Monday, November 4, 2013

Linda Blair

The scariest thing I ever saw wasn’t the movie, “The Exorcist,” William Peter Blatty’s 1979 horrific twist on modern day demon possession starring Max von Sydow, Ellyn Burstyn and Linda Blair.  No, the scariest thing I ever saw was Linda Blair, herself; the actress whose career was born barfing on a priest and doing bad things with a crucifix worse than Madonna; but I should back up.  Once, I wrote for a newspaper in Boston.  Early October, the office received a press kit for the grand opening of something, someplace called “Spooky World.”  Billed as America’s favorite horror theme park “SpOOOOOkeee World!!” went the theme song some of you know all too well.  SP would go on to be big, really big, Foxboro Stadium big but it started as a humble hundred acres in the hilly Berkshires of Massachusetts.  The press kit was a goth’s dream: dozens of plastic spiders came tumbling out when I tore into the large manila envelope, followed by a spray of candy corn and a dozen 8x10 glossies of slasher/horror film stars, folks like Robert Englund, aka Freddy Krueger and C G Graham, the 20th guy to play Jason, plus a mother/daughter scream team from LA.  And don’t let me forget Tiny Tim.  The Tiny Tim would be there, too.  Before he died.  All these unparalleled frightsters, haunted hayrides and cryptic centric mayhem in the eerie, dense New England woodland.  You could even hold a real-live tarantula if you wanted. So, there I was, opening night, rubbing el-bones with Halloween royalty.  Across from me at the VIP table sat Mr. and Mrs. Spooky World, she sporting an oversized rhinestone spider pin.  “I love your pin!” I smiled.  Tiny Tim, tall like a dapper giraffe, was strolling about the barn turned banquet hall, famously strumming his uke.  Freddy was mugging for photos and just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, I realized I was staring at Linda Blair.  The actual LINDA BLAIR in the flesh and blood seated on the other side of the room.  I was transfixed.  She was eating potato salad and laughing and eating. About to lift a forkful to her round, wide-eyed face when a small wet goop missed the mark came falling from the corner of her mouth -but she didn’t stop.  She kept on laughing, baby-bird mouthed mayonnaise mixed with saliva, hysterical, her eyes rolling back in her head a bit.  She just kept on laughing. 
 
Shudder.

 

Thursday, October 3, 2013

If you knew kolaches, like I knew kolaches...


Boston to Bentonville: Time for Olde Tyme Donuts

One of the first places we stopped for coffee and something to eat after we landed in Bentonville, Arkansas was Olde Tyme Espresso & Donuts.  My idea as I am a bit of a veteran donut journalist.  I’d reported for the Boston Globe on mom and pop donut shops in 2001 with an article entitled “Early Risers.”  It was a dream piece for someone who likes to eat sweet.  I’d meet with bakers at 4am and bringing back the story and a box of fresh hot donuts that I would wave under my still sleeping, to-be husband, George’s nose.  No wonder he married me.  We also had a ferocious ant problem at the time. Go figure.  I liked Olde Tyme right away because of the gratuitous use of old English.  Here, on corner of Highway 102 and 1101 S. Sam Walton Boulevard, their signage stood out: the first “O” in Donuts done in sprinkled donut font. Their motto: Donuts “fresh as mountain air.”  Inside, you’ll find it pleasantly sparse with an overwhelmingly friendly smell of sugar and java.  A few tables covered with plain white paper and bistro chairs offer a place for you and your donuts and coffee.  Where it gets confusing is at the counter: so much baked goodness going on.  Bear claws, crullers, twists, bizmarks, glazed, old fashioned cake (my husband loves those), dipped, holes, long johns, rolls…. I felt like my dental hygienist was about to call.

