chromedome

I attempted my first frog leg at the age of eight months. Unfortunately, it was still attached to the panic-stricken frog, at the time. My father still regrets not having a camera handy. His usual comment is that he didn't know I could move that fast...(it was Mom who rescued the agitated frog). I must have planted a seed, though. A few years later, on an unsuccessful fishing expedition, my father decided to redirect his attention to the plenitude of frogs in his general vicinity. He brought home a few dozen legs and attempted to "sell" them to my mother, as he prepped them for the pan. He dusted them lightly with flour and dropped the first handful into the hot skillet...and most of them jumped right back out again. They contracted in the hot fat, or something; maybe there's a tendon in the back of the knee. I dunno. Bottom line, Mom wouldn't eat one then or ever!

My usable counter space in the current rental consists of a pull-out cutting board. That's it. So, yeah...stovetop, corner of the kitchen table, top of the microwave...it's all prep space. I don't burn/melt anything, although my kids occasionally do.

{relief}

I was poking through a stack of 1970's-era cake decorating booklets at my wife's work when I came across the 1967 Pillsbury bake-off winners book. It's a paper thingie about the size of an Avon catalogue, and for $1 I just had to have it. The back cover alone cracks me up! "Much of a marriage happens in the kitchen. That little restaurant...His laughable attempts to duplicate a secret sauce...remeniscences of first meetings. There's romance in a kitchen and it's a wise gal who pursues it through the countless 'discoveries'...new and remembered in America's foremost culinary collection...The Pillsbury Family Cookbook." The contents include some of the most disgustingly retro-vile dishes you can imagine. Bachelor's Bake, anyone? Mashed potato flakes, spam, processed cheese, barbecue sauce and chicken gravy...all your favourites in one dish! And how about Party Pink Pie for dessert? Pillsbury icing, red food colouring, sour cream, and a can of cherry pie filling all lovingly poured into a pre-baked Pillsbury pie shell and refrigerated until the Tupperware party. I mean, until set. I could go on, but it's almost lunch time and I'm putting myself off...

It's an unhappy scenario for management. One reason is that, yes, there's always some a$$hat out there who will try to sue over anything (thankfully, less so here in Canada). The other reason, though, is that if employees are permitted to take home leftovers THERE WILL ALWAYS BE LEFTOVERS. Since leftovers=increased food cost=reduced profit, this is reason enough all on its own. I'm not saying that you can't do it - I've worked in smaller, independent places where it was done openly with the boss's blessing - but I don't think it's a good practice once you get past the point where the owner/chef/manager is always there in person. Ensuring that production is just high enough is a difficult balancing act at the best of times. At my workplace, under the old manager, we kept our bakery displays full all day, and gave away hundreds of dollars worth of product every week to local charities. When the new manager came in, one of his first acts was to mine the POS system to find out what our sales were, hour by hour, for those products. It turned out that we sold only a handful of bakery items after 2PM every day, so now we cheerfully sell out around 2PM and move more durable products into the display.

If memory serves, it is the bacterial fermentation (not the yeast fermentation) that develops the characteristic deep and sour flavours of a good sourdough bread. Because the bacteria do not reproduce as quickly as the yeast, the cold-and-slow method allows time for this to take place.

It sounds to me like a variant on a dish my wife's German/Mennonite grandmother makes. It's called kartoffeln-mit-kloessen (sp?) which means, logically enough, potatoes with noodles. The noodles are made out of the same dough as her verenike wrappers, cut by hand into long strips like fat fettucine (smaller than pappardele, though). My wife's grandmother usually serves hers with greens from the garden, bacon bits, onions, and a little splash each of the bacon fat and some vinegar. If you remember a thickened sauce on the ones you had, it may be that this specific Amish woman thickens the "pot liquor" she cooks her veg in, and serves that with the dish. I haven't seen it done quite that way, but it is certainly the sort of notion that would appeal to farmwife frugality.

The contrast in textures is the charm of a cod tongue. They consist of two small nuggets of muscle inside a sac of gelatinous tissue; when quick-fried in hot fat (traditionally from rendered salt pork) you get the crisp-fried outside, gelatinous middle, and firm muscle all in one bite. For those who detest gelatinous textures it can be off-putting, but taken altogether it has the same appeal as a crisp-fried oyster.

