May 6, 2011

Tales of the Gold Monkey ...Flashback

This was one of my favorite television shows of the early '80's.  How could I not like it?  Set in the late 1930's, a time of spies and intrigue, on a tropical island under French jurisdiction in the south Pacific. A ex-military pilot flying a seaplane who has a comic sidekick and a one-eyed dog with a cafe singer for a girlfriend make for exciting television.    And that's just a few of the characters.  With plot lines dealing with German spies and unruly natives things kept getting better and better. Stephen Collins played the main character, Jake Cutter, the owner-pilot of the Grumman flying boat, Cutter's Goose.

I'm a big fan of adventure stories whether on film or in print and this was one of the best. I'm reminded of a character in a Louis L'Amour story who flew a seaplane which had machine guns mounted on it. Maybe the creator of Tales of the Gold Monkey read the same stories. And maybe that is the connection between the best of western fiction  and the best of south Pacific pre-WWII aviation intrigue. At any rate this was a great fun show. Plots were simple and the good guys were easy to distinguish from the bad guys.

Of the actors in this show Stephen Collins went on to  many movies and television series and is probably best known for his role in 7th Heaven. Roddy MacDowall was a well known film actor when he took a part in Tales of the Gold Monkey.  Jeff MacKay would play recurring characters in other television series such as Magnum P.I., JAG, Battlestar Galactica, The Black Sheep Squadron, and Airwolf as well as other adventure shows.

I'm a great fan of  the productions of Donald P. Bellisario, the producer of Tales of the Gold Monkey. Other Bellisario productions include Magnum P. I., Airwolf, Quantum Leap, JAG, and NCIS.  Bellisario was also the writer of such shows as Black Sheep Squadron and Battlestar Gallactica.


Links:

May 5, 2011

Vaison la Romaine

It was frustrating! We were tired of driving but could not find our bed and breakfast in Vaison la Romaine. We had followed the maps downloaded to our iPod, and they were accurate right up to the barricade on Rue d'Avignon. Yes, the street our lodging was on was barricaded. What to do? On the right we were fifty yards from the Ouveze River and on the left was a  mountain.  But ingenuity and French hospitality paid off.  My tavelmate found a real estate office with two great  women who drew a map on the back of advertising flyers to show us the way. We checked into Hotel la Bastid de Vaison about nightfall. Thank God for French women!   I have said this before for a different reason, which I won't go into now.


Our temporary abode had been used for processing olive oil and was built in the 13th century.  It was quite charming and comfortable as well.  Our host was very helpful and we were quite pleased since we had booked this lodging online without the benefit of the English language. The morning sun came into the room at dawn, and through the window you could see the vineyard on the hillside and the big furry white cat peering in at us. We ventured down two floors to the breakfast prepared by the innkeeper. We don't often eat at our lodging, but this was a considerable distance from town.  Coffee and fresh croissants as usual.  I love 'em.  The patio was bursting with colorful flowers and plants making it difficult to leave the inn.  But there were Roman ruins to be seen.

Soon we were enjoying one of the true benefits of Vaison la Romaine: free parking. Free parking is a rarity in France except in very small villages. But here in Vaison la Romaine not only was it free, but was located across the street from the Tourist Information Office at place da Chanoine Sautel and between the two sites of Roman ruins. This was the first of the often lauded in the guidebooks tourist Information Offices we had found open. So we stood in line to get our map of the city, to find out where to get fuel for our car,  and where the laundry was. And, of course, information about local attractions.  The lady was extremely helpful, although it seems that every place you would want to go to in which ever town you're in is always "ten minutes away".  Vaison la Romaine is made of two towns Villa Basse and Ville Haute.  Ville Basse being the lower town and Ville Haute the other.  The ruins are located in the lower town.


We bought our tickets to see the Roman ruins and entered through the gates.  We walked to the top of the hill through the ruins to get to a very modern museum exhibiting ancient relics.  Like all the museums we visited in France this one was first class. We paid eight euros each for a map of the ruins and an audio guide in English. Out of the museum we went to discover the 2,000 year old ruins of a town. Only a small portion of it is visible while the rest is still buried under the current city. Here you can walk among the ruins of houses  and see what's left of the walls, gardens, baths, and kitchens of the Roman homes. Wall frescoes are still visible, and we walked on mosaic floors that were over 2000 years old. To me it was interesting to see how the water system worked, supplying in fresh water and taking away waste water.  On one site is a 6,000 seat amphitheater which is used today.  The population of this city in the first century was 6,000 and that is the current population.  However, after the barbarians ran the Romans out, the population declined and has only recently reached its current level. The audiotours are indispensable  for the enjoyment of the ruins.  After visiting the Puymin site we ventured across the street to La Villasse, the other site.  Your ticket has a code which is used to open the gate to this site since there is not a caretaker on site. This has more shops and fewer residences. 

