Cooking in the West

There are a lot of sleep deprived ranch families trying to function at this time of year, because calving happens 24/7. I loved this story written by Tucker Luthan about his wife Andrea. The Luthans run a cow/calf and farming operation in Idalia, Colorado, and this story is priceless!

“A True Story from the Rafter TA” by Tucker Luthan

Cold wasn’t a strong enough word to describe what the mercury was trying to say. The wind had swept up snow in its rage and thrown it wherever it thought handy the way a misunderstood preschooler might rearrange his older sister’s precious dolls. The young to middle aged, in debt, heifer calvin’ rancher was running on lukewarm black coffee, adrenaline, and his kids’ Welch’s fruit snacks. He was a champion. But he caught a fever...imagine that!

He sat down on the edge of the bed, propped his head up with one hand while a dirty sock hung limp from the other. “Honey,” the lovely and just as in debt ranch wife said, “How ‘bout you just get a good night’s sleep tonight, and I’ll check the heifers every couple of hours so you can get some rest?”

He couldn’t remember anything about night calving heifers in her wedding vows over a decade ago, but it sure sounded good. With a half-hearted grin he said, “If anybody is calving just get ‘em in the barn. Wear plenty of clothes, and call me if you have troubles.” With those congested loving words, he was out like Smokey Bear’s campfire.

Her alarm went off. She scraped herself out of bed, wrestled her way into her favorite yoga leggins, and topped it off with a long sleeve shirt and chore jeans. She kissed her snorting husband on the cheek and headed toward the mud room. The cold air was clawing it’s way around the door seal as she slung her coat around her shoulders. Knowing that wasn’t going to be enough, she grabbed an old set of coveralls hanging on a coat hook. She finally got ‘em on by alternately jumping on one leg and using up all of her floor space like she was in “ginastics”…at least that’s what her 4th grade son still called it. The crotch hung down to her knees, but she didn’t care, as warmth was the name of the game.

She pulled on her muck boots and confidence, checked her pocket one more time for her cell phone, grabbed the flashlight like a Jedi, and with the power of Superwoman and stature of a penguin grabbed for the door handle.

She stumbled to the outside, the chill slapped her in the face, and she headed to the heavy pen. It was so cold Roper, the ranch dog, wouldn’t even go with her. He just looked at her from his cozy dog house like she was crazy.

At first assessment everything looked pretty good. The heifers were in a tight bunch using bovine heat as a blanket with heads half hung and some still chewing cud. She was making her way toward the corners of the heifer trap just to make sure she’d covered everything with her fine toothed comb and flashlight when the toe of her boot caught a well camouflaged mound of recycled and frozen mixture of alfalfa, wet distillers grain and water and down she went. Because of the nature of her evening attire, it wasn’t really with a “thud” as she was expecting. Irritated nonetheless and using the same process a beginner skier would use to erect herself after a fall on the moguls, she brushed herself off and was back on her feet and ready for action, when she saw it…

There. Under that heifer’s tail. Nope she hadn’t started calving yet, but there was darn good sign she was gonna calve. Tonight! “Just get her in the barn,” she said to herself and began the long waddling journey to set the series of gates required to get this young mother into the warmth of the stall. Gates set, she made her way back to the tight packed bunch of young cows to sort off tag #183. It turns out tag #183 didn’t want to be sorted off.

With all the skill of a free safety, cutting horse, kindergarten PE teacher, F16 fighter jet, and penguin; she made her move. The heifer in question took a few steps from the herd and then darted right back to the middle of the bunch like a floating electron trying to find its way home. The lovely ranch wife shivered and made another move. This time she got the heifer a little farther away before it ran back. She tried again. This time the heifer trotted in the general direction of the gate giving her a sense of accomplishment just to have it crushed as the heifer doubled back loping and crashing back into the small herd.

“I’ll show you!” She thought as she reached for her phone. She really didn’t want to have to call her husband--partly because she felt bad for her strong, brave, snuffling knight, but more because she didn’t want to be defeated like this. No answer.

