I feel like I am lagging today. It is mid-day for many of you and I am just sitting down with this Friday greeting. And late as it is, according to Boots Time, it’s still Coffee O’Clock and I want to wish all of you good people a Happy Friday Feeling.
There is something about the Friday Feeling that give me a boost of joy — the same feeling that I get each morning when I look at my first cup of Joe. Why is this? I don’t know. Coffee is a beverage that packs a powerful boost — which I thoroughly appreciate . . . but I am also thinking that there is also a great deal of the Sense of Tradition that coffee brings to my day.
Tradition. What is it? Google’s “define: tradition” offers this: the transmission of customs or beliefs from generation to generation. Well, this hardly defines my relationship with my first cup of coffee in the morning. I distinctly do not recall having a cuppa with my grandpap or sharing a latte with my mother in a swanky coffee shop. Maybe the word tradition is a misuse . . . I am now thinking that it is more a sense of Ritual. Back to Google’s “define: ritual” . . . a religious or solemn ceremony consisting of a series of actions performed according to a prescribed order.
That works for me. Ritual. A ceremony consisting of a series of actions performed according to a prescribed order. Is my Coffee Ritual religious or solemn? Well that kind of depends on how much sleep I got the night before or what kind of day I am heading into. I can definitely see how making my first latte of the day could be considered religious and solemn.
I remember this old-timer that used to come on one of the pack trips. At the time, I thought he was sort of different concerning his morning coffee. He wanted to drink it privately, away from the madding crowd surrounding the campfire. He would go off on his own, yet within eye-shot of camp. He would find a rock or a log to sit on, turn his back on the other guests, and sip on his coffee. Looking back, I can now see that there was a Ritualistic endeavor that he was participating in while enjoying some relative solitude with his brew. That or he was super grumpy in the mornings and couldn’t stand the circular B.S. that the campfire tended to generate. Either way you look at it, I have to hand it to the guy as to knowing how he liked to start his day.
What about you? What is one of your favorite coffee rituals in the morning? For me, I grab my cup of Joe and head to my desk. I get myself settled, look out the window at the glorious day and I start to collect my thoughts via the keyboard. The days that allow for this luxury I call special. The days that don’t allow for this luxury I call my Friday Feeling . . . knowing that the next day is going to be wide open for my sense of Ritual of drinking coffee and writing. I know that life is all-encompassing and it’s all wonderful, but I have to confess to super-enjoying the mornings when I am able to prioritize and enjoy my Preferred Rituals. Simply put, it’s fun to be living my preferences.
Check out these cool coffee mugs below that give a shout-out to your Friday Feeling:
Camp coffee . . . camp toast! Camp toast is so much fun, I could write an ode to camp toast . . . although I don’t think I could write a more beautiful ode than OK Go’s “Last Leaf” video (below). This is such a beautiful song and their creative and fanciful and artistic use of toast is nothing short of exquisite. Please, do watch it. The melody, like a good cup of Joe, will stay with you throughout the day in a good way.
Camp toast. It’s like comfort food on the trail and so simple to make. Add some almond butter and slice some fruit on top of it all, and you have yourself a very hearty breakfast that delivers good hearty nutrition with minimal time expenditure.
When I think of Camp Toast, I think of a buckaroo named Bill. Bill was a Late Hire on our Whip-It Crew. Being on a Whip-It Crew involved going into a post-logged slash area and cutting out all of the little saplings and shrubs that were sprouting up, prior to re-planting. I am sure that there is someone out there who is going to say that there is no such thing as a Whip-It Crew . . . It doesn’t sound very woodsy-technical, I will agree — so I just want provide the caveat that this is what we called our crew for that and subsequent contracts involving the removal of adverse vegetation in a slash area.
Being on the Whip-It Crew was not what I would call Fun. It played with your mind and the day did not move quickly. The work involved tripping your way through acres of slash while being whipped about the face and body by lithesome sprouting trees. In order to get an early start to beat the heat, we had to wake up very early in order to get a cool start on the day. We would climb into the Crummy each morning to save gas and to afford the non-drivers some extra sleep. Who knew that we were way ahead of the Rideshare curve?
Much to our ever-heightening annoyance, Bill used to arrive late to the Crummy every morning. Every single morning. He’d come roaring into the Meeting Lot, a wide spot on Highway 54, in his ’72 Chevy — spraying an arc of gravel while chewing on the end of wadded up cigar. I am guessing that Bill’s overall effect was one of eccentricity and I’m sure funny as hell to anyone who didn’t have any alarm-clock association with him. But funny to us on the crew? Not so much.
I remember the morning Bill came skidding into the parking lot wearing some old WWII aviator goggles. The goggles being necessary as his windshield was blown out. When we asked him about it — how could you not? — he grumbled something or other about a Late Night and Trees that Jumped in Front of His Rig. Who knows what the real story was, but I am suspecting it had something to do with reading his fortune at the bottom of a gin bottle. You would have thought seeing some old Bull of the Woods cruising down the highway wearing these vintage goggles, his longish gray-black hair blowing back in the 55-MPH-generated breezes, would have been hilarious. Heck, he could have likely pulled over alongside the road and charged tourists good money for a ride in his plane-mobile. But to us? His chronic lateness stripped him of any comic relief. I can laugh now, but not so much at the time.
Check out cakespy.com’s blog for the recipe to make these jumbo cinnamon rolls! Link below . . .
