Boise 70.3 2013 Race Report

Having spent 245 hours training for a roughly 6 hour event, it was with some anticipation that I set off with my wife for Boise's 70.3 half ironman event.  I decided to take the day off work on Friday (June 7) so we drove a little over half way on Thursday evening, before rolling into Boise about noon on Friday.  In fact. there is no way to actually race for me without taking Friday off since all athletes must register by 6pm Friday night.

The first thing we did was drive up to Luck Peak Reservoir to look around, as well as drive the bike route.  That was uneventful, but I knew that the wind would be a major factor the next day.  It was at 15 mph WNW, which is the overall direction of the point to point bike leg.  This means about 40% would be headwind, maybe 20% tailwind, with the rest some kind of crosswind.  

After checking in to the hotel, we walked downtown to check in.  Turns out that the mandatory athlete briefing isn't mandatory.  We skipped the vendor stalls and merchandise extravaganza, and went back to Lucky Peak to check my bike in.  We would have planned a little better, but we didn't know you couldn't take your bike on the shuttles the next morning until we read the registration docs more closely.    After that, we took in a movie, had dinner, and (after I had organized my transition bags) went to sleep.  

Race Morning

Waiting for shuttles to the swim start 

We woke up at a leisurely 8am. In an unhurried way, we got everything ready and then my wife ran me over the bridge to T2 to drop off my run bag. We then drove back to the hotel, and walked back over to wait for the shuttles in front of T2.

Seeing no reason to rush up to Lucky Peak, we lounged in the shade while kind of waiting in line for the shuttles.  In the end, a shortage of shuttle runs got us to Lucky Peak only 15 minutes before T1 was supposed to close.  This didn't concern me too much, but my friend from Pullman who was also racing was none too pleased.  I got things set up on my bike, grabbed my "morning clothes bag" and walked over to the throngs on the shore.
 I yanked my wetsuit on, and dropped my morning clothes bag into the appropriate bin.  By this time, the pros had already gone off, and everyone was waiting around for their heat to start.

Setting up T1

Most people were nervously chatting to pass the time, while keeping an eye on the pack of pros as they inched toward the first turn buoy in the distance.  Race volunteers with large placards queued up in front of the start gate in order of the start waves.  Each placard had the cap for that wave taped on it, as well as the wave number (mine was "8", fluorescent green).  Sooner than I thought, a pack of green-capped lemmings was meandering down to the water behind our placard.  I fell into formation, popping earplugs in and dutifully donning the green cap.  The water felt predictably cold (temp reported at 58f) but after the initial shock, I wouldn't think about the temperature again during the entire swim.  As we fluttered out to the start buoy, the race announcer called 30 seconds.  My 35-39 year old A-J compatriots began tossing about wishes for a good race, and the horn sounded.

The Swim

My swim wave starts as some pros (in red caps) finish

Prior to my first open water swim effort, I had imagined the swim would be something others dreaded, and I loved.  After trying it a couple of times in training, I realized there is something unexpected that happens when you fold yourself into a neoprene suit, jump into a cold puddle, and swim for a half an hour.  I'd describe my experience as a nagging claustrophobic anxiety that just tells me it'd be better to stop swimming.  Nothing major, but unpleasant.  I'd also heard horror stories about the swim start, most of which can be summed up by this youtube video.

For whatever reason, I had absolutely no issues with the "washing machine". I started toward the front of the group, put my head down, and swam.  Perhaps because of the adrenaline, I didn't feel much anxiety either, which was great.  About 5 minutes into the swim, I pulled up for a minute to observe, and saw only 3 green caps, and a few from a previous wave we were overtaking.  Sticking with these three fellows, I rounded the first buoy.  Thereafter, the swell picked up considerably, and I found myself breathing on the left a lot. I sucked down a few unwelcome gulps of lake water while fighting the chop, but it really wasn't too bad.  I drafted perhaps 20% of the time off a guy from my wave, and that felt good.  Rather than anxiety, while about 700 yards out from shore, I felt the surreal other-world-ness of the inky water and the brown sage brush shoreline wash over me.  I thought to myself, "truly, doing this race is one of the strangest behaviors recorded in human history.  What the hell am I doing here?  What is the sequence of events that has transpired that landed me in this lake in the middle of Idaho?".

After negotiating the 2nd turn buoy, I headed home, drafting a little more, and thinking about getting out of the water.  Upon pulling up to the ramp, I tried to stand, whiffed (the water was too deep) and had to flail around to get closer before stumbling out.  I was a little gassed, but not too bad.  I knew a few others from my wave had come in ahead of me, but not many (it turned out to be 5).  I'd find out later my split was 35:15.

While walking up the ramp to my bike, I spotted my wife.  Knowing that she would snap an obligatory photo, I gamely broke into a trot, and smiled.

I made use of the excellent wetsuit strippers, and headed off to find my bike.

The Bike

Transition went fine, although it was a little slow as I tried to spray sunscreen on myself.  Soon enough, I was clopping out to the "bike mount" area, not being cool enough to execute the flying squirrel bike mounting technique.  Once on the bike, I settled into a rhythm, and began to eat and drink at regular intervals.

