Priscilla

What a particularly excellent-sounding run of meals, these last many posts. Jim: The chicken menu sounds fantastic. Why haven't I been brining chicken wings all my life? Liza: I am so glad Trout Odyssey is not at an end. I was just thinking about this the other day, buying fish, and wondering. Robert: Do you ever make that Venetian rice and peas? I love that dish. Years ago where I used to live the farmer's market included a beautiful old lady selling a small selection of backyard-grown veg, among which were peas she grew, picked that a.m., and shelled. Practically convenience food, it was, if you like peas. I'm trying to grow peas in my garden this year expressly to make this dish. On my second round of sproutlings, Garden Unmentionables ate the first ones. And: Sugar snap peas, I must miss the point, thus far. Raw, not bad, but cooked I dunno. Would like to be convinced. Open to suggestions. Don't mind snow peas, deployed appropriately, and I adore shelling peas. (Which I believe is what English peas are, Wilfrid, shelling peas, as opposed to mange-tout types, I submit parenthetically and ingenuously, in case you weren't joking.) Last night simplicity suggested itself through time and heat considerations. Grilled boneless chicken legs which had marinated in Mario Batali-style infused extra-virgin chile oil, surprisingly good farmer's market tomatoes sliced, mayonnaise. Bread. Priscilla

Grilled corn discussants: I no longer semi-husk de-silk repackage and soak ears of corn for the grill. Used to, have done, but the silk, I feel, contributes a LOT of flavor, AND plus, and PLUS, slips off magically with the husks after cooking. High heat and attendant burning is the thing to watch, in my experience. The flavor development when corn is grilled is just incredible, isn't it? Priscilla

Me too, Tommy, at the risk of the dread me-too post. But I do remain open to counterexamples proving whatever it is they prove. (Not that your dish, Wilfrid, didn't sound fantastic, especially with all those Clues to History making themselves apparent.) Priscilla

Lovely green sauce. Yes, cilantro amount certainly varies, and I know I put in more than I was taught, looks so pretty and tastes so good, people like it. But Victoria was strict about it being a tomatillo story, not a cilantro story, her green sauce, and it is much, much better when I do not go overboard on the cilantro. Chiles, the sky's the limit. Practically. Priscilla

Jhlurie, extremely cogent remarks. The frozen pizza especially is an excellent illustration. How much easier, if easier is simple, than that? And salad! One of the most difficult things to make well. But salad could hardly, as you point out, be lower on the food chain. So. Is easy simple? Simple certainly ain't always easy. Sometimes the two do coincide, like an apple and a piece of cheese and some bread. Simple and easy are shifting psychological states, maybe, or relativistic principles, rather than specific foodstuffs. Or, maybe not! Priscilla

Niman Ranch super-thick rib-eye coated with sage, rosemary, olive oil, salt and pepper, as per Mario Batali, grilled on the old Weber, sliced on a bed of dressed arugula from the garden. Also spinach puff, a Mario recipe new to me, delicate, and a foccacia with pine nuts. Priscilla

Jaymes and Stellabella, I am interested in these green sauces. The one I make was taught to me by a Mexican lady, Victoria, and is quite similar to the recipe you posted, Jaymes, but with more cilantro and less onion, and no boiling of anything, ingredients bunged into the blender with maybe a little water to facilitate matters and let 'er rip. Victoria insisted on not too much onion in any of her sauces, considering it a diluting agent in excess. A very refined cook she was, turning out very refined food. I have seen another Mexican lady from the same village as Victoria use chicken base in seemingly unlikely places, (cactus salad, for instance), but Victoria did not include it in her green sauce. Priscilla

Wow me too can never get enough. What a gift you so generously give us, Suvir. Priscilla

Do you see regional differences among newspaper Food sections around the nation? And (if you do note regional differences), how does your region affect your own section's Food coverage? Thank you for participating in the Q&A! I enjoyed reading your early answers--they are very thoughtful and generous. Priscilla

Yes, JD, that is absolutely it, thank you for that. Did find my tearsheet (tucked in AOaaGoW), it was from the LA Times, reprinted from its original publication in the Independent. A lovely affectionate piece. I'm glad it was chosen to close the book. Priscilla

