Carrot Top

The answers to these questions will help, possibly: *Does she enjoy grocery shopping? *Is she able to travel to different stores for different items when she shops? There may be transportation issues (besides the fact of a pregnant woman managing her other child while she shops). *What are her most successful dishes "now"? Which ones work time after time? This ties into the "build upon success" theories. *Are there things that she or her husband do not like to eat? *How much time does she spend now cooking? Does she like to linger over cooking or get it done as quickly as possible? Is she mostly a homebody who will putter away at cooking, or is she an out-and-about person whose activities are mostly out of the house? *Is she or her husband an inveterate "snacker"? *Is a portion of the food budget going to beer or wine and if so can this be focused in on to improve costs? *If they dine out frequently, is it because of the social aspects of restaurant dining or is it simply from the wanting to have someone else do the cooking? If it is the social aspect, this could be addressed by hosting pot-luck dinners, perhaps.

I'd also ask her if she tends to cook "what her husband likes to eat" because this knowledge could lead to a more finessed learning plan. So to speak. What I'm trying to say here is that what you teach her needs to be what she wants to learn, not what one might think she *needs* to learn from anyone's viewpoint but her own. A lot of things bear weight upon this, if what she learns will, finally, be used in her everyday life, or if they just are things that she learns then does not really care to use for one reason or another. Was that clear? I won't, I promise, try to say it again.

No ideas, strategies, or comments, but a couple of questions. What are her "beginning-level cooking skills" composed of, in reality? What does she cook now? Where did she learn these skills? Is it the economic factor that is urging her in the direction of wanting to learn about cooking, or a sincere interest in actually doing cooking? It seems to me that both these questions will bear weight upon whatever plan the two of you come up with that will "work". For the best lesson plans in the world will not work unless one knows the student's basic impetus for wanting to learn. If there is a true love of cooking, then almost anything you choose to teach her will be taken in and used well. If this is being done mostly from a sense of duty, the task will be more difficult, and the "lessons" would have to be tailored to that knowledge.

Arabesque by Claudia Roden

The date does creep up on one. Today I was trying to think of something the kids could make. The idea of rag-wreaths came to mind, with the added touch of little cellophane-wrapped bags of homemade cookies or candies. The wreaths are easy to make - just get styrofoam wreaths then cut colorful fabric strips into rectangular pieces that can be pushed (with a pencil point or even a lobster pick ) in the middle into the foam, leaving the two ends sticking out. Use an assortment of fabric, and push the pieces in closely so that none of the base shows. If I was really smart, I'd cut up some of these tons of boxes of outgrown kid's clothes into strips for the fabric. But probably they will make their way to the Salvation Army as usual. The prettily wrapped packages of cookies or candies could be then tied onto to the finished wreath with ribbon or gold elastic cord.

I. need. oysters. now. And, Need dog, too. (She looks like a Blue-Heeled Hound I used to know. Good cattle dogs. Charmers, too. )

Pablo Neruda's Elementary Odes. Some bits and pieces: From Ode to Tomatoes: we pour oil, essential child of the olive, onto its halved hemispheres, pepper adds its fragrance, salt, its magnetism; it is the wedding of the day, parsley hoists its flag, potatoes bubble vigorously, the aroma of the roast knocks at the door, it's time! come on! From Ode to an Artichoke: The sedulous cabbage arranges its petticoats; He sings, Neruda.

And from bread itself comes bread sauce. Bread sauce is a quiet nonchalant sort of thing, generally most self-deprecating the year round as it awaits its seasonal turn to appear with an arrogant burst of self-confidence as it brims from fine china gravy tureens at holiday time. Yet bread sauce holds in memory a long past, with paths meandering far and wide into other manners and means, perhaps related, perhaps simply co-existing. Yet each relation or close ally is made from the base form of bread, dashed into crumbs then set to gay dalliance with other good and warming things. Bread sauce was known in Ancient Rome, and from there it travels on forward through time, taking different forms of style. In this essay on a 1545 Remove for a Dinner Party we find that the breadsauce has become green with herbs, similar to what we now might call salsa verde. A hop skip and a jump brings us to the equitable joys of skordalia from Greece; gazpacho (which of course is a soup, but still we might include it for the familiarity of the humble stale bread crumb base, blended with liquids to make a fine dish); and ajo blanco, which is called the "original" gazpacho, showing a Moorish influence. During the Civil War in the US, roast partridge with breadsauce must have been a treat, the hunters carrying home braces of partridge to roast over the coals of the fireplace or stove, the stale bread generously endowed with flavor and spice to enrichen and blend together the strong flavors of the game and the creamy sauce. Fanny Farmer offers a recipe for bread sauce in her 1918 classic Boston Cooking School Cookbook, and our interest and curiosity in finding ways to use bread as sauce today is shown in a rustic, delightfully mouth-watering sauce povera for pasta from Italy - little cubed bread sauce and in a lovely minted bread sauce from the Naked Chef, Jamie Oliver. The classic bread sauce served today at many Christmas dinner-tables is soft, filled with scent of nutmeg and a gentle waft of onion, as in this traditional bread sauce. Indeed, we might need to call this recipe (as Henry James would have it) - "the time honored bread sauce of the happy ending" - though surely more shapes and surprises have yet to come. .......................................................................................................................................... Edited to sweep up crumbs of loosened grammar.