Here in Edmonton, the only widely available "upscale" chocolates are Callebaut and Lindt. The Callebaut is typically the bittersweet couverture (811? 835? something like that), while the Lindt is the usual range of 66%/75%/85% bars. I use the Callebaut for ganache and truffle centres, because I mostly do those for Christmas and Callebaut has good brand recognition up here. Personally, I find the Callebaut bittersweet to be too sweet for eating out-of-hand. My wife and I lean to the 85% Lindt for a personal indulgence, while our daughter tops out at 70%. We're also partial to the Rogers Fire Bar, a dark bar (I'm guessing 60-65%) with cinnamon and both ancho and chipotle peppers. I'd like it to be a bit darker and less sweet, but it's a good bar. I understand why the Lindt and comparable chocolates are off-putting for some people, with the fruitiness and acidity front and centre. Certainly, for those of us who grew up on commercial "chocolate" bars, it is a strange and unaccustomed flavour. Bear in mind that cocoa is naturally acidic (hence the alkalization performed on "Dutch process" cocoa); how the beans are processed probably determines whether the acidity is brought to the fore or toned down. I suspect it's more complex than simply the degree of roasting, though I am certainly open to correction from someone more knowledgeable. I lean to intense flavours, rather than subtle ones. I love cumin, chilies, limes, cilantro, and garlic; while things like sushi, zucchini, and cauliflower tend to leave me cold. In chocolate, as in coffee, I detest sweetness and look for an immediate in-your-face impact that's almost too much for my palate to process right away. I compare the initial impact of an 85% bar to that of a good espresso, which also has an intensity and acidity which is disconcerting to the uninitiated. Having said that, the best chocolate is always the one you most enjoy eating... I've just recently discovered that there is a chocolatier in the downtown which sells various privately sourced single-estate chocolates. I'm going to try to get there next time I have a day available for errands. Can't pass up an educational opportunity like that!

It is necessary to use a pressure canner to safely preserve items like meats, seafood, and non-acidic vegetables (squash, beans, peas, etc). For a good overview of how to can the most common household foods safely, you may want to consult the USDA canning guide. It's also available in downloadable .pdf format from many sites. There are also numerous books available from sources like the Rodale Press (publishers of Organic Gardening magazine) which offer more detail and a wider range of foods. I don't know what prices run for those down in the States, but if you have the bug in a serious way it's not excessive. It can also save you a ton of freezer space.

When I was a kid in Nova Scotia, the local brand was Scottie's. They came in the old-school little paper-foil bags, back then. They were bought up by Hostess back in the early 70's, and they never seemed the same to me after that. Now, of course, I'm living in Edmonton and I can get Old Dutch everywhere. I like that new salt & pepper flavour. It's pretty good.

And when you're in a hurry, you can just slap it into several dozen pans with a big ol' paint brush. As long as you're diligent in the corners, you can do the pans a whole lot faster that way (not as quick as spraying, but quick nonetheless).

Y'know what? Icing is just the airseal on a cake, to protect it until it's eaten. It's packaging. That's it, that's all. I've had pretty much every kind of icing you can imagine, and I don't like any of them. Not just commercial (ugh!) icings and fondants, either. One advantage of going to cooking school is that you get to taste them all when made from scratch. I still don't like 'em. As and when I put something on a cake for home consumption, it's basically only ever going to be ganache (for special occasions) or whipped cream. Whipped cream, after overnight refrigeration, sets up into a nicely thick coating which keeps the cake moist. And how can you not like whipped cream on cake? Having said that, though, I'm a professional and I sell product. Icing is the packaging for the specific product called "cake," and packaging - on any product - is targeted at the desired audience. Give the people what they want (or at least what they think they want) and you can't go very far wrong.

I love that book! I had my eye open for years, looking for a copy, and just two summers ago my next-door neighbour gave me one out of the blue. "Some old Mennonite cookbook somebody gave me," was how she described it. She was rather taken aback at my delight. I get a kick out of the unapologetic vindictiveness of her rabbit recipes...

I had the same problem with my bread dough climbing up the hook and wrapping around the head of the unit. Some wonderful person here at eG gave me the crucial piece of information...don't lock the head down (assuming you have the tilting 4.6 qt model). The mixer bobs up and down, and occasionally clunks alarmingly, but the dough doesn't climb. Once in a while I will press it back down into the dough, and that seems to be about right. I always finish my doughs with hand kneading or folding (depending whether stiff/slack dough).

In Canada, we have a bit different scenario. Cooking is a trade like any other (plumber, electrician, pipefitter) and is administered by the government. Culinary grad and blue-collar grunt alike complete an apprenticeship, take exams, and complete "x" amount of on-the-job training. At the end of the day, you receive a nationally recognized journeyman certificate (aka "Red Seal") which, as with any other trade, declares that the newly-minted journeyman is competent to work unsupervised in the field. We have a Master designation in our trade, just as other trades do. In our country, it's the "CCC" (Certified Chef de Cuisine) certification. Like the CMC in the States, it is an absolute ball-busting marathon, although ours is only three days rather than ten. Unlike the CMC, though, there is no political controversy about the CCC. The standards have been set by a government body in conjunction with employers, schools, and industry representatives. No one school has more influence than the others in the process, therefore there are no concerns about undue uniformity in the underlying training. Having said that, there is a similar ambivalence here about the CCC, in that it really only advances one's career on the corporate side of things (hotels, major foodservice companies, etc). For those wanting only to run a restaurant, it's hard to justify the price tag.

