Mjx

Denmark does not seem to be a particularly well-known country, especially outside of Europe (the best response I got, when I mentioned to someone at Newark airport that I'd just come from Denmark was 'Oh... yeah... the capital of... Amsterdam?'). Even those who know perfectly well where Denmark is, are unlikely to be familiar with any of its cities other than Copenhagen (although Odense, home of H.C. Andersen and an internationally familiar brand of marzipan is its 3rd largest city). Danish restaurants? 'Noma, of course! What do you mean, "other restaurants"?'. This is not so surprising, because Denmark is small, has about 5.5 million people, and by and large, Danish food is... edible. Anybody who thinks that Noma is even remotely representative of Danish cuisine needs to try shopping for food in Denmark. However, there are other restaurants in Denmark that are reputed to be innovative and excellent, including Malling & Schmidt, in Århus (the 'Å', alternatively written as 'Aa' is pronounced like the 'a' in 'draw'), Denmark's second largest city. I haven't eaten there yet, since my dining-out budget is in the takeaway sandwich bracket, but my boyfriend did (business dinner given by a deeply satisfied manager), and was duly pleased and impressed. We were discussing it the other day, and I wondered whether Malling & Schmidt is known outside of Denmark; I had my doubts. However, my boyfriend felt fairly certain that among those who take food and dining seriously, the name would be familiar, at least on their radar. What say you? Have you heard of Malling and Schmidt? And if so, where are you located? For the curious, they have a blog, where most of the updates to their menus are posted (also a video of them in action at Madrid Fusion 2010; that's Rene Redzepi of Noma, there at the beginning); English language option is in the black bar at the very top of the page.

I always bring a bag. In Denmark, this is almost inevitably a rucksack, with an extra shopping bag tucked inside, in case I come across something not on the shopping list, but that I don't want to pass up (in NYC, just the shopping bag, because the rucksack poses is a problem for security staff). I've never brought hard containers to fill, but often do reuse bulk bags when I'm anywhere that sells bulk (very rare, here). I also save a goodish number of tiny spice bags, which I refill with bulk herbs at Integral Yoga, when I'm back in NYC.

Depends on the adhesive: some respond best to heat/moisture, some to oil and organic solvents (not so many these days, in my experience), others are best carefully scraped off with a blade (you may want to test before applying a solvent like lighter fluid to plastic). I usually start by soaking the sorts of things you describe in hot water, if the label doesn't peel off, or peels off incompletely. Then I just rub at the label or spot of residue, which takes care of most cases.

The influence is massive: There is is virtually nowhere you can go, without encountering the US influence on food. It may not be a good influence, but it is ubiquitous. In terms of generating actual controversy, I'm thinking Sandra Lee, or Rachel Ray: It seems impossible to mention either one (to anyone who's heard of them) without people taking sides and shouting. I admit that I cannot recognize either, and don't care, but every time they're being discussed, you get significant partisan reactions. This isn't to say that either one has the least significance, in actual culinary terms.

What?! 'cog-nak' is wrong..? I think if the pronunciation of a foreign word is natural to someone, you can tell, and then it doesn't seem pretentious or affected. I speak four languages, with varying degrees of proficiency, and scraps of several others. Since I grew up speaking Italian, my Italian pronunciation is correct, but when I use Italian words while speaking English, the 'r's are anglicized, and the vowels become less crisp, so they don't 'stick out' from whatever I'm saying; it isn't a conscious effort. Similarly, my pronunciation of English words tends to be seriously violated when I'm speaking Italian or Danish. It has to do with the feel of a language, I think. Perhaps, with words like 'absinthe', instead of thinking of this in terms of correctness, it's most accurate to note that[, among English speakers,] pronunciation varies, and more than one pronunciation is regarded as acceptable (after all, similar discussions could be had over English words, such as 'route' and 'greasy').

Darwin, among others, hypothesized that the human appendix may have once played a role in the enhanced digestion of cellulose (e.g. that found in leaves), but there does not appear to be anything that supports this as being more than a possibility.

If you want a more precise idea of hardness, there's the Moh's Scale. There may be products/handling guidelines that are specially intended for softer and harder stone

Watermelon AND green apple Jolly Ranchers. And I have no idea whether Tang still exists, but I remember liking it better than orange juice.

Pizza is the first thing that comes to mind. I grew up with pizza that had a modest amount of sauce and cheese, and restrained amounts of traditional toppings. Pineapple, candied cherries, large chunks of vegetable, kebabs, marshmallows (mini or jet-puf) double layers of crust, excessive toppings of any sort... the list of things that I feel do not belong on a pizza is very, very long.

How did he pronounce it?! The English pronunciation isn't that different from the Italian one, it's just... sort of sloppier. I've e-mailed some people I know, who actually drink absinthe, since I'm curious as to their pronunciation; they may be more accurate in their pronunciation.

She might have done, even if it wasn't directly; I think women who were confident of their ability to cook (not to mention their daughters) would be more likely to consider training as chefs, going to culinary school. I'd argue that, ultimately, Julia Child was most significant as a teacher, and teachers often inspire their students to pursue what they're teaching, rather than their profession (of teacher).

