Jaymes

We go out for Chinese food, and then to a movie. That's all you really can do, because down here, everything else is always closed.

Actually, I heard that Adria is experimenting with a burrito foam. I don't think he's got all the kinks out yet, though. So to speak.

Okay, what does this mean? Well, as you probably know, "leche" means milk. And we've been talking about "leche quemada" which means "milk burned" or "burnt milk." Claire substitued the word "basura" which means trash. So, instead of it being "leche quemada," it was more like "leche quebasura." Milk a la garbage can.

Cut the turkey in half, dust liberally with a good mix of powdered dry chiles (being sure it includes 100% red New Mexico chiles), and grill it outside on the Weber, or whatever you have.

Unfortunately, this request wound up in the "Southwest" board -- when most of the Texans hang out in "Texas." I'll see if I can roust up someone to move it. I think your chances of replies would be much better over there. Pardner.

Well. I for one can hardly wait to hear how this grand candy expedition turns out. Kind of exciting, isn't it? We'll need step by step updates, of course! Wish I were there, and on the "tasting committee."

Yes -- I remember the days when I had three teenagers, and two of them were boys. A loaf of bread a day. A gallon of milk a day. A gallon of ice cream a day. Adozen eggs a day. Entire bags of chips, and dozens of cookies. Nothing was safe. Sometimes I felt as if I were really rearing a herd of goats. But I had a friend that had five kids. She (literally) kept "favorite foods" -- chips, bread, peanut butter, jam, sodas, cookies, etc. -- in a locked footlocker in her kitchen. At least I didn't have to go that far.

Anna, if I were you, I'd also google "recipe Mexican milk candy" and at least look at some of the other recipes. And you can try "Leche Quemada" as well -- but that may well produce a lot of recipes in Spanish. Again, I make pralines all the time, and buy that milk candy whenever I'm in Mexico, so I've not felt the need to try to make it. Therefore, I'm no expert on it, to wallow in understatement. Edit: Claire, the texture of the final product is probably due to the length of the cooking, the temperature the candy reaches, and how much stirring you do. Since I did make candy quite a bit during my "mommy" days, that's what I discovered. The same ingredients can make a chewy caramel, or crystalize and fall apart, depending on the cooking. So after you get a flavor you like, you might try experimenting with the cooking procedures to get the final texture. And although I don't know -- I've always had the feeling that Mexican milk candy was not made with brown sugar, although again, I'm no expert, and it's certainly possible. The Mexicans do use their famous "piloncillo" for many things, and it could be what gives some versions of that milk candy its special flavor.

I'm a big believer that there is a time and place for everything. And turning up one's nose may not be wise. It's better to realize that given one's circumstances, the very thing one currently eschews may be just the perfect thing under different circumstances. So there is a Pancho's about two blocks off of the interstate in Albuquerque. It really was a welcome sight to me on too many cross-country trips to even attempt to recall. Sometimes I had a carful of hungry, crabby little kids. And then they turned into hungry, crabby adolescents. Sometimes my hungry, crabby husband was with us and sometimes not. But Pancho's was quick and filling. It was "easy off and easy on" as far as the interstate was concerned. It was a welcome change from the ubiquitous highway fast-food burger chains. We didn't have to linger -- a half-hour and we could be back on the road. I tell you, I was always damn glad to see it. Pancho's is what it is. Nothing more, maybe. But also, nothing less.

And so, Claire, I just did what I suggested. I googled "recipe Mexican milk candy," and got a lot of hits. Here's one that looks kind of promising. But there were at least a hundred more for you to peruse: LECHE QUEMADA (Burnt-Milk Candy) 1 quart pasteurized milk 2 cups granulated sugar 1/8 teaspoon cream of tartar 1/2 cup chopped pecans or pecan halves 1 teaspoon vanilla extract Place milk, sugar and cream of tartar in a heavy saucepan. Stir to dissolve. Cook over low heat for about 1 hour or until mixture begins to thicken. Stir occasionally and first and constantly later on. When mixture thickens, check by caramel method (dropping a drop of the mixture into a cup of cold water until a soft ball forms) or use a candy thermometer to 232 degrees F. Remove from heat. Add chopped pecans. Pour into a wax paper-lined square cake pan and let it cool. Cut into squares. Variations: Omit chopped pecans. Pour mixture by spoonsful onto wax paper, and top each piece of candy with a pecan half. Makes 2 dozen small squares.

The first thing that came to my mind was Mexican Milk Candy -- which sounds like what you found, Claire. I do make pralines a lot, and really like them. They kind of fill that "Mexican caramel" craving for me, so have never experimented with the various recipes for milk candy. The Mexicans make that milk candy in several ways -- sometimes in small logs (occasionally fluted). And they also make them in pans like we make fudge, which they then cut into small cubes. And pattys. Sometimes they have nuts, but more often, not. I've also seen them with coconut. Sorry I'm not of more help. What I'd do, Claire, if I were you is to google Mexican milk candy. There are tons of different variations on this milk candy. I'd think you could find some recipes that would approximate what you're looking for. Edit -- should add that I have probably thirty or more Mexican cookbooks, and the recipe is undoubtedly in at least one of them, and more likely, most of them. But I'm up in Missouri and don't have access to my cookbooks. Otherwise, I'm sure I could find some good recipes for you.

