snowangel

It would have been at The Cabin. I arrived with four kids in tow, and inadvertently forgot the coffee (I did remember wine and vodka and whisky). There were two many year old packets of one-pot pre-ground hazelnut coffee packets laying around. I had to drink the alcohol to get rid of the lack-of-caffine-headaches. I really hate flavored coffee. It's far worse when it's really old. Lack of good coffee drove me across the lake to a phone (something I really hate to do) and get my husband up to said cabin a day early so I could have coffee. That's love.

Mangosteens. Sadly unavailable in Minneapolis.

Agreed on sandwiches, but certain foods like peaches and the butter on super fresh corn on the cob are meant to run down ones arms...

I heard a rumor that the sun even shines there But, we have an Ice Palace. So there!

Oh, Bacon! Bacon, oh bacon, the most luxurious of foods. How do I love thee, let me count the ways. You come to me all smoky and salty not wrapped in cryovac from the supermarket, but from the meat market wrapped in butcher paper, cut to specs. You never fail me. Fried crispy/squishy, eaten plain. Eaten as a bacon sandwich – bacon sandwiched between bacon. Call me a heretic, but I’ve also enjoyed you between slices of Acme levain, toasted, with mayo, lettuce and heirloom tomatoes. For breakfast (leave that rendered grease in the pan for fried eggs…a fresh egg fried in your renderings render me to a quivering pile.) What bite is first – the bacon or the egg; the bacon wins out every time. Alongside cinnamon rolls or sticky buns, your salty smokiness cuts the cloying sweetness. Perfection. Braised ala Zuni Café Cookbook. Double or triple the recipe and the cook is happy. Fried crisp, crumbled and incorporated into carbonara , armatriciana, in salads. I’ve learned to cook more than the dish needs because the cook’s needs are of a smoked and salty and porcine nature. And, oh, that fat you render. Too precious to toss, it goes into a special container. Toss you with Brussels sprouts prior to roasting. Or potatoes. Or carrots. Or for cooking popcorn. Or in salad dressings. Or a vehicle for mire poix. The remainders sprinkled over chowder, potato/leek soup. They are transformed from a soup into something voluptuous. Your rendered fat does a wonderful job of replacing melted butter in pancakes or waffles. Or in cornbread, muffins. You multi-task like no other food. Oh, and that aroma. No over-stove vent fan on for me while you are cooking. I inhale your every scent with lust, anticipating your taste, your essence. Only once was I betrayed, but a hostess who served brunch, and horrors of horrors, each guest was served but one, one lonely strip of generic bacon. My dismay! Bacon, my love affair with my husband goes back some almost 30 years. My love affair with you goes back to baby-hood. Bacon, oh bacon, how do I love thee? I cannot begin to count the ways.

AlexP, where in Minneapolis did you score fresh sardines?

Bruce, review this week? Or should I search and post for you? On another note, Igger's review of Burrito's in today's Strib really sort of pissed me off, for lack of a better word. To concentrate on the chains, and ignore the gems is not what I wanted to read. And, to laud Chipotle for serving sustainable meat products (Niman) in light of all of the other waste that McDonald's promotes really struck a nerve. I guess what really irked me was the final graph where he says "the tastiest burrito I found on this quest was in an unexpected location: the Taqueria Hacienda, one of the little food stalls located inside the Mercado Central..." Now, this does not surprise me, nor would it surprise most of my friends that one would find the best in a "street stall." And, he totally ignored El Burrito, a downtown Minneapolis institution (2 locations, and I think they have one or two in downtown St. Paul) that has been serving fabulous burritos to downtowner's long before Chipotle was a blip. End of rant.

BACON! (again)

Remember that is takes untold more effort to open dishawasher and insert dish than it does to merely leave it on the counter. Like a bazillion calories. Trust me, as mom of three (make that four if one counts The One I Married).

I received a National when we got married some 20+ years ago. It is still good to go, and used frequently. I do subscribe to the philosophy that the fewer the frills, the less to go wrong (my husband was an engineer in a former life).

