Grub

I can't get behind the "I Cab't Believe It's Not Butter"-thing after I saw Gary Larson's Far Side cartoon of a fly eating out of a similar looking tub marked, "I Can't Believe It's Not Sh!t"

Pot-au Feu: When I heard about Pot-au Feu, I realized it was actually a dish that my mother made -- it was just never referred to by any specific name. The procedure of serving the broth as soup beforehand was the same. And it tasted the same, too. I generally prefer roasted meats to boiled, but this was really nice for such a cold and rainy day.

How about Limburger cheese? And the two Norwegian cheeses Pultost and Gammelost (I'm not sure if this was a joke, but supposedly, the traditional way to make the latter involved digging a hole on the ground in the barn, filling it with cheese and topping it off with cow dung. I know this sounds absurd, but it makes perfect sense when you experience the aroma of that thing for the first time...) There's another weird Norwegian dish called Lutefisk, which is extremely stinky (codfish soaked in a salt water mixture that includes lye or something like that -- the fish actually becomes half transparent, and takes on a jello-like consistency. The only thing more amazing than its smell, is how this dish could ever have been created... I know the Chimmy Changa was "created" when a cook accidentally dropped a burrito in the deep fryer, but what kinda accident could have created Lutefisk? Did Olaf the fisherman go on a bender and drop a fish in a bucket of paint thinner or something?) People seem to either love it hate it. I hated it, but a collegue of mine loved it so much he bought a bunch of it frozen and had it sent home to California -- the poor wife was just in tears over the stench...

No, I think these are different things... The "What am I doing here"-feeling makes sense, because anyone can lose their train of thought, you know..? That's still perfectly reasonable. But when I go looksie in the fridge, I'm never doing anything, or being interrupted by this deranged fridge-observing desire. I just sort of go blank and go watch the fridge. Uh, I think I've gone from "Illogical kitchen habits" to Norman Bates there, or something.

Somehow, I suspect that this behavior is gender-specific: Checking out the fridge. I'll just open the door to the refrigerator and stand there like, I don't know -- an idiot -- and just stare at it... Not hungry, not curious as to what's in there, not thinking about cooking, or wondering if I'm running low on anything, or generally thinking anything at all. My mind just goes blank. Does anyone else do this? Do women do it? That habit of leaving the tea kettle on the stove sounds wonderful, by the way -- seems very comforting and reassuring.

Call me a humorless bawster if need be, but "carnivore" isn't really an accurate description of a person's eating habits... Carnivore = meat eater. Herbivore = eater of things other than meat. Omnivore = eater of all things. Sharks and lions are carnivores. Cows and giraffes are herbivores. Humans and bears are omnivores. These are biological terms, so a vegetarian is still an omnivore, mind you.

Em, that was supposed to be, "Is there still a chain in the UK called Kansas Fried Chicken?" (sorry, posts can't be edited after a certain period of time here)... Again, I meant UK, not US. There was a fast-food chicken place by that name in Rusholme, Manchester, UK.

A young Californian college student once asked me (upon hearing that I'd lived in England for a few years), whether it was true that there weren't any McDonald's in England... I could tell he hoped I'd say yes -- that there might be a place somewhere, that he might escape to (without having to learn a new language) -- unspoilt by gharish, American pop-culture, junk food, etc... People seem to love (and hate) America for all the wrong reasons, methinks. These visiting Japanese customers would always eat in a single group, and the senior dude would always decide where to go, and had control of the group's only car, so the young guys never got to pick where to eat... After a couple of weeks, we asked one of them what he missed from Japan -- KFC, he said. What on earth is it with KFC abroad? Is it made according to a higher, local standard than in the US? KFC seems pretty big in Japan. One time I got to go to Tokyo, I found a young lady outside a KFC selling a promotional deal that consisted of some sort of a KFC happy meal along with a Hello Kitty lunchbox. I kept thinking of "Unlucky Fried Kitten." Is there still a chain in the US called Kansas Fried Chicken? I must admit going there a few times, for the post-booze meal, but mostly because it was the only alternative to the multitude of Indian places, and a single Chinese chippy.

Ever since I read Anthony Bourdain's "Kitchen Confidential" and saw how they were willing to put up with just about anything from a good baker (and, of course, the psycho baker in the aborted sitcom by the same name, where the poor pastry chef had to go down into the baker's dungeon, a'la Silence of the Lambs) -- well, ever since then, I've wanted to learn how to make some good bread. Here's my latest attempt: As you can see, it did get eaten (I sliced it really, really thin -- and since the soup that it went with was supposed to be accompanied by "croutons" I could kinda promote it with that angle and get away with it, sort of). But that was NOT what I was expecting. The best way for me to obtain some good bread would be to bake one of these things, and then lay in wait outside a bakery, and assault someone leaving it, beating them senseless with my "bread" and stealing whatever they purchased.

