The Bench Assistant

Today on Rework Tuesday, we present our latest design:  the Bench Assistant.

I found myself struggling with unwieldy connections for power and jacks to my prototypes on solderless breadboards.  The original concept comes from a gadget I must have picked up along with a misc parts kits, which uses a wall wart to provide power to the rails of solderless breadboards, I decided to design one that would solve most of the prototyping problems I kept stumbling over:

1. Runs off a synth power supply, putting +12 (in my case) on the top red rail, -12 on the bottom, and ground elsewhere.
2. 5V output to the top header pin.
   
3. Power pins on both sides, binds together N+1 breadboards for N Assistants, limited only by space.
   
4. A function generator provides ramp/sawtooth/triangle, trigger and variable duty cycle gate signals. 
5. Three each of 100K pots and mono 1/8" audio jacks.
   
6. 16 header pins accessible from either side.

With the Assistant snugly bound into the breadboards, the func gen features, pots and jacks can be connected via the headers.   The initial design has right-angle headers but not that I look at it, this take up a bit much real estate so the next build will have these vertical.  100k pots are most useful but anything in a Bourns PTV09A footprint will work.

2019-08-11 How To Cook a Steak

As far as I'm concerned there's only one way to cook a steak.  Of course my way may not finish up with a steak done the way you like, but perhaps you'd like to see how I do it, and I'll point out how you can customize the procedure to your preference.

The overarching principle we will be pursuing is that steak can manifest either of two desirable aspects.  One is what I will call The Sear.  The Sear is the result of the application of high heat to animal flesh (this is no place to get squeamish), turning it crispy with a range of expressive colourations from light tan to charred black, releasing succulent aromatics along the way.  The other is simply the meat, raw and in the natural state our forebears first found it.

To properly cook a steak, we want to present these two natures in as stark a contrast as possible so as to say "Here is, all at once, the primal gift of the wild and the transformation wrought by the hand of man and one of his oldest technologies, Fire."  Between these two extremes is aught but a grey, well-done compromise that which has deprived your meal of any semblance of the vibrance of life, while hinting that though you wield it, you yet fear the awesome power of unchecked flame.

Gas or Charcoal?

As there is to my mind only one way to cook a steak, this is a purely rhetorical question.  Consider the primary difference between professional chefs and amateurs (myself included):  the level of heat applied.  That's why this book has the title it does.   It's also behind the concept of wok hei.

Gas grills, at least of the variety sold for consumer use, simply are not equipped to generate the intense heat needed to properly sear a steak.  It's possible I just haven't gotten my hands on the right grill, so if you think you know of a gas grill (propane or natural gas) that can do the job as I describe below, let me know and I'll see about checking it out.  I had someone point out and rave about the "infrared" capability of their gas grill and when I tried it, it would hardly brown a hot dog.

Gas grills are fine for burgers, barkers, sausage, poultry and any number of other dishes.  I own one, and they can't be beat for convenience and flexibility.  In a pinch I can come home from work, and without changing out of my dress slacks and white shirt, get some flame going for a quick bite.  Obviously this is not an option for the charks.  Gas grills are especially well suited for poultry, which is prone to overcooking, but for food safety reasons also needs to be thoroughly cooked through so the level of minute-by-minute control afforded by gas is very useful.  I may post on my explorations into rotisserie cooking over gas in future.

Since this writeup is about the One True Way, I'm going to get off the gas bus here.  If the gas grill is all you have, you can skip over the charcoal-specific advice and just do this:  preheat your grill by cranking it up to 11, closing the lid, and leaving it to preheat for at least 20 minutes.  At Least.  Don't spend time trying to twiddle the dials to get it just right.  (I would say preheat for even longer, but I don't want to be responsible for the untoward consequences of somebody firing up the grill on max and then forgetting about it.)  One simple way to see if your grill has gotten "as hot as possible" is to keep watching it until the temperature gauge tops out (if it wraps around, you're also likely OK).