Here is something on food culture from an anthropological view: Food and Eating

Here is something I enjoyed reading about food culture from an anthrolopolgical perspective: Food and Eating. Most discussions of "food culture" *are* geographically based, but it seems to me that even within these groupings, it is important to know the similarities that *all* cultures share. This possibly can offer one a deeper understanding of the "hows and whys" of the individual geographic cultural groupings rather than the simpler "this is how and what it is". P.S. My own geography is off - I meant to post this in the Food Culture thread. Will do so now.

You know I've had the good fortune to have read in full that poem of yours before, Rachel. Yet each time my eyes (and my heart) take it in, I am astonished anew at the power it holds. Yes, I do, ma'am. (Though I must admit to a terrible impulse rising within me to poke that Poacher quite sharply in his behind several times with a sharp sewing pin before he's allowed free from the pot. ) Thank you for sharing your magic with us this week.

If you're going to be Lucullus, you will need many slaves.

In comparison to that guy, I feel rather sane. Darn it.

Pranksgiving comes but once a year, and it is the duty of all to celebrate this national holiday. There remain some people who argue that the old traditional holiday “Thanksgiving” should remain in place for everyone, unaltered, stable, full of tradition and lore. This partisan approach has led to undigested holiday dinners for those who wish for something different. Thanksgiving can be a problem for some when it comes to dress code, due to an underlying sense of guilt that hints one should dress up a bit. Pranksgiving outfits help solve this problem and even make dining more pleasant. For children, Quaker serving outfits are advised. Large aprons with pockets to catch falling food, with bonnets or large black high top hats which cover the head entirely including the eyebrows will both keep chocolate and pies from being smushed into the hair. These outfits also keep the children busy trying to balance well enough to stand up, thereby avoiding some of the traditional holiday bickering. Once the children are dressed this way, of course they can be encouraged to enter even more into the spirit of things. Mother should sit at the table, directing the children as to how to feed the ravening hordes (i.e. “the family”). Some of the newer dress options offered for grown-ups on Pranksgiving include The Fur Trapper (torn old dark-colored t-shirts and ragged dungarees complete this outfit, though the effect is better if the clothes are so old and unwashed that they seem to be growing some sort of fur); The Missionary (any old dark-colored sheet will do, draped around oneself then tied with a bathrobe cord. If you can find a graduation ceremony cap, it will add a touch of immense drama). Some adult Pranksgiving celebrants who choose to have their dinners as twosomes without the madding crowds might enjoy The Chief (one of those little triangle things around the bottom, with a feathered headdress and nothing else but bodypaint) and The Chiefess (tie some chamois around your waist with a shoestring for a skirt. Simplicity itself. More than Thanksgiving, though, the Pranksgiving menu can be challenging. Whatever is served should be a complete surprise to those who dine, and where possible it should make reference to old traditional menus. One of my more successful Pranksgiving menus is as follows: Roast Giant Squid Ink Gravy Grits with Hoop Cheese, Peanuts, and Canned Fried Onion Topping Sweet Potato Foam on Apple Peels Cranberry and Corn Chip Brittle Small menu, yes – but it made its point with the beauty of that roast giant squid as it sat towering in the center of the dining table, a glistening icon of delight! There is only one rule must be honored on Pranksgiving: Invite who you really want to, and nobody else. Guilt should play no part in giving real thanks, nor does it belong in the realm of fun pranks. If this means that you dine alone, that's okay too. Enjoy your holiday, however you celebrate it. Much, to be thankful for and so many ways to show it!

