Why You Should be Barbecuing More Duck

The other weekend, my parents and in-laws visited for a cookout. My wife’s parents immigrated from Taiwan and love food of every kind. I’m too self-conscious to cook Chinese for them, yet I like twists on typical American specialties. I had the idea to barbecue duck, because why not? It seemed like a natural thing to do. They love duck and so do we. It also seemed like something for which it would be easy to find a recipe. After all, we live in the “sort-of” South, surrounded by prolific hunters.

Surprise. I could hardly find any recipes for barbecued duck at all and almost all that I could find were slow-cooker recipes. Clearly this is not as popular as I’d thought it would be. That’s a shame. Here’s why duck barbecue belongs in every backyard barbecuer’s repertoire:

1. Duck is ideally-suited for barbecue. Barbecuing tends to dry out most meat. Duck’s subcutaneous fat enshrouds and bastes its meat as it renders. For ribs, pork shoulder, or chicken, I prefer to foil-wrap the meat part-way through and/or place a water tray in the smoker to help prevent those meats from drying out. None of that was necessary here. My two ducks were turned half-way through and done in about six hours at a relatively hot 250 to 275 degrees F. They were the juiciest things I’ve ever barbecued. Also, duck meat is very forgiving. It’s hard to overcook or undercook. I found the meat pull-apart tender at about 170 degrees F. A little more cooking might have rendered off a little more of the subcutaneous fat, but I don’t mind it.

2. Duck tastes awesome smoked. Not only does the dry heat of a barbecue grill crisp the skin, duck’s dark meat stands up remarkably well to smoke. I brined the duck for about 24 hours in the following solution:

1 gallon water

1/2 cup salt

1/4 cup brown sugar

1 tablespoon juniper berries

1 tablespoon black peppercorns

1 cinnamon stick

2 star anise pods

I like to use this concentration with poultry as it seems to help it retain moisture more than a saltier brine. After brining, I allowed the ducks to rest on a rack, uncovered in the refrigerator overnight to dry out the skin.

Come early morning, I put the ducks near the fresh fire and added soaked cherrywood chips to the coals every 45 minutes for the first three hours. The cherrywood made the meat sing, but duck could probably stand up to stronger smokes like pecan or hickory better than other poultry.

3. Duck is surprisingly versatile. My in-laws pointed out that smoked duck is a classic Chinese dish, which I hadn’t even considered. They ate it straight-up and thought the duck would have been great served shredded or sliced on a Chinese pancake. I gave it the North Carolina BBQ treatment and served it on buns with cole slaw, and a simple pepper vinegar, which cut the fat one would expect of BBQ nicely. Speaking of fat, I trimmed the excess skin before cooking and rendered, because duck fat is culinary liquid gold and healthier than butter or lard. My in-laws pilfered the smoked carcasses for soup, but they would have made a great base for Cajun beans and rice.

duck barbecue

Yum.

In summary, why aren’t more people doing this? I’m of the opinion duck is the best meat most Americans never eat. Please help spread the word. It doesn’t have to be that way.

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One Last Thought on Comic Book Grimdark…

My wife read over my last post about recent comic book movies and thought it wrong of me not to link this:

 

 

So there you have it.

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Hooked on a Feeling

"This never would have happened if that Schumacher guy were still around."

“This never would have happened if that Schumacher guy were still around.”

We managed to see Guardians of the Galaxy the other day and I think it’s time for someone (whomever makes declarations about such things), to declare this one of the greatest geek movies of the year; of the decade; of a generation. It’s an unapologetic space opera with a stylin’ throwback soundtrack, comic book tie-ins, and freakin’ Bradley Cooper as a trash-talking racoon.

We watched Guardians not long after reading up on the upcoming Batman v Superman teasers from San Diego Comic Con. I agree with others that based on the title alone, this should totally be about a Supreme Court case… but that’s not going to happen. We’re far more likely to see a rehash of The Dark Knight Returns.

Growing up, I was a much bigger fan of DC’s comics than Marvel’s comics, X-Men notwithstanding. That said, watching Guardians helped clarify something that’s been bugging me for a while about teasers for this film and some of DC’s recent movies in general. The fact of the matter is, I’m frankly not looking forward to watching Batman v Superman. I’m sure I will watch it. I’m just not expecting to enjoy it.

