Showing posts with label Bats. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bats. Show all posts

Saturday, December 28, 2013

A BAT ON NOB HILL

The night I dined on Italian sausage with Shanghai bokchoy over pasta, while coming home along Washington Street I saw a bat. And that made me rather happy. You see, bats are rare in the city. Years ago I had occasionally observed some of them swirling and swooping around the lanterns on a block nearby, but it has been a while.

And, as you might very well shper, the middle of winter is not optimal bat sighting time.

[The Italian sausage was grilled in a hot pan, then removed to cool and for the juices to "recompose". Slivered ginger was briefly seethed, then the Shanghai bokchoi was added in two stages to that pan; chopped pale crunchy parts first, shredded leafy parts later. After that the sausage and cabbage were briefly combined, with a glop of lemon grass sauce, manufactured by Lee Kum Kee in Hong Kong. Hot sauce (home made, no link) and a smoodge of shrimp paste were stirred in, and the amalgam was dumped over al dente rotini. I knew you were curious.]


I am quite fond of bats. Entirely aside from their lamentable habit of relieving themselves all over themselves, because they are hanging upside down, and too darn comfortable to get up (down) and go fly over some pigeons.

After seeing the little fellow flitting around, I stayed on that stretch of street for a while, hoping that he would return. Maybe he did, but if so, too quick and flickety to notice. Especially after the sun had set.

[People who read Chinese will understand why I wanted a peach while standing there, and also why I then remembered a story by the Master of the Five Willows (陶潛 Tou Chim, 365 – 427 CE) at that time.]


The weather these past few days has been very nice, for this season.
I've opened a tin of a pipe-tobacco I smoked at the same time last year, the fragrance of which one year or so ago prompted intense memory replays, made more vibrant because of the nicotine level. Greg Pease's navigator has increased in fruitiness after nearly twelve months of age, but the subtle sting of a fire-cured leaf is still perfumily present.
Nicotine is a stimulant, and works on the memories.
There is no connection to peaches.
But yet there is.




I prepared dinner long after coming home. I would have enjoyed another pipefull after that, but it was rather late. And, because of an apartment mate who is, remarkably, not into bats, I would have had to step outside to enjoy it. There is little fun wandering around in the chilly dark night, by oneself, and not even able to see the bats.
Though one might hear them.





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Friday, July 19, 2013

IF YOU DON'T, THEY WILL SAG

While one is growing up, the adults in one's life will supply one with all manner of advice. Some of it less than useful. Which, really, one would rather they wouldn't; one's peers already perform that service most magnificently.

Food, culture, coffee, tea, tobacco, cheating on exams, sexual matters, and alcohol are all part of the informative programme. It may take years to get all the mis-information out of one's head.


One priceless bit of nonsense delivered in all seriousness by several individuals who were convinced of its truthfulness was the datum that IF you went out at night without a hat, and you had long hair, bats would get entangled on your head, and you'd have to cut them out.
I suspect that in the day and age when European country folk were unwashed, that may have occasionally happened, what with the fleas, lice, flies, and moths, swirling in a dense cloud around the village virgin. But since the advent of soap and luke-warm water it cannot have been an issue of any magnitude. Besides, insectivorous bats zero-in on their prey using sonar, so they would easily be able to tell the difference between a moth (edible) and a peasant-girl (inedible), no matter how empty her little head.
They are very clever fliers, too.
It just wasn't credible data.
Except to simple minds.

I'll admit that it was fun on occasion to tell the bat thing to a young lady who was credulous enough to believe it. Then mentioning that one had several well-trained pet bats (a complete lie), that the last victim was now wearing a wig, and finally offering to bring the beasts to visit the hatless girl, why, the reactions were most gratifying!


My dad was able to deliver utterly unreliable bits of knowledge to Tobias and me with a completely straight face. Far better than I was capable of doing then, and even now. During the several years when we were the only people around the kitchen table, those statements would crop up after dinner was over, and I never learned to read from his expression whether it was true or complete horsepuckey. Several times my brother Tobias would turn green upon hearing it, and I would brightly absorb the information, till the logical corollary cropped up and I realized that I had been had.
My dad, as the reputed roué of Beverly Hills High before the war, was surely a man with plenty of worthwhile advice regarding the opposite gender.
I should avidly listen to his words and learn from his wisdom.
Problem was that he wanted us to stand on our own two feet.
Learn from actual investigation, not hearsay.
And he was always circumspect.

