balmagowry

I admire Wolfert, but I'm always a little suspicious, on general principle, of cautions against bacteria. I mean, why "today"? Thank you - yes, that does make sense. BTW, the other possible variable about which I really don't know enough to judge is the quality of chickens when Davis was writing - how they were typically fed and cared for, etc. If we had known enough to worry about it, would the danger of salmonella have been present then? or is that a more recent phenomenon, perhaps related to GM feeds and other such marvelous "improvements" in agribusiness?

Killjoy! You're right, though - what an AWFUL site. Didn't explore in detail, but noticed that they have both Loup de Mer and Mariniere de Loup, so who the hell knows. I got Monts d'Or right, and the Madnesses of Injuries MUST somehow be the Folies de Dames Tartines thing, though admittedly it's a hell of a stretch. OK - smackdown it is!

I think we should have some kind of a little competition to see who can come up with the best versions of "Madnesses of Injury." Categories: - Most Accurate - Most Creative Under Accurate, my first guess is that it's a dessert. Madnesses comes from some form of folies; Injury from some kind of confusion between tarte and "torte." I'm still workiing on it.

Thank you for postiing the Chez Pierre link! "Casserole - middle class way" is my favorite. Without looking at the French version, I can't tell what some of these started as. Marine of the wolf - definitely marinated sea bass. You think? I got sea-bass, but not marinated. I figure the original is just loup de mer. I don't know, but I'm determined to figure it out, WITHOUT going to the original site. This reminds me deliciously of English as She is Spoke. "Nothing some money, nothing of swiss."

Actually, Lucy's response was much the one I was looking to elicit: more like comparing one's own child to the children of other people. Not to suggest that Lucy is biased. Rather that she displays a touch of understandable pride in her "child," who is very charming and beautifully-brought-up, if a little shy; whereas some of the other "children" are a little more grossiers by comparison. It is not an exact analogy, of course, since she herself is no more responsible for the special qualities of chez Pierre than for those of any other place in Lyon; still, the fact that as a resident of Lyon she chooses chez Pierre over the other places mentioned - and gives intelligible reasons for it - is not to be taken lightly. I raised the question for two reasons: because as a tourist I would place a lot of value on the suggestions of a local, especially if they were a little off the beaten track; and because in this instance it was already clear from Lucy's earlier description that chez Pierre was something rather special, not what one pictures when a bouchon is mentioned. I was interested in the comparison for myself - but I also figured that Andrew probably hadn't seen the spread on chez Pierre in Lucy's blog and that perhaps it would be of use to him. That said, I should post a link to the appropriate post, but I haven't had coffee yet and am not quite functioning at the required level of efficiency. Will come back and do so later unless someone else beats me to it.

Er - Maggie, could you explain the function, in this context, of a team?

All ye culinary historians; All ye historical cooks; All ye curious as to either or both, particularly as regards the early 19th century; All ye fans of Patrick O'Brian's Aubrey/Maturin Novels; All ye fans of "Master & Commander [and/or] The Far Side of the World" in any medium; - or anyone else for that matter - On Thursday May 20th at 7:00 PM I shall be in Baltimore to give an illustrated lecture based on my book Lobscouse & Spotted Dog, which as some of you may know it's the official gastronomic companion to the Aubrey/Maturin novels. It's more a wild roller-coaster ride than an official sort of lecture, being a somewhat irreverent description of our experiences in researching and testing not only the eponymous recipes but a good many others from the sublime to the ridiculous, not excluding the eccentric and the occasionally disastrous. If you've ever wondered how to raise a coffin, how to simulate a cow, how not to handle suet, and how to build the Galapagos out of meringue and custard (at 2"=1 nautical mile), this is your chance: all these and more I will reveal, with copious pictures and anecdotes. And I think there's some kind of informal Q&A/book-signing thingy afterward. The lecture is part of the USS Constellation's 150th Anniversary Season lecture series, and is being given at the Maryland Historical Society. Information is available via the Constellation's Web Site. Oh, and Ken Ringle just sent me this: (Don't be fooled: the day of the week is correct, the date is not.) I always have fun doing these things; meeting any local eGulls will be an additional kick to make my cup runneth over. Oh - and if you've somehow escaped encountering me in these parts before, here's my bio thread, here's my foodblog, and here's some info about an article I published recently. Don't bother telling me to get a life....

Or drink Jonestown Kool-Aid!

Isn't that kind of a classic Native American notion? Inuit too, if memory serves; a ritual that is part of the seal and whale hunts. Either you and I have read the same thing or - I seem to remember running across this sort of thing more than once. Seems only reasonable to thank the animal that's going to feed and clothe and warm your tribe through the coming season. I think in some situations you also apologize to your brother the deer/bear/seal etc. for having to kill him in order to accomplish those necessary things. Very civilized - much more so than neat little plastic packages, really. It is all too easy, in our convenience-crazed world, to confuse industrialization with civilization, without thinking about their etymology and real meaning.