Here, of course, in the US, Thanksgiving is our harvest festival. I just came across an incredible site: Harvest Festivals that has a fantastic list of harvest festivals worldwide, complete with the traditional foods prepared and eaten and the histories and myths attached to the days. I would love to hear stories about harvest festivals in other parts of the world, if you have one to share.

Really, I don't see why you would not try this. I could find many many sayings and quotes to induce you to try. Why not just pick a subject you think would work and start on it? It would seem to me that your knowledge of Serbian specialties would be something that would work there. . . (Take a look, at alacarte's successes in the past few years. Her article list is available from her website. Proof. It *can* be done. ) Of course if you did try to write an article to submit to Gastronomica, we might lack for adequate posts *here*, and I might get blamed for the subsequent loss of fun. Oops.

A dangerous attraction, those leavings, indeed. Happy Thanksgiving, Rachel!

I think I know that guy. .......................................... There once was a Man of the World Who ate caviar till his hair curled Silver spoons used as shovels For fish eggs he grovelled Till the day that he finally hurled.

I look forward very much to reading all these stories shared, by those who put pen to paper with heart in hand, wishing to offer up a perfect apple or peach or pumpkin pie in essence of generous care but not in form of factual thing to put into one's mouth, so am glad to hear that more of your own story will be arriving here soon. Ouch.

Teff is difficult to source. I have an Ethiopian friend who developed her own injera recipe without teff, still using sourdough techniques. *I* can not taste but a very slight difference in injera made as she makes it without the teff, from the versions I've tasted in Ethiopian restaurants that one assumes will be using teff, but of course my palate is not trained to years of the taste of teff, so how would I know? She is not satisfied, ever, completely, with the injera without teff. Sometimes her brother will send her some teff from home, but not ever enough to last long enough. Which spices she uses *exactly* she refuses to ever tell anyone - claiming that families each have their own spice blends that must remain a closely guarded secret in the family. I have no problem with this, as it adds a sense of magic to the thing. There are only two cookbooks widely available in the States where one can find Ethiopian recipes, both available on Amazon. I find this one to be the best and the most complete. It is definitely not a "coffeetable" sort of cookbook, though. Lots of recipes but no gorgeosity. The recipes work, though, so I guess the gorgeosity lands on the table and in the mouth.

The Portugese language always sounds to me as if it were filled with kisses when spoken. I can understand this more fully after gazing upon those pastries.

Some of the nicest meals I've had recently based solely on vegetables have been Ethiopian. Injera topped with different things - potatoes, cauliflower, green beans, and other blends cooked with traditional Ethiopian spices - mounded onto the warmed injera in little treasure piles with yet more injera torn and used to gather up between the fingers, bundles to pop into the mouth. Satisfying in all ways, including the method used of eating with one's fingers. My children and their friends seem to love it too. It has the fun of pizza and the thrill of intense spicy savory flavors.

Well. . .read this book first then decide: Reay Tannahill's Flesh and Blood. I don't have any recipes to offer you myself though.

Yes. . .rather goes along with humoral concepts, doesn't it. Foods that have certain personalities of their own attached to them which can then be transmitted to those that eat them. Yin/yang theory too, though that seems more complex to me, more difficult to grasp in full than the humoral concepts. I spent my career feeding (mostly) men at table of this sort, though there were a few women here and there that peopled that world. Careful and planned useage of Power does go into how a meal is planned, served, and eaten, every step of the way. It is sort of like background music, and it can affect whatever is going on at the table between those dining in large and small ways. Fascinating in some ways. Yucky in other ways. Definitely Macchiavellian when done to the hilt. Some men who wish to exercise power really focus on this, others might not. An issue of personal style and desires. Mostly there were men at the table when I was there as executive chef. I do have a friend though, who as a private chef had to deal more with the female side of things, with dining at home (though needless to say often for business related dinners), and my understanding is that it can be quite as intensive, the power plays with food, with a female in charge who wishes to exercise power using food. Doesn't surprise me a bit. Only once saw one fellow who actually acted quite like a zebra - close to the kick bite spit thing. But he had a bad back so I had to forgive him. Treated him like a patient rather than as any other thing. That worked. (Strange that this wierd behavior never affected his career, he went on to be some Presidents's Something-or-Other in High Office.)

I just have to say that I love your screen name, BeefCheeks. Compelling, in all ways. P.S. And since this is a limerick thread, it should be noted that the name would be a great start to a limerick.