15 minute read
Do the Pennsylvania Wild
Courtesy Kerry Gyekis
Do the Pennsylvania Wild A Lifelong Social Distancer Shares Some Secrets By Kerry Gyekis
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In some ways I am reluctant to say much about what we are doing to stay sane (and healthy) in this extremely crazy time of the virus. It is like going back to San Francisco after you’ve struck gold in 1849 and telling the populace of your good luck. However, considering what we are faced with as a nation and as a people, I think I better fess up.
OK…for most of my life, probably from my young teenage years, I’ve realized that walking in the woods (sometimes just for hours and sometimes for days) helped and even cured a lot of things that I had been worried about. Suffice it to say that I’ve been practicing social distancing for approximately sixty-four years. [That’s Kerry above, practicing what he preaches.] Ask my wife. That is not an exaggeration.
I do it once almost every day, and my other half and I do it several times a week, usually. We do it on local trails and in local forests with or without trails. We do it to find wildflowers and waterfalls and just to do it. I do it in rain and snow, in warm and cold, and early rather than late as a forester. I love to do it in a fresh snow as it becomes a book of all the creatures (including me) that are moving through it. Just these past few weeks in probably the last fresh snow on a cold morning, I saw a ball of fur seemingly moving in the air just up the hill from me. When I got to where it was, I realized it was a coyote that had been coming right at me on a dead run. I could see the skid marks
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We Can’t Socialize, but We Have Chocolate A Sweet Reason For Hope
By Cornelius O’Donnell
Let me take you back a bit to those glorious days of the ’50s (gulp) when my father would call out “Route 32” or “Dutcher’s” and, no matter where the four of us kids were—immersed in a picture puzzle, in the sand box, nose in a book, or perhaps Hopalong Cassidy on the tube—we’d come running and jump in the car. Why? Because we knew that a call to either place meant ice cream and, most emphatically, chocolateice cream.
I should explain: Route 32 meant a short ride to a gas station on that route in Glenmont, just south of Albany. But we weren’t going for gas, it was the handpacked chocolate ice cream. Dad insisted on it, finding “too much air” in the cartons. It was fascinating to watch the cardboard container placed inside the metal jacket, the ice cream scoop removed from its water bowl, and then the deep brown ice cream loaded in the container. (I had to ignore this “gas-jockey’s” hands still stained from the last lube.) Did we get a pint or half gallon from the large drum of ice cream? I can’t remember. All I recall is the ride home and the anticipation of the reward in the bowls Mom had waiting for us. (Amazing fact, at least to us kids: Mom didn’t like ice cream. We found this so unusual my youngest brother wanted to take her to show and tell at school.)
Dutcher’s was a dairy store on the road from Voorheesville to Route 20 that featured homemade ice cream and, all summer, had a constant flow of customers. This was a place that gave you an enormous quantity of the creamy sweet stuff (it almost filled a milk-shake container), and then there was the chocolate syrup and the peanuts or walnut pieces sprinkled over the clouds of whipped cream. Any readers remember this? This was a choc-a-holic’s heaven, although I must admit I loved the strawberry version with the icy bits of strawberries.
But I’ve also enjoyed chocolate desserts, as much for the shouts of (mostly) joy when I present one at the conclusion of a meal as for the eating of it. Here are a few of my favorite ways to use chocolate.
Chocolate Upside-Down Pudding
I found this gem in the Pyrex Prize Recipes cookbook, circa 1953, that I treasure. And this is the headnote above the recipe: “This is like a rich chocolate cake with a chocolate sauce underneath. It is delicious served slightly warm with whipped cream.” And it is. The quantity of spots on the book’s page says it all.
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. For the cake: ¾ c. granulated sugar 1¼ c. sifted cake flour 2 tsp. baking powder 1 tsp. salt 2 Tbsp. unsalted butter 1 square (1 oz.) unsweetened chocolate ½ c. regular milk 1 tsp. real vanilla extract ½ c. chopped pecans or walnuts For the topping: ½ c. granulated sugar ½ c. brown sugar, well-packed 2 Tbsp. cocoa 1 c. boiling water
Sift together the ¾ c. granulated sugar, the flour, baking powder, and salt. I just put it through a hand-held sifter. Melt together the butter and the chocolate; mix this with
the milk and vanilla. Stir this into the flour mixture with a rubber spatula and stir in the nuts. Pour into a well-greased 1½-quart Pyrex round cake dish.
For the topping: Mix together the granulated sugar, the brown sugar, and the cocoa, and spread this on top of the batter. Pour the boiling water over all. Bake in the preheated oven for about 1 hour. This serves 6 to 8. And, since I am my father’s son, I’d serve this with a bit of chocolate ice cream and whipped cream. Serve a salad as the main course. This dessert is rich as Rockefeller.
Chocolate Mousse
There seem to be as many mousse recipes as there are moose in the woods. No matter, this is an old favorite (again, spots) from a boxed set of recipes put together ages ago by Corning Hospital’s Chapter P. I’ve made so many goodies from this collection of index cards I can only wish someone would reprint it. It’s great to go through these and remember the women who submitted “their best.”
