Dave the Cook

Peas, corn and limas are all perfectly acceptable, separately, in their frozen state. I disagree with Maggie about the beans: I think they're fine, though you can't treat them like fresh. On carrots we agree: what's the point? Frozen peas and corn usually don't need more than a couple of minutes in boiling water; limas are usually best, in a 50-50 butter/water braise, after about 15; beans in about four (we're continuing to ignore the carrots). But here's what's sort of magical about the mix: somehow, they can all be done at the same time (even the orange guys). How does that happen? Chicken pot pie of course. They're also handy two days after Thanksgiving in a turkey melange of some sort, when the feast vegetables are gone or have given up the ghost. With some good stock, a starch (rice or noodles) and some meat scraps, they can bolster a hasty soup. And though I hate to admit it in front of Maggie, I've tossed them -- corn and all -- into a quick-and-dirty Minnestrone.

I have to declare this experiment a draw. I left the experiment alone for a week -- not by choice, but that's just as well. There was very little crystal growth over that period; if you refer to the earlier photograph of the skewers, you'll see more or less what it looks like now. There's been some accumulation at the bottoms and tops of the jars, but that's about it. On the other hand: the crystals that did form definitely have a smoky flavor. So now the question is, if I can keep the temperature down and refrain from stirring (and do a better job of seeding), will I have a more clear-cut success? Or should I just be happy with the syrups? Has anyone thought up an application for smoked rock candy?

A pressure cooker seems like overkill for corn, though I'm no stranger to wanting to put new gadgets to use. This isn't up to my usual detail, but here's how I do it: cut the kernels off, then -- as others have suggested -- use the back of the knife to get all the milk. Sometimes I sweat chopped shallots in a saucepan with salt, then add the corn and the liquid. Cook until it reduces almost to a glaze. Then I add enough half-and-half or cream (whatever I have on hand) to create the proper smoothness, and sprinkle with cornmeal, masa or cornstarch (keeping it in the family, you know; use a lot less if cornstarch is all you have), and sugar, if needed -- this time of year, it's probably not necessary. Cook until it comes together. Thyme, rosemary and especially black pepper are good seasonings.

I'm seeing lots of red jalapenos around -- perfect for making your own chipotles . . .

Melissa and Marigene are giving good advice. If you have a FoodSaver, freezing is even more efficient, and less prone to freezer burn. Space the peppers out in the bag and seal off each one. Then you can just cut off what you need.

When it comes to lamb and smoke, I think a little goes a long way, and it's easy to overdo it. Unless you're committed to a full-on grilling experience, I'd give them an hour or two over cherry or oak in your Bradley at ambient temperature. Then vacuum-seal them and put in a pot at 160 F for several hours. When they're nice and flexible, take them out of the bath, drain and cool. Remove from the bags and cut into serving portions. Toss with your choice of glazes and finish under the broiler (for crispy fat) or in a hot saute pan (for more even glazing).

Not disturbing it is not a problem for the time being. I got called out of town, and decided just to leave the experiment in place. I may come back to a couple of solid blocks of sugar, which would be fine, as I suspect that MelissaH is correct -- that the crystallization process will force out the smoke particles. I'll just remelt it, dilute it a bit and add some over-proof rum for preservation -- make syrups, in other words. When I took those two skewers out to photograph them, I snatched a bit of each for tasting purposes. Unlike the straight sugar, which had a nice smoky aftertaste, this seemed like plain old rock candy. But it was a small sample, and I could be wrong. I'm fine if I end up with pure crystals. Smoked sugar and smoked sugar syrup alone have some interesting possibilities, and hey -- what's wrong with rock candy?

What Tracey said. I often see these in liquor stores, high-end groceries and, of all places, TJ Maxx and the like. When I was a kid, you could buy Coca-Cola syrup at the drug store as a remedy for stomach ailments. Maybe you still can? ETA: depending on where you are, there might be an independent bottler who makes private-label soft drinks. They'd be more approachable than one of the huge mass-market bottlers.

