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How about when you actually discourage friends and family from giving you cooking/kitchen stuff for Christmas because: a.) you have enough, and b.), if you don't have a particular desideratum, you know EXACTLY what it is you want, and they'll never get you the right thing, even if you bang it on their heads screaming, "I want this one, THIS! ONE! there is NO! NEED! to 'upgrade,' Dad." Issues? What? *twitch*

Ooh! i would like more details of this recipe. Sound interesting.... ← I fear I'm not so good with details. I'm more of a seat of the pants cook, especially when I braise. I usually rub the ribs with salt and cinnamon, and let them sit over night. Sear the ribs in peanut oil, lard, what have you, in a large, deep saute pan, then set the ribs aside. Deglaze the pan with a splash of tequila, add veggies (onions,carrots, celery or fennel, maybe a poblano or a few jalapeno chiles), brown them a bit, then return the ribs to pan. Add stock to cover no more than 1/3 of the ribs, a splash of cider vinegar, season with a couple black peppercorns and a touch of Mexican oregano, maybe more cinnamon, a touch of ground chipotle if you want.... Voila. Cook in a low oven, checking occassionally to turn the ribs over, taste for seasoning, etc.

Ooh! And country-style pork ribs braised in tequila, chicken stock, and cider vinegar with mexican oregano and cinnamon!

Good grief. Lamb shanks, pheasant legs, short ribs, duck legs, pork belly, chuck roast.... The other night I braised squab legs I'd marinated in (sheep's milk) yogurt with tamarind, fenugreek, cinnamon, and cloves. They're tiny things, just a couple bites each, so braising time was only 25 minutes or so, braised in the yogurt mixture and squab stock. As a lover of poultry and game, I'll braise the legs of any bird unwary enough to wind up in my kitchen. Recipes vary, but I'm almost always pleased with the results and a satisfying braise can often be accomplished in an hour or two rather than the several hours required for lamb or veal shanks and the like, putting a braise within the range of a not-too-extraordinary week night dinner.

You know, it's true. I think I've learned more chemistry and physics learning to cook over the past couple than I ever learned in highschool or college. It's rather embarrassing that I'm just now discovering that science can be fun. On the other hand, it's had its pitfalls. Never, ever let yourself get stuck explaining induction burners to a physicist.

I'm very much in the butchering camp. I dunno if it's machismo, a desire to better understand a craft I love, or just penny-pinching, but I'd rather break down anything myself, from chickens and rabbits on up to cows (er, not that I get the chance to buy a whole cow very often, or at all). Besides, in my area of the world, finding a butcher is very, very difficult. If I cut my own meat, I have a chance of doing it right. Buying meat pre-packaged from the supermarket, on the other hand, almost ensures I'll get two lopsided chops of differing shape and size.

Haven't posted to this thread in ages, but I'm trying to find some way of memorializing the better meals I cook. I'm tired of vividly remembering the failures and also rans while the good meals are relegated to some dim half-life in the back of my mind. I've been on an Indian spices jag of late, so last night was 1/2 rack of lamb marinated in yogurt spiked with blood orange and cardamom, seared and roasted in a hot oven, and served separated into four, pretty, rare chops over basmati rice with bay and cloves alongside yaller squash, spiced with coriander and fenugreek, with "brown-fried" onions, ginger, garlic, and chiles all served with a chile-garlic tomato relish, the cooking of which cleared me out of the kitchen, nearly killed my girlfriend in the dining area, and forced the resident feline to hide, yowling, in a closet. Very spicy chiles, methinks. ...I would change the formatting of this post, but pretend I'm William Carlos Williams for the day.

I've been to the Melting Pot in Arlington quite recently, kind of against my will. It's not bad, but.... Um. You know what? Scratch that. It is bad. Really. There's nothing there you can't do better at home, and for far less money. Paying for night out during which I'm expected to cook my own food in someone else's heavy, greasy, tasteless goo is not my idea of fun. The Melting Pot is an "experience," one, apparently, you can't avoid if you live in this area long enough, and, with the right friends, it's a fun enough time, I guess, but if it's good food you're after, ignore the peer pressure and do your own fondue.

