New Mexico, Lamb and Chicos Stew

New Mexico, Lamb and Chicos Stew

This is a traditional Native American stew made through the Southwest. It uses chicos, which are dried corn kernels that have been roasted in an horno, or adobe oven. Making this wonderful stew takes several hours so we always start in the morning, on a cold winter day. By noon the house is full of the enticing aroma and the stew is ready and so are we. Chicos can be purchased at many southwestern gift shops in New Mexico or through the mail!

1 Lb. Chicos

5 cups chicken broth

5 cups water

1 Tbl. Corn oil

1 white onion, chopped

3 cloves of garlic, chopped fine

1 Lb lamb stew meat, cut into 1-inch cubes

4 or 5 fresh Anaheim, Hatch or Poblano chiles, roasted, peeled, deveined, seeded and chopped

salt and pepper to taste

Place the chicos in a large stockpot with the water and chicken broth, and bring to a rolling boil. Reduce heat to simmer, cover and allow to cook for two and on half to three hours. When the time is up heat up the oil, over medium heat, in a large Dutch oven or heavy pot. Sauté the onion until soft. Add the garlic and continue cooking for 30 seconds. Add the lamb meat and sauté until well browned. Ladle some of the hot liquid from the chicos into the dutch oven. Deglaze the pan by working brown bits lose from the bottom of the pan into the stew with a rubber spatula. Add all of the chicos and liquid to the lamb. Bring to a boil, cover and then reduce heat to low and simmer for another hour. When the time is up, add the chiles simmer for fifteen more minutes, taste and season. Serve in big soup bowls with warm bread or tortillas.

Serves 6-8

Youtube A Twenty First Century Goldrush!

We are standing at the doorway to the largest transfer of information in the history of mankind. Our access to the web provides an audience of several billion people. Who or what ever we decide to share, we can now share with the entire world. And more importantly the only filter is our willingness to deliver. Gone are the days of some executive deciding what is good or current or marketable. In true democratic fashion the audience it’s self will decide to share or forward. And unlike TV the work is on 24-7, not just this weeks episode, all of the work. For many years I wanted to be a part of the national discussion of cooking in the Southwest in the world of Television food. For me that has all changed, I’m now convinced that I need to focus on all the things that make up our life here in this beautiful Sonoran Desert, the food, the cactus, the tequila, mesquite grilling, our music, the town of Cave Creek, green building, wood fired ovens, adobe building, our cooking school, the list goes on and on!

We will be taping cooking demonstrations but we will also be doing videos on everything else that we are involved with. With the net there is no cost to add another video to the list. Before we had to buy film or tape, today’s cameras cost about 10% of what they cost when I was first on TV and basic editing can be done on a Mac. A friend recently said to me, “I feel like we are living at the beginning of the Industrial Revolution and own a mechanic’s shop!” So start a blog, or start doing Youtube videos, twitter, facebook, my space, become someone or something that you’ve always wanted to be. Write a book or poetry or music and launch it. Trust me, sooner or later, someone will figure a way to be the gate keeper to this amazing internet, but for the next few years the doors are wide open… now is the time and this your chance. Don’t miss this centuries gold rush!

The best Sorbet I've Ever Had!

My wife, Chef Kathy and I went shopping two days ago. It was her day off and we went to see a movie. The Kings Speech, a great movie for performers, it was definitely a girl movie… but I loved it!

Anyway after the movie we went to Whole Foods and bought a piece of fresh cod, $8.99 a pound, the Frozen cod was $6.99 a pound. This was a really well spent $2 fresh, full of flavor and delicious. While we were shopping Kathy went to get some sorbet, I was buying dark chocolate covered, roasted almonds. I interrupted Kathy while she was getting the sorbet and she thought she had purchased the Mango… but no! She only thought she had the Mango sorbet.

Upon arriving home I was putting the frozen items in the freezer while Kathy was putting the produce away in the big fridge in the Mad Coyote room. I noticed (to my horror) that we did not have our beloved Mango sorbet… no we had… are you ready for this… Basil Lime sorbet. Who on God’s green earth would fuck up sorbet by combining basil with lime? I was sure that it was some recent culinary school graduate that was dropping acid between convincing his or her uncle that owned a sorbet company, that this was a good idea.

