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Some great Holiday Hams are now hitting the market. Chef Slim Oakheart has the perfect sauce for us. A delectable treasure from Snake River Farms. As soon as Thanksgiving gave way to Black Friday, my inbox filled up with great offers for Fancy Holiday Hams. (See THE YEAR OF THE PIG for info on various pork breeds and links to our favorite online suppliers.) How timely, then, to have Chef Slim Oakheart check in with this fabulous recipe– Cranberry Mustard with Raspberry Vinegar Mustard seeds standing, Cranberries in silence rest, Flavors unfold slow... Perfect for a holiday party served with spiral sliced ham and sliced baguette. Ingredients: 1 cup fresh cranberries 1/2 cup sugar 2 large eggs 1/4 cup dry mustard 1/4 cup mustard seeds 1/2 cup raspberry vinegar 2 tablespoons lemon juice 2 tablespoons honey 1/2 teaspoon salt 1/4 teaspoon black pepper Step 1: Mix Dry Mustard and Mustard Seeds: In a medium bowl, combine 1/4 cup dry mustard and 1/4 cup mustard seeds. Whisk in Raspberry Vinegar: Gradually whisk in 1/2 cup raspberry vinegar until well combined. Cover and Let Stand Overnight: Cover the bowl and let the mustard mixture stand overnight at room temperature. This allows the flavors to meld and develop. Step 2: Blend Cranberries: In a food processor, finely chop 1 cup of fresh cranberries. Whisk Sugar and Eggs: In a medium-sized metal bowl, whisk together 1/2 cup sugar and 2 large eggs until well blended. Incorporate Mustard Mixture and Other Ingredients: Whisk in the mustard mixture (from Step 1), chopped cranberries, lemon juice, honey, salt, and black pepper until the mixture is well combined. Cook Over Simmering Water: Place the bowl over a saucepan of simmering water to create a double boiler. Cook the mixture until it thickens, and a thermometer registers 180°F. Remember to scrape down the sides of the bowl and whisk occasionally for even cooking. Cool to Room Temperature: Once thickened, remove the bowl from heat and let the cranberry-mustard mixture cool to room temperature. Chill Overnight: Cover the bowl and refrigerate the cranberry-mustard mixture for at least 1 day. It can be made up to 3 days ahead. Bring to Room Temperature Before Serving: Before serving, bring the cranberry mustard to room temperature to enhance its flavors. Serve and Enjoy: Your cranberry mustard with raspberry vinegar is ready to be enjoyed as a flavorful condiment! Feel free to adjust the sweetness, salt, or other seasonings to match your taste preferences. Enjoy! * * * * * * * "Chef Slim Oakheart" is the nom de plume of a noteworthy public official who serves the citizenry from multiple levels of government. He is also a bon vivant extraordinaire with an unmatched passion for fabulous cookery. We are delighted to have him here!

Now that I've got my new ride, I'm giving my daughter the old Toyota pickup. She lives 2670 miles from me. A 9-car open hauler... a "parking lot" in trucker slang. Last year I posted CAR SHOPPING WITH DANNYM., a compendium of lessons I've learned while buying and selling my cars over the decades. And I recently chronicled the latest installment of my car-shopping adventures, an intensive multi-state search that involved planes, trains, my economics degree, and a hotel stay. (See "The Art of the Pickup," Parts One and Two.) This effort eventually put me behind the wheel of this rare and wonderful 2023 4x2, 2-Door Ram 1500 Classic Tradesman, a.k.a. "Bianca"... Hand-crank windows, push-button locks, and the biggest freaking doors in the auto industry... almost as if they knew that the Grumpy Old Mansplainer was headed their way. My quest for this rare example of automotive excellence also freed up my 2020 Toyota Tacoma for an early Ph.D. graduation gift to my daughter, and thus began an unexpectedly bumpy adventure. * * * * * * * Driving the Toyota to from Rochester to Seattle would entail (for either my daughter OR me) 130 gallons of fuel, highway tolls, motel rooms, a return flight, and a week of either missed school or missed work. We quickly dismissed that idea and started looking for a professional automobile transporter. We soon learned that auto transport is a 3-tiered business: at the top we have the Big Company, which one might consider a "meta-broker." The actual Driver is at the bottom, and in between sits the Broker/Dispatcher, who connects the other two. (Spoiler Alert: they ALL take your money.) The Big Company does the advertising, they appear in your google searches for "car transporters," and, once selected, they put your request out for bidding among the invisible thousands of Broker/Dispatchers who cannot afford to effectively advertise their services by themselves. The Big Company takes your deposit, leaving you to deal with the Broker/Dispatcher you select... which would normally be the lowest bidder. The Broker/Dispatcher then puts the job out to the independently operating drivers in their network, finds one who will be in your area at the right time, and then agrees to pay him an unspecified percentage of the amount they are charging you. Our first two attempts yielded a mishmash of shady characters with unintelligible accents, drivers with burner phones, and a U.K.-based Big Company that had the audacity to tell me, after everything fell through, that my deposit was redeemable ONLY as a credit toward my next car-moving adventure and would expire in two years. This is why, Dear Reader, I ALWAYS recommend doing all of one's online business via American Express... no other company steadfastly stands behind us consumers and protects our interests like they do. (Yes, I got my deposit back.) One needs nothing but a regular driver's license to drive this thing for money. That's why there are a lot of trucker wannabes out there in F-350's hauling cars around. The third time was the charm, sort of... the driver showed up to collect the Toyota as scheduled. He was a real truck driver with a 9-car open hauler like the one shown at the top... not a trucker wannabe with a camper-friendly F-350 and a flimsy-looking 3-car carrier (as shown directly above) that might well turn into a very expensive kite in the stiff western crosswinds: It gets a tad breezy in places on the way to Seattle. We were doing just fine for a few days. I spoke to the driver when he was in Montana, where it was snowing but still driveable. I spoke with him