Jaymes

and being at the boiling point (as in ready to jump into bed with someone).Or to strip off all your clothes and leap up onto a horse with one of Pancho Villa's most dashing captains and gallop en flagrante delicto off into the sunset. As did Tita's other sister.

Actually, the tears went into the wedding cake that Tita was making for the marriage of her sister to Pedro, her own true love.Ahhh, I sit corrected. I wasn't sure while I was writing it. So was it the soup that was the uber-aphrodisiac? No. That was the Quail in Rose Petal Sauce (can y'all tell I've found my book?). That recipe calls for "12 roses, preferably red." Pedro had picked a large bouquet of roses for Tita and she, overcome with joy and passion, "clasped the roses to her chest so tightly that when she got to the kitchen, the roses, which had been mostly pink, had turned quite red from the blood that was flowing from Tita's hands and breasts." She wasn't sure quite what to do, but didn't want her mother to see the roses and, besides, they were the first bouquet that Pedro had given her. She certainly couldn't throw them away. Suddenly she remembered a prehispanic recipe that called for rose petals. So into the sauce they went. Which, apparently, turned out to be the exact recipe required to produce Trouble, with a capital S-E-X.

Actually, the tears went into the wedding cake that Tita was making for the marriage of her sister to Pedro, her own true love.

Yes, for the most part. But perhaps not the one for Turkey Mole, which begins thusly: "Fifteen days before the turkey is to be killed, begin feeding it small walnuts. Start with one the first day, the next day put two in its beak, and keep increasing the number this way until the night before it's to be killed, regardless of how much corn it eats voluntarily during this period."

I'd just like to say that on a personal level I very much admire you for taking on this quest. It's clear that you are going about it with care and thought, and under no illusions as to the difficulties and uncertainties you may face. But you undoubtedly are making a huge difference in the life of this one child. Bravo to you.

Years ago, my son was an altar boy at our local Catholic church. One Sunday, right in the middle of service, we couldn't help but notice that the priest had interrupted his ritual and was giving one of the altar boys a royal chewing out. Later, I asked my son what that had been all about. He said, "Oh, Father Frank was mad at Matthew. He was sneaking wine during service again."

I bought it for $3.99 on sale pretty regularly at World Market in Austin. Bought a lot of it. Was great just to have on hand as a cheap table wine.

I lived in Europe when I was a child. I noticed that children there often got wine with dinner. It was watered down. You'd see the parents in restaurants pouring water and wine together in varying degrees of strengths, depending upon age. More water than wine for the smaller ones, etc. Their theory was that wine is just something you drink, primarily with meals. Better to teach kids that, they believed, instead of making it some great big deal, or rite of passage, or forbidden fruit, or some other something of import and meaning. And that's what my parents did, too. And when I was in high school and some of the kids would get all excited about having alcohol, I didn't get the attraction. But nobody in my family has a drinking problem. Hard to say how that would have affected their choices.

Wouldn't it be lovely if life itself could be written that way? Not to mention that I'd like to do a little restless and urgent bubbling myself.

I will. But thinking back, I do recall that family played a huge role in the focus of the book -- the time in the kitchen, the recipes that have been handed down for generations, the traditions surrounding life on the hacienda -- but I will check. Great book, I thought.

For my money (and I've been preparing this and serving it to guests for decades) you cannot beat Julia Child's recipe for classic Steak au Poivre. In Mastering the Art of French Cooking, she lists several cuts, but like others in this thread, I prefer the rib eyes that seem to be the tastiest cut available to the home cook: Steak au Poivre

I believe this is correct. As Kitchenmage and Irishcream point out, in Mexico hot chocolate is frequently (actually, some would say 'usually') made with water. (The taste differs from our typical hot cocoa just the way a milk chocolate candy bar tastes different from a dark chocolate one. And frankly, I prefer the non-milk version myself, although it does take some getting used to.) You bring the water to a blistering, bubbling, eager and restless boil. Like emotions. Interesting, isn't it, how cultural differences negate the meaning of the analogy. I guess in the US you could say, "The need and desire within her simmered and bubbled restlessly, urgently, like water for pasta." (I mean, you know, if you had any need to say it at all. ) And yes, there are recipes in the book. One for each chapter, I think. I could go look. Maybe I will and get back.

