Pontormo

On one cabinet door, I have a large close-up of these stuffed spotted pigs dressed only in napkins tied around their necks. They're clutching forks and knives to eat prosciutto. On the little bare wall in between cabinets and counter-top appliances is this guy, but as found on a very tacky 3-D postcard so he's Most Sculptural if creamy white meat and bones. In contrast, a flat image from the floor of a Roman home in Pompeii that is a Stoic view of a servant tending to dinner guests. As mentioned long ago on a thread begun by Karen Resta, this is kind of a Before/After type of memento mori.

Is there not a thread dedicated to all things DiBruno in this forum? I just conducted a search and this was best of two recovered. At any rate, I was told by my neighborhood Italian place that they've been selling me a domestic pancetta all these years. It's from PA and the best option they have. According to one of the long-timers, you can't get Italian imported pancetta--or at least they can't. Is this true? I was wondering if a regular shopper could make an inquiry during your next trip to DiBruno's or other wonderful local source for Italian groceries.

I don't think there is an equivalent, though I've seen some recipes call for cake flour. Some specialty markets sell tipo 00, but I've been using a mix of all purpose flour and semolina - more AP if I want softer pasta, more semolina for firmer ones (like lasagna or pasta that will end up in soups). ← Judith, I don't know if you can get EVERYTHING in New York, but I've just discovered a wide variety of brands of light, bleached (?) flour nearby in Virginia where there's a supermarket belonging to a chain found exclusively in the South. White Lily is the most recognizable brand, but there are several more I had never seen before. They may make fluffy, high biscuits, but I wonder if they might also be close to Tipo 0/0. I intend to experiment with some in December when the Italian forum turns to Emilia-Romagna. Perhaps there's someone down South (Therese?) with experience and knowledge?

Well, I'm playing again. This time I chose Deborah Madison's Local Flavors, not randomly, but because I had used only two or three recipes in the book before despite how much I turn to two of her other books. This particular publication appealed to me primarily because it documents visits to farmers markets throughout the United States, with wonderful photographs. The chapters are organized by season and primarily types of available produce, though meats, local cheeses, eggs and dairy products also receive attention. It's a good source of inspiration if you want to know what to do with the persimmons you just picked up. Report here since it's a vegetarian meal of root vegetables braised in a wonderful, thick but light red wine sauce, with little beady, black lentils and rutabaga mashed with potato, and in my case, a little buttermilk and celery root.

Since the weather has been so balmy lately, I've been putting off a meal I had been meaning to prepare for quite a while. However, parsnips do not last forever, so last night I had: Black lentils with braised root vegetables and red wine sauce Rutabaga-celariac-potato mash Green salad tossed with slivers of clementine The entire dinner was based on an eye-catching photograph in Deborah Madison's Local Flavors which I've always found much more interesting to read for information and inspiration than for the recipes. This meal evokes the elaborate steps of preparation that go into dishes in Greens as opposed to the quick, pared-down recipes one finds in most of her recent books. It was actually quite fun to assemble everything. The best part of the dish is the wine sauce, made by sautéeing diced vegetables in stages, ending with mushrooms and herbs, then mixing them with a little tomato paste and flour before pouring in red wine and a quart of water along with the dried porcini that had been soaking in it during the entire process. After a long simmer, vegetables are strained and liquid is reduced until thick. Then a little mushroom soy sauce and butter. For the braised root vegetables: whole shallots are sautéed with lengths of carrot in butter and olive oil. (This could easily be a vegan meal, though the butter contributed much.) Then, parsnips and mushrooms are thrown in with herbs. Finally, the sauce is added with water. (Why not let half reduce in the braise?) The remainder of the sauce is added to tiny Beluga lentils. Along with the fluffy mash, all is plated together, then sprinkled with a gremolata of sorts: garlic minced with parsley. This last touch really brightens ( I am starting to get sick of that word) the dish. Nigella Lawson offers a riff on the recipe in Feast, where she adds pancetta and lots of other bits of vegetables to the lentils. As pretty as Beluga lentils are, they're a bit too tiny for the masses of other components in the meal. I would use Le Puy instead next time and reserve the Belugas for speckling soup. It surprised me how the absence of meat made everything seem much lighter than it ought to have been.