To my way of thinking, what you want to do with gas is try to get as close as possible to the charcoal experience, and that means pushing the equipment to its limits.  (Also see the following section about selecting charcoal grills;  you may find the price of admission much lower than you think).

The Gear

The 23" version of my current charcoal grill costs $100.  That's well below what I would have to pay for dinner with proper beverage at a steak house I'd trust to do the job right (and even then I get none of the satisfaction of doing the cooking, which is why I have so much to say here).  At that price I'm not going to bother buying a cover (which I would never remember to apply because I need to wait for the dam thing to cool off overnight) or do anything at all to arrest its rusting.  As an engineer, I am all about treating my tools reverently, but my charcoal grill is going to be subjected to such punishing conditions I figure I might as well treat it as a consumable.

Of course you can pay a lot more for a charcoal grill, but I think it's a complete waste.  Gas grills are considerably more complex, so a solid unit with appropriate features (and I'm not talking Bluetooth connectivity, yeesh) easily warrants a (light) 4-figure price tag.

When picking out a grill, there are are two main features I look for:

1. The ability to easily adjust the distance between the grates and the fire.

Unlike a gas grill, you can't just turn down the heat on a whim.  Now you may be thinking that since I want the highest possible temperature under the meat, I would just get the coals as close as possible and leave it at that.  Couple issues.  Firstly, as we are dealing with an organic process, your fuel may burn down faster or slower than you think and you need to account for that.  Secondly, you need some airflow over the coals to allow for good fierce combustion during the cooking process.

Back in the day, I experimented with "Caveman Style" steak, just throwing it right on the coals, on the grounds that cooking was invented when Ogg was chowing down on a mastadon leg, dropped it in the campfire accidentally and then fished it out.  The difficulty here is the meat smothers the fire very effectively and all you get is ashy mostly-raw meat.  I know there are procedures for doing this right but I haven't pursued them.

Of course, adjustability also plays a large part in the usefulness of the grill for  meals where max temp is not an operational imperative.

The Char-Griller has a very simple setup where the ashpan is supported by two hangers with cross-pieces which can be hung on hooks on the inside of the grill.  This also allows for easy "banking" when you are cooking different items and want the coals at different heights across the width of the grill.

2. Cast Iron Grates

I insist on cast iron grates but as I poke around the Googs for some supporting evidence I'm not finding it.  The specific heat capacity I thought would be a factor but it's not that different from stainless.  Certainly I don't like the enamelled grills, possibly because on the last grill (propane) I used that had them, they sagged over time.  I replaced them with cast iron, which will never have this problem—because of its brittleness, it may crack but never sag.  Usually a crack in a cast iron grate will be evident in isolation so you can take it out of service before it falls apart in the middle of your cookout, but in my experience the grates will outlast the rest of the grill (probably because I don't see the need to pay more than $130 for a charcoal grill).

I've never used a charcoal grill with stainless grates, so I can't really say how differently they behave;  I'm just going off my history with using them over gas.  It's possible I just appreciate them for the aesthetics.  I think there is something different about the way cast iron grates treat the meat.  Perhaps it has to do with stainless being smooth and cast iron rougher, increasing the effective area of contact.  Maybe there is a chemical reaction of some kind going on—we know we can get something happening when oils come into contact with cast iron under proper circumstances.

If you don't have a lot of space or spare cash, there is an option that will let you get started cooking with charcoal for even less money than the grills I mention above:  The Hibachi.  The unit linked to here is not of the finest construction but I will haul mine out and set it up on the Char-Griller's grates if I just want a burger or two.  The wooden handles fell apart from the heat a while ago but I can grab the grates with my grill tongs and move them up and down.  The rear tabs the grates slide into don't hold them perfectly level but so what I'm not going to set an oiled pan on them.

