balmagowry

Oh gosh, and here I thought it was New KorIndian Fusion (frequently elided as "Kor'nFusion") Cuisine we were twittering about. Silly me. I must not have gotten the latest memo from on high.

Wow - not only that, but who knew they were part of the Citrus family and were related both to Rue (which I grow) and to the infamous Szechuan Pepper (which I'd be rich if I grew)?

Nope - my marjoram looks like the other picture and, as described, tastes like a milder version of oregano. The stuff in your picture has a different leafing habit, nodes almost more like mullein, though that isn't quite right for the flavor profile you describe. Also, those darker brown stems aren't characteristic of any marjoram I know. Damn, when is someone going to invent the Taste and Texture Plug-In? It's so hard to tell just from a picture!

Definitely summer savory in the back. I'm not convinced that the other is marjoram, though - too grey and fuzzy-looking. Besides, I can't imagine Lucy not knowing marjolaine. I'll look it up later.

Oh.

I know this is real and serious business, and I'm glad to see it being discussed seriously, but at the same time... Suzanne, your account of Jack Hitt's presentation had me laughing till I fell out of my chair. "But wait!" Thank you, funny lady, for a great guffaw.

And all the more for having to do so under the cloud of your pity. For shame, Mongo! I'll never forget what it was like to see remarks like that piling up thick and deep during the last two days of Lucy's blog, all the time knowing that that poor sucker everyone felt so sorry for was... me. Whoever just got the torch has a full enough plate without being forcibly reminded what a tough act adoxograph is to follow! Whoever you are, pay no attention to that curmudgeon behind the curtain: I bet your blog will be great, and I for one am looking forward to it. The blog is dead - long live the blog! And thank you, adoxograph, for that poetic curtain speech. I don't care if it was rehearsed - it was perfect. (Not to mention that you've made me realize that one of these days I'm just going to have to give catfish another chance after all.)

I have no doubt! I'm sure you're wit and zippy writing style have brought in a lot more newbies than you know--just like me! Ah, shucks. Thank you. Um... meaning you too have brought in more people than you realize (which I'm sure is true), or meaning... that you joined because of me me me me me? Sounds like it's probably the former, but the phrasing was just ambiguous enough that I thought I'd ask - to be known as the person who reeled in DoverCanyon would be one hell of a coup! Second that motion. And third it and fourth it. adoxograph: master of technology, blogger to the stars. Thank you - it's been a wonderful week.

My thing is . . . I don't think of red onions as particularly sour. No - they're not. And neither are some of the other things I mentioned. What I was really talking about was more generally how apparently contrasting flavors can complement and balance each other... and then I couldn't resist bringing in the sweet/sour thing as another example of that. Hubris goeth.... But though a good red onion is quite sweet, it's a different KIND of sweet from blueberry pie, and it does have that touch of acid bite to it - just enough to make the combination sound incongruous to most people. If we didn't do it when you confessed to Kraft Mac & Cheese, you can figure you're safe now. Though I must admit, with Lender's bagels, any flavor, you're definitely pushing your luck. Maybe it's because you are like a dog! I'm sure my dog would eat them....

Boy, if that ain't quintessential Mongo in a nutshell...! Friend of mine makes a nice powerful "Cholula" jelly and keeps us all so copiously supplied that we're always looking for new applications. The crowd in question is not, generally speaking, unadventurous in matters gastronomic, but for some reason they all thought I was weird when I suggested pairing it with vanilla ice cream. They thought me even weirder when I did it and reported I'd been absolutely right. What is wrong with these people? And yes, I bet blueberry pie is delicious with a bit of red onion. Hey, if you can put Seville orange or sour cherries on your duck, apricot/plum sauce on your spare-ribs, and raspberries in your vinegar, why not onions on your blueberries? One of my favorite sound-bites when I'm lecturing on the Renaissance is something to the effect that around that time the use of sweet and sour in cookery paralleled the use of chiaroscuro in art. Gimmicky, but true!