Hear, hear about minimizing the dutiful and grim aspects of the situation as much as possible. I am skeptical about the way nutrionists promote the joys of color when trying to get us to eat a wide variety of fruits and vegetables. The message that comes across is still "I am better than you." Finding out what individual family members enjoy eating, and teaching the young mother how to prepare these dishes first would be most helpful, especially if they include take-out or packaged foods that might be less costly were she to learn how to make them herself. Start with mastering the familiar, maybe adding a new vegetable that she picks out herself, or a different flavor. Meatloaf is one way to do this. Macaroni and cheese or spaghetti "sauced" with something other than tomato would be fun once she's learned how to cook spaghetti, make her own tomato sauce, then see how different flavors added to tomato sauce alleviate monotony. For example, spaghetti carbonara might be exotic, but who doesn't like bacon, eggs, cheese or spaghetti? Get to that point by adding bacon to spaghetti sauce, making eggs for breakfast, or even trying fettuccine with an egg yolk and cheese added to cream. All these steps might make the prospect of tossing hot pasta into a pan of greasy raw, gooey egg less icky. Learning where and how to shop is essential, and I am sure you can help a lot there. Compare prices, go to different stores and introduce the concept of seasonal food. Teach how to stock a pantry with ingredients she'll need to prepare things from scratch. Learn what store specials are real deals and how to stock up for the future if there's an item she'll use often. Establishing what's better fresh or frozen vs. canned is tricky if she was raised on canned green beans, but the general rule is to find a positive way to present unfamiliar options without condescension and to involve her in the discovery of something new as much as possible as opposed to making her the ignorant recipient of superior information devolved from on high. There's something to be said for the Edible Schoolyard method of making kids into gardeners to get them excited about eating chard they grew on their pizza. You can do something a little more expedient with shopping while learning about new foods. As the teacher, you've got a great source for lessons here, especially in established threads devoted to related topics, such as the recent one here about minimizing grocery bills, started in this forum by someone else closer to your neck of the woods than mine. (Can't think of search terms, but I'm sure someone will offer the link.) Also think about ways cookbooks in your public library might serve as a surrogate for a resource like the Dinner Thread. Let her pick out pictures that look interesting and help her master skills required by recipes.

SYNOPSIS OF FEEDBACK 1) More salt. The published article specifies 1 1/4 t. 2) For second rise, parchment paper or a greased bowl and naked dough work, too. 3) If you prefer a thinner crust, remove the lid before 30 minutes pass. 4) Technique is easily adaptable to a variety of leavening agents, flours and additions. 5) Internal temperature of finished loaf should reach 210 F. 6) The ideal oven temperature is closer to 450 F (MB) than video's 500 F. 7) Recipe is scaleable; 1/2 recipe works beautifully in 3-quart casseroles. Explanations: 2) Several bakers find the floured towel a bit of a hassle, resulting in sticking, tearing or scary, uneven plop into the Dutch oven. Solution 1: Just turn the sufficiently slick bowl containing the shaped dough upside down over the heated casserole. Solution 2: Place dough, seam-side down, on parchment inside a dry basket or bowl. Lift paper and dough to place both into your heated pan when ready to bake. 3) Jackal10 posted photographs of sliced loaves with extremely dark, thick crusts and large holes which he finds less appealing than the thinner crusts of a traditionally baked bread. Abra's tastes differ. 4) Simply monitor degree of hydration, e.g. adding more water when using WW flour, to reach the consistancy of the dough made during your first attempt. For a sweeter bread, dissolve sugar into water when putting dough together, allowing water to cool to around 70 degrees F. 5) Abra's finding after a number of complaints concerning damp results. As one baker observed, this effect can be avoided by waiting until loaf has fully cooled before slicing. Checking for the internal temperature may be the best solution since quite a few loaves end up with a "moist" crumb" (Fromartz). Abra insists that a scale and digital-read thermometer are your best friends, especially when making adjustments to the recipe. 6) However, opinions differ broadly on this. Some prefer 475, others using sourdough or modifying the recipe in different ways think that higher temperatures would be better. 7) See individual posts for further details, including weight in grams and ounces to help in varying amount of recipe made at a single time. * * * SUGGESTIONS FOR FURTHER SUMMARIES: 1) Weight of dough going into pan and weight after baking. 2) PM me if you have definitive, succinct advice or a formula, especially when changing flours, leavening process, etc. At this point, I am not reading everything in the thread, but don't have problems with removing the annoying apparatus of blue-fonted long quotes from my original summary to update basic information. I'd even be happy to list something to the effect of an index: Whole Wheat Bread: Cf. Posts #435; Sourdough: Posts #.....

