MarketStEl

FWIW, another Bay Area eGer has offered to take me to a Silicon Valley joint that makes 'em like home, or so she claims. I may take the offer up, or I may suggest another option. My encounter with the place in Berkeley was pure serendipity, and -- just as I don't order regular breakfast fare when eating brunch out because I can do that just as well at home -- I hadn't planned to travel all the way across the country to eat cheap food that I can get better in Philly.

I miss brick cheese too. I know someone upthread posted a Website link for a Wisconsin cheesemaker who ships it. As for Cheese with Stuff In It outside the English sphere of influence: What about Havarti with dill?

I return from the West Coast on April 11. I'll get right to organizing a trip. And I should have been thinking! My brother is a wine maven and lives in Woodinville, an eastern suburb of Seattle which is also where several of Washington State's best-known wineries are located -- he drove me past several on the way from Sea-Tac to his home. In any event, we will probably have a very good wine from Washington to accompany our outing. I've arranged a swap with a Seattle eGulleteer: She will send me a very good Late Harvest Syrah from up this way, and I will send her a pound of Pennsylvania Noble Cheddar in exchange.

Check your PMs.

Oh God. That is so depressing. It just makes me want to bang my head on the desk. Repeatedly. Obesity. Prepared Foods. Could there be any connection?? When did we get so lazy.....? ← The funny thing is, over the past year or so, the portion of my food bill that goes to fresh produce has gone up, and all of the increase gets spent at the RTM. I've discovered that with decent refrigeration, you can buy good quality fresh produce a few days before you plan to use or cook it, thus enjoying both the convenience of buying a week's worth of food in a single trip and the superior quality and results of using fresh produce. There could be a connection indeed, but you probably will not see anything in the press making the connection explicitly. Too many large interests at stake. BTW, my impression after visiting Pike Place Market is that it's as much arts and crafts as fresh food, but: --the Pike Place Market is actually several buildings, not all commonly owned, that extend over about four city blocks and down three levels from Pike Place itself, which leaves lots of room for many different merchants, --the market's requirement for the craftspeople matches that of the food vendors, namely, the objects they sell have to be their own (i.e., no middlemen), and --the fresh food purveyors who do business there are all uniformly excellent. Still, I would worry that the tourists who come to watch the guys throw fish might be altering the market's balance -- which is delicate, signs of popularity notwithstanding.

Don't shoot me. I've also had an In-n-Out Burger so far. (Up there with Five Guys, in case you were curious.) Had a fabulous dinner/pig-out night in Seattle last night, courtesy of a wonderful bunch of Seattleite eGullet Society members -- I've got a suggestion for you, Katie, should you find yourself out that way -- and am returning to the Bay Area tomorrow, with more indigenous fare on the agenda. Reports will be posted to the relevant boards, as above. Tonight: Dinner at my brother's home in Woodinville again. Sean and his wife Kristin welcomed me with delicious burgers on Wednesday, and they're serving vegetable lasagna tonight. (I'm up this way mainly to see my new niece.) More on that when I get around to posting on the Pacific Northwest board.

Fair criticism, Charles. But a good hoagie is like no other sandwich, so if it's been a while since I've had one, and the opportunity presents itself, I'll, ahem, bite. In all fairness, the first local delicacy (after that Kobe beef meatloaf at Kincaid's, which was really good) I had was an In-n-Out Burger (double-double, animal style, of course). I insisted Akiba take me there, over mild "I make better ones at home" protests. I'm sure she does. So do I. But those are a different category of burger. For what they are, In-n-Out burgers are awfully damned good --juicy, beefy and (when served animal style) gloriously messy. (Closest East Coast analogue, for anyone who cares: Five Guys, whose fries beat In-n-Out's.) (En route there, she gave me a glimpse into the Bay Area's famous cause-driven politics by telling me how Wal-Mart managed to open a store in Oakland -- in the same shopping center where the In-n-Out is, near the airport -- despite a City of Oakland ordinance forbidding chain stores. It seems the Port of Oakland is a law unto itself.) I'll be back on Saturday to sample more indigenous fare and ride the F-Market. (We did spot a car in Red Arrow livery while walking down Market Tuesday evening.) In the meantime, I have an amazing day in Seattle to recap.

