Green Chile Beef Burro Mix, pressure cooker

Green Chile Beef

This is a mild green chile beef for Norte Americano  tastes.  You could ramp it up with some jalapenos or ground red pepper if you like it spicier, and add more of the other spices as well if you like the flavors stronger.

3 LB BEEF ROAST OR STEW, LEAN, TRIMMED

OIL for frying
LG ONION, CHOPPED
1 TB CRUSHED GARLIC
1 TB ANCHO CHILE POWDER
2 TSP PAPRIKA
2 TSP MEXI OREGANO
1 TSP CUMIN
½ CUP BEEF STOCK (OR BEER)
2 CANS ROTEL TOMATOES
1 CAN DICED GREEN CHILES
4-5 charred green chilies, sweated, peeled and cut into pieces.
SALT/PEPPER

PREP:

TRIM AND CUT THE BEEF INTO SMALL-MED PIECES. Place in single layer in heated frying pan with a little oil. Brown quickly on one side (don’t turn the meat while browning), place in pressure cooker. I used a 10 or 12 inch cast iron skillet; it took 4 batches to brown the meat.

Brown the onion with the garlic, chile powder, paprika, oregano and cumin.  Place in pressure cooker.

Add the ½ cup liquid and the tomatoes (undrained).

Seal the cooker and bring to pressure.  Cook under pressure for 15 minutes.  Let the cooker cool slowly (about 25 minutes) until pressure has completely dissipated.

Add the green chiles, canned and fresh.  Cook at low temp uncovered until cooked down some and thicker – 30-45 minutes.

Serve in burritos.  May add cooked diced potato to the burro if desired, or egg.

Harrison Ford Saved Lives by Crashing Plane on Golf Course!

Ryan PT

Nonsense.  What is the strongest human instinct?  Bingo if you guessed "survival."  When an engine fails, (or some other malfunction that requires immediate action), a pilot's training kicks in -- and hopefully he or she has been trained well and the checklists and responses practiced.  One of the first things you do in a light aircraft after an engine failure is to determine what the best potential emergency landing site is -- within the gliding distance you have available.  Harrison Ford picked a likely one, and he made the wise choice to land on it apparently without any equivocation (which was probably also very important -- it's no time to be wishy-washy). 

Then you fly the airplane, without getting distracted from that most important task. Those who say that he "saved lives" by not hitting any place (like a building) where people could have been hurt show a complete lack of understanding of pilot training and flying realities -- you don't hit things like that because you get killed doing it.  And that's not in anyone's flight plan.  You want to get down safely, and you also don't want to prang up your flying machine (which is notoriously fragile and expensive). Picking a place on the ground that is hopefully smooth and good enough to get down on in one piece is primary - so you can walk away from that "perfectly good landing."  Worrying about people on the ground is by human nature, secondary.  So what I'm saying is, if you missed it, Mr. Ford was saving his own butt and more power to him.  Only if your chosen landing spot is on the other side of a crowded playground that you didn't initially see would you worry about "collateral damage."

Harrison Ford's piloting qualifications:  When I first saw the reports on Mr. Ford's forced landing, there were those whose first thought (and comments) were "what was he doing flying that pre-WWII vintage aircraft and was he qualified to do so" (?)  The first two letters in that aircraft's type are "PT."  That stands for PRIMARY TRAINER.  That's what raw newbies fly.  *What we might call "whuffos," to borrow a moniker.

Harrison Ford is no novice. He reportedly has hundreds, maybe even thousands of hours (I expect) of flying time in complex fixed wing aircraft (as well as others).  When I saw that question posed in a Hollywood-type tabloid article, as if his wealth and status might have gotten him into a situation that he couldn't "handle," I laughed out loud.  You could teach an 8-year old to fly a PT22 in 6 hours, 30 minutes.  That little airplane is slow, forgiving and built like a brick house (strong where it needs to be strong).  Maybe even overbuilt. Properly maintained, it could still be flying in another 50 or 100 years and it is simple enough to be rebuilt like new any time it needs it, hub to tailskid.  Back in the olden days, people built airplanes like this one in their own little shops. Actually, they still do.  And I'm not exaggerating, I have known men who did.  Think Orville and Wilbur and their brethren and sisteren. 

