"Port A" is Texas Island Style, Ya'll

Great burgers and assuming the brew is too.

Late last week after water aerobics, I took a field trip to Port Aransas or as the locals say "Port A."

Limos for the beach.

With the weather in balmy 70s, we boarded the ferry for the other side of the bay. We had hoped to catch a glimpse of dolphins making their way through the channel, but we didn't have such luck. "The really smart dolphins will come up right to your fishing line and snatch a fish off the hook," said my friend. "I get so frustrated with them. Don't they know how much live bait costs!"

New pals are hard to find.

Once we got over, we headed straight for a lunch place with handmade burger buns and moist beef patties. Then our shopping journey began. Need jewelry? There's a place. Need Mexican pottery? Then head for A Mano. But one of my favorite places was Gratitude's, a wild card/gift shop. Glitter on the floor. Shelves packed to the brim with all kinds of fun things. And the owner sports pink hair and bright reader glasses. It's definitely not for the serious minded.

One of the many stores in Port A.

Whereas my town fancies itself an artist community, Port A fancies itself a party town. One shop we tried to visit had a sign on the door that said, "Open M - F 10 a.m. - 5 p.m. Unless I decide to go fishing." On that particular day, I guess the fishing was good.

Coral, yellow and turquoise-colored stores. Palm trees. Shorts in January. It's all code for beach. If you wonder if you're close to the beach, just check out these establishment names: Moby Dicks, Pelican's Landing, Trout Street Bar, Crazy Cajun, Beach Lodge, and Beaches Cafe.

Then of course, there's the beach. What more can I say but pretty sand, rolling waves and blue sky. 

With spring break around the corner, the town is preparing for the annual swell of college kids from colder climates to Port A's beaches. I think I'll avoid the area in mid-March.

As we went back over on the ferry, we still didn't see any dolphins, but that didn't dampen our spirits. Another time perhaps. Or maybe we'll just toss a line out and hope to spot a few swimming nearby.

Wondering if Margaritaville could be any better?

The Wondering Texan

A New Shopping Experience

In the last few weeks, I've discovered a new place to shop for clothes -- my daughter's closet.

My "new" shoes.

It has only been recent that she has ditched the Hello Kitty, Aeropostle and sparkly stuff. And she's so finicky that some new stuff she has hardly worn before changing her mind that it's unacceptable. Of course, my back nine isn't the same size as hers, but shoes, belts, sweaters and tops are interchangeable.

Just the other day I dived into her closet and came up with "new" Nike shoes that barely had any miles on them. OK, there is one dog tooth mark, but hey, I'm a mom and my standards are much lower.  Her gray bolero sweater looks great with my hot pink ruffle top. When she's at school, I slide my feet into her Sperry shoes. I've inherited black, faux fur trimmed boots from her and "borrow" her headbands for yoga.

I've almost doubled my wardrobe over night and the cost is unbeatable.

Of course she's borrowed some of my stuff too. Certain tops and belts she loves. But she did make one mistake a few weeks ago. She decided to wear my sweatpants to basketball practice. They are Lycra with an elastic waistband. She told me the girls all loved the pants and asked where she got them from. She said, "they are my mom's." The other girls were shocked. "You can wear your mom's pants?" they asked. Then, she caught on. "Of course not, these stretch out a lot," she said. "Why, do you think I look fat?" She's never worn those pants since.

Wondering what to wear today. Got to go shopping.

The Wondering Texan

Quotable Quote:
Last week I took my daughter to get a pedicure as a treat for making all A's and doing great on her basketball team. As I sat waiting for her to finish, an older woman (about 80) sat next to me. To my right, I noticed a very young couple (about 18) sitting by the light drying table. I assumed he was waiting for his girlfriend's toes to finish drying. Then they got up and I saw that not only did she have a pedi, but he did too. And his nails were alternately painted black and hot pink. They paid and then he was about to put on his cowboy boots when he had second thoughts. He asked the technician, "Can I put my boots back on now?" The technician squinted her eyes and wrinkled up her nose before saying in her thick Asian accent, "NO! NO! NO!" The poor man boy looked lost. Then the older woman next to me told him, "You can't put those back on for at least an hour or two."  Looking totally beaten, he picked up his boots and walked in his little paper flip flops to his big F250 truck. "Now that's TRUE love," the older woman laughed.

"Well, at least until his friends see him," I replied. Don't you just love young love?

Lazy Dogs Welcomed

Pepper lounging on our daughter's bed.

