chromedome

When I lived in Newfoundland, no festive occasion (graduation, wedding, baby shower, etc) was complete without the mandatory three bowls of potato salad: one white, one green, one pink. The white was (at least where I lived) yer basic potato/egg/Miracle Whip agglomeration; the green had mushed-up canned peas mixed into it; while the pink had little bits of pickled beet and the attendant juice mixed in. Not being a fan of Miracle Whip, I wasn't that keen on any of them. Other than that, I'm open to pretty much any variation on the overall theme of potato salad. I like them with and without eggs; with mayo or vinaigrette (or German-style with bacon fat and vinegar); with or without mustard; with pretty much any kind of pickle or any kind of fresh herb...let's face it, potatoes whether warm or cold are pretty much a blank slate. They'll work with any combination of other ingredients that taste good in their own right.

Apricot kernel paste is widely used in patisserie, as a lower-priced alternative to almond paste. I don't recall whether roasting is the key to utilizing them safely, and McGee is silent on the matter, but I'll check some other sources and see what I can turn up.

I'm curious about this too, but I have a small problem. I buy my tamarind in the traditional compressed format, which needs to be soaked and strained before use. How would I go about converting?

I read the whole thread from the start. It was rather interesting, in a slow-mo-train-wreck sort of way. I can see why several of those involved are now "legacy participants"! The original question, stripped of its inherent western paternalism, was an interesting one. Is there a trend, among "ethnic cuisines," to a more subtle approach toward spicing? If there is, does that constitute greater skill and "balance," or does it simply signal a transient response to Western influence? Personally, my feeling is that the pendulum is shifting in the other direction; in that classically-trained...even French...chefs are integrating a wider variety of spices, and more adventurous levels of spicing, into their cuisine. Admittedly I don't get out much. But I do read everything I can get my hands on. I will say that the departed Mr. P's rather narrow definition of a "cuisine" gets my back up in no uncertain fashion. It's difficult to grasp any set of criteria that dismisses the heady flavours of, say, Thai or Keralese cooking as the product of unenlightened and unskillful hands.

Great to see you joining the ranks of active posters, VV! You actually played an indirect part in my arrival here at eGullet, a year and a half ago. I was listening to Stuart MacLean's "Vinyl Cafe" on CBC 2, and he was talking about visiting your restaurant with a friend. He made your place sound *so* damned good, I had to Google you up...and found myself reading threads here on this forum. I joined a couple of months later, after exams were over. I haven't been in Vancouver since 1993 (briefly), but next time I'm there I will be first in line outside your door one night. PS: A good friend of ours back home in Halifax was a Punjabi from Amritsar. I used to make him things like carrot halwa when he was homesick...

A slice of bread smothered in fat...a salad smothered in fat...I don't really see much difference. I suspect that, given a choice between salad w/ranch or bread w/dripping, I'd lean toward bread with dripping, but that's just me. I don't have strong feelings about ranch dressing either way. It's rich, bland, a little bit tangy; adds flavour and mouthfeel without being "challenging." The appeal isn't really all that mysterious, it's a mainstream cognate to the sour cream/creme fraiche/labneh so widely used elsewhere.

Seafood and berries are about it for local specialties, but they're very very good inded. More to the point, the Margaree area is breathtakingly beautiful. If you get the opportunity to travel around a little bit, the Alexander Graham Bell museum in Baddeck is a uniquely wonderful place (if not food related). Likewise the Highland Village Museum in Iona, which chronicles the Scots presence in Cape Breton through the years.

Yep, that's got instant classic written all over it.

This is why I don't grow zucchini myself! During the appropriate season, I just walk out to the street close my eyes, hold out my hand, and wait for someone to hand me some... Ok, that was a joke. I didn't plant any this year because of my limited garden space and my limited appreciation for zucchini. I've found that I do love the blossoms, though, and I do like the baby ones (about the size of a large dill pickle) much more than the bigger ones. As for uses, any good mid-East/Med cookbook will include numerous recipes for zucchini, or eggplant recipes in which it may reasonably be substituted. Stuffed with various combinations of fruits/meats/grains/vegetables, poached/simmered/baked/braised, take your pick. Or grilled and coarsely chopped in various salads and mezze/maza/tapas. Next year, in my (hopefully) expanded garden, I'll probably plant a vine or two of zucchini for the sake of the blossoms and babies. I'll also be attempting eggplants for the first time, and will be increasing my tomatoes sharply (only three this year).

