Katie Meadow

Sometimes I throw away food that isn't yet spoiled because I just know nobody will eat it and it pains me (and makes me nauseous) to see moldy food. In my mind I am preventing it from rotting by throwing it out while it's still edible. Broccoli Rabe wastes away in the crisper more than half the time we buy it. When I cook it I love it, but somehow I have a hard time dealing with it, especially once I see any yellow on the leaves. I don't like tasting cinnamon in apple pie, but I do like it on applesauce when served with latkes. Watching people eat chicken with their fingers is gross, but I've done it in private. I love fresh pineapple on pizza, especially without ham.

I too recently acquired this book. Less daunting for me than the Cake Bible, but then I'm not too interested in cake. My first foray (before I actually owned the book) was the result of Chris Hennes raving about her open-face blueberry pie last summer. The filling was outstanding. This New Year's Day we made the "Best All American" apple pie, using three different types of apple. Again, the filling was fabulous--and, I am seriously picky about apple pie. My daughter made the currant scones (her first time ever making scones) and they were very good. I should say that my husband is the flour guy; I do the pizza toppings, he does the dough, I do the pie fillings, he does the crust. He prefers a Julia Child crust to the one he tried from the RLB book, so we are using her pie fillings but not her crust. At least for now. Doesn't that picture of the honeycomb pie with the little bees just kill you?

An Amazon email came this morning highlighting Valentines Day related kitchen gifts. Okay, a red Kitchen Aid mixer is fine, if red appliances appeal. But a heart-shaped 2 qt Le Creuset Dutch oven? A heart-shaped cake or tart pan I can maybe see (although it isn't my style exactly) or even heart-shaped ramekins for the custard fanatic who already has everything, but a Dutch oven? What can you do with heart-shaped soup?

I don't have a purple color issue. Yes, the chicken does darken a bit, but there are enough other ingredients in the mix I suppose--and perhaps the use of less grapey wine--to make the color unremarkable, and not unappetizing in any way. I make a large amount, using approx 3 modest sized birds. I often use extra thighs, so maybe the dark meats tends to look less stained. After browning, the chicken pieces get layered in a deep pot with about a half can of chopped San Marzano tomatoes (I would use fresh if they were in season), garlic, crumbled bacon, herbs and spices. We do use cognac; 6 T only, flamed in a ladle and poured over the layers. Then goes one bottle of wine, a quart of rich chicken stock, and water if necessary to just cover the ingredients. The veggies don't get put in right away. We use a decent wine, one that would certainly be the equivalent of a $15 bottle; recently it's been a relatively light cab blend made by my BIL. It isn't very purple to begin with, and I guess the sauce picks up some color from the tomatoes, and perhaps too the color is softened by the chicken stock. To avoid overcooked or tough chicken, the overall cooking time is not that long--around 45 min. I suppose a really old rooster would require a lot more time. Then some of the juices are removed and reduced down, which also probably helps the color.

This week we made a large pot of posole verde and a big batch of calabacitas with queso fresco. I used Rancho Gordo posole and Hatch green chile that friends had brought back from NM and frozen. This was my first time using the RG posole. Delicious.

This topic is a wee bit silly. Really, all we are talking about is cooking: how much we like to do it, and what foods matter to us enough to make them a labor of love. Someone who eats a can of spaghettios (sp?) might find a good quality jarred sauce and de Ceccho dried pasta a revelation. To someone else for whom pasta is a staple and a great love, only home-made pasta and sauces will do. People who don't cook at all usually think making a simple tomato sauce is time-consuming. People who do a lot of cooking know that a decent sauce can be made blindfolded with a can of San Marzano tomatoes, an onion, some butter, and half an hour. Things are a snap only if you are comfortable doing them and have a pantry full of staples. Just imagine making salsa if you had never done it before; how many questions you would have. Fresh or cooked salsa? Fresh tomato or canned? Canned green chile? Chile powder? Where can you buy fresh chile? What type of fresh chile should I buy? How hot is it? What's the difference between red chile and green? How do you roast chile? What is cilantro and where do I get it? Lemon or lime juice? Some of us have the advantage of being born into a family that passes down recipes and traditions, or have parents that were adventurous, talented cooks. It may rub off, and it may not. Others don't have any home-cooking traditions, and buy the same canned and prepared foods their parents bought. Some take the leap and experiment on their own using cook books, some take cooking classes as a way to start. Every cook makes a dozen decisions about what's important every day. I don't care enough about mayo to make my own, so Best Foods tastes fine. I do care about salsa, so I find home-made makes a big enough difference to be worth the effort. But on the other hand, in summer, I always have plenty of fresh good tomatoes and cilantro and limes in the house, so I don't have to shop for ingredients. I love soups, so I care about stock, and make my own. To me, it tastes astronomically better than any type of broth I can buy. I don't like pate enough to make my own. I don't like gardening enough to grow my own produce. I don't want to kill my own chickens (or keep them, for that matter.) What you end up cooking and eating is a complex inter-relationship of what you enjoy doing, what foods matter to you, and how much time and money is available, no?

