Mayhaw Man

So, there. You know where I stand before I even get cranked up on a big rant. The stuff sucks. Sure, it looks swell and everything- in the same way that an unbruised, waxed, shiny red delicious looks like a good apple, but turns out to be a mealy, tasteless red orb- but who eats the stuff? And you can tell me that yours is different, it's better, whatever and I'll accept that (though I'll consider you to be a braggart until you send me small samples of your wares-email me and we can arrange shipment) for the sake of argument, but, really, I'll still know that ANY well made icing of almost any sort will be better, more tasty, and more pleasurable to eat than any rolled sheet of stuff plopped over a cake and then tarted up with some shiny geegaws and piping. Really, I'm not kidding. How did this stuff get to be such a big deal and who really likes it? Warped and worn out brides and their mothers who are just making a series of bad decisions? People who just HAVE to have the shiniest, most perfect cake ever and don't care how it tastes or, maybe, just maybe, it's possible that there are some people out there somewhere who have some sort of fetish for this gooey sheet of nothingness that seems to adorn so many cakes these days? I'm ok with fondant at baking competitions as I know it makes a swell looking platform for whatever the baker is doing, but, on the other hand, in real life, I think that fondant should be banned completely. Why make a great cake and then throw a sheet of sugary material over it that has the pliability of a sheet of plastic (and often tastes like plastic too. When I think fondant-I think polyvinylchloride! mmmmm, PVC)? Why even bother. Just make a pie, instead, for Pete's sake. At least people will enjoy it. So, all you bakers out there, explain this recently exploding phemomenon. The stuff is everywhere. It's on everything. Does no one on the face of this planet remember the days when BUTTER CREAM and all of it's very delicious, very edible derivitives were king of the cake mountain? Tell me why you use the stuff? Tell me, please, just how you can justify regularly using something that is, not only not very tasty, but can be really hard to deal with in terms of eating, on cakes that you otherwise spent a great deal of time and talent on? What gives? Thanks for your thoughtful answers. I'm sure that they will be less rant like than this one. Bakers are so cerebral, unlike writers and vicitims of Katrina related stress disorder.

Sophie's Gelato Parlor is exactly 4 blocks up the street from my house here on the mean streets of the Lower Garden District in Federally Occupied New Orleans. It is a place of solace and goodness for many in my neighborhood and a destination for people from other parts of Gnarlins and the world. I love Sophie's. Alot. Crazy love. Love so deep and so true that it hurts to even think about it. Sure, I forsake her occasionally (I'm like that) and go to Creole Creamery, but that's usually because I am up in the middle part of Uptown and it's just a handy stop. I'll eat it, and I'll like it, but, always, I come back to Sophie's. I don't know if she loves me, but I surely and truly love her. Today, on the advice of my friend Brett, who just wrote this fine piece about ice cream in our little outpost on the Gulf of Mexico, I enjoyed a new combo-Creole Cream Cheese gelato topped by a little Orange gelato-a creamsicle beyond all others. Yowza it was some tasty. In fact, as I was sitting on one of the little ice cream shop type chairs out on Magazine, waiting out a much needed and appreciated afternoon thunderstorm, I decided that it was so delicious, so perfect in it's creamy goodness, that I traipsed proudly back through the door and had another-except this time it was Creole Cream Cheese and Lemon. It was just as good, no diminishing returns at all, but it was not quite as familiar as the Creamsicle flavor combo. If you come here, and you don't go, you are either someone who doesn't like ice cream or, possibly, someone who just makes pretty bad decisions on a regular basis. It's that good and, for those of you that are convinced that "dropping some money" in New Orleans is helpful to our recovery (it is, of course) drop a few bucks on Lower Magazine at Sophie's Gelato. You could do worse.

Blenheim's Red Top Ginger Ale is enough of a reason to be glad that you are alive, just in case you were looking for one. It's awesome. A really, really good friend used to send it to me, but, well, I guess that I've fallen out of favor with him, bcause it's been a while. In fact, we discussed this very thing, Blenheim's, right here on this very website. Maybe someday...

Fine, but it is, in fact, pretty much along the lines of what I do for a living. Good luck with that.

He is kind of famous for his hatred of eggplant. I see this as a learning opportunity for him.

Well, who woulda thunk it?

I'll do the eggplant, Todd. Perhaps we could have a taste off on Monday night at Chez Pableaux on Monday night?

Would Oregon do, or is the border stuff too big of a pain?

Seriously Holly, where did you come across that? I would love to see that book. What's the publication date on the thing. Off to my friend Google, and, failing that, my pals Lexis and Nexis. Those two guys know everything.