There’s an article on Vulture about DC’s overuse of Frank Miller as source material. I quibble with some of the details. Case in point, the recent movies have drawn from plenty of not-Frank-Miller sources. Jeph Loeb and Alan Moore jump to mind. I agree with the main premise of the article though that DC’s movies have all been a bit one-note in the post-Schumacher era. Not that I’m holding up the Schumacher Batmans as some ideal. Hell no. Just that something’s been kind of… off. Contrary to the above article, I would argue that the problem isn’t Frank Miller himself. It’s the type of grimdark storytelling he championed.

By “grimdark,” I’m not calling out the fantasy subgenre here, though I’d argue they’re a related phenomenon. Rather, I mean the tendency to draw out the grit and grim that hit comics like a sack of bricks in the eighties.

Here’s my biggest problem with comic book grimdark–it’s been done before. And taken to an extreme, it’s a creative dead-end. Thirty years ago, Alan Moore pointing out that capes are a silly and potentially dangerous fashion statement was clever and subversive. Now even Pixar gets thatWatchmen and The Dark Knight Returns changed the way many people perceived comic books… thirty years ago. Think about that. We’ve already seen Batman beat the living snot out of Superman. As a stylistic choice, grimdark can lend itself to lazy storytelling.

If one of my biggest problems with recent DC offerings is their grimdark edge, a related problem could well be Zach Snyder–watching his take on Watchmen and 300 made me realize he eats this shit up. Watchmen was a pretty well-crafted film. Being pretty literal to the source, it was also to me borderline unwatchable. His ability to approach his subjects with less irony than they warrant startles me. Especially since, you know, comic books. DC’s movie approach compared to Marvel’s serves up an ounce more verisimilitude at the expense of a pound of fun and charm.

And here’s another thing: this is one of the reasons I’ve hesitated to watch Man of Steel despite loving most of Superman’s live action incarnations (spoiler alert). A storyteller is god of a lesser world. She or he can tell a story that reinforces violence or a story that fosters empathy and understanding.

I’m not arguing there’s something inherently wrong with a particular mode of storytelling over another. The Dark Knight Returns was my all-time favorite comic as a teenager. That was a very long time ago. All the while I’m dreading a comic book movie about two of my all-time favorite characters meeting up, I’ve spent the last week with Blue Swede looping in my head.

Is that so wrong?

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Why the Lego Movie is a Better Matrix Film Than the Matrix

Our six-year-old daughter took me to see The Lego Movie a few weeks ago. My takeaway: this is what the Matrix trilogy should have been.

Read on only if you don’t mind spoilers of both films.

My parents went with our daughter the first go-around seeing the movie and, having not seen The Matrix, totally didn’t realize the The Lego Movie is more or less a spoof thereof. It blatantly and hilariously borrows from The Matrix: from its “chosen one” plot to its philosophical premise–the world as we know it is a facade. Here’s how the Wachowski siblings could’ve done it better.

1. The Lego Movie knows its place in the world 

Yup. It’s a movie about Legos. Produced by the company that creates Legos. With the intent of selling you Legos. Should we pretend that the Matrix trilogy didn’t try really hard to sell us video games? The Lego Movie never pretends to be something it’s not and its wry self-aware humor makes its blue pill a little easier to swallow. Yes, The Matrix offers a few chuckles. It’s also got a hell of a lot of plot holes as well as a premise that doesn’t make a lot of sense in spite of (or because of?) its Platonic cred. We can give The Lego Movie a pass on its plot holes because it presents its comedy front and center. If a movie wants to sell you “big ideas” it’s best not to shout, “THIS MOVIE IS ABOUT BIG IDEAS” upfront.

One of my favorite movies of all time is Big Fish. It’s absolutely hilarious and its final scenes left me bawling uncontrollably. I almost never cry during movies. The poignancy snuck up on me. Yoon Ha Lee writes some of the best short space opera around. She describes herself as a writer aiming to “assassinate the reader.

“The thing is that I don’t want the reader to see the short sharp point clearly from the beginning, but I want it to make sense afterward as the angle of attack.”

Sorry, Matrix. You broadcasted it a mile away and the point was not all that sharp. Lego Movie? I never saw it coming. And for the record, I sniffled just a little.

On the subject of philosophy…

2. The Matrix is morally bankrupt

Cracked says it best. Also here.