Bill’s extra snooze time each morning cost us precious minutes at Carol’s Coffee Cup. Carol’s was famous for its fresh pie straight out of the oven and its hot cinnamon rolls the size of small dinner plates. You might think I am exaggerating, but it’s true. One of those rolls could send you into a sugar coma for the rest of the Crummy ride up the mountain to the unit. And it then took some serious suggesting to get us roused and ready to tackle the Whip-It work that lay ahead of us for the day. We would still be in that big of a stupor from all of Carol’s sugary goodness.
We loved Carol’s Coffee Cup — there was no other way to put it. We stopped there every morning before heading up the hill. Carol’s was a Dream Way to start out the morning. It made the morning tolerable, or as Bill would say: tol-uh-ble. I have mentioned the memorable pie and the cinnamon rolls and, even better yet, Carol’s version of a refill-to-go- was having one of the cheerful be-calico-aproned waitresses fill each of our Stanleys to the brim with Carol’s Signature Yuban before we loaded our sorry asses back into the Crummy.
Carol’s Signature Yuban had an extra sort of something to it that I could never quite put my finger on. One day I just up and asked one of the Aprons — what all of the regulars affectionately or otherwise called the be-aproned waitstaff — what it was about Carol’s coffee that made it taste the way it did. Pink Apron said that Carol sprinkled ground cinnamon on top of the grounds before it started to percolate. Carol figured that the cinnamon made it kind of special that way. I am guessing that it was Carol’s way of making Designer Coffee out of a sow’s ear, being that Yuban wasn’t what I would call the most premium hipster bean on the coffee house market.
I can’t really say that I was ever that fond of Carol’s coffee additive, but I had to hand it to her for pure ingenuity. And those cork-booted boys loved Carol’s coffee, cooking, and service. When they saw a piece of hot apple pie with a slice of cheddar cheese melting on the top set before them, they felt like no less than King Solomon.
Snooze Button Bill was one of those annoying patrons who thought he owned the joint. He would cluck about the downside of our cinnamon roll rush while he ordered himself his standard 2 eggs (sunny side up), 2 sausage links, and 2 slices of white toast. Every single morning.
When Bill ordered, he would state his preference as to the runniness of his sunny side uppers, the brownness of his links, and the degree of toasting that should be accorded his toast. His order wouldn’t have been so bad for the Aprons if he had simply stuck to the same script each morning. But he didn’t. It was all a Lesson of Degrees with Bill. He wanted the eggs pretty firm or kind of runny or clucking back to the cook. The sausages were pretty straight forward, but he would send back the toast if it wasn’t Pure Palamino Gold.
Suffice it to say, none of the Aprons liked taking Bill’s order. Bill would extol his Varied Reasons for the Inadequacy of the Toast when he sent it back. He would go off on some commentary, saying that there is just something about burnt toast that says someone didn’t care enough to check the setting before pushing the lever down. Or someone simply was neglectful. Or someone had gotten up on the wrong side of the bed. Silly stuff that only cemented the Aprons’ and our opinion of Bill’s backsidedness.
Of course, the cook could hear Bill’s Toast Soliloquy, and I swear she would send out at least one Burnt Trial Balloon — all designed to get Bill’s dander up — before Bill finally got the Palamino-Gold toast that he demanded.
Out on the trail was something different. Cookie would pull out the campfire toaster and, after having had to listen to two consecutive mornings of Bill’s Palamino-Gold laments, we were all left on our own when it came to toast. We were wisely allotted two pieces of bread each morning for our toasting pleasure. If we weren’t mindful and we ruined our Toast Prospects by burning it to smithereens, we were on our own. Cookie’s philosophy was pretty much Eat the Toast or return it to the ashes from which it originally came. You can’t argue with good sense like that.
I actually enjoyed the whole Mindful Process of Toasting Bread on a Campfire. You would be keeping a steady eye on your bread and it would be just about perfect for consumption and then — whoosh! — an errant draft would kick the flame into high action and your toast might get a dandy scorch. I have to admit that I liked the Uncertainty of the Endeavor. And when it came to toast, I pretty much ate any degree of toasting — burnt or otherwise — that went with the benefits of butter and jelly. And it is always true that food — as is life — is always pretty darned great when you are eating in the Fabulous Outdoors.
One morning in camp, Bill asked us to watch his toast for him. He must have thought we were Better People than we were — otherwise he wouldn’t have given up his Toast Autonomy to the likes of us. Maybe it was all of those mornings that we had to wait for Bill to show up at the Crummy. Maybe it was in honor of the patient Aprons who had been putting up with all of Bill’s Toast Nonsense. Maybe it was Juvenile Revenge — pure and simple. We waited for Bill to vacate the campfire premises, and we proceeded to incinerate Bill’s toast to the color and texture of a charcoal briquette.
The mind has a tendency to wander back to the Glimmers of Unexplained Irrelevancy, and I am guessing that this is what has happened here. Bill’s role in this post’s Ode to Toast is obtuse at best. He merely serves as the MacGuffin that brings Toast to the Campfire in this story. The real story here centers on how great Campfire Toast is when you are out in the woods . . . or when you are sitting around your own home firepit.
And I’d like to say that there is some kind of moral to share about Respect for Timeliness or Be Kind to Waitstaff, but there isn’t. All the Great Incineration gained anyone was the way that we laughed our asses off until we snorted when Bill came back and saw his Beloved Toast nothing but a wafer of carbon.
