Let the Countdown Begin

Four days remaining until Thanksgiving. Four days where I will have to organize the meal, shop for the ingredients, prepare what I can in advance, entertain guests, play host to my wife's parents, and write this frigging blog. I must be crazy, or will be by the time this is all over. On top of it all I've been procrastinating. I've got a bunch of stuff waiting to go on this site but haven't had the energy or desire to do it. I have stuff about pumpkins and pumpkin seeds, about pies and sauerkraut, and there was the Marine Expo we were supposed to attend yesterday but didn't. I came down with something in the eleventh hour and we had to cancel. I'm kind of glad in a way. It was too much driving, we weren't really in the market to buy anything, and I was afraid that the only thing I'd accomplish by touring all that gear and mixing with all those fishermen would be the aggravation of my already acute case of sea-sickness (not the pukey kind, but a deep and melancholy longing for the sea, like homesickness, only worse because it entails the loss of wages as well).

I'm not sure what happened to me. Whether this gross feeling I'm experiencing is the result of some bug I caught or simply the penalty I'm paying for being a feckless drunkard. I hardly ever get sick, especially now that the only person I see on a regular basis is my wife, so I have to say I'm a little surprised and disappointed with my body for letting me down at this critical time. I can't afford to be sick right now. On a fishing boat it wouldn't matter. I'd still be expected to go out on deck and pull my weight with the rest of the crew. I wouldn't be pitied or coddled or hovered over with hot liquids and cool towels. No naked woman would arrive bedside with a plate of nachos and a pot of tea asking me if there was anything else she could do for me (I have to admit, my wife is pretty awesome). No, I would be shamed into sucking it up. I would be miserable and feverish and doped up on every kind of cold medicine you could imagine, but I'd get the job done. I wouldn't leave deck unless I lost consciousness or died.

I remember one Opilio season I was sick for the whole first trip. I coughed so hard that I couldn't get to sleep despite my severe fatigue. We were only averaging about four or five hours of rest each day, so each time I lay down I was kind of panicked to fall asleep, I'd curse at myself, I'd grumble and fume, I guzzled packet after packet of Thera-Flu, I tried holding in my coughs, determined to use my will power to cure myself. None of it worked. I didn't sleep a wink for four straight days. Finally I just gave up. I went to the galley to do some extra prep work, cleaned up the floors and range tops. I sat in the mess area and read magazines and talked to whoever was dumb enough not to be in bed. Then on the fifth day, while I was sitting in the dark at the galley table, feverish and exhausted, sleep crept over me and I finally got some rest. When I woke up, sitting there in my sweat pants and nothing else, the Fish and Game observer, Sarah, was standing over me. Then the Chief appeared, and some of the other crew. It was time to gear up and begin again. I was bewildered and felt lost but managed somehow to follow the lead of the other guys and make my way into my gear and out on deck.

For the rest of the day I never heard the end of it. First the Chief would come up to me as I was running the hydros and insinuate something. Then later I'd see him and the deck boss giggling over by the sorting table. In the forepeak between strings they'd grill me about my relationship with the Observer. Were Sarah and I doing it? What was I doing half-naked in the mess with her? Had we violated the galley table? Did the carpet match the drapes? And didn't I know she was married?

Sarah wasn't half bad so I was kind of flattered by the idea. Even so, I tried strenuously to deny everything, explaining that I'd fallen asleep that way in a fever, but I really didn't have the energy to answer the range of accusations they'd flung at me. Besides they were having way too much fun with the idea to let me off that easy.

That night at dinner when the incident was brought up in front of our skipper they gained all the rest of the ammunition they needed when Sarah made some off handed comment about how she wished she would have had some dollar bills to throw at me that morning. That pretty much sealed the deal. I spent the rest of the trip being hounded by my crew mates, alternately being plied for details and indicted for adultery. In all honesty though the teasing kind of helped. I felt revived, less certain of immanent collapse and death. And my coughing grew less and less severe. I no longer haunted the galley at night but slept soundly in my own bunk. By the end of the trip I hardly remembered that I'd been ill at all. I wasn't allowed to forget about Sarah. Even though she'd left the boat for another assignment I was still razzed mercilessly about our imagined fling. Was I gonna miss her? How did I feel about the crew on the Aleutian Douche taking turns on her. On and on.

