Ellen Shapiro

When I was in college I ate a pint of Ben & Jerry's every day. I went to "Ben & Jerry's University" (the University of Vermont). We could buy Ben & Jerry's . . . factory seconds . . . in the campus bookstore . . . and pay with our UVM meal cards . . . I was also swimming competitively at the NCAA level. So I was at rough equilibrium. Then I stopped swimming. But I kept eating the ice cream. Talk about the Freshman Fifteen! Years later, when I was working in publishing, I was on the marketing team for Ben & Jerry's book. We went up to Vermont to meet with them and the first thing I did upon meeting Ben was I started yelling at him for causing all that weight gain in college. He must have thought I was nuts. Or maybe he had heard it all before. Little did I know then that I might someday be able to sue.

I have PADI Divemaster certification which is a professional-level SCUBA certification. I never had any problem keeping up with the coursework. I'm a far better swimmer and as good a diver as many working professional Divemasters. Still I feel I spent a lot of money on that Divemaster certification based on a mistaken belief that there was something "better" about the professional certification as opposed to the top recreational certification of Master Scuba Diver. Since I've never led or taught dive groups much of what I learned in Divemaster certification was not relevant to me and I probably would have been better served by building the Master Scuba Diver certification out of five specialties. I don't exactly have any regrets, and it's always fun to pull out a Divemaster C-card at a dive shop when they ask for proof of certification, but it would have been nice for an experienced professional instructor to sit down with me and help me see the reality of my needs. Who knows if I would have listened, though!

Trifle Welsh rarebit (Wales) Deep-fried Mars bar (Scotland)

Orlando is almost 10% Jewish so somebody must know what "mensch" means but probably not anybody at Dolly's place. Every time I hear about Dolly I think of two things. One is the sandwich at the Stage Deli. (24) DOLY PARTON......................... 12.95 (TWIN ROLLS OF PASTRAMI AND CORNED BEEF) The other is the time I was in Hickory, North Carolina, working on my furniture book and got to chatting with the super-friendly hotel desk clerk who eventually after numerous interactions asked if I was planning to visit Dollywood. Not wanting to be disrespectful I turned it around and asked him to talk about Dollywood. "Well I just love it. It's my favorite place on Earth. When I'm feeling stressed out by my job I just go on out to Dollywood and get closer to God."

There's rationing and there's rationing! The UK and Europe had it a lot worse than the US, for a lot longer, and their civilian populations were in the line of fire. But my father, who came of age in the WWII era in New Haven and served post-war in Keflavik, has talked about rationing my whole life and it has rubbed off on the family and our attitudes about food.

One of the nicest state-park campgrounds you could ever hope for is in Cave Junction, and you'll be right near Foris vineyards which is a fun spot to visit especially if you can call ahead and weasel your way into a real tour.

There are some restaurants like Union Square Cafe, which when I eat there (almost always for lunch) I am guilty of this very thing. I always plan to order something different but when I get there, because I don't get to eat there often, I always end up ordering the tuna burger. It's so good and I enjoy it so much and, to make matters worse, it's so good that all other tuna burgers pale by comparison so that's the only place I eat them. I might as well give up and just acknowledge that at lunch at Union Square I'll only ever eat tuna burgers. There, I've said it.

FG pretty much summed up our dining experience when he's "on the job" (cop speak) and it can be maddening because there are times when I want to order a dish I've already had but I'm not allowed (well, maybe if I beg and plead).

Jin, sweet dreams . . . a few more cheese photos for you to sleep on . . .

I guess I can’t emphasize enough how personal (animal?) the farm is—I was so happy when Jonathan introduced us to each cow by name. When he introduced us to Heike, I chuckled to myself as I have a friend from Germany named Heike and I had never met another Heike before I met the herd. Now I know two lovely Heikes. After we were introduced to the first row of milking cows, he corralled us over to the other side saying “You haven’t met the other cows yet. This is Eeyore and this is . . .” I didn’t even know that Chanticleer was Chanticleer until Jonathan posted on his behalf.

Yes Chanticleer cracked us up! We spared you our rooster story (I guess we can save that for next time--and our crowing as well) but every time he crowed, we'd glance sideways at each other grinning. We'd love to come back for baking day--especially since we got to watch you build the fire. I'd suggest we throw a couple of extra loaves in the oven on our baking day--considering what we did to your left-overs yesterday! Sign me up for the raisin bread.

