maggiethecat

Ducky, your open-faced cheese sandwich was a standard Saturday lunch when I was growing up. We kids loved it, and I do still. My mother called it a "Cheese Dream." When she used crumpets instead of bread, and added bacon it was a "Cheese Dream Supreme." IKEAs in Chicagoland have the restaurant with the meatballs and smoked salmon and such, but also a snack bar that sells hotdogs and frozen yoghurt.

In the early days of eGullet their was a subset of members called SSBs, an acronym for Smug Scientific Bastards. Come out, come out, wherever you are, to comfirm or debunk this amazing tip I received from my mother, via my brother. Seems Mummy had made a Turkey Curry after Christmas and tipped in waaaaay too much hot stuff--not sure if it was cayenne, red pepper flakes, whatever. Even in her gastronomically adventuresome household, it proved too hot to eat with any pleasure. She froze the leftovers, figuring she'd do some doctoring with coconut milk to make it edible for my brother and his family when they paid a New Year's visit. She explained all this to my brother as she groped for the coconut milk at the back of the pantry. Ian (Caterer) said: "Chill, Mum. Freezing spicy hot food takes the edge off. It will be fine." And he was right. No fiddling necessary. Has anyone experienced this phenomenon? If real, why?

I'm confused. Until I read this I thought I understood. Can you explain again? ← Sorry for the confusion, Linda. I just wanted folks to know that this won't function like our stellar blog series from real live eGullet members, where you'd post your Marilyn Monroe breakfast menu (coffee, Valium) and wait for eGulls to chime in on your thread. You get to reply as Joe DiMaggio, recommending bacon and eggs.

Post your entries here, please. Great blog!

Forget football. I understand that the Superbowl will be held sometime soon, and those Fantasy Footballl Leagues might go on hiatus -- at least until you've scraped the the nacho cheese off the remote. Between now and the Ice Dancing competitions,the eGullet Literary Smackdown XXVII gives you the opportunity to channel the daily diet of someone dead or fictional, and give him or her the opportunity to chat about chow. What didn't George Washington eat at Valley Forge? Maybe Farmer McGregor would like to expound on sustainable agriculture and jugged hare. Dr. Jekyll and M.. Hyde could tag team a blog. Henry the VIII, Rossini, Miss Marple, Ty Cobb, Beowulf -- hell, Elvis! They all had to eat. This is a set piece, not an interactive blog. When a reader wants to reply, you write it for him. Say Thomas Jefferson is in raptures about his rice crop -- you post the snotty reply from Alexander Hamilton reminding him that he brought the stuff into the country illegally. The deadline is March 31st, and I'll be awarding two cookbooks to the First Prize Winner,one apiece to Second and Third. Don't post your entries here. Go to The Fantasy Blogspot.

Forget football. I understand that the Superbowl will be held sometime soon, and those Fantasy Footballl Leagues might go on hiatus -- at least until you've scraped the the nacho cheese off the remote. Between now and the Ice Dancing competition, Gullet Literary Smackdown XXVII gives you the opportunity to channel the daily eating habits of someone dead or fictional. and give him or her the opportunity to ct about chow. What didn't George Washington eat at Valley Forge? Maybe Farmer McGregor would like to expound on sustainable agriculture and rabbit cuisine. Dr. Jekyll and Mr.. Hyde. Henry the VIII, Rossini, Miss Marple, Beowulf: they all had to eat! This is a set piece, not an interactive blog. When a reader wants to reply, you write it for him. Say Thomas Jefferson is bragging about his rice crop -- you post the snotty reply from Alexander Hamilton reminding him that he brought the stuff into the country illegally. The deadline is March 31st, and I'll be awarding two cookbooks to the First Prize Winner,one apiece to Second and Third.

103067. (Wow, andie -- two signed first edition Elizabeth Davids and that cool California book!)

This is a fabulous truc I've been using for the past couple of years. The source:Martha Stewart demonstrating her "house" vinaigrette -- an excellent straightfoward recipe employing the familiar ingredients and proportions. Then she said something like: "OK, here's my secret, why everyone says my vinaigrette tastes better than theirs. I add a teaspoon of sugar." I've never made it any other way since, and that's why mine tastes better than yours! Our own nightscotsman proved the reverse to me when he served some of his fabulous chocolate tarts. He'd sprinkled the tops with fleur de sel. I'll never forget the power of that sweet/salty contrast

The opening page of I Don't Know How She Does it has our businesswoman heroine, Kate, bashing about some store bought mince tarts for her children to take to a Christmas party. She can't bear the thought that the other Mums - stay-at-home types -- will sneer at her for taking something that isn't homemade. Because home cooking is stilll culturally, mostly the province of women I suppose I can understand that women are less likely to fess up if they're serving food someone else cooked. But, heck no. As others here have said, my stuff is usually better than commercial, and if I were, say, to serve a good patisserie tarte I would cheerfully tell everyone where I bought it.

Orange Crush. For me it was Orange Crush... A walk down Daily Gullet memory lane

103, 027, including one for me: Don't Try This at Home. Great fun, but predictably Bourdain can write circles around any of the other chefs represented therein. (Priscilla )

I made the Tomato/Fennel Soup from the Les Halles cookbook last night because it was one of the few things I could think of that my afflicted tummy and appetite would appreciate. Again, I can't praise this recipe too highly. It's laughably simple, uses few ingredients and tastes both fresh and complex.

