Pontormo

Mark: I trust you, too. What I don't trust is food photography. The pictures do not always correlate with the recipes. This is not about using shaving cream to represent stiff egg whites; that's another matter altogether and worthy of its own thread if one wasn't started long ago. For example, I have one book by Jacques Pepin in which full spears of broccoli appear instead of the small chopped pieces specified in a nifty form of quick preparation that was the entire point of the recipe, so the photographer's decision was particuarly unfortunate. I think the chicken on the same plate is not quite right either. Drawings are not immune either; last night I noticed a recipe for a summertime soup with cantaloupes. The pretty line drawing of watermelon wedges with seeds probably stems from the fact that the title only indicates "Melon..." This is getting OT re the cookbook. I imagine the garnish was a decorative embellishment. Bryan made the same shrimp and raved briefly about the sauce.

It was this post with its long series of increasingly seductive photographs that inspired me to reserve a copy of the cookbook at the public library. (This is something I have been trying to do lately to stop buying so many books. However, it only makes me want the good ones even more.) Question: One thing I'd like to know is why Idaho (aka Russet) is specified in EVERY single recipe that calls for potatoes. A clue appears in Pedro's instructions, not excerpted here: do not slice all the way through the potato; snap it to release starch. Thus a starchier potato makes sense for some recipes, but not the ones that call for frying smaller cubes, right? And wouldn't russets break up in some forms of preparation? I haven't looked through the entire thread, but Rochelle, thanks for recommending sofrito for a potato tortilla which I will probably make with Carolina potatoes sold to me by Heinz, the bearded farmer whose photo is on p. 45 of the book...unless I make the gazpacho. Reports of a few things I haven't seen here yet will come later in the week. Meanwhile, Bryan, your dinner party looks wonderful, especially the croquetas.

Shalmanese: I hope your move went well and you are starting to stock your kitchen with the riches of Seattle. FYI: There are lots of Southern recipes for cornbread that do not call for any fat in the batter itself other than the percentage in the buttermilk or soured milk. Butter is then melted in the cast iron skillet--or pan--which was placed in the oven (or left there, in my case) first to heat up--and swirled to coat the entire surface before you pour in the batter. You do have to check the bread about 10 minutes before recommended time, but it shouldn't burn. I just made a Southern recipe in which there is a little more liquid than cornmeal and no flour, sort of a 1.15: 1 ratio not including eggs vs. 1:2 in your recipe. (Interesting results BTW; good.) My skillet is a bit wider than called for and it was fine. Mind you, I used whole fat buttermilk and not soy milk. I tried making shortcake biscuits with soy milk once and the results were dreadful, too.

The "No Dogs, Please" policy has been in effect at the Dupont Circle farmers market for several weeks. Responses have ranged from unsolicited gratitude to "I am never coming back here, again!" Personal insults are rare, but biting. Do other markets in the area implement similar policies or make unenforced requests? * * * In Tapas by Jose Andres, Heinz of Next Step Produce appears in the two-page spread introducing the chapter on potatoes. * * * Standing before me in line was a small, slim man with salt & pepper hair, blue jeans, trendy rubber-soled vented sandals that tie, a chef's jacket buttoned all the way up and tall, stiff chef's hat. Two young women stood to the side and took photographs "for a pilot," they explained. Meanwhile, a few Dames d'Escoffiers were spotted in civvies, including Riz Lacoste selling peaches and corn to help out Toigo.

I'm really psyched, too, since there are still tomatoes and eggplants at the farmers' market. (I will be cooking Chinese & Spanish food this week, but catch up soon.) Not sure I'll be brave enough to coat an eggplant in chocolate, but I would very much like to push on beyond pizza and calzones, especially when it comes to seafood and cheese. Nonetheless, I hope that some of our eGullet experts would be willing to help us out with local traditions in making pizza and once there's a chill in the air, ragu. I don't remember suggesting we combine Le Marche with Umbria, just Abruzzo & Molise. Hmmm. I say we stay with Hathor while she's still in Umbria in November. We can all use a break around Capo d'Anno and then wait till spring or summer of 2007 to solidier on into the remaining regions. I'd make a case for covering Trentino-Alto Adige in January or February, though, since some of us live in areas where it's been known to snow .

DAHLING, give credit where credit is due! I have to say that mug was too you to miss. Have a great week!

That sentiment deserves a smiling pause. * * * Henry & Ling: Your entire banquet is inspiring. I am low on a few items and one of the better Asian grocers in this region gets a shipment of produce on Saturday afternoons. Would it be possible to describe how the long beans were prepared? Was there something new you tried that made them your favorite dish of the evening? I'm glad you are planning to take things easy, today. It's been quite a week. I'll let this serve as an early thank-you for a truly entertaining blog filled with hedonistic pleasures that you both balance with a warm, generous spirit.