again on Thanksgiving evening, when he reported that he was delighted to have enjoyed an unexpected dinner with his wife in Spokane. Then I called him on Saturday, wondering why he hadn't delivered on Friday, as promised. His sudden case of amnesia, coupled with the fact that he was fishing on the Snake River several hours north up in Idaho, got my brain and bloodstream working overtime. He stopped taking calls from both me and my daughter, leaving us wondering whether we should report the Toyota as stolen, and to whom. We sweated it out until Wednesday, when the Toyota finally materialized in Seattle. Mission accomplished, finally, but I have a list of pointers for anyone considering moving a car. CHOOSE YOUR BIG COMPANY / "META-BROKER" CAREFULLY. They should act and sound like a real company and do nothing that brings their trustworthiness into question. They should be US-based, answer their phones PROMPTLY AND professionally, and be knowledgeable and transparent about their services. Make sure you understand their refund policy, and make your online payment with Amex. If all of this seems self-evident, just wait until you actually talk to a few. (Pro-Tip: They don't really call themselves "meta-brokers," even though that describes them perfectly.) YOU SAVE MONEY BY BEING FLEXIBLE. Professional car movers necessarily move multiple cars on every trip and try to coordinate multiple deliveries for cost-effectiveness. The more flexible you are on the desired pickup and delivery dates, the cheaper their price. INQUIRE ABOUT INSURANCE AND LIABILITY. Ask the "meta-broker," the broker, and the actual driver about their insurance coverage and policies. Ask your own insurance company what exactly they cover and don't cover when moving a car. YOU WILL BE INUNDATED WITH BIDS AND OFFERS. The brokers– the guys between the "meta-brokers" and the actual drivers– will be doing the bidding, and the bids will come furiously at first. After a few bids you'll develop a sense of roughly what the move will cost; check your email every hour at the beginning of the process and delete the bids that are way too expensive. This will make your inbox more manageable. GET TO KNOW THE DRIVER. Before the driver arrives you should already know a little bit about him from telephone conversations... like whether he has a real phone that takes incoming calls. (HERE is some info on spotting burner phones.) When your driver arrives, take pictures of him, his driver's license, and the plate & DOT # on his rig. Politely let him know that you are trusting him with expensive property and that you therefore wish to know where it is from time to time. "ARE WE THERE YET?" That being said, don't nag the driver... he has a tough job and isn't getting a huge chunk of what your paying, so cut him a little slack. If he stops taking your calls, inform the broker. * * * * * * * It took 10 days rather than 5, as promised, but my Toyota pickup has made it safely to Seattle. My daughter now has the vehicle she has long coveted, and she might well now be The Happiest Girl in the Whole USA. I'm happy for her. And finally... Expensive cars require expensive treatment. When shipping, say, your $4 million vintage Ford GT-40 from Sotheby's Auction House, you would rightly opt for an "inside carrier" rather than an open carrier to protect it from the elements, the curious eyes of thieves, and the sharp keys of the jealous. The Ferrari-killing Ford GT-40 in its signature blue & orange livery.

Not his real name, but a public servant who cooks like a real pro. The man who calls himself Slim Oakheart recently caught my notice on social media with his fantastic food posts. Not only did everything he made look really delicious, he also described it all so beautifully, almost poetically. Some of the recipes appear to be originally his, insofar as culinary inventions can rightly be attributed to individuals; others he freely acknowledges as test versions from clearly cited sources. Chef Oakheart seems to love cooking and writing about it as much as I do... so rather than stew in my own envy, I requested his permission to re-post his reports here at Danny's Table. Here is Chef Oakheart's recent suggestion for BACON BLISS TURKEY LOAF made from Thanksgiving leftovers: Turn your leftover turkey into a flavor-packed masterpiece! Bacon Bliss Turkey Loaf is a simple and satisfying recipe that combines shredded turkey with savory herbs, a hint of Parmesan, and a mouthwatering bacon topping. No need for fancy equipment—just mix, shape, glaze, and bake! Perfect for a quick and delicious family dinner, making those leftovers the star-of-the-show. It's comfort food with a crispy bacon twist! I take the turkey on a journey through the food processor to get the right texture and then proceed to the stand mixer. Ingredients: 3 cups shredded leftover turkey 1 cup breadcrumbs 1/2 cup milk 1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese 1/4 cup finely chopped onion 2 cloves garlic, minced 1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley 1 teaspoon dried oregano 1 teaspoon dried thyme 1 teaspoon dried sage 1/2 teaspoon salt 1/4 teaspoon black pepper 2 large eggs, beaten For the glaze: 1/4 cup ketchup 2 tablespoons brown sugar 1 tablespoon Dijon mustard Topping: 6-8 slices of bacon Instructions: Preheat your oven to 350°F (175°C). In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, combine the shredded leftover turkey, breadcrumbs, milk, Parmesan cheese, onion, garlic, parsley, oregano, thyme, sage, salt, pepper, and beaten eggs. Mix on low speed until the ingredients are well combined. Be careful not to over-mix. Shape the mixture into a loaf and place it in a greased baking dish or on a baking sheet. In a small bowl, mix the ketchup, brown sugar, and Dijon mustard to create the glaze. Spread the glaze over the top of the turkey loaf. Lay the bacon slices on top of the glaze, covering the entire surface of the turkey loaf. Bake in the preheated oven for about 45-50 minutes or until the internal temperature reaches 165°F (74°C). Allow the turkey loaf to rest for a few minutes before slicing. Serve slices of the turkey loaf with your favorite sides. * * * * * * * NOTES: I look forward to sharing more gems from Slim Oakheart. Public Servants understandably need to protect their anonymity, so please refrain from posting his name if you think you know his true identity.

