Dave the Cook

KA has a great online archive of product literature in PDF format -- I found not just the manual, but the installation instructions, for my 20-year old range in a matter of minutes. Here's where: KA catalog search Note the box at the right for finding older models. Also note that you do not have to join the site to get this information.

Do you have a more "specific" address, I tried what you gave in your quote, as well as googling and no luck. Movable Feast, Diary of an Itinerant Chef I think the relevant entries are in September.

Dude. You go to Peter Luger, and you have a burger? . . . the burger is only available for lunch anyway . . . So you can't get it as a dinner app. Damn.

OK, I could see it as an appetizer.

Dude. You go to Peter Luger, and you have a burger?

I think the only thing you shouldn't do in advance is the final topping, or any part of the topping that includes cheese or breadcrumbs; they'll just get soggy, and will have trouble getting properly brown. For the rest of it, I don't think it matters. Just take it out of the refrigerator in plenty of time to let it come to room temperature before you put it in the oven.

I had the same thought as Susan about the sink, but it looks like you've put a prep sink in the counter by the range. Also, I'm not religious about the triangle concept -- the result, I suppose, of having worked in so many kitchens that didn't employ it. Beyond that, all I have to say at the moment is, "At last! Someone with a decent budget!"

Every A-Frame had your number on the wall You must have had it all You'd go to LA on a dare And you'd go it alone Could you live forever? Could you see the day? Could you feel your whole world fall apart and fade away? (- Donald Fagen) Nice piece, Brooks (and I don't mean the hair).

A whole lot easier than my method, too -- and maybe a good reason for me to finally break down and get a panini press?

Your wish, Lily, etcetera, etc . . .

At the late, lament Blais restaurant (thread here), they served a dollop of chicken cream gravy, dotted with bits of pickled greens, and a garnish of flat, fried chicken skin. When I needed a garnish for the molten masher muffins I made for Thanksgiving, I decided that this was the thing. As anyone who's made rilettes, rendered fat from any sort of animal skin, or simply cooked a rasher of bacon knows, the propensity for tissue to shrivel up as the proteins tighten is the natural path -- that's why someone invented the bacon press. For all I know, Blais used a bacon press for what appeared to be a piece of skin taken from the thigh. But I had a bigger problem, literally. I had the skin of a 12-pound turkey in three pieces: breast and two leg quarters. Even if I managed to keep them flat, I would encounter shrinkage. I was determined to keep the pieces intact, and trim them out afterwards. I don't have a bacon press in the first place, but even if I did, the size and shape wouldn't work. Also, in order to render a uniformly cooked product, even heat would be an issue, and I didn't have a deep fryer or saute pan large enough to hold the skin flat (and I had no idea how to do that in a deep fryer, anyway). So, I needed a large flat surface with a uniform heat source. Sheet pan, oven. How to keep the skin flat? Another sheet pan? Worth a try. After a bit more theorizing (you don't want to hear, trust me) and a little testing, here's how it worked: Line a sheet pan with heavy-duty aluminum foil. Put it in the oven, and pour 1/8-inch of oil (I used peanut) in it. Turn the oven on to 360 F. Give it a good long time to heat up -- at least ten minutes past the time when the oven says its reached temperature (ovens have cold spots, and you want to make sure the entire cavity is heated, and the oil is up to temperature). While things are heating up, line the underside of another sheet pan with foil, and brush it liberally with more oil. Stretch the skin across the surface, as flat as possible: I'd prefer not to use cold oil here, but it has two benefits: it keeps the skin from sticking; at the same time, when cold, the skin adheres to it. This is crucial for the next step. When you're sure the oil is up to temperature, carefully slide the oven rack out. Turn the pan with the skin on it upside down, and press it into the oil-filled pan: Make sure the pans are engaged evenly, and slide the assembly back into the oven. Leave it alone for 25 minutes. Carefully pull up a corner of the top pan to check for doneness. Depending on how brown you want it, it will take between 25 and 35 minutes. The skin will darken and crisp up further upon setting, so take it out just before you think it's done, or you won't be able to trim it later -- it will shatter unevenly. Also, lacquer-hard turkey skin is not as pleasant as skin with a tiny bit of flexibility to it, but that's my taste. (It's possible that different types of skin will take different times, but I haven't tested this.) The finished product -- yes, those are the same pieces; the shrinkage is considerable: For best flavor, salt and pepper them as soon as they're out of the oil. They will stay crisp at room temperature for at least several hours, and possibly a couple of days, if duck rillettes are any indication. A sharp pair of scissors are the best tool for trimming to the desired shape. A couple of things I'd like to try: - different poultry skins, especially duck or goose, of course - a light dusting of flour, which would (I hope) impart a fried-chicken texture, but might simply burn, instead Some people like thin (or thick) slices of breast, some like a Fred Flintstone-sized drumstick to gnaw on. For my money, though, the best part of the turkey is the skin, and it gets portioned out in an undemocratic fashion. With this technique, everyone can get a fair share of perfectly cooked, crispy skin -- definitely something to be thankful for.

