Carrot Top

Going by his previous skivviness on Boiling Point, it was briefs. Black or dark blue, I believe (!) (And the only reason I recall is because in the episode in which he was preparing for Marcus Waring's wedding, he kept shucking his "kit" as he changed - for the bachelor party, the wedding, etc. - and I thought, "Hmmm . . . does Gordo NOT care he's being taped? Or did he just forget?") Mind you, Boiling Point was shot nearly 10 years ago . . . (!) ← What?! A chef that is an exhibitionist?! No. . no. . .it can't be.

Using those parameters, then, "fusion" cuisine can only be said to be something existing today and not yesterday due to the ease and quickness of modern transportation. Modern transporation for the masses and modern banking for the masses make obtaining previously foreign ingredients as easy as lifting a telephone and pulling out a credit card. Kings (Queens too?) and rulers of countries used to send for foreign ingredients they desired, sending their envoys thousands of miles upon whatever means of transportation was available. They carried bags of gold perhaps, as payment, or enclosed letters with promises of other things as trade. The desire was there for the fusion, and the intent made real in form of taking the job on of going to get the foreign ingredients. It was slower, for transportation had not been industrialized. It was more class-sectioned, for obviously only the very wealthy could afford to do this - no "chef" would ever be able to realize this as an action they could personally take. So perhaps indeed, fusion cuisine as defined as or can be said to be pre-modern-day, and not simply passive. If one starts with an idea, one often ends right up back at the idea. Start with the idea of our industrialized world and the rest will be defined by it - leaving out important opportunities to see things in different lights. It's my feeling that there has been indeed a true and active, non-passive, "fusion cuisine" since time began. It may not fit our parameters of our time as the class structures were different, and it may not fit our time as it could not have happened so very quickly or actively due to differences in means of transportation. Maybe one might say there was a "pre-industrial" fusion and a "post-industrial". (As with so many other things. . .)

I remember a poem once by someone named Jensen, a poem about a bar. Fond memories. Carry on. . . Menus to write, things to cook!

Suzi. . .that's a fascinating concept. . .I like to look at that sort of idea. . . Domestic Goddess. . .your story put me in an unknown fairy-tale like place, and it was very beautiful. Thank you.

SB, Could you explain your idea further? We have people suggesting food items but no stories, food items as suggestions for food items already suggested for the letter, food items with stories, and then of course there is me who wants to follow my original plan in some small fashion. Who is supposed to be writing the menu, and when and how? Are they supposed to write recipes based on the ingredients posted? And when - at the end, or as the thread progresses? If there are alternate ingredients being suggested, who gets to choose the one used in the final menu if there is to be one? Are stories not supposed to be in this game, attached to the food? Do stories have any place in this thread? Does my idea of attaching food to ideas have any idea in this thread? I can't see how the "game" is getting "harder and harder", nor can I see that it is getting any less confusing, though I don't think it even had a chance to get confusing in the first place. . . KR (looking for direction here - where's your compass?) P.S. I think for myself, I'm going to leave it up to you to head the direction and decide the format. I'll do the M.F.K. Fisher idea somewhere else, another time.

Well. . .either I was whispering when I wrote the introduction above, or nobody wants to agree with the idea but rather to stick. firmly. to. food. items. only. Do. not. go. off. path. Hey. If the idea was good enough for M.F. K. Fisher to try, I figured maybe someone besides me would like to give it a shot. I only started with anchovies, a direct food item, because I didn't want to sound too too very snotty. Heh. I like your definition of jingoism, Michael. And I can even think of something to do that has to do with food and jingoism that is right on this very board at this very moment. Not a stretch. I didn't add a story of my own because I am not sure where the thread is going and don't intend to drive it any direction it doesn't want to go. Are we writing a menu here? How is that happening. . .when the foods are finally collected, someone makes recipes from them that then will form the menu? Are we following the alphabet and telling stories of foods as the letters go along? I dunno. Don't ask me. Guess we'll just wait and see.

But then of course if real numbers (based on whatever way they find these numbers heh) are wanted, one could always search The National Restaurant Association. This site is for the US. There is a similar thing for the UK.

Though actually, if that is too anecdotal for you ( ) you might find a definable resource in looking at what the "top" cooking schools are teaching in this area of operations planning. Higher education (what is taught in colleges and universities) is always directly linked to how things work in the real world, isn't it?