The “heroes” of The Matrix would have us believe that confronting a life of deceit is an inherent good that justifies any means. Call me crazy. I feel like they need to support that theorem a little better. Also, I’m not sure what’s more disturbing–the callousness with which the “good guys” kill people they purport to want to save and so readily call them “the enemy” or the fact that after all of that, the movie trilogy has an out-of-left field “we can live in peace” ending.

Seriously?

3. The Lego Movie handles its philosophical dilemma with more nuance

Neo is the Chosen One. “Chosen One” narratives are problematic as all hell. They’re about the elite and able saving the masses through arbitrary means at the discretion of the storyteller. They tell us little about the world or the human condition. You could say there’s something Christlike about Neo’s sacrifice at the trilogy’s end. If Christ had an uzi.

Alongside The Lego Movie‘s purpose of, you know, selling us all more Legos, is a message that manages to be naive, audacious, and heartwarming at once. There’s something beautiful about the way it resolves its own “Chosen One” story. There’s worth and uniqueness in all of us. Even the “bad guy.”

Corny? Sure. At least it makes sense in the context of the film.

So those are my two cents. If you still don’t believe me, consider this–The Lego Movie earned a higher score on Rotten Tomatoes than The Matrix. This blog is strictly my opinion. But Rotten Tomatoes? That’s science.

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For the Love of Doughnuts

doughnut!

In the spirit of my pledge to avoid a New Year’s resolution and rather practice more serenity in the New Year, I decided not to lose weight, but make doughnuts. It was quite literally the first thing I did in 2014. On January 1st, I took dough out of the fridge and deep fried for like the fourth time since 1/1/13.

Most of that frying, as it turns out, had to do with doughnuts. Good old fashioned yeast doughnuts.

Why? Because I love them. They’re a “sometimes” food for sure and I rarely partake, but I can think of few other foods that evoke such regressive passion in me. And it’s not because I used to have them all the time either. My mother was a great Southern cook, but  she didn’t cook a lot of unhealthy food. Yes, butter was a default seasoning, but I remember her biscuits as rather lean. If there was a way to pan-fry something one might normally deep-fry, she did it. In fact, the only things I ever remember her deep-frying on any kind of consistent basis were tempura vegetables. ‘Cause apparently I was a finicky eater in the days before we up and moved to Korea and that was a guaranteed way I’d eat my veggies.

No. We didn’t eat doughnuts at home. We didn’t eat them out much either. They were an indulgence. An oasis of junk-foody goodness in a desert of healthy-but-unexciting stuff. The first time I ever had a Krispy Kreme, I was in middle school and it was a revelation–fresh-glazed, hot out of the oil. Like nothing I’d ever eaten before.

So, yes, we’ve challenged ourselves to eat healthier food this year. We try for a Meatless Monday (usually Sunday). I’ve managed to hook our daughter on certain bean dishes and Indian dal. That stuff is important. But in terms of pleasure-sensor-pricking, doughnuts were my Holy Grail.

Last year, my wife gave me the Bouchon Bakery cookbook for Christmas. I mentioned this in a previous post–which means I’ve been blogging for over a year now (wow). It’s an amazing foodie book. I loved the illustrations. I loved the step-by-step instructions for complex baking operations. I also loved the insights into running a commercial bakery empire. I’m a big fan of Thomas Keller. His is not my all-time favorite roast chicken recipe (that would be Judy Rodgers’), but the way he describes eating chicken butts borders on pornography. Bouchon is not primarily his cookbook, but I loved his thoughts on cooking. And there were recipes too. One of the first I made from the Bouchon Bakery cookbook in 2013: doughnuts.

I wanted to love them. I really did. Unfortunately, I found them a tad dry and bready. They were good enough hot from the oil, but hardly the overindulgence I’d craved. They tasted like doughnuts designed with responsible grownups in mind and you know that isn’t right.

So, if you ever happen to read this, Thomas Keller, know that I love you. Your bakery’s doughnut recipe just isn’t for me.

I started with the Bouchon recipe and about doubled the butter. Then I up-tweaked the amount of milk to create a more moist dough. Then I fiddled with a few other ingredients. And the mixing directions (which I found odd and time consuming). And the frying temperature. My final recipe, after testing several tweaks, is pretty-much completely different from Bouchon’s recipe. Fresh from the oil, they’re almost as melt-in-your mouth gooey as a Krispy Kreme. A tad more butter or vegetable shortening could push them over the edge, but I like them just like this. They taste more substantial–like something that’s okay for a human being to eat. I suppose doughnuts, like life, are a balancing act.

