31 July 2009

Across the Frozen Steppes ...

Greetings,

A couple of weeks ago, I referred in passing to our encounter with Steak Tartare, and now seems to be as good a time as any to tell you all the sordid details ...

The scene is a country property on the Southern Highlands of NSW, the characters are your humble scribe and family plus friends who own the property. The time is late afternoon ... We've spent the day touring the farm, admiring all the work our friends have done fixing fences, clearing dams and planting trees, but now we're all gathered in the house, imbibing a cheeky Rough Red as our hosts begin dinner ...

The Man of the House, dressed fittingly (and fetchingly) in his wife's frilly apron, brings a tray to the kitchen bench. On it, he has arranged two large slices of aged steak, a bowl and a series of spoons. As we chat (and, yes all right, continue to sample the Rough Red), the MotH begins to gently scrape meat from the slab of steak, using one of the spoons. Each time he has a small pile of finely minced steak, he scoops it up and places it into the bowl.

We chat and drink and watch.

I glance across to the other side of the kitchen where our hostess is thinly slicing onions and gherkins, setting out small bowls of capers, a variety of sauces and preparing a basket of fresh bread. Already, my mind is picturing a delicious steak sandwich or gourmet hamburger, so I fetch my friend another wine to speed her in her work.

Time passes ... The scraping continues and the pile of meat grows until finally the last morsel is added to the pile, whereupon our hosts triumphantly carry their respective bowls and trays to the table. I rise in happy anticipation of our trip outside to the barbeque where we'll cook our burgers ... But no-one else is moving. In fact, our hosts call their children and ours to the table and we all sit down.

They then proceed to spoon mounds of meat onto plates; these are then expertly shaped into hollowed-out rings, into which a raw egg is broken. Tiny piles of the various condiments and accompaniments are added to each plate and the plates are passed around the table. Smiling as I receive mine, I wait till everyone is served, then begin to slide my chair from the table in preparation for our move -- en masse -- to the barbeque.

But still no-one moves.

And then the full horror of the situation dawns on me ... This is dinner!

Trying to disguise my panic, I look to the Love of My Life, who seems to be enjoying watching how I'm going to cope with what is rapidly (for me) developing into a full-blown Social Disaster.

"Umm," says I, surveying the artfully presented dish with its beautifully arranged ingredients, "This looks lovely ... what's it called?"

"Steak Tartare," said our host.

"Oh," I replied in full conversational swing.

"You mix it with the egg and spices and sauces and then spread it on the bread," our hostess explained, demonstrating the procedure then taking an appreciative bite from her bread.

"Raw?" I squeaked.

"It's really good," said that person who used to be the LoML.

So, girding my loins, I stifled a shudder as I mixed raw egg yoke into raw meat, then added the entire contents of my condiment bowls. I spread a miniscule amount onto the bread, then closing my eyes to think of England, I took a bite. While I was eating, it really was quite tasty, so I smiled and muttered my compliments, but then I made the mistake of looking down at the piece of bread as I placed it on my plate and reached for the wine to replenish my Dutch courage.

And (to echo the words of Lloyd Bridges in Sea Hunt) then I saw it!

There, on the piece of bread I was about to put into my mouth, I saw a blood stain slowly seeping into the rest of the slice, and try as I might, I just couldn't bring myself to eat it.

Yes, I know it's hypocritical, because I do eat meat, and I know I shouldn't be so squeamish because that's what meat is, after all. But ... ooo-er ... (shudder).

My hosts had, by this time, noticed that I wasn't exactly asking for seconds and took pity on me, saying that they knew it was an acquired taste and they wouldn't be at all offended if I left it. In fact, our host quickly removed the untouched food on my plate, gleefully saying it would make a great hamburger for his lunch the next day!

Since we were all friends, no harm was done, and we still chuckle about it nearly three decades later, but I've never been able to bring myself to eat raw meat!

There are some interesting stories about the origins of Steak Tartare -- the most common being the one our friends told us that the Tartar horsemen used to cut strips of raw meat to take with them on raids and hunts. They placed these under their saddles in order to give the horses a little extra padding from the saddle, and when they unsaddled at night, the meat, that had been pounded and pummelled all day, was tender enough to eat raw. And since they often couldn't light fires for fear of attracting their enemies, this was just as well.