“Poor guy must be sleeping hard,” she reckoned, “Ain’t no cow gonna best me--I’ll give it another go!” Another lap around the snow filled pen they went like a bad NASCAR dream. All at once a snowdrift combined with the binding affect of the crotch of her overalls on the mobility of her knees, which caused her feet to lose velocity that her upper body gained, and down she went. This time she didn’t care if she “thudded” or not! She was madder than a trapped coyote. She called her husband. No answer.

Around and around the pen, she chased the half-irritated, half-scared lump of beef. Snow sparkling in the strobes of a swinging flashlight being kicked up from cloven hooves and muck boots. Ducking and diving, changing direction, outsmarting and being outsmarted . . . the battle between a cowgirl and a girl cow commenced. Snot and slobber were being flung from both parties involved. Bellering and kicking, hollering and arm waving--it was an all out war!

“HONEY!” She screamed into the phone between puffs of steam, but there was no answer. She decided to try one more time. The heifer found the gate and headed up the alleyway into the working pens. With a little coaxing into the barn stall, she went like she was meant to be there. The exhausted ranch queen latched the gate and waddled through frigid air back toward the warmth of the house.

Back in the mud room, she reversed the wardrobe process. She had no energy left for “ginastics.” With a tired sense of pride and accomplishment and a loving smile on her face, she gently shook her husband from his slumber.

“Hey honey... I got a heifer in the barn. She’s got a real full bag and some stuff on her tail. She’s not calving yet, but I think she’s gonna tonight.”

“Ok thanks, Babe….uh what number is she?”

“Number 183.”

“Ah babe” his voice scratched. He sat up and looked at his amazing wife, the love of his life, the one God gave him, the one who completed him. “Thanks but she actually calved yesterday, and her calf died. I just hadn’t got her out of that pen yet…”

She whispered, “You…have…GOT…to be kidding me…”

Andrea was too busy and probably exhausted to send recipes, but she promised to send some in the future. In the meantime, I would like to run some good time saving recipes.

Crockpot Meatloaf:

1 lb. ground beef

1 lb. pork sausage

1 med. onion, chopped

3 slices bread, torn in small pieces or 1 C. bread crumbs

1 C. milk

2 eggs

Season to taste with Alpine Touch or salt and pepper

1/2 C. Ketchup

Line the crock pot with foil and spray the foil. Mix all ingredients except ketchup together and shape into a loaf inside the crock pot. Top with ketchup. Cook on low for 4 hours or until the internal temperature reaches 160 degrees.

Crockpot Pulled Pork:

1 lemon pepper seasoned pork loin or pork roast of your choice

12 oz. can Dr. Pepper

18 oz. bottle of your favorite barbecue sauce

6 burger or brioche buns

Put pork loin or roast in a crockpot and pour Dr. Pepper over top. Cook at least 7 to 9 hours on low. Remove meat and shred with a fork. Discard liquid in a crock pot. Stir shredded pork and barbecue sauce together and keep warm in the crockpot until serving.

Crockpot Lava Cake:

1 box Triple Chocolate Betty Crocker cake mix

1 1/4 C. milk

1/2 C. vegetable oil

3 eggs

Topping:

1 (4 serving) box chocolate instant pudding

2 C. milk

2 C. chocolate chips

Spray 6-quart slow cooker with cooking spray. In a large bowl, beat cake ingredients with an electric mixer for two minutes. Pour into a slow cooker. In a medium bowl, beat pudding mix and 2 C. milk with whisk as directed on box. Pour into a slow cooker over cake batter. Do not mix. Sprinkle chocolate chips over top. Place folded, clean dish towels under the cover of the cooker. This will prevent condensation from dripping down onto the cake. Cover and cook on Low heat setting 2 hours 30 minutes to 3 hours or until cake is set and pudding is beginning to bubble out of cake.