balmagowry

Sorry to respond to this so late - been out of touch for a while - but if you're still paying attention, I'd love to know your sources for "word has it." Carême was no St. Francis of Assisi, but he was very considerate, and I know of no evidence to suggest he was unkind. He didn't suffer mediocrity gladly, but who does? And he certainly had plenty of very good friends, people who cared about him for more than his work. If "word" is that fraud Ian Kelly.... Oh, the hell with it.

I can't speak to it in general, but it reminds me of a scary story I heard recently: was having lunch with my editor recently in her neighborhood, i.e. the general environs of the newly trendy Meat Packing District in New York; she spoke feelingly about the fact that a local bakery (sorry, name escapes me) had just shut down, after 70+ years in business, because the Atkins craze had killed their bread trade. Something is very wrong with this picture! EDIT to add: all is not lost, though, as witness the new and flourishing business of our own bripastryguy, Sweet Karma in East Meadow, LI. (Can't remember where this thread is - in the Pastry forum, probably?)

My first port of call for such things is always eBay. Not many things you can't find there! and for "vintage" kitchenware it is consistently the best source I've seen. Every time someone on eG posts about the joys of his 50-year-old can't-get-it-any-more {insert name of gadget here}, off I goes to eBay and finds it for a song. (Last coup was, I think, Smithy's wonderful Wearever lemon-squeezer, a joy indeed.) As for new models vs. old, I'm generally of andiesenji's way of thinking. In the case of the KA mixer she, of course, has the anecdotal/empirical evidence to prove it. I can only say in general that those older and more solidly-built appliances seem to win the contest hands-down every time. My 1919 Singer sewing machine is a case in point, as is my 50s Sunbeam Mixmaster. (I have two of each, having bought the spare ones at garage sales for parts... cheep cheep... but haven't needed them!) Then there's Magnalite, which went distinctly flimsier when it stopped being made by Warner. [trembly old crone voice] Ahhhhh, young 'uns, they just don't make 'em like they used to! [/trembly old crone voice]

Are you suggesting a "parallel" of any sort between the two civilizations here?? More specifically, is Nero fiddling while Michael Moore burns?? Or while Barbara Haber burns. I'm torn. On the one hand, she has a valid point. On the other... did she give up her sense of humor when she retired last year? She used to have a pretty good eye for the ludicrous, and this sure as hell does have its silly side.

While they're at it, they should pick up old Grimod de la Reynière and his coffin centerpiece. In fact... the coffin should be the time machine. If this were about time traveling to any gastronomic event in history, instead of studying with a chef ditto, then dammit that's the event I'd want to attend: one of Grimod's all-singing-all-dancing funerals for himself!

Outed on eGullet! The shame of it all!! Now the world, or at least those who read eG, now knows how vile and horrendously wicked I am! don't try throwing me, balmagowry, unless you have yourself a very well-constructed truss .... Hoo boy - that really limits the scope of my trust, then. BTW, though I need hardly say I'd love to hang with Carême et al, and would certainly be tempted by Massialot and even Ali-Bab; still if I had to choose one historical cook to study under I think it'd have to be Maestro Martino. Or maybe even Platina, even though he copied so much of his stuff from Martino - I kind of like his cheekiness. Main thing is, I'd like to understand for myself how those guys interpreted the rediscovered wisdom of the ancients and incorporated it into their concepts of nutrition and health, how they got from point A to point B and somehow made it all seem to spell MOTHER. It'd even be worth brushing up one's Italian and Latin....

Hey, I didn't say nothin' 'bout no wings! But despite all your protestations of innocence you are a wicked, wicked woman, and I don't trust you any farther than I can throw you. As for Ian Kelly, he is a liar and a charlatan and a perverter of history, and I got the evidence to prove it. Which will only sell even more books, I'm afraid, but there's nothing to be done about that. The truth, however, will out, eventually, despite his impressive PR machine.

