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I think one has to be careful about interpreting such "messages." My father, age 82, is from a small town and a whole 'nother world. The city in which I live is just under 500,000. He and my mother come here monthly for physician appointments, and they always take me to dinner in a mid-range restaurant. My father's opinion of tipping, is that no matter what the bill, $3 or $4 is adequate. I didn't find that out until about a year ago, until out of boredom, I happened to flip open the folder in which the ticket is brought to the table, just to check and make sure he didn't forget his credit card after signing the slip. I was horrified to see that the tip he left was less than 10%, especially since our waiter had been extremely professional and very attentive. We had received truly excellent service. The rest of the story isn't important here, but is entertaining, so I'll finish it. I didn't want to embarrass my father by making an issue of the tip. We were dining with other friends that night. I had no cash with me. I also had a screaming, pounding headache, and didn't want to leave the restaurant, get cash, and return. So finally, after frantically running about a dozen scenarios through my mind, I decided to order coffee for take out, since our meal was finished. That would allow me to put an extra tip on the ticket for my coffee: problem solved. However, when the waiter brought the coffee, he refused to allow me to pay for it, insisting that it qualified as a refill on the cup I'd had earlier. He and I argued, at first in a friendly manner, and then more seriously, and finally his graciousness and professionalism compelled him to accept my credit card. (The customer is always right!) I was able later to catch him and explain what I was doing, but he was still miffed over the scene that had arisen when I insisted he take my payment for the coffee, and he insisted it wasn't necessary. Long story short: I put a $10 tip on a $2 cup of coffee. And I really don't even like that restaurant's coffee. And it was just last night that after dinner, I surreptitiously slipped a folded $5 bill under the saucer for a coffee cup as I left the table after dining with my parents. I hope our waiter found it. I know our bill was well over $50, and I saw a couple of $1 bills sticking out of the folder, but I have no idea whatever else might have been in there. We've spoken to Dad about this several times, and he just becomes defensive. I can only assume that he isn't tipping appropriately. And believe me, it has nothing to do with the quality of the service or any messages. He's just a cheapskate!

I think we should be careful here about trashing this hostess. We really need to know more about her motivations. If she'd been the woman who is my best friend, she would have been asking out of a misguided motivation to be an excellent hostess. (Martha, Junior.) This woman, bless her heart, is always trying to think of ways to make guests more comfortable, or to put on little finishing touches to make something more special for a guest. And misguided is the word here. She means well, but ... oh, let's not go there. She's a wonderful friend otherwise. If she'd been a certain family member, now deceased, she would have done it because she's a frigging control freak and she is furious because they wouldn't let her bring dessert, since everyone "knows" that dessert is her specialty and nobody does it better than she. (In her humble opinion.) She cannot stand to not be the center of attention and she WILL, believe me, have the last word. We still laugh about the time she was serving dessert at her house, and came out of the kitchen to ask, "Now can everyone eat a fourth of a pie?" Of course, no one did, and she was crabby and irritated all evening because she baked four pies for a total of ten people, and now she had all that leftover pie. And of course her feelings were hurt and she let us know it. After years and years of this crap, none of us felt guilty. RIP. If she'd been one of my co-workers, well, her opinion is that anything sweet is improved by Cool Whip, and she just wanted everyone else to enjoy it as much as she did. Of course, none of this changes the desired outcome: not to have Cool Whip on the brownies. And my suggested answer would be something like, "Well, I don't like brownies with Cool Whip and I'm not sure whether others do, either. Why don't we just make it available and let each person decide?"

One of my favorite Valentine's Day recipes is one I haven't made in years, but I have really fond memories of it. I think the recipe in the magazine called it "Chocolate Bombe" but in our family it's "Mt. Vesuvius." It starts with a standard brownie recipe baked in a pan big enough to make the brownies about 3/4" to 1" thick. (Probably a half sheet pan.) Find a bowl to use as a mold, and make a paper pattern that will allow it to be lined without gaps. Cut the brownies out and line the bowl. Fill the bowl with a bittersweet chocolate mousse. You can use extra pieces of brownie to make a layer about halfway, to provide a little stability. Refrigerate several hours and turn out onto a plate. Cover with a chocolate glaze, poured on to cover unevenly. Another wonderful dessert used to be available at a local restaurant, which called it "Chocolate Sack." They covered the inside of a very small, oiled chocolate paper bag with tempered chocolate, allowed it to harden, then peeled the chocolate away. The sack was filled with chocolate mousse, whole fresh fruit, mainly berries, and garnished with creme anglaise. I think a similar thing could be done with that technique of coating balloons with swirled white and dark chocolate, and then the balloons are removed. I have a feeling this has been done to death in the pastry world, but among mere mortals it never fails to impress. For me, Valentine's Day desserts should be something different and delightful, that wouldn't be done on most other occasions.