However, some people just can't leave a good story along, and this week's Little Something Extra has some other explanations, as well as a number of recipes for preparing Steak Tartare.

And I solemnly promise to get off the subject of food for a few weeks!

But first, a word about sandwiches ... Or just one sandwich, actually -- the sandwich that is the English language. English vocabulary is a bit like a Club sandwich, having three layers, as Jeremy Butterfield explains in a delightful book called Damp Squid: the English language laid bare:

English has three main layers: at the bottom, chronologically, Anglo-Saxon or Old English; in the middle, varieties of French; as the top layer, Latin and Greek. These three ingredients are still apparent in just about any stretch of text you care to look at, as can be seen in the following extract from the first page of The Lord of the Rings:

The Lord of the Rings: words from Old English, French, Latin

See more about the sandwich that is the English language

Last week's story about the debt-free villagers got some people exercising their little grey cells ...

Stanley Salmon wrote: Regarding your "rich tourist visiting town in debt" story, my son Daniel offered this lucid explanation:

"There is a catch, as there is a bit that isn’t true in the opening statement: everyone wasn’t technically in debt. They had debt, but all actually had balance sheets of zero, since they had assets (i.e., what they were owed by others) equal to their liabilities (what they owed to others). All the tourist’s money allowed them to do was net off their assets and liabilities, but their balance sheets all remained zero throughout.

This of course raises the question of why they held debt in the first place. My guess is that in pre-credit crunch times they sensibly took out debt to capitalise on the availability of low cost borrowing and the growth opportunities of an expanding economy – they became “leveraged”. But during the recent credit crunch the cost and availability of borrowing went up (they probably all needed the money back!) and the opportunities for growth declined. So the tourist’s money was a good thing as it allowed everyone to reduce their leverage, but it didn’t increase anyone’s balance sheet."

And from Huguette Bérubé: Michael Murdock, of Simon Fraser University, had the following simple explanation on your little story (It is the month of August in a small country town. It is raining, and the little town looks totally deserted. It is tough times, everybody is in debt, and everybody lives on credit. [...]) :

"Ah, yes. A classic example of leveraging. The starting position for the hotel proprietor was that he owed $100 to the butcher, and was owed $100 by the florist. His net position was nil at the beginning, and nil at the end. Likewise each of the others. There are six levels here, and in total showed $600 payable and $600 receivable. In fact the overall net situation was nil at the beginning and nil at the end."

This week's quiz:

Here are some more of those words that prove what a wonderful language English is ...

bedizen, foofaraw, quiddity, pablum, badinage, galumph, faineant, lugubrious, atelier, plangent

1. excessive or flashy ornamentation; also, a fuss over a trivial matter

2. mournful; gloomy; dismal

3. to dress or adorn in gaudy manner

4. to move in a clumsy manner or with a heavy tread

5. a workshop; a studio

6. beating with a loud or deep sound

7. doing nothing; idle; also, a do-nothing

8. something (as writing or speech) that is trite, insipid or simplistic

9. light, playful talk

10. the essence or nature of a thing

And these snippets that Marvin found illustrate the importance of proof-reading (as if my experiences recently weren't warning enough):

In a 1631 edition of the King James Bible, in Exodus 20 verse 14, the word "not" was left out. This changed the 7th commandment to read: "Thou shalt commit adultery."

Most of the copies were recalled immediately and destroyed on the orders of Charles I. But there are 11 copies still remaining. They are known as the "Wicked Bible." (The Bible museum in Branson - Missouri has one on display.) The printer was fined the equivalent of $400.

The word "not" was also left out in the 1653 edition. In 1 Corinthians 6 verse 9 it was printed: "Know ye not that the unrighteous shall inherit the kingdom of God" - instead of "Know ye not that the unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God." Again it was recalled immediately (dashing the hopes of many!). It is known as the "Unrighteous Bible."

Perhaps the error in Psalm 119 verse 161 in a 1702 version summed it all up: instead of "princes" it read: "printers have persecuted me." It is known as the Printer's Bible.

The hardest part about proof-reading your own work, as we all know, is that you tend to see what you meant to write, rather than what is actually on the screen in front of you. That's why I'm now trying to remember to use my Editing program every time I write something. This is the one I use (and recommend) here.