The apps have grown to include pumpernickel slices with smoked salmon, cucumber and an approximation of creme fraiche, since my husband baked two killer loaves of pumpernickel yesterday. We usually make a tarte tatin to go with Coq au Vin, but my husband is pretty enamored of our new version of apple pie, and when someone volunteers to make a pie, I don't object. He is doing a Julia Child double crust, and the filling is RLB, which so far is my favorite. Shamanjoe, there will not be blood. No rooster, either. My life is complicated enough. There will be plenty of good wine in it and home-made stock and flaming cognac is involved at some point. It is an old recipe (we can't remember where it came from) and pretty labor-intensive. But worth it.

Three friends coming for dinner, one says she's bringing caviar, another's bringing champagne My husband's on a Manhattan kick, so there's that... Clarine or Brebiou cheese, olives Spinach, fennel and leek soup for a starter Coq au Vin (rice and green salad) Apple pie, choice of whipped cream or vanilla ice cream

I'm a little late to the party, but my daughter and I spotted BWJ and impulsively bought it for her dad for xmas; he's the one in the family who has a way with flour, and he's devoted to an earlier version of Julia's pie crust. So far my daughter made the buttermilk scones (she added currents), which were excellent. My husband made the very plain White Loaves and I thought they were the best white loaves I ever tasted. We had slices still warm with soup the first night. It makes spectacular toast and sandwiches and, if we can save enough until tomorrow morning, I am guessing it will be great French toast. I can't get over how good this bread is, and how picture perfect the loaves. Has anyone made the pumpernickel? The addition of prune lekvar in this recipe is sort of surprising. That's the only ingredient not in the house. In fact it's been a gazillion years since I tasted that.

Chris, my invitation must have gotten lost in the mail. Can you send me another?

Zoe, I always felt I could get enough bitterness from the peel and from regulating the amount of sugar, without needing the pith. Marmalade is definitely a matter of very personal taste, but I find the pith adds something I don't want in the flavor and a gumminess or sometimes a cloudiness to the final product. But I do like a fairly delicate, clear thin-cut marmalade. Blether, perhaps I compensate by taking the temp only up to 213 before canning. Some recipes I read suggested testing for set-up by dropping the hot liquid on a freezing cold plate, and seeing how fast it drips, and the implication was that this might happen around 215 degrees. I found that was too hot, and I prefer my marmalade a little looser. Just going by temp actually seems a better gauge than the drip test, but we pretty much have our variables under control at this point. That said, and happy as I am every time I crack open a fresh jar, I would still like to figure out how to get a little more caramel taste without it being too set up. Yesterday my husband returned from shopping to tell me that Sevilles are in, so I guess next week we will get into gear!

I've never made lemon marmalade, but I make orange marmalade every year. Any attempt to caramelize the sugar and get a smokier, darker more caramel flavor has resulted in a thicker, more solid end result. I haven't yet figured out how to get a delicate loose texture and a caramel taste. You produced a lot of marmalade from those nine lemons, and it sounds like the volume you ended up with is the result of using all the lemon--pith, peel and pulp. I use only some pulp in the bag with the pips, and I don't use any pith at all. I juice the fruit, add water, and boil it with the bag of pips for about 20 minutes. Then I add fine-cut peel without any pith, and boil it another 25 minutes. For thick-cut marmalade, I guess the peel should be boiled the full amount of time. Then I measure the total liquid in the pot, and add 3/4 c sugar per cup of juice. I also squeeze out the pip bag into the mix. Then the liquid gets boiled again, until it reaches 213 degrees. If I take it any higher, it gets thicker than I like it. This doesn't take more than 45 min or an hour, I think, but I just go by temp. The recipes mine is based on don't call for macerating the fruit before boiling, so start to finish--my husband and I working together--it's more like two plus hours. I start with 3 c of orange juice per batch, often adding the juice of one lemon and the juice of one bergamot to the 3c orange juice. My formula is 2.5 c total juice to 6 c water. I usually get approx 5 half-pints of marmalade from this amount, plus some extra. I've always followed the advice to make small batches. The longer you cook it, the less volume you will get, of course. Once I tried to increase the caramel flavor by melting one cup of the sugar, caramelizing it, and then adding the boiled juice and the rest of the sugar. The result was good flavor and dark color, but a marmalade that was too set-up. Perhaps I should have tried taking it to a slightly lower temp that 213. I don't know if that would have made the difference. Perhaps the caramelizing of the sugar affects the set-up somehow. Edited to add: I use an old Creuset cast iron w/enamel pot.

