Monday, November 3, 2008


A few weeks ago we went to a bring-your-own-meat barbecue at a very nice house with a spectacular outdoor kitchen and backyard.  I love bring-your-own-meat because everyone brings something different.  I always try to "crank it up a notch," thanks Emeril, at these things, so that everyone is jealous of my food.  For this Barbecue I made Chimichurri skirt steak.  Chimichurri is a latin meat sauce that I learned about in Steve Raichlen's book, How to Grill.  The following recipe is featured in the back yards of Argentina.  It came from Raichlen's book but I've modified it a bit.  Again, I can't recommend the book enough.  It's perfect for people like me, who are more interested in technique than recipes.

Chimichurri Sauce

1 bunch (the packet you get at the grocery store) Flat leaf parsley.
1 bunch cilantro
1 small plastic box mint leaves.
3 clove garlic or more depending on taste and how strong the garlic is.
Salt (to taste)
Pepper (to taste)
Red pepper flakes (the kind you put on Pizza)
A dash of Cayenne Pepper gives it a nice bite and I'd like to try putting a little fresh horse radish in but haven't yet.
1/2 Cup Olive Oil
1/3 (Or more) Cup White Whine Vinager
1/2 Cup water

Preparing the meat

Chop everything and process or use a blender (like me) to puree.  
Skirt steak works very well but you can use any thin, marbleized cut.  I'd also like to try the sauce with Chicken.
Butterfly the meat so that it is as thin as possible, then work it over with a meat tenderizer mallet.  (I don't have one so I use a cheese grader.)
Pour a thin layer of sauce in a glass pan, then put a layer of meat down.  
Cover the meat with sauce and put down the rest of your meat.  Cover this with more sauce.  Save 1/2 to 1/3 of your sauce to pour on the meat at serving.
Let the meat (refrigerated) sit in the sauce all day (the longer the better) until it's grilling time.
Grill the meat with the sauce on it to your liking.  (I recommend as rare as you can stand it.)
Serve the meat smothered in the reserved sauce (remember to get it out of the refrigerator when you start grilling.

Side dishes can be anything, try black beans and rice.  A hardy Wine, like Merlot or Cabernet Sauvignon goes well with the dish.   There are some delicious wines from Argentina.  Impress your guests with a wine from the same region as your cuisine.  Which you can get in most any decent wine vendor including some grocery stores.   Of course good beer goes with anything. Enjoy, and let me know how your barbecue adventures go.

Thursday, October 30, 2008

We are the Children of the Eighties

A friend of mine gave me this poem when we graduated high school. For some reason, I've held on to it all these years. I am now facing simultaneously, and for the first time; my thirties, a serious career and fatherhood. The poem is a sort of call to action, a who are we, and where are we going. I wonder if the author, who has escaped into anonymity, is proud of what we have made of our times. We eighties children are prone, over the next ten years, to take over everything. The Baby Boomers are retiring in droves and more and more it will be left to us to run things. Are we up to it?

We are the Children of the eighties.
We are not the first "lost generation," nor are we today's lost generation;
In fact, we think we know just where we stand-
Or are discovering it as we speak.

We are the ones who gave Malibu Barbie crew cuts with Safety Scissors that never really cut.
We collected Garbage Pail Kids and Cabbage Patch Kids and My Little Ponies,
and Hot Wheels and He-Man action figures and thought She-Ra looked just a little bit
Like I would when I was a woman.

Big Wheels and Bicycles with streamers were the way to go,
and sidewalk chalk was all you needed to build a city.
Imagination was the key.
It made the Ewok Treehouse big enough for you to be Luke
and the kitchen table and an old sheet dark enough to be a tent in the forest
You world was the backyard and it was all you needed.

WIth yout pink portable tape player, Debbie Gibson sang backup to you,
and everyone wanted a skirt like The Material Girl and a Glove like Michael Jackson's
Today, we are the ones who sing along with Bruce Springsteen and The Bangles perfectly,
and have no idea why.

We recite lines with the Ghostbusters and still look to the Goonies for a great adventure.
We flip through T.V. stations and stop at The A Team, and Knight Rider and Fame
and laugh with the Cosby Show and Family Ties and Punky Brewster
and "what you talkin bout Willis?"
We hold strong affections for The Muppets, and the Gummy Bears,
and why did they take The Smurfs off the air?

After School Specials were only about cigarettes and step-families,
The Pokka-Dot Door was nothing like Barney,
and aren't the Power Rangers just Voltron reincarnated?
We are the ones who still read Nancy Drew, and the Hardy BoysThe Bobbsey Twins,
Beverly Clearly and Judy Blume, Richard Scary and the Electric Company.

