Katie Meadow

Ann, that looks like a very lovely fresh version of Caldo Tlapeno. Do you have a recipe? Thanks! (btw, I have long suspected Moe is an invention, but if not, no one else on earth gets so many amazing breakfasts. I would NEVER show my husband a breakfast post of yours.)

My solution is Nabisco Famous Chocolate Wafers. Taste very much like the Oreo cookie. And for me they are perfect, since I hate the filling. Until I discovered these cookies I used to scrape off the Oreo filling and throw it away. I justified the waste by feeling virtuous about my teeth.

Just want to report that I cooked my Marcella beans from RG and served them mashed, on toast. I cooked them pretty much the way I cook most beans, sautéing onions, carrot, celery (all finely chopped) followed by garlic. Beans go in, get tossed gently. Then liquid goes in (in this case I used a very diluted home made chicken broth). This gets boiled for about five minutes, then the flame is turned way down and aromatics (or what ever you call them) are added: bay leaf, fresh thyme, a little rosemary, a little cumin and just a shake of dry harissa. Cooked them close to 2 hours, salted, cooked another fifteen minutes. We mashed them coarsely, and spread them on toasted rustic bread rubbed first with raw garlic, then buttered. Very very good with a little extra sea salt sprinkled on. Tomorrow I'm planning to put the rest of the beans and their broth in a soup with farro and Tuscan kale. Cin cin, Marcella!

I always think of that salad as a child of the seventies. Very common at potlucks! It's just an Asian style slaw, with the addition of slivered almonds and broken up chunks of packaged ramen noodles. The dressing varied in those days, as you might imagine, with additions of commercial sweetened peanut butter (really awful.) I made it recently with just a simple dressing of rice wine vinegar, peanut or veg oil, a squirt of sesame oil. I don't remember ever having it will apple, but nothing anyone did in the seventies is surprising. I am of the school that prefers to add the noodles at the very last moment, since they are all about the crunch for me.

Thanks, I checked my recipe and it also says 1 T baking powder, so clearly my brain isn't working very well. I believe what I did was use 2 tsps of baking powder instead of 1 T. I suspect that if I actually put in 2 T of baking powder I would have tasted it!

Today our main meal was the pancakes, with a side of leftover red beans and rice. The pancakes are great. I made two changes. One was to use regular KA All purpose flour, since I didn't have any self-rising flour. I'm not sure why the recipe calls for self rising flour AND a substantial 3 T of baking powder. I cut back and used only 2 T of baking powder without the self-rising flour. Is the recipe in the book like that? I got mine on line, so it is possible it was tweaked by someone. They were certainly puffy enough. My recipe calls for 4 T of melted butter. That seemed like a lot to me, since I don't generally cook with butter. I subbed out 1 T butter and cut back to 2 T safflower oil, so really I used 3 T fat/oil. I did make the compound butter and it was sinfully good. The pancakes were tender and rich. I have a rotation of three or four other vegetable pancakes I make and this one will join them. Thanks Chris, I'm not sure I would have made these if you hadn't raved about them.

Today I made RG's Domingo Rojo beans for the first time. As suggested on the site I made red beans and rice, the same recipe as I always make when I use the organic Dark Red Kidneys from Purcell Mountain Farms. The Rojo's were truly delicious and resulted in a very rich flavorful bean broth. They are a beautiful color, and after about a five hour soak turned the water a lovely scarlet. Surprisingly, given how small they are, they took a bit longer to cook and needed a more liquid than most of the other varieties I buy from either source (never tried the Ayocote beans, though!) I gave them about an extra 20 minutes and they could have gone a bit more, but my husband and I were really starving. They hold their shape amazingly well, and I think they would make a very good salad bean, not that I ever do that.