In retrospect I guess it shouldn't be that difficult to get through this week. Opies and family visits are both terrifying and monotonous propositions, but something I've learned about the two is that if you keep your head down and don't take things too seriously they will both be over before you know it. You may have a few bruises to show for it, both physical and mental, but all things heal over time.

That said, I need to get down to business before our company arrives. I need to get this blog back up to speed or I'll never get it done while the in-laws are here. Part of being unemployed is the assumption that you are capable and willing of playing tour guide while your wife is at work. I guess I'll manage, but truth be told I'd rather just fart around the house, drink beer and watch netflix.

Down to brass tax. I'm sure that by now most of you have already carved your pumpkins, roasted the seeds and thrown away the rotting husks. I wish I could have been there to give you my two cents worth but as I've already said I've been way too busy practicing my inertia to pull off any timely posts. Unfortunately all I can offer is a kind of retrospective.

We've all done this before so I'm sorry if this seems sort of asinine but I'm gonna just go through it step by step for the sake of my own faulty thought process.

1. Cut a hole in the top of the pumpkin. I like to use a victorinox (or vicki). It's a serrated knife commonly found on fishing boats around the world. This particular one is a favorite of crab fishermen because of it's thicker blade and tougher handle. The wimpier red handled ones are fine for some fisheries but they have a tendency to snap off, sending a sharp metal object flying through the air in a random direction. (I've seen people stabbed by these missiles, not fun.)

2. Scoop out the guts and separate the seeds. Most of this can be done with your hands but I find a spoon and a sieve are useful. Whatever you do don't fall for those gimmicky carving kits that they sell at the super market. Those things are usually shoddily put together and don't work as well as they're advertised.

3. If possible you should compost the guts and the excess meat from the pumpkin. And for that matter you should compost the pumpkin once it rots and all the other vegetable waste from your kitchen. I just read an embarrassing fact about landfill in this country. Apparently 17 percent of our garbage is made up of compostable material. That might not sound bad until you find out that in South Korea they recycle 97 percent of their food waste either as compost or as feed for livestock. Get with it America, we're getting beat by the Koreans for chrissakes!

4. Brine the seeds overnight. I don't exactly measure the salt I use in this brine so I can't give you an exact amount. I rinse the seeds once or twice, then fill the bowl with water enough to cover (the seeds actually float so don't go overboard with the water). Then I pour salt in to the tune of about one and a half tablespoons. Mix up the concoction then let sit covered (a plate works great) for 12 to 48 hours. One day is optimum but if you're in a rush to have seeds 12 hours will do fine, or if you're just forgetful or preoccupied you can leave them for two, sometimes three days with out any ill effects.

5. Drain seeds in sieve. Coat with oil and sprinkle with salt. Spread the seeds on a ungreased cookie sheet and bake at 400 degrees for about 20 minutes or until golden brown. I usually set the timer for ten to twelve minutes, take the seeds our and mix them around before baking them for the rest of the time. This helps to keep them from burning near the edge of the pan. I also went a little crazy this year and tried spicing the seeds in different ways. I tried a rosemary thyme and garlic recipe and one with chili powder and cumin. I liked the latter a lot better. I also had an idea for teriyaki ginger seeds but I didn't get around to that one. We ran out of seeds.

While we're kind of on the subject of brining let me just quickly describe the process of making sauerkraut. I know that sauerkraut is not the first thing that comes to mind when we think Thanksgiving, but it is a part of our traditional New Year's Day meal (Pork roast, potato dumplings and sauerkraut, which should be cooked with a liberty dime if you have one. Be careful not to eat the dime) so it's high time you got it going or it will never be ready in time.

1. First thing you'll need is a bucket. I'm sure you fishermen out there will be tempted to use one of those blue five gallon oil buckets that are constantly overrunning your engine room and forepeak but I'd try to resist this temptation. You want something food grade for this experiment. You can use a pot too, but it's recommended that you use something with a ceramic coating or stainless steel. Never use Aluminum. It tends to make the brine murky and unappetizing.

2. The rest of the process is pretty simple. Surprisingly simple in fact. Get yourself about three to four large heads of cabbage. Quarter and cut out the core. Your knife is going to have to be pretty sharp for the rest of this so make sure you keep your steel handy, and be prepared to have a little bit of a sore wrist. I liken the shredding of the cabbage to cutting bait. It's tedious and has to be somewhat exact and by the end of it you're suffering from a slight case of tendinitis. If you're lucky enough to have a food processor (or a bait chopper)you can use that, but don't turn it into coleslaw. We're looking for long thin shreds here not confetti.

