BeatriceB

I don't like the term "foodie" and would never call myself that. There are a number of reasons: The childish "ie" at the end bothers me; I don't like labeling myself as any one thing, ever. Most of all, though, I find it to be an over-broad term, encompassing way too many things to be useful as a single label. "Foodie," as it is currently used, seems to include: People who spare no expense in going to the most new/haute/elaborate restaurants they can; People who spend their time seeking out "hidden gem" ethnic/rustic restaurants, generally inexpensive; People who shop for esoteric and/or very expensive foods that are eaten as purchased; People who cook at home, learning to make food similar to that served in the elaborate restaurants with expensive ingredients; People who cook at home, making food from sometimes expensive, sometimes less so, ingredients, who want to try new techniques and "ethnic" ingredients; People who cook at home, perfecting the cuisines they already love; People who actually work in some capacity in the food business. To me, these people are all "foodies," and all valid ways of loving food, and if you did a Venn diagram, there'd certainly be some overlap, but many of them have nothing at all in common with each other. I don't like being put into this group, because to some people it implies things about me that are very much not the case. An anecdote: Several years ago a woman moved into an apt. down the hall from mine. We had the "welcome to the building" conversation, and almost the first thing she said was "I'm a foodie." As described above, that said little to me about what she actually did or liked. It rapidly appeared that what she meant was she got most of her food from Trader Joe's and put pretty much all her trash into the glass/plastic recycling bin regardless of whether it belonged there. I don't trust a self-described "foodie."

Hello -- I grew up in Princeton, so I know your area, and there isn't a whole lot of sophisticated food there, though there is plenty of good food. Honestly, the best thing for you to do, given your location, and that you don't want/like to cook, is to come to New York, which is very safe and pleasant (by and large) these days. Do not drive. If you live between Princeton/Trenton, it is easy and cheap for you to take NJ Transit to Penn Station, NY. Ahead of time, research and print subway and bus maps for Manhattan. Look at the Manhattan boards here for places with food you'd like to experience, and explore the menus online. Plot out how to get to that neighborhood, and for a single given day trip, try to keep your eating venues within walking distance of each other. Walking around Manhattan is fun and interesting in almost every neighborhood. If you want to take a cab, only use the yellow cabs at the stands outside Penn Station, even if you have to wait in line, and, elsewhere, only hail a yellow cab. P.S. There is spectacular food in Queens, Bronx, and Brooklyn, too, but that's for advanced lessons

I feel your pain. I love ice cream sandwiches, but they have all but vanished except in "diet" form of one kind or another. I'm not sure how widely available they are, and they only come in one flavor as far as I know, but Ciao Bella's lime gelato with graham crackers are very tasty. I wish Ben & Jerry or Haagen Daaz would do sandwiches in addition to bars, but it's been years and hasn't happened yet. The suggestion to just DIY it is probably the best way to go, but it saddens me, as an ice cream sandwich should be a whimsical thing, not a plan-ahead. If you don't want to bake for this purpose, and aren't devoted to the idea of chocolate, I find that Jules Destrooper Butter Wafer cookies make a good ice cream sandwich with purchased ice cream. Sometimes I add some homemade fruit compote if I have it around. Or a layer of peanut butter.

Yes, I'm sure you know all about petty thievery. But as I said, I don't think that was the question you posed, so why do you keep bringing it up? That's a comfortable and transparent way to dismiss any objections to the behavior you presented for criticism: Anyone who doesn't like it is hysterical and has their own problems, and therefore isn't entitled to examine mine. Even though you started an entire thread asking for critical commentary on this behavior. Weak. And potentially far worse.