I love my Bradley smoker. Over time, however, I've had to acknowledge its shortcomings when it comes to cold smoking. Primary among these is its propensity to generate too much heat, even when the heater is off. This is no doubt a result of a design compromise: the simplicity of the Bradley pretty much demands an internal heat source for the bisquettes. Unfortunately, this means that the bottom rack can get pretty hot. In the cooler months (and even early summer), this isn't too much of a problem. You rotate your racks, so nothing gets overexposed to the heat, or if your product is sensitive, you don't use the bottom rack. I've tried loading the bottom rack with ice; unfortunately, this can create condensation on your product, depending on atmospheric conditions. Wet meat doesn't smoke very well. I can deal with all of this, until the ambient temperature gets into the 90s. The bit of heat that the bisquette cooker adds sends the chamber temperature over 100 F, a point at which it's hard to make a "cold-smoking" claim. You're getting uncomfortably close to cooking. Here's my solution: a wardrobe box, a couple of dryer vents (get the louvered kind rather than the ones with a flap), a length of vent hose and (what would a project be without this?) a roll of duct tape. My topic description lies; you also need a good pair of scissors. The nice thing about the wardrobe box is that it comes with an access flap already cut for you. This lets you maintain the bisquette stack and discard bowl without taking the box off the smoke generator (which, in case it's not obvious) you remove from the side of the Bradley). Let's call this the prototype, since I can already see a lot of room for improvement. First, the thing leaks. I spent the first hour closing up creases and slits. Second, the smoke generator box is now the thing that gets hot, and our friend duct tape doesn't much care for heat. Also, the box is bigger than the Bradley itself. I have no idea where I'm going to store it. Finally, it seems obvious that you could cool the smoke further by routing the tubing through an ice- or dry ice-filled chest. All in all, though, I'm very happy. The smoke chamber is stable at 85 F, more or less ambient temperature.

It started with a conversation I had at Tales of the Cocktail. A barkeep was talking about how smoke flavor might be added to a cocktail, and proceeded to describe a process that involved alcohol and bacon (who among us wouldn't prick up their ears?) and a sad denouement of irreducible pork fat. I suggested smoking sugar; he replied, "Great idea! Let me know when you've got some!" I haven't sent him his share yet, but I dropped some off with a local chef, who's using it as a finish for a watermelon salad. Not much to see, really. I didn't take photos of the smoking itself -- one thing in a Bradley smoker looks pretty much like another. But here's the stuff before the session. One quart each white and turbinado double syrups; one pound good-old Domino brown, and 1-1/2 pounds Domino white. I stirred the syrups and raked the sugars every 45 minutes, rotating the racks at the same time. Here's the candy as it looks now. As you can see, it's not having much trouble crystallizing at the bottom of the jar, so maybe I've also got a seeding problem.

I'm not convinced about this inversion business. I realize that fructose and glucose are reluctant to crystallize, though I think it's more accurate to say that they form smaller crystals than sucrose (which might account for the small crystals I'm getting). I also understand that simply heating a sugar solution can cause inversion, though andiesenji's and SundaySous's recipes (not mention this one, this one and this one) call for substantial cooking. This one calls for repeated heating. If heat was the issue, it seems to me that none of these recipes would work, though I acknowledge that none of them suggest 100 F for eight hours. But alanamoana's and Kerry's suggestions did make me think. Rather than slow heat, it's more common to add an acid to sucrose to create invert sugar -- in many jams and jellies, for example, invert sugar is created simply by following the recipe. On a hunch, I looked up the pH of woodsmoke. It's 2.5! (For comparison, lemon juice is 2.3.) So, exposure to an acidic compound plus long, low heat might explain what's going (or rather, not going) on. On the other hand, I've uncovered the jars, and things are speeding up a bit, so maybe that was a big part of the problem.