Huuummm... Was her name...by any chance... GWEN!!??!!

So like I was saying, anyone that wants any of my recipes can just PM me.

But you'll happily post it on Recipe Gullet - right? It sounds interesting and we promise we won't F*@K it up. Uh, yeah, right... just call me sometime after the new year... uh, you know... say January... or maybe February... um, after the holidays... like Valentine's and President's Day. Oh, and St. Patrick's Day... and then there's Easter... yeah, just call me then... after the holidays when...you know...when things settle down... Okay?

Well, that's right. At least I don't have THAT problem here on eGullet!

No kidding. And it was a long time before I ever gave HER another recipe, I'll tell you that. Here are two more "sharing recipe" stories, and then I'll quit. I promise. I had guests and for the appetizer, I made "Beer Cheese Dip." It was wonderful, extra sharp cheddar cheese, strong beer, garlic, horseradish (among several other things, I'd better add in the interest of full disclosure -- the exact list escapes me right now). I had experimented with it until I had gotten my proportions exactly right. I wrote them out on a small recipe card that I had stuck into my card holder on the kitchen counter. Everyone raved about that dip. As the guests were leaving, one woman said that she was having guests the very next day and that she just "had to have it," but she was in a hurry, so she grabbed up my recipe card, promising to copy it down and return the card to me that afternoon. Several days went by. Then weeks. She didn't return it. I called her several times. Sure, she said, she'd drop it off the next day. But nothing. Well over a month later, I got a call from someone I didn't know that was hosting a bridge luncheon in her home clear at the other end of town from where I lived. She had gotten my name, she said, from a list of "bridge substitutes" at the downtown bridge club. She'd had a last-minute cancellation. Could I come? Imagine my surprise when my beer cheese dip was the featured appetizer! "My," I said to the hostess cagily, "This is sure good. Can I have the recipe?" "Oh yes, it is good isn't it? You can copy it down from this," and she handed me MY RECIPE CARD. My EXACT SAME recipe card. Written in my hand, with my food spots on it. And so I said to her, "I don't think I'll be needing to copy it. Since this one is mine, I'm just taking it, thank you very much." While living in Southern Arizona, I discovered this wonderful Mexican cheese soup called Caldo de Queso. Very few 'gringos' had ever heard of it. It took me two years to develop my version. I got asked for the recipe often, but had managed to avoid giving it out. I did a LOT of entertaining (like several times a week) and just wanted to hang on to this recipe for a while -- at least until I moved away from Tucson. But I had this one friend, Gwen, who was not to be denied. She, like most gringos had never even heard of it until I served it to her, and she absolutely loved it. She constantly badgered me for the recipe. Finally, after at least a year of her whining (and upon eliciting her heartfelt and sincere promise that she would neither share the recipe with anyone else nor serve it to guests until after either she or I left Tucson), I gave it to her. NOT ONE WEEK LATER, I had dinner guests. I made Caldo de Queso. And one woman, a mutual friend of both Gwen's and mine, said to me, "Oh, you made Gwen's soup!" It turned out that the NEXT DAY after I had given Gwen the recipe, she had made up a huge pot of it and hauled it all over her neighborhood so that everyone could taste it. And that's it. I'll stop boring you now.

I have had some amusing experiences regarding giving out recipes. One of them happened many years ago, when I was a brand new bride of 24. I found this "quicky" recipe for "Veal Parmesan." You could take veal steaks and tenderize them or (the recipe said), just take "minute steaks" (not veal), and dip them into an egg beaten with S&P, and then into a mixture of half crushed saltines and half grated parmesan, and then fry them in olive oil, lay them into a casserole, cover with a can of pizza sauce, then top with a mixture of grated parmesan & mozarella. This sounds pretty dreadful to me now, but it actually turned out quite tasty. I always served it with a side dish of plain pasta dressed with a little butter and salt and pepper. I got rave reviews among my fellow newlywed couples. I really didn't want to give out the recipe because even then I knew that minute steaks and a can of pizza sauce wouldn't win me any accolades in the culinary world. And also, this was so quick and easy and popular that I didn't want everyone else making it. But finally this one friend told me she was having her inlaws for dinner on Saturday night, the absolute first time she had ever entertained anyone in her home, and she was a nervous wreck and she wanted to make that and serve it with the plain pasta alongside, just like I did. So I gave it to her. The following week, all of us little housewives had gotten together for coffee and I overheard her telling another neighbor about her big dinner party with the inlaws. "So how was it?" this third friend asked. "Well, I made Jaymsie's 'Veal Pargmigana' but it wasn't that good." I immediately jumped into their conversation. She had mentioned me by name, blaming me. My fledgling reputation was at stake. "What do you mean, 'it wasn't that good'? How on earth could that have not turned out?" "Well," she replied, genuinely puzzled. "I just don't know. It was pretty bad. I can't imagine where I went wrong, although I did make a couple of substitutions." "What substitutions?" "Well, for one thing, I didn't have any olive oil, so I just browned them in Crisco. And I didn't have any parmesan cheese, so I just left that out. Oh, and I didn't have any pizza sauce, so I just substituted a can of cream of mushroom soup."

