Dave the Cook

This site shows some details of the garment Jinmyo is talking about. Suzanne: note the cuffs! Samugi

Maybe this will be helpful: Japanese clothing Edit: A hippari is waist-length, isn't it?

It's hard to see much detail in Jinmyo's link, but it looks like a variation of a gi -- a karate uniform. Maybe you could modify a pattern for one of those?

If you're eventually going to make sauces with the stock, it's probably a bad idea. If you add enough salt to make it taste nice at its standard reduction ratio then you will have something that's overly salty upon further reduction. A teaspoon or whatever probably won't hurt, but probably won't help much either. My suggestion would be that you take one cup and set it aside for taste-test purposes. Add a little salt and do a quick reduction in your smallest saucepan, tasting at the beginning and throughout. That way you'll satisfy your curiosity and be able to make some salt-enhanced tasting notes, but you won't affect the primary inventory of stock. A discussion on the use of salt in stock can be found here: Chicken Stock, How do you make yours? I do not intend to contradict the Teacher; this is merely an attempt to inform the discussion with a little empirical evidence -- and to encourage students to experiment on their own. As FG and Carolyn have been saying, once you've got the basics, you can adjust to suit your own tastes and cooking style.

I think when no variety is specified, the convention is that it is spearmint. This is what is normally found in the grocery store. It would be interesting if Matthew and Maggie used different types but both liked it. I find the tastes of spearmint and peppermint pretty different -- at least as much as oregano and marjoram, two other closely related herbs.

Thanks Katherine. Personally, I think the pure olive oil approach is the best for an all-purpose mayo, but it's a matter of taste. Also, you reminded me of something that perhaps I should have mentioned earlier. Marlene's recipe called for two egg yolks, so that's what I worked with. But as you've demonstrated, you can use whole eggs and avoid the juice addition at the beginning -- because the white, which is more than half the weight of the egg, is mostly water. By starting with whole eggs, your emulsion stabilizes very quickly (in the blender, anyway), and you can add the oil as soon as the egg is fully beaten. Adding the lemon juice at the end not only flavors the sauce, but provides further stabilization. The other thing you've shown is how powerful the egg is as an emulsifier. One egg yolk can emulsify far more than a cup of oil, if you treat it properly. Much of this material is in the two McGee books, On Food and Cooking and The Curious Cook.

To approximate a quantitative measurement, dissolve specific weights of gelatin in specific volumes of water, measure their setup times and create a spreadsheet. Then deposit similar amounts of each sample into identical containers, time how long it takes each to set up (though some will not set up at all), and compare to your spreadsheet. Edit: a really interesting project would be to graph gelatin development over time.

That's why it looked familiar.

I see two possibilities. The first is quite basic: - Mayo is not an emulsion of egg yolk and oil. It is an emulsion of fat and water. This simple fact is easily forgotten in the effort to blend in that lake of oil. We concentrate on the seeming impossibility (which chemically is quite simple) and overlook the true nature of the sauce. That is why we fail. - Since it is an emulsion of fat and water, we have to look at the sources. Fat: egg yolk and oil. Water: citrus juice, Worcestershire, egg yolk. Emulsifiers: egg yolk, mustard. - Because of the misapprehension of the sauce, many recipes focus on the oil/yolk process. In this recipe, for instance, you create an initial emulsion by mixing the yolk itself; the water and fat, catalyzed by the naturally occurring lecithin in the yolk, creates a very stable emulsion. You can tell when this has happened because the yolk turns pale -- the fat surrounding the water molecules has made them somewhat opaque, and they are absorbing light rather than reflecting it (this is also due to air, as Suzanne points out). Then you add the oil. The reason this takes so long is that the only water source is what's in the yolk. It's extremely difficult to emulsify that much oil with such a small amount of water -- the ratio is about 18 parts oil to 1 part water. So: Start with the yolk self-emulsion. Add the mustard and a bit of the citrus juice (maybe a scant teaspoon) and blend again. Then start with your oil. You'll find that you can add it in proportion to the yolk: about 1/4 the total yolk volume will bind with no problem (with two yolks, that's about 1/2 tablespoon at a time.) Once you've added about 1/4 of the oil, add another teaspoon of juice. Now you can start adding more oil in a pretty steady stream. Just the little bit of water-based liquid we added is sufficient to hold the emulsion (remember, it's water/oil, not egg/oil). We're now looking at a fat:water ratio of 9:1 -- that's a lot more water molecules for the oil to cling to. Once you've finished with the oil, you can add the rest of the juice and the other flavorings. Give it a good whiz to make sure all the water-based components are fully mixed. The second possibility: EVOO is notorious for breaking mayonnaise, and no one yet knows why. It's good for a few hours, but will eventually separate no matter what you do. If you need the dressing to last longer, use no more than 1/2 EVOO combined with a neutral oil like canola. Still, EVOO will win out -- mayo made with it just won't hold as long.

