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Snakejaw_Joe

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    109914

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  • Gender
    Male
  • Location
    St Petersburg, FL
  • Interests
    woodworking, steel forging, engineering, Civil War era history. Hunting, fishing, camping.

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  1. My favorite wild boar recipes come from Europe, as that's where they originated from anyway. From my understanding the Spanish brought them over when they first came here. In Tuscany they grind the meat, marinate it in wine for 24 hours, then turn it into a rich ragu over fresh tagliatelle and a dollop of homemade sheep's ricotta. This is my family's favorite preparation. In Sicily they make spicy salamis with it. Germany its stuffed into a sausage and smoked heavily (wildschweinewurst), or breaded and fried with a mushroom sauce (jaegerschnitzel) Portugal its braised in a vegetable port sauce with a kick, and has a nice carnitas-like texture when you pull it apart. When I cook with it, I basically make sure the preparation is rich in flavor. Injected with a spiced butter and long-smoked with hickory is probably what I'd do with that butt.
  2. Howdy Brazos, time sorta slipped away from me past few weeks, the holiday time-warp has arrived in laws flying in next week and the schedules all chaos from there. San Antonio really took me by surprise... we had such a great time with the in-laws, thanks to all of y'alls suggestions. The riverwalk was world class and probably our favorite place to take a walk. We also did the boat tour which was a great way to take it all in and see the scope of it all. Menger was a treat, all that wood detailing and the antique guns just made me feel like I was at home. Alamo was a lot smaller than I expected, but glad I finally got to it. We did the guided tour as suggested and learned a lot of details that I never knew. Ate bbq and tacos pretty much all weekend. Had the best taco I've ever had at Pete's Tako House (previous champion was La Cabanita in Los Angeles). The bakery at Mi Tierra was well worth the wait, with their dia de los muertos specials. I really wished we had time to go the missions outside of town, but with two days on the schedule and one of those days reserved for her parents to show us his childhood landmarks, it will have to wait until next time. Like I need an excuse to come back! Here are some pics for anyone who wants to see: an Old Fashioned at the Menger Hotel: Strolls along the Riverwalk, most restaurants there are not that great but the atmosphere was worth it: Found my latest gunbelt accessory in a little store near Mi Tierra, the quickdraw beer holster. Wife wouldn't approve the purchase. Maybe I'll make one myself someday: Really juicy brisket at SmokeShack BBQ: Mi Tierra bakery: And the best for last, Petes Tako House. There was a 45 minutes wait Sunday, but they took our number and called us when the table was ready so we could walk the river. They make their tortillas there from scratch and you can tell. I caught a glimpse of the operation when the server went into the back. There was a mountain of flour they were processing into tortillas. I got two flour tortillas and one corn tortilla. Good no-frills homestyle tacos. I'd honestly go back to San Antonio just to eat there again! Y'all know how much I appreciate good food... Thanks again to all on this thread for all the great suggestions! Wouldn't have been such a great trip without your input.
  3. Alright rule #1 of snakejaw's frontier breakfast gunfighter: No less than 24gr black pepper must be used per egg Rule #2: Crossdraw allowed only if accompanied by bacon bandolier
  4. I think we need the input from a more qualified smith on this one, I can replace springs but flipping one broadside is beyond my scope
  5. As seen in the Alamo giftshop, San Antonio Make 2 of these bad boys with some black pepper and tobasco and you'll be eatin' frontier gunfighter style
  6. Good, I don't trust a man who doesn't like pizza. And I don't discriminate there either... I'll eat a floppy NY style pizza... a greasy fast food pizza... or a high brow brick oven pizza. Its bread, cheese and meat, what's not to like.
  7. I'm sure some do, I mean, even Italians dislike Sicilians But no, that wasn't the point. Not all Floridians, but the people in that community/development dislike all who are different. Mixed race, Hispanic, Black, whatever. More of a general xenophobia than a targeted dislike, if you know what I mean. People in FL definitely dislike Californians though, and if you happen to look like their concept of a terrorist, they won't like you that much more.
  8. I think you need a middle man, Cholla. Don't want to wait for an end user who's willing to pay full price? Sell it to me for $1,000 and I'll deal with the marketplace headaches!