But it wasn’t the donuts that got my interest that morning, it was the kolaches.  Pronounced ko-lah-chee, these 8 inch, skinless, pork sausages are cozily wrapped in a thin sheet of leftover donut dough: remains of the day turned into savory breakfast fare.  Two kinds are feature here at OTD: regular (which means with cheese) and jalapeno. Possibly of Czech (some think Polish) origin, the proto type of the kolache is perhaps the klobasniky, cousin to cocktail party staple, pigs-in-a-blanket.   Our North Shore Massachusetts friend, Priscilla and her family go on a “pepperoni roll tour” whenever they visit back home in West Virginia.  It’s all related.  The Urban Dictionary has kolache as a form of spooning or snuggling with someone.  Perhaps while eating kolaches. (http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=kolache

The kolaches in the Ozarks are a best seller: real-sized sausage (not some rinky dink link) sealed in baked yeast dough, easy to handle, bread doesn’t overwhelm; good heat/sweet ratio on the sausage; cheese in there makes it a meal.  My son loves the jalapeno version, says it isn’t too spicy.  Eat two, don’t be embarrassed, they’re really good. You’ll get some exercise today, I’m sure.

Olde Tyme goes way back, sort of.  We get the story from now owner David Rushing.  His uncle, original owner, Bill Wright left his Mississippi home on account of high crime and too many mosquitos and opened Olde Tyme Donuts 25 years ago in nearby Springdale, with his brother.  His uncle brought with him a delicious hearty breakfast sausage sandwich from the old neighborhood.  Now, David and his brother, Ken Rushing have time to make the doughnuts (and kolaches).  Located on what was once a used car lot, the highly visible, red roofed, white aluminum sided, small single story building on the main drag here in Bentonville has plenty of parking.  (There is more parking here in the Midwest than anyone in Boston can imagine in their wildest all access unlimited rock star parking dreams.   You can come here and park your car faster than finding a spot in the North End.)

Olde Tyme’s kitchen and second location (with drive-thru) is tucked at the end of a little corner strip mall (2502 SW 14th Street) about a mile away.  A store front, casual donut shop, the slightly floured, smiling Rushing family members are happy to see you.   A big red stencil of the donut logo and motto is about all the decoration there is, if you don’t count the display shelves filled with mouth-watering pastries.  Behind the counter, the baking facilities, you can see the sugar glazer from the window.  If you check the FaceBook status (Olde Tyme Donuts “Bentonville”), you’re likely to see a post of “just finishing cooking up a batch of Hot Donuts!”  If you’ve never had a fresh hot donut, you haven’t really lived.  As for the kolaches, Rushing notes, “Folks around here will get mad when we’re out.”  Sure.

Rushing recalls his Uncle Bill training and teaching him the business, “The way he did it, it was a very exact science, he had step-by step-methods.”   Now, every 2:30am he and Ken start in to make what I had him estimate would be a couple hundred dozen donuts and specialty items from approximately 200 pounds of flour.  Locals watch for the neon HOT and OPEN signs to illuminate the pre-sunrise dark, 5am, sustaining early Midwest risers with intoxicating bakery treats and brews, bottled juices, whatever you need to open your eyes.       

So, what about the rumors Dunkin Donuts is coming to town?  The east coast mega breakfast and beyond franchise already put out their shingle in nearby Fort Smith and according to the Fayetteville Flyer in an August 2013 article, DD tweeted plans to start construction on their new site at 2306 14th Street.  (http://www.fayettevilleflyer.com/2013/08/26/spotted-dunkin-donuts-dunkinnwa-twitter-account/).  The rest of the country may run on Dunkin Donuts, but it isn’t running Olde Tyme D’s off the road around here.  Rushing shrugs, “I’m not worried.  They’ll be far enough away from us.  People might try them out but they’ll come back.  We’re fresher and hotter and charge less.” 

Olde Tyme has already withstood the Krispy Kreme invasion.  One of their logos features the slogan “Krispy Who? – Our donuts cream the competition.”   It’s true: prices start at 69 cents a donut. (kolaches, $1.75)  Sixty-nine cents won’t even buy you the hole in Boston.  OTD also serves not just coffee but espresso, cappuccinos, mochas, just to stay competitive.  Dunkin Donuts is big, but I don’t think they can hold a kolache to Olde Tyme Donuts of Bentonville, Arkansas. 

