Carrot Top

My god that was a beautiful story. I loved it. Mwahahahahaha!

I completely agree with this. But at the same time I have a feeling that your desire will emerge in a shorter rather than a longer time for some reason. And I also think that your sister will continue to cook even when or if you return to it. Because it was not only your muse she somehow had bestowed upon her but also your mother's. An unexpected gift in a surprising package. I'd be willing to bet that the idea of cooking surrounds you, in the rooms of your mind. Like a wraith, it's there and then it's gone, whoosh! Here's a Trick to Capture the Wraith: Decide that you want a salad. A small salad of dark leafy delicate greens. Salads are always good on any occassion and really, they are not cooking. Besides, all you want is a little salad. Not a big one, not a complex one, not one to serve anyone else but you. When you get to the grocery store choose your greens for delicacy. Do not buy any salad greens that need to be washed. The best thing to do is to find some pre-washed mesclun mix that you can pick and choose from, but if there is none then bagged greens will do. Contrary to concerned whispers in some quarters, there is no ghetto in heaven where those who use bagged salad mixes are relegated to live. They mix right in with all the other good folk. After your greens are in your cart, find the garlic. This is important. The garlic must be fresh. It cannot be in a jar, it can not be old, it can not be sprouting. Somehow when you look at it you will just know that this is fresh garlic, sweet, soft, juicy. One head of beautiful garlic is what you need. Besides that, at home you'll need some good olive oil and vinegar, some salt and pepper to grind onto the salad. The usual boring things have to be done when you get home. Greens in a bowl, dressing stuff ready to dress it. Now comes the important part. Take the head of garlic and separate it till you get to the center where the tiny cloves are, the little moon slivers of creamy silver, the tiny dense bits of garlic heart. Choose the best one. It will tell you somehow that it is best - be sure to listen for this. Remove the papery skin with a small sharp knife then with a big shiny weapon of a knife, crush the clove into a soft mass on the chopping board. Do not cut it but mash it, till it is almost nothing, but it is a bit of tininess that you can scrape up with the edge of your big shiny weapon of a knife to toss into your waiting bowl of salad. Again, this is not cooking. You are merely making a quick salad for yourself, and salad is always a good thing. Finish up with dresssing the salad. Nothing but oil, vinegar, salt, pepper. Toss and eat. Do not clean up the cutting board or knife till later, when you feel like it. This trick captures the wraith. Try it, you'll see.

I have no idea who will win, at this point. Really I have to go back and wonder if my theory about the panel choosing winners and losers based on what would make the best "storyline" is right. Because Trey was the one that most everyone would be most surprised at being eliminated. The collective sigh and shock of the audience could almost be heard even though it's a show with no live audience. Hung was like a ninja with those birds and then again like a ninja in another way in the moment he swooped in and demanded of Sara if indeed she was going to act like an executive chef or not with accepting the others food as was, or ask that it be brought up to where it should be. In that moment, Sara did become what she was supposed to be, and it altered the shape of what went out to the tables. Last week I was puzzled by the lack of this same attitude from Trey in his role as exec chef. This episode he did say he was going to do exactly that (be on top of everything) but then he was not, or at least they did not show him as being so. Interesting move, CJ placing Trey in that position though he (CJ) was team leader. Everyone seemed dead tired this show - Tom's eyes kept blinking with impatience and really a deep tiredness was coming from almost everyone. Oh. Except for Hung, of course.

Hoop cheese? Why it's a cheese that tastes so good everyone that eats it goes "Hoop! Hoop! Hoop!" because it makes them so happy! (Really it is like a sort of cheddar ) I forgot to add. Any country store worth its name has to have at least one barefoot child running around sticking his hands in the beans and stirring them up while at the same time trying to catch your eye to tell you about his latest dog-bite or tree-falling out of and at least one older person telling stories about beans or pawpaws. Pawpaws the fruit, not pawpaws the grandfather. Though often enough PawPaw gets mixed into the stories somehow.

Sitting before me is a Pink German tomato I have to hold in two hands to pick up. The aroma coming from it smells just like walking between waist high tomato plants in a well tended garden, the leaves being brushed from walking through. There's also a pile of pole beans looking like tormented souls, twisted and sharp. They're so fresh they squeak. On the way home I ate my hoop cheese. I just came across a country store, closer to my home than I ever imagined. The next-closest authentic country store is where I used to live, more than an hour's drive away tucked in an area nobody visits unless they live there. But this country store was set down smackdab in a semi-industrial area about twenty minutes from where I now live, a survivor from other times, holding on with battered roof and buckets of beans to its pride. The country stores I know carry the best homegrown produce. Better, I daresay, than the Farmer's Markets around here. There's silver queen corn and yaller corn to be had. Tomatoes of four or more luxurious homely sorts. Dried beans in baskets. Double-yolked eggs. Country butter (this means you can taste the hay. It's not to everyone's liking). And hoop cheese, always hoop cheese. Today I scored some Scuppernong grapes, too, each one the size of a tiny plum, golden and ready to burst. Are there any country stores near where you live? Are they authentic or dolled-up? What do they sell? I love them. But they gotta be real. All country, no rock and roll.

