Chris Hennes

Oops, sorry Dorie, looks like I posted my edit at the same time you asked this. As I mention in the paragraph that was missing from the original post, there are some changes I'd make to this one if I were to make it again: I didn't find the flavors developed in the liquid transferred to the chicken. I'd be inclined to take the next step and turn that liquid into a sauce, probably just by reducing it some and mounting with butter.

I agree completely, last night's episode is the last one I watch, that was just stupid.

Chicken in a Pot: The Garlic and Lemon Version (pp. 206–208) I've never made "chicken in a pot," or at least never quite like this, with the dough sealing the edges of the dutch oven. Here's what that looks like without the lid, on its way into the oven: Joining the chicken in that pot are the usual raft of vegetables (carrots, onions, celery) as well as four heads of (unpeeled) garlic, and half of a lemon's worth of preserved lemon rind. You give everything a quick sear over high heat, then combine into the pot with white wine and stock, seal it up, and bake it at 450°F for 55 minutes. It comes out looking like this: I was a little unclear on how to serve it, given the amount of liquid in the bottom of the pot, and the whole unpeeled garlic cloves in the vegetable mix. In the end I just put all the vegetables on a plate with a piece of chicken and spooned a little of the "sauce" over the top: In general, the chicken was pretty overcooked (a thermometer into the breast read 175°F), so the first adjustment given my oven and my chicken is that it can't be cooked for 55 minutes. In addition, eating around the unpeeled garlic was annoying, so next time I'll pull it out before serving. And finally, the chicken didn't really wind up infused with any of the flavors of the surrounding liquid, so next time I think I'll strain it out and reduce it some, and actually serve it as a real sauce: that's where the flavor of the preserved lemon really comes to the fore.

Café Salle Pleyel Hamburger (pp. 240–242) Crunchy Ginger-Pickled Cucumbers (p. 340) I love getting new cookbooks... so many new recipes to try! It being Labor Day weekend here in the US, a burger seemed like a great meal choice. In addition, I think this particular recipe is the one I was most intrigued by when first reading through the book. The flavor combination looked so completely unlike anything I had ever had in a burger, I knew I had to try it. First, the ingredients: mixed in with the beef are capers, cornichons, sun-dried tomatoes, tarragon, and parsley. Under the burger is a red-onion and corriander relish. On top, parmesan cheese. Now, when I list out those ingredients the burger may not seem that odd, even to Americans. But there is not just a sprinkling of these ingredients: there is enough vegetable matter in these patties to qualify these burgers for genuine health-food status. OK, I may be exaggerating somewhat, but check these things out: Subtle that seasoning is not. And one bite of the burger confirms this in vivid detail: a massive punch of tarragon startles you awake, followed by the bright brininess of the cornichons and capers, the sweetness of the relish, and the "greenness" of the parsley. Somehow amid all of this the sun-dried tomatoes don't really pop, but that's probably a good thing: they are best left as a background note anyway (in my opinion). In fact, amid all of this, even the beef itself plays second fiddle. It's in there, but it's a background note. If you are looking for a burger to add to your regular backyard BBQ rotation, this is not the burger you are looking for. At least, if I served this here in Oklahoma and tried to call it a burger, I'd probably get lynched, or at least laughed out of the state. THAT SAID... I loved the flavors here, and the utter surprise of that first bite. Like I said, these won't be making their way onto my regular burger menu, but every once in a while, when I'm looking for something really different, these just might make an appearance. With the burgers I served the cucumber-ginger salad from the book. I like the taste combination in principle, but I found the ginger to be a bit too strong for me. If I made this again I'd cut back on the quantity. If you really like ginger this will be right up your alley, but otherwise I'd suggest a cautious approach.

Anyone have any shaping tips to get these to actually look like hamburger buns? I tried shaping them as boules and then flattening them a bit, but the poofed right back up due to oven spring, what I got were just little boules. I see a post about where someone is rolling the dough out and then cutting it with a biscuit-cutter: is that the only way?