A few notes: I usually weigh my ingredients with a kitchen scale and have listed weight in grams because I find metric more precise and useful when crafting recipes. It’s easier to figure out the proportions of ingredients to each other. I’ve also found after years of baking, I get far more consistent results measuring by weight than volume. When working with yeast-dough, a few splashes of water or flicks of flour can make a significant difference in the final product.

So please try. Enjoy. Indulge. Just not too often.

Now in all seriousness, I do kinda need to lose weight this year.

Doughnuts

Ingredients:

250 grams all-purpose flour

125 grams milk, warm room temperature

57 grams butter, room temperature (about half of a 4 oz. stick)

50 grams egg, room temperature (about 1 large)

35 grams sugar

5 grams yeast

5 grams salt

2.5 grams vanilla extract (about ¾ teaspoon)

Directions:

In an electric mixer with the dough hook attachment, stir together the flour and the yeast. Once the yeast is combined, add the salt and sugar. Mix in the milk, egg, and vanilla extract and knead on medium-high for about five minutes, or until the dough is sticky and cohesive. scraping the bowl as needed. Then add the room-temperature butter in several pieces. Mix for several more minutes until the butter is evenly absorbed.

Turn the dough onto a lightly-floured countertop. Stretch it into a rectangle and then fold it back on itself like a letter. Repeat in the other direction. Place the dough into a covered, lightly-oiled bowl or glass measuring cup and let rise for about an hour. The dough may have risen by about 50%. Turn it out onto the lightly-floured countertop again and repeat the folding. Return it to the covered bowl or measuring cup and refrigerate overnight.

Remove the dough from the refrigerator and gently stretch, roll, or pat the dough into a disk about 7 to 8 inches in diameter and about a quarter-inch thick. Place this disk on a baking sheet covered with lightly-oiled parchment paper. Return this to the refrigerator or freezer until chilled firm, giving the dough time to rest. Using two cutters, one about three inches in diameter and another about one inch in diameter, cut out the doughnuts. The excess can be bunched together and re-rolled. The doughnuts or doughnut holes cut from this dough will not be as attractive, but they’ll taste just as good. Let the dough rise for about an hour or until puffy.

cutters

My doughnut cutters: a standard-sized tumbler and a relic from my friskier days.

doughnut dough

Shaped doughnuts, ready to rise.

Heat about an inch of oil in a pot or Dutch oven to about 325 for pale, soft doughnuts or 350 for more brown and crisp doughnuts. Fry for about thirty seconds, flip, fry for another 45 seconds, flip again, and then fry until they have achieved the desired color. If making doughnuts without holes that will be filled, cook for several more minutes, up to five.

Toss the doughnuts in white sugar, cinnamon sugar, powdered sugar, or coat with a glaze. Doughnuts and doughnut holes are best served hot from the oil with the exception of filled doughnuts, which should be allowed to cool before filling and topping with powdered sugar or a glaze.

cranberry doughnuts

New Year’s doughnuts stuffed with leftover cranberry sauce. Because what else are you going to do with it?

Note:

Recipe Percentages:

100% all-purpose flour

23% butter

20% egg

50% milk

14% sugar

2% instant yeast

2% salt

1% vanilla extract

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Christmas Reflections

Our six-year-old daughter on our way home from a family Christmas gathering:

“Daddy, imagine if Darth Vader gave you a Christmas present. And imagine if his eight tiny reindeer pulled a Death Star.”

When it comes to good parenting, the proof is in the pudding.

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William Shakespeare’s Star Wars (Verily, a New Hope)

Back in high school, I was a Star Wars superfan.

I’ve mentioned before that I grew up in a Star Trek household, but when it came time for the inevitable “Trek vs. Wars” debate, I always took up the Lucasfilm gauntlet. Why? The fantasy and mythology resonated with me in my youth. Return of the Jedi is one of the first films I clearly remember watching in theaters. Also, I could smile and nod, but never completely bought Star Trek’s utopian underpinnings. Star Wars’ Force seemed far more “real” to me.

Oh yeah. And laser swords. Star Wars won the “rule of cool” award hands down even if I didn’t know there was such a rule as a teenager.

I gobbled up every Expanded Universe story I could get my hands on. Tales of the Jedi. Dark Empire. Pretty much every novel from Heir to the Empire to the Black Fleet Crisis. I even bought the RPG sourcebooks even though I didn’t actually play the RPG. I poured over the vehicle schematics; the Alliance and Imperial military hierarchy; the alien races.

