Great Moments in Blather: fried varmint politics, cool exploding squirrels: what else has this man eaten?

Gov. Mike Huckabee hit the deck running in 2008 and became a very credible candidate from the religious right giving McCain his most challenging race. Nearly humanoid in his manner, he's actually got a sense of humor and plays bass. (Think Sarah Palin with an undergraduate degree). Huckabee's political future ended abruptly when it was revealed he'd pardoned cop killer Maurice Clemmons years before the tragic 2009 slayings of 4 police officers in Lakewood, WA. (He's nicely situated as a Fox News teevee star, although it's rumored he'll launch a 2012 campaign as an environmentalist under the name, "Mike Fuckatree.")

We kid Mike Huckabee, and it started with this post January 17, 2008:

Gov. Mike Huckabee hit the deck running in 2008 and became a very credible candidate from the religious right giving McCain his most challenging race. Nearly humanoid in his manner, he's actually got a sense of humor and plays bass. (Think Sarah Palin with an undergraduate degree). Huckabee's political future ended abruptly when it was revealed he'd pardoned cop killer Maurice Clemmons years before the tragic 2009 slayings of 4 police officers in Lakewood, WA. (He's nicely situated as a Fox News teevee star, although it's rumored he'll launch a 2012 campaign as an environmentalist under the name, "Mike Fuckatree.")

We kid Mike Huckabee, and it started with this post January 17, 2008:

We gotta say it: Mike Huck-A-Bee is the real deal.

If it weren't that he was a damn evangelical Republican, and against everything we hold dear, we'd love to support him.

Or at least have a beer with him (despite that neither of us drinks alcohol).

Turns out he's squirrelly in a way that the slinky-sleek mush mouth Mitt Romney could never imagine.

Huck-A-Bee told Joe Scarborough today: "When I was in college, we used to take a popcorn popper, because that was the only thing they would let us use in the dorm, and we would fry squirrels ... in the dorm room."

As Dave Boze (KVI m-f, 3-6p) took callers on this subject this afternoon, memories of our dorm room culinary adventures came, er, flooding back...

In our WWSC (now WWU) dorm, we cooked spaghetti and noodle soup in the popcorn popper and made Hollandaise, flapped tortillas, and seared burgers on the hot plate. In Bellingham, a poultry store on Railroad Avenue sold chicken tails -- the part that goes through the fence last -- for 10 cents a pound. Two bits bought a dinner party, and every night was a party.

We cooked-up chicken butts for weeks on end. And there was no end to the innovation: Chicken Butt Ragout-la-la; Chicken Butt Charlie (after Charlie Manson); Chicken-fried Chicken butt; Cassoulet de Chicken Butt; Chicken Butt Tuna Casserole; Chicken Butt à la mode de Caen. (Top Ramen in those days was not for students; it was exotic, very expensive, and only consumed by people like Aristotle Onassis at restaurants like "21").

But when we put the Chow Yuck left over from the night before in our electric percolator, plugged it in and left for the weekend, we got kicked out of the dorm. It was an important turning point in our academic lives for other reasons we won't go into here, but an acrid smell reminiscent of the burning of Shanghai lingered for many years.

Sadly, that turned out to be the only lasting impression we made on academia.

Having been raised in rural Washington instead of rural Arkansas, we've never eaten one of those allegedly tasty rodents. Don't worry, we're not going into a masculine penis-flouting lita ny of weird meats we've eaten, but it seems that the native Western Gray Squirrel is protected in Washington, while those ubiquitous, and obnoxious Eastern transplants we see in the city, are presumably fair game.

We're big fans of the squirrel-blasting blog of record, Squirrel Hunting Society where we gleaned this tidbit:

I live in Washington State in the US, and we use a variety of rifles for long range squirrel removal. If you ever come to Washington or Oregon state, in the US, email me and I’ll give you a free lesson in long range squirrel removal. I’m sure I could also print up some type of certificate that you could hang in the local pub and tell cool exploding squirrel stories. LOL

(Need to dress a squirrel for the pot or the Governor's Ball? click here).

The subject of urban game is dear (not deer) to us. A chef we languished under -- Francois Kissel, owner of Seattle's long-gone Brasserie Pittsbourg -- used to wax fondly about trapping squab on the hoof as a student in Paris and broiling them on sticks. (After living in cities, pigeons, in the food chain are as un-tempting as squirrels, but the truth is in the mouth, as Francois would always say).

A couple of French software geeks we hung out with in the '90's used to snare the fat, hand-fed Canadian geese down at Greenlake. These guys were certainly not poverty-stricken, but found great sport in scooping up these big birds as they slept or by luring them with granola and talking them into sticking their formidable necks into the loops of nylon fishing string they'd rigged up.

They were amazed at the bounty of those arrogant, feathered porkers allowed to waddle around pooping on Seattleites' lifestyle. They roasted them up gleefully and served them with purslane or choucroute, quaffed water glasses full of something red and chewy, and laughed, ha-ha! at what the stupid Americans left pooping by the wayside.

That Huck-a-Bee would go on national TV, and talk about frying squirrels -- as endearing as that may be  to us -- signals a candidacy not ready for prime time.

We hear Joe Scarborough's reaction: "Ewwww, too much information!" echoing across the land from the mouths of grossed-out young girls, animal-loving kids, environmentalist suburbanites, and city dwellers who believe squirrels are just rats with a better 'do.