We spent the day today with Jonathan White ("curdnerd" on eGullet) at his Bobolink Dairy in Vernon, NJ. Jonathan's land is right on the NJ/NY border--literally, the farm consists of land in both states--but the address is NJ so this is going in the NJ forum. Camaraderie, recreation, and personal interest were the primary purposes of the visit, so we didn't take notes or ask a lot of probing interview-type questions. I did take a bunch of photos, however, and perhaps the curdnerd, the Fat Guy, and others will chime in and elaborate on what the pictures show. We began in the milking barn at around 8:00am (which required a 6:30am departure from Manhattan). Jonathan introduced us to each cow by name. Here are his ladies. It's impossible to overemphasize how well Jonathan treats his animals. Many of them, he rescued from factory farms and nursed back to health. You can see it in their bearing and attitude, and especially in the behavior of the happy and inquisitive calves. The calves feed out of a simulated-udder contraption imported from New Zealand (much of the equipment for the kind of sustainable farming and grass-feeding that Jonathan practices comes from NZ). In the dairy, the curds are cut. Then they hang out for awhile until Jonathan decides it's time to put them in molds. Most of the whey is drained off (it will be fed to the calves). Today Jonathan was making blue cheese, so to the drained curds he added salt and bits of bread containing wild cultures. Then the curds are hand-packed into molds. An entire day's milking (actually half each of two days because it's the evening milk from the night before plus the morning milk from that day) at Jonathan's farm currently makes 8 blue cheeses of about 10 pounds each. He will grow (the farm is less than a year old and he is expanding the herd), but not by much. Now that's artisanal. The newly made cheeses go on racks in the dairy for a day or two (these are the previous days' efforts). Then they get moved into Jonathan's ripening room, which is one of the neatest places on the planet to hang out. Curdnerd, Fat Guy, and I tasted a bunch of cheeses, and it's no exaggeration to say that of the seven or eight that we tasted, all were superlative and three were better than any cheese we've had in the US and as good as any we've had in Europe--and significantly better than most. These are all raw-milk cheeses, aged the legally required 60 days (longer for blue, cheddar, and the like), and they rule. They're so good you laugh when you taste them. We also engaged in miscellaneous other tasks around the farm. Jonathan is the consummate multitasker. He has chickens and a rooster (Fat Guy was given the task of letting the chickens out of the coop; you should have seen the quick look of panic that came over him before he quickly recovered and put on his poker face.) Yes I know that's the rooster and not a chicken. Jonathan also has a massive stone oven in which he bakes bread on weekends. He also teaches baking classes on some weekdays, so we got to watch him build a fire today in preparation for tomorrow's class. Here's Jonathan standing before the beast. And here he is out in the pasture checking on the readiness of the hay. Also in the pasture, Momo (our bulldog) and the cows enjoyed one another's company, engaging in several prolonged staring contests. Not sure what they were thinking as they watched him walk off the field. Finally, the makings of our lunch and cheese-tasting, which we enjoyed with Jonathan and his very lovely dance-instructor and business-manager wife.

I'm glad you asked. For example, I was assuming that with the company being named "Just Born" and making all that Easter stuff and being located in of all places Bethlehem, PA, it must be some kind of Christian fundamentalist thing. But check this out: in the pages and pages of Peeps information, there is a history of the Just Born company. Turns out Born is the founder's last name. This guy, Sam Born, was I'm guessing a European Jewish immigrant, especially given that his brother-in-law and co-founder of Just Born was a guy named Irv Shaffer. So that's one pretty interesting tidbit. Oh, how did they get to Bethlehem, PA? Well, they actually started the business on the Lower East Side of Manhattan in 1923, but in 1932, with the Depression putting so many factories out of business, they decided to move into a closed-down factory in Bethlehem, PA, where they remain to this day. And I'm just getting started!

I was reminded today of a wonderfully charming speech given several years ago at a friend's rehearsal dinner. His father, from Taiwan, spoke of how he had in his life had "many happy day," but of those "many happy day," this day was surely the happiest. Well, I won't go so far as to say that yesterday was the happiest of my many happy day, but it does rank right up there because I received in the mail yesterday . . . . . . free Peeps! Upon opening the carton (yes, carton) of Peeps samples from the Just Born PR department, all doubts I ever had about my decision to become a journalist evaporated. Sure, money can buy you all the Peeps you want. But that's not the same as free peeps. And no matter how much money you have you can't get some of the Peeps I got unless you buy the company, because I got not only the Patriotic Peeps (which you can get in the store now) but also PREVIEW PEEPS! Yes, I have advance samples of the Peeps they'll be selling for Halloween 2003 and Christmas 2003. I am also now in proud possession of the MOTHER LODE OF PEEP INFORMATION. I have pages and pages of it, and also information (and samples) of Mike & Ike and other goodies made by Just Born. I will be releasing this information bit by bit so as to keep this topic lively for days, weeks, months, years to come!