The fish thing is apocryphal? Says who? It wasn't by any means the only reason for the suicide, but Mme. de Sévigné is pretty definite about it having happened, and I've never seen a convincing argument to the contrary. If you have, I'd love to know where. The are numerous food history type references (not at hand ) that indicate the the sequence of no fish and suicide didn't coincide. What they suggest is that this was one of may fuck ups where he was trying to prove himself a better kichen manager then Varenne. OK, so we're not really at odds here - at least, not as to the cause of the suicide. Vatel was having an incredibly lousy run of luck professionally, and had blown a huge amount of money on the unfortunate fireworks display. Nothing he touched was going right, at least at Chantilly. I've often wondered whether the bad luck was cause or effect - if he was sufficiently depressed to begin with, he may well have been off his game in general and blowing things right and left out of some kind of pop-psych self-sabotaging impulse. If the non-arrival of the fish didn't coincide as to timing, damn, I guess we both need to haul out our historical sources, because I certainly thought it did fit, and of course Mme. de S's eyewitness account lends credence to that notion, though her propensity for dramatic license may cancel that out, I guess. Anyway, it ain't really my period, so please I am seriously interested in knowing what evidence there is on this subject one way or t'other. Depends on how you're defining the word and what it's based on. These days it's generally short for chef de cuisine, and in that sense I maintain that that modern classification doesn't fit Vatel because so much of his job had nothing to do with the kitchen. Carême, OTOH, was absolutely a chef de cuisine, in fact in many ways that phenomenon, and the hierarchy that supports it, originated with him. In Vatel's day the division of labor was somewhat different. (You wouldn't have used the term "chef" at all back then, but if you had it'd have been short for chef de bouche, which even though it transliterates to a focus on the mouth is actually a much broader classification. And even that wouldn't necessarily apply to Vatel.) It is my impression that Vatel didn't even spend much time in the kitchen and, most importantly as regards this particular issue, didn't necessarily know anything about cooking. I'm not up on today's cast of characters, but I trust that Gordon Ramsay, whether he actually cooks or not, does at least know how. Vatel was more a régisseur, the big cheese of overall event planning to the court. He may have specified the dishes and organized the supplies, but AFAIK there's no indication that he had anything to do with the execution. Write the book? I haven't even finished the article yet! I have, however, had a little constructive chat with my agent....

Silly girl, you knew exactly how long: as long as it took to type a response the moment I saw it. And you also knew I was watching for it, and we both knew that its appearance was inevitable. I remain convinced that there's a conspiracy here. Yeah, and honey, lemme tell you - what you witnessed that night was as nothing compared to what I exuded once I confirmed the facts and unearthed some others. When we saw that travesty of a play I hadn't yet discovered proof of Kelly's not having read Carême. And his... no, don't even get me started.

Yup, that's me. Hey, at least I know it. Not really. Obviously at this late date there's no way of being sure exactly how much he participated in the kitchen, but my impression has always been that he had way too much to do elsewhere. His job was organizing all the foods and festivities, planning menus, guest lists, accommodations and seating charts, discussing with chefs, placing fireworks, etc. He'd be far too busy to touch food prep himself. The fish thing is apocryphal? Says who? It wasn't by any means the only reason for the suicide, but Mme. de Sévigné is pretty definite about it having happened, and I've never seen a convincing argument to the contrary. If you have, I'd love to know where. What certainly was apocryphal was the story about his "inventing" Crème Chantilly. Actually, he expresses his ideas on the subject pretty clearly in Le Maître d'hôtel français - praises it for several practical reasons, including the fact that each guest has a chance at each dish and may even get to taste it while it's hot. And he did suggest that it might well catch on, but that its time hadn't yet come. It wasn't even as incompatible as you might think with his cuisine and presentation. Sure, it meant you couldn't have all the grosses pièces on the table at once and have everyone dig in - but you still could have done a fine display of pièces montées on the table, while serving the more edible stuff the other way and - as above - ensuring that it would be the right temperature. I need to go look up some of the later Rothschild banquets to be sure about how he used this, but he was certainly much impressed with the potential it offered for improvement in the dining experience; also with the organization of the Russian kitchens, which again he tried to emulate in certain respects.