I like it julienned and mixed in with cabbage to make a slaw. My favorite way to eat kohlrabi is just sliced very thin and sprinkled with good salt. I can eat a couple of good size kohlrabis like this while I'm cooking or having a cocktail. In the last few years I've noticed a lot of kohlrabi in Oakland's Chinatown, although I don't think I've ever identified it in restaurant meals I've had. I can imagine it would be good with garlicky spicy stir-fry of various kinds.

1. Rutabagas. Definitely agree. I don't even think I know what they look like. 2. Barley. Great cooked with browned onions and chicken broth. Great mixed with sauteed mushrooms, like the mushroom and barley take-out of my childhood. Fantastic in all kinds of soups. I like it better than soup with rice or noodles. Think Scotch Broth. Now there's an under-appreciated soup. 3. Parsnips. Gaining ground! Last night for dinner I made mashed potatoes and parsnips with a little chevre and chives. Really good. And for thanksgiving I made a sweet-potato parsnip pie, based partly on the David Tanis recipe for parsnip pie in Fine Cooking. 4. Okra. You either love it or hate it. If you hate it, it's because somebody didn't know how to cook it, or you never actually tried it and you're operating on heresay. I would debate that it's under-appreciated, since the people who appreciate it (like me) appreciate the hell out of it. I miss it all winter long. 5. I didn't appreciate beets, except in borscht, for many years, but I discovered that my problem was that I didn't like handling dark red beets. Once I discovered chiogga amd golden beets I went to town. 6. Collards. Under-appreciated by most of the country; they don't need or deserve to be boiled to death. 7. Broccoli Rabe. Far better than regular broccoli. How about over-appreciated foods? Tilapia, bubble tea, bottled ketchup, ladyfingers, bananas.

Darienne, I had a really good piece of pie in Moab, but that was about 35 years ago. My standards were lower and nothing ever stays the same, anyway. We travel with a cooler. We also try hard not to spend a lot of money eating out when we are on the road. Summer is easier, since picnics are not so problematic at parks and rest areas as they might be in inclement weather, and summer also means local fruit stands. But you aren't traveling in the summer. I take lots of pre-cut crudites in well sealed bags, lots of apples, a good supply of my favorite crackers, and always a big chunk of some type of hard aged cheese, like a pecorino or something else that satisfies in relatively small amounts and keeps well. Hummus, peanut butter or other spreads work well for us. And I usually take a supply of energy bars and good chocolate. Smaller towns often have a fast and simple detour to the original downtown, and if you cruise Main St you can often find a homey local spot; the food might be pedestrian, but it won't be corporate. If some really sweet looking cafe or diner pops up we might spring for an opportunistic meal, but I don't drive out of my way on a road trip looking for places to eat--especially if the dog is with us. I get far too sick of driving to do any extra. When I am driving through the west I often find that taco trucks near a small downtown can be a good bet. My personal horror: spending even a dime for dreadful fast food and depressing atmosphere. I'd rather just buy a cup of tea and eat a bittersweet chocolate bar.

Luckily only one knife mishap was bad enough to land him in the emergency room (at midnight, though, which wasn't much fun.) I consider it a minor miracle that our daughter is still in one piece, considering some of the dangers to which she was exposed while her dad was in charge. On the plus side, she is a talented rock climber and not afraid to try new things. Meanwhile, I've learned to be extra careful in the kitchen, given some of the strange places that knife blades have been known to turn up.

There are those of us (I'm one) who look at situations--in the kitchen or elsewhere--and see an accident waiting to happen. Many of us have never had a serious accident actually caused by the imagined carelessness, yet we can see the potential and automatically protect ourselves and others from it happening. Then there are people like my husband: optimistic risk-takers who see the big picture, who think they can carry twice as many wine glasses as might be prudent, and who blithely rests the knife with the sharp edge UP in the dishdrain; they dismiss the possibility of accident as being not worth the benefits of believing that things will not go wrong for them. He has cut himself ten times more often than I have--and I do ten times the cooking. The world wouldn't go round with only one kind of person. In our house sharp knives never go in the dishwasher. My husband is adamant about that, but it isn't because someone might get stabbed. It's because he wants to preserve the wood of the handle and would never mistreat it!

