Keeping a Promise

By Keith Fisher

A week ago, I promised to post a picture of the Pioneer day party I cooked for. As you know I was so busy, there wasn’t time for taking pictures. My friend was having an extended family party and took a couple. Unfortunately, he didn’t get a shot of the large group of people. He did get two shots of me.

Before you ask, Yes, I was cooking barefooted. No, I don’t recommend it. You could drop coals on your foot or do like I did, and drop your windscreen on it. (If the steel had been thinner, it might have cut my foot off.) I cooked barefoot, because the grass is heavily watered turning it into a swamp if you stand in one place too long. I had to take my shoes off last year too. But this year I wore shorts so my pant legs wouldn’t get wet.

As I said, I don’t recommend cooking without shoes, however, My feet were so comfortable! The swamp provided cushion. The water kept my feet cool, and by extension, me. I recently cooked a large meal with shoes on and my back hurt, my feet hurt, It was terrible. I know—I’ll get Harry Potter to cast a spell of protection on my feet . . . Hmmm, It could work.

Win a Dinner with the Author

Win dinner with Mark L. Shurtleff at the Market Street Grill and a free copy of "Am I Not a Man? The Dred Scott Story"

Valor Publishing and Mark L. Shurtleff, Utah's Attorney General and the author of "Am I Not a Man? The Dred Scott Story" are excited to launch the following contest:

The first paragraphs in the "Am I Not a Man" The Dred Scott Story" echoes the cry of the oppressed and enslaved:

"To him, the river sang. It intoned but one word, repeated with every ripple, and lap, and tide. One word that began with a gurgle far to the North, crescendoed through the heart of a nation, and climaxed in the Deep South with such force that no power on earth could hold it back. One word that bled from every pore. One word: FREEDOM!"

The "Father of Waters" sang, not with the splash of waves lapping against the levee, for the Mighty Mississippi was wide, and thick, and slow. It slid like a solid mass of glacial mud that had been moving toward the sea since before the Fall of Adam. It was ancient by the time Moses led the Children of Israel out of slavery in Egypt. No, its melody was something more profound and ancient, and it harmonized with something deep inside Dred, and filled his very being so that he was powerless to ignore it. He turned toward the river, closed his eyes, and whispered the song of the slave."

To enter, please submit a 600-word essay on the concept of Freedom. Pay attention to your spelling and punctuation, and email your entry to the contests link at http://www.valorpublishinggroup.com. Our Selection Board will review the entries and select the winner, which will be announced here on our website on October 1, 2009 by 5:00 p.m. MST.

Prize: The winner will receive an autographed and personalized SPECIAL LIMITED FIRST EDITION of Am I Not A Man? The Dred Scott Story along with dinner for two with Mark L. Shurtleff, Utah State Attorney General, at the Market Street Grill in Salt Lake City, UT. (If the winner is located out of Utah, or otherwise not able to attend the dinner in Salt Lake City, a gift card will be awarded for a local restaurant.)

A quick announcement

I have an announcement for you.

Utah State Attorney General Mark Shurtleff’s ground-breaking new novel, “Am I Not A Man: The Dred Scott Story” is now available for preorder at a reduced price.

An illiterate slave, Dred Scott trusted in an all-white, slave-owning jury to declare him free. But after briefly experiencing the glory of freedom and manhood, a new state Supreme Court ordered the cold steel of the shackles to be closed again around his wrists and ankles. Falling to his knees, Dred cried, "Ain't I a man?" Dred answered his own question by rising and taking his fight to the U.S. Supreme Court.

Dred ultimately lost his epic battle when the Chief Justice declared that a black man was so inferior that he had "no rights a white man was bound to respect."Dred died not knowing that his undying courage led directly to the election of President Abraham Lincoln and the emancipation proclamation.

Dred Scott's inspiring and compelling true story of adventure, courage, love, hatred, and friendship parallels the history of this nation from the long night of slavery to the narrow crack in the door that would ultimately lead to freedom and equality for all men.

You can order your sale-priced, signed and numbered limited edition copy of “Am I Not a Man” by visiting http://www.valorpublishinggroup.com/ before Labor Day. There are only 5,000 copies of this special edition being printed and once they’re gone, they’re gone … and the sale price ends on Labor Day. You can request that Mark personalize your inscription, and your book will be mailed to you before the stores even get their copies. For more information, visit http://www.valorpublishinggroup.com/

Well Over 250

By Keith Fisher

I’ve been waiting for my friend to send me pictures to show you, but the Ward party went well. Remember, I mentioned, we were told there would be 250 people? There were many more.

We cooked four Pineapple glazed hams, Five batches in four pots of beans, five Turtle cakes, nine cobblers, and a pile of hotdogs. The line lasted for 35 minutes, and the ham ran out before the line did.

I promised to tell you about a new way to fix hot dogs. I’ve been making corn-on-the-cob in a water cooler for years. All you do is change the hot water once add butter and condensed milk. No fuss, and very little effort.

I wondered if it works for corn, why not hotdogs? I got several packages of hot dogs, put them in the cooler and added hot water, twice. They swelled up and were terrific. It not only worked but the ward loved them.