Just in time for Christmas Season! A stolen photo from Snake River's website. I like it just a little less rare. Those of you who've been following for a while know that the quest for the perfect Prime Rib has been a priority of mine. I recently reached a plateau of excellence in this endeavor that I consider worth sharing. FOR STARTERS, BUY THE BEST... One of my favorite online meat purveyors– Snake River Farms – recently introduced a new line of products. They've long graded their Wagyu beef as either Black (significantly richer than prime-grade) or Gold (WAY richer than prime.) They now offer Wagyu "Silver," which is equivalent to prime grade and notably less expensive than Black and Gold. That means we can now get Wagyu flavor at a lower (but still hefty) price with an arguably more roast-friendly fat content... Win-Win! From Snake River's website... "BMS" is the Japanese "more is more" system of beef grading according to fat content. For the fat content of steaks, more is generally considered superior; but with a Prime Rib Roast, I have found that fat content above a certain level simply converts to more liquid fat in one's roasting pan. And so Snake River's "Silver" Prime Rib hits a nice sweet spot at the intersection of optimal flavor and texture at a more affordable price. But make no mistake... this roast is still quite expensive, at least as compared to the offerings at Walmart and Costco. HERE is a Snake River Silver Boneless 5-pounder for $250.... and if you just coughed up your coffee, consider the following: by purchasing a boneless roast, you avoid paying top dollar for bones; with the rich fat content, you would prudently serve more elegant (i.e. smaller) portions, meaning that this 5-pound roast would easily satisfy the appetites of six adults; and finally, this roast is surely about 100 times better than even a nice restaurant version for nearly the same price per person. ...THEN COOK IT PROPERLY. Google "Prime Rib Recipes," and you'll likely find quite a variety of temperatures, cooking times, and techniques. Spoiler Alert: They ALL Work. But from my experience, I chose the following method: Thaw the roast. (If you ordered from Snake River Farms or any other online purveyor, it will have arrived frozen solid.) I thawed mine overnight in a large pot of cold water, and my faith in the imperviousness of the plastic packaging to water was duly validated. Pat the roast dry with paper towels, then sprinkle (noticeably but not heavily) with kosher salt. Place it on a rack over a pan, high enough so that air can circulate all around it. Set up a small fan to blow on it, and occasionally re-position the fan to various angles in order to form a uniform crust. The blowing air will accelerate the essential crust-forming process that many recipes accomplish with a 24-hour stay in your fridge. Few refrigerators have that much extra space, and 6 hours of the fan treatment means that you won't need the "allow to warm to room temperature" step found in most recipes. Pre-heat oven to 475ºF. During the Fan Phase, cook a half-dozen or so onions until nicely browned. (See Cry, Baby, Cry for some Grumpy Old Mansplaining about onions.) Add chopped carrots, celery, and garlic to the nearly-cooked onions and stir until all the carrots are bright and fragrant. Place the veggie mixture in the bottom of a small roasting pan (like THIS one) along with a half-bottle of red wine (tips HERE) and an equal amount quality commercial beef stock. Put the roast on the rack, the rack in the pan, and the pan in the hot oven. 20 minutes (max.) at this high temp will get the crust started while the veggie-wine-stock mixture will catch the drippings to help make a fabulous sauce. Remove the whole set-up from the oven and drop the temperature to 200ºF. (An open oven door will of course minimize the transition time.) For the low-temp. phase, insert into the thickest part of the roast a proper monitoring thermometer (like THIS one.) As the liquid in the roasting pan diminishes, replenish periodically wit stock, wine, and/or water. Allow the internal temperature of the roast to reach 115ºF for rare (like the photo above) or 120ºF for medium-rare. Your results may vary slightly depending on the dimensions of your individual roast, so keep in mind that under-cooked is a lot easier to fix than over-cooked. Here you can remove the roast and crank the oven back up to 475ºF and then give the roast a final crust-enhancing blast (10 minutes max.) Allow the roast to rest on a cutting board while you strain the liquid from the roasting pan. Use a Fat Separator to isolate the natural nectar that results from roasting. If you took my advice of several months ago and made a whole season's worth of Faux Jus, this is where you put it to its best and highest use. I combined a few spoonfuls of faux jus with the de-fatted pan juices, touched up the flavor with dashes of liquid aminos and Worcestershire sauce, and then lightly thickened it with potato flour roux. The result, served with Heavenly Mashed Potatoes, was fantastically, ridiculously delicious. And yet... I figured out something important: this meat was so delicious the next day that I might consider making it a day ahead the next time we have this. (Gently reheating slices in clarified butter did the trick beautifully.) Please let us know how your Prime Rib turns out, and feel free to reach out with any questions. * * * * * * * NOTES: Snake River Farms frequently offers discounts and special pricing. I never pay full price for anything; you shouldn't either. Pro-Tip: go to the website and put a roast in your cart. You just might receive a "Still thinking about it?" email offering you a discount. Wine, you ask? While charcoal-grilled manly-man steaks cry out for big, powerful reds with high alcohol and rip-roaring, full-frontal fruit, rib roasts pair nicely with somewhat tamer tipples. Old-World wines (from France, Spain, Italy, & Portugal) work just fine. I like a nice Californian Pinot Noir, but really any red wine you like is okay. Don't overthink it.

It's that time of year again. Let's do this. Basting might seem like a useful thing, but its effect is only skin-deep. We covered a lot of ground last year in a 3-part series on Thanksgiving. (See Part I, Part II, and Part III.) I have just a few notes to add for this year... most of which are related to the fact that The Turkey As We Know It Is A Culinary Abomination. Wild turkeys are avidly pursued by hunters, and yet they aren't particularly prized for their edible flesh. I'm reliably told that most successful turkey hunters return home with only the breast meat and perhaps some feathers and claws for the trophy shelf. Meanwhile, the domestic turkey cultivated from the wild version is a flightless and comparatively flavorless freak that seems purpose-built to dry out when roasted. This tendency is commonly mitigated (in cheaper birds, anyway) by the injection of a salt, sugar, & chemical solution. (Always, ALWAYS read the labels on anything you eat.) But you can usually find supermarket turkeys at various stages of naturalness, e.g., with labels indicating "no added solution," "antibiotic- and hormone-free," "organic," "heritage breed," and even "raised on a vegetarian diet." (As designed by God and/or nature, turkeys are omnivorous.) Unfortunately, the more "natural" the turkey, the greater its tendency to toughness and dryness. Some people have come to simply not bother with the bird and opt instead for ham or