I knew from things I had heard from other people over the years that he had been a lively young man, and after he returned from bombing the Germans he had cut quite a swathe. He could have been an instructive example to his sons, except that he himself seldom gave any juicy details of his adventures, other than to mention that once a charmingly zesty woman in Panama had offered to provide him with room, board, cigarettes, and five dollars whiskey money per day.
Panama sounded like an exciting place.
They have a canal there.
It's famous!

A certain perfume reminded him of her.


It's probably a darn good thing he never had any daughters. It would have made him even more "diplomatic". And riotously straight-faced.
I can well imagine him retailing the bat and hair nonsense (as good a reason for young ladies to stay home after dark as any), along with the warnings about beer ("grows hair on your chest"), eye-shadow ("made from dead weasels"), immodest clothing ("itchy prickle burs in your nethers"), drugs ("pimples!") and several other cautionary untruths.
Things every young person believed at the time.
Knowledge, even if wrong, is power.
Although whose is the issue.

Oh, and always sit upright. Good posture is everything, and proper young ladies should not slump or splay their legs in public.

If you do, your breasts will sag.





Actually, almost anything leads to sagging breasts, NOT just slumping and bad posture. Going out after dark, beer, eye-shadow, dead weasels, short skirts, prickleburs..........
Basically, everything except pipe tobacco.
I'm an adult, I can say these things.
And I know all about sagging.


Boys! Boys especially lead to saggy tits. Stay away from boys!
You know what's good for you. If you don't, they will sag.


Trust me.



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Saturday, May 26, 2012

CONTEMPLATING YOUR WEASEL

The other day during lunch I was reading something on Wikipedia, when I noticed a clickable link that looked fascinating.
You may have noticed from previous entries here that I have an affection for small animals, right?
So you will readily understand why a link entitled 香港哺乳動物 automatically pulled me in.

[香港哺乳動物 Heung Kong po-yu dung-mat: "Fragrant Harbour Nipple-feeding critters"; mammals of Hong Kong.]

Okay then. Nipple feeding. I too am in origin a nipple-feeder. And of course, so are you - assuming that you aren't some creepy space-alien reading this blog on a tentacle-held portable module.
Nipples.  Nice.

Nipple-feeding. It's instinctive.
It explains our affinity for breasts, probably also why I like small animals.

The article first informed me that there's a large number of different kinds of bats in Hong Kong.

[翼手目 yik sau muk: 'wingspan-handed category':  棕果蝠 (jung gwo fuk: palm fruitbat),  短吻果蝠 (duen man gwo fuk: short-snouted fruitbat),  褐山蝠 (hot saan fuk: grey hill bat),  東亞家蝠 (dung ngaa gaa fuk: East-Asian family bat),  灰伏翼 (fui fuk fuk: ashy crouching bat),  扁顱蝠 (pin lo fuk: flat skull bat),  褐扁顱蝠 (grey tablet bat),  中黃蝠 (jung wong fuk: central yellow bat),  長翼蝠 (cheung yik fuk: long winged bat),  大長翼蝠(daai cheung yik fuk: greater long winged bat),  南長翼蝠(naam cheung yik fuk: southern long winged bat),  中華鼠耳蝠 (jung wa syu yi fuk: the Chinese mouse-eared bat),  大足鼠耳蝠 (daai juk syu yi fuk: the big foot mouse-eared bat),  毛腿鼠耳蝠 (mou teui syu yi fuk: the furry-thighed mouse-eared bat),  霍氏鼠耳蝠 (fok si syu yi fuk: Horsefield's mouse-eared bat),  喜山鼠耳蝠 (hei saan syu yi fuk: happy mountain mouse-eared bat),  水鼠耳蝠 (sui syu yi fuk: water mouse-eared bat),  小蹄蝠 (siu tai fuk: lesser horseshoe-nosed bat),  大蹄蝠 (daai tai fuk: greater horseshoe-nosed bat),  小菊頭蝠 (siu kuk tau fuk: little chrysanthemum-headed bat),  中菊頭蝠 (jung kuk tau fuk: medium chrysanthemum-headed bat),  魯氏菊頭蝠 (lo si kuk tau fuk: Roux's horseshoe-nosed bat),  黑鬚墓蝠 (hak so mou fuk: dark-whiskered tomb bat),  皺唇犬吻蝠 (jau seun huen man fuk: the wrinkle-lipped dog-snout bat).]

