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  1. Well, gosh, it's been a LONG time since I posted anything, but I have to jump in here--even though it sounds like now you're not going to be in Fargo after all! Fargo's been absolutely innundated with chain crap over the last decade, following the population boom. But I'll second (and third, and fourth) the recommendation of the Hotel Donaldson, or the HoDo, on Broadway in downtown Fargo. They have an innovative menu and good drinks/taps. Great decor, too. My Mom and I always go there for lunch when we visit--they live in Moorhead. Definitely check them out next year when you go through there. Avoid the Old Broadway in downtown Fargo--it's not a chain, and it used to ROCK when I was growing up there, but now it's lame, lame, lame. It's like they're trying to be TGIFriday's (shudder). Best, Batgrrrl
  2. My favorite hardwood, which goes quite well with prime rib, is maple. However, Texans prefer post oak. If you've had smoked prime rib in Central Texas, you wouldn't argue with them. Mesquite and Hickory are widely available but they're very strong and can leave almost a chemically like taste. I've been burning through some ash and although it's my favorite for its burn characteristics (long and smooth), it can leave some of the same flavors as the mesquite and hickory. Fruit woods (apple, cherry, etc.) and alderwood tend to be not not smokey enough for beef, but they are great for poultry and fish. They also tend to be too light for pork. Typically hardware stores only have mesquite or hickory but you can try calling fireplace/wood fired stove shops as they tend have more variety in wood chips. edit: this is actual col klink!
  3. I just have to say, those of you who live within easy reach of a Trader Joe's, be very, very grateful. I just had an absolutely dismal experience at a grocery store here in Duluth. All I was craving was some pasta with pesto and shrimp. No pesto whatsoever (accompanied by blank stares when I asked), and only pre-cooked frozen shrimp available. I ended up with a frozen pizza. I miss Trader Joe's. Sweet heavens above, I miss Trader Joe's. Batgrrrl
  4. Thanks, everybody, for the congrats and advice! And fifi, yes, the wait and see thing is important. By the time the colonel made all of the manwich stuff for me, I had developed an aversion to beef. Can't even think about the stuff right now. But it's in the freezer, waiting for the day my tastes suddenly shift, as I suspect they will. So far I've lost 7+ pounds do to just not being able to stand the thought of food. I'm really looking forward to getting out of this first trimester, which should be happening in the next few weeks. Batgrrrl
  5. “My Last Duchess’s Last Lunch” (with apologies to Robert Browning) That’s my last Duchess painted on the wall, Eating her last lunch. I call That piece a wonder, now: Keller’s hands Worked busily a day, and there she stands. Will ‘t please you sit and look at her? I said “Keller” by design: for never saw Strangers like you that succulent foie gras, The rosy ripeness of the plump cherries, But to myself they turned (since none puts by The curtain I have drawn for you, but I) And seems as if they would ask me, if they durst, How such delicacies came there; so, not the first, Are you to turn and ask thus. Sir, ‘t was not Her husband’s presence only, called that spot Of joy into the Duchess’ cheek: perhaps Emeril chanced to say “Her napkin laps Over my lady’s wrist too much,” or Bourdain, “Wine Must never hope to reproduce the faint Half-flush that dies along her throat”: such stuff Was courtesy, she thought, and cause enough For calling up that spot of joy. She had A stomach—how shall I say?—too soon made full, Too easily satiated; she tasted whate’er She looked on, and her looks went everywhere. Sir, ‘t was all one! My favor at her plate, The streaming of the cabernet in her cup, The bough of cherries some officious fool Broke in the orchard for her, the white goose She hand fed hour by hour—all and each Would draw from her alike the approving speech, Or blush, at least. She thanked men,—good ! but thanked Somehow—I know not how—as if she ranked My gift of a two-pound truffle With anybody’s gift. Who’d stoop to blame This sort of trifling? Even had you skill In cooking—(which I have not)—to make your will Quite clear to such an one, and say, “Just this Or that in you disgusts me; here you miss, Or there exceed the mark”—and if she let Herself be lessoned so, nor plainly set Her teeth at you, forsooth, and asked for toothpicks, —E’en then would be some stooping; and I choose Never to stoop. Oh sir, she smiled, no doubt, Whene’er I passed her a dish; but who passed her dishes Without much the same smile? This grew; I commanded the chefs; Then all smiles stopped together. There she stands As if alive. Will ‘t please you rise? We’ll meet The company below, then. I repeat, The Count your master’s known generosity Is ample warrant that no scruple of appetite will go unwhetted; Though his fair daughter’s self, as I avowed At starting, is my object. Nay, we’ll go Together down, sir. Notice Julia, though, Basting a turkey, thought a rarity, Which Claus of Innsbruck cast in bronze for me! Batgrrrl link to the Browning poem I'm shamlessly borrowing from: http://stellar-one.com/poems/browning_robe...st_duchess.html
  6. St. Julia, because in a Thanksgiving show one year she actually dropped the turkey on the floor, picked it up, brushed it off and served it without batting an eye. Symbol: A floor you can eat off of. I also love her because I heard a radio interview with her (and I know I don't have this exactly, but it's the general gist of things) where the host got off on a tangent about trends in low-fat cooking, and when s/he asked St. Julia what she ate, she replied: "Gin and beef." End of conversation. Batgrrrl (who has never dropped a turkey on the floor, btw, and if I did I wouldn't serve it to company; my kitchen floor isn't quite that sanctified!)