We currently have two hunting dogs. Pepper is a German Short-Haired Pointer and Sophie is a French Brittany Spaniel. As my uncle says, the dogs are a cross between a chow hound and a sack hound.

From year one of my husband's and my marriage, we've had a hunting dog. And out of our 16 years of marriage, the only things our dogs have been able to track down is their next meal. Preferably covered with bacon grease.

Sophie favorite spot is on our bed.

It's not like we  haven't tried to groom them into real hunting dogs. We've bought pure breeds, sent them off to boarding schools, kenneled them and taken them out hunting. In return we've gotten foot warmers. And to add insult to injury, the backyard squirrels mock our dogs. The squirrels jump from limb to limb scolding our dogs and dropping acorns on them.

But not all is lost. They are great walking partners and vacuum cleaners. A Hoover should have such intake capacity.

Nap #3 in progress.

As I type, they are currently having their early morning nap. Yesterday I calculated they each have about five naps a day before bedtime. Then each retires to one of the kids` beds. The kids alternate dogs each night.

Recently my husband told me that one day, some day within the next two decades. I had to laugh. By now he should know that in our household, he would have better luck winning the state lottery. But he wants to keep the dream alive.

For a change of pace, Sophie moved to the living room.

Wondering if we bought one from the SPCA it would at least stand up to the squirrels.

The Wondering Texan

Quotable Quote:
Our son is studying the Bible for his religion badge in Cub Scouts. My husband took him to a recent meeting where the teacher asked the boys, "Who can tell me why people go to church?" Our son responded, "For funerals."  OK, that's also an area we've got to get better at.

Learning Bridge Ain't Easy

Since moving down here to the coast, everyone has told me there are three things I need to learn:
1) Play golf
2) Play bridge
3) Make really good margaritas and/or mojitos

Since I have little interest in golf and my husband is our family's resident bartender, that left bridge. I figured it can't be that hard. I underestimated the game and etiquette.

Lessons at the Women's Club started out OK, but then it became quite apparent to me there are some generational differences. The main differences are:
1) My generation still has children at home
2) My generation never turns off cell phones
3) My generation adheres to the 15 minute rule. Start times are guidelines. If you arrive within 15 minutes, you're good.

Needless to say, they find me tiresome. Jean, who is in her early 70s and has been playing for 50 years, is my teacher. I really think there have been times she's nearly thumped me on my head. One time I said, "I have to go to meet my son home from school."  She replied, "You know, once you start playing with others, that's going to be a problem." I looked at her and said, "Well, by the time I get as good as you and your friends, my family will be grown and out of the house." Seriously, by the time I'm as good as Jean, I'll be 97. My great grandchildren will probably be driving me to the game and reading the cards for me. And I'll probably be wearing slippers and a knit cap at all times.

I've told them the truth about me. I've never played cards before. Sure, there have been brief attempts at Texas Hold 'Em. I've played Bunco. And Gold Fish. But nothing like bridge. So, my questions are not meant to be amusing. Questions such as, "What's a trump?" "What's a duplicate?" "What are high card points?" routinely are met with looks of "Oh Lord, give us patience." I think some of them consider me a final test before stepping up to the pearly gates.

The other night I said, "I have to go after this game to make sure my kids get showers and get in bed." Phil, another student, said, "Oh God, I'm glad those days are behind me."  Actually, that's a comment I've heard quite a few times. Usually I laugh and respond, "My generation feels the same way about young people with newborns."

But, as time goes on I think I'm growing on them. At the last lesson, Jean said, "OK, on Monday be here by 11:30 and it's a state lunch." To which I had to ask, "What's a state lunch?" The answer is you bring a dish popular to you're native state. I can do this! "Great, I'll bring chicken enchiladas," I responded. Needless to say, they can't wait to see me on Monday.

Wondering if I should arrive by 11:15 a.m. Monday to be on the safe side?

The Wondering Texan

Cooking Venison, Another Red Meat

The perfect cooker filled with mesquite wood.

While on the ranch in Noodle, Texas, the guys shot some deer. Deer season for hunters means sitting in a cold deer blind in the wee hours of the morning, trying to be as quiet as possible, and praying you don't have to relieve yourself thus scaring any deer around.

Cutting any fat or gristle off

I'm all too familiar with deer season. When my husband and I became engaged, he told me to pick a weekend to wed. A few days later he asked, "Have you picked a Saturday?" Well, yes, I had. The first weekend in November. I thought it was perfect. Not too close to the holidays. It will be cooler. And it was enough time to plan a wedding. "We can't!" he shrieked. "It's opening of deer season. None of my friends will come. Even your Dad would be hard pressed to come."

