maggiethecat

Ooooh! Haven't done this yet but I will: slicing citrus fruit for marmelade.

The household model of your fab professional meat slicer. It's the "Waring Pro." Here it is: my slicer

Gawd, it's a beaut! Congratulations, Chris. We received "Happy in the Kitchen" for Christmas and bought a household model (on sale for 69.99) a month or so later. It sits on the counter and we use it every day -- oddly enough, less on meat than on other stuff. Lemme see: 1) We cut in half, horizontally, a slice of seven grain bread from Whole Foods that was just a little too thick for sandwiches. That was so cool. 2)All onions get sliced on it -- forget the knives or mandoline. It was a fabulous timesaver when I prepared a gallon of onion soup. 3)Slicing corn off the cob. 4) My frozen shortbread dough -- perfect uniformity in thickness. 5) It made short work of a couple of zukes when I made the neon pickles from "Zuni Cafe." 6)It's great for chiffonades of stuff like ieberg lettuce. 7)I'll never make coleslaw without it again. 8)Cheese and salami, natch. 9)The leftover corned beef last week was sliced paper-fine -- a gorgeous plump pillow of pink between two slices of rye. 10) On a night when nothing was defrosted we ran a small piece of frozen flank steak through the blade. It was just flat-out great: tasty and so thinly sliced it couldn't be tough -- and it seemed like more meat by volume than it actually was. 11) This is big, folks, and it's happening in real time. We are attempting a Chicago Italian Beef sandwich -- the lean, dull sirloin tip roast has been braising for hours. We're pretty sure that the slicer will make all the difference. I'll report tomorrow in the Cooking forum.

Trust me, perfection eludes me. And I agree that if kids sit in their seats and keep the volume down, they have kept their part of the restaurant pact. You've earned the frickin break . Perfection, I suppose, would be kids who discuss cosmology and parse the foie gras creme brulee. But why can't a dinner out be a magic thing, as it was for my Boomer confreres, whether it was admiring the white tablecloths at a steak joint or discussing the brain freeze from that tall tin milkshake jug. It's an opportunity to have fun, eat well, hang out as a family, and civilize. I guess that means being a parent. No argument from me here. I have no idea what Jeffrey Dahmer's, Hitler's or Atilla's table manners were. I doubt that behaving at restauarants pushed them over the edge.

Modern kids don't know jack about even household lunch and dinner. Are your kids eating breakfast in front of the television? Dinner? Are you making them special meals? Even a baby shouldn't have a special meal from Gerber or chicken fingers. They should sit around the dinner table and eat what their parents eat. Done. (f you have a playground or a big screen TV I would suggest that you encourage your children to ignore them.) Make a restaurant meal special and holy for your kids. A dinner is an orderly affair, a progression. If it's a beautiful room, talk about it with them. If its a diner, read the menu with them, and chat about their faves, and what they think about unfamiliar sides, like brains and grits. Make it about the occasion and the food. Maybe make it a dress-up deal. Your kid is not allowed to be a brat --you know better than that about anyone. Read and discuss the menu -- not the kid's menu. Maybe your sons will split a couple of plates. And tell them the kid's menu is crap and they can't order from it. That's why you're the parent.

My colorist is a great cook, and she told me what went over huge at the salon Christmas party: her chicken veg tortilla soup in a crockpot. Among the other offerings: cheap donuts, nasty supermarket layered dip, chip and dip, Target cupcakes -- her real soup disappeared early. Overworked holiday-time hairdressers instinctively knew what would sustain them. After the box of Krispy Kremes everyone appreciates real food. Apart from the ever-popular deviled eggs which are sui generis great, , the real purpose of a slow cooker is the company potluck -- I think I'll take a gallon of my minestrone next time, with fresh grated parm on the side It will taste good, even from the lunchroom styrofoam cups. Real food you can't buy from the machine in the lunchroom.

146,602. muichoi, I am not worthy.

I felt a kind of deja vue all over again when I read this topic and I finally figured out why. Hey Presto! Boy, that was a long time ago, and I still love this thing. It's our deep- fryer-for- two, and is no way underpowered for a tempura meal for a laid back couple. I have to confess I don't use its slow-cooker feature much, because I own a crock pot. But it still comes in handy as an extra utility pot for parties. It certainly takes up counterspace, but so does everything else. It's well: it's just fun.

I just checked my bottle of store-bought vanilla: Kirklands, which is Costco's house brand, It's clear. Penzeys, Watkins et all use a brown bottle, and I love the brown bottles. I got a B in chemistry in High School and have forgotten 98% of what I learned , but I suspect the brown bottle might be all about aesthetics, not science -- it's just browner. As I keep my vanilla in a dark cupboard, not on a windowsill, I don't think I'm going to worry about it.

