18 January, 2021

The Corona Diaries Vol.7: Down On the Banks of the Oconto

November 2020

Our local supermarket has started carrying more "exotic" fruits. My guess is that it's in response to a growing number of customers who are either Hispanic or of Southeast Asian descent. And so there are now Dragon fruit, persimmons, and hitherto unknown to me varieties of mango now available for our delectation. Previously we'd have to take a trek to a smaller ethnic grocery store to find such fruits. (Not that I mind doing so, mind you.)

On a recent visit I noticed that quinces are now on offer.


I bought a couple of them and proceeded to make some quince marmalade.


I made it according to an adapted 17th century recipe:

To make rough red marmelade of Quinces. Take Quinces and pare them, cut them in small peces from the coare, then take as much sugar as the peces doe waye, and put the Quinces beinge cutt into an erthen pott and put halfe the sugar that you waied into the pott and as much water as will couer them, then sett them into an ouen with howsholde breade. then when they are paked poore them into a postnett or preseruinge pan and put the rest of the sugar to it, then bruse them with the back of a spoone, then boyle them with sturringe till it will come cleane from the bottome of the pan then boxe it.

I got caught the itch for historical cooking many years ago when I attended a seminar on medieval cookery. Since then I've occasionally taken pleasure trying to cook like it's 1399. One's tastebuds are often challenged when all of the foodstuffs of the New World are absent. However, there are plenty of familiar things such as cryspes, which we know as funnel cakes. (Probably the only period food you'll find at a Renaissance Faire.) I found a recipe for frutours – fritters – that are apple slices dipped in beer batter and fried.

While most of the ingredients in medieval cooking are in everyone's kitchen, some are not. I mean, who uses verjuice (the juice of unripe grapes) these days? I had to mail order a bottle of it. Grains of Paradise were found at Milwaukee's public market. The cubebs for my medieval meatballs, pumpes, also had to be shipped in, this time from the west coast. Cubebs are Javanese peppercorns. Similar to the black pepper we enjoy everyday, it tastes a bit more sprightly, more citrusy to me.

Pumpes are beef meatballs seasoned with mace, clove, cinnamon, and saffron in addition to cubeb. They are served in an almond milk-based sauce flavored with mace and cinnamon.


It's funny to see "pumpkin spice" everywhere during the autumn because cinnamon, clove, ginger, and nutmeg were all basic spices for the medieval chef and used year-round. The basic seasoning blends – powder douce & powder fort – were based around them and often used on meats, not just sweets. I blame Starbucks.

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After I'd gotten home from my trip, someone asked if I'd seen the marker of the Sputnik 4 debris crash site while I was in Manitowoc. Alas, I had not. D'oh! While I'd heard about it previously, it slipped my mind when I was there and I never encountered any signs imploring me to go see it. The silly part is that I was only a block away from it when I was making my trek north of downtown in search of baked goods.

Next time.

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About a hundred miles northwest of Manitowoc is Mountain and that was the second destination on my vacation itinerary. A couple friends of mine from Chicagoland have a cabin just outside of town and gave me free use of it. O
n the way there I passed by a roadside shrine.


I'd never seen one outside of Portage County to the west and had always taken a different route to the cabin. I shouldn't have been surprised, however, as I was just north of a town called Pulaski and just south of a little unincorporated village named Krakow. These shrines are a Polish(-American) phenomenon and are found at crossroads. (Sometimes you'll find a cross but no shrine.) I suppose they announce you're in a Polish/Catholic area but I wonder if their placement has historical roots in the supernatural lore of crossroads.

My friends' cabin is on the bank of the north branch of the Oconto River. I know I've gone down the right driveway when I see a familiar sign.


It was a beautiful morning with some fall colors coming in.


The cabin has no electricity nor running water but no expense was spared with the dual seat outhouse.


The river was high and flowing quickly.


It was wonderful to be out in the country away from computers and cars in a spot where the loudest noise was the river flowing. No masks, no news, and the lovely outdoors instead of being ensconced upstairs at my desk in my office at home.

Across the road lies the Nicolet National Forest so I took a stroll. At one point I heard a woodpecker and tried to find it. As I was gazing upwards, an acorn fell and missed my head by about a foot. I never spotted the bird so I continued hiking down the road and found a trailhead at the end of it. So down the path I went.


The trail was about a mile long and ended at a national forest road. There was some wonderful scenery along the route with even more fall color than there was to be found by the cabin. As I wandered near a small pine stand, I could smell the coniferous goodness. The smell of the country is wonderful. Well, as long as you're not downwind of a farm.

After my little hike, I wandered back to the cabin and lit a fire. With dinner I had one of my favorite potent potables, a Schlenkerla Rauchbier.


Rauchbier = smoke beer. That is, the malt is dried with direct heat from burning beechwood so the grain is kissed by the smoke imparting guaiacol and syringol and whatever other chemicals make smoked foods taste so delicious.

The Schlenkerla brewery was established in 1405 in Bamberg, Germany where Rauchbier is the town's specialty. Back then most beer was smoke beer as I believe the use of indirect heat/use of coke instead of wood to dry malt is a 17th century invention. Bamberg is also home to another Rauchbier brewery, Spezial, but, sadly, they do not export their beer to the States. This being the case, the Frau and I are determined to visit Bamberg someday to sample their brews. Plus, the town has retained some medieval buildings so I can indulge my love of the Middle Ages while there.

I also had a bottle of Becherovka, a Czech digestiv with me. It was given to me by an uncle when he was clearing out his liquor cabinet on a recent visit. A couple swigs made a fine post-prandial treat but it was too sweet to drink a lot of. Perhaps if had been colder or diluted. Just a bit cloying for me. I left it in the cabin's liquor cabinet for future guests to indulge themselves.

I stayed at the cabin for only one night as my next stop was Stevens Point, home of a couple friends from college whom I hadn't seen in several years. As I was packing up, I heard a woodpecker nearby. I was able to find this one and even got a snap of it.


Bonus photo: some fine chainsaw totem art from Madison.



2 comments:

  1. Ha ha ha!
    Somebody bought that CTA route #53 bus stop sign. The Authority caught on (finally) that some of its indicia were valuable, and started offering items which were either the genuine item, or more probably reasonable facsimilies thereof, of Bus Stop signs.
    (My CTA routes were | are #54 Cicero / #77 Belmont.)
    Against my better interest, I inform you about this Week in Rauchbier podcast. Rauchbier is my Achilles Heel insofar as beer styles go. Many styles of beer I prefer are wounded when they are shifted to smoke-flavored brews. I have tried; but I cannot get through most of them. |={

    ReplyDelete
  2. I don't recall where the sign came from as I heard that story ages ago. I've heard of that podcast but have not listened. Thanks.

    ReplyDelete