Mjx

Crêpes Suzette. This is categorizable as 'dinner', because its preparation ended up pushing past dinner time, and subbing for it, although the project was a spectacular fiasco that actually ended up on the floor at one point. I did this in someone else's kitchen, someone who rather dislikes cooking and considers it a bore, and who sweetly (she truly meant to be kind) chose to hang about chatting, to relieve my boredom while I cooked. Unfortunately, I like cooking and am never bored by it, but do tend to focus intensely on whatever I happen to be doing, and was going out of my mind trying to give my undivided attention to both my first efforts at this dessert and my friend's conversation. I think I looked at each of the instructions about five times before they registered. I was pushing the two hour mark on this enterprise when I turned on the broiler (if this is making no sense, this was the CI recipe from Sept/Oct 2006). I was intially thrown by the fact that there is no broiler as such in most European ovens: There's a top element, but you need to select the temperature, and I realized that I had no idea of what a broiler's temperature is, other than 'very hot'. I cranked it up to 275 C and hoped for the best. I was breathing a sigh of relief as I slipped the pan into the oven, when I noticed that the interior of the oven was room temperature, although smoke was issuing from somewhere. 'Somewhere' turned out to be the smaller, lower oven which I'd clean forgotten about. Right. We turn that off, and try again. Once that was sorted, all went smoothly until I removed the pan from the oven and set it, crookedly, alas, on a trivet, from which it slipped and fell heavily to floor – upside down, of course. The crêpes that did not touch the floor were actually retrieved and eaten, but this I did not see, as, once I'd picked up the mess, I quickly excused myself from the scene to avoid spontaneously combusting from embarrassment before witnesses.

I definitely agree that a slicer is an excellent idea, but only if you get a professional grade one, since 'consumer-grade' ones never seem to be up to their job. My boyfriend lost his heart to a professional slicing unit on diplay in a shop window in Bolzano; I was fairly certain he'd also lost his mind (it weighs 9.5 Kg, about 20 lbs.), when he calmly purchased, dismantled, and packed it into his suitcase, to take home with us. But it's been a terrific addition to the kitchen, and its perfomance, when compared to that of slicers intended for consumer kitchens, is at a whole other level. I also agree that 'less stuff' is a great idea; one of the things that makes me crazy when I find myself working in other people's kitchens is the sheer amount of stuff you have to plough through, to find, say, a slotted spoon.... and how can someone have two wooden lemon jucers, but not a single strainer (in all fairness, I suspect that many such items are unwanted gifts)?

I was just given a Jennings CJ-4000 lab scale :smile: This is brilliant, because the kitchen scale in residence devoured batteries, was given to going dead at the most inconvenient moments (the lab scale has an auxiliary power cord, in case the batteries die and there are no extras about) and was only accurate to a gram (and I have grave doubts about that), while the Jennings is accurate to half a gram, and has a cover that doubles as a measuring dish.

Damn, your food looks good! Here it's all about Christmas eve: yesterday was a sandwich and a bunch of hastily thrown together rice. Oh,and the last of the venison in pastry, which became a bit dry on reheating, even at a low temperature. No SV cooking here, but I do keep duck fat in the refrigerator, and I have a whacking great bag of suet in the freezer, which was collected at the slaughterhouse in its raw form, and rendered at home for the annual Christmas pudding. I also use it in any recipe that calls for solid vegetable shortening (you just can't get suet here, since it's all exported or used commercially). Thanks Dave, I kept staring at the photo of the onion and the explanation of how it ought to have been done, and wondering what I wasn't quite getting.

I want to thank everyone who offered venison advice; the results I got were good enough that the biggest opponent of my preference for cutting the meat off the bone to cook separately asked me for the recipe I used. I do have one question, however: Does anyone know the butcher's term for the two little strips of meat, positioned at either side of the interior aspect of the neck vertebrae, like two tiny tenderloins? People seem slightly nauseated when I use anatomical terms, and I figure these must have a culinary-use name, too.

My experience is that chilis and soups--everything from thin broths to thick, stand-alone stews--freeze really well. The one caveat is that you should avoid including in them anything that breaks down when heated/chilled a lot, like broccoli (basically, if it turns grey and mushy when boiled, count it out; otherwise, you're good). If you want to include anything delicate, add a bit of it fresh to your reheated soup. The Jan/Feb 2011 issue of Cook's Illustrated has a recipe for chili that looks really promising; if you can get your hands on a copy, give it a look. I hope this doesn't sound like a shill, but in terms of delivering what they promise, CI has yet to let me down even once.