10:45 pm the night of the erroneous sorbet purchase; Kathy in a desperate attempt to find some sweet satisfaction decides to try the Basil lime sorbet. I’m not buying it.

In order to understand the dynamic going on here, you need some history.

Kathy for the past forty years has been the one that will say, “Hey Joe, what do you think that light background flavor in the cream sauce is?” She is acting like this is a little question between a husband and wife. No my friend this is much more devious, this is her punking me, she is stomping the holy shit, out of any chance that I may ever have, to have a better palate than her… and she is always right! Kathy has the most amazing palate that I have ever encountered.

So when she tells me, that the basil lime sorbet has “A flavor that she could become addicted to!” I approach it with caution. Again my wife and childhood sweetheart is spot on.

This is one of the greatest flavor combinations, that I have encountered, hands down.

You need to try Sweet Republic, Basil lime Sorbet!

It has my mind reeling with cooking ideas! My advice... get some tonight!

Warmly,

Mad Coyote Joe

Mad Coyote Ketchup

http://www.seriouseats.com/ is a website I subscribe to. It’s a great food site, high-energy… lots of good ideas and comments. This morning they had a Ketchup recipe. If you’ve never had homemade ketchup it’s well worth the effort. These were my comments, and below is the recipe, if you try it make sure to use my changes. I know the Italian Tomatoes are about $6 a can, trust me this is the best extra $5 you can spend in your kitchen!

When speaking of Ketchup we are thinking Tomato Ketchup, mushroom and even banana varieties have been popular. There are several different stories about the derivation of the word ketchup, every thing from, fish sauce to type of soy sauce to a sauce of pickled vegetables.

Ketchup like Salsa can be made from many other ingredients, and for my money homemade ketchup again like salsa is far superior to its canned or bottled relative. Once again convenience provides a very stable middle of the road flavor that appeals to the masses but the wow factor is completely lost. The only thing I would change in this recipe is the addition of San Marzano tomatoes from Italy or in season fresh from your garden! Oh… and I might try substituting Chipotle (a peat smoked jalapeno) for the cayenne, but that’s just my Sonoran twist!

Mad Coyote Joe

• 2 tablespoons olive oil

• 1 medium onion, chopped medium

• 1 clove garlic, minced

• 1 28-oz can tomato purée (MCJ Change Use San Marzano Tomatoes from Italy)

• 1/2 cup packed dark brown sugar

• 1/4 cup cider vinegar

• 1 tablespoon tomato paste

• 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

• 1/2 teaspoon ground mustard

• 1/8 teaspoon ground cloves

• 1/8 teaspoon allspice

• 1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper (MCJ Change Use Chipotle chile up to 1 tsp.)

PROCEDURES


Heat oil in a medium saucepan over medium heat until shimmering. Add in the onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened but not browned, 5 to 8 minutes. Add in the garlic and stir until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Add the tomato purée, brown sugar, vinegar, tomato paste, salt, mustard, cloves, allspice, and cayenne pepper and stir to combine. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to low and simmer, stirring occasionally, until thickened to the consistency of ketchup, 45 to 60 minutes. 








Place ketchup in the jar of a blender and purée until completely smooth. 








Wash and dry saucepan then place a fine mesh strainer over top. Pour ketchup in the strainer and, using a spatula, force through all of the ketchup. 








Taste ketchup and adjust seasonings if necessary. Pour ketchup into a jar, seal, and store in the refrigerator for 3 weeks up to a month. 



Coments are King!

Comments are king if you are enjoying these posts you cane help us. My partner in this TV venture Raul Odonnel said to me the other day “Comments are king!” Raul is right if you feel anything, right, wrong or indifferent, please let us know. It guides us and tells us we are giving you something that you are reading and hopefully enjoying. Either way, let us know and we will respond!

Out new chapter in my novel "Willie"

Out

Joe Daigneault 1278 words

I show up, as usual, twenty minutes before the rest of the crew. The sky to the east is just starting to lighten a bit. It’s still too dark to see. I go over the sheets, layout the rigging, set up the torch and check the wire. Today we’re finishing a six-barrel, box culvert in the desert just outside of Whitman. As the crew shows up I drink that last cup of coffee and pop four 500mg Tylenol.

Kenny, an ex-bull rider turned-Christian-speed-freak, who is now the Super, wonders over. “What do ya need, Joe?”

“When’s the pour?”

“At one.”

