racheld
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Posts posted by racheld
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One of my earliest memories is of sitting in the sunshine outside my great-aunt's little grocery store, in that Mississippi heat. Daddy sat on an upended wooden Co-Cola case, I sat on another, as he opened and distributed dripping salty olives with the tip of his pocket knife---one for him, one for me.
The little narrow bottle held perhaps fifteen, I think, and we ate every one. I buy lovely glistening ones now, dipped from various brines in the big store, ladling them into the plastic containers. We love all the brown and the gold and the green piccolines, the cling of pepper and the garnish of garlic; we serve them scattered on Caprese, in little containers distributed along the table, in their store-bought clamshells for a picnic.
And occasionally I happen upon one of those small, cylindrical bottles of the green ones, salty and rich with their little tongue of pimiento, and I take it home, hear the tunnnk as I twist open that lid, and enjoy it, just for the remembering.
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This thread is very disturbing.
I blink every time I pass your name on a thread---I won a spelling bee once with its alternative. I often spelled it to myself as a jumprope mantra.
And I DOOOOO have one!! Just like feedmecOOkies, I make fillings fit the bread, breaking just an infinitesimal piece of cheese off a fresh slice, or cutting a little triangle of ham from a whole piece. You don't wanna watch when I'm jigsaw-puzzling cheese onto the top of a casserole!!
DGD gets ten black olives whenever she eats with us. She puts them on her fingers and makes jazz-hands for a moment, then eats them. (And she's grown so, I'm gonna have to buy a bigger SIZE---some of these split as she stuck them on
)Her baby sister, age three, piped up, "Sissy, your fingers look like tree-frog toes!"
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Easy. In the South, you FRY it.
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Good luck to all you pantry purgers. I wish I had a walk in pantry. I'm starting to eye the small third bedroom...heaven help me...
Down here is THE ROOM, home of all things unused, unwanted, unhonored, and unsung. You just open the door, sigh, and close it again, fearful for your life. It should be a fifth BR, but everybody needs a THAT DRAWER and a THE ROOM for the detritus which would drown us otherwise. It's gonna be a cool pantry, soon.
I'm trying to have one, really I am. My "real" pantry is an adjunct to the laundry room, an alcove that's bumped back under the stairs, so one side IS stair-shaped (that's where the dead old water-softener lives---it came with the house and hasn't done a lick of work in the ten years we've lived here). The other side has a nice set of white-painted plank shelves, so deep you forget what's back there. I think they walled off the alcove front, made a door-sized door, and didn't take into account that you'd have to have a yardstick to rake stuff toward you. Sometimes I have to go get the LONG barbeque tongs, grab, and dodge whatever avalanches out.
I'm gonna have a look tomorrow, when I can drag great bags and jars and Tupperwares out and set them on the washer and dryer and freezer. We may end up with a sardine/raisin/Clabber Girl/Altoid/tapioca/bulgur risotto for supper, but that's the way the stale cookie crumbles.
moire non
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I stand in awe and admiration.
I'll probably still be standing here tomorrow, cause I'm scared to go look in the pantry.
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Well, communication is still open, it's still snowy here, and going back into these sunny pages is a delight. I've wanted to ask: Will you write the pronunciation of your city?
I love saying the syllables of the old names, feeling them on my tongue like a sweet drink. And you've made Ashkelon sweet and warm and welcoming.
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This all sounds plumb scrum-diddly-umptious!!
I just got in on the last page of this thread, but when I have time to read it all, there will be some G.R.I.T.S. honors going out all over the world.
Looks like you'll all have to line up like a Moonie wedding. This is too splendid for words---good cooks all.
P.S. How many black skillets involved?
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You're still receiving this snowy Tuesday, so Thank You for all the wonderful Journey you've conducted us on. It's been a lovely week. Unforgettable.
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I have been trying to do this for a couple of months now. On my list of things to use up :
1) a huge bottle of red palm oil
2) a bag of urad beans
3) half a bag of split urad beans
4) almost a full bag of glutinous rice flour
5) half a bag of sour tapioca flour
6) half a huge box of couscous
7) a jar of quinoa crisps
8) about a ton of masa harina
9) a big container of frozen celeriac
10) a big container of frozen adzuki beans
11) a bunch of frozen bean burgers and falafel
12) several bottles of champagne and a couple of bottles of wine
I am making very slow progress.
I'm ready for Spring, as well, but chiming in to say I just LOVE knowing someone with a list like this!!! Makes me feel so worldly and sophisticated.
rachel of the four bags of dried beans, five kinds of rice, some canned anchovies, three packs of Martha White cornbread mix and wishing the BIG refrigerator jar of kimchee were celeriac
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On the other hand, Necco wafers can only be eaten one at a time.
After crinkling open the packet and taking out the black ones. And tossing the two on each side that might have touched. There's just something transferrable about that dusty powder that conveys the licorice taste to its neighbors.