  9. Thanks Cypress, I'm hoping to make it out starting the first of the year! I already went down and became a member of Wyoming Antelope, and try to steal away once in a while to blow off some steam at the range when I can, but until the virus slows down our lab has been working non stop. But I look forward to meeting you soon. I'll probably drop you a PM when I get started Thanks JD, I've found it really depends on the neighborhood here, much like it was in LA. We settled on a neighborhood 20 minutes away, where we found a 1917 home that needed a little TLC, and our neighbors are all very into history and we all get along well. Italians really do dislike Sicilians, there's a very big north/south divide there. To your point, I went to visit my cousin in Milan, I had learned to speak Sicilian from my parents (its a dialect, like how Texans speak compared to British), so I spoke Sicilian to a Milanese behind the coffee bar, they served me but I overheard the guy calling me the 'n' word to his coworker. It is getting better though as technology is helping to bring a more universal dialect to the country. My generation was the last to learn dialectical Sicilian.
  10. If we crack the speed of light barrier, our terrain will change as quickly as it did with the advent of the computer. But then we'll have the ethical issue of time travel to deal with, people running laps around the sun so they can see what the dinosaurs really looked like.
  11. For millennia, people gathered round a fire with food to hear a story. Stories entertained and helped reinforce cultural values. I see a lot of stories here on the wire saloon that all share the same narrative; and serve a similar function. Stories, after all, are a retelling of one's experiences, and when you hang out with like minded people your stories tend to be as similar as your experiences have been. This is a long story, but I'm trying to retell it as neutrally as possible. The mind has an interesting way of warping events to suit your internal monologue... and that would be a disservice to the subject matter. This happened to me two years ago, when my wife (then fiance) and I had just moved from Los Angeles to be with my grandmother in Clearwater, FL who wasn't doing well. We had a live-in nurse take care of her for the majority of her elder years, but she was declining rapidly and it was becoming too risky to keep her alone in her house. It was a no brainer to make the move then, given the economic struggle that is LA, but especially since my nonna needed someone to watch her house while she was in hospice care. Now I had grown up in Seminole, near Clearwater, until I turned 18 and went to Florida State for college before moving out west. So I was no stranger to the town. I would come 2-3x a year to visit my family and have holidays together. I knew the neighborhood my grandma lived in, and I knew it would be a tough fit for us. She often called me, dejected, saying she tried to go to the pool or to Bingo night but people there were mean to her. She never would say why or what happened, but I knew it was because she was different, and had a thick accent. I'm not too far off from my nonna, minus the accent. I like to wear hats, had a nice beard at the time (Civil War General style), and being Sicilian, I resemble a certain stereotype that a select few folks love to hate. For those that don't know, Sicilians are often referred to as the 'mutts of the mediterranean'. We're part North African, part Greek, part Italian, part Spanish, part Middle Eastern. My wife on the other hand looks like a barbie. Tall, blond, gorgeous. What a pair we are Despite what some misguided folks may think about me on the surface, I was literally born on July 4 and I take that to heart. I've been obsessed with the Civil War since I was 8 years old. I have pictures of Grant, Lee, Stonewall, and Sherman in my office, hanging above a collection of miniballs, beside the Union banner and two framed newspapers from the Harpers Weekly, dated 1862 and 1864. I hunt my own meat, and my dad taught me how to live with the land from a young age. I have always been a member of the 'common sense' political party (ie, judge each candidate as an individual) and refuse to identify as one side or the other. My mom and dad were young 1st generation Sicilian immigrants, came here with nothing. My dad made a living as a trapper in upstate New York/Canadian border while getting his bio degree, and later, masters in chem. He then worked 5 years at a large lab before starting his own chemical company here in FL, and has made a name for himself in the environmental testing community, before bringing his mother out here to retire. The American Dream. Anyway, despite sticking out like a sore thumb, we settled in fine, and first met our neighbor two houses down to the left, who had a little yorkie and went out of his way to make us feel welcome. He'd always walk by smoking a cigar and wore a fun bucket hat. He stopped by to give us recommendations on restaurants nearby to try, and told us not to be strangers. That gave us the courage to take a walk down to the development's clubhouse/pier on the water. After all, we lived there, so why not. We took our two dogs and walked about half a mile down to the pier. It was unlocked, so we walked right in. We sat in silence and enjoyed the evening, saw a pod of dolphins, the brilliant colors of a west coast gulf sunset, and lots of jumping mullet that I wished I had my cast net to catch. There was an older couple sitting next to us that kept staring at us, and from the corner of my eye, I could tell they weren't happy. But no problem, not