“Well, I could use two men and three punks.”

“I’ll give you black Howard and two new skins.”

“How fresh?”

“Right out of the box… just came off the rez yesterday and Joe, don’t kill em we’re short on help.”

“Okay but we’ll be chasing it, see if you can’t get me a few more.”

“Billy T called and said the office was sending out some new guy and they said he was only to work with you!”

“Call those assholes back and tell them, if they want me to baby-sit, they need to tack 50 cents an hour on to my check and send out a few cases of Pampers.”

“Either way, it’s gotta pour, so it’s assholes and elbows!”

“Amen to that.”

Kenny walks over to an old truck. Two young Indians get out. He points me out; they put on their brand new, tool belts and walk over quickly.

I say, Yah teh hey apena, denez (Goodmorning, Navajos.)

The older one replies, Yah teh hey, hostein (Hello Boss.)

About the same time, Howard, a huge, scary, midnight black, man, with a two inch wide scar running across his face, walks over, and growls, “Good morning, you fat, white, piece of dog shit”

“Morning fudge blossom! If your all done with the sweet talk, why don’t you get these guys loading in that bottom and I’ll lay it out. Oh, and Kenny says if you break em, you buy em. So play nice.”

Howard walks over to the iron pile and starts shaking out the rods. I tell the Indians “Just do what that big black guy over there tells you, keep your hands on the rebar, don’t slow down and you’ll be fine.”

The older one says in broken English, “Wha happen to his face?”

I’m tempted to lay some bullshit story about a knife fight in the ghetto on them, but decide against it. “Well, when He was twelve, down in Morenci, he and his little brother stole the limo at his sister’s wedding. Shit, they were just two little black kids that had never seen a Cadillac that big before… going for a fucking joy ride. They made it about a mile before Howard wrapped the car around a big old oak tree. Howard went through the front window. His little brother was crippled for life. He’s every bit as mean as he looks… so I’d leave it alone.” Nodding my head toward the iron I say, “Get to it!”

Howard picks up three of the 35 pound, number seven hook bars. They are 12 feet long, with a six-foot tail. Howard is tall enough to rest the bars on his shoulder as he carries them out to be placed in the box. Unfortunately, the Indians are only about five feet tall, so they hold the bars over their heads as they walk. Both try three bars and make it about ten feet before their arms give out. The bars go tumbling to the ground. Howard storms over and starts screaming.

“You clumsy, gut eating, ccoksuckers. Are you fucker’s lazy or just plain stupid? That’s a good way to end up in the hospital. If you’re too fucking short to carry these by yourselves then team up. I don’t want to see you carrying less than five of those ‘Chingaderas’ all fuckin day… And don’t let that fat, white, son of a bitch over there run out of iron, I don’t want to hear it!”

As Howard and the Indians pack the rods in I set them into place. Working as fast as I can I tie the bars together by wrapping the wire around them, where they come together. Then I cinch them tight by pulling and twisting the wire at the same time with my hands. Another quick twist with my pliers then I cut the wire short. There’s no time to be careful, so about every five minutes I accidentally run my knuckles or forearm across the razor sharp wire. After twenty minutes, my arm drips blood and will do so for the rest of the day. I’m so use to getting cut that I don’t even flinch anymore. If it feels too deep, I just check quickly to see if it needs stitches.

Around nine, an orange Toyota pickup pulls up. An old Mexican, wearing thick prescription sunglasses, gets out. He’s the field superintendent.

He asks me, “Hot enough for ya Joey?” I’m hot and sweating. it’s around 110°.

“Hey Billy T… no, but don’t worry we’re suppose to hit 118° this afternoon. How’s that A-C been treating you?” At 118°the average guy will make it about twenty minutes before he starts puking. When it’s that hot, people die from heat exhaustion.

“The A-C’sFine… just fine. Come on up out of there I need a word with you.”

“Look, I got a pour at three and my ears work fine, so just speak up.”

“Hey… get you ass out of that hole NOW1… I need to talk with you about this guy the office is sending out.”

I’ve worked around Billy T all my life; he has a look of concern on his face that really grabs my attention, so I tell Howard, “Hey, take over.”

When I get up top, Billy T. says, “Do you remember a huge con that worked down at the yard. The FBI came in and scooped him up one day about eight years ago?”

“Yeah, I remember him. His name was Willie. I used to work with him when I was a kid… Why?”