After a bit of lunch it was time to do some chores. We normally do laundry every three days or so, and we had put it off long enough. Of course the laundry was only "ten minutes away", but it took a little longer to find.  The coin operated machines would not take our coins.  (Some things never change regardless of country.)  But my clever wife, with the help of another customer, found the owner and they solved the problem.  While my travel mate was doing laundry I found a gas station and topped off the tank of the Peugeot.  It was kind of frustrating because the pump would not take my credit card and I had to go inside to pay while the waiting line at the pump grew. 

 After the chores were done we were going to dinner in Ville Haute which was the medieval town on the mountain the other side of the river. We crossed the Roman bridge and drove up to the restaurant, an Italian one recomended by our innkeeper.  But, alas, it had not opened for dinner, so we decided to walk around the town. It had the narrow steep streets lined with stone houses.  Flowers seemed to be bursting from every available spot of soil. There is nothing very notable here, but the cobbled streets and many fountains are a delight to behold. It was the onset of evening as people were enjoying dinner, and you could hear laughter and the clink of glasses through open doors and window. As we walked past an open window we heard the voice of a four-year-old, saying  " Bonjour!".  He was a cute little fellow.  Throughout the town there are large black and white photographs of people in the windows of vacant buildings.  From the chateau, which was build in 1195, we walked down to the restaurant where we had left our car and enjoyed a great meal while watching the lights come on in Ville Basse.  Incidently, the people from Ville Basse always retreated  to Ville Haute when attacked by barbarians as the high ground is always easier to defend.


Couldn't help using a little
Photoshop magic!
We had enjoyed our stay in Vaison la Romaine and were continually surprised at the number of Roman ruins in France.

May 3, 2011

Unsold at Garage Sale

At our garage yard sale there was one item we were unable to get rid of.  This trunk.  We sold two others but not this camel-topped trunk.  There is something about the look of them I like.  Or maybe it reminds me of pirate treasure chests. At any rate I was happy when no one would buy it.  Could I restore it?  It would make a handsome piece. Would it be beyond my skill level?  Could be. Having a professional do the job was out of the question economically.  And, I might add, I was not receiving any enthusiastic support from the other member of the household.  However, throwing caution to the wind I set out to undertake the project with certain budgetary constraints.

My dad and I had found in an out building of our family's original homestead.  The farm house dated from before 1860 and the trunk was about that old.  Maybe.  It is 16 inches tall and 30 inches long and 15 inches front to back and is made of pine and has tincorners,  tin covering and some leather handles.


In the above photo details of the damages are seen. Noted clockwise beginning at 12 o'clock.
  • The embossed tin covering is rusted and has holes in it.
  • Sever damage to the embossed tin.
  • This photo shows the detail of the embossing.
  • This lock or latch must be replaced.
  • This photo shows the distressed corner. Wood and metal must be replaced.
  • Strap caps must be replaced.
  • Unseen are the hinges  and stays that also must be replaced.


Looks like I've got my work cut out for me!

Apr 28, 2011

Patefacio Vestri Libri

We said goodbye to our hosts at the Stables Bed and Breakfast near Newcastle and were in search of Hadrian's Wall. Our host had said it was easy to find. After all it was 74 miles long and stretched the breadth of England. Via a few small signs and a bit of luck we found it. O,r at least a part of it. We parked the little Benz by the side of the country lane and read the historical placard about the wall before crossing the fence for the short walk uphill to the wall remains.
Crossing the fence was an easy chore because there was a stairway. I don't think that I'd seen anything like it elsewhere. The British seem to make all historical sites easily accessible, and it was only about a fifty yard walk to the ruins.  After yesterday's walk up to Durham's cathedral this was a break!  It was a beautiful morning with the sun shining, the grass green and sheep bleating softly.

Hadrian's Wall, built about 122 A.D., and would you believe that Hadrian was the Roman emperor at that time?  The wall is 74 miles long and was designed to keep the Picks of Scotland out of England or restrict the movement of the people within the wall. The Picks were the blue-faced barbarian ancestors of Braveheart and perhaps me.  The wall was constructed of stone for the most part and twelve feet high.  There were forts at 5000 foot intervals called mileforts and turrets between the mileforts.  We were looking at one of the turrets.  Over one thousand years ago roman soldiers were standing here armed with spears, shields and swords. From this point they maintained the security of the  massive Roman Empire. This was the frontier and I was standing in their foot steps.  Once manned by soldiers from throughout the Empire, Spainards, Greeks, or North Africans, the wall was later manned by local Britons. The construction of this part of the wall is stone; some 30 odd miles are of earth.  Indeed Roman stone quarries are found along the length of the stone portion of the wall, and there are deposites of lime nearby for making concrete, the building material invented by the Romans. But this morning there is no rattling of weapons, just the soft bleating of sheep and the joyous laughter of a two-year-old  tumbling is the soft green grass. There is a family of mom, dad, children, and grandpa visiting the site as well, and I, lost in my thoughts of ancient soldiers, stand in awe of the achievement of Roman engineers.  Only one caveat at this site: watch out for the sheep dung!