Ratios, no, but methods, yes: Do like James Beard and cook your rolled oats first for about 5 minutes. I'd also dissolve some light brown sugar, honey or molasses for color and flavor. Let it cool. ETA: Oh, and a little butter. Why not substitute a little milk for the water while you're at it?

Very attractive plating, Kevin. In the summer, another Tuscan variation on dishes associated with other regions is the simple raw tomato, garlic and basil combination for pasta made with torn arugula instead of basil and a semi-mature ricotta in curls instead of grated Parmigiano-Reggiano. Over here, the tougher, almost thick leaves of arugula grown in the ground during hot weather tend to have a stronger, sharp taste that is a bit too hard to take in a salad, but perfect for cooking. Hydroponic methods of growing tender leaves of arugula really cater towards raw use in salads. The flavor is blunted too much to be of much use sautéed in pasta and it may be that the taste does not come through when blended raw, especially competing with good oil and walnuts. At Whole Foods, there is one organic producer that sells its arugula in gritty bunches like spinach vs. washed and pristine in clam shells or bags; it tends to be uglier and a bit of a wallflower as a result, despite the fresh, powerful fragrance. Sometimes it's a bit hardier and assertive, too, though it's hard to predict when a watery taste will cancel out the bite once it hits the pan and wilts. This is something I've discovered when making a simple recipe Deborah Madison published in Gourmet years ago. (Doesn't seem to be on Epicurious.) The first time I prepared it, I jotted down three or four stars in the index and was puzzled at the second attempt when large amounts of the arugula rendered little flavor. It involved sautéing the leaves, but when successfully made, the flavor is pronounced and peppery vs. as bitter as broccoli rabe. I also doubt we have quite the variety of arugula in the US as is available in Italy. Here are just two links in English that discuss & critique the use of the term "rucola selvatica" or wild arugula. Italian explanation: here (clicking on Union Jack results in no change).

Harris Teeter at Pentagon City carries White Lily Flour. Since the supermarket chain began in North Carolina with stores expanding to South Carolina, Virginia, Georgia, Tennessee, and Florida, it carries a wealth of supplies for making cornbread, biscuits and other Southern baked goods, including brands of meals and flours I've never seen before.

FYI, if you haven't caught the Minimalist's no-knead bread bug up in the baking forum, hi thee there anon. Nothing can replicate the beauty that is Divina's oil, but these slices sopping up the brilliant green remind me so much of the effect you get from making the bread. Felt the same way looking through Jamie Oliver's new book on Italian food. Great just as fettunte, slathered with greens, liver, or cauliflower, too... Now in these last few days of November, might I recommend a diet of bread, water and vitamin pills in preparation for the month ahead?

