Jed, The Joads, & Me

I didn't strike gold, or get blown west by dark dust bowl clouds, but in the Fall of 2017 I made pretty much the same migration as the Clampett's, Woody Guthrie, and Faulkner's famous family.

Texas to California

Most people that know would say me and Texas fit together like boots and jeans, but sometimes life takes us all places we never thought we'd go. Sometimes things fall apart so better things can come along, and make no mistake that my life is better out here in Southern California than it was back in the windy Texan Panhandle.

My journey started way back  in the fifth grade but of course I had no idea back then that it would lead me to the Golden State. I met Connie in Mrs. Davis's class. She hadn't gone to elementary school with me before then because she lived in a neighboring district but her old school did not have an Enriched Learners program so she transferred over to Oakdale. We had no whirlwind puppy love romance, but we were friends until her family moved to California our seventh grade year.

More than two decades later we reconnected through the powers of social media. This eventually led to me and my two boys moving west and it has been great for us all.

Food, Funk, & a Few Folks 

I am told I have an accent but if you ask me I sound just like everyone else. Nevertheless, the first question I get asked is, "Where are your from?" Guesses range from Arkansas, to Georgia, Tennesee and often Louisiana probably because I often wear a New Orleans Saints cap. (By the way if you are reading this Roger Goodell you and your corrupt NFL officials all suck. I stick by my theory that the NFL Commissioner caught some venereal disease from a Bourbon Street prostitute during a bygone Super Bowl in the city and has held a private grudge agasint my beloved Saints ever since)

But I digress.

The second question I get asked is, "What do you miss most about Texas?"

My mom tops that list, but she is finally coming out to visit at the end of the month. Friends are also on the list but the power of social media and with a few visits back and forth and it is not hard to maintain those relationships. 

Live Music is not quite the same beyond my cherished Texas dive bars, but I have found a number of cool venues, including The Cave up in the mountains at Big Bear, which hands out warm pork rinds as you wait in line to get inside. 

Little-by-little immersing myself the the Southern California Music scene. I have also been fortunate enough to see Kris Kristofferson, John Prine, and a few other of my longtime favorites that simply do not play in or around Amarillo.




That brings us to food.

Man oh man do I miss Texas cooking. Not always, because I have my smoker and grill and to stoke my own wood box I can cook up some damn tasty meat. Good thing too, because what passes for BBQ out here in California is a damn shame.  

Tex-Mex is few and far between, but the chain Cafe Rio does the subgenre justice and they easily have the best queso I have found in the state.

Californians do love their avocado this and mango that. And for the love of Gad stop putting fruit in sweet tea. Raspberry, passion, watermelon. All of that shit is perfume water not suitable for hydration. McCalisters Deli can you please bring your southern sweet tea to SoCal?

And don't even get me started on quality french fries. The venerable Golden Light Cafe in Old Route 66 in Amarillo, Blue Sky, and Coyote Bluff all serve up a hand-cut style of fry that might as well be a Brontosaurus in California. 

In-n-Out is not Whataburger. I don't hate their small little round burgers, but I have to eat two if I want to be satisfied, And their bland fries are palatable, when dipped in the imported salty greatness that is Whataburger ketchup.

I have railed enough for today, but soon I will be back to highlight the things I love most about my life here in So Cal. 

 

 

THE MEAT #1 ... Eh!

Time to pay homage to the name change of this here blog.

Let's talk about meaty goodness, dark ales, and writers from north of the border.

It pains me a little to write this, but fact of the matter is, the satisfying piece of meat I've ever eaten was not cooked here in the great state of Texas. Or for that matter ingested within the borders of the Lone Star State.

Let me set the scene. We'd been walking for hours. now y'all know I'm a particular eater. Far from what you would call exotic. So as we trudged along World Showcase at Disney's Epcot in Florida I was in sort of a dilemma. I ate some meat nachos in Mexico but it was slim pickin's after that.

Norway, China, Germany, Italy.