That was my mistake: I meant 'latter'. But among those I know, the only ones who inevitably use the French pronunciation are, in fact French. A large part of this may be due to the fact that, among those I know, the word generally occurs in the sentence 'I've never tried absinthe.' Among connoisseurs, I would not be surprised to find the situation otherwise.

I go with the former, although I know the latter is correct; this holds true for pretty much everyone I know who doesn't actually speak French. The people I know who do speak French (= fluently enough to have a phone conversation in the language) tend to go with the latter. Sometimes. My impression is that to most people, the French pronunciation sounds pretentious from someone whose grasp of French is limited to a few words, but it seems natural from someone whom they've frequently heard holding conversations in French (this seems to extend to foreign language pronunciations ins general).

I'm trying to feel embarrassed about the fact that thinking about Shirley Temples (my grandfather used to get me these when I was very small, and he took me to the heavily masculine restaurant in the cellar of the the building where he had his office) has made me crave one. I'm thinking that if you used a decent ginger ale and Maraschino (instead of grenadine and a alleged 'maraschino' cherry), it might not even be that degraded of a drink..?

Anna N raised an important point about the colour of the exterior of the loaf being an important indicator; the May & June 2011 (Number 110) issue of Cook's Illustrated (p. 31) discusses this, noting that for 'rustic' types of loaves, the internal temperature can go as high 210F/99C by the time it's done (and won't exceed the the boiling temperature of water), and that 'Internal temperatures is less useful than appearance as a sign of a well-baked loaf'; the colour should be a deep brown.

I use a cream made of beeswax melted into oil on virtually every natural surface (leather and wood, as well as stone), and works amazingly well. Food-grade mineral oil is the most versatile (safe, and doesn't oxidize to a darker colour), but I've used almond oil, too. I use a bain Marie setup to melt the two together. I fill a jar nearly to the neck with the oil, add about 160g beeswax/L [5.6 oz/quart] mineral oil (120g [4.2 oz], if you're using almond oil, or it's too hard to be spreadable), and heat it until the wax has melted. Put on the lid, and shake it vigorously every now and again (to keep it form separating) until it's cooled. This is easier to make in small jars (about the size of a Marmite jar). This stuff is nicely spreadable, protects extremely well, doesn't seem to build up, and smells delicious. It's also good for protecting your hands, and I use it to fix them up a bit, when they're chapped as hell from having my hands in water/cleaning chemicals a lot.

These projects always manage to be less straightforward than expected, unless it's not the first time. If you're looking for lino, I came across Lansing Linoleum, which seems to be having a sale, and this site has a pretty broad selection of tiles, although I don't see ones made of lino.

Oak is nice solid stuff, and I don't think it's going to show much in the way of dings from anything you drop, and it is likely to age at least as well as a lot of other stuff, or at least anything else that isn't tile, brick, or stone. We have pale beech floors throughout our the flat, including the kitchen, and none of it is even sealed. Worse, it's treated with white pigment (pickled?), so if you so much as drip a dish on the floor, it looks like crap. Despite all this, and the fact that these are the original floors that were installed when the building went up in 1953, a quick mopping gets the floors looking pristine. I haven't noticed any marks from all the things I've dropped on the floor, either, and this includes some Le Creuset pieces. Hah! We have one of those... does your produce a loud, panicked beep?

Have to hand it to you, that's a great kitchen, and I really like the layout and lighting. What are your floors sealed with?

My first step in trouble-shooting would be to see how commercial flours behave in these recipes: If loaves made with those came out without the gumminess, I'd suspect a higher moisture level in the freshly-milled flour, and ratchet back a bit on the hydration; even 5% might make a difference.

Sandwiches, on long road trips: the crumbs manage to get everywhere. Ritter Sport bars: random fragments of these seem to always nestle against the previously mentioned crumbs. Random wine gums, which find their way to the bottom of my rucksack. Somewhat related: any food I decide to eat without removing my motorcycle helmet (the helmet manufacturer would undoubtedly wince at the stray napkin fragments around the lower part of the opening of the helmet; yes, I do get them all, when I get home).

Yeh. Tamarind sweets. Just ate an entire bagful, in fact, entirely aware of the fact that this is not going to end well.

I was there last September, dinner and breakfast, and both meals were pleasantly memorable, if not awe-inspiring. Dinner was an extremely decent cassoulet, (filling enough that it was the only thing I had), and breakfast involved a quite good croissant and coffee (I also pick up breakfast to take away from the downtown location, fairly often). Dinner is insanely crowded, it can be hard to hear yourself speak, but at breakfast you may be alone in the dining room.

Nope. I don't like cheese (and you forgot 'orgasmic'!)

Because so many people whose tastes I respect care so deeply about it. But... that just doesn't seem like it is enough to do the trick. You can't make yourself care [more] about something, anymore than you can make yourself fall in love with someone, or believe in god, if you actually don't. I'd stay small: If you have more than one or two on hand at any given time, you may just find yourself avoiding them. If there are a couple around that you like, even if they are never the same twice, you'll probably enjoy them much more.