Monday, November 30, 2015

Fish and Chips

Our Mom, Alice was from St. Johns, Newfoundland and married our Dad, Jim when he was stationed there in WWII. One of her favorite things to eat was fish and chips (French fries) and she used to make it for us kids when we were growing up. The authentic way to serve fish and chips is to wrap them in a newspaper page shaped as a cone.
  • 1 lb. fish fillets
  • 1 egg yolk
  • 1-1/2 cups cooking oil for frying
  • 2 tablespoons water
  • 1/2 cup flour
  • 1 tablespoon vegetable oil
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 1/4 cup flour
Cut fish into serving-size pieces. In medium bowl, first combine 1/2 cup flour and salt. To make the batter, make a "well" in the center; add egg yolk, water and 1 tablespoon vegetable oil. Stir until batter is smooth. Fold in egg white. Dip fish in the remaining 1/4 cup flour, then into batter. Deep fry fish until golden brown in cooking oil heated to 375 degrees (about 1-1/2 minutes on each side). Serves 3-4.

To make the French fries, slice 2 large russet potatoes into long strips. Fry the potatoes in the same oil used to fry the fish, until golden brown. Remove the fries from the oil with a strainer and allow to dry briefly.

The Bear

Hunting was, pretty much, a way of life for me. I started out settin snares for birds and rabbits and used slingshots for squirrels and finally traded a mess of skins for a 30-30 Winchester and used that rifle for many years. I know a lot of guys opt for the high-powered rifles nowadays, like the semi-automatic 30-06 and the 7mm's. Those are well and good, but with a good 30-30 (we pronounce that thuty-thuty), you can put the balls in a 1-inch circle at 150 yards all day long. In the swamps, if you get a shot much over 20 or 30 yards, it will be because a tree has fallen down. It is some kind of thick in there. After several years of hunting with the thuty-thuty, I finally gave it up for a black powder rifle I made and finally gave up guns all together and hunted only with a bow and arrow.

My favorite hunting area was just in the edge of the Dismal Swamps. This is in Beaufort County, North Carolina and is home to deer, bear, alligators and every kind of poisonous snake on the North American Continent. Including water moccasins, cottonmouths, coral snakes, and diamond back rattlers. I don't kill the snakes. I figure God put them here to do a job and their business ain't none of mine. I didn't worry about the gators, cause unless you got real dumb, they were no problem.

Over the years I had been seeing and hunting for this one particular black bear, but rarely, if ever saw him during hunting season. This bear had a track about 6-1/2 inches across and claws about 4 inches long and I followed that track enough miles to recognize it anyplace in the swamps. Bear season is about a month after deer season starts and is only 1 week long. When I would go deer/bear hunting, I would generally stay out in the swamps until dark and then come on back to the cabin. The part of the Dismal Swamps I hunted in was about 15 miles across and a little over 30 miles long. So it would be pitch dark by the time I would walk the 2 or 3 miles out of the swamps. When I was too far out and there was much quicksand in the area I would climb up a Live Oak and spend the night in the fork of a limb. No need to bother with a light, cause you would just get confused and lost if you tried to actually see your way. I never did get lost in the swamps, but once I was mighty confused for a day. It took me most of the next day to walk back from where I finally came out.

Once, I was in the swamps and a hurricane blew through. When I had walked in I was on dry land. When I came out I was wading in water up to my waist and from the edge of the swamps out to the first land that was not under water was over a mile away. My pocket watch in my bib overalls was a quarter of the way filled with water. That was a lot of rain. Just to give you an idea of how much rain can fall in a hurricane, we had a big one about 3 years ago and it flooded a lot of eastern North Carolina up to a depth of 8 feet. Over 38,000 homes were destroyed.

Anyway, back to the bear. One night I had finally worked my way out of the Dismals to where the trail forked off to the left to my cabin. It was a moonlight night and I could see this big ole hound dog walking down the trail towards me. We keep getting closer and closer to each other, until he was about 10 feet from me and then he turned off the trail going up into the trees alongside the trail going to my cabin. When he made the turn I could see that it wasn't a hound at all, but it was that big ole black bear. That was a lonesome walk up that half-mile long trail. Another time I was up in a homemade tree stand out in back of the cornfield and about a mile back in the woods. Dusk is about the best time for deer hunting and it was just starting to get kinda dark when I heard a low grunt. Sometimes a deer will grunt and I got my bow and arrow ready and was peering out into the trees and brush looking as hard as I could. Couldn't see a dang thing. Kept hearing that low grunt though.

About that time my tree stand kinda jumped and I looked down. There was that dang ole black bear with his paws on my tree stand looking up at me. It was not bear season and I could not legally shoot; I'm not saying that I ran out of the woods, but if that bear had managed to claw me, he would have done serious damage to my butt. Just to let me know that he was boss of the woods, the bear got to where he would either claw up the trees I had stands in or he would claw and chew up my tree stands. On two separate occasions, he drug up deer he had gotten from someplace and ate them within sight of my tree stand. That bear and I had many run ins over the years and I kinda got to where I halfway expected him to be someplace close by. I'm not going to tell about killing him. I can't think of any humorous way to tell it and to be quite truthful, I miss that bear something bad. I don’t hunt anymore.