I had a few beers to tide me over and when we hit the American showcase the Turkey legs didn't look bad but it had only been a  few hours since those nachos and I had some good German beer sloshing around in my belly so we walked on.

Japan then Morocco.

We shopped around. Watched a few shows. Me and the genie from Aladdin compared goatees.

My wife bought some quiche at France. What the hell is quiche anyway? This shit was wicked green from I think spinach.

At the UK I had another beer and was in line for fish and chips when I heard people talkign about a steakhouse in Canada.

Steak!

Hell yeah!

That's what I'm talking about.
I couldn't get there fast enough but my wife wanted to look at a tea shop and other stuff in England so my gut growled on. it had been hours since those Mexican nachos and frankly they were not all that hot to begin with.

We finally get to said steak dubbed Le Cellier only to be told there was an hour wait. I didn't care. I was willign to camp out right there in canada and wait. hell by that point if they'd asked me to don a beaver pelt speedo and shout "I LOVE CANADIAN BACON!" I would have done it as long as there was a hunk of hot beef waiting for me afterward.

So we finally get in and seated and I look at the menu. Oh there is meat aplenty but every last bit says it has been marinated in some kind of maple concoction. I'm immediately thinking syrup and I'm tired, hungry and grouchy so it pisses me off. What the hell is wrong with these damn Canadian, I mean I could forgive them for being confused what bacon is because there idea of it is pretty damn good atop pizza but maple syrup has no place in a steakhouse. I was worried they didn't know the difference between a Waffle House and Sizzlin' Sirloin.

So I asked the waitress if I could have a steak any steak devoid of their maple marinade. She shook her ehad. We marinate everything the day before. We don't have steaks on hand that are not already. I don't know where the Disney people store there steaks. maybe they are all finely aged in Goofy's underwear. What I did know was that I was starving so I said fine bring me the bone-in 20oz ribeye, medium rare.

They served that sucker with a giant maple leaf right on top. yes that pissed me off all the more.  I scraped off the offending vegetation and dipped one tine of a fork into the juice atop the steak.

I tasted it.

A hint of maple but not in anyway sweet or syrupy.

Huh.

I sliced a small piece. The beef melted in my mouth. That damn marinade was actually good. Subtle. Didn't overpower the beefy flavor but added to it. The steak was cooked to perfection and damned if it wasn't the most satisfying steak I've eaten even now. That was 1998.

I have been back to Le Cellier several times since but they changed their menu and the steaks are no longer marinaded int he same thing nor served with a maple leaf on top. They are still tasty but not as tasty. If any of my Canadian friend knows where I could acquire said marinade I'd be forever indebted.

Now to my favorite Canadian beer.

Trois Pistoles Dark Belgian Ale brewed by Unibroue of Quebec Canada. Here in my area it comes in both a four pack and 750 ML bottle. It pours dark (cola colored) and has a milk chocolate colored head. It has a malty sweetness with just a hint of spices not entirely different from a good spiced rum. A smooth beer for as dark as it is and it leaves a nice warm sensation in your chest as a good dark ale should.

There are many talented and famous Canadian writers. Yann Martel, Margaret Atwood, and Alice Munro.

There is my good friend Joanne Brothwell who write paranormal romance.

But my favorite Canadian author is Holly Kennedy because she writes books that make me say, "Dang, I wish I wrote that." Her novels The Tin Box, The Silver Compass, The Penny Tree all inspired me to keep writing Women's fiction. Check out both her and her work. You won't be sorry.

**************

Now to today's lyrics. Remember if you can identify even one set of these lyrics you have a chance to win a Kindle copy of TWISTED ROADS at release day. Sticking with the theme of this post think Canada.

               #7

Someday I'll get over you  
I'll live to see it all through  
But I'll always miss dreaming my dreams with you

              #8

I left her where I found her
And I walked off with a gun
I was half cocked and loaded
I went lookin for someone

             #9


We hit the road feelin’ cool as Crosby, Stills and Nash
Overflowin’ with the spirit and the bible on the dash