maggiethecat

De gusitbus! I think fine parfumerie can be an art akin to music, producing something lovely and ineffable. On any given day I'd be "slightly annoying to completely obnoxious." Lots of people mention that I smell good. I received as a Mother's Day gift from my daughter "Perfumes: The Guide" by Luca Turin and Tania Sanchez, which is one the the five best non-fiction books I've read this year. Like many of you I adored the natural vapors at Alinea, but am bemused at using commercial fragrance in cooking. Maybe Luca Turin has part of the reason here: "Note that the essential oil extracted [from botanicals] does not replicate the composition of the fragrant air above [my itals] the flower. In other words, rose oil does not smell like a rose. A technique called 'headspace' or 'living flower' attempts to remedy this discrepancy by analyzing the air above the flowers and replicating the mix with synthetics, with occasionally impressive results." A steaming pillow at a temple of gastronomy produces the fragrant air, doesn't replicate it. Nonetheless, this topic is intriguing and I'm longing to hear about everyone's experiments. I'll be thinking hard. Now, because it's really hot and too early for a gin and tonic with a twist of lime, I'm going to walk through a cloud of Guerlain's Cologne Imperiale. Yum. "Lime and lime flower notes."

Molasses, spice and bacon fat -- a delectable thrifty Caledonian triple play.As to the derivation? Dunno, just guessing. Archibald and Archie are true wha hae Scots names, ans if you ate too many of these cookies you'd be a Fat Archie? (Not a sociologist,)

Yes, Anita Stewart was her name, and I'd better get the book too. She did compare the Fat Archie to the Whoopie Pie, but mentioned a couple of spicy differences, and said the butter spreading thing was unique to NS -- like the swell name.

Ah hah! I think that molasses cookie might be a Nova Scotia specialty called a Fat Archie. It so happens that I spent a lot of time in the last few weeks driving on the 401, 401, 416, 417 and 40, and spent Q time with CBC1. There's a new regional Canadian regional cookbook out (can't remember the author) and she referred to a NS puffy molasses cookie as a Fat Archie. (She also said they were often spread with butter. Have you ever heard this cookie referred to as a Fat Archie? ←

Note the expression of teenager culinary bliss on my nephew Miles's face, as he chowed down on the chorizo lollipops we made for a family party. (The lovely woman in the picture is my sister-in-law.) This was snapped before the other guests arrived, and we had to cut Miles off lest the platter be empty when other peeps showed up. I don't know where we saw the recipe -- a tapas cookbook? -- but these lollipops went fast. Cook chorizo. Cut into discs. Caramelize sugar, insert toothpick in sausage, dip. The caramel should be golden when you begin to dip -- it darkens. And watch your hands! Even a tiny drop of molten sugar hurts like hell. Swoonworthy.

Canada is indeed a big, big country and I applaud your decision to delve into all the regional forums, because Canadian cuisine is regional -- except for Tim Horton's! The berries that are the glory of the Ontario June should be coming in soon. I'd plan a quick trip to Kitchener-Waterloo -- handy from London -- to check out the Amish /Mennonite farmer's market. It's regional and distinctive.

I agree with Steven -- President is OK. If there's a Trader Joe's near you, check out the Brie there.

I have reservations at Alinea at the end of August. Much as I'd love to do The Tour, I doubt my stomache capacity could handle it so will probably order the smaller meal. However, I've seen the Truffle Explosion mentioned as Chef G's masterpiece from his previous restaurant (is it the same dish on the Tour?) and wonder if it would be possible to get it in place of something on the smaller meal? Does anyone know if they do things like that at Alinea? ← You know your capacity best, but I arose from the table appetite satisfied, but not uncomfortable or stuffed. Each jewel-like course is small.

Yes, we want every culinary cliff-hanging minute. (If your photography's a quarter as good as your writing, we are in for a fair treat!)

I have nothing to contribute about pastrychefdom in the restaurant world. Many women can work the line like guys,I understand. And , many men prefer the "cool and calm" of pastry. I suspect that women pastry chefs were turned on to baking cupcakes and brownies when they were under ten years old, while their brothers were obsessed with balls: big, small, hard soft and ovoid. What's bred in the bone ...

Count your blessings! Ricotta and ready-cooked leeks sound delicious. If you want to add a meaty note, throw in a little ground veal or ground pork, and vigorous nutmeg.Keep the meat component small but select. Fresh thyme, basil or rosemary will point up the flavors.

That's what I was expecting too -- yours is serious pickle cheating. Your method reads like Grand Theft Pickle. Trust me, I believe you when you say they taste wonderful, and I'm up for any culinary frippery short of Sandra Lee. You have me intrigued here.I'll show this to the Pickle Poobah in the house. (Not me.)

Gosh, I've been following this topic for five years (thanks, Ronnie!) and I haven't eaten there yet. Well, my birthday is in three weeks. Congratulations, Chef Carrie. I love what I found on your website: "In addition to gourmet cuisine, Naha prides itself as a restaurant with personality, style and warmth. "It's not an anonymous restaurant," Nahabedian says. "There is a reason why people come back two and three times a week, they are comfortable." Comfortable. Lovely.