Bottom line: You can’t expect generosity from others when you are always riding their butts or acting all inconsiderate. We finished the contract but after the Carbon Toast Experience, Bill’s demanding ways grew to be more humorous than harmful. He still arrived late to the Crummy and we still complained about it, but there you go. There are times in life when you can’t change circumstances completely and this was one of them.
Simply put: There are times when you just go with the flow . . .and I am thinking that this is the Way of Toast.
Bill the MacGuffin aside, take a look these awesome camp toasters. I know that some of them might look like Rube Goldberg mouse traps, but they are so warm and fuzzy and reminiscent of times gone by. You can watch your toast brown or burn, depending on your tolerance for carbon. Get on board and get one of these for camping. They are reasonably priced and they are fun!
Heat Resistant Oven Mitts Set – Hot Gloves for Cooking BBQ Grilling – Flame Retardant Kevlar Provides 662F Protection – Bonus Ebook http://amzn.to/1PuDeYu
And what goes better with toast than a hot, steaming cup of Joe that is brewed to perfection. Imagine it. You are taking in the sunrise, the air smells so clean you could have sworn that it had been manufactured for this very moment, the birds are tweeting and twittering in the forest, and . . . wait! . . . was that a marmot you just heard whistling? Yep. You’re in the high country, your fire is crackling just right, the smoke is blowing just-so toward your blowhard Uncle Phil that is always waxing eloqent, and all is right with the world. Pour yourself another cup and get another piece of toast a’toasting. It’s the biggest goal you have to meet today. Life is pretty good, isn’t it?
And check out this functional and adorable coffee percolator. It is hearty, fun to use, stainless steel so it’s easy to clean and easy to pack!
Texsport Stainless Steel Coffee Pot Percolator for Outdoor Camping
And on a side note . . . in case you indulged a little too heartily with the brandy flask last night around the campfire . . . did you know that burnt toast will help a hangover? Yep. It will settle your tummy-brain upset just like that. Works every time! Maybe Bill should have switched his order from Palamino Gold to Burnt Black!
And you must watch this . . . I love this video! I guarantee that if you watch it once, you are going to watch it twice. So lovely of a tune and so imaginative. And that’s a heck of a lot of toast that went into the making of this very artistic video. Kudos to OK Go!
Boots here, signing off.
Wishing you happy trails of perfectly-toasted toast and a satisfying tale to go with it.
Life is a lively event. Watch your toast, drink coffee, and get to it.
What’s stopping you? xox Boots the Badass Coffee Babe
Boots the Badass Coffee Babe here to talk Percolator Coffee . . . Are you thinking that this brewing method is just too old-timey or outdated or un-hipster-esque? Does the image of a percolator bring back your mother’s or grandmother’s Wednesday morning kaffee klatch? Or a church supper? Or a rousing Saturday night of Polish polka on a waxed dance floor? Or Uncle Dean’s summer mountain cabin? Or old-timey conversating between the old folk sitting around a kitchen table?
I can’t think about percolators without hearkening back to my very early childhood and my morning-grumpy, bootlegging, Polish grandmother. It was at this tender age that I learned the life lesson that caffeine serves as an Adult Lifeline and Morning Saviour. And another thing that I learned: Don’t mess with Grandma’s coffee and no one will get hurt.
Ignorance is bliss, or so they say. What I considered to be an innocent Borrowing turned out to be an act of Brazen Temerity: I borrowed (translate: nearly lost) the glass plug that fits into the percolator lid for my playtime pleasure. I was setting up an opulent mud-pie party for my dollies and, after scavenging the kitchen cupboards and drawers for Items of Elegance, I came across the glass perking plug — which was to become the most perfect and elegant crystal teacup. I didn’t give it another thought until the next morning . . .
. . . when my caffeine deprived grandmother went on a cussing rampage while she looked for the necessary glass plug. Looking back, she probably dropped the equivalent of a few muttered F-bombs, but as for me being the Guilty Party who had absconded with such an Integral Element of her Morning Ritual? Well, I was quaking in my Buster Browns, I am telling you.
If you have never heard someone cussing enthusiastically in Polish, you will not understand how terrifying and mesmerizing this was to my innocent, yet guilty, little soul. To put it plainly, Grandma wanted her coffee and she wanted it bad. And I knew that my intrepid borrowing had led to this moment of extremely-motivating personal terror.
Grandma searched the dish drainer, the kitchen junk drawer, and garden bucket of peelings. It didn’t take long for me to realize the error in my judgment, the epiphany of which sent me on a reconnaissance mission to Recover the Crystal Grail. I found said Grail out in the sand box and, surreptitiously so, replaced it in the dish drainer that my grandmother had already checked 3 or 4 times. It was gritty and dirty and it bore all the signs of having been abused by someone who was not yet of an age that could fully appreciate the Sanctity of the Crystal Grail.
Sigh. I get it now. Mr. Shakespeare had it right: “No legacy is so rich as honesty.” My anguish could have been greatly minimized had I simply fessed up to Grandma and asked her to help me find it. I don’t know. I still feel mildly twitchy when I think back on this event. William Shakespeare wrote: “The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good an ill together.” In other words, All’s Well That Ends Well — as his play is so aptly entitled.
