Priscilla

Southern California, too, for years. In the hands of a good sushi chef, they can be very good.

Smallworld, I love sanma. I am afraid your menu & mention is going to send me to the Japanese supermarket to score some at my earliest opportunity. So good. Malawry, no power, all this time! So it's true what they say on the news! Glad you're back on the grid, however, for the ice cream if not for the actual cooking. (Couple very nice menus, too, in there.) Dana are the chicken, shrimp, & hot links all together or separate. Lessee, last evening, AGAIN with the fried chicken thighs, on account of scoring a beeyootiful Griswold 12-incher at a thrift store. I mean what am I supposed to do somehow NOT fry chicken in it asap? A single judicious pass through the seasoned flour ... a little Spanish smoked paprika rather than the usual cayenne, along with plentiful black pepper & salt & the usual Secret Blend of Herbs & Spices. Happened to have lard on hand, for the frying. Rich beyond reason, chicken fried in lard. Swoonful, really. Jeremiah Tower's aunt's freaky-ass coleslaw, recipe appears in both Jeremiah Tower Cooks and New American Classics, has TOMATOES in it. Also GINGER. And, it was very good. Sweet potato biscuits from Craig Claiborne's Southern Cooking, a favorite, both the biscuits and the book itself. Honey & butter, together again, lovely orange blossom honey from the honey guy at the farmer's market.

Wow excellent work Marie-Louise. 85 calories! 85 calories who majorly earn their keep.

My child will be 12 in a couple weeks, and he's always gone grocery shopping. His very first outing, in fact, at a few days old, was to the Italian market for Parmigiano Reggiano. (He was born during my Marcella Hazan Years, and pre-cut plastic-wrapped Parmigiano from, say, Trader Joe's, was adamantly NOT an option.) Shopping for ingredients is such a necessary component to cooking, and cooking being absolutely central to our life, even when it was just the Consort & me for lo those pre-parental years, that I never imagined for a second NOT taking my child along. We buy fruit & veg from farmers at the farmer's market who have seen him grow from infancy to as tall as me. I can trust him to pick out perfection in tomatoes, say, and he is the Watermelon Authority Par Excellence. In the regular supermarket he will check to see which of the handful of boxed cereals he is permitted is on sale, and I can send him back from the checkout line, as happened the other day, for the bottle of Canola I forgot -- with no fear that he is going to get the wrong item. (I'm a big fusspot; surprising, IknowIknowIknow, but true.) There are ill-behaved children just about everywhere one goes. Ill-behaved adults, too, I hasten to emphasize.

I totally agree with the extra-dark Petit Ecolier observations ... the chocolate is just not good -- chalky, as Jess Mebane said. Grainy. The regular bittersweet is smooth and snappy. Chocolatey. Far superior. Trader Joe's has in the past carried the LU pear Pims, for you LU pear Pims fans. No Petit Ecolier, however they do have a knockoff version with a rook imprint on the chocolate tablet, Le Chevalier Noir, I believe it's called, perfectly NOT a Monty Python reference, I feel certain, which not as good as LU but way inexpensive and convenient. Either Petit Ecolier or Le Chevalier Noir are nice with a hit of Calvados or brandy or cognac, especially if, like me, you don't like cookies.

Ellen, may I say it is just charming how that Keeshond has curled up on your haid! Incredible photos! Incredible copy! It's National Geographic, right here on eGullet! I am thankful to know that the much-bandied-about "yurt" is wordana non grata. And surely, surely, the mayonnaise-based, mayonnaise-laced, salads, as Maggie said, have to be Russian cultural lag ... I'd bet cash money.

I think so, too. I find that refrigerating for a half-hour or so after dipping promotes adherence. Wow NeroW boned chickens open up so many fantastic possibilities in one's mind. Yes and as for the fried, it's a hard-won acceptance, the single dipping, because it seems so likely a more-is-more situation. But it's not! Last evening, tostadas. Tortillas from the place that still makes 'em with lard, refried beans, crispified carnitas. Usual-suspect toppings, diced tomato, Tillamook Colby-Jack, finely shredded cabbage, sour cream, salsa verde I learned from Victoria that we call Victoria's Green Sauce. The Consort always sprinkles on a little vinegar, but the 11-year 11-month old and I consider that Just Plain Wrong.

