Dave the Cook

All good points, Suzanne. Perhaps referring to this thread, where Really Nice did such a great discourse, would help.

This erroneous recipe topic has come up on a number of threads, so I won't vent again here, except to say that I think it's inexcusable. My first thought was of the most recent Cook's Illustrated, where they make a carrot cake using oil. I don't have the article in front of me, but they remarked on the density and moistness of the cake in the same way Ellen talked about the original of her cake. Might be worth a look.

I peeled a whole bunch of garlice about a month ago, and they've been sitting in my fridge under some vegetable oil. Should I toss them? Perhaps you should. Botulism makes those clippie things look pretty tame.

I'm sure Con-Agra or Archer Daniels Midland would be willing. And they could use some cred with this group.

I need to correct part of this. Brown sugar is not made by applying molasses to white sugar. It is made by applying precisely caramelized sugar syrup to white sugar. Since, as noted in the previous post, browning has profound effects on taste and texture, it is not unreasonable to assume that molasses is involved. But it's not. Consequently, there is no reason for beet sugar packagers to resort to cane sources in order to make brown sugar. The syrups used to make brown sugar can be made from either. Sorry for the error.

Thank you, Elyse. Without having them in front of me, this will be speculative, but maybe I can give you some hints in addition to what guajolote has done. I think there are two differences between the liquid malt you have now and the powdered malt you are used to. (What follows is not meant to be condescending, but complete. If it includes principles, and the effects of those principles, that are already familiar to you, it is only out of a desire to be thorough.) 1) The main difference is due to caramelization. The point of malting is to break down starch, which is abundant in the plant embryo, into components more accessible to yeast, thus enhancing fermentation. The starch becomes a combination of sugars, including single or double sugars which are digestible by yeast, and a variety of polysaccharides, which are not. (Irrelevant factoid: the residual polysaccharides are responsible for much of the body in malt beverages.) The drying that guajolote referred to is often accomplished by roasting, after the plant has sprouted and been washed. As in any dry heat process, the degree of browning can be controlled by both temperature and time. At the extremes, this means that malt could be dried merely by controlling humidity -- in other words, with no heat (beyond ambient) at all; it could also be dried with high heat, causing fairly high amounts of browning. Browning incorporates not just color change, but a myriad of chemical reactions (known as Maillard reactions) that result in textural and flavor changes, some of them quite profound -- think about refined white sugar versus the glaze on creme brulee. It sounds like your liquid malt is a roasted malt that has been dissolved in water -- in other words, a solution of browned sugars. Cane sugar goes through several stages of heating, washing and certrifugation on its way to full refinement. At each stage, liquid is drawn off; this liquid is molasses, although the least aggressive molasses is nothing more than reduced cane juice. As liquid travels through the process, it is subject to more heat. Therefore it caramelizes. Caramelization also takes place when pure cane juice is reduced to make molasses. While refined sugar is 99+% sucrose, molasses is more complex, including fructose and glucose in their simple states (sucrose is a disaccharide comprising one glucose and one fructose molecule), plus polysaccharides created by the cooking process. In other words, molasses is a solution of browned sugars. Therefore, the fact that you find liquid malt reminiscent of molasses is perfectly reasonable. They are almost the same thing. 2) The second difference is mainly contingent on your memory of powdered malt being actually malted milk. Malted milk is more powdered milk than malt, and it is obviously less subject to browning. Its flavor relies mainly on the flavor of barley that has been lightly roasted. Given the profund differences in flavor that browning can create, it should not be surprising that it can be very different from the liquid. It's akin to dissolving table sugar in milk and comparing it to Grandma's molasses. Even if you're not thinking of malted milk, the difference between a browned product asn an unbrowned on can be quite significant --note the difference between raw ground beef and a well-crusted hamburger. Does this make sense? Does it help?

Perhaps they're not audited.

Ortolans. (Rapidly becoming my one-size-fits-all answer.)

Tuteur, from the French meaning...hmm... Tutor! Basically a (usually) pyramidial structure placed in the garden on which to "train"...hence "tuteur" ...climbimg plants. Go to any garden center or fancy-dancy garden catalogue and they are loaded with expensine wooden, or even copper numbers. And most of those lovely medieval garden paintings (French) usually feature a tuteur or two. I just grab three long bamboo stakes, set the ends in a vaguely triangular pattern in the ground, and lash the top ends together, about five inches down, with garden twine. I think my version is sometimes called a "Teepee", but, Tuteur has that certain ring! So, nothing to do with ballet. Good.

Please explain "tuteur."

So that's what those are. Thanks. This was back in the day -- when gloves were for tourists.

According to SuzanneF, chicken heads float.

First cooking job I ever had (25 years ago) was to thaw, shell, devein and butterfly 100 pounds of frozen U-10 shrimp. Icy, hand- and head-numbing miserable work. It also precipitated an allergy that persists to this day -- if I shell raw shrimp my hands swell up and itch like crazy. I feel for you. BTW, cheap bastards rule.

Yeah, also Nathalie Dupree (maybe she adapted -- it's her style). It was in trying her method that I realized that even renowned chefs can be full of it sometimes. No, Nero wasn't much for the ladies. But that particular episode is amusing because he so obviously felt that he was being generous to housewives, and at the same time belittling their skill. One of Stout's more deft turns. And so another biothread is hijacked. Sorry, ferdelance.