Mr. Shakespeare knew his stuff. Being a sensitive kid and a quick learner of Human Nature in the Morning, I was never to borrow The Crystal Grail again. All I can say is thank God for Saint Rita, the Patron Saint of Desperate Causes, for I was able to recover the Precious Plug. My grandmother received her morning dose of caffeine, and all was, once again, right with the world. Like Helen, in Mr. Shakespeare’s All’s Well That Ends Well, life sometimes does end with a nice, neat ribbon tied ’round the Event. And like Bill tries to tell us: Don’t worry. Be happy. It’s all good. You’re gonna be fine. Don’t sweat the small stuff. Things are going to turn out fine in the end. And don’t mess with an Uncaffeinated Grandma.
So, if you are like me and you like happy endings and you like to have more than one gizmo for making coffee in your kitchen, why not add one more? A percolator is fun, retro, and old school. It has all of these cool parts that fit together kind of like Tinker Toys, and you will experience the beauty of making coffee with Essential Parts of a Greater Whole.
And people who perk say that perk coffee is the best. After seeing my grandmother’s Tizzy Fit unfold, I am a believer. So why not try it? The percolator pot isn’t expensive to buy, and you will always be ready for whatever coffee emergency that may occur.
WHAT ARE THE ADVANTAGES OF USING A PERCOLATOR?
Why use a percolator . . . when you already have a French press or an automatic drip machine or a pour-over cone or an espresso machine? Here are some reasons why it might be a good idea to have a coffee percolator in your coffee arsenal:
You live in an area where you have frequent power outages.
You live off the grid.
You’ve run out of fine-grind coffee for your espresso machine and your grinder only does a coarse-grind.
You feel like doing something to honor Throwback Thursday.
Your grandparents are coming to visit and this is the only coffee they like to drink.
You like to try new things.
You are going camping and you want something that is super simple and unbreakable to bring along for your coffee brewing.
You like the look of a percolator on the campfire grate.
You feel inspired to belt out cowboy songs when you hear the percolator bubbling.
You feel a sense of magic when you see the coffee perking into the glass top plug.
You think of your grandmother and wish that you had learned how to cuss in Polish from her when you had the chance.
IS PERCOLATION A DINOSAUR BREW METHOD?
Is it a generational thing? Are percolators going the way of cursive handwriting and mental math? I don’t think so. There are many people who still use this method of brewing. And I know a few people who are pretty proud to make coffee with such a cool, retro looking pot.
HOW THE HECK DO YOU USE A PERCOLATOR?
This is a great question. And I’m not going to lie. It was TOUGH to find a decent video about percolating coffee to share with you. I came across this particular one with Quaker Anne and said Eureka! She walks you through the steps and convinces you that percolating is the way to go. I especially like the way she talks about her special coffee treat of adding pure maple syrup and cream to her coffee as she is relaxing at the end of the video. It looks like this gal knows how to savor and enjoy life’s little pleasures. Check it out. It goes for almost ten minutes, but it is kind of restful and meditative to watch.
Quaker Kitchen: Stovetop Percolator Coffee (9:56)
As Quaker Anne so wisely says: “That which is worth having is worth waiting for. I am thinking that QA is one smart cookie.
And here is a recipe/summary of QA’s How-To video:
Use excellent coffee of a coarse grind . . . Grind is Essential
Use good water . . . Good Water is Essential
Use the right proportions of water to grounds . . . Proportion is Essential: (I don’t agree with Quaker Ann . . . As a rule, I use 2 T. per 8 ozwater for brewing any coffee with any method.)
Spread coffee evenly around basket and place lid on basket put in coffee pot and put all of the Percolator Guts into the pot..
Assemble all of the pieces . . . oh, and make sure that the glass bubble is secure. You don’t want it to go percolating off the top of your pot. Messy clean-up.
Put pot on stove and turn heat up to a medium heat and wait for the coffee to start percolating. People who perk love this sound. And who wouldn’t? Coffee is on the way!
When coffee begins to perk . . . turn temp down so coffee gently perks. You don’t want a raging inferno perking into the glass bubble. Think Gentle.
Set a timer for approximately 8 minutes.
Do not over perk. Turn heat off right away.
Let the percolator sit for about one minute to let all water drain through the basket.
IMPORTANT: Pour the percolated coffee into a thermos or an insulated carafe. There will be no microwaving coffee on Boots’ watch! Keep it properly hot and you won’t have to reheat it!
And I like QA’s idea to use real maple syrup as a sweetener. Have you tried it yet? It is as special a treat as she describes.
Shopping tips:Buy a stainless steel or a granite ware percolator. Stay away from aluminum.
Have fun with this! I love trying new ways to make coffee, don’t you? Plus, it’s nice to have a dependable way to make coffee the next time a lofty windstorm pushes some giant Douglas firs down across the power lines. At least you’ll have your percolator to fortify your day with some Joe!
Life is a lively event. Percolate some coffee, pull up a chair, and get to it.
What’s stopping you?
Happy Shopping for Cups, Percolators, & Carafes below!
