Katie Meadow

I've taken to adding chocolate to any pot of chile with a red chile base. I suppose that's a cousin to mole, although the result is not identifiably chocolate-y as it is with mole. I don't think most people would ever guess, but it definitely does a subtle thing. Works great with black beans. (I also add a short cup of strong black coffee to same; for some reason that's especially good in chile that has pork instead of beef.) When I add chocolate I use unsweetened cocoa, mix it to a slurry with a little water and just enough sugar to make it interesting but not very sweet. Green & Black's organic cocoa is my current favorite. I also added a small amount to braised short ribs that had tomatoes in the sauce, but I was very timid about it and I couldn't even tell if it made a difference. I considered adding a little bit to a roasted tomato soup but then lost my nerve. That might work really well if you have some kind of spicy garnish on the soup, like maybe floating toasts with smudge of harissa aioli on them? But there it is again-- the chocolate/chile connection. It's hard to imagine what in the savory world besides tomatoes has a natural affinity for chocolate, but if you look at the Nutella threads people combine that with all kinds of wacky stuff. I like Nutella with salted peanut butter, so there must be a whole world out there that capitalizes on the chocolate/salt relationship; it's just ready to stick its leg out and trip the salted caramels.

Can anyone clarify some definitions? What exactly is a demi-glace? Google/Wiki has some contradictory info. Some sources say a demi-glace is a reduction of combined beef and veal stock. Others imply that it is a blend of veal stock and brown sauce. As step #1 of our thanksgiving gravy, my husband and I have always made a brown sauce using an old James Beard recipe which specifies as an ingredient beef bouillon. What exactly is bouillon? Is it basically a reduction of beef stock? Would any intense stock be an equivalent? Last year, in an attempt to get away from any canned and over-salted products we subbed some flavorful beef stock we had frozen earlier. It was fine, but I am thinking that a rich or reduced veal stock might be even better (not that I plan on making it myself.) What do you think?

Scallops and banana bread. Those are the only things I can think of that are generally considered appealing that I really don't like. All other bivalves: bring 'em on. I love raw oysters but I don't much care for them cooked as in chowder. Also I am not fond of really rare lamb, as in leg of, but a small med-rare grilled lamb chop I can get into. I don't like liver, brussels sprouts, or pastis, but generally those are not considered things you are "supposed to like" so I don't think they qualify (well, okay, I know I'm gonna catch a lot of grief about the pastis.) I also don't think crummy junk food or most fast food qualifies either. That isn't a category or a food--typically it's just cheap ingredients poorly prepared. Two treats from my childhood that were rare and coveted: caviar and bone marrow. I love them both; caviar with vodka and bone marrow with salt on fresh rye bread. Oh, not to be wet blanket, but honestly it would be prudent and polite not to compare foods you don't like to something clearly disgusting and negative. Keep it to yourself! Play nice.

Dunno! The texture was fine, they were cooked to the right degree of doneness--knife-tender as you say--and the dish looked lovely in the serving bowl. As far as I know I followed the direx closely, didn't make any gross errors or omissions. I cook with fresh chokes a lot, all seasons, and sometimes they are more flavorful than other times, but I've never had a "bad batch" so I doubt the vegetable was at fault. This method of cooking just didn't seem to bring out the best in artichoke flavor. Maybe it just isn't a good recipe? No one (except of course my husband after the guests were gone) said a critical word about them, but no one said anything good either, and there was some leftover--never a good sign when it comes to a small veg side-dish. I choked those down (aww) the next day out of principle. It was simply... underwhelming. You make it and lemme know what you think.

