mizducky

I have actually made the no-bake cookie recipe that appears on the back of cannisters of Hershey's unsweetened cocoa several different times, most recently a couple of nights ago. It's dirt simple (uncooked quick oatmeal, peanut butter, cocoa, sugar, butter, vanilla extract), and quite yummy, though as far as I'm concerned it actually produces more of a candy-like confection than an actual cookie. Fearless Housemate turned me on to them--his grandmother made them for him every Christmas, and after he waxed nostalgic about them last year I decided to surprise him. I've also gussied them up occasionally with flaked coconut (the label doesn't mention that, but it does suggest chopped peanuts as an option). I remember that mock apple pie recipe, but was never tempted to make it. However, when a bunch of my friends threw an all-tomato potluck feast many years ago, one of my buddies brought what he described as a "mock tomato pie." It was, in fact, an apple pie (a real one, not the mock apple pie from the Ritz box.)

Bravo. This put a lump in my throat, especially the last three lines.

Love it, LOVE it!!!! Best imagery since Dave the Cook left the moonprint in the sand. And the hat is an absolute---please say you sleep in it, as well. ← Thank you, thank you. But I must confess that, while I do have a small colletion of vintage hats, the hat in my avatar is totally a creation of Photoshop. As for sleeping in a hat--might make a bit of a tangle with the CPAP mask, I'm afraid. Valiantly trying to return to the topic at hand ... Another confession: some of those alternative layouts of upscale gourmet groceries used to confuse the heck out of me until I got the hang of them. Especially the Larry's Market on Lower Queen Anne in Seatte, for those who know it--that whole rabbit-warren of service islands down front, with various types of deli/prepared foods/charcuterie/bakery/etc., would send me into total sensory overload. It seemed to take me forever, my first visit, to figure out where you were supposed to stand in line for what. Seems a shame for me to be complaining over the fact that, for a change, a store had *tons* of cool stuff right up front, but as a newcomer I was in desperate need of better signage, or something. I still wonder whether their design just got the better of them or they were deliberately going for that food-disorientation effect, thinking it would impress the customer rather than sending them running to the safe boring simplicity of the nearest Safeway.

Didn't you spend some time in my dorm room groovin' to "Aja" in college? I find it especially hilarious if the store is playing "Hey Nineteen" or "Cousin Dupree" while I'm shopping. (Both are supremely catchy, very hummable tunes, like so much of Steely Dan's best--and both are about pedophilia, more or less.) ← Good memory, Sandy. Maybe a whole new topic should be started on "most inappropriate song, either original or Muzak'ed, heard over a supermarket PA system." I know I for one have heard some real doozies--gee, people look at you funny when you start giggling in a supermarket aisle for no reason they can discern. You're welcome! But don't forget my frequent stops to swear under my breath at either over-solicitous or vanished store clerks; or at "unit pricing" that's in five different units for the same class of item; or at produce that looks like someone took the word "squash" a little too literally.

Heh. While I have not personally been guilty of the shrieking-female group phenomenon, I have on several occasions been party to parties of shrieking male diners. I should explain that this was back in my twenties, when I was the token female member of a friendship group of gay men. I should also add that these guys had the good taste to never get carried away like that in high-class restaurants (they'd instead be greeting the cuisine with ooohs and aaahs in reverently hushed tones, as would be more appropriate in such settings). We only carried on like that in places where such behavior was relatively acceptable, and the noise level was pretty high already. But, ah, yeah, I guess we could get pretty danged loud and, erm, "festive" when we really got rolling.

Chiming in belatedly to say I totally identify with your feelings for your late lamented stove. Many moons ago when I lived in the Boston area, I owned an old refrigerator that I absolutely loved (I dunno about now, but in the 1980s a number of Boston-area apartments did not come with their own fridge so you had to BYOF ). It was a 1950s era Kelvinator with the rounded top, just like my grandmother's. Even though it was missing a lot of modern features and had a freezer compartment the size of a mailbox, I still adored it. I finally bequeathed it to a soon-to-be-former roommate when I moved into a grad-student's dorm. I just took a look around the net and saw this baby--except for the lousy paint-job inflicted on it, it's pretty close to the one I had.

