Dave the Cook

Aviation 2 ounces gin 0.5 ounces Maraschino liqueur 0.5 ounces lemon juice It's one of those classics that I'd never heard of it before jumping into the Cocktails forum. The garnish is two of these, a jar of which I got as a present. The glasses are cool, aren't they? (thanks, btw) They're out of an impulse-buy travel kit, as is the pick. I'm not sure anything else in the kit is going to last -- we'll find out when I go to Tampa a little later in the blog -- but the glasses were worth the price of admission.

That looks great. I've made this. It's really good. No eggs in gratin. It seems like cheating, doesn't it? On the other hand, I was on AIM last night with someone who wanted an egg roll seemigly as much as I wanted bacon. Now I want to invent a bacon and egg roll. Not the kind that cheats by using scrambled eggs, but something you could pull from the deep fryer, break open and have a lovely yolk come oozing out, surrounded, maybe, by strips of bacon. Call me crazy (pause). Any ideas on how to do this? As for dinner tonight, since we seem to have beef on the brain, I'm thinking of combining it with Abra's suggestion of something spicy. Maybe Paul Prudhomme's Cajun prime rib? If I got a skinny, two-inch standing rib, could I manage it without pushing dinner back to 11:00 pm?

At least it kept me occupied! Here's last night's cocktail, an Aviation: The mental flakiness that Susan and Marlene were reporting yesterday hit me last night, starting about here. Note that I didn't bother to let the glass clear so that you could see the Toschi cherry garnish, and though I managed to crop most of it out, you'd think I'd know by now to clean the cutting board before taking a picture. Let's not even start on that humongous shadow. So, first thing to go: food styling skills. I take that back. (Second thing to go: sequential reasoning.) The first thing was shopping acumen. I didn't lose it all, but I was sufficiently confused that instead of heading to one of the amazing Asian food megamarts (here, instead of small markets, we get our Asian groceries from stores in buildings abandoned by Kmart after Wal0Mart and Target put them out of business. I'll try to get by for some pictures tomorrow), I stopped at the Publix on the way home. Not a fatal mistake, unless paying $4.65 for a can of straw mushrooms is akin to a death blow, but still, not a smart move when you're making Chinese scallops and snow peas. On the other hand, I had counted on speed-thawing the excellent IQF scallops that Publix carries, so I rationlized the $4.65 as the cost of not having to make an extra stop. Of course, I couldn't find them. The neighborhood where this store is located has a different demographic from the one hear home, so I considered the possibility that this store didn't carry them. And yet, when I strolled by the fish counter (which I had avoided, because while they do well on some things, the scallop offering is usually limited to $18 a pound wet sea scallops and calicos labeled as bays), I saw a sign that said "Sale: Sea Scallops/$10.99 (previously frozen). This was great. Not only on sale, but thawed for my cooking pleasure. Right next to these moist pink-ivory pillows were the usual snow-white soakers -- a perfect picture of good scallop/bad scallop. Cool, I thought, a nice educational moment for the blog. But alas, I'd forgotten my camera. Third thing to go -- or was it fourth? -- memory. Of course, they weren't completely thawed. I winced as the fish guy pried the icy mass apart. He finally managed to assemble twelve ounces of semi-frozen, untorn scallops for me. I asked if they had the bags of IQF in the store, since from the look of what I was buying, I was pretty sure all Publix had done was rip open a few bags of the retail pack into a dish. "Sure," he said, and pointed, his finger draped with the sticky printed price tag, to an open cooler I'd walked past three times. Fourth thing: hunting acumen. I think the cooking thing is still viable, but those of you more familiar with the dish in particular or Cantonese cooking in general will know better. Scallops and snow peas: I do have a couple of questions: What is "velveting"? Is it me, or does Chinese cooking not have a middle sort-of heat? I guess I mean this in two ways. First, the dishes seem to be either delicate or screechingly spicy; and you have soprano heat like ginger and chiles, but there doesn't seem to be anything like the baritone of black pepper, which I thought really improved this dish. Am I just uneducated? Next to go (five) was sense of proportion, though it seems to be offset by a certain esp-like synchonicity. Once I got through my struggles with Microsoft, I was either hungry or wanting a cigarette; I couldn't tell. Rather than concentrate on the latter, I went to the pantry. In anticipation of quitting smoking, I had loaded up on sweets: Tootsie Roll Pops, bubble gum, just about anything that would take long enough to consume to get past the urge to smoke. I didn't want any of those things, though. I wanted salty and crunchy -- popcorn, potato chips, Fritos, a stale pita with a sprinkling of Morton's finest -- and I came up empty. Then my brain took a turn, as for so many of us here, it often does, to bacon. I wanted bacon. About a pound of it, fried up crisp and smoky. I could eat it all. Shit. I'd used the last of it in the kale the night before. Gnashing, I launched Firefox to check the blog. What do I find? Susan not only wants bacon, she also forgot to replenish. Interesting. Even more so, though I seriously considered going out at two in the morning to bring home the bacon, it didn't occur to me to run out for cigarettes -- something I've done more than a few times in my life. When I got into work this morning, I related all of this to Delores -- shopping miscues, the photo errors, the porky jones. She replied, "You seem normal to me." Sigh. One more thing gone. Six: objectivity.