Well, it's humid here, but we've got air conditioning (as the incessant thrum of compressors reminds us; we're in a serious heat wave here). I admit to using sealed containers, and I've released the lids. But I agree with Steven that evaporation, per se, isn't directly germane. I suspect that evaporation simply allows the solution to reach super-saturation (the state that andiesendi starts with). This must be the point at which crystals precipitate with abandon. SundaySous's suggestion of heating the solution to a specific point is intriguing; perhaps conversion would have a salubrious effect. As for process, I admit to some misdirection. After creating the syrups (which I did by applying just enough heat to allow the sugar to dissolve), I set them in a smoker and let them bathe in applewood smoke for eight hours. The temperature never exceeded 100 F. I doubt that this has anything to do with the problems I'm having, but I mention it justin case. My formula: 24 ounces of sugar (by weight; it's about 3-1/4 C by volume) + 12 ounces of water (by volume). This makes about a quart of syrup. The containers are six-cup mason-type jars (rubber seals and lever-closures).

The most accessible resource is right here on eG Forums, in the Cooking (or curing) from "Charcuterie" topic. The book referenced in the topic title is by Brian Polcyn and Michael Ruhlman (here's a link to buy it). The topic is long, enthusiastic and wide-ranging, as you'll see. I suggest that you get the book and try a few things (possible recipes: hot-smoked duck ham; duck prosciutto; roasted duck roulade; duck sausage with sage and roasted garlic). Check out the "Charcuterie" topic for more ideas. Then post your experiences right here, and we can discuss and dissect, and you can figure out where to go next.

The salads are a great idea, and so are the foil-wrapped desserts. Some teens like to play with fire, and some don't; some have gone vegetarian; some are just learning to be great carnivores. I'd get maybe three racks of baby back ribs, some boneless, skinless chicken breasts and a bunch of raw shrimp. While you're at it, grab some cherry tomatoes, some bell peppers and some mushrooms. Also, make sure you have a few sets of tongs. Cook the ribs in the oven the day before: brine for three hours, then roast at 250 for four hours or so. Cool and cut the racks into two- or three-rib portions. Brine the chicken for three hours, then cut into chunks. Peel the shrimp and brine for 30 minutes. Make a good barbecue sauce for the ribs. An hour before the kids arrive, make skewers of the shrimp, and another set of skewers with chicken, using your assorted vegetables for both. Make a few that are just vegetables. Marinate all of them in a vinaigrette, or even a decent bottled Italian dressing. Let the kids do their own grilling of the three items, under your supervision. Brining mitigates overcooking, so you don't have to be meticulous with the timing, and that lets you have fun. The chicken and shrimp can be mixed into the salads, too, so there are a number of potential make-it-yourself meals.

I've got two batches of rock candy in the works. Well, I think I do. My friends derive great amusement from my usually obsessive pre-project research. In this case, however, I just relied on memory. I made two syrups. Both are 2:1 sugar to water (by volume); one is white cane sugar and the other is turbinado. I dampened some skewers and rolled them in sugar, in order to seed them, then slid them (five each) into the syrups. Six days later, I am disappointed in my crystal crop -- I've got an eighth of an inch at best. I might be in danger of becoming the first person in the history of the universe to fail at making rock candy. Do I need more patience? Do I need to start over? If the latter, what should I do differently?

Congratulations to the team! Chef, maybe you could tell us a bit more about the school, the program and the competition?

I'm not sure how this "winery direct" strategy will work here. As I understand Georgia law, you can't offer wine (I'm not sure about beer or spirits) on an exclusive basis at retail -- in other words, you aren't allowed to sell it unless all other retailers have reasonable access to the product as well. At least, this was the explanation offered when Trader Joe's opened a few months ago without Two-Buck Chuck. Distribution arrangements had to be made so that any retailer could get the wine at a fair price before Trader Joe's could put it on their shelves. As a result, you can buy Two-Buck Chuck all over the city (for $3). (Whether this is a good thing or a bad thing is open to debate -- on another topic, please). I can think of a couple of ways to imply some sort of exclusivity, even though it isn't technically true. However, the flyer I mentioned in my opening post doesn't say a word about it. They just tout their selection (750 chardonnays; 100 cabernets; 500 merlots; etc., and seem to have a special program for good value (high ratings, under $15, e.g.) wines. The next time I'm nearby, I'll stop in and spend more time in the wine section.

