Pigeony Goodness

Monday, November 30, 2009

-Pigeons: carrying your messages and your meal all in one feathered package.-

Pigeons aren't exactly what we would call haute cuisine in the United States. For the most part they're seen as dirty animals. Rats with wings. They carry disease and spread plague. Which is odd because I can't say I can name a single disease carried by pigeons (maybe bird flu, but that we can't place that burden solely on the shoulders of pigeons). I can't recall any great health disaster that was due to pigeons, unlike say the fleas and rats who were the initial carriers of the Black Death or mosquitoes and their ubiquitous association with malaria.

It seems then that pigeons have gotten a bad rap in the food world amongst Anglo America. They're a pariah. A guest most unwelcome to dinner either as a guest or the main course.

Yet for the most part, many of us have happily eaten it anyways. Ah, the power of nomenclature. It's far easier to sell Patagonian Toothfish as Chilean Sea Bass as it doesn't have that barbaric image recalling ideas of gnarly fishes with awful spines and slimy flesh. A bottom feeder of the like that would butcher you in the water given a aluminum bat and half the chance. Chinese gooseberries sound foreign and odd, like that aunt no one ever wants to talk about. Repackage those bastards as kiwis - much cuter! Far more profitable as well!

I speak, of course, of squab, the more pleasant name for pigeon.

Then there is the case of doves. Doves, hierarchically and scientifically categorically speaking, are only a stones throw away from pigeons. They're in the same family, Columbidae. If you're talking about one then you're most certainly talking about the other.

If pigeons are dirty it's more likely due to the gross amount of human food and refuse they ingest than anything else. Who would want to eat anything raised on tossed bits of cheese puffs, Wonder bread, and strewn bits of Cheerios that failed to make it into a toddler's mouth?

Assuming we look at wild pigeons and doves then we can see their main diet consists of a variety of seeds and fruits. The perfect diet of a creature whom you would like to eat. This equals dark and tasty meat that, when stuffed with citrus and grapes and tossed over a grill (see, Hank, I pay attention) can equal some of the most delightful tasting bird you've ever tasted. Gamey, sprightly, and a bit woodsy in flavor.

Furthermore, it's more and more common for people to begin keeping them in roosts for food even within major cities. Uncommon are the days where city chickens, ducks, and geese were a novelty. Urban farming and bird raising for the purpose of eggs and meat has become a regular scene. It only makes sense that pigeons be as well.

And why not? Rock Pigeons, Wood Pigeons, turtledoves, and white doves are all now commonly kept in roosts by all sorts of families within the United States, though mostly by immigrant groups. In fact, the Passenger Pigeon is extinct in North America due to it's being hunted out for its tasty breasts by white settlers, so Anglo Americans have a history of eating pigeon meat.

Aside from these reasons there are plenty of religious ones to feast on these tasty turtledoves. According to the Tanakh, doves and pigeons are totally kosher (and perfect when rubbed with kosher salt, seared, and tossed into the oven). Second, within the Jewish faith they're the only birds that can be used for a korban (a type of sacrificial offering described in the Torah).

I recently was able to talk to my friend Sheng, the author of the only Hmong cookbook ever published, about the subject. Her family keeps a pigeon roost in their backyard for food. They're sustained on a seed mixture and a variety of healthy breads and bits of leftover fruit and vegetables. This, plus a large roost that gives them plenty of space to exercise makes for huge, hearty birds with lots of fat and meat to them.

The only thing dirty about them was their cage, which was totally, completely covered in bird shit. I mean were talking about a good multicolored crust of bird shit on the ground. But that's what kept birds do. They shit on stuff. If you want to call that dirty, then you're being cynical as all pets do this and as their owners we pick up after them. True, you might not eat Sparky so doesn't that make pigeons different? Not really, you have to pluck and clean the birds as it is, therefore cleaning any outside filth off. The birds are perfectly clean.

Tasty too.

Overall, I'm not sure how much of an authority I can really be on the subject. You should read Hank's blog for all things animal as he can better communicate the awesomeness of pigeon raising, hunting, cooking, and eating. I just know that if offered I'll never turn down pigeon.

-I shall name you Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner, Snack, and Extra Meal in the Day When I Get Bored and Begin to Eat Out of Habit.-

The Bushy Tail Mafia

Saturday, November 28, 2009

Finals time at school right now. Enjoy a little piece about the Bushy Tail Mafia.