Well, BigHoss, there's that whole taste and texture thing. Once you get past that, slugburgers will be on their way to dominating the world's fast food markets. Actually, I like them, but they are, absolutely, an acquired taste. Or I think so anyway.

I too completely understand that once a chain reaches a certain size that it's much easier and more expedient for them to use central warehousing. BUT, just last night, I was in Whole Food on Magazine St. in New Orleans and there was not a single local tomato in the place. It's kinda crazy, given that Creole tomatoes are just coming into their full and much heralded (rightly) glory. All WF had on the shelf was a big pile of picked over heirlooms of various sorts, some Mexican hothouse tomatoes (though they are neatly marketed in little groups of 3 or 4 still on the vine-it still doesn't make them taste much better than red sponges), and some grape tomatoes-which I bought because they were very tasty. Nevertheless, even though I was sucked into Whole Food's evil marketing scheme and purchased tomatoes that I didn't really want (well, that's not true-I wanted them, but they weren't what I was looking for when I went in there), I still believe that the company as a whole would be better served if they made allowances to serve local farmers who were able to commit to being able to regularly supply certain stores with a minimum supply over a period of time. I know that in DC, local farmers, particularly organic guys from the Eastern Shore, are having trouble at WF with these same issues, but, unlike in downtrodden New Orleans, at least they have some very vibrant farmer's markets (and lots of them if you take the area as a whole) to sell their products in. Sadly, that is not the case here, though it's not for a lack of trying on the part of the market folks. You know, I don't think that Whole Food is evil. I don't have alot of shopping options right now, and certainly not any convenient ones and, frankly, in my neighborhood (just google on something like senseless murder or some such and you'll get my NOLA neighborhood), it's probably going to be a while. So, I am glad that I can go to a pretty decent, though entirely overpriced grocery and make a few decent groceries before I go to the Sav-A-Center for the staples and cleaning supplies. Whole Food is clean, has a pretty good selection of interesting things that I would not otherwise be able to acquire, and that's as good as it's going to get right now. I would like to see them do more for local farmers and I hope that they do-hell, at this point they should make a big deal out of it just for the positive PR that they would receive, but ultimately WF won't make the decision to "buy small, buy local" until it makes business sense for them and I believe that, at least for the short term, it's just too much trouble to deal with on a store by store basis. Right or wrong is not part of the equation for them.

Well, you could skip that pedestrian gin or vodka and do something a little more exotic and have a Pimm's Cup

Leidenheimer's 7.5 inch poboy bun (this means more crust per square inch of sandwich-as opposed to one cut from a 32 inch loaf) Roast beef roasted until really, really perfect Great gravy made from pan dripping and covering, but not drowning the meat Dressed Two of them

I had a whole nother feeling about the book. Completely different than many of the readers here. That's what I like about this place. It's what I've always liked about it. OK, so I read the first two and enjoyed them immensely. I reccomended them to people and bought a couple of copies to give to people who I knew were entirely too cheap, too lazy, or too tired of taking my reccomendations. They were good books-fun reads and, in places, really brilliant. This book, The Reach of a Chef, is an entirely different thing. A great book. Fascinating, inspiring, and as a whole, crazily informative and entertaining at the same time. This is no small achievement and Ruhlman deserves all kinds of kudos for the thing. I am certain that he had fun writing it and that shines through on almost every page. I read it, cover to cover, in two sittings on my back patio swatting mosquitoes, drinking coffee and fending off phone calls from clients and creditors (thank God for the first group because the second group is much smaller than it would be otherwise), just kind of in a trance of enjoyment. I felt sad when I turned the last page. Really. I could have gone another couple of coffee pot's worth. Also, just for the description of his feelings on the whole "foam thing", it's worth a go. I might not like it much, but, on the other hand, at least I have some new tools with which to give it some thought. Go buy the book. I can't afford to give you one.

Yogurt and whatever cereal I've got-the more sugary and delicious the better. Fage and Captain Crunch (with ORIGINAL Crunchberries-not those namby pamby blue things that aren't fit for consumption even by the drunkest of individuals) is a fine late night combination. And then there are always canned biscuits, which, really, if you can handle oven operations, are a treat anytime. Lots of butter and jelly and you are all set. Just remember to wash your face before you go to bed.

i don't know how you eat fish after an event like that. ← Cooked fish? Not so bad. Sushi? Not for a long, long while.

