Right now I’m just campin, chillin on campus

A few weeks ago, many of us gave thanks for what we have in our lives. It’s called Thanksgiving, and (like the parents of babies born in August) Canadians choose to do it in October. But hey, to each his own, even if you are just America’s hat. I’m getting off topic, though. Allow me to focus.

When most folks are boarding planes, creating shopping itineraries, or even making up excuses not to see the dreaded in-laws, my family and I decided to take the path less travelled. The weather got colder and wetter, and we packed up our bags to brave the wintry mix. That’s right, we’re going camping!

Well, kinda-camping. You see, back in the day, we used to go old school, with one tent, one stove, and one ring to rule them all. We snickered and mocked those fancy folk who brought campers and RVs to suburban campsites, watching King of Queens reruns on their satellite TVs. But then, things changed. Papa got a brand new bag (or camper if you will), and now we camp in lux-ur-eeee.

Censored to protect the innocent. And my mom and sister.

In keeping with the old tradition, however, we did eat well. Campfire weenies, burgers, and instant oatmeal made no appearances on the menu this week. No sir, only fine dinin’. The primary mode of cooking came from Dutch ovens. This method employs the use of charcoals on the outside of cast iron pots that bake anything you’d like. Our setup looked something like this:

Above is what is considered a camping Dutch oven. This convention is not to be confused with the other, less appetizing (but equally as fun for one party!) form of Dutch oven-ing. In order to avoid being too crude, the end result of this other act of debauchery would look something like this:

Anywhoo, for the first night, we enjoyed some stuffed chicken breasts, steamed in corn husks with sweet and sour sauce. Behold its beauty (and ignore the poor picture quality).

Mmm, mmm, mmm. I felt like Jed Clampett, rustic and elegant. Like Meryl Streep in a log cabin. Like Audrey Hepburn atop a mountain. Like Chris Farley at a ballroom dance. Okay, that last one was just because he was fat, and so was I after finishing up dinner.

The next morning was what I would title a one-night stand with Rachel Ray:  Breakfast, A Highlight.

Dinner that evening was just as fulfilling. Though it did involve cylindrical pork meats, it was kielbasa sausage. And you can’t go wrong with kielbasa. Like Bangers and Mash…with green beans!

That night, of course we campfired. S’mores and mountain pies were made. Beers were drinken-dranked, and good times were had. The show-stopper, week-maker was a simple play of off the traditional s’more. Because the lighting was so poor for quality photography, I shall leave you with the (edited) hallowed words of Ham Porter (adapted from the favorite EAThens.org film, The Sandlot).

“

First you take the graham. You stick the [REESE'S PEANUT BUTTER CUP!!!!] on the graham. Then you roast the ‘mallow. When the ‘mallow’s flaming, you stick it on the [REESE'S PEANUT BUTTER CUP!!!!]. Then… – you cover it with the other end. Then you stuff. Kind of messy, but good. Try some.

“

Ah yes, “then you stuff.” How appropriate, Ham. How appropriate. If I had to take a pole of the family, I think we all agreed the entire week was a tent out of tent.

Advertisement