This is gonna take more than a coat of paint.

A couple months ago, we came home to find our normally cool basement transformed into a Turkish bath . The hot water heater had sprung a leak. Normal people would clean up the mess, replace the appliance and move on. Then there’s us.

Our house was originally built in the 19th century and over the years, it’s had a number of additions and renovations. Like back in the 70s when the basement was remodeled as a three-room apartment. At least that’s what they started to do. No idea why they quit. Maybe it was the carpet.

And speaking of carpet, that’s probably when we fell down the rabbit hole. We looked at that sopping orange and brown mess and knew there was no reason to save it. Even if we hoovered up the water, the carpet would stay wet and grow things.

Once we had the carpet up, along with the remains of the foam backing, we expected to find bare concrete. Something that would be presentable with a little prep work and a coat of paint. Instead we found a layer of adhesive. Hot water won’t soften it. Nor will a hairdryer or propane torch. It’s unimpressed by a scraper in both the figurative and literal senses. The only option left is grinding. Or we can just tile over it.

Having removed the ugly carpet, we figured why not remove the ugly drop ceiling. Above it we found actual 2x10s that span the full width of the house. We also found this interesting construction detail from 150 years ago.

The spanning joists run left to right on the long sides of the chimney. Short pieces are tenoned between them to make a nailing surface on the short sides (there’s another one on the other side of the chimney). The square is the end of the tenon and the dark blotch below it is a cut nail to hold the joint together.

Okay, we’re on a roll – let’s take out an ugly wooden door frame.

Not what I expected. When the door jamb came loose, so did the nailing plugs. And so did chunks of mortar and plaster.  It looks like there are several coats of paint (including that lovely pink we’ve found elsewhere), a plaster skim coat, and a layer of mortar or cement all of which pops off in big chunks. And underneath it all is stone.

We haven’t decided whether this latest development is a good thing or not but I’m pretty sure we’ve got a new remodeling project and it’s gonna take more than a coat of paint.

Health Care and Political Metaphor

If you’ve paid any attention to the health reform debate, you’ve probably heard at least one talking head claim that an individual health insurance mandate is just like making people buy auto insurance.

Bull.

We don’t require everyone to buy auto insurance – only those who want to license their vehicle for use on public roads.  Anyone who has no car probably has no reason to buy auto insurance. And not everyone who owns a car chooses to register it. Why would anyone own a vehicle and not register it?

• They don’t drive
• or can’t afford gas/maintenance/repairs/insurance.
• The vehicle doesn’t run
• or it’s a collectors’ item
• or a restoration project.
• It could be a race car,
• off-road vehicle,
• farm vehicle,
• or a demolition derby entry.

There are undoubtedly more.

The point is that auto insurance is something people need as a result of choices they’ve made. Not everybody needs it. On the other hand, if you have a body, you will need health care and given our current system, that means you need health insurance. It’s not something you get to choose and the sooner the politicians figure that out, the sooner they can move on to other things like realizing we’re all in the same risk pool.

What are your thoughts?

Righthaven Liquified

It’s heartwarming to see a legal shakedown scheme stopped dead.

For those who don’t follow lawsuits, Righthaven is a company that was set up as a copyright collection agency. They searched for online quotations from newspaper articles, got the copyright transferred from the paper to Righthaven and then filed suit — lots of law suits. But Righthaven had no interest in the actual articles so the only thing they got in the transfer was the right to sue and according to the U.S. District Judge Pro that wasn’t enough to give them standing so one of their lawsuits, Righthaven v Hoehn was dismissed.

After winning the dismissal, Hoehn sought and was awarded legal fees which came to about thirty grand. Righthaven balked and delayed paying which led to Hoehn’s attorney, Marc Randazza, filing more motions and the debt grew. It became pretty apparent that the folks at Righthaven had no intention of paying so Hoehn’s next move was to ask the to court auction off Righthaven’s intellectual property which included about 275 copyrights. Based on the judge’s original ruling that led to the dismissal, these copyrights are worthless but if Righthaven no longer owns them, the dozens of other pending cases will be rendered moot. And they’ll make great souvenirs.

Happy Holidays

Merry Christmas everyone!

Santa brought me a knit hat — some assembly required.

It’s quiet around here. The nearest relatives are at least a state away so we got to sleep in. Outside it’s bright and sunny. A light breeze with a cloudless blue sky and no white stuff on the ground. A good day for a long walk.

Porch Repair

Bored? Buy an old house. There will always be something to repair or paint. Our house was built in the 19th century and has since been remodeled and added onto by various owners. The last addition was the front porch. Looking at the brickwork and some old photos, we’ve concluded that the house started with a wooden porch. By 1950, that had been replaced with a concrete stoop. The current porch was built by the people we bought the house from just before they put the house on the market. The weather has not been kind to the porch and the railings and floor boards are now rotting.

