Pontormo

EXACTly the same--which surprised me. Thought I was set in my ways before moving to the midwest, etc. However, took the "Advanced" version and got 30%. Seems just about right. * * * The important thing to keep in mind is that categories are always artificial, imposed on the data that get listed under a rubric like "the South" due to recognized commonalities. The exceptions to rules or unique features of say, Louisiana's cuisine(s) are what makes the category interesting. They give you a feel for the different forces that shape the culture under scrutiny. One factor not yet mentioned, I don't think, is the central importance of African-Americans. Most of you remember discussing this issue after reading Their food. (Relevant, too, is this more recent piece.) The Great Migration north disseminated a lot of Southern cooking. Does anyone talk about Diaspara Food in this context? As for D.C. and its lack of really fine Southern fare, I imagine factors are complicated. However, the first time I moved here, there was ONE good rib place. Started by a former lawyer, I seem to recall. Bob's? Dave's? Some guy's name. But what do I know? Scored a 30% and fried a chicken black.

Gilb3rt, I don't know where you live in the Netherlands, but if you look at Chufi's most recent blog, she mentioned how she usually sells used cookbooks on Queen's Day in Amsterdam. I've always had great luck with the used booksellers who register with amazon.com in the States. I don't know how many small European businesses offer the same deals.

I'm not Franci, but I followed the same advice from Richard Olney's book, Lulu's Provencal Table where the mixture's called a blanc.

Yes, thank you so much for a fabulous report. My favorite sentence is the one about not being able to control your shoulders. I had never had much of a desire to go to Strasbourg before, but your warm glow is contagious. (A little shock, though. Last time I was in Paris I remember everyone, everywhere advertised that they had Poulaine. But Haagen Dasz!!!)

Franci, we won't pry, but I do hope that whatever caused your disdain for this region can be overcome. While we're waiting for Divina to eat her marrow with Dario and sit down a spell, might I invite you to try this Tuscan salad? Kevin mentioned how important beans and soups are in this region and Shaya photographed some gorgeous Tuscan kale in the thread about soups. Something else I associate strongly with this part of Central Italy is the habit of eating little crostini while you're waiting for the kitchen of your favorite nearby bar to finish making that day's pasta at lunchtime. A good, strong chopped chicken liver spread is mandatory at this time of year, maybe a salty, garlicky spinach--chopped tomatoes with basil in the summer. ETA: thanks for the info about the sale, JasonZ.

A vegan from Texas named John Cared deeply how lobsters got on. Same goes for hens And pigs in their pens And udders, he shudders, "Come on!" "Mommy cows should be nursing their broods, Not some fully grown, butt-scratching dudes. As for ducks and their throats No more stuffing down oats— Just purchase them froze at Whole Foods!" "We read stories to them every night, Tuck them in—not terribly tight They range free and play sports On fields, lakes and courts And when axed, waddle into the light."

Scarpetta, thank you for posting! I had been asking about traditions associated with this time of year just the other day.

Ummmm... Until your next trip, this will do: red kuri's in the fourth basket (from upper left in background) in this photograph. Cooked one last night myself. Wonderful, smooth texture right in between butternut and buttercup, denser than the former but not as dry as the latter. This month I am determined to use Ada Boni's book since I've only prepared a recipe or two. Looking through it a few days ago, I noticed that there are at least four recipes for soup. I'm also interested in Lucca now that we've referred to the city's specialties in this forum a few times. P.S. Budini di riso !!!!

Franci, we can always count on you for interesting ideas that are not always found in English-language cookbooks. I keep forgetting how good tiny meatballs are in soups. I actually used my leftover cardoons in a puréed soup this weekend and have to say I am becoming a fan of the vegetable despite the less than perfect specimens available to me. It looks as if you can find some really good ones in London.

And were I clearer, I would have said that the recipe for the crostada did not suit me at the moment since I was looking for something that combined nuts and chunks of apple. Instead, the dessert from Malgieri's book involved making a kind of reduced raisin-applesauce that is spread on top, I guess with the nuts. (I borrowed the book from the library, so don't recall all details.) So, I popped over to a different forum and baked a cake from the Southern United States instead.