That chicken is inspiring. My kid comes home from college this weekend and perhaps I will make it! I am relatively new to eG and was pleased to see this thread, since I am very fond of this book. I have no other Mario cookbooks; I've looked at them but Molto Italiano appeals in its simplicity. I've made many of the recipes and so far only one has been a failure. Currently I am completely enamored of that simple little clementine dessert w/balsamic and pepper. I have citrus cravings in the afternoon and this is just perfect. Kevin, about problematic: has anyone made the radicchio pancakes? There's a wacky mistake in the recipe. Maybe he has a lazy editor. The ingredients list calls for 4 tbsps unsalted butter. In the direx there isn't a single mention of this butter. That's fine with me, since I try to avoid butter, but what would it be for? I ignore it and they are wonderful, with or without the ricotta salata. I usually have radicchio and eggs around, so this is a perfect emergency meal. I have made the mostarda several times and served it as an app w/the suggested coppa, always to rave reviews. Recently I served a splurge dinner of the veal shanks and it was really easy (albeit absurdly expensive) and really excellent. I find his simple tomato sauce with thyme incredibly versatile. I keep it frozen and use it for all kinds of stuff--like the cauliflower soup and the shanks, but also for my own lasagne and eggplant parm. The failure, by the way, was the Artichokes Roman Style. It was labor intensive and no one liked it. Could have been lousy artichokes, but I don't think so. Maybe I like artichokes better when sauteed til crispy instead of simmered as these are done. I like his tomato sauce on pasta topped with crispy artichoke hearts.

And they all originated on the island of Tangerina, no? At least that's what I remember from "My Father's Dragon," my childhood bible. I thought a tangelo was a cross between a tangerine and an orange, not a grapefruit. If so it should be called a tangeluit, altho that would trip up first-time pronouncers. It certainly doesn't taste or look like it has a grapefruit for a parent. Early this summer at the Berkeley Farmers' market someone was selling a small object which was labeled "mandarin/tangelo hybrid." I told them they should call it a mangelo and they looked at me like I was nuts. Speaking of clementines, I just discovered a really fun way to eat them a la Batali. He sections them, drops a coupla teaspoons of balsamic vinegar on, a sprinkle of sugar and then a grind of fresh pepper. It's really awfully yummy--and takes four seconds. I used a relatively sweet fig balsamic. He suggests it as a dessert, I'm into it for an afternoon snack.

I imagine that most owners of bars and restaurants have extremely strong personal feelings about the atmosphere they want to create; whether or not they are realistic or correct about their clientele only time will tell. Recently my family and I left a crowded restaurant within about two minutes of sitting down. We had reservations and had heard only great things about the food. We just didn't like the atmosphere. It was cramped, super noisy, with very uncomfortable seating. When we mentioned the noise level to the waitress she shrugged and said that was how they liked it, that they were trying to create an atmosphere where people were having a good time. Indeed, it seemed like they were. I was put off, but my husband reminded me that that was their right and that this type of "buzz by design" is more and more common. We could stay for nothing but the promise of good food, or we could leave and find something more comfortable and conducive to talk. I'm sure Mike could have found a much friendlier way of discouraging your laptop use and not lose a potential customer or get talked about online, but perhaps he was thrown by it, or perhaps he is socially awkward. Not a great trait for the owner of a bar. If you care enough you could go back without the laptop some evening and chat him up about it. It does occur to me though that using a laptop in an eating establishment after work hours may not be looked on kindly except in the most low-key neighborhood type of place. A laptop has too much soothing click and not enough buzz. Perhaps you were nursing where you were supposed to be nursed.