Friendship bracelets were ties you coudn't break, and friendship pins went on shoes,
preferably hightop Velcro Reebox - and peeged jeans were in,
as were Units Belts, and layered socks and jean jackets and jams
and charm necklaces and side ponytails and rat's tails.
Rave was a girl's best friend; braces with collored rubber made youcool.

The backdoor was always open and Mom servedonly red Kool-Aid to the neighborhood kids-
never drank new-Coke.
Entertainment was cheap and lasted for hours.
All you needed to be Princess was high-heels and an apron;
the Sit'n'Spin always made you dizzy, but never made you stop;
Pogoballs were dangerous weapons
and Chinese jump ropes never failed to trip someone.

In your Underoos you were Wonder Woman, or Spider Man or R2D2
and in your treehouse you were king.
In the eighties, nothing waswrong.

Did you know the president was Shot? Star Wars was not only a movie.
Did you ever play in a bomb shelter? Did you see the Challenger explode,
or feed the homeless man?
We forgot Vietnam and watched Tiananman Squair on CNN
and bought pieces of the Berlin Wall. AIDS was not the number one killer.

We didn't start the fire Billy Joel. In the eighties we redifined the dream, and those years defined us.
We are the generation in between strife and facing strife, and not turning our backs.
The eighties have made us idealistic,
But it's that idealism that will push us and be passed on to our children -
The first children of the twenty-first century.
Never forget: We are the children of the eighties.

I hope that I haven't just stollen anyone's intelectual property. Wow what an anti-eighties idea. If you know the author of this please let me know so that I may give her (I presume) credit.

Monday, September 15, 2008

Instantaneous Summer

There is a profound difference between a "surfer," and someone who can ride a wave.  I barely fit into the latter category.  Since I was a kid though I have always been fascinated by surfing.  Due, perhaps to my first experience with Rock and Roll, the Beach Boys.  I learned how once, on a family vacation as a freshman in high school, and surprisingly took to it pretty quick. Alas, the break here in Southern Arizona is usually less than adequate for surfing, thus I was given little opportunity to practice.  I did rent a board a few times over the years during trips to California.  
Last week we visited Oahu, and I, as a Walter-Middy surfer, would have been loathe to miss out on a chance to  surf the famous "North Shore."  Through a very Hawaiian style arrangement, I hooked up with Doug the surf instructor.  (Literally, OK yaa, drive up the coast about 4 miles, then when you pass the Chevron station, look for this van, it's got surfboards on it.)  I'll let his website describe his credentials. He was exactly what I needed as he catered the lesson to my specific desires. I highly recommend him to anyone going to Oahu.  Interested patrons can book via telephone and avoid the cultural experience I had.  Though truly I would not have wanted it any other way.
I followed him further North and East to a little used beach where he went over some basics with me before we paddled out.  The day was beautiful, just some high, wispy clouds.  The break was perfect (for me), at between three and six feet high.  There was one surfer in the water.  A leather skinned Hawaiian who looked to be around 50, but I wouldn't have been surprised by 40 or 60.  He had a long beard that turned from black to white.  Long hair that had been matted into strings by saltwater.  He wore no rash guard, and probably little sunscreen.  His board was so unremarkable that I can not even remember what color it was.  I wish I had a picture.  He was out surfing when we paddled out.  And he remained there when we left, exhausted after more than two hours.  Doug spoke with him and he invited us to surf with him, then offered a few tips on the tide, and the break.  I got up on my first wave (with a little help from my instructor), then struggled on a few before catching the hang of it once again.  Some of the waves were easy, walkers that did little more than catch the board and bring me about half the distance to the shore.  Others were high (maybe six feet), mighty rollers that broke more than once and tossed me around easily.  I had a blast.