  7. Nice article, Beans--thanks! I miss the Elysian brew pub, though when we left Seattle last summer I hadn't been there in quite a while. There IPA is indeed excellent--much more complex than many. It's the perfect companion to a good basket of fish and chips. Something about the way the hops and vinegar work together. Cheers, Batgrrrl
  8. And while you're making that chicken soup, stand near the stove and inhale as much steam as possible, if you've got the strength--it'll help knock loose the nasty gunk in your lungs. Milk I could never stomach when fighting a cold--it coats the throat too much like what's there already. But hot water or tea with lemon and/or whiskey is definitely a go. Good luck--above all else, sleep, sleep, sleep. Batgrrrl
  9. Welcome, Black Tie! This is an interesting thread, because last summer a friend threw a gin and British food potluck, where everybody brought something to eat and a different bottle of gin to do taste tests. The conclusion we came to was that different gins work better in different situations; I can't remember the specifics (if col klink sees this, maybe he can chime in--he was there too and has a better booze memory than I do--I tend to be under the table after a few tastings and am therefore not the best resource!), but I know that we decided Tanq 10 made excellent martinis, but tasted rather off in a gin and tonic; there was another very high level gin that was better with tonic, but less interesting in a martini. I was intrigued, because it's somthing I haven't noticed with other kinds of alcohols, though it does make sense I suppose. Man, I could use a gin and tonic.
  10. beans--LOVE your avatar! That's my kind of snowman! Batgrrrl
  11. We've discussed that possibility as well--ideally, I'd like to have a hand-crank ice crusher installed with the ice maker, so that at least the general feel of cranking something would be held over from the flour sifter. On another note, I knew a couple in Seattle who had a minibar that was shaped like the prow of a little ship, complete with ropes and little life-preservers, all out of beautiful painted/polished wood, including the "deck"--the bartender stood behind it, looking out over the "front" of the ship which faced the room, and there were of course shelves and doors and everything else built in. It was a long time ago, but I remember it being very cool. Batgrrrl
  12. Anything Hajime does with albacore, at Mashiko's. I'm a whore and a half for those! Damn...got myself jonesin' and I'm halfway across the country...
  13. Batgrrrl

    What is Booty Food?

    So, wait... You're both blindfolded, and cramming food toward each other? That's not erotic, that's a food fight! Not to mention chilly! Good point, JennyUptown-- Naked and in front of the fridge? "Bing Cherries" come to mind as a booty food! Batgrrrl
  14. corn-on-the-cob (can I use dashes?)
  15. In A.S.Byatt's Possession the male poet writes a letter to the female poet in which he uses the "cool green circles" of the cucumber sandwiches served at the tea where they met as a metaphor for her subdued demeanor. Ever since then, I have found cucumber sandwiches incredibly sexy. And speaking of children's books, anybody else know "The Quangle Wangle's Hat"? In it, a whole bunch of funny creatures march off to live in said hat, and have tea. Again with the tea. I just love tea--the ritual even more than the beverage.
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