So, the lessons here are: (1) don't give any credence to what aircraft incident witnesses say about ANYTHING because they don't know what the hell they are talking about 99% of the time -- and -- don't let ANYONE write about aviation news unless they actually know something about the topic, because they invariably make fools of themselves with their sensational ignorance (and then people like me make fun of them). 

Harrison, keep the shiny side up and call me anytime buddy, I'd love to go flying with you.

*Whuffo.  Greenhorn, without knowledge in the topic at hand. "Whuffo you do this, whuffo you do that?"  Asker of dumb questions.

"Sense of Adventure, Positive Attitude, Determination to Succeed." (Chicago City Council Resolution on Bessie Coleman, 1992)

Elizabeth Coleman, Aviator

On a cool crisp morning in my youth, I launched myself from Deer Valley Airport in Phoenix on my first “long distance” flight.  It was a short journey  over about half a day, through several hundred miles of Arizona, Nevada and California.  Of everything I remember about that flight, it was the freedom of it, and the sense of empowerment, that remain with me today.  For those moments, I was the only one in control, I was responsible for every outcome. In flying over several decades since then, those feelings of freedom, responsibility and accomplishment are among my most enduring impressions of the joys of flying.

Can you imagine how important (or exhilarating) that experience would be for someone from a non-privileged background - where freedom in general, and more specifically, freedom of opportunity, was an almost unheard of thing?  Bessie Coleman, remarking on that sense of freedom experienced in flying, said that she didn’t see any racism or experience prejudice while at the controls of her airplane. In flying, she escaped those things for that time that she was in the sky (that were so otherwise common not only for black people, but also for women).

I had been thinking of some way to honor Black History Month. I thought of writing about Rosa Parks, or the Buffalo Soldiers.  But I ran across the story of Elizabeth Coleman (or Bessie, as she is known to history).  She was not only one of the earliest female pilots; she was one of the first black pilots.  She was also part Native American (Cherokee) and so she may have been the first Native American aviator as well.  But above all, Elizabeth Coleman was a winner and the real story is about what she went through to accomplish what she did. 

Life wasn't very easy, and obstacles were thrown in front of her all of her life.  She was raised in Atlanta, Texas, which is about 22 air miles SSW of Texarkana. While it is reported she had a poor but “happy childhood,” her father left the family while she was still a child. Like most poor children in her circumstances, Elizabeth helped with her siblings and worked hard, both in the home and outside of it. Bessie’s young life consisted mostly of school, watching after her brothers and sisters, chores and church.  The entire family picked cotton whenever it needed picking (they were sharecroppers). 

Elizabeth walked 4 miles each way to school and apparently she went every day because she completed through eighth grade. She went on to post-secondary education in Oklahoma, until her savings ran out and she was forced to return home.  She had been especially capable in mathematics. The college she attended specialized in agricultural education and the training of teachers (for the “colored” schools only of course).  Those times, roughly around 1910, were at the height of Jim Crow segregation in the USA; black folks were “equal” - as long as they kept to themselves.  All that aside, what Bessie Coleman wanted and strove for was to “amount to something.” [1]

She left Texas for Chicago with hope in her heart.  While the racism and limitations blacks experienced in the south were present there as well (if in less blatant forms), she also found opportunities.  She lived with her brothers and she became a manicurist in local barber shops.  She heard the stories of those who had returned from service in WW1, and having learned about flying, she decided to become a pilot; among the stories told to her were about how French women were "superior" to American women because they were allowed to fly!  But for Elizabeth, the problem was how?  No one would teach her – she was not only female but she was also black in early twentieth century America.  White flight instructors wouldn’t teach her.  Male black pilots wouldn’t either. But Elizabeth Coleman wouldn't take no for an answer, at a time when that attitude could have gotten her beaten or worse in some areas of this country.

Nieuport Type 82

Flying is how she had decided she would “amount to something,” and so on the advice of a knowledgeable friend and mentor, she went to France, where she could obtain the training she wanted.  She saved her money, she got local financial backing in addition, she learned French. Then she went to France and took her flying lessons at the famous Caudron Brothers' school.

