Chris Amirault

Well-designed sauce pans don't need spouts; if their lips are shaped appropriately, as with my Sitram saucier, you can pour easily without a spout. My gripe: burner caps on the single-ring gas burners on virtually all non-professional ranges, which push flame out and away from the center instead of up. Fat Guy lays out the problem in this post, in which he responds to my complaint about hot handles and singed pan sides:

I buy multi-pound bags of cumin seed and black pepper from Penzey's every order.

Maine Baked Beans This recipe for Maine Baked Beans is an adaptation of a recipe printed on the packaging for the soldier beans sold by the Kennebec Bean Company of North Vassalboro, Maine. It has no pretensions to be anything other than what it is: a solid, meaty baked bean dish that makes barbecue, hot dogs, johnnycakes, fresh corn, and just about anything else sing. They also make for a wondrous winter breakfast, and the recipe is built for overnight cooking as a result. This method is especially fine if you're using the hardy Maine soldier bean, a smoky, firm bean that's worth hunting down (and unlike the red kidney beans that others, including John Thorne in Serious Pig, suggest). If you find them, I urge you to take advantage of their perfection and cook 'em long, low, and slow. Though salt pork works here, the dish brings out the best in fine bacon. Just make sure it's thickly cut; you want the toothy texture of the lardons in the final dish. Most recipes suggest a 4:1 bean to hog ratio, but I find that these particular beans happily soak up porky goodness and usually use 1/2 pound. These beans go for caramel depth, not tooth-aching sweetness, so add a T or two of brown sugar if the molasses isn't enough for you. For best results, use a 2 1/2 quart bean pot. A dutch oven will also do the trick. 1 lb soldier beans (see above) 1/3 c molasses 2 tsp dry mustard 1 T kosher salt 1 tsp black pepper 1 tsp allspice, ground 1 tsp cloves, ground 1 medium onion, 1/2" slices 1/4 lb slab bacon, cut into lardons 1. Soak the beans overnight. Simmer in water the next day until a bean's skin splits when you blow on it. Drain the beans, reserving the liquid. 2. Combine all other ingredients except the lardons and place them in the bean pot. Sprinkle the bacon over the top of the beans, and pour in enough of the reserved bean liquid to cover everything. You want about 1/4" of liquid over the beans; if you're doing this overnight, err on the side of caution and add extra, for you don't the beans drying out. 3. Just before you're going to hit the hay, place the beans in the oven, turn the oven to 275F, and go to bed. (If you're in a hurry, you can bump the heat up to 300F and cook them for six hours or so, but once you've woken to the smell of beans, you'll never go back.) When you wake up 8-10 hours later in a house that smells the way heaven smells to a Mainer, you'll probably want to add some more liquid to get the consistency you prefer. Soldier beans are very forgiving, especially if you're keeping that oven low and using a bean pot, and they'll have both tenderness and integrity for a good while. The beans are ready when you think they're ready. Keywords: Side, Easy, Beans, American ( RG2027 )

Great research and notes, Sam. Where'd you get the R&W, and how much was it?

Can someone more knowledgeable than I on the subject explain their critique of the Italian beef recipe? My issue hasn't yet arrived in the mailbox, I should add.

Thought I had orange so I started a Golden Dawn with Laird's apple brandy -- then realized I had only lemons. Thus the Maize Morning: 3/4 oz apple brandy (Laird's) 3/4 oz gin (Plymouth) 3/4 oz Cointreau 3/4 oz Apry 1/2 oz lemon juice Shake; strain. Dribble in grenadine. Peachy -- and peach-y, in fact.

Sam, my suggestion was grounded in the OP's comment about it being time-intensive -- and noodles that don't require a pinch take less time than those that do. Having said that, far be it for this goyim to suggest a different shape for kasha varnishkes!

What he says. Don't par-cook them; the texture goes to hell. I'd also suggest a less time-intensive pasta shape, while I'm at it.

Yup. It's more round, less sharp than white distilled. You can use cider, which is closer. This is just a guess, but I expect it'll keep in the fridge for a decade or two for sure and in the pantry for at least a few years.

Thanks for the corrections on PeM. Given my propensity to drinks bitter, that may be why this cocktail worked so well for my mouth.

I'll bite: My Creole Cocktail tonight was with Rittenhouse 100, Punt e Mes, Benedictine, and a pre-tinkering Amer Picon. Lemon peel on top, too. Not busy at all, I have to say. The Benedictine grabs the base in the rye to provide a good foundation, and the spiciness of the Punt e Mes mingles with the lemon oil. I think that the orange in the Amer Picon isn't too pronounced.

One would think that cast iron would hold up pretty well, all things considering. It's worth keeping in mind when salivating over that Staub set that costs about as much as a mortgage installment.

The Marconi Wireless popped up in two places tonight: first while snooping around drinkboston.com, a fine local cocktail blog, and then here in our own Dave the Cook's report from Tales of the Cocktail: Made it flipping between the Patriots and the Red Sox, using Laird's apple brandy and Punt e Mes, as well as both Fee's and Regan's orange bitters (one each). It's a swell little drink, particularly if you channel-cut an orange rind right over the glass to maximize the orange oil spray across the glass.