Before I go any further, let me state that I fully understand how it is that people come to the Bay Area to visit and then never want to leave. The region has a Mediterranean style and charm that I find very appealing. And I'm sure that I'd be a lot more fit climbing those hills every day. That is, if I don't overcompensate by pigging out on the food. My trip started with a very good lunch at a waterside restaurant in Oakland's Jack London Square, Kincaid's, where I had a Kobe beef meatloaf (had to try it on those grounds alone). My cousin Akiba loves this place, and I can see why. But I wasn't prepared for what I encountered when I took BART up to Berkeley Wednesday morning. Oh, I fully expected to find the Sixties alive and well on Telegraph Avenue, and I wasn't disappointed. Sproul Plaza was pretty much what I expected to see; only the causes had changed -- Vietnam then, Darfur now. What I hadn't expected to find was this: Here I traveled about as far as one can from Philadelphia while remaining in the contiguous United States, and there, staring me in the face, is a shop selling cheesesteaks and hoagies. Of course, I could not let this place pass by uninspected. I needed to see if they served sandwiches worthy of the name. So let's start with the name. As Californians who haven't read my foodblog -- which is the overwhelming bulk of them -- are unfamiliar with the term 'hoagie,' it needs definition, which the proprietors of IB's provide... ...in error. First off, hoagies are most emphatically NOT HOT. A proper hoagie is served, and eaten, cold. Secondly, if you travel anywhere on the East Coast that's more than about 50 miles from Philadelphia and ask for a "hoagie," you will be met with a blank stare, then, "You mean a sub?" So with that established, I went up to the counter, presented my Pennsylvania driver's license to the counterguy to establish my bona fides, and proceeded to order one of each sandwich: the Italian combo hoagie -- not toasted, please -- and the teriyaki cheesesteak. (In doing the latter, I have committed what would be heresy back home, but I have to allow for some local variety here -- and IB's does have variety down pat when it comes to cheesesteaks.) IB's also oven-toasts its sandwich rolls for cheesesteaks too, as you can see in the photo below. While waiting for my cheesesteak, another customer ordered a burger. The patty was substantial and handmade, a good sign. So how did the sandwiches taste? Well, folks, it really is all in the bread. The meats were fine, and the teriyaki sauce added a nice tang to the cheesesteak, but the bread left a lot to be desired. Someone do the folks at IB's a favor and give them the phone number for Amoroso Baking Company. IB's Hoagies and Cheesesteaks 2513 Durant Avenue (off Telegraph) Berkeley, CA 94704 (510) 841-1681 Nearest transit service: BART (Richmond-Fremont or Richmond-Daly City lines) to Berkeley station. Walk down Shattuck Avenue to Bancroft Way, five blocks on Bancroft to Telegraph, and one block on Telegraph. Or AC Transit Routes 40 or 40L from Bay Fair or Berkeley BART to Telegraph and Durant.

Would you consider this writing? Even though the tone and style of the material here approximates conversation, it does involve composition, even if it's not thought out in advance, and that's close enough to writing for me. And since we've heard of eGers being offered paid work based on the strength of things they have posted here, other people apparently consider this writing too.

History time: When the Reading Railroad and the Terminal Market were both in their heyday, suburbanites who lived along the Reading's suburban lines to Philadelphia's north could place orders with Market merchants, and the orders would be delivered to them on outbound trains; the customers could pick them up at the Reading station nearest their home. Would that we had a transportation option like that now! Edited to fix grammar error.