I do agree with the person above who said that FG started this topic, seemingly asking a question, just to bat every single objection off. Don't ask a question if you don't want to hear the answer. As to the "theft" of produce bags. The initial question in itself set up a strawman. The initial question asked about the ETHICS of this behavior, not the legality, yet the conversation kept being steered into legal channels. Unless someone here is an experienced criminal defense attorney, or wants to get on Westlaw and do the relevant research, none of us knows the legal conclusion here. Especially as it probably varies by jurisdiction. As to the ethics, which was in fact the question posed. I think it is appallingly unethical to take any bags beyond the ones you need to safely and convieniently transport the produce you are buying from the produce aisle to your home. And I find the assumption you make that everyone does this kind of thing depressing and, I believe, inaccurate. I certainly don't. To sum up some of the fine points made above (although most of this should really be obvious to any thinking person): 1. One way or another, these things cost money. You assert that you aren't really costing the store any money because you don't take that many and because the advertisers actually pay for them: This is the most obvious and grotesque free rider problem I've ever seen and you should know better. First of all, you admit to taking many of these bags for many purposes, not just a few every now and then, so the "no big deal" point is just BS. Second, yeah, you love using these bags to pick up dog poo, wrap sandwiches, carry fruit, etc. and seem to be proud of using up to three a day. That is nothing to be proud of. That is something to be ashamed of. That shows that you are stealing something of actual value on a weekly basis from a place that has at least a half-aisle of products created for the exact same purpose being sold for actual money just feet away. So, what if WE ALL DID THIS? How long would the "free" bags last? My winter cabin needs insulation, a whole bunch of plastic bags might work ... 2. You like to talk about "implied consent." We aren't (per your topic) talking about law here, but ethics. I think we all know exactly what the real implied consent here is. It is to take the number of bags you think necessary to keep your produce clean/unbruised/unsquished/etc until it gets from the produce dept to your kitchen. Sure, use your judgment on that, but (and you asked for ethics, not law), you know when you are bullshitting yourself. 3. This idea that it is OK because they are cheap or you don't take many (though it appears that you do take many) is nonsense. You asked an ethical question, and I don't care about the line between petty and grand larceny (which varies by jurisdiction; and petty larceny still carries penalties). Ethically, you are stealing and it is a nasty, greedy, rude thing to do (to paraphrase someone above). It is costing the store money, it is costing your fellow customers money, and as someone else pointed out above, is most likely to end in no produce bags at all, so we'll all have to bring our own, pay for them, or specially request them. I don't care if it makes you a thief; it definitely makes you a jerk.

It makes me sad to think of you swallowing all those pits, which can't be good for you. If you really can't bear the sight of the pits on the side of your plate, how about asking for an extra napkin? That's not too hard to provide, whether at a restaurant or a friend's house (where a paper napkin would be fine). You could then use the extra to discreetly collect pits.

That has been similar to my conclusion after rejecting purchased microwave popcorn as expensive, full of weird chemicals, and not very tasty. I, however, haven't found all that much difference between plain microwaved popcorn and stovetop oil-popped corn, given that I add melted butter to both. If I want fast and easy-- and after years of doing the below method, I now much more frequently use this one -- I melt some, usually unsalted, butter in the microwave, then put a quarter cup of popcorn in a brown paper lunch bag -- I fasten it by folding about an inch of the top down, then making two about half-inch tears in the top about an inch apart, and then folding the section between the tears down -- and nuking it for about 3-4 minutes in my ancient low-wattage microwave. Take it out when the popping slows down, put it in a big bowl, toss with butter and fine sea salt. Yummy. A little more effort is the same popcorn put into oil (any ordinary cooking oil -- I usually have canola, but I've used corn, peanut, and generic vegetable) pre-heated over medium heat in a good-sized pan with a lid. Put lid on and let pan sit over medium heat until popping starts, then shake pan over heat, venting lid from time to time to let steam out, until popping slows way down. In the meantime, you need to have melted your bit o' butter in the microwave or a small pot. Toss the popcorn into a bowl with the butter, add your fine salt and done. I have to say that I find a minimal difference between these methods in flavor, and the microwave bag corn is crisper. However, I tend to add more butter to the brown bag popcorn, so there may be a minor health benefit to popping in canola oil and adding a little less butter. I am intrigued by this on the cob popcorn which I have never encountered.

I'm so glad I saw this thread! I had andouille languishing in the freezer for ages, but kept putting off making gumbo, daunted by the lengthy hands-on time between prep and roux. Today, I finally made chicken and andouille gumbo, using the oven roux method (1/2 cup each oil and flour, in a 5 qt. dutch oven, uncovered, 350 degree oven, 1 1/4 hours, whisking now and then). While the roux was cooking, I prepped veg, meats, seasonings, etc. I pulled the roux from the oven when it was medium-dark brown, and took John Besh's advice to add the onion to the roux before all the other ingredients, and cook it for a few minutes on its own. By the time I'd done that, the roux was gorgeously dark. Briefly turned chicken pieces in the roux, then added the other veg, herbs, stock, etc., and simmered. Wow. I'd been a little intimidated by the whole thing, but this came out better than the gumbo I fell in love with when I used to visit SW LA frequently -- I wouldn't have thought it possible. I was eating alone and making Mmmmmmm sounds out loud. This oven roux method is amazing -- cuts off half or more of the hands-on cooking time, and the results are more than delicious.