I think cooking is first, because it's both intellectual and creative. If it wasn't followed by cleaning up, I'd like it even more. Eating is second, especially when the recipe turns out really well. I've gotten over that depressed-and-defeated thing when stuff doesn't turn out. Toss it out and it's a new day. Planning is two stages; one is great and the other is dreadful. I love to go through cookbooks and find things to make. I'm still trying to work out a system that allows me to find recipes I ran across a couple of weeks ago. Now where did I see that? Website? Which cookbook? Or was it a magazine? Where was it????? The second stage is shopping, and that absolutely drives me nuts. Our new Super Target has things the other stores don't, but it's on the opposite end of town from where I live. Arugula? Haven't found it yet. Fennel? If it's not at Target, forget it. Fresh seafood? Probably not, unless it's special ordered. Even something like fresh herbs can be frustrating to find. It just seems like I purchase ingredients for a recipe, and can find all but one... and the ingredients sit in the fridge and rot while I'm trying to find that last package of fresh basil or whatever. Like I said, it drives me nuts.

Do let us know what you come up with!!!! Enquiring minds, you know...

I try to bring my lunch every day, and even freeze soups and portion refrigerated leftovers specifically for that purpose. The problem is, however, that I work in a really small office. In the kitchen is a bar (which hasn't been stocked with liquor for years) at which I can sit and eat; adjoining the kitchen is also a library where I can eat if none of the attorneys are meeting with clients in there. The problem is the office curmudgeon; if he's around, I try to figure something else out. His eating habits are beyond strange. He whines about never getting to eat lunch, but he does, nearly every day. If he sees me salt something, he'll enter a self-righteous diatribe about how he never eats salt. Problem is, his two main food groups appear to be candy, which I see him eat because the candy basket is on my desk, and liquor. Occasionally he'll buy some special low-cholesterol pseudo cheese and put that on a bagel. He's one miserable human being who eats miserable food, and I'd rather eat whatever I can afford at McDonald's every day, than eat anything, no matter how good it is, with him in the same room.

Ah yes, the exploding microwaved water phenomenon. A hazard indeed. But it once saved me from having a conversation with my mother that I didn't want to have, and it took less than a week for the burns on my thighs to heal, so it was worth it. I can't think of any weird concoctions I've made at work, but in an office I worked in a few years ago, a certain Sheriff's officer would stop by and make coffee. He'd put salt in it. Said it was a trick he learned in the Navy. He loved it, but no one else could stand it. It did make for a smoother cup, if you could get past that briny flavor. But when he was eventually killed in the line of duty, it helped a lot to be able to laugh at Ken and his horrible coffee when the pain became just too much. He and the coffee are both unforgettable. I'd love to have him back, but he would have to leave his coffee in Heaven.

I'm glad to hear there is a good reason for having some of these things around. But other than having them used by children, they just seem to be another way for people not to learn to cook. I am a gadget person myself, but I try to evaluate the usefulness of the items before I buy them. I do have a battery-operated pepper grinder, for example, but I also have arthritis in my hands and there are times it's just a godsend. But the little light that comes on, so that you can see how much pepper you've used, turns a useful item into one that's also really cool. I can understand, though, why people who have healthy, strong hands would consider it to be utterly ridiculous.

I've had the same problem, only with my husband. It took me 3 years to get him to tell me why he didn't like my meatloaf. I finally told him that I knew he didn't like it because he didn't devour the leftovers like he did with other meat dishes, and if he didn't fess up, he was going to get stuck with eating meat loaf he didn't like, because I had no intention of not making it. I also told him I wasn't going to get all insulted over it, I just wanted to know what I needed to change. So he finally said, in a very quiet voice, "it's too dry." Gee, if he'd told me that when I asked him 3 years earlier, he could have enjoyed a lot more meat loaf! Isn't marriage wonderful?