On the Trans-Canada Highway, Tim Horton's has saved me more than once. While the coffee nowhere near rivals Dunkin Donuts, it'll get you through in a pinch. There were a few times last year on our cross Canada drive--I can't tell you how happy I was to see a Tim Horton's on the horizon.

The really fun thing about really cheap wine is that if you run out of things to talk about during dinner you can always fall back on, "I can't believe this cost $4; how can they even make the bottle for that much, no less the actual wine?" That's always good for a few minutes of filler or a diversion from an uncomfortable subject. "I mean, they have to grow the grapes, harvest the grapes, make the wine, put it in the bottles, and ship it all the way here from Australia on a boat; how is this possible?" "And it's pretty darn good too. I bet if you put this in a blind tasting against a $20 bottle most people couldn't tell the difference." "If they sold this for more money, more people would probably buy it! They'd think it's better!" "I can't believe Costco has such a great wine department. Did you know they sell more Dom Perignon than anyone else?"

The TravelCenters of America (TA)--those mega-multi-purpose installations found on so many American highways--just released a list of the 5 things people look for when road-tripping: I personally almost never have a meal at a place like this--I use them mostly for snacks (sodas, chips, candy; mmm...candy), gas, and bathrooms. What about you?

Everyone certainly seems to be impressed by the ancient piece of chocolate. Admittedly, because there was such a buzz going about it, I (having missed it the first time through) insisted on going back through the exhibit to find it. Let's just say I'd have been much more excited about it had there not been so much hype generated--by the time I saw it, I found it difficult not to be disappointed about the pebble-sized chocolate--no matter how ancient.

When you approach the exhibition there are several chocolate dresses on display. The exhibition itself is well put-together, and the AMNH has enhanced it with several items from its own collection, such as this cocoa-pod-shaped coffin from Ghana. The rest is what you'd expect from a first-rate museum exhibition: various storyboards, models, the oldest piece of actual chocolate extant (macroscopic), videos . . . The chocolate sculptures are not in the exhibition hall; they are in the museum's main rotunda. Hang an immediate right as soon as you enter from Central Park West. The workmanship and creativity on the sculptures is astounding. Unfortunately because they are behind glass they are tremendously difficult to photograph, especially Steve Klc's because it is the first in the series and therefore in the corner. Maybe Steve K can post about exactly what we're looking at here because I can't do it justice. The important thing to remember is that everything is chocolate. The colored things are chocolate paint, dyed chocolate, etc. You have to get up close and personal to appreciate fully the effort and thought that must have gone into these, each inspired by a different part of the museum's collection and each in a very distinct style. The food-and-art debate ends here. Immediately outside the exhibition is a chocolate shop, where you can purchase various trinkets. And upstairs is the chocolate cafe, where the media people (today was the press preview; the exhibition opens on the 14th of this month) were in a feeding frenzy, literally. You'll see in the last photo of this series what the typical reporter was loading onto her plate.

Name it.

Day two, clearly the word was out -- the crowds started accumulating early and they just kept growing. We got out of there at 3:00, before the crowd density reached the point at which atomic fission could occur. No way this event can be contained on 27th Street next year. I bet they're already looking for a bigger venue. The barbecue guys and the security guards had been working through the night to get the day's ration prepared and they were all looking pretty exhausted -- but happy. They were definitely pumped on account of the great reception they were getting from all the New Yorkers. I tried to catch up with the other three barbecue gods today because I had spent most of my time on day one with Ed Mitchell. So first I wandered by Chris Lilly's place -- that's Big Bob Gibson Bar-B-Q from Decatur, Alabama. He was just about to start in on a pork shoulder. He then applied his skilled hands to the shoulder, kind of massaging it into pulled pork. Right at the end he takes a knife to the bigger pieces to get them down to sandwichable size and, as he raises the knife, he yells to the crowd, "Watch out, it splatters!" Then he rolls it all up in a big clump in his paws and hands it off to the guy with the tray, adding things like, "Y'all may be lucky enough to get some of this one, it felt real good -- just right when I was choppin' it." You'll see in all the photos of the barbecue guys, they looked like they were about to collapse from the rain, the smoke, the intensity of the event -- they were borderline delirious. Then I caught up with Rick Schmidt from the Kreuz Market out of Lockhart, Texas. He was just about to put some sausages in the oven. And then he sharpened his knife in preparation for carving a shoulder. Mike Mills from the 17th Street Bar & Grill in Murphysboro, Illinois, was really happy with his ribs today. There he was, he sees these things every day, he can eat all he wants anytime, and a good batch still makes him smile. Then we went inside for a short film called Barbecue is a Noun, which was actually not a film but rather a preview of a film that is in the process of being made by two guys named Austin McKenna and Hawes Bostic. Austin McKenna was there to show the short film, and then he and Ed Mitchell (from Mitchell's Ribs, Chicken, & Barbecue in Wilson, North Carolina -- Ed was prominently featured in the film) took questions from the audience for about an hour. A sleep-deprived yet still energetic Danny Meyer introduced the panel. And that was the end of that. Fat Guy did a near-simultaneous tasting of all four of the imported barbecue styles today so I'm sure he'll report on that later, and he can fill you in on the talk.