If you get the Atlanta Journal-Constitution (and actually read it), you would have found it hard to miss the Total Wine & More flyer that's accompanied it at least once a week for the last month. I took part of an afternoon last week to check it out; my impressions follow. It's got a Kennesaw address, but I suspect that's just another of those Atlanta-area post-office quirks. In any case, it's less than a mile west of I-75 at Barrett Parkway. For those familiar with the Town Center/Barrett Pavillion/Cobb Place area, TW&M occupies the former Media Play space. Kennesaw or not, if you go at the right time of day, it's not a terrible drive. From where I live, which is just west of Sandy Springs, TW&M is just as easy to get to as Tower or Pearson's, and a much shorter and less trying jaunt than Toco Giant, which I consider the equal of those two. (If you're a cocktail afficianado in Atlanta, you do a lot of ingredient commuting.) It's huge (which, if you were familiar with Media Play, you already knew). It's the size of a suburban Best Buy -- or the Target next store (comparison for non-Atlantans: it's at least three times the size of the SF BevMo on Bayshore, and easily six times the size of Astor Wine & Spirits in Manhattan -- though TW&M carries beer, wine and spirits, as well as mixers). About half of the space is taken up with wine. I like wine, and know my way around the major regions and varieties, but I don't know much about prices and availability. I did notice a decent selection of dry roses -- a sign, to me at least, of an inventory that might be a cut above average. I hope a real wine person can get out there and provide a better report. Likewise, I'm not a beer person, but I've seen the selection at Taco Mac and the like, and the floor and cooler space devoted to beers and ales at TW&M seems on a par with that sort of accessibility. If you're into hard cider, the place is worth checking out -- they have at least ten different brands. The liquor selection is a mixed bag. The prices, for the most part, are terrific. Here's a few examples (all 750s, except where noted): Cazadores Blanco -- $23 El Tesoro Blanco -- $30 Milagro Silver -- $20 Patron Silver -- $33 Boodles -- $18.50 Citadelle -- $16.50 Plymouth -- $15.50 Boomsma -- $20 Beefeater (1.75L) -- $23 Tanqueray (1.75L) -- $29 Flor de Cana (white) -- $12 Mount Gay Eclipse -- $22 Landy -- $14 Dewar's (1.75L) -- $30 Famous Grouse (1.75L) -- $25 Teacher's -- $13 Luxardo Maraschino -- $22 Campari -- $24 Cointreau -- $27 Grand Marnier -- $30 The not-so-great news: while there are some tough to-find things (like Aperol, Maraschino, Boomsma and 750s of Teacher's), the selection is, like at most liquor stores, idiosyncratic. The only Marie Brizard product is Anisette (Jax in Sandy Springs is easily your best bet for MB triple sec and Apry, though not curacao); the only bitters available are Angostura; Old Overholt and Michter's are the lonely representatives for rye (other than the Buckhead/Midtown Tower, this is the only place I've seen Michter's -- unless they also have it at Mac's; I can't remember); the rum selection teeters too far toward Bacardi and flavored options. Finally, the Applejack is tucked away among the cordials. It's not worth hauling your butt out to Kennesaw (or whatever that part of the 'burbs is really called) for a six pack or a bottle of red for tonight's dinner. But if you can coordinate a decently-sized shopping list, TW&M will save you a fair amount of money. Finally, if you hang around Buckhead, you might have noticed that both Pearson's and Tower are in the midst of significant expansions (this morning's AJC front section also included a full-page ad for Tower, a rare occurrence). I doubt that these expansions and the opening of TW&M are coincidental. Let's hope the competition results in better stores and selections all over town.