FoodMan, are you talking about Aldrin, or Bourdain?

Dougal is coming at this from a scientific, thermodynamics, immutable-laws-of-the-universe perspective. Absent any actual experimental measurements of power draw, I'd tend to trust the thermodynamics before the anecdotal evidence (or evidence in an HVAC mechanic's handbook) anytime. A compressor kicking on more frequently is not the same as a compressor running longer.

By and large the difference between the various Mexican hot sauces I have (currently Valentina, Búfala, and Cholula) seems to be which chiles they feature. The spice levels are about the same, and the acidity is similar (though not identical), but the flavor of all three is pretty distinct.

Stephanie, I think that's a tough question to answer. I mean, the recipe instructions are wonderfully detailed, there is no doubt that anyone who puts in the time to read through them will be able to make the dishes successfully. But as Dorie mentions above, this is a very "personal" book. It's not a big-picture overview of French Cuisine, or any sort of attempt to teach you the basics of the French kitchen. It's a recipe collection from an accomplished cook and cookbook author living in France.

We do need to realize I think, that the challenge as presented to the TV audience is not necessarily reflective of the actual rules that the contestants are given. They film the little TV intro bit, and then they have what is apparently a quite lengthy Q&A/legal chat about what the precise rules of the challenge are, so that everyone is on the same page. Of course, that is not getting aired, we the TV audience are told the challenge is "make astronaut food," while what the contestants are told is "make food inspired by what astronauts might hypothetically want to eat." So this really isn't contestants "ignoring the challenge" it's really just the Magical Elves distorting the rules for the audience.

So anonymity is lost after the restaurant has any power to change the meal or your impressions by "pulling out all the stops." Why cares if you are anonymous as you walk out the door? A much bigger issue is the inherent bias in reviewing a meal you got for free.

Interesting, that's not at all true where I live. The only buttermilk I have access to is low-fat, 1% I believe. I've never seen a "whole milk" buttermilk.

Now that we've finally got the book in our hands, I've started up a Cooking with Dorie Greenspan's "Around my French Table" topic to discuss the details of actually making the recipes.

Over in this topic we're discussing this book in general terms. But now that the book has arrived, it's time to start cooking. I had a hard time deciding which recipes to start with, but since the book arrived mid-week I was a little limited in terms of what ingredients I had on hand. Boneless, skinless chicken breasts? Check. Potatoes? Check. OK then... Chicken Breasts Diable (p. 217) Broth-Braised Potatoes (p. 358) As is typical with Greenspan's books, the text of the recipe is well-written, very clear, and generally feels like you've got Dorie there looking over your shoulder giving you pointers the whole time. The recipe fits well into a book that bills itself as "more than 300 recipes from my home to yours"—I don't think that a dish such as this would be out of place on anyone's weeknight dinner table. We're not breaking new culinary ground here: it's boneless, skinless chicken breasts, served with a white wine pan sauce. The ingredients list is delightfully vague: three tablespoons mustard ("or a bit more"), "about one tablespoon olive oil," etc. This is a dish to make and tweak to your tastes: don't bother getting out the scale. Hell, I didn't bother with measuring spoons. So, it's hard to comment on the end result: my wife and I really liked both the chicken and potatoes. Earth-shattering new flavor combinations? No. But a very good rendition of a classic, tweaked to be just the way I like it. Bon appetit, indeed!

Ah, very interesting, good point. Wet (cured) cement loses the mustiness, but retains a sharper mineral characteristic (to my nose; if my neighbors didn't think I was weird before, they are dead sure now). I'm still not 100% sold on the comparison, but it's much closer, and presumably DDG has a better sense of smell than I do...