So, this was the beginning of being a hunter's wife. And as such, I have learned to cook quail, pheasant, fish, and of course, venison.

Cutting against the grain makes the meat more tender

Venison is a really delicious meat and healthy due to its leanness. But be careful. Don't overcook it. It's so lean that it's easy to overcook rendering it jerky.

Frying in a season cast iron skillet is the best method.

At the ranch, the guys got to work cleaning the deer, cutting the meat into fillets or grinding it into chili meat, and then cooking it. One night they guys made us Chicken Fried Venison and Grilled Back Strap Venison. While us gals were thankful for not having to cook, we eyed the looming piles of dishes. As Scarlet would say, "I'll worry about that tomorrow." But no matter, I took notes on how to cook it.


Chicken Fried Venison made with the ham (leg) part:

Preparing the meat:
Cut meat off bone
Cut meat against the grain into fillets
Tenderize the meat by covering it with Saran Wrap and hitting with a mallet or iron skillet

Dipping mixture:
Pour a couple of cups of milk into a pan
Add some eggs (we used 3)
Add a little Lee & Perrine's sauce.

Flour mixture:
Add flour to a pie pan. Add salt and pepper to taste. Paprika is also nice.

Chicken frying the venison:

Grilling over medium heat with mesquite wood.

Soak venison in milk mixture for a few minutes. Then coat in flour mixture. In a cast iron skillet add some Canola oil. Add coated venison. Cook for about three minutes. Turn over and cook for another 2 - 3 minutes. Careful not to overcook. Let meat rest.


Grilled Venison using back strap fillets:
Season fillets with garlic powder, lemon pepper, Kosher salt. Marinade it in a little red wine if desired.
Put fillets on grill heated to between 325 - 350 degrees. Cook for 6 - 7 minutes, turning once, depending on the thickness of the fillets. You want the fillets cooked to medium rare. Let meat rest.

Moist, tasty and ready to eat.

Venison Chili in a Slow Cooker
I used a recipe from Southern Living and modified it for my family's taste buds.

2 lbs. ground venison
1 C chopped onion
1 T Worcestershire sauce
2 teaspoons chili powder
28 oz. can whole tomatoes
16 oz. can pinto beans, drained
15 oz. can tomato sauce
1 teaspoon ground cumin
a couple of cloves of garlic
about a 1/4 cup red wine
1/2 can green chili's
A little jalapeno juice
Freshly ground pepper and salt to taste

Cook venison in a cast iron skillet with onion, Worcestershire sauce, chili powder over medium-high heat until browned stirring until crumbled.

Place meat mixture in electric slow cooker. Add tomatoes and remaining ingredients. Cover with lid and cook on high for 1 hour. Then reduce to low setting and cook for three hours. 

Serve with condiments such as grated cheddar cheese, sour cream, green onions or, if you're like my kids, Frito's.

Now I'm wondering if I can make venison meat balls for spaghetti.
 
The Wondering Texan

Quotable Quote:
Yesterday our 10-year-old son approached my husband and said out of the blue, "Dad, do you know if you were a dog, you'd be ancient!" The kid has guts! Hope he makes it to 11.

On the Ranch in Noodle, Texas

Over the holiday we visited with our friends way out west on their ranch in Noodle, Texas. Don't you just love that name? Noodle is a little spit of a town with more coyotes and cows than people. There actually is a "coyote tree." A rancher has strung up some coyotes from a tree in accordance with an old wives tale that says it keeps other coyotes away.

A perfect, but cold, sunset.

Being at the ranch seemed like a perfect opportunity to test out our new camera. Miles of horizon and quiet afternoons were interrupted by Lady Gaga music as my 13-year-old and their 14-year-old daughter practiced driving the family's Suburban through the ranch.

 I practiced taking pictures using different angles, focuses and settings. "Turn off the flash and see what happens," Robert, our host, said as I tried to shoot the sunset. "I would, but I don't know how. I haven't read the directions yet," I told him. "You sound like my wife," he said and walked off. I'm not sure if that's good or bad. But I like Liz, so I assume it's good.

So, here are some of the photos of the ranch in Noodle. I'm sure I can do better with time and reading the directions. Now, where did I put those directions?

Past trespassers.

A December sunset.

Can you see the buck by the feeder?

Many nights we spent by the fire.

Two bucks sparring.