Probably both yes and no. The brigade system is used in professional kitchen operations of a certain size in most western countries and those operations in other countries that are affected by western-oriented business practices. It has become almost standard grammar, in a sense. One might wander off a bit (and there are examples of this happening more and more, "today"), but the formal idea still remains in mind almost as core basis of thought pattern in back-of-house operational setup for fine dining. (I should add that stations can be, and often are, eliminated or combined from the more formal form as needed, basing this decision upon the defined menu requirements of any individual operation.)

The only way to have documentation of actual evidence of "improvement" on the job after these corporate team-building activities are the surveys filled out by the participants. The surveys generally focus on "morale improvement", or "how do you feel now?" (a warm and fuzzy thing). Usually everybody feels "better" even if just because they got off of work to do something different. These (good) results can then be tied directly to job performance using whatever category one wants, if one wants. Usually there is some way to make a case for improved job performance. If there isn't any way (like, the company is losing money like crazy and the customers hate all the employees) to claim good results, then of course one can say that obviously more team-building experiences are required. Besides, the cooking team-building experiences are fantastic. Why? Because everyone gets to eat.

I've finished "Serve it Forth" and for my part, have decided that MFK's attractions to me at this moment are several. The first is the cadence, or the music of her prose. Not the specific prose itself (though that is lovely and moving at times and very very interesting at others to make an understatement). This cadence thing fascinates me, for I can not remember where else I've felt it this very strongly. One thing I *was* missing in her writing was a sort of layering (I am sure there is a better word for this but I do not know it. . .the best example I can think of in terms of this "layering" occured for me in Salman Rushdie's Satanic Verses) but the cadence makes up for it, in a different way, maybe. . . In most of the stories collected in "Serve it Forth" larger themes are being discussed than "just food". That, is something rather amazing in itself. She has the eye of a writer in seeing the stories that play out before her and the magic of a poet in noticing the intensely small then making it as large as it really is, in the mutable universe of the poet that sings in words of truths often not of man's making. The last chapter (so short! so perfect!) of the book made me very happy when reading it (and still, in thinking about it). Four sentences. A story told, a satisfying taste felt, and a question for the reader left in the mind, as the last page is closed.

I always want a story, Michael. What is life like without stories? ........................ I'm not really sure what the new plan is here. Are we just writing a menu, without attached stories to the food? It seems that the gathering of ingredients has begun, but I'm not quite sure what happens from there. I'm also not sure what ingredients are going to be used on the final menu (?) story/stories (?) as people keep wanting different stuff attached to the letters (eh. so what else is new ). All of the suggestions perhaps? As all are equally good offerings. Here. Being naturally perverse, I'll add my ingredient. "J" is for jingoism.

Sad. My fetishes have nothing to do with food. Oh well.

There's already been books written that have given way more insight than I ever could on the subject, Janet. Secret Ingredients - Race, Gender and Class at the Dinner Table is one of them, and of course another is Peg Brackens "I Hate to Cook Book".

Gee. I'm hoping I didn't make a mistake by my defense of fast food. Moreso, my defense of fast food as a feminist. F*ck yeah. (Just to continue the fff sound started). I hope I didn't make a mistake.

Can someone tell me in which nation soy milk was developed? And if they have it in New Zealand?

Nice quote you found, dear kiwi. I don't claim to have triumphs.* How about you? There's been a bit of name calling in your posts. Factual evidence has been presented that there are other things here in the US, and other ways of thinking about things. You might take a look at how you have spoken to and about people ("fast food feminist" - cute!) in your posts and see if you might wish to respond in some sort of defense if spoken to similarly. Oh. Cheers! *I do claim to have a certain experience, that directly applied to your post. I am from the United States and have not only lived, eaten, and cooked here my whole life (except for travel, of course!) but have worked within our restaurant food culture. Moot? P.S. Edited to add that I see you are posting, again. This time whatever you say will go in one of my ears and out the other. My horoscope warned there would be someone who wanted to argue around today. Must be you.

One day, yes, maybe one day. But then again, it took "some years" for Chinese food to be "discovered". Goodness. Where was it all that time before "we" found it?! Was it there? Did it exist?

That's funny. This "fast food feminist" is one who threw away her own mother's ardent feminism to marry twice, support one husband financially, then the other by cooking each day, fine meals for him to eat. This fast food feminist also was an executive chef at one of the top five investment banks on Wall Street, feeding the partners of said place. . . who knew French food, five star restaurants all over world, and expected what they ate with their guests to be of a rather "haute" order. Then this fast food feminist became a VP in the operations division of that place, and had the task assigned of feeding the 3000 employees as manager of the subcontractor. Did the employees get to eat "haute" or "slow" each day? Did they even want to? Was it financially or operationally feasible to try to do this? If it were done, would they appreciate and applaud it? I doubt it. Oh, plus, I'm not fat at all. Your reach and your grasp do not meet the extended size of your tongue. You are young, perhaps. Perhaps in time your reach and grasp will grow.