my business. They left, and shortly after, we did too. As we were leaving, a stern looking older fellow was waiting for us at the gate of the pier with arms crossed. He scowled and said "Well, I hope you had a good time." Confused, I simply replied, "We did, it's a beautiful day". and smiled at him. He then grunted and put a lock on the gate before walking away from us. Anyway, what's one bad apple. I knew there were tensions in this part of Pinellas, and honestly I grew up with it too so it wasn't too big of a deal. So I let it go. Just a grumpy old man, right? Sure. Well, a short time later, I let my dogs out to pee in the backyard, and I hear a lady screaming. I look in my back window and I see my neighbor to the rear on a stepstool over my fence throwing branches at Fidget, who is just staring at her, confused. He's not barking, he's not doing anything, just sitting and staring at her with his head cocked. She hits Fidget with one of the branches and he yelps, at which point I see red (don't mess with a man's dog), run outside and shout "Hey! Do not throw things at my dog! What is wrong with you!?" She replied, "my dog refuses to pee because he smells your dog on the other side of the fence!" and she continues to throw branches at him, shouting 'GET BACK!' I shout back at her "Hey this is my property, my dog can sit at the fence all he wants! Get down before I call the police!" to which she turns to me and says, "Oh you think you're SO cool! You're not welcome here! Everybody in this neighborhood thinks you're trash! Go back to California where you belong!" (Yes this is literally what she said, word for word, it is burned into my brain). At this point I am completely speechless. My wife, hearing this, practically breaks down the back door and starts shouting all the municipal codes she's breaking, at which point the lady's husband comes out and starts shouting at me for starting a fight. It took me saying "I GREW UP HERE! I WENT TO SCHOOL WITH FRIENDS WHO ARE COPS HERE!" for him to stop shouting and say, "I'm coming to your house, meet me in front." My wife was afraid but I could tell he was just shocked to hear I was a local. The guy was wearing a country club polo, tucked into khaki slacks... the 'dentist on golf day' look. I told him we were there watching the property for my nonna, and we were planning on moving as soon as she got better. He said "Well Im glad to hear this isn't permanent, just stay out of each other's way and there won't be any more issues." It ended there. During the next few months there were a handful of similar encounters with my other neighbors, but you get the idea. From then on, we stayed inside and minded our business, until sadly, my nonna passed away. My dad offered the house to us, but the childhood memories of Christmases and Easters passed weighed heavy, and I knew it wasn't meant for me. I helped my dad renovate the house to help sell it and told him to share the money with his brother. What makes this memory stick so hard to me... these people flew an American flag in their front lawn. I grew up with a vision of America where all men were created equal, where the power lie in the hands of the people. While my friends admired Michael Jordan and Dan Marino, I admired Lincoln, Grant, Eisenhower, and the other brilliant minds of our country's past. The old west was as diverse as any big city... freed slaves trying to make a new life as stable hands... mexican and irish immigrants putting bread on their table as cowhands, native tribes trying to integrate with society the best they can. All manner of religion, political stances, and culture, smooshed together in a new frontier, all fueled by the hopes and dreams of a better, brighter future. Shooting cowboy style means something different to everyone... But that old west, the REAL old west, is what brings me here. We're gonna look different. We're gonna think different. But pards... isn't that America?
  12. A lot of the drop in death rate is due to the season. July - Oct we see more sunlight which does two things: gives our bodies vitamin D, and encourages us to go outside and move around more. Both help boost our immune system which helps us fight things off. That's why you don't really hear of anyone getting the flu during the summer, its possible but it wont hit as hard or spread as fast. Once fall hits, we start cozying up more which drops our vitamin D and makes us less active - hence, flu season. The moment it hit us in March, virologists predicted a drop in the summer and a second, larger, wave in November/December/January. So far we are on track with that prediction. It would follow all of the historical models as well. I wager it's not being played up much because right around the corner is another road hazard. I really do hope they are wrong, but better to be prepared for what won't happen, than caught with your pants down in a tornado.
  13. 100% this - best Blues and Soul piano can be found in New Orleans I wasn't alive in 1984 so that disqualifies me from having any other opinions in this thread lol
  14. ouch, sorry that happened to you Allie Mo. But that is good to know. I already have a tempermental ankle from an old sports injury so I'll keep an eye out!
  15. That's why I shoot 44-40 with the holy black. It sure isn't the fastest, but its the funnest and the most authentic (edit: for my guns). I already compete enough at work (and sometimes at home, Mrs Snakejaw is an attorney so she make a sport out of everything), sometimes the point is just to let go of the modern day and make some sparks with like minded folks.
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