i didn't suggest lying. I don't think Denise suggested that you had. I think she's just weighing the ramifications of all of the methods discussed on this thread. And I think she's right. Someone may get their nose out of joint if you say, politely, that this is one recipe you, for one reason or another, aren't comfortable sharing. But that, of the choices discussed here, it seems to be the least-offensive solution.

Absolutely true. And, as I said, although I don't "avoid" them, I do ask them to please call me at a later and more convenient time. I figure I'm weeding out the "token" requesters, and narrowing them down to the folks who seriously want the recipe badly enough to check back.

Me either. I certainly don't. I do occasionally have people say that it's "special" for some reason or another and it's one they don't give out. And I understand completely. I don't think that makes them a bad person whatsoever. And when that happens, I just go home and start looking up recipes for whatever preparation it was. Usually there are hundreds and hundres of recipes for any given thing. With my collection of cookbooks, I have never (that I recall) come up completely empty-handed and now, with the internet, it's even easier. Most of my "recipes" are cobbled together "suggestions" and lists of ingredients anyway, so in pretty short order, I'm making something at least comparable. I'd much rather have them just say that it's a recipe they prefer not to give out, than to lie about it and leave out a few ingredients. I just don't get that at all.

I get asked for recipes a lot. One thing I would NEVER do is to tell someone, "sure, here you go" and then leave out an ingredient or two. What's the point of that? It's dishonest. If it's a recipe I'd rather not give out, I say, "Oh, I'd love to, but it's a family secret and I promised." That's far more honest than leaving something out, which is just plain deceitful and to no good purpose. Furthermore, it's unkind. If you don't want to give out a recipe then have the balls to say so. You don't have to lie as to the reason, either. Just say, "I'm so glad you enjoyed it, but that's a special one that I'd prefer not to give out." Say it with a smile, and not in a snippy manner. I'm sure people would rather you do that than have them struggle and worry and try and experiment and waste money on ingredients and have the thing not turn out. Especially if they trusted you and were preparing it for some sort of important occasion. That's just plain mean. And it doesn't make you some sort of "cutsey mischievious" -- it makes you an ass. I only have a few recipes that I don't give out and, with only two or three exceptions, it's because I gave my word that I wouldn't. So I don't. Some of the recipes came from friends that are professional chefs (which, like the earlier example, has to do with their earning a living and is a completely different matter), and one is from a woman that enters cooking contests and state fairs. The only thing that I do is that I make an effort to be certain that the person requesting the recipe is serious about it. I do something similar to what another poster said. I make them ask twice. I tell them to please give me a call at a later, more convenient, time and I'll write it out for them. If they do remember and take the time to call, I give it to them. For the most part, I figure that if I really enjoy a dish, I don't enjoy it any less because I've shared. I mean it's not like some superstitious native that thinks if someone takes their picture, they're stealing a part of their soul. My dish still tastes as good and I still get the same enjoyment from it. It's not like giving away the recipe steals away part of the flavor. And more than once, I've misplaced a recipe, but was able to recall a friend to whom I had given it. So that was an added benefit. I'll tell you something on this topic that I think is kind of amusing. Someone mentioned being in a small town and having to entertain a lot and getting a few recipes that you're famous for. Well, a military base is a lot like a small town, and the entertaining is fast, furious, constant and competitive. So there are "combat recipe-swapping" rules. That is, if you get something that is really good, quick, easy, and it becomes your "thing," and someone asks you for the recipe, the unwritten rule is that they can't make it and serve it to guests until either you get transferred away or they do.

I absolutely agree with this. In fact, I think I say something to that effect upthread. However, there are certain cases (American beef versus European beef; Italian Parmigiano Reggiano versus American Parmesan Cheese; etc.) where "different" does equal "inferior." Of course there are. And vice versa as well. And thank god for it.

On the matter of ingredients, "different" doesn't necessarily equate to "inferior." In our area there is a German restaurant run by a German family. I was chatting up the owner a while back. He told me that although he prefers the pork he can buy in the US for some things, it isn't the same as the pork that he buys in Germany. So, in order to get the exact same pork flavor, he imported whatever breed of pigs it was, and now raises them here in Central Texas, feeding them whatever it is that they would normally eat in Germany. That's not to say that German pigs are any BETTER than American pigs (speaking of the four-legged variety of course), but according to him anyway, they are different. I suspect then, that if you were, say, trying to run an "authentic South Carolina Pig Pickin' joint" in Berlin, you'd have the opposite problem.

No kidding. As I, a veteran of my own private "tortilla war" can readily attest.