even prime rib, both of which seemingly cook themselves to perfection with little effort from the family chef. But if you MUST have a bird this November 23rd, here are some pro-tips: BUY TWO SMALL TURKEYS INSTEAD OF ONE HUMONGOUS TURKEY. Moms out there, what would you consider preferable-- giving birth to two 6-lb. twins, or to one strapping 12-lb. baby? The same reasoning applies here... it is WAY easier to maneuver the two smaller birds in and out of your oven. BRINE YOUR BIRD(S). Brining is an easy process that makes the bird more flavorful and moist... which is why those cheap turkeys are pre-injected with the aforementioned salt/sugar/chemical solution. But by purchasing an un-injected bird and brining it yourself, you assert control of two key variables: the length of brining time (24 hours is good) and the composition of the brine itself. I'm not bothering to list a specific recipe here because hundreds of them will appear in your google search; they will all contain salt, some will contain one form or another of sugar, and still others will include herbs and other seasonings. I recommend perusing a few and then picking one that strikes your fancy. CONSIDER COOKING THE TURKEY IN PIECES. White meat and dark meat cook differently... so why not cook them differently? Much of Thanksgiving cookery revolves around the contradictory challenge of thoroughly cooking the thighs without turning the breast meat dry and stringy. It is perfectly okay to quarter your bird and then cook each part to individual perfection. In a related story... CONSIDER POACHING THE BREAST. It is downright difficult to dry out a turkey breast if you gently simmer it in a flavorful stock as the thighs roast. Just make sure to keep the temperature safely below boiling, which will toughen it. If you can poach an egg, you can poach a turkey breast. (It is best to poach it on the bone.) START A POT OF TURKEY STOCK RIGHT AFTER DINNER. This integrates nicely into the cleanup process-- Fill your biggest stockpot halfway to the top with water (along with the breast-poaching stock, if applicable.) Glove up and pull all the remaining turkey meat from the bones and pack it in zip-lock bags. By simmering the bones and scraps for an hour or more, you wind up with a healthy bone broth that makes a killer soup. You can also cook it WAY down, freeze it, and use it for future sauces and braises. * * * * * * * And then there's the touchy topic of Thanksgiving wine. While Pinot Noir from California and Oregon remain perhaps the single greatest choice to pair with the bird, decent versions thereof aren't getting any cheaper... quite the opposite, actually. But wanna know what IS getting cheaper? Australian Shiraz! That's because Australia and China are presently engaged in a little trade spat that is causing an unexpected glut of wines from Down Under, and great values abound at every price point. Aussie Shiraz is noteworthy for its crowd-pleasing, rip-roaring fruitiness that can stand up to the tartest cranberry sauce like no other wine. Those clever kangaroo-keepers even make a sparkling version of Shiraz that is worth a special search. Whatever you drink, however you cook your bird, Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Once I realized that a new Toyota Tacoma was off the table, I started giving Dodge a good hard look. A 1950 Dodge Power Wagon, staring back. It was a painful process, but once I realized that Toyota was no longer a viable option, I suddenly felt oddly free to explore the rest of the current pickup market. Now, I'm kind of hard to shop for, because 1.) I'm very picky about everything from wine glasses to chainsaws; 2.) although I wouldn't say I have expensive tastes, I definitely recognize and appreciate quality; and 3.) the things that I like almost always turn out to "unicorns," i.e., limited-production, special edition, and/or discontinued. As a trucker with a perfect perch for viewing thousands of vehicles every day, I engage in lots of theoretical car-shopping. While doing so, I've developed some strong observations: the physical size of those wonderful 4-cylinder mini-pickups of yore has been steadily growing like well-nourished schoolkids every model year; and the full-sized Chevys and their GMC close cousins are always the most attractive, most perfectly-proportioned versions of the full-size trucks. My privileged perspective allowed me to also ponder thousands of Fords (the vintage F-150's are gorgeous!) and various formulations of the Ram. In my down time I did lots of homework, and I eventually settled upon the parameters for my next ride: I WANT A TRUCK THAT LOOKS LIKE A TRUCK. In other words, TWO doors, not four. Hard to say why, but I just can't stand the look of 4-door trucks, like it just ain't natural. I don't even want the flimsy-looking half-doors in the back that provide access to a midget-sized back seat. I'll happily sacrifice the second pair of doors for more cargo space, as in... WE'RE GONNA NEED A BIGGER BED. Pickup truck beds have been shrinking to the point of uselessness. I want a truck bed that will accommodate a 4' x 8' sheet of plywood. Let me know next time you see one that big. FOUR-WHEEL DRIVE IS FOR RICH COWARDS. I plan on driving on paved roads, not through cornfields and forests. And if I actually need 4WD for my weekly 200-mile Thruway commute to start my workweek, then it is unlikely that said Thruway will even be open to 34-wheeled truck traffic. I feel no need, therefore, for the psychological security blanket afforded by the additional traction. (And, BTW, 4WD is also way more expensive... like $11,000 more.) V-8 IS FOR GAZPACHO. I don't plan on racing my new truck or hauling things heavier than the truck itself, so I don't need a huge-ass V-8 engine. The modern V-6 has plenty of power, and a V-8, for me anyway, would be wasteful overkill. (HERE is my basic Gazpacho recipe, lovingly made with V-8 juice.) With these parameters in mind, I scoured all the available ratings and reviews. I thoroughly educated myself about all the current models. I produced "build-your-own" vehicles on the manufacturer's websites and spoke with several dealers. My image of exactly what I wanted slowly, steadily came into focus. And what I wanted, of course, turned out to be unicorn-rare... A 2023 Ram 1500 Classic 2WD Regular Cab "Tradesman" w/ 8' bed. First we de-code the lingo: RAM spun off from DODGE in 2010 to become a stand-alone brand within the multi-national STELLANTIS brand portfolio. The "1500" vaguely refers to carrying capacity– in the old days, pickups came as 1/2-Ton, 3/4-Ton, or 1-Ton. Ram and Chevy/GMC trucks now come as 1500, 2500, or 3500, while the Fords appear as F-150, F-250, and F-350. These numbers no longer correlate to specific carrying capacities, and so one may simply think of them as Small, Medium, and Large. And the "Classic?" This is what truly captured my heart. When the Ram underwent the dreaded "New & Improved" re-design for 2010, they somehow had the good sense to lock in a series of old-tech trucks for people who– GASP!