MarketStEl

My own take is that Starr really doesn't do romantic. If your guests would rather take in the show than be part of it, they could request a table on the balcony at Buddakan. I'd also suggest they try Striped Bass. Especially since Starr really didn't muck up that place's spectacular ambience all that much.

The big money's not from restaurant ads. It's from supermarkets. Wine is, at least in the big urban markets, a big source of income. Food products, cookware and appliances are often big advertisers. Increasingly cookbooks are too. These are all products that have built-in ad budgets that go to succesful food sections. ← Well, I guess that explains The Philadelphia Inquirer's food section. The Inky lost the supermarket trade several years back and has yet to successfully regain more than a token amount of supermarket advertising (a full-page ad for Acme or Pathmark on the back of one of the Sunday news sections, for instance). And, of course, given that we have a state monopoly on the sale of wine, no matter how wonderful the selection and prices are now, that also removes a source of revenue for the paper. But one feature that the Inquirer used to run--in the Business section--that I found interesting had to do with the economics of food, something I see no one on this thread has raised yet. It wasn't anything particularly sophisticated; in fact, it originated with the Associated Press, and the Inky took it over a few years before stopping it completely. That was the weekly "market basket survey." The survey compared the cost of purchasing a typical week's worth of groceries for a family of four at the area chains. Maybe one of the reasons the paper dropped the survey was because the relative placement of the chains did not vary much: The major chains did not move much more than one place up or down in the rankings over time. Based on those rankings, the dominant supermarket chain in the region remains dominant for a good reason: it was almost always the low price leader. This is relatively simple reporting on the economics of food, but something I consider useful nonetheless. As one who might be called a "value" shopper, I do not believe that the relationship between price and quality is linear and also believe that--as with other consumer goods--oftentimes people shell out gobs of money for nothing more than prestige or the illusion of same. Must this territory be the sole province of Consumer Reports?

Wait a minute. Provolone and Whiz? (Yes, I noticed that double-threat combo in the first picture.) Wouldn't these two either cancel each other out or induce a cheese coma, or maybe even both? BTW, usage note: "Wit" and "witout" are always the last words in the sequence. Neither refer to cheese. Cf. my current .sig quote, which is lifted from SEPTA's current and highly original ad campaign (saw the quote on a Broad Street Subway car card). Full disclosure: I am currently working at the agency responsible for the campaign. Wish I'd thought of it.

Actually, my 5-quart cast-iron stock pot came with a coating and was ready to use out of the box. I'm inclined to think that the stock I got out of it resulted not from interaction with the iron, but from reducing it at too high a temperature. (I had about 90 percent of the liquid I put into the Crock-Pot 12 hours later, but only half the liquid I had put into the cast-iron pot--actually, about one-third, considering that I had added another quart to my original 2 1/2 quarts halfway through the simmering. After going back through the eGCI stockmaking course--I really should read more and chat less here--I think the problem with the stovetop stock is the result of too high a temperature on the stove; I should have simmered the stock on Warm. (Recall that I said the milky liquid tasted heavily of turkey fat.) I'm also not sure that the "translucent" liquid I described above is an inappropriately simmered stock, judging from some of the pictures I saw in the course. I will post a photo of some of the stock I have sitting in the fridge when I get home, and you all can judge. I do think I should not be so aggressive about removing every last speck of meat from the bones, however. My Crock-Pot stock this time tasted more of vegetables than turkey, though adding some salt to it brought out more turkey flavor.

Thanks! I should add that they weren't on that grill for long--about 8 minutes total. I seared them on High for 1 minute per side, then turned the grill down to Medium for another 6 minutes. (I had to keep them warm on Low while the tortellini finished cooking; they might have cooked a little more on this setting, but my countertop grill's Low setting doesn't emit that much heat, so I don't think it had an adverse effect on the steaks.) To reveal a bit more about myself, and alluding back to your TV dinner, I scarfed my plate down while watching "The O'Reilly Factor," followed by "My Name Is Earl."