After a couple of years, I burned out on it all. It annoyed me when I found contradictory diagrams of the Millennium Falcon’s layout. It bugged the snot out of me when I felt the core characters were out of character. I still love Star Wars, but my passion for the series is more smolder than raging fire.

That’s where I was when I approached Ian Douescher’s William Shakepeare’s Star Wars. It was a gift from my wife. If she weren’t as big a geek as me, we would have problems.

Darth Vader and my shadow

Darth Vader and my shadow

At first glance, it struck me as too much of a gimmick. I never jumped on the Pride and Prejudice and Zombies bandwagon.  Then I actually read this lovely book and decided it’s got to be one of the greatest feats of Star Wars fandom ever accomplished.

First off, hardly any action or dialogue is omitted. It’s Star Wars, in iambic pentameter. With authentic Shakesearean archaisms. With terse stage directions and a chorus describing all of the action. Seriously. My favorite stage direction:

Enter PRINCESS LEIA, in beam projected by R2-D2.

And we mustn’t forget asides and soliloquys:

HAN [to Luke]: I say, what a charming girl thou here hast found!

Either I shall destroy her or, perhaps,

I may in time begin to like the wench!

LUKE [aside]: Nay, executioner or lover, both

Are far too great a role for thee to play.

The book provides a few diversions into camp and parody. In a way, not unlike its source. In one groanable passage, Luke Skywalker gazes upon his helmet and laments, “Alas, poor stormtrooper.” There’s also a clever “who shot first” diversion in Mos Eisley. But for the most part, the book plays it straight, to its own benefit. And truthfully (verily?) its shockingly Shakespearean.  The transition is remarkably sharp.  Han Solo’s one-liners translate into surprisingly eloquent verse, as in here, aboard the Millennium Falcon:

A pilgrim, truly said! For I have gone

From galaxy to galaxy and more,

Yet never hath this faithful worshipper

Found aught to recommend that strange belief–

A singe Force that binds the universe.

True ’tis, no power mystical controls

Han Solo’ yet unfinish’d destiny.

And so I preach the one and only faith:

My simple, merry tricks are all my gods,

And nonsense is the only testament.

I worship at the shrine of my own will.

I haven’t read much Shakespeare since my English major days and this book reminded me of all sorts of stylistic quirks I’d forgotten. Rhyming verse to conclude scenes? Check. The ubiquitous chorus? Check. Expository asides that totally state the obvious? Yes, I’m looking at you Obi-Wan. And furthermore, the book’s iambic pentameter is really solid–using some of Shakespeare’s cheats (abbreviating words and fusing lines of dialogue) to make it work.

And now I’ll write the rest of this review,

In ‘glorious’ iambic pentameter.

Iambic pentam’ter.

Iambic…

See, that shit’s hard.

Beyond mimicking Shakespeare’s style, however, there really is something Shakespearean about this undertaking. Shakespeare wrote in a time when originality was not highly prized. Before becoming plays, his stories existed in legend, lore, or the zeitgeist. He didn’t invent Hamlet. He didn’t invent Romeo and Juliet. But he made them popular. It was okay to be derivative as long as one was entertainining.

Critics of Star Wars could always, fairly, argue its sci-fi setting is inconsequential. It doesn’t do anything with its plot you couldn’t do as a western or fantasy epic. I have a feeling Shakespeare would have shrugged at that criticism (after, you know, puzzling out what “sci-fi” actually is).

Lately, I’ve noticed a flood of Star Wars properties, whether Origami Yoda or Vader’s Little Princess. As a popular culture, we seem to be putting more value than ever in the nostalgic and derivative. That was Shakespeare’s forte. Hell, if Star Wars were around during the reign of Elizabeth he probably would have written his own version of the story.

But then, if you ask me, Goffrey Chaucer’s Star Wars would have been so much cooler. More ironic, more sublime, and more metamodern. Shakespeare’s fine and all. Just a tad overrated.

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A Tale of Two Trailers

We finally watched Disney’s Frozen on Black Friday. Going into the film, we had no idea what to expect. Here’s why: by midsummer, we could only find two trailers. First, the international trailer–available in an assortment of languages, none of which being English. I’m linking the Japanese because Japanese voice actors and actresses are the world’s most badass. Prove me wrong.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pRJv1K28quE

Totally flippin’ sweet! If you can read Japanese, you’ll note it’s titled Anna and the Snow Queen. What about an English language trailer though? Well, it would be a while before one of those came out. We could find only this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-WdC4DaYIeQ

Huh?

