Pontormo

Doc: I still have to read new posts again since I've only skimmed. This thread continues to fascinate...and inspire. I WISH you were logged in because as soon as you mentioned medium grain rice and plantains and lime juice I thought "aha!" and decided to add a few items to my shopping list. I smiled when I read that you and your wife have made the same thing a number of times since your return. Please post if there is anything else in the rice that you've neglected to mention, though your description of a simple dish seems thorough. Regarding epazote: I had never heard of it until I read Deborah Madison's VCFE, where her time in the Southwest affects some of her recipes. Since D.C. has a large Latino/a population, as you probably know, it's easy to find the dried stuff here. I've not come across the fresh herb though it's said to grow like a weed. If you liked the taste and can get over the smell, I strongly recommend adding it to a pot of black beans as they cook. Delicious!

The article linked in the original post is misleading. I'd have to say that either Henry does not occupy a nock of the United States penetrated by the word "schmear" or Bill Gates is just too too White Bread. I just tried a variety of spellings of the word in a Microsoft Word document (most recent version; updates installed Tuesday). It gets a red underline for misspelling with no relevant alternatives.

1) You know, I noticed there was something open in the upstairs location once occupied by Khaybar Pass, one of my favorite places long ago. Can others vouch for quality? 2) Pizza at Paradiso is fine, olives better, and it's fun off-hours on non-peak nights at Dupont (small, crowded). However, I just can't get over tomatoes that seem to have been taken straight out of the can, patted dry, then placed on top of the pies.

Those green things filled with fake powdered Parmesan by Kraft. Wedges of Parmesan made in Wisconsin. Containers of grated Parmigiano-Reggiano, especially processed through larger holes. Luncheables. Oscar Mayer bologna...or pimento loaf. Lock up the person who changed the consistency of the Heirloom applesauce at Whole Foods, too, and feed her/him bottled baby food for an entire year. Chili on top of spaghetti. White chocolate.

Please, dear readers, frankness is solicited, but honesty does not have to be brutal. While in my early twenties, I moon-lighted a total of thirteen days as a waitress at a place called the Spaghetti Garden. It was a cheap and lousy pseudo-Italian place run by middle-aged guys who tried to date the young waitresses (one succeeded) and hired the kind of kitchen help that ran out to the inner courtyard in the middle of a busy shift to fight with chains. It was not the first time I subjected myself to that kind of experience; I also did the family restaurant thing as a summer job after my first year of college. However, I quit as soon as I raised the extra money I needed to move. It is taxing, physically, especially when you have to carry heavy trays and not spill pitchers or bottles dashing up stairs to the rooftop terrace. Being busy will distract you from exhaustion and pain, though it won't wipe that expression of worry or annoyance off your face as others have mentioned. At the same time, though, waiting also demands a good deal of mental agility. You have to keep a lot of information in your head, even if you're using a pad to write down orders. You have to develop strategies to balance differing demands of customers at various stages of their meals. You can't leave anyone with a menu for 45 minutes as I once did when I completely forgot that my station had just gotten bigger that night. When you leave the place at 1:30 in the morning, you need figure out what to do about that man who is clearly following you and respond quickly. A few years ago in Washington, D.C., a middle-aged waiter was killed during a hold-up that went bad. The response in the neighborhood was overwhelming, in part because he was well-known, respected and greatly appreciated for his warmth and professionalism. Hmmm. Here I go chiding folk for being too blunt and I've turned my own post into something rather grim. What I meant to say is that waiters and waitresses have made their jobs careers and many are respected for how hard they work and how skilled they become, and what they contribute to the lives of others in their community. Perhaps once you've fully recovered and have begun a job search in earnest you might see if you can do what aspiring chefs are advised to do. Volunteer your services at an establishment that is willing to put in the time to show you what such a position demands. See how it feels.

This is the first week I can remember when there haven't been any red or yellow bell peppers in the house for four days straight. When there's a sale, I've been known to bag six, seven or eight, but that would get you through a day! Wow. Do you know how this got started? * * * Remember Harriet the Spy's tomato sandwiches?

I am bumping this thread up since I missed the amazing post by Shalmanese. So far, she is this year's contender for the Harold McGee Award for Scientific Experimentation at EGullet.