Are you deliberately trying to give me apoplexy? Ian Kelly is a hack who knows next to nothing about Carême. 90% of his book and 95% of his play are pure invention; he has not even read Carême! Why that should give hiim the right to invent a spurious and inaccurate inner life for the man beats me. But he gets away with it, because no one knows any better. Oh, man, I really have to get cracking on my piece about this.

Yo, people, let's get our facts straight. Brillat-Savarin was not a chef, and neither was Vatel. The fish was not a problem at Versailles; it was at Chantilly that it failed to arrive on time, and that (coming on top of of a fireworks disaster the previous evening) is what precipitated Vatel's suicide. As for Carême, he'd be well worth studying with (though I'm not convinced that he'd be a good teacher - still, you couldn't help learning something by working under him). But he had nothing whatsoever against service à la russe - was quite impressed with it, in fact, and enjoyed experimenting with it late in his career. He did feel that it was less appropriate to major state banquets than the more theatrical service à la française - but he also thought it highly practical and effective for smaller, more intimate occasions.

The minute I hear anyone is sick, my genetic destiny manifests itself: there's no way I will get a good night's sleep until I have made and delivered that pot of chicken soup. After that I get a little more rational, but whatever I provide, even for the family and other nursing personnel, will tend to fall under the category of comfort food. Everyone can use a little comfort at a time like that. What it consists of depends on a lot of things - the season, for instance. In winter it'll be soups and stews. Maybe variations on a theme of pasta. I can't say I have a set repertoire - I just try to think of something appropriate to the people and the situation. I ask what the sick person might like and/or be permitted to eat. Try to some up with something soothing and original for picky appetites. For the people helping, hearty and sustaining stuff - preferably packed in easily-reheated individual portions if people are on a staggered schedule. We don't have quite the deeply-established tradition around here that you do in the South, but I must say that during the past couple of years my parents' whole neighborhood really turned up trumps in this regard, during my mother's last illness, and then later when my father got sick. Actually, I pretty much moved in and took over the cooking on those occasions, so it wasn't strictly necessary (another point to take into account when you're trying to figure out what to bring; sometimes there is already someone there to do the cooking, but you can earn that person's undying gratitude by running errands, picking up a load of groceries, etc.) - but I gotta admit that during the first couple of days after she died it was a good thing we had a huge vat of chicken cacciatore from the nice lady across the way. It was hard enough even remembering to eat, let alone thinking of something to make; we basically lived on that chicken.

Yo, son - you bein' obnox and riddick, fo' shaganoff. Quit tryin' to mess wit' poor Boris head - knomesane? Just ignore her, Boris. I think she got up on the mischievous side of the bed this morning.

But when you do it that way, how do you keep it from getting really overcooked on the outside and still flat-out raw in the middle? I like my meat really rare, but burnt on the outside and cold in the middle is not what I'm aiming for. That happened to me when I tried to do them like Sara Moulton did on TV, really thick. Remember to take all of our suggestions, even the best ones, with a grain of salt, as it were - or to adjust them to your tastes. More to the point, remind us (as you just did me) that not everyone shares our tastes! See, I like my burgers well-crusted on the outside and barely-cooked on the inside - so the approach I described works for me. The difference between that and the extreme contrast you describe is only one step in each direction, which corresponds to a very small difference in the degree of flattening. If only slightly flattening the ball doesn't do it for you... then try flattening it a bit more on the next one. If you really don't have an instinct for this sort of thing, you will have to develop one by trial and error - believe it or not you really will eventually acquire a "feel" for getting these things cooked to your satisfaction - but you can expect to over- and under-cook a few batches in the process. You'll get there. Oh - the other important point - the heat of grill or griddle. You want it good and HOT when the burger hits it, so that you get a good crust. But in the interests of getting the insides a little more cooked, there's no law that says you can't turn it down a little once the crust has formed on both sides. See, this is why I need to be here. I'm glad you told me this. I do love caramelized onions, I will check out that thread because I don't think I've ever done them right. Actually, I do put in raw onions sometimes - if I'm in the mood for raw onions! it can happen - just as some people like a slab of raw onion on a hamburger, some people like bits of one in it. Another possibility: sauté your onions a bit before mixing them in. Another, if you're in the mood for something a bit fancier: sometimes I like to mix in bits of raw onion, capers (those tiny ones discussed up-thread), and a little Dijon mustard, to semi-emulate the kind of burger you get when you're using up leftover steak tartare. (Don't try this one until you've mastered the holding-together thing - the mustard will tend to make it less cohesive, so you want to be pretty comfortable with your technique first.) I generally just set the flame under the pot at the lowest level I can get without having to worry about it blowing out the moment my back is turned. As long as the pot is covered anyway, as in your example, the temperature will be pretty consistent. If you're simmering uncovered you may occasionally need to adjust it - usually not, though. In most cases you've brought it to a boil before turning it down to simmer, right? so you know it's hot enough to give off steam. That tiny flame will be hot enough to keep it going. Others here may disagree with me - I tend to have pretty relaxed notions about these things. I figure the base is just as OK as the chicken - after all, you're not going to eat either one without cooking it enough to kill whatever critters may (or may not...) have been lurking in it. If it were me, I wouldn't worry about it.