For starters, how about these Retro cups for your freshly-percolated coffee? I love these cups! Makes me think of all of those Kaffee Klatches that my grandma shared with her other Polish-speaking friends. I couldn’t understand a word, but I enjoyed their stories, nonetheless. Momugs Unique Retro Hit Color Ceramic Coffee Cup with Spoon and Saucer Set, 10 oz mug, Orange http://amzn.to/1Qee3iB
And for those times when the percolator glass knobs go missing! 2 pack Fitz-All Replacement Percolator Top, Small (2) http://amzn.to/1SdkNYk
And every kitchen should have at least one carafe: 304 Stainless Steel Double Walled Vacuum Insulated Carafe with Press Button Top, Quality Thermal Carafe, Water Pitcher with Lid, coffee Pots, Serving Pitchers Coffee Thermos, 2-liter,Silver http://amzn.to/1UJol6y
Panesor 2 Liter(68 Ounce) Coffee Carafe Thermal, Vacuum Insulated Stainless Steel Carafe, Hot and Cold 24 hours http://amzn.to/1YC0cV7
Boots here to extol the virtues of Dutch ovens, S’mores, Guatemalan coffee beans . . . and to warn against the vice of imbibing too much Hooch and then finding yourself way out of your league when it comes to campfire games!
What you need for this twist on a campfire classic: A good fire? Check. Dutch oven? Check. Campfire coals? Perfect. S’mores ingredients? Check. Time to make some Dutch Oven S’mores!
This is a whole different take on making S’mores. I know that 1) poking the fire with a stick is a whole lot of fun and 2) tempting the flames with a marshmallow at the end of a stick is even more fun. Will it toast up buckskin tan or will it incinerate into a lump of carbon?
This Dutch oven recipe takes the wondering out of the equation. And everyone can enjoy their S’mores at the same time once you lift the oven’s lid. Also, making the S’mores this way eliminates that marshmallow-eating Chubby Bunny contest (a campfire game for amateurs, at best) that has a tendency to heat up between competitive cousins and liquored-up uncles. [Spoken by the wrangler who has seen too many campfire scenes that cannot be unseen.]
This way, while your treats are baking away in the Dutch oven, you all can turn your attention to telling ghost stories or to playing a rousing game of Shoeking! instead and see who just might end up hiking back down the trail the next day in his stocking feet. [Note: Now this game of balancing your boot on your toes and flipping it back over your head and not into the fire actually is morefun with liquored-up uncles.]
I’ll never forget the summer I watched a whole troop of good ol’ boys — all of whom looked to be bearing the Divine Punishment — leaving camp The Morning After with most of them missing at least one shoe. All I could think was Those damned fools were playingShoeking! There was something about seeing their hangdog expressions and the dust cloud that followed their shuffling sock-footed procession that still makes me bust a gut.
This shoe-less band of travelers, clearly having partaken in a goodly portion of Hooch the night before, was in such rough shape when they doddered past the cabin that they hired me on the spot to saddle up Eagle to carry the heavier items from their camp down the hill. I sympathized. Of course I did. But there was a part of me that was thinking that there was going to be a whole lot of footsore at the end of the trail along with all of the blame and cussing that I was sure to bear witness to. One buckaroo kept saying over and over, “My Gawd, my Gawd.” Whether he was intervening for his sole-less foot or for his soul-less quaff from the night before, I couldn’t tell. The other guys kept telling him to Zip It, Chet! — knowing that maintaining low morale wasn’t going to help a single one of them get down the trail any sooner.
Chet couldn’t refrain from his mantra of misery, so the rest of the boys started to call Chet “Mr. Tenderfoot” and other such insulting monikers with additional colorful embroideries. I tried not to crack up and just kept Eagle steered down the trail ahead of the shoe-less pack, thinking that there are some stories in life that you just can’t make up. This was one of those stories.
I just don’t know. Life is funny and it is strange. And thank God for stories that entertain the Disbelieving Parts that dwell within. I can’t really say that participating in this experience enriched my life in any way, but I did file it away in my mental folder labeled “You Can’t Make This Stuff Up.” You know the stories. The Fact-is-stranger-than-Fiction stuff. The stories that cling to our memories’ heels through time for no apparent reason. I would like to think that the things I carry with me have some edifying value from time past, but this particular tale? It simply makes me laugh my ass off when I think back to that day.
Truth: laughter is its own medicine and these boys had given me a goodly dose as a result of their misguided and high-spirited Shoeking! folly.
But sorry stories aside, let’s get back to stuff that really matters like coffee, chocolate, and campfires . . . My coffee pairing recommendation for the sweet side of S’mores? I am thinking a Guatemalan coffee for this particular sweet. There is nothing like Guatemalan coffee paired with chocolate . . . although Arabian mocha beans are pretty great, too. Check out this single origin Guatemalan coffee after you have stocked up on the S’more goodies. You deserve good coffee with your campfire treat. And what a cute bag that comes with it!
1 package (14-1/2 ounces) whole graham crackers, crushed
1/2 cup butter, melted
1 can (14 ounces) sweetened condensed milk
2 cups (12 ounces) semisweet chocolate chips
1 cup butterscotch chips
2 cups miniature marshmallows
Prepare grill or campfire for low heat, using 16-18 charcoal briquettes or large wood chips.
Line a Dutch oven with heavy-duty aluminum foil. Combine cracker crumbs and butter; press onto the bottom of the pan. Pour milk over crust and sprinkle with chocolate and butterscotch chips. Top with marshmallows.
Cover Dutch oven. When briquettes or wood chips are covered with white ash, place Dutch oven directly on top of six of them. Using long-handled tongs, place remaining briquettes on pan cover.
Cook for 15 minutes or until chips are melted. To check for doneness, use the tongs to carefully lift the cover.Yield: 12 servings.
