Chris Amirault

When I have the time, I do what Mitch does, following Todd English (following, I'm sure, someone else, perhaps Mitch).

That "juice" isn't quite as sweet as a syrup, so I have to fiddle with it. I've looked and can't find it. Believe me, I've tried.

Sadly, they didn't know that heat cooked food. Seriously.

I wonder if most community gardeners are doing what Balzer calls "recreational cooking." Certainly a lot of what happens around eG Forums is both recreational and, um, non-recreational.

I'd find this merely cynical if not for a pile of first-hand experiences. I live in South Providence, a neighborhood with a large mix of incomes and ethnicities. My house is half a block from a thriving McDonalds and an always busy Family Dollar store, both oozing evidence of the lack of cooking around here. Of course, the same is true at our local Shaw's supermarket, where the vast majority of the carts exclude fresh produce or meat. (Believe me, I check every time.) The real rush of blood to the head comes from our neighbors. There are three sisters aged 5-12 that live on our street, and they often swing by the house if we're cooking or eating outdoors. When they do, I feel like I'm in one of those Museum of Natural History dioramas, in an exhibit on ancient food rituals. They look at me as if I'm Merlin conjuring mysterious spirits, sniffing around trying to figuring out what happened to the air around them. Sometimes their comments about food are merely predictable: they like ice cream and profess an interest in "French food" which they can't explain (I suspect fries). But other times they say things that are downright depressing. They've asked me to identify the rudiments of cooking: onions, chicken, lettuce, tomatoes, and meat. ("What's that?" one said. "Lamb," I said. "What's lamb?" "It's meat." "What's meat?") They clearly have no idea what our garden is, and we had to explain that we eat the plants that grow there several times before they understood. The kicker came the other day when I was preparing these Korean barbecued short ribs on the grill: As I was pushing the short ribs around the grill, one of the kids asked, "What's that red stuff?" I looked around for something red -- a bell pepper? a tomato? -- but couldn't find it. "What red stuff?" She pointed at the short ribs. "That red stuff." "The meat?" "No," she said, impatient. "That red stuff." She was pointing at the coals. I stumbled. "Um, that's fire. Those are hot coals. They get hot." "Oh," she said. "So why does it get hot?" I realized that I was talking to kids who didn't know that heat applied to food is called "cooking." And as I did, I imagined Harry Balzer looking over my shoulder and saying, "See? That's what I'm talking about, dope. Get over it."

I am haunted by Harry Balzer. Last week, Michael Pollan wrote an article that was, ostensibly, about food television for the NYT Magazine; click here for the full text. As I read it, I focused on what, to me, was the most depressing aspect of the piece. Sprinkled throughout the article are microeulogies about the death of cooking. In case you missed them: Think of it: that's less than ten minutes each for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And that's for "food preparation," not "cooking." Peeling plastic off of a package and waiting for the microwave is "food preparation." For a definition of "cooking," Pollan turned to veteran food-marketing researcher, Harry Balzer, the Ghost of Dinners Future: When Balzer says, "People call things ‘cooking’ today that would roll their grandmother in her grave — heating up a can of soup or microwaving a frozen pizza," you'd think he'd be sad. I am. He's not: You want more from Mr. Balzer? Of course you do! Put that in your Aga and braise it.

Here's dinner. Unless I have soju around (which I rarely do), I usually make myself a Caipirinha to sip while I'm prepping and tasting. It goes great with this meal: The short ribs out of the fridge and getting ready for the grill: Lettuce washed and dried: Grilling the meat: Grilled scallions: Grilled red onions: Some other inauthentic stuff, too. Grilled poblanos: The shiitake: Kimchi -- a brand I'll never buy again. It's strange to say that it was bland, but bland it was: Fried garlic: Pickles: Ssamjang: Finally, the meat itself, which I cut using a knife instead of the traditional scissors: Service: The beef was fantastic, as I had hoped. I noted the kimchi disappointment above; the ssamjang was a bit too salty for my tastes, but I'm not sure which ingredient contributed too much of that. Gotta go retest it, though.

Wanted to report on this find: This stuff is fantastic, extremely thick and flavorful. 1/2 t goes a loooooong way. As far as I can tell, it's pretty pure stuff: Honorably produced, indeed.

Green Rice Ami didn't know the trick about sauteing mushrooms without oil, my contribution to this preparation. Prepare 2-3 c uncooked rice as you wish; firm is better than soft. Brown 1/2 c slivered almonds in 2 T butter until very fragrant and slightly browned, and set aside. While rice cooks, melt 2 T each of butter and oil in a skillet, and add 1 T of mustard seeds, stirring until they pop. Add 2 T cumin seeds and stir until fragrant, then 10 curry leaves that you've torn or minced, stirring, yes, until fragrant. Add 1 c small dice onion with a pinch of salt and saute until it's translucent. Add 1/4 c -- yes, that's right: 1/4 c -- of sliced garlic and saute it until it's very fragrant but not brown. Remove onion mixture to the almond pot or bowl. In the same skillet (don't wipe it!) place 3-4 c sliced mushrooms all at once without any oil. Stir the mushrooms constantly: they'll first start to heat through, then give off their moisture; when you've cooked that moisture off, they should be done. Add them and the almonds to the onion mixture; stir to combine. In a large pot, add 6 c roughly chopped fresh spinach to a T or two of butter, and saute until it's wilted but still toothy. Add the onion/mushroom mixture and the rice, and stir all ingredients carefully together (so as not to mash the rice). Adjust seasoning with salt and pepper and serve.