I admire Wolfert, but I'm always a little suspicious, on general principle, of cautions against bacteria. I mean, why "today"? Did Adelle Davis, or the people cooking according to her recipes, experience ill effects? There has been plenty of discussion elsewhere on this board about how we've decreased our own immunity by overprotecting ourselves with things like over-prescribed antibiotics and anti-bacterial soap and generally exaggerated notions of hygiene. So when I hear something like this, I can't help wondering: was it OK 30 years ago? and have we weakened ourselves so drastically and so quickly that it's that much more dangerous now? I remember going to visit boarding schools in the early 70s; at one of them which was particularly earthy-crunchy, we were proudly shown through the school's much-vaunted Macrobiotic Kitchen, which was largely student-run. I've rarely seen anything more disgustingly filthy in my life. OTOH... while I couldn't stand to have or to work in a kitchen like that, didn't even want to set foot in that one - I have to admit that the students seemed perfectly healthy, and so far as I know there were never any problems there with food poisoning or any of the other ills you'd expect the flesh to be heir to. I did not go to that school, for several reasons. And while I've never regretted the choice I did make (on the contrary, I rank it as one of the best of my life to date), I wonder whether the standard institutional fare we got there served us any better from a nutritional standpoint than those other kids got from their grubby grains? Seems to me we're all the better for some nice healthy dirt and some good clean germs. Course, what do I know? Not a whole lot about bacteria and such, that's for sure. Maybe some of Adelle Davis's stuff really is potentially lethal and it's just the luck of the draw that in its heyday it never set off a poisoning scandal and a class action for liability. But I continue to wonder.

I have a portion of the counter that is butcher block, in the city and in Westchester. Highly recommend at least a portion of the counter be in wood. Its pretty easy to maintain, and oh, so easy to work on. Yes, I love my little bit of bb counter - only wish there were more of it. Only problem with it is that it's old and was obviously not properly maintained by the previous administration; the surface isn't quite even. One board needs to be planed, another filled, or something. Add it to the long list of things I hope to Get Around To one of these days. Hathor, your dinner last night is just beautiful (I too am tempted to play copy-cat with the pork chops), and I'm wildly jealous of your foray to the Dynasty market. I think I'll have to make an Expotition into town. (Hey, someone suggested a Dynasty-based pot luck up-thread. I wonder if that could be done in conjunction with the Recipe Smackdown thing Maggie posted last night? Any interest, New Yorkers?) I'm curious about your cioppino, which also looked lovely. We used to make a very different, more peasanty version, with a much more stewish feel to it. I think the recipe came from Sunset some 30 years ago, but I might just be misremembering, since I haven't actually used a recipe in nearly that long. I've always been amused by the derivation - or apparent lack thereof. As in the 19th century everyone disclaimed VD (the English called it the French Pox, the French called it the Spanish Pox, the Spanish called it the English Pox...), so it appears that despite the Italian name the Italians describe cioppino as Portuguese Bouillabaisse, the Portuguese describe it as San Francisco Bouillabaisse... and so on. I haven't lived in San Francisco since I was about 10, but I gather that it is something of a signature dish there now, probably in a form similar to the one we used to make (which is probably why I think it came from Sunset). Yours is a lot more elegant in look and composition. Whence cometh it?

Lucy, how do the bouchons Andrew mentions compare to M. Pierre's place?

On the contrary, I find the English very poetic. "Madnesses of Injury," "Mounts of Gold," "Marine of the Wolf"? Wonderfully evocative. Of what, I don't know, but who cares?

No way. 55.32365362 rotation is the only way to go on the presentation side. I finish by dividing the circumference of the steak by pi squared to determine the non-presentation side grill marks. That's all very well as long as you're living in three dimensions. Add another dimension or two, and poof! there is no non-presentation side. Then what do you do?

Has to be pretty fully frozen for the inside to stay cool while the outside sears. How fully? YMMV, depending on the thickness of the steak and the power of the grill. If you're looking to avoid long-term freezing, you'll probably have to experiment to determine how frozen is frozen enough per inch of thickness for your particular setup. At any rate, I don't imagine 1/2 hour will be quite enough. Myself, I stock up and keep stuff in the freezer - needs must when the devil drives and the drive is an hour round-trip to the nearest store. The great thing about it is, you get home from a long day on the water, fire up the grill, haul a steak out of the freezer and put it straight on, and still eat dinner at a reasonable hour with next to no prep time. Not a bad way to spend the summer. Scary? Only the first time. It works.

I had exactly the same problem with my last gas grill, until someone taught me a neat trick that I sometimes still use even with the new one: Freeze the steak. Get grill going full blast; put the steak on it still frozen. I haven't dared try this with anything more than 2" thick, max - but up to that thickness I have found it works perfectly. By the time the inside thaws enough to cook at all, you get a lovely crust on the outside. Can't tell you exact timings with lid up/down because I do it so much by ear and by guts and by prevailing wind, but the same sensory criteria apply as with any other method.

