Badiane

Y'know you can read them online or at the library for free, right? You don't actually have to invite them to share your home, which is nice, since they never pay half of the rent. Gourmet/Bon Appetit also maintain a recipe database and they are all there for the taking, no charge, no clutter. Of course if you are looking for magazines for her, I would be delighted to contribute to her collection. Just let me know when you will be home and I will have the truck stop by.

I'm guessing that this is one of those 'if you have to ask, you can't afford it' situations. Of course it could double as your office...you could write it off! (I would make a joke here about cold blooded food writer/restaurant critic types here but I'm not nearly as verbally creative as you are and I would no doubt get the worst of it).

They actually did two full seasons - about 26 shows. Just seems that it's the same 10 all the time. I did enjoy one episode...and it's going to be on in a couple of days...were a young woman from a cooking school comes begging for a shot in the kitchen and they not only allow it, Guy is incredibly kind to her at the end and actually gives her a job. That was cool.

I know that is a typo, but it's darn funny Something else from eGullet that is destined for the family lexicon.

What???? Where do you live??? Here in BC, the bake sale is still alive and kicking and happening in the local mall every weekend....potlucks abound at the Legion, the office and every church in town...I just won the Chili Cookoff at work, and I catered my own wedding right down to the peanut brittle favors. Now I feel the need to draw the curtains and hide my crockpot Really, I've never heard such a thing here. I can get behind the idea behind this - it has some validity, and I completely agree with Rebecca that not all memories need to be food based. I'm living proof that it might have been a better idea to send me to school with some erasers and stickers rather than all those cakes, cookies and squares...a moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips, as it were. It's when they start telling you what you can pack in your own child's personal lunch that I get peeved.

A few years back???? It's still on every freaking day. The same 10 episodes, over and over and over and over. It's like being trapped in some Food Network Groundhog Day...two freaky looking dudes destined to repeat the same schlock day after day after day. I keep hoping they will get it right and finally move on. While I am always glad to hear that someone has found culinary inspiration from something Canadian, I am so far over that kind of food, presentation, pretension and attitude that I can't find the Rubinos anything other than ridiculous.

DC DUBY Apparently molecular gastronomy is alive and well and living somewhere in Vancouver... Dominique and Cindy Duby seem to be well on the way to bringing ravioli blobs to the masses. They were featured on Chef at Large on the Food Network the other day. Quite interesting to see what they have come up with. Above is a little blurb I found that will also lead you to thier website. edited to add: I just loaded a little 'Science Kit' video from the website...you can buy a kit that will allow you to try making some of this stuff at home, including little jelly blob thingies - looks like fun. I think Ling is just the gal to try it out and let us know how it works!

Veau Morille.... It is the single best thing I have ever eaten in a restaurant that I didn't cook myself. Onion Tart was exceptional as well.

How do they pronounce it? ← I always pronounced it to rhyme with booster...Wooster. And Shire the obvious way, just like it is written. It's actually supposed to sound like wuss...Wuss-ta Shire should sound like sure...or Shure. So it's either Wuss-ta for the town, or Wuss-ta Shure for the area. This from a nation with villages called Lower Piddle, Upper Piddle and Piddle-through-the-Hole.

never seen them but it's a great concept...I just had a flash of that fabulous looking horse sashimi that Ling and DaFonz had the other night...drapped over a rice bun with something pickled and zingy...yeah, okay, I would buy them. I wonder if it's a commercially produced item or if you could make them yourself..probably work pretty well with some sushi rice and one of those tupperware hamburger patty making doo-dads. Hmmmm....who do we know that has a restaurant that would be willing to try these...hmmmm....do we know anyone in the food business? I have one of those tupperware doo-dads somewhere...

I do the bag and drop...then when I have workable smaller pieces, I grate it in the food processor and store it in a plastic container in a cool place. That way I only have to get the processor dirty once, I don't wear out my wrist with the chopping, and I am ready to go when I need to melt some.

Well, if it was ME making the dinner...and we were going to get all fancy like, this is what she'd get: Toast Points with a bit of Gentleman's Relish on top. Steak and Kidney Pie with a bit of Mashed Swede on the side, maybe a roasted spud or two. Spotted Dick with jam sauce A nice bit of Stilton and some biscuits If it's good enough for the rest of the country, it's good enough for 'erself. My friend Wendy was the flight attendant on thier plane during a visit in the late 60's...she has a great story about the kids - they were goofing around and overturned a tray of tea sandwiches. Elizabeth swatted at them with her magazine and made them not only pick the sandwiches off the floor but eat every one of them. And of course there is the famous story - famous in our family, anyway - of her visit to Saskatchewan - they had a dinner in one of the small towns and the woman who was clearing the tables said 'keep your fork, there's pie'. Supposedly she obediently licked her fork and put it back on the table, waiting for the pie.