It really is worth buying a Dutch oven. You can make so many different recipes that benefit from its even heat. You can use it hanging above the fire, in the coals, and in your oven at home. I love this homely old cast iron pot that eloquently says, “Good Cooking!” You won’t be sorry that you made the investment in something that is so versatile.
Boots, signing off and keeping my bootlaces tight! xox
Boots here. Looking at the best in camp coffee cups and picking out inventory for the Cabin Door Store. I guess I have become one of those gear junkies that likes to have the best when I head out on the trail. Long gone are the days when I used to wear wool knickers for alpine skiing on my humble, waxed, wooden cross country skis. I used to be a purist. Wool gloves, wool hat, wool socks, wool sweater. I carried wooden matches, a nice piece of pitch, and a Buck knife that was razor sharp. My cook box had Granite-ware plates, bowls, and cups. Allllll natural. Now? As much as I enjoy seeing those Janoy skis hanging up in the wood shed, I now have good gear that keeps me dry, warm, and safe and gets me places in the back country.
And as for outdoor cook gear? I have gone on too many camp trips where my coffee went cold pretty much the moment that it was poured in the cup. If there is any sort of morning chill in the air, you are not going to be drinking even remotely hot coffee. Take a look at these top-of-the-line cups and mugs listed below from the Cabin Door Coffee Store and think about the hot coffee that these cups promise. They are best-sellers and of good quality. You only need one of these to keep you going for years. No chipping, no denting, and no cold coffee!
And as for my blue granite camp cup that kept me company around all of those fires? I still bring it along, but I now use it for my morning Bircher muesli. Some old favorites I’m just not ready to quite give up yet. And speaking of Bircher muesli, I am thinking that I will share my favorite recipe with you tomorrow. It is perfect for the trail, for camping, for glamping, and for home. You can make it the night before and have it ready to go in the morning if you are running late.
And then there’s my Dutch oven. It is the best. I am not going to trade it in for anything new and fandangled. At least not while I have a cook box that will accommodate the size and the weight. Dutch oven biscuits, baked with the finesse and attention that a Dutch oven asks, are the absolute best. I mean it! They are like magic in a pot. I am thinking that we will have to check a few Dutch oven recipes out later this week as well.
I digress! Get me started on camp gear and one thing leads to another! Have fun checking out these most-excellent options for keeping your coffee hot. Oh, and don’t think that you have to be sitting around a smokey campfire to enjoy these fantastic options. I can think of a time or two in recent history when I was running for a city bus in Seattle and my fancy die-hard camp cup was the perfect commuter cup as well. Nothing says coffee like a great cup! And in these colors? Lime, plum, teal, burgundy, red, orange, stainless . . . these colors put the fun in functional out on the trail and on the city bus.
Click on the links or the images below and peruse these cups that are some of the best in camp gear. It really is the littlest things that make for the best experiences. Enjoy this fun stuff!
Hey y’all. Boots here. And as we are going into hiking, camping, and glamping season, I am thinking about ways to keep your coffee hot and your coffee cold. In other words, we are going to be talking about thermal mugs, insulated containers, and the good ol’ homely, tried-and-true coffee thermos in the next few posts.
I can’t even think of the word thermos without thinking about this one couple who used to go out with us on the annual pack trip into the high country each August. Bill and Doreen Banks were regulars, and they were always toting the same damned banged-up green thermos each year.
Now this thermos had to be one of the most trail-worn thermoses I have even seen. It was one of those tall green Stanley models that looked like it had been handed down through the ages since the dawn of Manifest Destiny. You couldn’t help but think of all the lunch hours and picnics that this thermos must have poured its way through to get that mean looking. It was scarred up, dented, and ugly, and it truly was a testimony to the quality of the Stanley company’s product line. It was still keeping the Banks’ family coffee hot through all of the abuse it had been subjected to.
This couple, Bill and Doreen, would prepare their coffee together each morning before we saddled up and headed out for the day. They liked to have a little coffee break with their lunch, and experience had taught them that we didn’t build a fire for just a quick lunch along the trail. Hence, the necessity for the beloved Stanley.
One of them would pull the coffee boiler from the fire while the other readied the Sacred Stanley to receive its daily sacrament of Joe. Usually Bill poured and Doreen steadied. Doreen would cluck about the importance of being careful while Bill filled the Stanley to the very brim.
The funny thing was that these two were so proud of their Stanley. Like it was a badge of honor that they were still toting the same crappy-looking thermos that Bill’s dad had used when he was alive and working for Boeing.
Maybe it was a lesson in equating age-worn with beautiful. Maybe the Stanley was a testimony to their marriage and a symbol of the trust that they shared. Or maybe it was a lesson in forgiveness the way that Doreen didn’t cuss Bill out when he splashed her hands with hot coffee as she steadied the Stanley. Or maybe they were just super cheap people and weren’t about to replace function with shiny new.
I don’t know. It was way out of my ken. Other campers would comment on the Stanley’s condition, and Bill would launch into the story about how his dad, Bill the Second, carried it with him to work each day for 20 odd years — all while Doreen would talk over Bill’s tale, adding minor and odd details as to how old Bill’s dad was when he was forced to retire or how many years ago it had been when the two of them had laid claim to the Stanley after Bill Senior’s funeral.
The year came when Bill and Doreen arrived in camp, still with their beloved Stanley. The first morning in camp, I couldn’t help but notice that the thermos was missing its lid. A small part of me wanted to laugh — thinking that there must have been some lulu of a story to explain the carelessness or forgetfulness that led to the decapitated Stanley. I assumed that we would hear, in full Technicolor, the chain of events that would explain why their Stanley was missing its salutatory cap.
