It happens every year about this time. I just can’t help it.

The daydreams about summer start in earnest. Daydreams about fly fishing uncrowded waters, creeks and big blue ribbons, demonstrating flawless skill while scores of brightly colored native fish are released with a smile.

Somehow I look like a young Robert Redford in these ethereal visions and cast with the authority and grace of John Juracek or Joe Willauer.

Even though it’s high summer in said daydreams, the wind never blows, the skies glow with that crystalline blue of the north country, hatches pour off the water’s surface like clockwork, drifts are drag-free and no one ever sunburns.

Maclean was right, the summer days in Montana really are almost arctic in length.

One of my favorite times to be on the big waters is early, early morning in summer, well before sunrise. Even in real life there are few if any other fishers rigging at the ramp, even if another early rising group joins us they’re subdued by the early hour.

Critters are still on the prowl, the morning’s coffee simply tastes better early and the river is just waking up for the day.

One sacrifice often made to this glorious early summer morning run is breakfast; it’s easy enough to brew a pot of coffee early (if you’re doing this right most of the coffee huts won’t be open yet) but cooking breakfast usually falls by the wayside.

We stumbled across this breakfast-on-the-run answer years ago, but only recently tweaked our Bacon Breakfast Cookies to make them worthy of the summer daydream above.

Packed with oats, nuts, sharp cheddar cheese and the mother of all good things food – bacon, these breakfast cookies are far, far tastier and teeming with more nutritional muscle than elvish lembas bread.

Make up a batch of these and you’ll start looking forward to missing your sit-down breakfasts.

Here’s to your summer river daydreams.

2/3 cup butter
2/3 cup brown sugar
1 large egg
2 tsp vanilla
1 cup flour
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1 and 1/2 cups quick oats
1/2 cup wheat germ
1 cup shredded sharp cheddar cheese
2/3 cup chopped walnuts
8 slices bacon, cooked crisp, crumbled

Prep work. Preheat your trusty oven to 350. Combine the flour, baking soda, salt, quick oats and wheat germ; mix well. Grate the cheese and chop the walnuts.

Bacon time. Cook the bacon to crisp, drain, then crumble when cool enough to handle.

Make a dough. Combine the butter and brown sugar in a stand mixer; mix until smooth. Beat in the egg, then add the vanilla.

Add the combined dry ingredients in 3 additions, mixing well.

Stir in the good stuff. By hand, stir in the cheese, walnuts and bacon.

Make a cookie. Form into 1/4 cup sized cookies and bake on parchment covered baking sheet for 12-14 minutes. Cool completely before storing; keep best in the fridge or cooler.

Enjoy.

Tags: Friday Feast

Pasta might just be one of the all time most seductive comfort foods.

Even the way most Americans enjoy pasta – as a pot of spaghetti buried under jarred marinara sauce – it’s hot, hearty and tasty.

And I’m not poking fun at jarred sauces here either. There are some very passably good ones out there; throw in some crumbled fresh Italian sausage, more tomatoes, sautéed onions and mushrooms, maybe even a handful of nice olives, and you’ll have yourself a dandy meal.

That said, there’s a whole ‘nother world of pasta goodness out there.

A few months ago a foodie friend (Rayna) went on a crazy pasta kick and did some digging to learn a few recipes that were different from the usual American table fare.

She lives back east and ended up in the family kitchens of some first and second generation Italians. To hear her describe it she’d died and gone to pasta heaven, gathering a recipe box full of stunningly simple yet often grandly flavored dishes.

She discovered, as you pasta experts already know, that many authentic Italian pasta dishes are richly flavored yet often contain just a few key, fresh ingredients. To hear her tell it though, the most illuminating discovery was the rich, uncomplicated goodness that cream based sauces bestow.

This recipe ended up being one of her favorites; she gushed about it so earnestly we served it for a family celebratory meal during the holidays.

Several members of our clan (who have endured a passel of ‘trial recipes’ over the years) pronounced it the hands-dow best pasta they’d ever eaten. There’s just enough heat to let you know it’s there, and with a subtle but definite citrus undercurrent from the orange, the richness of the cream doesn’t overwhelm the dish.

The prosciutto is a splurge and this would probably work well with bacon as well (what doesn’t), though you should try this one once as written as see what your clan thinks.

We can just about guarantee they’ll love it.

16 ounces fettuccine
2.5 Tbsp. butter, unsalted
6 ounces prosciutto, thinly sliced or torn into 2 inch strips
Zest and juice of a large orange
1 tsp. sugar
1-2 tsp. red pepper flakes
2/3 cup heavy cream
Fresh ground pepper
1/2 cup (or more) finely grated Parmesan

Cook the fettuccine. Bring a large pot of water to a boil, add salt (goal – as salty as seawater). Add the pasta and cook until 1 minute before al dente; drain, reserving 1/4 cup of the pasta water.

Prosciutto time. In a large nonstick skillet, melt the butter and sauté the prosciutto until nicely browned.

Bring it together. Add the reserved pasta water, orange juice and zest, sugar, red pepper flakes and the cream; bring to gentle boil. Add the fettuccine and stir until the pasta is well coated and cooked to al dente (just a minute or two). Season with salt (if needed) and pepper. Quickly stir in the cheese.