 

Monday, September 23, 2013

Going Nuts for the World Championship Squirrel Cook Off


Going Nuts for the World Championship Squirrel Cook Off

My husband and I moved our small family from storied and historic east coast Boston, Massachusetts to Bentonville, Northwest Arkansas, home of WalMart, Jesse James and the beautiful Ozark Mountains. This is where the “Beverly Hillbillies” come from.  For real.   Pre-cement pond days.  “Shootin’ at some food,” as the theme song goes.  Indeed. Sipping my venti chai latte with soy milk while strolling fashionable, brown stoned Newbury Street seemed like a faraway memory now. 
We were exploring the Bentonville Chamber of Commerce for signs of life when I saw the poster, “World Championship Squirrel Cook-Off.”  (www.squirrelcookoff.com). A punk rock event, right?  I think I remembered WCSC on the bill with Minor Threat and Bad Brains at CBGB’s hardcore showcase.  Upon closer inspection, I found no “playing at” no “18 plus.” Just a well-done cartoon squirrel in country duds, an oversized fork slung over his shoulder and a big, acorn-eating grin on his furry mug.  There was a date September 7th and time, 9am -12pm and a place, Bentonville.  The very same Bentonville I had just moved to.  Imagine my surprise.  Just try.  Me, accustomed to sublime dining in places like Mistral, Radius, L’Espalier and Locke-Obers.  I once saw a squirrel downtown back home. He was sitting on a bench in the Common eating a slice of pizza.  He was as liable to get shot there as I was, also eating pizza. 

“Do you see this? Do you see this?!  We HAVE TO GO! We have to!!!”  I dragged my husband, George over to the poster. He smiled and agreed if not somewhat apprehensively, though I have never seen him miss a meal even if it scampers around the yard before hand. His Italian grandfather had a vicious hatred of squirrels.  There is a very bad story, like in many Italian families, about it.  I hoped the cook off wouldn’t bring back painful memories.
The day of the big event was hot and gorgeous early.  A super sunny, late summer morning with soaring blue skies streaked with wisps of white.  It’ had been a hot gorgeous sunny summer day since we got here mid-August.  If I squint, I can pretend it’s Mexico.  Cancun-by-the-red-clay.   George and I agree: The weather has been three New England summers-in-one.   We got there right at 9am.  Everyone bright eyed and bushy tailed.  The cook off was set up in the shadow of the distinguished Bentonville Court House, (circa 1928) if there was a shadow.  The seasonal farmers’ market in full swing around the memorial fountain in the center of square.  A figural rep dedicated to Senator James H. Berry, (1841-1913) the only Governor of Arkansas to herald from Bentonville resides at the top.  According to Larry Horton of Bentonville Real Estate News and Historic Journal, (www.bentonville123.com) attempts to topple Berry from his post for political correctness have numbered a few over the years, but the 2nd lieutenant has managed to stay-put on his pedestal and, for now, overlooks the bounty below: fresh fruits and veggies, cheese, meats, baked goods, candies, jams, arts, crafts, and more. The square is framed with mostly modest, two story buildings, some dating from 1880s with divine white gothic trim set on deep red brick.  Much of town was burnt down in spite during the Civil War or knocked down accidently, so there’s some fill- in-the blank buildings styled neo 19th (circa 1980) two-tone brick fronts imitating old western. It works.  Not the least is the original WalMart, Sam Walton’s legendary Five & Dime, preserved in a spiffy red and white façade museum, gift store and ice cream parlor.  It’s a must-see if you’re ever in town.  But not today, we were on a mission to eat squirrel, not get squirrelly with every distracting tourist attraction, every shiny nut we saw.

