JAZ

I have an old one from Sunset's Bread Cookbook that might be similar. Are yours pan rolls? Mine only take one rise, but they're really light and fluffy. They call for a lot of melted butter in the pan before you plot them in, and then a lot more poured over the top after they rise. If this sounds like it's similar, I'd be happy to share it.

I'm not sure what a "traditional" Scotch glass looks like -- I've have Scotch served in everything from a rocks glass to a brandy snifter. But these are what Riedel makes for single malts. Personally, I like the shape and feel of another Riedel glass for sipping whisky -- the "Viogner/Chardonnay" glass in the "O" series. Although I'm not crazy about these glasses for wine, the Viogner O glass makes a great glass for other things. I use it as a rocks glass, and for sipping spirits.

I have a skillet made by Look that's coated with their nonstick coating on the outside -- the key is that only the sides are coated; the bottom is uncoated aluminum. Maybe that's how the All-Clad pans are constructed.

Did anyone else happen to notice that the ingredients listed for each of the dishes were for an entire dish (1 12-lb goose, etc), and the serving sizes weren't mentioned? Makes it difficult to interpret their figures. I mean, I wonder how much goose you'd have to eat to reach 784 calories? My usual source, Food Counts, lists roasted goose (with skin) at 346 calories for 4 ounces. So I guess they're thinking of a serving of 9 ounces or so? Likewise, they list 300 calories for creamed corn -- I see creamed corn listed at 80 to 120 calories for a half cup. Apparently they think a serving is a cup and a half?

You may think I've given up on my resolution to follow recipes, but that is not the case. I've just become a little more selective in choosing recipes to follow. My latest was gazpacho from La Cocina de Mama by Penelope Casas. For those unfamiliar with the book, it's a collection of family recipes from some of Spain's best chefs. But before I get to the recipe, a little background on my gazpacho quest. I first made gazpacho from a recipe in a magazine way back when I started cooking. It was the fairly common tomato-juice-with-pureed-and-chopped-vegetables type of recipe: a sort of V-8 on steroids. It was a good and serviceable recipe, and there is nothing wrong with it, except that it's not terribly authentic. (As I came to discover, most gazpacho recipes out there are not terribly authentic.) Then, after years of making the same recipe with the occasional minor alteration, I tasted a fabulous gazpacho at a short-lived Spanish restaurant near my office. No chunks of vegetables floating in V-8; this was a thick puree with perfectly blended flavors and a haunting undertone that I knew on some level, but couldn't quite place. I had it as often as I could while the restaurant was open, which turned out to be not nearly long enough. The truly sad thing was that it didn't occur to me to try to analyze the gazpacho while I could. I had to rely on my memory, which was not very complete. So I began a search for a gazpacho recipe that seemed similar. None were -- time after time, I'd see the same variations on V-8 plus diced vegetables. Sometimes the recipes would call for thickening with bread or almonds, and I tried a couple of those, but they still didn't seem to be what I remembered. When I saw a new Spanish cookbook, La Cocina de Mama, I automatically checked the index for a gazpacho recipe; there was one. It was different from any others I'd seen -- no cucumber; no onion, even. Tomatoes (lots of tomatoes), one red bell pepper, garlic, a small chunk of bread, sherry vinegar, olive oil, plus a dash of salt and sugar. An optional dash of cumin, and that was it. I bought the book, and picked up two pounds of tomatoes at the farmers' market. As it turned out, the recipe couldn't have been easier -- prep consisted of quartering the tomatoes, cutting the bell pepper in chunks, and chopping the garlic. Throw half the tomatoes and everything else except the olive oil into the food processor. Puree. With the motor running, add the remaining tomatoes. (I have to say, I don't get the rationale for this step, but I was going to do it exactly as written, so I did.) Then pour in the olive oil slowly so the whole thing emulsifies. Strain, and you're done. The result was a silky smooth soup that tasted like the essence of summer. The cumin provided that remembered undertone of flavor -- barely there, but spectacular with the tomato. The only flaw -- a minor one -- was the sugar. The tomatoes I used were not very acidic, and I wondered about adding sugar. But I was determined to follow the recipe exactly, so I tossed it in despite my misgivings. The soup was, as I expected, too sweet, but that was easily remedied with a touch more sherry vinegar. The second time I made it, I omitted the sugar, and the soup was perfect. My only regret was finding this recipe at the tail end of summer, so I only made it twice before the beautiful vine-ripened tomatoes faded from sight. (This is not a recipe for anything less than spectacular tomatoes.) Now I'll have to wait until next summer to try it again. After all that, was it the gazpacho of my memories? Not really -- that soup was thicker, more coarsely pureed than this one. But on some deeper level, it was what I was looking for. And maybe there's a time to give up a memory.

I can't remember when I last updated my count, so I'm guessing here. At the very least, I've acquired Secrets From a Caterer's Kitchen, La Cocina de Mama, Candies, Truffles and Confections, Boulevard, Proscuitto, Pancetta Salame (the latest from Pamela Sheldon Johns), and Rick Tramato's Amuse-Bouche, which I found on sale for $5. So that's six.

Also, don't forget that butter can contain quite a bit of water, which can make a big difference to the texture of the cookies. The only time I tried to sub butter for Crisco, it was a disaster.

I use stainless lined pans as well for sugar, although I used to use my Le Creuset when that was all I had. I agree that caramel is one of the easiest things in the world to clean up. It might seem like that crusty sugar glaze will never come off, but really hot water does it every time. (If your tap water isn't hot enough, just fill the pan with boiling water.)