Serve now. Serve immediately in your favorite pasta bowl, pre-warmed of course. Rich and filling this easily serves four but don’t count on any leftovers.

Enjoy.

Tags: Friday Feast

Looking back I’m pretty sure where our family love affair with the humble pot sticker began.

She Who Must Be Obeyed and I were in fact on an interview trip in Albuquerque almost 23 years ago with a newborn daughter in tow. The position was pretty much out of contention after we took a good look at things the first day, though we had a great weekend enjoying our hosts and the tricultural amalgam that is Albuquerque.

And no, it didn’t work out to run up and fish the San Juan, dammit.

One evening we dined at an extraordinary Japanese restaurant, the name of which I can’t conjure up despite my best efforts at recollection. What I do remember is the meal we enjoyed that night.

Our hosts had arranged for us to dine on the uber-specialty of the house – an assortment of all the house specialities served on a giant model ship (6 feet or so) that was carried into our sunken dining room by four of the staff. SWMBO and I have never seen anything like it since…

The ‘serving ship’ was endowed with little nooks and crannies that contained food treasures of all shapes, sizes and construct. I was particularly impressed by the seemingly endless array of pot stickers (appropriately gyoza in Japanese) that were presented that night.

Immediately upon return to home base we started upon a quest for a tasty, reproducible and reliable pot sticker recipe to enjoy at home.

After several years of hunting and tasting trials we settled up on this one, which has also become our go-to birthday meal of choice for pretty much the entire family over the past two decades and counting, hence our christening these Birthday Pot Stickers.

More than once we’ve built a big batch of these and transported them to the riverside to enjoy as a first night camp dinner or just for the hell of it on a day run. As always, they’re inevitably better with a rumbling freestone a stone’s throw away.

An easy recipe to pull together, the time consuming step here is placing the filling in the dough wrappers and crimping them; SWMBO found a pot sticker crimper tool years ago that makes it a snap. You’ll want one, as our crew and a guest or two can easily plow through five or six dozen of these for a birthday dinner.

The Essentials
8 ounces cabbage, finely shredded
2 and 1/2 lb. ground pork (works well with turkey too)
5 green onions, minced
3 Tbsp. ginger root, finely chopped
4 Tbsp. Tientsin preserved vegetables, rinsed, finely chopped
2 large eggs, beaten
1 package pot sticker skins (need 60 to 70)
6 Tbsp. vegetable oil
6 cups chicken stock

Seasoning
1 tsp. salt
2 tsp. sugar
4 tsp. thin soy sauce
2 Tbsp. oyster sauce
4 Tbsp. white wine
4 Tbsp. corn starch

Sealing mix
2 Tbsp. flour mixed with 4 Tbsp. cold water

Prep the vegetables. Finely chop or grate the cabbage; should have roughly 2 cups. Mince together the green onions, ginger root and Tientsin preserved vegetables in a food processor; transfer to a mixing bowl.

Add the rest. Mix the pork into the minced vegetables, combine well. Now add the cabbage, eggs and seasoning mix; combine well.

Wrap and seal. Spoon a scant Tbsp. of the mixture into the center of pot sticker skin; brush edges lightly with the sealing mix, fold in half and press edges together to seal. She Who Must Be Obeyed years ago found a nifty kitchen tool to seal and flute the edges just like you see in your fav restaurant – it helps. After sealing, gently flatten each pot sticker along its base; just grasp by the top seam and gently push down.

Cook. Heat a large frying pan over medium-high heat; add 2 Tbsp. oil and roughly a third of the batch of pot stickers. Fry until the bases of the pot stickers start to brown (30 – 45 seconds); immediately add 1 1/2 cups of chicken stock, cover, and cook until the stock is absorbed. Give ‘em a shake to loosen any that stuck and brown the bottoms again to your liking. Repeat to cook the rest.

Serve. Best steaming hot right out of the pan with your secret dipping sauce(s) in hand. Easy enough to prepare ahead and tote along to cook in camp or at the riverside.

Enjoy.

Tags: Friday Feast

Ok, we’ll readily admit we’ve been living under a rock for the past year or so as far as some aspects of social media go.

True, we’ve been feeling a bit sorry for ourselves being out of pocket and all, and my (Mark) meniscal tear and tibial fracture this summer, besides being a literally pain in the knee and figuratively in the ass, curtailed fishing options dramatically.

Life’s looking a bit better these days; despite it being mid-winter we’re all planning various returns to mountain country, with Jake in line to escape back home before any of the rest of us.

That said, as we’ve crawled out from under our rock we’ve been having fun being a bit more social on Twitter and Facebook.

We’ve overhauled our Chi Wulff twitter page and are slowly getting back in the groove there; we’ll be posting some version of our twitter feed in the sidebar once we figure out a format we can live with.

For our Friday Feast and Thirsty Thursday fans we also launched a Chi Wulff’s Friday Feast twitter feed and will be ramping up our discussion there over the next few weeks. Turns out a hell of a lot of fly fishers love good food and tasty adult beverages and would like to chat a bit more about those things than we’ve been doing in the blog. Look for the Friday Feast twitter feed in the sidebar as well.

Jake’s been in charge of cranking up our FB page again and we’ll be more active there as we’ve had a hell of a lot of fun interacting a bit more with fishers and friends around the country and the world.