My fueling strategy was pretty simple.  I squeezed 10 gel packs into a water bottle the night before, diluted it with a little water, and carried it on an x-lab wing behind my saddle.  I had a throw-away water bottle in the other cage, and 3 stinger waffles in a pocket on the back of my tri suit.  I also had some salt tablets that I took as a precaution as the temperatures were in the high 80's.

The heat combined with the headwind made for a challenging bike ride.  For me, the struggle was to keep my effort low enough that my heart rate would stay in the right range.  That entailed just accepting that I wasn't going as fast as I did in training.  It's a little hard to explain, but that's frustrating.  That said, the bike ride itself was my favorite part of the race, especially the turn-around leg that wound its way through fields and small rollers.

Still, it was clear to me that I have a lot of improving to do on the bike.  I was routinely passed by athletes like I was standing still, to the point that it seemed mind-boggling that they could generate such wattage.  I often heard the hollow rumble of a disk wheel in my left ear as the uber-bikers came up behind me and sprinted past.  Even after the turn-around, I was surprised at how many speedy cyclists kept coming - I can only assume those guys swam elementary backstroke.

Although I wasn't fast on the hills, they weren't particularly difficult - I just kept my heart rate around 160 and did them.  I don't think the course was particularly hilly, but some people did. When we turned off the highway, and back toward the downtown, I was feeling tired but still ok.

Throughout the bike, I had just watched my heart rate and cadence, not total time.  I didn't want to concern myself with it, but with a few miles left, I glanced at it - 2:52.  That was a let down.  Nothing to do but keep pedaling, though, and I coasted down the last hill and into T2.  Later I'd find my bike time was 2:59.

The Run

Transition was again fine - uneventful and relatively fast.  I started running unsure about how much energy I would have.  My plan was to start at 8:15/mile for the first couple, and then try to put in more effort and get faster.  This wasn't in the cards.  I did start out ok, but soon was sucking wind and fighting with myself to keep running.  The aid stations helped, but the heat seemed to clamp down on me, and I was frequently parched between stations.  A nice lady from St. George talked with me for a mile or so on the first loop.  She mentioned having done a number of half-ironman distance races, and seemed to be doing well.  She was faster than me, and I wished her luck before dropping back.  I've heard some guy triathletes refer to the humiliation of getting "chicked" but I was pretty sure there'd be lots of women who were faster than me (I think there were 80 or so).  During the run, one red-headed lady who was about 4'6" cruised past me at roughly twice my pace.

Eventually I settled on walking through the aid stations, dumping water on my head, downing some sports drink, and dumping some ice down my tri suit. That last part wasn't without consequence, as some ice slipped through from my back to, shall we say, places that are not my back. I really didn't care, though.  I was just trying to put one foot in front of the other at that point.

I completed the first loop and went back out for the second.  I did latch on to some guy that seemed to be going the same pace as I wanted to.  That lasted for 3 or so miles.  The run course itself is really nice - much of it is shaded, and it winds along next to the river.  Still, it was a tough slog.  On the second lap especially, I had no legs.  I couldn't even get my HR into zone 4 - it stayed in the low 170's for most of the time, whereas I can almost always push it into the 180's at will.  Only after emerging from a tunnel and making a left hand turn onto the final straight away did I feel some happiness start to seep back in.  With the finish line in sight, I tried to speed up to little effect.  I finished with a run time of 2:02, and a total time of 5:44.

Sweaty and tired, I'm done

The Wrap Up

What are my take-aways from this race?  I guess there are more than a few.

1. It was fun and I'd like to do it again.  I wasn't sure right after I finished, but the next day I'd already decided I'd like to race another 70.3.  It's difficult to explain how it was fun - it just was.  
2. My cycling skills need major work.  I think I need to get maybe 50% more power than I have right now.  I need more training that focuses on building sustained power - I'm going to work on this for the next year.
3. In the swim, I need to be more disciplined about keeping my head down and swimming rather than pulling up to see what's going on.  If I used a regular system of strokes with sighting built in,  and practiced swimming for 15 minutes straight, that would help.  
4. I think I under-fueled, even though I thought that wasn't possible.  Looking back, I only took in about 1600 calories during the race.  I even realized this part way into the run, but was not even remotely interested in eating or drinking anything with calories.  It was a strange feeling.  
5. It's probably true that something always goes wrong.  In this case, the one condition I hadn't prepared for (heat) plus one that was just annoying (wind) combined to make me have a much slower time than I'd hoped for.  That made everybody slower too, but I think I could've felt stronger for the run if I hadn't battled the wind on the bike so much.
6. During the run, I might want to carry some water to use between aid stations if it's hot and dry.  It was surprising how many times I wished I had water when I didn't.  
7. Sunscreen - Application could've been more thorough, which left me with crescent-shaped burns on both shoulder blades.
8. Boise struck me as a great place to have the event.  I liked the city's suburban frontier vibe, even if the oversubscribed Broncos football franchise is a little annoying.  
9. I'd read this a lot going in, but all the rules about drafting, passing, blocking, etc. are really just for the pros.  I never got the impression that anyone was carefully looking for violators, and didn't ever see anyone serving a penalty.  I didn't see many people drafting, either, but it seemed common courtesy and etiquette were more relevant than rules when actually racing.

