My father-in-law is sweet. And when I say "sweet," I mean "totally awesome."
There is no fast food in my wife's family. They don't eat
McDonald's, Wendy's, or White Castle. They don't need Kroger,
Albertson's or Tom Thumb. That's because Bennie (or
"Wrestles-Bears-With-One-Hand" as he is known to the natives) hunts,
kills, guts, and smokes all the family meat. And this is no Texas
"hunting" where one hides in a camouflage tree-tent 100 feet from a
salt-lick waiting for a slow, stupid dear. This is
Bowie-knife-in-mouth, bare-hand-mountain-climbing,
only-take-one-bullet-with-you-cause-you're-such-a-good-shot hunting.
One time last fall, he fell down a thirty-foot cliff, broke a his fall
with his rifle (and his ribs), and still managed to take down five
buffalo and two caribou.
Today, I didn't have time to make a lunch before work. When I looked
in the fridge for something to grab, I saw that we still had some of
Bennie's salmon. This summer, in a torrential rain storm off the coast
off the coast of Oregon, he caught a load of deep-sea salmon (while
saving five baby seals). He took them home, slow-smoked them over 12
days, and hermetically sealed them for our use. I have had salmon
several times since the first time I had Bennie's Smoked Salmon, but
nothing has come close to the flavor and richness of his handiwork!
By the way, I should also mention the Bennie is a man of rare and
noble character. Amber tells me he was always a few minutes early to
work, left a few minutes late, and wouldn't even take a company pen
home to ensure he lived an honorable life. But he'd never tell you that
- he'd just kindly offer you some delicious smoked meat.