dividend

This is so true, and well said. This is how alot of marketing aimed at the very young adult demographic is. I'm pretty sure the next step is going to be a much more widespread use of fake viral marketing (ala Snakes on a Plane) by huge companies that takes that kind of anti-marketing to the next level. It's already happening. A pizza chain (I think it was Domino's, but I could be wrong), released a short YouTube video that looked like a home movie of a 16 year old girl named MacKenzie freaking out because her Daddy bought her a convertible that was the wrong color. A charicature that was almost beleivable. Then later, "she" posted a follow up video where she disussed selling the car on e-bay for $9.99. The ebay auction was a big promotion of the pizza chain. Kids are getting smarter and more cynical, so advertisers either parody themselves with a giant wink, or pretend to not be advertising at all. The thing I found most interesting in this thread is the idea that there's something inherently wrong with McDonald's or Frito Lay marketing themselves as healthier, and the attitude that such claims cannot possibly be true. Looking at the Frito Lay site, I see that they've given up using any partially hydrogenated oils in their chips. When you buy a bag of regular Lays, the ingredients read: potatoes, sunflower oil, salt. In my mind that's better than reading: reconstitued dehydrated potato product, partially hydrogenated soybean oil, salt, right? Why are their claims about taking healthful steps met with such cynacism? If McDonald's really is taking steps to use higher quality ingredients, surely that is a good thing on some level.

Oh dear. That means something VERY different and not at all food related around here.

None of us so far have used explicitly spiritual terms, but many of have implied them in the things we've had to say here. I run the risk of sounding cheesy and melodramatic if I say much more. Suffice it to say that your words resonate. There is no reward without risk, yes? Mom told me once what a difficult decision it was for her to quit her job and stay home to raise my brother and I. I tell her often that I am so glad she did.

This hits the nail on the head, IMO. There's a line in an Incubus song that captures this: "Isn't it weird, how a privelege can feel like a chore?" When the attitude is that this care-work (I like that phrase very much) is a chore instead of an important, integral, life-enriching function, quality of life suffers, both for the care-worker, now styled as a drudge, and the recipient, now styled as a burden. Right now, I have a high paying technical job that I enjoy. But someday I want to have children, and stay at home to raise them and keep house, with a husband who supports me in this. I worry sometimes that I won't find someone whose vision matches mine. I worry that men my age see partnerships like marriage as a math equation adding our two incomes. They cleaned up after dinner every night, everything except handwashing some stuff that I'd rather do myself. They never hesitated to have next week's grocery money for me by Friday. I'd find that many nights when we'd go out to the bars or to house parties that my drinks were paid for. I always had rides to class if I was running late no matter how early it was. Also, after discovering that they didn't have any kind of system for tracking their mail, including utility bills (my name was never on the lease), I developed a system and made sure there bills got paid regularly. After that they refused to let me chip in for utilities, saying I had more than earned it. Most of these things I never asked for - it was just them doing the things they could to make my life easier as I did for them. As for cooking, one of the brothers was a chemical engineering student with many classmates from India. He was always bringing home interesting authentic recipes, or strange ingredients/mixes without English writing on them. So he'd cook Indian dishes that were either delicious, or so unbearably hot we'd be sweating at the table. The other was in law school and too busy to do much of anything. The boyfreind was completely hopeless, and is referenced in my sig.

Hmmm. My desk is on the second floor, where we have 2 breakrooms complete with fridge, huge coffee maker, sink, and vending machines, but no microwave. For that we have to go downstairs to the dining room outside the cafeteria. We always bitch not having a microwave up here, but this thread makes me think that might not be a bad thing!

I can't speak to uni, because I've never ordered it. There's a japanese place on Westport road, and I can't remember the name of it, but it's right next to Papa Keno's and Jerusalem Cafe. The sushi there was pretty good in my opinion. Take that with a grain of salt, as I've never eaten sushi on either coast.

Then I guess it's a good thing you can!