And yet another source is Hoppin' Johns. HJ sells stone-ground white grits and they always seem fresh. He suggests storing them in the freezer, and I do. I start my grits with a T butter, some salt, and water, but then add about a cup total of milk and/or half and half during the cooking process. I sometimes add cheese (toward the end, along with more butter, more salt and pepper) if I'm not having any other protein with my grits. I usually don't add cheese if I'm making shrimp 'n' grits. I like to make a simple fresh spicy tomato salsa that works with or without the shrimp. I love cheesy grits with salsa for breakfast. Of course it's always a temptation to have leftover plain grits with maple syrup, etc. Recently I tried breakfast grits with Shagbark Hickory syrup and that was pretty yummy. I can certainly see subbing bacon fat for some of the butter, although I never have. Another way I like to cook grits is to add some creamy type of chevre when the grits are close to done. Then I pour the grits (or some portion I don't plan on eating immediately) into a form to make about an inch-thick slab, or slightly less. I cut it in squares the next day and fry in butter (or whatever) until it's crispy on the outside and melty on the inside. If it's summer, I often put it on the grill. And it just so happens I do know what a cathead biscuit is, but I've never eaten one nor have I ever been in the south. My husband is working on his biscuit technique (tonight, if fact) but hasn't progressed to catheads yet.

Just want to say this thread inspired me to buy what I think is my first bottle of rye...ever. I grew up in Manhattan, but don't ever remember my parents making or drinking Manhattans, either with bourbon or rye. My husband and I typically drink straight Scotch or Gin cocktails, and I've never liked bourbon. Sorry, but it tastes frighteningly like the banana flavored antibiotic Augmentin. Somewhere I got the idea that a Manhattan was always made with bourbon. We made the above described cocktail without the lemon oil, shaken briefly and poured into a martini glass. Delicious! Tell me, how does one squeeze lemon oil over the top? Would a lemon twist do the job? We voted against buying any cherries for garnish, since BevMo had only the typical Shirley Temple variety and every time I eat one of those I feel like I shouldn't have.

Oliver, a friend of mine who used to be a professional chef likes the Lincoln line of non-stick skillets. East Bay Restaurant Supply in Oakland carries them.

Is salt a problem too, or just fat? I've taken to making ham stock to flavor beans and greens. I use ham shanks and then de-fat the broth. My husband likes the meat from the shanks for salads, and he adds it back into beans, but I don't miss the meat as long as I have the smoky broth. The broth can be salty, though, so I compensate by not adding a lot of extra salt. If I really want to reduce the salt I soak the shanks in cold water for half an hour and then rinse well. For cooking greens for two people (I like collards) I use about a half cup of the ham broth and reduce it down a bit.

So, Ben and Prawncrackers, let's say I have a yen for wanton soup and don't happen to have any Chinese chicken broth on hand or the time to make a fresh batch of stock. I pretty much always have a variety of sizes of plain home-made chicken stock and the same of ham stock (made from smoked ham shanks) in the freezer. Could I combine them in a pinch to use for a wonton soup? My ham stock is typically pretty intense and when I make red beans & rice I usually add about 30 to 40 percent more water to the pot. What proportion of chicken stock to ham would you suggest? I'm thinking it shouldn't really taste hammy in the end, right?

I would add unsalted stock or water and serve it over plain rice. Or add a generous amount of cooked pasta to it. It won't be the same soup any more, but that's how I would probably cut the salt.

You might check out the Whirley Pop. It has a crank that mixes the kernels on the bottom; they have a very down-on-the-farm video about it on the website. But after making popcorn on the stovetop for years, I don't think mixing is necessary. I start with one layer of popcorn in hot oil, don't shake or stir, and get almost no unpopped kernels. It seems to me that once a kernel pops it ends up on top of the unpopped ones, so every kernel is sitting in oil until it's ready to do its thing. I do think the quality and freshness of the popcorn makes a difference, and so does the heat level.

Ginger, garlic, spring onions, star anise (like maybe 1 only) and a few whole peppercorns. Lately I've started adding a couple stalks of lemon grass, which maybe isn't so Chinese, but I like it.