Yes, Kevin, "Does this dress make me look fat?" was encoded in my last post. You said the right thing. Now that Hathor is back, have decisions been made about all three months in Q2? I'm also looking forward to hearing more about April's fermenting turnips.

Hathor: It's great to see you back! Thank you for such a generous account of your trip--I love the geography lesson, complete with props and gestures. As for the food, the chestnuts, boar and sorrel (sorrel in the middle of the winter!!!???) sound wonderful. Everything does. The grill you mention sounds a bit like the fogher illustrated in my old Time/Life book on Italian food. The buttery sage sauce evokes Tuscan (I think) sage pesto. What I'd like to know is if there is a heartier routine at breakfast time in the Alps. Sigh. The snow looks gorgeous, too. I looked up your drink, genepi, by the way. The name is identical to the acronym for a French association devoted to those incarcerated. However, the digestif is produced from flowers (wormwood...) and plants that bloom and grow in the Alps where they are harvested in August. Each locality has its own special brew. Valle d'Aoste is most closely linked with genepi, but I wonder if Maria's captain was fond of edelweiss for more than its symbolism.

Thank you for all the helpful suggestions. As for jackal10, I am sorry, but the maternal grandfather is a cardiologist, and both parents are native Californians who fit many of the demographic patterns that some of us admire and some of us don't. No McDonald's. I do know a visit to the Museum of Native American Art (one of the greatest architectural catastrophies in recent years) is planned, so that's a good idea too, especially since I have been meaning to try it. However, we've been talking about dinner. Lori's the one lunching. My preference would be 2 Amys, but it's kind of out of the way. Their hotel's downtown.

I know it's fun to see photograhic evidence of meals and I was almost tempted to see if I could post a Powerpoint drawing of tonight's dinner, but words and trust will have to do. I appreciated all the reactions to paparot and frico in its various manifestions. I kept your likes, dissatisfactions and adjustments in mind to eat very, very well. First, the chicken stock I made this weekend is delicious and that helps. I've become a purist over time, and use only celery, carrot, onion and a touch of salt to flavor the bird. This time, I added some leek greens and a very small leek and the sweetness made a difference. Therefore, the spinach soup did not make my eyeballs roll back in my head, but I really, really liked it. Because of comments about blandness, I added far more garlic than one needs for a single bowl and let the slivers of the cloves turn brown as instructed. I cooked the spinach only until the cornmeal clearly thickened the soup and a glossy sheen developed on its surface. It was still bright green and just begining to darken. A bit of butter swirled in...nourishing against the bitter cold. Now, as for the frico, I am reminded how Lucifer was called the most beautiful of the angels before his fall. I would have probably lived to a very old age, happy, if I had never heard of Montasio, never spent weeks trying to find a local source. All your reports were too tempting, though, and so I reached my arm up high and plucked. Man, oh man...... I followed most of the instructions here for Frico with Pears, something Kevin prepared with radicchio earlier in this thread. However, I liked Nathan's series of fricos, too, so I took a little bit from each of your posts. I cubed a Yukon Gold potato and waited until all the chicken stock in the pot was absorbed. Then I tossed it in with the browned bacon, grease, onion and sliced mushrooms. Ultimately, I ended up with very rich Hash Browns, I suppose, blanketed by a big slab of frico. The latter was fun to watch bubble and solidify, at least for this novice. All this was served on a hand-rolled plate made by a radio producer who once had a Fulbright to study ceramics in Japan for a year. The rough shape and colors complemented the frico. On the side, golden beets tossed in orange juice and then with strands of raddicchio. On the other side, a sprig of parsley. Gluttony's a sin. I am going to Hell. For now, life is good.

Robot cookware is designed with the Baconrobot in mind.

Jm Chen's suggestions are excellent as well. I really think Teaism might be your best bet as a low key place where you would feel comfortable reading. Bento lunches include lightly seared tuna with sides of sweet potato with peanut sauce. Great range of teas. It's modest, superior in atmosphere to most franchises (there are a number of locations in D.C.), yet designed so that patrons may choose to grab something during a quick lunch break or linger.

This morning on National Public Radio there was a story related to this topic. The Chinese government is planning to impose a tax on disposable wooden chopsticks to thwart ecological disaster.

