Pontormo

Not wearing my trainers. Just loved the San Giuseppe topic you started. I agree about David Downie's book, Cooking the Roman Way as praised in the current thread on Lazio. It includes a recipe for an Easter bread made with ham and olives. I wonder just how many different Easter breads there are in Italy's regions, including the type that Lidia Bastianich shares from Friuli-Venezia Giulia.

See Post #4 above. Abra was absolutely right on all counts. The Niman Ranch pork was not too lean to cook in this fashion, ending up moist with plenty of broth to reduce and finish with more fresh orange juice. While presentation would have been superior had I cooked the meat in one big chunk, all the crusty bits on the chunks that I ended up "pulling" were an accidental treat.

I had no idea a thread like this existed. Seeing it and curious about a plot twist since I do not watch regularly enough, I googled Rory's name and "Harvard rejection" only to come up with a Wikipedia page on Paris Geller. A Wikipedia page on Paris Geller! At any rate, after a brief introductory paragraph to the character, here's the second: Hmmm. Did someone from eGullet contribute to the entry?

While there is no way to know how these tasted, you might be interested in new report.

The quote below is what I was told when posting a query about guanciale on my local forum. Inspired by Henry Lo's food blog in Seattle, I may actually try knocking on the door of a neighborhood restaurant to find out if the chef would let me buy a little when he makes it again. And Shaya, it's great to see someone new post here! I actually made your primo late in March, using perciatelli and Mario Batali's recipe...so it was VERY hot. A favorite dish, too.

One of the most appealing things about Mario Batali is how much his life responds to his country's values and myths. No son of a Boeing executive embodies the American Dream. Yet it is very cool that he looked back to the Old Country of his father's family and took the risk, with adequate resources, to apprentice himself without pay. The British do not have a monopoly on romanticizing Italy and its transformative powers and Italian food is the big thing here now. We admire such initiative, humility and fearlessness. His work ethic is amazing. He achieved fame and makes megabucks but he is a family man, connected to an eminent Italian-American food-family and is fun. He's a gifted celebrity with a taste for expensive wine, yet seems down to earth: NASCAR, rock & roll, excessive drinking and a lack of fashion sense. He's very much a Guy.

In April 2006, some of us are cooking meals that reflect regional traditions of Lazio. Since Rome is at the nexus of much Jewish cooking in Italy, I thought there might be some interest in exploring the way Italians prepare for Seder. Second, this month Lynne Rossetto Kasper provides an Easter menu in Gourmet that reflects the cooking of Emilia-Romagna. Any culinary recollections of these two holidays in Italy or if relevant, your family, are welcome. Please share knowledge, recipes or documentation of one's own cooking.

I just would like to correct an error since Lynne Rossetto Kasper is a major figure in her field, host of an NPR show and author of a featured article in this month's issue of Gourmet that takes Italian Regional Cooking as its theme.

Nary a lapel pin in sight that night over at Old Ebbitt's Grill despite the nature of the establishment and its location. All the tourists just wore shorts, khakis, polo shirts, cotton knit sweaters.

Some time ago when I was organizing a dinner at a Taiwanese noodle place, I found this related story about dogs. What I REALLY wanted to link in honor of the Year of the Dog was an online posting of a fabulous story in The New Yorker about eating dog as the only woman in the joint. I couldn't remember the writer's name and it eluded me. Judging by the popularity of the thread about pets and food...and all the avatars featuring puppies and other beloved pets, meat from dogs, domestic cats and ferrets would cause greater alarm than horse meat except in Kentucky or Viriginia...or anywhere in the UK below the ruins of Hadrian's wall. This thread is related to a recent discussion in the forum, Adventures in Eating. Recently, Hathor has reported on eating horse in Piemonte, Italy. See Post #255.