What fun! If the school's kitchen burned down (I seem to recall in a recent post, unless it was old news revived), at least your children can doing some of their own cooking at home. I am happy to learn what Hide selected. That cookbook has a mixed reputation here. I am personally a fan and have followed just under a dozen of the recipes, three of which were revelations and only two leaving me indifferent or unhappy. I've simplified my chicken stock considerably thanks to this book and like some of its detailed illustrations of technique. I look forward to your report, Kristin, especially after your blog this summer.

I'm well known for making desserts for this group. I even joked to someone that he should make potatoe ice cream since he likes to make ice cream and it seems to be a common theme on "Iron Chef". (make ice cream out of the secret ingredient) ← I love Janet's idea. This would be distinctive. The second Moosewood cookbook has a recipe for a really good Russian chcocolate cake made with mashed potatoes. Very moist and not at all heavy. I no longer have my copy, but perhaps there is someone out there with the book or a different recipe. One of the best things I made recently with potatoes was in Suzanne Goin's cookbook, Sunday Dinners at Lucques, however, fresh heirloom tomatoes made the dish. Try to make this an event earlier in the year next year: carmelized onions, herbs, slivers of amazing yellow potatoes and four different types of tomatoes are built up with layers dotted with butter, sprinkled with flour and baked, sealed tight for TWO HOURS to absorb a pool of cream. If you have access to Spanish ingredients, the second time I made this with pimenton (smoked, bittersweet) and non-Idaho market potatoes, I loved it. You have to really let the sauce reduce and thicken. It would also be different and I suspect it reheats rather well given the fact that it takes time to transform the spiced water into sauce.

One thing I don't see mentioned here is Indiana. I know, I know, it's the midwest, the Heartland here at eG. However, when I was in high school and moved from New England to Southern Indiana, on our first day, there was a maintenance man finishing up a few things in our place whose accent was one of the thickest drawls I ever heard. Hoosiers made fun of Kentucky all the time, in a way that lets you know there is a close identification with the South. In a charming, touristy spot out in the woods called Nashville, fried chicken is the specialty and the Bean Blossom Festival? Hons, that there pickin' is Southern. Of course, the growing popularity of "country music", whether traditional bluegrass or mainstream pop is one of the forces that pokes holes in the boundaries that separate the South from the rest of the nation. (Knowing something about the underbelly of Indiana's history, especially in the early 20th century also makes the case for its inclusion.)

Arrivederci! Judith, thank you for making this month's thread particularly special. It's a good day for zucca, remembrance, flowers and lighting candles to whomever one calls upon for rain, temperate weather, fulsome grapes on the vine, olives, peaches, heavy hams, happy lambs, and bread with perfect crust, crumb, speckled with pockets of air. Some day I will spring for little birds, but they're rather dear here. Between your quail, Kevin, and Klary's rhapsodies elsewhere on guinea fowl, I am feeling not so very Saint Francis today. Franci, I have to say your treat from Assisi is beautiful and so much like a strudel it was perfect for the occasion. I was planning to use the same combination of raisins, nuts and apples to make a crostada-like speciality from the city since Nick Malgieri includes a recipe in his book on Italian desserts. However, what I didn't like is the fact that the fruit becomes a kind of syrupy jam to spread over the pastry. Well, on to panforte and schiaciatta...

Something else to consider is merely treasuring the porcini since they last forever as long as you keep them in a jar in a dry place until you're inspired to use them for a meal. I prefer to soak them in boiling water, heated wine or broth and strain the liquid to incorporate into the risotto, soup, braise or sauce. Porcini powder's very good, too, of course. There are some excellent flavored vinegars, but olive oil is something I like on its own, blended with other flavors only when marinating, cooking or dressing a salad.

Sure, though I will have to delay things and temper choices due to a campaign to eat what's in the cupboard. My problem is that I pretty much know what book is where in the bookcase close to the kitchen. The rest are spread out, depending on their size or (current, perceived) value. What do I do if I close my eyes and grab the anthology of old Wonder Woman comics or The Family of Man? ETA: Just saw Daniel's selection of Edna Lewis's book. Number One: Cool! Do post down in the Southern forum where there are some lively things going on these days. Second: that might be the way to go: with eyes open select a book rarely if never used. I have taken to listing all dishes I've made in the back of cookbooks to avoid the seven-recipe rule. I should select a book in which I've cooked less than seven recipes, preferably the first I spy. Second Helpings from Union Square Cafe, a used book, or doubly neglected tome, which I bought since there are references to Sardinian ingredients. Never made a thing.