For many years I made sure I was never without a tube of Le Cabanon harissa paste. It's French, with a very distinctive logo and package design, and for many years was ubiquitous and the only tube style harissa available. I was addicted. I read that the great photographer Cartier-Bresson used to carry that very same tube around with him wherever he went. It's gone the way of the dodo and that breaks my heart. Now you can easily get a tube of harissa called DEA, which is not the same. It has no distinct flavor and is hotter than hell. I threw it out. And I have thrown out several other cans or jars either upon opening or after they languished in the fridge for a couple of years without being used. I haven't found one that has comparable flavor to Le Cabanon. It was something special; hot, but not so hot that it obscured its own flavor. Someone gave me some harissa powder but I haven't figured out what to do with it. Do I make a paste? The paste is so versatile; you can use it to further spice up a soup to taste, bowl by bowl. Perhaps this thread will nudge me to try making my own. I still have an original box because it is so lovely and simple. And because, of course, it's all that's left.

Just want to say thanks for this topic. It's nice to know there are some people taking the time to make Ottolenghi's recipes. The ones from Plenty seem like the most complex, so my admiration to you all; last year I took it out of the library and got exhausted by it. And that was just reading it. The Green Pancake recipe is all over the internet, and it looks delicious, so I'm going to try that soon. A favorite of mine from Jerusalem is his swiss chard fritters. But then I'm on a vegetable pancake and fritter kick these days.

Just a very quick google search reveals that there isn't a lot of mystery or confusion about what is a currant, dried or otherwise. The dried currants we typically see in this country are known as zante currants. They are in fact grapes, very small grapes, aka champagne grapes (not to be confused with the grapes used to make sparkling wine in the Champagne region of France.) They were originally known as Corinth grapes, as noted above, but no one seems to call them that any more. In season we get fresh champagne grapes which are adorable and very sweet. When you buy dried currants to put in scones or granola they are really just tiny raisins make from these grapes. Years ago when I was in New Mexico I lived in a house that had real currant bushes, both red and black. Both were delicious, but they are definitely a berry and grow on a bush rather than a vine. I can't remember the last time I saw them sold fresh or dried around here Perhaps the plant is more common in the UK, but they do grow here and they didn't seem to need any special attention. They were so so good. It could be they thrive with a lot of water. My bushes were right near an irrigation ditch which was regularly flooded during the growing season.

On the bottle I have now the name Lion & Globe is in tiny print running vertically. Look for the cartoon lion, then check the label.

Lion and Globe is also my preferred peanut oil for stir fry. It has a very pure peanut taste, so I don't consider it a neutral oil either. Given that I use my wok at least twice a week, buying a large bottle in Chinatown is the most efficient way to go. I do use Rice Bran oil, but mostly for certain Asian style salad dressings and slaws.

I love my Nutri Ninja Pro. It works far better for most drinks than my blender, which is a modest priced NOT high powered blender. It is smaller and so much easier to clean. And it effectively deals with ice. My standard blender gets dragged out very rarely these days, mostly for soups. Sometimes I wish I had a high power blender, but that's mostly if I ever watch Rick Bayless cooking on TV. I use the Ninja enough to justify its place on the counter. When I bought it I considered the Magic Bullet, but research seemed to favor the Ninja when I checked them both out.

