Beneath A Sodden Sky

A sodden sky so smudged with soot,

The wind that streaks my face with tears,

A ground that crackles under foot,

The dreary months turn into years.

And although the snow is gone,

Frost coats limbs and rotting leaves,

The breath of winter lingers on

And my sunny soul bereaves.

Oh how I long for April’s blast

Of sun filled skies and flowers strewn

And dream the trill that love songs cast

By birds that flutter ‘neath the moon.

But, fire crackles in the hearth, 

While songbirds shiver in the night.

It’s winter’s dreary lack of mirth

Oh how I long for spring’s rebirth.

Lost Blessings of the Sun

My discontentment grows each day.

Will deity push smudged clouds away

And warm the air in heaven’s hair

And give me raiments, arms to bare?

My discontenting thoughts pervade

With hoary frost lost promise paid.

But cry no tears, nor weave the cloth

The tapestries of summer’s loss.

The snowy crown of brightness white

Now soiled with gray and black with blight.

I fear the full, once gleaming sun

Has lost the battle.  Winter’s won.

And now upon my shoe will play

An ugly mud, an ugly day

My toil up barren hills begun

I crave the blessings of the sun.

Snow

A soft white blanket smooths each path,

And fills the blacked faults of trees,

Their limbs so high and stark above

Now share the wealth of winter’s love.

But now my footsteps, every tread,

Blemish nature’s perfect way

And leave the scars of beauty lost

No crossing comes without a cost.

But soon will dawn another day

And blanket once again the land

‘Till winter’s beauty is a ghost

And Spring’s green song again will boast.

Oh, that our taste of winters cease,

The whitened hair, the wilted brow,

And once more our Spring begin,

And our sweet youth to bloom again.

Although I yearn for flowers bright

And sun that burns a golden path,

I shan’t be blind to winter’s fare

But savor beauty while it’s here.

Stewed Champagne Pork With Root Vegetables

Winter is stew time, chili time, roast vegetable time, built a fire and sip some champagne time.  Outside it’s frosty, snowing.  Winds rip through you like an icy knife.  

Know a great…not just good…stew recipe?  Oh, hell yeah!

Bursting with melded vegetable favors, herbs, apple juice, champagne, and of course…..Pork!, this redolent  stew will make nostrils flare like beach umbrellas and your taste buds forget about whiskey and women.  Ok, maybe that’s an exaggeration.  Who can forget about whiskey?  But, it’ll come damn close.

Listen carefully, cause I’m only going to say this twice:  The Key is Good Pork.

I used a well-marbled, pork shoulder, but the cut is not as important as the meat itself.  We’ve come to assume: “Pork, the other white meat!”

Here’s a secret.  Swine enhanced by growth hormones, anti-biotic flim-flam, and unnatural feeds produce white meat.  Pork raised correctly is not white.  Feed ‘em well, let ‘em wander the barnyard, and you’ve got happy pigs.  But, how can you tell?  Let your eyes do the work:  Pork should be as red as beef.  If you see pale pink or nearly white pork, treat it like you would gray beef.

Now that you’ve mastered today’s lesson, here’s a fabulous recipe that will make your guests swoon and your true love promise to love you forever…or at least through the weekend.

Stewed Champagne Pork with Root Vegetables

Feeds 4

1 ½ pounds well-marbled, pork shoulder! (cut into one inch cubes)

Coarse salt and freshly ground pepper

3 Tablespoons vegetable oil (I use Safflower Oil)

1 Large leek (white and light green parts only) thinly sliced into rounds

3 Cloves garlic, peeled and thinly sliced

3 Sprigs of fresh thyme (I toss in the whole sprigs, stems and all)

2 Tablespoons all-purpose flour

¾ Cup natural apple juice (the cloudy kind, not clear)

¾ Cup dry Champagne or sparkling wine

2 ½ Cups low-sodium chicken broth (if you’re using packets, use 3 for 2 ½ Cups water)

1 Large parsnip, peeled and chunked

2-3 Stalks celery, rinsed and cut crosswise into bits

2 medium carrots, peeled and chunked

Season the pork with salt and pepper.  Put part of the oil in a deep pan (or Dutch oven) and heat to medium high.  Cook the pork in batches, for 5-7 minutes or until mildly browned.  As the pork is cooked, transfer it to a plate.

Add the rest of the oil and the leeks, garlic, and thyme.  Cook a few minutes until the leek is wilted.  Stir in the flour for a minute or so.

Add the apple juice and champagne and bring to a quick boil.  Use a long spoon, or spatula to scrape up any browned bits on the bottom of the pan. Add the broth and toss in the pork.  Add the vegetables.  Bring to a boil, then reduce to a bare simmer.  Cover the pot and cook for an hour. (Careful not to boil away all the liquid!)

Season with salt and pepper.

I served this with English peas and mashed potatoes.

Drink the rest of the Champagne and use those last few crusty bits of baguette to good advantage!

Watch the women go wild and the husbands get nervous.

Our Small Corner of Germany: Autumn to Winter

Our backyard is a wonderful, wild garden, free to twist and change in wind and weather. Trees and hedges.  Winsome, sweet grasses.  Flowers of striking color in the spring, or somber black stalks in December.

Some of the things I like best about the garden, aside from not having a lawn to mow and leaving the gardening to my dirt-loving wife, are the constant changes of color and design from season to season.  It’s been a while since we’ve lived with a year cleaved into four distinct quarters.  The subtleties from one season to the next, dance slowly and blur the edges, yet unite and glide them in a masterly symphony of nature.

            Germany is a country of sheer, never ending beauty, from the rolling green hills and meadows of springtime, to the year around rugged grandeur of the Alps; from the dark, and mysterious forests, swollen with lush summer greenery, to the white blanketed fields and black skeletal trees of winter.

            Our backyard garden is a microcosm of Germany’s seasonal wonders.  I sit and read and sip my morning coffee, sometimes outside and sometimes in, glancing up to marvel at nature’s ever changing tableaux.