I can certainly attest to that. I grew up in Nova Scotia during the days when there were only five vegetables (the 1960's and 1970's), and before the newly-arrived Lebanese began their transformation of the local palate. The closest I came to anything exotic was the newly-introduced "donair" (a local adaptation of shawarma/doner kebab with a sweet-sour milk-based sauce). And then, at the beginning of my twenties (ie, the early 80's) I moved to Vancouver, and the world changed. I lived in the Commercial Drive area, still known as "Little Italy" although its ethnic mix had broadened dramatically. The strip included a variety of Italian restaurants and coffee bars, certainly, but also Salvadorean, Portugese, Mexican, Jamaican, Thai, Chinese, Indian, and many other cuisines. The produce stores carried things I'd never dreamed of. And then, there was Patel's. I don't know if they're still there, at Commercial and, um...6th? 7th? Just before Broadway, anyway. Walking into that place set my blood afire. I never knew it until I set foot in that place, but somehow my mixed-UK ancestry left me genetically susceptible to the smell and flavour of cumin. Cumin toasting on the stovetop (a technique I would not acquire for several more years) is a smell that transports me in a visceral way few other things - fresh-baked bread, maybe - do. I spent endless hours in that store, smelling spices I knew nothing of: cumin, coriander, fenugreek seeds, ajwain, nigella, panch phoron, cardamom (three kinds!), turmeric...it was purely hypnotic. And I never knew there were so many legumes in the world! That was when my interest in food really began to soar: between the availability of so many new things at Patels and the great Commercial Drive greengrocers; and all the exposure to new flavours and smells. For the newly-hatched foodie, there are far worse places than Commercial Drive. Sorry, I'm rambling. My point was that the foods of the Indian subcontinent, the Middle East, and the Maghreb (however you wish to distinguish and differentiate them) are able to exert a powerful influence on outsiders, even outsiders who lack an emotional attachment to the respective regions.

I think it was Day-Lewis' "Tarts with Tops On" that I saw, so I'll have to check next time I'm there. "Thinking man's Nigella" works for me. The library book sale yielded a total of 20 items for $18, most of them not food-related. I did pick up the companion coil-ring recipe booklets for two of the Time-Life "Foods of the World" books I own (Chinese and Provincial French), as well as the "Good Cooking Cook Book" which features recipes by various luminaries including James Beard and Jacques Pepin. So I guess that's three more.

Hmmmm...I saw one of Day-Lewis' books at the liquidation store yesterday. Good, is she? I'd never heard of her, but the book was cheap enough... The local library has its annual book sale on right now. I'm going to go down tomorrow and see how far $20 gets me.

Added two more from the clearance table at my local liquidation bookstore. One was a Barnes & Noble "special" called The Asian Kitchen, edited by Lilian Wu. The recipes look to be a mixed bag as for authenticity, but they're photo-illustrated in the style of the Eyewitness children's books; so I thought it would be a good 'n for the kids to run with. The other was A Table in Tuscany, written and illustrated by Vancouver native Leslie Forbes (now a London-based illustrator). Very nice. Price tag $2 CDN/ea.

I don't think you'll intimidate the free flow of expression...if anyone has a "tough" question for you, you'll still hear it. Of course, you're running the risk of being swamped by questions, but I guess that's still easier than a book tour. At least here you can just log off when it gets to be too much... Welcome aboard. I look forward to reading your book.

Yes, welcome aboard indeed! I've just finished your "Mediterranean Street Food" and enjoyed it tremendously. Of course, as a confirmed offal lover in a household of confirmed offal haters, your new one will be a bittersweet read...

I don't get out a whole lot, so I'll have to scope out my former classmates for some input. There are lots of places around the downtown that are passionate favourites for various people I know...just gonna have to sift through everybody's prejudices. It'll help, of course, if you PM me with some guidance about what you like. Be advised that I haven't lived in Vancouver for the best part of two decades, so references to places there will leave me none the wiser. If you find yourself a few quiet moments in and about all the mayhem, of course, you're more than welcome to look me up and say hello. I haven't met any eGulletters in person yet.

Paul Schufelt, who was the executive chef at Chance, has remained in the newly-revamped restaurant in the same capacity. What I've heard through the grapevine is that Chance did well from the lunchtime office-tower crowd, but wasn't able to attract an after hours clientele. A downtown steakhouse is probably not a bad venture, given the lack of immediate competition pointed out upthread. We'll see how it pans out. I see Chef Schufelt from time to time at Commerce Place, so I'll sound him out about how things are going.

