At least when Canada is competing. It feels like I am something of a pox for the Canadian athletes. More often than not, when I am watching the telecast of an Olympic event, our team loses. Oh sure, you could argue that there are others who are watching as much of the Olympics as I am and this surely can't be my fault. But I present for your assessment the following scenario. Sunday's hockey game between the American and Canadian men.
Spectators had barely taken their seats when USA pumps one in the net. Crap. Thinking I had time to run upstairs at tend to the seasoning of the broiling chicken wings, I leave the room and head to the kitchen, only to hear that the Canadians have scored. Good news, but what the hell? Why am I not allowed to see that? So I return to my seat only to witness a short time later a goal by the Americans. This continued as the game progressed. Leave the room to make dipping sauce for shrimp, Canada scores, return to my seat, Brodeur flops. I still regret not leaving the room during that last ditch effort by Canada at the end of the 3rd period. I may have been the reason we didn't tie it up.
Although, I am watching the live feed as I type this, and I see Canada's Ashleigh McIvor has won the gold medal in Ladies Ski Cross! Woohoo! So maybe I can be a spectator. But I will only use the Internet. Maybe it's the inherent time delay that saves our athletes from my bad mojo.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Does it HAVE to be a civet cat?
For those unaware, civet coffee, or Kopi Luwak, is made from beans that have been passed through the digestive tract of a civet cat. And no, this is not akin to sausage making, where the tract is removed, prepared and washed beforehand. The cat eats the beans, and then an appropriate amount of time later...poops the beans out. The beans are harvested and presumably washed, roasted, and ground for coffee.
As with many foods (black licorice, prairie oysters, haggis, human placenta) I'm sure that the early adopters of these items were unable to find any other food, or were completely insane. I mean, what circumstance would cause someone to pick through cat shit to get their morning fix of coffee?
[Somewhere in Africa] [interior kitchen] [morning]
"Dammit! Honey, Fluffy got into the coffee again!".
"Well you better figure out something, jackass. Because if I come downstairs and there isn't coffee, I'm gonna smash your Xbox!"
..later...
"Coffee's good. How come you're not having any?"
"Er... I had mine already"
My question is...why does it have to be a civet cat? Why do I have to wait for my shipment of 80-200 dollar per pot coffee. I want to set up my own Kopi Luwak coffee business right here in Canada. I'm sure it could work. I would just need somewhere to keep the cats because my wife isn't particualrly fond of cats. And everything I know about her tells me she would not be ok with a dozen or so cats walking around the house wearing diapers. Although I think extracing and washing the beans would be an excellent craft for the kids in her home daycare. So I suppose I could start small. Perhaps have someone board the cats for me. But that creates a staffing issue. I suppose I would be obligated to pay this person for their time. This is cutting in to profits.
My neighbor has a cat. Perhaps on one of the cat's trips into my yard I could jam a few beans into her. Then, when she comes back to poop, (and trust me, she will) I simply harvest the bounty. Full profit!
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Birthday Full of WIN!
No no. Not MY birthday. My wife's.
In her world, my wife treats her birthday as a National Holiday. And not the North American "made up" ones that are created simply to round out the days off we get throughout the year. I'm talking about one of those old world, Chinese or Bolshevik celebrations that involve complex ceremonies and animal sacrifices. Entire villages gather in the public square and stand mute, facing East waiting for enlightenment from an unseen God. Those who avert their eyes, even briefly, are delighted to be beaten with sticks for their lack of faith.
The people of those villages have a fleeting understanding of the conviction the likes of which my wife has for her birthday.
This is not a critical assessment of her views. Far from it. I quite respect her devotion to treating herself special this one day a year. She, of all people, deserves it. She works very hard as a wife and mother, and a patient caregiver to the legions of snotty, screaming, toy scatterers she is charged with caring for.1
I have always struggled to contribute to Tannis' birthday happiness, but have more often come up short. I am not the best event planner or gift-giver. I find all to many of my gift ideas are tainted by what I think I would like to receive. And whenever I have tried to plan an event, it is often undermined by forces beyond my control. To make matters worse, she is excellent at these efforts. Her ability to plan and orchestrate a day is carried out with military precision. Although, instead of battle fatigues and a cigar, she does it with a stylish outfit and an iced tea.
