jess mebane

Happy Sunday, and praise the skies for such a wet spring! My lanky, teenaged tomatoes have just now set fruit, and the strawberries grow slightly faster than the snails can find them. I think I will have to google for pix of male and female squash parts, as the blossoms come and go without much ever coming of it. Sort of a freshman mixer in that corner of the garden.

We've had two strawberries thus far, and lots of lettuce. Is anyone else sick of rushing baby tomato plants in and out of shelter against the infernal weather fluctuation? Must be April.............

I just gotta kno, Sethromybro, is that marjoram or thyme atop your confection? I would just like to dedicate this morning's lemon bars to Joanne Chang at Flour bakery; thanks for posting when those bastards at Taunton's tried to gatekeep your recipe. Your curd is the wurd, JC.

Ahhh, the first Shiner in Texas. I envy you that, friend. I never wanted a tattoo, but if MOM, the Marines or a Boy Named Sue had an inky needle gun to my head, it'd still have to be a teensy Shiner bottle on the ankle for me. Pity it weren't a balmy Friday in August.

No, Ah dew believe that would be somewhat analogous to throwing out the baby with the bathwater, et non? Just asking since I saw that in a receipt not long ago.........

'body else have an elderly female relative that swore you had to have 3 types of greens in the pot for good luck? I'm most partial to mustard greens, but always felt a little guilty about omitting the collard and turnips....... My real question is, if you simmer your hocks first and separate from the greens, do you then throw out the water in which it was boiled and then add greens with fresh, or no?

I like the boys behind the burled woodie at Roaring Fork in the old Stephen F. Austin. They're unfailingly nice, helpful and RF's half price appy/bar menu is nothing to sneeze at, either. neither?

Once or twice I've taken a moment to re-read parts of this thread over the years, and it never fails to make me happy. Thank you, gardening foodie friends.

SEE! RRIGHT THERE IS A LESSON FOR ALL THE KIDDIES: Excessive mary use leads to ummm............. ..............Oh Yes! Exessive short term memory loss! Pardon me whilst I mosey back over to the cheese sexion.

god, twenty years ago someone in the group announced, "if you wrap cream cheese around a marshmallow, it's like, instant cheesecake." Cut to four losers in Motherdear's kitchen attempting to 'wrap cream cheese' around things..........we soon gave up and went back to eating ice cream sammiches and imbibing cold duck with spackled fingers. There was a good week for cold duck in April of '87, as I recall

There was this mishmoose-y thing at my fave spec. foods store that resembled nothing so much as a heavenly layer cake slice of gorgonzola and mascarpone. Said spec. foods store is out of said heavenly layer cake mishmoose, and I am reduced to making my own frankenstein fromage out of desperation. Hellp meee............

← Here, Here! I'm finishing up Serve, and looking forward to more spirited discussion about the next text, neighbors. And to the gent or lady upthread who mentioned the 'level of vitriput... [sic] usually reserved for the likes of Rachel [sic-er] Ray', I say, "Pshaw!!" You should have seen the bloodbath we had over poor ol' Jeff Smith a few years ago.....

Chexbres Chexbres Chexbres. ...................................... Do you remember reading "Fifty Million Snails", Rachel? Have you ever snail-hunted? (Snails, not snipes. ) I did it once, one year, a long time ago. A real thing, a good and interesting thing to do. ← Me and two of the small men went a' snail shell hunting Monday, and the boys named them all Gary (perfidious SpongeBSQP!). I still woulda schpeared 'em out and eaten them with lovely greeny butter, had they been home at the time..... I called that guy Chexmix in my head, and haven't had a problem since.... Now I'm reading the bit about the absence of palate, and it seems to describe roughly half of my porcine in-laws to a tee, more's the pity. I also understand now some of that thinking, or lack thereof, when I'm just indiscriminately stuffing me gullet because I "like the feeling of a full stomach" that Fisher refers to. SCARY! My own mother likes to commiserate on my expanding waistline by remarking rather acidly that I "have married into a group of people that define themselves by food", which is sadly mistaken when I think how I'm the one that loves my own cooking and smuggles hard tack to the in-laws' and my mother's house. I think I'm rambling around a point that this book, so far, makes me appreciate how much I think about food, no matter what the physical consequence, no?

Gosh, that's harder to pin down than I thought, KR, but I would echo your sentiment that she writes in English with a decidedly Gallic assurance, almost as if you can see her toss an arrogant shrug after this or that sentence. I read When A Man as a mother of small men, of course, and it finishes like a grim elegy of misspent youthful appetites. Then you go on to the vomitoria section of Garum and begin to feel sheepish when reading the line, "As Rome festered and decayed, the fever for fine eating mounted." Chocolate fountains at Costco, anyone?