Ditto. Those tutorials have been the cause of several impromptu runs to the local 99 Ranch Market in search of some ingredient or other--"oh wow, so *that's* how you use such-and-so! Okay, time to experiment!"

Heh. Sometimes the "science" with which they program the shopping Muzak backfires in ways I don't think they realize. For instance--as a huge Steely Dan fan, I always crack up when I hear a Steely song come over the supermarket PA. Yeah, the melody and orchestration are really smooth, so the management probably thinks it's innocuous pop--but if they ever actually listened to the lyrics, they'd realize the goings-on being sung about are probably not what they'd prefer heard in their store.

My NYE practices have varied wildly--and in my youth, my practice was to party wildly. In more recent years, though, I've grown more risk-adverse--nothing against going out and putting on a nice buzz, but as far as I'm concerned NYE is pretty much "Amateur Hour" drinking-wise, where people who normally never drink that much and thus have no idea how to handle it, get way the hell out of control and then get behind the wheel. Real buzz-kill as far as I'm concerned. I am going to do one of my LA runs on December 30th a.k.a. NYE Eve, as my favorite band is playing once again at The Baked Potato--only this time I'm going to try to avoid actually having dinner there, for reasons well-known to followers of the Gallery of Regrettable Foods topic. But while I'll be staying in LA overnight that night, I'm going to make damn sure I'm back home in San Diego again well before nightfall on the 31st. And then I'm going to stay home, probably make a really nice dinner just for myself, have a little drink, and watch other people get wild in the streets on TV. What can I say? I'm getting boring in my old age.

Fascinating subject--and some really intense photos! (Not complaining, mind you, just observing.) I've done most of my exotic wildlife observation via TV remote (thanks to a humorous card-based RPG called "Chez Geek", my friends and I have taken to calling Animal Planet et al by the nickname "The Bother-the-Animals Channel"). But even through those, and my observations of nature going about its business in the margins of human habitation, I've been similarly struck by the same fact you bring up, that virtually all wildlife whether prey or supposed preditor winds up getting eaten. Even roadkill. Unless the critter manages to snuff it in the local equivalent of the La Brea Tarpit, something, whether four-legged or winged or unicellular, winds up having it or its remains for dinner. I am reminded here of a line from one of Jacques Cousteau's documentaries. Over footage of orcas voraciously attacking fish, Cousteau observed that the human tendency to project bloodthirsty viciousness on this kind of typical "killer whale" behavior was in his opinion a misplaced moral judgement, and that what we were viewing was in reality no more sinister than a hungry human enthusiastically laying into his breakfast eggs. Mind you, that wouldn't make me feel any happier personally if I should ever wind up being chomped on. But I wouldn't get all Ahab about the critter somehow having it in for me. (Given that orca attacks on humans are exceedingly rare in any case, it's not high on my list of paranoias. )

A fascinating article. I bet if the researchers stuck a GPS monitor on me as I make my usual rounds, they'd fall over laughing. A short grocery store run doesn't seem to be in my behavioral repertoire--I can spend a ridiculous amount of time dawdling along, looking at different items and going "hmm, never used that before, wonder what it's like?". I also have this bad habit of zipping from one end of the store to the other repeatedly because I forgot something, changed my mind, had a sudden inspiration because of a particular item I found, etc. etc. etc. The various attempted marketing ploys embodied by supermarket layout/item placement sometime amuse me, but mostly annoy me--especially, yes, that bit about clogging up the aisles with free-standing displays (boxes, racks, what-have you). Since I often use the electric carts for disabled customers to spare my creaky knees from all my wanderings and cross-store zippings, those displays turn into major menaces to navigation. Even if one is on foot, they can be a royal pain in a narrow aisle. Another pet peeve of mine is trying to figure out where the hell they put something from the often-inscrutable signs hung over every aisle. Some stores forget to list everything on those signs, assuming that if, say, they list "Paper Towels" you will automatically figure out that all the other paper products are down there too. Or they'll list "Paper Products" -- but paper plates aren't in that aisle at all, they're in some other aisle like "Picnic Supplies". Many moons ago, I recall that some supermarkets would put a big directory sign in a prominent place near the front of the store, so you could look up for yourself what aisle something was in and go directly to it. I can only assume that the disappearance of those signs, and the inscrutability of the remaining signage, is yet another deliberate ploy to make customers pass through several aisles in order to find what they want, in an effort to tempt them to buy more stuff. Oh, and perhaps off on a tangent--supermarkets around here seem to be indoctrinating all their staff to greet any customer they see paused in an aisle, and ask them if they're finding everything they need. Perhaps they mean well, but the over-solicitousness with which it's done really gets on my nerves. It doesn't help that they have a real knack for asking that when I'm in no need whatsoever, but then being marvelously absent when I actually do need them.