As a disclaimer let me say that I hope some members who are more knowledgeable than I will contribute to this thread, but basically, yes. Tilapia and catfish are mild in flavor, and it should be easy to find a reasonable substitute for them.

This isn't quite a "... never again ..." moment, since I managed to stop myself from doing it. But it was a very, very close call... I had just finished boiling some vegetables, that were to be pureed for a soup... I had poured the contents into a blender, and then went to plug the power cord in. To reach the outlet, I had to lean over the blender -- and so my face was just above the OPEN container filled with steaming hot liquids and vegetables... At the last moment, it occurred to me that maybe I should make sure that the blender isn't turned on, before I plug it in. Sure enough: it was... Man, that was a chilling moment -- I could really feel the heat and steam from the soup-to-be rising up at my face, realizing I was half a nanosecond away from exploding the whole mess right into my face...

(Oaky, it's long. But I swear, it's good). There are a lot of weird laws & regulations in the Nordic countries, re. alcohol... In Finland (also, possibly Sweden) you can't buy regular beer in the supermarket -- only in specially designed, government-run stores (if I remember correctly, I think the Finish ones are oddly appropriately named "Alco." Heh, and they also have a bank that is somehow related to the governmental postal service, named something like "Posti Panki" which makes me wish I was a Finish tabloid editor so I could cover a sexually ralated scandal at the bank and use "Posti Panki Hanki Panki!" as a headline). Uh. Yeah, so the supermarket only sells this low-alcohol beer. Very evil. Now, Norway had a similar deal going, except it depends on what county you're in... I think all supermarkets would sell full-octane beer, but most wouldn't sell high alcohol beer -- that is, you had to get at the Alco type store. In the capital, a grocery store sold high-alcohol beer, but it was kept behind the counter, and you'd have to ask the clerk for it... It gets weirder: in other areas, this idea was applied to regular beer as well (I think the general idea was to shame people into not buying beer). Not only did you have to ask a clerk for the beer, you weren't allowed to touch the beer until you had paid for it -- an employee would have to fetch it from the back, and then carry it to the checkout for you... One area, this was even taken to the extreme that beer had to be ordered ahead, so it wouldn't be an impulse purchase -- BUT, you could only order by the case (and yeah, you could buy a bunch of cases -- just not a single beer, or a sixpack). AND, they'd keep a log of these purchaces, for no other reason than to intimidate customers into worrying about it being published, to further shame them... One island community in the south was dry -- but not just the regular kinda "we don't sell alcohol"-dry -- they even banned zero-alcohol beer... (It's almost needless to say this -- almost -- but of course, this was religiously motivated...) But wait ... There's more! These guys even refused to accept empty beer bottles for the redemption value! This was actually completely illegal -- but hey, that's the way it was.... Now, you gotta keep in mind the fact that redemption value for bottles is HUGE in the Nordic countries (which is a GREAT idea by the way, since it makes everyone recycle -- because not doing so means throwing SERIOUS money out the window). But they didn't just refuse beer bottles -- they refused any bottle that had the same shape and color (brown) as a beer bottle. Even if it was soda, with the label still on it. Now, forcing people to buy cases, rather than single beers is one level of stupid -- this island's refusal to pay redemption on recycled bottles was an entirely different dimention of stupid... This island was such a beautiful place, there'd be tons of tourists in the summer -- especially young people who liked to party, and would bring beer. The next day, they'd have to haul all these empties off the island to get their considerable redemption money back... When I say that everyone recycled, that's not entirely accurate -- not everyone does it (this is a wealthy society with cradle-to-grave social security), but that's okay, because kids would collect them instead. For a kid, finding a homeless "nest" somewhere would be like discovering a pot of gold -- there'd be like a couple of weeks' worth of allowance just laying there... But not for the poor wee tykes on this little island... Because the ones who brought the beer would resent this no-refund policy so much that many of them would simply smash the bottles against a rock, to get back at the locals... Of course, this created a vicious circle of retardedness, because the locals' impression of off-islanders as sinful and horrible people was made even worse -- further solidifying their belief that having regulations against sinful things like beer was a good idea... This eventually came to an end, but not until the island finally got an undersea tunnel to the mainland. Okay, a final funny/stupid thing about Norwegian booze laws... We've all heard about the French uh, "conundrum" or whatever they call it -- the fact that the French drink such a great deal of wine, but still remain very healthy, right? Well, the gubment figured they'd steer people away from beer and hard liquor (and moonshine -- yeah, you heard right. This country has just about the highest living standard in the world; heads and shoulders above the US -- hard booze is so expensive that everyone either runs their own (very illegal) still, or knows someone who does, like some bunch of dirt poor hillbillies) -- so they made wine extremely affordable... But the inherent drinking pattern in the country is one of binging, due to the cost -- alcohol is only for special occasions, dig? Take a stroll around cental Oslo on a Sunday morning, and there's blood, puke and urine stains freakin' everywhere... So for an ordinary weekday, having an entire bottle of wine with dinner was considered too much, and thus the wine thing never really took off -- that is, until cardboard boxed wine arrived. This allowed people to have a single glass or two, and feel cultivated and French like -- without being left with half a bottle of stale wine. So this attempt at transforming the Scandihoovians into chic baguette-wielders made everyone drink wine out of freaking cardboard boxes. Sweet. Okay, one more thing... You couldn't order a double. Double Scotch, double Gin and Tonic? Nope. HOWEVER, you COULD order a G & T and (wink wink, nudge nudge) also a single shot of gin for your "friend." And then you could pour the single shot of gin into your G&T -- right in front of the bartender. A customer pouring one drink into another wasn't illegal. Ordering two drinks at the same time, was. (I mean, I was once chasticed for ordering a drink, when I hadn't finished the one I was working on. It was like Pink Floyd's The Wall: "How can you have any pudding, if you haven't finished your meat!?" I assume, if you were caught by doing this by the booze-Gestapo, you were expected to insist that you really did order the single shot for a friend, but he's in the bathroom, or ran away, or got abducted by space aliens. Skål! (Cheers in Scandihoovian). Actually, the world's best toasts are Finish. "Kippis" is the one you get straight off the dictionary. "Hullekun Kullekun" doesn't mean anything at all, but it sounds fantastic, and rolls off your tongue just like that -- you're freezing your balls off in Helsinki, the railway station next to the hotel has destinations going to Stalingrad, and there's an entire floor unofficially reserved for Russians, because they smoke crazy, vile, Russian commie cigarettes that stinks everything up so bad they're not wanted on the normal floors and you've just been in a goddamn business meeting in a freakin' sauna, drinking vodka while trying to negotiate a contract -- there ain't nuthen that rolls off yer tongue more naturally than hullekun kullekun. But the Finns have Sisu. They can top anything -- even hullekun kullekun... This is the singlemost, best damn toast in the world: Perset Ollale. I'm spelling it wrong, but it means something like "Ass on Shoulder." You gotta respect that: I'm not just merely gonna git drunk and make a fool of myself, or get in a fight, or even go on some kinda berseked rape & pillage, modern day viking raid, oh no! I'm going to get so completely and utterly fucked up beyond any sense and reason, that my buttocks will figuratively speaking be placed in the vicinity of my shoulders. Verily, I say onto thee: the worst blunder isn't getting involved in a land war in Asia. Nor is it going in against a Sicilian when death is on the line. The singlemost biggest blunder you could ever commit -- the one single thing you must all tell your brave sons to never do, is this: Don't ever, ever, EVER try to drink a Fin under the table.