Destiny is calling me to sing that song today, though. I had to go to a new area of Christiansburg (the next town over) where I hadn't been before. Semi-industrial, off the highway and out of the way a bit - to find some arcane part for my son's remote control helicopter. I had the hardest time finding the place, but lo and behold! Up the road a piece ( ) there was, to my disbelieving eyes, a pit barbecue in a small building. Due South Pit Cooked BBQ. Only pit bbq in the area, they've been open about six months. And to make it even sweeter, they are the 2007 Virginia State BBQ Champions placing 1st Place Sauce - Hot Red. I wandered in. Clean place, small and unassuming. Menu has (besides BBQ with four different sauces) "Mildred Lilly's Pimento Cheese Sandwich"; "Grammy's Bean Sandwich"; Banana Pudding; Fried Green Tomatoes; and Fried Pickles among the other offerings. 1465 Roanoke Street is the address. They have live bluegrass on Thursday nights. The guy I got the helicopter part from said the place is good - he particularly loves the deep fried pickles.

Here's yet another link to a topic that skates around the matter.

Here's some answers in a topic started by the venerable Sir Charles whom we know better as Busboy.

Yes, the cover was good but did you see the photo of short ribs? You know I detest the word "food porn" and all that it represents but honey, that photograph wasn't porn, it was love. My second favorite is the photo of esabeche, the shrimp - again, not porn. I just want to be the little pink shrimps so adorably curled and red onions so lazily laying entwined's friend for life. I've had to look at both of these photos several times a day since this magazine has been here. ............................................ Interesting, the concept of showcasing various Latin American foodways all in one issue. I don't remember seeing anything quite like this before except in books, and the only one on Latin America I can remember ever seeing is the Time-Life series which, though it has aged gracefully, certainly has aged. My favorite in this issue is the focus on Puerto Rican cookery. It is a cuisine/cookery/cocina that not often finds coverage. Memory takes me back to NYC in the 1970's where lots of really good Puerto Rican cooking could be found both in small storefront restaurants in various neighborhoods and, because there were so many people of Puerto Rican descent living there then, in the homes of friends and acquaintances. I can not tolerate allowing too many more days to go by before making that full dinner featured in the issue, for it is softly singing my name and I can almost smell the spices simmering. ................................................. Afterthought: Somehow though all are represented and exist in a filmic medium, I can not imagine Remy the Rat from Rattatouille successfully making either or any of these dishes. Meow.

Why am I reminded of the line "Keep the little woman in the kitchen"? Mmm. Yeah, sure. As much as I want to watch him on TV. Which is not terribly much but then again I don't like TV too much - I don't think it's designed to be either high culture or terribly educational or real. I'd rather read what Rocco thinks about Ferran etc., and I'd give more weight to it, than I would want to read what any person outside of the industry, or less experienced in the industry (i.e. most anyone who cares to post on an internet board) thinks about Ferran etc. And since I like to read what people post on internet boards then I guess I'd like to read Rocco on it all even more.

I did CPR on an old guy that dropped right out of his chair onto the dining room floor with a massive heart attack one day but he died anyway. No risk to my own life, and anywhere near as daring as that wonderful heroine you mentioned, Johnny, but I was wearing a miniskirt that day and when I turned around for a moment as we were bent over him on the floor I noticed that all eyes were focused on my behind. Embarrassing. I get a chance to be a heroine and the only thing I do is let them see my behind by mistake.

Ah! Better yet, interview him for eG. Find out what he thinks about Ferran, too. Please.

You might want to consider calling him for a dinner date, doc. You're a personable guy, good-looking, and my goodness I'd love to hear you and Rocco discuss meatballs.

I'm wondering if it is the consensus of the group that people who get into something for the money or for the fame are all warped. Lots of people get into professions for these reasons. Performers in many metiers are attracted by the notion of fame as much as they are attracted by their craft. Does this have an affect on whether they succeed or not? And is the talent level affected by this attraction? Other sorts of professionals can also be attracted by the notion of the money to be had in the pursuance of their profession as much as they are attracted by the real facets of the profession itself. In our society these professions have often been the ones of doctors or lawyers. I would add investment bankers and those in the computer industry as well. Is this a warped way to be? For those people too? Or is it only chefs who are "warped" when they are this way. (Oh. Before answering, please do go work fourteen hours on your feet for six days straight for eight years or so in a professional kitchen. )

True. I never thought I'd be defending Rocco of all people but really the line just keeps running through my mind (and I never say this): "He's not your bitch."

I think of Rocco as a talented chef who achieved way more than most chefs do, and who on top of that managed to do it in one of the toughest markets in the world: New York City. Also think of him as someone who managed to write a decent cookbook. No small accomplishment. Also think of him as an entertainer. He sure has entertained me. I daresay he knows what fresh fish is or isn't and is sure enough of knowing that fact that he does not have to tiptoe around worried about how he looks to those of lesser assuredness measuring him. Arrogant? Maybe. But he'll be laughing all the way to the bank whether or not anyone takes him "seriously" I do believe. He's still rather young, too. He's got time to try to develop into whatever direction he wants to go or alternately to take the money, run for the hills, run a ranch and cook like a cowboy for whomever he pleases, and it may not be paying customers he wants to cook for.