Surfing for me is a kind of romantic fascination.  At its heart, I believe that surfing is just another pursuit of wilderness.  I am a square, I'll never be a surfer, it's just not in me.  But I am attracted to that Endless Summer lifestyle.  Roaming around, looking for adventure, that's what I really want, and I really believe I'll get it one day.  The Beach Boys are all dead.  They died when they recorded Kokomo.  The people who held them up as rebels and icons are now collecting their pensions, and strapping their grandkids into car seats in Volvos. Surfing is another extreme sport.  Capitalized upon the same as the NBA and the NFL.  But that old Hawaiian, out there on some unnamed beach.  He personified surfing.  He wasn't out there to conquer, or show off.  I am sure he could have handled much bigger waves, he was just there.  Surfing lives.
That old man helped me, a wobbly-footed square, catch wave-riders' Nirvana for just an instant.  We had been out for a while, and I was more than a little tired.  I had just paddled back out after a particularly dynamic wave outmatched me, tossed me off the board and shot saltwater up my nose with migraine inducing force.  The next wave was large and powerful, it gathered speed fast.  I was going to let it pass under me, and wait for a more tame wave.  But the wave caught me and took me with it.  I was either going to ride this one laying down, or try and get up.  I struggled, faltered, and rose.  I was up and doing all I could to remain so when I looked to my right and there he was.  A little closer than I was comfortable with surfed the old Hawaiian.  He perched on the wave like a statue, his hair flowed in the wind, and I swear I saw him grin.  We surfed in unison, the shore in front of me, the wave over my head behind me, and the zen-master on my right.  It only lasted a second or so.  The wave bucked and I was tossed into the drink.  He surfed on.  But for that instant, I was a surfer.
I don't know who the old Hawaiian was.  But he exists in my mind as the pope of surfing.  He is out there now, dancing on small waves and big, offering advice to the young bucks, sitting on his board watching the rain storm hit the mountains.  Surfing.

Monday, August 18, 2008

Why I didn't choose Usain Bolt for my team at recess.

I am just back from the track.  I was working on speed and endurance today.  My legs ache, my shins hurt and my knees are tender.  After my fourth set I wanted to quit, but I made myself stay, and do one more.  As many of you know, I have been training hard lately in order to become a better sprinter.  Thanks to these guys, a lot of hard work and a whole bunch of ice, I am getting there.  So I was particularly interested in the mens' 100 meter event at the Olympics.
On Saturday morning the world watched in amazement as Usain Bolt shattered the world record in the 100 meters with a blazing time of 9.69 at the Beijing Olympics.  (At least the part of the world not held captive by NBC, who had to wait up much past my bed-time).  He coasted the last 15 meters or so.  For everyone in the world, doing challenging things requires perseverance, determination, patience, bull head-ed-ness etc etc.  Now us normal people, the ones with goals like running 300 meters in 45 seconds, or a 21 minute 5K, becoming a 1 or 2 handicap golfer, shooting 50 percent from 3 point range, or batting .300, recognize that there are people in the world like Lebron James, Tiger Woods, Michael Phelps, and Usain Bolt.  I call them genetic lottery winners.  But Lebron, Tiger, and Michael are different from Usain:  Tiger is simply better than the rest of the PGA tour.  But he has never decided on the 14th hole, that since he was 6 or 7 strokes ahead of the field, he'd just goof off for the last four holes.  Likewise, while Lebron may dial down his intensity during a blowout, he would never mail in a performance just because he is the best player on the court.  Furthermore Phelps would not have been satisfied with 2 or 3 or even 7 gold medals, he knew he was competitive in 8 events, and he went out to win all eight.
Dick Marcinko, the fearless, leader of the hardest of the hardcore Navy SEAL Team 6 remarked in his book, Rogue Warrior that when choosing recruits for the most elite of the elite he never chose the guys who excelled in the Physical Fitness Test.  Instead, he chose the ones who barely passed.  Marcinko did not want the guy for whom everything was easy, he wanted the one who struggled and fought for everything he had.  This is a true, tested warrior.
In this country, no grade school athlete ever laces up a shoe without hearing about our great teacher John Wooden.  Wooden taught us that at the end of the day, it is not the scoreboard or the clock that defines success, but it is a simple question:  Did I do my best?  No body respects the athlete who, upon seeing that he is beaten, gives up.  Did Mr. Bolt behave differently?  Despite winning the event handily, and setting a world record, I cannot help but observe  that Usain Bolt failed to do his best.