The Burnt Blade

70.3 in Retrospect

About 5 months ago, I registered for a half ironman distance triathlon. When I began, I couldn't actually spell "triathlon".  Now that I've finished that first race, I wanted to look back and reflect on the experience.  I'll go through the training and acquiring of triathlon paraphernalia in this post, and then report on the race in the 2nd post.

Why it Happened
I suppose the Economist magazine and the Almond Board had a hand in all this.  After going to the almond board national convention in Sacramento last December as an exhibitor, I sat stranded in a mostly deserted exhibit hall with 2 days of nothingness in front of me.  Although there was no way to know beforehand the conference would be a dud, it was.  Having recently decided that reading my way through the Economist's "Best Books of 2012" was a good way to become well-read, I chose the most attractive book on the list: Tyler Hamilton's "The Secret Race".  The book is a scathing indictment of the cycling establishment, as well as an engrossing tale of Hamilton's ascent to the highest echelon of the sport.  I decided I needed to get a bike and try it myself.  Having already fallen for swimming and running, I thought triathlon was the logical way to do this (I note here that true cyclists are loathe to be associated with triathletes).

What I Bought
Triathlon is first and foremost about money.  Many people will dispute this, but it's true.  The combination of a middle-aged demographic holding increased disposable income with a "slow twitch", equipment-laden sport that can be executed at high levels by middle-aged people is the reason triathlon exists.  On the advice of Josh, a triathlete friend of mine, I bought an aluminum road bike for $1500, and fitted it with clip-on aerobars.  A nice bike shop guy in Coeur d'Alene "fit" the bike for me, moving the seat forward and getting me in a more aerodynamic position.  I also bought pedals, shoes, a wetsuit, bike wheels, an indoor trainer, a new saddle, running shoes, a tri suit, sunglasses, an aero helmet, a swim watch, a 1 year membership on trainingpeaks.com, and a little device that functions as a power meter on my indoor trainer.  I'm mentioning only the items that cost over $100.  If all items were included, this list would go on indefinitely.  Luckily, I already had a Garmin 305 with heart rate strap.  I also bought "The Triathlete's Bible"- written by the pedantic Joe Friel.  This book helped me grasp many basics of triathlon, especially since it started as such a vast unknown.

How I Trained
I started by allocating the time I thought I could afford: 15 hours a week.  This time was split out by Joe's training plan into different workouts on different days, with the duration, intensity, and volume varying according to a "periodized" plan.  I knew cycling would be my biggest weakness, so I emphasized that in the training plan.  I started on December 30.  I hadn't gotten my bike yet, and bummed one off my brother to begin training in my downstairs.  I have a pool close by, and a treadmill, so winter training really boiled down to finding shows on Netflix to pass the hours.  Soon, disgusting puddles of sweat appeared on the workout room floor at regular intervals, and I enjoyed the challenge of the "base building" phase of the workout plan.

Complications with sticking to the schedule arose only a few times.  The first happened with a wicked business trip/personal trip/common cold trifecta in February.  Luckily, this only cost a few days of training.  The second happened in May when a stomach flu outbreak ravaged everyone in the family.  I was quite lucky in this cycle not to have any serious injuries or setbacks.  All that stuff went surprisingly well.

By April, I was putting more lengthy workouts in, and although I did a little interval training, almost everything I did focused on endurance.  My first "bricks" were trainer/treadmill affairs, but I liked the challenge of trying to run after biking at high intensity.

When May rolled around, I drove down to the Snake river to do combined swim/bike/runs of significant length.  I only did 2 of these, but found them surprisingly enjoyable, especially the 2nd one.  They also shifted my focus from the training to practical issues like how I wanted to refuel during the 70.3.  I was also getting faster, a welcome development.

Overall Observations

1. Triathlon isn't healthy - I feel faster after having trained for 5 months, but not healthier.  I'd read enough research before I started that I didn't have any illusions that working out for 500 hours in a year would make me healthier.  If anything it appears to have a small negative impact on health.
2. Although I dropped 2 belt loops over the course of training, my weight didn't change that much - maybe 5 lbs.  Since I was exercising 3 times as much as I had at any time in the past, this was curious. 
3. I was frustrated by the lack of specific workouts in the "Bible" and trainingpeaks.com.  I think this is meant to emphasize the importance of a coach (speaking of $), but I'd rather they just made it generic and deal with the possibility that a particular interval workout may not have been precisely what every person needs.  Instead they just say stuff like "Rolling hills, zone 1 and 2".
4. Recording HR and other data makes working out more interesting.  It's easy to go back and compare things.  Triathlon is particularly attractive to people who love measuring and analyzing.  
5. Fitting workouts into a life schedule requires discipline and opportunism.  This is just life.
6. Triathlon is a conspicuous, annoying sport.  I enjoy it. I'm doing it, but there's no denying that most age groupers are rich, and that there is little in this world as loud as a triathlete decked out in tri suit, calf compression, aero helmet, and $400 Rudy Project sunglasses, riding a $6000 TT bike with "ZIPP" printed in billboard-sized script on carbon wheels.  It's a little ridiculous.  Never mind that the triathlete's uniform leaves little to the imagination.  If all triathletes were swimsuit models, this would be counted as one of the sport's strengths (see "olympic beach volleyball").  Alas, elite triathletes look emaciated rather than healthy.  The majority of age groupers are men who have difficulty hiding their shame underneath a race bib, and most are either in the "super-fast emaciated" group or the "rather slow, shouldn't step out in lycra" group.  
7. It's easy to get sucked in to triathlon web sites, gear, race reports, and the fabulously detailed reviews of dcrainmaker.com.  However, no non-triathlete really wants to talk about the sport of triathlon.  It's much better to find another triathlete than to burden your loved ones with the minutiae of a sport whose most recognizable figure is ... nobody. 

