Short version: production is ticking along nicely, a new experimental variety going into play, a reminder on special requests, and Ambassadors.
So, first off the the pre-order slots for the production window ending June 10th are now up. To be honest, everything is gonna ship by the 9th as I have a wedding to be the best man at on the 10th, but there you go, slots are up. Order away at your leisure.
I’ve received a lot of special production requests lately which, production schedule permitting, I’m happy to entertain. In general, I am willing to do custom request BBotE for people if I can fit it in, you’re willing to make an order for at least 3L of BBotE to make it worth doing the batch, and are willing to accept the caveat that I’m making a batch for you with no idea how it’s going to turn out. For example, the original special request runs of Jamaican Blue Mountain was a bit more than double the normal price, but I’m told the resulting BBotE was worth dipping cigars instead of cognac. On a somewhat less classy end, I’ve cranked out a couple dozen liters of Dunkin Donuts BBotE because people asked and I hate saying no to people seeking the caffeine of their youth. If you’re providing me with beans, I’ll knock something off the total to compensate for that. All you need to do is drop me an email and ask and we’ll figure out how to make a special run happen.
Now, that said, I have a special run that I did for Test Subject Bonner of Nicaraguan from his favorite roaster, Recreo. Unlike most roasters, they’re effectively a tied house source back to their family farm in Nicaragua. In many posts over the last 7 years, I’ve related how much of a sucker I am for Central American coffees and Recreo didn’t disappoint. Interesting honey/toffee flavor that was consistent and solid. I’m thinking of adding it to the repertoire, so I’ve made a limited run of 375ml bottles of it you can buy here. If it’s well received, who knows, maybe it will become a regular offering. I know Test Subject Bonner would be thrilled with that.
On a related note, another Test Subject has raised his hand in hopes of finding a good Ecuadorian medium roast for BBotE purposes. I checked in with my usual roasters and came up empty handed. If you have a recommendation of an Ecuadorian coffee you’d like me to take a stab at, please drop me a line.
On the BBotE Ambassadorial front, I’m sad to report the Justin in Toronto has has to step down from the post. Life happens to the best of us. The Ambassador of Chicago has just cleared his stock out and assembling new requests, much like the Caffeinatrices of Portland and Boston. Ambassador Vernon of Santa Barbara just got a restock. Ambassador Karl in down in Perth would like to clear his last few remaining bottles so out so he can get a new order in and get the special swag his next case will have. If you’re local to one of them drop a line and make a friend who has access to cheaper than normal shipping prices BBotE :).
Lastly, if you follow me on twitter you have noticed I have found a new obsession which is making rather silly safety signs. If you’ve been grumbling wondering where Part II of the 2017 Atomic Heritage Roadtrip is, well, that time and creativity has been absorbed into signs. I’ve included an examples here. Don’t worry, I can’t resist talking about radiation for long.
But, in the meantime, if you’re jonesing for more nukechat, may I recommend following my friend Martin Pfeiffer’s patreon who had a guest starring role in 2017 Atomic Heritage Roadtrip Part I? As a starving grad student, he would prefer to starve less but also continue playing in the archives and doing his research into how the weapons program sold itself to the government and the public.
Here, have another safety sign for good measure and catch you next time!
Well, I’ve now stood on my second nuclear weapon ground zero. (the first I did on this trip)
April 1st was the Trinity Test Site open house, one of the two times a year that the White Sands Missile Range opens up to allow the public to visit. They used to open it up on the test anniversary date as well but, funny thing, people seem to have a hard time in the middle of the desert in mid-July. Heatstroke used to be part of the Trinity experience, which is why they have since moved the open house dates to the first Saturday in April and October. It also happened to be close enough to My Lovely Assistant’s birthday that we decided to make a roadtrip of it and collect a few more locations on the way. This first means flying to Albuquerque and, luckily, I already have operatives in place there.
In the long long ago, in the beforetime, Albuquerque was the administrative center for the nuclear weapons program. It’s where the Atomic Energy Commission sited their main office for the western half of the country; close enough to run up the hill to Los Alamos as needed, but a more transportation friendly place to, for example, bring personnel in for polygraph tests. The office is still there, but is now held by the Department of Energy/National Nuclear Security Administration (NNSA, not to be confused with NSA or NASA) and associated with Kirtland Air Force Base. Like any place that is important for long enough, they accumulate crap. Did I say crap? I meant to say “Smithsonian-grade museum archival materials”. And much like the old office and it’s archives in Las Vegas gave rise to the National Atomic Testing Museum (NATM), the Albuquerque office and Kirtland AFB spawned that National Museum of Nuclear Science & History. We decided to go hit this on the day before visiting Trinity.
It is always worth having a docent with you in these museums to point out the things you might have missed and give you the extra details that the placards are missing. In this case, we had University of New Mexico anthropology grad student, Martin Pfeiffer as our guest docent for the day. Martin’s research, among many things, involves how the nuclear weapons complex sold itself as safe and necessary to the public, to recruit prospective employees, and most importantly, to appropriators and procurement people with the purse strings. This means he spends A LOT of time going through magazine archives for advertisements from the 1950s & 1960s that are Jet Age/Mad Men masterpieces at their weirdest. Because take a moment, lean back in your chair, take a contemplative sip from your beverage of choice, and ask yourself “How would I sell nukes?” It’s a non-trivial one and that’s why he’s getting a anthropology PhD. I recommend any number of market research firms hire him promptly. Hell, hire him now and supplement the embarrassingly low grad student stipends that UNM pays.