I'm not always up for a challenge. One type of challenge I routinely turn down is anything having to do with sales/marketing, because I'm so bad at it. OTOH - I'm afraid this may not count because it's too close at hand, but it IS still a marketing thingy of a sort - I'm in the process of pitching a story (i.e., have made preliminary "feeler" pitch and been told they're interested in hearing more) on eG to a publication I sometimes write for. Don't want to say more about it right now because I don't want to jinx it. But will that do for now? I've also brought in a small handful of newbies - mostly lurking so far, but it's a start. And, um, I do have a friend in the South of France whom I'm going to try to entice. And... hey, I'm thinking, I'm thinking.

I don't see why they'd disagree with it; seems to me it's quite true. I think behemoth has a point about the language problem: it's damn hard to make a site really-truly international when there isn't a language to do it in. Short of esperanto (and we know how successful that was) or repealing the Tower of Babel, I don't see how it can be done. And though it does necessarily give my compatriots an unfair advantage, I think it's pretty obvious that standardizing on English is the best compromise available. Of course there is the minor factor that the site's founders, movers and shakers are American, indeed New-York-area American, and naturally that is going to have its effect. But English is the default language of the internet, and it's closer to a universal language than anything else on hand. (Gone are the days of my Lycée childhood, when French was the diplomatic language and all the ambassdors' kids were in my class.) It still isn't fair to most of the rest of the world, but hey, life ain't fair, and the fact is that speaking English is an increasingly common fact of life no matter where one is. In fact, I should think that that would be even more true in India than in those few parts of the world where the sun occasionally did set on the British Empire. I'm not necessarily suggesting this is a Good Thing - merely that it is a fact which must be acknowledged and taken into account. In fact, to my chagrin (insofar as I may be permitted to overgeneralize and to speak on behalf of native English speakers in general), I have found that as a rule foreigners who speak English as a second language do so very much better than native English speakers speak anything else (if indeed they do speak anything else, which in itself is distressingly unusual). So maybe it's just as well that the global community is kind enough to standardize on the language of the linguistically-deprived.... Actually, though - while I agree that the American-Euro-centric aspect of the site isn't actually intentional, there is another reason for it and there is a possible solution. I think one important reason that eG's population is so concentrated in certain geographic areas is that that is where it gets the publicity and that is where the active recruiting efforts take place. Which stands to reason, since that is where its movers and shakers are based. But it doesn't have to stay that way. India, again, is a particularly good example, precisely because it has a good-sized English-speaking population and, as you say, a tremendous internet culture - and because eG does have a pretty lively Indian forum. Why NOT arrange, then, for some serious press coverage and recruiting in that part of the world? Can you doubt that there's a community there just waiting to be drawn in and established? Yes, until the state of the art in automated translation improves to the point where it's no longer a laughing matter, sure, there will always be some language barrier issues. But broadly speaking, I don't think they're insurmountable ones. I do think, though, that mounting a publicity/recruiting effort in India requires some agents in place - in a volunteer setup like this one it can't reasonably be done from here, if only because the people running things here already have enough on their plates; and because the person doing the job really has to be someone who knows the market intimately. The icing on that cake would be finding a way to entice the various eG sub-communities to interact more. I don't often venture onto the Indian parts of the board because they are, you should pardon the expression, foreign to me. I'm not proud of this. On the rare occasions when I have ventured I have found it fascinating. (And it sure is a cheap way to travel to exotic places!) By the same token, my hat is off to you for posting outside that area as much as you do - IIRC you're really the only Indian member who does. One reason I labored so long and hopelessly to persuade you to blog is that I already know from your regular posts what a welcome blast of perspective you bring - I am convinced that if you could bring yourself to do a foodblog we would all gain enormously from it. You included, of course. Sigh. I know I'm being a little too idealistic here - like naturally gravitates to like, and the little communities on eG are sort of analogous to the Chinatowns and Little Italies of big cities like New York. The pot only melts so far. But interesting stuff happens when it does. And hey, interesting stuff also happens when it doesn't. Those of us already here will not soon run out of enthralling new territory to explore. And if we can get a few Ends-of-the-Earth recruitment crusades working, the territory will keep expanding far faster than we can explore it. And may the sun never set on the eGullet Empire....