– just want a basic and inexpensive workingman's truck. "Regular Cab" means two doors and two seats. The "Tradesman" refers to the trim package, which is quite spare; the alternative trim, called "Warlock," is more expensive, more macho-looking, and less useful. And the 8' bed is, sadly, an increasingly rare feature that is often partially sacrificed to make room for a second pair of doors and a full back seat. The search was on, and I started locally. A nearby Rochester Ram dealer informed me that none of these models ever come to the northeastern United States, because no one wants a 2WD in a model when 4WD is available. But I kept looking, expanding my search radius 500 miles. (I am a hunter, after all, and I can be relentless when I know what I want.) That Rochester dealer was mostly correct. Foss Motors in Exeter, New Hampshire– 425 miles from my home– had not one but TWO such vehicles on their lot... and one of them was inexplicably, ridiculously discounted another $5k. A $1,000 non-refundable credit card deposit got them to immediately put a "SOLD" sign in its windshield. I felt like a big game hunter who had just dropped a charging cape buffalo in its tracks. THE DEAL AND THE DETAILS This transaction would be a multi-faceted, multivariable, multi-automobile, multi-state affair. I would be buying and partially financing a new motor vehicle nearly 500 miles from my home while keeping my old vehicle, i.e., I wasn't trading it in; rather, I would be gifting it to my daughter as an early Ph.D. graduation present. For her part she would need to have it shipped to Seattle for around $1500; she would be covering this tab with the proceeds fro selling her beloved but aging 1994 Ford Ranger. For the sake of simplicity I opted to generate an original NY State registration and plates rather than transferring mine from the Toyota. Sometimes simplicity– even if it costs a little more– is the preferable path... especially when conducting business from such a distance. I spent hours lining everything up– insurance, financing, and transportation. I booked a very inexpensive flight from Rochester to Boston (by way of New Jersey) and then a $12 train ride north to Exeter. My Boston BFF AndyS. volunteered to shuttle me from the airport to the train station. The two-hour delay on the Rochester tarmac proved to be a blessing... the rising sun provided a spectacular aerial view of the Finger Lakes, and my hang time between the later connecting flight to Boston and Amtrak's departure to Exeter was shortened by two hours. (It was surprisingly easy to re-book my connecting flight, and I even reaped a $20 refund in the process.) An especially gregarious Uber driver took me from the Exeter train station to my hotel, which was directly across the street from Foss Motors. After an hour of paperwork, I was piloting my new vehicle through the gorgeous mountain foliage, first across New Hampshire and then Vermont, on my way to Amsterdam to begin my work week. As I drove, I formed what felt like an intuitive or dare I say emotional bond with this piece of machinery. It glided more smoothly than any pickup I'd previously driven (Rams are famous for their sedan-like suspensions) and the slightest pressure on the accelerator prompted it to gallop like a racehorse eager to please. Women give names to cars they like; I'm going to do the same, in part because I'll be treating her like a mistress, regularly pampering her with gifts like a grill-guard, protective undercoating, a spray-in bed liner, a custom-made fiberglass truck cap... stuff like that. But I'm feeling stumped for a name, so I'm going to leave it up to our readership to come up with suggestions. Here is a photo of the two of us on our first date– * * * * * * * NOTES: HERE is a brief but comprehensive summary of the evolution of Dodge pickup trucks, from the pre-WWII 4WD farm truck to the wartime “Power Wagon” workhorse to its civilian successor to the current Ram series. I was amused to learn that this Ram 1500 Classic 2-door model (and ONLY this model) is completely made in Ram's Mexico factory... which is also their highest-rated factory for quality control and manufacturing excellence. Buying this vehicle from Foss Motors in Exeter, New Hampshire was the most positive car-buying experience I've ever had in my life, and I would happily recommend them to everyone I know.

(And yes, it is SAVING, not SAVINGS.) “Spring forward, fall back” time has arrived, this time maybe for good— the U.S. Senate has just voted UNANIMOUSLY to make Daylight Saving Time permanent. I don’t like that idea…nor would I support banning it completely. I think we need to keep it as is. Here’s why– * * * * * * * A few springtimes ago, an old friend got online and complained about losing an hour of sleep for no useful reason when we set our clocks forward, and I felt that he might benefit from a little Grumpy Old Mansplaining. As an overnight trucker, I can attest through firsthand observation that in June— our sunniest month here in the northern hemisphere— the northeastern sky begins to pinken at 3:00AM as I make my way into Boston. By 4:00AM it is darn near light enough for golf, definitely so by 4:20AM. The June sun rises in Boston right after 5:00AM and sets about 8:20PM. I asked my friend whether he would rather that hour of golf-enabling light between 7:30 and 8:30PM, or— as would be the case WITHOUT Daylight Saving Time— between 3:00 and 4:00AM. He immediately saw my reasoning. But what about the flip side? On January 1st of each year, the sun rises in Boston at 7:13AM on Standard Time. If and/or when we make Daylight Saving Time permanent, that would put the January sunrise out to 8:13AM. And because the sun takes such a low track through our winter sky, we have less pre-dawn illumination than in summer. The upshot of this is that our children will head off to school in blackness, as will most folks head off to work. While it is true that the late sunrise would be in exchange for an extra hour of sunlight in the evening, that would hardly be as useful in the dead of winter as it would be in warmer months. But here’s where it gets truly problematic— Boston is on the eastern edge of a time zone that extends a thousand miles to the west, and the sun cannot be everywhere at once in a given time zone. Indianapolis, for instance, is 900 miles west of Boston and therefore a full hour behind in sunrise and sunset times… and so if this new legislation becomes law, most of Indiana would not see a January sunrise until after 9:00AM. One could rightly say that Daylight Saving Time in the warm half of the year prevents Boston from having a largely useless 4:00AM June sunrise, while NOT having Daylight Saving Time in the winter prevents Indianapolis from having an utterly undesirable 9:00AM January sunrise. I call that a win-win. So there we have it. This isn’t complicated. We benefit from having Daylight Saving Time in the summer, and we benefit from NOT having it in the winter. All it costs, really, is the inconvenience of losing one hour every spring, as we don’t really suffer from gaining that hour back in the fall. As inconveniences go, I find it rather minor… hell, most of our clocks even manage to change themselves nowadays We humans have it pretty good here on Earth— we are just the right distance from the sun, and we also have the perfect atmospheric composition to support life. If our axis of rotation weren’t slightly cockeyed relative to our orbital path, we wouldn’t be discussing Daylight Saving Time at all because we wouldn’t have any seasons, and the hours of daylight we experience in a given spot would be exactly the same every day of the year. I think that would be pretty boring. But alas, instead of appreciating the variety of the four seasons, people dig into the semi-annual Daylight Saving debate as if it gives them something they need as much as sunshine itself— something to gripe about.

