Zombie Apocalypse

If you don't know what I mean by zombie apocalypse, perhaps I shouldn't tell you. After all, we need some time to get away. Suffice to say that it could happen, and if it does, you should have a plan in place to ride it out.

The zombie apocalypse is a total gamechanger. For instance, they just built a Wal-Mart down the street from my parents. Normally, this is something that I would be uncomfortable with, but in the context of a Zombie apocalypse, having source of shotguns and morphine in a big, windowless, easily defended box suddenly becomes appealing. Now where are we going to get a helicopter?

As for me and BoW, our plan consists of a daring escape through the Tejon Pass, across the San Joaquin Valley, and into the foothills of the Sierras. Given the already zombie-like state of drivers going through The Grapevine on a getaway Friday, we're guessing we'll be doing it on bikes. Armed and laden with water, we'll loot whatever else we need from the bountiful sprawl of Bakersfield before heading for the hills proper.

But what to eat? While we may be hiding out in the breadbasket of the West, we will have to be somewhat self-reliant. Time to get back to American Classics. Pioneer food is not known for its delectability, but there had to be some produce of these wild lands that kept people around, right?

Monday I went to WFM to get some staples and some fresh fish for the meal. They had whole farmed rainbows, an inexpensive, responsible, and delicious choice. 

I remembered while I was inspecting the counter that we had been given some homemade jalapeño jelly by a friend who grew up in Bakersfield. This is the real deal. A beautiful, translucent green suspension of sweet and spice that is exactly what you'd expect it to be: delicious on cornbread

which they just happened to have a big ol' pile of right by the front door of WFM. I went back to pick some up, and as I handled the various pieces of yellow, dense styrofoam stacked Jenga-like on the display, I moved through a complex series of emotions, beginning with dissatisfaction, moving on to disdain, then disgust, embarrassment (for everyone involved), and culminating in the joy of knowing that I had the power to rise above this abomination through baking! In fact, except for the cheddar, I already had everything at home to make some really bitchin' jalapeño cheddar cornbread. It's so easy, I got the recipe off the bag of cornmeal. 

Setting aside a plate full of that same cornmeal and some flour for dredging, I filleted and seasoned the fish.

Two to three minutes per side in a mix of some canola oil and butter on med-hi heat leaves us with GBD fish.

Served with a side of green and wax beans, which will be awaiting some attention in the fields after the zombies claim the pickers, this meal gave us a warm feeling in our bellies, knowing that we can at least eat well for a little while when the grid comes down without having to resort to brains.