You disagree: - when Nero generously allows that no mere housewife could be expected to spend 45 minutes making them? King of the left-handed complement, wasn't he? or - that they should take 45 minutes in the first place? I believe I may call you Lily from now on.

A few years back, a friend of mine started raising cattle on his small farm in North Georgia. Once he had his fences in and the stock was acclimated, a bunch of us went out to his place for a cookout -- catfish and bass from his lake, watermelon and corn -- a summer feast. Just before dinner, a few of us took a tour of the farm. We were on Honda ATVs -- me and my older son, my brother-in-law and his son, and Mike (the gentleman farmer) and one of his boys -- two to a vehicle. We got to the other side of the cow pasture and, since the terrain seemed pretty safe, we let the kids take the ATVs back, while we grownups hoofed it. Mike and my brother-in-law got to talking about how to stock the lake, and I got interested in something else. Anyway, we got separated. I wasn't quite lost, because I could see the house from where I was. I just couldn't figure out which way to go on the maze of paths that confronted me. So I decide to go straight through the cow pasture. I'm only two generations off the farm, and growing up, I'd met my share of livestock, so I wasn't afraid of the cows -- they don't call them ruminants for nothing. However, bulls they can be possessive and/or territorial, and when I crossed one's path, he wasn't having any of it. He chased me across the pasture and over the fence, where, much to my later embarassment, I ripped through the backside of a very nice pair of hiking shorts. The escapade made great conversational fodder at dinner, but I was less than amused. It's common to think of domestic cows as big, sweet dummies, but having several hundred pounds of beef on the hoof chase you around a big open field can change your opinion. And leave you with a tinge of fear that you might not have had before. The next spring, we had a reprise of the picnic, this time enhanced with grilled, *grass-fed* beef, something I had never had before. Over dinner, Mike mentioned that he had butchered and aged several cattle at a nearby deer-processing plant, and asked if we wanted a quarter or a side -- we could take it home that night. My brother-in-law and I agreed to split a side. Later, as we went to pack it up, Mike started pulling packages from the freezer. Each one was labeled with the cut and the weight -- and something else. Mike said, "I figured you'd want some of this, and I wanted yours to be extra-tasty. So I took special care to pick the right animal when I thinned the herd. I had too many bulls, so the choice was really pretty easy." He turned the package over. The extra label said, "Dave's Cow."

Welcome, ferdelance. Was Nero's chef named Fritz, or was he the Orchid Guy? BTW...I was hoping your alias was a reference to the great Nero. Fer-de-Lance, welcome! Fritz was the chef, Theodore was the orchid guy. (I should have known you'd be a fan, Maggie.)

Nice article, Jason. If you are comfortable and you have the time, could you be more specific in comparing these brandies to a few French counterparts?

I hadn't heard of this. Will look into it. Rumor has it that sheep are used for many purposes in Alabama, not all of them related to cooking. or It would have to be imported, as the only good thing to come *out* of Alabama is Interstate 20 (yes, old joke).

You're right, you're right. Still. The band was named after ol' Jethro, and according to some rag or other (Restaurant??) so was the dead flesh palace in Soho. Well, OK then. (I liked the BoDeans, too.) Simon, I'm sure there is great pork in Kentucky -- at Ron Johnson's home, if nowhere else. Had you come to Georgia, I'd have made sure you got it here, too. So you are not wrong, but perhaps your view is incomplete. Mutton is what makes Kentucky barbecue unique, as it is done almost nowhere else -- actually, it's not even done in most of Kentucky.

I'm not normally one to correct a Goddess, but I believe Jethro spelled his name B-O-D-I-N-E. Simon, where do you find Kentucky in this menu? In my mind, Kentucky is unique for burgoo and barbecued mutton. Do they have these?

I love traditional trifle, unpretentious and sloppy. But -- - sliced apples/ pears and marscarpone cheese sweetened with maple syrup; reduced apple cider - chocolate mousse and strawberries or tart cherries cooked down into a chunky sauce - sabayon with berries and balsamic vinegar with confectioner's sugar

I have found Mark and the Colonel to be reliable sources when it comes to this sort of thing. Also The Goddess CathyL. I would emphasize what the Colonel says about heat control on the Weber: it's easier to bring the temperature up than to try and cool it down. I would also add that even if you find it impossible to maintain perfect heat control, a pork shoulder is very forgiving. Don't panic. Do things slowly, or you'll end up on a seesaw. I speak from experience. Just 'cause it's good to know: the reason for keeping the temperature relatively low is to prolong the period during which the meat will accept smoke. According to CathyL, once the surface temperature reaches 160F, the smoking part of the process is pretty much over. The rest of the cooking time is to make sure the roast is done (it spends a lot of time in the danger zone, so you want to be sure), and to get the collagen to melt, which doesn't start until it reaches an internal temp of 140 (and it takes a long time once you get there; it's tough stuff). In order to maximize smoke receptivity time, take the pork straight from the 'fridge to the grill -- don't go in for none o' that "bring it to room temperature" stuff.

Thank you, Liza. No, I haven't read Steingarten. I think if I had, I wouldn't have published this for fear of being thought cribbing. I did get one of his books for Christmas; I'll get to it right after the Babbo and Zuni Cafe cookbooks.

True. Even if you don't have a machine, you have $6-7/hour drones that work to carefully designed culinary blueprints -- in other words, chain restaurants. I was going to mention this (I was in J-school at the time but moved on). And we can see the results today -- most news reporting sucks. Not a good omen for the future of fine dining. Agreed.