“He’s out and coming here. Apparently, they were so afraid of him down at Florence that he’s been in solitary for the past six years. I guess he beat three guys to death.”

“So why’s he out?”

“No one left to testify, but he did the did the rest of his time in the box. They let him out for one hour a month to walk around in a cage in the sunlight, wearing shackles with two armed guards watching. Your old man gave him a job so he made parole. No General population for him. They took him out of solitary this morning and put him directly on the bus. He’s a little spooky. The office told me to give him to you… keep a fucking leash on him. There’s a tool belt for him in the back of my truck. Tell him I’ll take it out of his first check.”

“Will do”

Billy T drives away and I get back at it.

Around eleven, I look up from the hole and there he is in brand new, Levis, boots and a white tee shirt. Just as big as I remember, except he’s as white as a ghost from being inside.

“I’m looking for Joey Daigneault,” he says.

“Well Willie, that would be me. How the fuck are you?”

He smiles that big, shit eating, Willie grin and says. “Fine as frogs hair, boy… I’ll be, look at you. You grew up!

###

Shipping Container Building

Shipping Container Building

One of the goals we have in building our campus is to use our different buildings as individual labs, the buildings themselves. The goal being to discover ways for the average person on the street to build their own home or what ever other buildings they may need, at the lowest possible cost, and with the greatest future savings of energy.

What we’re studying is Shipping Container (Connex Box), Straw Bale, Cast in Place earth, and super insulated frame, Construction. Along with this we are implementing photovoltaic electric and passive solar hot water.

I am currently working on the utility building that will house our art studio, mechanical workshop, storage and potting shed. Its frame is a shipping container. Known as a “High Cube” it is forty feet long, nine and a half feet tall and eight feet wide.

These come with utility grade, hard wood floors and are strong enough to stack eight high fully loaded. What that means to us is they can handle almost any load that the average builder might want to place on top of their building.

These Connex boxes are made out a product called “Corten” also known as weather resistant steel. There are several builders worldwide thinking up new and unusual ways to stack these structures. After looking at several boxes, our criteria being; straight, without major holes or dents, minimal corrosion, floors in good shape, doors with good seals and in good working order and weather tight, we bought ours for $2700 delivered. A friend moved it into place with a backhoe and I leveled it with a 6-ton jack. I cut in the window for light and placed a vent on the roof. Our future plans include adding thermal mass with poured in place, reinforced adobe, wrapping the finished box with two inches of insulation and a living roof that will serve as an herb garden and possible second story office. This is one or most requested blog subjects we receive. Please let us know what you’re building needs and plans are. And if we can lab something or help answer any questions that you may have. I just grabbed these pics of the net as examples of box construction.

Warmly,

Mad Coyote Joe

Who Are You?

Who Are You?

I was going through my Blog Stats. This tells me who is reading my blog and where they are. Below is the breakdown for the past few days. Historically most of my readers are from the good old USofA. Next it’s Germany then Canada, Australia, Russa, Iraq, Malaysia, Netherlands (I sure this is my friends Sabina and Roland), Japan then Thailand. These are rounded off but in correct order. Germany in number two was a big surprise, I would have thought England or Canada. This week I'm getting new readers from Asia and Eastern Europe.

Okay I’d like to know who you are and where you are from, so if you have the time and the desire to help. Please tell us a little about how you ended up at our site and where you are from. I write on everything from food to low cost building design, with crime stories and poetry thrown in, along with stories about our open mic. What drew you to our site? This will tell me where I’m serving you and not just practicing my writing. Just go to the bottom of this posting and click on comments.

United States 115

Canada 4

Singapore 4

United Kingdom 3

China 2

Slovenia 2

Australia 1

Spain 1

France 1

Spain 1

Historic Views by %

United States 87%

Germany 3%

Canada 2%

Australia 1%

Russia 1%

IIraq 1% Malaysia 1% Netherlands 1% Japan 1% Thailand 1%

Puke and Weeds / Willie

This is a small chapter in the beginning of my novel, "Willie" it takes place about halfway through my first day I was getting yelled at by my boss Chuck and I had been picking up wire and got a bad cut on my hand. It was an introduction to the main character in the story. This finishes the day