I think that one of the things that works in the Reading Terminal Market's favor is that Philadelphia has one of the largest downtown residential populations of any US city (I think only New York and Chicago outrank us). I'm certainly going to stop by Pike Place Market when I'm in Seattle this week, but it won't be to buy fresh fish from those fish-tossers or fresh produce from Washington State farms, unless maybe it's a Washington State apple to snack on. Tourists make a poor customer base for a farmers' market that wishes to emphasize the grower-consumer link in the preparation of fresh foods. What they are looking for is food to consume then and there, and any public market that counts tourists as a majority of its customers will no doubt find its fresh food vendors soon facing a profit squeeze if not outright ruin. Other public markets in largely tourist zones -- Boston's Quincy Market is a prime example -- eventually all but abandoned their role as sources for fresh food because the customers found it too inconvenient to go there to buy it. And as the RTM's own careful balancing act makes clear, it's not always easy to cater to both markets where both are sizable, as they are at the RTM, which sits under a large convention hall. It looks like the Ferry Building is just far enough away from resident San Franciscans that it's not a market of choice for residents seeking fresh food. If I'm not mistaken, there is a significant residential district within shouting distance of Pike Place, and that may help that market fend off tourist pressure, especially if the number of downtown Seattle residents continues to grow.

That's actually not the subtitle of this modest but rich scholarly work, which Carrot Top graciously lent to me. Its real subtitle is "Race, Gender and Class at the Dinner Table." But I like my own invented subtitle better, for Sherrie A. Inness' book (Palgrave Macmillan, 2006) is an extended exploration of how women (with maybe one exception) used cookbooks, articles on food and cooking, and TV shows to challenge and subvert stereotypes and common assumptions about people and cultures. Inness is catholic in her reach and scope. She points out that the vegan activists whose efforts moved totally plant-based diets out of the fringe and into the edge of the mainstream would probably squirm in the presence of the traditional rich dishes celebrated by the Two Fat Ladies. Yet both worked to challenge assumptions--the vegans, that an animal-free diet was unpalatable, and the Ladies, that women had to starve themselves half to death to be acceptable. In addition to these folks, Inness' book looks at the ways that Chinese-Americans, African-Americans and "poor white trash" used cookbooks to argue for their proper place at the table, so to speak, and to challenge negative stereotypes about their respective groups. It's in the chapter on white trash food literature that the main exception to the all-female cast of actors in this book appears, thanks largely to the success and popular acceptance of Ernest Matthew Mickler's landmark White Trash Cooking (1986), a love letter to the common fare of the ordinary Southerner. She also chronicles the natural-food revolution sparked by Frances Moore Lappé's Diet for a Small Planet and its progeny, linking these books back to a moral reform crusade that originated in England in the early 19th century when the vegetarian movement was born. (Inness goes on to note in her chapter on the Two Fat Ladies that while the Ladies and the natural-foods advocates also went in opposite directions over nutrition--the Ladies despised the healthy-eating crowd's asceticism--they both shared a passion for honest food, produced as close to the point of consumption and with as little processing as possible.) But perhaps the most interesting chapters are the two that argue for mass-produced convenience foods as agents of women's liberation. The first chapter of Inness' book surveys articles in 1950s women's magazines that extolled the virtues of these new convenience foods as ways women could free up time for other pursuits. These articles still paid obeisance to the not-yet-discredited notion that women found their highest fulfillment in the domestic sphere by way of promoting "creativity" through dishes that incorporated these foods as ingredients, but the bigger point they made--that convenience foods gave women time to do other things--opened the door for women to challenge that notion completely. Which Peg Bracken did in her acidly witty 1962 bestseller, the I Hate to Cook Book, the subject of Inness' third chapter. Inness argues that in its own way, Bracken's book was as significant as Germaine Greer's The Feminine Mystique in shattering the old notions about women's proper place and sphere of influence. (And as those magazine articles did, the I Hate to Cook Book unapologetically made use of convenience foods in its recipes for women who couldn't avoid having to cook something.) Inness covers some of the same territory Janet Theophano did in her earlier book Eat My Words, but expands Theophano's argument into new areas. Some people may roll their eyes when the phrase "race, class and gender" is trotted out, but Inness' book shows that it's still a useful prism through which to view a period of profound social change -- and a useful device for teasing out messages that cooks, cookbook readers and Food Network viewers may have been completely unaware they were receiving. Edited to properly identify the lender.