No way! Get with the program! Corn Dogs are one of Texas greatest gifts to the culinary world. Way! I don't doubt you for a moment - it's just one of those experiences I haven't yet enjoyed. One has to leave a few things to look forward to in this life, you know. Hell, if I'd done it all, I'd have nothing left to do with myself but write about it all, and what would happen to my excuses for procrastination? OK, I'm not the expert here, of course, but this seems wrong to me. What's the point of a high-quality corn-dog made out of the best possible ingredients? Isn't it supposed to be a bit greasy and disreputable and wicked and indigestible? Shouldn't it at least be bad for you? Just now I'm thinking that the above rhapsody on the marvels of the internet and the foodblog might make an even better one.... Brooks, has anyone ever told you that you come up with some really weird ideas? You can't really think something like that would fly. A market for what? Recreating old recipes and writing about it? I think you're just trying to mess with my head. Shame on you.

Yes, I've been meaning to look up MobyP's class. Actually, though, I've been making pasta for years, so that in itself isn't the part that really grabbed me (though you know how it is, something you haven't done in a while suddenly becomes exciting again when someone reminds you of it) - it was the whole wheat aspect, which is something I don't think I've ever tried. Or no - I think I did try it once, early in my pasta-making days, and didn't have the patience to get it right, so reverted to my standbys, the classic egg pastas which I love. On reflection I'm pretty sure that the last time I tried whole wheat I wasn't mixing the dough thoroughly enough, going through the second crumb and ball stages - the result being that the dough was too stiff and brittle to work with. That's the part that ignited the exclamation point over my head as I was reading your post. Nice thing (one of many) about making one's own pasta: fresh full-sheet lasagne. I used to make a Non-Red lasagna that I thought rather marvelous - just couldn't bring myself to overpower the fresh pasta with the assertive flavors of tomato sauce. Hmmmm... wonder if I can recreate that from memory. I never wrote it down because it all seemed so obvious at the time. Sigh. Nother of those many nice things: fresh fettucine at the height of basil season. Why the pesto doesn't overwhelm it too is something I never stopped to think about, and refuse to worry about now. (Actually, I don't think the tomato sauce really overpowers it either - I just think the lack of tomato sauce results in a better showcase for the pasta, if you see what I mean.)

Harumph. I doubt that, somehow. You look pretty smart to me. You're right, of course. It is a new thing in our world - as new as the widespread use of the internet. eGullet is not the first place I've encountered it, though it's distinctly among the most enjoyable and interesting. There's a certain logic to on-line romance, a sort of corollary to its more prosaic (but more successful) counterpart, the formation of communities. Global village and all that. For the first time in history communities are being formed absolutely without reference to geography. Which means that people from anywhere, and from all walks of life and damn near all economic brackets, can find each other and can connect and engage in good conversation purely on the basis of mutual interests. Think about it! Where alliances used to be formed almost exclusively because of need and propinquity, now you can find kindred spirits, real friends or colleagues or mentors or students or pals, anywhere in the world - with a couple of mouse clicks. Talk about messing with your relationship to the space-time continuum! And that's just the infrastructure which makes something like eG possible - one hell of an infrastructure it is, though. Add to that the fact that the food theme is infinitely diverse on the one hand but absolutely universal on the other; throw in some damn good design, generally sane management principles, and a truly dedicated volunteer staff; and you get a huge community, a community every bit as real as it is virtual. No wonder the foodblogs are so extraordinary. And no wonder foodblogging is such an extraordinary experience. So what if we take pictures of our food? If that's weird and cultish, then label me weird and cultish. I could do worse.