At the entrance of the cook off, a hand-written disclaimer greets/warns the public that the event contains meats harvested and processed…, so on, and don’t blame us if you get a belly ache, to paraphrase.  Your friends’ last 4th of July BBQ should have had such a warning sign. 
Beyond, there’s a corridor of white canopied competitors beginning their hopefully award- winning squirrel centric meals.  Thirty contestants (up from twenty) from five states came out for the 2013 competition designed to bring the best out of man and rodent.  Entrants must prepare all food on site within 2 ½ hours, using 80% squirrel in the meat (squirrel plays well with other meats, we learned).  Two dishes are required: a main and a side dish to be judged by a panel of five experts and seven not-experts.  The grand prize is $500.

The mountain man behind the hillbilly culinary event is Joe Wilson, a 40- year-old, local project manager and avid small game wild hunter.  He sees the cook off as part of something much larger.  From a phone interview he said, “It’s easy to get misled and think Crystal Bridges (the new art museum) is our culture but that’s all new to us, too.  Heritage and tradition is really important, so by us having the event, we get to show people who probably wouldn’t get to wild game cooking or more traditional country lifestyles.  We showcase that to the public and it’s a great way to keep the heritage and the tradition alive. “
 Wilson also extols the virtues of small game hunting for youth enrichment.  In an August 2013 article by David Figura,(www.syracuse.com) on opening day of squirrel season in the upstate New York area, he said, “For me, like many others, it started off hunting in the backyard and fields around my house, shooting small game when I was young.  Now, as an adult, I’ve taken out many youngsters and taught them to hunt.  The rewards are great.  They’ll forget the video game they played yesterday. But their memories of being outdoors will last a lifetime.” 

Wilson, a Bentonville resident, is also President of Squirrels Unlimited, (www.squirrelsunlimited.com).  Started in 2006; ranks have climbed to 1,200.  Members share their love of hunting and cooking, swapping recipes and tips.  SqU merchandise makes for great gifts even for the non-believer.  Only $30 to join and as my friend Erin said, “It’s worth the t-shirt alone.”  And a very nice, bright, don’t-shoot-it’s-only-me orange it is.  Their mission statement:  “Dedicated to the recognition and promotion of squirrels as one of mankind’s greatest gift.”
On that note, let’s see what’s cooking.

First, to get the party started, I tried a canapé made by team Squirrel Royalty.  A slightly chunky, grayish smear on a Ritz (it’s true -everything does fit on a Ritz).  Took a bite, mmm, not bad.  Lite, not gamey, you could taste the rest of the spread, celery, mayo maybe.  Nothing happened. I didn’t grow a tail, start hording nuts or go blind, as a matter of fact; I was eyeing a second cracker of the stuff. It was still early and curious folks were drifting into the cook off from the farmer’s market.  Serious quaint alert.  If you are feeling at all nostalgic, this will blow you up.  I’ve heard some refer to Bentonville as, “Mayberry on steroids.” At least the squirrels aren’t on any. 
To start any great meal, you have to prep your ingredients.  This morning, contestants set upon gutting the game meat, in this case, a smallish pink carcass like you might expect, strangely still and wet.  The once high-energy squirrel now here stripped, asleep in his hour of cookery.  Getting the meat off the bones seemed like a tedious chore.  The average 12 oz. squirrel feeds about one person and cuts into six or nine parts nicely. The ribs are tasty, I read somewhere, don’t get rid of them.  We’d gotten here too late for the skinning process, I am assuming, which would involve a simple slit and ripping off the fur in opposite directions.  The tail has to be cracked off and there is a tail recycling program.  I do not want to look in that particular bin.  In truth, the superfluous tails are used by a company called Mepps, a long time maker of bait and lures and such.  None of these things has ever occurred to me.

Fun Squirrel Fact: Marvel Comics (www.marvel.com) once went out on a limb and introduced Squirrel Girl.   Cast as a sidekick for Iron Man who wanted not much to do with her forest foraging, tail twitching ways.  She eventually scampered back to a lesser-known posse of action hero super vermints.  Yes.  Also, Hanna-Barbera's short-lived Super Squirrrel (circa 1965).
  
