mags

I feel very much the same, Jinmyo. Watching "Mama" happily dump canned breadcrumbs into her secret recipe for meatballs kinda did it for me. Though for what it's worth, I've eaten at Union Pacific twice, and actively hated the food, so maybe I'm just not a RdS-kinda gal.

I guess I don't understand why what I eat somehow equates to being rude or gracious to you. I can certainly understand how I CAN be rude to you with reference to what I eat, like the woman who insisted on having her chicken skin removed. But if I choose to keep kosher or be a vegetarian, if blue cheese makes me gag, how on earth is that not being gracious to my host? This all reminds me quite a lot of the thread about customers making special requests in restaurants, which ultimately seemed to me to be about control -- about who gets to control the meal. And you seem to be saying that if I exercise any preferences -- if I opt not to eat porkchops or pasta or blue cheese -- I am rudely stealing control of the meal from you. And since it's MY mouth that this meal is going into, I don't really see where your control comes into it. Again, if I make some kind of fuss, it's a different story. First off, if you're keeping kosher, you need to tell your host/hostess, and if they are not following your dietary laws, you're just out of luck in my opinion, unless they decide to accomodate you. By that same token, if you know you have a long list of "don't eats" again I think the host/hostess deserves ample notification at which point he/she can either accomodate or not. If the menu has been planned, you may have to wait for the next round of invites when kosher/vegetarian/vegan/etc might be served. I don't see it as a negative "control" issue so much as quite often someone may decide to try a particular menu out with some friends and I think the choice of that menu is up to the cook. I don't think the host is obligated to accomodate because it may not be in the best interest time or budget wise. I think the person offering to go to the effort deserves that much control. If the cook wants to make a separate meal to accomodate each diner's preferences , then go for it. But if that menu isn't suitable to you, then as I said, just wait and see what's being served next time around. Part of this also depends on how well you know the host. A very close friend or family member will likely accomodate. If you're vegetarian, you probably wouldn't dine in a steakhouse that didn't so much as have a salad bar, so why go to someone's house and sit through a meal that will go against your prefences or worse, make you gag? It may be best to drop by for coffee and dessert afterwards instead. I pretty much come back to the notion that both the guest and the host have some responbility for all this. The guest should A) make his dietary needs clear ahead of time, and B) either eat what's put in front of him (while making enthusiastic noises) or quietly and inconspicuously avoid it. Meanwhile, the host should A) take his guests' needs into account as much as possible, and B) butt the hell out of which of his dishes his guests ultimately choose to eat. If I have invited people to dinner and I know that one or more of them keeps kosher, I can't imagine choosing to serve pork or scallops. That seems to me to be staggeringly rude, a deliberate decision to ignore my guest's needs.

I generally mix Splenda half/half with erythritol, sometimes going a bit heavier on the latter. BTW, it is not liquid; it's available in granular and powdered form. Yes, nut flours add a lot of fat; that's something low-carb dieters aren't particularly concerned about, as a rule, although I don't know any who eat high-fat sweets as anything other than an occasional treat. If you want to try cooking either low-carb or sugar-free, I would strongly suggest, again, that you take a look at some of the cookbooks that address these particular topics. Both flour substitutes and sugar substitutes can be used to produce good-tasting baked goods, but they don't behave exactly like the products they're replacing, and you'll save yourself a lot of trouble (not to mention a lot of expensive ingredients) if you do a little research ahead of time and build on other people's trial and error.

Yeah, any specialty diet stuff is horrendously expensive. I buy erythritol in one-pound packages from lowcarbdieters.com, but you might be able to get it wholesale from them. I've also heard tell of some people who buy it in bulk; if you do a Google search for it, you might come up with a source. If you really want to make products for the low-carb market it might be useful to read some of the diet books -- the various Atkins books, or the Protein Power books -- to get a solid sense of what is and isn't legal. I would also suggest picking up a couple of the cookbooks -- Dana Carpender's book, perhaps, and Diana Lee's -- and following those recipes, so you can get familiar with the problems and possibilities of low-carb baking.

I don't like Splenda straight, or most products sweetened only with Splenda -- it has a nasty aftertaste, to me, though nowhere near as awful as Equal, etc. I've had the best results blending Splenda with sugar-alchohols, notably erythritol, which has two advantages: It has almost zero impact on blood-sugar (which is what low-carb dieters -- and diabetics, I believe -- are concerned about) and doesn't seem to have any of the laxative effects that plague a lot of the other SA's (or, more exactly, people who use them ). On its own, erythritol has a minty side-taste; mixing it with Splenda seems to cover that, while the erythritol gets rid of the nasty back-taste of the Splenda. A few months ago, for a magazine, I put together a tasting panel of about 10 people (some of whom were eating low-carb and some of whom were definitely not) to evaluate a whole passel of low-carb products. The two categories in which manufacturers have clearly gotten it together are bread and chocolates. As a group, we particularly liked the Pure De-Lite truffles, about which I've already enthused, and the bread and bagels made by Synergy Diet. The sweet baked goods -- the muffins and cookies, etc. -- were pretty stunningly mediocre. Edible, by and large, if you were really jonesing for a cookie, but nothing I would ever feed to guests. Interestingly, the Pure De-Lite peanut butter cookies were particularly puke-worthy. I would second the suggestion of checking out the LowCarbLuxury website. You might also want to look at Diana Lee's three books about low-carb baking and sweets, all of them available from Amazon.