Our house is on the market, and my kids and husband are calling me a dirt and dust nazi. New complaint. Me "Please clean off the counter after you've made your sandwich." Them: sweep crumbs onto the floor. Me: "do you think this is a self sweeping and mopping floor? Do you want this house to sell? Do you want that next house that is perfectly ideal that we really, really want? So, why don't you just sweep the effing crumbs into your hand and dump them into the trash?"

This gets me thinking, about 6 months too early, about an open faced sandwhich I haven't made in ages: one piece of toast, topped with cheese, topped with a tomato slice, topped with bacon not-quite-done and stuck under the broiler. But then again, I'm a real sucker for home-grown tomatos and BACON.

Many, many moons ago (mid-70's) when we lived in Bangkok, my mom and I went to look at the brand new Central Department Store. We decided to have lunch in their cafe. We ordered grilled cheese sandwiches, and that's just what we got. Not a cheese sandwich grilled, but rather a blob of cheese on a grill, scraped up and put on awful white bread. So, now, when we make them at home, I always call them cheese sandwiches, grilled. Butter on bread, cheese (sharp cheddar), on my trusty toastmaster griddle. Should be calling them cheese sandwiches, griddled, me thinks.

Ditto here. The gougeres were a big hit, too.

I'm not in Chicago, but I've had luck with Dunn Brothers (Minneapolis chain) selling me green beans. There is also an outfit here selling "peace coffee" (free trade, organic) that sells green beans. A lot of churches (UCC specifically) sell "peace coffee" here, so you might want to make a few calls to a local coffee place that roasts their own or check with a local church.

Is this just a tease for those of up in the Northern area of the Heartland? Sub-zero, feet of snow covering our gardens... I go to bed everynight with a seed catalogue or gardening magazine...

The jacket, amazingly enough, after extensive and careful blotting inside the pocket with paper towels and water, seems to be okay. I have worn it in some moderately warm weather and have not yet encountered any skunky funky spoiled dairy smell. Now the 16 oz whole milk latte that I spilled on the carpeted floor of my Toyota years ago.... different story. Never did entirely eliminate that odor. Try a vehicle sitting in the sun for 8 hours, said vehicle having three bags of trash, largely consisting of fish guts and dirty diapers. Only for the strong of stomach. We drove around in that vehicle for an entire winter (in Minnesota, no less) with windows open. But, that's a whole 'nother story.

My copy is currently on loan (to a trustworthy friend) but I love this cookbook. The Mock Porchetta is fab, and I make it for a meal, but more, for the leftovers in hash. Sublime. I've also made the savory cream puff with baon and argula appetizer which was an unbelievable hit (should have tripped recipe).

Interesting this comes up now. I have a lot of chicken feet (like 7 lbs.). I put a couple into some really weak chicken stock last night, and (with a few additions) came up with a most sublime and voluptuous chicken soup. What else can I do with them? Suppose I should pull out Wei Chuan and/or Pei Meil, but what do the EG experts have to say? They sort of gross out the rest of the family, but if they taste good, or are fun to eat, I can cajole them...

Now that Diana is a teenager, booze is in a small cupboard above a broom nook, sort of blocked by a Bose bookshelf speaker. Hard to get to, and too tall for her to reach easily. Life changes. Hopefully, they will all grow up and leave . Edited to add: Klink, beautiful. We will be up, post house sale, to check it (and contents) out, assuming that you can provide brisket or some other smoked something.

Yet another EG $ suck. I've never hankered for a LC before, but I'm drooling now. Think I'll stop at Marshall's on Thursday after yoga. They often have them at good discounts. Usually something wrong, like a little ding on the knob, or the cover and dish color's are of different dye lots.

Substitute bacon fat for the olive oil for a real treat

Avocado on sandwiches (they seem slimy in combo with bread). Eggs cooked that still have runny whites. Otherwise, I'll eat anything. My dislikes seem to be more textural than taste.

Bacon

Butt reports, please!