Sunday, December 9, 2007

Old Fashioned Popcorn

A roommate in his late thirties seems to have forgotten how "they used to make popcorn," because he was stunned to see it done on the stovetop, not in the microwave. (I have done it it fireplace and campfire, too, but that will not be covered this time.)

I know that it is real butter, and how much, because I put it there. Nor do I give control over the amount of salt to Orville or Paul or Jolly Rodger, so it really is to my taste.

If your store still stocks the popping kernels, likely well above or below the prime eye-level location, note that the 1lb. bag costs about half of the box of '8 servings.' It makes about 30 similar volume servings.

The technique outlined here will typically yield a waste of 5-12 unpopped kernels, which is far better performance than most of the microwave bags... if you try to get those last 30-50 unpopped ones by adding 15 seconds the next time, you run the risk of burning some of the popped corn and adding an unpleasant smoke flavor to the whole batch.
In a saucepan with heavy bottom and tight-fitting lid, pour just enough cooking oil to coat the bottom. (Olive oil will burn—do not use!) Pour in somewhat less than enough seed to cover the bottom; roll the pan around a bit to ensure all the loose seeds get coated with the oil. Go for high heat and stay close. As the seeds pop and build an insulating blanket above the bottom of the pan, you can cut your heat in half, then be ready, the moment you have gotten to less than a pop-per-second, to cut the gas or snatch it from the coil if using electric. Tip the popped corn into a serving bowl, then melt some butter in the bottom of the same pan and drizzle it over the corn in the bowl. I like to put salt in my palm to judge the amount, before dusting the surface of the fresh hot steamy stuff in the bowl. I use my table knife to stir popcorn up from the bottom and mix it with the dredged and salted stuff on the top.
You will come to judge how much of each item with time. I like a TBS of butter and 1/8 tsp. of salt for a batch scaled to my 6 qt. saucepan, which yields two very generous servings. In a smaller saucepan, one which is shorter than 5 inches, don't cover the entire bottom of the pan with seed unless you like the thrill of having the batch lift the cover off the top, and maybe a few escapees catching fire before you finish.

On a gas stove, you will be using substantially less energy than microwaving a batch, but with an electric stove you will use more.

I don't serve it with napkins, unless asked. Just as I regard popcorn as a vehicle for ingesting salt and butter, I would consider not licking it off the fingers to be an inexcusable waste! I am left with a pan, serving vessel and knife to clean, but if they are added to the next batch, the added energy consumption—carbon foot print and my own animal energy—is negligible.

Thursday, December 6, 2007

Slippery slope of sensibilities

My overarching theme has been the increasing isolation, in our 'developed' (but devolving) society, of the average person from the resources, design, production, repair, and even disposal of the 'stuff' on which we all rely. This could be energy, steel or lumber, or more refined things like automobiles, computers, furniture.

I see a semantic creep abroad in the land (now through the lens of a library science student) that has me pensive, and offer it for your own reflection. Newfangled objects of current popular adulation are paired with quainter terms whose function and sensibility they seem to displace:

information:knowledge :: consumer:customer :: producer:creator

The informal title of this Blog, it occurs to me, may be lost on readers 'below a certain age.' In an era within the cultural memory when I was learning the language, the Saturday night family bath ritual entailed filling the big galvanized washtub with water heated on the woodstove in the kettle... and was reused for all family members! It could be pretty foul for the last member, and all were cautioned to not "throw out the baby with the bathwater."

Something precious may well be disguised in what we are in such a rush to discard. I fear that literal and fugurative dirt under our collective fingernails is a wonderful thing, as it speaks to our independence and power to dealing with our practical world on a common ground where we have lots of options, and are not 'victims' but real players. We interface directly with the real world rather than experience the making and maintaining of its bounty through machines, corporations, or countries that isolate us—at a cost—from all that messy, gritty stuff. We have lost the satisfaction of knowing how to do things for ourselves, and to knowingly evaluate the handiwork of others.

Crafts and hobbies used to be much more central to the typical person's leisure, and gave them a direct appreciation for the skill and quality that went into those things that they DID purchase from others.

Got ten minutes for a 'green rant' about rampant consumerism? Go to
http://www.storyofstuff.com/index.html
I think that some of the old-fashioned involvement with all aspects of 'stuff,' will serve us well in getting our sorry world on a recovering track.