Romney political operatives have already started the snickering insinuations that Huck-A-Bee, who used to weigh over 300 lbs., would eat anything -- even your kitty, if he got between you and it.

(photo: squirreligami ready for the pot)

They whisper to their friendly media lackeys: What else has the governor eaten?

Should a man be considered viable, for what he considers edible? The answer is definitely, yes -- at least in these United States.

In our WWSC (now WWU) dorm, we cooked spaghetti and noodle soup in the popcorn popper and made Hollandaise, flapped tortillas, and seared burgers on the hot plate. In Bellingham, a poultry store on Railroad Avenue sold chicken tails -- the part that goes through the fence last -- for 10 cents a pound. Two bits bought a dinner party, and every night was a party.

We cooked-up chicken butts for weeks on end. And there was no end to the innovation: Chicken Butt Ragout-la-la; Chicken Butt Charlie (after Charlie Manson); Chicken-fried Chicken butt; Cassoulet de Chicken Butt; Chicken Butt Tuna Casserole; Chicken Butt à la mode de Caen. (Top Ramen in those days was not for students; it was exotic, very expensive, and only consumed by people like Aristotle Onassis at restaurants like "21").

But when we put the Chow Yuck left over from the night before in our electric percolator, plugged it in and left for the weekend, we got kicked out of the dorm. It was an important turning point in our academic lives for other reasons we won't go into here, but an acrid smell reminiscent of the burning of Shanghai lingered for many years.

Sadly, that turned out to be the only lasting impression we made on academia.

Having been raised in rural Washington instead of rural Arkansas, we've never eaten one of those allegedly tasty rodents. Don't worry, we're not going into a masculine penis-flouting lita ny of weird meats we've eaten, but it seems that the native Western Gray Squirrel is protected in Washington, while those ubiquitous, and obnoxious Eastern transplants we see in the city, are presumably fair game.

We're big fans of the squirrel-blasting blog of record, Squirrel Hunting Society where we gleaned this tidbit:

I live in Washington State in the US, and we use a variety of rifles for long range squirrel removal. If you ever come to Washington or Oregon state, in the US, email me and I’ll give you a free lesson in long range squirrel removal. I’m sure I could also print up some type of certificate that you could hang in the local pub and tell cool exploding squirrel stories. LOL

(Need to dress a squirrel for the pot or the Governor's Ball? click here).

The subject of urban game is dear (not deer) to us. A chef we languished under -- Francois Kissel, owner of Seattle's long-gone Brasserie Pittsbourg -- used to wax fondly about trapping squab on the hoof as a student in Paris and broiling them on sticks. (After living in cities, pigeons, in the food chain are as un-tempting as squirrels, but the truth is in the mouth, as Francois would always say).

A couple of French software geeks we hung out with in the '90's used to snare the fat, hand-fed Canadian geese down at Greenlake. These guys were certainly not poverty-stricken, but found great sport in scooping up these big birds as they slept or by luring them with granola and talking them into sticking their formidable necks into the loops of nylon fishing string they'd rigged up.

They were amazed at the bounty of those arrogant, feathered porkers allowed to waddle around pooping on Seattleites' lifestyle. They roasted them up gleefully and served them with purslane or choucroute, quaffed water glasses full of something red and chewy, and laughed, ha-ha! at what the stupid Americans left pooping by the wayside.

That Huck-a-Bee would go on national TV, and talk about frying squirrels -- as endearing as that may be  to us -- signals a candidacy not ready for prime time.

We hear Joe Scarborough's reaction: "Ewwww, too much information!" echoing across the land from the mouths of grossed-out young girls, animal-loving kids, environmentalist suburbanites, and city dwellers who believe squirrels are just rats with a better 'do.

Romney political operatives have already started the snickering insinuations that Huck-A-Bee, who used to weigh over 300 lbs., would eat anything -- even your kitty, if he got between you and it.

(photo: squirreligami ready for the pot)

They whisper to their friendly media lackeys: What else has the governor eaten?

Should a man be considered viable, for what he considers edible? The answer is definitely, yes -- at least in these United States.

Comments

[Fremont]

That pic is a sore for sighted eyes. Your chicken-butt tales (tails) are as fabulous warmed over as they were in the dorm.

[Pastor Perineum]

I assure you, Mike Huckabee will NEVER RUN as an environmentalist named 'Mike Fuckatree!'
Christians may hug a tree, but intercourse without the benefit of marriage is forbidden by The Bible, and marrying a plant is an abomination. (It's Adam and Eve, not Adam & Leaf)

[Puget Sound]

Gov Huckabee will be free to play that bass guitar of his on Fox for years to come. He won't be the nominee of the Repubs in 2012. My early wish is to get Congressman Paul Ryan in the race.

Congressman Paul Ryan had a fantastic quote on the problem with Socialism that sums it best:
'more takers than makers.'

BTW, ask the Germans how they feel about bailing out Greece.

[KS]

I like Ryan also, but heard him say that he probably will not be running. My new favorite dark horse is Gov. Christie of NJ - I like his no-nonsense fiscal discipline !

[Duffman]

I agree KS, Christie seems to be what politician should be...forthright, direct and pragmatic. We need carbon-copies.

[Chucks (are you drinking Kool-Aid or TEA?)]

I agree with KS and Duffman. We need to clone Christie, spread that talent around the country and get this nation on track.