Full size Kevlar cooking gloves are pretty pricey, but these glove liners fit the bill for cool, and would be great if you've got recipients that do a lot of shucking. And don't forget welder's gloves for your BBQing friends. Edit: I spoke to soon. Just found these: Ove Gloves

I faced something of a challenge this Thanksgiving: a menu featuring traditional ingredients, but presented to a number of folks who had already been through the usual menu (at least they got a day's break; my holiday dinner was on Friday). Still, the rest of us wanted turkey, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes -- the real deal. My first stop was at Sam Kinsey's blog, where I snatched half of his recipe for Turkey Two Ways. I braised the dark meat, but the roasted breast wouldn't do, since my diners had had it the day before. The rest of Sam's menu, while ingenious and sophisticated, deviated too far from standard issue to suit the crowd I was feeding. My search for alternatives led me to this thread, started by maggiethecat, where mashed potatoes are transformed into light, airy madeleines. Guajolote subsequently substituted muffin tins for madeleine molds. I tested the recipe myself, and in turning out the muffins, I was struck by the similarity to the common (and still excellent) dessert known as chocolate lava muffins (among other things). An idea was born. Could I somehow get gravy inside a mashed-potato muffin? Turns out the answer was yes, and the dish was a success, although it still needs some work. Here's how to do it: From Maggie's post: I made a batch of mashed potatoes (I added a bit of flour in addition to the eggs, because it was a pretty loose batch), and chilled them while I prepared the pan. But instead of just filling them up, I stopped at 2/3 full, and put them in the freezer for 30 minutes. I took them out and made a hollow in the potatoes: For a standard-sized muffin cup, a round teaspoon was the right size and shape for the indentation. Dipping the spoon in warm water between each muffin helped keep the indentations smooth. If I did this again, I'd leave the potatoes in the freezer a little longer (maybe 45-50 minutes); the mixture was still pretty loose. On the other hand, if you leave them too long, they will freeze, and you'll have to wait a while before doing your manipulation. As it was, they went back in the freezer for another 30 minutes to firm up the indentations. I had made a batch of gravy, using proportions of 2T fat, 2T flour, 8 ounces of stock. This went into the freezer at the same time as the first chilling of the muffin cups. By the time I pulled the muffins the second time, the gravy had firmed up. Again, you can't leave it in so long that it will freeze, or you won't be able to with it. I was in something of a rush, and that's why I used the freezer. The refrigerator would surely work, if you had enough time for the gravy to chill thoroughly. I pulled the muffins and filled each indentation with one teaspoon of chilled gravy, then covered it with more mashed potatoes: Back into the freezer for 30 minutes. The only reason for leaving them in this long was to get everything to more or less the same temperature, so the assembly would cook evenly. After a dot of butter on each, they went into a 400 F convection oven for 30 minutes. I'm sorry I don't have a picture of them before turning out; they looked like miniature souffles. Here's how they turned out: They got a garnish of pressed fried turkey skin (sorry, this photo isn't very good, and was taken after the specimen had cooled, fallen, and been transferred to a melamine plate, but you get the idea): Did it work? More or less. It looked like an alternate-universe Hostess Cupcake (I'll repeat my apology for the lousy picture): Refinements: It needs more gravy. I think chilling the partially-filled muffin cup a little longer would help me make a larger indentation. However, as the gravy heats up, it won't provide much support for the muffin structure. There's probably a limit. The gravy needs to get hotter, so it flows out when the muffin is pierced. This relates to the same structural problem, though. The hotter the gravy gets, the thinner it becomes. I'm wondering if some combination of stiffer potatoes, a lower cooking temperature, and perhaps whipping the egg whites might help. Next time, turn them over, so the more attractive top side is visible. Oh, it tasted good, too.

It's installed, and no one died. Turns out it's a good, fresh range -- made in October 2004. Here, we're testing the burners:

And don't believe what's written in the breaker box. Good that you found this out early. I didn't realize mine was dysfunctional until I had moved the fridge, laid out the floor, and troweled on the adhesive. I glanced at the bucket I'd dropped the water line in, and saw the meniscus trembling above the edge of the bucket. I'm amazed and impressed that you're doing this in the midst of these parties for your mother, as well as the weekend trip and the comings and goings of the kids.