You all impress me, enormously. For the record, Amazon.com has responded to requests to correct errors. MR & BP are now called the authors of the cookbook under discussion. Me, I would have put a period after Polcyn and omitted Keller's name unless I felt online sales would be boosted by writing: "With foreword by Thomas Keller". [Moderator note: This topic continues here, Cooking with Ruhlman & Polcyn's "Charcuterie" (Part 2)]

Second, when does 'entertaining" get nasty in journalism--not just the writing of restaurant critics? I got upset about the references to Ling and Zucchini Mama, etc. earlier. I am going to assume the critic does not have any real grudge against these women. She apparently is not comfortable with everything that goes on in eGullet. Fine. However, I'm going to give her the benefit of doubt for a moment (nice string of two unoriginal phrases there) and say that she found the eGullet angle interesting. She is a member. She knows more than the majority of her readers: the RARE thread, the voices of society members, their aspirations (so she thought) and their interests. She is privy to the world online and, at that opening event, in real life. She thought it would be a good hook, an interesting focus. Every writer who teaches tells her/his students, "BE SPECIFIC" so she named individuals and thought there was a little Dorothy Parker does Dave Barry there. She'll entertain. Obviously, as this post indicates, I am not immune. However, lately I have noticed that journalists tend to get just a little too folksy and personal in an effort to be read. Is this what happened? Went wrong? When did it go wrong? And to quote one of those guys who has nothing to do with cooking: "What is to be done?" (Edited because everyone has to be.)

Something else. Please excuse me if it's been said before, but this thread is getting a bit too long for me to catch up with everything since its inception. AG seems to be questioning the owner of RARE's use of eGullet during the period leading up to the opening of the restaurant. Her criticism implies that he's kind of asking for it when the entire process is so visible and open for scrutiny. Then there are ethical concerns, issues of marketing and so forth. Am I reading her correctly? Put aside a less cynical reading of the chef's thread on RARE, i.e., a desire to hear from the kinds of people who eat in restaurants with or without cameras, other professionals in the food business and share with those curious all that goes into such an event. Okay, don't put it aside. I have no problem in seeing multiple motives. Publicity is not dirty. I would like to know how this is different from a restaurant critic joining eGullet, asking members what their favorite undiscovered places in Vancouver are, being clever and witty and not just furthering our knowledge of all things culinary. Nothing wrong with that either, right?

I am marinating pork shoulder right now as per a recipe in Diana Kennedy's Recipes from the Regional Cooks of Mexico for Puerco en Naranja, i.e. a stew with fresh orange juice, garlic, peppercorns and Mexican oregano. I plan to cook it tomorrow. The meat is supposed to be moistened only with orange juice from the marinade and a fresh, second orange. It is not browned in fat first. It is simply placed all in a snug casserole with the skin of an orange and baked FOR TWO HOURS. THEN one is to drain off all but 3 T of pan juices (I hope), and cook it uncovered for another hour. Only then is the meat browned by turning up the oven 50 degrees after it's been drained again. Pan juices that are not pure fat are reduced with juice of yet a third orange that is poured over the meat, and in my case, served with a beautiful Mexican rice with limes and fried plantains, courtesy of Docsconz's thread on his culinary trip in March 2006. Sounds good, no? At any rate, Kennedy begins by praising how juicy the lomo or round boneless loin meat is in Mexico, but advising North Americans to use shoulder or rib end loin instead since our pork is drier. She was writing in the 1970's. I can't imagine what she'd say about the Niman Ranch pork that I bought. To further complicate matters, I asked the butcher to trim & cut the meat into cubes vs. the 1-2 pieces of a larger piece of meat she recommends. Do you think I should keep the flavors, but change methods of preparation? Add some onions just in case? N.B. If this issue has been addressed in earlier threads, please direct me there. Thanks.

So....? Reports! Especially about eGullet members who gave presentations or led sessions.

As much as I like tofu in stir fries, soups, etc., I cannot make myself appreciate cold salads of simpy sauced mashed tofu that a Chinese friend adores.