Bryan: What year are you in college? Do you like what you're studying? Do you enjoy taking classes on subjects unfamiliar to you for the sake of exploring new things? Do they ever change your mind, challenge long-held values and opinions you formed before going to Duke? Do you discover anything you value by reading, writing, performing experiments, viewing, watching, analyzing data and so forth? When a professor or friend offers a new perspective, an alternative way of seeing that differs from your own, or if either corrects you, do you ever learn something new, agree, or find new ways to express your own, original, personal insights? Are you in North Carolina because Duke University is a good school and at Duke because you personally agree with your parents that having a degree from a prestigious institution is a professional credential? Did you choose the school at all out of an interest to know anything about unfamiliar regions of the USA? I ask these questions because I wonder if you really want to be in school now. Why not take time off and seriously devote yourself to cooking in kitchens you admire in parts of the world that suit you more than North Carolina? You are young. Once you have refined your skills, feel as confident as a baker as you do in the other forms of food preparation that interest you, you can always return to academic or pre-professional studies. I don't think the CIA is the answer for you either. You seem to need to be away from the classroom at least for a little while. Return to Duke if you want or transfer to a place where you won't have to depend on mail-order or trips back to NYC for supplies. Consider designing your own major if the school permits, culling from established discipines to master the skills in business, chemistry, history, math, languages, Graphic Design and writing that would suit your own agenda and professional goals. (I also think there should be some courses in non-professional fields to shape personal goals.) Through Independent Studies and a creative Senior Thesis, you might be able to devote more effort to the project now underway, though such an effort might hold less appeal after racking up professional credentials. Given your personal loves in cooking, if you're not fluent in Spanish and Japanese already, you might consider more formal training in either or each to make cooking in kitchens abroad more feasible.

I'm guessing this queen owns FABULOUS shoes.

Any pictures? Saying the place can be rebuilt is not very reassuring...

In the early years of the cult of Francis of Assisi (d. 1226), biographers stressed how eloquent and charismatic the saint was despite his illiteracy. A lack of formal training distinguished him from the lofty theologians of venerable monasteries and the Roman papacy. Delivered in Italian vernacular instead of the incomprehensible Latin of the Learned, his sermons spoke directly to the people and they were said to respond more enthusiastically to his simple images than to references to Augustine and the complex doctrine of transubstantiation. Unfortunately, there is a long history of responding either ambivalently or with hostility to authority. It is very hard to impart expertise without being accused of snobbery. When one's field already is labeled as elitist (e.g. "gourmet" dining, art, music, literature...just about anything critiqued except sports), then the task at hand is even that more challenging.

What about that blue-veined mythological beast with a social conscience: Gorgonzola?

Happy fifth-month! The number five signifies balance especially when combined with numbers such as (you) two. It evokes the five elements of Water, Earth, Fire, Wood and Metal as present in your evening: seafood, grain (bread), seared meats, and the surfaces upon which your food was served and prepared. What a lovely way to celebrate. Here's to September 30! * * * The cookbook collection is indeed mind-boggling. SHELVES devoted to chocolate! Thanks for the recipe for the corn soup, Henry, and Rachel, for the learned discourse on grits. Lorna, when you get a chance, I'd love to know more about the gastrique and the avocado foam.

Ludja, I want to thank you especially for inspiring this Yankee to check out the book. I've heard and read about Edna Lewis, even her close friendship with the book's narrator, but never bothered to investigate further. Racheld's response to Ling's question provided a second nudge. I only wish you and other scalloped tomatoes/vegetable plate makers in the Dinner thread advised us to high y'all hither and yon. I would have visited this thread earlier. Judy, I have to say your description of a meal early in this thread is truly eloquent--lovely! The vegetable-based dishes look fantastic! It makes sense that there are so many dishes perfect for the muggy weather and summer produce of Washington, D.C. And man, does that Lane Cake look amazing!!! * * * REGARDING PREFERRED INGREDIENTS A NORTHERNER WOULD NORMALLY SHUN In high school I worked at McDonald's when they used lard for french fries. My stepfather stopped buying the fat when his doctor put him on a radically altered diet in which all fried foods were forbidden. Therefore, I am ambivalent: a bit hesitant about using lard and rarely deep fry anything, but willing to make biscuits with lard at least once. I know about the lard thread in another forum and will consult it. The two things that make me more reluctant are the following: 1) White cornmeal 2) White Lily flour & bleached Gold Medal All-Purpose flour Please redirect me if there is a fine discussion of these Southern preferences in the Baking forum. I can also conduct a search using Google on my own. However, if anyone here has an opinion based on personal experience, I'd like to know more, especially in the form of comparative analysis. It was my impression that white cornmeal is more refined than yellow cornmeal, and that it not as nutritious. For example, it lacks the Vitamin A the latter provides. Ditto regarding the preferred soft flours made from wheat. I have new bags of King Arthur All-Purpose and Bread flours and like the results I get from each. In fact, I thought the larger amount of protein in bread flour promoted rising. I get the impression that Scott Peacock believes KA does not produce baked goods as light as the more refined flours do, though KA is fine for a few items. I also really like the gritty texture and taste of newly ground yellow cornmeal and am a miser when it comes to mail-ordering food. What would the advantage be in switching to white cornmeal?