Wonderful suggestions thus far. I recently looked through a book that I suspect you'd love. Just thinking back to some of your interesting combinations in the Tapas-dessert challenge as well as your own posts elsewhere, I get the impressiont you'd have fun with it. Klary, are you reading this? It was written for you, too: Silk Road Cooking, a vegetarian cookbook by a truly gifted expert on Persian cooking. (The author shops at my farmer's market and I helped in a chef's demo in conjunction with the publication. Delicious.) While all of her books are eye-openers--at least for me--this one is not only beautiful to look at, but it's full of interesting flavors to combine with produce, including pomegranates. For the recipes that don't list eggs, Batmanglij offers accommodations for vegans. Salads have already been mentioned. I bought a cucumber, lime and daikon to make two. For Shirazi Cucumber & Pom salad, thinly slice onion and leave it in a sieve, salted to drain to lose sharpness (I usually do this by soaking instead). Combine onion with seedless cucumber and pomegranate seeds. Make a dressing with a crushed clove of garlic, 1 T lime juice, 1 T pom paste (I'm subbing pom molasses that I learned to make from one of Paula Wolfert's books), 1/4 t chili paste or flakes, 2 t honey, 1 t toasted sesame oil, plus S & P to taste. This is all for 1/2 c EVOO. Dress the three main ingredients and serve on bed of lettuce. Sprinkle with feta and walnuts*, if so desired. * * * The daikon is for a salad in which it's shredded along with a roughly equal amount of carrot and sprinkled with the seeds. Simple dressing includes white wine or Champagne vinegar. As the cover of the book indicates, poms are good with perfumed rice dishes. The Azerbajani Pom & Spinach Soup looks good, but the Kermeni Pistachio Soup with pom seeds, even better. From a web site devoted to Asian food, here's the author's recipe for yet another Pomegranate Soup, this with yellow split peas, ground lamb and mint. You may find other recipes here, too. *You'll find a recipe on one of these two sites for a rice salad made with walnuts that are sautéed in grape molasses. I bet the same thing can be done with pomegranate molasses.

Rachel: I have got a LOT of catching up to do to read through your blog in full, though I definitely will. I just wanted to thank you, too, and to say that I am delighted not only to learn more about your signature line, but to see a genuine Southern deep-fry demonstration, here, towards the end. It's lovely to see your new avatar, a visual reminder to come back to this and scan all the pages for words overlooked.

Thanks, Abra! Time just got away from me and I recall that the video (watched over and over, boy am I SICK of that American Express commercial!!!) involved a dough that went for 19 hours, but I suspect you're right. I also have a tempermental oven which seems to be a little on the hot side these days. I have a digital thermometer, I just didn't use it even though it was out on the counter to make sure the kitchen remained warm enough. Next time, promise. Questions for you or anyone else since I will definitely try this method again over the weekend: 1) Have you posted anything here converting recipe into weight vs. volume? I haven't had a chance to reread the entire thread. 2) Has anyone tried to bake a larger loaf in one Dutch oven? I'm planning to move up to 4-5 cups and want to see if someone has advice or results to report.

I spent three formative years in Bloomington and in a terrific thread begun by [no longer] NYC Mike in the forum devoted to Southern Food Culture, was received with skepticism when I made observations similar to yours. Were there Medici in Bloomington, one of the family's country villas would be in Nashville, Indiana where there were two rival places known for fabulous fried chicken. Back then, the setting was idyllic. Lots of trees and rolling hills, popular for that final test for high school students taking Driver's Ed during the summer. * * * Rachel, I second Sandy's praise of your tofu analogy. Those preserves are stunning and that wall of German cookie molds blows me away. I have only one that I use purely as decoration.

I wonder what would happen were you to take a camera in to shoot pictures for John to see. * * * John, Charles simply does not like the kind of pizza produced at 2 Amys, and if I am reading him correctly, finds it's a bit too self-important. See the thread on pizza in dc for further details. I don't think the matter is unrelated to the high, well-deserved praise of Ray's the Steak or good French wine sold at lower prices. I wouldn't knock the notion of authenticity, though. Italians are serious about this kind of stuff, just as the French are. I appreciate all efforts to make those traditions accessible to Americans at home whether on the scale of Marcella Hazan's books or the more modest scale of a neighborhood pizza place. What it comes down to, in part, is the relationship between Italian and Italian-American food.* I personally don't see why someone with an appreciation for the former has to dismiss the latter, sneering at all "red sauce" joints or good, satisfying American pizza with pliant crusts, loads of sauce and lakes of cheese sprinkled with red chili flakes. I've never gone to Comet, but it sounds like it might be closer to Italian-American types of pizza. Nothing wrong with that. There's a place in my stomach for both. *Of course, 2 Amys is not an authentic Italian restaurant.