POSTSCRIPT Since my entry above was the only submission posted here and the deadline has passed, instead of furthering the fictional context in which it is offered, I'd like to supply a little background and a glossary. In trying to respect the terms of the challenge as faithfully as possible, I decided that there are certain parallels between blogs and drama. I figured that in Ancient Greece, the closest parallel to eGullet members showing and telling their culinary world online would be actors addressing an audience on stage. The major liberty I took was to write a very self-conscious opening monologue in which the actor winks knowingly at the audience, letting on that he's fully aware that this is only a play. That kind of discourse is associated most strongly with the modern era and with Luigi Pirendello in particular. I don't think it something Euripedes does, though some Greek comedies may provide parallels. The story of Circe seemed promising since I didn't think being funny about cannibalism in the House of Atreus would be easy. Besides, eGullet is obsessed with pigs. Euripedes was chosen since many of his tragedies take the names of women as their titles. Like Aeschylus, he begins plays with a monologue that provides exposition even though the audience knows all the stories very well; the point is to tell them well. He also likes to change the rhythm by writing lengthy dialogues in which each line is one short sentence long—sort of the classical counterpart to snappy repartee in Film Noir. I tried to imitate that practice, mixing in a little Aristophanes when presenting the Chorus of Swine since the refrain "Koi-koi…" could be viewed as a predecessor to the animal sounds of his Chorous of frogs. By the way, if go to the Web site of The Kelsey Museum, you'll find that Ancient Greek pigs did say "koi-koi, koi-koi…" and not "oink." I was also inspired by an introduction that Emily Townsend Vermeule wrote to her modern translation of Electra: "At first reading, many points of style and content seem so deliberately in bad taste that one suspects an entire parody of tragedy in the high style." I just decided that instead of waiting until later periods of Ancient Greek history when comic playwrights become obsessed with food, write about boastful chefs and so forth, I would fudge the chronology a bit. The pedantic tone was intended in the submission, though not here where I just can't help it. With that in mind, I'll just add a glossary and selected bibliography: Lattimore, Richard, ed. Euripedes V. Chicago & London: The University of Chicago Press, 1959; first paperback edition, 1968. Davidson, James. Courtesans and Fishcakes. The Consuming Passions of Classical Athens. New York: St. Martin's Press, 1998. (Brilliant, fascinating book that provided most of references to Ancient Greek food. Also consult reviews and online excerpts of The Philosopher's Table by Francine Segan and The Boastful Chef by John Wilson.) Hoffman, Susanna. The Olive and the Caper. Adventures in Greek Cooking. New York: Workman Publishing Company, Inc., 2004. (Somewhat frustrating and overwhelming in presentation, but a tremendously well-researched and passionate cookbook that provides a great deal of culinary history along with beautiful photographs and tempting recipes.) Further information about Ancient Greek literature, culture, art, drama and even the names of each day of the week (which I was going to use for a grocery list and diary of a second-century commentator) can be found in various online sources such as WWW.perseus.tufts.edu and books near you. Proskenion—Root word for "proscenium," the stage in an Ancient Greek amphitheater set before elaborate backdrops of sorts. It is separated from the audience's raked rows of marble benches along the side of a hill in a sanctuary (sacred precinct that also includes a major temple) by an orchestra and central altar. Dionysus—Bacchus in Rome. God of wine. Aphrodite—Venus. Goddess of sexual love and therefore beauty. Eros—Cupid. Mamma's Boy Love. Priam—Troy, Ithaca, Odysseus, etc. These are allusions to the Battle of the Trojans and the Greeks, a story that served the basis of much Greek literature, art and drama, including Homeric epic. Kylix—shallow drinking cup, often decorated on exterior and interior (sort of like those "see the kitty" cups used to get children to drink their milk). Osophagos—this Ancient Greek term is the center of much clever debate. Davidson takes it as a theme, translating it first as fish-lover. He then explains that Greeks divided food into three basic categories: sitos—the staple: bread and other grains; opson—everything else, or the "relish" and "potos"—drink. The opson-lover is the foodie who eats for eating's sake, loves variety…especially eel. Circe—'s sister, Pasiphae mated with a white bull to produce the minotaur. Their father was Helios, the sun, their lineage traceable to the titan, Ocean. Therefore, she could be seen as an ultimate osophagos, lover of fish, dried fish, beef, pork and the kinds of rich dishes that snooty Greeks associated with Sicilians. Zeus's calf—Meat was the center of sacrifice, especially cows for the supreme god. Tuna was the exception, for the god of the sea, since it bled a lot. Demeter—One of several deities connected with agriculture, grain in particular. Kantaroi, etc.—wine goblet. Wine usually mixed with water to drink…with the exception of one drink at the symposium: a drunken feast that takes place among men only (well, as diners; female slaves had to join in some of the activities) after they've eaten and thrown scraps from the meal on the floor as offerings to the gods. Wine was described as it is today, using words that evoke fruit scents and containers. Socrates & Plato—reference is to The Republic, a text that Circe and the Chorus of Swine play with later. They're not like Callimedon and preferred austere diets. Shade from Hades—A ghost from the Underworld. Circe tells Odysseus where to find the door to Hades. There a ghost tells him how to avoid a difficult passage and aids his journey once he and Circe produce two sons. Falsetto—all actors were male and wore masks. Song & dance was part of drama. Deipnon—Dinner. The main of two daily meals, the other being late breakfast/early lunch. [spare ribs]—Greeks didn't butcher meat for different cuts, they just tore it up for sacrifice, distinguishing offal from the flesh. Pythagoros—The mathematician really was a vegetarian. Beer—As Davidson puts it, barbarians were barbarians because they drank beer instead of wine, the nectar not just of the gods, but the sign of true civilization.