Have you ever met the squirrels over at Sacramento State or the ones at the state capitol (referred to as capitol squirrels)? They aren't so much tame as they are ballsy. I mean these guys got no fear of people when it comes to food. Undaunted by our size, they rely on their adorable outfits, rambunctious play, and adorably chittery sounds to lure us in and feed them.

And they know we will. It's a sweet racket they have going here. Absent are the Forest Rangers and signs reminding us the lesson we all know well: DO NOT FEED THE ANIMALS. I do feed them happily... everyone does. Feeding the squirrels is the adorable bridge we're all jumping off.

Still, I try to be better about it than most. I avoid handing them cookies or bits of bleached white bread, rather I raid a few kumquats from the campus tree and give those to them. Some accept and curiously nibble them. Others toss them aside and go in hunt of an undergrad with a supply double stuff oreos (but for those, hell, I'll chitter on my hind legs for ya').

*insert dirty joke*

Anyways, I am finding that they're becomming aggressive in their begging. Bold. Intelligent. I think they are actually planning.

Take my last encounter with them as an example; after getting to the campus far too early, I decided to kill some time by laying on the grass and throwing a few kumquats to the furry fiends. I made a few chittering sounds, the speaking squirrel equivalent to adding "o" at the end of English words in an attempt to "speak" Spanish. It seemed to work though as one squirrel perked up and then came over me in gleeful bounds and hops. All very adorable. Cooing at them ensued.

I tossed him a kumquat to which he analyzed, turned over a few times, and began to eat in a furious nibble. Once finished he looked at me, "Have any more?" he seemd to say. I held one out to him. He cautiously looked at me. Looked at the kumquat. Looked at me. Then again at the kumquat. Carefully he moved, a pace at a time, then reached out and snatched it from my fingers.

A proud look on his face, he made a triumphant squeak.

I watched him complacently and then took notice of his friend bounding up to my left. I thought I'd give him one too. I turned to the small pile of kumquats on my right and then stopped. Three more squirrels sat staring at the small kumquat pile. I reached out for the kumquats and they all began to squeak at me.

Nervousness set in. Looking back to my left, the squirrel now had a friend. I turned my head. Another behind me.

Panic.

The first squirrel was a decoy. He'd sent out the call. I'd been set up. I was surrounded.

I turned back to the pile of kumquats which the squirrels were already running from, each with a little orange globe in their mouths. They had planned this little raid and were successfully pulling it off. It was like the velocoraptor scene in the first Jurassic Park movie. But cuter.

I got up and abandoned the fruit. I figured they might call others, and I couldn’t recall when I last had a rabies shot. I was totally outnumbered and they were smarter than me when it came to getting snackies.

It's only a matter of time. Screw the computers taking over. It's gonna be squirrels.

Image from Threadless.com.

Eat Beast Update #10: And So It Gets Worse

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

"I think your cat is bleeding?"

"What?!" Even in a feverish haze those words are enough to spring me into an adrenaline rush. My mind and body and now synched up along a perfect axis and I am now in concerned pet-parent mode. Regardless of the fact I've been unable to even crawl out of bed without becoming exhausted I have now thrown off the blankets, jumped over the couch and run up the stairs at blinding speed. Whereas three seconds ago my brain was mushy lump it now buzzes with the energy of a Tesla coil focused in on a single point.

As I reach the top of the stairs I look down to see small drops and pools of red liquid across the carpet. "Which cat?" I ask.

"Mace," the roommate points him out in my room. Inside Mace, aka Eat Beast, is sitting on the floor his back turned to me.

"Mace? Mace Face? You okay?" As I reach out to pet him he quickly turns away. I instinctively grab him and pull him close. Normally, Mace is about as relaxed as hell. He'll let me rub his tummy, use him as a bench press weight, or throw him over my shoulders like he were a feather boa. Physical inspections have never been a problem. For him to want to get away he has obviously done something wrong.

My tone changes. "Maaaace, what did yo-" A small cranberry falls out of his mouth. "The heck?" I look at Eat Beast as he licks his lips his eyes begin to stare into the corner. There, behind a broken, old television I've been meaning to toss out I see the hidden bag of cranberries.

Apparently he had stolen the entire bag from off the counter, dragged it upstairs, and had begun to eat them. After eating too many he had then thrown them up so he could make room for more cranberries. The spots all over the floor weren't blood, but bits of cranberry stained red blobs of saliva and cat vomit.

