kayb

He lost me with his opening sentence: "It has always been crucial to the gourmet’s pleasure that he eat in ways the mainstream cannot afford." In my book, what is crucial to the gourmet's pleasure is good, fresh ingredients, well-prepared, with a creative twist that takes a dish out of the realm of the ordinary into the sublime. Cost has little, if anything, to do with it. Last summer, I cooked Kim Shook's sauteed corn with shrimp and tarragon for lunch for myself and three friends; as best I recall, the ingredients cost me something under $10, and my guests raved about a dish that was so unusual, so out-of-the-box, so good. (Thanks, Kim!) Now, while I realize $2.50 for a meal is outside the financial reach of many of the world's citizens....so is access to the Atlantic Monthly.

Wonderful views....will look forward to your culinary tour this week!

We had another six-inch snow -- I know, that's nothing to you Yankees, but two six-inch snows in a single winter -- two weeks apart, yet, with a four-incher in between -- is UNHEARD of down here -- so I've spent a couple of days doing some cooking. Shrimp and grits, recycling cocktail shrimp I brought home from a reception. To avoid overcooking and rubbery shrimp, I made my sauce, turned it down very low, and just put the shrimp in long enough to warm up. Tonight, a pissaladiere, sort-of (no anchovies) wirh Tuscan white bean soup, sans greens, because, well, I don't like greens.

I recently retired my Melitta. I use my Bodum French press exclusively now. It makes two mugs' worth. One goes in my big insulated mug, the other in a thermos for later consumption. I use a travel french press, the plastic variety, at work, heating the water in the microwave, grinding the beans each morning before I go in. It doesn't strain out the grounds as well as I'd like, so I pour my coffee through a paper towel into my work mug. I use a blend from the local gourmet store, which is a branch of Surfas. Not a real pricy coffee -- I think it's $10.75 a pound -- but a good, full, rich flavor.

I often bring leftover soup, which is generally a hit, or homemade bread if I have an overabundance. Sometimes I'll make quiche for Friday morning staff meetings. We have one office mate who makes unGodly wonderful pies and cheesecakes, another who does good dips and cheese spreads. Our favorite, though, is at Christmas, where one of our members who is Greek brings in homemade baklava. Dear God. It's to die for.

Two entries for the "best ever" category -- the New Orleanse "debris" sandwich, trimmings and such from roast beef, dumped back in the gravy or jus, spooned out onto a Leidenheimer roll. And then the Roast Beef Po'Boy at Uncle John's restaurant in Crawfordsville, Arkansas, one of the two retail establishments in that town of about 400 people. It's thinly sliced roast beef, layered thickly on a roll, and topped with marinara sauce. Damn, it's good.

A recent Weeknight Kitchen newsletter from the Splendid Table proffered, along with some forgettable main dish, the easiest coconut macaroon recipe I've ever seen. I've filed the recipe and lost the column from which it came, but I've committed it to memory, as it is my very favorite cookie in the whole world now. And it's easy enough to make any time I have the macaroon urge. 3 cups dried, sweetened coconut 2 eggs 1 tsp almond extract (Lynne called for vanilla, but I prefer almond) 1/2 cup sugar Beat eggs with almond extract. Add sugar. Stir into coconut until the coconut is well moistened. Make "haystacks" on a parchment-covered baking sheet, and bake at 350 (which is probably 375 in a normal oven) for about 20 minutes, until golden brown. The recipe makes about 20, which is good, because that means 20 is all I'll eat.

Lightening for the mixer or the husband? That was my question as well. A saw? Seriously? What portion of the mixer did he think it could function without? All things considered, I believe I'd much prefer having a Kitchenaid to a husband.

Dove, the breast portion only. Parboiled in salted water, then wrapped in bacon and grilled. Preferably on the first Saturday in September, the opening day of dove season, and accompanied by potato salad, baked beans and coleslaw, and catfish. (Why catfish? In case the hunters didn't have a good morning.) I have helped clean upwards of 500 dove between 9 a.m. and 11 a.m. after a big hunt. You can do wild duck breast the same way, but I prefer to lightly dredge mine in flour, pan-fry to golden brown, then pour red wine halfway up the side of the breasts and simmer until it's gone; then I add beef or veal broth and simmer another few minutes. I remove the breasts, add dried cherries, reduce, and serve as a pan sauce.