This year was going to be different. It all started when I went to Canadian Tire to buy light bulbs. I walked past a post-Christmas sale display of kitchen appliances and saw an electric frying pan. Exactly what she has asked for. And before you judge me too harshly for appliance shopping for my wife for her birthday, trust me, an electric frying pan is one of the least offensive things on her shopping list. In past years she has asked for a mop, and a vacuum. So, gleeful in my find, I purchase the frying pan.
The next gift was an impulse purchase that I wasn't too sure about. I started the day shopping with the kids looking for a few baking items that, as it turns out, are only available from a company that does not ship to Canada. The birthday was only a week away at this point, so I decided that negotiating a borderside shipping proxy was going to take too long. So back in the car we hopped and head to Best Buy to check out another purchase option that I had thought of.
I don't need a voting button on this blog to know that the penis-based readers are nodding approval at my new choice of repertory in which to shop, where the penis-less readers are likely recoilling in horror. But I hadn't thought of this purchase strictly alone. I have been trying for a couple of years to put together a portable computer for my wife to use out of parts of non-functioning end-of-life systems from the office. And last year, just when I thought I had a working system for her, it died a quiet death after only 3 uses. She wanted a light-weight computer that she could use to check her e-mail and such while on the main floor, or up in the bedrooms. Enter: the HP Mini Netbook.
I was nervous to present it to her, thinking that she would find he screen to small, or the keyboard too diminutive. But as it turns out, she couldn't have been more pleased. Since opening it and configuring it, she has been using it almost constantly. Anybody that reads her Tweets knows that she has really been enjoying it. Technology FTW!
The last component was the birthday dinner. I have planned this type event in the past with varying degrees of mediocrity. Don't get me wrong, we have always had fun. But we always have fun, it's what we do. I would like just once to have her come home after one of these dinner outings and run upstairs to flop in her bed with her diary and catalog all of the swooning that she did that evening and then calling all of her friends to relate the tale. Last year we went to Homers Greek restaurant for dinner(moderate win), followed by glow in the dark mini-putt(measurable fail). I was hoping to find an event that would engage the kids, but I lost sight of the goal. This is Tannis' day.
This time I decided that I would take her out to dinner and invite a few of her friends. I made some calls, and got RSVP's from Nat, Toshya, and Ange. Nat (via Jacques) informed me that there was a Geocaching Pub Night at the Round Table that night. So I decided that to be the venue so that it would be easier for a few of our other friends to join her for drinks or dinner if they wished.
It is always a challenge to get my wife to do something on a schedule that isn't her own. But the fact that we had a reservation made it easier to be on time and it worked out perfectly. The surprise she showed on her face was worth all of the planning. And we had a wonderful dinner with some exceptional people.
I am lucky to have this woman in my life and look forward to celebrating many birthdays with her in the future. I already have a few ideas for next year...
1If any of the parents of the children in Tannis' care happen to read this, understand that I am not talking about your child. YOUR child is the epitome of grace and manners. There is not a quieter or healthier child on the face of God's earth.
In her world, my wife treats her birthday as a National Holiday. And not the North American "made up" ones that are created simply to round out the days off we get throughout the year. I'm talking about one of those old world, Chinese or Bolshevik celebrations that involve complex ceremonies and animal sacrifices. Entire villages gather in the public square and stand mute, facing East waiting for enlightenment from an unseen God. Those who avert their eyes, even briefly, are delighted to be beaten with sticks for their lack of faith.
The people of those villages have a fleeting understanding of the conviction the likes of which my wife has for her birthday.
This is not a critical assessment of her views. Far from it. I quite respect her devotion to treating herself special this one day a year. She, of all people, deserves it. She works very hard as a wife and mother, and a patient caregiver to the legions of snotty, screaming, toy scatterers she is charged with caring for.1
I have always struggled to contribute to Tannis' birthday happiness, but have more often come up short. I am not the best event planner or gift-giver. I find all to many of my gift ideas are tainted by what I think I would like to receive. And whenever I have tried to plan an event, it is often undermined by forces beyond my control. To make matters worse, she is excellent at these efforts. Her ability to plan and orchestrate a day is carried out with military precision. Although, instead of battle fatigues and a cigar, she does it with a stylish outfit and an iced tea.
This year was going to be different. It all started when I went to Canadian Tire to buy light bulbs. I walked past a post-Christmas sale display of kitchen appliances and saw an electric frying pan. Exactly what she has asked for. And before you judge me too harshly for appliance shopping for my wife for her birthday, trust me, an electric frying pan is one of the least offensive things on her shopping list. In past years she has asked for a mop, and a vacuum. So, gleeful in my find, I purchase the frying pan.
