Carrot Top

Why, both, of course, Toliver! And if they happen to be the same, that's okay too....

It has been said (not by me, no, not by me) that some men are good to have around the house for one thing only. That thing is.... Opening a recalcitrant..I mean stuck closed...jar. But what can one do if you don't happen to keep a man folded up ready in your silverware drawer for just this useful purpose? How many ways can eGulleters come up with for opening a jar? Tell us....

Sigh. Beautiful photos.... I haven't made tourte blette in years...but the recipe I used was perhaps Provencal. Will try to hunt it up tomorrow.

That's a tough one. How about a block party where everyone brings something they ended up having to use up quick? Good for the soul as well as for the practicalities.

He sounds like a good, hardworking individual that knows opportunity when it presents itself. I know many people who would not want to be caught in a hurricane without a paper bag of okra clutched in their hand. It is the only thing that can save us....isn't it, Mayhaw Man...

Do you add apples to your Tourte Blette? Would love to see your recipe...when there might be time to type it out....I don't think many cooks have made this, and it is unusual and good! (Besides being very healthy, too...)

Seriously, if you are talking specifically about taco trucks in DC...I wonder if it is the 'surprise quotient' that's engendering the sort of response you described. There are not that very many there, are there? (I could be wrong). So when someone does run across one, it's like finding a treasure. Sort of like the way kids feel about the (now-too-rare) ice cream trucks that used to come through the neighborhoods, ringing their bells...a happy seredipitous happening! This could be a good subject for an article or book of photos and interviews (of the truck owner/operators), really...'Taco Trucks of DC'...

chromedome's response to this is naturally the ideal one for chefs to think of doing! But one that is a privelege...that perhaps only independent chef/owners can make. Reputation is vital, and if one can do this and keep customers and maintain reputation, well! A nice thing, yes....yes, indeed-y! But many chefs do not have this option. I can think of two circumstances immediately, in particular. In catering or in personal cheff'ing or as a private chef, the client has placed an order that you as chef have agreed to comply to. In catering or personal cheff'ing, if you say "I won't do this"...it is likely that someone else will get the job. Lots of catering businesses can not afford to turn down almost any job that pays what they ask...competition is too great. As a Personal Chef, the same situation applies. Even moreso as a Private Chef, for then you are being paid to cater specifically to the client's desires. The largest chunk of time in my own career was spent working with the situation of feeding (initially as working chef then executive chef) then caring for (as in front-of-house management and finally overall operations) a group of extremely wealthy, powerful people that used their time over the dining table to do billion-dollar deals daily. The mission of the investment bank I worked for was to provide top-quality creative solutions in a heartbeat to their clients. Therefore it was my mission also. Anything that could or would make the guests happy was aimed for, within reason and sometimes without reason...for people do like to play power games. It takes a lot of getting used to providing this type of service. You run, you stretch yourself in ways emotional and intellectual, to make the experience of the guest not only 'good' but stellar and also personally warming in some way. Lest the thought come to mind that this is an exclusive situation and that therefore this way of doing things is only applicable to the money and power crowd, I find I must beg to disagree. There are two ways (at least) of looking at the act of putting food on the table for someone. Neither is right nor wrong in my opinion. The first is food-centered, kitchen-centered, chef-centered. The food stands above all, the chef's creative abilities, technical skills and talents stand above all...and anyone who doesn't like it can go elsewhere. The second is people-centered....it is about making the person dining, in any way possible, extremely pleased, happy, content, and cared for. It is a closely focused service that requires study and care of who is at table, and respect for that person's wishes no matter how they may vary from one's own ideas and tastes. This can be done at home even in the most reduced of circumstances as well as it can be done with a huge budget and staff. My personal philosophy is that food is a way of caring for people...a small bit of kindness, respect, or love that can be done on a daily basis...so my own way leans towards the second way. Sorry to go on so...I love this question and am deeply fascinated by the psychology and philosophies of everything surrounding the ways we eat and feed others. P.S. As I posted this I realized the subject had moved from specifically pastry to a more general discussion of cooking...it is true that many pastry chefs can not re-do whatever it is they have made without ruining it, even if they wanted to...so some of this discussion would not 'work' for their situations...