I'll take a stab at answering this very complex questions. I wrote more than I intended, and I apologize if I strayed slightly from the original question. I grew up in a suburb of Kansas City, born in the early 80's, with one slightly younger brother. My mother was a stay-at-home mom, and sitting down together for a dinner she had prepared always happened. It was never explicitly emphasized and waxed poetic about, as seems to be the case in other cultures, rather it was just part of the our routine. Simple, classic midwestern suburban dishes - casseroles, meatloaves, chilis, pot roasts, always around the cramped kitchen table with the TV off. I never really learned to cook at home, mostly because I was more interested in math and science and debate tournaments. Mom stopped cooking every day at home once my brother and I were out of the house. She confessed to me later that she was burnt out on it. She cooks now when she feels like it, simpler food, and Dad cooks for her some. They've found a new balance. When I went to college, I lived for several years with my boyfreind and two brothers who were his best freinds. This was after a year of living in the dorms, where I ate nothing but fast food or the cafeteria, so I was ready to start cooking for myself. Because my three roommates were pretty typical college boys, left to their own devices, they would have eaten vending machine fair alternating with take out pizza. My wallet (and my waistline) would not have stood that for long, so I started cooking for the four of us. I was terrible at first, leaning heavily on recipes from my childhood, and then episodes of Good Eats. But I came to look forward to the ritual - plan a week of meals, get up early in on Saturday when the college town was still and quiet to grocery shop, cook dinner each night. The brothers (who I came to think of as my own brothers), have told me since then how much those family dinners meant to them through the whirlwind of our college experience. Those years imparted to me a deep understanding of the importance and power of providing sustanence for the ones I love, and a fresh appreciation for the family dinners of my childhood. I lived on my own for a few years, and I took great pleasure in shopping and cooking just for me. A long day at work could fade away eating a simple plate of pasta with pesto and shrimp, and drinking wine from a proper wine glass even though it was just me. A long week was brightened by a trip to my favorite bakery, the Saturday farmers' market, the process of baking a loaf of sourdough that spans the whole weekend. Now I cook for my roommate and sometimes lover, and I feel the same joy in providing for him. It can be romantic in the passionate sense, but more often it's romantic in the idyllic sense, the feeling that this is how life should be. I studied aerospace engineering and computer science in college, and now I do database programming work for a living. So I understand on an intellectual level why woman cast off the duties of the kitchen as a sort of slavery, unappreciated housework and kitchen work seeming to be chains that held them back from external, high compensation work. But I don't agree on an emotional level that it has to be a trade off. Sharing food that I have prepared with my own two hands is my way of creating bonds, celebrating family, enriching my own life and (I hope), that of those who share my table. I think one of the negative aspects of feminism is the attitude that traditional women's duties are inherently inferior, that choosing to cook and care for a family is somehow a lesser choice. I think that's a dangerous message to send to bright young women. Think there is an inherent romance in the preparation of food, from the drawing up of the menu to the shopping to the actual cooking or baking. Reading the words of certain food/cookbooks authors, indeed even certain posters around here (and some who are both), it leaps out immediately. I think particularly of Snowangel's posts. You can feel the love and beauty when she shares even the simplest of stories about cooking for and with her husband and children. I hope that someday when I have children, I will feel and write similar words.

Thanks for all the tips in this thread! I was in Zihautanejo for 10 days, and I certainly ate well. Not a lot of fine dining with my budget, just wonderful fresh, local food. I stayed in an apartment in downtown, up the street from Playa Municipal, so most of my eating was near there. I checked out some of the recommended places - Coconuts (seafood pasta), Banditos (tuna tacos, molcates de pescador), the stalls in the Mercado (chile rejenos for breakfast), a place on Playa Las Gatas (El Pescador?). Casa Arcadia was at the end of my street on the beach, and that was a pleasant default place for lunches, drinks, and snacks. Mostly I looked for places that looked to be full of locals. My two favorite places ended up being a big green open air bar restaurant near the corner of Nicolas Bravo and Bento Juarez, and a little yellow place next door with very cheap enchiladas verdes. There was also a little food cart on the corner near my apartment that cooked up hamburgers covered in ham, cheese, onions and jalapenos that hit the spot after a few nights of tequila. I also very much enjoyed the beer micheladas style - over ice with lemon juice and salt. The Mercado was wonderful - I ended up walking there just about every morning, either to eat, or to shop for breakfast supplies. The worst meal I had the whole trip was (not suprisingly) in an Italian restaurant called Cici's(?) in Ixtapa. I had some freinds staying in a hotel on the beach there who raved about it, and pasta sounded like a good respite from all the atypical food I was eating, but it was truly awful. I didn't like Ixtapa very much - everything was overpriced, and seemed to contain alot of the kind of tourists who want things to be the same wherever they travel. I avoided the tap water and ate/drank everything else with gusto, and had no problems. I did find Probiotica to take, I don't know if that helped. Zihua was great. I think I may have left a peice of myself there. I woke up this morning disappointed to find myself in my bed in Kansas City, and not there, getting ready to walk to the Mercado. I even miss finding small lizards in my sink.