The next gift was an impulse purchase that I wasn't too sure about. I started the day shopping with the kids looking for a few baking items that, as it turns out, are only available from a company that does not ship to Canada. The birthday was only a week away at this point, so I decided that negotiating a borderside shipping proxy was going to take too long. So back in the car we hopped and head to Best Buy to check out another purchase option that I had thought of.
I don't need a voting button on this blog to know that the penis-based readers are nodding approval at my new choice of repertory in which to shop, where the penis-less readers are likely recoilling in horror. But I hadn't thought of this purchase strictly alone. I have been trying for a couple of years to put together a portable computer for my wife to use out of parts of non-functioning end-of-life systems from the office. And last year, just when I thought I had a working system for her, it died a quiet death after only 3 uses. She wanted a light-weight computer that she could use to check her e-mail and such while on the main floor, or up in the bedrooms. Enter: the HP Mini Netbook.
I was nervous to present it to her, thinking that she would find he screen to small, or the keyboard too diminutive. But as it turns out, she couldn't have been more pleased. Since opening it and configuring it, she has been using it almost constantly. Anybody that reads her Tweets knows that she has really been enjoying it. Technology FTW!
The last component was the birthday dinner. I have planned this type event in the past with varying degrees of mediocrity. Don't get me wrong, we have always had fun. But we always have fun, it's what we do. I would like just once to have her come home after one of these dinner outings and run upstairs to flop in her bed with her diary and catalog all of the swooning that she did that evening and then calling all of her friends to relate the tale. Last year we went to Homers Greek restaurant for dinner(moderate win), followed by glow in the dark mini-putt(measurable fail). I was hoping to find an event that would engage the kids, but I lost sight of the goal. This is Tannis' day.
This time I decided that I would take her out to dinner and invite a few of her friends. I made some calls, and got RSVP's from Nat, Toshya, and Ange. Nat (via Jacques) informed me that there was a Geocaching Pub Night at the Round Table that night. So I decided that to be the venue so that it would be easier for a few of our other friends to join her for drinks or dinner if they wished.
It is always a challenge to get my wife to do something on a schedule that isn't her own. But the fact that we had a reservation made it easier to be on time and it worked out perfectly. The surprise she showed on her face was worth all of the planning. And we had a wonderful dinner with some exceptional people.
I am lucky to have this woman in my life and look forward to celebrating many birthdays with her in the future. I already have a few ideas for next year...
1If any of the parents of the children in Tannis' care happen to read this, understand that I am not talking about your child. YOUR child is the epitome of grace and manners. There is not a quieter or healthier child on the face of God's earth.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Recipe - Pumpkin Curry Pasta
Had my mom coming over for dinner, and needed to come up with some unique gastroanomaly to serve. She's always bragging to me about how when she goes to my brother's place, they dine on these crazy delicious and adventuresome dishes like Hamster Cheeks in Brown Butter, or Roasted Goose wearing a sweater knit out of bacon.
A quick survey of the fridge comes up with an odd ingredient ... pumpkin. What can I do with you, my friend? I had once tasted a pumpkin ravioli that was very nice, but the supper hour was fast approaching and pasta takes too much time. Perhaps another style of pasta? Somewhere in the pantry is a bundle of squid ink spaghetti. But I quickly determined that the combination of blackish-gray spaghetti noodles with an orange sauce would become the grossest looking thing to ever grace a plate. I opt for mixing some cavatappi and ricotti noodles together as we have one serving of each of them remaining. Grabbing the 2 boxes of pasta and the coconut milk I needed for my sauce, I head to the cooktop to see what I can produce.
I dropped about 2 tablespoons of pumpkin into approximately 3/4 of a cup of coconut mik. I played with that ratio till I got the pumpkin intensity/color I was looking for. How to season this? Im not sure if it was due to the influence of the colour of the pumpkin, but my mind immediately jumped to curry. Problem is, aside from olives (more on this later) and beer, curry is the one thing that my wife doesn't like. I gave it much thought. I really tried to think of something else. But like a drunk reaching for his favorite bottle, it was muscule memory that guided my hand to the curry jar.
