Wednesday, November 15, 2006

Sometimes you just walk out the door ...



Yes, sometimes you just walk out the door and you find yourself a ready-made blog. Given that Old Ken has been a bit stressed, depressed and generally down in the dumps of late, I reckon that if and when such times do arrive, you just have to run with it.

So, first off, our first discovery is a fine security badge left on the sidewalk. Not terribly exciting, I'll confess. But, when you find it less than a hundred yards from your front door when you leave your house in the morning, you might get an inkling that curiosities are afoot.



And indeed they are! Were that I had altered this sign to make it more frightful. But, I just haven't! Curry Mutton? Stewed Chicken? Sounds fabulous. But combine that with Snapper Fish, Plain Rice, and the mysterious "Hard Food," and I am sold. "But, hang on," I hear you saying. "Haven't you neglected the most important item - - the Oxtail?"

Well, I like to think I've done one better. For, below, you'll find a recipe for what I think is on offer here: Oxtail soup. How do I make that scrumptious sounding concoction, you say? Here it is:

Oxtail Soup

Ingredients
2 pounds oxtail, cut in 1 to 1-1/2-inch chunks and trimmed of excess fat
[But why? The fattier the tail, the better!]
1/2 cup unsifted flour plus 2 tablespoons
2 tablespoons beef drippings [YUM!] or cooking oil
2 medium-size yellow onions, peeled and minced
2 quarts water, or 6 cups water and 1 pint beef broth or bouillon
2 tablespoons tomato paste
2 teaspoons salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper
1 bay leaf
1/2 teaspoon thyme
3 cloves
2 sprigs parsley
2 medium-size carrots, peeled and diced
1 stalk celery, diced
1/3 cup dry sherry or port wine (optional)

Instructions
Dredge [yes, that is an appropriate verb!] oxtail in 1/2 cup flour, then brown in drippings in a large, heavy kettle over high heat; drain on paper toweling. Turn heat to moderate and stir-fry onions 8 to 10 minutes until golden; sprinkle in remaining flour, mix well, and brown lightly. Slowly add water, stir in tomato paste, salt, and pepper, also bay leaf tied in cheesecloth with thyme, cloves, and parsley. Return oxtail to kettle, cover, and simmer 3 hours until meat is fork tender; cool and skim off fat; remove cheesecloth bag. Separate meat from bones, cut in bite-size pieces, and return to kettle along with carrots and celery. Cover and simmer 10 to 15 minutes until carrots are tender; if you like, mix in sherry. Serve as is or strain kettle liquid, serve as a first course, and follow with oxtail and vegetables.

I know I'm hungry!




Well, our third find is a billboard I have been wanting to write about for sometime. As the photograph above suggests, we look out onto a landscape with a gun-toting adventurer in a pith helmet occupying the immediate foreground. Like us, he fights the brilliant starburst of sunlight that punctures the azure sky as he gazes toward the horizon. And there, amidst a tawny sea of sand is his quarry!



A humped-back creature marches purposefully forward, having just descended a sand dune in the middle distance. "Hush," we can imagine our hunter telling us gruffly: "There is Profitus Maximus!" Although the traces it has left in the sand look like human footprints, this strange beast seems to walk on chicken legs.



The bird analogy extends to the pointed, beak-like protrusion, which juts just above the horizon at the right edge of the picture. Given the eyes which float disembodied over said beak, perhaps we are to see this as some sort of Roadrunner-like creature - - one which haunts the wilds and wastes of the desert.


But, wait: exactly where is this supposed to be? I associate the pith helmet, the Sahara-like dunes, and what appears to be the skull and antlers of an ibex in the right foreground with Africa. So, does this mean that our profit-hunter is scanning the war-torn, desolate expanses of the developing world for profits that can be exploited? I'm sure that the answer would be "yes." But, exactly how will the terms of the analogy work from here? That is, is our hunter about to shoot this profit with his gun? Perhaps he will only injure it, then stuff it in his capacious back-back (about which the image-making has certainly provided ample pictorial information), and then bring it home so it can pump out some nest-eggs?

Now, as you can imagine, Old Ken knows nothing about economics. But, the whole conceit of this picture turns on the naturalization of capitalist profiteering. That is, the assertion is that profits are like lions, zebras or some other kind of big game that is just out there to be "bagged." So, why the chicken feet? Why not emphasize the trophy-like character of the profit? Is the pictorial intent to make the profit seem completely defenseless and, implicitly, risk free?



Another image in the same advertizing scheme makes this culture of competitive, man-on-man action all the more clear. Certainly, the two country gents in the foreground of the image above have had a drink or five and, leering at us as if to join them, are about to disappear into the bushes to chase this phallic "profit" and give it what for.

Should you have alterante takes on these baffling mysteries, though, I'm all ears.