To be honest, when I wrote earlier it was already about 11.00 here, and I'd been doing nothing much: Yesterday was the big day. Today I mostly sat about limply, doing a PM on yesterday's dinner. The texture of the cake was okay, but I'm still kicking myself for not just carrying the ganache bowl into the living room, where it was warm (I was wearing a scarf and fingerless gloves in the kitchen, which should have clued me in). At least I'll know to do that when I make truffles for another party on Monday. To my great relief, the flying-blind-in a snowstorm venison dish turned out reasonably well, though I'll be reducing the cooking time, next time I do this.

Chris, congratulations on a what looks like mostly a big success. It's a shame about the ice cream, and I know how that feels; my own dessert effort was a partial failure, because our kitchen has no heat, and I miscalculated how long it would take boiled cream to cool when making what was supposed to be a satiny ganache icing. The cake looked like it had been smoothed over with a rake, the operative word being 'chunky'.

I found myself in the same position as yours for a long time (even after uni), and what helped was pooling; other students/starving artists/etc. are usually more than happy to put some cash into a pool for a meal. Once we had a cash pool, we'd decide what was going to be on for a given meal or meals, divvy up the shopping (sometimes), then I'd do the cooking. We'd get together for the meal (again, sometimes: other times, if I felt like eating on my own with a book, it'd be a takeaway deal for the others, but no one seemed to mind), and split up any leftovers. I know this isn't recipe help, but the thing about doing things this way (and this goes for two or three people, too) is that it makes it possible to make all those 'serves 4 to 6' recipes without having lots of leftovers, and it also simplifes shopping, since it can sometimes be difficult to find convenient portions for one (besides, items packaged for four or more generally cost less per pound than smaller amounts).

I grew up in a vegetarian household (IndyRob's suggestions sound both good and familiar), so I was wondering whether your friend is becoming vegetarian for ethical or health reasons. This may sound like a daft question, but it does make a difference in your approach: If she's become vegetarian for health reasons only, and there will be more than just the two of you at dinner, you could still make any meat dish you were planning, as long as there are plenty of side dishes that had no meat in them for her to eat (when I ate at friends' homes when I was a kid, that was what I usually did). Of course, if she's made her decision for ethical reasons, you'd want to avoid having meat on the table at all.

Wouldn't want to eat there, myself. As long staff and management are giving things their best shot and staying polite, I can even deal with unexpected disasters (the fingernail in the ice cream, the soup in the lap, the waiter having a weeping meltdown for half an hour, etc.). Although it's comprehensible, chucking someone out because you hate their reviews is rude, not to mention unprofessional and pointlessly self-destructive. I've never read her reviews, but I've certainly read others that crossed the line into pointless abuse, so I can understand his anger and frustration, but I'd say he shot himself in the foot over this one. Why sink to her level, if she's so awful? If he'd come out from the back, politely said 'Oh, I recognize you, you're Irene Virbila, enjoy your meal, and by the way, smile, we're taking your picture to remember the occasion by' (and posted it online; I can understand doing that), I would have been seriously impressed, and would definitely want to check the place out.

I'm currently in a country where it's difficult to find many fairly straightforward ingredients (e.g. molasses, Triple Sec), and my very simply planned Christmas dinner is proving a bit of a logistical nightmare, so I am feeling deeply, deeply envious of your access to all this great stuff; your dinner is definitely going to be amazing. Well then: I'm off for a final, hopeful, hunting and gathering expedition to try to find those last, missing items I need, or reasonable substitutes/replacements. Happy whichever-holiday-you-celebrate, all!

How about garganelli or gnocchi, or strozzapreti (which are pretty close to spaetzle)? Or, you could just make shorter pappardelle or tagliatelle: I've sometimes made traditionally long pasta shapes as short as 3" (either because they seemed to work better at that length, or by request, because of the sub-par pasta wrangling skills of some of the invited guests).

I don't know whether you've sorted out the logistics of your kitchen lighting issues by now, but if you haven't, I venture to suggest that your best bet is going to be lighting mounted below eye level (e.g. mounted to the underside of one or more cabinets, even though I know this is something you prefer to avoid), since you do demand utility of your kitchen. I've moved more times than I'm able to count, have cooked in over a dozen different kitchens, and one thing I can say for sure: Having the fixtures installed so light falls directly on what you are working – so your head and upper body don't block the light – is probably worth the sacrifice of 100% strict period accuracy. Besides, if you get small halogens (ones with pivoting heads, or gooseneck models, sort of like these), they can be pretty much tucked out of sight, and you can use whatever attractive period fixtures you prefer for the rest of the room/time. We have a part-vintage 1953 kitchen in our flat (floors, tile walls, and cabinets are original, but the counter was raised and uglified by previous owners, and we installed a Gaggenau oven and stovetop, since the originals units were long gone), and haven't sorted the lighting in it, but it looks like we're going to end up with low-mounted track lighting over the counter (no cabinets on that side of the kitchen, so under-cabinet lighting is not an option for us). We looked at some more period-appropriate options, since we liked what remains of the original kitchen, but the cost was insane (prices run high in Denmark, even without the 25% sales tax), and I really didn't want to go back to overhead lighting, since our last place pretty much converted me to the low-mounted alternative.