Latest update from the yogurt front. Yesterday I finally got around to making a batch with Brown Cow starter. Not possessing Jensen's selfless strength of character, I ate the cream top - but used the right amount of the rest of the yogurt to culture my 1/2 gallon of whole milk. 7 hours and it set like a dream. Put it away to chill. Had a couple of spoonfuls late last night and it sure tasted good. This morning I served myself a nice bowlful, and as I was doing so I noticed how thickly it flowed. Taking each spoonful, I found, was a little like doing the same from a bowl of very hot gratinee with very thoroughly-melted cheese - I won't say the yogurt actually made strings, but that's how thickly viscous it was, that the yogurt in the spoon was reluctant to leave the parent mass in the bowl, which in turn was equally reluctant to release its offspring. Thick! Rich! Almost TOO thick. I'm not entirely sure I like this new texture. It seems to have a mind of its own. It's a little like the texture you get from straining out all the whey, though not QUITE as thick - more like Greek yogurt, I guess. If that's so, then maybe Greek isn't quite what I wanted... and I don't understand how I got it. EDIT to add: the texture is almost... gummy. Can't think how else to describe it. Weird. Except for the use of a different starter - which as I think I noted upthread surprised me by containing some pectin - I haven't changed my technique at all; though I did strain the milk to prevent the accumulation of those bits of skin. It can't be that little bit of pectin making all this difference... can it? The texture is quite unlike that of Brown Cow, which actually rather reminds me of the Colombo of 20 years ago. (Yes, I know they're still around, but it's that long since I've eaten one so I don't know how much it may have changed.) I am very, very puzzled. Next strategy currently under consideration (and this may change by the time I'm ready to implement it): For next batch, use this yogurt as starter for one quart, and Dannnon to start another; that should make for an interesting comparison. It still isn't a very scientific one, because obviously there are a lot of variables I don't know about and am not taking into account. But it'll still be interesting. I guess. Of all the batches I've made, the first Erivan one was the transcendent, ambrosial one - but I haven't been able to duplicate that, and I think that on principle I'm more comfortable having all four of the standard types of bacteria working. So many options, so little certainty....

Latest update from the yogurt front. Yesterday I finally got around to making a batch with Brown Cow starter. Not possessing Jensen's selfless strength of character, I ate the cream top - but used the right amount of the rest of the yogurt to culture my 1/2 gallon of whole milk. 7 hours and it set like a dream. Put it away to chill. Had a couple of spoonfuls late last night and it sure tasted good. This morning I served myself a nice bowlful, and as I was doing so I noticed how thickly it flowed. Taking each spoonful, I found, was a little like doing the same from a bowl of very hot gratinee with very thoroughly-melted cheese - I won't say the yogurt actually made strings, but that's how thickly viscous it was, that the yogurt in the spoon was reluctant to leave the parent mass in the bowl, which in turn was equally reluctant to release its offspring. Thick! Rich! Almost TOO thick. I'm not entirely sure I like this new texture. It seems to have a mind of its own. Except for the use of a different starter (which as I think I noted upthread surprised me by containing some pectin), I haven't changed my techniq

Wha--? OK, now I'm confused. I just looked at that recipe, and it is Ajo Blanco! "White Gazpacho"? Really? I've never heard it called that - everywhere I had it in Spain (and I was addicted to it from Day 1, so I ate it every chance I got) it was always "Ajo Blanco." The things you learn. May I suggest, though, adding "ajo blanco" to the keywords? Earlier today I was very disappointed on searching RecipeGullet for the latter and finding no match!

Good for you. City Harvest has an analogue out here, Island Harvest; and when we started testing recipes for L&SD I got in touch with them in hopes that our anticipated oversupply of, er, admittedly slightly odd but certainly highly nutritious foods might serve a useful purpose. Alas, they can only take donations from certain types of certified organizations - understandable, I guess, from a liability standpoint. Still, a pity. In the event, actually, not all that much went to waste - mostly just the really disgusting stuff that we'd have been ashamed to offer anyone....

Ajo Blanco.

Russian sorrel soup. Haven't made it from scratch in forever or so, because some of the bottled ones (found in the kosher section in most supermarkets, though they may sport fewer consonants) are surprisingly good - if you doctor 'em up right and chill 'em enough. Big bowl. Throw in scallions, cut up pretty fine (say 1/4"). Put in some salt. Mush around with spoon against sides of bowl so the salt bruises the scallions. Then stir in a good-sized dollop of sour cream. Then start stirring in the soup - only a little at first, and adding very gradually so that the sour cream blends in smoothly. When it's all put together together, you put in a few Kirby cucumbers, peeled and diced. Chill the hell out of it, maybe even put some chunks of ice in the bowl a little before serving. Have a little extra sour cream on hand for those who want it. In the summer, I could live on this stuff. BTW, sour cream & radishes starts the same way. Bowl, scallions, salt, smush, bruise. Then it's sour cream, thin slices of small red radishes, peeled/diced Kirby cucumbers. Mix well, chill thoroughly. If worried about fat, you can substitute yogurt for maybe 1/2 the sour cream. Doesn't sound like much, but it's heaven in a bowl.

Aaaaaahhhh... it's time for schtchav. Or Sour Cream and Radishes. Finally!

Wish I could.

True enough - wouldn't it be nice if they all did it.