Mjx

I've been racking my brains to remember where I read this, so I can give credit, but I've had no luck: What I recall reading is that a cartouche is meant to be used without a lid, when you've reached the point at which you want to reduce, but not lose too much of the remaining fluid, avoid drying pieces that begin to poke above the surface of the liquid, and avoid the creation of a 'skin' on the surface; that you fold it because it is important to 'attend to the details' (which phrase makes me think I may have come across this in an Italian cookbook when I was a kid, and that the word stuck in my head because it was unusual). Since the paper is then crumpled, this reason for folding seems as probable as any. I'm also guessing (probably because of the colossal mess last night's peposo made of our stovetop) that a significant part of a cartouche's original function was to reduce/prevent the mess created by the spatter you tend to get, as reduction progresses.

The fondant is always rough because you need to work it from a very thick syrup to a creamy mass, and the viscosity is such that you really do want something very heavy/firmly anchored to do this on (rather than held down with your weaker hand, since your stronger one is wielding the paddle), otherwise it's possible to simply run out of strength and be unable to complete the processing; this happened the second time I tried making it. When I make croissants, the dough seems to be remarkably forgiving of what strike me as critical slips (keeping the butter from breaking through the layers of dough has been my biggest problem), but the slumping that inevitably takes place during rising is depressing, and I haven't managed to prevent that. Even though the end results have been texturally correct, I'd love them to not look as though they'd been sat on.

I have a vague recollection of this, and remember wondering why, since fibre from food sources (e.g. grains, other seeds) isn't a source of calories anyway, it just bulks things up. Now I'm guessing cellulose is just cheaper than other forms of fibre, or perhaps paler, so the bread doesn't look like whole meal bread.

The most challenging thing I've made has been fondant; I don't have a marble slab, and have always done this on a plate, which is actually more than challenging, it is hellish, and probably really stupid; however, I love making fondant-based sweets, and hate the flavour of corn syrup in it, so have little choice but to make my own, although I can't afford a marble slab where I am right now. I think most kitchen challenges come from not having the right equipment/instructions/comprehension and willingness to follow the instructions; if you have those, and sweat the details, it's hard to go wrong. Croissants have been challenging too, but the the texture of both crust and interior have been so good, I persist in trying to get them right (they weren't a 100% success: each time they slumped considerably when I set them to rise in the steamy oven – I've never been able to discover the reason for doing this – and plan on skipping the steam next time I make them, to see what happens).

Ugh. I found that out the hard way, when I once (and only once) ordered a 'regular' coffee in NYC, thinking it would have to mean 'plain'. And, my particular coffee fetish is that it cannot contain any dairy product or facsimile thereof, as I find such substances disgusting in coffee. Seriously: I can drink virtually any coffee, with any flavouring in it (raspberry? in coffee? ridiculous, but okay, whatever...), at any temperature, with any amount of sugar, and be philosophical about it. I think I could even handle salt in my coffee; I know, to my mild sorrow, that I can handle pepper in it (this involved a very strange mistake). But dairy in coffee renders it undrinkable to me: I find caffé latte entirely incomprehensible. If I'm feeling exhausted or otherwise enfeebled, even the smell of coffee with dairy in it makes me feel queasy. (I do have actual standards, but I drink so much coffee made by others that I'm pretty tolerant of less-than-perfection.)

I have to agree, this isn't something you'd want to take hearsay advice on. According to this article on the Mayo Clinc's website, there can be serious interactions between at least some statins and grapefruit juice. For a more in-depth discussion, 'Drug-grapefruit juice interactions' goes into the biochemistry and physiology. The bibliography given here may be useful, if the previous article isn't as relevant as you'd like, or you're interested in the way the research has developed in the last decade.