3. For about twenty pounds of cabbage you'll need approximately 3/4 cups pickling salt. I used Morton's coarse Kosher salt. It's good for just about anything, including Passover. As you shred your cabbage you're going to want to toss about a head and a half with a quarter cup salt. Make sure you get it nice and mixed in before you put it in the bucket. Once it's in the bucket use the palm of your hand and smash it down a little. Don't get crazy though, you don't want to totally mash the fibers in the cabbage. Firm but gentle is a standard rule with cooking, unless of course you're beating the hell out of a tough piece of meat.

4. Once you've got it all shredded, salted and pressed down there should be a layer of brine water formed on the cabbage. This water will help keep contaminants out of your kraut as it cures. To keep this layer of liquid above your cabbage you should put a plate snuggly down on top of it, and place a jar filled with water on top of that.

5. This concoction is going to be with you for the next five weeks so it's important to find someplace warm to put it where it won't be in the way or in any danger of being spilled. I put a towel over top of mine and secured that with a piece of line. You could use a bungee cord, electrical tape, whatever, just don't put the lid back on the bucket. The kraut has to breath. And it has to be at a temperature of 64-70 degrees. I'm storing mine in the laundry room next to the heater and water heater. This is where my bottled homebrew lives. It's warm and out of the way. Just be sure not to let any lint get into your kraut. That would be gross and devastating. No way to bring in the New Year.

6. A quick note on caraway seeds. I like my kraut with caraway but I am uncertain when to put them into the mixture. I've decided to let the kraut cure first and then to add them when I cook it and can it. More on that later.

Last of all I want to talk about pumpkins again. I kind of got real fancy with my pumpkin design this year because one, I don't get to carve too often because I'm usually fishing, two because I figured it would be a good way to promote my new blog during the holidays, and last but not least because I was pretty bored and a little drunk. Here's what I did.

1. Once it was all hollowed out and the seeds were taken care of I drew a design on the face of it. I tried to use some of the features of the pumpkin in the placement. Like I used this dimple on the right for the eye of my sea monster. I wanted to try and get the whole thing on to one side but as The Deadliest Chef is kind of long it sort of wrapped around. The turkey was kind of an after thought. Just goes to show you how much I'd been procrastinating. Thanksgiving was only two and a half weeks away when I did this.

2. Using some rudimentary carving tools left over from the days when I was an art student I went to work on the hull and carved my design in full relief. This took some time and a lot of patience but luckily I had plenty of beer and loud music to keep me going. For starters I traced all the lines with a flat blade. Then I took the skinnier of the two lathes and went around all the designs. Once that was done I took the thicker one and shaved off all the excess skin.

This was my result. Unfortunately the whole design couldn't be photographed at once but I can assure you it's all there.

I want to close by adding a short follow up to my last piece on Better Homes and Gardens. I don't know if you noticed but they had a lot of suggestions on how to use pumpkins for your holiday decorations but very few suggestions on what to do with those pumpkins once they went south. I'd like to leave you with a few ideas. First of all you should compost your pumpkin. This is pretty easy. Throw it in the bin and whack it with a hoe a couple dozen times till it's good and chopped up. If you're feeling especially destructive you can liven up this composting process by dropping your pumpkin off your deck and watching it splat. It's kind of messy but you can easily shovel it from there into the compost bin. A sledge hammer is also a fun way of mashing it in preparation for composting. If you've ever watched Gallagher you know what I'm talking about. If you're sort of a pyro you can always blow up your pumpkin with an M-80 or some other illegal firework but I don't recommend this because it makes a hell of a mess and it leaves powder burns which could adversely effect your compost. Personally, I kind of toyed with the idea of shooting my pumpkin.

But I thought, what with the city ordinances and the possible damage to the deck, that it would be better just to drop it onto the pavement below. Maybe next year I'll take my pumpkin out into the woods and retire it properly.

Ok, I've just gotten word that the inlaws are coming round the mountain. I've gotta go. If I don't get anything up before Thanksgiving I'd like to wish you and yours the very best. Good Luck and have a safe trip.