Searching for regional cookbooks in online catalogs led to results that Kevin reports. While Rome also casts a shadow over Web sites, some acknowledge other areas in Lazio. Here are a few, including the familiar and what may be new: Accademia Italiana della Cucina--The recipes are in Italian only, but short and plentiful. The Home Page of the site supplies an introduction in English. Lazio, Region Cook Around, Lazio Delicious Italy Ancient Roman Recipes online Roman Jewish Cooking--I am including only the first link I found on a topic that is richly represented online. Rome--About Italian Food Mario Batali show list Edited to remove and replace one link. I've discovered that there are quite a few Web sites that promise recipes, but are really created to display ads and encourage potential tourists to use the services they post. The link to the recipe tends to be "under construction" indefinitely.

The perfect inaugural dish. Calvin Trillin argues carbonara should replace turkey on Thanksgiving in the US. In Cooking the Roman Way, David Downie discusses controversies surrounding the origins of the dish and in his recipe, offers two simple strategies for making perfect carbonara. 1) After sauteeing the guanciale, pancetta or bacon in olive oil, turn off the heat and let it rest for three minutes. At that point your pasta should be done. 2) Pour the pasta and egg (already mixed with cheese) into the sautee pan, combine and cover for a minute. I love this method, especially the degree to which the egg clings to the pasta while retaining a sauce-like quality.

You know, I always want to know the ending when threads like this are posted. So, I'll just say the mother (California by way of Israel, educated at one of those East Coast schools) tried Ethopian food three times long ago when she worked for a senator. Doesn't care for it. Too much the doctor's daughter/slim CA to do frites, so Bistro du Coin was out. Really liked the idea of Jaleo, but since we couldn't stick the boys unattended at the ESPN place, especially at late hours, we did Old Ebbit's. It was fine, though I will say the flexibility of the staff to friend's & children's preferences was very impressive. There were a number of really good things about the service really---only complaint was about temperature of the food. Salads and vegetables were wonderful; overdressed version of one was replaced swiftly and with grace. The very Touristy (versus Visitor/Traveler) atmosphere during Cherry Blossom week was alarming, but kind of interesting and fun for me since I usually don't see much of that sort of thing and the place was extremely convenient for us to walk back to their hotel. The crab cakes and bread pudding are/were much better at 1789 than OBG's. We managed to finish both. The boys were quite content and happy and I am glad to have gone there once. Judging from the things they said when deciding what to order, I suspect they would have found tapas a bit too unfamiliar at Jaleo, but would have liked their food at the Bistro even more.

