Cooking and The Mountain: Part I

And we're back. Sorry for the absence of any substantial postings in the past week but I took a bit of a vacation to Vacationland (that's Maine for those of you who don't know their state license plate slogans).

Besides cooking and photography, I am passionate about camping/backpacking/hiking. I've been doing it for over two thirds of my life (I am now moving to a fractional system when I talk about extended periods of my life ... it beats saying 20 years) and even spent two summers guiding wilderness trips in northern Maine. I'm happiest when I have a full backpack and heading to a remote mountain lake to camp.

Backpacking presents its own challenges when it comes to preparing meals. Toting pots, pans, knives, and (literally) the kitchen sink are not an option ... unless you are a Sherpa or have access to a Jackass (the kind of donkey, not your obnoxious friend). Sure dehydrated meals (think space ice cream without the novelty) are available that (supposedly) provide all the necessary calories and sodium needed for complete replenishment and just require adding hot water. But the consistency of these meals is typically a thick paste that lacks any form of the meal it is supposed to be. And then there is the flavor ... well, let's just say that if you advertise two seemingly polar opposite meals, Jamaican jerk chicken and seafood chowder for example, you should be able to differentiate the two by taste.

Despite my complaints about this food, it was the norm for my trips up until a few years ago when my friend Stephan and I (two engineers in graduate school) decided to experiment. We were definitely forced to eat some bad creations (canned shrimp comes to mind), but now each trip features at least a couple of classics that are still being perfected and a couple of new additions. When he, his brother, and I went up to hike Mt. Katahdin in Baxter State Park for a long weekend, we took full advantage of the allowance of a fire (a luxury in most parks) and continued our experiments.

We pulled in late on Friday evening and within minutes of setting up our tents, it began to rain; a tradition for us - no camping adventure is complete without rain. (Just for the record, I was camping at the bottom of the Grand Canyon and it rained.) Nevertheless we managed to get a fire going which was all we needed to get that night's dinner going: beer brats with green peppers and onions. This recipe is adapted from one of my favorites that my parents made on a regular basis when I was growing up. You can make it on a grill or in the kitchen on a winter day. It works nicely in the backcountry too.


Dice 1 green pepper and 1 onion. Place in foil pouch (double up some foil and fold it so that it can hold liquid). Pour 1/4-1/2 a can of beer into pouch and seal edges and corners. Set on fire for 30-45 minutes until pepper and onion are soft. Meanwhile, grill brats on fire grate.

This presumes 1) that you have a fire grate (another luxury not always avaiable) and 2) that you hiked in with beer. If there is no fire grate, put the brats in with the peppers and onions and place the pouch on hot coals (read: not directly in the flame ... you want nice consistent heat). They will cook nicely and all the flavor will be trapped. If you don't have beer, use water and definitely put the brats in with the peppers and onions for the additional flavor.

And oh yeah, that's a can of baked beans on the fire. Cook 'em if you got 'em.

If you do hike in with beer (or have some at the campsite), just be careful not to drink too much. Because being like this


before you hike up this


is never fun. Part II coming soon ...