Your home looks like a veritable paradise of food...both 'on the vine' and 'in the pot'. Gorgeous photos, nice ideas. A joyous and prosperous New Year to you and yours, also.

You could use up a dozen quickly by separating, freezing the whites (in ice cube trays to keep them individual) then making zabaione with the yolks. If you substituted a slightly-watered down fruit-flavored syrup (not sure whether you have Japanese fruit syrups? but the Italian ones would do) rather than using Marsala, the children would probably like this too...

:laugh: It's gonna take me a while to think of an answer to your answer, Mr. Rocks. In the meanwhile, I will visit the California board as advised to more fully educate myself.

I don't know...I've never seen one....hmmmm. A taco truck? Do you have a picture? And tell us...why is this taco truck making you so angry, DonRocks?

Often in professional cooking one is faced with this 'problem', unless you've reached the point where everyone around you is pleased to eat exactly what you choose (i.e. celebrity chef type and not even then, really...). We all have food likes and dislikes and some very intense ones. You can taste it in your mind, if that way works well for you... But bottom-line, we have to rely on our audiences. They, are who we cook for...so as an aspiring writer must find a trusted 'reader' who can comment in a good objective caring manner...a chef must find a trusted taster! Shouldn't be too difficult, huh? Not to downplay the problem, for having the right mood or not in cooking certainly can affect the final taste of things in an unmeasureable way...

Mmm. Strange phrasing for what one would call 'journalism'...sort of a walk down the garden path, but to where? I looked in the local paper on-line to see if it was reported but got sidetracked by the larger story of the local Roadkill Festival. Anyone interested in attending? (Or should I go take photos....) Info at roanoke.com (the Roanoke Times).

Sorry....I promised myself I would not respond to anything on eGullet today (uh, yeah, once in a while I'm somewhat productive... ) (and besides that, the horoscope warns of arguments in the air! ) but this is precious. That sentence...'the workers say they don't know where it is'? (the special meat-eating room...) Huh? In a facility that holds three hundred employees (that is a building much smaller than the average elementary school) they can't find it if they look? Or, if they ask??? I can't even begin to say how silly this all is... The larger issue is silly, too...but has its salient points to discuss, obviously, in 'real life'....but....sigh. Back to work here....thanks for the laugh, GG (even if it was unintentional! )

It would be good to get Toliver and William Grimes in a room with a bottle of wine together....

Zabaione...either plain or laced with chocolate, served with fresh berries (raspberries, yum) and some quickly made sablees. There are some items that can be bought (of course it would be more fun to make them but I understand you can not cook off-site) like chocolate leaves or marzipan decorations that could add to the 'look' of the dessert. For a super duper 'what is that' touch you can obtain edible gold leaf from Indian markets.... Crepes are nice...you can fill them with almost anything and can flavor them with almost anything. Chocolate crepes rolled with apricot preserves, topped with whipped cream and slivered almonds...with a side of fresh cherries is both fancy and fairly quick.... Any sort of upside-down cake is another idea....basic, yes, but can be made to look 'fancier' with different plating ideas...

A nice change might be to blend cottage cheese with a generous amount of a variety of chopped herbs, a touch of lemon and a hint of garlic if you like it...add a touch of sour cream or cream cheese for a smoother texture.... this is nice on toasted whole grain breads... 'Egg Salad' of different seasonings can be good, too...plain, curried, herbed... Homemade 'Devilled Ham' could be done....finely chopped ham with pickle relish, mayo, etc.... Thinly sliced Black Forest Ham laid quickly over a light slather of chutney...yum. If you are ready for something heartier...check out the 'liverwurst' thread! Very nice ideas there.... Black bread with smoked salmon and cream cheese.... Lemon curd on a biscuit or a light brown bread... Getting hungry, gotta stop...