Removing fish remains from a very large, compactor type dumpster the day after thousands of pounds of fish remains were thrown into it after processing them for filets. This was neccessitated by the fact that even the strongest garbage truck in the fleet couldn't get the thing off of the ground. It was the grossest thing that I have ever done. We had to pitchfork out fish goo until we had lightened the load enough to get the thing off of the ground and THEN reload it with the stuff that we had removed for round two. It was really bad. Really Bad.

I have moved this from SFA into cooking for the purpose of getting some great minds working together on this fun project. This idea is similar to the "Call for Deviled Eggs" that the Southern Foodways Alliance had last year before the October Symposium and not only was it fun, if you happened to be in attendance, the results were pretty tasty, as well. So put on your thinking caps and get out the bacon, lettuce, and tomatoes (or not, use something else, just make it interesting and in the spirit of the BLT) and come up with the recipes and, better yet, the story behind the sandwich.

It's not rude at all, but, in terms of what the server has to do, it is a bit inconvenient. Say you have 5 people at a table. You ask for seperate checks and the server says, "certainly, I would be happy to do that for you." Well, it's entirely possible that he is happy to do it for you, but, not only will it take him 5 times as long to ring you out than it would otherwise, but, in fact, it's entirely possible that this time taken in the back of house to run cards, make change, get it all organized, etc. is going to have a negative effect on how you percieve service, as in, "Why is it taking so long to get my bill so I can get out of here and go back to work?" It's just alot more work. Certainly, there are situations where seperate checks are needed, but I find that, with just a bit of upfront organization with your friends or associates, it's usually not something that's needed (of course, when everyone is on expense accounts and traveling seperately, sometimes, there's no avoiding it) very often. Even a situation (last night, I had this same situation) where three people are paying with cash and 2 are paying by credit, it's still easier to get one check. Simply add up the cash, make sure that it works, and tell the server how much to ring on each card. It's not that easy, but it at least saves making out 5 different checks. We do this all of the time and there is never a problem with it. And this is not exactly on topic, but, generally, 20% (or better, in fine dining) is what we are shooting for in our group.

I'm thinking that this is the first time in history "niggle" has been used in two posts in a row. It's a great day for the English language.

Exactly. I'm terrible at math, so I tend to avail myself of my Palm Pilot's calculator just to add the 20% and divide it up into equal shares. But it's interesting to observe that people who will niggle over a couple of bucks are often the same ones that will go cheap on the tip. For this reason, I like to be the one figuring out shares of the bill so I can make sure the tip percentage is appropriate. ← That's great. I'm not anti calculator. It's just when they start breaking it down into "who had the rabbit over mash with rasberry coulis with fresh apples, etc" that I suddenly feel the need to scream. I'm all about modern devices. I am a modern guy.

I eat out pretty regularly with more or less the same group of friends (a pool of about a dozen and usually 6-8 of us eating together with the occasional guest). We take the total and divide it evenly, after tip is calculated. There are always variables (I don't drink, but, usually, I pay an even share-unless they have gone crazy with wine or after dinner drinks, and then, I just quietly kick a few shins and they make the adjustment). This works pretty well. I am one of those who, if invited out with a group of people that I don't know, will probably be not very likely to do it again if I see a calculator involved at the end of the meal, tallying everyone's individual responsibilities. I'm generally eating out for pleasure, and that pleasure in greatly diminished by niggling negotiations at the end of the meal. take the total, add the desired percentage, divide by the number of diners (making allowances for BIG differences if there are any) and pay the damned check-always with the server in mind. THis works most of the time. Of course, this group is heavily populated by industry folks and food and travel writers, so we are all pretty aware of the difficulties of multiple folks and cheating the server, even by accident-so we don't.

I'm certain that there is, absolutely, some kind of penalty for this behavior. Eating this kind of thing is one thing, but bragging about it and encouraging others to emulate it, well, that's a horse of a different color. I think, from here on out, you should just stick to butts. You can keep defiling your food in the way that you seem so cheery about, just keep your curtains drawn and don't discuss it with the neighbors-much in the same manner that you would hide a wanted fugitive from the prying eyes of the neighbors and the long arm of the law. Thanks

yes, it's sad, but you feel funny beating up your mom to get the turkey bones, don't you? Z ← Well, probably not at the time, but, eventually, I'm sure that I would feel a twinge or two of remorse. So, I just take the easy route and let her have the carcass. Besides, she makes a pretty passable gumbo with it.

Yes, of course. One of the replaying scenes in my life is the fight that occurs on the Friday after Thanksgiving when my mom, my brothers, and I get into heated negotiations over the turkey carcass once it has been picked clean. She wins alot. What are you going to do?