cold smokin'

Living in the mountains has its ups and downs. Flowing with Nature is the crest. Skiing, kayaking, flyfishing, cooking on a 12 foot fire pit in your front yard, a front yard sans a Camaro on blocks. Although back in the day, I had a friend who said his Camaro was so clean he could cook a chicken under the hood.

In contrast, the only flow in Nature that I would consider to be the trough would be mud season and a 3 week growing season. Mud season comes when the permafrost thaws, and our ¼ mile driveway turns into 1320 feet of mushroom soup for a month.

So, yesterday, I was making 30 lbs. of some Texas Hot Links and Yucatan Plantain Sausage for eats at my wedding. It was 65 F outside and I wanted to put some cold smoke on the sausages for a finishing touch. The little voice said, “I wish it was cooler out, so that the fat would remain solid during the smoking phase.” Nature responded, and lo, the temperature dropped quickly.

After seeing some green grass, buds on the trees, birds coming back, I had turned the page on Winter. To see how chilly it was going to get, I checked the weather report and they said 6”-14” snow. “Really? April 28th?” said the big voice, I had a yummy mouthful of Spring and wasn’t spitting it out. Then I looked over at the sausage. The sausage looked back. We winked at one another. A few hours later, we was cold smokin’.