Also I would like to say that I am undecided, though leaning toward the reactionary, as to the legitimacy of those overgrown Bordeaux candy bars in the individual packages. Conceptually stone brilliant, but ... A big strike against them is they just don't taste as fresh as those from the See's case ... a plus on their side is they are nice to cut in pieces to share with other See'sophiles. Another drawback is the wholesale ruination of the perfection in texture/filling balance which the original has in spades. Another plus, sometimes you can find 'em in supermarkets right at the checkstand. But then there's the question whether one ought be eating gigantic Bourdeaux in the first place. I remain torn.

Last evening, fried chicken thighs. I'm think I'm well and truly through with the double-dipping idea -- a single pass through seasoned flour is what makes a just-right skin/crust synthesis. I think. So, fried chicken thighs, plenty of black pepper and a hit of cayenne in the flour, sufficient salt, too, of course. Mashed potatoes with cream gravy. The rest of the beeyootiful spinach from the Japanese lady at the farmer's market, with a little Niman Ranch uncured bacon and chopped onion.

Another benefit of going to the store is getting your candy in one of those little embossed white See's bags. (Bordeaux milk or dark? Well, lessee ... if I'm snagging it from the top layer of my Mother's gift-occasion 2# asst. it'd be milk. But if I'm in the store selecting my own, dark.)

Bordeaux. Nothin' like it in the whole world. Unfolding layers of flavor. For the Consort it's always always always molasses chips and/or chocolate-covered raisins, both dark. And here's an earlier See's-related discussion, too.

The other weekend a friend stopped by while we were having Campari & grapefruit juice outside in the hot evening, and, knowing she liked neither grapefruit nor Campari asked her what could I get her, and she said, eyeing the pretty pink in my glass, "What are you drinking?" I told her; she winced. But she tasted it, and immediately we mixed one for her because of course it was one of the best drinks she'd evereverever had. Ah The Magic of Campari.

yes but which? :slurp: Oh my nothing to write home about, cheap & cheerful La Vielle Ferme, you know, one of those ones that comes in all THREE colors!!! For which I am grateful, don't get me wrong, at least about the pink. Don't buy the other two colors, of this particular wine. But when I see it in August, in pink, for $4.99, I majorly BUY IT!!! And then ply all who darken my door.

My Southern California garden. Annas.

Hmmm, lessee ... what's today? Today was the 7th, steak frites & salade mixte, bread & saltylicious Tillamook butter. Last-minute very welcome guest. Yesterday, went to a 2-year-old's b.d. party, didn't cook dinner at home. Day before, takes us back to, lessee, the 5th -- I, like Ado Annie, ferget. A week ago tomorrow, the 31st ... such a nice meal. The 11-year 11-month-old did a typically great job wrapping ribbons of Serrano ham around dead ripe canteloupe, and Morrocan oil-cured olives, and Rouge et Noir NoCal "Brie" and LBB baguette slices, toasted, and dry French rose got things off to a nice start. The first Sungolds from the tardy tomatoes, late but good. Nice piece of troll-caught Alaska King salmon, so it said on the sign at Bristol Farms fish dept., saw the guy breaking the whole fish down there on his white plastic board, he was nice enough to give me the rectangular center cut I requested, AND, never before seen by me, actually pulled out pinbones. Course I hadda go over it with my dedicated needle-noses at home but still. Appreciate the gesture. The Consort did his usual bang-up job of mesquite roastagrillage. Nice red potatoes cut in wedges roasted with olive oil sea salt black pepper rosemary. PortObellO mushrooms cooked en casserole with vine leaves as Elizabeth David says gives almost a wild-mushroom effect and she is, as per her usual, correct. Butter lettuce salad with walnuts goat cheese walnut-oil vinaigrette. LBB baguette. Moremoremore dry rose. White nectarine sorbet from the neighbor's nectarines, Alain Ducasse's sour cream sorbet. Tea. (Pine nut cookies, forgotten by me, languishing in the Thomas the Tank Engine cookie tin in the cupboard, shoulda been there.) But the best part by far was the company! A little inter-regional visiting; the lovely and talented eGullet's Maggiethecat from The Heartland and her lovely and talented daughter were our guests. And gracious guests they were, too.