Monday, May 26, 2008

Review: Prince Caspian

The first remarkable event of Prince Caspian is a fight between Peter Pevensie and some school boys back in England.  Little brother Edmund rushes headlong into the scuffle and engages the older boys with Peter.  This is not in the book.
The fight in the tube station is not the only scene that has been added to the story for the screenplay.  There are two epic battle scenes that Lewis did not write.  For reasons that must be obvious to hollywood producers, the movie version of Prince Caspian took on a much more martial persona.  In order to make room for the battle scenes the long journey to Aslan's Howe was truncated mercilessly.  I was particularly disappointed by the nixing of Lucy's struggle to get the others to follow her when Aslan called her for the second time.  This, I think, is the meat of the story.  The older kids had a hard time seeing Aslan, and only after they believed he was there, could they see him.
The movie does maintain this theme, or a variation of it.  Peter is forced to have faith in Aslan, instead of himself.  Speaking of Peter, he is much more kingly in Caspian than in the last movie, which is good.  Susan continued in her weak faith, and it is much easier to believe that the movie Susan never returned to Narnia, than her literary counterpart.  One thing I've realized now by watching both Narnia movies, is that they are not meant to replace the books.  This too is good.  Weather it was on purpose or not, the film makers have not taken away all the magic of the books by converting them to cellulite.
Despite the differences from the books, some of the same emotions are present.  I was moved early on by Edmund's defense of his brother.  Reepicheep, one of Lewis' most beloved characters, elicits the same hero lust.  Likewise, the valor of all the Narnians in the various battles is moving.  Particularly the scene in which a scimitar holds up the castlegate amidst a barrage of arrows while his comrades escape is one of my favorites.  In this way the film makers have really captured the wonder of Narnia.
The film has not, and will not replace the book.  This is good, no film ought to ever replace such wonderful literature.  However, so far in Disney's Narnia series they have complemented the books admirably.

Thursday, May 22, 2008

Tacos Tacos Tacos Tacos

This week is Tacos Tacos Tacos Tacos week.  We choose a different Taco place to eat at every day for lunch.  It's amazing how exciting this can make an otherwise dull work week.  I always wake up excited to go to work during food theme weeks.  We will be doing two taco weeks this month.  This is the first, next week is "Under the Sea," and the following week will be "Tacos Tacos Tacos Tacos."  I am having to keep my taco consumption moderate this week, but for next taco week I will have (hopefully) reached my goals and will be allowed to go all out.  I warn you now:  I am going to go off in two weeks, no taco will be safe.  This is the menu for this week:
Monday: Six for Six at Guerro Canelo.  That's six carne' asada tacos for six dollars.  These carne' asada tacos are awesome, and the special on Mondays.  If you can pry yourself away from the hot dogs, you've gotta have the tacos.  Or do what one Taco eater did, and have a hot dog for desert, after your six for six.

Tuesday:  Fish Tacos from Del Taco.  That may surprise some of you connoisseurs, but I would put the fish tacos from Del Taco against any fish taco in South Tucson.  I rocked three of em.

Wednesday:  Old Style Patty Tacos from Rigo's.  The proper way to make ground beef tacos is to cook the meat within the shell in a frying pan.  Rigo's has some of the best old style patty tacos in town.  They come in an order of three.  It's best to get the tacos and a side of rice or beans.  While this is plenty of food, some more hearty tacomen have been know to rock six.

Thursday:  Luck of the draw at Pico de Gallo.  I settled on the shrimp tacos, which were of fried shrimp.  I am used to grilled shrimp tacos, but these were very good none the less.  I was tempted to try the cabeza tacos (made from cow brains) but chickened out.  Now I wish that I had tried them.  Pico de Gallo is most known for their cup of fruit.  You really should try this.  It's a cup of fruit, with lemon juice and chili powder all over it.  Tasty!

Friday:  Normally we finish things off with the grand finale' Mi Nidito, but since we are doing two Tacos Tacos Tacos Tacos this month we are saving El Presidente' for week two.  El Dorado serves very good carne' asada tacos, but I am craving patty tacos and will go with that.

After the first Tacos Tacos Tacos Tacos I discovered that my favorite food is Tacos.  One can see why.  There are just so many different options.  In the future I will post some of my favorite recipe's for tacos.

I will report on both "Under the Sea." and "Tacos Tacos Tacos Tacos Two" soon.  In the mean time, celebrate Taco week and eat some tacos!

Sunday, May 18, 2008

Elegant Trogon

On Saturday I took a bird watching trip with some people from my church to Madera Canyon.  I am a lousy bird watcher as I never remember the names of the birds, and often find myself lifting my binoculars to scan the hills in the distance for deer.  Saturday was a marvelous success though as we spotted this Elegant Trogon.  We walked a little over a quarter mile up the Old Baldy trail and were just about to give up when we heard him call.  The call came from down the trail so we backtracked a hundred yards.  Soon he called again and we knew he was close.  Everyone scanned the dense oaks off the trail.  Then one of our group spotted his red chest.  She pointed him out to everyone.  My friend Mike Jones took this picture.  The Elegant Trogon is high on every Bird Watcher's List.  In the U.S. they only appear in the southern mountain ranges of Arizona and New Mexico.  I am very lucky to have seen one on only my second bird watching trip.

