maggiethecat

OK, I watched the videos again. Well, none in particular. For those of you who want to try those tricks: As for the potato trick, just make a 1-mm deep cut all around the potato, boil it, and put it in iced water in ten seconds. As for the shrimp one, just make three cuts as illustrated. I don't think I'll ever use those tricks. ← I just adored the makeshift corkscrew that was used to strip crab legs, and the "How to get potatoes to retain their shape " video. Cool. (Even cooler, the "How to fold a Tshirt in Split Seconds.) But , dear Hiroyuki, were they really spitting ice water on those adorable babies to make them stop crying? And could you please translate the "How to Cook Dumplings" video? I want to know! And Tim, thanks for sharing.

....the ever popular taffy apples, which could be tarted up in many creative ways.

Alas, no. I agree that it might be easier that way, but this is all about presenting a finished work -- I'm sure you can rise to the challenge! And please, don't hesitate to be first to post.

Radish consomme. Oh, the greatness of eGullet! Where on earth but here?

You and my husband! Why not fry chicken and splatter the silk Ferragamo tie, then change into the eight year old Land's End paunch protector?

There are indeed some amongst us - my sister's MIL and my MIL for instance...notice the keyword MIL - who are obsessed with how the food is going to affect their system. Tell them what you're going to cook that evening, and, if you're not careful with your menu, you'll be bombarded with, "This will make you...blah blah blah..." ← Tepee: I'm a "westerner" and I am really fascinated by this passage. Could you give examples of what these inestimable MILs feel are good or bad for their systems?

Well, of course the maple sugar, five spice powder, star anise, dried ginger and Lyle's Golden Syrup belong on the same shelf. Right? The molasses belongs with the candied mimosa and the box of 1000 cocktail parasols, of course. Do not fail to put things back any other way! Visiting Mixologists: I'm so sorry. The Pastis and Pernod live in the Shaker pantry, sharing shelf space with the rice noodles and dried mushrooms. Wine sits on the sideboard. Spirits share the second-from-the-bottom shelf of the bookcase, along with the food dish of Willow, the small slim kitty. (Ajax the Big Boy gets the lower shelf to himself.) Fortified wines are on the spice shelves. And the kettle has pride of place far away from the stovetop. Besides, there's not much room for it there, what with the big Lodge frypan, the stockpot, the 42.99 nonstick job from Ikea which is great for a quick omelet...

Butter. I'm still shocked by how many places serve that You Bet I Can Taste It's Not Butter Buddycrap. Sweet, salted, gorcery-store or "European," give me my butter. White aged cheddar, not slippery orange stuff. California oranges bought from roadside stands on the way to Ojai. My God! They tasted not only sweet (Florida oranges from the supermarket are sweet...) but day-glo orange. (I drink about one cola a month. Coke is sweet and bland. Pepsi has depth....character! An ice-cold fully-leaded Pepsi is sovreign against hangovers. Diet Pepsi ain't great, but the bubbles nip at your tongue. Diet Coke hasn't a clue. Not to derail this, and I think there is surely a Coke vs Pepsi thread somewhere, but I just don't get Coke. Maybe because I grew up in Quebec....) Oh yes, real maple syrup.

Of course the language has something to do with it! The majority of the residents of this North American metropolis have been speaking French nonstop for four hundred years or thereabouts. Montreal also boasts architecture from the 17th century to the 20th, a population that has always considered a chic appearance and a good meal a right, not a privilege, and a certain "European" insularity.

I grow "Bright Lights" as an ornamental in the flowerbed -- I grow tomatoes and brussel sprouts as ornamentals too. I think they're pretty! "Bright Lights" very tasty and dependable, and the yellow, pink, orange and white hues remain distinctive when cooked, though, as noted upthread, slightly subdued.

We found about five miles of perfectly good casing at the back of the fridge last night. Yippee!! First up, the chorizo from "Charcuterie" because we had all the ingredients handy. Great flavor, and excellent texture.

That sounds like the first sentence of a novel I'd like to read. 103.329

I'd go with Marlene's directions but skip the olive oil rub. I personally think the skin (my favorite part) is crisper unoiled. What a good idea for feeding a crowd.

The usual unnatural acts with pasta and potatoes. He hates white food and eggs, so I rejoice and consider: pasta carbonara, baked potato with a fried egg nestled within, mac and cheese, Dave the Cook's Quick Gratin, Grits Souffle...

I have the Cathedral and the Daisy, and wish I owned every single one! They are articles of enchantment to me, miniature architecture. I'd love a wall of shelves with the pans displayed as objects of enchantment. But, so little space, and I am not a professional pastrycook. I might need to get the pan that makes the six mini-flowers. And that Arabesque...

So did you and Rachel have the Sweetheart Special? Were you the only diners over the age of sixteen? (I love the group shot of the young lovers, especially the kid with the kinda Mohawk on the far right. Does Steven Shaw have a younger brother?)

