maggiethecat

Here's the place to preen.

At one of those mushy-headed workshops at work ten years ago about team building, self-esteem or whatever the catchphrase of the year was that year, some “facilitator” like Greg Kinnear in Little Miss Sunshine asked us to write down three things that would make us feel complete before we died. We were admonished to avoid things like “end world hunger” or “I want a grandchild” – we were to be as selfish and self absorbed as possible. My scribbles, smacked down eating stale Danish were: 1) I want to christen an ocean liner, wearing a staggeringly expensive hat. 2) I want a rose named after me. 3) I want a dish named after me, and pizza Margherita doesn’t count, much as I love it. Naming a dish after a sleb is, of course, nothing new, from Sauce Bechamel through Peches Melba. If Vatel, Ranhofer or the ‘Scoff were to create in your honor, of what would it be composed? How would you represent? Man, its tough! I’d want pork, fried, sauce, mashed potatoes, asparagus tips, raw Malpeques and quenelles of pike. Your task is to do better than I. Describe the dish that would be your signature, with garnish, plating, even pix. Tell us why it’s all about you. The deadline is June 15th. The three top egomaniacs and wittiest writers will earn their place in the sun at Daily Gullet . Numero uno will win a cookbook. Please don’t post your replies on this topic. Put them here.

Wow, that's impressive materiel, Chris. Congratulations on your new Love Object! If we made sausage more than six times a years that booty would be mine, The temp thing is truly impressive.

I think that many of us are considering the issues you bring up here, and handling them in our own ways. I can't see a perfect solution except maybe if you have 10 rural acres in the Napa Valley where you can grow olives, grapes for wine, chickens, pigs and free range bunnies. And lots of vegetables and fruit. Ain't a happening thing where I live. The last freeze date is May 31st -- I thought that was nuts until I planted out my garden earlier a few years ago and got a snowstorm on May 23rd or thereabouts. The Heartland's food is gorgeous, but it's short season stuff, and my real estate covenant prevents me from having my own hen house, something I long for. I tip my turban to Laura Ingall Wilder's mother, but even she hit the general store when she could. Coffee and tea don't grow in Wisconsin or Nebraska. To your point about variety (and I still cook often from that Time-Life series!) I'm not giving up on goulash because paprika doesn't grow around here. No curry because I can't grow turmeric -- shut up! ;-) Give up oolong or Arabica.? Never. And I think of how much of the exploration of the world happened because people wanted spices, or chocolate or tomatoes. It's difficult. I believe in buying locally, planting a garden, doing everything we can to prevent overfishing. But if I didn't have oyster sauce in my fridge right now, my dinner would be sadder.

Blackballs, three for five cents. There was a black licorice flavored coating and a multicolored marbled interior. They made your tongue turn black, and I loved them.

As the owner of two Abys now passed on to their shrimp-eating, corn on the cob loving reward I can guarantee that they'll make you nuts in the best way ever. And don't worry about the price of cat food -- Abys are picky eaters and you'll be steaming them tilapia and chopping tenderloin tartare for them within a few months. My husband dropped a honeymoon era Copco oval enameled cast iron braiser a few days ago.One handle broke off. I was inconsolable. I still am. I hate Le Creuset for their stupid prices and their faulty knobs, but I'm going to spend some money on a replacement. Crap.

In my Nana's English kitchen a teacake was basically a round scone, and if you check out the recipes in this article they're pretty scone-like. Not quite a biscuit -- sweeter and richer. And always split with butter and preserves.

Slip them a Sidecar. They'll remember them from their misspent youths, with a closet full of formals for going out dancing. (I'm channeling my beloved MIL here.) Or a mimosa-style drink using mango puree. I'm sure this has a real name, but in our house it's a "Maggie's Toes Curling."

I lived through it too, nakji, and I share your fish-eating guilt. We've sullied our fresh water lakes and rivers and overfished our oceans. Our greed is swimming back to haunt us. The article in the Times has a great interactive map -- click away and see what we have to eat to keep alive. I'll volunteer for everything.

157.314. Actually, 157, 315. I got the unabridged English translation of Escoffier's "The Complete Guide to the Art of Modern Cookery" today. (I'm exhausted, just turning over two pages.)

Many, many thanks, Chef Mitch. Finally: a reasoned informative explantion of lame work. I'm grateful.

Don't buy anything that isn't on sale, except for staples like eggs and milk. If spinach is on sale, eat spinach. If pork chops are on sale, it's the week to try some new pork chop recipes. If Parmesan is on sale, buy a big chunk to tide you over the weeks when it's mad expensive. And try to buy your food at stores where most of the clientele doesn't speak English.