But I really didn't use much curry. Just enough to give it an essence of a land that, to the best of my knowledge, has never grown a pumpkin. Maybe a half teaspoon of medium yellow curry powder.
*taste*
Not bad. Needs a kick. How about some sort of spice? I remember a Thai green curry paste I had in the fridge. Yes! I put in a pea-sized granule, as I know this stuff has some legs to it. Perfect. Rootiness of the pumpkin, smoothness of the coconut, aroma of curry #1, and the heat from curry #2. But it needs something more...
Sweetness.
What do I use for that? Brown sugar? Molasses? What would my brother do? Hmm. He would have had sugar cane flown in from Hawaii the week before. My options are more regional. Honey! I grab the lavender honey and give the sauce enough to just round out the sweetness. I decide that I had best mix this together ahead of time and serve it "pasta salad" style. It was very nice. And even my wife had a small second helping! And I'm willing to bet that if I went home right now, that the leftover portion that we put in the fridge became her lunch.
I served it with tilapia fillets. I heated up the broiling pan ahead of time, dusted the fillets with a simple lemon pepper, brushed with olive oil, and did them in the oven. This preparation was fine for the family, but mom deserved something better. I decide to do a tapenede of sorts. Olives, lemon, olive oil, russian mustard, and cashews. I originally tweeted this recipe with pecans, I think. I am correcting myself now. I mashed this all together and put it on a couple of the fillets. Winner. It was delicious.
To round out the vegetable content, I sauteed young asparagus in olive oil I had flavored with garlic. Take that Kris!
It was nice to have the company of mom for a fun meal. Soon she'll be back in Regina. Maybe there's time for one more inventive supper...
A quick survey of the fridge comes up with an odd ingredient ... pumpkin. What can I do with you, my friend? I had once tasted a pumpkin ravioli that was very nice, but the supper hour was fast approaching and pasta takes too much time. Perhaps another style of pasta? Somewhere in the pantry is a bundle of squid ink spaghetti. But I quickly determined that the combination of blackish-gray spaghetti noodles with an orange sauce would become the grossest looking thing to ever grace a plate. I opt for mixing some cavatappi and ricotti noodles together as we have one serving of each of them remaining. Grabbing the 2 boxes of pasta and the coconut milk I needed for my sauce, I head to the cooktop to see what I can produce.
I dropped about 2 tablespoons of pumpkin into approximately 3/4 of a cup of coconut mik. I played with that ratio till I got the pumpkin intensity/color I was looking for. How to season this? Im not sure if it was due to the influence of the colour of the pumpkin, but my mind immediately jumped to curry. Problem is, aside from olives (more on this later) and beer, curry is the one thing that my wife doesn't like. I gave it much thought. I really tried to think of something else. But like a drunk reaching for his favorite bottle, it was muscule memory that guided my hand to the curry jar.
But I really didn't use much curry. Just enough to give it an essence of a land that, to the best of my knowledge, has never grown a pumpkin. Maybe a half teaspoon of medium yellow curry powder.
*taste*
Not bad. Needs a kick. How about some sort of spice? I remember a Thai green curry paste I had in the fridge. Yes! I put in a pea-sized granule, as I know this stuff has some legs to it. Perfect. Rootiness of the pumpkin, smoothness of the coconut, aroma of curry #1, and the heat from curry #2. But it needs something more...
Sweetness.
What do I use for that? Brown sugar? Molasses? What would my brother do? Hmm. He would have had sugar cane flown in from Hawaii the week before. My options are more regional. Honey! I grab the lavender honey and give the sauce enough to just round out the sweetness. I decide that I had best mix this together ahead of time and serve it "pasta salad" style. It was very nice. And even my wife had a small second helping! And I'm willing to bet that if I went home right now, that the leftover portion that we put in the fridge became her lunch.
I served it with tilapia fillets. I heated up the broiling pan ahead of time, dusted the fillets with a simple lemon pepper, brushed with olive oil, and did them in the oven. This preparation was fine for the family, but mom deserved something better. I decide to do a tapenede of sorts. Olives, lemon, olive oil, russian mustard, and cashews. I originally tweeted this recipe with pecans, I think. I am correcting myself now. I mashed this all together and put it on a couple of the fillets. Winner. It was delicious.
To round out the vegetable content, I sauteed young asparagus in olive oil I had flavored with garlic. Take that Kris!
It was nice to have the company of mom for a fun meal. Soon she'll be back in Regina. Maybe there's time for one more inventive supper...
