Making Conversation In A Bar Making Soap Into A Bar

22 01 2008

Now here’s how you do it.
For every four fingers of good whiskey you down a glass of water. At the beginning, you pop a couple of B12 vee-tamins. Good for the liver. Balances levels of CDT, MCV, and hepatic enzymes GGT. To temper the maelstrom that is to come later in the night, ingest a couple of cups of strong java intermittently.
What I loathe the most is being served drinks by bartenders with baseball hats on backwards.
I once ordered Johnnie Walker “neat” and got back a pint glass full of ice and water, with a bit of whiskey floating around. It looked like ice tea.
Served by an Asian frat boy with a dirty baseball cap.
On backwards.

“You hear about the man with maggots in his eyes who died?”
“No.”
“They found him in a nursing home in Deltona, Florida. Man had maggots in one of his eyes, an infected breathing tube, a partially inserted catheter, and bed sores. Apparently he was under constant care.”
“Sounds like he was.”

Now here’s how you do it.
For every liter-and-a-half bottle of red wine, you crank out a multi-veetamin and a cup of espresso with anisette.
No more than three smokes per night.
And frequent trips to the washroom to process out the sulfites.

“That 94-year-old man they found in Morristown, Tennessee had his hand cut off.”
“Did he now?”
“They’re thinking it was some kind of botched robbery.”
“Do they now?”
“Found a couple of butcher knives right next to the body. They’re saying he died a horrible death.”
“We all do.”
“Do we now?”

Now here’s how you do it.
Put on your gloves and goggles. Be careful with the lye. Read the label. It is a caustic and dangerous substance. It makes wonderful soap, but it is not your friend. It’ll burn a hole in your skin. The first thing you need to do is put your scale in your sink, place the empty container on it, THEN turn on the scale, THEN start pouring your water in. Weigh 32 ounces of COLD water in a plastic container. Never use hot water to mix with lye, it will volcano! Very slowly, pour the lye into the cold water. Make sure you leave everything in the sink. It is safer that way. Lye has a lot of static cling, so spills are easy to do. You’ll notice the lye reacts with the cold water and it gets very hot. It’ll also give off a gas, that’s why you should be outside. Don’t breathe the fumes. When it is stirred, put the cap on the lye solution and bring it back inside. Let your lye sit in a safe place until it cools off to room temperature. This will take two to three hours. When the lye gets back down to room temperature you’re ready to start making your soap. Start weighing out your fats. Put the pot full of fats on the stove. Heat on the stove, stirring often. Keep a close eye on it because it reaches temperature somewhat quickly. Stir well before taking its temperature. You’re looking for something between 120 and 130 degrees Fahrenheit. When your fats reach that, put your pot in the sink. If you made the lye solution the day before, it is now at room temperature. Put on your gloves and goggles. Very carefully and slowly pour the lye solution into the fats. Use a large spoon to stir it in. Hold your head back while pouring to avoid any splash back getting you. Once the lye solution is mixed in, use the stick blender. Use it off and on. Careful, continuous use will blow it up. Blend for a minute, stir with a spoon for a minute, that kind of thing. You should come to a very thick soap with this equipment, probably in about 5 minutes. You will see changes in your creation. It will immediately start to become more opaque. It will become thicker and more opaque as time goes on. This is the mixture changing into soap. Immediately pour your soap into your molds. Let it sit undisturbed in a warm room for 24 hours. As the chemical reaction is taking place it generates heat. If you put your hand on the side of the box in about 1 hour, you will feel its warmth. That’s it. Oh yea, grab some ph testing papers. The soap ought to fall in the 7-9 category.





Cookin’ with Mister Señor Love Daddy

11 01 2008

I stayed with him in Slidell, Louisiana in his small trailer on 5th Street by Possum Hollow Park. He was making gumbo and nearly yelling out his frustration with the politics of fishing.
“It ain’t been easy bein’ in the strimp bidness. Last fishin’ season’s just fouree days long, which’s two days better’n the las’ season and foureen days better’n niney-two. On the bright side, em days seem to be increasin’.”
And he stirred the giant pot. While I decimated his collection of Old Grandad. Later, we walked to Greenwood Cemetery and he showed me where his mama was buried. Her headstone said: “Don’t Try.”
That’s it.
We took muffulletas wrapped in newspaper and ate by her grave and washed it down with cheap, red wine from a two-liter jug.
“Is all this teevee ‘n radio ads talkin’ bout alls-you-can-eat strimp, is what it is. Is killin’ us. Goddainm.”
He breaded up and fried some speckled trout and redfish and we went hard at the Maker’s Mark, which he had saved for my last night there. He talked about a little fifteen-footer that was for sale at the Lafitte C-Way Marina and how it’d have to be cleaned up and restored. If he’d had the money.
“Uhr-body got they dreams…”
Mine was just as unattainable as his. And we both hung to possibilities which seemed to run away faster with each glass of bourbon.
In the morning I started the car and took the 12 to the 55, which spilled me onto 40 west.
“Stay ‘way from Opelousas,” he said. “They’s a sherrif there who a sonofabitch to people a color like you’n me. A sonofabitch an’ a half.”
Tinseltown was next.