Next, we met Appalachian Heritage Cookery, Pete Wyatt and Jesse Helton, who have made the trek from Tennessee with an olde tyme squirrel recipe involving moscadine wine, wild oyster mushrooms, barley and a side of corn bread.  They cooked on an open-flame, dressed in laced-up, tan leather ala their forest hunting fore bearers.  The two found out about the cook off on the internet, just like their grand pappies would have done. 

In the works; squirrel sausage and risotto wrapped in bacon and stuffed back into the squirrel, this delicate but hearty arrangement came courtesy of the Bentonville Fire Department’s Ben Snodgrass and Matt Perkins. You may not know, but firemen are some of the best cooks because their job necessitates hanging around the station, and people get hungry waiting for something to catch fire.  
In this corner: Greg Ginn (aka Tree Rat Cookers) of Rogers, (that’s a city next to Bentonville, it’s a little like Jamaica Plain, Boston back home) and his family.  Ginn was meticulously dicing and slicing a colorful assortment of dried raisins, apples, cherries to be mixed with wine and suet for a squirrel minced meat. “When will you be done?” I asked checking my watch, “I need to try this.”  

Gumbo anyone? That seemed like an obvious choice for Mr. Squirrel to take a bath in.  Walter Fry of the Bentonville County Squirrel Posse concurred.  There’s missing no missing a rue-in- progress.

Fun Squirrel Fact: the first squirrel soup on record according to The Joy of Cooking (pre 1997) (www.thejoykitchen.com)is the Brunswick stew, originally traced back to Braunschweig, Germany and migrated to the Carolinas, which also gives the eastern gray or “sciurus carolinensis” squirrel his name.  Sciurus means “shadow tail” in Greek.

Other offerings we couldn’t wait to get our paws on when they were done cooking: squirrel linguini, Caribe jerky, eggroll, BBQ, sausage and that gumbo.  And nut for nothing, money raised from the event is donated to the Northwest Arkansas Children’s Shelter. 
And yes, The Travel Channel (www.travelchannel.com) has already been here.  Last year, Andrew Zimmern chewed the squirrel on the Bizarre Foods section.  And this wasn’t the only weird nosh the popular cable show tucked into.  It was a week of freaky eatin’s in the Ozarks.   The Wall Street Journal (www.online.wjs.com) was on top of 2013 with a piece by Ann Zimmerman the following Tuesday.  Nut-in-cheek title, “A Squirrel Notion Keeps Wal-Mart’s Hometown Down-Home.”  The article focuses on Bentonville’s growing pains.  Huntin’ Hillbilly Hick vs. Mercedes Driving Transient Slicks.   And who could forget former Arkansas Mike Huckabee confessing to squirrel eating on Meet the Press in 2008?

Arkansas owns a blue sky that goes on and on.  There’s nothing to stop it here.  Even the white hot sun sometimes looks lost.  Not like in Boston where the heavens get interrupted by dark clouds, the beloved Hoodie Blimp or someone giving you The Finger on a regular basis.   Here an endless azure over the green hills of apples and chickens, (I’ll get to that later).  We left the squirrel masters, to look around the country, while they worked their magic.
Who judges a squirrel cook-off? Gordon Ramsey? He’s nuts.  What about the guys in Squirrel Nut Zippers, the 1900’s hybrid lounge band?  They’re originally from North Carolina; the name is derived from a form of bootlegging.  In truth, bonafide taste-makers dig in to the game.  Matthew McClure, now Executive Chef at The Hive, located inside Bentonville’s newest upscale boutique hotel, 21c Museum Hotel, (www.21cmuseumhotel.com) was on the cook off panel.   A disciple of Boston-based chef, Lydia Shire, (who is known to bring something offal to the table now and again) the Little Rock native studied at the New England Culinary Institute and worked at No 9, Troquet and Harvest.  But it was the sensations of the Ozarks that led him back.   McClure’s signature “High South” menu features wild catch including rabbit gnocchi, grilled rabbit and other tasty offerings like crispy chicken livers.   He loves local ingredients; expect lots of black walnuts, pole beans, hickory smoked ham, peaches and corn meal in the kitchen.  McClure is quoted in a company press release, “I am immensely proud of my home state of Arkansas and thrilled to be part of the 21c team.”