Pure De-Lite truffles are the way to go, IMO. Seriously, seriously good. Great texture, and a taste that -- to me at least -- is pretty much indistinguishible from upper-middle-class chocs. I'm a big fan of the espresso and orange flavors, but my pal likes the hazelnut and peanut butter. GNC sells'em by the piece (if I bought them by the box I would eat the box, probably including the cardboard). For cooking, I use Choco-Love, an organic, sugar-sweetened chocolate made in Colorado. Their Strong Dark version has a particularly high amount of fiber (lotta cocoa beans), which brings the carb count down to very reasonable levels. It's not El Rey, but it's some majorly good chocolate and it makes a killer flourless fudge cake that even carb-happy friends have devoured. FWIW, my information is that the lactitol that's used as a sweetener in the Hershey's sugar-free chocolates is particularly notable for its, ummm....bathroom effects. Maltitol (which is used in the Pure De-Lite truffles) seems to be less troublesome, at least in small (read: one or two pieces) doses. Best of all the sugar-alchohols is erythritol (best meaning fewest reported laxative problems and lowest blood-sugar impact), but while you can buy that straight, almost no processed chocs are being made with it at the moment. Works really well for making your own, though.

When I was acting, people would come backstage to tell me how wonderful I was -- because that's the polite thing to do after you've seen someone you know in a play -- and I would behave attrociously. I would say "Oh, thanks, but I thought it was just.........that thing in the second act, with the clock, that worked so much better the other night. And in the scene with Schmendrick, I was just NOT connecting, you know? Blah blah blah." My mother finally knocked my head against the wall and explained that PART OF THE JOB was saying "Ohhh, thank you, I'm so glad you enjoyed it." And then shutting up.

I guess I don't understand why what I eat somehow equates to being rude or gracious to you. I can certainly understand how I CAN be rude to you with reference to what I eat, like the woman who insisted on having her chicken skin removed. But if I choose to keep kosher or be a vegetarian, if blue cheese makes me gag, how on earth is that not being gracious to my host? This all reminds me quite a lot of the thread about customers making special requests in restaurants, which ultimately seemed to me to be about control -- about who gets to control the meal. And you seem to be saying that if I exercise any preferences -- if I opt not to eat porkchops or pasta or blue cheese -- I am rudely stealing control of the meal from you. And since it's MY mouth that this meal is going into, I don't really see where your control comes into it. Again, if I make some kind of fuss, it's a different story.

I loved the article, partly because I've been thinking about this question lately. And what I keep coming round to is moderation and balance. No, I don't think guests should in any way try to control the menu ("Thanks for inviting me, and please know that I don't like cheese or celery"). But at the same time, I don't think they're obligated to eat anything they don't want, and it doesn't matter if that preference is a function of health, religion, diet, or just plain I Don't Like Celery. It is, of course, insanely rude to make a fuss about something you've been served ("Ew, chicken skin!") but it is equally rude of a host to stare at the guest's plate and say "Wassa matter, you didn't like the chicken skin?" I post a fair amount to a board for people on low-carb diets -- of which I am one -- and the question of how to deal with family dinners comes up a lot. While I don't expect my family to serve steak and lobster just on my account (on account of delicious would be another story ), I would also find it pretty appalling if, knowing my dietary aims, they insisted on presenting me with nothing but garlic bread and lasagne -- something that has apparently happened to a number of my fellow-dieters on more than one occasion. So, moderation. If you're a guest, don't be a pain in the ass about your preferences. If you're a host, butt out of your guests' plates, and pay a decent amount of attention to their stated dietary desires. Oooh, two more rules. 1. Just because I'm not eating the polenta doesn't mean I get to hog the veal chops. 2. There ARE settings in which, yes, you do have eat a bit of everything (Janet's cricket-eating friend comes to mind).

A few years ago, Tony Bourdain had a party for one of his novels at my bookstore. Since the book was set in the tropics, he came up with an elaborate punch recipe, involving a jillion different liqueurs, hand-squeezed passion-fruit, and some ultra-swanky moonshine he had personally hauled from Latin America. The underwear-model/girlfiend of one of the guests took a big swig and trilled "Oooh, this is so good! Is it vodka and Tang?"

