The Hunt

The Flying "P"

Kill Em and Eat Em in the Country

The Flying "P" Ranch was our home for the last 24 hours. It was exactly as I expected....100% TEXAS. Marilyn and Denny are the owners, and they live, breathe, and speak just as you'd imagine for middle-America country folk. Marilyn is 63 with 'big' hair, full make-up, and a super sweet southern accent. She loves baking and shoots a Berreta over-and-under shotgun. Her husband, Denny, is 77 and is a soft spoken, tall, ex-alcoholic, big-game-hunter who lives simple, drives a big truck, and prides himself on his (many) mounts. The food they served up was just as I expected as well: steak, potatoes and buttered rolls. There was a salad too that was in a bath of Italian dressing and to wash it all down was some homemade Sweet Tea. For dessert was fresh baked blueberry cobbler, sugar cookies and some snicker doodle brownies. Yum, middle America! After supper we sat by the fire, enjoyed some hunting tales and then tucked ourselves into bed a little after 9pm.

We woke up to a winter wonderland. I wasn't even aware that weather like this happened around these parts- but to see it is to believe it. We were in the middle of an ice storm, with below freezing temperatures and steady falling sleet. Hunting didn't look like it was going to be much fun, and I felt grateful that I wasn't a part of the birding adventure...feeling perfectly content to sit by the fire with my book. As everyone sipped their coffee and ate breakfast (which was a spread of Bob Evans microwaveable burritos, sausage and biscuits, sweet buns, and instant cinnamon apple oatmeal) the sleet stopped and the weather stilled a bit. Hunting was on! Mom, Andy and Bobby (the hunting guide) bundled up and headed out into the fields with the dogs, a Brittany and a German short hair. I got to sit in the warm truck with the old man Denny for a bit and witness the excitement and managed to snap a few photos. I'm not much for hunting, but I have a huge respect for hunting and gathering your own food- an appreciation that I learned from my Dad who was the ultimate Renaissance man- always providing for our family. Also, to watch a dog move on their pure instinct, doing as nature intended, is beautiful. After snapping a few shots we headed back to the warm house and waited for the hunt to finish up. They got back with a full bounty, windburned cheeks, and smiles from ear to ear. They relived the hunt over cookies and ice cold beer, and the shit-talking continued until we packed up the car to head home.

Southern hospitality is as real and inviting as the hot buttered biscuits they serve up down here. Marilyn and Denny never treated us as customers, but instead as family. When we left, hugs were given out and I swear to you that the hug I got from Marilyn was warmer and more sincere than those I've gotten from my own family members. I look forward to the next time we come out to the ranch...I'll just be sure to pack some vegetables for myself....

My Dad

Yesterday was Father's Day...and I gotta say that I have a pretty phenomenal Dad. A person of epic proportions. He knows more about everything than anyone I know. He's absolutely insane, intensely obsessive, completely hysterical, skilled beyond belief, enthusiastic to boot, and the loudest person that I know. He was born into an Irish Catholic family...7 sisters and 2 brothers. This probably explains why he guards his plate at dinner, speaks LOUD and FAST, and knows how to survive in the wild {my Nan would lock all 10 outside for the day so she could get some peace and quiet...}. His mantra is "Kill 'Em and Eat 'Em"...and that he does. I grew up thinking that meat wasn't purchased at the store...funny, I know, but true. I thought that lobsters came in huge bags, deer hung in the garage walk-in box, and that everyone had pigs in their backyards...fattening em up for slaughter. My Dad was a "green" farmer before being organic was the cool thing to do. We had a half acre of fruits, veggies, berries and herbs. My mom said that my Dad would have all of the bugs he'd find in the garden under jars on the kitchen table. He'd study them until he found out what they were, whether they were good or bad, and how to get rid of them {without harmful pesticides}. I still remember my little fisher-price wheelbarrow. I wanted to help my Dad so I would take my wheelbarrow (with a built in water-holder w/ hose) into the garden and water the plants. I would pull the hose out of the wheelbarrow, water the plant, put the hose back into the wheelbarrow, wheel forward about 4 inches, put the wheelbarrow back down and repeat. Ha. It was rather counterproductive though, because once I was finished I would waddle down the strawberry patch and stuff my face with every red, ripe strawberry there was. I don't think that my parents ate one of those strawberry's the whole time that the patch existed.... Yep, even back then I loved food. When I was a kid my Dad was a fisherman and my mother was a waitress. When Mom would work at the restaurant my Dad would watch me. Most of the home-video we have from my childhood were from the days and nights my Dad watched me...and 90% of that is film of me eating, and my Dad laughing in the background. "Chubby child, stuffing food into face as quickly as possible"...then he'd zoom into the floor, where everything that had missed my mouth had fallen.



My Dad may be crazy, but he does live by a set of morals, or codes. He knows a good person when he meets them, he is generous with his time, knowledge and goods -- he is always, always learning something new, and he loves my mom as much now as he did back in the day. It always seems like jokes and laughter with my Dad, but the few times I've been in a bit of a hard place, he always knows exactly what to say. His wisdom has gotten me through several trying times, but one of my favorites was this.... he said "Cailin, life is like a river. It's going to bend right, then left, and it's going to rage with water and sometimes run dry. You can't control any of it, all you can control is how you react to situations and how you handle yourself. And that's all that matters."

Paul Callahan is a nose-walking, trash-talking, loud-mouth, know-it-all sonofabitch, and he's my Dad. Happy Father's Day Dad!

Fathers Day Gift:
Kill Em and Eat Em
handcarved plaque from Dominical, Costa Rica

FEAST.

FEAST.
With my family, there is no such thing as "eating light".

As some of you may know, three of my great friends from Costa Rica are visiting. They have been in NYC for the past few days, and today Shawn and I will be picking them up at the bus station in Philly before heading to {a VERY rainy} Buffet Show. Of course, the main concern amongst my family and I is "WHAT will we be FEEDING our fabulous friends"?? I received an email at 8am this morning from my mom -- a 'guideline' of what's to eat during their time here. Ha - and don't you know it, I have an outline that I wrote out taped to my fridge as well! I'm going to take them to Mallone's one morning for their famous sticky buns, make them my delicious 'green scramble', fresh bagels from Avalon Coffee, and I'm going to percolate their coffee to perfection! Some of the things that my mom has on the menu are: clams casinos, salad, jersey corn and tomatoes {they are like nothing you've had anywhere else}, deer burgers, a huge pot of chili, deer meat and homemade french fries one night - fresh fish another, a night out to visit me at Mildreds...and of course, the sacrificial pig!! AND TURTLE! Ha. My dad is going to be killing another one of the pigs {he killed the first one, Sean, about 2 weeks ago} and have a big roast! Here are some photos from the last pig dinner:

the chef and i.

Dr. Mary Schmeltzer eyeing up the next piece of pork she's going to snatch up...

Dad's new pig roaster...you put the hot coals on TOP.

MmMMMmmmMMmM...PORK!

This is the turtle that is going to make us a delicious batch of Snapper Soup!

Did I mention that Mom and Dad went to Joe Canal's and bought $600 worth of booze?? So even if it DOES rain every single day they are here, like the forecasts are calling for, we will be fat and happy...and drunk.

PURA VIDA.