Radicchio. Cut roughly, saute a few minutes, add a little salt and pepper and minced garlic, saute another minute, remove. Top the pizza. My absolute favorite. Fresh artichoke hearts, saute first as well. Sweet onions, sliced very thin and carmelized slowly before topping. Swiss Chard. Saute first with garlic. Mixed peppers of all colors, done same way. Okay, now you can all start to laugh: chunks of fresh pineapple. Hawaiian Pizza minus the ham. We started doing this when our daughter was young and anti-green stuff. I'm not a veg but for some reason I prefer meatless pizza. Husband and daughter sometimes got some Canadian bacon or some such thing on their half, and they were happy, but I think that the pineapple can stand on its own. I admit I have never had the nerve to serve it to grown-up guests, but once in a while it's very fun! If you haven't had Hawaiian Pizza for a zillion years this will definitely send you into a reverie. Well, only if you liked it as a kid. If your guests eat seafood but not meat, clam or mussel pizza is yummy. We now prebake our crust on the stone for a few minutes, then remove and top w/tomato sauce, mozz and veggies and put back in the oven for another few minutes. After recent experiments with pre-baking I'm convinced it's a great thing if you like a crispy thin-crust pizza and don't have an oven that gets hotter than 500 degrees. If using tomato sauce this method helps prevent any sogginess and also keeps the toppings from over-cooking.

Marry me, HV. I fractured my arm and that's the only laugh I've had in three days. Until I saw your slow-roast post I was considering cooking our 28 lb turkey sous vide. I have a plastic bag originally used for a queen down comforter, so that should be big enough. I am planning to do it in the bathtub, keeping the water heater turned all the way up. Do you think that would work? Now I'm having doubts. And yes, it isn't easy to keyboard, let alone manhandle a turkey. For many years I have adopted my sister-in-law's method for turkey, which she claims is straight-ahead Nashville style. We call it "Shake-a-leg Molly." After stuffing every conceivable pocket or cavity and neatly sewing up the bird, place it on a rack in the pan and cover the top half with a double-layer of cheesecloth. Rub with an obscene amount of butter, then sprinkle on lots of salt, garlic powder and paprika. Tent w/foil, add a coupla cups water or broth to the bottom of the pan, and cook at 425 about 15 min per pound, basting after the first hour (although usually it doesn't take quite as long as the math would indicate.) The tent comes off and so does the cheesecloth (carefully) when there's about a half hour left of time, depending upon how brown the turkey is. Molly, now a vegetarian, does indeed come into the kitchen to shake the leg and invariably pronounces that it needs another half hour. This causes an argument between me and my husband, who have different priorities vis-a-vis light and dark meat. However, I always win, and in fact the breast meat is pretty moist and the dark meat is tender and thoroughly cooked. It also comes out dark golden and crispy skinned, very pretty. Is this really a known method and is it in any way traditional Tennessee or southern style? Just curious. And I was stretching the truth about the turkey--it's usually around 17 lbs, fresh, from a small independent Northern California farm, but not a heritage turkey.

I never imagined there were so many ways to pronounce one simple word; where else but eGullet? But thanks for this thread. Now I know we weren't making some hideous mess out of the word when we were in Provence recently, since several posters have confirmed that indeed it isn't a common aperitif in bars or cafes in France. My husband speaks pretty good French, but all the waiters were confounded when he ordered it. We gave up and instead got into drinking Porto, chilled, and then into Martini Rosso over ice with a slice of orange; both drinks have now become my new favorite warm-weather starters. I was introduced to Lillet by a friend who likes to add a splash of lemon juice and a twist of same. My husband likes to make a drink called a Corpse Reviver, which uses equal parts of gin, triple sec, Lillet Blonde and lemon juice. The recipe (from Gary Regan's Mixology) also calls for a drop of absinthe. We subbed Pastis; he likes more anise flavor, I like less. It's a very fun drink, altho the revival potential is lost on me---but then, I'm still alive. Absinthe, however, according to today's NYT, has been revived.

