Carrot Top

One person who *did* try, who posted on this thread, just signed a book contract. I wanted to share the news that Janet (The Old Foodie) has signed a contract for a book on pies - pies in both historic and cultural context, with illustrations and recipes. She noted that her blog turned out to be a good way for the publisher to view her work. Yaaaay, Janet! I look forward to reading it!

Thanks for all the ideas you all added to this thread. I'd never heard of the rye-based sauces in particular, so that was very interesting!

I've heard tell of a still waaaaay back in the woods. A guy I know has kin who knows a guy who knows a guy. Not organic, now. They don't mess with that all. Free-range for sure, though, honey. I'll nose around there a bit next time I get taken snipe-huntin', and will let you know what I find.

Mindless Eating - Why We Eat More Than We Think

One of the problems (or, heh, "challenges") in chicken farming is, when you start getting lots of chickens, gathering them when they are due to be gathered. Chickens do not like to be gathered for slaughter. Understandably. In large-scale operations, if you read chicken farming magazines (don't ask ) they are always trying to come up with better methods for this. This is one reason for keeping chickens in cages. If they *are* actually free-range, running around loose, they must be captured. Right now there is a big vaccuum machine that does this job. You scoot around with this huge tractor-like thing, sucking chickens into the vaccuum extension. Not kind, to the birds. Some are mangled. But it is an easier way of management than to have ten or twenty guys running around in circles trying to catch their bird all day long. There is an in-between method that is being advised for those who wish to have the chickens outside, actually being "free-range" while still maintaining a better control while avoiding the vaccuuming scenario. You build spacious chicken coops in a pyramid shape from 2 by 4's, cover them with wire, fill them with your chickens, then hook up the coops to your tractor and drag them out to the field each day. The bottoms of the coops are mostly wire, so the birds can peck up insects and greens from the field. Then you haul them back in to the barn at night. It's advised that the cages be taken to a different spot in your field each day to assure variety in the bird's diet. Of all the methods I've heard of in larger-scale chicken production for meat, this seems the most fair to the birds, keeping quality high in terms of being "free-range", while keeping the human owners from running around themselves like uh. . ."chickens with their heads cut off" while attempting, de facto, to do exactly that to the birds.

Limerick to Celebrate the Past Full Moon Yesterday ................................................ There once was a wan girl named Hannah Who ate only seeds and bananas But one day on a hike She found something she liked It made her experience nirvana. For she'd met a fey guy named Lars Who spent lots of time in sports bars He gave her foie gras She said "Ooh la la!" then screamed "Ah! Me gusta bailar!" Entonces they ate many things Pigeons en croute and hot wings Those hot dogs with fixins' She ate with conviction And sometimes she started to sing. There once was a wan girl named Hannah Who'd discarded her only bandana Now she ate escargots And wriggled her toes As she waved her "so-long's!" to Montana.

Strangely enough, I can think of things that are more rewarding to do, personally, than spend my time on earth (needlessly) limiting my food sources to a hundred-mile radius, maintaining a garden and a wheat field, and canning/drying/preserving whatever foods come from this. Karen (not barefoot, pregnant, or always in the kitchen or fields)

I agree with you, Sandy, particularly in the area that I placed in bold letter above. What bothers me most is the sense of evangelism that is attached to the locavore movement. Secondarily, the holes in the theory then bother me.

If the ultimate goal here is to save on resources (i.e. gas and oil) within the scope of what and how we eat, perhaps those who use the cars that clog the highways, and the planes that swim through the air, on major holidays, should just eat at home on holidays. That would save a lot of resources. Actually, maybe people should live in the same neighborhoods if they want to dine with each other. No further away than one could walk or ride a bike. Same thing for work, of course. As we must eat during the day we really should always live near enough to where we work to not waste resources. I say let the food travel and keep the people off the roads. Heh. Yes. I'd like to see those numbers.

Particularly interesting as when "we" think of doing it, it's all from apparently a good place within ourselves, but when "others" do the same in any formal way it's called "zenophobia".

Myself, I only deal in intuitive appeal, Shalmanese, never with *facts*, for *facts*, factually, are much more contradictory when well-explored and fully gathered than anything intuitive. And I think that *most* people deal in intuitive appeal, then gather the facts they wish to support whatever it is their intuition points to. But what appeals to me intuitively, is that a global economy, with its shipping and sharing of foods and cultures is a good thing. Gloom and doom is always with us, of course, it has travelled hand-in-hand as companion with every step of creative congress humanity has ever taken. If someone wants to eat locally, and find reasons for it, no reason for them not to. I'll continue to eat globally. I do wonder how well eating locally goes over in areas where there is poor soil and little water, histories of ongoing war and social disruption. Most of those, of course, are not here in our country, but the challenge to "eat locally" certainly seems to be a bit difficult sometimes, even moreso than if I had to eat turnips and dried beef through the winter, here.

Okay. I admit that the whole story sounded so. . . well. . .just slightly "off" that I didn't take it entirely seriously in some way. Didn't read the link till this morning. Though I was serious about the truite au blue. Wonder if a live fish would even stay alive in an aquarium in space. I guess, all in all, this is very nice in ways for the astronauts. Better than eating those little packets of "space-food" that I've seen in the Discovery Store, anyway, which seem like colored bits of cardboard and mashed cotton. But most of all I can imagine Alain, sitting at a table with a bunch of the guys, comparing new locations. "I opened in Las Vegas!" murmurs one. "Eh. Moi, I opened in Tokyo!" another guy smiles, pushing his chair onto its back legs while tossing down a Calvados. "Ah." Alain says, eyebrows raising ever-so-slightly, "But I, I have opened in Outer Space." Heh. Top that, buddy. Plus, it's the sort of thing to make any Mom proud.