I just got an All-Clad roaster at the Broadway Panhandler sale, for about 60% off retail, so the price makes me happy. And the size is good, and they threw in a free rack. However, I find the handles bizarre. They curve in, toward the roast, meaning that if you want to grab the handles -- you know, actually USE them -- you have to do it be inserting your hand into the handle (which is essentially an open rectangle, with the top of the pan forming the bottom end). That wouldn't be a problem, except that the opening in the handle -- the insert-your-paw-here bit -- is barely three fingers wide, and that's without any kind of potholder or oven mitt. Unless someone has a bright idea here -- warmly welcomed -- I can't help thinking this is one majorly bad design.

The piece was fun, but I found the statement that drugs "show us things as they really are" as ludicrous and irresponsible as the once-popular notion that mental illness is the gateway to the authentic self.

Russ Parsons he say: BINGO ! ! Ditto from me.

I'm glad you said that. The trust issue is one I had been thinking about, but wasn't sure how to get at it.

No, I don't at all feel that chefs should feel "so lucky to feed people, anyhow, anyway, anywhere." But isn't there a rather large gray area between that scenario -- in which the chef is but a craven lackey to the imperious diner -- and the scenario you SEEM to be proposing (and forgive me if I've misunderstood you) whereby the diner is, effectively, entirely in the control of the chef, who determines exactly what the diner will eat and exactly how it will be prepared? I can't help thinking that these two opposing scenarios are really about a battle for control: Who controls the diner's meal? With reference to your disappointment at people's ordering salad (used here as shorthand for whatever -- creme brulee? ice cream? -- you might regard as a nearly offensively simplistic item)....I apologize for my habit of creating analogies, but the first thing that came to mind is some fabulously interesting, complex woman, with a great deal to offer...but all the boys are interested in is her large gazongas. And with that analogy in mind, yeah, I can better understand your crabbiness.

But Tan, isn't that true in, hell, just about every area of life? It's a drag to see people ignore good movies in favor of "Bruce Almighty." It's a drag to see people ignore good books in favor of plunking down their dough on yet another crappy James Patterson thriller. It's a (major) drag to see people ignore intelligent, hard-working politicians in favor of electing subliterate cretins (and I name no names). When I am Queen, all people who make these tragic choices will get one chance to correct the errors of their ways -- because I am a merciful-type person. After that, they sleep wit da fishes. But until such time as I ascend the throne, I will just have to live with people choosing to read crap, watch crap, be governed by morons, and order salad in high-end restaurants. Over some of these issues -- the ones that affect me -- I find it worthwhile to get my knickers in a bunch. But getting peeved because they opt to order salad??? Life's too short. And living with permanently bunched knickers is just too damn uncomfortable.

I worked in a small place where the owner refused to serve ice cream to people who wanted to eat only ice cream, even though we kept it on hand for use in other dessert presentations. There were a lot of other things the customers wanted she wouldn't provide, either. Not only did the place close, but she went through 3 restaurants in 6 years before her husband pulled the plug on her business ventures. I've chilled out/grown up a bit since those days but am looking forward to the same thing happening again soon since I plan to start producing ice creams and sorbets again at one of my places. So it's a "You vill eat vat I choose to give you, und you vill LIKE it!" kinda thing? Sounds just a morsel controlling to me.

You know, I've worked in several occupations that might fall under the "art" umbrella (including a couple of brief and seriously undistinguished stints in restaurant kitchens), and something all of them have had in common is a certain degree of animosity between the home team (the actors and crew, the kitchen and wait-staff, the editorial department) and the audience (the...audience or the diners or the readers or what have you). In my experience, "we" have tended to regard "them" as semi-literate morons more regularly to be found scarfing Fluffernutters while watching Bennie Hill reruns. I don't like this attitude, I think it's ungenerous, and I think it produces a less-than-optimum product, whether that product is a meal, a performance, or a magazine issue. But it's prevailed in pretty much all of the places I've worked, and I have often found myself falling in line with it. Have others had the same experience? What do you think this attitude is about?

It seems to me that many -- though not all -- of the respondants to this thread are assuming that "artist" and "pleaser of people who sign the paychecks" are somehow mutually exclusive. Sure, there have been artists throughout history who managed to make a living by working only to please themselves, but there haven't been a lot of them. Shakespeare had patrons. Mozart had patrons. And they wrote in response to specific requests/demands from those patrons. As a writer, I have to please my editors. As an actor, I had to please my directors. And in both careers, I have/had to please my audience, or I don't/wouldn't have a job. If you want to refer only to your own tastes, please only your own muse, that's fine so long as you're content to write/paint/cook/sing only for yourself. But when other people get involved, their tastes must be taken into account, or they aren't going to be involved for very long. Furthermore -- and forgive me -- but the "I am an artist, and I must create my art my way!" argument strikes me as just spectacularly adolescent. I can't help thinking of some 14-year-old pill who insists on expressing himself by wearing a Megadeth tee shirt to Grandma's funeral, and to hell with how uncomfortable it makes anyone else. Making a meal for someone is a social interaction. And all social interactions involve a degree of compromise, whether it's telling boring Aunt Mamie that you're happy to see her, or (graciously) allowing somebody to eat your meatloaf sans mushrooms. If your sense of self is so fragile that you can't bear that kind of compromise, either start a punk band or go live in the woods.