I use veloute for chicken hash (Pierre Franey's 60 Minute Gourmet recipe), chicken pie, and for my favorite sauce to accompany pot au feu, poule au pot, poached salmon, etc. (and to put over/with hot potatoes or other veg to accompany the leftover cold meat) -- Sauce Raifort: Sauce Supreme made with the relevant cooking liquid liberally seasoned with horseradish and a little lemon juice. As Blether suggested, it is an interesting question whether, for instance, the traditional Thanksgiving turkey gravy is a veloute. It starts with a roux, but made with drippings rather than butter, and then the pan juices are generally augmented by stock to complete the gravy. It is not classic, but close. Unfortunately, I can't remember where, but I know I've seen a few veloute sauces in restaurants over the past few years -- they have been plated in small quantities next to rather than over the meat, and in tandem with a more astringent sauce/compote/whathaveyou.

I'd have to put in a vote for the cheesesteak. The way the elements cohere into one gooey perfect filling in the soft but firm bread is just ... well, sometimes it's the thing I just have to have (South Jersey raised here, NYC now, and 99 Miles from Philly does a good enough rendition to satisfy the cravings, if imperfect). I agree that brisket is important too, though. A good Jewish deli hot brisket on club roll with gravy is a fantastic thing. And my sister lived in Buffalo for five years or so; I think she began to suspect that I visited her as much for the beef on weck as to see her and my niece. I don't know why beef on weck is literally completely unavailable outside that area. I'd think someone would try to introduce it here downstate. I've never had a truly good French dip, though I've probably never tried one in the right venue. I also love a great thinly sliced rare roast beef sandwich on sourdough or maybe ciabatta with mayo, horseradish, Worcestershire, Jarlsberg, a little arugula or watercress, but good cold rare roast beef has become almost impossible to find unless you roast it yourself.

Hi! I'm new to posting, but not to reading here. This topic is interesting. I've found that I start as a recipe-follower with a technique or cuisine that's new to me. Once I've made a number of dishes following recipes using that technique or within that cuisine, I move on to looking at recipes for ideas, inspiration, and then modifying them to make them my own. Once I'm truly confident with a technique or a particular set of flavors I've become fond of, I don't use recipes at all. So, for me, recipes are valuable, no matter how experienced I am, since there are always new techniques and flavor combinations for me to learn. On the other hand, I think it is incredibly valuable to have a base of essential (whatever that means to you) techniques and flavor combinations that you know and love, and know how to manipulate and play with without any recipes. No one could possibly have that total familiarity with all world cuisines, so my view has become that it is useful to focus on a few cuisines that most interest you (and that perhaps you already have familiarity with) and become knowledgeable and confident with them, because there is huge value in being able to improvise. But then gradually work out to other cuisines using recipes as learning tools.

Hi -- This is my first post on eGullet, though I've been lurking for years and years. Shelby, your fabulous blog helped to pull me out of lurkdom, so thank you! I loved it all so much, and was frustrated that I couldn't comment (not that I haven't been frustrated before, but I was *extra* frustrated this time!) Especially since I am considering buying farmland and would love to pick your brain And I would even more love to participate in this discussion. I truly believe that the books I loved as a child led me to my love of cooking, and the Laura Ingalls Wilder books were a huge part of this. I haven't looked back at the books yet, but the town/country parties in Plum Creek (I think) come to mind right away! Ma's crispy little cakes! Lovely. Oh! Oh! And I just had a conversation with my sister a few weeks ago about how I read and reread ad nauseum the description of the perfect kitchen and pantry Almanzo built for Laura in (I think) The First Four Years. Anyway, the short book where they move into that fantastic kitchen [house] and then everything goes to hell like it always does in Ingalls-Wilder territory. I think heidih is so right -- the joy of literary food, simple or fancy, is all in the description. How lovingly, gorgeously, lusciously is the food described? So... also Lord of the Rings, just in bits, but those bits are major for me -- the bacon and mushrooms in the first volume. I can't read that without violently craving bacon and mushrooms. Little Women and other Louisa May Alcott books also have some great food descriptions tied so wonderfully closely to character (like the Little House books). Just to start, the description in the very beginning of Little Women of the Christmas brunch the girls give away, all dripping with butter, etc. Jo and her crisp apples... the blancmange Jo takes to Laurie. Or the so dramatic incident of Amy's pickled limes! And, much later, Amy's attempt to be "fancy," and her finally wise decision to be simple as Marmee suggests. I could go on forever, but instead I will look into my set of Little House books and plan to cook something from them to show here!