Pressure cooker stock tastes a little flat. Like if you took canned broth and eliminated the saltiness. A pinch of salt and a squeeze of lemon or vinegar perks it up. I don't notice a difference in recipes where the stock isn't a main flavor. I mainly like the convenience. I can roast a chicken for dinner, then chuck the carcass into my trusty pressure cooker with my aromatics of choice (usually carrot, celery, onion, garlic cloves, parsley stems, and peppercorns), and have 8 - 10 cups of stock cooling in the fridge before bed. I'm not in the habit of saving bones and scraps for a big batch, so this works for me, and keeps me from buying canned broth.

Why not mix it up in a small tupperare container? I get my yogurt ready the night before. I normally mix in homemade lemon marmalade, frozen fruit, and ground flax seed. The fruit is defrosted and juicy by morning, when I can just grab and go. I saw some Fage finally at Wild Oats, so I bought a cup of 0%. I'm sorry to say you guys steered me wrong on this one. It wasn't any better than other yogurts, just thicker without being creamy. I've since decided that non-fat yogurt as breakfast doesn't tide me over at all, so maybe I'll go back and try the full fat stuff.

^^^ I like peeking other peoples' cabinets too. I've been refining basic recipes/techniques that fit my taste and the way I cook for a while now. The first thing that comes to mind is knowing how to make a quality omelette or frittata. These are like the kitchen equivalent of a really great pair of jeans. Dress them up for a nice brunch, make them simply for a quick weeknight dinner, or stuff them with leftovers that might go bad otherwise. Indispensible. Basic recipes for pancakes and muffins from ingredients already on hand really simplifies life when time or money is tight. I'm suprised more people don't know how to make a good vinagraitte. My basic single serving recipes of 3:1(:1) oil:vinegar(:jam) is one of the most useful things I've ever figured out. I also rely on a basic soup formula. Sautee base aromatics (carrots/onions/celery, or things like leeks) in butter or oil with kosher salt until soft, add garlic until fragrant, add stock or water, simmer, add whatever else (noodles, rice, meat, potatoes, tomatoes, seasonings). Stock is a no brainer too, although I use a pressure cooker for convenience. Bread is another good one. I have a formula for a 1lb bread machine loaf committed to memory and I just vary it based on what I'm in the mood for, keeping the basic proportions the same. I eat a lot more homemade bread because of this. eGullet convinced me to stop soaking my beans, so the Russ Parsons method is a staple for me now. And, while it's not exactly a recipe, knowing how to properly package and freeze things is something I couldn't do without. Michael Ruhlman said somewhere that he'd like to write a sort of anti-cookbook about ratios. I would buy it in a heartbeat. Something like that could probably relegate every other cookbook I own to the browse-for-inspiration category.

I'm bumping this thread because my trip to Zih is next week! (I am so excited to get out of the cold, snowy Kansas City weather!) I'm seeking any last minute food related advice. Greg, thanks for your post, ZihuaRob's whole site is awesome - I used it to schedule some diving and find a hotel. We'll be staying in a one bedroom apartment, so I'll definately take your supermarket advice. I'm printing this thread to take with me as well. One question - is it pretty likely that we'll suffer some gastrointestinal distress from food/water? Maybe that's just my paranoid freinds talking. What precautions should we take? Thanks!