The Caudrons held a place in French aviation much as the Wright Brothers did in the USA - they were among the earliest pioneers. Like many American pilots in WW1, she learned to fly in a French Nieuport (like the one in the photo). The Nieuport had a pesky tendency to shed its wings during flight. It took Bessie 7 months. She earned and was granted a pilot's license from the prestigious Federation Aeronautique Internationale (the FAI) in 1921 – the only woman among her classes' graduates and the first black woman ever to earn a license from the FAI.  She had learned enough about aviation and piloting - in French - to obtain that license, even though she had barely a basic ability to speak or understand that language.  She was 29 years old (although for some unknown reason she lied about her age). She continued with more advanced training there, recognizing that in order to be financially successful in aviation, she’d need additional skills. She was the very first American of any race or gender to obtain the FAI's international flying license.

On her return to the US, she was greeted with a good amount of attention and publicity and became a “media sensation,” although it wasn’t all flying and roses from then on (though there was a little of that)…

When Coleman returned to the US in September, 1921, scores of reporters turned out to meet her. The Air Service News noted that Coleman had become “a full-fledged aviatrix, the first of her race.” She was invited as a guest of honor to attend the all-black musical “Shuffle Along.” The entire audience, including the several hundred whites in the orchestra seats, rose to give the first African American female pilot a standing ovation.[2]

She carried herself with a certain amount of swashbuckling “dash,” she was beautiful, she was charismatic and she was a great speaker.  She appeared in airshows (in the then-new "barnstorming" business) and she harbored dreams of opening a flying school of her own – open to all.  She quickly obtained a reputation as an expert and daring pilot. She thought briefly of a movie career in California, although she ultimately declined those offers because of the predjudice she encountered there, which she couldn't tolerate.  Elizabeth Coleman not only rose above prejudice, she actively fought it.

All during this time, money was a problem – she struggled to work for or get funds to buy airplanes, suffered set-backs when she crashed them, opened a beauty shop at one point (to amass money to open her school), gave lectures; she was an "eloquent" speaker.  She was broken and injured in flying crashes and she kept going. She fought racial barriers as well as gender barriers at every turn. [3]  She would refuse to perform – either flying or speaking – unless her audiences were desegregated, or if blacks were not allowed into the venues where she was to fly or speak. While she achieved a phenomenal level of success for someone as limited in means and opportunities as she was, those limitations finally did catch up with her.

Bessie Coleman and a Curtiss Jenny

On April 30, 1926, Bessie and her mechanic took her just-purchased “Jenny” for a test flight.  The Curtiss Jenny was, even then, considered a rattle-trap and a bucket of bolts -- and the one she bought reportedly wasn't even in that good of condition.  But it was what she could afford. During the flight, a forgotten or misplaced wrench got entangled in the control linkage, and the airplane apparently inverted and dove to earth with "jammed" controls.  Elizabeth was not wearing a safety harness (she was stretched up in her seat, trying to observe the ground at the time) and she was thrown out of the plane as it fell – 2,000 feet to the ground. The mechanic was also killed in the ensuing crash.


Thousands of mourners attended services and memorials after her death.  She had been a pilot for only five years. Her flying achievements all took place before Charles Lindbergh made his flight to Paris, and before Amelia Earhart made her famous flights.  What more might this driven and talented young American have accomplished had she lived beyond the young age of 34?  How much of aviation's early history might have had Bessie Coleman's name on it?

As it is, she has become an enduring symbol of personal courage, integrity, talent, intelligence, motivation, confidence, enthusiasm and perseverance in the face of extreme adversity and continual obstacles.  She never quit; she is a lesson in success, despite encountering difficulties in the pursuit. She had all the best qualities we revere.

Elizabeth "Bessie" Coleman was an inspiration to countless black would-be aviators – male and female alike -- helping them stand in the face of not only racial injustice but gender inequality and according to William J. Powell (himself an influential and accomplished black aviator of those times) “the barriers within” themselves.[4]   I wonder how many of the Tuskegee airmen were inspired by this intrepid young woman as they faced the same kinds of difficulties or externally imposed obstacles? And Bessie Coleman is also an inspiration to me.