Hopefully, someone will correct me if I'm wrong, but as I understand it, that is assault AND battery. And as someone who intensely dislikes lawsuits, I feel that you would have been completely justified in suing the bastards for their last nickel -- provided, of course, that you spend it all on having that crazy cashier exterminated, or at least rendered incapable of reproducing. Man, there's nothing quite as depressing as stupidity. I think only about 4% of all Americans have passports. Maybe that explains the consternation over encountering a furinur. Good grief.

You're quite right -- I apologize! D'oh... It DOES use milk, and not water (and I did use milk, not water -- I made a mistake when posting the recipe). This set off an alarm bell in my head, because that Woman's Day Encyclopedia has generally proven itself to be a really good source for recipes -- especially classics like that.

Ah, Memphis BBQ, so you were by the highway, like the Red Lion or something? On the other side, you've got Monteray Bay Canners, Hungry Hunter, and the Rusty Duck. And uh, I don't know nuthen bout no prom dates but well, most people refer to the place as the Dusty Fuck. The only noteworthy culinary establishment in that region is -- once again -- a hamburger joint. This one's called Awful Wally's, just a few blocks down the road, at 1151 Richards Blvd. Here's a review of the place, and here's another. Wally's is a pretty eclectic and generally weird place. It's housed in some kind of an industrial building with 30-foot ceilings and various memorabilia stuck up everywhere on the walls. The food is modestly priced, and very good. Of course, in no way does it compare to Nationwide, but then again, that's a tall order. It's cheap and cheerful, and conveniently located, if you stay in the same place again.