Over in the New York forum, Fat Guy has started a topic devoted to tracking what is and isn't available and/or happening at Fairway, the legendary grocer. (Click here for that topic.) Since I live in a much smaller city, it'd be a lonely project documenting, say, the changes at our wonderful East Side Marketplace. But I'm also a regular shopper at both of the Whole Foods markets in Providence, and I've gotten to know a bit about their selection and services. Their butcher is my go-to butcher -- they are the only place to get Niman and Coleman pork in town, for example -- and when farmers' markets aren't in operation, we buy most of our produce there. There are many topics in eG Forums that discuss other aspects of Whole Foods, such as CEO John Mackey's adventures on the internet, WF's foray into farmers' markets, and the Michael Pollan/Mackey exchange that resulted from Pollan's comments in Omnivore's Dilemma. This topic is devoted to what's on (or off) the shelves at Whole Foods, nationally and locally. Here's a start. At our WFs their 365 olive oils have been replaced with a few different ones. There's still a generic, which we've been using regularly, and there's also a snappier Spanish oil. No indication on the labels as to what olives are used, unfortunately. I'd also be interested to know how much flexibility butchers have to do special orders and the like at your local WF. I've brokered a few deals for Niman pork bellies and sausage casings, but it's extremely variable, even with the same butchers. On other days, asking for the rib eye on the bottom brings annoyed sighs.

Steven et al, on my last two trips to the UWS Fairway, I was delighted to find and then sadden not to find Saudi Arabian dates. There was even a Steve Jenkins blurb about them on a poster when first I saw them. They've been popping up now and then at my halal butcher and at our local middle eastern store, but their availability is shaky. Any sense of whether they're there these days?

Hey, Pille! I'm really looking forward to following your foodblog. I'll take your word on it! I do hope that you'll give us a few snaps of the interior of that supermarket. I'm also hoping we'll get to see a cloudberry or two, pre-jam!

I was snooping around Macy's while my daughter was ogling ear rings at Claire's and I spied this 5.5 quart dutch oven from none other than Martha Stewart. The construction seemed solid, and it was on sale for $49 ($39 with the $10 coupon the cashier gave me at checkout), so I grabbed it to replace my 5.5 quart Le Creuset dutch oven that finally kicked the bucket a few months back. I've used it twice now and it seems great to me. In addition to the details listed at the Macy's website -- the self-basting bumps, phenolic knob -- the oven has a smaller diameter and thus taller sides than the LC piece it replaced. I like that feature a lot, as the added depth is nice for deep frying or braising. And, hey, if it sucks after a few years, I can console myself with the thought that I saved a couple of benjamins on LC retail.

Well, it took a few months, but my habanero plant finally bore enough fruit to make a batch of ersatz Inner Beauty. Here's the recipe, which looks like this in the bottle with a few left-over chiles: I've not yet done a side-by-side, but they're pretty darned close. I'd love comments on the recipe, particularly from those who've had the elixir that is the subject of this topic.

Inner Beauty Hot Sauce Knock-Off This is a knock-off version of Chris Schlesinger's legendary Inner Beauty Hot Sauce, the last bottle of which is the subject of a topic here. This version is based on perusal of the ingredients list and on the recipe in Big Flavors Of The Hot Sun by Chris Schlesinger and John Willoughby. However, that recipe is uncooked, whereas this one is cooked. I've fiddled around with this pretty extensively and like the balance, which resembles closely, to my tongue, that of the original. You can do the same. For example, some of the ingredients that were on-hand in my house (the palm vinegar, say) might not be in yours, and those could easily be substituted. You also might want to add other ingredients -- pineapple juice, say, or ground cloves -- to tweak it. Make it yours. Inner Beauty is fantastic with fried chicken or fish, dashed into collards, and as a jerk-like marinade base with citrus (orange and lime work well) for just about anything. 15 habanero chiles 1 mango 1 c yellow mustard 1/2 c brown sugar 1/2 c white vinegar 1/2 c palm vinegar 1 T curry powder 1 T cumin 1 tsp cinnamon 1 tsp allspice 1 T ancho chile powder 3 T salt (or to taste) 1 T black pepper 1/4 c molasses Seed and devein the chiles with gloves on, and tear them into smallish bits. Peel the mango and slice it into chunks -- size and shape don't matter, since you'll be blending it. Add the rest of the ingredients in a sauce pan. Bring the mixture to simmer over medium heat, turn it down to low, and simmer it for an hour or two, stirring now and then. Add water to keep it from scorching. The sauce is done cooking when the mango and chile flesh easily disintegrate under light pressure from your spoon or spatula. Blend with an immersion blender (or, when cool, in a blender) until the sauce is smooth. Keywords: Easy, Condiment, Hot and Spicy, Sauce ( RG2025 )

How old were you when you started doing this, Malkavian?

Does anyone have any insight to share about the US breakfast phenomenon that nearly demands we all place sliced bananas on our breakfast cereal? I did the weekly shop yesterday, and there are now as many bananas in the cereal aisle as there are in the produce section. I'm hooked: unless it's berry season, I put a sliced banana on my All-Bran most mornings. I'd imagine it's part of some brilliant marketing campaign from the 1950s or 60s, but I'm just guessing. Anyone know?

This in from Charles (busboy): Though there are no statistics to back this up, I believe it's safe to say that no first post by a newbie Gulleteer has ever generated the response that adrober's (Adam Roberts) recounting of his visit to Charlie Trotter's did. The 350-post reaction spurred Adam to start a blog called The Amateur Gourmet, which caught an agent's eye and landed him a deal for the book, The Amateur Gourmet: How to Shop, Chop, and Table Hop Like a Pro (Almost). Congrats, Adam!

rooftop1000, I think you need to take a crack at the basil broth for the team.

Tried Gary Regan's ratios from Joy, which are basically those discussed immediately above: 2 oz gin (Plymouth) 1 oz sweet vermouth (Punt e Mes) 1/4 oz maraschino (Luxardo) 1 dash Angostura lemon twist Much better drink -- a fine one, in fact. I forgot the Angostura and had to add it in the glass, which balanced the drink in a way I didn't expect. Made it less bitter, oddly, in fact. Go figure.

Congrats! What's in that rabbit pie?