have you been speaking to my mother? or mrs. jones? Er, no - I didn't realize that was necessary, so I just went ahead and figured it out all by my ownself. My apologies to both Mrs. Joneses for failing to keep up with them. I'll say! Last I heard, I thought deep-fried Snickers bars were the exclusive purview of Scotland. Or was that deep-fried Mars bars? Dammit, Mongo, now you've put a strain on MY relationship with the space-time continuum just by mentioning the things! What ever happened to putting warning labels on dangerous posts? I've never had a corn-dog (though fifi's Incredibly Strange Cravings thread has certainly piqued my curiosity), but I may just have to go out and seek one now. I have a feeling that may be the only remedy for this degree of cosmic dimensional disorientation.

It's like that everywhere, isn't it - especially after you've been going at it for a couple of years. Kind of frustrating to run across a great repeat "find" and realize there's no excuse for buying it because you already have two (one for use, another for parts) and have already given one to the only friend who would want it, all courtesy of previous sales. And yet the urge to buy it is still strong! (If it's Magnalite or something comparable I'll buy it anyway, secure in the certainty that SOMEDAY I'll want to give it to someone.) Mysterious circumstance: Some years ago I went to a really promising garage sale (often you can tell by the house and locale) and sure enough found many marvelous things including a KitchenAid mixer - an old one, very solid - for 10 bucks. TEN? Yes, ten, because the cord was frayed and it didn't always work. At that price, I figured it was worth rewiring. And it was, even after we discovered that it was so intricately put together we actually couldn't rewire it ourselves (possibly the only thing I've EVER seen that I couldn't). Took it to a Little Man who did a fine job and ended up with the KA for a total of 50 bucks. Good deal, no? it had all its parts and original manual, from the 50s I think it was. My mother had always coveted a KitchenAid, so this made a great present for her. She was delighted, but her kitchen was set up in such a way that she really didn't have a spot where she could conveniently leave it set up and ready for use, so... you guessed it, I don't think she ever did use it. After she died I thought, well, it's just sitting there, so I might as well take it back - no one in that house is going to have a use for it. I don't have the counter space either, but I'll manage somehow. Searched the house high and searched it low, sought sideways and upside-down, looked in places both probable and improbable - and nary a sign of that mixer did I ever see. Do KitchenAid mixers evanesce if they're not used frequently enough? Do they melt away because their owners are unworthy? Do they sacrifice themselves on their owners' funeral pyres? Perhaps I just imagined this one? Or perhaps its ghostly spirit is still hiding somewhere in the house? We may never know.

Huzzah for the heroine of the pasta victory! That dish was just beautiful, and you've inspired me to run out and do the same. I'm not on Montignac, of course, so I could play with the flour mix... but I'm not sure I'd want to. What this will be like a couple of months from now, when I have tomatoes and basil in the garden, I almost tremble to imagine. BTW re the Franciscan Ivy. I looked on eBay yesterday, and sure enough there's quite a bit of it up for auction - though mostly in sets. Also - when I was in Gilgo yesterday I looked at the sugar-bowl and creamer we've had there for as long as I can remember (maybe they came with the house?) because your plates strongly reminded me of them. I had been puzzled because the ivy pattern was similar but the physical shape of the pieces was very different from the sugar/cream sets I'd seen on eBay - much more ornate. (Idiot, idiot, I didn't think to take a picture. Will next time I'm there.) Well, they ARE Royal Johnson, and the only other legible thing on the stamp was the word "Ivy" (and nothing in the illegible bit looked as if it could have been "Franciscan.") So they aren't Franciscan Ivy, but the painted design is so very similar that I'm wondering if they could have been the precursor of that pattern. We've had the house since 1960, so I know these pieces are older than that - how MUCH older is anyone's guess. Now I'm curious - shall do my best to find out.

Oh wow. Anna, can I come and garage-sale in YOUR neighborhood?