Map of the World

I often trawl this for comments to post on my site ... so if you say something about the newsletter or site, be warned, you may end up being read by one of the 2,000+ unique visitors who visit Write101 every day! Make your Mark on the World. Then stop by our Map of the World and read the messages. (Just click List) and add your mark.

Have Your Say

If you have a couple of minutes to spare this weekend, feel free to drop by and join the Write101 community and leave your comments. These new comments boxes scattered throughout the site will also be a source for me when I'm looking for comments to post on my site, so if you say something about the newsletter or site, remember, you may end up being read by one of the 2,000+ unique visitors who visit Write101 every day! You'll find the new toys on the Home Page.

Archives

Did you know that every newsletter is archived? So if you've missed anything since 1998 or want to revisit some favourites, you can do so any time!  

Don't forget to bookmark the page when you get there ... or even make it your Home Page. (For Internet Explorer, just click on Tools ... Internet Options ... General ... fill in www.write101.com/archives/index.htm and click OK. For Netscape, select Edit ... Preferences. Then select Navigator from the left menu, click Home Page and enter the URL above next to Location and click OK. For all the flash new browsers, you'll have to do a search on my mate google to find what to do. There's a search box on the archives page!)

Subscribe Here and Be Bribed!

If you've received this little missive from a friend, you can get your very own issue, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed every Friday morning by clicking here: mailto:WritingTips-subscribe@yahoogrups.com And I'm even prepared to offer a shameless bribe.  

Last week's quiz:

Let's see how much you know about the dirt beneath our feet ...

loess, permafrost, alluvium, fragipan, humus, rill, shale, leaching, tuff, moraine

1. accumulation of earth, stones, and other debris deposited by a glacier - MORAINE

2. removal of soluble material from soil or other material by percolating water  - LEACHING

3. loamy, brittle subsurface horizon low in porosity and content of organic matter and low or moderate in clay but high in silt or very fine sand; appears cemented and restricts roots. When dry, it is hard or very hard and has a higher bulk density than the horizon or horizons above. When moist, it tends to rupture suddenly under pressure rather than to deform slowly- FRAGIPAN

4.material, such as sand, silt or clay deposited on land by streams - ALLUVIUM

5. fine-grained material, dominantly of silt-sized particles, deposited by wind - LOESS

6. layers of soil, or even bedrock, occurring in arctic or subarctic regions, in which a temperature below freezing has existed continuously for a long time - PERMAFROST

7. well decomposed, more or less stable part of the organic matter in mineral soils - HUMUS

8. compacted deposit that is 50 percent or more volcanic ash and dust - TUFF

9. steep-sided channel resulting from accelerated erosion; is generally a few inches deep - RILL

10. sedimentary rock formed by the hardening of a clay deposit - SHALE

Speaking of food ... here's why engineers don't write recipe books:

Chocolate Chip Cookies:

Ingredients:

1. 532.35 cm3 gluten
2. 4.9 cm3 NaHCO3
3. 4.9 cm3 refined halite
4. 236.6 cm3 partially hydrogenated tallow triglyceride
5. 177.45 cm3 crystalline C12H22O11
6. 177.45 cm3 unrefined C12H22O11
7. 4.9 cm3 methyl ether of protocatechuic aldehyde
8. Two calcium carbonate-encapsulated avian albumen-coated protein
9. 473.2 cm3 theobroma cacao
10. 236.6 cm3 de-encapsulated legume meats (sieve size #10)

Mmm ... Yum!

A Little Something Extra

A detailed discussion of the origins of Steak Tartare and some different versions of how to cook ... er ... prepare it here.

And photos of the place where Steak Tartare first saw the light of day here.

Word of the week: Velleity (n) a slight wish or inclination; a mere wish, unaccompanied by an effort to obtain it

And isn't this a brilliant word?

How many times have you been underwhelmed by an urge to do something, only to sigh and dismiss it as another velleity?

Our word comes from the Latin velle 'to be willing.'

Oxymoron of the week: commercially viable ecology

And a Latin phrase our Tartar horsemen may well have needed after a long day's ride ...

Quod foetet?

[KWOHD FOH-tayt]