So, I’m thinking, this is the same movie, right? It would be a while before the full English trailer arrived, but even then, we went into the movie cold (so to speak).

So which trailer came closest? Well, both and neither. Adding a hearty dose of Broadway comes a little closer to the true picture. Wikipedia classifies Frozen as a “computer animated epic musical fantasy comedy film.” I’m not even sure what that means. To paraphrase Douglas Adams, it was clear from the beginning the movie would be almost, but not quite, entirely unlike anything Hans Christian Anderson would have ever written. But really, what is it?

And that’s my big quibble with the film, which isn’t really a quibble at all. It’s hard to pigeon-hole Frozen: beautiful, thrilling, and goofy, but surprising. Yes, there’s a largely-unnecessary comic-relief side-kick. Yes, there’s an unevenness of tone that’s typical Disney. At the same time, it breaks the mold in a lot of ways a spoiler-free review can’t describe. Hans Christian Anderson’s Snow Queen is a two-dimensional villainess–a Luciferian temptress in the tradition of Milton. Frozen‘s “Snow Queen,” Elsa, is easily one of Disney’s most complex characters. If you’ve seen enough Disney films, you kind of know the basic plot. That holds true here as well, but even then a few moments had me earnestly wondering where they were going with this thing.

Frozen is one of the most nuanced and subversive films Disney has ever created. This is the film for anyone who’s ever wondered why Disney heroines can be princesses, but never queens. For anyone who’s wondered, “Hey, where are the siblings?” Or why, in 2013, is the Bechdel test still so hard for a company that markets its films to girls and young women? Or why do Disney couples shop for the wedding ring on their second dates?

I’m being vague because I really don’t want to give anything away. It’s that unique. See it or yourself.

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Thoughts on Joss Whedon

Is this what they mean by “mansplaining?”

The other day, Joss Whedon tried a little verbal jujutsu in his dissection of the word, “feminist.”

Included is an excerpt:

Ist in it’s meaning is also a problem for me. Because you can’t be born an ist. It’s not natural… So feminist includes the idea that believing men and women to be equal, believing all people to be people, is not a natural state. That we don’t emerge assuming that everybody in the human race is a human, that the idea of equality is just an idea that’s imposed on us. That we are indoctrinated with it, that it’s an agenda……My problem with feminist is not the word. It’s the question. “Are you now, or have you ever been, a feminist?” The great Katy Perry once said—I’m paraphrasing—”I’m not a feminist but I like it when women are strong.”…Don’t know why she feels the need to say the first part, but listening to the word and thinking about it, I realize I do understand. This question that lies before us is one that should lie behind us. The word is problematic for me because there’s another word that we’re missing…

…When you say racist, you are saying that is a negative thing. That is a line that we have crossed. Anything on the side of that line is shameful, is on the wrong side of history. And that is a line that we have crossed in terms of gender but we don’t have the word for it…

…I start thinking about the fact that we have this word when we’re thinking about race that says we have evolved beyond something and we don’t really have this word for gender. Now you could argue sexism, but I’d say that’s a little specific. People feel removed from sexism. ‘I’m not a sexist, but I’m not a feminist.’ They think there’s this fuzzy middle ground. There’s no fuzzy middle ground. You either believe that women are people or you don’t. It’s that simple…

Genderist. I would like this word to become the new racist. I would like a word that says there was a shameful past before we realized that all people were created equal. And we are past that. And every evolved human being who is intelligent and educated and compassionate and to say I don’t believe that is unacceptable. And Katy Perry won’t say, “I’m not a feminist but I like strong women,” she’ll say, “I’m not a genderist but sometimes I like to dress up pretty.” And that’ll be fine.

This is how we understand society. The word racism didn’t end racism, it contextualized it in a way that we still haven’t done with this issue. Does that mean that this will end the problem? Yes, definitely, we’ve done it.

So while I think I see what he’s getting at… okay, I actually don’t. Did he just 1) make up his own word to take the place of “sexist?” And 2) did he just say that we’re “past” it?

Joss Whedon’s always occupied a peculiar place in pop culture–a white, heterosexual cis-male who has been closely aligned with feminism over the years. A lot has been said about whether or not the title “feminist” really fits for him.