I love this idea! What a great alternative to giving "stuff". I did homemade jam gift baskets for this past Christmas. Each basket had pear vanilla jam, apple pie syrup, apple butter (I discovered a great crockpot recipe that's cannable), and a random jar of summer fruit jam. Heavy on the fall/winter jams this year because I didn't make enough in the summer/spring. I'll rectify that this year. I covered the tops of the jars with pretty fabric tied with kitchen twine, and attatched little printed cards describing the contents. I thought they might end up looking really cheesy, but when I was finished, my jam cabinet looked like a little country store! These gifts went over really well, and I've been basically ordered to keep my family stocked on apple butter. Not food related, but I just started a quilting class with the hopes of making my mom a quilt for her collection by Mother's Day.

I've done some research into HFCS, after a period of dogmatically beleiving all manner of horrid things about it. Most of the studies I've seen that are used as weapons in the anti-HFCS syrup arsenal don't actually have anything to do with HFCS specifically. There's been lots of research into the damaging effects of fructose consumption (sterility in lab rats), and into the different ways our bodies metabalize fructose vs. glucose (more easily stored in the body as fat), and into the effects of consuming sugary tasting liquids (already been touched on in this thread). But HFCS and regular sugar only differ in their fructose component by about 10%. So I'm not at all convinced that there is any scientific evidence that drinking a cane of US coke vs. a can of Mexican coke makes any difference at all. That said, I think that the presence of HFCS is a good indicator that the item I'm considering purchasing should go back on the shelf. Convincing people to avoid HFCS means that they start seeking out less processed alternatives, or, at the very least, really thinking about what they're consuming. It also means they'll consume less sugar overall, which probably isn't a bad thing. So I guess the short answer is no, (high fructose) corn syrup is not in and of itself so bad. But I beleive choosing not to eat it makes my diet healthier.

Do you do any canning? There's a great recipe for meyer lemon marmalade in Blue Ribbon Preserves that is good with store bought lemons - I bet it would be spectacular with your wonderful lemons. I'd probably also make a batch or 3 of lemon poppyseed muffins, because I love them and they freeze pretty well for quick breakfasts.

That's why he's so great though! I watched the first 6 seasons or so of this show towards the end of college, and I forget how much I learned from it. I didn't learn any real cooking techniques growing up, so I was a sponge. Alton taught me how to make thickened sauces and gravies, omelettes (to this day I picture the 13 steps from that episode in my head as I make an omelette), frittatas, steak in a skillet, as well as how to steel a knife, chop an on onion, can homemade jam, keep salad greens fresh in the fridge, evaluate tools... the list is endless. Watching his show as part of my self-education in how to cook gave me the confidence to try new things, to improvise, and the desire to learn WHY. I'm going to give those episode to my hypothetical future children when they go to college.

In 2007, I will eat as locally and seasonally as possible, and in restaurants for pleasure, rather than poor planning. I will make an effort every day to remember, as I cook dinner after 10-12 hours in the office, that it's a labor of love and not a chore. I will find a group of people who feel the same way about baking, eating, and cooking that I do. Bonus points if I can find a friend who will call me, excited about a new restaurant. I will learn how to make croissants. This is the year I will try foie gras. I want to know what all the fuss is about. I will taste oysters again. On the half shell. Cold beer in my hand. Salt breeze on my skin. This may require getting out of Kansas City for a day or two, which is OK with me. I'm willing to sacrifice to taste the ocean again. I will use the pasta rolling attachment to my KA mixer. I'm slightly embarassed that I haven't before now. I will give homemade jam baskets for Christmas, with jams and jellies that span the seasons, instead of the all fall fruit I'm doing this year. I will bake more, instead of thinking about it all the time. We (my grandmother and I) will plant tomatoes in remembrance of my grandfather. It's been 15 years since the last season he tended them. We'll see if the strip of soil behind her house remembers. And when we succeed, we'll eat them with steak and toast his memory. My kids don't exist yet. But... I will teach the joy of breadmaking to the kids at my church's annual Healthy Kids Camp. I will read M.K.F. I feel like I'm missing out not having read her. Also Nina Plank's book.