Hmmm ponderously sad. I do have some sympathy, from reading about Jill Norman's work on the unfinished Harvest of the Cold Months; the sheer volume of material must have been colossal. One wonders if someone somewhere wouldn't have taken on the organizational and archival burden, though. I remember reading an appreciation of Elizabeth David written by Gerald Asher after her death, perhaps published in one of the food mags, probably have the tearsheet tucked in a book somewhere. A treat to read, with lovely details, as I recall, about her visits to California, cited in the Reflexions timeline. Priscilla

Yes, yes, JD, but BESIDES all that, what did Elizabeth David ever do for you? Your story is inspiring and astounding, but in a way not surprising (of course meaning in no way to discount your ordeal). The literary presence of Elizabeth David is just that strong. I can well wrap my mind around her works having contributed to saving somebody's life, if that is not too OTT a characterization. I would tend to agree with this assessment. But I do not regret reading both. Have you read Is There a Nutmeg in the House? Priscilla

Just the book title, acronymized.

Compelled to reintroduce arugula, if only to echo Jim's comments. The most gratifying plant to grow, arugula is! In warm enough weather the seeds will sprout overnight, or nearly. And in an astonishingly short time there's instasalad waiting for you. The thrill of this never palls--as a gardener I am far more enthusiastic than talented. I'd never used arugula flowers before, as I have always harvested whole plants once they mature to my liking, reseeding to keep the supply coming, thus never letting any reach flowering stage. (Controlling bolting is a constant in my Southern California climate.) But after reading your comments, Jim, next time I was walking by my neighbor's garden with the beautiful drafts of overwintered flowering arugula, I certainly tried some and have been taking them off her hands (with permission, encouragement, even) ever since! Absolutely delicious. I'll be letting nature take its course with some of my current crop. Priscilla

Pitter, I am so heartened to read all this. I thought English Bread and Yeast Cookery was absolutely mind-blowing, life-changing, all that you describe. I mean, the yeast discussion alone! (Not to discount the rest.) That'll chasten a person, the relatively massive amounts of commercial yeast called for in conventional recipes, and Elizabeth David's discussion of how and more importantly why we oughtn't thoughtlessly adhere. And her sources in every section, so well and sensibly integrated into the text, with full citations, and still, all the deep scholarship not diluting the pure joy one bit. I had my copy before the reissue, and was thrilled to give reissues as gifts when I could, but still, remainderment was its fate. And with all the cookery books being sold, too. Just tragic. Does EBaYC continue to affect your professional baking life, beyond what you've noted above? Priscilla

Yeow. Guess I check this topic just to re-excruciate myself.

Over the holiday week-end, which night was it, grilled Copper River Salmon, a nice side o' sockeye. Got the guy to trim off the skinny tail end, leaving me with the nice rectangle I wanted. The skin on these wild fish gets surpassingly crispy and toothsome, seems to achieve heights unattainable by farmed salmon. Oh and the flesh was good, very good, too. Incredible color and healthy firm texture, stripe of rarity in the middle there. Nice fresh spinach braised with onion and cream. Cute little red potatoes, fresh and earthy. Bread. Priscilla

Hmmm well not EVERYBODY agrees, seems like. I do, too. Not, as you say, all cookbooks lend themselves to this treatment. It would be interesting to note which cookbooks are useful anthropologically and which as fiction, and what crossover if any is apparent. Hmmm. Me too, I mean, me either, never lived in such conditions, unless you count when I was young and busted flat, which is not the same I know. HOWEVER that was when I happened to read Elizabeth David, it occurs to me. Begins to address why one reads at all, doesn't it. To get a window on some life not our own? To investigate why people are the way they are? To find that seemingly disparate situations can actually have shared characteristics? There is a lot of meaning to be wrung from a putative cookbook. Priscilla

Unread books piling up. There's a cheery thought. A thought that is constantly with me. Even with Elizabeth David, I didn't even KNOW about Is there a Nutmeg in the House? until the other day. I thought, had thought, thought for years, in fact, that I was DONE with Elizabeth David, except referencing recipes or idle revisitation. And then, (tentatively, foolishly) looking for something else, somehow there's an Elizabeth David collection I do not have, have not read, on the screen. What am I supposed to do, NOT read it? The gods conspire, I swear. Priscilla