I need to know these things, Melissa, just in case I ever get lost in the woods with only my little Swiss Army knife and a lichen pot to cook in. Purple. . .nice. . .the "royal" color, no? Found some more lichen recipes to add to my file: from Bannock Awareness, Printed in Celebration of National Aboriginal Dayand from Healthy IngredientsAlso found lichen in a packet of Indian tikka masala sauce on this site so if I decide to stay in the woods and do a start-up company based on lichen-cious goods, the path has already been paved. Undoubtedly backers would flock in droves to invest in this.

Carrot Top, You gotta let me quote you. This is a great line. I have to add it to my book. David ← Of course you can, David. Take it away with my pleasure and even a kiss or two. (The more important question is, what book are you writing? And does it have Portugese pastries in it? Enquiring minds need to know! )

Ah, oui. Does Alain serve milt sauce with any of his dishes I wonder? ............................................ More importantly, I wonder what it would be like to try to make "truite au bleu" on a spaceship in orbit. P.S. Edit. Reminder. Always view recent photos before requesting special sauces.

We are speaking haute here, so likely the spelling of that would be "Fart Arte", don't you think? Yes, list later on the menu. With specification as to region of origin perhaps? One wonders about corkage fees, too.

Every salt pig in the world comes with its own band of hidden elves. They live under the cover and are invisible, of course, as all good elves are. At night, they come out and slide grains of rice (where do they get the grains of rice? Why they just do a little rice dance, of course, and a little pile appears in the circle before them!) into the salt pig. The pig is happy, for he likes rice. The salt is happy, for it gets to dry out a bit, shedding all that dampness into the rice. The rice is happy because it is all dried out and needs a bit of softening. When morning comes, at the break of dawn, the rice disappears, the elves go back to their hiding places, and the salt is just salt, looking for all the world like a regular thing. I'm surprised nobody else knew this.

Alternately, of course, it might have been a typo, the original being a "Bretonne Farro Tarte."

The recipe I have for a Bretonne Far Tart specifies that first you must have a woman in Bretonne make you a tart. Then you hop onto a spaceship and go into outer space to think about it, about how very far away it is and how you will not be able to have a single bite of it. (Cuisine minceur at its most exteme. Excellent way to save on calorie intake.) There is another, less used recipe. Have the woman make the tart, then go into outer space and think of her instead. She, then, is the Bretonne Far Tart.

You reminded me of something else we used to do. . .Christmas Eve day, we'd watch The Tailor of Gloucester by Beatrix Potter from this video set. It is the story of how on Christmas Eve, the animals can talk. . .and the adventures of the tailor's cat. Some lively mice, a rat or two I believe, and a wander through a cobblestoned town at midnight by the cat - and of course, how the mice sew a fancy vest that is due for the Mayor's wedding overnight for the tailor who has become too ill to do so. "Twist! Twist! We haven't any twist!" the tailor cries to his cat and the cat mews back, before the tailor falls into bed ill, for he is poor and has run out of thread. His cat secures him some, and carries it home, placing it under an upturned teacup for him to find in the morning. Oh yes. Quite forgot the food part. There is a large party where the mice eat many good things and the cat tries to eat the mice but fails.

I just ran across a recipe for Icelandic Lichen Bread: Lichen Bread There is also a recipe there for Icelandic Lichen Milk Soup. Anyone out there with more lichen recipes to share?

Two words, put together, that cause a multitude of sadness and problems.

We always make food for Santa's reindeer. Because Santa of course gets cookies and milk everywhere, but his reindeer must be hungry too. Oatmeal, cornmeal, sesame seeds, a bit of brown sugar, and gold glitter so that the reindeer can see it in the dark. Toss all together, put in little bags, and each child tosses their handful onto the ground outside, on Christmas Eve. Strangely enough, usually by morning it is gone. The wind perhaps, a handy broom, or even maybe Santa's reindeer. And the children are happy to see that the reindeer had a good warming snack to keep them strong and proud on their important journey through the night skies.

While I prefer careful and considerate gift-giving in general for all other things in life for weddings I think I prefer the tradition of many large Italian-American families. Large. Bulging. Envelopes. Of Cash. Handed. To The Happy Couple. As The Guests Leave. With A Big Hug And Kiss. Sigh. I am a practical woman.

I try to teach them that if something is "not right" - i.e. the price or packaging or quality seems "off", or if a service is done in a haphazard or inappropriate way - that you really don't have to just walk away feeling bad or feeling as if you "have to put up with it because that's the way it is." Because if one puts up with poor service or poor performance or poor quality in their daily life, that is exactly what they will get more and more and more of - things being the way they are in the struggle for everyone to get through the day, with the usual cast of characters all of whom do not all have love for each other in their hearts. This can translate into: Returning a sandwich if it is made incorrectly (happens as often as it doesn't, at fast-food places) Taking produce that is not fresh yet right there for sale in the nicer grocery stores directly to the produce manager and saying "What's going on here?" (All done with smiles, of course, but definitely without hugs.) Talking to the manager in the meat department if they do not seem to ever have the cut you want to get. Asking if they could carry some different products, and name them specifically, telling all about how wonderful they are. Check the grocery receipts. There was a thead on this one, started by Gifted Gourmet, some time ago. Lots of mistakes often to be found. Find and frequent the places or environments where things *do* work right and give them your business rather than places where there seem to be ongoing problems. Thank people when things do go right and let them know you appreciate the attention they give to making the world (really, through small everyday things) a better place to be in. And if things do *not* go as planned with all this, my kids are used to hearing me say (and by now they join right in with me albeit with rolling eyes and humorous voices added): "If that's the worst thing that happens to you today, consider yourself lucky."