Friday, May 16, 2008

The Opposite of Fear

One of the most ballyhooed films of last summer was 300.  I was so excited to see it that I broke my "no first run movies" rule and saw a matinee within weeks of it's opening.  I was disappointed, and my disappointment was all Steven Pressfield's fault.
Prior to seeing 300, my friend Dan lent me Gates of Fire, by Pressfield.  It is a historical novel depicting the Battle of Thermopylae.  I read Gates of Fire before seeing 300.  This was a mistake as I would have enjoyed the movie more had I seen it before reading the book.  Pressfield took the opposite approach of Miller (Author of the Graphic Novel 300, on which the film was based), in that he told a very believable story, one that the reader could easily conceive, yet still view as legend.  Pressfield's characters are so lifelike, yet so heroic that I would be disappointed were I to travel back in time and meet King Leonidas, and find him unlike Pressfield's representation.  Gates of Fire took characters with some historical basis and wove a complex story about them.  For instance Dienekas, a central character in the book was a real person who, when confronted with the possibility of the mass of Persian arrows blocking the sun is actually believed to have responded "Then we will have our battle in the shade."
The book is narrated by a Spartan slave, and it is as much the story of his life as it is The Battle of Thermopylae.  The book examines and portrays Spartan culture, which has been called a "cult of courage."  It is this element of the book that led to my disappointment with the movie.  What follows is a spoiler so stop reading now if you plan to read the book.  Prior to the 300 Spartans departing Sparta to meet Xerxes at Thermopylae Dienekas ponders what compels the Spartans to so willingly march to certain death.  He speaks of facing one's fears, and decides, after much pondering that the opposite of fear is love.  Love is why the 300 Spartans marched off to die.  Not love of glory, or blood, although they certainly reveled in both, but simply love for their families, and for their way of life.  
I wish that the church was a little more like Sparta.  For Christ implored us to be just that. Men, gladly going off to die for their wives.  Wives and mothers bravely facing this reality, and trusting that all will work to the glory of Sparta.  
I am grateful to Steven Pressfield for writing Gates of Fire, there is so much Christians can learn from the Spartans, from the warrior's code and Pressfield has showed us what the perfect warrior looked like.  Hope that was subtle enough.  Discuss, I'm vaclempt!

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

La Gloria Cubana

This evening my wife got together with some friends away from the house.  She thinks this is a terrible annoyance for me.  In order not to usurp any unspoken rules of cohabitation, I will refrain from dissuading that belief here.  Whilst she was out I sat on my porch for an hour or so.  When my wife is gone I like to smoke cigars and read, and tonight I smoked a cigar for the first time in a few weeks.  This is a shame as lately the weather has been beautiful for cigars on the porch in the evening.
I had never smoked this brand before, in fact I hadn't even heard of it, so I had no expectations lighting up.  I was pleasantly surprised.  Cigars International says that: "La Gloria Cubanas offer a delicious balance of Brazilian, Dominican, Mexican and Nicaraguan filler, together with a dark Ecuadorian wrapper."  My guess is that this is one of the many cigar makers that migrated from Cuba when Castro came to power and set up shop somewhere else, but I could be wrong.
The smoke lasted an hour and twenty minutes at a very moderate, even passive rate, just the way I like to smoke.  This is an exceptional duration as the cigar was only a 4.8 x 52.  That's mighty short, for such a long burn.  I ordered it in a sampler pack of "mild" cigars.  Mild it was, but not bland.  I find that some "mild" cigars are bland.  This La Gloria Cubana was rich, even a little sweet.  The draw was quite tight, which I like.  In fact it was so tight that the ash did not fall off until it was over two inches long.  I will definitely be smoking more of these, as I will be seeking them out in the future.

Sunday, May 4, 2008

Dave's Barbecue Rub

For Christmas this year I made some barbecue rub to give to a few friends as presents.  Most of them have run out of it and asked me for the recipe.  I never write anything down so I'm going to try and duplicate it by memory:

1 part Brown Sugar
1 part Paprika
1 part Kosher or coarse salt
1/2 part garlic powder
1/2 part black pepper
1/2 part instant coffee
Cayenne Pepper to taste
Cajun Seasoning to taste

Mix all your ingredients well.  I use a rinsed out spaghetti jar (make sure it's completely dry).  Just pour them from your measuring device (1 part = 1 cup will fill your jar) into the jar and shake it as you add ingredients.