I would agree entirely. Among other things, the primary way an underpaid freelancer becomes an overpaid (laughing hysterically) staff journalist is by turning in good work. And while the definition of "good work" may well vary from person to person and publication to publication, it is almost never expanded to include somebody else's good work. Furthermore, nobody forced this woman to become a freelance food journalist. Journalism tends to be viewed as something of a glamor gig -- though many of us here could probably point out the HUGE fallacies in that view -- and with some exceptions (being a movie star, being a supermodel, being a major league ball player), glamor gigs don't tend to pay fabulously well. If what you want is to make good money, to be paid really well for the hours you put in, then go into plumbing or consign yourself to building spreadsheet models in the bowels of Wall Street. Yes, I know it's a miserable job market, and that journalists don't have a lot of options these days: The Courant writer may not have felt she had the choice of saying to her editor "Look, either boost my word-rate or find yourself a new foodie." But despite my generally leftist sympathies, I don't think a lousy salary is any excuse for lousy work. And it's particularly no excuse for appropriating someone else's work, stealing both the credit and the cash that, by rights, should belong to them. Those who feel sympathy for the Courant writer can take some comfort in the fact that Jayson Blair is reportedly looking at a million-dollar deal. If she continues to follow his example, she may wind up in the chips after all.

Louisa, I am now absolutely ravenous, and it's all your fault! The food sounds incredible -- and I, too, am amazed at the thought of people who could just walk away from duck breasts. That mid-day break sounds nutty -- just enough time to allow all your energy to drain away. Best of luck on the final.

Really interesting, Chengdude. It's silly, but I found your comments about the yogurt of particular interest, because the yogurt I remember eating was very definitely not sweet (I hate sweetened yogurt). It was...well...yogurt. Pretty good yogurt. But this was eight years ago, and I remember being told at the time that the Yogurt Initiative was relatively new. I guess they've added the sugar (and dumbed down the quality) in the meantime.

When I was in China in the mid-90s, I was lucky enough to have lunch with several families in their homes, and also -- a few times -- in the workers' cafeterias at a couple of factories. The workers' lunches were very heavy; I remember huge bowls of doughy steamed pork dumplings and little fish fried and then steeped in some kind of extremely viscous oil. Not delicious, but interesting. What interested me about the family lunches was the amount of frozen food involved; I got a lot of fish sticks and lamb patties coated in something like panko (served, usually, with fresh-steamed greens). And once we had a bucket of KFC . I still don't know whether this was standard-issue home-style lunch, or if it was a case of putting on the dog for the honored guest -- if the frozen, "Western"-style food was considered ritzier than, say, a bowl of homemade soup and some fermented egg. On that trip, I spent about a month in Shanghai, and my favorite breakfast was extremly yu,mmy yogurt made by one of two factories that had recently opened, at the government's behest. It had recently become known that many Chinese -- or maybe just Shanghainese -- were lacking in calcium, and that they could digest yogurt despite the lactose-deficiency, so there were bilboards all over encouraging people to eat yogurt.

I suspect that for me, at least, there is no such thing as the ideal recipe format, if only because I use cookbooks for very different purposes. Sometimes I read cookbooks as food porn, and I want lush, discriptions, stories about the tiny village in Sardinia where the author first experienced the dish, etc. etc. etc., and I'm really not fussy about whether the thing can be frozen. Sometimes I read cookbooks for ideas, and then I like discussions about what dishes and wines this dish might go well with. And finally, sometimes I use cookbooks purely as manuals, primarily for dishes and preparations with which I'm not terribly familiar. In this instanct, you betcha I want very very specific instructions. But the thing is, the stuff for which I need specific instructions might well be different from the stuff for which somebody else might need specific instructions. I almost never bake, and I have cooked pork and fish fairly rarely, so I turn to books like "The Best Recipe" (from Cook's Illustrated) or Rose Levy Bernbaum's "The Cake Bible" when something porky or fishy or cake-y is on the agenda. But I can make risotto with my eyes closed, so if I look in a cookbook, what I'm interested in is ideas about flavorings -- I don't need much help with the technique. In that instance, I'd be much happier with something in the Elizabeth David line, which chats a bit.

This was really interesting, Janet. Thank you very much.