The Fuel

Everyone starts with "conventional" softwood charcoal briquettes and, like the gas grill, they absolutely have their place.  I try to keep a big bag on hand.  Although briquettes don't burn as hot as hardwood lump charcoal, this can be an advantage if you're not on a mission to sear the frack out of a slab of red meat.  Their uniform shape also makes them easier and more predictable to work with.  If I'm cooking up a bunch of wings and for some reason I'm up to managing the charcoal grill (for one thing, my gas grill is attached to the house so I can't drag it out for block parties) yer stock Kingsford briquettes do a fine job and (probably) won't char your batch if you get distracted for a couple of minutes by an "interesting" neighbour.

To hit the middle ground, you can also consider hardwood briquettes.  They burn hotter than the softwood variety but you don't have to consider the size distribution when laying them out.  The burn rate is limited by the fact that due to the exigencies of manufacturing, and they're denser than hardwood lump charcoal, so they won't get as searingly hot because oxygen will be primarily in contact only with the surface.

You can find hardwood lump charcoal in most hardware and grocery stores and, since I've been so insistently particular about the details without having even ignited something yet, you're certainly waiting for me to tell you what brand to buy.  Well here you go, this is the brand to buy:

In my area, Home Despot is the most reliable source.  Canadian Tire also has it, but the packaging is a different colour.  I think it was my brother who put me on to this stuff.  I don't have any measurements to point to its superiority for the intended purpose.  For all I know, the bright red coloration of the packaging has psychologically predisposed me to perceive it as having a hotter burn, but I don't think so.  I've tried a number of different hardwood lump brands, and for the most part, I don't see a huge difference between their fire and that of a heaping pile of softwood briquettes except that they don't last as long.

When I've got a good pile of Royal Oak going, I can hardly get near the grill.  I have to be careful how I arrange the cookery because I can't reach to the back of the grates without elbow-length welder's gloves (which I don't own).  I'm apt to quip there must be plutonium in there, it gets that hot.  A properly stoked Royal Oak fire never fails to remind me of this story.

Nowhere near fully ignited yet you don't need to get close to feel the burn.

I'm not going to get into the specifics of how to arrange the fuel, mostly because I don't go to that level of obsessive detail.  I could, but usually by the time I've set out to grill myself a bloody treat I'm too late in my schedule and I just want to dump the stuff into the grill and get it going.  If you want to make a project of it, I think what you want is to have the larger pieces at the bottom.  When flung out at random, I find they tend to end up at the top, and because it can take longer for large lumps to ignite, they can shield the meat from the heat unless you've allowed a good long time to get them going.  The problem there is you may then get to the point of depleting the fuel.

The Meat of the Matter

My go-to is the ribeye.  I have lately had fantastic results with the Delmonico from the Dutch (that is, Amish) farmer's market a few miles up from my place.  If you haven't had the experience, this is essentially prime rib by any other name.  The farmer's market endears me by consistently cutting thicker than I ask, which I applaud as a brilliant way to get me to buy more meat than I came for, and what the heck—why not throw an entire prime rib on the grill?

I'm also willing to spring the extra money for the dry-aged variety although I find it tends to drip a lot more fat, which on my setup means a lot of flare-ups.  This is not necessarily a Bad Thing.  I just need to figure out exactly how I want to use it.

I like Costco ribeyes mostly because they're packaged for sale already cut exactly the way I like (2 inches thick).  I think New York strip is also fine but slightly boring.  Filet mignon I never go for because it's really boring.

One half of a Costco ribeye makes a fine snack for a hungry engineer.

In general I just prefer boneless cuts.  I don't mind bone-in, it's just not my habit.  They cook differently and if you're going to be serious about the technique you should try both.  I haven't yet done Tomahawk Steak (for reasons having nothing to do with cultural appropriation, really) as it calls for procedures that are slightly more elaborate than I'm going into here—although this is starting to get a bit out of hand as it is—what can I say:  "How complicated do you want me to make this?".

If you don't see something cut the way you want, ask the butcher.  If the butcher at your regular store is unable to oblige sufficiently, shop somewhere else.

