Priscilla

I seal the remaining half or quarter or whatever in a plastic bag. Occasionally we will pre-chunk and put in a refrigerator container with an air-tight lid.

Yes he (and Archie too) went to Montenegro in The Black Mountain ... fantastic imagery of an astounded Archie watching old Nero nimbly navigating tiny mountain paths. Just another of the 8,000 laugh-out-loud moments in the series. (Tenderloin addition: Yes I've made it. Quite a while ago now, and wow I don't know WHERE a person would get a pork tenderloin that weighs three lbs. all by itself, and a loin I don't think would work. I will try it again myself and see.)

Rachel I make watermelon sorbetto from a Marcella Hazan recipe that was so good, but I can't remember at the moment which of her books it's in. It was simple syrup, pureed watermelon, lemon. (And I'd second you on the pinchy-pinch of salt.) But the key was how she pointed out how the mixture doesn't taste like much of anything (very very subtley watermelony) until you add whatever citrus juice in critical mass ... it's like nothing, nothing, nothing ... WHAMMO! Superultrawatermelon. Hmmm got the second half of a beautiful watermelon roosting in the fridge even as I type...

M.F.K. Fisher, b. Whittier, California, has had some influence on American culinary history.

Of course starlings, IF you're Nero Wolfe. Course, lacking starlings, if one is NOT Nero Wolfe, as I am, not, there's quite secondarily quail, which is what I did when I prepared the recipe. Also do not so hastily dismiss roasted-breaded-browned pork tenderloin, Missy Ma'am ... and somehow, even the scrambled eggs work for me, although of course it's not the way I habitually make scrambled eggs. Green corn pudding? ONLY perfection, for God's sake. Even Fritz's bread. Sheila Hibben, food writer for The New Yorker at the time, was a great friend of Rex Stout's, and is credited as the source of the recipes, I think, in at least one introduction but I'd have to look. Funny hard-boiled quote from her, too, as I recall, in this same introduction. She also wrote other cookbooks (and I believe also literary criticism), which are pretty useful, not mere Olden Days artifacts. Also I've always thought of Nero's Montenegran origins as paramount in importance -- there's an anti-Tito thread running throughout the series. Plus, Marko Vucic, chef at Rusterman's, the only NYC restaurant Nero will travel to patronize, was a Montenegran childhood friend, wasn't he? Course then there's that Wm. Baring-Gould guy who had them as actual brothers, and also posited the detailed not to say convoluted theory that Nero Wolfe was the illegitimate son of Sherlock Holmes, and also worked out how Archie might be Nero's nephew. Or something like that. See what I mean? Good thing it ain't Catcher in the Rye.

Charming! And to think all these years I thought it was very nearly just me. My identification with the Brownstone and its occupants is total. A harmless delusional literary relationship -- harmless, though adamant in its persistence. Some people have this sort of delusional relationship with Catcher in the Rye; can lead to bad ends, as we have seen. (I owe my introduction to the Consort, who began inhabiting the Archie Goodwin character immediately upon first read, age 14 or something. He was well macerated indeed by the time I met him.)

Last evening a quite nice Certified Angus top sirloin, rubbed with s & p + Aleppo pepper, grilled over mesquite. Beef sliced thinly, arrayed over fresh white corn macque choux with tomatoes. Butter lettuce dressed with balsamic vinegar and olive oil. LBB sourdough thickly sliced and briefly grilled. Cline Syrah.

Yes. But if you DID, duck legs are usually available at a good price at Asian markets, in my experience.

Lessee, Friday in Southern California, looking for staples: Extra-crisp watermelon as per the 11-year-old's wishes. Lovely lovely butter lettuce. Bouquet of Italian flat-leaf parsley, + one of basil. Cherries, Bing and Ranier 1/2 and 1/2 (OK cherries aren't a staple -- but having a very very good year, apparently). Dead-ripe canteloupe. Not at all bad, but not peak-of-season tomatoes. Yellow peaches (good year for stone fruit in general, I would say) for the 11-year-old to inhale and the Consort to eat peeled and sliced into red wine at night. A few plums ... awaiting the Santa Rosas.

I have a couple such pans, dunno if they're black or blue ... maybe they're not all the same, too. I like 'em; forgiving, very tough. Satisfying to work with. Toted a couple home from France ... bought a crepe pan at Williams-Sonoma some years ago (Chuck Williams has always been on top of things like this) ... just recently found a gorgeously blackened small omelette size in a thrift store. Aaah a pleasure to use. An informal though repeated observation is that a lot of people who cook more casually than I do object to pans with metal handles. Fear of burns. Cheap pans with metal handles, anyways -- somehow the various high-end metal-handled cookware isn't subject to this restriction.