Thanks to Grant Achatz for the greatest restaurant meal of my life at Alinea last fall. And congratulations on the honor tonight. Of course, for all us foodie athiests who've been sending prayers your way, your recovery might make us believers. Bravo.

Interesting question, and oddly, it gave me a chance for reminiscence. I'd like to relive some of the food I've eaten in my life with the same innocence and pleasure as when I first tasted them -- when they were plentiful and my palate was young. My first plate of Malpecques, that petit filet at La Rose de France on the Ile de France when I was nineteen. Restigouche salmon from that enchanted summer when we lived in New Brunswick. The creamy cheese and spring pea pizza at the tiny trattoria in Viareggio. But nostalgia is mostly negative and sad. I came up with these, and they involve time or distance travel. A limitless bowl of Beluga or Osetra, blinis, vodka and lots of cloisonné and mother of pearl in St. Petersburg. A crawdad boil in the Delta. A Tournedos Rossini prepared by the 'Scoff himself, corsets and diamonds for me and black tie for my gentleman companion.. This egg sandwich my daughter and son-in-law ate on the sidewalk in Hanoi a month or so ago. It was served on a baguette: "The best damn egg sandwich I've ever eaten."

schnitzel: Yes, I configured the meatloaf to specs, give or take a half inch.

That milk braised pork recipe from Marcella is indeed awesome.It's a staple in our pork repertoire.Loin's lean, but this is an example of what you can do with a lean loin. Yeah, I've eaten it st right from the fridge. Huge yum.

"Daily Gullet's" own Ivy Knight wrote a cool, Canadian chef-centric piece for Society member Malcolm Jolley's mostly-Toronto food website gremolata.com.. Another recounting of cooking for a Beard event, but it's really Ivy. Enjoy the backstage camaraderie and drama, and rub elbows with some of Canada's top chefs. As Ivy says about being a cook rather than a diner at a Beard event is "The kitchen may be hot and stressful and your uniform may be splattered with lobster juice but, for me, it's a hell of a lot more fun than having to sit with the adults.". (Ivy dear, your first graf or two might raise some Yankee hackles! :-)

Abra, thanks for doing the background check. I should have made a point in my original post that freerice is on the up and up -- I too vetted it the first time I played.

OK, I've always wanted to live in the mountains, have herds of sheep, virgins to milk them, wear a smock and make cheese. I live on the prairie, own two cats, was lost to shame years ago, wear black and pearls and want to make cheese. I made cheese today, first class dry ricotta from the Julia Moskin recipe in yesterday's "New York Times." Here it is.It requires just plain old milk and buttermilk, and a yard of cheesecloth. Have your thermometer and wooden spoon handy. And prepare to giggle and coo in Italian --the curds rise, the whey separates and you're a cheesemaker. How cool is that?

I got turned onto www.freerice.com a couple of months ago, and I spend a half hour playing the game most every day. It's a vocabulary quiz that's mildly addictive, especially for word nerds like me. Every time you get an answer right, the UN will contribute twenty grains of rice.There's a cool graphic thing that shows you what your contribution looks like in a rice bowl. and trust me, you'll get competitive with your verbal self: miss the definition twice, and you'll remember it the third time! The eGullet Society is itself a culinary charity, I hasten to add, having awarded $60,000 in scholarships in the past three years. So another way of contributing is to donate to the Society. After that, if your mouse finger is still itchy, have another go at FreeRice. And tell us what your favorite way of giving is. Fifteen minutes a day, peeps. If we all have fun it's a whole lotta rice.

Yes! Cleaning muffin pans, popover pans or tiny fluted barquette molds can make me wonder if the edible product was really worth it.

You know that stretch of Van Buren under the El, which still has the western wear shop, the seedy storefronts, “Chinese” restaurants? Back in the day, the burlesque dives, and ---imagine-- the only porn delivery system: the bookstore. Once upon a time there was a subterranean oyster bar at the corner of State and Van Buren. In the late sixties a guy shucked oysters after midnight, the décor was murky, and the lighting level made the clientèle unreadable. Does anyone else remember this place? Chicago is not lousy with oyster bars, and it was a dreamlike place, a manga place. Dark, everything else was closed, no Hard Rock Cafes or Popeye's or McDonald's. Four dozen fresh shucked oysters, four beers, ten bucks. Unlike the other genuine subterranean Chicago joint, the Billy Goat, it wasn’t populated with journalists and printers from the Trib and Sun Times who’d put their papers to bed. The clientèle were elevator repair men, hotel workers, newsstand operators, cab drivers, strippers, and seafood lovers who kept late hours. Some sketchy folks. Does anyone else remember this place and put a name to it? I’d be happy just to get validation that it existed.

So many memories -- like your very first avatar! You have contributed to the Society in so many ways for such a long time, while juggling family and personal responsibilities. Enjoy your "retirement," Miss Susan, and enjoy the summer at The Cabin.

That was the only one I actually knew with certainty. I had one of those when I was little (and I miss it!) ← 15/20. (I own a Georgian sterling set, and no kiddie to use it!)