Holy Smoley, I should think so. Fond as I am in reminiscence, there is no way Campbell's Scotch Broth is worth 4.29.

Geezo Pete! Since you posted this suggestion, I've been intrigued, and went to the MSL site to see the video wherein she shows the Sarah (not so) Brightman how to make them. I happened to have all the ingredients and an an hour on my hands, fresh sage from the garden, and with much trepidation, I made them. The "dough" seemed way too soft, and I expected these dumplings to fall apart in the boiling water. Har. Why should I doubt Martha? These were light, cheesy, spinachey. I used a few new techniques, had that cool suspense -- it wouldn't work, and -- it did! Don't be afraid, as I was, that the gnudi are too soft when you form them. Give them the flour dust, the refrigeration, and watch them bob from the bottom of the stock pot ready to be sauced. Mukki, U rock. Thanks.

Cafe society -- I long for it. Meeting your best girlfriend at Caribou just isn't the same. Ah, Mittel Europa. I'm going to bed with Smetena, Dvorak and Strauss as my sleepytime music. A very very beautiful blog.

Hey Maggie -- Just wanted to say, after reading your post I got Marcella Cucina out of the library, and just made that soup tonight... And you're right -- it was delicious! Amazingly rich given the no-stock and no spices... A real keeper :-) Thanks! ← You're so welcome, Emily! Yes, healthy, cheap, easy and tasty. I'll make it again in a couple of weeks. (I have the Easter ham bone taking up room in my freezer, so it's Senate Navy Bean as the soupe de la semaine this week.)

Eh, rice. We eat it a couple of times a week and have a few pounds each of arborio and basmati on hand. For two people, I think we're going to be fine. Carolina rice, which is our staple, hasn't moved much in price. On the Chicago segments of "All Things Considered" tonight there was a long piece about the near doubling of a twenty pound sack of rice over last year in Korean, Mexican and Thai markets. The merchants are cross because they're getting heat from customers with no increase in profit margins. One man told the Korean grocer: "Well, we'll eat more bread." As a bread baker , the increased prices of a five pound bag of flour rocks me back on my kitten heels. But I can afford it if I avoid the L'Occitaine website and the lure of Amazon. But the run on rice in the US troubles me: it seems like an artificial crisis. The shortage of rice in Asia -- catastrophic. And the rise of starvation worldwide: it actually keeps me awake nights. I'm sure other people will remember the picture on the front page of the New York Times last Sunday, showing a girl in Haiti picking for food on a dump. That's not shortage, that's starvation. This atheist prayed that night.

Here's the method, which was described in the link uptopic: Cut the handles and the bottom seam from each bag, roll the bag from side to side, then cut into 1 1/2 inch "tubes." Loop and knot them end to end to form the 2 ply "yarn." Yes, it's thick. I'm using an 8 mm. plastic hook. It's a fun project.

I listen hard when I'm cooking, and find the habit invaluable. If I have my back to the stove, I can still know when the water has reached a rolling boil, if the braise is cooking at too high heat, if the polenta is making that ploppy sound that indicates when it needs a stir. It's handy to know when a cat has made a soft landing on the counter and is heading for the butter sitting behind you!

sooo how is the bag coming along? ← It's about a foot long now, and is the final resting place of too many bags to count. It's amazingly tough -- when the Big One happens, all that will be left on earth are cockroaches and this strip of crochet. (I got new "yarn" today. Someone, not I, forgot to put the fabric bags in his car.)

Blogging must be incredibly exhausting! When I blogged in the dear dead days beyond recall, it was one sonnet a day, no pix, no pets no fridge, no nuthin'. You stayed the course, Kim, and let Mr. Kim know that we rarely eat here before ten. And oh ... your heavenly leftovers! A wonderful week.

Be well, Kim. What a lovely dinner, great pix and description.

That's the line that made me jealous. I love your Voice. And your bar.

Your recycled greenhouse is beautiful. I'm beyond jealous. Sigh: Here in northern Illinois I can't really get my hands dirty for a month or so.

In the embrace of your fellow eGulls there is never, ever too much information. (So you know) Your dins looked outstanding. YA alert: I really can't remember what Hannah Gruen cooked, but Nancy drove a snappy little roadster. Period. I read Anne-with-an-e once a year. Actually, I'm really fond of "Anne of the Island" where she goes off to college in 1910(!) and cooks along with her girlfriends. Does anyone member Louisa May Alcott's "Eight Cousins" and "Rose in Bloom" -- a brilliant proto feminist duo. Rose, an heiress, was told by her uncle she had to learn how to cook. Bread first, cake later. Burn marks on her wrists. I'm ordering pink and white striped wallpaper. Huge bummer about booze on Sundays. Do NOT get me started!