The exact choice of which piece of meat to pick up, I'm not getting into.  Pay attention to the marbling.  Google about and I'm sure you'll find plenty of opinions, some of which may even be worth following up on.  I will say that I believe an important principle for inquiring aspiring chefs to follow is Eat Your Mistakes.  If you buy the wrong piece of meat or screw it up over the grill or head down the wrong path in any of your culinary endeavours, eat the dam thing anyway.  You will better understand what went wrong and will be that much more motivated to do it right next time than if you give up and look to Five Guys as your dinner fallback.  Just don't take this advice to the point of ingesting something potentially biotoxic.

A word about frozen steaks:  because I want to be able to do something on the spur of the moment, I keep a bunch of cuts in the freezer.  I don't have a problem with steaks that have been frozen, even if they show a bit of freezer burn.  If I hadn't thought to start thawing meat in the morning, a speed thaw works fine.  If I'm having special company over I'll make a trip to the butcher so the meat is never frozen but if for some reason I couldn't swing that I wouldn't cancel steak dinner just to avoid serving something from the freezer.

My main point about choosing your meat is that you don't need to be a trained butcher—just learn what works best for you.

Ignition!

Here I'm going to depart from conventional (elitist, maybe) wisdom and say lighter fluid works just fine.  I've tried alternative methods and none of them warrant the extra effort.  Here, I'll break it down power-point style:

• Lighter fluid is easy to apply evenly and works reliably.
• If you get the charcoal going as hot as (I think) you need to do steak justice, any of the petrochemical products will be long gone by the time the meat gets near the grill.
• I actually don't mind the aroma, I think it's part of the experience.  Maybe it takes me back to the time growing up when Dad worked the grill and my food was cooked for me.
• I find the charcoal chimney a bit tricky to operate safely.
• If I've got time I'll use fatwood, mostly because it makes a big smoky mess starting up so I get some entertainment value out of it while I'm waiting.

The Dancing Flames of good old-fashioned starter fluid.

The Tools

1. Tongs—The preferred tool for handing steak.  Some writers say never stab your steak with a fork while it's on the grill, though I doubt that causes real harm.  The reason I recommend tongs over a fork or spatula is that when the grates have been properly preheated, the meat will release from them when fully seared.  The tongs are the best for gauging whether the meat is giving itself up freely.
2. Spatula—If you run into problems and the meat is obviously done but still not releasing, you are better off working it free with a spatula than trying to tear it off with the tongs or a fork, which are more likely to leave tasty seared bits behind.
3. Grill gloves—I think you know what I'm getting at here.
4. Stopwatch/Timer/Clock—You should have a good stopwatch, not because you're going to cook to a clockwork schedule, but so you can measure how long things take and apply those observations to your next attempt.  Zero time is when the food first hits the grates.  If you're relatively new to grilling (at least at the level of compulsive detail I'm going into) don't try to tackle everything yourself, just put the meat on the grill and concentrate on timing that alone.  Either make your first one a solo dinner or have a capable assistant who can handle the sides.  After you've learned how to sequence everything, you would start the timer when (for e.g.) you start your potatoes baking so everything finishes at once.

Seasonings

I do all my steaks without anything, not even salt and pepper, the ritual of applying which over my plate is a sacrament.  Of course you are welcome to your own preference but bear in mind that if you follow my attitude toward heat, anything flammable is going to burn off.  Whether you find this desirable is up to you, some herbs would be ok but excess oil is going to cause flareups (not necessarily a Bad Thing, except when they get out of hand) and I advise against using a seasoning with any sugar content at all because it will burn to unpalatability.