My mom always used bacon fat for half the fat in her gingerbread. It certainly adds something. Pick a gingerbread recipe that's heavy on the ginger and molasses, though, or the bacon flavour will come through.

Hmm. Well, I absolutely love lamb. I've put it on my menu repeatedly, at a cost roughly double that of beef or pork. Sales consistently run about 20% of what they do when I run beef, pork, chicken, etc (ie, the usual suspects). Please understand that's not 20% lower...that's 20%. Twenty orders instead of a hundred. I can't cover my costs on that basis, so now I only bring in lamb for catering functions and cooking classes.

I think everybody needs to have one of the old-school stalwarts close to hand. You know what I mean...Betty Crocker, Fanny Farmer, Joy of Cooking...one of the ones that tries to cover everything. Although I use J o' C quite a bit, the one I go back to over and over again is my grandmother's wartime edition of The American Woman's Cookbook. It's not quite so old that the recipes begin with "eviscerate your chicken" (never mind "catch your chicken"), but it's pretty vintage just the same. It covers just about everything from scrambled eggs to petits fours, and all of the recipes that I've used have been pretty functional. One thing that's kind of interesting is the complete rundown on entertaining that's offered in the opening chapters. Lots of good advice on how to work the timing, as well as a complete guide to the various pieces of cutlery and servicewares (if you've ever wondered which fork goes where...). The book's popularity lasted at least into the 1950's, as this is when my mom's copy was published. I like my grandmother's copy better, since it has the section of wartime how-to-do-without recipes. You should be able to find used copies round and about. It doesn't have the chatty character of Joy of Cooking, but it's a solid piece of work.

The flavour is milder (no more bitter than many other salad greens) when picked either very young and tender (about thumb-sized), or in fall, after they're pretty much spent for the year. At any time of the year, avoid clumps with flowers coming up; those will always be bitter. I use them occasionally in salads, but as the only enthusiastic eater of bitter salad greens in my house they're a solitary pleasure. More usually I blanch them and use them in stirfries, or as part of a "boiled dinner" with a ham. I've also used them with lemon zest and pine nuts to stuff a piece of pork loin, which was quite good. You may also want to incorporate them into a spanakopita or something of that sort, which is impeccably authentic if you care about such things. Wolfert goes on at length about these and wild greens in general in one or another of her books (probably more than one), so if you're a fan you may want to hit that section of your bookshelf.

The NSLC in Nova Scotia also has a "shop the world" option. As long as you are willing to commit to a case (or can organize enough friends to do so) they'll bring in just about anything, from anywhere.

I've had cans of Eagle Brand that were thoroughly caramelized, here in Canada. It may have been an assembly-line error, but the cans were left in my bakery by a previous manager and had logged a lot of time on a high shelf near the ovens, so I'm leaning to the slow-caramelization theory.

Plant gender is not folklore, at least not entirely. It's not simple, either, or universal; but it is well-recognized and documented. A few links for your perusal: Plant Facts Gender comparison in cannabis sativa (Gender is all-important in pot growing, apparently...) And for further study, if you're truly obsessive... Gender and Sexual Dimorphism in Flowering Plants

I read up on saffron rather extensively a year or so ago, after being gifted with a quantity of it from two different individuals (on whose heads be blessings...). I can recall the Pennsylvanian saffron being mentioned in a few of those books, and I suspect that there are more growers than just the one. If memory serves, one book referenced a few Amish growers. I have found the Iranian saffron, in general, to be more pungent and quicker to infuse than the Spanish. I tend to use the Spanish for long-cooking items, and the Iranian for hot beverages and quick-cooking dishes. I know many people who are saffron enthusiasts, some few who really don't get excited about it either way, and a number who just don't like it at all. I think it may be one of those genetic-trigger things, like cilantro or truffles. If they don't do it for you, they just don't <shrug>. More for the rest of us.

If it is indeed a problem of your oven cycling incorrectly, you may want to invest in some thermal mass...unglazed tiles, brick, or even two or three cheap pizza "stones" stacked up together will retain enough heat to keep your oven temperature stable. Load up the bottom rack, allow your oven lots of time to heat up (like, say, an hour ahead of time...), and have at it. If that's what your problem is, this should fix it.