Yep, I too have found the faux meat products out of the Chinese vegetarian tradition to be the most satisfying. As this article says, they've been at it for a very long time, and IMO have gotten it down to a very tasty science. Part of their secret is the use of some key products (wheat gluten a.k.a. seitan, dried bean curd skin, etc.); the other part is cooking technique (not necessarily difficult, but you have to handle them right to get them to pick up the desired flavors and textures). You can find the ingredients in any well-stocked Asian supermarket; some, like wheat gluten, you can also find in natural food stores. Sadly, I've been extremely unsatisfied with the fake meat products one finds in mainstream groceries--all those fake hot dogs and cold cuts and whatnot taste pretty wretched to me. IMO, it's that kind of stuff that helps give vegetarianism a bad name.

In 2006, I will eat with greater mindfulness and less haste I will make a whole lot more of my food at home (as opposed to take-out) I will find some kind of living/cooking arrangement where I can make a whole lot more of my food at home--where I am once again free to cook whatever I want, whenever I want, no matter how "stinky" it gets I will learn more about Mexican cuisine, on beyond taquerias (but not neglecting those either). I will teach some kind of holiday/culturally-related cooking class at my church (I helped a children's RE class cook felafels a couple of months ago and had a ball!) I will read more stuff about the relationship between food, culture, and environment This is the year I will trymy damnedest to get some kind of gig as a food writer somewhere, however modest I will taste more of my food as I eat it, as opposed to just mindlessly inhaling it (see resolution about mindful eating above) I will use produce from a CSA (dependent upon achieving a cooking/living arrangement where I am free to make as much cooking-vegetable smells as I wanna) I will give some of my cooking time and skills to charities that can use them

Gee, and I thought I could sneak in here unnoticed. I'm kind of jealous of all the camaraderie and snacking going on at the Pi Mu Sigma (Π Μ Σ) sorority. May I join if I bring chocolate and a nice wedge of feta cheese? ← Dark chocolate, Fresser. Preferably a Scharffen Berger chocolate/espresso bar. And no feta, please. Brie. Or a beautifully creamy cambozola. Don't forget the crackers. ← Oooh! As long as you're at it, Fresser, can I put in an order for a Carnegie Deli-style overstuffed pastrami sandwich, a pint of Cherry Garcia, and a bottle of Tylenol? Edited to add: hey, I just realized, you could fulfill a role in the sorority kind of analogous to that of the Shabbos goy. (Irony most definitely intentional!)

Absolutely fabulous. (To coin a phrase. )

How about taking the kids to luncheon there, and then later having a romantic dinner there by yourselves? (Yeah, then you wind up eating there twice, but I don't necessarily see that as a problem. )

Inspired by the ongoing takikomi gohan topic, I have gotten fond of throwing some rice, leftover diced chicken, and other flavorful thises and thats as the spirit moves me, into my rice cooker and lettin' 'er rip. Really soothing comfort food on a chilly day. (Yes, it actually does get chilly in SoCal in the winter, though compared to other places I've lived it's still practically balmy...)