It's a small affair, but it's great good fun. You'll never find exotic veggies or whole sides of venison or the like, but greens, peppers, chiles, mushrooms, tomatoes, apples etc. are abundant and fresh. It runs Spring through Autumn on Saturday mornings, 8-12. Er. Give this a looksee.

Hanh-ah-Reum is the Aitch in Supah Aitch Mart. The same craziness, in a smaller space. If I feel inferior in Super H, I usually wind up a trip to Hanh-ah-Reum (aka "Trapmart" in my house and among my friends) clutching my squab (they sell squab!) feverishly and gibbering. Never, ever go there late in the day on a weekend. Utter. fucking. bedlam. Go to Bangkok 54. Very yummy pork belly. Good for hangovers.

Also, in the same complex as Bangkok 54 on Columbia Pike (near Walter Reed), there's an Asian grocery called, um, Bangkok 54. I only stopped in there for a minute this weekend, but was impressed. Hell, I found palm sugar. That's cool, right?

The one I was thinking of seems to be a summer-only thing, but this one seems to go year-round. I work in Arlington rather than live in it, so I'm usually at the Del Ray farmer's market in the summer, and eating supermarket root vegetables in the winter. ...Come to think of it, I should try to go to the Arlingtton market more often. Er, at all. As for hypermarkets, Harris Teeter can't compete with Super H, but then, nothing can. The only supermarket chain I know of whose patrons can turn milling about apparently lost and aimless into an organized agressive action that would impress Napolean. My shopping-fu is weak, weak, weak.

There's a Harris Teeter up at Glebe and Randolph (I think?), just before Wilson. If you go up Wilson, there's a Farmer's Market Saturdays near Clarendon Metro, and, further up, a Whole Foods with a decent, Whole Foody butcher. If, from Columbia Pike you turn left on Glebe and go down to where it divides into North-South and East-West Glebes, right near 395 exit, you'll see M. Slavins, a dandy fishmonger on the Alexandria-Arlington border. Welcome to Glebeland. edit: If you dunno Harris-Teeter btw (many MDers don't, I know), the reason we Virginians are so excited by it is that it's a run-of-the-mill grocery store with aspirations. It's just a touch better than your average Safeway, Giant, or what-have-you.

Discovering Del Ray would be the best thing you could do if you want good, cheap food near your work. I've lived here for 5 years or so now, and I'm in the process of buying a tiny house in the area for a prince's fortune just because I cannot bear to live elsewhere. I love to cook and do so frequently, but I'm even downsizing my precious, precious kitchen space in this move because, living out of walking distance from Taqueria Poblano or Bombay Curry Company? that's not living, that's listlessly inhabiting some grey half-life where fabulous chicken kadai, margaritas, and crispy pork tacos aren't available at whim. Who'd want that? If work is bad (and when is it not?), you can burn it off with Bombay Curry Company's awesome vindaloo or drown your sorrows in tequila and tacos at the Taqueria. Go to both estabishments, Eunny, as quickly as you can. And, if I ever do follow through and leave my SO for the lamb at Eve, I'd still be willing to cheat on the lamb with Jill Erber's cheeses. Cheesetique could be the first step on a path leading to a severe dairy fetish.

No (other than the ones that specifically mention being close to Iota, like Minh's.) Most of the places people are talking about are in Shirlington, which is off 395. Iota is between Clarendon and Court House metro, which are near I66 - but it's closer to Clarendon. The food Iota serves isn't bad, if Boulevard Woodgrill's full. Ray's, which is closer to Court House, is not outside the realm of walking distance from Iota when it's not 20 degrees outside, but you probably wouldn't want to walk it at the moment. There's a Hard Times right next to Clarendon metro, and Ireland's Four Courts is across the street. If you're really desperate, there's a Cheesecake Factory and a branch of La Tasca. ← And, right across the street from Clarendon metro is the Delhi Club. Very good Indian food.