First, I am extremely pleased. The crust is the best I've ever baked, not too thick at all. The cut loaf resembles nothing I've ever baked before, but instead, some of the best loaves I've purchased. Chewy texture is a delight. BUT: I can see where Jackal10 is coming from in regards to the crumb. Sorry I don't have a digital camera, but after a first rising of 20 hours and second of 2 1/2, I find there are just too many extremely large holes that twist to form tunnels throughout the loaf. This is essentially ciabatta. I'd prefer a more compact slice, as beautiful as the glossy cavities are. I also find the loaf a little damp. Not annoyingly so, but I wonder what to do about it next time, besides check for an internal temperature which I did not. If I left the uncovered loaf in for more than 15 minutes, the bottom crust would have been inedible. One thing I might try is not heating the lid to lower the overall temperature. I'm not sure. Has anyone with an enameled Dutch oven tried baking theirs at a temperature lower than 450 F? One of the reasons my loaf charred a bit on the bottom was that I overfloured my towel. (The kitchen seems coated with a fine, white dusting.) Excess flour landed on the hot surface of the Dutch oven and burned. As for toast? Just lightly golden, spread with butter, it would make a Quaker out of Pierre Hermé.

Beautiful, Elie. You've contributed so much to this thread. ETA: MrBJ: Of course you like something with kale! As for instructions for soaking, they probably are designed for unhulled farro. Already expressed a bit of restlessness to Kevin in a PM last month and have been playing on other forums instead, but definitely the holidays and end of year things have an effect. But there are other factors such as moving from one country to another, having babies, changing jobs... For me, one reason echoes an early post by Kevin concerning how much we take Tuscan food for granted. Since I'm so used to it, it's not the same as learning about Piemontese culinary contributions (beyond gianduia), or getting out the pasta machine for the first time in about a decade to fill ravioli with cookies. It's sort of like that tour of the White House I've never taken, either. I still do wish to make budini di riso (the little pastries vs. what we in U.S. call a pudding) and the schiacciata that would have been best back in early October. There is too much other baking to attend to for now, but the way I look at it, these threads are easily resusitated when the spirit moves. Well, tis very late and my loaf of salted bread has stopped crackling. Much to do later this new morning. Buona Festa, tutti! And remember, if you find yourself in Tuscany at Thanksgiving, there's plenty of turkey and plenty of zucca to bake a pie, but for cranberry sauce, get yourself a jar of red currant preserves and doctor it a bit.

It sounds like Rice Krispies! The crackling was intense as the loaf was removed from the oven. My observations thus far: 1) Flour counter lightly? Ha! It may be different on stainless steel, but despite comments about how liquid this was, I was not prepared, being more accustomed to adding flour to the bowl when dough is in the state mine was in after about 20 hours, not pouring it out on the counter. Fine and easy to control especially after watching the video in which JL advises you to pat it down, then fold it. Still, there was watery residue on the bottom of the Pyrex bowl and a lot of warm moisture in the air from simmering stock exacerbated the "problem". Breeze to handle, fold over and let rest, but after 15 minutes of resting, once plastic was lifted, the dough had absorbed all the flour on top and on the bottom. Stuck to counter a bit, though that, too, easy to remedy. Therefore, I ended up incorporating quite a bit more flour by sprinkling surface twice, the second time to shape the loaf. Verdict: I don't think it would be a bad idea to put waxed paper on the counter and flouring it before dumping out contents of the bowl. 2) Will try to eliminate the floured towel perhaps next time, though I am curious and wonder why some of us had soggy patches on the bottom of our towels, while most posts don't mention a bad clinging effect. I suspect I overcompensated for the fear that the dough would spread out if I left it just on the counter, wrapped in a single towel. (I should have tried it anyway since the loaf really is shaped once it hits the hot pot.) So, I put the wrapped dough inside a different glass bowl. The glass, in turn, encouraged moisture to build and when I unwrapped the towel, a sizeable amount (1/3 cup?) was stuck to overly floured towel. I scraped that off and put that on top of my loaf, sort of like a Sumo wrestler's topknot. Fine. Spread into a free-form, rustic flourish. So, I will also try eliminating the bowl during attempt number three. 3) Trust your nose Ten minutes after I took the lid off the Dutch oven, I could smell the loaf in the other room. Since the top was such a light color when I got my first peep, I decided to wait five more minutes. By then, top looked great, but bottom has a couple of black patches that are better for pizza than bread. Verdict: See if I can raise the rack in the oven, i.e., if the Dutch oven will still fit. Also: 4) Double the recipe for my Dutch oven (6 quart?), or at least move up to 4 1/2 to 5 cups of flour and so on. Loaf looks beautiful, but many of the slices will not be very tall. Others seem to have noticed the same thing. I'm looking forward to trying it in the morning. The crust does look amazing. ETA: I just read the post right above this. Seems my first attempt is in keeping with the experience of others, given the advice my resolutions echo.