Sorry I didn't read your post prior to fixing Thanksgiving Day dinner, Diva. I might have gone ahead with my usual practice and stuffed the bird anyway. Instead, I prepared a box of Bell's Stuffing using leftover chicken stock in place of the water and left it in the cast-iron stock pot. I then cooked the bird exactly as Alton Brown had instructed: no stuffing, no basting, 500F for the first half hour, then cover the breast with foil and roast at 325F for the next five. At about four hours, I added some of the pan juices from the turkey to the stuffing, covered the pot, and put it in the oven. The bird looked gorgeous. And the breast meat wasn't all dried out either. The stuffing was almost as good. There were two problems: it had scorched on the bottom and sides, where it came in contact with the pot, and it was a little moister than I wanted it, though far from mushy or soggy. I think the problems would have been remedied by putting the stuffing in the oven only while the turkey was resting (about 20-30 minutes) and leaving the pot uncovered. I could always add more pan juices if it was getting too dry. The interesting thing about the stuffing was that this particular brand's packaging makes it clear that it is intended for cooking inside the bird. Yet the bread crumbles were small enough that I don't think it would have turned out badly at all cooked on the stove top.

Actually, Fifi, that tells me a lot. For starters, I have the heat up too high. After about four hours on High, the Crock-Pot stock simmers with frequent bubbles. The stock pot set on Low had many small bubbles rising through the liquid. On Warm, it hardly bubbled at all, which I thought was too low. I understand it should be just under the boil, right? That would also explain why I never had anything to skim off the top of the stock, which I understand I should have. (I also need to get a finer sieve than the one I have right now.) Sounds like I should have the Crock-Pot on Low and the stove on Warm next time.

Way back on the 16th, I had posted over in my thread about cooking tuna steaks that I had succeeded in producing grilled tuna steaks that were not dry as dust yet cooked through. I had cut them to half their original thickness, then marinated them in a mixture of olive oil, garlic and spices that a poster on the thread had recommended. Then I grilled them on my countertop grill: and served them with peas and tortellini tossed in olive oil and Parmesan cheese. The pea-hating roommate got okra instead: The steaks were completely cooked through, not rare at all. And they were not completely dried out. I have to call this a success, though a modest one.

Now that's what I call a TV dinner! --Sandy, who dines in this fashion often as well, only with slightly less sophisticated fare and tray tables

As usual after preparing a large turkey--which I now do twice a year, at Thanksgiving and Christmas--I strip the bird as completely as I can and toss the bones into my Crock-Pot to make a stock. The problem was, this year, the bones from the 22-pound bird I prepared were too big to all fit in the Crock-Pot. So I split them between the slow cooker and a 5-quart cast-iron pot I have. I added a carrot, a rib of celery and a small sliced onion to each, added water to cover plus some, sprinkled some Old Bay over both, then turned the Crock-Pot to High and set the burner under the stockpot to Low. After about 12 hours, during which I added another quart of water to the stock pot, I had the usual grayish-brown translucent liquid, tasting of turkey and veggies, in the Crock-Pot. Adding a little salt to it made it just about perfect. Meanwhile, the cast-iron pot was about half-full of a milky yellowish-white liquid that tasted heavily of turkey fat and was a little saltier than the other stock. Not at all what I think of when I hear the word "stock." Can someone tell me what I did wrong with the stovetop batch?

Well, these may not be terribly original or inventive, but I like to make a homemade blue cheese dip--not dressing--at least once during the holidays. I usually combine an 8-ounce package of softened cream cheese with the same amount of blue cheese, a half pint of sour cream and a teaspoon of onion powder, and mix them together with an immersion blender. Or I might just whip up some chipotle mayonnaise. Maybe tossing some cream cheese in might make the consistency a little thicker.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, Brooks, for posting that link to the Justin Wilson web site. My dad loved Justin Wilson and used to listen to his stories all the time. I still remember a very funny one about two men, one of whom was about to send his daughter off to college at "SM&U". The other fellow asked him why he didn't send her to "LUS". "Did you know that at SM&U, the boy and the girl share the same curriculum?"..."And did you know that at SM&U, they let the male professormen examine the girl's thesis?"..."And what's worse, at SM&U the boy and the girl matriculate together." (It's funnier hearing it in Wilson's voice, which is playing in my head as I type this.) He also once told me that we had relatives in Louisiana--some aunts that apparently became lost to the family--but what little I know about Cajun cuisine comes from him. However: I can't find anything on the site pertaining to Worcestershire sauce. Is his version of the legend available online? Or did I just not drill down far enough?