I didn't really need a new pickup truck... which, paradoxically, made this the best time to shop for one. Some things are quintessentially (if not specifically) American– the lever-action rifle, long associated with cowboys and red-plaid deer hunters of yore; pit barbecue cookery, from Texas Brisket to St. Louis Ribs to Carolina Smoked Chicken; and the Pickup Truck. Regular readers might recall last year's essay about car shopping (CAR SHOPPING WITH DANNYM.) Well, the time has come to again apply the lessons I previously shared... and perhaps ponder the changes in the ever-evolving economy that have made some of those lessons obsolete. Of course, some truisms I've absorbed during during my 6.5 earthly decades constitute truths eternal... like this nugget in particular, from my deer hunting mentor DavidB. after I harvested a rather small buck: "Gotta shoot'em when you see'em, 'cause you CAN'T shoot'em when you DON'T see'em!" And also another notion, which I learned myself through painful experience: "The best time to look for a new car or a new job is when you don't need one." Taken together, they've advantageously guided me through numerous vehicular and employment transitions. I've long been perfectly happy with my 2020 Toyota Tacoma 4WD pickup truck. It has reliably gotten me to work on time, nicely facilitated shopping for lumber, shrubbery, etc., and it has never broken down. Based on Toyota's reputation and my personal experience, its current 50,000 odometer tally was but a down payment on its potential lifespan, and it would surely remain a perfectly good Ph.D. graduation gift (as promised) for my daughter in early 2025. But I always keep a sharp eye on long-range social, political, and economic trends in general as well as specific developments in the auto industry, and I've seen enough signs that the best time for me to switch vehicles might be... RIGHT NOW. For one thing, our U.S. economy, presently saddled with $33 trillion in debt, is, according to many observers, looking increasingly vulnerable to complete and total collapse. Indeed, the acclaimed investor Dr. Michael (“The Big Short”) Burry just shorted Wall Street (and, by extension, the entire U.S. economy and perhaps Western Civilization itself) to the tune of $1.6 billion. With one my retirement investment accounts completely invested in the market and my 65th birthday just two weeks away, it seemed a prudent time to move some money around. And then there's the auto industry itself. My poor Tacoma has long suffered the scorn of the motoring press for being "too boring," i.e., too safe and reliable. CAR AND DRIVER ranks it 7th (and dead-last) in its category; others in the industry are similarly dismissive. As someone who pilots 120'-long, 50-ton, 34-wheeled vehicles down the highway for a living, I tend to seek excitement in places beyond the pavement, where a mere second of uncertainty or a sudden surprise can foster mass casualties. Despite the nearly unanimous negative reviews, my current iteration of the Toyota Tacoma is extremely popular among buyers who value, as I do, its reliability... an increasingly important consideration in a time when the wait for replacement parts is often measured in multiple months. So what does Toyota do? Stick to what works and keep their loyal customers happy, or cave to the snarky blatherings of the automotive press? (Spoiler Alert: The latter.) A few months ago, Toyota excitedly announced the imminent arrival of the "All New & Improved!" 2024 Toyota Tacoma lineup. Based on my experience, this means that it will likely be 30-40% more expensive than its immediate predecessor and laden with new bells and whistles that I (and surely others) will find utterly useless. So I started shopping hard for one of the last a new 2023 Tacomas. * * * * * * * Small pickup trucks used to be widely available. I bought my first Toyota pickup in 1995, before they had even self-identified as "Tacoma." It was both tiny and fun to drive. Similar versions of the 4-cylinder, 2-seat pickup from Mazda, Mitsubishi, and Datsun (predecessor marque of Nissan) likewise enjoyed broad popularity in America. The wonderful little Ford Courier debuted in 1972 as a Ford-badged Mazda, and in 1983 it morphed into the Ford Ranger. Volkswagen, meanwhile, offered a pickup version of their ubiquitous Rabbit from 1979-84 that was famous for its durable and miserly (> 50 mpg) if under-powered diesel power plant. By the end of the 20th Century the field was full of affordable and fun little pickup trucks. There was just one problem– there wasn't much room for profit on these vehicles, especially as compared to the increasingly popular and shamelessly overpriced SUVs. And so small pickups started vanishing from the market, and those that remained steadily grew bigger and more expensive. Those tiny little pickups of yesteryear– including my multiple and beloved Tacomas– have ballooned into "mid-size" pickups twice the size and quadruple the price of those from the early 1990's. Even so, I was ready to purchase the right 2023 Tacoma, if I could find one. However, my diligent search revealed that those meeting my specs had completely vanished from showrooms nationwide. Sight unseen, I already knew I didn't want a new and improved 2024. And so, Dear Reader, it seemed like was time for me to open my mind, expand my horizons, and explore new ground. I've never held any fondness for, nor entertained any interest in, the vehicles produced by the Dodge/Chrysler Corporation... quite the opposite, actually, because of one particular experience. Andrea and I began team-driving the USA in a tractor-trailer in 2010, right when the Ram pickup truck brand spun off from Dodge to become a stand-alone marque. And among our many and varied driving assignments, we were occasionally tasked with heading down to Laredo on the Mexican border to pick up a load of Mexican-built engines, and then bringing them to the Ram factory in Warren, Michigan... where they were bolted into vehicles that would be sold as "American-Made." We thought at the time that this practice was a little sleazy, and the factory itself was a messy, dirty hell-hole. I recall telling people that after seeing the factory I wouldn't want a Ram if it were given to me. But two things eventually softened my stance... good reviews, and, of all things, an especially touching Super Bowl commercial: We're all suckers for certain things, I suppose, but I figure any company with the balls to air an ad like this during Super Bowl 47 in 2013 deserved my further attention. Viewers were stunned, much like they were during the Apollo 8 crew's reading from Genesis on Christmas Eve, 1968. (See And So This Is Christmas… for the link.) Good reviews, of course, count more than good commercials. I noticed that several of my co-workers– guys who know a lot about trucks– drive Rams. And try as they might, the motoring press had trouble finding fault with Ram's lineup... especially one version that seemed to be conceived with ME in mind. As usual, I did some homework... a LOT of homework. And then, having identified my quarry, the hunt was on. TO BE CONTINUED...