A couple of years ago I made root beer jelly for my christmas baskets, and ended up with some extra. It's actually really good warmed slightly and poured over ice cream. So you could take a slice of a dense cake base with flavors that complement the root beer, warm it up, and top it with cold ice cream and warm root beer sauce. I would definately order it.

Things I don't buy because the homemade versions are easier and better: Salad dressing Frozen dinners Bisquick Lipton noodle packets Salsa Jam, jelly, apple butter Canned vegetables (except my guilty pleasure - LeSeur Very Young Small Early Peas ) - I either buy frozen, or can and freeze my own Broth Pesto Microwave popcorn I wish I could say bread, but, much as I'd like it to be, it's not an absolute. I try not to, does that count? Plus the BF loves Sarah Lee Honey Wheat. What can you do? Things I still buy that produce a twinge of guilt because I probably COULD find a better and easier homemade version: Pasta sauce Mayo Ketchup Granola Things I have absolutely no compunction about buying even though I can make a very good version: Stouffer's Mac & Cheese Frozen vegetables

I've gotten some great cooking related gifts for christmas over the last few years - the cobalt blue KitchenAid standmixer, the matching food processer, my beloved Presto pressure cooker, a wonderful Zyliss v-slicer, a pizza stone, silicone tools, my canning kettle, and cookbooks with themed accessories (like Peter Reinhart's American Pie and a pizza stone kit). Plus I splurged last year on my All Clad set and Le Creuset dutch oven. This was the first year that I've felt like I don't need/want anything to improve my kitchen. So only a few food related items made it onto my practical wishlist this year. A nice zester, a whisk (since I never think to buy one for myself), a ladle to replace my broken one, and Mes Confitures. As for a fantasy wishlist - a little house that's 3/4 half kitchen, with space in the yard for a berry patch and vegetable/herb garden, and a freestanding woodburning brick oven, like the one Jackal10 uses in this, my favorite eGullet thread and the one that convinced me to join.

I really like the breads in Dan Lepard's The Handmade Loaf. The basic white leaven is kneaded for 15 seconds at a time at intervals, before you do the stretch and fold thing. This bread bakes up with a nice open crumb, and a papery thin crisp crust. The first time I tried it, I was kind of skeptical about the initial sticky lumpy dough. But after a few minimal kneads and rests, its was as silky smooth as anything I've kneaded for 15 minutes. If you don't have this book, you really should. Edited to make an eGullet friendly link

Joyce Goldstein's book Solo Supppers has some interesting recipes in it for farro.

I don't think this is prima facia true. If it were, human society wouldn't have survied a single generation before the advent of modern farming and distribution systems. The entire world had not choice but to eat locally and put food by for off seasons for centuries. But I think you're correct in the sense that the way society is structured now is inextricably linked to global distribution networks and economies of scale, and thus the shift towards purchasing locally will not work from the top down. I think the original argument is flawed, because if you assume that a consumer will either be driving to a supermarket or driving to an equidistant farmer's market or CSA distribution point, fuel usage on the end is equal. If I drive to the farm to pick up my produce at the point of origin, I've saved fuel. If I pick a salad from my garden, I've saved fuel. You also didn't take into account the amount of fossil fuel consumed in the industrial growing process versus a small farm where much of the labor is human rather than fuel intensive. Interesting thought excercise though, to be sure.

I wish that restaurants would just add a 10-15% tip onto the bill payed directly to the waiter. That way, no one gets stiffed, and if the service is great, you can leave an additional amount. It just seems that alot of times the tipping system brings out the worst in people, at both extremes. I've dined a with total cheapskates who left no tip at all, forcing me to cover it out of guilt, and I've dined with former waiters who made a big deal out of tipping 40% and guilt tripping everyone who tipped less. I also don't like tipping because it feels like I'm spending extra money above the cost of the meal. Which is true, in a sense, but since tips subsidize restaurants paying waiters $2.13, the tip is part of the cost of the meal. So why isn't is just included? Paying the check sometimes feels like being part of a social experiment.