He wasn't bleeding, he was just binge eating. And binge purging.

My cat now has two eating disorders.

Goody.

Clove a Cold, Feed a Fever

Saturday, November 21, 2009

(I'm writing this in bed with a cold. I'm awake and needed to do something productive. If it gets a bit incoherent, well, you know why. I'm doing my best just to stay conscious as I read over this.)


I didn't quite expect that sucking on cloves would make my mouth go a bit numb but there it is. Still, my cough was gone and my nose wasn't flushing like the storm drains outside.

After attempting to push through the day at work I was sent home after having sweat right through a t-shirt and sweater due to fever. Over the past few days when I was coming down with it I had become a bit of a pariah as people began to shoo me away from their desks and paint lamb's blood over their office doors in an attempt to ward away my sickness. Taking the hint I packed myself up and took off much to the relief of everyone else.

In order to help speed up my recovery I decided to swing by the market for a bit of food. A firm believer in "Feed a cold, feed a fever" (I find no reason to starve either, unless you're throwing up) I decided a bit of nourishment might be in order.

I meandered around the market trying to get in and out as fast as possible. A fresh chicken to roast and then later break down into stock for chicken soup and, more importantly, curry - curry being my go-to sicky food. A bag of tangerines (water and vitamin C), some hummus and pita bread (something to nibble while watching bad movies in bed), and some decaf chai tea (to keep me hydrated and focused).

Now of course, this doesn't explain why I was anesthetizing my lower jaw. I've always been willing to try more natural means of healing myself; I'm a preacher of honey for chapped lips and believe gargling salt water is the cure all for sore throats. Now the other day I had been informed that cloves had incredible antifungal, antiviral, antibiotic, and anesthetic properties. Doing a bit of research I found that indeed clove oil was a main ingredient in most dental anesthetics and sinus related medications. Often home remedies argue for making tea with cloves, roasting them and then chewing them, or sucking on them in order to help with coughs, runny noses, or even toothaches.

Since I was already going a bit out of my way in order to feed my fever, I figured that I might as well try to feed my cough as well. Digging through my spice drawer I pulled out an ancient jar of cloves and plucked one out. I opened my mouth and snugly placed it between my gum and cheek and anxiously awaited for results.

About seven minutes later my nose had stopped running and my cough was gone. I was dizzy with amazement, or fever, but either way I was impressed and a little off balance.

Ten minutes later I lost feeling in my lower right jaw. Those anesthetic properties of cloves? Yeah, you'd be surprised how effective they over over prolonged exposure. The inside of my right cheek and gums were now completely numb, feeling cottony to touch and lazy to respond. But at least my breath was aromatic and spicy. I was a germ packed aromatic welcome wagon of the holidays - like a spice scented candle in a public bathroom.

This is not to say I wasn't still pleased with the results. For the first time in two days I could breath through my nose without sounding like a truck downshifting on a highway. Furthermore, this anesthetic side effect could prove useful someday.

I went and grabbed one of the tangerines from the bag and plopped myself on the couch like a sack of old laundry. Burying myself in blankets and two cats eager for attention I turned on a rerun of Kill Bill and began the healing process. As I bit into my tangerine, I tasted bright citrusy flavors. And cloves.

Huh.

Later my roast chicken also tasted like cloves. My hummus? Delightfully spicy with a slight hint of cloves. Pita bread? Cloves. Chai tea? Oh, you bet it tasted like cloves. My breath smelled like so much cloves you'd think I was at a goth club all night smoking them while wearing too much black eyeliner.

So, cloves for sickness. My final word? Go for it. It works. Just learn to deal with the side effects in stride.

Crapload of Cranberries

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

-Cranberries, ginger, orange, and shortbread. It's normal for you to be a little aroused by that.-

"I'm sorry, how many cranberries do you have?" I asked having been caught off guard and needing to make sure.

"A crapload," Kristy, my classmate, responded flatly.

"You have a crapload of cranberries?" I was amused at the meter and alliteration of her statement, and yet disgusted by the mental image in my head. "That's... lovely."

"So what can I do with them?"

"Uhh..." she had caught me in the middle of an argument between my various inner voices as we/I debated our/my schedule and how all final papers and assignments would be time budgeted. I silenced them all down as quickly as I could and began to stumble out what seemed to be a cohesive response. "Uh, well... let's see. Um, what kind of recipe are you looking for? I guess, I have a great one for cranberry sorbet."