As I write this, it is not even Halloween yet. But Holiday crap has been in the stores since Labor Day. Before going on one of my Grumpy Old Mansplainer rants, just a quick note: I'm working on two BIG essays... one about tracking down and purchasing my new pickup truck, and another about my upcoming 65th birthday dinner. (Partial spoiler alert: the dinner will be a re-creation of a meal from an iconic movie... I'm calling the main course "Roast Beef with Extreme Prejudice.") In the meantime, we need to talk about Christmas. If the enjoyment of Christmas hasn't been mostly ruined for you, you either haven't been paying attention or you still believe in Santa Claus. I'll skip a detailed delineation of everything objectionable about the modern Yuletide season and instead focus on ways to relieve your stress and enjoy it more. Be Charitable. Find a legitimate and ethical charity worthy of your support, and then make life a little better for people who might not even to able to have Christmas. It really, really is better to give than to receive... you'll feel it in your heart. Avoid Plastic. As evident in the photo above, plastic is everywhere... especially at Christmastime. Think for a moment about what plastic represents-- everything that is flimsy, cheap, and fake, permanent only in the worst sense of the word. Now imagine having a Christmas with zero or minimal plastic... no plastic gifts or decorations. It may be hard for some to believe, but people used to actually do that once upon a time. (And speaking of plastic, spending money you already have makes Christmas's aftermath much more pleasant. Unpayable credit card bills suck.) Listen to Christmas Music. But choose wisely, for a lot of modern Christmas is as cheap and tacky as the aisle of plastic toys shown above. Think old... "Holiday Traditions" is a satellite radio station worth a listen right now, and a multitude of other stations will be added in the next few weeks. I find Christmas music played on antique instruments especially soothing, and I really love "Rat Pack" versions of traditional Christmas songs. Watch Christmas Movies Instead of Football. The NFL season (including preseason) now extends from mid-July to mid-February. They won't miss you for a couple of weeks in December, and your family will benefit from your presence. Make Holiday Cooking Enjoyable. Don't over-extend your ability or your kitchen capacity. Stick to dishes you've mastered. Remember that cooking should be fun, and that stress is contagious. And finally... Remember that Christmas/Chanukah/Kwanzaa/Pagan Rituals/Whatever all give substantial meaning to the season for people of faith. If that includes you, try not to lose sight of that. If not, you might want to just get outside some night and observe the deep and vast darkness of the Winter Solstice sky... and ponder, perhaps, that we might not be alone and that we might be here for a reason. On that note, I'll leave you with one of my favorite Christmas memories... the The Apollo 8 Broadcast from Lunar Orbit on Christmas Eve,1968 from lunar orbit. (HERE is a complete and fabulous documentary on the historic mission.)

October might well be the new September, but it is still cold enough most mornings for a wool sweater. I'm in heaven. Pure Bliss... so long as one is dressed for the weather. Danny's Table devotees might recall a pair of wool-related essays last year-- one piece on Harris Tweed, and another about the art, science, and pleasures of online Sweater Hunting. There is good news to report on both. While sitting in my truck waiting for my next assignment, I've recently begun to surf eBay for really cool stuff, like vintage tweed blazers and '40's-looking argyle sweater vests. I look for offerings with the "make an offer" button, and boy, do I make an offer-- generally around $15 for an item listed for $50. Then I sit back and watch what happens. Some come back with a counter-offer every bit as insulting as my offer; I interpret that as a "no." Others simply decline. But as of late I've found the market stunningly tilted toward us, the buyers. Indeed, a surprising number accept my low offers, and some wonderful threads have been arriving on my doorstep. My recent haul includes a pair of earth-tone merino wool turtlenecks, a fabulous argyle vest, Polo khaki slacks ($10!) and an especially nice surprise-- a Brooks Brothers tweed jacket that turned out to be a genuine Harris Tweed. Preppy argyle, $15... ...and Brook Brothers Harris Tweed for $20! Two decades ago I was between marriages and fairly active on an online dating site. In an early text conversation with one of my connections, she said, "Gee, you're profile is kind of thin." I replied, "That's 'cause I'm here to hunt, not to fish." This is a useful distinction on eBay-- if you really need a particular item, you hunt it down until you find it, and then you pay whatever it takes (within reason) to acquire it. But if you just want to have fun, you throw some low-ball offers into the watery depths and then see what kind of nibbles you elicit. (BTW, my quip about hunting vs. fishing didn't scare this woman away; she and I had a year-long romance, and we remain in cordial contact to this day.) Whether it's the economy or simply people of means suddenly downsizing, the deals are out there, better than ever. Happy hunting... or fishing... to all! NOTES: For those who think that buying used clothing might be a little... creepy or something, consider that new new sweaters and blazers are often of greatly inferior quality compared to those produced decades ago. They've lasted until now because they are so well-made.