I have more counterspace in this kitchen than I've ever had before (which isn't saying much) but I still don't like it cluttered up with stuff. Balancing that, though, is the fact that I also hate to have to drag my bigger appliances (stand mixer and food processor) out of a cupboard everytime I want to use them, plus the amount of cupboard space they take up if stored. My answer is a microwave cart, positioned at the end of my counter, which holds my blender, mixer and processor. They don't take up the prep area but they're easily accessible. On the counter itself are only my coffemaker and grinder. Ideally, I'd like to not have them out, but they're small, and since I use them every day, it's just too much trouble to get them out and put them away every morning. The microwave, which is tiny, sits on top of the fridge -- not terribly convenient, but I rarely use it, so it's fine. The only other appliances I have are a toaster (it gets used most every day, but I never leave it out) and an ice cream maker (it doesn't get used often enough to vie for microwave cart space). Oh, and a couple of blade coffee grinders that get used for spices -- they stay in the pantry.

Drewe's doesn't have a huge selection in their shop, but they can (and will) order for you. I'm not sure about goat, but it's worth a call. Drewes Brothers

Why not use the same ingredients you're marinating the tuna in to make the dressing for the greens? And I agree about skipping the marinade for the filet and finishing it with a compound butter.

In the San Francisco Bay Area, I notice the same wild discrepancies in the price of limes. Fortunately for me, the produce store a couple of blocks from my house usually has them for 10-20 cents apiece (5-10 for a dollar). I can occasionally find them 20 for a dollar at the Hispanic markets. Two for a dollar is pretty standard at the big chain grocery stores, which is strange, because even the little corner market on my way home from work sells them for 35 cents or so. Most of the limes I buy go into cocktails, although some of them make it into marinades, salsas and salad dressings. Sometimes I zest them before juicing and use the zest to make simple syrup.

Daniel Patterson talks about Northern California cuisine -- its merits and limitations -- in the New York Times Style section. To the Moon, Alice? (I believe free access is limited to a couple of days.) Is he right? Has Chez Panisse ruined culinary creativity in the Bay Area?

Over in the Fall Cocktails thread, Audrey Saunders posted this recipe for the Velvet Harvest, which calls for apple schnapps.

There's also Bendistillery from Oregon, makers of Cascade gin, among other products.

I'm lucky to have a book-sized shelf running the width of my dining nook (about 7 feet long) -- seemed like the natural place for my cookbooks. When I moved in three years ago, there was space on it in front of one of the windows for the cats to sit; now it's completely full. I also have a small (2-foot, 3-shelf) bookcase in the entryway that houses the food reference and literary books, as well as my spirits and cocktails books. Then there's the small (1-foot wide, 4-shelf) baker's rack in my office area. At one time, it used to hold all my cookbooks -- now two shelfs hold cooking magazines and the last shelf holds extra cookbooks I don't use very much but can't quite seem to give away. My space is full now, though, so I'm not sure what I'll do next.

For many more stories of kitchen mistakes, check out "I Will Never Again. . ."

Another vote for Martha's book. Also Eric Treuille's Hors d'Oeuvres and Barbara Kafka's Party Foods.

I've made a Southwestern rice salad with black beans, corn, roasted green chiles, red peppers, and green onions, tossed with a lime-jalapeno-cilantro dressing. It goes very well with chili, and it can be made the day before. Another salad idea is julienned jicama, red peppers, orange segments, red onion, and avocado with a chipotle-orange-lime dressing. This can mostly be made ahead -- just don't add the avocado until right before serving.

Sur La Table carries it too.

Maggie, it's refreshing to read something about the other side of eating. When my sister went though the same procedure, I tried to help by making her the best broths I could -- chicken and beef. As broths go, they were fabulous, and I know she appreciated them; she told me so. But still, I so wanted to add stuff to them. From a cook's perspective, it was tough. I imagine it was much worse from the other side.

I did, once, buy a jar of green olives stuffed with a small piece of lemon zest. Those were nice in a martini, but not as nice as a plain twist.

A few ideas occur to me that might work for you. The first is to begin with "long" drinks -- that is, drinks that are served in tall glasses over ice -- rather than cocktails (relatively stronger drinks served up in smaller glasses). The burn you feel might be cut by the extra dilution of the alcohol. Also, many of these drinks are topped with something carbonated: soda, ginger beer or ale, tonic, or even champagne. Although carbonation has its own sort of "bite," it definitely mitigates the burning sensation from the alcohol. That might be why you like champagne better than still wine, and why you liked the mojito you tried. Third, as you noticed, enough sweetness can lessen the burn too. As I mentioned in the course, I'm not crazy about sweet cocktails, but I do like many that have a sweet and sour profile -- Margaritas, Daiquiris, Sidecars, for example. You might want to try some sweeter or sweet and sour cocktails and see if those are easier on your palate. I'll think about some specific drink recipes and post them for you later.

Pamela Sheldon Johns has a wild mushroom lasagne recipe in her book Parmigiano! I haven't made it, but I had it ages ago at a class she taught, and it was great. Essentially, you layer a bechamel sauce with sauteed wild mushrooms (she sautes them with garlic and some sliced yellow bell peppers and seasons with parsley and thyme) and the cooked lasagne noodles. Top with a lot of fresh parmesan cheese and bake. (Sorry, I couldn't find a link to the actual recipe.)

I've noticed a different viscosity between the syrups I make with white sugar and with demerara; the latter seems much thicker. I haven't been really careful measuring -- that is, I make a 2-1 syrup, but I don't weigh my ingredients, I measure them. So I'm not sure whether the difference is due to something in the different sugars, or the way they measure out. When I get some spare time, I hope to do some more experimentation, weighing ingredients and being more careful in general. When I get around to that, I'll post my results.