I imagined that Bill had left the cup on the hood of the car after a roadside coffee break, or Doreen had forgotten it on some boulder alongside a creek while picnicking. It wasn’t until the next morning, when I overheard Doreen fussing over Bill and insisting that he let her pour the coffee, that I knew something wasn’t quite right. Bill’s hands shook as he tried to steady the thermos for Doreen’s inexpert pouring.
I came to find out later that night over campfire coffee nudges that the Missing Stanley Cup incident was a result of Bill having been hospitalized for several weeks in the months prior. Doreen dutifully brought him his daily coffee in the trusty Stanley during his stay, and it was believed that one of the nurses on shift had thrown the cup/lid out, mistaking it for garbage. The outcome of Bill’s hospitalization was still uncertain and they weren’t sure what would allow for Bill in the coming year, but they were grateful that they were able to make one more trip together into the high country before things had the opportunity to go south.
Well, you could have knocked me over with a flicker feather the next year when Doreen showed up. Alone. What surprised me wasn’t that Doreen was toting that damned Stanley . . . it was that it had taken on another function as Urn. Doreen was carrying Bill’s ashes in it and was wanting to bury Bill up in the meadow at Emerald Camp.
We made camp late that afternoon at Emerald Camp and, after dinner, Doreen asked me if I would grab a camp shovel and walk with her. She stopped at a spot that Bill used to called Turtle Pie Rock. I never knew why he called it that, but Doreen was clear that that was the spot for Bill. What surprised me was that Doreen wasn’t planning to scatter Bill’s ashes; the Stanley was going to be buried in the hole right along with Bill.
I dug for a spell until Doreen told me to stop. She laid Bill and the Stanley to rest, and I can’t tell you how enormous that moment felt. I have been to funerals before, and have shed my share of tears. But this. Seeing someone being laid to rest in one of his favorite spots on the planet in a damned thermos gave me pause. I could see how our physical selves all truly return to the ash from whence we came. The Cycle of Life is enormously dizzying and, if we are lucky, we have someone special in our life who we can hold on to to ease the spin.
We paused before I was instructed to fill the hole. We looked at each other briefly, and I had tears in my eyes. Doreen looked away and started to laugh. A sad laugh filled with stories, tears, fears, and thanks. Maybe a few regrets. Regrets that Bill wasn’t there to appreciate the irony about being buried in their Stanley thermos in the middle of the wilderness. A laugh that spoke of years that had been marked by the zeniths that spiked their days with their unexpected nature of the good, the bad, and the ugly. And the breathtakingly simple and beautiful.
When we returned to the campfire, I laid a blanket around Doreen’s shoulders. I poured her a Coffee Nudge and sat with her for a while. No one else knew that she had just laid her best friend and husband to rest. It surely does occur to me that hidden sorrow has to be one of the most difficult things that we carry with us in life.
And it just goes to show. Maybe thermoses, like some marriages, are age-worn on the outside while they still keep the brew nice and hot on the inside. I really had to hand it to those two. And to Doreen in her commitment to lay Bill to rest in such a beautiful way. In spite of Doreen’s shaky year of loss and grief, she was still out doing what she and Bill loved to do, and she arrived toting that same damned Stanley one last time to prove that some things just don’t change. Won’t change.
Call this some kind of tribute to Bill and Doreen . . . or to Stanley products . . . or to marriage . . . or to fulfilling final wishes . . . or to high standards to quality . . . or to . . . I’m not really sure. Sometimes things just are.
Regardless, I think that this thermos has to be the best one on the market! Just call this Cabin Door Store post “Ode to Stanley and Bill.”
Boots here. I’m back to finish up this series on Toddy Coffee. This post is all about drinking . . . drinking Toddy as both a hot and a cold beverage. After a sip of Toddy, you are going to want to stand up and salute the day with vim and vigor!
You now have your concentrate all good to go. [Note: Be sure to keep your Toddy concentrate refrigerated.] It is recommended that you start with a ratio of 1 part coffee concentrate to 2-3 parts water, milk or whatever non-cow liquid you prefer. I know that soy is a common moo-juice alternative, but heck, why not step into a new paradigm and try cashew, coconut, almond, rice, or hemp milk? Whatever your moo-free preference, experiment and find the one you enjoy best. Doesn’t a caramel sauce & cashew-milk iced mocha sound?
Mix your Toddy beverage to taste, making your coffee as strong or as weak as you prefer. This is going to be a Goldilocks thing. Try it. Taste it. Adjust it. Find your Just Right.
ICED COFFEE: For iced coffee, Toddy is truly the best. Simply pour the Toddy concentrate and water, milk, or moo-free alternative over ice. No need to double-proportion your coffee grounds for a hot-brew method to get a good iced coffee.
HOT COFFEE: Combine your Toddy concentrate with steaming hot water for a bolder, gentler cup of hot coffee — kind of like an Americano — but not really. Once you tasted the carmel-ly smooth flavor of Toddy, you will know what I mean.
You really want to experiment with all of the fun ideas. Here are a few more:
Add Toddy to your morning smoothie. Toddy would be great with a chocolate-banana smoothie. Yummy!
Be creative with whatever it is that sounds good to you. Coconut milk? Protein powder? An almond butter-mocha-coffee frappe?