We call it Jim Horn-nuts. What exactly are those Timbits supposed to represent, anyway? I think that guy had a sick sense of humor I always called it Woostershire...until I married a man from Worchester...the tauting was endless and I finally learned to say it right.

Chesticles? This is a new one on me. ← Also known in our family as breasticles... you know...two dangly bits...okay, that's enough out of me on that subject. I really MUST find a job and stop hanging around here.

Just be food safe...two P's you don't want? Ptomaine Poisoning.

I'm so glad he's still out there terrorizing young chefs...while I could have cheerfully gutted and barbecued him, I know he only rode me like he did because he cared and thought I had it in me to succeed. If he could only see me now...I know he would be proud. I am what I am (at least in the kitchen) due in part to his extreme drive for perfection. There are several cringe-worthy memories about him in my head...to this day I cannot eat mango salsa without thinking of him...and I still guard his recipe for Pear Anise soup with my life - he told us that if he ever came to someplace we worked and saw it on the menu he would gut us like a halibut. Every time I make it, I toast his memory. I really MUST email that man... Awesome stories in this thread...really brings back those days in culinary school.

I was a nanny in another lifetime, and looked after a little boy, who, at the age of two would demand to be taken on the bus to get some Fuck Me Fried Chicken.... He did love his KFC, that little monster My mother's name for basmati is 'badnasty'. She honestly thinks that is what is says on the bag. She's starting to drift on me, I think.

You must let me know if you encounter my old nemesis, Olivier Andreini...I understand he is a chef instructor there now. He was one of the chefs at the cooking school I went to. We nearly came to blows a couple of times - I nearly quit during exams, we had such a go 'round. You must let me know if he is still in the habit of yelling 'ok, people, LETS HAVE IT' when it's time to plate.... He scared the crap out of me...must have worked, he is still one of the voices in my head

Why is it that when I think of Giada, all I see is her giant head and enormous teeth - and if I posted that I would get hopped all over for being horrible and nasty but when a MAN thinks of nothing but chesticles and says so right here in front of everyone, no one flinches? I mean no woman would come here and say wooohooo...how ever DOES Flay find pants that fit? and that Chairman...he is SOOOOOO flexible!!! Shame on you boys!

I always thought the Four Horsement of the Apocalypse were Chain Restaurants... Any y'all KNOW you are going to watch it...you have set the Tivo, marked it on the calendar and purchased a box of those pre-cooked 'dim sum style' appies and a bottle of plum sauce for the occasion. You will all be glued to the tube, in your jammies, laughing yourselves silly and planning all the witty remarks you can log onto eGullet with to entertain your online pals. Ahem...cough. Perhaps I am projecting. I can't wait to see it. I'm twisted that way.

That location closed down several months ago, much to my eternal disappointment...no more trips to Costco with a side trip for biscuits. Sigh. Not that I don't know how to make those biscuits, but it's nice to have someone else do it for me. Guess I will just have to wait for Costco to bring back the lobster rolls so I have an excuse to go there again. The old location is for lease...anyone wanting to start a fried chicken empire could use this space as a launch pad...all the equipment is still intact, by the look of it.

Oh me too...believe me...complete and total bum magnet. I look back and can't even believe some of the stuff that has happened. I once invited a seemingly normal reasonable guy over for dinner...he had a good job and I knew his mom and everything. Well after dinner was over, he asked if he could take home the leftovers. Ummm...okay, sure. Then he laid on my floor and watched the hockey game. After the game he jumped up, slapped my behind and said 'I'd really like to stick around and have sex , but I have to get the dog home'. She was in the car waiting for him. I also once had a guy over to dinner - with two other couples - and in the middle of dinner there was a knock on the door. It was his live-in girlfriend. She was tired of waiting in the car and needed to use the washroom. Annnd...my final even remotely food related horror....I went on a date with a man who was employed at Microsoft in Redmond...he had a very low employee number...under the 200 mark. He was stinking filthy rich. He ordered my lunch for me and then made me pay half the bill. Fortunately he was one of my last dates. Shortly thereafter I met the man I married What a relief.

That's it...Elmer Fudd!!! Exactly. I knew Porky Pig wasn't quite right. Although the resemblance was shocking. I have so many 'I met him on the Internet' dating horror stories...too bad most of them aren't even remotely food related. I did meet my wonderful, patient, caring, very funny husband on the net tho - so it can be done. He is living proof that a non-foodie CAN be reformed into a complete and total cheese snob. I know, because I have created that monster