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Back to School
Well, the snow is falling on my G-mail screen. I guess that means it's snowing outside. I suppose it's about time. This has been an excellent fall. I am definitely looking forward to having a white Christmas.
Just waiting outside the classroom for Linux Level 2. This is my first course at the main U of W campus. The William Ave. location was bought by RRCC, and U of W Continuing Education will eventually be housed where United Army Surplus used to sit. Until that site is built the Continuing Ed dudes, me included, have been crammed into the backwaters of the main campus. My first impression on walking in to my first class on Tuesday was, "I wonder where they put all the used toner cartridges that they used to store in this room?"
Spartan environment aside, it's good to be back at school. I'm looking forward to getting this diploma finished.
Just waiting outside the classroom for Linux Level 2. This is my first course at the main U of W campus. The William Ave. location was bought by RRCC, and U of W Continuing Education will eventually be housed where United Army Surplus used to sit. Until that site is built the Continuing Ed dudes, me included, have been crammed into the backwaters of the main campus. My first impression on walking in to my first class on Tuesday was, "I wonder where they put all the used toner cartridges that they used to store in this room?"
Spartan environment aside, it's good to be back at school. I'm looking forward to getting this diploma finished.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Why do I Geocache?
I get asked this question fairly often. Sometimes I have trouble explaining why I spend the time and the gas money on finding plastic/metal containers for the sole reason of signing a logbook. It comes down to time. Given enough time I could relate a caching story from one of my finds that would paint the required picture and allow that person to see why I enjoy doing this so much.
Unfortunately, I sometimes find that my storytelling ability, or the story itself fails to convey my enthusiasm appropriately. More often than not, I am partially through describing one of my latest adventures when I notice that the interest level of my listener has diminished. The eyes glaze over, they just aren't getting my point. Or aren't interested in the activity. And that's fine.
There are also times, usually after a string of DNF's, or finding a number of less interesting "TFTC" type caches, that I question my own commitment to this activity. I have been far less active lately in finding geocaches. This has nothing to do with my enjoyment of it. I really do enjoy it. But I am finding that the quality of the (mostly urban) hides has diminished significantly in the past year or two. It seems that every cache I try to find within the city limits is either on, or ridiculously near, private property. Or it is undersized for the environment, or in a lousy, leaky container. But more than anything, it seems that quantity has taken the place of quality. Does there need to be a cache at every red-light camera? Every fire station? I think not. This lack of creativity sucks much of the enjoyment out of the sport for me. I'm not suggesting these caches shouldn't exist. Plenty of cachers find them and are happy for the numbers. I'm just saying that the game has changed, and I'm just not particularly fond of the direction it is headed. The spirit of geocaching is to find a container that holds trading items, coins, travel bugs as well as a logbook. Far too many urban hides contain a rolled up log strip and that is all. And they tend to be hidden in areas that can support a much larger container.
There seems to be much less consideration of the impact to the surrounding environment. The smaller the container, the more complex the search, and therefore the more damage to the surrounding area. There is also the issue of optics. People are not excited about strangers poking around in their back lanes, or along their fence line that backs on to a park space. I wish people would consider this when placing a cache. It's embarassing to be confronted by a nervous property owner because they think you're up to no good. And it does nothing to promote the sport as a fun family activity with a leaning towards environmental stewardship. Few kids enjoy finding nanos and micros with no chance of trading anything. And when you need to trample a patch of junipers or other greenery to find a film canister...well what's the point?
I left the city of Brandon after driving past 2 caches hidden on private property yesterday. I drove south on highway 10 with the intent to finally locate a cache I had been driving past for years: Grasshopper Glen. I had been told it was a beautiful area and well worth the search. The search itself once I got to the site was rather easy and the container was chock full of trading items. I look forward to bringing my family back here.
Getting to the site was a significant challenge for me due to not being familiar with the area. In the end, I was thankful for this because of the sights I saw, and the neat places I found. One such place was a network of horseback riding trails.
This story is why I love going geocaching. Even though the wrong trail led me no closer to the cache, it was that effort that made my entire day worthwhile. In the same amount of time it took me to find this one cache, I could have likely looked for 30 urban micros. But I guarantee that none of those finds would have inspiried me the way that this silent river valley did.
