chromedome

Oh, and an afterthought... For centuries whale meat, like beaver, was considered to be "not meat" in the Catholic countries of Europe, and therefore suitable for Lenten or fast days. The Basques and Scandinavians, in particular, had a thriving trade in catering to this little bit of culinary hypocrisy.

In Northern Newfoundland, in the 1970's, whale was occasionally eaten in the outports. I know that smaller whales often became fouled in fish nets, which may be why they were taken in the first place; once the animal's dead (and your your nets are fouled, which means no fish), why would you not? Toughness is certainly a characteristic of most of the animal's flesh. This is only to be expected, since most of the whale's muscle is used constantly for swimming; therefore tender little-used muscles are hard to come by. There are many ways to compensate for that, of course. The way my father prepared it, when we were given some, was by long braising in the oven. It came out pretty tender. The flesh was rich and dark, definitely gamier than beef. I'd say it had more in common with seal or moose; that rich dark gaminess that some perceive as "livery." I don't quite make that association myself, but then again I like liver... I'd be chary of whale meat, on the whole, because so many species are dangerously depleted. Assuming that I knew the animal was humanely harvested, and that it was from a non-threatened species, I would not have any real objection to cooking and eating it.

I'll cheerfully join the chorus of "oyster" fans, and second Luckylies on the virtues of the tail. That latter may be hereditary, as my mother always made a point of sneaking that little tidbit as soon as a bird hit the table (before, if she was the one cooking it!). On one occasion, when I was about six, we were visiting at the house of some friends. I wandered in from the living room, where the kids were eating, in time to see Mom in her usual fork-first powerdive at the roast chicken's nether regions. "Yep," I said, to general hilarity, "ol' Mom sure likes her tail...."

FWIW, I worked at a restaurant here in Edmonton that used three GE Profile ranges in lieu of a commercial range. On the whole, they worked well in very heavy usage (five course meals, up to 80 covers a night) and were in general very reliable. We had a couple of incidents with oven doors crapping out - again, bear in mind the ultra-heavy usage - and the igniters will need to be replaced periodically, but for the beating they took they were surprisingly reliable. I'd expect that for home use your experience would be just fine, though if you're confident enough with electrical wiring to replace your own igniters that would probably be a plus.

Make herbed butter. Put some of your windfall into the food processor with a stick or two of butter, and whiz it until it's well mixed. Shape into a log, and freeze. When you want to use a little, slice off a disc and have at it: melted on a piece of fish or chicken, added to an omelette, or whatever. It's a good way to preserve most herbs.

Almond milk was widely used for custards in the middle ages. I haven't had occasion to play with it myself (ie, haven't made up a satisfactory excuse yet) but it is said to work well.

I'd second the Black Box. It's eminently drinkable table wine at a very reasonable price. Up here in the Great White North it sells for about $40CDN, and each box is the equivalent of four bottles. The wine inside would be comparable to those selling at $15-$17 locally, so it's pretty good value. The contents are good for about a month after opening, which is pretty close to a glass a day.

Toss them with beaten egg whites. Drain thoroughly in a china cap or colander, but don't let them dry. Toss with granulated or castor sugar, as well as any spices you deem desirable. Spread on a baking sheet in a single layer, and bake in a moderate oven until crisp. Not prone to clumping or gumming up, but don't make them on a rainy day unless you're serving them immediately.

Ling, I have three of those Eurodelices books, and while I mine them for ideas, I don't trust any of those recipes without trying them first. They tend to be rather vague at crucial points; I think some of the chefs feel that you should have to figure things out for yourself. Don't get me wrong, I love the series, but it's not one of those scenarios where the recipes are bulletproof. I'm enjoying all the give and take on this thread, and look forward to the end result.

That's frikkin' amazing! Fit for the Patrician himself (if the Librarian doesn't get there first). I have to show this to my Pratchett-ophile kids tomorrow. On second thought, they'll expect me to duplicate it...

My kids are both better cooks than their mom, anyway.

Mache, try using one or (preferably) two cake-decorating "nails" in the 9X13 pan. Place them in the bottom of the pan with the points facing up, at about, oh, the "40-yard lines" of the pan. The nails conduct heat into the middle of the cake and help it to bake evenly. I wonder if the coffee that's so common in these recipes is intended to simulate the darkness and flavour of the buckwheat honey? Just a thought.

Interesting...I've never seen maraschinos (or any other cherry, for that matter) on a pineapple upside-down cake. Is this a purely American thing, or have I just somehow not encountered it here in Canada?

Excellent! I'd gone looking for one while I was in cooking school, and was surprised and dismayed to find that it didn't exist.

I personally like Peter Reinhart's BBA for the depth of information he provides, and I find the recipes to be very good (also I like getting baker's percentage even for small-batch recipes). Having said that, I think the Hamelman book would be the one I would get if I had to have only *one* bread book. Also, FWIW, it's the standard text used by the baking program at the excellent trade school here in Edmonton.

One man I knew in Halifax, who operated a lucrative lunchtime business for the downtown trade, summed up his own prerequisites neatly: "Fifty thousand in the bank for emergencies, and enough capital or credit that you don't need to make a profit for a year." He was on his third restaurant at that time, having sold the previous two at an insane profit after running each one for 2-4 years.