And I LOVE fennel and basil and anise stars in stuff---just no black lickrish.
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fried on both sides:
Shakshukhah: fried onions-lots, fried tomatoes, squash the tomatoes add some tomatoe sauce,ground coriander, parsley, paprikah, salt and pepper. The add eggs and cook till they are your way!
It's KENT GRAVY!!! That's an old family recipe in Chris' Dad's family. I managed to sit down with almost all the cooks in the family to tell me some recipes, and how they came about. One of the sisters told me about going to see another sister on a stormy night. The lights went out, but they were invited to eat with the family. Aunt B said it was just delicious, and asked what it was, since it was hard to see by the kerosene lamp.
Other Aunt B said it was a recipe from HER husband's mother, from the 1910 era.
All the above, save the coriander, and in her words: "An egg or two per person broken in, lid on til they're how you like 'em."
They always served it over toast, biscuits (Southern biscuits---flour, buttermilk, shortening, risen high and golden), or cornbread. Small world.
And your Malawach looks marvelous.
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"It's SQUARE FISH, Phyllis, OK?"
R.I.P. Alice Ghostley
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How many at table?---looks like quite a crowd. Is this traditional Friday night, and you all always gather there, or was this a gathering of the family just for you to show us?
All the food looks hearty and delicious, and the Corelle quite familiar---that's Chris' favorite. But I could not DREAM of putting a nicely-molded dish of rice onto a plate---all the little bits and briblets that would fall onto the cloth---my, my.
This just looks spectacular. And what is the beautiful large vessel atop the cabinet in the background---looks like a shiny hot-pot. Is the after-dinner coffee strong and sweet, and the tea fragrant with mint?
One more thing---I Googled jachnun and it said "left overnight in the oven" and eaten on Saturday, since no appliances can be turned on then. Does that apply to coffeemakers of any type?
Thank you for sharing your family with us. I wish you were MY DIL.
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AHHHH. The Seattle Syrup Shuffle.
If it's not too personal a question for all the one-thing-at-a-time-til-it's-gone people, do you turn your plate, or do you just move to the next thing?
The only person I've ever eaten with who liked to eat that way was my Sister's Ole Miss roommate---she sat with her left hand draped languidly across the napkin in her lap, eating all of six o'clock.
Left hand up, fork down. Finger-and-thumb at four and eight, turn plate clockwise til next item was at six, hand to lap, and so on til the clock was empty. It was the neatest, most efficient dinner I'd ever seen. Neat as in NEAT. We always ate family style---who'da thought? and I never noticed if the food was spooned onto the plate in a particular order. Does anybody have a place for everything?
And for the don't-touch afficionados: Do you eat a bite of this and then a bite of that? Never some of two things in your mouth at once? And one more thing: Does a PB&J require three plates? I knew a child who required that, and that's the only thing I ever saw him eat.
And how about at hotel dinners, weddings, etc.---do you eat what comes out from under that little silver cover? Or do you leave it because something is touching? Would it be feasible to, say, cut that teensy whisper of hollandaise off the filet mignon? Would the bacon wrap be OK?
This is fascinating, a little glimpse of endearing (and enduring) habits.
Then there WAS my Sister's neighbor in Texas---she had to turn around once for each year of her age, before sitting in her dining chair. That was back in the 80's, and I guess her food may be getting cold by now.
Edited cause I did a Quayle on Afficionados
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I agree about the worthwhile things, and tuning in here every day is certainly one of them.
You all BRIGHT me.
We've used the pots MANY times---DS#2, who had a reading tutor for several years and calls 'em as he sees 'em, took a look at the name on the lid, and said just the other day, "Are we gonna cook the pot roast in the Licoricey pot?"
They DO make a killer pot roast in or out of the oven---these are REDDD, a deep cherry coughdrop red that is cheery on the shelf. And on my black stove with her pretty red handles---so pretty.
PS. I'm Ganjin; Nana is one of their other Grandmothers.
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When I have waffles, I MUST put a tiny bit of syrup in each little square. Can't eat it without it.
susan
In one of those little "farm women's" magazines, there's a "cute kids' sayings" column. One lady said her grandson requests waffles every time he spends the night, and wants "syrup in all the hotels."
And I agree-no vacant hotels on mine.
ETA: Chris sometimes mentions "Uncle Frank" when we have a dish of mayo on the table. A quart jar of Blue Plate lived on their oilcloth-covered kitchen table, along with the spooner full of silverware, the molasses jug, the thin, waffly paper napkins in a plastic rooster's back, and the ketchup.
ANY meal, Thanksgiving, Sunday Dinner, or plain old supper at home---Uncle Frank would help himself to some of everything, cut his meat into bite-size pieces, and stir everything together, careful not to spil a pea or grain of corn off onto the tablecloth.