Unfortunately, I sometimes find that my storytelling ability, or the story itself fails to convey my enthusiasm appropriately. More often than not, I am partially through describing one of my latest adventures when I notice that the interest level of my listener has diminished. The eyes glaze over, they just aren't getting my point. Or aren't interested in the activity. And that's fine.
There are also times, usually after a string of DNF's, or finding a number of less interesting "TFTC" type caches, that I question my own commitment to this activity. I have been far less active lately in finding geocaches. This has nothing to do with my enjoyment of it. I really do enjoy it. But I am finding that the quality of the (mostly urban) hides has diminished significantly in the past year or two. It seems that every cache I try to find within the city limits is either on, or ridiculously near, private property. Or it is undersized for the environment, or in a lousy, leaky container. But more than anything, it seems that quantity has taken the place of quality. Does there need to be a cache at every red-light camera? Every fire station? I think not. This lack of creativity sucks much of the enjoyment out of the sport for me. I'm not suggesting these caches shouldn't exist. Plenty of cachers find them and are happy for the numbers. I'm just saying that the game has changed, and I'm just not particularly fond of the direction it is headed. The spirit of geocaching is to find a container that holds trading items, coins, travel bugs as well as a logbook. Far too many urban hides contain a rolled up log strip and that is all. And they tend to be hidden in areas that can support a much larger container.
There seems to be much less consideration of the impact to the surrounding environment. The smaller the container, the more complex the search, and therefore the more damage to the surrounding area. There is also the issue of optics. People are not excited about strangers poking around in their back lanes, or along their fence line that backs on to a park space. I wish people would consider this when placing a cache. It's embarassing to be confronted by a nervous property owner because they think you're up to no good. And it does nothing to promote the sport as a fun family activity with a leaning towards environmental stewardship. Few kids enjoy finding nanos and micros with no chance of trading anything. And when you need to trample a patch of junipers or other greenery to find a film canister...well what's the point?
I left the city of Brandon after driving past 2 caches hidden on private property yesterday. I drove south on highway 10 with the intent to finally locate a cache I had been driving past for years: Grasshopper Glen. I had been told it was a beautiful area and well worth the search. The search itself once I got to the site was rather easy and the container was chock full of trading items. I look forward to bringing my family back here.
Getting to the site was a significant challenge for me due to not being familiar with the area. In the end, I was thankful for this because of the sights I saw, and the neat places I found. One such place was a network of horseback riding trails.
In one of my attempts to find the correct road in to the site I found this winding trail that led through a forest, and snaked down a steep hill. It was wide enough for the truck so I followed it. It opened up into this vast beautiful valley and a wide bend in the Souris river. It was just cold enough for the river to still have an insulating crust of ice. There was no wind at all. Not a breath. I turned off the engine, got out of the truck and looked around. I was in the middle of a valley that was about a kilometre wide. There was no apparent wildlife, although I suspect they were just out of sight, watching me as I made my way into their home and wandered around their living room.
The surrounding hills were high; at least by Manitoba standards. As I walked down to the edge of the water I was amazed at the deafening quiet. There was not a sound. As I mentioned, there was no wind to speak of, and this rendered the grounded leaves mute. At least until they were mashed under my feet as I walked. The surface ice offered no clue, audible or visual of the water that was rushing beneath it. I stood there for a very long time. It was like viewing a vast painting. The only noise that penetrated the silence was my own breathing. If I held my breath, I was completely overwhelmed by quiet.
It. Was. Awesome.
This story is why I love going geocaching. Even though the wrong trail led me no closer to the cache, it was that effort that made my entire day worthwhile. In the same amount of time it took me to find this one cache, I could have likely looked for 30 urban micros. But I guarantee that none of those finds would have inspiried me the way that this silent river valley did.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Pork Chop Glaze
Just a recipe for a tasty after-grilling glaze for pork chops.
Juice box of apple juice (It's all I had)
2 tsp brown sugar or real Canadian maple syrup
1 tsp curry powder
Reduce over medium heat while chops are grilling. At the end, add a pat of butter and a tablespoon of corn starch slurry to thicken if desired. Pour over cooked chops while they rest after cooking.
Juice box of apple juice (It's all I had)
2 tsp brown sugar or real Canadian maple syrup
1 tsp curry powder
Reduce over medium heat while chops are grilling. At the end, add a pat of butter and a tablespoon of corn starch slurry to thicken if desired. Pour over cooked chops while they rest after cooking.
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