Ling, Vengroff, I never did follow up on my recent trip to WW. Here are a few observations. I checked out the salumeria where Ling found the delicious Petit Jesu. The owner is very nice, a transplant from my neck of the woods, the Bay Area. He has some wonderful meats and cheeses from a variety of places. In the East Bay certain sources seem to be shut out, so I've never before tasted anything from the Batali operation in Seattle--that was really interesting. I also had some fabulous Oregon and Washington cheeses I hadn't tasted either. We ate at 26 Brix and my steak was excellent; tasty and cooked just right for me. I thought my meal was the best--husband and daughter didn't order steak. We also had a reservation one night at Saffron. I have a daughter (student at Whitman) who has a very sophisticated palate but who has also acquired a philosphy that doesn't favor spending a lot of money on food--even when her parents are spending it. Admirable on the whole, but it can be annoying. In addition, she gets overstimulated and can't relax or have a good time if there's too much attitude or racket. Saffron has both. We walked in at about 7:30--all tables except ours were taken--and the noise was horrendous. In addition the chairs were so hard and uncomfortable my daughter balked and we left for a more subdued experience elsewhere. Had the weather been better and had it been daylight I can imagine sitting outside would have been great. This is a restaurant designed with a capital BUZZ in mind--a fact that the waitress had no hesitation confirming; she admitted it was noisy on purpose. It's the "anti-cozy" theory--high ceiling, tight seating, sound reverberating. Everyone appeared to be enjoying themselves, but we really wanted to talk to our kid! Some other time we'll go without her. Two mornings we picked up our NYT at Starbucks and then made a bee-line for the Colville Patisserie. Lovely place! The coffee was delicious and the cakes looked unbelievable. I think I am going to order a cake there for my daughter's birthday. Having just returned the week before from France, I will recuse myself from the croissant-judging.

What is the Feast of Seven Fishes? It sounds yummy. Are there even seven fishes left that aren't toxic or endangered?

My husband and I made lemon curd for many years until I got sick of it and also had to start watching my cholesterol. We tasted many commercial and artisanal curds and we always felt this one compared well. It is an easy recipe and very reliable; believe me, if it was a delicate operation we would be divorced by now. We never used a thermometer. The proportions and timing were arrived at after years of tweaking. It's quite tart. We experimented with using limes instead of lemons and cutting back the amount of sugar, and that wasn't half bad. This recipe yields approx 3 half-pint jars with a few tablespoons left over. The result is very spreadable, medium stiff. Perhaps if you want it very stiff you could cook it another five minutes. The consistency would work for a lemon tart I think, but we mainly used it as a spread for toast. 7/8 cup lemon juice (from 4 or 5 lemons--not meyer--way too sweet) fine zest from 3 of the lemons 4.5 medium-large eggs (okay I know that's a bit strange, but there it is) 1 stick sweet butter 1.5 cup plus 3T sugar Sterilize jars as you like. Grate lemon rind, eliminating all pith, set aside. Squeeze lemons and strain the juice to get 7/8 c. Beat the eggs (I would beat 5 and then pour off what I guessed was about a half an egg. My husband learned to look the other way. When he used all 5 eggs I thought the end product was too eggy.) In a double boiler melt the butter, keeping the water at a modest simmer. When just melted add sugar, juice, zest. When warm but not too hot, add the beaten eggs--all at once, not slowly, so you keep them from cooking too quickly. Simmer uncovered over medium or med-low heat, stirring constantly, about 20 minutes, til smooth and creamy. The consistency may look questionnable the first 10 minutes, but keep stirring and have faith. It should end up smooth and creamy. Ladle into jars. Keeps 2 months in the fridge.

Howdy, Jensen. You have sound instincts. The breeder's definition of a Heritage turkey in the above mentioned NYT article includes the ability of the turkeys to propagate naturally. Now would be a good time for a geneticist to step into this discussion and shed some light on whether or not there is a proper usage for the terms "Heritage" and "Heirloom" as used in today's food production. Common sense suggests that these terms should derive their use from the original meaning of the words. Heritage is used mainly with respect to humans, and refers to a birthright, and so implies a genetic relationship. Heirloom is most commonly used to refer to objects that belong to those humans and which are passed down through generations. Perhaps "Heritage" is a better term for those older types of tomatoes--but too late now.

