Saturday, April 2, 2016

Extras at Every Meal

The Miranda/Richard Johnson house next door was filled with company today.  Steve, the old renter, came buy in the morning for crepes.  Kelve was there at noon and he had lunch: cold spaghetti.  I was there for breakfast, snack time and supper.  Alice likes to share her snacks ... sometimes.

 ... we roast the mini marshmallows now ...
gone are the days of gigantic white marshmallows 

turning to charcoal ...

Now the mini marshmallows turn to charcoal.
The supper has somewhat ruined my former delight which was going to Costco for fries and a hot dog.

Richard roasted deer sausage in the evening over an open fire on the most minimalist of BBQ equipment:  a grate had been placed over the coals of the afternoon fire.

He did have to turn the sausages over, a daring feat considering he did it with his bare fingers.

He carefully watched the internal temperature of the sausage.

We had to wait until it reached 160 degrees.  Alice could hardly stand to have the minutes tick by so slowly.

But oh the taste! The perfect blend of spices.  The sausages are so lean that there is never any sizzle of fat dripping into the fire as they are roasting, nor any residue of fat on the serving platter.

I can hardly wait to see who is going to drop in tomorrow for a meal.  For sure I will be there, hoping for a repeat of today's meals.



  1. That marshmallow tastes burnt! No fire ban yet?

  2. You are right that the fire ban is on in B.C.

    But we are in Alberta, and around a cinder brick pit in Richard's back yard. He says that we are running out of wood, and that is the reason our fires will become fewer and far between.

    Re the burned marshmallow? Isn't that how they are supposed to be? Burned? And if you use mini-ones, you get the feeling of volume, if not substance. Really how many mini's can you roast at one fire-pit? We haven't counted yet. Nor have we run out of marshmallows.