Mike: Doesn't this remind you of some of the discussions over in the regional cooking threads in the Italian forum? That is, in terms of diversity within a single culture whose parts share traits. When I moved to St. Louis, I was surprised to find just how Southern the culture was, including the food. I am not just talking big city, where a bus will pick up when you catch the driver's attention in between stops and it's safe to put on the brakes. A friend with relatives out in the gorgeous rural boonies took me to the country where the T-day fare was about as Southern as I've eaten. Washington, D.C. is Southern even if it's filled with Yanks and midwesterners and Ethiopians, Peruvians and Salvadorans. Built on a swamp. Ribs. Buttermilk in pints as well as quarts and pig's feet at Safeway and Giant, even if these two supermarkets aint no Piggly Wiggly.

Dorie: About how many plumped currants secure world peace? I'm about to bake a double batch, adding currants to half and I've forgotten how many I mixed in last time. I know it's a matter of taste, but...

Gilb3rt, non è vero?

Ghostrider, this must be your favorite time of year! Glad you enjoy the thread where so many of us have been inspired by Hathor's posts, and Eli's incredible skills with dough and chaucuterie, et al. I hope you're also looking for Franci's contributions in other forums, such as her rabbit's head and ricotta torta up in the Dinner thread this weekend. As for your pasta, one refrain throughout this year has been how frustrating it is that so many Italian cookbooks neglect to mention the regional origins of recipes. The trend to publish books devoted to a single region is fairly recent. However, the internet helps. For your amatriciana, you don't need many other search terms to discover it's associated closely with Rome, immediately to the south on a map, where Lazio resembles a cornucopia with Umbria spilling forth from the opening. Another head's up for All Soul's Day, or Ognissanti. Anyone baking the Bones of the Dead? Are there special Umbrian (or Tuscan) ways of making these treats--or other traditional things to eat on this festa?

Sometimes a thing of beauty is a momentary joy.

I see this is going to be the longer version of DTB's new post: NPR once ran a story about the fact that a lot of people simply rely on google. Type the word "recipe" first and then go from there. This method works especially well in retrieving recipes for one or two ingredients I have at home that I think might combine well, but I am not sure exactly how I wish to prepare them. I also use it for the monthly cooking threads devoted to specific Italian regions. That way, I end up with unfamiliar sites from all corners of the world, some with only a few recipes. Over time I notice patterns and bookmark reliable favorites. For example, about.com crops up a lot on the first page of lists that google.com compiles. There's a really good, scholarly soul who handles Italian regions. For Southern specialties, the offerings are mixed, but I found something I was able to adapt so well it makes me long for the next ramp season. For international recipes, I find there are a number of sites created for tourists or to promote an author's culinary tours, classes or books. As far as promoting books goes, David Leite's Web site, of course, deserves mention. The site's recipe section is biforcated into the dishes created specifically for the site and selections from recent publications that invite you to sample a few dishes before deciding if the book a worthwhile investment. The lists of recipes are daunting, but you can search the site with specific keywords.