Like I said, at least I can laugh about it now. I am here to tell you tho, that a deeply food oriented woman can in fact find complete bliss with a man who won't eat anything that had more than four legs and was once famous for his five day'er casserole that he would assemble on Sunday night, bake, eat some for dinner and then leave in the oven all week. Just come home from work, flip the oven on, make food hot, dish up, turn off oven and return food to said oven for storage. Yup. Iron constitution, my husband. It will kill him one day. I do have another internet dating story that is sort of food related - it's almost as bad as the first one, but not quite Another blind date...you would think I would learn. Picks me up in his pickup...wants to take me to his 'favowite westewant'. He had a wierd speech issue of some kind - sort of a Porky Pig thing completely unrelated to any kind of hearing impairment or other disability - this time I was rude and asked (nicely). Soooo...the 'favowite westewant' turned out to be 'Wed Wobstew' somewhere in the states that is at least an hour drive from here and required a cross border experience. All the way there he regaled me with tales of woad wage from his job as a twuck dwivew. He also told me all about his ex giwfwend, Wobin. Okay, if I was called Robin, I would not date a guy who talked like that. So, we get to Wed Wobstew. Never been there before or since. I am cringing behind my menu and trying to hide but no such luck. He asks the waitress for an order of Motzawella Sticks to start. Okay. So I am still cringing behind the menu, waiting for inspiration when the waitress drops the fried cheese on the table. I hear the plate slide and the the most unholy snarfling and snuffling and smacking that I have ever heard. I thought he was choking to death so I threw the menu across the room and lept to my feet, all ready to Heimlich him. He looked up at me and the lower half of his face was covered in grease and crumbs and he says "Oh, you didn't want any, did you? I saved you the mawinawa sauce, it's good on the biscuits" Okay...now that should be the end of the story...I managed to get him to take me home pretty quick by pretending I was sick. Should be the end of the story...but no. He kept calling me and leaving messages about how fun it was, and how much he liked me and how much he wanted to see if we could have a welationship, because our evening ended before he got to 'touch my soul with his lips'. Yes. That is what he said. Actually he said wips...but you get the idea. Fast forward three weeks. I went to the movies - by myself - and as I was short cutting past the Xray Clinic up the alley to my apartment I heard some singing - and I could see the neighbors out on their balconies hooting and laughing. Yup. Porky Pig is parked outside my building. Standing in the bed of his pickup. Wearing a suit and holding some roses, and, for some inexplicable reason, a bucket of KFC. Drunk. And singing. "Yew awe once, twice, fwee times a Wady....and I wuuuuv you...." Egged on by three old ladies, a bum, a crazy drug dealer and the crack ho that lived upstairs (not the best building to live in). I snuck around the block, in the back door, up to my apartment and called the cops. They came and arrested him for being drunk and causing a public disturbance. His truck disappeared around 9 the next morning. I never heard from him again.

It was a blind date...internet dating is a crapshoot, but hey, I was reckless and bored. So dude shows up at the door...email confabs and photos confirmed that he was somewhat athletic (I am not) and that he was a distance runner (I am SO not). Works as a therapist of some kind (should have been a clue). So I open the door to a man who is at least 15 years older than his photo...who is clearly no longer an athletic type because he has either suffered a stroke or been injured in some way. I wasn't rude enough to ask. I figured what the heck, he seemed nice in the email, and it's only coffee. We get out to his truck and there is a) a german shepherd in the back seat and b) a blanket over the front seat were I am to sit. I get in, and he says 'sorry about the blanket, I didn't have time to vacuum the dog hair'. Alrighty then. We go about 5 blocks to the local coffee bar (with the dog growling at me all the way because I am in her seat) and go inside. I don't like this man already and am plotting ways to get away. He stares at the menu on the wall and asks the poor barista about 30 questions about the various drinks and then orders a plain cup of coffee, small. I ordered my usual, some kind of sugar free mocha thing, which comes with one of those chocolate sticks. We sit down and I am straining to be polite but it's hard. I pick up the chocolate stick and am about to stick it in my mouth when he grabs my hand and the following ensues: Him: Do you really need to eat that? ME: HUH? Him: Well, you clearly have weight issues. ME: WHAAAAAA? Him: Well, you have a 'pretty face' but face it, you are fat. You should show some self control and not eat everything you can get your hands on. ME: WHAT THE F*(#*@*$Q(#@$YQ(@*&$(&$#*(&!$(&%(#&$)!@$)%()!*@)Q#&%#&(@%)*#%)*#)*%)*)#*)#*%)*)!%)(&!$)& AND JUST EXACTLY WHO THE H!)(@U#)*@#*&!)@*$)@$*)!@&$)*&!@)$&)!@*# ARE YOU ANYWAY BLEEEEEEEEEEP BLEEEEEEEEEEPPPPP !@#!@$#$%@^$@&$%*&$* Him: Well done. That was a very impressive display. Now everyone knows how well you can swear. Did that make you feel grown up? ME: Chuck you, Farley. Him: Now that you have that out of your system, let's get back to your weight issues. Tell me what your Mother is like. ME: AAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHHHH. (followed by me running away and locking myself in my apartment.) Of course I can laugh about it now. We have a few mutual friends...we saw him at a party last year. I am married and very happy with a man who loves me, warts and all. He still has his dog.