I was jut having a discussion with a couple friends about the words people use to describe the smell and taste of spirits. One of them mentioned "wet cement" as Dale Degroff's descriptor for tequila. That didn't really make sense to me, so I went and pulled a bottle of 1800 blanco off the shelf and gave it a sniff: I got nothin'. So I mixed up a batch of cement: no, definitely nothin'. While the cement has a funky mustiness (perhaps the actual defining "mustiness"), it was very different from the kind of funk in the tequila. And the cement has a sort of soft minerality to it, where I think the tequila is much brighter. So: I don't get that one. Maybe my Quickrete has gone off... Any other "interesting" descriptors floating out there? Do they make sense to you?

Still a powder, at least the Kraft Dinner version. They make other kinds where it comes with the goop pre-reconstituted.

I agree with this assessment: my argument is that's not such a bad thing. I really enjoy seeing how Bayless takes a traditional Mexican approach, or ingredient, or dish, and twists it around into something "contemporary." As far as I am concerned, Kennedy "wrote the book" on traditional Mexican cuisine. Once you've documented it, there is limited new ground to tread, so I welcome the innovation in OPT. Of course, I'm also waiting impatiently for the English translation of DK's Oaxaca!

That doesn't really sound like a defect with the overall French Door design, syoung68, more like your particular fridge is broken. I take it it's no longer under warranty?

Modernist Cuisine gives me hope for the future of high-end home cooking as a hobby. The rest? Is that lineup any different than the bestsellers ever are? And remember, most people buying those cookbooks will never cook anything out of them anyway. Most Americans don't cook regularly, or they think that cooking means adding extra cheese to the top of their frozen lasagna. But by the same token, most Americans don't make their own clothes, or build their own furniture, or fix their own cars. Those of us here enjoy cooking, but many don't. I don't see a problem with that.

Roasting gives a very different result, provided you cut up the potatoes before roasting: it's not so much the texture of the interior of the potato, as that the surface is smoother and less porous, so you wind up with much less "sauce" (be in mayonnaise or some other concoction). I personally prefer that, the flavor of the potato comes through more in the lightly-dressed version, and it resists the gloppiness that I find characterizes the more traditional approach of boiling.

I've really, really enjoyed cooking through the book, but that is as much a function of the book as a whole body of work as it is any individual recipe. It's really broadened my perceptions about Mexican flavor profiles, and introduced me to a number of dishes I never would have even thought of making if I hadn't been trying to cook so much from it. Frankly, I still think that Mexico: One Plate at a Time would be a better choice for even that purpose, with its careful and well-thought-out blend of "Traditional" and "Contemporary" dishes (all of which are labeled as such). Although I treated Fiesta at Rick's as a general-purpose cookbook, it really probably is more useful if you actually intend to have a party based on the food in it, and is especially useful if you need a little hand-holding during the party-planning phase. I don't think Bayless intended it as a general-purpose Mexican cookbook, and I don't think it functions particularly well as one.

Toasted Almond Guacamole with Apricots (p. 33) This guacamole was reminiscent of the pepitas guac in that the almonds are in the form of almond butter, not actual slices of almond (for the most part: there is an optional almond slice garnish). But the almond flavor was subtle enough not to take over the whole dish, unlike the pepitas, so I felt this was more successful. On the downside, I didn't really like the texture or the flavor of the apricots in this application. I made this guacamole twice, once with the apricots, and once with onion instead, and I think the onion version was clearly superior, at least to my palate.

I've got a normal-sized fridge with a freezer on the bottom and I like it. I use the fridge way more than the freezer, so I don't mind bending down to get to the freezer. And my freezer compartment has a drawer in the bottom half and a shelf/ice maker in the top half. I think the drawer makes food way more accessible than the more traditional top freezer layout. Of course, mine is mostly just full of bagged stuff, which is basically what the drawer is optimized for.

Right, what Dave said. I have an (outdoor) wok burner that puts out 65k BTU: it makes even high-end residential ranges look truly pathetic, and it is still inadequate for more than small batches of stir frying. In my opinion having a "wok burner" on a stove fed by a residential gas line is impossible. Instead what you get is a pretty flamey thing good for impressing your friends, and not much else.