EURIPEDES UNBOUND: NEW CLASSICAL DISCOVERY PROVES A FEAST One of the great tragedies of the ancient world was played out not upon the stage, but on papyrus: scroll after scroll worn, torn and eaten by bug or flame. We know the playwright Euripides (d. 406 BCE) by virtue of eighteen surviving dramas. None is represented in a complete group of the four the Athenian originally submitted in competition to be performed at sanctuaries in honor of the gods. Such a body of extant work is rare. Of more than seventy documented plays by Aeschylus, all but seven are lost. Sophocles? Six. While Aristophanes (d. c. 380 BCE) gets the last laugh, submitting poor beleaguered Euripides to humiliation after humiliation as a character in his farce, The Frogs, the joke is on him. Merely eleven plays remain from his prolific career, most patched together from this source or that, with brackets around text that translators must approximate, based on their knowledge of Greek myth and the proclivities of the writer. Therefore, it is with tremendous excitement that I am now able to share a discovery that has gone unreported for nearly two years, ever since the close of a special exhibition devoted to late Byzantium at The Metropolitan Museum of Art. Sewn into the binding of a thirteenth-century Psalter (Saint Petersburg, National Library, Ms. gr. 269), botanical fibers were noticed by a meticulous curator. Russian paleologists investigated further, ultimately excising fragmentary text written in the same hand of late fifth-century Athens on the front and back of well preserved papyrus. For further information about their findings, see Appendix I below. For the reader's purposes, it is sufficient to know that classicists gain irrefutable evidence that Euripides had indeed composed a cycle of plays featuring the women Odysseus encounters on his voyage home from the Trojan War. The surviving passages foreground the titular heroine, Circe [Kirke], a goddess who breaches xenia, the Greek code of hospitality, by luring unsuspecting sailors to her palace, sating their hunger, quenching their thirst, and transforming them into swine. Aided by Hermes, Odysseus escapes the porcine fate of twenty-two of his men, and by ingesting an herb, proves invulnerable to her potion if not her other charms. Food historians and students of popular culture will be startled by the degree to which these terse fragments anticipate the preoccupations of our own world, as if an oracle spoken to us across time, voice of the seer muffled since her mouth is full. What the contemporary reader will notice is a fixation on minutia that Freudians would be tempted to locate somewhere between the oral and anal stages of development. This is especially discernable in the exhaustive detail of description that is proto-photographic, if logocentric in nature. CIRCE Characters Eurylochos Odysseus Hermes Chorus of Swine Circe Mageiros, a cook Dionysus Various attendants of Circe & sailors (silent parts) Scene: the Island of Aiaia. A sandy beach flanked by two palm trees stretches the entire length of the proskenion. Raised upon a platform directly behind the strand, the Palace of Circe commands the stage. Eurylochos, the sailor who delivers the opening lines, stands before a scarlet cloth draped across the colonnaded portico of the deity's home. Only the title character appears center stage, moving forward, once the curtain parts. All others enter from the wings. Eurylochos I am called Eurylochos, son of Nireas Who makes a divine fish soup worthy of the gods. To all who rise in marble rows that spread before me, As if borne upon a briny scallop shell Within the sacred dark we share, I pray: Tread upon these holy grounds with reverence! Breathe deep the smell of incense, Not that of goat roasted on the spit. Hold hymns upon your tongue And not, like me, the honeyed fig between your lips. Beware that which you crave For hunger seizes men and turns them into beasts. I speak of more than hunger of the belly. When revelers recline to feast and late, throw down their bones and raise their brimming cups to Dionysus, Aphrodite is not far away, loosening her hair Before the mirror Eros holds for his comely mother. With every sip, a pin slips from her garments, And as they fall upon the floor, So shall you, soused, upon all fours. As embers died amid the ruins of the house of Priam, I set sail with the great Odysseus from the shores of Troy, Bound for Ithaca, wandering home Beneath the lying movement of the stars. I could tell you of such marvels our crew has seen, And epic misery we have endured, but must not, For rules of classical drama confine the plot To the events of a single day and I must conform To earn the laurel and the honor that the playwright seeks. Thus, nothing of the years, months, or even week Prior to the calamity I report— Nor of the lengths of leathery cod we ate night after night With rings of barley bread and little else until each jug and pot Rang clear, drained of water, so we did thirst Tossed upon the fleur de sel of blackened sea. When at last the mice grew thin from lack of grain, And we, from lack of mice, our ship found port, Here upon the island of Aiaia—home of Circe, Goddess of Deceit, whose palace I turn my back Upon with terror. Our hero sent us sailors ahead, And thus we found ourselves enchanted by a lilting voice, As if Melody danced with knotted kitchen twine And cast her nets around our limbs, and pulling taut, Drew us to these marble halls you see: (The sailor pauses to replace aural experience with visual sensation. Orality becomes spectacle, and audience, viewers: a collective eye of reception whose sight writes text. Female attendants pull the curtain from the portico to reveal the palace interior. At the far right, shimmering silk upon a loom. Its wanton patterns invert the chaste purity of linens Penelope weaves as she awaits the return of her beloved husband, Odysseus. To the far left, a bed spread with a similar textile. Most prominent in the center, upon the bare polished surface of Cyprus wood, silver bowls of fruit, platters of sweetmeats, cheeses, eel glistening with oil. Beside swelling flasks painted with wide-eyed octopi, kraters for mixing water and wine. Couches for dining can be glimpsed to one side. While Circe has not completed the tablecloth upon the loom, you may purchase an exact replica of the finished item at the gift shop as you leave the amphitheater. Also check out