I feel like a big project is in order.... Eyeing the pate de campagne....

Last night, I decided to add to the selection this Waldorf variation I'm calling a Ja, Mon Cocktail: 2 oz Swedish punsch (Underhill Punsch Tales version). 1 oz rhum agricole (Niesson) 1 oz lemon 2 dashes pimento dram (homemade) dash cinnamon tincture I mixed up the booze for both and put it in the fridge; I'll add the citrus and muddled cherry juices just before I head over to the event. I also bought a couple of liters of soda just in case they don't have any. (Stopping myself from bringing over my own ice, which, even for me, seems a bit excessive.)

I found Boca Loca cachaca very cheap in my neighborhood ($11/fifth) and have been playing around with a sling that stands, right now, as: 3 oz cachaca 1 oz lime 1 oz 2:1 cane syrup 1/2 oz Cherry Heering 2 dashes Angostura 1 dash Maraschino 3 cherries In non-bottled test runs, I've muddled the cherries, added the booze, shaken, strained over ice, and topped with just a bit of soda. At the event I'm attending, my guess is that there will be (a) wet ice and (b) overzealous soda use. I also think that the bottle is gonna warm up after I've chilled it. (The bottle will just be sitting on a drinks table; I have slight hopes that there will be a bartender present but I doubt it.) So I'm thinking that I'll just bottle this without water, put a note on it describing what to do -- "Ice -- Sling -- Soda -- Stir" or something....

I'm going to be cooking something in the book From Julia Child's Kitchen, my favorite of hers and a wonderful book even if you aren't cooking from it. The photos by Paul Child, the technique tips, and the tone of the book itself evoke Julia in a way that, I think, both earlier and later books do not. It's also a complete text in its own right. I haven't chosen a dish from it; I keep getting stuck looking at the remarkable photo on the title page.

I think I'll be going with a base to which soda can be added. I have a few ideas I'll be playing with this weekend, but I'd appreciate suggestions.

Using ChryZ's recipe for ssamjang for tonight: 2 T gochujang 2 T water 1 T minced scallion 1 T rice wine 1 T sesame oil (pressed from roasted seeds) 1 T doenjang 1 T chili flakes 1 T garlic powder 2 T roasted sesame Frying some garlic slices, have some kimchi, making quick cucumber pickles. Didn't grab any bean sprouts, stupidly, but have the lettuce (and a bit of excellent-looking baby octopus salad). Also be grilling some red onions and shiitake. Anything else I should consider?

Cure at appropriately cool and relatively dry conditions: check. Be scrupulous about cleaning during prep, grinding, stuffing: check. Prior to consumption, wash (with what, exactly?) and perhaps peel casings: check. If fuzzy, green mold shows up... wash down with a vinegar solution as per Sam's post? rub with olive oil as per the Barcelona dude? let it bloom, bloom, bloom as per the Calabria dudes?

I also saw the counter folks peeling off the casing (that had clearly been washed); perhaps that's an additional precaution? ETA that I've never cured anything at 30C (which the converter I just used tells me is 86F).

Say a bit more! Specific ingredients, proportions, cold or room temp, etc.

Found incredible beef short ribs on Arthur Ave in NYC this weekend, and immediately thought of making kalbi. I was planning to marinade them for the work day, and I like them sliced pretty thick anyway, so I cut the ribs into pieces and then started in on the accordion cuts: Some were too thin at one end, so I just created a 2-part flap: Ground up some ginger, garlic, onion (no scallions...): A couple of chiles from the back yard: Added soy, sesame, simple syrup, a ton of black pepper, and roasted, ground Thai chile: Marinating now; I'll grill tonight. More pix then.

Thanks, dougal. From this should we conclude that NY should close that shop as a carcinogenic health hazard? Your references would suggest that certainty is impossible. Or am I missing something?

In our eG Q&A with Gary and Mardee Regan back in 2004, Gary discussed bottled drinks briefly. The basics are simple: I've seen the water fraction (which you add bc of the lost dilution by ice, of course) as low as 1/4, but as with most things you must fiddle to see what you think. I've talked about bottled drinks with a few bartenders, and they all admit that they do it quite regularly for catered events; the apprentices at Tales also devote a lot of time to batch cocktail production. It's a tricky project, though, as ratios can get thrown off, citrus can grow dull, and the like. I've had success with Jack Roses, and I'm thinking about a spiced Daiquiri made with pineapple-infused rum for an event this weekend. I'd be interested to hear what sorts of drinks work well when bottled, and which drinks bomb.

Bumping this back up. Additions? Edits? I'm thinking I might swap out the Campari for two bottles of bitters (Angostura and orange)....

Bumping this topic up. I had a blast researching this Edible Rhody article on chimi trucks on Providence's south side. Most of the trucks stick to Broad Street, though some can be seen around town and on college campuses. There's also a new Chinese Iron Wok truck installed most afternoons and evenings on Thayer Street on Brown's campus. As this topic has been dormant for a few years, I'd be eager to see what has come and gone from your streets!

Ratios?

You're not going to get an argument from me about Euro-centrism in US food critic circles. But instead of slamming the list, can you propose some new places that you believe should be on the list and that meet your criteria?