Gee, who knew there were so many of us? I sat up late one night at the age of 38, telling myself that it was time to decide what I wanted to do when I grow up. Cooking was the only thing that came to mind, so off I went to cooking school: one year at NSCC in Halifax, and one year at NAIT after moving to Edmonton. I was infinitely better prepared for school than most of the younger students in my class, even the ones with kitchen experience; and in neither school was I the oldest in my class. I've been out of school for 2 1/2 years, now, and have recently been promoted to chef at my workplace. Even more exciting, I'll be travelling east in a few weeks to meet with the proprietors of a boutique tourist-trail hotel, who are interested in offering up an ownership stake to a chef who can help them grow the business. Without the years I'd spent in sales, and the varied life experiences I'd had before becoming a cook, I would not have this opportunity right now. Follow your heart, kiddo! Age is no object, if the passion is there.

We used it a lot at the fine-dining restaurant I worked at. I found that it melted well and was not quite as viscous as Callebaut (nor yet as runny as Lindt). To my taste, the flavour is earthier and less fruity/acidic than Callebaut. I prefer it for applications where the end flavour is to be less sweet than bitter. It's a solid product at a reasonable price, in my experience.

My first cookbook, and the only one for most of my childhood, was my mother's copy of The American Woman's Cookbook. It's one of those classic-style all-inclusive cookbooks, like Joy, though lacking the Rombauers' exuberant chattiness (probably why Joy is still selling...). I liked that it laid out all the rules for entertaining, and formal cutlery arrangement, etc. I now own my grandmother's earlier copy of the same book (the wartime "Victory Edition," with recipes tailored for the rationing regime). I was a precocious, smart-ass kid, and even before I knew much about cooking I would have disdained a "dumbed-down" or kid-oriented cookbook. I could read, I could follow instructions, why would I need anything simplified? Looking back now, I can only wonder at my mother's indulgence. I was making my own porridge occasionally at five, and at six my own eggs and toast, and panfrying trout. I made caramel mousse at thirteen, and I vividly remember watching in wonder as the sugar melted in the pan (I still love making caramel). I had a less-relaxed attitude with my own kids, waiting until they were at least adolescents before I would permit anything involving hot fat or melted sugar.

There are lots of cool places in and around central Halifax, that's for sure. On North St, just a couple of blocks from the Commons (a great place for a stroll with a stroller) is my favourite Halifax coffee place, Java Blend. They're a family-owned (since 1937!) shop that roasts their own coffee, and (being close to the universities) they have both organic and fairly-traded coffees. You may not care about that, but it's absolutely outstanding coffee and most coffee drinkers will care about that part. On the way there, you'd also pass by Jane's on the Common, a highly-regarded "upscale casual" place which was one of En Route's 10 best new restaurants in Canada just a couple of years ago. The waterfront has lots of great spots for strolling, as well. Black Bear Ice Cream will probably have closed their waterfront kiosk by now, but their indoor store on Granville St is just off the waterfront (behind the Delta Barrington). Quinpool Rd does indeed have lots of neat stuff, that's where the Holiday Inn is that you stayed in last time. You may want to check out Scanway Catering on Quinpool, for some Scandinavian baking and pastries. The chef there, Gerd Simondsen (sp?) was pastrychef on Culinary Team Canada for while. If you go to the Saturday market at the old Keith's brewery, be sure to buy some bread from Boulangerie la Vendeenne, which is absolutely outstanding. The owner is a French boulanger with the full-bore classical apprenticeship behind him. Another is Didier Julien of Julien's, with two locations in central Halifax. The one at Hydrostone is a bit out of the way for you, but there's also one on (I believe) Dresden Row, just off Spring Garden Rd. Two other places you may want to check out: on Spring Garden itself, Il Mercato. This is run by the same people who own Bish's and da Maurizio, but it's more of a casual trattoria-style place. Just off Spring Garden Rd (I don't remember the street) is Woozles, which does not have food but which is an outstanding independent book store dedicated entirely to children's books.

Oh boy, another time sink! (facepalm)

You must have done something right...

Trivia footnote: Satirical singer Tom Lehrer (Poisoning Pigeons in the Park, Vatican Rag, National Brotherhood Week, etc) claims to have invented the Jell-o shooter while doing his national service during the 1950's. Alcoholic beverages were prohibited on the base, it seems, but Jell-o is not in fact a beverage...

Baking for just me and the kids, Birder, I wouldn't bother skinning the peaches. Baking for company, I would. (shrug) It's a personal call. They're easy enough to skin, using the technique given upthread; I do 20-30 pounds at a time when they're in season. A word to the wise, though, if you're not used to baking cobblers you would be well-advised to stick a skewer into the middle of it to make sure the dough is fully baked. If you're unsure how to go about that, just take a large spoon and overturn part of the dough in the middle. If it's underbaked, just put it back for a while. If the crust on top is getting dark and the middle's not done, just cover it with tinfoil first. A good choice, btw. Cobblers are supposed to look rough and uneven (always a good thing for the non-confident), and they're ever-so-simple to make.

On Nova Scotia's South Shore, the German heritage shows itself in something called "Lunenburg Pudding." This is a fairly standard-issue black-pudding, IIRC, but I don't recall which grain goes into it along with the pork blood and scraps. It's typically served with sauerkraut, another local specialty.