HAIL TO THE MASTER! Those pictures are awesome - the colors of that first one! (Toto, I don't think we're in Chicago any more, though we might be in Kansas....) And the lemon soft serve has me drooling again, of course. I have to see the raspberry swirl. Can't wait for the rest. Why do people drive cars into each other? Because they can. :shrug: Weird. We are a weird race.

Again, a good point (though you'd probably be safer saying "almost any dialect of US English" - there are some pretty wild ones out there! ). BUT... isn't that an even better argument against classifying blogs by country of origin? Not just in the US, then, but anywhere. A London blog would be very different from a Leeds one or a Yorkshire one; a blog done in Normandy would be poles apart from one done in Nice; and so on. And as for the provinces of India and China! It would be way cool if we could recruit bloggers from every imaginable gastronomic sphere, though that might rob the process of some of its spontaneity. Then again, maybe we don't do so badly, since as it is every blog is distinguished by the highly individual personality of its author. Mind you, I'm really playing devil's advocate here, since I do also agree with Brooks that it's fun seeing it jump the ocean, in any direction. I only raised (and belabored) the point because I didn't think it was fair to suggest that the US somehow hogged the blog scene and that that made for too much sameness. Sure, the bloggers are predominantly American or living in America - same is probably true of the membership. But I do think the blogs end up being satisfyingly diverse! Hey, I know who I'd like to see blog (I've just about given up Mongo as a hopeless case) - Marco Polo, that's who. An intriguing mix of England and Korea. Somebody should tag him, heh heh.

You think? Wow, thank you. Maybe I'll give it a try. Very true. And maybe from t'other side of the ocean we really do look like one big amorphous population of The Great Unwashed (though most of us dutifully take that bath once a year whether we need it or not). I remember when Ma and I were in London for the English publication of L&SD we were staying with friends of friends, very charming and kind people, and were much amused to overhear snatches of conversation like "We've got these two Americans staying with us - no, no, they're not at all what you'd expect, really they're not, they're quite intelligent and funny, you'll like them" - and so on. We were relieved by that verdict, and pleased to feel we'd done our patriotic duty merely by being relatively conversable; but I shudder to think what it is they did expect. Whatever it is, you can be sure it could have hailed from any part of this demi-continent, this blessed plot, this earth, this America, and they wouldn't have known the difference - unless, perhaps, they heard our accents side by side. (They were so nice to us, though! Now there's someone who could do a foodblog worth reading, bless her - so much at home in her kitchen and so unfazed by our invasion of it. So unselfconscious - I'm remembering one day when we were at a loose end between interviews, just sort of hanging about the kitchen and lazily enjoying the respite, and there's Brigid casually tossing a chicken into a pan with a few onions and probably some potatoes, and then she turns to us and grins and says, "there, I'll just bung that in the oven and then there'll be time to pop round to the pub for a pint - come with me, why don't you, and when we get back it'll be done, you WILL stay and eat it with us, won't you?" - which of course we did, and it was excellent, especially on top of the pint. They lived in a tall narrow house, in a comfortably unfashionable part of London, whose walls and surfaces were ENTIRELY covered with books - I couldn't possibly have dreamed up a more perfect place to roost.)

No, but take a look at Ms. Victoria's blog - I suspect her husband Keifel would have to be voted the reigning expert on it, and he waxed lyrical about his grandmother's. We all drooled.

I'd say probably lower overhead in general. No huge physical plant, no advertising, probably different supplier and transport channels with perhaps fewer middle-men jacking up cost. And not only non-union labor, but in many cases all-in-the-family labor without rigidly regulated job descriptions or hours, so the same person can be cashier, floor sweeper, produce display arranger, etc. and can work around the clock without interference from the government. Insurance? Benefits? don't think so.... And on the other side of the coin, more personal interest in the quality of the wares and a more intimate acquaintance with them.

No need to search, now that we have Soba's Shiny New Foodblog Index pinned at the top of the forum. A quick glance at same reveals that the Down Under Blog was misgabi's - another one for me to look forward to reading.