Making your own ingredients, whether for alcoholic drinks or any foods or sauces, really depends upon the availability of time, dissatisfaction with or difficulty of obtaining commercial products, price differential, and fun. Two of the "from scratch" cocktail ingredients I find pleasurable to make and worth the time are flavored simple syrups and homemade shrubs. You can't beat shrubs you make from high quality fresh fruit when available. Both have uses in non-alcoholic drinks as well. Lavender simple syrup is a great addition to fresh lemonade and for baking. I've used flavored simple syrups and shrubs as additions to home-made applesauce and rhubarb. As for infusing tobacco, peyote or lamb chops in alcohol, I can't think of a more unappealing way to poison yourself. I know people do make bacon infused drinks, but you can also use smoky tea and it's far easier to make a cuppa than smoke a pig. If I went to the effort of making my own bacon (not gonna, but admire others who do) dropping it in a glass of vodka would be at the bottom of a long list of fun ways to eat consume it.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_breakfast_cereals This is a pretty comprehensive list of cereals. The article notes which cereals changed names but don't note the date of that change, which is too bad. For instance Corn Pops are listed as 1951 and it is noted they were originally called Sugar Pops. They don't say when the name was changed. I must have eaten a lot of Sugar Pops and Rice Krispies. My parents ate a lot of toasted English muffins and never made a hot breakfast except on weekends. One of the most interesting aspects of cereal consumption was that the boxes provided reading material and business opportunities, so reading and math skills became an integral part of breakfast. Sending box-tops in for a toy became a way of negotiating and parents were not any part of it. Wasn't that the first time you ever put a stamp on an envelope and wrote an address on it without being prompted or cajoled? My husband goes a step further. He claims he learned his first lesson in cheating: that if you sent the box-bottom in for another toy it always worked. Too bad my brain has deteriorated. I remember the cereals I ate, but not the ones my daughter, 28, had when she was little. I do know that whatever she was eating my husband was eating as well. He remembers mini-wheats (sometimes frosted) and cheerios (regular) as part of their regular breakfast in the 90's. If my husband (the shopper) brought home Shredded Wheat or Chex I would eat that once in a while, but I was already married to toast. I think it's funny how much nostalgia there is over cold cereal for boomers and gen x-ers. My only real nostalgic moment over cereal now comes if I open a fresh box of cheerios. That heady smell doesn't last long; by evening the thrill is gone. But I haven't done that for years.

About roasting poblanos: I spent my twenties living in New Mexico, and the plastic bag method was pretty common. But recently I've discovered that you don't need so much moisture to easily peel a chile. Now I just put the roasted blistered chiles on a cookie sheet and cover loosely with a damp towel. Within ten minutes they are a snap to peel and the final product has far more structure since there is far less "sweating" involved. And structure is the goal here, hence the wisdom of picking out chiles that are not twisted. My preferred method of roasting is the broiler, so I can do a large number at a time. I've never tried using my comal, but I should see what that's like. I do agree that the faster the roast the better, since overcooking the chiles makes them limp and harder to work with.

Liuzhou, I realized I didn't know where you are, so I looked it up. Pictures of Guangxi province look amazing, but given the sub-tropical climate it isn't surprising lamb is uncommon. I love that combo of lamb and cumin, but I assume that's part of a northwestern Chinese cuisine. Seems you are eating a lot of donkey these days! I had no idea.

Millennials are generally children of the baby boomers. They follow Generation X, so the oldest millennials were born in the early eighties. The exact definition is of course fluid, but it is generally considered about a twenty year span. Some define the cutoff as late as 2004, but I think it is easiest to use 9/11 as an approximate birth of the youngest millennials. If you are younger than 15 you've never known a world without camera phones.

I grew up eating english muffins or cold cereal: Sugar Pops, Frosted Flakes, Rice Crispies, Chex and Trix...that generation. And yes, I did order sea monkeys once. Those individual perforated boxes were definitely a highlight of childhood. I just eat toast with marmalade now. My husband is a treasure trove of cereal memorabilia, mostly stories that revolve around squabbling siblings or intense study of the back of the box. He still eats a bowl of cereal every morning after several slices of toast. And he still leaves 2 tablespoons of cereal in the box so no one can accuse him of finishing it off. This thread made me realize I haven't any idea what our millenial daughter does for breakfast, so I just quizzed her. She claims she actually eats cold cereal with milk and fruit once in a while, but typically she slaps together a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and eats that when she gets to work. She says she ate a lot of oatmeal during her poverty stricken grad school years, since it was much cheaper than cold cereal. It really is amazing how much a box of cereal costs now.

What does the Dial-O-Matic do that the Benriner doesn't? I never heard of this contraption. Probably because in the 50's and 60's I wasn't doing any cooking, really, and my mother wasn't into kitchen gadgets or cooking much either. She did have a great passion for celery root remoulade, but I haven't a clue how she julienned anything. And when I was a teenager I didn't care what she was doing anyway. I did end up buying the Benriner wide body, and I love it. So simple! Great for citrus slices. That deBuyer mandoline is never going to see any action in my house. I'm completely intimidated by it.