In the intervening years, libraries, airport facilities, streets and schools have been named for Bessie Coleman in cities and towns across our country.  There are scholarship awards in her name, and the U. S. Post Office has issued stamps which bear her likeness. She was listed as No. 14 in Flying Magazine’s 2013 list of “51 Heroes of Aviation,” and she was inducted into the National Aviation Hall of Fame in 2006 – the highest honor in American aviation.  In the end, Bessie Coleman did indeed "amount to something."

---

[1] Texas Roots (n.d.). Retrieved from http://www.bessiecoleman.com/Other%20Pages/texas.html

[2] American Experience. Fly Girls; Bessie Coleman (1892-1926). (n.d.) Retrieved from http://www.notablebiographies.com/Co-Da/Coleman-Bessie.html

[3] Bessie Coleman; Pilot; (1892-1926). The Biography.com website (2015). Retrieved from http://www.biography.com/people/bessie-coleman-36928

[4] Bessie Coleman (Wikipedia).(2015, February 26) Retrieved from http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Bessie_Coleman&oldid=648941490

Bourbon Chicken

Bourbon Chicken w/cucumber salad

I used to eat lunch at a food court in the Arizona Center, a business and shopping complex at 4^th Street and Van Buren in Phoenix.  There was a Greek/Mid-Eastern themed outlet there that served this dish every day – once I had this for lunch it is all I ever ordered when we went there. It's gone now, along with the food court. This may not be exactly like their dish, but I think it must be pretty close. I always got it with a fresh cucumber salad.  So…

5 or 6 boneless skinless chicken thighs
8 oz soy sauce
¾ cup bourbon
1 cup packed brown sugar (you could sub honey)
2 tsp ground ginger
4 TB dried minced onion
1 tsp garlic powder

Slice the chicken into pieces, not too small, not diced.  Make the marinade and divide in half.  Place one half of it in a Ziploc bag with the chicken and marinate in the refrigerator overnight.  Take the other half, simmer it for about 20 minutes to cook off the alcohol in the whiskey, then thicken with a bit of cornstarch mixed with a small amount of cold water. Store this in the refrigerator until time to assemble the dish.  Make your cucumber salad… (it needs to sit a while to develop its flavor).

Drain the chicken pieces somewhat, then stir fry them quickly in a bit of olive oil, just until done (toss out the marinade the chicken was soaking in).  Do not overcook the chicken.  Heat the 2^nd half of the marinade you prepared earlier.  Drench the chicken (after cooking) in the heated sauce.  Serve over rice with a nice cucumber salad on the side!

Cucumber Salad

1½ cucumbers, peeled and diced
½ small to med red onion, diced
¼ cup cider vinegar
¼ cup water
1/6 cup sugar (this is 34 grams, or one half of a 1/3 cup measure)
Salt/pepper
1 clove garlic, cut into pieces

Mix the dressing (everything except the cucumber and onion) and let it set for about 20 minutes.  Then toss it into the vegetables and refrigerate for several hours before serving.  A really nice addition at serving time is some diced ripe tomatoes.

Note:  This dish can be prepared with chicken breast, or tenders, but it is a better dish with the thighs.  If you use white meat, it just requires care not to overcook the chicken.  Cook only a few minutes -- just enough that the pink is gone.  Again, it is a better tasting dish when using the thighs!

Food too salty?

Yesterday I made a Yankee style pot roast - you know the kind, a chuck roast browned and

Classic American Comfort Food

simmered, with roasted potatoes, carrots, celery, onion, mushrooms and a rich gravy?  Oh yeah.  I found the recipe online and because of the ingredients used to season the roast, the finished product (mostly the gravy, not the meat) turned out to be very salty.  It was too salty for me, and my Mom couldn't even have tolerated one bite.  But everything else about it was perfect.

A lot of old fashioned cooks probably know this trick -- I was not sure it would work, but I remember someone saying that potatoes soak up salt.  You can salt and salt and salt the little buggers but it just disappears into that starchy potato-ness without much effect.