Adam, you have my sympathy. I seem to see my share of small rodents, running the gamut from intact-and-wiggling to full-on disemboweled, but a cooked small rodent takes the yuckers quotient to a whole new level. Schielke, brisket, lovely stringy brisket, is one of my favorite cuts. A refrigerator treasure. Last evening, the evening of a hot day, grill-roasted over mesquite half a not-big pink salmon, tail end weighing just about 3#, with a slick of olive oil and s & p. Lean, so far as salmon go, but not in the least dry, and very nice. Served somewhat later, room temp, with fresh chive-basil mayonnaise and sliced farmer's market tomatoes, LBB sourdough batard, which seems to taste better than the narrower LBB sourdough shapes.

Coupla very nice-looking Certifiable Angus ribeyes. In fact it was the cut its own darn self that put the Thai beef salad bee into my proverbial bonnet. Dunno why but ribeye just seems to have Thai Beef Salad written all over it. At least last evening when I caught a glimpse of them on the second shelf of the fridge they seemed to. That and with the ruminating on Jasmine rice I've been doing, like ... WHY is the rice at that little Thai place sososo incredibly otherworldly GOOD? Can I possibly prepare Jasmine rice at home that is even HALF as good? Like that.

Gknl thank you so much for the update -- I have such fond memories of that place and the eponymous dish of which we speak. I am sorry I didn't see your post contemporaneously. Haven't been in Larb Mind; something to correct. Relatedly, I have now read this entire discussion, off and on, interruptedly, over this a.m., and the pages seem to have increased from 5 to 6 and then on to 7 even as I read and left and came back and read some more. Illusion? Or, miracle? Anyways, making a hot-weather grilled-beef Thai salad tonight, unless plans change, and you know, sometimes they do.

Side of salmon, just pink salmon, which was very fresh and a nice dark red, but as with pinks not too fatty, slather of pesto at the end of grilling over mesquite. Nice crispy skin, just-cooked flesh, very nice. Red potatoes roughly mashed with the components of a fully-loaded baked potato, butter, sour cream, bacon, a load of chives, s & p. Salad of getting-better farmer's market tomatoes, Belgian endive, white onion, chiffonade of mint, pink grapefruit sections, with grapefruit vinaigrette.

Not-unwelcome gloomy weather turning to not-unwelcome sunny weather. Hot, even. Chicken cut up left on the bone but slashed mercilessly. Marinated in lemon juice, olive oil, garlic made into a paste with salt, and pepper. Grilled, basted with butter during. Basmati with a little butter drizzle. Tomatoes and thinly-sliced white onions tossed with chiffonade of fresh mint, lemon juice, olive oil, s & p. Lovely plum chutney, a gift from a Pakistani friend, SO good.

Hey this happened to us just last week, too. And it never does. Stripping paint from kitchen cabinet doors, outdoors. Unexpectedly effingly hot. Afternoon wore on, surprise extra paint layers imprisoned beneath varnish apparently made to withstand nuclear annihilation revealed selves. Nearly brought the most noxious paint stripper available to its knees. And us, too. Hot. Hot! Disgruntled. Slight fume-induced disorientation. Thirsty. Pretty sure we were out of beer, guests drank it the night before. Thought I'd look anyways. No! I mean, yes! Two lovely bottles of very cold Sierra Nevada Pale Ale. So we split the one, and then split the other. Aaah. Never EVER tasted so good. Next time, it's straight to dip-n-strip.

Years ago I scored a bunch of Emile Henry at Marshall's, in the pale pinky-brown glaze. Tiny price, relative to regular stores. I bought every piece they had, and have been happily using all of them ever since. And then just a couple of weeks ago I dropped the smallest oval gratin in the sink and broke it. I don't see this pink glaze anymore.

Who lives on Drury Lane? I know him.

I'm pretty sure FG just said you get to decide. OK then I choose Big-Ass Mushroom.

I have declared European seeds to U.S. Customs and no trouble ensured. One time they looked askance at a tinned-steel Chinois, however.

Pursuantly, what IS eGullet Style on this matter anyways. Must decide which permutation I prefer and begin campaigning.

Hello Jancis thank you for taking the time for this Q&A. Since reading your autobiography I have been interested in your thoughts on bringing children along foodwise, and of course later, winewise. What sort of dishes do the children of a wine writer and a restaurant critic claim as favorites? What might be a typical family meal? How old does a child have to be before he or she gets a little wine in his water glass? How old before beginning to learn the pleasant ritual of wine service? Or indeed any other related thoughts!

Great article, Holly. I trust Craig Claiborne in all sorts of cooking situations. I rely on the biscuit recipe from his Southern cookbook you reference, when biscuits are indicated.

Yes yes euphonious indeed.

Thank you Adam I am SO trying this right quick here maybe tonight. What about non-fried applications? (Got blossoms wanting cooking!) In Mexican cookery squash blossoms are folded into quesadillas as they go on the griddle. Have made Mario Batali's squash blossom & mascarpone ravioli -- very nice.