The pappardelle I've bought (and those I make) are a bit thicker, as well as broader than tagliatelle, which seems to give the extra wiggle room necessary to consistently cook them with a more discernible al dente centre. I'm guessing that pasta thickeness varies from brand to brand, and possibly from country to country, even for a given brand, to accommodate national preferences (sort of the way Mars Bars are sweeter in the US than in Denmark).

Bite, for me; the sensation of my teeth sinking into and through perfectly cooked pappardelle is incredibly satisfying. When it comes to anything intended to be chewed, I'm a fan of firm/chewy, and tagliatelle don't seem to quite deliver on that front (putting this into perspective, however, I prefer tougher cuts of beef to filet mignon).

Williams Sonoma isn't the first place I'd look for a good price... most of the things they sell are available elswhere at easily half the price they list. But I have to confess I enjoy browsing (and occasionally buying, even if they demand a kidney as payment) in their shops far more than in Bed Bath and Beyond.

Oh, I was thinking splayed out flat, I suppose because it seems easier to measure that way. But even sort of bunched up, my tongue (which my piercer said is on the small side) is wider than most pappardelle I've seen. But I'll leave it at that, I didn't mean to hijack this post!

I thought of this post today, when I came across The Perfect Pantry – a food writer's 250+ favorite ingredients, with recipes. This is something that can never exist in quite the way you describe, not only because food and its preparation are constantly evolving, but because access to knowledge and ingredients is constantly changing; for example, just when you think you've nailed the last item, along comes a never-before-done recipe translation from, say, Gujarati, which mentions three new ingredients and two new techniques. Or, I once came across a very old recipe for a pigeon dish that recommended using the 'readily available and delicious' passenger pigeon (the last of which died in the 40s). Your best bet would be to compile a personal database, starting from whatever reasonably comprehensive source you first find, and then adding others: they often cross-link to related sites and databases (a good thing, since the more comprehensive directories I've seen have also tended to be less accurate, and this is a good way to catch errors). This can be added to on an ongoing basis, keeping it right at the cutting edge of your knowledge. Actually, perhaps eGullet already has such a project simmering along, which I've overlooked? It certainly would be something doable, given all the potential member contributions.

That sounds more like lasagne! I love pappardelle; the ones I grew up with were always thicker than tagliatelle, so I've always made them that way, too, and they're amazing with game sauces (have you tried making them with about 30% chestnut flour? Exceptional). I confess that I don't care much for tagliatelle, but I think that is because I associate them most with the sauces I like least, and they never seem particularly satisfactory... thin ribbons, meh.

I'd consider leaving it as is, but slicing it very thinly, and serving it with something intrinsically bland, which would act as a strong foil/balance it (e.g. rice)? I don't know how much salmon you cured, but you might want to experiment with small batches, first, to see what approach makes the most of what you've got.

Fair enough... But, 'judgemental?'

Do meals that were nightmarish simply because of the sheer amount of food involved count? Because I have a couple of beauts, but the food itself was (mostly) good to excellent, although the amounts I was expected to eat exceeded my understood capacity about twice over, and I wanted to curl up and cry. Except that leaning forward would have made me spectacularly sick.

I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Takashimaya is closed, and I couldn't find the T-Salon when I looked for it last week (it may have moved). I love The way McNulty's smells, but the prices/range seem to be geared to the tourist. <sigh> I never did get my hands on a fresh tin of gunpowder, after all... I wish I'd seen this thread last week!

I wonder by how much these statistics would drop, if people were consistently careful about personal and kitchen hygiene. After all, careful prep removes or destroys a lot of pathogens: You kind of have to start from the assumption that most raw food items have a fair chance of being contaminated, and act accordingly. I admit to having been a germ freak as far back as I was able to understand the concept of 'germs', which was when I was about six: At my school, in Italy, we queued up to go to the loo, and then the teacher would keep an eye on us to make certain we all washed up properly (each of us using our own personal soap, nail brush, and towel, which were brought to school every day in a sponge bag); we were told in simple, but very clear terms why this was important. Since then, however, I've also had my mind persistently boggled by those who seem to think they're getting away with something clever by not washing their hands before eating, or ignoring basic kitchen hygiene. Producers and distributors should take a great deal more care in their plants, but a lot of the risk posed by contaminants would still rest with the consumer; teaching kids to take care of themselves at an early age would not only be likely to improve hygiene at personal level, but would also encourage these kids, once they became adults, to be a great deal more demanding about the safety of the food they purchase: If you don't care much, you don't care much right across the board.