food from Rickshaw, a restaurant that promotes its fare as “ethnic street food”. I soon forgot about the art after I ingested a mint lamb bun with chili oil. This thick toddler fist sized dumpling was weighted down on the inside by a layer of ground lamb treated with an Asian fusion approach. Impressed and having lost control of all social convention, I ate two of them. I then realized that one of the gallery employees was giving me the eye, so I had to beat feet still chewing my second helping.
I was relieved after having dipped my toe into the promise of what lie ahead: sheep oriented events and puh-lenty of them.
On Saturday, festival goers converged on Hailey for a little multi-cultural shindig dubbed the Sheep Folklife Fair in Hailey. This newcomer was intrigued to learn that the Basque had arrived in this area from Northern Spain on their way to the Gold Rush and stayed to participate in the many tasks that comprise the trade of sheep ranching. From South America came the Peruvians; from Great Britain came the Scots; and shepherds from Poland arrived as well. Each of these cultures was represented at the festival in Hailey with the exhibitions of both music and dancing in traditional costume. It was a feast for the eyes.
SEE MORE PHOTOS OF THE FESTIVAL AT THE
TETON CHRONICLES FLICKR ACCOUNT!
Arriving in high spirits, our party was greeted by none other than Sandy Mason and his wife Mary. These two Teton Valley residents were experiencing everything sheep for the first time, and were having a ball at it. Sandy had spent his entire time at the dog thing before our arrival questioning a well educated onlooker about the canine competition. We listened with rapt attention to his explanation of how the dogs earn points on the field. We started to get glares from others due to our laughter punctuated discussion.
Let me explain: the sport of sheep dog trials is a focused endeavor that requires nothing but restraint on the part of the crowd that observes. It is not unlike golf in this regard. When a dog earns a point, there is a lot of polite clapping. There is an announcer describing all of the action in a hushed, only slightly animated voice. No, I am not kidding. “And now we are witnessing ‘the lift’. Don’t forget folks, the lift is when the dog approaches the group of sheep and makes an introduction. The lift defines how the sheep will respond to the dog…” and on, and on. All I could think about was my yellow lab Lucy. She couldn’t perform a lift if her life depended on it. She would approach those sheep at high speed barking like a maniac the whole time, wondering which one of them was hiding a ball from her.
I thought of what I didn’t know when I arrived only two days ago. I didn’t know that by 1918, the sheep population in Idaho had reached 2.65 million. During this time, Ketchum was second only to Sydney, Australia as a major sheep hub. I didn’t know that only fifteen percent of sheep are bred for their meat – that sheep are primarily used for the precious coat that they wear to make innumerable products that make our lives easier.
At noon, a procession of cultural dramatics lazed before us. First, representatives of the Basque region in Spain play their instruments while dancers follow. There, the Peruvian dancers swirl their skirts about with beaming smiles. Now, the Polish Highlanders put on a show for the crowd, singing and passing about a glass bottle of yellowish liquid. A little hair of the dog, if you will. Finally, the bagpipers arrive in all of their kilted glory and rock the house with Mary Had a Little Lamb, and Ba Ba Black Sheep.
Click here to see more photos at the Teton Chronicles Flickr account!
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