Puke and weeds

An Essay by Daigneault 1174 words

It’s hard to explain what the heat in a South Phoenix steel yard is like. The thousands of pounds of rebar heat up in the sun by June the daily temperature can hover between 115°f and as high as 128°f and the iron works like a heat sink, or a giant solar oven. When the temperature is in the 120°’s which is taken in the shade at the Airport, the temperature in the sun between two eight foot tall piles of rebar that are stacked three feet apart can be in the 130°’s. Combine that, with a heat that’s both humid and greasy at the same time, and the smell of cut steel and diesel. Within a few minutes you are covered with sweat, grease, dirt and the iron flakes that come off the fresh iron. Next there is the iron itself, if it’s been in the yard a while it’s covered with rust it’s heavy and the cut ends are razor sharp. The result is an environment that will smash and crush your fingers constantly cut open your hands, arms and legs, while carrying the bars, if you happen to allow the bars resting on your shoulder to touch your neck, it can blister and even remove skin. All of this in heat that’s like standing in the opening of a dirty oven that’s on high. Not to mention Chuck who seams to take great pleasure in expanding my knowledge of words based in carnal knowledge and feces that are used to describe my lacking efforts. In short, to Chuck, I was a shitty worker and a first class pussy.

But I kept grabbing the biggest bundles of wire that I could pull free. And dragging them over to a dumpster that was headed to a scrap yard.

When you’re new to working in the heat your first thought is to get a drink of water. And when you’re walking over to the water barrel your not carrying a big rusty pile of wire. It’s a little break, or so you think. I noticed the men snickering as I kept going back to the water barrel. But amazingly Chuck wasn’t screaming at me for getting a drink. I soon found out why, after about my 15^th cup of water in the first few hours my belly started to cramp. I was now not only cut and filthy but I was full and way too hot and starting to feel sick. By 9am it was around 120°f. The Roach Coach pulled in and blew its horn. All of the men grabbed a bottle or two of Gatorade. I wanted to get some energy so I wisely grabbed a burrito and a coke. Once again I saw the others snickering, but I didn’t get the joke. Feeling like I just survived the Bat tan Death march I choked down the burrito while sitting on a cardboard box that was in a garbage pile that happened to be in the shade of the big crane. That was the shortest 15 minutes of my life. When Chuck told us that the break was over, I was sure he was reading his watch incorrectly. But I grabbed what was left of my Coke and headed back to the wire.

Chuck stopped me and said, “follow me over here with that shovel.” We walked across the yard to a pile of wooden forms, stacked on the other side of the yard. It was an area about 60 feet square, which was waste high in weeds.

“Cut them down and drag them over to the dumpster. When you’re done I want this area completely clean!”

The weeds had grown up in the spring rain and bloomed, then dried in the sun, so they sort of shattered when I hit them with the shovel. The blossoms were covered in stickers. Within a few minutes I was covered in little scratchy pieces of the weeds. They caused me to itch all over my now sweaty torso. This was too much, after a few minutes of scratching I was covered with red hives. I headed over to negotiate with Chuck, on the way I was starting to get dizzy and the men were watching me. As I approached Chuck I tried to say something but instead of words a stream of vomit blew out of my mouth, which about half of landed on my hive, covered belly.

The men howled and I heard one of them say, “Who had 9:45?”

Chuck tried to hide the smile on his face as he said, “Yes?”

“I’m sick,” I said.

“And?”

“I can’t do anymore work. Can I go see my dad?”

“Sure.” he said. I could hear him snickering as I walked away. I wondered out the big gate and walked down the sidewalk the two blocks to my Dad’s office. I remember thinking that I may not make it, and thinking ‘will anybody find me if I fall down.’ But after about five minutes walking in the sun I came to the old brick office. I walked inside and made my way up the stairs to his office. Walking in I was sunburnt, filthy, cut and covered with hives and fresh coat of vomit. My father’s partner Ray couldn’t hide the humor he found in my condition.

My father looking up and acting surprised said, “ Did they quit early today son?”

“No,” I said, “I got sick!”

“Well why don’t you go in the bathroom and clean up a little.” He said.

His office was an old house and his bathroom had a shower and sink. I took my shirt off and washed my face, hands and arms then I took a paper towel and slowly washed my belly. It was red and swollen. The paper hurt but was cool so I would just press the wet towel against my skin, it was soothing. After a few minutes I washed my shirt. It took several rinsing to get the stickers and smell of puke out. The shirt felt cold but still stung as I put it back on. When I came out of the bathroom I was surprised that Dad was continuing with his work. I just assumed that he would stop what he was doing and take me home… after all I was sick.