My daughter loves it too. Neither my son nor I like it very much - we don't eat it. But to her it's like a bowl of solace. She even has an exact ratio of cheese sauce to macaroni that she has to do herself or it's just not right. She's a Virgo. That explains much.

He might not want forgiveness . . . he might not want to apologize. He might not want to re-surface successfully. He just might want to make as much profit from all of this as he can. There's profit in reality TV in being a jerk. Most of the shows survive by the fact that so many of the personalities featured are way to one end of the spectrum of human behavior in terms of self-involvement. Showing these people keeps viewers glued to the set in shock and disbelief, wondering at it all. On reality TV, nice guys do finish last. If they are even considered in the first place. He might not want to run a restaurant ever again, either. It's not the easiest job in the world. He did do a recent blog on the Top Chef site as someone else mentioned above. It's worth reading.

Well . . . relegated to radio etc. as you say he may be but that's still far from being off the radar altogether. I should add I'm not a fan of his nor not a fan. I was appalled at the behavior he displayed on his reality TV show and not surprised at all at the fallout he got from that. He stepped in a pile of sh*t of his own making right while he was on stage with everyone's eyes trained on him. And the Bertolli thing is not to my personal taste. But he hasn't killed any small animals nor mugged any old ladies as far as I know, so weighing his faults against the "greatly to be abhorred" category of people, to me he's either just an average garden-variety jerk (who are everywhere ) or a guy who started off running too fast before he knew how to use his feet. He screwed up. In public. But it does not seem to me that he was just handed his chance at fame and fortune. Somehow, he earned it. Somehow, he then didn't manage it at all well in some ways. Would I invest in him if I were a tycoon type? Who knows. Someone still is, somehow. He may yet make it as a businessperson. It does appear to me that is the direction he is going: selling Rocco not selling Rocco's cooking. He sure is the guy people love to hate though.

Mmm. The local "whole foods market" here, by which I mean the store that sells whole foods which one might call a health food store if one were so inclined but only if so inclined, which is an independent operation run in a medium-smallish space by the woman who owns it gives away cotton carry-bags with a purchase of fifty dollars. They are nice, light, colorful in a bright shade of indigo. Anyone that has an unbending desire for a cotton bag really should come here and get one. I just picked up the recent issue of Gourmet, September 2007. First time I've bought it since December. Why did I buy it? The colors on the cover and on some of the photographs inside drew me in - they are gorgeous. Then on top of it all there actually seemed to be enough meat I'd want to read. Generally when I scan food magazines I almost fall down in a fit of narcolepsy even though I do not have narcolepsy. So I'm looking forward to reading this. I carried it home in a Barnes and Noble green plastic bag. That bag will be reused for the endless piles of whatever it is that my kids always seem to need to carry around. Maybe after that I'll donate it to the thrift shop. I wonder if they will sell it or simply re-use it. I wonder how far that plastic bag will travel. The world is the limit.

There's more than one way to look at anything. Rocco may not have filled the shoes of his narrative arc to the satisfaction of his public. But it could be that he is filling the shoes he wants to fill - that of businessperson. Once a chef, always a chef?

Wow. That's the first time I looked at that topic. Fifteen pages? Phew. I do broccoli at 425 to 450 degrees F as opposed to the 400 the cauliflower recipe asks for, and for a shorter period of time. Five to ten minutes depending on the size cut. Some of the tinier edges are on the verge of blackening. At that point, the broccoli-ness diminishes. But it's touchy. It can get overdone quickly from there on in.

Yes, and some nice add-ons as a finish are a touch of balsamic vinegar, or a hint of lemon zest with black pepper, or toasted buttered breadcrumbs.

I used to make an app of Parmesan and mayo on black bread triangles, quickly broiled then served. It was terrible how many one could eat, would want to eat, considering the high mayo content. And grated onion? Velveeta melts so beautifully that many soups are enhanced by a chunk or two stirred in just before serving. ← I never did the onion thing but it sounds excellent, Jaymes. The soup thing was running through my mind earlier - wondering what Velveeta would do in a soup. Does it melt to blend or does it stay in lovely little soft bundles of meltiness? There's a vegetable soup that goes along with the Stone Soup story that I used to make in the kids' classrooms which even kids who don't like vegetables used to like. The secret ingredient was those little smoky sausages. Wooo hoo. Add Velveeta to that recipe and one could take over the world.

Thinking back on rivers, I'd guess the only other parameter for "river food" is that it go well with beer. I love the term. Makes me half think of real rivers and picnics upon them and half think of Wind in the Willows (where I think Mole may have set up a picnic on the riverbank . . .) That was a very nice 7th post, BetD.