I didn't know there were that many bats there. Far more than we have.
Naturally I feel jealous. Why should they have so many bats?
But we're semi-arid, whereas they are warm and wet.
Warm and wet is very important.
Bats think so too.

Among their other animals are the Andaman rat (印支林鼠 yan-ji-lam syu), the bandicoot (大板齒鼠 daai paan chi syu: 'great plank-toothed rat'), and the South-East Asian porcupine (馬來豪豬 ma-lai hou chyu: 'Malaysian hero pig').


黃腹鼬

But what really caught my eye was the yellow-bellied weasel (黃腹鼬 wong fuk yau).


It's a weasel with soft creamy yellow stomach fur, distant relative of the badger and the otter. Weasels have been horribly maligned in Wind In The Willows.
They're actually extremely likeable creatures.
Cute, fierce, wriggly, and playful.


Yes yes, granted that they're carnivores. Which means that many other excruciatingly cute beasties are their natural prey. Including peace-loving vegetarians and adorable baby chicks. But if it weren't for weasels - joyful, warm, wriggly meat eaters - we'd be awash with desperate bunny rabbits, angry little birdies, mice, rats, chipmunks, and chihuahuas.
Our planet would be overwhelmed.
Nobody likes chihuahuas.
Chihuahuas=icky.

Wouldn't you rather have a weasel?


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Wednesday, January 25, 2012

BENEFITS OF LIVING ON A PACIFIC ISLAND

I pointed out to a friend that there are great advantages to living far from the hurly burly of civilization.
Specifically, thousands of miles from the nearest freeway.


Gefilte fish! One can make gefilte fish with reef fish!
Gefilte fish and challah...... breakfast of champions!


This pursuant a mention of the beautiful pacific island nation of Palau.

Her reaction was not as positive as one might have hoped.

Quote:
Giant flying cockroaches the size of a human thumb.
Lizards on the ceiling.
Whimsical electric power.
Grey chocolate at astronomic prices
2 months to get mail.
No phone for a full year.
Getting a wisdom tooth pulled in a third world dental clinic!

End quote.

Well, yes, those ARE valid issues, I grudgingly admit.
But they do have beer there, and interesting things in the grocery store with which to experiment.
Not only Spam.
Other stuff.

Didn't you at one point try fermented tofu?


I also have it on good authority that the local fauna can go straight into the soup tureen for dinner. So there's no dearth of protein sources.
A balanced diet is almost guaranteed!


ROUSETTE À LA PALAUÂNE

From a friend comes this scrumptious dish sure to be a crowd pleaser at any party - braised fruitbat in tomato and coconut milk with garlic and ginger, black peppercorns, and a dash of palm wine vinegar.
Serve with boiled rice, and some cassava croquettes on the side.
It's a feast!
[Note: modified from the original, to fit your healthy Pacific lifestyle.]

One fruitbat, cut into eight pieces.
One large onion, thinly sliced.
3 to 5 cloves garlic, crushed.
1 thumblength smashed ginger,
½ Tbs. whole Ponape pepper corns.
½ tsp. each: paprika, ground cumin.
4 Tbs. olive oil, plus one extra tablespoon.
1 can (14 ounces) plum tomatoes, drained and chopped.
1 cup chicken stock.
1 cup coconut milk.
2 Tbs. palm vinegar (sukang paombong, available at Philippino stores).
Salt to taste.

Rinse the bat well and pat the pieces dry. Combine the garlic, ginger, paprika, and cumin in a bowl, with one tablespoon of olive oil. Rub this mixture all over the meat, and leave to penetrate for an hour or overnight in the refrigerator.

Heat the four tablespoons of olive oil in a pan, add the onion slices, fry golden and translucent. Remove with a slotted spoon and set aside.

Add the bat to the pan and fry on low heat till lightly browned. Return the onion to the pan, add the pepper corns, stir in the tomato and stock, and bring to a boil.
Lower the heat, cover, and simmer for forty five minutes.
Stir in the coconut milk and add the palm vinegar. Continue to simmer, uncovered, for a further fifteen minutes or so, until the fruitbat is tender and the sauce has thickened.
Garnish with some fresh cilantro, and serve.


