Backyard: Blogging (a How-to Guide)

In recognition of yet-another-local-lockdown due to the ongoing pandemic, I'm doing a week of feature blog posts about living in the backyard. From May 10th through 16th, my posts will be themed around life outdoors but as close to home as possible, a few steps out the back door.

As spring approaches, and the snow melts into a nurturing moisture that slowly starts to restore the greens to the grass and the leaves to the trees in my little suburban backyard, I find myself looking for excuses to sit in the weak spring sunshine and do those activities I would have just weeks before found a quiet corner of the house to get done.

Daily blogging is not incompatible with an outdoor lifestyle, but it does take some special preparation to help ensure its success.

I don’t know about you, but I write best when I’m comfortable. A cushioned seat or a soft-bottomed chair of some kind. A flat level surface with enough space for my tools (see the first item) and a cup of coffee. It’s got to be out of the wind and sun, and the last thing I want is to have bugs swarming around my head or an angry wasp buzzing at my screen. I like a view of the yard, particularly when the birds are swooping in and out of the feeders I have set up. And so long as she behaves herself, the dog is happiest when she can sniff around or find a place nearby to curl up and enjoy the tippity-tap of the keyboard.

Some tips to successfully blogging outdoors:

Setting the Tools

Writing is a personal act and one that often involves a favourite keyboard, a certain pen & paper combination, or just the right screen font. I myself am fussy about how I write. I admittedly spend too much money on certain styles of keyboards that feel just the right way under my fingers. When I’m in the flow of writing, the last thing I want is to be distracted by an unfamiliar tool. Personally, I’ve taken particular care to set up my writing tools around these comforts and have multiple sets: one that is portable as well as a set that is more grounded at my desk. I have the same chiclet-style keyboard in the wired (desktop) and wireless (tablet) model for the precise reason that I sometimes like to write outdoors (or in the olden, pre-pandemic days, at a café in …gasp …public.) In short, backyard blogging starts with some investment in having a device or method that is capable of not just working, but working for you, in said backyard.

Connecting Disconnected

And now that you have a computer, tablet, or some other writing device set up in a comfortable position outside, you probably need to link it up to the internet. Of course there is always the option of writing your post offline in a text editor and uploading later when you are back in the house or can push it to your blog platform in one effort. A good wireless internet setup that reaches out into a moderate sized backyard in not an expensive investment these days. Nor is tethering your device to a wifi hotspot supplied by your phone a thing that is going to drain most moderately-sized cell phone data packages. Provided you’re not uploading dozens of photos or expecting to share a full video, bringing the internet to your backyard should be a practical and straightforward way to extend your writing space into your green space.

Undistracting

Wind. Bugs. Varying sunlight. The birds fluttering to and fro. The honks of a car horn on the street. A siren passing by on the main road a few blocks away. A neighbour calling his dog. I sit in virtual silence, or listening to music, when I work inside. In my suburban backyard, as much as I revel in the life of the neighbourhood, distraction becomes a real thing when I’m trying to put my fingers onto that keyboard and focus on the words. On sunny mornings the sun comes up past the neighbours house in just the right way that a glare blots out any hope of visibility on my tablet screen. If I sit my chair in just the right angle it blocks most of that light, but it is distracting nonetheless. A pair of headphones and some music is a way to block it out if I need to, but mostly blogging outside means tweaking the way you work to work well with the distractions in the outside space, air, noise, and life.

Feeding the Inspiration

Finally, when the space is just right, the tools are working great, the bugs are shooed away, and the glare of the sun is not obscuring the screen, I find it never feels quite right to sit outside in the yard without a beverage and maybe a snack of some kind. In the mornings I write with a hot cup of coffee and a bit of sourdough toast. In the evenings, after a day of work fuels my after-hours wordiness, a cold beer or a finger of whiskey can often pry loose that tangled inspiration. Maybe you like a glass of wine or a glass of icy cold soda. Maybe you nibble at a snack of some kind, pop yourself some popcorn or crinkle open a bag of potato chips. Backyard blogging, if nothing else, feels like permission to enjoy the act a little more, and to feed your inspiration with the space, the fresh air, and something more literal to sip on. Or maybe it’s just me.

On Streaks and Inevitable Solo Runs

It’s unlikely that you’ve been following any of the specific news emerging from my little corner of the world, but as of midnight tonight we go into yet another wave of increased pandemic restrictions.

My region is considered one of the world’s COVID hotspots because … um, human stubbornness.

I had spent last week trying to rebuild some of the stamina I’d lost over the last fourteen months.

I find when the yardstick by which I measure these things, my ability to keep up with my running crewmates, measures up short there are a couple efforts I can make to quantitatively improve.

One of those efforts is a running streak: run every day for a set number of days. Daily running pushes the body in mysterious ways to react and adapt, and somewhere in between burning oneself out and a string of epic training runs there is a gradual increase in endurance.

So I ran a streak last week.

I ran seven days in a row, running every day no matter the weather or how I was feeling, and somewhere between exhausted burnout and that epic feeling of accomplishing something, I think I moved my stamina a wee bit.

Tho those runs were mostly solo. Alone. Because not everyone wants to run a streak.

This morning I had that chance to again compare myself to my yardstick as the crew and I (all vaccinated) ran a casual ten kilometers through the river valley. Just five of us. Trails. Sunshine. Fresh air. And a hot coffee at the end.

Yet like a finish line, it is the end … at least for a few more weeks.

