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maggiethecat

eGullet Society staff emeritus
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Posts posted by maggiethecat

  1. 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.

  2. 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.

  3. 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.

  4. I remember a family care giver waxing euphoric over the bastard eggs her mother used to make. Whaaaat? Yeah, she says, they were fried eggs but she used to spoon the fat over them to lightly cook the tops. :blink:

    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.

  5. The truth is it doesn't matter all that much most most things as long as you are in the ball park, measuring spoons are plenty accurate for home cooking. When you start doing things in quantity production OTOH..

    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.

  6. This thread has me hounding my own cupboards. This is the most recent:

    Fry thin apple slices in butter until cooked through. Throw in a couple of chopped dates and a handful of walnuts.

    Get this hot and then stir in a tablespoon of maple syrup.

    Serve with or without a dollop of yogurt or ice cream, if you have it.

    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?

  7. I love rice pudding and my husband hates it, so it it qualifies as a terrific candidate for a late night desperation dessert. The time frame, not so much. So I thought hmmmmm, maybe a microwaved rice pudding? Sigh, I did some checking and it appears that making rice pud in the micro takes forty-five minutes.

  8. Just a beautiful blog -- transporting. To think of being able to drive to Tyre: it blows my mind. Thanks for breaking down all the history, ethnicity and flavors of one of my favorite cuisines.

    (One of my dorm mates at McGill was the daughter of the former American ambassador to Turkey, and she had the full Turkish coffee setup in her room. Perhaps it's because I don't like sweet coffee, but it put me off Turkish coffee for life.)

    Growing up in, of all places, Trois-Rivieres, Quebec, half my friends were Lebanese Canadian -- all those Baraketts and Aboubs and their mothers' exotic cooking.

  9. Bananas Foster! What a great idea, except I buy bananas about four times a year. Maybe I'll pick some up tomorrow.

    Late night S'Mores update. I went to Walgreens to buy some lady items and threw a Hershey bar into the cart. I hit the grocery store across the street and picked up graham crackers and marshmallows, among other stuff. The fifteen- year- old bagger said "Where's the chocolate bar, Ma'am?" (Midwestern teens are polite like that.) I laughed and told him it was in the car.

    I blew the technique, and my gas burner will perfume the kitchen for weeks as the blackened marshmallows burn off. Next time I'll use a candle to accomplish the toasting. But you know? Blackened and all, they hit the spot while I was watching a Downton Abbey rerun. The fragrance took me back to summer camp on Lake Massawippi.

  10. I'm with Beebs. A spoonful of Nutella, even if I'm not desperate. If I'm feeling particularly energetic, I'll take another spoonful of homemade peanut butter. Nutella. PB. Rinse (with milk). Repeat.

    EDA: This is my 2,000th post!

    Congrats, Alex, I've enjoyed every one of them. I've never really liked peanut butter but I agree that with a Nutella chaser I might be persuaded.

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