Appearances to the contrary notwithstanding, I am not following myself up. With the permission of the sender, I am posting a reply I received in e-mail to my post in which I said, among other things: Market Blooms owner Steve DeShong wrote me the following note: I found this note useful because I was under the impression that the limited hours for the Amish section had to do with some sort of religious stricture. Certainly the commute time from Lancaster County has nothing to do with it, for it is no shorter on Monday or Tuesday than it is on any of the other days of the week. As for the lunch vendors, unless they have a takeout business or sell ingredients or other items for use off-site, I don't think that I would require them to keep the same hours as all other Market merchants if I were Paul, given how the dining cycle breaks down. If they did want to remain open for dinner the way Jack McDavid does, though, I would certainly try to take steps to make that possible. (McDavid's diner is located on either side of one of the Filbert Street entrances to the Market, so it is easy to cordon off his space after the rest of the Market is closed. Except for the eateries on the 12th Street side, there is no similarly easy solution for the other prepared-foods vendors/dining spots at the Market.

Let's start you off easy with those little cucumber or watercress sandwiches served on crustless thin rounds of white bread. I believe these are often called "tea sandwiches." Get the hang of those, and you'll be Lunchin' in no time!

An excellent excuse to pick up a six of Red Stripe to go with your jerk chicken! (Our out-of-town visitors might find acutally buying the Red Stripe frustrating, though, thanks to this state's peculiar system for selling beer. You'd end up either paying more than you ought to for a six-pack at a take-out food store--try the Foodery at 10th and Pine if you actually decide to try this--or having to buy a case from a beer distributor.)

The biggest bird I've ever cooked was about 21 lbs, and I've found that the breast-side-down method produces good results. But I wanted to ask about that high-heat-to-start, then low-and-slow method. Alton Brown touted this on an episode of "Good Eats" that was recently repeated in time for Turkey Day. His instructions were 500F for 30 minutes, then down to 350 for the remainder, tent the breast with foil, don't flip the bird, and skip the stuffing. My problem: I love stuffing, and I love the flavor it gets when it absorbs juices from the bird. I understand that current fashion is to leave the bird unstuffed, as the stuffing may not reach a high enough temperature inside the bird, but what do I do to get that flavor then? Add pan juices to the mix and bake it while the bird sits? Something else? And is it possible to cook a bird by the high-then-low method with stuffing inside?

Has there been any research into whether cheese contains stimulants or hormones that increase alertness or stuff that heightens your ability to focus or some other miracle compound? That now makes two confirmed cheeseaholics-on-deadline. I sometimes fall into this category. However, here at the office, it's coffee all the way.

For starters, I recommend packing comfortable walking shoes. Center City Philadelphia is eminently walkable, with many of the places you'd want to visit within a 20-minute walk of any hotel. But if I had to pick one part of Center City to stay in, it would be Old City. Here you are close to the greatest concentration of restaruants and nightspots in Center City and right on top of the Historic Square Mile. City Hall is about a mile to the west. Your lodging choices include the Sheraton Society Hill, Independence Park Inn, Holiday Inn Independence Mall and Omni Independence Park. There's also the Society Hill Hotel B&B, but that's on top of a rather busy bar and restaurant. The Holiday Inn is probably the most reasonably priced of the four and the Independence Park Inn the most charming. There are also several hotels right around City Hall, most of them Marriotts. If you've ever wanted to spend the night in a world-famous skyscraper, book a room at the Loews Philadelphia Hotel, which is the former PSFS building, the landmark International Style skyscraper built in 1932. As for the restaurants: Only three? As my tastes are modest, and I haven't eaten at many of the hot new BYOBs that folks around here absolutely rave about, I'm going to suggest you defer to some of the other people who will respond for your dinners, but for the lunch, you absolutely must drop by the Reading Terminal Market. Among the plethora of fresh food vendors are several really good prepared food merchants, and any one of the following will prove highly satisfying: --Little Thai Market (very good, very fast Thai dishes) --Salumeria (among the best hoagies in town, and some of the most original) --Dienner's Bar-B-Q (a Pennsylvania Dutch treat--great rotisserie chicken) --Mezze (Mediterranean) --DiNic's (Tony Luke's it ain't, but it's a good roast pork sandwich anyway) I'm assuming that your stay will be on a weekend. If your lunch is slated for a Sunday, strike the RTM from your list; if it's on a Monday or Tuesday, Dienner's won't be open, as the Pennsylvania Dutch merchants operate from Wednesday through Saturday only. I guarantee you, there is nothing like this in New York.

