Carrot Top

Hey, yeah. Or the same with being a chef.

The Greenbrier Hotel does (or did, last I heard). Seasonal, of course, as West Virginia is not a year-round growing climate for lots of stuff. The formalized specs that were developed as part of the contractural agreement between vendor and hotel were not easy for the smaller-size local farmers to meet - I know several who simply gave up on the idea after trying it for several years. They went back to selling by the roadside from truckbeds.

Oh, I agree. She should do what she believes is right. Particularly where morality comes into play. My question is, how do I get to be this guy below, if I have a terrible and unyielding urge for bottled water on a visit to Chez Panisse?

Simply put, bottled water has been "86'd" from the Chez Panisse menu. Except for cases like this: Interesting.

I can also think of people I've met who have been brought up in the most excellent way you describe above, Maggie - people who can exhibit beautiful manners at table, who were taught all these things as children - yet who somehow turned out to absolutely psychopathic horrors in other parts of their lives. And I can also think of the children I knew in a rather poverty-stricken rural area I lived in. They will not be dining at restaurants as children. Likely they will be sitting in front of televisions while they eat, often. Yet these children can and do grow up to move other places, to learn how to dine at fancy tables, and even if they don't they can grow up to be the sort of person one says is the "salt of the earth". .................................... Our culture is not particularly child-friendly. As others have mentioned above, some of the most effective ways of making children comfortable in restaurants is shown in restaurants run and staffed by those from other cultures. ..................................... I prefer the concept of compassion rather than the concept of self-righteousness when I see a child misbehaving in a restaurant. Life goes on, and this, too, will change, and another chance to dine more pleasantly will arrive soon enough.

I remember reading Clementine Paddleford in old Gourmet magazines. What a name! Who could dare say nay to a woman with a name like that? In my own experience, the most common Thanksgiving pies are pumpkin, apple, and pecan. They are sometimes added to (at the dessert table) by various cakes or cookies. It's not just pie, anymore, baby. Our Thanksgiving traditions have altered, I believe, including the pie part, since Clementine wrote that. You might find more information about our status of current and past pie-dom from one of the food history groups such as The Culinary Historians of New York or maybe even additional information about sorts of pies and amounts of each type sold/served currently at Thanksgiving at the site of an industry journal such as Restaurants and Institutions. As far as photos go, there are some gorgeous ones to be found of all varieties if you surf the food sections of stock photo sites, of course. It *would* be nice to get a real, home-made one, though, wouldn't it.

This may be the ideal, Maggie. It's not the norm in a lot of our society today. What I read (because I know you a bit) that you are writing is a caring imperative to love your children as best you can (sometimes better than you can), to take the time, to do the "right" things in terms of raising them (and most particularly in this area of dining). Nonetheless, different people have different levels of skills and desires in the world, and not all will want to be this way or *can* even be this way. To paraphrase an old saw, "Not everyone can dance to the beat of the same drummer." Yet somehow there are families and children that make it through life to learn how to dine and how to love, and how to show manners and care towards food and towards the world and each other, without having experienced the sort of situation you describe above. My own mother (a single mother, never married) could barely find enough within herself to keep a roof over my head and a simple meal at suppertime. There was not joy, there was not discussion, there was not offerings of interest or love. She did, however, gain what she finally wanted which was a Ph.D. in Special Education. She did, also, however, give me up by offering me to foster care when I was turning fourteen years old (whereupon I ran away to The Big City and raised myself)(and am still raising myself, probably. ). I turned out able to know how to dine (because I taught myself) and able to be an executive chef in a place where the care and quality shown in the food placed in front of the diners (and knowledge of highly finessed etiquette of many varieties at the dining table) was massively paramount. How do I know I succeeded? Because I have a collection of letters from heads of state, top dogs of business, and just plain folk, that tells me so. My mother could not do what you describe. It was not within her. Plus, she had nobody to help her, as is the ideal. Two parents on the scene raising children are a barricade against difficulties or an enclosure of support for each other in raising children that the single parent simply does not have. I don't resent my mother for not being able to do what you describe. I feel very sad that somehow, the strength, the ability, the support system was not there either within her or outside her. Yet, I learned. And I somehow learned or somehow know how to love my own children in a different way, a stronger way, than she was able to, me. But I won't meet your goals as stated above, probably. "That's why I am the parent," is right, yes. My way of being a parent does not include all of the specifics you detail above. It just doesn't. And yet, somehow, I feel that my children will grow up okay, knowing how to dine and how to love - how to live in a way that works for them as we all must, with the differing strengths, support systems (or lack of support systems) that we each have. One pattern does not fit all. Perfect as that pattern might sound.