For Thanksgiving, I was given the task of cooking the sweet potatoes. Which I loathe. In an effort to make those hideous orange tubers into something edible, I made a sweet potato gratin. It worked, kind of. Everyone else liked it. I still thought it tasted of sweet potatoes. In a small (8" or so) cast iron skillet, I cooked 2 slices of bacon slowly. I crumbled the cooked bacon, reserved the rendered fat, chopped some thyme, and minced a small clove of garlic. I heated some cream, added the garlic, and let the mixture cool. Then, I sliced some sweet potatoes really thin. In the same cast iron skillet, in a tablespoon or so of the reserved bacon fat, I layered the sweet potato rounds, then brushed on a bit of the garlic cream and sprinkled a bit of the thyme and bacon bits. I added the second layer of sweet potatoes, brushed with cream, sprinkled thyme and bacon. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. When the gratin was constructed, I brushed the top layer with a touch of bacon fat, covered the iron skillet with aluminum foil, and baked it in the bottom of a 375 degree oven for 45 minutes or an hour, then removed the foil and turned up the heat a tad to crisp the top. It's not a dieting dish, but, hell, it was Thanksgiving.

You may want to take a look too at Peterson's Essentials of Cooking. It's less formal in tone than the CIA thing, but it covers much of what you need. iirc, eGulleteer Suzanne F did a review of the CIA cookbook a while back that you might want to read before you pick it up. It's around here somewhere. edit: Aha!

Because I don't have cable, I'm not as keen to hate Food TV as most here -- I still salivate at the chance to watch Rachel Ray giggle or Emeril BAM! something, if only because it's novel. So, I *quite* enjoyed Iron Chef America (at a friend's) last night. It is not diehard, serious foodie tv, nor is it a culinary olympics in miniature, but it is great good fun, and chance to cheer for your side while watching someone roll out masa rather than a guy in a helmet patting another on the ass. Even if the contestants were Heckel and Jeckel I think I'd watch it, and, despite my issues with both Flay and Bayless, I thought it was exciting as hell to watch two serious chefs cook in such a goofy-but-intense forum. Whether or not ICA can stand up to the camp and cultishness of the original I cannot say, but, in its own right, its got me hooked. And Bayless was totally robbed.

Hrm. I stopped by Bangkok 54 Saturday for lunch, mostly as a lark, because I was hungover, tired, cranky, and wanted something spicy. I could not have been happier with my decision. To start, my SO and I shared larb (we were hungover, duh) and fried shrimp cakes. Both were delectable, with the larb standing out as one of the better exemplars of the species in the area. The much-touted balance of hot, sour, salty, sweet was perfectly executed in this dish, and, though larb is never bad, I was thrilled to a version so good. The shrimp cakes, similarly, were perfectly done, and were a thrill to look at to boot. For an entree, my girlfriend stuck with ... Pad Prik Pow? Pork, chile, green beans. At any rate, it was wonderfully seasoned, despite the green beans needing just a touch more cooking. My pork belly with basil and chile, however, was to die for, and might rank among the best experiences I've ever had in a Thai restaurant. The taste and texture of the meat --here crispy fried, here soft and gelatinous, here shredded and giving and throughout salty and perfumed with basil-- was simply divine. In short, I liked it. Whether the service and cooking suffer during busy periods I could not say, but the service was quite attentive and helpful during Saturday lunch, and the cooking, save for the green beans, couldn't be faulted.

I think you mean "saucy minx." Hope this helps! (It was a good meal, AB. Good on yer.)