the black-figure kylixes decorated with some of your favorite moments from tonight's performance.) Pious Egypt holds the reverence of the gods most high, We Greeks, the pact between the traveler and the host, For home is where we have to take you in, Bathe your feet and offer all the weary need. A hut is but a hut, a palace but a palace—yet, When you are there, every house becomes a home. So as Circe, with her voice in song, threw out her arms To bid us welcome, we threw down ours and entered Without fear. And as our eyes beheld her beauty, Our bellies growled like wolves who knew of danger More than we had wisdom to, for the scent of thyme-rubbed Meats urged our senses to the table where, as you can see An osophagos like Callimedon would find much to be content: The haunches of a fatted calf that Zeus would snatch if altar-placed, Tuna seared with running blood to praise Poseidon, Olives, purple, green and black, that I would cup As gladly as the balls of boys with down upon the chin. Poppy, sesame and all the seeds Demeter strew Studded loaves of wheat, as yet upon the air, the swaying flute Coaxed the servants in the kitchen kneading more. O, to win a man through his stomach, This was the art of the Sorceress! Bothered not were my companions as, sprawled, Barely propped up by their left elbows, they raised in toast Kantaroi filled with wine unmixed, spiced and perfumed With orange, cherry bark and just a hint of Attic clay Thrown by Euxitheos circa 518 BCE, And sealed with the skin of ram, slightly singed. Had they but caught the eye of Circe—but no, their heads flung Back, they guzzled like geese as rain announced Persephone's return. They did not learn the source of the witch's smile until their cups Shattered in chards upon the floor, No longer grasped as fingers cloven changed, Hands becoming hoofs, and balance lost as elbows fled Accompanied by the definition of pecs, tapered thighs and fluted abs. How they snorted in horror as, in short, Bewitched, their bodies metamorphed to snouted pigs And poisoned by Circe's drink, sullied, they Lost the arête that grafts the physical splendor That is Greek Man to his moral beauty. I owe to Plato and to Socrates my austere tastes and thus my life. Clear water in my cup, more than bladder could sustain, My not being bovine. I was just returning from Elysian fields, relief, when all this I spied. I chant with panting breath not because this monologue Is droning on and on, but because I ran back to shore To warn Odysseus. Why did he not believe me? I do not understand! Look at me! Is this the face that launched a thousand lies? At any rate, he approaches soon himself, aided by Hermes Who intercepting him along the way, slipped him moly— An herbal remedy— To shield him from a fate suspended, cured and smoked. (Exit Eurylochus. Enter from left and right, in grave dance, steps timed to the beat of the drum, the Chorus of Swine. Actors wear the shortened garments of slaves, hems slit in the back. Holding pig masks before their faces, as they turn, those seated close to the orchestra may glimpse stiff, bristly tails.) Chorus You know, it's hard out here for a pig! Routing around, No truffles in the ground— Sun beating down No shade from the tree, No shade from Hades (That's The Odyssey Book XI, this is Book X) Skin turning brown, Turning crisp—Sniff! Can you smell me roast? Like a sacrifice to the gods, This island, an altar, Our ship, the pilgrim who deposits his gift In the open air. Here, the temple is cursed. The goddess has no mercy. Koi-koi! Koi-koi! Koi-koi! Koi-koi! Anointed by greed, I hunger! I burn! (A falsetto weaves through the sky, rising and falling, lapping like waves upon the shore, like the tongue of a lion upon a carcass, as Circe moves from behind the loom to take position center stage and the chorus parts.) Circe Here piggy! Piggy! Souie! Souie! Chorus Koi-koi! Koi-koi! Koi-koi! Koi-koi! Circe Why the lament? Did I not feed you just before mid-day? Is there not deipnon e'er long? Chorus Same old, same old. Nothing but acorns. Grouts sprinkled on mud in our sty. Circe Is that not the fare of the Ideal Republic? Is sitos not the essence of life? Chorus In Plato, Glaucon taunts and asks if such food is better for fattening a city of pigs. Circe Well, you're not exactly spring chickens, are you now? Chorus In Plato, barley was laid upon fresh leaves. Men feasted on couches of myrtle. Circe Did not my swineherd set you loose upon the fields today? You are free-range. Chorus In Plato, symposium follows dining. We want our women, wine and song! Circe So in mating you create squealing little [spare ribs]? Was not drink your undoing? Chorus We were drugged! Hating math, you have us eating like Pythagoreans, strictly vegg. Circe Would you like a little ham with your barley? Beer to make you wiggle, nose to tail? Chorus Koi-koi! Koi-koi! Koi-koi! Koi-koi! Trapped upon a ship for years, we longed for land! Now trapped within a pen, we long for the ocean and for home! O Athena Gray-Eyes! Look across the wine-dark sea and take pity On poor Odysseus, father of Telemakos, husband of Penelope! You who shaped the Horse from clay and gave it to the Greeks, Reform us muddy beasts, whole: Men again, that we might sip the wine That makes us who we used to be, not with our muzzles: With lips pressed moist upon kiln-blackened rims, Adrift only in a sea stirred by Dionysus and the vine! * * * * Unfortunately, it would appear that the scribe to whom the text was dictated must have paused and gotten a little too inspired by all the talk of drink, for the writing becomes difficult to decipher. I have had to send the little that remains to a colleague since my skills in reading what seems to be a second-century commentary below the original text are rather limited, I confess, and besides, my own duties in hospitality call now that the cherry blossoms are in bloom and friends journey from afar. Because there is only one small fragment of papyrus, the entire play does not survive. The Russians are rather reluctant to share the juiciest bits--fragments of a dialogue between Circe and Odysseus in bed--understandably, since their scholars wish to publish an analysis of the most evocative and provocative language first. I beg your patience, first for reading all of this, but second since the appendix will have to wait. A glossary will follow shortly with a brief description of the final snippet of text should it be of interest.