While searching for something completely different, I just discovered an invaluable entry in the Slow Food Travel web site that eGullet members shoud read: Dean Gold's recommendations. The author knows his wines, especially, and runs a very nice restaurant that models itself on the kinds of places he admires in Venice.

Buttercup & Rochelle: Thanks for the information. Funny, I never saw the chorizo at Whole Foods, but I might not have been looking in the right place. It is, in fact, the thread on Jose Andres's cookbook that got to me; I want to make the potatoes with chorizo. Chanteuse: I second the recommendation for DiBruno's. Go to the Pennsylvania forum where I believe there's a thread devoted to the store or to the Italian neighborhood. Cf. MarketStEl's food blog. Here in D.C., the item you are looking for is quite common, sold as "alici." Whole Foods sells them in the section where you find roasted peppers, artichoke hearts, etc. in small plastic containers. * * * As for fresh chorizo, I bought some at Whole Foods. The flavor was great, but I found them extremely dry. Is this the nature of the sausage? A consequence of the way Whole Foods makes sinful foods "healthful"? Or might I simply be overcooking it? If your answer is B, a superior source of fresh chorizo would be appreciated.

What dedication! You even manage to cook with this thread in mind on what sounds like a wonderful vacation. The lamb from Sunday looks especially good. However, do go back and reread Hathor's post above. She may not have picked up your gauntlet, but she did make fava beans.

To the contrary. You could learn a lot from Alice Waters, Deborah Madison, Suzanne Goin, Russ Parsons... It makes sense that the state that produces the largest amount of produce for the rest of the country, one with a year-round growing season would be a Mecca for good chefs and inventive authors of food-related literature. Vineyards, cheese-producers, and families arriving from Mexico and Latin America also play a significant role in shaping California's wonderful food. Prejudice responds to one aspect of California's reputation, to be sure. But think of the number of excellent chefs and cookbook authors who were raised on the kinds of meals that Nigel Slater describes in Toast!

Recently, Busboy started a provocative thread inspired by the experience of being an American Abroad during a grueling heat wave: The French and Ice. He commented on reactions to his family's requests for ice in their drinks and the scarcity of ice-making machines they took for granted back home. It made me think about other distinctions between the foodways of European and U.S. natives, and in particular, the way we take our coffee. We all drink Italian-style coffees now, if in paper cups at inappropriate hours of the day. However, I for one, never put sugar in my cappuccino or the coffee I make at home. The few times I've been a guest of Turkish friends or little old ladies who go through lots of effort to make a special, highly sweetened coffee involving vigorous stirring of lots of sugar, I could barely drink it without making a face. In Italian bars, you sometimes get looked at funny if you ignore the sugar while sipping your coffee. Hell, even if you don't stir it into your freshly squeezed juice. It seems as if everyone else there always reaches for the sugar. Is this in fact another American peculiarity?

Oops, JAZ, yes, I did overlook the request for fiction in my messianic belief that O's D would be perfect. Fab, never heard of it, so thanks for rec. And if your group demands Stephen King, perhaps you should look into one of the Nero Wolf mysteries by Rex Stout; Too Many Cooks is most appropriate. The detective-protagonist is fat and his persnickety dining is just one of the devices used to demonstrate how cultivated the agoraphobic snob is.

I personally am glad the gorgonzola flavor was too mild since the rest of the second course suits me just fine. One of the reasons I objected to the blue cheese here is that it strikes me as being at odds with the wonderful, wonderful marriage of peach, corn and pork. The chutney components add the pizzazz; the blue cheese just interferes with it. The longer explanation of the relationship between the chutney in main dish and the components in the dessert increased my already high opinion of Lorna's sophistication. I may have played with the American Idol comparison (forgive me, but I have never seen Iron Chef), but its lessons prove true. I gave IC #1 a .85 advantage over IC #2, but didn't cast a vote. I can't say there's a large contigency of dizzy 14-year old girls from the South anointing Henry the victor in THIS case, but I will congratulate the new Iron Chef and look forward to a rematch. Now, Lorna: let's see that stash of chocolate you keep at Henry's place. And what did you two have for breakfast to recupe from last night?