Reading through this thread, I think I understand why the Zagat Survey is so successful -- even though it really offers none of the hand-holding that longer reviews provide and (evidently) many diners need. And if you don't think diners need hand-holding, reflect for a minute on the fact that chain, not independent, restaurants often dominate the dining scene in most of the country's vast suburbs, where the majority of Americans now live. Chains are successful because the diners know what to expect when they walk in the door -- or think they know, thanks to the TV and print advertising. It won't be the best meal they could get for the money they're spending -- nor will it be the worst (though in some cases, it won't be as good as it ought to be). What it will be is predictable. That, for many, counts for a lot. The bulk of restaurant diners, IMO, will take consistent mediocrity over a 50-50 chance that they will have an outstanding meal -- and an equal chance that they will have an awful one -- at a restaurant they know nothing about. How to provide this hand-holding within the constrictions of a template that's as formulaic as a Harlequin romance without sounding boring and repetitive is the challenge. This discussion suggests that maybe the template needs to be discarded, but the economics of the newspaper biz probably militate against that.

Has this turned into a wereblog? Not that I'm suggesting anyone drive a stake through its heart or anything....

Philadelphia Inquirer economics columnist Andrew Cassel gave his readers a heads-up today on an intriguing new book by a local freelance journalist, Sasha Issenberg. The book's main subject is economic globalization, but the story is told through the evolution of a delicacy known only to the Japanese into what might be the first truly global dish--a popular item that incorporates ingredients from all over and is continually adapted to suit changing locales, tastes and times. If you wonder how "Philly roll" came to be part of the standard repertoire, this book will in all likelihood offer you clues why, even if that particular variety is never mentioned by name: The Sushi Economy: Globalization and the Making of a Modern Delicacy Andrew Cassel's column on the book Publication date is May 3. You can pre-order through eGullet's Amazon.com connection.

OK Sandy I'll hold you to it! Let me know when - I'm ready for this one again. ← Probably not until after April 10. I'm off to Seattle and San Francisco for a week starting 4/3. (Ask me for a photo of my niece. Go ahead, ask me.) I'll post and PM once I get back.

As far as I understood, the ideal method of cooking asparagus is indeed part-boiling, part-steaming. Because the base of an asparagus stalk is denser and more woody than the upper part, it should sit in boiling water to become tender. The tips, on the other hand, should be steamed lest they go limp. The compromise method I often use is to cook the asparagus with the bottom parts cut off in a cast-iron skillet with about a quarter inch of water. Bring the water to the boil, then add the asparagus; cover and cook for about 2-3 minutes. Again, neither "boiling" nor "steaming" quite describes this method, though it's closer to boiling, except the asparagus isn't completely immersed here either.

Look on the bright side! You've nailed your "5-A-Day" in one sitting! That leaves you free to consume anything else that strikes your fancy the rest of the day. Including more veggies, if that's what floats your boat.

Much better! I can hop on PATCO and be there in no time. I'm sure there will be an excursion?

I thought it was the best deal around when it was $21 p.p. At $17 it's a no brainer. Picanha's meats were more flavorful than Brasilia Grill in Newark. They use copius amounts of salt that I really like with very little present at Brasilia. While I was generally unimpressed with the salad bar, the meat is really why you should go for rodizio. My other complaint is that I too seemed to get a fair amount of well done meat, lots of it, but well done. I really don't like well done but I didn't want to wait for the next round. This place is fun and well worth going to as outlined in several posts upthread. ← Sounds like it's time for another visit, especially at that new low price! I can bring wine this time, I swear! The salad bar is most definitely a sideshow. But hey, they probably have to cut corners somewhere to keep the prices down. (Bottled dressing from the Save-a-Lot in the next block, for instance.) As long as the meat is good and plentiful; that's what counts. Oh, and maybe a Portuguese speaker to translate what's on TV Globo.

