maggiethecat

A mentor to many, an innovator, and one swell guy. It's not sunk in yet. My heart goes out to Ellen, PJ and his family and friends.

I don't wish to present myself as a no-brain Luddite though I might be. The magic seasoning ingredient is bacon fat, really. Cast iron, preseasoned or raw , can be stick free if you cook two batches of bacon and clean it gently -- no steel wool.

The whole concept is flawed. Nigella (too skinny) is the least self-serving celeb on the show. I'm embarrassed for Bourdain, who seems to have officially sold out. (I'm sure he has his reasons.) Ludo is a caricature of the jerk French chef, and I regret that I don't know who Malarkey is. The show is trashy and cynical. I enjoyed it a lot.

Oh jeez, folks, there's only one answer: frikken' KALE.

OTOH.....

Chuck Williams brought me to my knees, oh, fifteen(?) years ago with his giveaways of the white chocolate peppermint bark. After spending too much for too little I learned to make my own. The prices are a joke, a third of the products are a joke. What W-S is good for is a half hour walk through on the weekend, just for fun. And truth to tell, back in the day I'd buy a tablecloth from the sale table in the back. I'm not sure the biz model is working out. Two W-S stores in my lovely GOP neighborhood suburbs have gone belly up.

Man oh man oh Manitoulin! Thanks, Ladies: I always consider your posts from the island as a holiday. (Well, for me, not for you.) I think I can say without fear of contradiction, that you are eating better than any other two people on the island. Love the Lardy cake.

I really like Sarabeth's preserves, though I refuse to pay Williams-Sonoma prices for them. A Homestyle, if you have one near you, is the absolutely best retailer if you want great jams/preserves that don't cost fourteen bucks a jar.They have a terrific variety for about half the regular retail value.

At gunpoint. My mother served cottage cheese for lunch three times a week, and I swore that when I was all grown up I'd never eat it again.I haven't. Carry on.

I learned about the perils of Barefoot in the Kitchen, oh, lemme think -- jelly shoes, my daughter was in middle school. Late eighties? I dropped an empty gallon glass jug of Gallo Paisano on my bare foot. The bottle didn't break, but all five toes on my right foot did. I wore flip flops to work, in a business dress code firm, for two months. Lesson learned. I can buy better wine now, and I'd as soon go into the kitchen barefoot as date Charlie Sheen.

Oh, and I ate at Puck's Vert some years ago and it was just brilliant.

I think Rick Bayless hasn't missed a beat, but he has, like, maybe, four restaurants. I get great reviews from friends and critics alike. High, high quality.

Good Lord, "Bastard eggs?" That's the only way fried eggs were ever cooked in my parents' house, and in mine. If I can't baste fried eggs in bacon fat I don't make fried eggs. My feelings about fried eggs, in a thousand words or so, can be found Here. In a diner, I'm as over easy kinda gal.

Thank you. Unless you're in a production pastry kitchen or Desperately Seeking Nathan, a generic kitchen scale , cup measures and a set of measuring spoons work just fine.

That's brilliant, Linda, though I'm dateless and will swap in some dried apricots. I have everything else. Guess what I'll be doing about 11:00 CST?