He said, “Why don’t you take a few minutes on that couch there.”

Soon I was fast asleep. I slept for about an hour and a half. When I woke up, my Dad asked if I was feeling better.

I told him I was, and he said, “ Then head back to the yard I’ll pick you up when done.”

I remember almost crying walking back to the yard, but when I got back Chuck told me to finish the day picking up wire. I just concentrated on not getting sick and waiting as long as I could for a drink. The next thing I knew my first day was over.

###

Cooking School update

In building the cooking school there are several issues that I need to deal with. I’m building a venue that will serve as a school, an event location, as in weddings, meetings, perhaps a gallery, also we are looking at television and photo shoots maybe even exercise, tai chi, or even lectures and workshops. I’m, by nature, a packrat I love to collect things that others have discarded and then reuse them in construction or sculpture. This is a challenge as, I’m having to toss out things that may have a future use, but the business comes first.

I have divided our property into three outdoor and four indoor areas. Our home and the packaging room for our spice company, the connex box which will be used as an art studio, a garage and a storage area and the classroom and kitchen are all indoor venues and out door we have the cooking set and bakery, the main yard and a 16 car parking lot. My plan is to finish the bakery and cooking set first so that we can start outdoor cooking classes this spring. We will use the money from these classes to finish the other venues.

I’m working on the connex box, which I want to make look more like a little adobe building and less like a shipping container.

I'm using a CIP or cast in place adobe system of my own design.

I was given the dirt for my adobes and after inspecting it I became worried about the ratio of sand to soil.

Most of the information floating around the web and in the various books on adobe construction in our library agrees that adobe needs to be a minimum mix of 30 % clay and 70% sand and no more than 50/50. After doing a standard water / soil test my dirt looks like it’s about 80% sand 20% clay.

So I made two test blocks as I have two different piles of dirt. You can see the rings from the cardboard drink case I used as a form,

My system has additional reinforcement in several different areas that standard adobe is missing.

First it’s attached to the connex box, second it has a chain link fence diaphragm, third it has a two-inch hi density foam exterior that is tied to both the box and the fence. After making my test blocks I believe that it will be more than strong enough.

However as an added binder I’m going to add a shovel of gypsum to each wheelbarrow, which will be about 5%. I’ll let you know how it works out.

Shipping Container Houses

Shipping Container houses

One of the areas of study that I have concerned my self with over the years is low cost housing. I’ve built with adobe and straw bale, and my friend Ed has used giant foam blocks and recycled lumber; always looking for a method that provides structure, insulation and an esthetic that one can enjoy.

Along the way I became aware of shipping containers also known as Connex boxes. They are strong, structural and best of all cheap.

Architects are using them in different arrangements to build houses and offices.

My interest was in building a second home for Kathy and myself or a home for one or both of our children. Drywall can be screwed to the interior walls and foam glued to the exterior providing a strong, well insulated structure. I wanted to add mass so I decided on using a system that I have been working on in my landscape for the past few years. I have been building walls out of cast in place adobe.

I use just plain old dirt out of my yard. I mix water into the dirt, in a wheelbarrow and pour it into a form. This is placed on a concrete foundation that comes above the ground by about five inches to create a break between the earth for reasons of termites and water. Once the mud sets up I remove the forms and move them up, for the next pour. The earth, dried in this Arizona sun, is rock hard. After the walls are finished I drive ring-shank nails into the adobe to hold stucco netting and then cover it with a coat of fiber-strengthened stucco. The end result is massive, bullet proof (literally) and very inexpensive.

In applying this to shipping container construction I am adding a two-inch layer of foam used both as a form and as future insulation.

As with my walls I’m placing a vertical layer of recycled chain link fencing to add both reinforcement and a structural diaphragm.

I’m tying this to the box along with running a nylon twine to the exterior of the foam for stucco wire connection. I chose the twine over tie wire as wire can both stretch and rust, twine will do neither. The end product will be a layer of insulation, which I run down below grade about eight inches to create a thermal break from the brutal Arizona sun.

Then I have one foot of adobe for mass and then the box it’s self. I plan on doing a living roof. Please ask any questions or leave any comments that you might have.