It's fascinating that pizza performs as guilt-free junk ritual, and my household is no different. For decades we've started the dough late Sunday afternoon, thrown the pie together around six pm and turned on the TV for the first time in seven days to watch a DVD I've rented from the library. I don't think a well-chosen or well-made pizza is junk, of course. Maybe the traditional Friday morning Krispy Kremes at work are closer to the mark.

I'm beyond proud to call ronnie a friend. Wiith him, what you see is what you get: bon vivant, passionate cook, informed diner, family man, standup guy and Cubs fan. I'm looking forward to whatever you share with us on the forums going forward. (And thanks for the review of Custom House -- best meal out I've had forever.) (And Deadhead, of course!)

Right again, Brooksie, and thanks, Todd, for bringing this blog to our attention. Immaculate Planet -- brilliant. All those organic veggie yuppie townies who shop and cook for validation, not pleasure.

I agree. Why am I hearing something about where eagles fly? 145,289.

Whew. I didn't know that Lorna and Henry could do a down-home dinner rather than the usual crazy over -the top- gourmandise thay always display. I feel much less intimidated now. That's one lovely red velvet cake. How much red food coloring? Frosted with????

I made reference to this project being even more fun than a Chia Pet. Today was unseasonably warm, and as I checked the weed-choked garden for signs of life, I thought about my vanilla extract, dashed inside and agitated my jars. I am pleased to report that the liquid is darkening. My first thought was: spitoon juice -- remembering those nasty vessels from way back in the day when my father frequented a barbershop, not a salon. A prettier description is a light bourbon and water. And yes, the liquid in the jar with the split beans is slightly darker than the liquid in the cut and chunk jar.

Fabulous One: I'd use either of the products you mention for exactly the uses you proffer. Yes, they can be squished --I mentioned in my original post that I occasionally find virtue in their malleablity. No Wonder. Not ever. And, it's sweet.

Oh boy. Another crunchy crust elitist. I, somehow, expect so much more from you. Life is full of sudden disappointment. I should get used to it. ← Cheer up, Brooks -- I haven't disappointed you completely. I don't demand a crunchy crust -- in fact I mostly prefer a softer one . I merely prefer a real crumb.

All those expensive jarred Asian sauces. Sheesh.

Parker house rolls, overnight refridgerator rolls, pain de mie -- I love "plain" white bread. It's fun to cut in into appropraite-sized squares, squidge it down into muffin tins , brush it with butter and bake until you have these cunning golden cases. I've made quichelettes in these things, poured in the creamed salmon, ratatouille and so on. But Wonder and it's globby ilk? Fie, and I don't care it that makes me sounds elitist. I have eaten exactly one bite of one PBJ in my life, when I was about four. That lethal texture almost caulked up my throat. I think shredded Wonder could be substituted for clumping kitty litter. I do agree about cheap hamburger buns, if they're toasted and pressed flat. A burger on too-substantial bread isn't fun to eat.

That was a blast. I used two Ball jars -- 10 oz and 4 oz. The bigger jar holds eight beans, split and cut into one inch lengths. For the smaller jar I used four beans, cut but not split. Because I dislike flavorless booze in drinks on principle I never buy vodka for the bar, but in the interests of this project I forked out 9.99 for a 1.75 bottle of Skol, which is made in Kentucky. Hey, it was on sale! It's usually a whopping 12.99 for a biggie. As I don't intend to drink this stuff, mouth feel is incidental, and I don't know that the vodka I use for vanilla extract needs to be 100 % pure -- God know's I'm not. Eighty proof is good enough for me.(I'm thinking of burying half a pod in the depths of my lingerie drawer.) Watching this stuff mature, shaking it up and eyeballing it daily for color changes will be more fun than a Chia pet.

Me too. I must add that since my very first reading of this piece the vision of the ladies in the loquat tree has floated in my head like the memory of a beautiful Japanese woodblock print. Thanks, Priscilla.

The great vanilla pod giveaway has ended. All the packets are in the mail. ← My packet arrived an hour ago -- I'll make a vodka run later today. Thanks, Steven -- that was the best-smelling mail ever. Hmmmm -- vanilla-infused envelopes?

Check.

Your wife is gaming you, Big Time. I love it. But I have to say her box is challenging. I am going to follow the contest (Picures please!) avidly.What would amuse me a bunch is if you both provide the same menu.

Brilliant. I'm going to buy some ammonia tomorrow.