She gave a frustrated sigh. "I don't have an ice cream maker. Not all of us cook like you do. I need something quick and easy - preferably dessert - that I can slap together a few times over the next few months. My dad brought me like three bags of the things and I dunno what to do with them." As she said all this her hands gesticulated so erratically I wondered if she might accidentally slap some poor passerby unconscious.

"Hmm, well it is a bit early for cranberry sauce I assume?"

"Yeah, and honestly I'm not a huge fan as the canned stuff turned me off as a child," she said, her face contorting into a sneer as her tongue slithered out in an show of disgust.

"Let me get back to you on that, I'll see I can figure out something easy." She thanked me and as she went to her desk and I went back all the different aspects of brain voiced their opinions in heated debate once more.

You could have given her the cranberry cake recipe! Who uses the word crapload? Why would someone not have an ice cream maker? That's a stupid question! I want to do something new! Who has the time? I wonder what would happen if she actually had slapped someone?

And so on. Eventually we/I came to the decision to make some cranberry shortbread bars.

I had tried one or two recipes in the past and found them to be somewhat disappointing as most tasted like soggy pie dough with overly sweetened cranberry sauce sloped over it. Joy of Baking's recipe, whose shortbread base I found inspiring due to the dumplette-like use of it on top of the cranberries adorable and for it's tender texture and old-fashioned flavor, was where I decided to start in developing a new cranberry bar. I took the basic cranberry filling recipe, the same for most any cranberry bar, and then decided to perk it up a bunch.

This filling is a small dose of brown sugar to make the flavor a little darker. An insane amount of grated ginger and the zest of an orange are added to add personality. The result is a cranberry bar that's enticing; one that wears a slinky red dress and beguiles your senses in spicy, citrusy smells.

The next day I brought over the cranberry bars to her desk.

"OMG!" because she doesn't say "Oh, my God," "These are so good! Is there ginger in this?"

"Yeps. I also threw in some orange a pinch of cinnamon and some vanilla too because, you know, why the hell not, right?" I shrugged and smiled. "So these work? Supe easy to throw together and it'll use up your cranberries. Though you will need to pick up some fresh ginger and oranges."

"I'll just throw in some ground ginger and toss in spoonful or orange juice. I have the rest I think."

My brain sighed just a little and I almost said something about her suggested substitutions but decided to leave it alone. More than likely I would choose to do the same if it came to it.

"So when can I get the recipe?"

"Just check my blog in a few days."

And so, here it is.

-All the voices in your head will agree that this cranberry bar is awesome. However, the cranberry bar is unable to make them shut up about it.-

Ginger Cranberry Bars
Makes one 8X8 pan - adapted from Joy of Baking

Cranberry Filling
2 1/2 cups of cranberries
1/3 cup + 3 tablespoons of sugar
2 tablespoons of brown sugar
1 tablespoon of freshly grated ginger
1 tablespoon of orange zest
3 tablespoons of water
1 teaspoon of vanilla extract

Shortbread Mixture
2 cups of flour
2 tablespoons of cornstarch
pinch of salt
1 teaspoon of ground ginger
1 cup of butter
1 teaspoon of vanilla
1/3 cup of brown sugar

1. Preheat the oven to 350F and lightly grease an 8X8 (or 9x9) inch pan with butter or cooking spray.

2. Place cranberries, sugar, brown sugar, ginger, orange zest, water, and vanilla extract in a 2 quart saucepan and place over medium-high heat. Bring to a boil and boil for 5 minutes until it becomes reduced and syrupy. Be sure to give the mixture a stir once in a while to ensure the mixture does not burn; be gentle though as you don't want to break the berries but keep them whole. Take off heat and allow to cool.

3. Sift together in a separate bowl the flour, cornstarch, salt, and ginger.

4. In an electric mixer cream the butter with the brown sugar and vanilla. Slowly add in the flour mixture until just incorporated.

5. Press two-thirds of the dough into the prepared pan. Then evenly spread the cranberry filling, leaving 1/4 inch of space on the sides. Crumble the remaining dough over the top. Bake for 30 minutes or until top begins to brown around the edges. Cool on a wire rack, then cut and serve.

-This is what a crapload of cranberries looks like in bar cookie form.-

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