We finally took our first ski vacation as a family this week. This was a long time in coming, since we had gotten all the gear last year at the ski swap, only to fizzle out and not even go once. All in all, we had a fantastic time. The kids seemed to genuinely like skiing, and by the end of our three days, they were going down the blue runs at a healthy pace. That made it fun for Mari and me too. All the Mumfords were at the hill, too, which made it even more fun. Kai and Jerome both had moments when they thought they could go no more, but usually a hit of chocolate or a thaw-out in the lodge remedied the problem. Quinn was at day-care all 3 days. He didn't think that was cool at first, but warmed to the process over time. Here are some video clips:

OK, so this is the part where we finally get to the Wackers, who came over for dinner last night, and were guinea pigs on not one but 2 dishes: chicken with dumplings, and apple upside down cake.  Chicken with dumplings was fun - brown chicken, brown veggies, dump everything back into a big pot and boil for 45 minutes.  Take chicken out and pull all the meat off the bones.  Throw meat back in to boiling pot and then drop dumpling dough on top.  In all, it worked well because the Wacker kids and parents helped pull the chicken off the bones.  In the end, I thought the taste was pretty darn good - chicken bones and thigh meat tend to have that effect.  I liked the dumplings too - plenty of bready-goodness on the inside. 5 out of 5 salt cellars.  One thing we learned - it doesn't have to be done in a dutch oven.  We have a heavy steel pot, in which made another batch, and it also worked well. 

The last dish was apple upside-down cake.  The middle of the cake was a little under-done, so I'll probably cook it for 5 ot 10 minutes longer next time.  I'll call it 4 out of 5 salt cellars - pretty tasty, but not as good as Alton's super apple pie.  

 

I have been cooking a little bit recently, and wanted to blog a little on it.  It may or may not be interesting - you'll just have to avert your eyes if this sort of thing is boring.  I took some pictures a long time ago on the first thing I'll post on - pulled-pork sandwiches.  This is probably one of my favorite dishes of all time because I love pork and I love north carolina bbq sauce - I don't know why  took me so long to discover both of them.  One of my problems with regular pulled pork sandwiches, is that the regular bbq sauce overwhelms the flavor and texture of the pork, turning the sandwich into a mushy, sticky, sloppy joe kind of thing.  Not so in north carolina, which uses a cider vinegar-based sauce with spectacular results.  This recipe is pretty straight forward - smoke a pork shoulder roast, or boston butt (which Alton points out isn't a butt at all) for about 4 hours, keeping coals and smoke going strong.  Most of the meat is falling apart at that point, but even the leaner portions taste good.  The smoke penetrates about a quarter inch into the meat and it is amazing.  Although this isn't an alton recipe (it comes out of Steven Raichlen's "how to grill") I have to give it 5 salt cellars out of 5.  If I were to cook it again (which I have since then) I really wouldn't do anything differently.  Putting the carolina cole slaw on top was a bit strong at first, but now I really like it.

More recently, I have started to take a magazine called cook's illustrated (an offshoot of Amerca's Test Kitchen).  Having secured the first 2 issues, I have started through a number of recipes, and am duly impressed.  They take a lot of time to explain what is going on, and their recipes have all been spot on so far.  The first one I tried was grilled flank steak w/provolone and proscuitto.  It turned out to be a crowd pleaser and tasty at the same time.  It's not every day you see meat lollipops on the grill - the kids liked how it looked and tasted a lot.  The prep was easier than it might seem.  After butterflying the flank steak and pounding it, I put the provolone and proscuitto on the sheet and rolled it up.  After binding it with grill-proof rubber bands and poking

 skewers every inch, I sliced up into lollipops - voila!  Easy-peasy.  Grilling was also easy, although the skewers were incinerated.  Taste-wise, this dish scored very well.  Flank steak is flavorful but not too tough, and plays well with the cheese and pork tastes in the dish.  I would score it a 4 out of 5 salt cellars - the cheese makes things a little greasy for me, but overall, very good.  A couple of things I would do differently are: 1 - tenderize the meat with one of those retracting 80 blade meat tenderizers before pounding, and 2 - soak skewers for a couple of hours so they don't burn.  

Another recipe from the cooking mag was spanish tortillas.  Stu will be very happy to see this one since he has an aversion to anything that is assumed to be spanish that is actually from mexico.  Look, Stu, this one really is from spain.  It really just an omelet that is heavy on olive oil and potatoes.  It was very easy to make - just cook potatoes & onions in some olive oil until tender, then add eggs and other ingredients.  