I apologize for my absence last night -- I had a little disagreement with Microsoft: I wanted to blog, and it thought I should reinstall Windows. (Guess who won.) Before I say anything else: I'm really proud of you guys for getting back on track, and I'm grateful for the support of everyone cheering us along.

So far, so good. I've been too busy to get cranky. In past attempts, though, the third day has been when I've hit the wall, so watch out. Weight gain is not yet an issue either, since I didn't even have time for lunch. I did, however, indulge in the salty-crunchy thing, and I am consuming a vending-machine bag of Munchos, which are superior to Fritos. They're 12-1/2% more expensive, but since I've saved $14 in the last two days, I figure I can splurge. I might even have a second bag. As much as I like saying ma po tofu, it didn't gain any traction as a dinner candidate. Looks like Sauteed Scallop with Snowpeas for me.

I just had (another) apple -- a pretty nice Golden Delicious. Last night, I picked up several different varieties: Jonagold, Fuji, Gala, Braeburn. I've never been able to distinguish much difference among most apples. To me they come in three versions: sour, okay and too sweet. Though it's probably too early for this test, I'm hoping that my taste will come back sufficiently for me to appreciate the subtleties. But now, in addition to a cigarette, I want one of Marlene's bagels. Does anyone know where pink/red grapefruits came from? Were they whites that were bred for pink, or are they a truly separate variety? And more important, is anyone growing whites? I never see them anymore.

I also slept extremely well -- right through the alarm clock. As a result, nothing but coffee so far, and I'm so busy that smoking isn't an issue yet. The panic from having to rush through the morning routine, and hoping I can slip into my cubicle without anyone noticing my tardiness, has been plenty of stimulation.

Nicotine is not the problem. Though it's an extremely powerful drug, the physical addiction is pretty weak. After all, smokers go through a five-to-eight hour withdrawal every night, and it doesn't wake them up. Compare that to heroin withdrawal, where the physical manifestation is severe. Having said that, I think you ought to use whatever works.