Florence transformed a lot of eaters here, I suspect. Judy Rodgers of Zuni Cafe writes beautifully about her experience there, too. Did you go to Venice and visit Carlo Scarpa's buildings during your time in Italy?

On a weekday, Jaleo is not always packed at lunchtime and there are small tables next to the windows where I am sure you would be graciously accommodated, especially if you're reading about food or Spain. It's close to the Metro Stop (Gallery Place on Red Line) and close to the Mall. Museum-going friends have always enjoyed the place. (Well, sample of three, but..) As a solitary diner, you wouldn't get to sample as many of the small plates of tapas as you would with companions, but 2-4 would be perfect, depending on your appetite. If you've never had tapas before, you're in for a treat.

Sigh. And you live in Europe! Five years ago, friends rented a place in Paris for the summer, very close to the fashionable patisserie, Gerald Mulot. I refuse to sneer or turn up my nose at the place because when I walked in there was an exquisite apricot tart in the display case that cost way too much and that I bought for our dinner. It was one of those very rare times when eating a beautifully produced dessert lived up to the experience of looking at it. I wonder if the fruit used was as flavorful fresh, without sugar, vanilla, butter and cream.

Just a quick note: Whole Foods imports its house brand of EVOO from Italy. The label on the front of the bottle stresses that the product is from Italy. F Fine print on the side of the bottle alerts reader to the significance of letter coding elsewhere on the bottle. A=original source is Greece, B=Tunisia....F=combination of all the above....

FYI re Marcella Hazan: I checked her first book (1973); my copy is from the NINTH printing only five years after publication. Clearly the book was timely. There is little mention of vinegar at all. It's not a subject in the long introduction where the author addresses essential ingredients and issues. Of course, her text takes into account what was and was not available in 1973 in the United States. However, in her section on salads, she specifically calls for a GOOD FRENCH red wine vinegar. In her second book (1978) which I actually purchased first since reviews praised its superioty, balsamic vinegar is mentioned very, very briefly. She devotes a single paragraph to the subject on page 412, noting the fact that it "...is beginning to find its way here in extremely limited quantities." Hazan gives credit to Waverly Root for his detailed account of aceto balsamico di Modena in The Food of Italy. That is it. She does not include any recipes that list the "very special vinegar" as an ingredient. Unless the influence of MH took place off the printed page, it sounds if other forces should be sought. As I mentioned in my original post, I think issues of Gourmet should be gleaned.

I have a friend visiting from California who I have not seen since her wedding. (Her sons were conceived after the happy event.) She lived here right after college and is taking advantage of Spring Break to introduce D.C. to her children. Is there any way for us to catch up over dinner without having the boys rolling their eyes the whole time? Can you think of a place they might enjoy and find distracting enough?

Please explain, Adam. I've only recently read the fine print to discover that olive oil imported from Italy is likely to come from Tunisia, Greece, etc. How do you know if your olive oil is actually from fruit cold-pressed only once? Is the text on labels subject to legislation?

This blog is a visual pleasure as well as fun to read. While you call yourself a minimalist, you seem to have a sense of color that separates you from Sol Le Witt et al. Was the intense green of the wonderful kitchen you designed your own idea or that of the client? Given your fascination with food and relationships with people in related businesses in Seattle, would you be interested in designing on a smaller scale: silverware? plates? drawer handles?

Yes, the first responses do not surprise me. I am the same way, BUT when I visit my stepfamily (all the women are either born in the UK or conceived there except me), I am perfectly happy with a perfectly brewed cup of very strong tea. The American-born husbands have all been converted to tea by their wives. What I need is orange juice in the morning. Grapefruit juice is even better, but too costly these days. The remark about cucumbers is interesting. Kevin has clearly become an honorary Italian. I am sorry the trial is so difficult. Now, I am waiting for Ling to pipe up.

...or apricots. Our markets do have strawberries that taste as good as they look, but the only good apricots I have eaten in this country lately have been dried. (Thanks for the information about California's berry-growers, Russ.)

We all know what we crave when we need comfort food. There are certain foods that some of us have to have monthly, on our birthdays, for the Superbowl, when we make a pilgrimage to our favorite gelateria in Rome, or reserve a table at a beloved restaurant. However, what would you honestly say that you HAVE to consume on a daily basis? Do you always get what you need? What happens when you don't?