We started the project by removing the bottoms of the railings and pulling up loose flooring. We quickly discovered, it wasn’t just the floor boards that were bad — joists were rotting too.

We eventually determined that the rot was confined to the edges of the porch away from the house. A few feet in, the joists are solid. So we cut away the outer four feet of flooring. Looking at the rotted bits, we concluded the builders had used 4d bright finish nails which had rusted and wicked moisture into the flooring and joists.

Since we’d cut the flooring off flush with a joist, we sistered in a 2×4 so we’d have something to nail the ends of the new flooring onto. The other joists also got 2×4 sisters so we’d have a flat nailing surface. While we were working, the herald of spring, a red-headed groundhog, popped out to enjoy the sunshine…

… and saw her shadow…. Once it quits snowing, and things dry out and we’ll pick this back up.

Salt Pork and Potato Stew

Many people in the United States will read the title and make a face. In this country salt pork has largely devolved to mean a hunk of salty pork fat – something to be avoided. But it wasn’t always this way. Until fairly recently, salting was a common method for preserving meat both fat and lean. And once preserved, the product is shelf stable at room temperature making it ideal for feeding an army on the move.

Since this post is part of the continuing epic of Charcutepalooza, the first step to making this stew is making salt pork. The cut of pork I chose was half a picnic shoulder. Had it come from the other end, we’d call it a ham shank.

To simplify things and speed the curing along I removed the bone and cut the meat in two, perpendicular to where the bone had been. The halves where then liberally coated with a cure consisting of a pound a salt, half a pound of sugar and less than an eighth teaspoon of sodium nitrate (it doesn’t take much).

The pieces went into a gallon-sized ziplock bag which in turn went into a dish to catch drips and the whole lot went into the refrigerator for three weeks. Every day or two when I remembered, I’d flip the bag over to help redistribute the liquid.

The result of the process is very salty, very dense, fine grained pieces of meat which will be unfamiliar to many modern cooks including the author. I find myself in the position of the car-chasing dog who caught one – what do I do with it?

Fortunately my cookbook collection includes a copy of Ida Bailey Allen’s Money-Saving Cook Book (1). In it she gives a recipe for salt pork and potato stew which I mostly followed below.

Scald a half pound of salt pork in boiling water to remove some of the excess salt. Then dice the pork and fry it in a stew pot over low heat. You may need to add a tablespoon of oil depending on how lean the pork is. Once it starts to brown, add a pound of coarsely chopped onions and cook over medium high heat until they become translucent. Add two and a half pounds of peeled and cubed Russet potatoes along with six cups of water and a teaspoon or two of ground black pepper. Simmer until the potatoes are tender. Ms. Allen recommends adding minced parsley during the last few minutes of cooking and serving with croutons. I settled for fresh bread on the side.

Despite its simplicity or perhaps because of it, this is a very nice stew. The starch from the potatoes, the sugars from the onions and the soluble proteins from the pork yield a substantial broth. And the cooking process transforms the pork into sweet-salty morsels which are firm but not overly chewy.

(1) Allen, Ida Bailey. 1948. Money -Saving Cook Book. New York:Triangle Books. 248 p.

Lentil and Rice Soup

It’s comforting to know there’s a pot of soup simmering on the stove along with a loaf of fresh bread. This is especially true when it’s your reward for yet another day of shoveling snow.

While this is lentil and rice soup, the pancetta is what makes the diner sit up and say “Ooo Mommy” (food science humor). And by happy coincidence, pancetta fits into this month’s Charcutepalooza challenge.

To be fair, I should mention that my pancetta predates Charcutepalooza – I made it last December after the previous batch ran out. I started with two pork bellies (about 20 pounds) and dry-cured them following a recipe similar to the one given by Ruhlman adding juniper berries and lots of coriander. This batch was thicker than usual and took nearly two weeks to cure. Once cured, I hung the meat to dry on the elegant rack over the closet door in my office where it currently shares space with a country ham.  Once the weather starts to warm up I’ll wrap the pancetta in freezer paper and move it to the basement.

The remaining ingredients for the soup are less esoteric – carrots, onions, lentils and rice. Brown rice works best because it holds its shape and doesn’t turn mushy. Start the soup by cooking half a cup of diced pancetta in your soup pot over low heat. Once it starts to brown, turn up the heat to medium and add a cup each of diced onion and sliced carrots. Cook stirring occasionally until they start to brown. Next add a pound of lentils and a half cup of rice along with two quarts of water. This is also the time to add additional spices – I added a teaspoon of cracked black pepper, half a teaspoon of dried thyme and some chopped up fennel tops I found hiding in the crisper. Turn the heat down low and simmer until the lentils are tender.

And there you have it – bread and soup for winter’s day.