The first thing that occurs to me: a crustacean diet is what makes wild salmon flesh pinkish-orange; the same thing happens to some species of trout that feed on freshwater shrimp. OK, the first thing that occurred to me was really "Uh-oh. Some fishie forgot the Coppertone," but I figured you wouldn't take me seriously. Chalk it up to a Dad who's been chanting "Don't forget the sunscreen" for a few months now.

so what? Hence my use of "incidentally." I think it's interesting. But then, I'm a geek. On the other hand, if you use stock to simmer vegetables, especially dried beans, knowing this might save you some head-scratching on down the line. I'm still working on the Introduction to Kitchen Science lesson. If there's interest, maybe we'll cover this. Another note on volatile compounds in tap water: if you fill a bowl with tap water and sniff it, you'll probably note the presence of chlorine, among other things (iron and sulfur are the most common). Leave the bowl open (or cover it with cheesecloth), and let it sit on the counter overnight. In the morning, you'll find that most of the odor is gone (along with most of the dissolved oxygen, which is responsible for most of the "fresh" taste of water). Simmering will only accelerate this effect. FG: what about lithium stocks? I hear they're quite soothing.

The causes of the most objectionable odors in tap water (mostly sulfur compounds and the like) are volatile and decompose as the water heats. Almost all of it will completely break down during the long simmer. The rest of the stuff is tasteless or is rendered tasteless; is trapped by the other stuff in the water as precipitates or compounds; or is overpowered by the flavor of the stock. Having said that, I wouldn't be surprised if an astute palate might not pick up some residual note that others would not -- chlorine, for instance, or iron. Filtration is always an option, or bottled water, which is not terribly expensive if you avoid the portion-size bottles and buy a five-gallon jug instead. Incidentally, finished stock is mildly alkaline.

Actually, I like this myself, with a sprinkling of good crunchy salt and pepper.

The last I checked, this thread was not a thread on stock making, it was a thread for questions related to the class. There are already a number of threads dedicated to making stock, and those are where much of this discussion belongs.

Amen, Carolyn. All of this advanced suppostion, speculation and discussion reminds me of the English class where a few students have already read the book, and can't help displaying their self-styled precociousness. Just like in high school, it's at best distracting and at worst deleterious to the nature of the class, the purpose of which is, as I understand it, to teach beginners how to make stock. I would be very surprised if anyone posting alternative techiniques on this thread didn't first do it pretty much the way FG and Carolyn will be teaching it. Over time, methods, intentions and techniques evolve. But just like learning to play piano or build furniture, you finger a lot of scales or saw up a bunch of bookshelves before you are able to practice the true craft. I propose that we let Carolyn and Fat Guy run their class without a bunch of static. There will be time after the class for discussion.

Chick-Fil-A also has great lemonade. Unless you make it yourself, or convince a relative that loves you (a lot) to make it, you won't get better.