The Technique

1. Get a good fire going.  If you're not sure you piled up enough charcoal, add more, even if the fire is already going and in particular, your timing is off and things are burning down before you're ready to start grilling.  Timing is everything.  A bigger fire means you have a bigger window when the grill will be suitable for cooking on.  And of course the main takeaway here is "Fire Good—More Fire, Better."  Plan at least half an hour for the charcoal to fully ignite.
2. Preheat the grates.  My preferred procedure gets you a steak in the style of Pittsburgh Bleu so the grill marks aren't as visible, but if you don't want to take things to that extreme you'll appreciate the sear marks that (in my experience) cast iron produces like nothing else.  To do this you want to get the grates as hot as possible.  Absolutely keep the lid closed while preheating, for perhaps ten minutes after the charcoal has reached its peak burn.
3. Oil the grates?  I don't bother.  As with the starter fluid, at the temperatures I operate, any oil is going to be gone by the time the grill is ready.  If you want you can pre-season the grates as you would a pan, but once again (do you see a theme developing?) seasoning will break down under conditions of extreme heat.  Sufficiently hot cast iron grates need neither oil nor seasoning.
4. Stage your tools and materials.  Things are soon going to start happening very fast.  Have the steaks and your tools all in one handy place convenient to the grill.  Also designate one person, if available, to be your runner, who will spring into action if you need to yell at them to get you something.
5. The Distance.  How high you set the grates above the coals will make some difference to how the meat cooks and will depend on your choice of subject matter.  Because, for example, the dry-aged ribeye may drip a lot more, it might benefit from some a couple of inches of separation.  For the from-frozen ribeye I'm documenting here there was about an inch between the coals and the underside of the grates.  It did drip a bit but there was not much at all in the way of flaming flareup.  I aim for that 1 inch distance unless I have a specific reason to lower the coals further.  I suggest you start with that and adjust according to your experience.  It may take you several sessions to figure out what you're doing.  Eat those mistakes.
6. When is the grill hot enough?  Let's pause for a moment here to contemplate the tableau.  You have your instruments and materials staged and you stand expectantly before what should be a radiant blast furnace of primal energy.  I hope you've already read through this document once so you know what's about to happen.  Once the meat hits the grates, you're committed.  All the charcoal should be either ashed over or glowing red.  How do you know it's hot enough?  As an engineer and scientist, my standard approach to a question like this is to break out the measurement tools, but not this time.  Make it personal.  Simply pass your hand briskly over the grate so you can experience first hand what's about to happen to your food.  We all have different tolerances, but if you can keep your hand over the coals for more than a second without "serious" discomfort, it's probably not ready.
7. Throw on your steaks.  Remember the meat will absorb some heat from the grates.  If possible, reserve some unused hot grate space for a Flip or Rotate.  If I have cuts that vary in thickness I will put the thinner bits toward the cooler coals.  Start your stopwatch.  Close the lid for exactly one minute.  The lid-closing is optional and don't worry about it at all if you're on the Hibachi out in the open.  I like to think it helps to elevate the internal temperature of the meat just enough to start breaking down a bit of the collagen but this is just another aspect I have no Objective Evidence for.   
8. The flip—minimum time. My target time before flipping the steaks is four (4) minutes.  Depending if the fire is near criticality and all other factors are lined up properly, four minutes may be all it takes.  Most writers recommend that you only flip a steak once.  I'm not sure more than one flip is so bad but I avoid it as a matter of discipline.
9. The flip—the actual time.  When to flip?  I aim to flip when the cooking surface of the meat is "done" and the overall arc of this narrative is to get to that point before the interior is much more than warmed.  If your light is good (I tend to get started a little late) and you've got some experience, you can judge some based on the visible area of contact between the meat and the grate,

   

   Four minutes in you can tell without moving the piece it's getting a really good sear.

   but if the meat is Letting Go, just pick it up and look at it.  Here's where you have a chance to rotate it for some nice cross-hatching.  Another factor to consider is what we call in my house "The Bloodening"—blood starts to emerge from the top surface of the meat.  When this happens, you probably should flip immediately unless you're into overcooking your steak (hey, I said up top there was one right way to do it).  If you have a 2-inch-thick cut and you get to this point it's probably too late.  Flip the thing immediately, let it grill long enough to address food safety concerns and then go Eat Your Mistake.

   

   The first side after 6 minutes.  This was fully released from the grates by that time.

10. The Done.  This is not much different from determining the grill time for the first side except you don't as reliably have the blood for your guide.  If you like how the first side went then the same length of time for the second won't be too far different, maybe a few seconds less.