Cook, flip and cook, and you're done.  The flip part didn't work so well for me, but we have solved that by getting a different pan.  Overall, this might work better as a breakfast, but I liked it for dinner too.  Marie made some garlic mayo to go on top, and the whole thing was delectable.  5 out of 5 salt cellars.  It is so straightforward that I wouldn't do anything different next time

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Ok - I admit this isn't as good as the Ohki reunion video from last year, but it's the best I can do on short notice. Watching this makes us pine for Hawaii, and remember how much fun it is to spend time with the Ohkis and Gma Ohki in the Aloha State.



I also realize this is my first blog post in 5 months. Needless to say, my idea of turning my blog into a cooking thingy has been unsuccessful. I still cook - I'm just not religious about getting the pics and story onto the blog. Maybe next week.

This week, I'll catch up with a couple of recipes that I have done recently.  One is from the book, and one is from the online Good Eats archive.  The first is blackened tuna.  I was interested to see the difference between cooking the tuna steak on top of a chimney starter (as recommended in the Good Eats episode on tuna).  The other major difference is that instead of sesame seeds and a wasabi-soy sauce glaze, the book version of tuna calls for a spicy rub.  This is where the "blackened" part comes in, since the rub turns black when seared.  This recipe is so straight forward that I'm just going to put the pics on and say a few words.  

This is the Tuna pre-sear.  The rub is all over the place.  It is mostly paprika, but includes enough cayenne pepper to make the kids say "too spicy".  They ended up just scraping the rub off, and liked the nice tuna that was left.

Right after going in, the tuna has begun to smoke.  

This is a view of the side of the tuna steak right after flipping.  You can see that the first side has a fair amount of cooked tuna that has penetrated the profile, while the pan-side is just starting.  You can also see some of the black that makes this "blackened tuna".  

The finished product, sliced and ready to serve.  We all liked the amount that the tuna had been cooked (inside was just warm).  Overall, this was a three salt cellars out of five recipe, though, because the level of spice was just a little too high.  Also, since we've had the sesame type before, we know that this dish can be 5 out of 5.  The thing I liked about the cast iron pan was that it cooked everything evenly, which is a challenge on a grill.  I think I'll try the sesame seed preparation on a cast iron pan next time - should work nicely.  

This is the other recipe we've done recently - spicy beef kebabs.  These were very easy to prepare, and cooked up very nicely.  They are also a great way to use a cheaper cut of beef (sirloin).  They had great smoky, spicy taste, and the kids loved them too, especially since they were served over a bed of cous-cous.  These really are a 5 out of 5, partially because it's not often that a so-so cut of meat tastes really good.  

The other thing that happened this week is that we bought a new bathroom scale.  Besides the fact that it measures our weight out to tenths of a lb., it also shows that we weigh 10 lbs more than the scale we used to own.  Needless to say, I'm going to drop some weight.  I hereby resolve to become Colin-sized within the next two months.  

The idea of going through Alton's cook book in order seemed like a good idea at the time. More or less, it will still be in order, but today I just couldn't keep it up. It was Mari's birthday, and rack of lamb seemed a better choice than seared tuna, although we'll do that soon. Anyway, this recipe is "Liz and Dick Rack of Lamb". It's name comes from the on-again, off-again romance of Richard Burton and Liz Taylor, which apparently garnered enough attention from Alton that he applies it to any recipe that requires various levels of heat. The lamb is cooked over direct heat for about 10 minutes, and then another 8 minutes on the half of the grill that's not as hot (the spot below where the aluminum pan can be seen)

As you can see, the first (and only) problem I encountered was flare-ups from grease dripping off the lamb. This was remedied by a squirt bottle and then putting the lid on the grill. The meat surface did get a little black, but that didn't hurt the flavor at all.

After flipping over, the other side cooks for 5 minutes. I like a smoky flavor beyond what the charcoal itself provides, so I usually throw some wet hickory chips on a lonely corner of the coals.

After cooking the lamb for a while longer over that little round pan you can see above (indirect heat), internal temperature registered well over 138 degrees, so I pulled them off and let them rest for a while. The fuzzyness of the picture isn't due to a filter - it's just a large spot that was on the camera lens.

Overall I have to give this 4 salt cellars out of 5. The only thing I would do a little differently is perhaps pull them off a little sooner. The inside was still a little pink, but it was medium well, when medium or medium rare probably would've tasted a little better. Still, I loved the lamb flavor combined with the smoke. No special spices - just salt, pepper, and olive oil.

First things first - my wife planned and executed some excellent "Good Eats" meatballs this week.  They are part lamb, part pork, part beef, and all good.  

Above, you can see them cooking in a mini-muffin tin.  This keeps the meatball from wallowing in its own fat, and lets it drain while it cooks. The texture was great (not too dense), the breading was crispy, and the flavor didn't disappoint.  I'll call this 4 salt cellars out of 5, but note that I'm not a meatball fanatic.  My beautiful wife did a great job on these, and they are certainly the best meatballs I've ever had.  I'm still on "I'm Just Here for the Food" hiatus, since the next recipe calls for Tuna steak.  I love tuna steak, but can only get it at Costco, and we haven't been for a while.  Add that to the fact that I've already made that recipe, and it's hard to want to continue on.  I'll get there, just not this week.  Instead, I asked Mari to pick up some pork chops.  I have been wanting to try brining chops for some time now, but just never got around to it.  We've brined turkeys before, but not chops.    