Jane Hubben’s Chocolate Mousse
1 lb. sweet chocolate ½ c. granulated sugar ¼ c. brandy, bourbon, or rum ¼ c. water 10 egg yolks 1 Tbsp. vanilla 10 egg whites ¼ tsp. cream of tartar
Melt together the chocolate, sugar, spirit of choice, and water. (Try a big Pyrex bowl in the microwave. It should take about 3 to 4 minutes on high. Note that in microwave cooking, chocolate holds its shape but may be softly melted.) Let cool. Beat together (I use a whisk) the egg yolks and vanilla. Then add the chocolate mixture. In another bowl, using a hand mixer or a stand mixer, beat the egg whites and cream of tartar until stiff peaks form. Then fold the two mixtures together and transfer to a decorative bowl, cover with plastic wrap or foil, and chill. You can garnish with shaved chocolate curls and whipped cream. This serves 6 to 8.
Chocolate Rum Coffee
Carol Pulaski was among the Chapter P contributors, and her recipe would be just the ticket to end a meal when you are ready to flip out. Here’s dessert in a flash.
For each serving place the following in a mug (time to use your collection):
Strong coffee, regular or decaf 1 Tbsp. chocolate syrup 1 oz. rum 1 large (heaping?) tbsp. chocolate or vanilla ice cream
Heat mug. Fill three-fourths full with hot coffee. Stir in chocolate and then stir in rum. Top with ice cream and serve immediately.
Dad would be so proud of me if I served any one of these desserts.
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of about four feet when he first saw me and had then turned and run out at an acute angle away from me. I began following his back trail, still wondering why he was traveling so fast toward me. I heard hounds in the distance and then hounds coming right past me, ignoring me as they chased the coyote and then several minutes later reversing themselves, coming back and heading out on the same angle the coyote had taken. It was a Roadrunner episode!
Several months ago I was hunting in an obscure place on the West Rim of the canyon. I call it hunting—really, it is hiking with a gun or a bow or a crossbow. I sneak along trails, and, to be quite honest, it is, perhaps, the original “social distancing.” I never called it that before this national crisis we find ourselves in now, but that is essentially what it is. It is to be alone and quiet, apart from others. Hunting is just one of my excuses (I should say one of my many excuses). I escaped church for many years as a kid by running a trapline. My mom knew I had to check those traps. In those trapping days, I tended to do it where there weren’t people. Really, it was “social distancing.”
But, back to hiking on the West Rim. I found something which was pretty interesting and was unsure whether it was natural or perhaps ancient man’s design. I sent a picture of it off to the anthropology and geology departments at Penn State University and got this back: “most likely a trace fossil of a burrowing sea creature,” an “arthophycus from Silurian sandstones some 420 to 440 million years ago that underlie many of our ridges in northcentral Pa.”
We live in an extraordinary area with canyons, mountains, streams, forests, and miles of trails. There are many ways to utilize this bounty. Whether you are a hiker, biker, hunter, fisherman, runner, walker, crawler, drawer, photographer, or even rider, it is there, that great wilderness.
I realize, up to this point, I’ve treated our present situation rather lightly in this writing. I do get it, and have thought about it a lot. I’ve been comparing it to other experiences in my life and the life of everyone who is alive today, here. I spent two years in the Asian jungles of the ’60s as a Peace Corps forester, with aborigines, Malays, Gurkhas, and guns. I did basically sneak into South Vietnam during that time, and did hitch rides on Air America (C.I.A.) flights all around the Delta, and did see the war up-front rather brutally. That was, thinking back about it, pretty scary…and crazy. At the time I was bullet-proof (in my own mind), but that was a personal experience.
When I came back to the U.S., I found that many Americans were not nearly as affected by it as I was. Many were able to isolate themselves from what our troops and the Vietnamese were experiencing.
This situation now is different. The virus is affecting everyone even if we wish it were not. Aside from it being very scary for Americans, I believe it is already hard for many members of our society to deal with just living on a daily basis.
That brings me back to the walking in the woods part. It works!
get the glasses!
The store had messages on their hold system. The voice was pleasant enough, though I pegged it as non-professional. Probably the owner or an employee.
“Thank you for calling. We will be right with you. We have an extensive collection of wine and liquors, including erotic liquors…” the chirpy voice informed me.
Really? My imagination galloped out of its crate before I could say “fill up my belly button!” and I had to lasso it back in before the gentleman returned. We actually transacted my order. I gave him money. He promised to deliver the champagne that afternoon. I was nearly delirious and decided to repay him by repeating what I had had heard on his hold system.
The moment I said “erotic liquors” you could hear his face fall off in pieces. I told him I didn’t think that was correct, but if it was, “I’d love to see the room you keep it in.” He explained that his sister had recorded the messages for him. He would tend to that right away. He thanked me earnestly.
I hung up triumphantly. A good deed done and the aggravation was just the price of friendship. And then… nothing. No acknowledgement from Mark. This is a person who says thank you, so I knew this fragile project had derailed yet again. Finally, I message him and ask if he got a delivery today. “No, why?” Yeah, I could have told you that was coming. Mark set to searching his building and found a bottle of champagne on the desk of a colleague. Thinking the chances of a coincidence were thin, he asked her about it. She had no idea who had sent it, but the receptionist was sure the delivery person had given her name.
Bottle sent to: Mark Webster. Bottle delivered to: Lisa Hawayek.
Well, I can see how that could have happened. Easy mistake. Sure.
Mark’s birthday is in October. If I start now, I might be able to send him a beer.
Maggie Barnes has won several IRMAs and Keystone Press Awards. She lives in Waverly, New York.
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