I wish I knew. Then there are all the platitudes that free-traders trot out: "So what if we pay that man only two dollars a week to pick coffee? If you boycott he won't even have that." This has always seemed to me beyond cynical, but I still worry about that two bucks he won't get.

Rebecca: if this blog served no other purpose than to prevent your daughter from smoking, Susan, Dave and Marlene have done heroic work. Speaking of daughters, it's Honor's birthday today -- she's spent years trying to get me to give up my ciggies, and on Thanksgiving Day, 2005 she extracted a quit date from me. This is, more than anything, for her. Happy Birthday, Sweetie. As a fellow-traveler I know how hard this has been. I got to rock gently in a corner, whimpering and sucking my thumb while you three cooked for 15,000 virtual guests, took care of your kids, sweated out the flu in a dreary hotel room, wrote about it and took pictures ! Thanks for your kind words, Marlene Susan and Dave, and thanks for allowing me to pop in occasionally for a primal scream.

Dave, do you have any of that gratin left over? I've been jonesing for it since I read about it, and I think it might be the go-to app, amuse, breakfast.... In fact, I'm cooking for myself tonight and I might make an individual gratin and call it dinner. I've got some frozen potstickers I'd happily airlift to Atlanta.

I'm not sure ,in my case at least, that anything short a lobotomy is going to make it easier. But I'm bigtime into listing the personal advantages of quitting (fewer ashtrays to wash, more money to dribble away on frivolity, etc) and the improvement in my sense of taste is nothing short of psychedelic. It will rock your world.

This is so great -- better than any cooking show or reality TV. It almost makes me want to smoke. Almost. It's seems so strenuous and arcane, like sailing or cricket witha new vocaubulary and all kinds of cool expensive technology. But man! Your meat looks magnificent. Bon appetit, ladies and Dave. I brought this up hereInteresting reading, but the jury seems out. Boy, I sure wish I'd been drinking Bloody Caesars! It's been a surprisingly tough day today, so I'm sublimating by cleaning my closets. Glutton for punishment, I know, but I'm also washing everything washable so my clothes smell as if they belong to my mythical ideal, a lady called Francesca. She's so elegant and composed -- a cross between Audrey Hepburn and Madame de Stael. As if! (as anyone who knows me can attest.) Russell. SoCal is always good for me, and I truly believe that my getaway to LA was the number one reason for my success. That includes, of course, my children and the ways they spoiled me. I still want a smoke bad when I'm having a drink -- alcohol or coffee. And five or six other times a day. I'm trying a cup of Lapsang Souchong as I type, and it's fabulous - as if it were my first cup of tea. It's the first real payoff since I dumped my smokes. Taste is back! A couple of days before Jon's schedule, my mouth is full of virgin tastebuds, and it's really a whole new world. My bacon and eggs were more delectable then ever. I caught all the flavor threads that infused the curry last night. Even my cuppa Joe was a revelation. I'm trying to focus on what a blessing it is to receive a whole sense back,like living my fantasy about Lasix surgery and being able to see without glasses when I wake up. Now I'm going to pour another cup of tea and wait to see theplating. Yum

I've seen the packages of NASCAR veg -- surreal beyond belief. Janet Evanovich's "Metro Girl" (if I remember correctly-- I read about eight books a week) features romance, mayhem and a hottie hero called NASCAR Guy or something. It wasn't bad. Does anyone actually buy any celebrity line? With the exception of Newman's Own, does the imprimateur of a celeb actually make merchandise fly out the door? I'd love to check the P&L of, say, Emeril's kiddie stuff. (I am impelled to add that my mother, who is neither gullible nor cooking-impaired adores Jamie Oliver's cookware. I am further impelled to add that Mummy is right about everything, 98% of the time.)

Child slavery trumps foie gras, horsemeat, fur coats, crocodile handbags and inhumanely harvested fiddleheads. I could give up chocolate sans regrets, tomorrow, if I found out it was all the product of child slaves. Like Megan, I would like to learn more.

I realize I'm not even in the game here, but: does anyone else have five pounds of chestnut flour hiding behind the lima beans?

Very cool, on both counts! Mad ups to you and Marlene for preparing and photographing such fab Friday-night feasts! It's that Friday night quick enough to whip up between tricks perennial chez nous, spaghettini ala Putanesca. I noticed that we even have a Putanesca Kit in the fridge: a Tupperware containing a can of anchovies and a grip of olives. Quick, brainless, tasty. A pink martini or three -- rosy because we steeped some vodka with blood oranges, a pretty drink indeed! I didn't go out for a pop or two with buddies from work because i was terrified that the ambience and the heavenly aroma of cigarette smoke would make me crack and light up. Maybe in a couple of weeks I'll do a test run; a Friday night without cigarettes still seems mighty lame and sad. More origami flowers. More internet retail. Day ten with nary a cigarette, but trust me, not because I don't lust for one.