Excellent -- I'm really grateful for all the help, and feel pretty confident that I'll get it right the next time, with your advice. The recipe is from an old collection of cooking books called "Woman's Day Encyclopedia of Cooking." Although the filling is just referred to as "filling," I believe it is pastry cream, and not custard, since it does contain corn starch (what exactly is the difference between the two anyhow, except for the cornstarch?). And yes of course, corn starch needs to be heated properly to thicken -- I didn't think of that. I'm using an electric burner, and as I said, the double-boiler arrangement I set up was insufficient to work with a hollandaise, so I'm going to just use a pan instead. I've since seen pastry cream recipes that does without a double boiler, so I should be set. The recipe (scaled down to half) is: 1.5 cups water, 6 Tbsp sugar, 3 Tbsp cornstarch, 1/4 tsp salt, 1.5 beaten eggs (I used 1), 1/2 Tbsp butter, 1 tsp vanilla extract. Thanks for the help!

You've just about covered everything here... Only one I can think of is "Delicatessen" and uh, the best way to describe that one is with its tagline, off of its entry on IMDB.com: "Post-apocalyptic surrealist black comedy about the landlord of an apartment building who creates cannibalistic meals for his odd tenants." Drama, Comedy, Sci Fi, Romance, Horror -- and food. Can't be bad.

Tried making some eclairs the other day (never done this before) and while the eclairs themselves came out just great, the filling was way too thin. I've never actually had an eclair before, so I didn't quite realize it until I tried eating one of the suckers, and the filling just dripped and drooled and drained out everywhere... I whisked it plenty, so I suspect my problem is that I didn't heat the filling enough when I made it. This double-boiler I use just doesn't get hot enough -- I've given up on it when making hollandaise sauce, and am just using a regular pan instead. I'm thinking, this is what I need to do with the eclair filling as well. An egg-based mixture needs heat to thicken up properly, right?

Oooh, I made this too. It's a great recipe, and both looks and tastes fantastic. But most impressive to me is perhaps how well it looks in photographs... I'm rarely happy with how my pictures look, but in this case it looks at least as good as it tasted. Excellent recipe.

This is somewhat disturbing, but man, I'm absolutely awed! 14 different types of bacon -- that's wut egullet is all about!

Generally speaking, I just go as fast as I need to -- I set a time for dinner, and do whatever is needed to get it done in time. I have a really bad tendency of thinking way too much, so when I'm working off a new recipe, I spend an awful lot of time visualizing the cooking process, trying to find better ways of doing things (well that's my excuse) and generally obsessing over things... I don't know this with absolute certainty, but I figure cooking is like any other profession -- the fastest and most efficient folks are the ones without any wasted motion. This engineer I once used work with seemed like the busiest guy in the company, until I realized 50% of his work output consisted of freaking out about his workload, telling everybody how busy he was and generally conveying his trauma to anyone who'd listen... Keep yer head down, don't worry too much, and get on with it -- that's what I try to do. Sometimes it works.

I don't think you switch with the Continental style. If you did, there'd be no point to it at all -- it would essentially be the same as the zig-zag method, except left-handed... Right? Now that I think about it, with the zig-zag method, if you're holding the fork in the dominant hand most of the time, what is the reason for switching it around in order to put the food in your mouth? (I've always used the continental method, but I'm a tad confused on it. My entire family were left-handed, and used the continental method, left-handed -- so I did the same. At some point in my teens, I realized this, and switched to a right-handed method. There are still things I can only do left-handed at the table (and other things like shooting pool or bow and arrow), like peeling a hot potato. Not ambidexterous, just uh, confused.)

That looks fantastic. Care to share the recipe for that crust?

The Continental and "Zig Zag" method both have their advantages as well as limitations, and I really see no reason to favor one over the other -- much less condemning one way of eating as uncivilized or crude. That being said, I like to cut my steak in very large but relatively thin slices, which I then place on my face and yell, "I am not an animal!" and stumble around the room, pretending to have a clubfoot. Oh hang on, that's chicken. My bad. What?

Heheh -- maybe this is a depressing thought to some, but hey, I think it's a point of pride: The only restaurant in Sacto that truly belongs in the "don't miss" category is an old-fashioned, old-school burger joint. They don't call it cow town fer nothing... NATIONWIDE, BABY! © Jason Perlow