歪歪漫画

I鈥檓 increasingly spending less time watching TV dramas and more time gaining inspiration from YouTubers, who are just living life.

One of the regular channels my wife and I watch is about an Alaskan couple that tries to live a simple life, off-grid. They heat with wood, cook with gas, and electrify using solar energy and the occasional generator assistance. Most of their food is grown or harvested around their homestead or gathered from the abundant public land around them.

Because they live so far from civilization, they can鈥檛 just run to town to fulfill their needs. If they need it, they usually have to build it themselves. Recently, they milled a pile of lumber from spruce trees on their property. They used some pieces to build a cold smoker that they would later use to smoke jerky.

The work that went into the build made for good TV, in my opinion. It was also a good reminder of just how good I have it to live near other people who have an abundance of things to sell, so I don鈥檛 have to build everything. I had been kicking around the idea of building a smoker for some time, but a plan had not yet been formulated, and time had not yet been found to do it.

As I sought to come up with a plan, I happened upon a smoker for sale online from someone just a town over. The price was less than it would take to build one myself, and it was built better than I could ever dream of doing myself.

Pictures did not do it justice. This thing is big, heavy and well built. The seller actually crafted it himself from stainless steel to meet the needs of a friend who was into competitive barbecue.

Now, getting a smoker is the easy part. Knowing how to use that smoker takes an education. I鈥檝e smoked in my kettle grill long enough that I thought it would be a breeze to switch to this unit. So like a bozo, I did some things I鈥檝e never done before in a piece of equipment I鈥檝e never used before and hoped for the best. That鈥檚 one way to learn.

Once the (way too much) oak was roaring, the temperature was nearly impossible to control. I closed up dampers as best I could, but it only sent more smoke into the sky with the heat remaining. It鈥檚 a wonder the wildland firefighter crews didn鈥檛 come barreling down the driveway at some point.

After an hour adjusting air intake and exhaust, I finally got the heat I wanted, but the smoke was billowing as strong as ever. I peeked in and saw the sausage had turned a lovely color and the smell made it tempting to grab a bite. The temperature of the sausage, however, was not high enough based on recommendations I read about.

I should have pulled the sausage and finished it in the oven at that point. Instead, I followed the directions of an 鈥渙nline expert鈥� and kept going another hour until the sausage reached a safe internal temperature. The temperature was perfect, but the sausage had developed a smokiness so strong it would make a chain smoker cough and wheeze. It seems it was a case of too much fuel, not enough combustion, leading to dirty smoke.

Just touching the things left an odor on my hands that I could not seem to get off even after multiple hand washings. It was a perfume called 鈥淐resote.鈥� As I brought the beauties in for my family to admire, my wife praised the smell, saying, 鈥淚t鈥檚 not as bad as skunk spray.鈥�

I iced the sausage before plucking one out to reheat in the toaster oven. Nervously, I took a bite. The flavor was strong, but not awful. I actually finished it before any heartburn or coughing fits began.

Oh, and that Alaskan couple, they cold-smoked their jerky for 36 hours. I smoked my sausage for two hours. They chewed up and swallowed what appeared and sounded like pine bark. The least I can do is learn.