Is snainiya similar to samanak, Elie? (And congrats on cute little tooth. )

As a single parent with two children (that's two against one on the manipulation scale )(and sometimes one against the other as siblings close in age, too ) who dines out fairly often, I learned a long time ago that if trouble is brewing the best thing to do is to ask to have the food packed up "to go". Quickly packed up to go at certain times, particularly when the day has been long and the sugar levels low. I take the kids out to the car while handing my credit card to the host while saying "Be right back." This does not happen often, but it does happen. One of my children has a high sensitivity to noise and crowds, and many restaurants seem to try to develop the sense of both these things in their atmosphere. Personally in my situation (i.e. solo) I would not risk taking the children to a haute level sort of place, feeling the potential challenge not worth the eagle-eye soldierly rigor of demeanor I'd have to develop in order to sally forth into it. I am sure they will learn to dine well at the "hautest" of spots, as I have learned myself, without being taught as children, but as part of being young adults on their own. Plus then they can pay for it themselves.

Interesting, very. For if the way we see our realities is shaped (as experts claim) not only by the factual reality itself but by what we *think* the reality is, a higher knowledge level can only enrich an experience. A surface level directive of "you can use a cheaper wine" without any more or less knowledge will leave that subtle perceptive sense upon the taste of the food, the feel of the food perhaps, to the one who made it and who knows - by extension to the ones who eat it? It's not just about romance, in other words, it's about developing a knowledge that enrichens each experience. It's not just about knowing the "facts" it's about taking the time to be exposed to the wisdom. It's not about buying because it's cheap enough - it's about buying and using because it is something that makes your mind or heart happy in some way as well as your pocketbook. Beautifully said, Marc. .................................................... I hasten to add that I thought the article excellent and yes, myth-exploding. I've generally cooked with wine the way the article advises. But here in Marc's post, is even more (at least for me) to muse on.

I almost wish this thread had not been revived. You know what's really good? Warm Spinach Salad with Chicken Cracklings. Sigh.

I would guess the right word would be "roasted". You should feel no guilt, about scarfing the skin or about not being able to remember the past tense of a word. Sometimes I forget my kids names and call them "Drewtin" or "Kr-Drew" rather than Kristen and Drew. It's better than it was, though. I used to holler out the dog's name when I meant to holler out their names. I wonder if a lack of roast chicken skin can cause memory loss. If so, I'd better go get some, *now*. So he/she is giving away chicken neck skin and fat? For free? Wow. I'm tellin' ya, Oregon is the place to be.

All of those are good recipes, and I would like each one once in a while, too. Somehow, though, these children that used to eat everything in childhood have become more particular in early teenager-hood and seem to be having a phase where they only eat certain favorite foods and chicken, any way at all (except for the skin) is just not a favorite. Believe me, I've tried. But I've read that phases in this change as children grow as do so many other things. So I wait, and figure that if this is the worst thing that happens, we're all lucky. Meanwhile, it is truly a shame that I can't send all that extra roast chicken meat through the computer screen to you, Ruth. P.S. Speaking of chicken skin, I wish there were a live poultry market near me. I've seen grown adults literally almost start to slaver and drool, with their eyes opening wider and becoming somewhat glazed with desire, after a bite of the roasted skin from a fresh, never-frozen, non-battery bird.