We’re even tossing around the idea of a big riverside party sometime this summer – who knows, it could happen.

Tags: Chi Wulff

He’s been badgering diners across the West to do it for him for so long I can’t even remember the first time I witnessed it in person.

Ed, our adopted family member-mentor-business partner-requisite eccentric friend, has a thing for what he calls ‘plain folk food’. I know, I know – we’ve said that before, though at times (like this) it bears repeating.

Ed’s of course referring to food you feed a flock of hungry fishers without breaking the bank; food that makes you want ‘just one more little helping’ and that makes you fight over the leftovers if indeed there are any.

So what does Ed badger waitresses for in every breakfast joint we’ve been into around the country?

Meaty sausage gravy slathered on a big plate of crispy hash browns. Even better if they’ll fry up some onions, mushrooms and peppers and throw those in too.

I’ll be damned if he hasn’t gotten it every time I’ve seen him ask for it; he’s at that stage where I guess women find him spry and cute but figure he’s otherwise harmless (or that they could at least outrun him).

We ran across this recipe a few years ago and after several iterations and revisions, most notably by Ed, have arrived at this one – Ed’s Sausage and Hash Brown Breakfast Bake.

This is real by-george stick to your ribs food; we can eat this early at the house, hit the river, launch the boat and won’t be hungry until the sun is high and it’s time to get out and stretch 6 or 7 hours later.

Another virtue is that this recipe can be made up a day or two ahead, held in the fridge, and baked while you’re in the shower and getting the gear ready for a day on the water.

We’ve found two problems with it though. One, Ed has been spending more overnights with us that ever before (and yes, he calls ahead and pre-orders this for breakfast). And two, when we serve this for a company meal everyone seems to want another helping, so plan breakfast a little earlier in the morning or you’ll be running late.

2 lb. bulk breakfast sausage (we lean to the spicier versions)
2 medium sweet onions, small dice
1/2 lb button mushrooms, sliced
1 green bell pepper, small dice
1 red bell pepper, small dice
1 tbs red pepper flakes
4 Tbsp. all purpose flour
3 cups whole milk
2 lb. frozen hash browns
2 1/2 cups grated sharp cheddar cheese
4 green onions, finely chopped

Sous time. Preheat the oven to 350 if making and baking in one swoop; note this holds really well put together the night before and baked the next morning. Prep the veggies, butter a 9×13 baking dish and grate the cheese.

Sauté time. In a large skillet over medium heat cook the sausage, breaking it up as you go, until mostly brown. Add the vegetables and red pepper flakes and sauté with the browning sausage until soft. The sausage should be fully cooked at this point.

Sauce time. Sprinkle the flour over the sausage mixture and stir to mix well. Now pour in the milk, stir to mix well and cook until the sauce thickens to a gravy-like consistency.

Assembly time. Pour the hash browns into the buttered dish and level evenly. Sprinkle 1 and 1/2 cups of the cheese over the hash browns and add the sausage mixture, spreading evenly. Top with the remaining cheese.

Oven time. Bake for 45 minutes until the spuds are tender and the top is crusty and brown, top with the chopped green onions. (You’ll need to bake it about an hour if you made it a night or two before and held it in the fridge).

Serve it up with your blackest, biggest cup of coffee and a full bottle of Crystal hot sauce within easy reach.

Enjoy.

Tags: Friday Feast

At first I thought it was because I owned a wooden drift boat and a crew-cab, long bed pickup.

The boat was a sweet one – a 17 and a half footer, wide-bottomed fishing machine, painted a gorgeous fire-engine red, with fore and aft fishing stations, vertical-grain Douglas Fir floorboards, a nifty anchor rig and of course a big cooler.

It was oiled on the inside (Deks Olje) which let the natural grain of the wood shine through, wasn’t too hot on long summer days and just felt damned comfortable.

The boat was (relatively) light as a feather, easy to row and drew only inches so we could skooch across riffle bars with ease.

But that wasn’t it.

The real reason invitations to go fishing kept rolling in back in the Salt Lake City days was ME’s (She Who Must Be Obeyed’s genuine, real-life initials) Beer Rye River Bread.

As soon as discussion started regarding another foray on to a prime regional river inevitably the first question asked was whether or not ME’s bread would be included in the deal. I can even distinctly recall on an occasion or two my companions went so far as to even request two loaves a day be provided by SWMBO.

Sure, they always wanted me to drive, and hell yes, they expected me to bring the boat and row at least 70% of the time. But what they really wanted was the bread.

She always bakes it in round, peasant loaves; a dark, heavy bread with a hint of hops and molasses, covered in caraway seeds (of course) and made even better with a handful of toasted walnuts and sliced salt-cured olives mixed in.

Easy enough that even I’ve learned to make it; knead it well and take care with the proofing and you’ll be toting your own river bread treasure this next season.

By the way, it makes the best damned ham sandwich on the face of the planet with Ed’s Honey Mustard Company Ham from last week.

1 bottle dark beer (Moose Drool is our go to for this one)
1/2 cup warmed molasses
2 tbs active dry yeast, dissolved in 1/4 cup warm water
2 tsp salt
3 cups medium rye flour
1 cup whole wheat flour
2 cups unbleached flour
2 tbs caraway seeds, divided
(Think about: 1/2 cup of either raisins, chopped and toasted walnuts, and/or sliced salt-cured olives)
Oil
Cornmeal
Melted butter

Mix it up. Combine the beer and molasses in a large bowl / mixer bowl. Add the dissolved yeast.