Don't be too surprised if the day comes when you no longer want them. This time last year, my New Year's resolution was to eat a minimum of 3 servings of fruit, and 3 of vegetables every day, plus to just generally improve my eating habits. So one day in late February, when the grocery, the night before, had had only bright green bananas and I was in banana withdrawal, I decided to treat myself with something I only rarely would allow myself to have. You know those little powdered sugar donuts that come 6 to a package? I had a passion for those things. There was a time in my life when I had them for breakfast every day, and often had to talk myself out of a second package. (And not always succeeded.) Mid-morning at work, I broke open the package, poured myself a fresh cup of coffee, and proceeded to chow down. Ugh. What had been a craving was now a loathing. They tasted heavy, strange, and artificial, and I couldn't stand them. I even had a second bite to make sure I wasn't imagining things. But it had happened: my palate had changed because of all the fresh fruit and vegetables I was eating, and I no longer have any desire to have anything to do with them. That's a good thing. I think.

Okay, I'd like to hear some opinions on an appliance I saw at Target this morning. It's a mashed potato maker. I think the box says you can also steam other vegetables in it. You still have to peel and slice the potatoes. You still have to add water. But this appliance steams the potatoes and apparently then whips them with some beaters I believe I saw in the picture on the box. The only appliance I can think of that is stupider than this is the hotdog maker. You put hotdogs in certain slots and buns in other slots, and in a minute or so you have a heated hot dog and bun. The only reason I can think of to have this around, is if you have children who are hungry when they get home from school ... it'll be an hour or so before there's an adult in the house... and you don't want the kids using the stove and you don't have a microwave. Weigh in on this weighty matter, eGulleters.

When I'm stuck in a position like this, I try and make it clear that taste is an individual thing. Now that I'm entering the second half-century of my life, my own tastes have changed immensely. Everything that is fine to someone else, is too salty for me. I love a good chocolate dessert, but it can't be overly sweet. (15 years ago, that was not the case. Nothing was ever too sweet.) So I try to go into an informative mini-essay about how... for example... I used to like Velveeta until I discovered _____ cheese. And if I have some in my fridge, I'll offer a taste. And I'll try to find some excellence to point out... such as not having overcooked the dish, or having the dicing done to exactly the right size, or something like that. But I use "I think..." to start out a lot of sentences, to emphasize that my opinion isn't necessarily everybody else's opinion. There's nothing wrong with saying, "I know millions of people love it, but I've never been much of a fan of Velveeta." You kind of have to gauge the sensitivity of the person, and try to figure out if they are trawling for compliments or if they are asking you to educate them. Some people really do want to learn, and are anxious for you to share your secrets. But you're still walking on thin ice here.

I had forgotten a few things. Like frozen Milky Way candy bars. Worth spending $ at the dentist to keep my crowns in shape so that I can eat them. My other indulgence: Stop at the grocery salad bar for a small container of iceberg lettuce. Used to be able to get it at McDonald's, but they've gone upscale on me and are serving fancier stuff these days. Has to be iceberg. Then go to Sonic, order a Frito Chili Pie, and dump it on the lettuce and eat. In the summer, this concoction MUST be accompanied by a cherry limeade, easy on the cherry. Yuuum. I also stopped at Arby's yesterday on my lunch hour and ordered one of their Market Fresh Chicken Salad Sandwiches. Not bad, for fast food. It won't become an addiction, but it's nice to know it's out there when I want something fast and not fried. At 770 calories, it's not extremely healthy, but the fat content is better than some things, and it does have 9 grams of fiber.

Thank you, Andie and Doc! Man, I love eGullet.

he he he he he Are you my long-lost sibling? *twitch* *twitch* The only reason my mother got my cookbooks right at Christmas was because I gave her a list, complete with a physical description of McGee's book ("red cover") and a full-paragraph description of why the 2nd edition was important. Bless her heart, she actually read the list this year, and scored a home run.

Yes, this fits me to a T, too: I spend the day thinking about food; I spend my lunch hour reading cookbooks. I know the operating hours of every grocery worth going to, so that I can make a mad dash after work before they close. My mom gave me 5 cookbooks for Christmas. My husband gave me another 3. And I ordered several more with my year-end bonus money. For my upcoming birthday, my husband is giving me a cooking class at the local Williams-Sonoma, so that I can meet other foodies to talk cooking with--and quit boring him to death. And my Christmas money from my boss will buy goodies from Dean & DeLuca, as soon as they come in... I am still glowing from Thanksgiving 2003, when my very very anal ("I don't eat vegetables") nephew complimented my sweet potatoes. When I ran across the recipe in a magazine a few months ago, I got to relive the whole thing again. Oh yeah...

