Locavore---The Start of Consuming what has been Laid By

As of tonight, the fresh food from the garden has all been consumed. The last holdouts consisted of chard and Kale, both capable of sucking up some pretty serious frost. In fact, I suspect kale could actually be buried in the leaves and pried out during most of the winter. Maybe next year I'll give that the big try.

One of the great things about these late leaves is they get much sweeter after the first frost, rather like grapes. Must be there is some advantage in storing sugar, or is it just a shift in metabolism that does it without cause. Damned if I know but makes for some chin lickin' good greens. Boiled is great on those suckers but they can be, both kale and chard, pan-fried in bacon grease. Now mind you, the bacon has to be local which in reality is not real hard. Hey, it is about being a locavore. I don't need no stinking Canadian bacon, or hoity-toity French side. This is Amer-ka and I want my hog from down the road, sucker.

 So tonight we chose red potatoes from this year's garden. Now, I did notice that they are starting to sprout just a touch but most of the reds are now tucked away in our collective gullets so it will be on to the Russets. Once those puppy's are gone, it will be back to the Irish experience. Shit, I have a hundred pounds, so like dude, I am home free and will make it through one more year.

To cover the tubers, I have chosen a half pound of venison burger just created a week ago, right out of the meat from this yearling doe I obtained from tip from a friend who by chance had noticed this inanimate carcass by the road. It had been subjected to inappropriate, unexpected vehicular contact. While the hind quarter was a touch blood shot, everything else was prime, and I mean prime. Oh, I did leave the tender loin as the vehicular contact had left the innards scrambled, so I didn't really want to go in there.

The most exciting aspect of this local meal was the beer. You heard me right. The beer was made from barley secured from Merv the farmer. I had gone off beggin' for some of his harvest and there right in front of my face was a handy 200 lb bag all ready to be malted. Did it, malted a ten pound batch, dried it professional like in the oven, then in it went to the beer batch. Alcohol seems to be around 6% so with a few under the belt, the evening will be most mellow, dude. Love being a locavore. Cost of meal---virtually nothing particularly if I had cooked it over the wood burning cook stove.

This is a real Thanksgiving. Oh I had to work at getting the stuff but that was all fun and worthy, as my father-in-law used to say. I give thanks believe me. (Nice find lady!)