Now add the rest of the ingredients (except the oil, cornmeal and butter); mix only 1 tbs of the caraway seeds into the dough. Blend well.

Knead. Turn the dough onto a floured board and knead for 7 minutes or so; add more flour as needed if too sticky.

First proof. Dump the dough ball in an oil covered bowl and oil the top of the dough; cover and let rise in a warm place until doubled – about an hour.

Shape and second proof. Punch the dough down, turn onto floured board and cut in half. Shape into two oval loaves or rounds; using a serrated knife make a few diagonal slashes on each loaf. Place on cornmeal sprinkled parchment on a large cookie sheet. Cover and proof until doubled again, up to an hour.

Bake. Brush the tops with melted butter, sprinkle with the second tablespoon of caraway seeds and bake in a well preheated 400 degree oven for 30 minutes (roughly) until done.

Enjoy and beware the invitations to come.

Tags: Friday Feast

I’ll never be able to forget the first time I took a whiff and a taste of this ham.

Back a few years ago She Who Must Be Obeyed and I lived deep in the mass of humanity that is now the Salt Lake City metroplex.

Like most city dwellers we had a fairly tightly circumscribed territory that was our ‘home’ stomping ground; small children starting school kept a fairly persistent grip on our schedule. That said, we never missed a chance to beat the hell out of town to camp and fish in nearby eastern Idaho and southwestern Wyoming.

One particular long weekend we’d rendezvoused with Ed and some other fishers on the South Fork of the Snake in our favorite riverside campground. The fishers and I had made the run from Conant to Byington (roughly 25 river miles) that day and came back famished.

As we were heating our home-prepped spaghetti Ed whipped out a small Weber grill, quickly fired his hardwood charcoal, and proceeded to drive us all crazy with the most heavenly aroma of grilling ham steaks imaginable.

Back at home Ed had slathered a ham with the precursor to this outrageous mustard sauce (now Jake’s Sweet Mustard Sauce) and smoked it over hickory for a few hours. He then carved thick ham steaks right off the ham (3/4 inch or so) and was heating them over the hot coals and caramelizing on a new layer of sweet mustard goodness right under our noses.

It tasted even better than it sounds, though just about anything does on a long summer’s evening on the banks of a big Western river. It made probably the best damned sandwich I’ve ever had in my life on ME’s Beer Rye River Bread (recipe coming in a few weeks) the next day.

To this day he’s never confessed where he found the recipe, though at his age, he’s probably forgotten.

We’ve tweaked the sauce recipe a few times over the years, adding a bit of stone-ground mustard, toning down the sweet and throwing in a bit of heat – Jake has mastered the most current iteration and it’s a recipe you’ll be hanging on to.  We’ve taken to calling the creation Ed’s Honey Mustard Company Ham.

The addition of the honey slather is pure genius.

Try this one and you’ll never again look at ham again the same way. Neither will your guests.

Feeling really adventurous? Procure a raw ham, cure it at home and then smoke it slathered in this sauce.

Don’t forget to tip your hat to Ed when you smell that honey and mustard working their magic in the smoker.

Jake’s Sweet Mustard Sauce
3/4 cup prepared yellow mustard
3/4 cup stone ground mustard
1 and 1/2 cups dark brown sugar, packed
3/4 cup white vinegar
2 tbs ancho chili powder
2 tbs sweet paprika
2 tbs fresh ground black pepper
1 tbs kosher salt
2 tsp garlic powder

Ed’s Honey Mustard Company Ham
1 large (18-22 lb) pre-cured ham (cure your own if feeling adventurous and you have a week…)
2 cups Jake’s Sweet Mustard Sauce
1/2 to 1 cup honey

Make the Sweet Mustard Sauce. Mix all ingredients well in medium bowl, should be nice and creamy. Chill for 30 minutes before using.

Prep your ham. Rinse and pat dry; trim fat layer to no thinner than 3/8 inch all over ham. Score ham surface if you want to, we do it thinking it improves the penetration of that heavenly mustard sauce.

Sauce your ham. Rub a cub of the sweet mustard sauce into every nook and cranny, then paint the rest of the sauce over the entire ham in a nice even layer.

Smoke it low and slow. Understanding that everyone has their tried and trusted routine with their smoker – here’s ours: heat the smoker with hickory to a temperature of around 200 and smoke the ham for 2 hours. We often add a little peach, apple or pecan wood as well.

Honey time. Open the smoker and pour at least 1/2 cup of honey over the ham; now you’ll only need another hour.

Rest and Serve. Rest it for a least 20 minutes, then carve, serve and prepare to be worshipped. You’ll have just served up the best ham your family and guests have ever dared to even imagine.

Leftovers are even better; you’ll never make a better ham sandwich than with this ham.

Enjoy.

Tags: Friday Feast

Traditions are a funny thing.

Though admittedly our clan has a fair number of traditions that we more or less cling to with stogged fidelity, some traditions can begin to reek of routine.

And routine has crushed the heart and soul of many a fine man and woman.