    

    The second side I called done after 5 minutes so I could enjoy the look of the Grate Sear.

11. The check.  If you feel the need to cut into the steak while on the grill in order to check its doneness, you are cooking for someone who is too picky. Seriously, I believe that undercooked "whole" red meat presents minimal health risks as long as the outside has been sufficiently cooked.  Very few foodborne illnesses are carried within a steak, but the surface may be contaminated and should be cooked to a safe temperature.  Note that in the case of hamburger, because the meat has been ground, contaminants can easily be carried to the interior.  Ground meat should always be cooked to a safe temperature throughout.
• At the same time, I an not an expert in food safety, hence:  "Consuming raw or undercooked meats, poultry, seafood, shellfish, or eggs may increase your risk of foodborne illness."
12. The side sear.  (Optional) For a really thick cut of meat (and I mean as thick as it is wide) I'll rest it on each side and sometimes stood on end for maybe 30 seconds just to get a bit more sear.
13. Resting.  Some writers recommend letting the meat "rest" for a few minutes after coming off the grill.  I say, the only resting that's going to happen is at the end I don't start in on.

    

    Pretty much nailed the sweet spot.  If I'd piled on some more Royal Oak and let it take longer to heat up, the delineation between the seared outside and the juicy center would be even sharper.

Now that's what I call Whole Nutrition.  Serve with a chunk of bleu cheese and dress with coarse-ground black pepper and Himalayan Pink Salt.  I can't claim to taste the difference from sea or kosher salt but the color goes nicely with the extra-rare meat.  Someday I'm going to try drinking the EVO and pouring the wine over my bread.

I think I can make the case for some collagen breakdown in there.

Accommodating Different Preferences

A lot of people don't like their meat this pink.  Rather than try to get a 2" ribeye cooked more thoroughly on the inside, I'll simply put on a thinner cut so I can work on a uniform sear and end up with pieces of different doneness.  If I've got a bunch of people with different preferences I'll prep a range of sizes and not try to keep track of who likes what.  As long as people has a selection of some kind they will feel well enough served when they get something "close enough" to their favorite.  And who knows, maybe they'll discover something they didn't know they liked.

Thanks...

...to KatieD for inspiration and SteveOfTheWeb for proofreading (but all the typing is mine and so are the mistakes)

Ain't Sentimental  2016-09-24:  Elogy For a Car

Ten years ago almost to the day, I drove home a silver Mazda 3 hatchback.  The second of my T-Bird coupes was leaking oil from the rear main seal and I'd had enough of wrestling child car seats out of the back of a two-door, so I went after the Mazda based on a friend's recommendation.

  

I took our three Tae Kwon Do gear bags to the dealership to test the hatch capacity.  At the time, car stereos were just starting to offer some serious digital options and the optional 6-disc MP3 CD changer was a grabber.  Much of the digitized vinyl content of WGVC was audited through this device, and by the end of it I was right fed up with optical media.

While waiting at the dealership for the CD player to be installed, I worked on software to bring my study tools up to date for the new dictionary, which was the other big news of the year.

Two highly visible blemishes were acquired fairly early on.  I put a huge dimple in the right rear bumper backing into a tree while trying to squeeze into a tight parking spot at one of Matt Hopkins' Philly tournaments.  Later, one day when I was driving Noah around, I scraped the rear driver side door squeezing past a truck.  I didn't do anything about these because as I was later wont to remark, "The vehicle with the most dings in it has right of way."

Earlier in the year the engine started to give off what sounded like a valve noise.  The transmission because ever slightly more persnickety.  The AC gave out during a drive to a Memorial Day tournament in Dover and then I noticed a tiny crack in the windshield.  On top of all this, the time had long since passed that I was able to get the whole family into it.  Oh, and the gas cap had fallen apart a few months ago.

Today it was towed away as a donation to KEXP, a cool progressive radio station out of Seattle WA the whole household enjoys these days when even NPR is largely intolerable.

Not sure what to do with the plates 'cause I "Ain't Sentimental."