Ah, the calm after the storm.... Excellent choice, Hurricane Mongo. Welcome, Boris, to the chiaroscuro of blog-land. Something for the rest of us to look forward to (while Mongo puts his feet up and munches on the Indo-Korean equivalent of Cheetos).

Uhm...er...I noticed this, too. Is the fact that the new blogger hasn't started yet so disconcerting because we've grown addicted to the Blog? "The eGullet Food Blog...the New Crack!" Maybe this would be a good time to suggest to the "eGPowers That Be" at they should shift the Blog hand-over date to the middle of the week or Thursday night instead of the weekend. A lot of people just aren't home on the weekend, aren't home to answer tagging emails or to surf eGullet (from what I understand, most people surf eGullet during the weekdays...like me ). Just a thought...[as he quickly ducks out the door] Nah. The tag actually takes place mid-week, so that there is plenty of time for the blogger-elect to accept/refuse the tag and then, having accepted, to get good and nervous. 'Course, Mongo may have improved on that tradition - we won't know until a successor creeps out of the woodwork. As for surfing the Gullet during weekdays - I can't even remember whether this was up-thread or via PM, but that's why I argued when Mongo placed Hump-day on Wednesday. For those of us with no fixed schedule, work avoidance can take place at any time of day or night, and on any day of the week!

The good tiny capers are usually labeled "Nonpareil Capers," and you'll usually find them in tiny expensive jars. If you love them as I do and are daunted by the price, take heart and look further - there are a lot of places where you can buy these tiny capers by the pint or the quart, and amazingly cheap. Best deal I've seen is about 5 bucks for a quart jar - brand was Victoria, I believe. Costco often has them - so do more and more supermarkets in these parts, though not as cheap (but still a way better deal than that tiny overpriced jar - and the capers are just as good). Toliver's point about the fat content of your hamburgers is an important one, not only as regards making them hold together, but also in the matter of making them taste good. I never use anything leaner than 80% for a burger - leaner than that and there isn't enough of a burger flavor to 'em. Also, while I concur with Mark922 about forming a ball and about not over-handling the meat, I would add that the moment when it is a ball is the moment for handling. If at that point you get it sufficiently squished together so that the texture of the outer surface becomes a bit smoother and tighter, you can tell that it will hold together well. Then no need to flatten it much until it's actually on the grill or in the skillet; and even then, save some of the flattening action for the second side - by that time the first side will already be cohesive and will help the rest stay together, if you see what I mean. EDIT: if your mystery meat is only a couple of months old, it certainly isn't too old to use. Maybe if you take it out and let it defrost it will be easier to tell what it was. Even if not - might as well do something with it, if only making Mystery Stock. What the hell - those mystery packages sometimes hold delicious surprises! BTW I very often freeze meat with its original packaging - even if I've repackaged it first I keep the part with the label and stick it where it will be visible and legible when I encounter it again.