So it was with a dumbstruck stare that She Who Must Be Obeyed eyed me after I announced several days ago I thought we should break from tradition this year and serve tamales and chili for Christmas dinner.

As a bit of background, we’re once again entertaining what could be shaping up to be a bizarrely diverse group of friends and fishers who couldn’t be with their own families for the holiday.

SWMBO was probably envisioning a meal of a traditional (there’s the ‘t’ word again) ham with all the trimmings, eaten at a beautifully set and decorated table, complete with fresh flowers, two expertly chosen wines, ruthlessly efficient wait staff and classical music playing softly in the background.

I deftly countered with the fact that this has been a brazenly non-traditional year for us, and that traditions, which are often just dull routines dressed up in their Sunday-go-to-meetin’ clothes, are simply meant to be broken now and again.

Her response...”Bazinga.”

While there are some fair to middlin’ tamales that you can order out there, the best of the best are the tamales you and the famdamly make yourselves. Here’s the recipe we’ve been making every year since the mid-90’s back in Salt Lake; you’ll not find a better one.

As for chili, everybody has their favorite; our go-to, genuine-real-deal chili is this one, for now and ever more to be known as Bazinga Chili.

For a high-brow company meal, have your butcher grind a nice cut (sirloin or tri-tip for us) into a large chili grind and pick up some fresh-made, well-spiced bulk sausage too. This recipe works incredibly well with brisket diced small.

This recipe looks like it uses almost an obscene amount of chili powder – it does, though most chili powder doesn’t really provide heat – it provides flavor (use a good chili powder). Try it once as the recipe is written and you’ll see what we mean. Just don’t spill any of this deep red elixir on anything white.

The touch of brown sugar also softens the bite of the red chile just enough to work a little magic.

Here’s to rocking the old tradition boat and launching a new one. Bazinga.

3 lb. london broil, tri-tip, chuck or sirloin ground into rough chili grind or cubed
8 ounces bulk sausage (spicy)
1 large sweet onion, chopped fine
2 tbs vegetable oil
2-4 cups beef broth
1 8-oz. can tomato sauce (Hunt’s by tradition)
1 can Rotel tomatoes
1 bottle robust beer
11 tbs commercial chili powder (Spices Etc or Gebhardt’s)
2 tsp garlic powder
1-3 tbs Tabasco sauce
1-2 tbs brown sugar
1 tbs ground cumin
Kosher salt to taste

Brown it up. Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium high heat. Brown the beef (probably in two batches or it will just steam); add to your favorite chili pot. Brown the sausage, breaking it up as you go, and add the onions when about halfway done; cook until just soft and the sausage is brown. Add to the chili pot.

Chili makings round one. To the chili pot add two cups of the beef broth, bring to slow simmer. Add the tomato sauce, Rotel tomatoes, beer, 6 tbs of the chili powder, garlic powder, 1 tbs of the brown sugar and 1 tbs of Tabasco. Simmer uncovered for an hour and half, stirring occasionally and adding more broth as needed to keep it fairly soupy.

Chili makings round two. Add the rest of the chili powder (yep, another five tablespoons), a tsp of salt and the cumin. Taste for sweetness – we like to have just the tiniest smidge of sweetness as an undercurrent to the heat and other flavors – we almost always end up using 2 tbs of brown sugar. Keep simmering.

Fine tune. After 30 minutes or so, taste for heat and salt. If your chili powder is wimpy you might end up adding even a bit more chili powder or Tabasco. Reduce or thin to desired consistency.

Serve it up. Typically we’d either be serving straight up,  over rice or chips with all the chili trimmings, though your tamales will taste like heaven smothered in it.

Enjoy.

Tags: Friday Feast

Bob almost always makes us think of what we’ve called the ‘greater family of fly fishers’ in posts past.

Back in February, when Bob sent in a killer Jambalaya recipe, thinking about the ‘greater family of fly fishers’ prompted this:

We’ve all met fisher folk on the river who could best be described as a prick, princess-bitch, asshat, dumbass or some other colorful epithet.  (Those are all unisex adjectives in our book by the way.)

Perhaps it doesn’t work this way in your world, but in our experience these folks are more likely to be wearing / carrying gear more worth more than my truck.  Which they don’t know how to use.  And they’re impatient, outlandishly tight-fisted and sunburn easily.

Thankfully the aforementioned are a striking minority among the ‘greater family’ of fly fishers.

Most of the fly fisher folk we’ve met over the years are guys and gals who respect your water, smile and wave, offer a beer and chat at the takeout or at lunch on the sandbar like a long lost friend.

They’ll share a fly box and a sandwich (watch yourself), tow your truck out of the mud, critique your cast, take your picture and tell a tall tale or two.

Half the time they might even be honest about what’s working and what water they’ve been fishing, though that might be pushing it.

Most of the ‘greater family’ of fly fisher folk don’t give a damn if you’re a high flyin’ corporate president or a greeter at Walbob’s.  The real issue is can you row a rock garden when flows are down and handle yourself when the wind’s gusting on the Missouri and the midges are coming off?

Though we’ve never met face to face, we’ve been now and again emailing back and forth with Bob for years and were pleased as punch to see his Thick and Hearty Minestrone Soup recipe plop into the inbox recently.