Pi Day Car Stereo Installation

Car stereo shops are harder to find these days than they used to, because full-featured factory installations are a lot better then they were in past years.  But because I prefer to drive my vehicles into the ground and the Panasonic MP3-CD player we had installed by Tweeter (THEGQ) some years ago was starting to show its age, I went looking for an upgrade.

I checked in at a local shop, and the salescritter must have liked that I said that I hadn't done any research, because he quoted me a price $100 over Crutchfield's for a Pioneer unit, plus $250 for installation.  This was enough to push me into considering the possibility of doing the install myself.

It's been a long time since I've done this, and I paid for the original upgrade in our Sienna because of my bad experience doing installations in my T-Birds back in the 90s.  The dash in those vehicles was so horribly crowded you pretty much had to brace yourself against the seats and drive the head into into the slot with your feet.  But for the $350 savings I figured I would take a shot at it, and if it turned out to be unworkable, I'd negotiate over the cost of installing a head unit I'd acquired myself.

I went for the same Pioneer device, with GPS, because using my phone's GPS sucked up a bunch of data, and this was particularly a problem when driving in Canada.

This first step is to remove the old unit.  The instructions said to start by prying out the side panels.  The catch is that I worry about doing this without breaking the clips but it turned out they weren't fragile at all.

 

Next, a 10 mm socket to remove the four bolts holding in the bezel.

 

So far so good, there's plenty of room in there.

Wow, look at all those wires.

 

The next step is to take care of the wiring.  When you get the device from Crutchfield, you get a bracket that connects to your vehicle's audio connector.  The head unit itself comes with a bracket that plugs into its back.  The wires are colour-coded according to an industry standard, so as long as you colour vision is OK, it doesn't take much to match them up.

There are however a bunch of wires I'm not going to use.  A connector for a remote (such as you often find on the steering wheel), a speed sensor (to assist the GPS, and often to adjust volume for road noise), a parking brake sensor (which needs to be engaged before the device will allow you to play DVDs--I briefly considered shorting this out, but no) and a reverse-gear sensor for vehicles that have backup cameras.

I found I was all out of electrical tape, I think because I threw it out after it got all goopy, so made a trip out to get some and an extra USB extension cable.

The pros use crimps to make the connections, but I prefer solder and in any case will take any excuse to break out the iron.  This also an excellent job for young 'uns who need soldering practice, but my apprentices are out of town this weekend.

And then make with the electrical tape.

The wiring assembly, connected to the player's main rear connector:

The main difference between this install and the ones I'd done in the past is the number of rear connectors.  The first choice is to run these out under the dash and I may do that in future, but I found a cheaper option.  Note that although there are two rear USB connectors, Pioneer chintzily only gives you one cable.  I will probably never need both (since the van has multiple power outlets and I've already got a dual-USB charger) but I'd hate myself if I ever needed it and didn't wire it up, so I pitched in one of my own.

The three other connectors are for a microphone, AUX input and GPS antenna.

Bolt the player into the mounting bezel.

Now it's time for final assembly.  Connect all the wiring, then think about where the rear connector cables will be run out.

If you look back at the original picture, you'll see there are two 'dummy' buttons on the right side that are just placeholders for options the Sienna CE (the least featureful trim line) doesn't use, corresponding to the hazard flasher and rear defrost buttons on the left.  Once the side panel is removed, it's easy enough to pop out the dummies and we're left with two holes with a clear path to the back of the head unit.  Thread everything through before you put it all back together, in case there's a piece (like the GPS antenna) that won't fit through the opening.

Before bolting everything down, give everything a run-through.  Check that all four speakers are getting signal, and that the USB and AUX connectors are all working.  (Test track:  New Order's Blue Monday (DMC Mix).)  All working great.

Bolt in the bezel and snap all the covers back in place.

The microphone clip fits nice and snug on the hood of the instrument panel.  The rear connectors cables are quite a mess, but I'll let it be for now and think up something else if they turn out to be too annoying, or I'll pay a pro to do it if I ever spring for upgrading the speakers.