Another local taste maker: Celebrity chef Phyllis Speers. Inducted into the Arkansas Outdoor Hall of Fame, she’s well-known for her PBS’s show “Cooking on the Wild Side” which she cohosted with John Philpot. (www.aetn.org/programs/cookingonthewildside). Speers is not shy around game meat.  One of her dishes, “Triple D Appetizer” features deer, duck and dove.  Also judging were honest-to-goodness judges.  The honorable Judge Bob Clinard of Benton County, to name names.  Reminds me when I called Medford, MA’s Chief of Police for quote about donuts for the Boston Globe.  “The guys are goin’ to kill me if I talk to you…, “ he started off.
Squirrel Fun Fact: Motor City Madman and woodsman, Ted Nugent’s wild game cookbook, “Kill It and Grill It” includes a recipe for Limb Rat Etouffee.

The WCSC has fans from all walks of life and limb.  Christian Brooks of (www.gocarnivore.com) called the event part of a “culinary renaissance” happening in the wild eating scene.   Foodie meets folk.  Americans are not the first to go gaga for game.  The Brits have been feasting on squirrel to keep the invasive gray squirrel from decimated the native red squirrel population. To that end, many fine dining establishments across the pond are serving up tree rats.  As part of his edgy menu, Chef Fergus Henderson of St. John’s offers squirrel, along with pig’s ears and bone marrow.   Hilary Armstrong, writing for London Lite said in her 2009 review: Best exotic restaurants in London: St. John’s “puts Tufty on the menu.”  Try it fried or gently braised with dried porcinis, shallots and bacon. (www.stjohnrestaurant.com/menus). Chef Kevin Viner who runs Cornwall’s first Michelin-starred eatery, Pennypots, favors Southern Fried squirrel as well as tandoori style.  And an article in The Observer by Caroline Davis confirms the trend, “The ultimate ethical meal: a grey squirrel. It tastes sweet, like a cross between lamb and duck. And it’s selling as fast as butchers can get it…”goes the title.  Plus, there’s a recipe for Victorian gray squirrel pie on some Brit website.  I’ll stop now.  It’s easy to go nuts about squirrels.

Around noon, we returned to the WCSC and hoped to sample, but trying to get a bite of squirrel proved a challenge.  I had to dart around like an idiot, here and there, waiting a moment in one promising looking line, then sprinting off when I saw a more accessible mouthful. I had to get squirrelly with it if I was going to get any.  Having to prepare two rounds of presentations for the judges, this left precious little for the rest of us.  And the lines were there, people were hungry in the blazing mid-west, midday sun.  I did manage to get some squirrel risotto, lovely, creamy and yet toothsome.  My Italian husband makes a mean risotto, so I am no push over.   Then, my son (who eats everything) and I dined on squirrel eggrolls, a nice blend of crunchy veggies and bits of lean squirrel meat in a crispy fried wrapper.  And you can see in the photo (when I get it up) me indulging in a big ole bowl fulla squirrel gumbo. Our friend D’Linda from Louisiana says it’s delicious.  She was right, this was a good batch and there was a swarm to get it.  She was also right about Frito Pies.

My one must-nibble was the squirrel mincemeat and I got there just in time to find only five left.  Five elegant flaky filo bowls in which a part sweet/sour/squirrel mix of goodness nestled.  I ate two (!)  I did it.  It was me.  Well-baked Mr. Ginn, well-baked. 