Nothing kick-starts the appetite like the first nose-tingling whiff of Autumn. Here's this year's first feast of my favorite season. During the past year we've been chronicling various iterations of Prime Rib. (See HERE.) For an interesting and delicious variant, we recently tackled Prime Rib of Veal, a.k.a. Rack of Veal. (In the interests of uniform and clear terminology, we'll go with Rack of Veal.) Prime Rib of Veal, a.k.a. Rack of Veal... typically sold in 6-rib sections. Rack of Veal belongs to the family of 4-legged rib roasts that includes, from smallest to largest, Rack of Lamb, Pork Loin Roast, Rack of Veal, and Beef Prime Rib. During my recent experiments with all of the above and my related recipe research, I arrived at the following generalization: The smaller the roast, the higher the optimal roasting temperature. This is because we meat mavens ask two main things of our roasts-- a dark and flavorful exterior crust, and a uniformly cooked (but never over-cooked) interior. For the relatively tiny Rack of Lamb, we give it a short blast in a 450-475ºF oven (convection, if available) in order to quickly bless the exterior with a crispy crust before the interior is overcooked. If we attempted to achieve the same result in, say, a 225ºF oven, we'd wind up with an interior akin to dried-out shoe leather by the time the outer crust attains a sufficiently dark and delicious hue. But at the other end of the spectrum, Beef Prime Rib slow-roasted at 200-225ºF requires several hours in the oven to attain a proper internal temperature, more than enough time to nicely brown its exterior. Furthermore, Beef Prime Rib is more "forgiving" than smaller roasts in that we can safely give such a large cut a crust-enhancing final finishing blast at 450-475ºF for few minutes without risk of overcooking the interior. In my experience, Rack of Veal comfortably occupies a nice little sweet spot among the family of roasts. It is nearly as forgiving as Prime Rib... indeed, practically foolproof if cooked to the correct temperature; and, like Pork Loin and Rack of Lamb, it benefits greatly from a flavorful slathering of garlic, mustard, and/or herbs. And perhaps more than any other roast, Rack of Veal provides an showcase for some of one's fanciest sauce-making due to its relatively neutral flavor profile. * * * * * * * So-- let's look at our First Feast of Autumn 2023 in detail: Roasted Rack of Veal Mushroom-Madeira Sauce Potatoes Dauphinoise French Green Beans The above-pictured Rack of Veal has been "Frenched," that is, the thin layer of meat and fat has been scraped from the ribs, resulting in a prettier presentation at the expense of some delicious gnawing. (I omitted this step.) MAJOR Pro-tip: Depending on the size of the roast, slicing the finished masterpiece between the ribs to allow one rib per person will likely result in portions too generous for the average diner. We instead recommend roasting on the bones and then carefully slicing the bones away, and then slicing the boneless loin into elegant portions. By doing so, this would extend the roast shown above from six to eight or even nine servings. That being said, leaving the ribs in place and slicing between them is perfectly okay when feeding a table-ful of hungry manly-man guests. I gave the roast some high heat up front, 475ºF for about 15 minutes to get it a little brown. I then lowered the temperature to 225ºF and monitored the internal temperature as it rose up to 120ºF, knowing that I would be finishing it to the target interior temperature of 132ºF in my mother-in-law's oven. A final resting took it up to 140-145ºF, at which point the center was deliciously moist... and also perfectly light-pink, like rose quartz-- Rose Quartz is a gemstone, not the name of a Jewish housewife. This is how the very center of your Rack of Veal needs to look. The mushroom-Madeira sauce takes work, but it's well worth it. I slowly and thoroughly browned some sliced onions, then added sliced portobello mushrooms, gently stirring as needed. I then added a splash of cognac, burned off some of the alcohol (see HERE for advice on cooking with booze) and then added a splash of Madeira and did the same. (I could have doubled the Madeira and eliminated the cognac, but I didn't want the sweet and nutty Madeira flavors to overpower the complex and delicious wine I was serving.) I added a pinch of thyme, stirred a little more, and then added beef stock, reduced it, and finally a judicious amount of heavy cream and then carefully reduced it some more. If it tastes a bit bitter at this stage, stirring in a swirl of unsalted butter helps. (Yes, this sauce is unabashedly rich.) The potato dish was predictably fabulous. (See article and recipe HERE.) And French Green Beans are simply a skinnier variant of regular old green beans and similarly difficult to screw up. I quickly blanched them and then simply simmered them in clarified butter. Veal pairs well with a wide variety of wines. For an August grilled veal chop with garlic and fresh herbs, I would have poured a big and brassy Chardonnay. But with autumn comes a renewed thirst for reds, so on this occasion I opted for an opulently rich Californian Merlot. Truth be told, you ought to feel free serving whatever wine you like with this dish; the "wine police," insofar as they actually exist, are especially lenient with veal dinners. * * * * * * * NOTES: One rarely finds Rack of Veal is the meat case at the local supermarket, but large, quality-oriented stores should be able to order it for you. It is also available from numerous online meat purveyors. The term "veal" often activates alarm bells among animal lovers; indeed, some veal is raised more humanely than others. Information on how, exactly, your veal is raised should be readily available. On a related note-- PRO-TIP: Whole Foods Market sells veal, and I have confidence in their claims regarding their ethical sourcing.

And both the reason and the solution seem obvious. (At least to Yours Truly.) The sporting press and NFL fans concur– the quality of play Thursday Night Football is sub-par. (Even The New York Times agrees.) The reason is self-evident: American Football– from Pee Wee League to High School to College and Professional– requires a week between games for players to simultaneously recover physically from the last game and strategically prepare for the next game. Having two teams play only four days after the last game, therefore, more often than not leads to tired and banged-up and poorly-prepared players sleep-walking through a dumbed-down game plan. And this inevitably leads to a lousy product that, by the third quarter, appeals only to deranged fans and heavy gamblers. With but a modicum of reflection, I've arrived at a possible solution that seems so obvious that I cannot believe the NFL hasn't thought of this already. The NFL regular season is 18 weeks long. Each of the NFL's 32 teams plays 17 games with one week off... a "bye" week. SO– rather than give each team two full weeks off between games for their bye week, I suggest the following: take two teams. Give them TWO consecutive Sundays off, and then, in lieu of a bye week, have them play on the Thursday night that falls 11 days after their last Sunday game and 10 days before their next Sunday game. And then do this every week until every team in the NFL plays a Thursday Night game. There are just a couple of minor wrinkles: there are 3 games on Thanksgiving (no problem) and the annual Thursday Night "Kickoff Game" that inaugurates the new season wouldn't constitute a bye week for either participant because they play that game in place of one on the season's the first Sunday. We would therefore have them play each other again in the last Thursday night game of the year in Week 16 of the schedule. (This would especially make sense if the previous Super Bowl winner– the traditional host team of the annual "Kickoff Game"– played their closest division rival in their 2 Thursday night contests.) * * * * * * * If the NFL had a suggestion box, I would surely be stuffing it on a regular basis. Some might recall my idea from last season for what I would consider the perfect format for NFL overtime games: Give each team alternating possessions beginning at the 50-yard line with 1:00 on the clock and 2 timeouts. The result of each possession would be either a TD, a FG, or nothing, then the other team gets a possession. Turnovers result in change of possession unless they are returned for a TD. Rinse & repeat until one team outdoes the other in a given round. I could go on, but I won't. I WILL add that as a former NCAA punter and kicker I am delighted and amazed at the rapid advances in both over the past two decades. Punters routinely uncork 60- or even 70-yard punts, and the increasing strength and accuracy of placekickers have made 55+-yard field goals darn near routine... and, alas, touchbacks way too common. I'm still waiting for a rule change that will make kickoffs worth watching. Until then, I'd settle for decent Thursday Night Football.