Then, he'd take a clean spoon, get a dollop of the mayo out of the jar, clop it down in the middle, then stir everything together AGAIN before taking the first bite. I try to think of it as having a nice many-temperature salad every meal, but gravy and mayo
---okra and mayo 
. At least he'd leave a nice fried drumstick be. Didn't even dip it. -
Us, too!!! Spring break is coming, and we'll be transporting Granddaughter #1 one way or the other to/from Georgia. I can just SMELL the smoke!
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I wanna be a BALABOOSTA!!
Though, if you could see my dining room right now, you wouldn't eat my cooking. The glass table is covered in thick terry towels, with the entire guts of a HUGE computer-being-built spread around, with two immense black monitors and all the other detritus of getting it together.
I haven't had breakfast or lunch, and all this Nigella bread and gruff, rumpled pita and the bubble-popped tops of the spongy lachuch and that pot of stew!!!
And it has okra and what looks like collards!!
I could bestow some major G.R.I.T.S. Girl honors for that one. And dumplin's in it, too.The rugelach back a few posts---I had wondered what it was WAY back on another page---it looked so much like croissants, but not buttery ones---the shiny dark circlings make the bin look as if it's full of immense striped-tail hornets. I'm accustomed to the smaller, folded apricot versions, but those are SO tempting.
This is one of the most atmospheric blogs of all time. I'm really there; can you be homesick for somewhere you've never been?
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Oh, Dear Lord.
Caro gave me that 7+ one for Christmas last year. Plus the BIGGG stock/pasta pot.
I'm appalled at the prices. I never knew.
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I meant to ask---of course everyone wants the best price, the most perfect produce---but is that altered or increased by the import of the Shabbat meal? I know that all care is taken, and all things are done reverently and by ritual, but do people increase their demand for the "best" on this special occasion, because of the religious nature of the meal?
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"Fresh from the morning!" What a wonderful way to express the goodness of the food---those fancypants menu writers with all their high-flown adjectives and descriptions would do well to use just that one, enticing phrase.
I thought for a moment the vendor was bending over a Decker melon, a local delicacy which sings its siren call only during July, and beckons with yearnings all the rest of the year. They're almost that big, and you'd laugh to see me bending over into the box, trying to one-hand one of those heavy basketballs out whilst I grip the box grimly for balance.
I'd LOVE to stroll that market, to smell the fresh green of it, and the spices, the tickle of mint and the musk of rolled rugs too long unsold. I'd take every one of those yard-long onions, gathering the sheaves up like Kim's nap-cats, just for the having of them.
And I love that there's shade in places---it's sad to see the midday or the afternoon vegetables, languishing their morning-fresh away in the sun. What a day this must be, with all the activity and calling and the gathering of good things to eat.
Thank you for this glimpse, from the greenness and the lush fruit to the sassy boy and the jarring SpongeBob underpants---a whole world set out on tables, waiting for you to come and buy.
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I was just reminded by a post by prasantrin in this week's Ashkelon blog---The Journey, the seafood restaurant where the whole family went the week before the birthday itself had a takoyaki station, where a chef gracefully flipped and turned those magical little rolls of dough.
It's been interesting to me since the posts and pictures about it last year, and we also saw Bourdain eating them in one of his travels.
It was just fascinating to watch, seeing the flat panful brimming with a single little lake, then being divided into sections by his busy sticks, and then into perfect little golden balls of savory octopus and other seafood (and some sweet flavors---is that in any way authentic---wouldn't be tako by name any more?).
Chris loved it, and I liked watching all that batter ballet, with such a beautiful and tasty ending. I try to imagine how just the right shape and conformation of pan came about, and how it was ever imagined that you could take a puddle of floury paste, smudge it around with chopsticks over heat for a bit, and end up with perfect spheres, all the same size, every time.
Maybe it's the idea of Gucci hushpuppies that I find so charming.
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These HAVE to be persimmons, not tomatoes. My love affair with just the LOOK of the fruit cannot have dwindled so far as to cloud my recognition this much.
But the shine---I'm so accustomed to the velvety haze that clouds each one on the tree, and I would have thought this market to be closer to open-air market than one of the SUPERmarket kind which washes and polishes the life and taste out of things. Even if you do not eat them, please buy just one, and set it into a pretty bowl in the sunlight. That brightens a table better than a Waterford chandelier.
Now to go back and catch up on all this wonderful journey.
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Oh, thank you for the generous welcome, but I think you're welcoming Rebecca263's daughter, known as Kiddle. She's a sweetheart, just like her Mom, and GORGEOUS.
And you'd be an honored guest around the percolator---it's doing its little song every morning between seven/eight and ten or so.
I love the idea of a Garden of Eden plant---pictures?
PS Do those dining chairs roll?---we have a set just like them.
Get Over it!
in Food Traditions & Culture
Posted
That's what you call the stuff in the little glass bottles that have been fished from the the hand-freezing ice-water bath they've been in since the store opened this morning.
Also the best depository for a bag of salty Planters peanuts.