Two pockets: one for a thermometer; one for a Sharpie (if there's not one right at hand, whatever unlucky item I'm putting in the freezer won't get named and dated). More than pockets, though, I need an apron that will put itself on me, lest I ruin yet another shirt in my haste to make dinner. Does Martha have a pattern for that?

A number of shrimp varieties have claws, but you don't usually see them among the edible catch.

I can't direct you to a trove of Pleasures of Cooking back issues, but I can invite you to the fan club. Back in April 2005, Maggie McArthur sang its praises in her Daily Gullet article "Man, Machine, Magazine": Read the whole wonderful thing, as well as the lively discussion it whizzed up, here.

Um. There were four cocktails at the applejack seminar (no wonder we can't remember). We had the aforementioned Jack Rose and Marconi Wireless -- and the Golden Dawn (an equal-parts drink): applejack gin apricot brandy orange juice and the Wicked Kiss: 1 oz. applejack 1 oz. rye 1/4 oz. yellow Chartreuse 1/4 oz. Benedictine dash Angostura bitters The latter was the one served in the champagne flute -- I suppose because, as Gary Regan said in the 2004 eG Q&A, he simply dislikes cocktail glasses.

The other day, a chef and I were watching a novice cook struggle with quenelles. The chef was making almost imperceptible hand motions, extending some psychic assistance. Then he, like Nicole, asserted that the only trick that worked was old-fashioned practice. He advised the trainee: "Get yourself a spoon, a big tub of Cool Whip and a six-pack of beer. Put a soccer game on TV and just make quenelles all afternoon. That's how I learned." He turned to me. "Didn't you ever do that? Just make quenelles all day?"

Chad Solomon and Christy Pope also handled the applejack seminar, this time accompanied by Ted Haigh and Gary Regan. We were also graced with the presence of Lisa Laird, vice-president of the company that bears her name. The presentation covered a fair amount of history, highlighted by archive photos of old bottles and labels, the production process and Laird & Company's Prohibition and war-time activities. Though applejack might not be thought of these days as a hard-core spirit, this wasn't always true. For much of the 18th and 19th centuries, applejack and hard cider were the drink of choice in the colonies and the US. During Prohibition, Laird & Company had a federal license to produce product for medicinal purposes. Consequently, they were also the first to return to legal production. Laird's then set about buying up lesser-quality producers in order to preserve the reputation of the spirit (not to mention the company). Laird's now produces 95+% of the applejack/apple brandy sold in the US. (This medicinal use still persists in parts of New Jersey and Pennsylvania.) As part of their dilution step, Laird & Company adds apple wine. This accounts, at least in part, for the product's intense flavor. There is no longer a Scobeyville, NJ, though there is a post office with that name. It serves the company exclusively, and a family member is the postmaster. Lisa added immeasurably to the discussion with bits of history and little-known facts, as well as some honest talk about distribution issues, especially regarding the bonded product (Sam Kinsey got a nice shout-out from Chad, for his part in bringing the product to NYC). Ted told a great story (detailed elsewhere, but better when heard in Ted's voice) about a phone conversation with Larry Laird, and both Ted and Gary emphasized the versatility of the spirit, saying that you could take almost any cocktail recipe and substitute the base spirit with applejack. Then they proved it with the Marconi Wireless: 1-3/4 oz. applejack 3/4 oz. sweet vermouth 2 dashes orange bitters As Ted pointed out, the name alone dates the recipe (Marconi's first success was in 1897), but proves the point nevertheless. This being a 10 am seminar (the night after the "spirited dinners"), attendance was off a bit, which was unfortunate. It did, however, mean bigger cocktail portions -- a mixed blessing, as I can remember the Marconi Wireless and the Jack Rose, but not the third . . . Congratulations and thanks to Christy Pope and Chad Solomon for two great sessions.

Or 18 pairs from Amazon (here). Unfortunately, you rarely see them traveling in smaller packs; I don't think Libbey packages them for retail. I can vouch for the glass itself, though: a good compromise between elegance, sturdiness and mass. It's also a rare example (in my experience, anyway) of a mass-produced cocktail glass that's a proper size.