You are lucky to have the opportunity to travel, to drive and 'see what's there'...it is great fun and really interesting. I didn't mean to exclude any areas of the Southeast in my writings...when I spoke of 'Florida' it was in a very broad sense in that initial sentence...it was just 'the Florida most of us know'. When I think of both Florida and California...to most of the rest of the country, they are places that people from colder climates wish to escape to, or places that have lured people from other areas with the promise of jobs in various industries that are specific to those states. They are sort of 'Big Name' states in that sense. Masses of people have been drawn to relocate there for a variety of reasons. Florida...you've got Palm Beach for the winter socialites...the entire area surrounding it for retirees that want a warm comfortable climate that has resources geared their needs...Orlando for the family entertainment complexes and all that that involves.....Fort Lauderdale for the boating folk...the Keys for atmosphere and Key West for something like New Orleans style fun....the orange-growing areas for quiet sightseeing, the beaches everywhere.....the West Coast that so many corporations are drawn to for their conference/vacation capabilities...and a lot more that many visitors never see. (Almost forgot to mention Miami...!) And what is incredible is how recently Florida (and California) were actually cleared and settled...and the amount of creative effort that went in to making the native land of the areas comfortable and liveable and productive. I remember reading the story of the initial exploration of Florida, the masses of mosquitos, the density of forest/jungle, the neccesity of water in some areas...my goodness....what a lot has been done to that state, and is still being done, by mankind! Says a lot.

In agreement about the bastilla notion...but I also wonder if there could be a Medieval Scots recipe which would be similar.....

The thing about writing down recipes for someone is partially how serious the person asking for the recipe is. Lots of times it is just pleasant chat and a bit of fantasizing in the 'recipe-askers' mind. Certainly it is complimentary to the cook, but unless one has a written recipe (often I don't, unless it is for baked goods) and a copy-machine handy, there is the element of finding time to write out the recipe and get it to the person. My solution to this has been, if someone asks for a (non-baked goods) recipe, to say "Do you have a piece of paper and a pencil? I'll do my best to tell you right now...". Often, in the face of having to pick up a pencil themselves, they get lost on the way to find it in some other conversation.... With a recipe that does require exact measurements, generally I will lead the conversation to what sorts of things they have baked previously to assess their level of dedication and competence. If it then sounds like the recipe is 'do-able' for them, I'll tell them to e-mail me. That makes it easier to remember to find the recipe then to type it out and send it along.