No more meet ups.

No more group runs.

No more running crew.

That streak training improved my speed but what I think I might have really been training for was solo running again, this time for three weeks or until this third wave washes by and we can run together again.

Deep breath. Here we go.

Banoffee Swirl Ice Cream

Tales from the Cast Iron Guy Creamery

If you, like me, avoid those recipe blogs that spend the first fifteen pages of text explaining the backstory of the recipe, then I have a treat for you… merely two paragraphs, a photo, and of course a delicious ice cream recipe to follow.

Our travel-food story goes something like this: After obsessing over the UK holiday film Love, Actually and specifically that scene where Keira Knightly’s character shows up with a slice of pie for her husband’s buddy, my wife became slightly obsessed with finding her own slice of banoffee pie when we visited the UK in 2006. It was darn good. And it turns out no one in Canada bothers to consistently sell it. Anywhere. Instead we learned how to make banoffee pie — actually a fairly simple pie consisting of a graham crust, dulce de leche, bananas, whipped cream, and a baker’s selection of sprinkled garnish. Then last year, after procuring ourselves an ice cream maker attachment for the stand mixer, I stumbled on the idea of adapting the banoffee pie recipe into a banoffee ice cream recipe… an effort I undertook for the third time earlier this week:

Recipe

500 ml heavy cream 
250 ml full fat milk 
160 ml white sugar
2 ml  salt 
6 egg yolks, separated 
1 ripe banana
5 ml vanilla 
75 g coarsely crumbled graham crackers
160 ml dulce de leche

In a saucepan I combined the cream, milk, salt and sugar and heated to about 125F or until the sugar dissolved completely.

Meanwhile, I separated the eggs from their yokes and combined the yokes with the banana which I’d mashed as smoothly as I could with a small whisk. I tempered the egg/banana slurry with the hot cream mix. This meant scooping and drizzling a few measuring cups full of hot cream mixture into the egg mixture and stirring furiously to bring the temperature up in the eggs while avoiding making the contents of banana breakfast burrito…. in other words, avoiding scrambling the eggs.

Then, when things were up to temp, I combined the two mixes fully, heating and pasturizing the custard base at about 170F in the saucepan.

This needed to cool. I filtered the whole thing through a fine wire mesh seive into a juice jug. There was a couple tablespoons worth of banana pulp that didn’t filter, but the flavour of the bananas was already infused into base so I just discarded that pulp and moved on.

Four to six hours in the fridge likely would have been long enough, but I find I get best results in my particular ice cream churn with an overnight chill. In the morning I stirred the custard mix again and added the vanilla before firing up the ice cream maker attachment for my stand mixer.

I am aware that making dulce de leche at home is possible. From what I understand it involves carmelizing (in a sealed can) sweetened condensed milk in an effort if done wrong can result in explosive-level pressurization of said can. Fortunately, I’m able to buy ready-to-serve dulce de leche from the supermarket, so I got that ready by the far less dangerous action of peeling the lid off the can.

I also took this opportunity to crumble the graham crackers up in a bowl.

The ice cream churn did it’s thing for about twenty minutes after which I added the cracker crumbles to the mixer. This combined for another minute or so.

The final stage, in a chilled bowl, was to “swirl” in the dulce de leche. A scoop of ice cream into the container followed by a drizzle of the sauce followed by another scoop of ice cream… and so on until everything was layered together and ready for the freezer.

The result of all this work is a delicious banana ice cream swirled with the cool caramel flavour of dulce de leche and provided a wee crunch by the graham crackers… or as close to a banoffee pie as I can get in ice cream form. And as much as I like pie, ice cream is darned amazing, too.

a’la plancha

It’s Friday afternoon and it turns out that you really can learn something new every day. For example, while I was reading a new e-book that I had downloaded I also learned a new cast iron word.

In fact, last night I was sitting in the truck waiting for my daughter to finish her dancing class for the night and was skimming through a PDF of The Backyard Fire Cookbook by Linda Ly (which you can pick up for a few bucks in this month’s Humble Bundle by the way… tho only if you’re reading this in May 2021. No affiliation.)

The author’s introduction noted that (in her opinion) cooking over a campfire required three foundational pieces of cast iron: a dutch oven, a big pan, and a plancha.

Pause.

I’ll admit. That was a new word for me: plancha.

So, of course, I temporarily closed the PDF, swiped open a browser window, and Google’d it.

… to which a confusing selection of advertisements for griddles appeared on my screen.

Um.

As it turns out the English translation for what turns out to be the Spanish word plancha is iron.

More specifically, and digging through more sites helped me discover this, the word plancha in reference to a cooking tool is a flat, iron griddle with shallow sides.

Or, a big flat hunk of cast iron… and what I would have up until last night called a griddle.

Even Google knew better.

Not that griddle is a great word. I have a round griddle. I also have reversible griddle with grooves on one side and a flat smooth pancake-friendly surface on the other. I’ve a got a small griddle I put in my barbecue. And I even have an electric griddle (which I will mention as little as possible going forward.) Lots of griddles that have multiple different meanings even in my own kitchen.

Plancha may be a new word for me, but it suits the specificity of the kind of griddle-like pan I tend to prefer: an oblong, squarish piece of flat iron that has a bit of a lip to keep the food from slipping off but is otherwise a big broad cooking surface.

So. Friday afternoon and I have a new word to help me talk about one of my favourite topics. How’s your week going?