A beautiful photo, Hiroyuki. Happy Spring! (Is there a saying for that in Japanese, I wonder?) I won't ask which of the nimonos you preferred, to preserve family harmony. They both look delicious, and healthy, too!

Ah. I hope everyone knows by now that once in a blue moon I exaggerate the situation for effect. Nevertheless, I could cook six birds and still not have enough crispy delightful chicken skin for this family, though, and really we're not nuts about chicken in general, preferring beef, seafood, or pasta, "with" whatever. Have you had a Cornish game hen recently, Kougin Aman? I can't compare their skins to a chicken's, though the meat is tastier in general for a battery-bred bird. To me, the skin is so much thinner and lighter, delicate . . . it just doesn't give me the rush a good crispy chicken skin does.

I'm waiting for them to develop a chicken that's more skin than meat, Ruth.

I used to do that when I was a secret agent. Every time I got captured by the other side, I'd eat my secret notes with happy lip-licking noises, then stick out my tongue and grin at them, valiant and true. Now, I am engaged in the War of the Chicken Skins. The roast chicken leaves the oven and at that exact moment the hordes descend upon me. They are two in size, yet they are awesome in determination. The noise level alone could leave a woman senseless. Each one wants the chicken skin, for him or herself only. Precise drawing of a map upon the crisp skin of boundary lines (dark soy sauce on the tip of a wooden skewer is my way, though there may be others), followed by gentle disbursement of the skin itself (no time for fanciness here, for we are at war) is the only answer, but it is not a good one. There is never enough skin to go around, and one knows that war will yet again erupt the next time that aroma emerges from the kitchen.

This could end up either great or dreadful but the thought came of the taste a red wine toddy has, which can be similar to prune juice in some way. Here's what I'd try: prune juice warmed (mulled) with lemon peel (or maybe orange would be better with prune?) and good cinnamon. A tad or sugar or not, depending on the balance. Served in a small portion in a demitasse cup with maybe a small square of dark chocolate on the side (I'd guess that the chocolate taste would blend well and minimize the "pruniness" besides adding a touch of elegance that prune juice normally does not hold). Well, really. Add a dram of good brandy to this and it would go down quite easy.

I think at this point some editors should post who are willing to work for food. (As in, "The world of food blogging eagerly awaits your services" )

Here's some blogs I'd like to see - different disciplines viewed through the lens of, of linked to, food . . .food in literature (as written by someone who reads a lot, who knows a lot about both food and critical reading); food in art (written by someone who knows art history, who also knows food); the same for architecture, the same for any number of subjects. Food in cars, anyone? I'd like to see more than recipes, restaurants, and food porn, in other words.

I guess that the idea of a *daily* blog is where this danger lies, Sandy. Thank goodness there is no law that says one has to add to a blog, daily, though. It's a way of ensuring audience involvement, yes - but as noted before many people don't think of their blogs within a specific business model that would require that, for whatever reason it would be required for. A blog can be whatever one wants it to be, really. We don't need to draw a box around it, I hope.

You definitely need to meet andisenji. She probably has many ideas for things you can add.

Why do you not return to them, Sam? What is it that keeps your finger from making that click of destiny?

Happy Spring! Today starts the approach to the Vernal Equinox, where day and night are balanced. This pleases me, as a Libra. There are foods, beyond the upcoming Easter foods, that celebrate this day, in various cultures. Afghan Cooking............................................................... The Old Ways................................................................................ Traditions, Romania.................................................................................. Higan............................................................................. Sham al-Naseem............................................................................ Many good and delicious ways to welcome the season.

Your "appeal rating" ranks much much higher, at least in my book, than Martha's does, mizducky. Congrats on the new regime. That soup looked astonishingly rich-tasting.