As you might imagine, I was as busy as a, one-armed paperhanger. If you’ve ever hung wallpaper, you know how busy that is. I didn’t get a single picture taken, however I have been promised copies of the ones my friend took. Maybe next time.

Did the Pioneers Make Lasagna?

By Keith Fisher

We were asked by our ward to cook on Pioneer day again this year. When you cook for your church group, It’s a good idea to cook something different each time. You don’t want people to think you’re a one-pot wonder. For that reason, we’ve been brainstorming.

Last year, we made Cheesy Potatoes, Barbecue Spareribs, Polynesian Chicken, Corn on the Cobb, and homemade Root Beer. I’ve been working on a couple of new lasagna recipes for this year, and I tried one for my critique group the other day. We’ve been planning, and counting, getting ready to make lasagna for 250.

So, we got the ingredients today. We’re making Three Pineapple glazed hams; two 15-inch pots of baked beans, nine cobblers and seven turtle cakes. I’ll let you know what happens.

On Sunday, I was asked what we planned to make. I said, "I’m not sure. Probably lasagna." He gave me a funny look and said, "Lasagna? That’s not very Pioneer-ish."

Well I had to admit that it wasn’t, but then again, neither is turtle cake. I was left to wonder about my choice. Then I was reminded that some Italian Mormon Converts immigrated to Utah too. As you might know, Pioneer day, in this state is for commemorating the day in 1847, when the bulk of the Mormon Pioneers entered the Salt Lake Valley.

I suppose that since meat was in short supply back then, I should make vegetable stew, and corn bread. Fruit cobblers would be out of the question.

If the truth were told, I bet our ancestors watch us celebrate with hamburgers, and hot dogs and wish they’d had food like that. I also think my ancestors will see the hams I’m making, and their spirits will salivate. If disembodied spirits could do that kind of thing.

My saving grace, I guess, is the baked beans. Pioneers had them. Of course I use two different kinds of meat and four different kinds of beans in mine, along with fresh bell peppers and onions.

Oh well, with all my romantic notions, I guess I’m really just a twentieth century guy after all. At least I cook like a nineteenth-century cook with my cast iron pots . . . uh, well, if it weren’t for the charcoal briquettes, my propane starter, and my steel cooking table.

Okay never mind. I hope you can use your Dutch ovens on Friday. Make your ancestors proud. It might help you appreciate what they went through.

Oh, I'm also trying something new with hot dogs. Let you know how that comes out too.

Catching Up

By Keith Fisher


Wow, what a summer this has been. Cooking Dutch oven and life changes have kept me busy but that’s not the reason I haven’t kept up with my blog. When I was writing this for yourLDSneighborhood, I had a deadline to meet. When the deadline disappeared, the procrastination started.


I must apologize to all you good people who follow my blog. I raise my little finger in the air and pinky swear that I will be better.


So, what should we talk about today? Over the past month, I have cooked a lot of Dutch oven. We cooked for the teachers on the last day of school, the young men, at the commemoration celebration. We cooked two pots for the family on Independence Day.


The pictures we took can be found at the links above. How is your summer? What have you cooked? Send an email or leave a comment. Next week, I’ll write something informative---see you next week.

Memories and Metal Pots

By Keith Fisher


Several years ago, our government set aside one day a year, specifically designed to remember those who died in the service to their country. Since then, Memorial Day has evolved into so much more.


Now, it’s a day to remember all our loved ones who’ve passed away. It’s a day off from work, a three-day weekend. The first real warm day to get outside.


In my family, we used to set aside part of the weekend to visit all the dead ancestors and place flowers on their grave. When my Grandfather died, my mother inherited his list. Grandpa visited every grave he knew about and since he raised peonies to sell, he gave the extras to his ancestors and placed color on their graves.


A few years ago, we started a tradition in my father’s family. After placing flowers on Grandpa’s grave, We’d go to the family home and visit. A picnic would ensue on Grandma’s front lawn. There were times over the years, when camping and fishing were the order of the day, and vacations were sometimes planned during that time, but we always migrated back to family members and the comforting feeling of being connected.


This year will be different for me. It’s the first Memorial Day since my father died. His headstone has been placed, waiting for the onslaught of those who miss him. I took a picture last year of Mom and Dad at his father’s grave. Who knew that we would be visiting him this year?

I’ve witnessed some interesting traditions practiced in cemeteries over the years including big family picnics on the grave. I’ve seen "super sized" fast food left on graves. Candy, letters, pictures, and solar walkway lights. The latter gave me cause to wonder for awhile when I passed the cemetery on the way home from my writers critique group.


I stopped one day, and discovered the lights. What a great idea, I thought. It was a nightlight in case the deceased woke in the middle of the night in unfamiliar surroundings. I guess it could be interpreted as an eternal flame?

Whatever your tradition, make your front yard the one everyone stops at. Start cooking in the morning. If you get the word out, they will show up, and you will be the host of a great party. Everyone will remember those who have passed. And they will remember you for the great food you cooked.

By the way, you’re invited to come to the Camp Chef DOG (Dutch oven gathering) It’s a pot luck party so come and cook something. June 6, at the Campchef plant in Logan, Utah. Address and more info to follow.