There are a number of threads about gin, so you could check them out, Marlene. But if you're expecting to be doing mostly martinis, my preference is for a good quality but traditional gin, like Beefeaters or Bombay. The menu looks great. What time am I expected?

Andie, I am hardly a poster boy for piety and clean living. I give credit for all my good fortune to those I believe are responsible: the good People of the Gullet. Thanks everyone.

The range is being delivered on Monday!

I figure Thanksgiving will give me a very good idea about whether or not it's going to work. In fact, doing all that prep in a short period might give me some specific ideas about modifications, in addition to just helping me decide whether or not I can live with it as is.

So do I level the top, or just keep expensive rugs out of the kitchen? The latter is far easier for me!

Now I really feel lazy! If I can make alternate suggestion, why not prime the crowd with pork, and have a frame-and-drywall party? (Save the beer for afterwards.) This is a much bigger job than painting a kitchen ceiling. Do your patch/test work ahead of time, and if they still have energy, enlist them in prepping the kitchen, which will take almost as long as the painting, if you have to do it yourself. Once the prep work is done, the psinting isn't too bad. Actually, it was the notion you posted elsewhere that having an oven that could go really low and steady (was it salami, or something like that?) could be very useful. Down here, with air conditioning and all, finding a place for dehydration or bread rising can be difficult. That, plus the reputation of KA as being a serious range (see "yuppie kitchen sculpture," above), kept it in my mind.Then it became a matter of, as my friend Varmint says, marginal costs. Here's how that stacked up: As of Sunday afternoon, there were three choices, plus an unknown: 1) the cosmetically damaged KA ($989); 2) the Frigidaire ($979); 3) the Kenmore ($790). The Frigidaire was eliminated when, upon careful comparison, it was revealed to be the same range as the Kenmore, less the nice warming drawer. I checked the list price on each -- KA: $1649, Kenmore: $1249. At this point, my cost (less the insurance money of $375) for the KA would be $614 + $50 (delivery) + $37 (tax) = $656; for the Kenmore -- $415 + $50 + $25 = $490. The insurance company had offered access to their discount price list, but based on the differential between the estimated cost to fix the current range ($450) and their cash offer ($375), I figured the discount was going to be about 15%, and that meant that the KA and the Kenmore I had seen at the outlet were going to be my best bets. But! Just to be able to say that I'd done my due diligence, I called the insurance company to get their prices. Needless to say, they didn't carry Kenmore. Neither did they carry Frigidaire. They carried Whirlpool, GE, and KitchenAid. Whirlpool, being part of the same conglomerate as Frigidaire, has a range that seemed to be similar to the Frigidaire, but their site is so bereft of details that I decided I didn't want to encourage them. Again, in the name of due diligence, I checked out the applicable GE models, and found them to be overpriced compared to KA, let alone Kenmore. To my considerable surprise, the delivered price on the KA, including tax, was not $1649 less 15%, plus delivery, which would have been somewhere in the neighborhood of $1540 (after delivery and tax), but $1043. When I subtracted the $375, I came to $668 -- $12 more than the damaged unit I had seen on Saturday, for a perfect new range. So the the choice was between it and the Kenmore. I went back to check the specs on the two ovens. True convection, check; two dual-sized burners, check; warming drawer, check; wait -- what the price on the KA again? $1999? When did that happen? Apparently about the time they added an integrated temperature probe, closed-door broiling, warming drawer pans and a second oven light. In other words, sometime between Saturday morning and Monday afternoon. KA also has a better warranty. All those things, plus the stuff I mentioned above (not to mention the almost visceral appeal of getting $2000 range for 600 bucks) tilted me toward the KitchenAid. C'est tout. They haven't promised pre-T-day delivery, so everyone please cross your fingers. Yes, Priscilla, the sideboard is a done deal; it's being delivered on Friday. I'm tending towards Marlene's "screw a butcher block on top" plan, but it won't cost me anything to try it Maggie's way for a while and see if it's workable. I can always get someone in an Ikea-equipped city to send me one of their six-foot birch countertops. As for the cherries -- well, I have another idea. If it works, there will be pictures. But to start with, white, per Brooks' instructions, with a red kickboard, and red knobs and handles.

Well, you're going to have to do some heavy-duty cutting, either way -- if you insist on a larger cooking surface.

You'll have to finish the newly-exposed sides of the cabinets adjacent to the cut-out. If you go the range route, you'll have to clear the entire area all the way to the wall, including cutting away the counter below the backsplash. What are the counters made of?

How was I to know you had this slide-in range fetish?