Radicchio is one of my very favorite vegetables. I usually use the round kind since that's what is most often available, or more rarely treviso. In Venice I saw several kinds I had never seen before--some wild and twisty ones. Cooking radicchio, especially with a little garlic, seems to take the edge off the bitterness, but that bitter taste is part of the appeal. I shred radicchio and throw it into risotto about ten minutes before it's done. I briefly saute it w/minced garlic and top a pizza halfway through the cooking time. I quarter it and marinate it in balsamic vinegar (actually I use a relatively cheap red vinegar and add some balsamic), olive oil, salt and pepper for about half an hour then grill it slowly on the bbq until the edges are a little charred. But my standby--and the easiest way--is a simple saute. I cut it roughly and separate the leaves, then saute it in olive oil for two or three minutes on modest heat, add salt and pepper. Another minute and I add a couple of minced garlic cloves. When it is tender, only another couple of minutes more, I finish it with a splash of balsamic and serve it up. If you find it too bitter for your taste, use a sweet balsamic vinegar. I sometimes like to use a fig balsamic. It's a five minute side-dish! I've never added prosciutto or pine nuts but that sounds good. Just tossing on a handful of toasted pine nuts would dress it up a little. Eating it on pasta sounds great too. I've seen traditional recipes that pair it with balsamic vinegar and raisins but I'm not into cooked raisins.

Wow, I'm amazed--as usual--by the ambition of so many eGulleters. I'm with those in the "simplify, simplify, simplify" category--and my immutable responsibilities for the yearly dinner w/my husband's large family only extend to the turkey and stuffing/dressing, gravy and a cranberry side-dish. My first thought is that if you are inviting friends who are good cooks, by all means let them help! Let them bring veggie side-dishes, their best pie, etc. You can't have too many vegetables. If they are bad cooks tell them to bring wine. After many years of hors d'oeuvres before a turkey dinner, I think less is more. With the exception of my father-in-law's home-cured olives, we have pretty much abandoned the pre-feast. Keeping it simple and not too rich seems to have a good payoff. Olives, spiced nuts, cruditees--it's my belief your guests will thank you--and maybe the kids will actually sit still for longer during dinner. Keep that beautiful brie for the day after when it will be easier to appreciate. My husband grew up assuming that you had to have mashed potatoes and yams or sweet potatoes at T-giving, but I grew up with only yams. Baked whole yams are yummy with butter and salt right out of the oven; they can be kept warm easily and timing isn't critical. Mashed potatoes are an art form and I think they are one of the hardest dishes to make really well and get to the table hot in the chaotic environment of a Thanksgiving kitchen. I also think they lose their loft if they sit around. 1) find a friend with talent to take on the job while you are busy with deglazing and gravy-making and all the last minute stuff or 2) make a twice-cooked mashed potato dish: whip up potatoes with goat cheese, garlic, butter and chives or whatever way ahead of time, put it in a casserole and then stick it in the oven close to dinner time. Stuffing/Dressing: Half of the adults in my husband's family are vegetarians. They won't eat stuffing cooked inside the turkey, but that's my favorite kind, so I make a vegetarian stuffing, stuff the bird, and then have a large casserole of the same dressing cooked separately. I make a chestnut dressing that's vey simple with white and cornmeal bread, onions, celery, apples and herbs: parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme! (I always assumed that Simon and Garfunkle wrote that song during Thanksgiving Break and the first time I ever attempted to cook a turkey I just followed their recipe.) The chestnuts get boiled or roasted and peeled a day or two ahead of time, so sauteing and assembling the dressing is pretty easy. As for gravy, my husband makes what is called a Quick Brown Sauce, which I believe came from an old James Beard recipe. Days ahead he cooks down a savory brew of red wine, veal stock, shallots, thyme, butter and then a little flour. That gets put in a jar. While the turkey cooks, the neck, gizzard, onion, parsley, gets simmered into a stock. That deglazes the pan after the bird is out, and then the brown sauce is added in the same roasting pan until the gravy is as we like it. It packs a huge amount of flavor and you can control the amount of thickening really easily that way. There seem to be five universal disagreements; anyone who can find solutions to them will have a great thanksgiving. You can compromise or overrule the offenders or commit murder. 1) The turkey should be cooked so that the breast meat remains moist and juicy OR so that the dark meat is tender and falls off the bone 2) Gravy should be delicate, meaty and relatively thin with only a very modest amount of flour and no dairy products OR thick and creamy 3) Brussel sprouts are disgusting OR no, they're actually good! 4) Marshmallows have no place at the dinner table OR, aww, but that's how my mother made it 5) Cranberries should be prepared raw so they are crunchy and tart OR cooked to death with ten pounds of sugar and then molded in the shape of the Taj Mahal. Confidential to Icanmakeit: Whizzed Giblets? But I'm usually too tired after a big dinner like this.