I am checking with my friendly neighborhood metallurgist, but I think, from a practical matter, almost all 304 stainless sheet goods are of the 18/10 variety these days. I am also asking what the current specs allow for in the range of Cr content. A few years ago, I was involved in an ASTM round robin for testing of austenitic stainless for chloride cracking. We had a hard time getting the lower quality sheet goods for a positive control. Well, we couldn't get it. We will see. I just don't want folks to fall for a lot of hype and spend money unnecessarily. I have been intimately aquainted with cheaper and outrageously expensive stainless sinks and I can't tell the difference due to metallurgy. The main difference has been the surface finish that has nothing to do with the metallurgy. Dave... want to weigh in on this issue? I would only note that 18/10 is nearly impossible to find in cookware anymore, either. When you find it, it's nothing you would want to buy, not because it's cheaper steel, but because the cheaper steel apparently goes along with cheaper manufacturing and a less thoughful design aesthetic. This is not to disparage Kohler and Elkay, who make fine products. It's a general observation based mainly on examining utensils and cookware, and not sinks. I assume the extra 2% nickel is related to brightness of the finished surface, and not to durability or to a particular finish. I surmise that the actual finish is a mechanical process; you see 18/10 in polished, satin and brushed finishes, and the warranty on such products does not vary. I've never seen a s/s sink in anything but a brushed finish; I assume that's to disguise the inevitable scratches. Other than that, I don't know -- as you say, fifi, "I am not an expert." I've had cast-iron sinks for as far back as I remember, and never gave them a lot of thought. I picked my last one for size and color, and didn't consider the other issues that have been explored on this thread. I agree with Nick, it's been great.

That's called marketing! For some reason, the point of an offset drain escaped me until this thread. I've seen them and wondered what the heck the point was. Duh, as they say. Now that the scales have fallen from my eyes, I wonder if there are clearance problems with disposals, and how those are handled.

I've only read Pot on the Fire, but it now occurs to me that a lot of Thorne's explorations start with some variation on: "I just don't get..." Right off the top of my head, I recall that the Bahn Mi, Rice and cookware pieces all start like this.

Just wondering where you found the true definition of chowder. I did a search just now, and found many definitions, some saying it must have milk or cream, some saying it can be anything from tomato base to cream base, some have seafood, some don't... A couple cookbooks I have discussed the distinction, and the resultant controversy. One of them mentioned the chowder-cream connection. I will admit once, and only once, that my bias towards the "proper" definition of chowder is influenced by my New England upbringing, and its sympathy towards any doctrine that would reinforce New England style as the One True Clam Chowder. So mote it be. Thanks for the Thorne reference, guajolote. I'll have to check it out. Here's my understanding of the issue: The word "chowder," comes from "chaudiere," the French word for cauldron. Originally, it referred to a contantly replenished fish stew that was maintained on board fishing vessels. Since it would have been in short supply, it's unlikely that this concotion contained fresh milk. French immigrants brought the tradition of the chaudiere to Nova Scotia and added milk to the recipe. Therefore, the idea of chowder as a milk-based dish is a North American notion. "Manhattan" clam chowder was invented in New England by Portuguese immigrants, who favored tomatoes over dairy. The rest is public relations.

Such as a poorly-timed belch?

The Stroganoff recipe from Cook's Illustrated (can't remember if it was from the mag or a book). They stripped all the extra stuff that has accreted around this concotion over the years, and ended up with straightforward, enriched saute with surprising sublety. It reminided me why the dish became a classic.

I will, though of course I'll be nicer to him than I am to you! BTW, AB doesn't do it any more -- check his book (page 50):

Sorry, I don't buy it. I think it's one of those "it's how we've always done it" things. The crust is not formed by oil, it's formed by coagulated proteins. Salting the meat makes perfect sense, as it draws water-soluble proteins and sugars to the surface of the meat. So in a minor way, coating with oil might actually inhibit crust formation by interposing a layer between the heat source and the meat. When the meat has become encrusted, it releases from the cooking surface anyway, so the idea of ensuring a non-stick experience doesn't make sense to me either.

I don't understand this oil thing. 'splain, please, or I'll have to post this on the "Things I Don't Get" thread.