Skip to main content

Adventures in Catering: Martinez Style


I know it's been kind of quiet in the West Texas Mama blog world.....things have been busy - playing nurse, work at the paying gig, getting kids ready for school, etc.  But, this weekend provided WTM with an experience that must be documented for posterity's sake.

El Hubbo's skills with smoking briskets is becoming more historic with the passage of time.  A friend of ours from church asked us to help him "feed a few folks" for a dove hunt.  No big deal, a couple briskets, maybe some beans, potato salad.  "Something easy."

"No problem!" we said.  And, in deed, in our optimism, we felt this would be simple.  Then, the numbers started growing.....and growing......and growing.   We would potentially be feeding 75 people.  This had turned from a small, backyard cookout to a major catering operation!

In a sick, somewhat masochistic way, the planning of such a thing is something I love.  I break out the calculator, put the headings in my spreadsheet, and start the price comparisons.  I troll websites looking for information on serving sizes, check all the store websites for sales, etc.  I am a number nerd.  El Hubbo utilizes a more laissez-faire approach:  day before he started to think about the stuff he might need.  This is why he needs me in his life.

Our entire dining room became the Op Center for this project, as we started accumulating supplies:  Rotel, 20 lbs of dry pinto beans, season mixes (we have secret recipes we mix in bulk), bowls, picnic packs, paper plates, BBQ sauce ingredients, pounds of onions, jalapeños, a 42-Qt pot to cook the 20 lbs of pinto beans, 500 ft roll of aluminum foil, etc, etc.

We were to go to the ranch on Friday night, where El Hubbo would start the all-night brisket smoking process.  It was raining, which added to the adventure component of our first catering gig.  There were 17 folks scattered amongst two houses.....one of the homes was built on the property in 1915, and had a stove that I am estimating at approximately 60+ years of age.  But, don't let age fool you, that old gal could still cook!


We served breakfast:  Huevos Rancheros with homemade bacon tortillas....topped with homemade salsa (courtesy of sous chef Jake), fresh cilantro and queso fresco.

The men wandered about periodically attempting to shoot some dove, and when that failed, shoot clay pigeons over the canyon.  The girls had a "hen party".  The kids ran wild, convinced some of the younger adults to take them four-wheeling, and had a great time just being kids in the country.  It was wet and drizzly, but nice and cool, which was welcome after a hot Texas summer.

People rolled in all day, and by 4:30, we had almost fifty folks who had braved the weather.  The food was good, the company was great, and we all had a good time.

The brains behind the event:


Country kids:





Beautiful scenery:



Muddy rescue operation:


Friends and Fun:







Babies were popular entertainment:




Chowing down:






Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Texas, Our Texas!

Fires, tornadoes, drought, and now a hurricane.  It has been a rough time for our Lone Star State. I felt like she needed a love letter. Early in the year, fires in the panhandle had trucks come up the highways and interstates providing assistance to panhandle families who had lost family, herds, fences, and feed. Now, in the wake of Harvey, those trucks have been turned around, and the Panhandle sends them back full to the coastal families who now find themselves in need.  (Our mamas taught us you never return a dish empty.)  Our hearts ache for our fellow Texans on the coast.  We know too well the feeling of loss.   Regardless of the challenges ahead of us, we Texans generally manage to rise to the occasion.  We don't have time to worry about those things that really don't matter.  We have a job to do.  I'm proud of my state and her residents.  Those of us who trace our lineage back to the very founding of this Great State have had...

Medical Sparring

My father.  The infamous Oso.  The Bear. Just as when one is dealing with his spirit animal, one should always proceed with caution with my paternal parental unit.  Not everyone is ready for his wit and charm, but doctors in particular seem to struggle with quite how to deal with the man. In Oso's not-so-humble opinion doctors are by-and-large "quacks".  The many years of medical training they have is bunk, and they have no idea what they are talking about.  He has stretched the patience of more than one member of the AMA, leading one to proclaim my father "the most non-compliant patient I have ever seen."  And, this particular doctor used to be a prison doctor!  That statement actually exists in a medical chart.  It also happen to provide my father with a peculiar point-of-pride.  In his mind, this meant he won. With mom's passing, I have inherited the dubious honor of accompanying my father to the more important doctor visits.  W...

Sometimes, Life Ain't Fair

I generally try to keep my blog relatively light-hearted.  I poke fun at myself and my loved ones because I think it helps to keep perspective.  Sometimes we take ourselves too seriously, and we just need a reminder that life is pretty good in the grand scheme of things. But sometimes, life ain't fair. What follows is an honest, heart-felt post.  It will not be easy to read at times.  Consider yourself warned.  There are no such things as safe spaces in my world. Few outside of an FFA or 4H program understand "why" we show livestock.   Sadly, the concept of raising livestock, having any kind of inkling or understanding of how and where one's food comes from (besides the grocery store) is foreign to most, even some of you who follow this blog.  (I love you anyway, but sometimes I worry about you.) There is a fascination with our lifestyle, and I generally become the defacto ag teacher in work meetings as I explain what my kids were doing in rece...