I should perhaps rephrase my post about this - those are actually a lot more mature than I ever let mine get when I was growing them just for salad use. What I was really referring to were young garlic shoots - probably a lot more tender and with a more delicate flavor than full-scale scapes. BTW I do have some real scapes, though (can't remember whether the same term is used with other alliums), on my Catawissa Egyptian Walking Onions. Traditionally you don't cut those, except when you actually need to use a few - that's how the onions "walk." So you don't get a very large onion. but you sure get plenty of 'em. You can also use the bulbils (a word I can never mention without thinking of Abdul Emir) as if they were shallots - they dry well and also, I gather, are good pickled, though I haven't yet tried that. And of course the young 'uns make splendid scallions, and they don't seem to have a particular season, so they provide a virtually year-round supply of all four stages. Very convenient, them old-fashioned walking onions.

I snip 'em into salad, like chives but more flavorful. If you grow shallots, them makes good greens for the same purpose. Used to keep a pot of each going on my windowsill all winter, and snip a bit of both for every salad.

Same with the pancakes for peking duck and mu shu - composition not too dissimilar, actually, including the puffing (though for an entirely different reason, of course). The confidence-builder on this, when I first tried it, is that you fry the things dry, so if you blow it there's no flying grease, no mess, no danger. I never did blow it, though, because as the above thread testifies, it's a lot easier than it looks, especially if you do it coolly enough. Makes the whole process go a lot faster, too. Put a pair in the pan, roll the next pair, flip the pair in the pan, peel apart the last pair cooked, and it's time to take the new pair out of the pan and start the whole cycle again. Before you know it you have a stack of 60.

I've had 'em that way, and they're wonderful - but there's more than one way of skinning a cat. Aside from the malmsey preparation mentioned above (of which one of the guests at the PO'B dinner we gave in the Great Cabin of "HMS" Rose said to me, "I'd like you to come to my house and cook this for me every day, please"), I have the fondest memories of the way they were served at The Grand Ticino - sliced into a vaguely scalloppini-like shape, sautéed (I think probably lightly dredged in flour first, but it's been a while and I wouldn't swear to it), and served with a very light brown sauce with a bit of a bite to it, probably from the generous dollop of capers. Damn - Ticino seems to be gone. I may have to re-invent the dish from memory. I loved it so much that I could rarely bring myself to order anything else when I went there.

Aha! I was wondering about that. I'm on the lookout for a kombucha mother, and was rather surprised that a search for "kombucha" on eGullet, a couple of days ago, produced exactly ONE hit. Now there'll be three, heh heh. Can you make it four and give me suggestions? I've found lists on-line, but I think I'd rather get one from someone I "know." And lest this appear to be OT - yes I'm interested in the kombucha itself, but the minute I read about it I also wanted to try it as vinegar. As for me, I've probably already mentioned it up-thread, but my vinegar of choice remains my own home-made red wine vinegar. It's a bit rough, but I like it that way - usually I don't even bother with aging and filtering, though when I do I get a lovely smooth result, almost drinkable. I also make an herb-infused vinegar called "Arf!" - rosemary, garlic, tarragon in generic cider vinegar - over time it mellows nicely and tastes a lot fancier than you might expect, given its humble origins. EDIT: Ah yes, I see I did indeed mention it upthread. BTW, anybody wants a god red vinegar mother, I've never mailed one before but would be glad to attempt it.

Perhaps we should go knock on bleudauvergne's door....

Lucky lucky you - we couldn't get lamb sweetbreads when we were writing our book - had to substitute veal. Now, I'm not saying we suffered - far from it. But lamb was what they were supposed to be and lamb was what we wanted. And lamb is still what I want. At any rate, the recipe was highly successful and I can recommend it unreservedly: Sweetbreads in Malmsey from Lobscouse & Spotted Dog. Surprisingly, Malmsey isn't all that hard to come by (less so than lamb sweetbreads!)v, but you can substitute any good Madeira.