Here in the East Bay the typical platter usually has cilantro, thai basil, sliced jalapenos, cut limes and bean sprouts and there is always a bottle of Sriracha on the table. I make a sort of unorthodox or faux pho, using oxtails as my stock base, along with lemongrass, etc. I like to add chopped cilantro a few minutes before serving and then have the thai basil as a garnish. I would be interested in other ideas for a more classis stock perhaps. From a casual glance at some other threads, a lot of people like The Vietnamese Table book. I've never used it...does anyone like it for pho recipes? I disqualify pho restaurants if the broth is too sweet or too salty. That said, I would be happy with a bowl of pho for breakfast, lunch or dinner. For pho phreaks www.phofever.com has fun stuff on it, including some background on the history of pho, T-shirts, etc.

A Votre Sante!

Wonderful thread! Several posters mentioned Sarde en Saor. Earlier this month I was in Venice and flipped for this, ordering it every time I saw it on a menu. I also had a very exotic en saor of those tiny crabs or "moeche" (sp?) one night. The dish varied, and sometimes it was clear that the sardines had been floured and sauteed before marinating. Another time the sardines appeared to have been uncoated. Both were great. I would like some recipes, or at least just an elaboration of approx quantities and technique from anyone. The bones were left in (at least I think so), so I assume smallish sardines are called for. Some fish-mongers here in Northern CA are starting to carry fresh sardines now, so the rest of the ingredients should be easy. Feel free to jump in w/recipe ideas. Thanks, I can't wait to do this. I was surprised to see bergamot make an appearance on this thread. I had no idea that they are grown in southern Italy. If you like that flavor here is a suggested use. We can usually find Bergamot once a year, for only a few weeks, some time around late December/new years. My husband and I invented a very nice, albeit intense drink called the Bergamotini. It's really a Leap Year cocktail from the Savoy London (per Gary Regan) with a simple substitution of bergamot for lemon: 2 oz gin (we prefer simple Bombay--not saphire) 1/2 oz Grand Marnier 1/2 oz sweet vermouth 1/4 oz fresh bergamot juice 1 bergamot twist Shake and strain, add twist. Bottoms Up. And you will be.

For many years my husband and I made Lemon Curd for gifts. It's very easy to make and keeps well. Some people were crazy for it and begged for another jar a week later. Others (mostly relatives) looked crestfallen when they received it a second year. It was very good, but I burned out on it and now don't really care for it much. Besides, I think it was just an excuse for showing off our own cool labels bearing a cartoon of our Australian Shepherd. Our brand was called "Bossy Aussie." Before that we made seasoned vinegars with different herbs. Pathetic confession: one year (and this is a low point as far as inspiration goes) we bought a giant quantity of expensive olive oil and decanted it into smaller bottles for gifts. We probably had the nerve to slap our own labels on, too. Actually great olive oil is a gift I would always be happy to get. Most dreaded homemade gift: an orange stuck with cloves. Only appropriate if it comes from someone under the age of four. And even then it's a puzzle. Grown-ups who make them are scary. Favorite gift: my father-in-law's home cured olives. Most surprising gift that seemed inane but turned out to be useful: pine cones waxed and wicked or somehow treated for use as wood fire starters. I have a feeling it was a lot of work; my in-laws only did that once. Gift no one's ever given me that I would love to receive: really great bitter marmalade. Fine cut, a bit on the soupy side, clear, not cloudy. Love that story upthread about the sister-in-law and the sexy crocheted shopping bag.