You can put this rub on anything you barbecue.  I've used it to make a crust around smoked meats, to add to the flavor of liquid marinades or as a stand-alone enhancer for hamburgers, chicken and fish (go easy on the fish as the flavors are very robust).  I even use it when cooking a roast in the crock pot.

I ripped this off from Steve Raichlen, it started out as his "Basic Barbecue Rub" that he uses for his famous "Beer Can Chicken", but I've added so much to it that I think I can call it my own at this point.  My wife got me his book for Christmas and I highly recommend it.  The nice thing is that instead of being just a collection of recipe's  it is more a book on different grilling techniques.  Raichlen encourages creativity and experimentation. 

Thursday, May 1, 2008

How to make Churrasco

I love to Barbecue, I've told many of my friends about my particular favorite form of barbecue, but few have been able to come over and try it.  Here I will describe the process for making Brazilian Churrasco, I hope that you are able to try it.  Let me know what you think.

It all starts with the meat.  Now it is difficult to get the best Brazilian cuts of beef here in the states, but if you are a purist you can go to a butcher and ask him for Brazilian Picanha.  In Tucson they can do it at American Meat Company on South Fourth Avenue.  Usually I just use either Top Sirloin or Tri-tip as both do fine.  Actually I've used whatever meat is on sale when we want to go cheap and it always turns out OK.  The important thing to remember is that the meat has to be very marbleized.  In other words you want a lot of fat running through the meat.  This will make it juicy and tender.  Lay the meat out on a large cutting board and cut it into approximate stake size pieces.  If the meat is thicker than an inch, butterfly it so that it will cook quicker and more uniformly.

The other ingredient is salt.  Putting salt on the meat does not dry it out as I thought it would, but it locks the moisture into the meat and makes for a very juicy steak.  Salt is also a natural tenderizer.  I have found that the best salt to use for Churrasco is Kruger brand Kosher salt.  It comes in a purple box.  Sprinkle the salt onto all sides of the meat liberally but don't overdue it.  It may take you a few tries to learn exactly how much salt to use.  You can use other coarse salts but I would not use table (or any other fine) salts.

The secret ingredient is Onion.  I learned this trick from a back yard barbecuer in Brazil.  Before you cook the meat (I put the onion on before the salt but it doesn't matter).  Cut an onion in half and use a cheese grater to shred the onion over the meat.  Just a little is all it takes.  I use about a third of an onion when cooking for six people.  The onion will caramelize on the grill and give the meat just a hint of sweet flavor.  This will take the edge off the saltiness and your guests will be amazed.

Grilling:  Light the grill right before your guests arrive and let it get pretty hot.  If you have a smoker box fill it with wet mesquite for that unique Arizona flavor.  Bring a clean cutting board out to the grill and a couple sharp knives and a fork, along with a pair of tongs.  Place your meat fat side up and let it cook.  It will sear very quickly.  Turn the meat as soon as you see blood rising to the top.  Even if you like your meat well done, keep it as rare as you can tolerate.  Well done meat becomes very dry and the salt makes it tougher the longer it cooks.  When your meat is done, I pull mine when it is still red in the middle, take it off piece by piece and cut it into small strips.

In order to really appreciate churrasco you must eat some of it right off the grill.  When I make it, I assume half will never see the table, this is how it is done in Brazil also.  Put the cut pieces on a plate and have someone take it around to your guests.  But don't forget that as the griller, you must consume the best pieces yourself.   Serve the rest at the table with rice and beans,  See my wife's blog for some side dishes.  I like a robust red wine, such as merlot, or stout beer, such as Fat Tire, with churrasco, but my wife insists it must be accompanied with Coke.  Either way you will want to have plenty of water available for your guests as the salt will make everyone thirsty.

There are a lot of people who will disagree with me about some of the finer points, and I'm sure lots of Brazilians will accuse me of "Americanizing" their beloved dish, but it's about the people you eat it with.  Don't worry about it, invite people you love over and enjoy.

Welcome to My Porch

My favorite thing to do in the world is to sit on my porch with friends.  So this is my virtual porch.  Come out and have a seat.  Browse through the postings, there will be recipe's restaurant, cigar wine, book and movie reviews.  Along with a few of my own stories, and maybe a song or two you can download.  As on any porch, there will be some hunting an fishing stories, maybe a little sports talk, and from time to time a rip roaring discussion.  (Although if it's controversy you will want to check out my other blog, an intelligent response).  Feel free to search for topics that interest you, I hope you enjoy your stay on my porch.