Here are our pork chops, relaxed and having a good time in a solution with 1 cup of salt, 2 cups cider vinegar, and 1 cup brown sugar.  Brining isn't marinading - things happen a lot faster with brining as I soon found out.  Alton says to brine for 2 hours, but I pulled the chops out about 20 minutes early.  After eating the chops, I can say this was a good move.  Any saltier would have been too much - also, the online recipe gets dinged by quite a few people who say the chops are too salty.  One step you won't see here was cutting a pocket into the pork chops and filling each with a cornbread, raisin, buttermilk, sage mixture.  That's why the chops appear kind of plump. 

I filled the chops with the buttermilk mixture, and stuck them on the grill.  An "attractive crosshatch" was achieved on only one of the chops, and even that doesn't look that good.  I put a wet chunk of hickory wood on the coals to produce a little smoke.  In all, the chops cooked in about 12 minutes.   
The above is what the chops looked like after they came off the grill.  The closest chop is out of focus (sorry) so you can't see very well that the stuffing is coming out of the slit in the side of the pork chop.  The "pocket" inside the pork chop is made by poking a small knife through the side of the chop, and then sweeping the knife one direction, and then the other so that the entry point is small, but there's a big envelope to put the stuffing into. 

This is what the chops look like when sliced in half.  The great thing about them is that I could distinctly taste each of the following: pork, salt, vinegar, smoke, sage, and raisin, but they all worked together.  I was glad that I did them on the grill, because there was a nice crunch on the outside even though the chops themselves weren't dried out.  Alton does them on a gas grill - an uncharacteristic lapse in judgement.  I'm a hard core charcoal grill adherent, partially because I started cooking when Mari bought me Steven Raichlen's "How to Grill".  In the book, Steven points out the many virtues of the charcoal approach.  I don't see the point of grilling on gas when I can do the same thing upside down in the oven by broiling.  

Anyway, the chops were a definite 5 salt cellars out of 5.  The balance of the sweet stuffing with the salty pork was undeniably good. This is a recipe we will get out again soon.  There isn't anything particularly tricky about this recipe, so I wouldn't do anything different next time.  Just be careful not to over-brine the chops. 

Laden down by what can only be described as an uninspiring start to my attempt at the recipes in "I'm Just Here for the Food", I broke down and made a recipe from Good Eats.  The difference in results between Good Eats (the TV show) and the book is beginning to worry me.  The stuff I've done from the show is pretty much totally solid.  As I've mentioned before, I can count the unsuccessful recipes on 2 fingers.  Anyway, I decided to break out the apple pie for two reasons.  First, I was in a slump.  Second, Marie had given me a tart pan for Christmas for the sole purpose of making apple pie.  The purpose of the tart pan was to have something deep enough to house lots of apples, and because the bottom comes out,  you can remove the sides and slice up the pie with ease.  

A few words on the use of spirits in cooking:  I do it.  I totally respect those who don't, and think it's a matter of personal choice based on your interpretation of the Word of Wisdom (assuming you're LDS - if you're not, please feel free to return to your game of beer pong).  I'm not interested in getting buzzed on a batch of uncooked chocolate rum balls, and I've never made anything that tasted (to me) like it had alcohol in it.  I just think there are some things that do better if treated with ethanol - fish, for instance.  This pie crust has some applejack in it - a spirit made from distilling apples.   The pie itself was straight-forward.  Make the crust dough and chill.  Chop up the apples, coat with sugar and let sit for 1.5 hrs.  Roll out dough for crust, toss other ingredients with apples, and put into pan.  Cover w/dough and make a hole for the pie bird - I didn't have one  so I made one out of tin foil.

  

The pie was absolutely amazing.  First, the crust was flaky without being weak.  Whole idea of this recipe is that you've got to taste apples when you make apple pie.  The only spice that's supposed to be added is grains of paradise, which is obscure enough that I couldn't buy any at the store.  I just put in a little cardamom instead.  I also had to substitute lemon curd for apple jelly, which safeway also does not sell. Straight out of the oven, the pie looked amazing.  It was so late when we got it out that we had not will-power to wait the 4 hours required to completely cool and set.  By the way, we could see that the "pie bird" was working overtime when we got the pie out of the oven - steam was shooting its "beak".  

So we dug in.  As I mentioned, the crust was flaky and the apples were cooked to goey perfection.  The whole thing was not too sweet, and loaded with unadulterated apple flavor.  The running filling you see in the picture was something we expected since we didn't even wait an hour to dig in.  The half of the pie we didn't eat was left to set overnight.

The next day (today) the pie tasted even better, and had set up completely.  Needless to say, the rest didn't last long.  We probably would have made another one today if we owned enough apples.  

Overall Rating: 5 salt cellars out of 5 - a home run.

What I would do differently next time: First, start with the apples first, since they have to sit for 1.5 hrs, and the dough only needs an hour in the fridge.  Second, split the dough 60-40 for the top and bottom crust.  The bottom crust needs substantially more dough than the top, and splitting the dough in half (as Alton directs) leaves too much for the top and not enough for the bottom.  Lastly, I would have waited for the pie to set up, but I probably won't be able to wait next time, either.  Waiting is a common theme in Alton's recipes: many times you have to start a recipe days in advance in order to be able to execute it.  For example, corned beef needs 10 days, and sauerbrauten needs 3.  All in all, a great recipe, and one we'll probably make again soon.