What I like to do is lift solids out of the stock pot with a pair of tongs and place them all in a separate bowl. This is not always the best thing to do since the flesh on chicken parts may slip away from bone and plop back into the pot, potentially muddying it up a bit, but this was not the case this weekend. I then double strain the cooling stock (once with large, fine strainer with handle over a large lipped bowl, then a second time with a tea strainer over the empty plastic containers ( 3/4 c. capacity to 32 oz. yogurt size). When enough time has passed, almost a cup of stock collects at the bottom of the bowl containing solids. Once this is strained, I press on the solids that I plan to discard (saving some for dinner with fleur de sel and lots of black pepper; comfort food refined by a glass of wine, good bread and runny cheese) and filter that cloudy stuff into the final small container. There's usually enough there to make the process worthwhile. This will go into a stir-fry, sauce, pilaf.... * * * I usually buy chicken legs and wings to make stock since they're less costly than whole chickens because of the high prices shoppers are willing to pay for boneless breasts. There are a number of ways to solve the problem of chicken parts bobbing above the surface of the water while making stock. In my most recent batch, I decided to use leek greens. A blanket of these cover the surface and keep everything else submerged in a way that's a bit gentler than the Mafioso down by the East River on assignment.

Since the thread is incredibly long at this point I am going to summarize some of the feedback I've read thus far for selfish reasons and for the use of readers also new to this thread. SYNOPSIS OF FEEDBACK 1) More salt. The published article specifies 1 1/4 t. 2) For second rise, a greased bowl and naked dough work, too. 3) If you prefer a thinner crust, remove the lid before 30 minutes pass. 4) Technique is easily adaptable to a variety of leavening agents, flours and additions. 5) Internal temperature of finished loaf should reach 210 F. 6) The ideal oven temperature is closer to 450 F (MB) than video's 500 F. 7) Recipe is scaleable; 1/2 recipe works beautifully in 3-quart casseroles. Explanations: 2) At least one baker finds the floured towel a bit of a hassle, resulting in sticking, tearing or scary, uneven plop into the Dutch oven. Just turn the sufficiently slick bowl containing the shaped dough upside down over the heated casserole. 3) Jackal10 posted photographs of sliced loaves with extremely dark, thick crusts and large holes which he finds less appealing than the thinner crusts of a traditionally baked bread. Abra's tastes differ. 4) Simply monitor degree of hydration, e.g. adding more water when using WW flour, to reach the consistancy of the dough made during your first attempt. For a sweeter bread, dissolve sugar into water when putting dough together, allowing water to cool to around 70 degrees F. To be added later: citations of posts on using sourdough and other types of starters. 5) There are complaints about damp results. As one baker observed, this effect can be avoided by waiting until loaf has fully cooled before slicing. Checking for the internal temperature may be the best solution since quite a few loaves end up with a "moist" crumb" (Fromartz). 6) However, opinions differ broadly on this. Some prefer 475, others using sourdough or modifying the recipe in different ways think that higher temperatures would be better. * * * My dough will be ready for its second rise some time early this evening (put together at midnight). I will come back to this post and edit it several times to add more points, attribute comments to their authors, and supply findings from posts I have not had a chance to read yet. I'll post my own results separately since this first effort will probably follow the published instructions rather closely. To make this post useful, feel free to send a PM with an equally pithy summation of feedback you consider important and I'll gladly add it before my opportunity to revise this post has ended.