Boning the wee buggers isn't as hard as it sounds, it's just fiddly. I did it for the first time in a "black box" scenario at cooking school, with my clumsy arthritic fingers (and under time pressure at that), so there's hope for anyone! Just make sure your boning knife is really, *really* sharp at the tip.

I regularly do mini-strudels in puff pastry at my work. I use 15"X20" sheets, and roll them out to roughly a 24" square. This makes for numerous benefits: it improves the pastry:filling ratio; gives me 50% more product from a given sheet (nine squares instead of six); keeps the puff from ballooning too much; and makes it easier to cut without shattering into a gazillion flakes. I used to egg wash my seams, but now I just leave them at the bottom and don't worry about it. Of course I bake from frozen, which makes a difference as well. Another thing you may want to do is check with your supplier. The brand of puff I buy (it comes from the Vancouver area) is available in both a high-rise and a low-rise version; buying the latter would certainly help you in this particular application.

Unibroue makes several outstanding brews, ranging from the conventional 5% up to an imposing 10.5%. Lately I've been drinking that one a lot, a BIG-ass Abbey-style ale called "Terrible." It's very good; dark and rich with toasty notes, but still with that distinctively Belgian-styled fruitiness. One of the few beers which may be cellared for several years.

One year I followed that train of thought, and as a result our Canada Day meal was moose curry served over couscous. It was pretty good. This year I wimped out, and just did steaks and baked potatoes to go with the aforementioned leek-and-brie tart and green salad. For dessert, I made the wife an ice-cream birthday cake. On the bottom, rum syrup-soaked chocolate genoise, surrounded by chocolate ice cream. Middle layer; a "bullseye" of vanilla ice cream, surrounded by last summer's frozen cherries & berries compote, surrounded by a ring of vanilla ice cream. Top layer, chocolate genoise surrounded and covered by chocolate ice cream. Garnished with whipped cream and fresh cherries. Yum.

I never, never manage to keep my tupperware organized for more than a couple of days. I am so jealous! ← Neither do I...but that's because the kids are in charge of washing and putting away the dishes! Least favourite kid habit..."I dunno where this goes. D'you know? Me neither. I'll just pick a spot..." Two weeks later: Dad: "Where is 'X'...did anybody see it?" Kids: (in stereo) "I don't know...wasn't me who put it away!" Hence I find parts of the ice-cream maker in the drawer with the utensils, and part of my meat grinder lurking in the back of the silverware drawer underneath a mound of chopsticks. Oy.

My wife is 5' 7", with a 34" inseam. Would it surprise you to know I'm a leg man? Just a thought...one of my taller classmates used to sometimes place a towel and cutting board atop an overturned bus pan, when doing prep for an extended period. He said it was no good for serious cutting, but excellent for light work...like prepping fruit for tarts, maybe. It's only a few inches, but it makes a difference. I understand completely about handling the damn fruit. I have arthritic hands, and while I'm absolutely fine with knife-handling, those slippery pieces of fresh-cut fruit give me fits. Without fail, when I'm working the dessert bench at my night job, there's always one dessert that calls for several slices of artfully-arranged fruit. Several times a night, I'll drop one onto an already-sauced plate and splash fruit coulis everywhere. Drives me crazy. Shame my boss isn't into nice, dry, textured tuiles as a garnish...

Well, I own a copy of Apicius...he predates Careme by, what? 1400 years or so? Haven't cooked anything from that yet, though. And for those who are interested, the Forme of Cury is available for download from Project Gutenberg, as are several other older cookbooks. Haven't found time to go back and examine them thoroughly as yet, but I plan to download them all. Not quite on topic, but offered FWIW.

Gary Danko gave me a minor epiphany, one night during cooking school. I was sitting up late, watching the Flash movie on his site about making the seared foie gras dish, and I began following a train of connections in my mind: Danko says that the CIA made him a cook, but it was Madeline Kamman who taught him to be a chef. Kamman learned to cook from a friend of her aunt's, a longtime professional. Her aunt's friend, in turn, had learned her trade in a private chateau in the late years of the 19th century. The chef she studied under had been Careme's last apprentice. So, the trail went from Careme to his last apprentice, to Kamman's aunt's friend, to Kamman, to Danko, to me. Perhaps it was the lateness of the hour (and the corresponding lack of sleep), but it gave me a feeling of being connected to a great tradition; a feeling I have not been without since that night.