Well, then. Checking in here is War Correspondant Carrot Top. I'll attempt to set the scene for you as briefly as I can, for time is always short during wartime. One must always be on one's toes, ready for the next movement by the troops or the enemy (and sometimes they are difficult to tell apart). My specialty has always been trying to fix the world through food. A daunting task, but one that has its pleasures, and besides, M.F.K. Fisher hinted that it could be done. I had my first baby post-career years. We moved out of the city, my then-husband and I, to the boondocks of Rockland County. And then we moved again, and again. Each year we moved, the kitchen (besides the rest of the house) being dissassembled and reassembled by me, with Baby #1 in tow and Baby #2 who arrived 18 months after Baby #1. We moved so much not from neccesity (who would?) but due to then-husband's (let's call him TH for short?) need for "always something better" or alternately "always something wrong". Years later, I discovered that it was not the kitchens he managed that required something better or something different, but most likely the waitresses he was sleeping with upon their offers (as, through history apparently, there are always some waitresses who think sleeping with the boss is the Best Idea to try) who wanted something better or something different from him in return for their favors. So each year would bring a new home to put together (I can't live in disorder) and a new kitchen to get used to, new places to find that had decent food for sale. And it would bring a loss of the support system that had started to be built in the last place. But the war is not waged most intensely outside the walls of the home. It is, as you note, waged most intensely inside, where the Babies are who need to be fed and where the Mother is (and sometimes the Father, but one should not automatically assume this!) who needs to figure out how to do it and somehow keep her own health and sanity. TH was never home, but when he was (arriving at 2AM or so) he wanted a hot meal. Sort of like the Babies, you know. He grew surly if there were no hot, exciting meal that could be placed before him upon his arrival home. The war waged more deeply. Baby #1 was the sort that slept lightly and when awake, required high maintenance. She still is. Baby #2 was an explorer who liked to get around and get into things and make big lovely messes that only he can truly appreciate. He still is. What do you do? You do the best you can. And that is different, for different people. And nobody can (or should) put imprimateurs upon what will or should be eaten by you and your family during the war. Your boundaries of acceptance will need stretch, as they will need stretch as this amazing new person, Baby, becomes who they are and challenges many of your previous ways of life. When the day was a gentle one by mystery of chance, some shopping and cooking could be done. One might whip up something tasty, something beautiful, to find that Baby simply is not interested. That can be devastating. When it happens over and over again (and when you *know* you know how to cook, for you've actually been an executive chef) it can appear as if this war zone is more like something written in a science fiction book than any reality you can imagine. You might eat this beautiful thing yourself, but somehow the essence of taste would be clouded and not satisfying. Take-out food. Casseroles. GD it all, chicken nuggets when they get older. Farmer's markets are good for some (note, I say some, but not all) Babies for some do like the absolutely fresh - but they will not eat the same fruit or veg if it is from the grocery store. Palates more attuned, perhaps? Who knows. They can not tell us when young, except by simple and bold refusal or acceptance. Crockpots. Canned foods. Frozen foods. Those victorious warriors who have done without them are few. You do what you can, and sleep whenever you can, for enough sleep makes any food taste better. Life is different now, as this War Correspondant can attest, than it was without the Babies. But then you look at what you have, these Babies. And know that a gourmet meal will not, and can not, ever replace them. But mostly you have to have that revelation while the Baby sleeps.

Actually there's a lot of Thai recipes that do quite well in a hotpot/crockpot, if the idea of plain old "beef stew" or chili sounds too dreary. . . A rice cooker can be helpful, too. No clattering around, no need to focus in too much on timing.

Well then. Our menu is started. Anchovies, butter, and chocolate. Why do I want to say "ouch"? No butter story, SB? No chocolate story, Michael? C'mon, you guys. Reveal all.

I hate to say this, because in general there's something about the things that bother me, but perhaps the use of a hot-pot would help on some days? Start in the morning, just eat in the evening. Not the most elegant of dining, but almost anything that is in the house *can* be made into a meal without too much thinking ahead. There's also the idea (in the winter) that helps of a (cheap, don't get a really good one for they are nice and quiet ) humidifier in the baby's room that makes just enough noise to lull, with that "white noise" that will cover other delicately-made noises from the other room. . . I feel for you. I tiptoed for years. Still do, sometimes. (But it's worth it. )

Well, maybe at least the "cocktail"? Wikipedia places the party as started by a Brit.