- Bob Gurkin

Wednesday, November 4, 2015

Moonshine Recipe

Moonshine Recipe

Always remember. Think before you drink!  Hmmmm, do I have enough moonshine for the party tonight?
Materials
  • 1 - 5-gallon container with a bottle neck (glass works best)
  • 1 - cork with a hole through it
  • 1 - small funnel with an extended glass end (a straw or glass tube will work)
  • 1 - balloon
  • 5 lb bag of sugar (Optional--2-3 pkgs of fruit)
  • Any amount of brewers yeast. (Can be ordered from any chemical supply co)
Process
Start off by mashing the berries (if you have them) into a pulp. If you have the berries you are making wine, if not, you are making shine.  Pour the berries into the container and add the yeast. Slide the glass funnel or straw through the cork. Place the balloon over the funnel or the part of the straw that will be outside the bottle. Cork the bottle and place it in a well-heated place. After a couple of days the balloon will have inflated. Crack the cork open and let some of the air out (not all of it though!).  Smells good doesn’t it? Keep this up for about 5 weeks, until the balloon no longer inflates.
Filtration
Remove the cork and set up some type of filtration into another container. Use a funnel along with a filter (coffee filters work great).  Pour all of the mix through the filter. After the filtration you have wine/moonshine. This needs to age a bit to really start tasting good. It will taste pretty good right out of the bottle, but will taste better a month later. Store it in glass containers in a cool dark place.
Like it Stronger?
After distillation, the mix is about 20 to 30 proof.  If you can obtain a distiller, distill the alcohol out and remove some of the liquid.  Add the alcohol back in.  You can make it as strong as you like – 170 to 180 proof is easily obtained.

-Bob Gurkin

Kilgore Futch and the Motorcycle

Kilgore Futch and the Motorcycle

Kilgore and his brother Boo Hutch were two of the roughest customers in the Dismal Swamps. Both wore their hair long and combed back into a 'Ducktail'. They always had a pack of Bull Durham tobacco in their shirt pockets and the string with the round paper tab was always hanging on the outside of that pocket. They wore heavy engineers boots that were shod with steel toe and heel taps and the boys called them 'stompin' boots'. Their shirtsleeves would be rolled up two laps and you would never find them without a toothpick stuck in the comer of their mouths. If a moonshine still got robbed or a hog stolen or the general store broken into, the High Sheriff always paid them a visit first, but he always had 2 or 3 deputies with him when he went.
One hot summer day, Kilgore came riding up Main Street in Selma, NC on one of the prettiest motorcycles I have ever seen and was it throwing up a nice plume of dust behind him. He revved the motor and kicked it into a slide and skidded right up to the boardwalk in front of the General Store. What part of the motorcycle that wasn't chromed was pure, snow white. It had a 2 cycle, upright motor on it and had 2 spark plugs even though both of them were on top of the only cylinder on the motor. It was some kinda pretty and would do a top speed of 45 mph. This was in the days when the national speed limit was only 35. On the side of the gas tank was emblazoned "Simplex Service Cycle" with the wings of eagles sprouting behind those words. A belt ran from the motor up to a clutch assembly and then a bigger belt went from that clutch to a big pulley that went around the rim of the rear wheel. I wanted that motorcycle some kinda bad.
About 3 months later I was over to the roadhouse and a few of us boys were in the back room, tugging on a little shine and playing poker. About 10 that night here come Kilgore. He joined in the game and it won't very long till it was just him and me playing stud poker, no limit (which won't very much for us). We had a couple of good hands between us and finally up came one hand in which Kilgore was showing 3 of a kind and I was showing an Ace high spade flush. Kilgore bet a couple of times and on the last card I hit it with everything I had. Kilgore studied long and hard and finally in the face of that flush he folded. As I was raking in the pot I let my hold card "accidentally" turn over and it showed the 3 of hearts. I had won that pot on a busted flush. Kilgore got really quiet and I could see that he was about as mad as I have ever seen him get without someone getting hurt. He didn't say a word and we kept playing. About 7:00 am I was starting to get a little tuckered but Kilgore would not stop. Then on the next hand he was showing 4 cards to a straight and was betting pretty heavy. I was showing 4 cards to a diamond flush and didn't raise any, but wouldn't fold. On the last card I placed a modest bet and Kilgore called and raised by sliding all of his money into the middle of the table. I called, then I raised by putting my Winchester 30-30 on top of the pile. Kilgore had to call or fold. He got a thoughtful look on his face and slowly slid his wallet out and took out the registration paper to the Simplex motorcycle. I nodded my acceptance and with a chortle he turned over an Ace to give him a high straight. The boys standing around all sighed and it looked like my Winchester was going home with Kilgore this day. With fingers that trembled ever so slightly, I turned over the Ace of Diamonds for a straight flush. If you would ever like to see that Simplex Motorcycle, jest stop on by.  It’s as pretty as the day I got it.
Bob Gurkin