I used to live in Clearwater and commute (ha!) to St. Pete for work. Ted Peter's is great for the smoked fish. There was also a great Italian date night place on one of the causeways back thru Indian Rocks, I believe. Mangrove Grill was good the last time we were there, and the staff could not have been more accomodating, even tho we were probably next to last through the door. If you'd like to wend your way down to Clearwater beach from St. Pete, a person can do no better than Frenchy's (not surfside, but around the way from the last surf shop before Carlouel). Their blackened grouper sandwich is achingly fresh and while you wait for that, have the smoked fish dip with a large pitcher of red sangria. This concoction is hand-muddlemashed for you by one of the sassy gals behind the bar, and well worth the abuse! One of their chef's makes a hot sauce (Fisher's Fire, perhaps?) that really jazzes up the smoked fish.

I was going to ask if any of you think there's a difference in the way men and women react to MFKF's writing, but I guess that at least partially answers my question? Doesn't this make her writing all the more powerful though? SB (Shakespeare may very well have been a real jerk?) ← Well, I must say the mind spins at all this revelatory discussion of the woman's faults, but I have to set most of it aside to read the book first or else I won't enjoy what's on the page. I had the same problem with Miles Davis, Styron and several other lesser mortals that also happened to be genius in their craft. And Shakespeare, whose works I minored in a million years ago, was a flaming misogynistic bastard.............with a neat turn of phrase, so wot ya gonna do?

I must say, after the lady seems to haunt this space like some benevolent ghostie or scent of lilies in an abandoned hall, I dashed out to get a copy of AOE if only to see what the fuss was about. Of course, Fisher had me at the opening paragraph: When a man is small, he loves and hates food with a ferocity which soon dims. At six years old his very bowels will heave when such a dish as creamed carrots or cold tapioca appears before him. ...He cannot eat; he says "To hell with it!" This, my friends is life at the Mebane dinner table at its rueful best. I look forward to the rest of this book with great anticipation! If eGullet were to have an online book club, it could do no better than to start here, and I thank y'all for bringing it up!

I've mentioned this many times over the years, but the spouse's family is from Lockhart, and when we tried to rehab the ancestral home several years ago, a big highlight of the day was guessing where lunch came from based on the color of butcher paper in which it was wrapped. I have always said previously that for fatty and lean you must stand in line at Kreuz's, but for chops, rings and the best prime rib it is better to go back to the fire at Smitty's. NOW, after having a holiday brisket from Luling City Market, I have to reconsider my opinion and say for the record that you should only have lean or fatty from those good folks there. I tip my winter felt to anyone that can make me and mine step away from the Lockhart BBQ and know the real winner. Can meat be so, ambrosia-ish, or am I too far gone in the carnivore way? tsk! C'est la guerre.. ...

Yes, but isn't it marvelous that there are no 'musts' to your sense of passion for food and cooking? It's like eGullet and my own kitchen are both unapologetically unfashionable, and never happier than when we're elbowing one another to get to the last clear space of countertop in this narrow galley. For the sharing of opinions recipes and food, I'll take old salts in small spaces any day, and God bless us every one!

I spoke with all the loved ones this morning for New Years' felicitations, and those that received cookies from me were pleased with the pecan sandies and the taste, if not appearance, of the macaroons. Abra and Chefpeon, what did I do wrong? My macs were lovely puffed for a day, then fell in the tins to mooshy sweet globs....

How I love holiday cheese offerings! I stood at the kitchen counter last nite and growled at any small offspring that came close to my selection: a thin cake slice of mascarpone/gorgonzola mishmoose delice' triple creme the stripey jack thing from Britain wisconsin cheddar--total letdown, BTW. good ol' Swedish fontina Honestly, the array of breads, crackers and toast both Melba and wheat boule were just a way for me to distract others from my cheese. Is that wrong? Happy New Year!

There's a really decent sparkling display east of the Reidel glasses for $7 that I recommend you gift all your hostesses with. Better be a few left for me tomorrow, or I'm sunk! Veuve de Vernay, Blanc de Blanc, $7. French. Hell, for that price, get one for yourself and don't forget the OJ...............

In the spirit of the season, I feel compelled to add that if you have received a family Xmas card with poem, sketch or other piece of art from a dead relative, you're whistlin' in Dixie, friend.

Baby, you musta done pissed of yo mamma to get a bowl of mush--shooow-wee! Make amends, and head for pie.

(Said with an annoying drawl): depending on your desired effect, it's all about the light and dark Karo, and remember to rough chop your pecans. Dunno 'bout the bourbon and/or chockie; I tends to keep my hooch in the glass where it belongs. Happy Sticky!