Freeze your Toddy in ice-cube trays, and add cubes to your iced beverages and smoothies for that extra-cold punch. This will keep your drink colder longer and not diluted by water-ice cubes.
Toddy is versatile and so convenient. There is never a need to feel strapped for time in the morning as you are dashing out the door. If you are a fan of the Snooze Alarm, you can even get your drink ready the night before in a pint jar, put it in the fridge, do your crazed morning dash to work, and heat up your coffee right in the pint jar in the office microwave. Voila! Fabulous coffee with no morning hassle.
And don’t hesitate to add a little Nudge (aka Hooch to my bootleggin’ granny) to make a hot-coffee cocktail — as long as you are not going to be shoeing a horse or operating any heavy equipment. Irish whiskey is a traditional Nudge additive, but you can try adding vanilla vodka for something a little different. I am thinking campfire and some yarn spinning right about now!
And speaking of campfires, doesn’t this look like a fun addition to your summer evenings out on the patio or deck? Grab the S’more fixings, pour yourself a coffee nudge using your Toddy concentrate and indulge in the fact that you are in the great outdoors and only just a pebble’s throw from your own door.
What a hoot this stand-alone fire pit would be on your patio! It would really open up your summer to the great outdoors. Just click on the image or link below.
I hope that this little foray into the world of Toddy has been fun for you! I remember back to when I first tasted it with that fussbudget sister of mine and, at the time, I had to admit to her that it tasted really good. I generally forego Toddy during the winter months, as I like a fresh, hot brew. But the summer? It is so perfect!
And hail all of you hikers, campers, and glampers! Think about how great Toddy would be out on the trail. Put it in a coffee-tight container and you would be good to go for your entire trek.
And you can click here for a comprehensive PDF from the Toddy experts. There are all sorts of cool recipes in here for lattes, mochas, iced coffee beverages, smoothies, and even ice cream!
And check out this Kindle option for learning more about Toddy:
Greetings, Good Woodsy Folk. Before we begin to explore a new and flavorful Outdoor Brewing Method later this week (I’ll give you a hint: it rhymes with body), check out this incredibly clever, high-tech, ultra-convenient way to brew Joe on the go.
Normally, I prefer the simple route when it comes to gear out on the trail — the take-your-time, ain’t-life-great, tried-and-true brewing methods — but I can think of more than a few times when I was hiking through remote places at the height of fire season, and I would have appreciated the convenience of this battery-powered, self-brewing gizmo!
Yes, sometimes practical convenience and deprivation-driven misery wins out over backwoods aesthetics. And perhaps this gizmo doesn’t deliver the same robust quality of coffee as a cup of campfire Joe, but I am thinking it would be a great back-up option in desperate times.
Like the time I dutifully agreed to go whitewater rafting with a group of people who were bizarrely extreme . . . not extreme in the ways of defying the mighty rapids but in the demands regarding what time we wake up each morning. According to the dictatorial mandates of Fearless Rafting Leader, the day was already wasted if the group got a start on the river any later than 6:30 am. It was a rough trip for me, one that was defined by sleep deprivation and negative-vibrational fallout from all of the other bitchy, caffeine-deprived rafters.
I am telling you . . I would have loved — and I mean loved! — to have had this ingenious cup for that trip. I could have been blithely floating through the canyon with my delightful cup of coffee — just a push of the button — all the while thumbing my nose gaily and happily at Fearless Leader who actually enjoyed the drama of watching the unwashed and the un-caffeinated fight for their turn with the camp stove each morning.
Life-scarring rafting memories aside, this GoJoe would be ideal for when you are out in extreme conditions: climbing, skiing, boating, river rafting, fire-lookouting, and hiking out in the wilderness where water is scarce, a fire isn’t an option, fuel is scarce, and time is being dictated by a Fearless Leader. Nothing like kickstarting your morning and wilderness experience by simply pushing a button for a cup of Joe!
Check it out! Watch the video and tell me what you think!
Happy Trails, Good People!
Boots the Badass Coffee Babe
Click on the Hey Joe Coffee GoJoe 2.0 image below:
About the Product
Fill with water at any time. When your ready, press the button for fresh brewed coffee anywhere
With updated, more powerful, battery to last longer and brew hotter!
Turn heads everywhere you go with the cool design and smell of fresh coffee
Howdy! Do you have a recipe/method for good cowgirl coffee? I made cowgirl coffee when cooking with an old gal named Roma many years ago. She always used an egg to settle the grounds. Any comments?
Thank you for your question, Dharma. This is just one of those synchronistic things! I was writing an article on Cowboy Coffee and discussing the notion of adding egghells to the pot . . . and then your question arrived. You can click on the post: On the Trail: How to Make the Best Cowboy Coffee and get your very answer! According to the old-timers like Roma and to the scientists, it has something to do with opinion and with alkalinity and acidity. Check it out. It’s interesting stuff!
Roma sounds like she was a good egg! And it sounds like, with a name like Roma, there are even more stories that go along with coffee and eggshells! Thank you for your great question, Dharma. We appreciate you gracing the cabin with your presence today!
Cowboy Coffee. This post is all about Cowboy Coffee, dutch ovens, and grub box gear. Click on the images and you will find some great pots and paraphernalia for your next camping adventure. Have fun daydreaming about the campfire as you peruse the pots and gear. So many fun things to consider adding to your grub box! Life is good!