What *does* squirrel taste like?  I wondered about the diet, like the Serrano boar at the all-you-can-eat-truffle bar, what’s for dinner for the average squirrel family in these parts?  If they are smart they will stay out of Sonic. (For the kids back home, Sonic is a slightly surreal, brightly lit, over-processed retro drive-in, fast food franchise we don’t have on the east coast)  It really depends on the season, Joe Wilson illuminated the answer for us when he said the meat is sweeter when the animals have been filling up on juicy sun ripened fruits, typically blueberries and strawberries and they taste much gamier, heavier when there’s not much but chilly October’s hulls scattered sparse on the dark forest floor.  Otherwise oaks on the menu are: white oak, Spanish oak, black oak, swamp oak, northern red oak, willow oak, water oak, shingle oak, bur oak, post oak, chinkapin oak.  And throw in a hickory nut tree or two.  (I eat a lot of nut butters. I’m betting I taste like squirrel, a big bushy lady squirrel with an awesome tail that couldn’t scale a tree if it fell on top of me)  

We asked Joe Wilson what he felt was the source of misconceptions or misgivings about eating squirrel when it proved to be such a versatile meat source.  Was it an image problem?  Answer:  “People don’t realize that squirrel has been a source of protein on the dinner table since the white man first came here.  We had squirrel in the White House.  It’s lost now because of the similarity to being a rat.”  He said it.  Here’s a list of adjectives that also apply:  High-quality, all natural, organic, no steroids, free range (look outside! there’s one).  I will wait patiently for the day Whole Foods back in Boston sells squirrel to suburban housewives when they could just shoot their own in the backyard. 

Like you might expect at the World Champion Squirrel Cook Off, there was much last minute squirreling about and squiring around of precious take-out boxed food presentations as eager contestants assembled their final entry for the judges, while trying to reserve enough to give the crowd a taste, too.  Musician Joshua Walters, (originally from Pennsylvania where he was known to enjoy a squirrel or two) sang a damned funny song in praise of same.  The lyrics were hysterical.  Here’s a bit:  “Well, there ain’ no fat, plenty of meat.  You laugh at a feller like me for eat’em.   Jokes on you -buy meat from a store.  Shame what folks pay good money for.”  The chorus, “Squirrel squirrel squirrel squirrel squiiiiiiiiiiirrel! ” really got cooking.  (www.youtube/watch?v_NFs7115zpYU) look up The Squirrel Song by Joshua Walters.

Finally, the moment we’ been waiting for: the winners’ announcement. 3rd place a group of guys calling themselves “Gunsmoke” for mouth-watering sautéed squirrel with peppers and onions fajitas.  2nd place Squirrelly Bastards with unique fusion Korean taco. 1st place and now two-time reigning World Squirrel Cook Off Champions, the Estes Brothers, Blayne and Brandon of Bentonville, AR and a main dish of squirrel sausage on a soft roll and a side dish of squirrel gumbo and pheasant salad.  ‘Nuff said.
Wilson, decked in jeans and a crisp white cowboy hat, capped off the cook off ceremony.  He thanked everyone for coming out, coming together to eat squirrel, a native wild game that’s been ethically gathered and part of the story of this land, and he hoped they had a good time.  I think they did. I know I did.  Learned about a common rodent and ate it.  Made a Boston connection in Chef McClure.   You know Sheryl Julian at the Boston Globe Food section is getting an email.  And let’s not forget Squirrel Brand Nuts in Cambridge, MA.   And did I mention? The other big geological range in Arkansas is oddly named the Boston Mountains, located in the southern portion of the Ozark plateau.  I wondered if squirrels there bled blue.  My husband for his part, suffered no post traumatic squirrel syndrome.
On the drive back home, under an illuminated peach and blue setting sun, we stopped for traffic and I noticed a lone squirrel sitting in a hard dirt yard, shadowed in gray dusk.  He gave a nervous twitch as if to suddenly spring off for cover.  “It’s OK,” I assured from the car window, “You’re safe until 2014.”

Fun Squirrel Fact: Real stuffed squirrel novelty items were popular in the 1930’s. Not just taxidermied frogs they made play poker in perpetuity.  And this www.Readavaquinn.blogspot.com for videos of squirrels boxing.