I asked Bob to send us a bit about himself and here’s what he offered -

I’ve been fly fishing for a good number of years, live & work in southeast Michigan, my home water is the Au Sable River, . . . and I can’t wait to get back out to Montana & Wyoming.

Bet you just about anything Bob would be one of those guys to offer you a beer or a cup of soup out of the thermos on a cold day. Bob, the beer’s on us next time you’re out in the neighborhood….

1-2 Tbsp vegetable or olive oil
¾  cup onion (chopped medium to fine)
¼  cup celery (chopped medium to fine)
½  cup carrots (chopped medium to fine)
1 (15.5 oz) can cannelloni beans
1 (14.5 oz) can diced tomatoes (Hunt’s Diced Tomatoes with Basil, Garlic & Oregano)
1 (9 oz) package frozen shredded spinach
1 Tbsp tomato paste
1½  cups sliced zucchini
32 oz chicken broth
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 Tbsp dried parsley
1 tsp Kosher salt
½ cup red wine
½  cup small pasta shells
½  cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese

Prep. Toss the frozen spinach into a pot of boiling water to thaw it while prepping the vegetables. Heat the oil in a heavy pot over medium heat.

Sauté. Add the onions, celery and carrots to the oil; sauté for several minutes until the vegetables brighten.

Soup round one. Add the beans, tomatoes, zucchini, garlic, drained spinach, stock, tomato paste, parsley and salt. Bring to a boil, reduce to a simmer and cover; cook 30-ish minutes until the vegetables are barely tender.

Soup round two. Add the wine and pasta, simmer for another 30 minutes.

Serve. Serve hot with freshly-grated Parmesan and a crunchy slab or two of garlic bread.

Enjoy.

Tags: Friday Feast

Fly fishing and beer go hand in hand.

One simply makes the other that much better.  We all have fond memories of relaxing with a cold brew as the light fades on the river after a great day fishing.  Craft beer is also part of the Montana (and Western) culture.  Ah, home sweet home.

Starting next week, we will be featuring a new series: Thirsty Thursday.  I’ll be highlighting some of our favorite beers and breweries from Montana and around.  Testing all that beer is a tough job, but someone has to do it.

To start things off, stay tuned over the next couple of weeks for ten question interviews with Madison River Brewing Company (Belgrade, Montana) and Big Sky Brewing (Missoula, Montana), two of my personal favorites.

Both Mark and I will be posting other adult beverage suggestions along the way.

We’ll be adding a Thirsty Thursday page (under the Friday Feast header link above) to the site and keeping a running list of beer and booze we’ve highlighted there for posterity and your future reference.

Tags: Thirsty Thursday

We’re rolling out a few new features and tweaks this morning for Chi Wulff; nothing earth shattering but these are all ideas that friends have been asking us to do for months (and maybe even years for one…).

People of Fly Fishing. Interviews with fly fishing notables are popping up all over the place these days. When we first started doing a few in the early spring of this year during the Montana Stream Access debate it was clear that folks enjoyed a more in-depth glance into the issue de jour or taking a peek into the mind of a fly fishing pro.

We’ve continued doing an interview or two per month since late July and have added a link in the header bar to a new People of Fly Fishing page where we’ll keep a running list of all the interviews we’ve done to date.

There will soon be two new collections of folks we’ll be interviewing. Jess of Fire Girl Photography will be interviewing notable fly fishing and outdoor photographers and videographers, while Jake will be interviewing folks as part of a new feature we’re adding to the site – Thirsty Thursday (more below).

The Friday Feast. We had no idea how popular the Friday Feast might become when we started posting recipes on the now vanquished Best Fly Fishing Yellowstone in the summer of 2007.

Folks have been asking us to do two things with the Friday Feast almost from the get go.

One, post an index of recipes so you don’t have to fish around on the site to find a recipe – it’s now up and running as of this morning. There’s a new Friday Feast link in the header bar above with the Recipe Index link one of the drop downs.

Two, folks have been asking us to produce a cook book / recipe collection. The project is in process as of Monday of this week; we’re playing with the idea of an ebook with videos versus dead tree version (favored by She Who Must Be Obeyed). It’ll be a few months.

Thirsty Thursday. Jake will be adding a new series to the site covering primarily artisanal beers though there’ll surely be the occasional mixer or wine post thrown in. He already has interviews lined up with several of our favorite local Montana brewmeisters and will leave no good local brew undiscovered. Suggestions are welcome.

CW Swag. After years of claiming we were working on it – we’re now actually working on it with a nifty shirt company called ProNaked. Shirts, hats and decals are in the works.

Other Stuff. We’ve reshuffled the top navigation bar and will be redoing our links page (long overdue) soon.

Tags: Chi Wulff

Evil humors have been floating around Camp Chi Wulff the past 1o days or so.

She Who Must Be Obeyed (SWMBO) and I have both been wrestling with a persistent bronchitis / flu. Damn it.

While I’ve never personally noticed that I snore (despite the insistence to the contrary of some in the household over the past few years), while ill SWMBO has been snoring like a giant timber saw cleaving redwoods every single second that she’s sleeping.

Blinds have been ripped from the windows and pictures from the walls; two pillows and a small kitten have yet to be recovered.