Hope you get back with us about this. You'll never regret having your grandmother's recipe for cabbage rolls. Nor for anything else. Boy, I wish I had gotten more of my grandmother's recipes while I still could have.

but a slap (no matter where) is assault and battery. ramsay's temper tantrums on television are TV..entertainment, and yes, acting, in my view, even though they may be presented as "reality tv"...hitting (of what ever body part, at whatever velocity) can't be condoned in the real world workplace...imho. Not to mention that the word "slap" was Doug's own. We don't know how the "slapee" would describe it. And, as anyone that watches Judge Judy can tell you, one person's "slap" is another's "sock upside the head." I think that Bourdain/Rhulman and others, in so far as I can tell anyway, are just suggesting that we take Doug's chapter on FL with a grain of salt, understanding that it may be only one side of the story. I think that's good advice in this case. Always, actually.

no-one used sour cream with it (no doubt a residual influence of kashrut). Well, it does say, "sour cream to garnish," so it's easy to leave out. And, MP, thanks for the compliment but I don't make gingersnaps. I've never been much of a baker. I've tried it with more expensive, upscale gingersnaps, but it doesn't seem to work as well as with the cheaper, garden variety types. They break down better, and the flour in the cookies helps to thicken the sauce. I've made that recipe subbing various fruits -- prunes, apricots, dried currants, etc. -- but my family liked the plain ol' raisins just as well, and no matter where we were -- Alaska, Philippines, Panama, you name it -- they were always easy to find. Oh, and reading the recipe over, I notice that I didn't mention lining the pot with cabbage leaves. I do actually do that, and should have said so. I'll go back and edit it to add that. But I've never added carrots. Sounds good. Great, actually. I think I'll do that next time for sure.

Here's the recipe I've been making for some 30 years. I think it's just darn near perfect. That's not to say that there aren't better recipes out there. There probably are. But, at least in my family, we've never found anything we like any better. We've had several other threads on this topic, but my recipe is in Recipe Gullet: Russian Stuffed Cabbage

Wow. I have never heard of anything like this. I can hardly wait to try it out. Where did you get this recipe?

I'm with whomever it was that said that they enjoy having guests swing through the kitchen during the cooking to chat and visit, but NOT to help. If I want help making the dinner, when they ask, "What can I bring?" I'll assign them something. And no matter what, do not, absolutely do not, help me with the cleanup. Do not grab my crystal glasses and clang the rims together. Do not stack my plates. Especially do not stack my plates with the forks still on them. Do not grind up my sterling flatware in my garbage disposal. Do not put my leftovers into whichever containers you think they should go. Do not load my dishwasher with my good china and my good knives and whatever else you think is dishwasher safe and force me to take them back out in front of you and then you get your feelings hurt. Just sit down and relax and be a guest. Be funny and witty and charming. Entertain my other guests and enjoy their company. That's why I've invited you here. I can clean tonight after you've left, or in the morning. When well-meaning folk jump right up and say, "We can get this done in no time," I respond, "Oh no, that's all right. Let me do it. After all, I don't plan to help you when I come to your place!" (Although in truth, I do always offer, of course. And often that hostess, unlike me, is happy for the assistance.) Call me a control freak. I don't care. I don't want help.

Two Fat Ladies have a recipe for cooked peas & lettuce, which I've made often to great success. And although iceberg lettuce isn't my first choice for this recipe, it turns out pretty tasty as well. Peas & lettuce

Especially in summer, its cool crispness is welcome. I like to mix a little in with the 'floppy' lettuces for a nice mixture of textures. When I lived in Asia (for three years), we couldn't get good ol' iceberg lettuce. Nor any other lettuce either, where we were anyway. So we subbed Chinese Cabbage. Believe me, that made iceberg lettuce even more attractive.

Over in the 'casseroles' thread, folks have been discussing 'fish pie' which sounds absolutely heavenly to me, and is topped with mashed potatoes. And, you can make 'potato cheese patties,' a favorite in our house. Take your mashed potatoes and roll them into balls about the size of a small orange. Poke a hole in the top and fill with either grated or crumbled cheese. You can use anything. We like the grated, Mexican style "four cheese" stuff from the grocery store, or something more upscale, like Roquefort or feta. Close the hole and pat into a fat patty. Dip the patty into cornmeal and fry until the outside is crispy and the cheese inside has melted.

And easy! Wow. Sounds utterly sublilme. But I do wonder....how large "a bottle of dark rum"?

You have a "sweet potato chili recipe"? Man, does that sound interesting. Care to share?

We've had several threads on slow cookers and one thing that everyone seems to make with great success is caramelized onions. You just can't beat the crockpot for long slow simmering of those onions. Also, I make Tacos de Lengua in mine. Here's a link to a thread where I give the recipe: Gourmet slow cooker recipes -- do they exist? Oh, y Mar.... Another thing crockpots are great for is serving hot beverages. I'm sure you've been to Germany and sampled the gluwein. When I have parties in the wintertime, I usually have a crockpot full of the stuff simmering away, and another of mulled cider (with a bottle of Tuaca and a bowl of whipped cream alongside) for guests to help themselves.

I've had good luck with this one:Rum Cake Sometimes I make it with spiced rum. I think it's pretty good.