People who have near death experiences all talk about a peaceful, euphoric , bright light enveloping them. From the moment we are conceived, we are moving towards that light. This is my heels diggin' in, I don't wanna' go, reluctant journey, into the light. Stephen







Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Bass BBQ/Food Chain



That's Bass. Not Bass.  You know, bass drum, bass guitar, you know, bass.  Bass are fish, not instruments. There's a difference. Got it? 

The point of the bass vs. bass thing is that, despite reading every enclyclopedia I could find, I didn't know the difference between, "base instinct",  and "bass instinct"  until I was about 15.  I felt SO stupid when I found out.  I thought "base instinct" was "bass instinct"  because I couldn't control those deep bass rhythms that incessantly sprang forth from my soul.  An incessant, welcome rhythmic backdrop to my life. Unexplained, it was just always there.  Constant thumpin' companion.

 If my right foot, without conscious permission, just starts poppin' away, that's bass instinct.  If I throw a fat Canadian nightcrawler, perfectly threaded on a laser sharpened hook, into a Smallmouth Bass' nest and she attacks it,  that's bass instinct.  Then there's BASE instinct.

A base instinct is the reason geese, ducks, and myriad other birds fly south for the winter.  Without G.P.S.  I believe one of the most "base instincts" than humans have is sitting around the cave chewing protein off bones.  Today, I succumbed to one of my base instincts.  Enough bass lately, let's do basic beef.




That's a rack of beef ribs, rubbed with molasses, then a run through the dry rub I made.  Dry rub is highlighted by fresh ground coffee and black pepper.  Also, garlic powder, smoked paprika, dried onion, salt, cumin, and a little crushed red pepper.



Plug in bullet type smoker and wait about 4 hours. Lid on of course.



Succumb to the incredibly delicious and coronarilly salacious pleasure of indulging in one of mankinds oldest "Base Instincts."   It's all about the gnawing.

click this pic to double your cholesterol count.

What a rare treat. To indulge until satiated, just like our anscestor cavedudes who had 31 year life spans. That's a "BASE INSTINCT."

this posting was NOT approved by the American Heart Association.  However, it WAS funded by the American Cardiac Surgeons Association  and a couple big cattle ranchers in Northern Nevada.

5 comments:

Shannon said...

That's some good lookin' chow - and "coronarilly salacious" just fits perfectly. I was not aware of the base instinct or bass instinct...you have taught me something today! Unfortunately, I have never fished for Bass...or eaten it for that matter...I don't play drums and I only tap my foot if I have to pee really bad...glad I have your blog to read so I can stay aprised of such matters!!

Marla said...

Yummy...

We've only got 300 cows here in Oklahoma, but we also approve of this message.

Marla @ www.asthefarmturns.wordpress.com

Stephen said...

I hate it when girls start tapping their "i gotta go" toes. It means we will be stopping our forward momentum which was aiming towards where we are trying to get to, to find a mini-mart bathroom.

Home on the Range said...

It is 4:30 in the morning and now I want ribs. Great post.

Stephen said...

Brigid, you are either staying up too late, or getting up too early, but an occasional rib or two couldn't hurt. :-)