The deformed Elephant God of Val Yu Village

 Ia! Ia! Cthulu fthagn!

Note the fleshy sucker like mouth at the end of the tentacle like snout; the ribby swept back 'ears', the reddish baleful eyes. The ringed lichen-like spots and the shiny black hooves complete the unearthly appearance of this strange small, crudely ( could we say devolved?) sculpture...

One of the great treats of junk shops is old books, and one of the greatest pleasures of old books is references to even older books.
I found a copy of Willy Leys book on cryptobiology - printed before the term even became fashionable, or possibly even coined.
Flipping it open, I immediately found the following footnote:

"'Another one, hardly known to naturalists, is described in an interesting book which privately printed in 1858. Its author was one Dr. L. Lewysohn, who called himself "Preacher of the Isrealitic Congregation of Worms." The title of the book is Zoologie des Talmuds (Zoology of the Talmud)..."

My practical side assumes them mean the city Worms, but its a pretty marvellous title to a English speaker.
'Prediger der israelitischen Gemeinde von Worms'?

Amazon claims I can buy a copy, but Amazon claims that of all apocrypha, and I haven't 85 pounds to spare in testing the theory.

I also found a copy of  ' The Frozen Stream, An Account Of The Formation And Properties Of Ice'  by Charles Tomlinson,  published by the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge. It has some fascinating anecdotes concerning fabulous cold:

'In St Petersburg...Every one is very uneasy about his nose and ears which are very apt to get frozen; and as the sufferer is not aware of his danger by any previous uncomfortable sensation, the first person in the street who observes a nose putting on the appearance of white marble,  exclaims "Sir! sir! Your nose! Your nose!" and taking up a handful of snow, applies it to the strangers face and endeavors , by briskly rubbing, to restore the circulation. these are salutations which people of accustomed to in such climates, and by which thousands of these valued organs are saved from the clutches of the frost.' (emphasis mine.)

"The bodies of whales have been found embedded in icebergs..."

Bizarrely, the chapters on refrigeration and ice making are practical and accurate, as well as his adventures on the Saint John River during the Canadian winter. Its the mundane chapters that make the seasoning of madness more piquant: in what mind could the salutation of  "Сэр! сэр! Ваш нос! Ваш нос!" followed by a face full of snow seem reasonable?

As always, my reason staggers.


 

Its all about the Whine

For practical reasons, I brew wines and beer.
A year ago, the chance congruence of a fifty pound bag of undesired squash, and a empty fermentor led me to try brewing a squash wine. This seemed like a reasonable idea; I checked around for recipes. I don't mind winging a recipe, but its always instructive to learn from others mistakes.
Oddly, the various books I have on wine-making did not have any squash wine recipes. These books have publication dates from 1899 to 2012, and include that ferment things from cherry pie filling to crushed chickens, so I was a little surprised by the omission.

The Internet wasn't much more informative.  The New Zealanders had tried it, but as near as I can tell, the fermentation enthusiasts in New Zealand have tried everything.

'Marrow Squash makes an insipid wine that is improved considerably by adding an ounce of grated ginger root; Zucchini Squash makes a very poor wine; Hubbard Squash makes a wine very similar to Pumpkin', Jack Keller remarks.



Hmmm thought I. Intriguing.

Most of the recipes I could find were heavy on spices and raisins; a trick I always felt really gave you a spiced raisin wine with whatever random additive-of-the-day.
Guided by this snotty sense of purism, I brewed

14 cups baked (then peeled and mashed) Green Queen Table Squash

3 kgs brilliant yellow sugar (which brought my S.G. to 1072)

Acid blend and diammonium phosphate in case my tiny yeasties lacked pep

and water sufficient to make 16 litres of brew.

Fermentation was swift to start - within two hours the gas cap was jumping, and everything seemed well.
After 20 days I transferred it off the pulp, and measured it at 900 S.G.
It had a strange taste. an initial sharp bite that faded instantly, followed by a faint flat , almost burnt metal aftertaste, difficult to discern, but equally difficult to ignore.
Age. I decided. This wine is young and unfriendly. Age will temper it.

A year has passed, and the temper has gotten worse. It has the brownish-gold shade of beer; the taste of dry white wine, and an aftertaste that is persistent and un-ignorable.
 One of my taste testers, who will  largely drink anything, including various 'prison hooch' style concoctions was  perfectly willing to pour his sample down the sink rather than finish it. I am not certain what went wrong here; perhaps baking the squash first rather than fermenting it raw?

Maybe a decade in the cellar will improve this...I will be interested to find out. Perhaps I shall do up some fancy labels, and use the bottles as handout gifts for people I don't really like.