If you go back to your original thread, you'll find that a number of excellent books were mentioned. Have you tried any of the ones by authors in the U.S.? Are they accessible at libraries if too expensive to buy? In addition to Madison, Jaffhrey, Thomas, Bishop and perhaps even Passionmelondragon or whatever her name is, there are authors of books devoted exclusively to vegetable-rich cuisines such as Italian or Persian, as well as excellent books that focus on baking and vegetables. It sounds as if you need to spend more time looking at established topics devoted to cookbooks or elsewhere online scouring book reviews to identify cookbooks that intrigue you. I'd encourage you not to focus exclusively on vegetarian tomes (see comment about Italy & Iran/Persia above). For example, I've found new ideas for vegetarian dishes in a book by Suzanne Goin that received awards in 2005 and made David Leite's list of best books for that year. Ludja (and indirectly Racheld in her learned discourse on grits) recently inspired me to check out a book on the cooking of the American South by Edna Lewis and Scott Peacock, and it, too, has ideas you'd probably like even if you can't get okra in the U.K.--or can you? While it's been ages since I've used the first cookbook Molly Katzen wrote as part of the vegetarian co-op, Moosewood, I recall exactly the kind of early cooking vegetarians did without formal training and without much research or a foundation in cuisines that would inspire later generations of talented chefs and authors. That said, some of those hippiesque ventures are not all bad. At least once a year I adapt a Moosewood recipe for mock Shepherd's Pie that relies on a combination of shredded, thawed frozen tofu, toasted walnuts, sauteed onions, herbs, lemon juice and soy sauce as a sub the ground (minced) beef or lamb. Sounds wretched, but it's brilliant. ETA: I can't believe the fortuitous timing! Milagai, there's an implicit response to one of your questions here in addition to observations that click with your own. Over time, Katzen & Moosewood have parted ways and both have gotten much more professional as they've responded to new trends in the food world, and their fringe-status has become more mainstream. Of course, their development took place during three decades in which a superior and wider range of raw materials became available for vegetarian cooks to use, at least in the United States. I can't speak for what seems to be a less cosmopolitian location in the UK (true? this is only an inference) where there is not a weekly farmers market down the street.

"He" you say? Look at him, the poor dear! No wonder he turned to booze (with a wiener inside the bottle no less).

Omnivore's Dilemma. This link demonstrates how much controversy and discussion the book generates. Perfect for people who slip back and forth between discussing the book and talking about themselves. Everyone will end up comparing the ways they shop, cook and the relative merits of nearby places to buy groceries. Kitchen by Banana Yoshimoto which you can browse here. It's short, quirky and utterly different if you've never read the author before. (She tends to return to same subjects.) Impressive as the work of a 24-year old and impressive still among startling first novels. Quite touching. Reading first page got to me right away. Delightfully short. Seemingly effortless, simple, straight-forward prose. Food as comfort, kitchen as home, family, food when mourning, identity, loss, no (wo)man is an island even in Japan, friendship.... Since your other friends in book club are not foodies, they may be interested in books you take for granted. Their first MFK Fisher, for example. Tender to the Bone, especially if some in the group remember the 70s or enjoy autobiographical writing. Heat is a fun, fast read but I don't know that there's much to talk about other than admiration for the wit and observational skills of dynamic author, or the last trip to Italy or best restaurant meal.

Thanks for explaining that the crisp polenta was actually just fried polenta. Ahhhh! Then there's another factor to consider beyond the three mentioned in scoring: to what extent does one see a progression of themes within the unfolding of the meal? The Stilton biscuit gives way to the Gorgonzola polenta, both serving as textural contrasts to softer elements. My mind's tongue still would prefer the elimination of the blue cheeses (which I love BTW), but I am glad you got a perfect 10 on one dish, Lorna! What I like is the fact that the crisp/soft elements recur in the tart, filling and ice cream, which I am pleased to see, lacks blue veins. However, the green mint bows to the avocado cream's curtsy. Again, very clever orchestration. Well thought out, indeed! (BTW: extended discourse devoted to one of Henry's dishes would serve the cause of mystery! ) I'm no Rachel, but Whole Foods stopped calling the ground corn it sells "polenta" and now calls it "grits." I don't know if it's due to Tarafication of food culture, the fadification of Italian food, or if it's symptomatic of a desire to turn inward during a period of international uncertainty. PS. It's great to learn you two cook side by side regularly. Plenty of couples can't.