So I stored the gravy from the roast separately (from the meat and vegetables, after cooking), and tonight I put that into a saucepan and added a peeled and diced russet to it.  The gravy was very thick (almost completely a solid after it cooled), so I also added a little water.  I brought it a boil then simmered it for about 30 minutes.  I added a little more water to keep it fluid, and after thirty minutes or so of cooking and another 30 minutes or so of sitting there resting, I fished the potato chunks out of the gravy with a slotted spoon, leaving as much of the gravy in the sauce pan as possible.  Then I rinsed them with a little bit more water, swished that around amongst the tater chunks, and poured that "gravy-rinse" back into the gravy in the pan.  I then tossed out the potatoes -- along with all that sodium they'd soaked up.  The remaining gravy is perfect -- all that lovely beef flavor intact and not salty at all.

You could use this same idea with other liquid foods that are overly salty, whether accidentally or otherwise.  I was happy to be able to figure out a way to "save" that gravy - it's just not Yankee Pot Roast without it.

Buen Provecho!

Cowboy Canned Supper

Use these...

Back in the olden days, cowboys often had to throw dinner together with whatever they had. Heck, I remember times when all there was, was an old burlap sack and some muddy water to make soup outta (you had to boil that a long time, which by then you might coulda rode inter town fer a steak.)  So this recipe here was for days when the chuck wagon had a bit of a surplus for Cookie to work with.  It ain't much, but it'll make you lose your appetite. 

2 slices bacon, chopped
1/4 cup or so chopped onion
1 stalk celery, chopped
1 garlic bulb, chopped
2 wienies or hot links, etc, sliced thin
1 can pintos
Salt and pepper to taste

Start by frying up the bacon until it is about halfway to crispy.  Then add the vegetables.  You can use others just as easy -- green pepper, or chilies, whatever suits you, but keep it simple.  Simple is better.  Fry those and the hot link slices (add the meat about half-way through) over med-low heat until the onions and celery are tender.  By now, the bacon should be all the way crispy.

Next step is drain off most of the bacon fat, but leave a little bit for flavor.

Dump in the pintos with their sauce and a touch of liquid smoke if you like it, or maybe a dash or two of pepper sauce, and simmer until it cooks down a little.  Salt and pepper to taste and serve it with cornbread or biskits.

This'll serve one hungry, or two skinny. Like I said, you won't be hungry no more after you-ins eat this.

This recipe came from this old guy here... he war ugly, but he wouldn't lie to ya none.

Hallowed Ground

On July 3, 1863, three divisions of Confederate soldiers, about 12,500 men and boys, led by their generals on foot and on horseback, marched for about a mile across the open ground of a Pennsylvania valley, near the town of Gettysburg. 

They concentrated and centered on this patch of ground, on a corner of this wall (just beyond the focal point of this photo) – hidden from view by the aged veterans you see standing here. 

This was perhaps the greatest military blunder ever made by Robert E. Lee.  Nearly 7,000 Confederate troops were killed or wounded in the battle (roughly 56% of the soldiers who marched that day), and about 65% of their officers were casualties.  Union defenders lost 1,500 men.

This place is called “the Angle.” Thousands of Federal defenders awaited them here, standing and crouching behind this low wall.  As the soldiers marched across the valley and came within range of the Union guns, they faced a curtain of cold steel.  Once here, the fighting became hand-to-hand and the Confederate assault appeared for a moment to be succeeding. But almost as quickly, turning as they tried to breach the Union's defenses at this corner, the "charge" broke and the Rebel advance shattered and was turned back in defeat. 

Today, this event is remembered as “Pickett’s Charge,” the high-water mark of the American Confederacy and the climax of the Battle at Gettysburg.  It marked the end of any lasting offensive success by Rebel troops in the Civil War and from this moment on the final Union victory was assured. General Lee led the demoralized remnants of his Army back to Virginia, never to venture in force into Union territory again, in the remaining (almost) two years of the Civil War.

Because of what happened here, on this ground, nearly four million of our fellow Americans were ensured their ultimate freedom, and this nation started a long process of finally fulfilling the promise of its own enshrined ideals, that “all men and women are created equal” and are deserving of freedom, inviolably deserving of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. This process is not finished, but continues today.

That pivotal moment happened here, at "the Angle," on July 3, 1863. This is sacred ground. 

On the day this photo was taken, many years later, former adversaries met each other in friendship, stretching their hands to touch each other once again across the wall they had so bloodily contested.  

Humans are such strange creatures.