One of my reliable and easy soups--one which I typically have all the ingredients for on hand--is a basic Italian tomato soup with rice. It is just onion, garlic, celery or fennel, half a can of good plum tomatoes, chicken or other broth and rice. I like to use arborio rice, and if I have some I will add swiss chard or Tuscan Kale or peas. But really it's a simple comfort soup that can be made when sick or when there is nothing but staples in the house. I also have a recipe kicking around that I've never made called "Smoky Tomato Soup" which is put together in a way that doesn't appeal to me, but which has one remarkable ingredient: lapsang souchong tea. Other recipes for smoky soups usually include the flavor of chipotles or smoked paprika, but I that's not what I wanted. So I decided to simply add some smoky tea to my regular recipe. The smoky soup recipe calls for steeping the tea in chicken broth, but that just seems totally weird. So instead I made a strong cup of the tea and tossed it in shortly after adding the broth to the mix. To my surprise it was really a great addition, and gave no extra flavor except the smokiness to the soup. The one cup of strong tea was pretty subtle and it would be interesting to see how it tastes with stronger brew.

This morning's NYT has a hilarious article about this. A snippet: An editorial in The Daily Telegraph, a conservative British newspaper, noted that the virtue of the traditional French croissant was its foreignness. “They must not be sliced in two, like buns to be buttered,” it observed. “They must be torn, and each morsel eaten with jam, even alien apricot jam, if wanted.” The editorial added: “Otherwise nature is outraged, floods will again sweep the land and murrains strike our cattle. Or we could just stick with toast.”

Never heard of Krion, but I went to the website. There isn't much emphasis on residential kitchens as far as I can tell, so perhaps it has been used mostly in commercial venues up to now? Caesarstone is the only composite countertop I have any experience with, but my counters are a dark shade and staining has not been an issue at all. I would expect seams to show more in lighter, uniform surfaces, Several years ago I saw a spectacular kitchen. The entire kitchen, and I mean ALL vertical surfaces --drawer and cabinets as well as countertops and molded sink-- were done in snow white corian. Never seen anything like it since, but it was very dramatic.

I say yes to anything called a Moroccan Quickie. They would be a terrific side in an Israeli salad plate or garnish in a falafel sandwich along with the cucumbers. My latest quick pickle was Watermelon radish. Excellent texture, most gorgeous deep pink color that bleeds to the edge of the slices and into the brine as well. Besides straight from jar to maw, I've discovered many uses for them. Shredded or julienned they give a kick to slaw and I also liked them as a sub for pickled red onion in tacos. I could see them in banh mi by themselves or perhaps as an addition to the usual daikon and carrot mix. The ones I used have a little more bite than daikon. Would make a striking combo with those bright orange carrots.

My marmalade is usually 90 to 100 percent Seville oranges. We will fill in as necessary if the oranges we get are not as juicy as they might be and we need more juice in order to make 6 full half pints per batch. The Sevilles we get are not especially juicy, compared to many other oranges or citrus fruits, so if we are short we will top off our juice with a grapefruit, lemons, a lime, a bergamot when available, various sweeter oranges. A couple of meyer lemons or half a grapefruit really doesn't make a lot of difference in the flavor; but a whole bergamot can. I've had terrific lemon-lime marmalade and grapefruit marmalade, but I haven't made them myself. I should try, because it would probably be cheaper than using the Sevilles that show up two months out of the year. I find the trickiest part when not using a juice mix with the approx bitter/sour taste of Sevilles is getting the amount of sugar right. I like my marmalade to be pretty bitter, but a "low sugar" marmalade implies one of two things: you are going to find it inedible or you may end up standing over the pot boiling it forever. When you say "low sugar" are you meaning you would use some type of sugar substitute? I wish I knew more about the science, but I believe the ratio of sugar to fruit to pips (or gelling ingredient) all has bearing on how long the marmalade takes to reach set up stage and whether it sets up the way you like it.