The next recipe in Alton's book is Bar-be-Fu.  It's a seared tofu steak that's put on some bread for a barbeque sandwich.  I'll admit this process is getting a bit scary since I was 0-2 going into battle Bar-be-fu.  Let me just take the suspense out of this post: I am now 0-3.  The first order of business in making the tofu steaks is to get as much water out of them as possible by putting them between 2 cookie sheets while wrapped in paper towels.  This is actually a great method since it does take lots of water out and make the tofu "thirsty" for tasty stuff to go into them.  Then, I added the steaks and the marinade to a zip lock bag.  

After a day of leisurely soaking in the bbq sauce/cider vinegar marinade, the tofu is supposed to be seared in a hot, non-stick pan for maybe 3 minutes each side.  This part also went off without a hitch.

Problem one with this dish is that the sugar in the bbq sauce makes it hard to get a good crust on the tofu.  Mari has made tofu before that is seared in a little oil, which makes a rough exterior that is a little crisp.  The bbq sauce just burns if left unattended.  Here, you can see the first side seared, and the second getting that way. The other issue with the marinade is that it didn't add a lot of flavor.  

Alton suggested this dish be served on really tasty hoagies.  He even said that having tasty hoagies was perhaps the most important thing for this dish.  My suggestion: forget the bar-be-fu and just munch on some good-tasting hoagies.  Even when we doused the sandwiches with a healthy portion of the reduction/sauce that Alton suggests, they didn't taste that good.  Not bad, just not good.  I made some bread from a recipe Adrianne shared with us some time ago, and it was excellent as usual.  

If we had just put butter and jam on the bread, I would have given it 5 salt cellars out of 5 - Truly superb.  Considering that we instead slapped tofu and bbq sauce on the bread and ate it, I'd give this recipe a 2 salt cellars out of 5 - no better or worse than the other things we've made.  

 

Because Monday was a holiday, I decided to cook the next 2 recipes in the book. Also, the man Alton said the Red Flannel Hash and Cast Iron Duck should be made together since duck fat can come in handy for the hash. I had bought a frozen duck a while ago with the intention of cooking it a la Good Eats, but this is the next recipe, so I changed plans. The first thing that was a little confusing was timing. I decided I had to have everything ready to go into the pan for the hash before I put the duck on so I could toss everything into the pan once the duck came off. That meant I needed to roast the beet and boil the potatoes prior to putting the duck on.

The first problem with the duck recipe is that we live in Pullman, and I don't know of any place that I can just pick up 4 duck breasts. I had to buy the duck whole and break it down - pretty much the same as a chicken but the wishbone was a little funky. That left me with the breasts and the thigh/drumstick sections. I decided to just do the thigh/drumsticks like the breasts - mistake 1. Turns out that thigh/drumsticks from duck doesn't like being done like its friend the chicken.





This is the stuff for the red flannel hash - beet, potatoes, onions, chives, garlic, and duck fat.














So when I started searing the duck, it was looking good, but I could have let it cook longer - mistake 2. The book said 3 minutes, and the cast iron skillet was plenty hot, but this skin could have gone darker. That had 2 effects: the skin wasn't as crispy as it could have been, and the center of the breast wasn't done when I pulled the duck off.







You can see here - center still pretty pink. Looks like tuna steak, but it's duck. It really wasn't ok to eat like that, so I nuked it for around a minute until it was at least a very light pink. The taste was superb, though, and the kids couldn't get enough of it. The thighs were a different story - totally inedible when they came off the cast iron. I kind of expected that, though, and put them into the oven at 400 until the internal temp was in the 170 range. Especially for that end of the duck, I bet you've got to follow the recipe that cooks the heck out of it until all the connective tissue is broken down. Alton has a good eats recipe that does just that.

I got the hash going right after taking the duck off the skillet. I thought it would be great, but the skillet, even at medium heat, seemed pretty hot, and the garlic, and then the onions got real dark real fast (mistake 3). I tossed the rest of the ingredients in, and hoped that the tasty fatty crust on the potatoes would materialize soon - the one that Dad achieved on those rare occasions when he was pressed into service on Saturday nights. Also, this is the crust that Gpa Harris created when cooking potatoes on the cast iron griddle. Alas, no such crust appeared, and in my zeal to find said crust, the chives, onions, and garlic went from "ok" to "totally burnt" in maybe a minute. Alton suggests cracking an egg over it, which I did in hopes that it would soften the blow of the crispy bits.

In all, the duck and the hash had amazing flavor - both tasted amazing at one level or another. For the hash, the part that tasted good was the salty beets coated with duck fat that I had to pick out of the otherwise disappointing scramble. On the duck, it was the pieces on the ends of the breasts that had been cooked perfectly, and didn't need to be nuked. You'd think that I'd know not to undercook after what happened with the skirt steak - alas, not so. The kids still loved it, but the overall experience wasn't that great. Because I hadn't made it before it took way too long to make, and if I'm going to cook for that long, I need a better result.

Overall rating: 2 salt cellars out of 5

What I would do differently next time: Let the duck breast cook a really long time on the skin side, and skip the red flannel hash all together.