What I Ate This Summer: A Fish Tale - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Ever been up close and personal, nose to nose and mano a mano with an Octopus the size of your leg? It could happen that you might catch one by mistake, fishing off a pier on a hot summer's night in the Florida Keys, as you sit placidly waiting for a bite, whiling away the quiet time near the bright spotlight aimed at the water, dreaming of all the tantalizing recipes you will make with the catch, half-dozing in the simmering humidity. A heavy pull of the fishing line gives a pleasant shock, making a startling call to action, to reel the line in gently, up and out of the dark waters. You stare with avid amazement at the first view of the catch. . .this strange gleaming creature dripping from the end of the pole, slowly undulating while merrily waving its eight long elegant tentacles in primordial dance. . .a secret, shimmering, yet impotent Medusa of the Sea. It must be freed from the hook in order to drop it into the fishing net (while grimacing in disgust but also fantasizing the delicious 'Insalata di Pulpo' that might be for lunch tomorrow). In the blink of an eye the second surprise happens. The creature does not stay in the net. It wiggles itself muscularly then slithers away in artful escape, oozing in a sudden fluid transmutation of shape right out through the now-straining wet turquoise string net. Fat tentacles slide up over the side of the bucket that's been quickly kicked under the net by your sneakered foot in a flailing sideways lunge. The oyster-colored plasticine tentacles stretch and pull at the dense pulsating heft of the eyeless body to lift it up, out, and over the top edge of the battered yellow bucket. The monster is running away down the sticky concrete floor of the pier. It must be captured, and quickly. Fishing with the intent of eating the catch can be brutal. The only way to stop this prey is to pin it down firmly, stopping it smartly in its tracks with the sharp curved tip of a slighty rusty old steel fishing knife. But as you move with measured patience in a feeble attempt to do this act with some sort of dignity (so as not to take on the grim appearance of a maddened butcher to any passers-by), the transparent rapidly travelling ghost escapes, skimming away with all the grace of a three-pound batch of old Silly Putty. The next attempt fares better though, and this time as you pin it down you pull upwards with the handle of the knife to carry away your prize. But it won't come. It won't budge. Those little suckers on the underside of its tentacles have a grip worthy of a Sumo wrestler. In truth, the Octopus is beginning to resemble a Sumo wrestler to your eyes. Diapered bottom stuck way up in the air, round hefty and strong, with all those extra arms and legs thrusting vigorously away with practiced skill. "Whack!" goes the large gleaming knife. The thing must be chopped up anyway, before poaching it in wine, herbs, and broth to make a fine dish. . .so why not chop it up now? Unfortunately, that particular ploy did not help a lot, for now all the tentacles are walking off by themselves in eight different directions, rapidly humping along the darkened crusty dock in a half-hearted parody of a bunch of drunken sailors. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - After a bit of running around, all the parts have been collected, pried up off the dock and tossed haphazardly into the bucket. Now it is time to get down to some real fishing. No more of this nonsense. Having come out with the idea of gathering a mess of dainty, lady-like, tasty little red snappers to dangle grinning from your line, the night has just begun. Again, you cast off, impressed with the whizzing perfection of line as it extends gracefully and athletically out over the torpid sea. With a satisfying and gently noisome 'plunk', the hook re-enters the waters. It is time, now, to sit pensively and watch for the slightest wavelets of movement. Peace and equanimity rule the earth. The bobbin is flopping about! It must be a big one! Drop that beer and grab the pole! Gently, gently now, pull 'er in. Up close, it looks like it must be that red snapper! But wait. Look closer. This is no red snapper. The shape is the same but the color is wrong. And isn't there something odd about its eyes? Moving your face close in the dank seawater-scented twilight, you try to remove the hook from the edge of the hungry beast's gullet. As you twist it sideways, a frighteningly loud noise emerges from the fish's belly. "Graaaak! Grooooook!" The ugly vermin is making an appealing, loud scratchy noise at you! Who ever heard of a fish that could talk! Your fingers edge closer to the hook to try to pull it out. OUCH! Damn! Huge, beaver-like teeth have emerged from this smarmy pipsqueak's mouth and the nasty little thing has bitten almost through your finger. Memories of books read long ago on piscine matters waft into your addled brain as you watch the scarlet blood spatter from your finger onto the dock, where you have hurriedly flung the squiggling fish. It is a Grunt. Yes, a Grunt. A charming inhabitant of southern seas, this creature grunts loudly when threatened (with a voice that sounds very much like an unhappy squealing pig). It is also capable of biting in attack with sharp little incisors. Besides that, it is also the main ingredient for the famous dish (eaten with much vengeful gusto by the fisherman) 'Grits and Grunts'. He'll do okay for this dish. Add him to the bucket. The night is taking on a Dali-esque attitude. There is a strange vertginous dizziness in the air. This could be blamed on either the amount of beers consumed or the amount of blood lost from the Grunt Attack. But there has to be more to a night of fishing under the stars on a glorious hot summer night than this, this collection of mishaps. The line is cast out, again and again. I am sad to say what happened next. There is a fish called a Lizard-Fish. This is the fish that bit next. Sticking strictly to facts, I must tell you that a Lizard-Fish resembles nothing so much as an escaped overly-made-up drag queen from 'The Rocky Horror Picture Show'. Not even seagulls come near a Lizard-Fish so it is tossed back into the inky depths to spawn (though one vaguely wonders, with a mild supercilious sneer as it plops flatly back into the sea, how its own mate could tolerate that thorny visage for even long enough to do the Fish Thing). The sky is lightening to orange and a bit of light breeze wraps round your goo-spattered iodine-scented upper arms. Sleep would be welcome. . .so after just one more hit, this adventure must come to an end. The hit comes quickly. These gluttons are busy at night, eager to taste the bloodworm bait, the chum of the Lizard-Fish, and the bits of your Grunt-bitten index finger. Nice, nice! You can feel the weight pull against you as you reel him cautiously in. He's not a fighter, no, so it won't be a common Barracuda which are so prevalent here. Ahhhh. The fish is white. The fish is large. Closer now, closer, heavens to betsy! (or some similar exclamation has escaped your mouth which itself is now looking rather fish-like) it is a Skate. Two dime-store plastic troll eyes fight to bump into each other while they stare crossly up with futile bitterness. Thin sail-like side wings flutter and flap noisily, and a wickedly devilish tail whips its sword-shaped tip against the wet, Octopus-slathered dock. "Raie au Beurre Noire, Raie au Beurre Noire" you murmur consolingly to to yourself as you pack up the evening's gains and trudge home tiredly to a hot shower and hopefully a long, deep, nightmare-free sleep. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The next morning all the fish must be pulled out from the balled-up plastic bag in the refrigerator (that now has a permanent smell of black fish livers), to be cleaned and prepared for some gourmet cooking. Briefly, Octopus is cleaned like Squid, and can be used in similar recipes. If it is large, it should be gently braised first till tender. Grunts can be cleaned like Porgies, like Bluegill, like any other small regular sort of fish, but watch out for those rodent-like teeth. If the Lizard-Fish had not been tossed back, he would be good for nothing but a stock. Boiled till disintegration is a fine ending for any Lizard- Fish. Cleaning a Skate is something like cleaning a Flounder but the Skate is both bonier with many more small sharp scales. They give a stuggle before yielding those wings. And now to the Grand Finale: preparing the recipes. Remember all those lovely exotic tastes, flavors, ideas that ran free in rampant imaginings as you tossed these prizes of the deep into the bucket to carry home? Which recipe should be started first? On second thought. . .forget about it. Just make Boulliabaisse. Then go for a pleasant cooling afternoon swim, after firmly snapping shut the shutters of your mind, closing off all thoughts of exactly what sorts of friendly sea-creatures might be swimming right alongside you in this glittering salty grey-green cauldron of sea.