So, yesterday, my SO got a super, you-are-special raise and bonus. To celebrate, she took me to dinner at Eve. Poor thing, I had to leave her to marry the lamb I had for dinner. It was a lamb-tasting special, see, with braised shank, roasted loin(? leg?), short-ribs, and a single chop served with a buttery, quartered brussels sprout, some potatoes awash in lamb jus, and a bit of rapini that almost made me do Things One Does Not Do in Public. It was one of those wonderful meals that makes you cry at the very first bite because you know, with a sickening certainty, that there will come a last bite, and the idea of continuing to live after the meal is gone is a bitter, bitter fate not to be wished upon the lowest telemarketer. I actually asked our waiter to kiss the chef for me; sadly, our otherwise accomodating waiter seemed a bit thrown by that idea. But, O! this lamb. The shank was pulled from the bone and finely shredded, and tasted like it had been cooked for hours in the very essence of lamb. The short-rib was crispy outside, tender within, and rivaled the very best rib experieces I've ever had. The loin/leg bits were very very good, but were completely overshadowed by the lamb chop. Now, I've eaten rack of lamb and lamb chops in myriad places, and I enjoy it very much. But, hell, a lamb chop is a lamb chop, right? There's not much you can do to make a lamb chop a religious experience, and, to boot, I was so in love with the shank and the rib that I figured the chop was destined to be an also-ran. I was stunned by this chop. It was as though the cute but mousey girl in English Class took off her glasses, let down her hair and revealed herself to be the most stunning exemplar of the female form ever to have existed, and then turned out to be able to quote Shakespeare from memory, read Samuel Beckett for fun, and think Black Adder the funniest thing ever, excepting, maybe, you (warning: Your fantasies May Vary). This chop, this noble-but-destined-to-be-slightly-dull chop, was the very Platonic form of lamb. The first bite had me going through ecstasies St. Teresa of Avila would envy. This trend continued to the point where I went totally fucking feral and began gnawing the bone. In public. In a fine-dining restaurant. Grunting as I gnawed. My girlfriend had the salmon. It was very good, but it was no lamb. I also had mussels, which were very, very good, but they were no lamb. If you have the time, go to Eve. Find out if the lamb special still lives, or if it was a one night stand. If the lamb special continues, order it. At all costs, anyone who likes food MUST HAVE THIS LAMB. Go. Eat. Quickly, you fools, before the lamb is gone! PS: the seasonal cocktail, a lime and Absolut Citron concoction sweetened and colored with mashed pomegranate seeds, is also pretty damn cool.

I've frozen tomato water into cubes used in frou-frou cocktails and once in a chilled cucumber soup. The result I got was a grainy sort of freeze, like a granita gone too hard, rather than the unified mass you get from freezing water. My tomato water was not, however, perfectly clear, but a tad on the yellowish side, so I suspect there were minute particles present, which might have affected the way it froze.

I was in this past Saturday and got the Cowgirl Creamery Mount Tam and a piece of Taleggio. Both were divine. It was my first trip to Cheesetique (I'd been in SC), and I have to say I was damned impressed -- the selection isn't as large as some I've seen, but it's quality, and it feels like the first time in ages I've bought two pieces of cheese together and not found that at least one of them smelled of cat pee when I got it home. Cheese-buying has equaled gambling for me for so long, I don't how how to approach cheeses that have been treated with such obvious love and care. It's a whole new experience. Ms. Erber's my hero.

Hrm. I dunno that the organy note I detect is due to a lack of freshness. It might be that, as unused to organ meat as I am (I am a USAian after all ), I'm more sensitive to the slightest hint of innardsy taste. Hell, I know people who find hanger steak has an organy taste. I guess YMMV. I'm wondering if busboy's not right about the richness of sweetbreads lending itself to brown sauces over white. That said, I think tangy, lemony sauces will do you just as well, classical pairings be damned. If anyone needs me, I'll be off enjoying my foie gras with a dry red wine.

I've had sweetbreads lightly floured and pan-fried, served with a lemon butter sauce (which makes sense, what with the frying and all). This seems to me a better way to go all than the traditional brown sauce, which, I agree, seems a bit much. I can only assume the brown sauce is traditional because it stands up to the organy whiffiness (to use the technical term) of sweetbreads, which, though subtle, is certainly a large part of sweetbreads' presence. It occurs to me, too, that sweetbreads might be paired with darker sauces for reasons of coloring: I can't recall -- do sweetbreads "bleed" much? what color are their juices? If they give off pinkish juices, cooks might avoid lighter colored sauces just 'cause they'd look ghastly on a plate.