Next dish: Bar-be-fu Sandwiches - I think I will err on the side of over-cooking barbeque flavored tofu steaks, if only to make up for the skirt steak and duck.

Ok - this is a last-ditch effort to revive the blog.  On that subject, I will now take a question from an imaginary reader.  

Dear Campbelloki.blogspot.com:  Seeing pictures of food on your blog so often is beginning to weird me out.  I mean, come on.  Are you going to turn your blog into one of those lame blogs where hopeless culinary fanboys cook every recipe from a particular cook book in order from beginning to end so as to show unparalleled devotion to a cooking icon who doesn't even know you exist and wouldn't like you that much if he/she actually knew you?

Me: Yes.

(Q&A now over) There are a couple of things I hope to accomplish in this effort.  First, I want to get some basic cooking skills.  Second, I want to use cooking as a device to keep writing in this blog.  I sometimes wonder whether Alton loves cinematography or cooking more.  I think sometimes that cooking is just a means to an end.  It doesn't make him any less stupendous - quite the opposite.  Because he's actually trying to make a TV show rather than just have a studio audience clap and scream when he trots on stage (take that, Emeril), he's done something unique.  The reason I need to re-start the blog is obvious.  Now that I live in Pullman, there's a lot less material that can safely and appropriately be shared with the world.  Writing about work in San Diego was fun, but if I did that here, I'd probably offend the last 3 people at work that still think I'm an ok guy.  

The first recipe in Alton Brown's "I'm Just Here for the Food - Version 2.0" is Skirt Steak - The Master Recipe.  This is part of the first section of the book which is on searing stuff.    I sear stuff a lot with our cast iron skillet.  Mostly ham/lamb-burgers and sirloin steak. Appropriately for the first recipe in the book, it was really straightforward.  Get slab of meat, lube, season, heat cast iron, and cook on both sides.  

The first issue was the piece of meat.  I'm sure every butcher cuts stuff a little different.  The skirt steak cut I got was pretty long - maybe 2 feet - and had trouble fitting into the pan even after being cut in half.  The nice thing about this recipe, though, is that since the meat is already flat, there is a good chance it will get cooked properly without much fussing around.  

Once the pan was hot, I slapped the meat down and it started to hiss and smoke appropriately.  This usually means I have to send Asha upstairs to shut the bedroom doors so we don't go to sleep to the sweet smells of a yakiniku joint. 

Per instructions, I cooked the meat for 3 minutes each side.  As you can see from the picture, it got pretty smoky.  It always does - sometimes I sear outside.

A couple of observations - first, it's really helpful to get the meat out of the fridge and let it sit for a long time so that the inside isn't still 40 degrees when you slap it on the pan.  If it is, you will likely get the warm pink center of the rare-medium rare.  I thought this wouldn't happen with such a thin cut, but it did (see pic below where one piece is just a litte pink and the other is dark red).  The steak I had was only about 3/4 inch thick.  The other thing is that the cut I had was of variable thickness.  I thought this would be good, though, because I like rarer meat, and Mari and the kids tend to like less rare.  

Anyway, I took it off the pan and it looked like the below picture.  Per instructions, I cut against the meat grain.  This was also a nice thing about skirt steak.  Unlike some other cuts where the grain changes a lot, and is sometimes hard to nail down, cutting across the grain on skirt steak is super easy.  I whipped up a pan sauce with low expectations since I hadn't planned on doing that.  I ended up with something that looked like engine sludge - low expectations were met.  

The meat itself was o.k.  The rarer parts were pretty much inedible, though.  Everything on the thin end that was medium well tasted good and everyone liked.  Does make a guy pine for finer cuts of meat, though.

Overall score (note I'm not scoring the recipe but rather what happened when I tried to make it): 2 salt cellars out of 5

What I'd do differently next time: Cook the meat a little longer at a little lower temperature, and make sure the center isn't cold when it goes in the skillet.  

Next Recipe: Cast-Iron Duck

A little Christmas video update for the blog.

  

Per a request from Gma Ohki, here are some videos of Quinn walking. He is now a holy terror.

For starters, Alison asked about the recipe for protein bars, which can be found here.  I don't include the dried fruit, which besides being expensive, also violates a strict rule I have against dried fruit in baked goods of any kind.  Throughout my life, I have spent significant effort carefully examining the surface of oatmeal cookies for signs that dark portions are raisins (bad) as opposed to chocolate chips (good).  On the subject of chocolate chips, I would just dump a bunch (maybe one cup) into the protein bars instead of the fruit.  It just tastes a lot better, and only adds about 30 calories per bar.  Well, now that I think about it, the exclusion of the fruit means that it adds even less than that.  I usually make a double batch, cut them up, and freeze them in individual zip lock bags.  On my way to work I just grab a bag and I'm good for snacks for the day.

These are not pictures of protein bars, but yorkshire pudding - a continuation of the popover Alton Brown show that I watched a few weeks ago.  I made this today for sunday dinner with drippings from a rib roast.  I thought the combo of the meat and bready-eggy stuff tasted great (in a humble, non-top-of-the-BofM-pride-cycle kind of way).  Props again to Alton, who has sent me astray only once - his pizza dough was overly salty.  The above pic is in process yorkshire pudding, and the lower is the finished product.