Move to Pennsylvania, Lindsay. This is one of a handful of states that have almost no restrictions on the sale of raw milk and raw milk cheese. (Other raw milk products may not be sold because the Pennsylvania Department of Agriculture has no established standards of identity for them.) The Agriculture Department requires raw milk producers to test their herds and their product regularly for a bunch of common bacteria. There have been no reported outbreaks of foodborne disease attributable to raw milk or raw milk products in the state that I'm aware of -- over several decades. The best Cheddar-style cheese I've ever eaten is a cave-aged, raw-milk cheese from grass fed cows produced in Lancaster County. Wanna read about it? Sales of raw milk and raw milk products are regulated by the states, not the Federal government. If you get enough like-minded people together, along with supportive farmers, you could try lobbying Springfield to change the laws. As for the minimum 60-day aging rule for soft-ripened cheeses, that is a Federal rule and thus one you can't get around, sad to say...but I did attend a talk at Penn a few years ago by a respected cheesemonger from New York who described ways people smuggle the good stuff into the country. I'm not aware of any rules that set UPPER limits on the amount of time a cheese can be aged. Recall the argument over the "10-year aged Gouda" over on the Cheese thread?

Well, if your trip takes you through Kansas City, you absolutely must stop at one of the city's better barbecue emporia. I've yet to try Oklahoma Joe's -- maybe the next time I visit -- and it postdates the years I lived there, but reports I've heard lead me to believe it's first-rate (47th and Mission Road, on the Wyandotte-Johnson county line in KCK). I was always partial to Gates' (Emmanuel Cleaver II Boulevard and the Paseo and five other area locations), and they've managed to keep up their quality, judging from my most recent visit. You should also visit for their trademark "Hi, may I help YOU?" greeting, shouted at top volume as you cross the threshold. Fiorella's Jack Stack in Overland Park (95th and Metcalf; also, 135th Street and Holmes Road in Martin City on the Missouri side) has first-rate burnt ends -- a Kansas City specialty. There are dozens more I can't even remember, and one I can: Bryant's (1727 Brooklyn Avenue and three other area locations), the one everyone outside KC has heard about, thanks to Calvin Trillin. It's no longer owned by the Bryant family, so I can't vouch for its quality now. There are also plenty of great non-barbecue restaurants in the area; the dining scene has improved immensely since the mid-1970s, when I left for college and for good. Current residents, I'm sure, can fill you in on those.

Shiki sure looks promising, the price is right, and it's not that far from Seattle Center ('62 World's Fair site). I could probably get a monorail ride in to boot. Belltown is where relative to: Westlake? Seattle Center? As a committed Reading Terminal Market shopper, obviously I have to stop by Pike Place Market. As I've been through one of those "FISH!" workplace motivational seminars, however, I don't feel a real need to see those fishmongers. The RTM and Pike Place Market grapple with some of the same issues; in fact, RTM GM Paul Steinke circulated a recent Seattle Post-Intelligencer story about the need for a major makeover at Pike Place prompting soul-searching to his RTM mailing list (yeah, I'm on it). I'm sure something can be arranged in the way of a get-together. Probably Thursday or Friday evening, or during the day if enough people can get free. I'll want to coordinate things with Sean first before getting in touch with folks.

A big Thank You to all of you for posting so many wonderful recommendations. You've been a lot more helpful (in both absolute numbers and proportion of the metro population) than the SFO/OAK denizens to whom I posed the identical request, which means that either San Franciscans are aloof or eating there is also crazy expensive. I do want to add one more request to my previous one. In addition to cheese, I also adore sushi and don't eat it as often as I'd like to. Philadelphia doesn't lack for sushi joints, but -- as occasional comments on the Pennsylvania board indicate when the subject comes up -- it has almost no excellent ones. One of the few in this category, Fuji Mountain in Cinnaminson, NJ, closed when the no-tell motel it was housed in was acquired for redevelopment; I recently had the pleasure of dining at a place that is almost in this league, Raw (check the Pennsylvania board for my comments on this nouveau sushi establishment). I've been told by sources I trust that Seattle has scads of excellent sushi places. I'd appreciate tips on the best of these, in any of the following three categories: money is no object; great value for your dining dollar (at any price range); cheap and fabulous.

I should note here that I am pleased with the performance of all three Kyoceras that I purchased: the ultra-thin fixed thickness (which is an older design), the julienne and the adjustable thickness. I'm guessing that there was a problem with the older design (which has shallower side walls) cracking, as my julienne model did; the replacement W-S gave me has deeper sides. Still, they perform very well and are attractively priced.