Charlie Trotter isn't exactly famous for his desserts, but his recipe for Lime/Caramel ice cream in "The Kitchen Sessions" cookbook is worth shelling out the dough for the whole book. (There are some other civilian-friendly recipes within .) The texture and flavour is stunning, original, life-changing.

My Jewish Sisters: I've lurked on this thread since forever, and this Episcopalian wishes to tell you that you rock. With Sunday dinner, sadly, mostly a thing of the past I love that you cook such beautiful meals for Shabbos. I envy the fellowship around your tables and and on this thread. Bonus for me: Terrific menu ideas. This shiksa appreciates the inspiration!

Thiis seems to me to be a God-given excuse to eat as many mashed potatoes as you wish, and an opportunity to explore their glories. With gorgonzola? Colcannon? Mixed with mashed turnips and carrots? (Pretty good, actually.) Maybe topped with poached eggs?

Dear Melissa: Why? That fresh from the oven cookie has its own lovely texture, likewise a reasonably freah doughnut? Why does dunking improve either? A biscotto or a Holland Rusk -- the dry, twice-cooked things are meant to be dunked --ok by me. But" "a warm and oozing" fresh from the oven goody? Whuffo? Milk or coffee on the side, please.

My Mummy told me that ladies don't dunk, so I don't. Ever. (Except for biscotti, which are made to be dunked.) I do all kinds of things that my mother told me ladies don't do, but she was right on dunking: it's nasty.

I made the Rhubard Crumble from the new "Martha Stewart Baking Handbook" last night and it was the hit of the New Years Eve repast. But to the point, whatever one's position is on Martha, this story is rather endearing, and rings true -- she does love her animals. I doubt it does much for the lobsters, but it's the thought that counts. Happy lives and less painful deaths is what I want for my protein. Give that hog some likker before his throat gets slit! Slip those crabs a mickey.

We're kicking off the New Year with 102,324. May our cookbooks lead us to an adventuresome 2006 in the kitchen, or a nice stack of reading on the nightstand, coffeetable, living room floor, passenger seat of the car ...

In honor of New Year's Eve, I decided to make a bunch of ill-assorted stuff that might get me over some ennui of the table and a languid appetite. To wit, mushroom pizza, cooked in my biggest Lodge skillet, shrimp cocktail with sauce courtesy of Crosse and Blackwell, and: Rhubarb Crumble! I used the recipe from the new Martha Stewart "Baking Handbook."a Christmas present from my husband. As Garrison Keillor says, there's nothing like rhubarb to kill the taste of fear and humiliation. And yes, I'm using frozen rhubard, which bubbled up pretty and pink.

Brooks, you made me cry. As members of a Society dedicated to the culinary arts ,peopled with good folks, I'd like to extend an eGullet challenge. Cancel your winter vacations to Belize or Epcot or Jackson Hole and go to New Orleans. Let's do it, please -- show the courage of our convictions and support the renaissance of a great town. Cancel your rez at Alinea or Per Se or French Laundry and do the right thing -- for New Orleans, for food, for the good name of eGullet. I'll be looking at late February or early March.

Make it a double, dear Melic. We ate lunch every year under the tree in the Walnut Room, and ordered the Snowflake Special, with a glass of sherry for the grown ups. The story mentions that a Berghoff daughter is going to use the space for her catering biz. I wonder if the general public will be able to gaze at the murals of the Columbian Exposition? I've had a couple of hours to digest this, and I'm miserable. The surly octenegarian waiters dressed like crows in black and white, like Edward Gorey characters risen from the page, or the grave. The creamed spinach---gone. The best fried potatoes ever, gone. (I once peeped over the pass and saw the cooks patiently browning them in butter in deep pans.) And how I'll miss the smack of the plate of rye bread hitting the bare wood table. And the best twelve buck lunch in Chicago: the Wienerschniztel platter, with the above mentioned creamed spinach and fried potatoes. They used to sell a bourbon, "Berghoff 14"that I'd haul through O'Hare on the way to Montreal to give to my Daddy. And then there were the steamed puddings with custard sauce. I'll stop now, because the B is so much of my personal history that I might blubber. Lord knows it was never the best restaurant in Chicago, but it was authentic. What's next? Are they gonna tear down the Monadnock or the Rookery?

102,241. Nice haul, Marlene. I included "The Food Lover's Companion" in my count, so you should too. Reminder: books about food history, food geography, food biography, food science, food art all count. The binder with the printouts from the eGRA, epicurious and your Granny don't.

What a great package under the tree! I love old editions-- I have a 1927 Fanny Farmer, with 27 course sample menus!That's 102, 413, including my two mainstream and fascinating Christmas gifts: The Martha Stewart Baking Handbook ---worth it for many reasons, but mostly for the keen Parker House Roll formation, and Charcuterie, which I haven't had time to crack, but I have my Jane Grigson handy for a side-by-side.

WTF! They're leaving the airport eatery open and closing the historic gem on Adams? As Macy's will never get one thin dime of my money -- in fact, I would not shop there if they threw cash at me!-- neither will I dine at the O'Hare Berghoff. I'm very, very sad about this. My very first meal in Chicago was at the Berghoff, and later our daughter sat in her infant seat on the bar while we ate corned beef hash sandwiches and the bartenders chucked her cheeks and fed her pretzels. It was always so lovely at Christmastime.... Damn Damn Damn.