I'm not sure if it's simply replacing one obsession with another, but I find myself with an embarrasingly detailed photo account of a very simple dinner. Like the short temper of a recently reformed addcit, you'll just have to endure it. First was cocktail hour: Applecart 2 ounces Laird's applejack 1 ounce triple sec 0.75 ounce lemon juice, plus lemon carcass mixture of 2 parts sugar to 1 part cinnamon thin apple wedge Rub the lemon carcass around the rim of a cocktail glass. Roll the rim in the sugar-cinnamon mixture. Put the glass in the freezer to chill. Dip the fine edge of the apple wedge in the sugar-cinnamon mixture, so you get a thin stripe. Set aside while you mix the drink. Combine the applejack, triple sec and lemon juice in a cocktail shaker and shake. Strain into the chilled glass. Garnish with the apple slice. Unfortunately, the camera corrupted the picture, but one glistening brown cocktail looks pretty much like another. The garnish is cool, though. Since I didn't get home until a little after 1900, I started dinner while we talked and sipped. The menu was: - pot-roast sandwiches with beef-horseradish mayonnaise - deep-fried red potatoes - kale in smoked pork stock First, the beef. This was leftover from Monday dinner. Braised chuck straight from the refrigerator isn't all that appetizing, and frankly, not as tasty or toothsome as it could be: We can fix this. Luckily, I had a decent amount of liquid left from the braise (the roast had been simmered in beef stock, reduced Worcestershire, trinity, garlic, thyme and bay. Oh, and a little browned tomato paste): I melted it in the microwave. A bit was ladled over the (trimmed) beef slices and set to warm: The rest was reduced for the mayonnaise (recipe here; I made about a 1/3-sized batch). The rest is pretty straighforward. Prep the potatoes -- meaning quarter some small reds: As you can see, these have some age on them. When deep frying high-moisture potatoes, older is better. They go into what I call the small-batch fryer (the large-batch version is a big pot) at 350F for seven minutes: Salt them, and keep warm. There's no real crispness to them, so it's not a big deal to do them early in the final prep sequence. There are two big advantages to these, though. First, they're really easy (and go well dipped in the mayo). Second, the quick cooking brings out a sweetness that I don't seem to be able to raise with any other treatment. I didn't have any smoked pork stock -- the last of that was gone by Christmas -- so I simmered the trimmed kale in a quart of chicken stock seasoned with two slices of bacon and a good shot of Tabasco sauce. Assemble the sandwich: mayo, with some horseradish stirred in, on toasted rolls (my toaster isn't as cool as Marlene's, but it does have a "bagel" setting that lets you toast only one side). These are "French hamburger rolls" from Publix, a regional chain. It's the best bread their bakery puts out. Leaf lettuce and tomato (carefully tended "on the vine" types, also from Publix): Dinner:

Brooks is very discreet with his makeup.

Can someone fill Marlene in on blanching while Susan brushes and I drive home? Thanks a bunch.

There you go, partner: Tag Team Asparagus 1 pound asparagus, trimmed and cut into 1" diagonal pieces 1-2 T vegetable oil 1 t sesame seeds 3 cloves of garlic, minced 2 t soy sauce 1/2 t lemon juice 1 t toasted sesame oil pinch sugar 1. Blanch the asparagus briefly in salted water. Shock with ice water, drain thoroughly. Can be put in a ziplock in the fridge until ready to cook. 2. Heat a skillet over medium high heat. Toast sesame seeds, remove. 3. Add vegetable oil to skillet, heat until very hot. Add garlic, and asparagus. Add soy and pinch of sugar. 4. Remove from heat and toss with lemon juice, sesame oil and the sesame seeds. 5. Taste and adjust seasonings. You get to put it in RecipeGullet, though.

3 cloves of garlic, minced 2 t. soy sauce pinch sugar And, the asparagus should be trimmed and cut into 1" diagonal pieces ← 1/2 t. lemon juice Blanch the asparagus? If so, is the water salted or unsalted? A little sesame oil?

So maybe we can just make up a recipe for Marlene on the spot. I'll start, and people can add on ingredients and techniques until we're done: Marlene's Stir-fried Asparagus 1 pound asparagus, trimmed 1 tsp. sesame seeds, toasted . . .

Ditalini? ← Yeah, that looks right. Thanks!

I remember agreeing to quit smoking, but I don't recall a commitment to eat well, so you'll have to forgive this post its lack of haute appeal. The thing is, between blogging and business pressures, there's not a lot of time to run out for lunch this week, and I neglected to pack a lunch for today. At times like this, I dig into my emergency soup supply, which I just happened to have replenished last weekend, thanks to a 4/$5 deal at Publix. So without further apology, Dave's lunch: That's not all, of course. Days like this also call for a vending-machine supplement, which also gives me a chance to flash a southern icon, the Lance cracker pack. Of course, if you're going to eat processed food without even having a chance to doctor it on the stove, the least you can do is serve it up pretty. Here's the whole deal (I do not endorse Aquafina, but I like the bottle. That's tap water): Oh look! Another apple! Not bad. I have no idea what Italian-Style Wedding soup with meatballs is supposed to taste like, so it may or may not have been a faithful version. I have to say that the meatballs were an odd color -- sort of pinky gray: That's pretty much the whole soup in one spoonful: carrot, meatballs, herbage, pasta -- what is that shape called? Bucatini?