Just the mere mention of said snoring phenomenon to She Who Must Be Obeyed invoked a level of disdain and steely-eyed defiance that I’ve not experienced since leaving her alone with two diapered toddlers in an un-airconditioned SLC house during the heat wave of the century a few years ago.

(In my defense, the AC had broken and a new and much improved replacement ordered…..)

The fact that my comrades and I were headed to Craig for five days of float fishing the Missouri didn’t help at the time. (Tip for young fly fishing husbands / fathers – always insist the fishing, weather, food and your comrades suck when away on this sort of trip.)

Peace and a semblance of genuine health has been restored around the household of late by proffering bowls of this awe-(and forgiveness)-inspiring Lamb and Black Bean Chili. This ain’t your mama’s same-ole, Tex-mex style chile; the lamb, aromatics and spices put a whole new spin on things.  

And if you’re part of the chile gestapo who’s itching to blather on about real chile not having beans – bugger off. Better yet, try this one just once and tell me it’s not a great recipe.  Then bugger off.

If you’re using this excellent and powerful dish to restore peace with significant others in your world, the Cilantro pesto is a must. Email if you don’t have / can’t find a nifty sounding recipe for it.

1/4 cup olive oil
1 large onion, diced medium
2 celery stalks, diced medium
2 medium carrots, diced medium
2 tbs fresh garlic, chopped fine
1-2 tsp chile pequin (red chile flakes)
1 tsp fresh basil, chopped
1 tsp fresh oregano, chopped
1/2 tsp (generous) thyme, dried
2 tsp cumin (ground)
1 tbs ancho chile powder
2 cups chicken stock
2 cups black beans, presoaked for 24 hours, rinsed and drained
4 cups (maybe more) water
2/3 pound lamb shoulder, coarsely ground, browned and drained

Make it even better: sour cream, cilantro pesto, more chile pequin

Sauté and spice it. Heat the olive oil in a medium stockpot over medium high heat. Add the onion, celery and carrots; sauté stirring now and again until the onion is soft and translucent (5 minutes or so).

Now add the garlic, chile pequin, basil, oregano, thyme, cumin, ancho chile powder and chicken stock. Mix well, bring to a boil, then reduce and simmer (rolling) until the liquid is reduced to roughly a cup.

Bean it. Add the beans and water, stir well. Bring to a boil, reduce to a simmer and cook for roughly four hours. You’ll need to add more water along the way; keep an eye on it as it gets closer. When the beans are done to your satisfaction, pull 1/3 to 1/2 of ‘em out and puree to a rough puree and pour back into the pot.

Lamb it. Brown and drain the lamb, stir it into the pot. Season to taste with kosher salt and heat through.

Serve it. Ladle into bowls and to with dollops of sour cream and Cilantro pesto; sprinkle a bit more chile pequin on. Serve in an obsequious manner.

You’ll be feeling much better (or out of trouble) in no time.

Enjoy.

Tags: Friday Feast

Last Friday’s Friday Feast (Bloody Mary’s Pork Medallions) spawned a flood of emails asking for our Bloody Mary mix recipe.

A confession is in order right up front – none of us are genuine mixologists. Most of us in fact share the misguided view that good libations are there to make great food taste better. So shoot me.

You’ve very well likely got a Blood Mary recipe that you like better, though here are two that have risen to the top of the Bloody Mary pool for us. Long time Chi Wulff friends know that we have a penchant for spicy foods with a southwestern flair – if you lean that way then try the Southwestern Bloody Mary mix (it’s outrageously good with the Pork Medallions from Friday).

Fresh ingredients, including / particularly the fresh squeezed lime / lemon, make all the different for these……

“Traditional” Bloody Mary
2 cups tomato juice
1 tbs Worcestershire sauce
1 tbs tabasco
1 tbs fresh squeezed lime juice
1/4 tsp horseradish
1/2 tsp dill
1/4 tsp celery salt
1/2 tsp black pepper, fine ground
Vodka per your tastes

Southwestern Bloody Mary
3 cups tomato (or vegetable) juice
2 tbs fresh lemon juice
1.5 tbs minced fresh cilantro
1 tbs Worcestershire sauce
1-2 tsp finely minced canned chipotle chilies (check their heat)
1 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp sugar
Vodka per your tastes

Enjoy.

Tags: Friday Feast

Mention the moniker “Bloody Mary” and a host of images come to mind.

Staid historians might think of Queen Mary I. Other misguided souls might stand before their mirror chanting her name three times, attempting to invoke reality from English folklore.

Most envision the renowned cocktail – possessive of supposed healing powers, packed with nutritious lycopenes and long-standing brunch staple.

Me, I think of Andy, the Howard Hughesque character who lived in the little trailer next door to my grandparents beach house on the Matagorda River.

Andy was a grizzled old man, stooped with age, who had somehow befriended my Paw-Paw decades before. Andy was the sole survivor of a wealthy southern family in the nearby town; he let the family mansion (classic three story, white wooden clapboard, stately southern mansion with the huge columns and porch) drift into disrepair.

Andy spent very little time in town, preferring to spend the bulk of his days huddled in the 12 foot camping trailer that was his “camp”; he was a defacto family member, fair fisherman and near constant fixture during our summer visits.