Alternatively, the following sophisticated treatment is sure to please visiting mainlanders, and impress them with the high standards of your kitchen.


CHRISTIAN MISSION STEWED BAT

One fruitbat, cut into eight pieces.
One onion, chopped.
Two rashers of bacon, chopped.
3 to 5 cloves garlic, crushed.
1 thumblength ginger, smashed.
2 cups chicken stock.
1 cup dry red wine.
1 tsp. brown sugar.
½ tsp. each: dried rosemary, dried thyme.
2 or 3 bay leaves.
Dash of Tabasco.
Salt and ground pepper.

Rinse the bat well and pat the pieces dry. Cook the bacon evenly brown in a large skillet. Drain on paper towels and reserve. Sprinkle your bat with salt and pepper, brown it in the rendered bacon fat. Remove from skillet and set aside.

Fry the onions, garlic, and ginger in the skillet for about 4 minutes, until tender. Be careful not to burn the garlic. Stir in wine and chicken stock. Raise to boil, then stir in sugar, rosemary and thyme, and add the bay leaves and the dash of Tabasco. Return both the bat and the bacon to skillet. When it boils, reduce the heat to low and let simmer about an hour or until the fruit bat is tender.

With a slotted spoon remove the fruitbat pieces from the skillet to a platter. Discard the bay leaves.

The cooking liquid can either be cooked down till velvety as a sauce, or two tablespoons light brown roux can be stirred in to make a gravy.

Serve over boiled rice, with a crisp green salad on the side.
Cabernet is appropriate, or even a robust Pinot Noir.
Merlot is easily overwhelmed by this hearty dish.


FURTHER COOKING WITH BATS

You could als do a Country Captain with fruitbat, and many other American regional recipes can be adapted for memorable dining.
However, Southern fried fruitbat is NOT a good idea.
Try them grilled with barbecue sauce instead.
Aux baies de genièvre, or à l'estragon.
Excellent fricasseed Cajun-style.
Jambalaya or étouffée?
Experiment!



NOTE: some folks might object that fruitbats look too cute, they couldn't possibly eat such lovable and cuddly creatures! How heartrending!
That explains why you should disguise the animal first.
Perhaps this way: "dressed for success".
Cooking is a creative process.
Bon appétit!



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Thursday, May 27, 2010

FABULOUS FLYING FUR

As a child I was fascinated by bats. This was a fascination that came about gradually, first prompted by several comic strips, then by some wonderful books about the natural world which my mother had ordered from Blackwell's in England - source of reading material for many transplanted English speakers in the distant frontiers and among the hairy savages.

For several years, whenever another book about bats appeared, I would anxiously await the new shipment from Oxford.
Oddly, such a thing didn't happen often. Not nearly enough.


Eventually I moved on to bigger and better things. Pipes and tobacco. Mediaeval history. Kurt Weil & Bertold Brecht. The age of the Celts. Charlemagne and his paladins. Genghiz Khan. The brutal exploitation of innocent artistic natives by bloodthirsty Europeans during the colonial age.
Still, bats continued to fascinate.


There are at least two bats that live in my neighborhood. After twilight on their street they emerge from the crevasse between two buildings, and fly up and down the block hunting for food. Occasionally I will stand on the corner and observe them for a while.

I think these are Myotis of some sort. Myotis lucifugus? It's the ears, you see. And the colouration. Plus the fact that the nose is snoutlike, rather than rhinolophidous.
There is also a fully membraned tail which can be used to flip a wily bug up towards the mouth.
Little brown bats (Myotis lucifugus) and related species eat insects - flies, mosquitoes, gnats, moths, etcetera. They are quite voracious.

Yesterday evening there were three of them. Two larger, one smaller.

Bats in the temperate zone mate in autumn, the single infant is born in spring.
Both of the larger bats may have been female - often pregnant females congregate in a maternity roost, but if only a few of them inhabit a locale, this may not be possible.

This has been a rather wet spring, which guarantees far more pests than usual.

I, for one, would like to welcome junior to the neighborhood, and congratulate his (her?) doting mother on this happy event.
Mazel tov!
May their tribe increase.

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GRITS AND TOFU

Like most Americans, I have a list of people who should be peacefully retired from public service and thereafter kept away from their desks,...