The large numbers of Italian immigrants in the United States and Canada has profoundly influenced the way North Americans eat. Many came Southern regions, hence the emphasis on red sauce that so many disparage as an easy mark. Dismissing red sauce demonstrates you know something about food. I suspect that the rise in the fast-food establishment and the democratization of dining out in restaurants that catered to working-class or middle-class budgets were forces concomitant to the emerging cult of pizza, itself aided by the birth of delivery service. Add to these strains the mass production of dried pastas with names like Ronzoni, though Americans stuck feathers in their caps and called them macaroni a lot earlier. The potential to leap from dried to fresh pastas was there in a long-established market. Then there are the shared qualities of the meatball, the meatloaf and the hamburger that make the former easier to swallow as foreign food. At the nexus of all of these developments is The American Dream and the desire for revolution. Or capitalism and the taste for novelty it fosters. As we all know, French became the language of class and cultivation way back when there was no such thing as the printing press. The elite of 19th-century Russia spoke it. I learned it in elementary school when Spanish or Japanese were not options. Some souls still sing its song though their quests for ice water are drowned out by the oboe. The shadow French Cuisine cast over the culture of the Good American Restaurant blocked out a lot of sun for a long time as a symbol of class and cultivation. It still does. What other options did you have when you went to a good restaurant back in the 1960s? 1970s? 1980s? There were a few so-called Continental restaurants, but they were not the grand ones and most of their menus probably listed approximations of French food. Jump cut to California here. Alice Waters may have spoken with greatest warmth about Southern France and Richard Olney's Lulu first. Bertolli wrote the first cookbook for Chez Panisse, though, including recipes for pasta and risotto. There is a strong affinity between a simple, no-frills approach to French cooking that stresses the quality and quiddity of ingredients and Italian food. Look at the introduction that Judy Rodgers wrote to her cookbook with its nod to both France and Italy. Then, there's Napa Valley and the rising prestige of California's wines. Lots of Italian names there. With all of the forces behind the Californian culinary revolution that crossed the continent, there was receptivity, for sure, amongst the masses who already loved meatballs and lasagna and pizza. French food was for the elite, but Italian food, well, it was more familiar. So when the kids raised on pizza and meatballs grew up and gussied up after they earned some money, with the virtue of novelty instilled in their hungry little hearts, they were prepared for carbonara instead of red sauce, rucola called arugula and little white bowls of EVOO next to the basket of pane Toscana. In turn, as Italian-Americans earned positions of greater respect and prestige, new generations were neither looking for quick approximations of their native foods (Ronzoni) nor masking signs of their origins. We may glamorize the "Sopranos" nowadays, but The Knights of Columbus were worried about the kind of Mafia/red sauce/Mamma Mia image that "The Godfather" or "Moonstruck" project. Northern Italian restaurants may set up a simplistic dichotomy between crude, poor Southern Italy vs. the elegant, cultivated north, but at least Italian cuisine is no longer a monolithic meatball. Their menus acknowledge some of its diversity. They lead the way for a place like Babbo where the bill is high, and dishes from southern and northern regions earn respect no matter how much one might question their authenticity. Batali, thanks to The Food Network and NASCAR, helps to gain even more public recognition so that less ambitious restaurant owners may open places to compete with Olive Garden. Thus the plight of Stanley Tucci and Toby Shalhoub in "Big Night" is no more, though the croissanwich reigns at the drive-through window where I have yet to see anything fried and stuffed into focaccia. As far as home cooking goes, see the numbers of English-language Italian cookbooks that are published compared to the numbers representing other types of food. Last year I looked at the statistics at Jessica's Biscuit where Italy beat France off the soccer field, though Amazon's supply may still favor France. Granted, it is not wise to essentialize the appeal of these books to consumers, either. There are lots of unfussy, homey French dishes one can prepare using published recipes and stuffing your own egg pasta takes time even if the skill is not difficult to master.

Mike: Everything looks fantastic! Glad your family loved it...mostly. As for brining, I recommend browsing the cooking thread on the topic. I much prefer rubbing kosher salt on the cleaned, dried chicken and letting it sit in the fridge for a day or two that way. Cf. reference to Judy Rodgers; it's her preference for Zuni Cafe's famous roast chicken. ETA: Anne, I completely overlooked your extremely kind post that responded to my lack of critical frying skills! Thank you for all your advice and funny anecdotes. Strange how something so basic--an actually cliché when it comes to demonstrating culinary incompetence on TV shows written by those who don't cook themselves--is a recent cause of alarm for someone like me who has been cooking since childhood. For the record, I may have been dramatic last night while posting, but I was not exaggerating when I called the poultry black. David: you're very gracious, but since I atypically altered a baking recipe on a first attempt and deliberately mixed the cinnamons from a bulk jar in a natural foods store with the more delicate, recent purchase, there is really no cause to apologize. Your Web site offers an incredible resource both to authors and to readers like me who appreciate the chance to sample recipes from books we don't own.

Stephen: Oh, to have all those tomatoes! Shaya: I share Judith's love of sage and think it's the perfect time of year to start frying up some leaves again. Both your soups here are beautiful and I like the shot taken of the chestnut soup before it was blended. Ribollita is probably my favorite kind of Italian soup, at least that's what I'd say if forced. I like cooking it so that most of the ingredients are mush. Impressive that you baked unsalted bread for the sake of authenticity, a head-start on the month ahead.