Sounds yummy, Dave! Our Porto was not expensive; depending on the venue we paid anywhere from 3 to 4.5 euros per glass (awful exchange rate now.) What struck me was that everywhere we ordered it the taste was exactly the same, as if there was some standard tawny port served as an aperitif. Peter, I didn't realize that the French are more likely to drink port the way I had it--interesting. BevMo, by the way, is Beverages & More, a giant warehouse chain. I'm in Northern CA--dunno how widespread that operation is, but the prices are good for most of the standard liquors, beers and wines. Oh, and if taking a bath in pastis is your idea of heaven, you and my husband can soap eachother up to your hearts' content. I'll be watching the sunset here on Earth. To me, Pernod and Pastis are Klingon drinks, best sipped with an appetizer of live eels.

I'm not a port drinker and know close to zero about Port. In Provence, while my husband was practically taking a bath in Pastis, my mother and I started ordering Porto after a waiter suggested it. It was served chilled in lovely little glasses and it was perfect for those warm evenings. My husband claims he saw the bottle, and that it was tawny port. We ordered it in several towns and it always tasted exactly the same. Of course immediately upon getting home I went to BevMo thinking to duplicate the experience. Hundreds of bottles of Porto and not a clue what to buy. What was I thinking? More important, what was I drinking? Is there some standard Porto served as an aperitif in the south of France? Help me, I miss my dusty ochre violet hour!

Thanks Lior, Pransantrin and others who have expressed such tolerance and generosity toward their guests, and for pointing out that allergies, and some other food preferences can be worked around without feelings of hostility. Surely those of us who enjoy food enough to belong to eG have a repertoire of good dishes that can accomodate a lot of different tastes/restrictions. It's a balancing act between the host and the guests; hosts should inquire ahead and be flexible, and guests should take some responsibility for their own limitations by giving the host good warning, being appreciative, arriving with a dish of their own to share or expecting to eat whatever they can and have a good time. When those unusual situations arise, if there is a misunderstanding or if a guest is rude, you just have to laugh it off and not invite them back. I feel sorry for those people who have lots of strange food hang-ups that are neither dietary restrictions, allergies nor philosphically or culturally based. There are people who, for whatever reasons, simply don't enjoy food. We have all known someone like that; someone who fusses and picks over stuff, who worries all the time about what they will be able to eat, who obsesses over ingredients, and who ultimately ends up eating food that isn't very appetizing, as if it was medicine, or some kind of job. That's sad, but it isn't something to be mean about. As for you Jensen, thanks for the compliment--I tried to convince myself that naughtiness was a sign of smarts when my kid was young! I'm just witchy Aunt Katie. Those boys probably think I'm a dope. Doesn't she KNOW we hate nuts?

Your solution sounds energetic and delicious. I would have definitely wanted both the gratin and the oven chips if I was there. I don't think I have the stamina for making an extra dish. FYI, speaking of dairy free potatoes (and I apologize for veering off topic) I used to adore Potatoes Anna made with copious amounts of butter until I needed to reduce the cholesterol in my diet. The September issue of Bon Apetit has a good substitute. Its a Gordon Ramsay recipe for Potato-Onion Gratin that uses olive oil instead and it's very good. Speaking of Gordon Ramsay, is there an unnatural fascination with him on eG? No other chef, with the exception of Anthony Bourdain, seems to get more thread time. I think GR is very strange. But this potato dish is nice.