Now you might ask how is NMNS&H different than the NATM. I can sum that up easily in two words: Delivery Systems. Where Vegas focuses on the work that happened at the Nevada Test Site, AKA blowin’ shit up real good, Albuquerque would like to tell you about all the weapons systems that Sandia built and Kirtland maintained. This means that it is bigger, because you need room for all that stuff and a lot of it isn’t small fiddly bits. We’re talking missiles and bombs of various size, and when you get to the big stuff, like planes, you have to go outside which is when I got incredibly giddy because they have a rocket garden. You see, I’m originally from Cocoa Beach, FL which means Kennedy Space Center was very easy to go visit on a whim. In particular, when I was little, before they fenced them all off and demanded you pay first, I constantly demanded that my parents take me to the KSC Rocket Garden to have a picnic under the X-15.
NMNS&H’s rocket garden, however, is all about delivery systems and I’ve never seen a collection like this before. Thor, Mace, Polaris, BOMARC, Titan, Snark…so many missiles. Looking at a Titan II on its side and getting close to the nose cone where the warhead would have gone, all you have to do is change the payload from military to civilian and you’ve got NASA’s Gemini program instead. Then there’s the bombs too large to fit in the building like the Mk17.
I want to pay special attention this bomb in the wake of the recent use of a MOAB in Afghanistan and the reporting that accompanied it that has some semantic problems around the phraseology “biggest bomb we’ve got”. “Big” can refer to physical size, or weight, or explosive yield (which is often related to but not on a 1:1 basis to weight and size). The 11 ton MOAB has greater explosive yield, but the MOP (Massive Ordnance Penetrator) is more massive at 15 tons, using that weight to sink through dirt, rock, cement before exploding with it’s smaller yield, but in the place you need it. As one weapons engineer once described it to me, “It’s puttin’ ass behind that blast.” The Mk17/24 bomb is the most massive bomb, nuclear or otherwise, that America ever made though only the second largest yield. The Mk41 holds that record at a 25MT yield, with it’s intended mission of obliterating hardened underground facilities by collapsing them with force from above, but only weighed a quarter as much as this 20 ton monster. Per pilot anecdote, when you dropped a Mk17/24 it wasn’t so much that that you’d released a bomb as the bomb had released you, with the plane rapidly jumping up in altitude.
Albuquerque was also home to a broken arrow incident with one of the Mk17s, as one accidentally got dropped from a bomber near Kirtland AFB when someone leaned against the wrong button on their B-36 as they headed back to base. Luckily, it wasn’t properly armed so just the conventional explosives went off on impact, terminally inconveniencing one cow rather than removing New Mexico’s largest city. The Army cleaned up the wreckage and decon’d the radiological contamination but, well, the Army is the Army, which is mostly made up of surly teenagers and twentysomethings that don’t really want to be there. If you look hard enough while hiking around in the hills you can find bits of the bomb they missed, which is something Martin did and is why my curio cabinet now contains a few fragments. To be fair, they are small fragments because it blowed up real good and even the Army can manage to notice and clean up large chunks.
We then got the pleasure of beers and fine New Mexican cuisine afterward. Courtesy of my other New Mexicans I had already learned the joys of what I refer to as New Mexican Background Chile Levels; there will always be some, the question is how much spicier would you like it above and beyond that. My personal spicy preference tends toward hot mustards and horseradish, not capsaicin, as my recent experiments with “chemical weapon bagels” will attest to. That said, New Mexico has made a convert of me with pork adovada. That was heavenly, I was lusting for more of it while at the Trinity Test Site, and as I’m sure friends will attest to, I have been whining about it’s absence from my life here in California ever since.
Next time: Trinity Test Site, Titan Missile Museum, and… umm… a discussion of the Jefferson Davis Highway.
[NOTE: This tale is originally occurred before Easter 2009]
At work on Thursday, my co-worker asked me what my holiday plans were for Easter. I told him that I’d be going down to see my folks and eat some delicious ham. A puzzled look crossed his face and he asked, “Phil, why is it considered normal to eat ham on Easter?”
I replied with a completely deadpan delivery, “Because after Jesus was crucified and entombed, his followers went on a rampage and killed the Pharisees with pork legs. This is also why observant Jews consider pork to be unclean.”
He started to nod, followed by the waaaaait-a-minute face, and then glared at me. “People should not be able to spout complete and utter bullshit as well as you do.”
Today, while reprising this gem of bullshit to my friend, I changed it to the idea of God being wroth at the death of his one and only son rained ham down upon the evil-doers of Judea and smote them. It grew to the following:
Scene: Jerusalem, early Roman Imperial period. It is dusk.
A very special post-Passover crucifixion extravaganza has taken place, but it is over now. The last of the condemned went in the ground three days ago, but even at this hour the slaves are still cleaning up Golgotha to get it ready for the next event.
The first shooting star crosses the sky. Then another. Then more. Soon comes the first flash and cloud of dust when a building explodes in a Michael Bay-esque manner as a meteor strikes the city. It will not be the last.
The next morning, the shepherds from the outskirts of the city creep in, drawn by the smell of a sumptuous feast but they find no one to greet them as they approach what remains of the walls. Fires are still burning here and there.
They head to the Temple but it is not there. Instead there is only a crater, but there’s something at the bottom. The bravest of the ragged band of shepherds scampers down the still warm crater wall.
At the bottom is a perfectly cooked and honey glazed ham. Its re-entry burn left it juicy and succulent with a perfect caramelized shell. The shepherd cannot resist this perfection and buries his face in it. The other shepherds find hams of their own in other craters.
And thus the first Easter was celebrated.