It's already clear that there will be two danger zones for me: the work commute and the late night. The latter might be easy -- one thing I've noticed is the absence of nicotine stimulation. I'm rarely sleepy at this time of day, but today I am. Coffee consumption is up. I used to get halfway through a cup, then hit the parking lot for a smoke. By the time I got back, the coffee was cold, so I'd get a refill. All told, I probably drank six half-cups a day in this manner. I'm at three full cups already. For the commute, I sliced up an apple and took it with me, figuring that was a reasonable replacement in size and in occupation of hands and mouth. It was, but I finished it about halfway to work (it's a 40-minute drive). Tomorrow, two apples, or a carrot-stick supplement. Or I'll eat more slowly. I've noticed that none of the three of us is a regular breakfast eater. I wonder if that's coincidence or the result of smoking; I also wonder if it will change.

I've been using dijon mustard lately, too. I picked this up from Fine Cooking, I think: skip the blanching, and toss the trimmed beans in a big saute pan with some olive oil or butter, over medium-high heat. Toss, but not too often. When they've picked up some color, add some liquid -- stock or wine (vermouth has been my favorite), or a combination. You don't need a lot, just enough to cover the bottom of the pan by a few millimeters. Lid on, and steam for a few minutes, until the liquid is gone and the beans are tender. Off the heat, add a little mustard and a squirt of lemon juice. Also, Marlene, I know you like to freeze super-reduced stock in cubes. If you're feeling decadent -- and this week seems reasonable for an indulgence -- this is a good time to use a cube. Toss it in the pan and swirl it around -- a nice umami glaze to finish. ← Ok now this sounds interesting. Beef or chicken stock? I've got both. and how's your day going anyway? ← Chicken stock. ← For the steaming portion, definitely. For the stock-cube finish, I've only used chicken, but I'm not sure it matters. At that concentration, it seems to me that you just get "meat" rather than a specific species. But that could be my tar-covered taste buds talking.

I've been using dijon mustard lately, too. I picked this up from Fine Cooking, I think: skip the blanching, and toss the trimmed beans in a big saute pan with some olive oil or butter, over medium-high heat. Toss, but not too often. When they've picked up some color, add some liquid -- stock or wine (vermouth has been my favorite), or a combination. You don't need a lot, just enough to cover the bottom of the pan by a few millimeters. Lid on, and steam for a few minutes, until the liquid is gone and the beans are tender. Off the heat, add a little mustard and a squirt of lemon juice. Also, Marlene, I know you like to freeze super-reduced stock in cubes. If you're feeling decadent -- and this week seems reasonable for an indulgence -- this is a good time to use a cube. Toss it in the pan and swirl it around -- a nice umami glaze to finish.

Dude. This is so cool.

There are all kinds of food issues related to smoking, and weight gain is probably foremost among them. I've not paid much attention to weight since I was in fifth grade, 5'4", 160 pounds. At 18, I was 5'10", 150 pounds (no, not because of smoking; that didn't come for another three years). The point is that I haven't weighed myself since then. Even at medical check-ups, I didn't pay attention, because it wasn't an issue. But I weighed myself this afternoon, just for the record: a hair short of 6'0", 180 pounds. We'll see what happens, but I'm with you, Sandy. At this point, I'd rather be an overweight nonsmoker than a thin guy with a persistent jones. (Now consuming a personal pack of Pop-Secret and a small glass of merlot, water back.)

Well . . . Some of us need more practice than others. I am certainly in that camp. ← Me, too. This is my fourth or fifth try. Both of us should be pretty good at it by now.

First?

I want a cigarette. But I'm not going to have one.

PTFE was invented (perhaps discovered is a more apt word) in 1938, so it's hardly a new technology. It's used in hundreds of products that have nothing to do with cooking or eating (including desktop computers, I might add), and the number of applications is growing steadily. We ought to protect our health and our environment, but the factual evidence that PTFE-coated cookware -- when properly used -- is in and of itself harmful to people is so thin that you could easily argue that dietary fat is more dangerous. (Not that I'm about to -- that's another case of too much noise and too little information.)