Click here for a previous post of mine on wedding dinners I have known, including an amusing story from when my kid sister was dealing with planning her own wedding dinner. Anyway--re: the bridesmaids who always order chicken-topped salads in restaurants: I think it's probably safe to say that they don't focus on food as a Major Experience the way we all do here on eGullet , so I wouldn't go out of my way to bend your wedding dinner to their tastes. As long as you make sure your dinner buffet includes a nice big salad bowl, they probably won't care what the heck else is on the buffet. Heck, have the caterers provide some grilled chicken strips to put on the salads, and they'll be all set. Add some other festive but low-key salad-topping proteins (including perhaps some nice Alaska-sourced sea foods like prawns or aldar-smoked salmon, see below), and you'll probably have the rest of 'em covered too. And then provide some *real* food to please yourself and guests of heartier appetite, and you're all set. As to the menu in general: I don't think you have to drive yourself crazy by trying to make every single dish an Alaskan/Kentuckian hybrid. However, I've been playing around with a list of typical Alaskan/Pacific Northwest and Kentuckian/Southern dishes and ingredients (expanding both regions to give more choices), and it looks like coming up with hybrids is easier than I thought it would be. So here's what I got so far (mostly, but not all, hybrids): that bourbon-glazed salmon; medallions of (farm-raised) venison on southern "popcorn" rice pilaf; a fancied up Kentucky burgoo (could be made with chicken as a nod to your non-red-meat-eating guests); crab cakes and shrimp-and-grits (w/Alaskan seafood); mixed salad greens, offered with choose-your-own toppings including dried blueberries, spiced pecans, flaked alder-smoked salmon, etc.; Southern-style greens (maybe do both a vegetarian version and one with smoked turkey instead of ham hocks); some kind of mushroom dish (stuffed mushroom caps? ragout of wild mushrooms wrapped in brik?); corn sticks and sourdough bread; bourbon/pecan and blueberry pies; mint juleps; artisanal Alaskan microbrew beers ... heh, add a crudite/cheese/cracker tray, and already that's a fairly groaning buffet-board, with a lot of familiar items plus room for some gourmet inventiveness.

I got a Manttra cooker at my local Target. I've been extremely happy with it, by the way. Just a nice basic general-purpose cooker.

The secret about the wonderfulness of Vancover, and BC in general, was definitely out among my whole crowd when I lived in Seattle. Various of us would make pilgrimages on a regular basis, for food and other fun (i.e. several of my friends would make special trips to load up at Lush before they finally opened a store in the Seattle area; and myself, I developed a deep love of the BC Museum in Victoria). It's just one helluva lovely province. Anybody up there want to adopt me so I can become a Landed Immigrant? I'm lotsa fun, and I cook good (though I can't boast the girlish figure of your kitchen help, Mr. Maw).

Wow. All these years I'd been getting the mouth-puckering effect from freshly cut pineapple, and I never gave it a second thought. I guess I just assumed that was the way fresh uncooked pineapple was; or maybe the pineapple was a little underripe, or it had something to do with the pineapple flesh closest to the rind (I am a total greedy-head for fresh pineapple, even the relatively wan ones we get here on the mainland, so my tendency when cutting off the rind is to try and lose as little pineapple flesh as possible, even if that means I have to hand-cut all the little "eye" bits out afterward). But now, armed with this info, I'm going to try the brining thing too. I have yet to go to Hawaii, so I have yet to have a pineapple straight out of the fields.

Rusty Nails are good for sneaking some scotch up on a non-scotch-drinker. Especially if you go a little heavy on the Drambuie at first. (Which too many bartenders do anyway, but I digress...)

At 3am after a night of carousing, I am content to let others do the cooking for me. Besides, what I really crave in such a situation, namely classic 24-hour diner grub (greaseburger and fries or scrambled eggs and hashbrowns), the professionals do better than I do--even when I'm not fried or scrambled myself.

It was actually a Rival turkey roaster. Thank goodness!! Can you imagine cleaning that slop off the floor of your oven???!!! ← Sadly, yes I can. All too vividly.

Well, there have been various theme dining experiences in the US for some time now--y'know, those Medieval Manor type dinner theaters where you watch knights joust while eating faux-medieval food with no utensils. And on a higher level of sophistication, there have been those Theater Zinzanni kind of deals where diners eat amidst performers inspired by a Cirque de Soleil kind of aesthetic. And then there are theater/dinner experiences like murder-mystery dinners, the Tony 'n' Tina's Wedding kind of shows, etc. But I have to say it sounds like these Japanese operations have taken things to a whole other level.