Apr 27, 2011

I Have Reached the Heights of Outdoor Cookery!

I think that outdoor cooking is a guy thing. That's always who's doing it in the comic strips, and comic strips reflect life. Right? I'm sure that when we light that campfire, barbeque grill, or habachi we're thinking of cowboys around the campfire with beans in a pot over the fire and a half side of beef on the spit.   Or maybe a cracklin' fire under that skillet of fresh trout with the sound of that fast moving mountain stream nearby.  Some of my cooking has been a solitary effort, and some a group activity.

As I reach back into my memory for the first time I cooked anything outdoors it was probably when my buddy, Jimmy and I went camping. Of course we were about 9 or 10 years old and unrolled our sleeping blankets within a quarter mile of the farmhouse where I lived. Well, we cooked up some eggs and they stuck to the skillet.  But Jimmy told me that the way to clean the skillet was to scrub it with sand, and wash it out with water.  It got it clean, sort of. The next batch of eggs were kind of gritty.  But that was okay when you're having a great adventure.

Of course one of the first things you cook in the backyard or over a campfire are weiners on the end of a wire coathanger straightened out. There's something primitive about how that piece of meat gets all charred and crunchy.  And, you can eat it right off the wire. That's the way I like mine.

I do remember some group cooking in which I was only an observer.  When I was about seven years old I went to a hash cookin' with my father.  It seems that he would get together with some of his relatives every year and cook a pot of hash for the annual family reunion.  They would have at least two washpots for cooking.  Washpots were used in the olden days to boil clothes in for washing, but they were good for cooking, too. They would fill the pots with pork and a little beef with potatoes and seasonings and cook it all night long.  The meat eventually would literally fall apart,  or would with very little shredding.  My cousin and I would listen to the grown-ups' stories and tales  in the flickering firelight.  Much as we fought it, we would finally fall asleep.  The next day the hash would be served up in little cardboard trays with pickles and white sliced bread, and we would pig-out.

I learned to grill burgers and barbecue chicken.  I get a little impatient with chicken and cook it in the oven for about forty-five minutes before finishing it up on the grill. Steak and pork grilled are some of my favorites. Chicken on a stick is also one of my favorites, as well as bratwurst.  I would never put a brat on the grill before first cooking it in beer, preferably a dark.  And never puncture the brat and let out all that delicious juice.

I first started using a dutch oven when I was a Scout leader. I have a spider Dutch oven.  It' a big iron pot with legs on it and a flat lid to hold the charcoal on top. A dutch oven can be used to bake anything that you can bake in a conventional oven.  I've baked cake, cornbread, biscuits, coblers, and meatloaf in my dutch oven and used it as a big pot to make chicken bog. By the way, they're called dutch ovens because German peddlers sold them.  The Germans spoke "Deutch", pronounced "dutch" by the locals.

We camp a lot.  We've made two coast-to-coast trips and camped along the way. This calls for outdoor cooking, since we are tent campers. Some times we buy fresh produce at local markets.  I made some great corn chowder when we bought some fresh sweet corn in Wisconsin.  I cooked chicken and dumplings beside the Rogue River in Oregon.  Unfortunately, I  had to use Bisquick (I prefer scratch-made.) for the dumplings, but they were good.  My travelmate had picked fresh berries down by the river and made some blackberry dumplings, and I learned from her how to make the dumplings.

One of my favorite methods of cooking is smoking. This is a wet smoke rather than dry smoke.  Dry smoke is used for curing meat for preservation. I use a small smoker that uses charcoal for a heat source.  Over the years I have smoke cooked salmon, chicken, and turkey.  Smoke imparts a unique flavor to the meat that is cooked at a low temperature over a long period of time. The addition of various varieties of wood chips such as apple, pecan, or cherry imparts those flavors to the meat subtlety.   Which brings me to the height of outdoor cookery.

Recently, while in France, I frequently ate duck and liked it.  I had only ordered it once in a resturant here.  I decided that my next cooking project would be smoked duck.  The local Publix supermarket had just the duck I needed.  It weighed in at 4.2 lbs.  From the internet I got a recipe and went to work.  The basting liquid was of made up of orange zest, orange juice, rice wine, rice vinegar, fresh grated ginger, and some other stuff.  I filled the drip pan on the smoker and started the first batch of charcoal.  I basted it once per hour for six hours and continued to add charcoal (I used almost an entire bag.) to keep the temperature up to about 200 degrees. Mesquite wood chips that had been soaked in water were added to generate a smokey mesquite flavor. When the meat thermometer read about 160 degrees I took the duck off the smoker, and the skin was a golden brown.  It had taken  about five and one half hours to cook the duck. The skin was crispy, and the meat had a hint of the basting sauce and a touch of mesquite. It was tender and juicy. This was the best tasting meat I have ever cooked.  Duck gets a  bad rep for being greasy, but this was not the case. I served it up with canelli bean salad and mashed sweet pototoes.

I am sure I will never cook anything better than this duck!