"Anise" is to "fennel" what "yam" is to "sweet potato." Just to be utterly clear: Since many supermarkets apply the word "anise" to fennel bulbs in their produce department, assume that recipes calling for fennel bulbs, stalks and/or fronds can be prepared with the vegetable your local Giant/Safeway/Kroger's/Stop & Shop may be calling "anise." That's why pictures of fennel online look like the anise you picked up in the store. The word "anise" according to Lynne Rossetto Kasper is inaccurately used to refer to fennel bulbs in grocery stores and supermarkets. Same goes with "yams," an African tubular that is not identical to the sweet potatoes that get mashed and buried under gooey marshmallows or syrupy pecans in some homes on Thanksgiving in the U.S. GG's useful link was educational for me since I had been taught that "anise" is simply a different word for "fennel" when it comes to both the bulbs and the seeds. As for the question regarding uses of the feathery fronds: If they're in good shape, use them as a garnish, chopping them a bit or at least shredding them so they resemble dill. Pretty sprinkled over dishes. They add flavor the same way a fresh herb does. If you're shaving fennel for a salad, you usually cut off the stalks and the root end, leaving the core intact (just be sure to cover cut surfaces in lemon juice quickly to thwart discoloration). When braising fennel, often recipes instruct you to remove the core. In any case, reserve the parts of the fennel you're not using. Wash, chop and freeze. Especially when you have lots of leek greens, etc. around the house, you can pull them out of the freezer and use them to make a vegetarian stock.

Indeed! Except, what do you do when everyone is absolutely stuffed--if from the other end than the turkey--by the time dessert comes around? I always make a very traditional pumpkin pie (organic pumpkins, light cream or 1/2 & 1/2 vs. family's can of evaporated milk, a combination of brown sugars and plenty of spices) since it is my favorite dessert, period. However, I just got asked to add a second dessert which cannot contain nuts, much as I looked longingly at a gorgeous peacan-studded square cake Abra just test-baked for Thanksgiving. I'm peeling almost two pounds of chestnuts and don't want to go too elaborate after that. Since I am bringing it, it can't be a crostata pulled right from the oven. So possibilities in mind: Apple-quince fruit tart-- Possibly gallette, depending on whether I wish to do an elegant pattern with alternating pink and golden slices on top of a custard or go with something more rustic. I've just started to cook with quinces and love the color they become when cooked. Chocolate gingerbread layer cake, bare sides. Filled with applesauce (need something to keep it adhesive so second layer doesn't slide off) & frosted with whipped cream with sprinkling of candied lemon peel and diced candied ginger.

Look at how much you've given us and it's not even noon on the first day of your blog! I've only just learned Indiana is your home, Rachel. I can't remember the last time I heard anyone refer to Lafayette! As someone who's only lived in semi-Southern parts of the U.S., I'm wondering what signs of the south you recognize in this part of the midwest. I also didn't know your family includes (a) culinary professional(s) and am looking forward to more proud and lively news of your world. Since this is a full week ahead, I hesitate in requesting a tutorial in a proper batch of perfectly golden fried chicken, but I would be grateful were you to teach us a thing or two about a southern favorite during your trip at the end of the week. And, finally, would you mind explaining this "Moire non"? Cajun? Not an allusion to the Italian names of the siblings of Zeus, nor watered silk, nor optical scanning devices, I am guessing.

Parmigiano-Reggiano (Still with the meatballs.)