Quite an impressive list, and a Herculean achievement. I was surprised, though, to see that the American Food & Wine (an American Express publication) wasn't on the list. Here's the link: Food & Wine (US)

Anything you say, Ellen. I'm resisting the temptation. My efforts at virtuous eating are always tempered by tossing in some vice, usually in the form of a dairy product. I switch from potato chips to carrot sticks, but keep the onion dip, for instance. These are also common last-minute, type-furiously-in-front-of-the-computer fare.

In the circles I travel in, the lads do Sunday brunch, not lunch. The men even take over the city's lone lesbian club at Sunday brunch, so ingrained is this ritual in gay male culture here. Back to the ladies: In Philadelphia, the Ladies Who Lunched did so at the Crystal Tea Room on the ninth floor of the old John Wanamaker department store. (Trivial aside: I am currently a part-time proofreader at an ad agency located on the 24th floor of One South Broad, a skyscraper erected by Mr. Wanamaker in the late 1920s (originally called the Victory Building). The street floors once housed his men's store; the 25th floor--also part of the agency's office space now--was his personal apartment.) Wanamakers having long since been sold, and the nine-story, million-square-foot-plus store radically downsized to a three-story Lord & Taylor, the Crystal Tea Room is no longer open to LWLs, though you are certainly welcome to have your next wedding or corporate meeting there. L&T has installed a smaller cafe on their third floor, overlooking the seven-story-high Great Court in its center. I suspect that it gets a few LWLs now, but more can probably be found closer to Rittenhouse Square, where all the tonier shops decamped after Chestnut Street went into a retail coma circa 1983. If you'd like to see some of these places, and you happen to be in Philadelphia, let me know. You can "Meet Me at the Eagle."

Mabel Mercer does a wonderful rendition of this song, which is among my favorites. Bette Midler, a pop performer who I by and large adore, wrecked it with her overly brassy rendition. It's supposed to be tasteful and decorous and understated, dont'cha know?

Looks like I might have the scratch to participate. I'll confirm later this evening if I do. Anyone able to offer a lift? PM me.

Girlfriend! That sounds like my shopping style. There used to be a maintenance guy in my apartment building--a huge fellow named "Tiny," natch--who summed up this attitude better than anyone else I've run across: "I see grocery shopping as me vs. the supermarket: Who's going to walk away with more of my money?" He had a savings target of 40% that he shot for. If he surpassed it, he bought himself a drink afterwards. I also clip coupons relentlessly and use my kitchen pantry as an extension of the supermarket, filling it with nonperishables when they're on sale. I've even managed to exceed 40% savings on more than a few occasions at Acme (never at Super Fresh), though my performance on average fluctuates between 25% and 33%. (I consider it a good day at the Super Fresh if I hit 33%--for some reason, it puts fewer of the items I buy regularly on sale.) I even notice this phenomenon--daily food shopping, that is--at the Super Fresh, where the 5 to 6:30 p.m. time period can get almost as busy as Saturday afternoon, only the shoppers have smaller orders. Those stores are found on the Main Line and in Chestnut Hill around here. The Center City supermarkets are left to the urban sophisticates and art/medical-school students.

As I mentioned earlier, I would be surprised if any other vendor at the RTM comes close to Rick's margins. ← Nice story, and well balanced. It doesn't surprise me at all that the Market's own history and traditions are proving to be a stumbling block in the current management's efforts to keep it healthy and true to its mission. I've noticed over the years that Philadelphians seem deeply resistant to sudden or radical changes in time-honored practices or traditions, whether those practices and traditions are good or harmful. A lot of the changes Paul Steinke is advocating strike me as nothing particularly onerous. If the market is going to be open from 8 to 6 six days a week, then the merchants within it should be as well. (Yes, exceptions for the Amish should continue, and I'd also make an exception for the restaurant-only vendors, whose business is almost all lunch except for Jack McDavid, whose Down Home Diner already stays open past regular Market hours.) I agree that what is being done here is an effort to manage the market more like a shopping mall. But mission aside, that is exactly what the market is: a shopping mall for food lovers. It doesn't have to keep the same hours Whole Foods does, but its merchants should keep uniform hours. Mall owners and other farmers' market operators strive for what they consider an optimal mix of tenants; why shouldn't the RTM? "Nonprofit" ought not mean "money-loser."