I generally buy double-yolked eggs, as I'm fortunate enough not to have any cholesterol problems and I love the taste of egg yolk. Those babies are BIG -- bigger than a jumbo from the store, though they're sold at the farm-supply place as extra large. (They can't sell them as double-yolked, because sometimes there'll be a single-yolker that gets through.) In any event, I generally use them just like they were large, and enjoy the extra egginess they impart. When I can find them, I love bantam eggs to hard-boil and use in Scotch eggs.

Well, I cancelled my planned tests tomorrow, so I could eat today. (Not really; it was supposed to snow, and my child is due to give birth any minute, so I judged I'd best be ready to jump and run when summoned.) So I made coconut macaroons, and amaretti, and baby new potatos topped wtih creme fraiche and caviar. It's a wonderful thing when you're watching the Super Bowl alone. Except for the dawg, who, as it turns out, loves potatos with creme fraiche and caviar.

Jaymes -- I saved your stifado recipe to try. What kind of vinegar do you use?

A fascinating week, Erin. Thank you!

I'm some of both. I've had some horrible experiences shooting from the hip, as well as some good ones. I have my standards that I can make in my sleep, for which I never consult a recipe, and often vary by changing out the protein or the spice or whatever. Then I have things I try from a recipe, and note to myself (with a post-it on the cookbook page) that next time I want to try it using x instead of y. Sometimes I make substitutions I know will work -- I can sub beef chuck for short ribs, or vice versa. And when I bake -- a fair amount in the winter, little if any in the summer -- I follow recipes religiously. I do find that what often happens is that I wind up reading past some critical piece of the instructions and getting the assembly portion wrong...which is OK in some cases, not so much in others. My from-the-hip on weeknights has been modified a bit since I've gotten in the habit of cooking on the weekend with an eye toward repurposing the leftovers in something else later on in the week. So I generally have something of a menu plan.

Sigh. In some of the poorest schedule management I've ever managed, I scheduled a minor medical procedure for Monday morning. So while watching the Super Bowl, I will be drinking consomme and chicken broth. NOT a good move on my part.

Andiesenji, great idea on the sausage patties. I will be trying that. Today, because it looked like this outside my window: I decided I needed this: Steel cut oats, with butter and brown sugar. My first time to try steel-cut oats; I'd always just eaten the regular Quaker variety. BIG difference! I'm a convert. Oh, and then I finished up with this: and a cup of French press coffee. I think I'm about ready to go out and brave the frozen South.

Sweet potato ravioli, boiled, then fried in sage brown butter, topped with grated Manchego that had been tossed with a teaspoon of pimenton dulce: And up close: Tonight, quesadillas with coffee-ancho braised beef: In fact, a whole plate-full of them, which will make lunches next week:

I'll put in my nickel's worth for carbonnades a la flamande. I first made mine with Newcastle, loved it, so that's what I use. Caramelize a boatload of onions (about four); set them aside and brown the beef, which you've salted, peppered and dredged in flour. Add the onions back, pour in a bottle of your beer o'choice and add a cup or so of beef stock. Or forget the beef stock and use all beer. Clap on the lid and braise, really low, for 3 or 4 hours. Stir in a tablespoon of brown sugar and a tablespoon of spicy brown mustard. It's good over buttered egg noodles, but transcendent over spaetzle.

Slicing anything on my mandoline.

Following avidly, and thoroughly enjoying this taste of a culture of which I know so very little. Also intrigued by the potatos in caramel....

Butternut squash galette. Bottom layer was ricotta blended with roasted garlic. Then the squash, sprinkled with pimenton dulce; then grated sheeps milk cheese. If I do it again, it'll be with something other than garlic in the ricotta. The garlic did not play well with the other flavors, IMHO. Redeeming myself for the weekend, though, here's Guinness Whole Wheat Bread. Good stuff. That's bread that will stay with you all day.

Agreed, Shelby. I do not see how you keep from weighing 450 pounds. Marrow, steak and scalloped potatos....SWOON!

Fascinating! I am highly impressed with your kitchen, and your abiity to turn out wonderful meals in a tiny space. It's even smaller than mine, which is in turn smaller than any of the three from last week's NYC trio blog. What took you to Asia?

My mama's wooden spoons. She used to spank me with those things, and then go back to cooking. I'd have food-colored splats on my rear end.

They are, indeed. It's just that this one reminded me of bread pudding as far as its consistency.