No. Definitely not. Well, if you mean "survey" in the sense of write an authoritative report on the state of Elizabeth David biographies, then may be. But I don't think you have to read all or even most biographies of an individual in order to recommend one biography. Usually plenty of clues within the four corners of the text as to quality. Sorry if I have taken your question too seriously. Oh my no, Wilfrid, no comment on your recommendation was meant in my question. It's just where books are concerned I tend to be of the More is More mind, you know what I mean? I am in complete agreement that a single book can confidently be recommended without having first to provide a punch-card showing the full catalogue as read. And, there is no percentage is reading things that are a drag, either, I firmly believe. Life is too short, for want of a less-hackneyed phrase, and there already is not anywhere near enough time to read everything that oughta be read. I find it (however mildly) interesting, after reading a biography of some Somebody, to discover another and see how it compares. Even the politics affecting the biographers' information-gathering is relevant. To me, anyways. IF I am interested in the biographee in question in the first place. And as you probably know biography-reading as a Venn-diagram subset of plain old reading ain't for everybody, no matter the subject. Priscilla

You are John Osborne and I claim my five pounds! (Removed Ozzy-related pollution, if yer interested.)

Isn't it essential to read both--er, ALL--available biographies, if one means to survey properly? Cooper's is the authorized, so-called, but Chaney had the cooperation of Elizabeth David's surviving sister Priscilla (Sir Terence's also got one, a Priscilla for a sister; also William F. Buckley) so how UNauthorized is THAT, not too, I would think. Both are big, rangy, dirt-dishing, and the picture of her life that emerges is romantic and quite nearly tragic, really. Interesting to me how the dramatic personal details are not fully exploited in her own work, but there is a dark subtextural foreboding constantly present, right from the start, when she is reminiscing about bountiful fresh foodstuffs from the Levantine, as she terms it, whilst living under post-war privation. Puts one in mind of Stalin-era Soviet proproganda films depicting fabulous feasts, almost. I was interested to read more about her exactly because of this undercurrent of unease. And treating it as fiction? Adam, don't get so hot about this idea. For me, over here in the U.S., reading about such a rarified life as Elizabeth David's (among others, of course) can feel just fully as fanciful and exciting as fiction, and moreso than inept fiction, you know what I mean? I mean no disrespect whatsoever. It's just exactly the kind of thing that can introduce the blessedly corrupting idea that there are alternatives to the pre-edited few options presented by one's surrounding status quo, whether in cuisine or otherwise. Priscilla

Glad to read the Julian Barnes article, John. Thank you for providing the link. I got a laugh from his heart-stopping moment of uncertainty at Elizabeth David's instruction to melt tomatoes in the recipe he was using. The idea of melting as something that happens to vegetables, rather than only to the usual meltable suspects, is something strongly associated with her writing, for me, even though of course others use it the same way. Priscilla

Recently began Is There a Nutmeg in the House? a posthumously-published (2001) Elizabeth David collection. It’s been a keen pleasure reading her again. I consult her for recipes frequently, but have not revisited her longer prose in some time. I ripped through her books when I was younger, including English Bread and Yeast Cookery, and Salt, Spices, and Aromatics in the English Kitchen, as well as the famous, invaluable Continental titles. Also an earlier collection of short pieces, An Omelet and a Glass of Wine, and later, initially dutifully, the fascinating and high-quality Harvest of the Cold Months, super-dense, but so worthwhile. Two recent biographies and that’s the whole shebang, I believe. She is adamantly opinionated--I imagine she seems too stern for some readers, but I like all that. Given a respectable foundation, a strong stance is something I welcome. I like my authorities to be, well, authoritative. Her cookbooks are, in a way, cryptic—but they are complemented perfectly by, for instance, Marcella Hazan’s or Madeleine Kamman’s thoroughgoing, teacherly detail. So, what has Elizabeth David’s work ever done for you? Priscilla

So Oraklet cuts 00-type flour with pastry flour, even further reducing protein content. Hmmm. I have used fine semolina as specified by Marcella Hazan for that square-spaghetti-type fresh pasta, hmmm, tonnarelli is it called? Other than that, pasta-wise it's a-p all the way. Robert, thank you for the double-tile idea. I'll be enacting it asap. Priscilla