Total installation time:  just about exactly 4 hours even.  I could call it pi hours it I don't count the trip out for cable and tape.

From device installation to enterprise infrastructure architecture, look for WGVC.COM at the intersection of Media, Technology and Entertainment.

CTCS Day 5

2014-08-07 Day 5–Then Scrabble® Happened 

I had been planning to get some shots of Kilarrow Parish Church but the days had been pretty full, so I made an effort and got out to the bus stop with twenty-something minutes to spare and wheeled my goods up the hill.  There was no time to ask for a tour, so I would be leaving the interior for my return visit–it was the graveyard that had caught my attention anyway.

The EF-S 10-22 lens provides an interesting perspective on a cooperative rainbow.

Kildalton Cross.

Quick smartphone shot of rainbow over Islay before catching the bus to the airport.

And then Scrabble® happened.

CTSC Day 4

2014-08-06 Day 4–Multi-Tour Day

Early morning fire alarm–this should have happened the next day when I have to get up to catch a 07:30 bus to the airport.

Having returned the bike upon my return last evening, a new transportation plan was clearly indicated.   The Bowmore distillery was on the next block down the road from the Lochside, so I signed up for the 10AM tour.  Then a 12:30 bus would take me down to Port Ellen, and from there it's a walking tour.

One thing to be prepared for is that even if your tour starts at 10:00, some sites will push a glass of whisky into your hand right at the start.

The Bowmore malt mill.

Bowmore's mash tuns, notably different in style relative to Bruchladdich.

Wash tuns, soaking with a cleaning solution.

Carbon dioxide buildup is the major industrial hazard around the wash tuns.

The bottle-your-own option wasn't on that day, so I settled for a commemorative  water pitcher.

Bowmore town square.

The main street, including the Co-op where thankfully I was able to buy some fizzy water.

I'm sure WMATA and TTC have rules about bringing your doggie to work, but that doesn't seem to be an issue around here.

The wharves of Port Ellen.

I seem to have reached a crossroads of some kind.

From Port Ellen, three of my top distilleries are within a 3 mile walk and the weather cooperated.  Not a lot of shoulder on the roadway in some spots, but traffic is light and many drivers wave as they make way for you.

Laphroaig is the first port of call.  I opted not to go on the tour as I had two more stops to make that afternoon, and now that I was there the 'Find your own plot' gig seemed rather gimmicky.  I might have gone for it if I'd had more time.

Instead I opted for a bottle of Triplewood and headed off down the road.

A couple of hints that I'm headed in the right direction.

The whole industry prides itself on being low-tech, right down to the ad hoc lettering.

The Port Ellen distillery is a legend in these parts, and I'm not going to be trying out their stuff anytime soon (even though it's on the list at the Lochside).

The 2PM Lagavulin tour was fully booked but after seeing them off, our hostess set up myself and another guest with a free shot and stamped our "Classic malts" passbook–just 11 more stops to fill that in, and none of them were on the roster for this trip.

The last stop, again with its own signature color.  Thanks to a couple of no-shows, I was able to get on the last tour of the day.  I'd miss the last bus back to Bowmore, but there are alternatives.

Flavour wheel.  That's a lotsa aromatics.

Tour guide Jenny with the malts.  Ardbeg is one of several that buy their from the Port Ellen maltings.

Ardbeg mash tuns and stills.

Some sample displays from the Ardbeg tasting room.

What to make of a Scotch branded "Rollercoaster"?

The last bus of the day had already left from Ardbeg but Jenny offered to give me a lift back to Port Ellen for a 20-minute wait for the Bowmore bus.  By that time the weather had turned so I didn't follow through on my plan to get a few last shots from the road.

For the last night at the Lochside, I hung around for their dinner, prawn salad (rather conventional, with a cream sauce that was a bit smothering) and salmon, a bit more overcooked than I would have done it, but as I found through the rest of the trip, that fish stands up to all kinds of mishandling.