On the Seventh Day...

God created the universe in six days, and on the seventh day he rested (but also may have made some ribs).  I'm incredibly blessed to have stumbled upon the best ribs I've ever had, and I just happen to have a recipe for it.

This time, I used a rack of spareribs I'd purchased from the West Michigan Co-op.  Specifically, this particular rack came from S & S Lamb near McBain, MI.  I've known the owners, Pierre and Sharon Schierbeek (for the non-Dutch among us, it is pronounced "skeerbick"), for near 12 or 13 years now.  I'd prefer to use a baby-back or loin-back rack, but I'll use whatever is available.

First step: create the rub.
-1/2 Cup brown sugar
-2 Tablespoons kosher salt
-1 Tablespoon chili powder
-2 teaspoons freshly-ground pepper

The second thing to do is to get rid of as much sinew as possible from the back of the rack.  It helps to use a paper towel to get a hold of the slippery stuff.

Once that is accomplished, rub the rub on the ribs, and wrap them in plastic wrap or put them in a big zip-loc bag.  Let them marinate in the refrigerator like that for 3 hours or so, or even overnight if it makes is more convenient. When you pull them out, they'll look something like this:

Then go watch a movie or something.  I'd recommend the Shawshank Redemption.

The next task is to get the grill ready.  First, soak some apple wood chips in water for 30 minutes.

Next, get your charcoal going, and when they're white, arrange them so they are piled on the opposite side of the grill from the vent.  This way, the heat and smoke have to travel over the meat to escape.  Place a drip pan under the rib side, place the ribs under the vent, and drop a small handful of wood chips directly on the coals.  Close the lid and check on them in 30 minutes.

Flip the ribs every 30 minutes or so, and after 2 hours, apply some Sweet Baby Ray's.  Keep flipping and basting with the sauce two or three more times over the course of an hour to an hour and a half.

Now, you will be very tempted to just start digging in, but don't.  Take them off the grill and keep them wrapped in tin foil for 30 minutes.  While you're waiting, make yourself some lemonade or a nice micro brew, put on some Billie Holiday, and chill (save the stogie for after).  Thank God for ribs at this time, maybe.  then again, you'll probably be thanking him anyway after you taste these suckers.  Have fun!

A Couple of Thoughts

I pity people whose world is small.

I find it interesting how the worst thing that ever happened to me is also the best thing that ever happened to me.

The Genographic Project

     It was at Christmas at my parent's place in Iowa a few years ago that we were gathered around the dining room table discussing something that eventually led to my Dad pulling out what he had of the family tree.  I was hooked from the start.  I think there were probably 10 names or so on that piece of paper, and that just wasn't good enough for me.  I wanted to know more.  I wanted to know who these people were.  What was their world like?  What made them who they were, and what about them remains in me?  It's the Big Question.  Who am I and from where did I come?  So I started Googling names, visiting libraries, going to Heritage Hall at Calvin, and doing lots of research.  Three years later, I had increased the number of names in my family tree to around 750 (I don't know for sure- haven't counted).  At one point, I was able to find my earliest ancestor, "Jarich Hainga", who was born sometime around the year 1380.  So that just begged the question: "What was life like for Jarich?" The only answers would be found in what was left of the historical record through sciences such as archaeology.  And before that?  Anthropology and...genetics?  I'd hit a wall at the year 1380, and I wanted to know more about Jarich's ancestors, too.
     With the advent of population genetics, one is now able to estimate what route their ancestors took out of Africa, as well as what people share most of your DNA.

     It came in the mail the other day.  The project on which I have wanted to work for almost 2 years now.  It's called the Genographic Project by National Geographic.  https://genographic.nationalgeographic.com/genographic/lan/en/index.html
     After working on my family tree for a while now, I can say with some confidence that I am 100% Dutch/Frisian.  However, there may be a surprise or two in the results, which should arrive on my doorstep in approximately eight weeks.  If there is a surprise, such as some Native American or African markers, I will be....surprised, but intrigued at the same time.  It's another puzzle for me to figure out, and I love me some puzzles. 
     My academic record is abysmal.  I have ADD and didn't know it until I was a junior in High Shool.  It went untreated, and I continued to fail at school.  So it may be understood that, until I started work on my family history, I was unsure as to whether I possessed a fair amount of intelligence.  My successes in this area boosted my confidence to the point that I went back to school to pursue a B.A. in History, and I hope to get a Master's (or, dare I say it?  A Doctorate?) also.
      So, with a new-found focus, I made the Dean's List for the first time in my life, with a GPA of 3.898- something I would never have thought possible.  A friend pointed out to me the other day that I have my ancestors to thank for this.  She was right (thanks Terri).

West Michigan Co-op

     I've been on a green bent for the past couple of years, but I'm committing myself to it more and more these days.  I am reading "The Omnivore's Dilemma" by Michael Pollan, and it has a tendency to keep me up at night.  It has inspired me to eat more locally, and as part of this movement, I have joined the West Michigan Co-op.  I picked up my purchases today after work: cherries, multi-grain bread, organic Gouda, mesclun, pork spare ribs, sirloin, eggs, milk, and a weird mix of snap beans.  I hope to use our local farmers on a more consistent basis.  By the way- the Gouda is fantastic!

Hot Yoga

As part of my journey to a healthier me, I vowed to get more exercise. When a friend told me that she was doing something called "Hot Yoga" and that she was loving it, I thought I'd give it a try, as the first class is free anyway.  When I walked in, the reception room felt warm.  When I walked into the studio, I missed the time that I'd spent in the reception room.  In the practice of hot yoga, the studio is kept at a temperature of 95 degrees, whilst you and your cohorts are subjects to the sadistic whims of the instructor for 75 minutes.  "Fold!", "Get your butt up higher!", "Back straight!", etc...  Just out of curiosity, I weighed myself before and after the class.  The difference was five pounds.  That was just the first class.  In my fourth class- yesterday- the power had gone out in the neighborhood and the reception room was at what seemed to be 95.  The studio itself then was a much warmer 100 or so.  All I know is that it was much hotter than average.  In my first class, I made it 30 minutes into the workout.  In my second, I made it for 50, and in last night's class, I made it for an hour!  It was the most amazing workout I've had in years!  Sweat pours out of you and falls into your towel, and you know that you're doing something right.  Something that's good for you.  Something metamorphic. 
     As of today, I have lost 100 pounds.  Only 43-68 more to go...

Another Go

This is not my first blog.  I think I was uncommitted to the first, and therefore there are only a handful of posts.  I've decided to give it another try.