Andy’s most memorable trait was this: he was never – and I mean never ever – without what he called his “poor man’s Bloody Mary” in hand (a vodka laced can of V8, the big one). No matter if he was eating a 5 am pre-fishing breakfast with us or relaxing on the screened in porch late in the evening as it cooled, that sweating can of V8 was always within easy reach. He was also one of the most prodigious users of Tabasco that I’ve ever seen.

Andy would have no doubt approved of this meal – Bloody Mary’s Pork Medallions – and in his honor we’d probably even use V8 in a real pinch for the Bloody Mary mix, though you can do a heap better with your own special version, I’m sure.

With National Bloody Mary Day (1 January) fast approaching this is a great recipe to tuck in your files and serve up on a cool, blustery day.

3 large eggs
1/3 cup half and half
3 lbs pork tenderloin, cut into 15-18 medallions and butterflied
2/3 cup flour
1 tsp cayenne
3 cups fine dried bread crumbs
Clarified butter or olive oil as needed
Thinly sliced celery and grated carrot for garnish

Your best homemade bloody Mary recipe, heated and reduced by a third. (Email for a killer recipe).

Prep work. Whisk the eggs and half and half together in a small bowl. Mix the cayenne and flour together and pour the bread crumbs onto a plate.

Bread the pork. One at a time, dip the pork medallions into the flour (shake off the excess), then into the egg wash, then dredge in the bread crumbs.

Skillet time. Heat your large heavy skillet (cast iron optimal) for several minutes over medium high heat. Heat the clarified butter (won’t burn easily) or olive oil until hot and then sauté the medallions for roughly three minutes per side until the crust is golden brown, they’re just pink in the middle and firm. Drain. (Pink in the middle means fork tender medallions).

Plate. Place the medallions on each serving place and pour over a generous splash of your heated bloody mary mix. Garnish as desired and serve immediately.

This will serve three ravenous fly fishers or six folks eating as conventional humans.

Enjoy.

Tags: Friday Feast

Back a few years ago, when the family was living up in the Flathead north of Kalispell, I met a guy nicknamed Bib who lived in a nearby community.

Bib wanted to be a horseman and a welder when he grew up; unfortunately a wayward youth and some very poor decision making led him down the path to becoming an ENT (ear, nose and throat physician), in truth a damned good one.

He forever had a project pony or two that he was working with and dragging around in a beat up two horse trailer pulled by his dilapidated flatbed pickup with the rusty welder-generator unit in back. And yes, he was almost always wearing his trademark bib overalls, even now and again in the hospital.

He was unceasingly late to meetings, swore like a true cowboy and earned his weathered Montana patina the hard way – cutting hay under the endless summer skies and feeding stock year round no matter how cold the wind was blowing.

Of course he could bullshit the feathers off a chicken too.

Bib fly fished a bit though lacked the patience to fish well when things were slow; he’d get fidgety and demand to row, though he’d inevitably get distracted by something and run the boat under a sweeper or right down the lane we’d be trying to fish.

Bib had done part of his training at the infamous Charity Hospital in New Orleans, way back in the day before LSU took it over, and while no doubt he was truly a fish out of water in that setting, he loved his time ‘on the bayou’.

It was there that he learned to make a tried and true rue-based gumbo and he always swore that a roasted turkey carcass made the best gumbo broth. He’d even get friends to save turkey bones for him and he’d round them up, spray with a little olive oil and roast in a 325 degree oven for an hour or so until they were a rich, dark brown. Then into the stock pot they’d go….

He’d then serve his Roasted Turkey Bone Gumbo at a party during the holidays out in his barn; it was a grand time.

(I can hear the scoffs and snickers from the city crowd about folks still having parties in the barn. Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it. And leave your freakin’ Italian driving moccasins at home.)

If Bib were standing looking over your shoulder as you make this pot of gumbo goodness, he’d pester you to cook the rue ‘till it’s a rich, chocolaty brown. Watch it like a hawk at the end and keep stirring….’

3/4 cup vegetable oil
3/4 cup flour
2 cups chopped onions
1 cup chopped green bell pepper
1 cup chopped celery
2 garlic cloves, chopped fine
1 tsp kosher salt
1 tsp cayenne
1 tsp ancho chile powder
1/2 lb good smoked andouille sausage, chopped
2 quarts fresh turkey broth made with roasted turkey carcass
2 cups chopped turkey, white and dark meat
4 tbs chopped parsley
4 tbs chopped green onions

Make the roux. Mix the oil and flour well in a large cast-iron pot or enameled cast-iron dutch oven. Set over medium heat and stir slowly and continuously for 20 to 25 minutes until the roux is dark brown (think a nice chocolate color here).

Add the holy trinity of cajun cooking. Stir in the chopped onions, green bell pepper, celery and garlic; keep stirring over medium heat until soft (5 to 7 minutes). Add the sausage and cook for another 4 or 5 minutes, stirring frequently. Add the broth, salt, cayenne and ancho powder, mix well, bring to a boil, then simmer uncovered for an hour.

Use up some leftover turkey. Add the turkey meat, stir well, and simmer another 20 minutes. Now add the parsley and green onions.

Serve it up. Serve hot and steaming over rice. Bib always added a little gumbo file at the table, but you’ll never miss it if you don’t have a bottle.

Enjoy.

Tags: Friday Feast