At its simplest, you need flour, leavening, and water to make bread; a bread made with just these will contain the fewest possible calories per gram. The calorie count per gram goes down (a bit), as the fibre content of the flour goes up, but as Will and Jenni pointed out, you can also add more air (not as easy at home as in an industrial facility), which becomes harder to do, as the amount of fibre present increases. Adding fibre to a simple flour and water dough is probably the your best bet, though, since--even in a bread with no added fibre--there's an upper limit to how much air you can incorporate into your dough. If you hate fibre-rich bread, this would have the additional (if questionable) advantage of making you feel less inclined to eat it. I adore bread, and am one of those who gains weight really easily from even small amounts of carbohydrates, but I can't bring myself to turn the consumption of one of my favourite foods into a combat zone: I just try to save bread for an occasional, smallish treat, and eat the kinds I like.

HP Sauce. And I'm not sure whether this counts, but virtually any dark gravy, at even the divey-est diner; if meat/potatoes are involved, the concept of 'too much' does not really apply to this stuff. Does this question include sweet condiments (e.g. dessert toppings), or only savoury ones?

Hydration may be the issue. I bake bread two or three times a week, and derived my current base recipe from ATK's sandwich loaf, slowly modifying it until I got results that were satisfactory, using locally available ingredients: This meant upping the fluid (360 ml fluid for 500g flour), so the final forming step of the original recipe is not doable--the dough is close to pourable--but I get an impressive rise even when I swap in half rye flour (which cuts the gluten down to about 6%). I usually add an autolyse step (unless time is short), and the resulting texture is firm and even, but moderately open (just right for a sandwich). If I have time, I let it rise overnight in the refrigerator (the loaf is fine without it, if less flavourful).

I'd like to add this internal link for fixing broken ganache, which I tried just a few minutes ago, and found very effective, even though I used the crudest possible version of the less elaborate of the two techniques described (i.e no thermometer, just warmed the ganache to blood temp., tested it on my wrist, set it aside for a minute to bring it down to about 35 C, then added small splashes of boiled milk, mixing after each until it came together). N.B. There is a good chance that your ganache will look much worse before it comes together, but persist, and it should be fine.

Just tried this, and although it initially looked like a disaster--the ganache went from being merely grainy to looking like oil-slathered, chocolate-covered muesli--it eventually came together. Only complaint is that the flavourings (lime zest and clove) are now rather muted and bland. But the consistency is lovely; I'm waiting to see how this sets up (usual firmness, or softer, owing to added fluid). Update, nearly an hour later: The ganache seems to be setting up firmly enough to form, but is either going to be a bit softer than usual (for base recipe using 200g 80% c.m. chocolate and 125 ml 38% cream), or is taking longer to reach its final firmness.

We're having dinner at someone else's home, and the projected menu is: Beetroot carpaccio Jerusalem artichoke soup with blue cheese, garnished with mushrooms fried with bacon Leg of lamb with baked potatoes, seasoned mayonnaise, and a small salad Cheese plate (to be brought by my boyfriend and another guest) Assorted home-made ice cream, and truffles (the latter will be lime-clove and tobacco-whiskey; my contribution) There will various wines, but I don't know what they will be, and there will be a Mont Michel Brut Cava champagne, about which the host expresses doubts, describing it as 'not one I would myself buy or get, so it must be from last year'. I'm afraid I continue to be the equivalent of the village idiot when it comes to anything alcoholic but Madeira (I'm perfectly capable of drinking sweet champagne and liking it), so I have no idea of what that comment implies.

I agree, I'm fine with a key, too. One with a metal loop on it, so you can hang it from the doorknob, always seems like a good idea; I just use hand sanitizer after I hand it back. I confess to sometimes making a no-eye-contact bee-line for the loo, but this is because I'm feeling embarrassed/uncomfortable, and don't know where to look; it never occurred to me that it my be offensive, but I'll be thinking of this from now on. One thing: Unless a dreadful emergency is pending, I only use the loo in places that I tend to normally frequent (e.g. I occasionally duck into City Bakery just to use their facilites, but I frequently go there for coffee/pastry). Normally I'd just use one in a department store or B&N.

I really should've asked this previously, but what don't you like about that bread quality you're getting now (lack of flavour, texture too dense/fluffy/tough, etc.)? I'm curious about what you're getting now, just to get an idea of the baseline you're working from.