See what Elie Nassar did with butternut squash in post #149 here.. Search online for a discount to purchase Marcella Hazan's Essentials...., a cookbook discussed here.. I think you'll find it an eye-opener since there are plenty of things to do with pasta and vegetables that are and are not sauces per se.

Yes, of course, critics should have as much freedom of expression as cooks, artists and political commentators and their publications should support them. They are paid for being articulate about idiosyncratic tastes that, in this case, Globe and Mail found expert and interesting enough to consider professional skills. Nonetheless, I'd like to think this thread is about things both macro and micro. The review would have had a lot more credibility for me were Ms. Gill to restrict her references to the chef's online activities to what she viewed as a disconnection between aspiration and realization if she was underwhelmed. Give some background on eGullet, perhaps, but leave Zucchini Mama, Ling, et al, out of it. It was all too creepy.

What are your thoughts on this? ← Please excuse my ignornance, but is Globe and Mail a respected newspaper? A new, purely online news source? The reason I ask is that I am rather shocked at how personal the review is and how unprofessional its nasty tone strikes me. It is not about the restaurant; it is about eGullet. People in the real world unfamiliar with eGullet would not find a whole lot in the review of interest or newsworthy. Would anyone care about the nit that Ms. Gill is picking--or understand it? Granted I haven't had my coffee yet, but after a quick reading, I recall the description of a single dish. After a second consultation, I realize my impression was wrong. There are almost a dozen. Still, the main thrust of the piece seems to be the author's perception of a preciosity encouraged by rapt clubiness. I do hope someone from Vancouver will write a letter to the editor.

Lazio, indeed. Thanks April for showing us the products of your long fermenting---or at least, maceration. The turnips with sausage do sound & look quite good. It's interesting to learn a little more detail about the breads and see that the flours for Kevin's blec are incorporated. I have to say the pasta made with squash sounds like one of the best dishes made this month. I'd love to try it.