He writes swashbuckling stories with larger than life characters and I’m glad he gives women a space to be larger than life and swashbuckling. Some of his stuff can get pretty problematic though. First and foremost, most of his “strong” women are exceptional. What you won’t see in a lot of in his stories are women who are… well… ordinary. And I don’t mean that in a derogatory way. I mean it in a “Free to Be You and Me” kind of way. You don’t see a lot of women who are not the Chosen One. Not science experiments. Not following male ideals of heroism. Traditionally feminine in a way that doesn’t hyper-emphasize their sexuality. Cracked has a great, albeit tongue in cheek, breakdown of Joss Whedon’s female archetypes.

What you don’t see are a lot of female lawyers and judges and doctors and police officers and politicians and… you get the idea. In fact, his worlds tend to be depressingly patriarchal. Runaways is one of my favorite Marvel Comics. During his run on the series, the characters travel back in time to 1907 Manhattan where they meet 12-year-old Klara Prast: a physically and sexually abused child bride. A mutant, she travels back to the future with them, becoming a regular (and emotionally stunted) character and Whedon’s contribution to the series. It was hard not to feel crawly reading that arc. Whedon writes a lot of “powerful women,” but not a lot of women with real power.

Others have written more nuanced critiques of his remarks on sexism. Excuse me. “genderism.” I’m not trying to condemn the man and his creations. Any work of fiction’s going to be problematic to someone, sometime, somehow. In fact, I quite liked Buffy and Firefly. His works tend to be pulpy and entertaining. But are they feminist? Joss Whedon himself seems to be saying we should stop calling them that from now on.

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Discipline and Bacon Don’t Mix

One of my goals in establishing this blog was to share some of my favorite recipes. I never knew it would be so goddamn hard.

To be clear, the blogging itself isn’t so difficult. The tough part, I find, is capturing what I do in nice, neat stages. Case in point from a few months ago:

empty plate

I THINK this was kung pao chicken. Whatever it was, it was pretty darn good.

Case in point 2–my wife and I ended up in a AAA 5-diamond restaurant a few months ago. As I’ve said before, I’m not big on the “food porn” sub-genre of blogging, but thought since it’s rare for us to eat out in the first place, I may as well document it.

So this is how I started…

poached octopus

Foreground: EVOO-poached octopus.

… And after a couple of courses of nearly forgetting to take a picture, this ended up happening.

??

I… just don’t know.

In a nutshell that’s why I’m so bad at blogging my culinary adventures. I’m just too damn eager to eat them.

Luckily, I had a little more patience  with a grand foray over the last couple of weeks into dry aged, cold-smoked bacon.

Homemade bacon

The real deal

I started with two and a half pounds of local, pastured pork belly from Whole Foods and the basic pancetta recipe and method laid out in Ruhlman and Polcyn’s Charcuterie.

The cure consisted of about 1/4 cup salt, 2 tablespoons brown sugar, and half a teaspoon of pink salt. Add to that a teaspoon of nutmeg, tablespoon of crushed bay leaf, and 2 tablespoons coarsely-crushed black pepper. I rubbed the pork belly all over and put it in a gallon bag for shy of a week, turning occasionally. Afterwards, I rinsed it, patted it dry, wrapped it in cheese cloth, and hung it in a part-open cooler for about a week and a half. You know. So the cats don’t get to it.

I probably should have photographed this. Meh.

I’d never cold-smoked before, so this was something of an experiment. I have a Chargriller with an offset smoke box and dumped just a couple of barely-lit hardwood coals into the box. I added the bacon to the main compartment on top of a nice, clean wire rack. Nearby, I placed a tray of ice cubes to keep the heat in the chamber down. I added a handful of hickory chips to the barely-smoldering coals about every fifteen minutes, or until it had stopped smoking. The vents spent most of the smoking time closed or barely-cracked–I didn’t want it to get hot enough to cook. It was a relatively cool summer day and I managed to keep the smoking chamber at about 100 degrees F.

Smoker

Smoker

Here’s the result at about the half-way point.

Bacon

Smokin’

It could have smoked a little longer, but I wanted a delicate smoke flavor and decreed it done after about two and a half hours of moderate to heavy smoke. The end result: one of the best BLTs I’ve ever had.

BLT

Homemade bacon, Tartine Bread brioche, homemade aioli, and tomato from an acquaintance’s garden.

I consider that there’s a picture at all to be a sign of a modest improvement.

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