NeroW, there's a mushroom-included Brie-type cheese called just Champignon, from the German cheese folks who make the soft blue Cambazola, could that be it?

Blondie, if it is maple and they are good enough quality to make it worth the expense couldn't Tommy have 'em stripped and bleached and clear finished? Provided he and Mrs. Tommy can stand maple. I like the light natural maple I found under the multi-layers of whatnot on my cabs -- at least well enough to hold me for now, until such possible time as, like Tommy, they are replaced outright. Of course this is a personal thing -- the school-furniture trip is not to everyone's taste.

What kinda wood is that? A wood freak'll be able to tell us. Beech? If it is beech, there's a beeyootiful color hiding under there wanting OUT.

I've just been refinishing my kitchen cabs ... meaning to reveal the nice natural maple under there, under there under what turned out to be like 4 or 5 coats of various things, including a surprise bonus Gumby green Kountry Krackle finish that had some sort of will-withstand-nuclear-annihilation lacquer resistant to the very most noxious chemical stripper. Will never strip finish from wood again. Was planning to roll right into stripping and refininishing my dictionary stand but now will leave the stripping part to professionals. Refinishing, however, is aaah, a pleasure. Of course in any painting job prep is key. Prep is also the Job from Hell. I love to paint; I HATE to prep. Yet prep one must, mustn't one. Really does make all the diff. I think the advice about pickling, or distressed, or other forgiving finishes is sensible, and can give a good look. There's far, far too much True White in the world, I think. True White is the new Navajo White, have you noticed, coming along on the heels of our brief dalliance with Swiss Coffee White.

Hey!

Dear Mr. Villas, I loved Between Bites. The story of your falling in with Chef Dumaine made an incredibly compelling opening gambit for a memoir. We had a previous discussion about the book on eGullet, too. I very much appreciated your writing about Craig Claiborne's enormous influence on American culinary history -- so much of what is taken for granted today is the result of his investigatory journalism, I believe. (Jacques Pepin's The Apprentice also covers these years of tremendous change -- it's interesting, and not terribly common, to have the opportunity to get various viewpoints of the same events or personalities, autobiographically. I anticipate Jeremiah Tower's new CA Dish adding even more.) Between Bites ends with a dispirited view of contemporary American culinary culture, almost Cassandra-like predicting the end of all the good stuff. Do you see any modern developments that bode well for the future? Or is your disgruntlement complete?

Helena what a beeyootiful meal. Olive oil, for poaching the fruit? Lessee, last evening Cubanesque sandwiches. Rolls I had made with bacon rendering as the fat component, leftover grilled glazed pork sirloin from the other night, Danola ham, dill pickles, Tillamook "Swiss" cheese, a little mayonnaise. Pressed a bit on the old griddle until meltinization occurred. Little veg salad of those Belgian teensy peas & carrots that come in a glass jar, rinsed, drained, dressed with a very mustardy grapeseed oil vinaigrette with chopped chives in there.

Last evening prepared Jacque Pepin's Mother's oeufs Jeanette. What a great dish! Served the warm sauteed stuffed halved eggs on a bed of nice butter lettuce, with the sauce drizzled over. Sourdough bread. Cold pink wine. Nice! Oh, chives rather than parsley, got a lotta chives out there, nodding, encouraging if not exhorting outright.

Well gosh yes, Tommy. Mullets are just danged offensive.

Lessee ... last evening cheeseburgers. On homemade bread, lightly grilled preferred by me and the 11-year-11-month-old to regular buns and their pesky crusts ... the Consort was amenable even though he'd definitely prefer crust upon crust. Angus chuck roast run twice through the old KitchenAid grinding attachment. Grilled over pretty darn hot mesquite fire. Tillamook Medium Cheddar generously applied. The usual-suspect condiment platter: Tomato, excellent big old onion, those kind of dill slices that go lengthwise, lettuce. Our fake version of In-n-Out sauce mayonnaise ketchup mustard relish that sort of thing. Frites, run twice through the old deep-fryer. Bass Pale Ale. (For the grownups.) Aaah.