Cooking in the Blind

We have never taken cooking too seriously.  Back at Indian Lake, we knew some hunters that had pots and pans and skillets, cooking utensils, condiments, plates and forks, all hung neatly on the back of their blind.  I once hunted out on the ice at Celina, and our host fried hamburgers on a charcoal bucket.  On a guided trip to Reelfoot Lake, the guide fixed sausage and eggs for breakfast and hamburgers for lunch on a gas range he had in a back room of his blind.  Huh, imagine that.

I never wanted the distraction of cooking to interfere with my hunting, still don't.  A thermos full of semi hot coffee and a couple snacks is all I am interested in.  But, there again, our open topped, stake blind out near the ocean would be a tough place to cook even if I wanted to.

Years ago, back in Ohio, we used to have a roof on our blinds.  For concealment primarily, but they kept us a little warmer and drier as well.  Then we got a kerosene heater.  Properly located in the blind it could definitely make a difference.  Was also pretty handy for drying gloves and thawing out frozen duck calls.  A friend once brought out a ham and cheese sandwich, wrapped in foil and warmed it on our little stove.  Easy enough.  Dad and I got a big roll of bologna and some sliced cheese and started toasting a sandwich every day.  Then moved up to two a day.  Then we decided to start bringing cans of soup.  There was one brand that was alright, straight from the can, didn't have to add water.  We figured out that making a little tent of tin foil over the can of soup to seal down around the edge of the stove was a good way to warm the soup pretty fast.  Dad always cautioned to punch a small hole in the top of the can so as not to build up too much pressure.  We were good to go.  Our little system of cooking our lunch was simple and didn't really distract you from hunting.

I remember one day, when somebody forgot to punch the little vent hole in a can of soup.  We put the soup on the stove, sealed the tin foil around it, and went back to hunting, while the soup warmed up.  About that time, we got a pass on ducks and knocked down a half dozen birds. Started working the dog and had to get the boat to go after a long cripple.  Probably took 20-30 minutes to get them all gathered up.  Got settled back in the blind, a little chilly from being out in the water, working the dog and all.  About then, I remembered I had a can of soup 'warming'.  Pulled off the little foil tent and saw that I had forgotten to stab a vent hole in the top of the soup can.  Whatever, I was anxious for some soup.  I pulled out a knife and stabbed a small slit in the can, no bigger than  maybe 1/4 X 1/16 of an inch.  All hell broke loose.  Faster than the human eye could even see it happen, a pea blew out through that tiny slit, hitting the underneath side of the bill of my hat and knocking it off my head.  Then a geyser of boiling soup broth shot out about 2 feet.  Dad and Chief and I all dove for cover.

After a few seconds the can quit spewing.  We wiped the soup mess off our guns and shells on the shelf of the blind, cut the can the rest of the way open and let the soup cool for a while, found my ballcap, then enjoyed our lunch.  No harm, no foul.