Now here's a coincidence. Here you have two northerners reading of Southern/Soul Cooking on eGullet. And guess what...my mom's family is from yep, Waterville ME too. Her grandfather carved the words that say 'PVBLIC LIBRARY' on the library downtown. Haven't been to Waterville lately but for quick summer trips and then, I definitely did not think to explore the restaurant options! Lobster, you know...strawberry shortcake....veggies from the garden and berries from the woods down at the cabin on the lake.... Soul Food? Soul Food? Waterville, ME? Jeez, I really must pinch myself to see if I am dreaming. I still remember my mother's stories about the first PIZZA parlor that came to Waterville, ME and the exotica of it all!

Yes, Dignan, I see what you are talking about...in many places. But some particular areas do not make it easy at all for businesses to move in and prosper...the laws are written to make it difficult and the people in these particular areas keep on voting against any sort of change. They don't care for the idea of economic development. The place I spoke of was in West Virginia. Lots of small towns like that in West Virginia. And I do have the belief that they will remain as they are for some time well into the future...

In a professional kitchen (surprise) never. Never would drink. I guess that attitude came from seeing too many who did, and who made fools of themselves more than once. (Plus, it is my feeling that one should not be inebriated or even tipsy when handling heavy possibly dangerous equipment. Very bad things can happen.) Home cooking? Of course. Part of cooking is the pleasure of the colors, the tastes, the aromas, the textures, the combinations, the inspirations and hopefully the company! Generally by the time a real (i.e. not produced mostly for the children) meal is on the table, I have had enough wine and! enough tastings of the food while cooking so that really, I am not hungry or thirsty anymore, and can simply enjoy the enjoyment of my guests. A lovely thing, a good wine. As for changing the style of the cooking...no...wine or not, it is what is in front of me that forms the meal. No 'recipes' used here. But the music of the meal does become louder with a bit of the grape in attendance...