I second the above nominations, but want to include the importance of getting McGee's 2nd edition. The first is an oldie but a goodie, but the information in the 2nd is far more complete.

Well, I'm impressed, for what it's worth. That roasted tomato and asparagus salad thing looks especially wonderful, and especially do-able at home. Care to share details? Also, the "smoked paprika oil" -- is that something you made on site, or something you purchased? I'm always looking for stuff like that ... whether in a bottle or in a recipe. That leftover turkey I brought for lunch just got a lot less exciting. But my compliments on the pics, Tony. You guys can cook for me anytime!

That's a whole 'nother thread unto itself! Sad but true; some of my favorite food was introduced to me by people I no longer care to associate with.

I'm definitely not an expert, but all of the chai recipes I've seen, start with black tea and spices are added. Seems like I read an article a few years ago indicating that chai is somewhat individual, in that everybody makes it differently in India, where I believe it originated. Can't back any of this up with references, sorry!

While it would be helpful to know what you've got, I will tell you that I picked up Portale's "Simple Pleasures" a few nights ago, and it's keeping me occupied.

I just made a salad out of Alfred Portale's book, Simple Pleasures. It's watermelon, cherry tomatoes, red onion, cucumber, lime juice, S&P, and olive oil. The first taste was kinda strange. By the time I finished my little sample bowl, I kinda liked it, although it's quite a different thing for me. After it chills for an hour per directions, who knows. I may have a new passion. As I remember, I didn't care for tabbouleh the first time I ate it. But something kept bringing me back, and now I just love it. What foods did you not like the first time you ate them, but now you do?

I don't know that I've ever been this honest with anyone before. Please be kind. I love: McD's fries. Popeye's spicy chicken, and their biscuits with butter & honey, or even margarine & honey if that's all I can get my hands on. Hagen Daazs Vanilla Swiss Almond ice cream. Breyer's neapolitan ice cream. Pepperidge Farm Bordeaux cookies. Okay, I can do this. (Summoning up courage here.) I love the funnel cakes at the state fair and the local festivals. With powdered sugar or with the creamy topping. I used to love: Cinnamon raisin biscuits at Hardee's. All of our Hardee's are gone. I don't even know if they still make them. At a now-defunct chain called Grandy's: the cinnamon rolls and the scrambled eggs were wonderful. The rolls were bathed in melted butter, and the eggs were incredibly creamy. It was worth every cent and every pound.

I had a space between the deep freeze and the wall that wasn't doing anything productive, so I bought a plastic 4-drawer unit from an office supply store. It's about 4 feet high, and I'd say each drawer is about 10 inches deep. It's been a godsend. It holds various baking 'stuff' close enough to the kitchen that it's not a pain to retrieve and put away. I also have some boxes I bought from Tupperware a few years ago (but you could use shoe or sweater boxes from a discount store) and one houses Kitchen Aid attachments, another food processor attachments, etc. Separating the things I use all the time from the things I use only occasionally has definitely been the answer in my kitchen. And I do not allow ANYONE but me to unload my dishwasher or put kitchen equipment away. My dear husband, bless his heart, genuinely tries to get things back where they belong, but if he doesn't it can cause a real crisis!

When your spouse accuses you of reading cookbooks like novels, and not only do you not deny it, you have a little of that deer-in-the-headlights look, because you don't understand why anyone would do it differently. When your co-workers greet you on Monday morning with, "Well, what did you cook this weekend?" and then behind your back, they whisper, "Do you believe it? She really eats that!" When you get every answer right in the food categories on Jeopardy. When your friends call you, convinced that you will have the authoritative answer on the right way to make tuna casserole, and then they get angry when you tell them there is no right way, and yes you can use Cream of Celery soup instead of Cream of Mushroom soup without worrying about doing any lasting damage to the universe. And then they ask you how you make it, and you tell them you do it from scratch, and don't use canned cream soup. And then they say, "oh my gawd" and hang up on you without saying goodbye. When your mother calls you for cooking advice.