Is it worth going? Not if you don't like barbecue! Otherwise, no question no question no question. Even if you lived in the South, even if you lived in Lockhart, even if you lived right in a barbecue pit, how often would you have the chance to sample all in one place, MetroCard-only travel expenses, no risk, six bucks a hit, the barbecue from Mike Mills (17th Street Bar & Grill, Murphysboro, Illinois), Rick Schmidt (Kreuz Market, Lockhart, Texas), Ed Mitchell (Mitchell's Ribs, Chicken, & Barbecue, Wilson, North Carolina), and Chris Lilly (Big Bob Gibson Bar-B-Q, Decatur, Alabama), plus our Ken Callaghan from Blue Smoke here in New York, New York, who was according to the word on the street holding his own just fine against the big boys? I started up the block and came upon Mike Mills's operation, where he was smoking ribs in plain sight. The deal is that for $6 (you buy coupons worth $1 each from the coupon booth and then spend them like cash anywhere in the event) you get a paper tray full of barbecue (whichever meat the particular joint is offering) plus usually some kind of bread and maybe a garnish. Some of the places also have sides at $1 each. Beer and such are available at another booth. At the Kreuz's booth you had a choice of sausage or beef shoulder, or a combination. I had planned to walk up the whole block and photograph each booth, the band, etc., but I saw this and stopped dead in my tracks: I knew the place doing the whole hog, Mitchell's, was the place to be, so I started hovering around their area, taking photos of the hog and the guys working in the trailer (as in tractor-trailer, 18-wheeler, 10-ton semi -- the Mitchell's crew had brought a whole pit-equipped Mack truck up from North Carolina for the event). Then I hit the jackpot, and the Mitchell's guys invited me up into the trailer to get a closer look and watch them tear down a whole hog. They start it by hand, literally. And then they move in with utensils to get at the rest of the meat. Next they hand-chop the meat with two cleavers. (Some lesser establishments use a mechanical grinder/chopper but the cleavers allow for bigger chunks and better flavor.) Chopping the meat not only aids in seasoning and saucing, but also allows them to mix all parts of the hog together so you get a little bit of everything in your portion. Then an army of men descends upon the chopped meat with vinegar, hot pepper flakes, and various other seasonings. It's all done by eye -- no preset measures. They all mix it up by hand to incorporate the seasonings. Finally, before being served, the pile of meat receives the blessing from the big man himself, Ed Mitchell. Next we went inside to the Jazz Standard (downstairs from Blue Smoke) for a panel discussion on barbecue, featuring the four pitmasters and hosted by journalists John T. Edge and Robb Walsh. I'll let Fat Guy fill you in on what was said, and he can also provide you with barbecue tasting notes, but here's the cast of characters. Rick Schmidt of the Kreuz Market in Lockhart, Texas Ed Mitchell of Mitchell's Ribs, Chicken, & Barbecue in Wilson, North Carolina Chris Lilly of Big Bob Gibson Bar-B-Q in Decatur, Alabama Mike Mills of the 17th Street Bar & Grill in Murphysboro, Illinois This was the first year of the Big Apple Barbecue Block Party yet even in the rain New Yorkers turned out in droves to sample the work of the masters. I wanted to get these photos up asap so that those of you tuning in to eGullet could have the chance to motivate and get there today -- you can read about it in the Times on Wednesday, after it's all over, or you can read about it here and still get there for day two. Never mind the weather. Get there right at noon for the shortest lines and best selection.

V -- I don't know what all the struggle is about, I just got an e-mail from Joey Spoon and he promised me that I could lose 82% of my body fat--and keep it off--in just a couple of months. I'm sure if you asked nicely, he'd help you too. I believe it because in the e-mail it says: "As seen on NBC, CBS, and CNN, and even Oprah!"

I was a marketing person so I'm blameless! Those pesky editors. I can't believe Random House is now my publisher, and I'm the pesky mid-list author who always bothers the poor marketing people. But I digress. Really, Joy's book is a great read. It made me want to be like her.

I was in marketing at RH when this came out, so I got a copy and read the first few pages just to get familiar with it. I wound up reading the whole thing. It's an excellent book -- a real American fairytale.