As good a name as any, I'd say . In roe deer they are so small, I imagine they're often easily overlooked (I was taking a break to thaw my fingers--the carcase was still frozen by the spine--when I happened to spot these), but I'm still puzzled about not finding this cut marked on any butcher's chart for beef or pork, since in these animals this pair of muscles must be about portion-sized, and they're even tenderer than the tenderloin (plus, in slaughtered animals, they wouldn't be full of shot ). Thanks for helping me out with this question!

They were way up towards the neck, and completely separate from the tenderloin, with about five or six vertebrae between the two groups. The only picture taken while I was butchering that shows them has really poor resolution, and they're only visible as darker bands at either side of the upper thoracic vertebrae/along the bases of the first four ribs. That's too far up for any loin cut, though, isn't it (those are usually below the ribcage, I believe)?

It was definitely muscle, not glandular tissue (if you look here, they're in the upper right hand corner; this was right after I'd taken them out, they were the last sections I removed). I'm stumped, and I hate that!

Yep. The were quite noticeable against the interior of the thoracic cavity, despite their smallness. I noticed them as I was prying out the tenderloins, as a matter of fact; saw them and wondered what they were, but figured that whatever else they might be, they would be tasty, and took them out, too. Asked my boyfriend what they were called, and he said he had no idea, not even in Danish. Nor did his father, who shot the beast, and hunts on a regular basis. I've looked online, but haven't found anything, yet.

These were in a different location than the tenderloins, and really small, finger-length, in fact. They were about where a human's longus colli muscles (not psoas major) would be, if that helps. It was a roe deer. They run pretty small, but definitely bigger than a muntjac. And it was delicious

Odd. There must be some other factor at work in the flour I use (mostly a 12% protein, all-purpose flour). A different wheat strain, perhaps.

Is this specific to one particular kind of soft wheat? My experience has been that soft wheat yields a more finely textured loaf with no real holes; if I want chewy, holey, bread, I use a hard wheat flour.

I remember buying processed gluten to eat as a snack: it was a Japanese product, called zenryu-fu. It is quite hard and crunchy. If you were to use it in baking, I'm wondering whether it would be more effective to try incorporate it by first soaking it in water, or grinding it and adding the powder to the flour, before adding water (for the latter, you'd definitelyalmost certainly want a longer autolysis phase).

I've nothing to add to the advice about determining flour type, but if you don't have cake flour, adding a bit of corn starch will generally give quite good results (I've found that potato and rice starch work equally well), but I'm not a professional, so this is not specialized, insider knowledge. For each 130 g (about 4.6 oz) of all-purpose flour, swap out two tablespoons of flour, and replace them with an equal amount of corn starch. I wish I could give credit for this recommendation, but all I have is an uncited marginal scrawl (For cake fl., per cup 7/8 AP+2T corn flour; I'm about 90% certain it was CI). Until recently I couldn't weigh such small amounts accurately, but this morning's experiments with my lovely new lab scale indicate that both a tablespoon of AP flour and one of corn starch (scooped and levelled) weigh 9 g (0.3 oz). It's very humid in Denmark, and the kitchen is particularly cold and damp, so that may need to be taken into account.

Lab scale, anyone? I don't know the cost of the Jennings CJ-4000 lab scale I was just given as a gift, but it comes with a 20-year warranty on parts and labour, which has to count for something... it wighs up to 4 kg, is precise to half a gram, and gives either ounces or grams, as you prefer. For me the aggravating factor is the weird-looking-amounts-issue associated with converting volumes to weights (e.g. a cup of unsifted flour is 113 g).

Good Morning! The Polder 898 looks fairly decent. I'd planned on getting one, but the purchase was pre-empted by the acquisition of a stove and oven that were each equipped with elaborate multi-timers. Originally, I'd considered the Polder 893 unit, but read that it has an extremely quiet alarm (we have a rather loud exhaust fan) and an insecurely attached magnetic strip.