fifi

I guess I am pretty easy going about the whole thing and can switch modes pretty easily. A really good convenience product, like a lemon curd as good or better than I could make myself, I consider a worthy addition to my kitchen because I was such a talented shopper to find it. That doesn't mean that I don't get snarky about things like a project . . . think cassoulet or gumbo. Don't mess with me or my cooking. But I will gladly let someone else mess with the sides and serve the drinks. One thing I really hate to do and I can't figure out why . . . make salad. I always have hated that. I have no clue. Luckily, when my son lived with me, he was willing to be Salad-Man. I will give that job away in a heartbeat. Other than that, the most fun I have in the kitchen is when there are several of us in there together, trading tasks, discussing the progress and learning from each other. For me, that experience is much more fulfilling than saying that I did it all myself.

Having discovered this wonder a few years ago, it is one of my favorite flavors. I am a sucker for any of the anise family of flavors. However, it seems that its most common use is as a part of a spice or seasoning mixture. One of the classics is Chinese Five Spice. My son and I bought some, sniffed and wondered what to do with it. Then, one Sunday morning, we decided to sprinkle some on a fruit cup of mandarin orange sections, pineapple and mango. A family favorite was born. Don't use too much, though. Then I got into trying to duplicate a clay pot pork recipe that I had at a very upscale Chinese restaurant here. Haven't quite done it yet, but the broth depends on star anise as one of the main flavor components. Then, there was this olive oil confit of turkey thighs that came up here. (Sorry, I can't find it to save me.) The seasoning mix added sage to the star anise and fennel flavors. I would have never thought of that. The combo is wonderful. I also like to drop a pretty one in the bottom of my tea mug. Not ony does it taste great but I enjoy looking at it.

Well, it was Bambi, not Lambchop. But that doesn't mean that leg of lamb wouldn't work as well. I kind of dreamed it up. No kidding. I had been in the market with my nephew a week or so prior and had probably seen the pig skin. Then dreamed about it. Or, maybe I saw it somewhere here then dreamed it. Wouldn't surprise me.

I am not participating here . . . yet . . . but I had to comment on the bacon skin. Well, not just comment, I am lusting after it. I will probably have to do bacon just to have the skin. (Just got the book.) A couple of years ago we did a leg of venison, seasoned with herbs and such then completely wrapped in pig skin. I had gotten some pretty big sheets of it at a Latin butcher shop. It went into the oven for a long slow roast. That was probably one of the best leg-o-bambi we have ever done. I could only imagine it with bacon skin.

Here ya go with the crosnes. My sister's country place has a big patch of them that we dig up. It is sort of like a treasure hunt. We call the plant woundwort but it is the same thing. They are great in salads. I don't like to ruin the texture by cooking so we always eat them raw.

Jambalyle, that is a noble example of a turkey chili. My dad did something similar years ago. Ground turkey was just becoming available and he kept trying to find something to do with it that was not just edible but delicious. They had all kinds of peppers in the garden and he took the same approach you did. His was a success, too. BTW . . . You are not late to the party. What is cool about the cook-offs is that they need not ever die.

Thanks! I haven't bought it in a while. I have been trying some of those brands that would have you believe that the tomatoes are grown in Shangrila Valley and fertilized with singing cow poop. I don't like them much. So, because of the jar, it will be back to Classico for my pantry back up. Now here is another question. Catherine mentioned the nonremovable labels. Why provide a product in a wonderfully useful jar but glue on the labels that defy all efforts of a chemist to remove them!

Oh dear. I thought about this a lot as I was doing the Oven Baked Chowder from Sara's book. As I reported here, I was able to do the prep in the 15 minutes as said in the recipe. On reflection, however, I did not enjoy myself with that 15 minute prep. I have known for a long time that I am not a fast and flashy cook. I leave the grilling to other folks. I go out for steak. I excel at the dishes that take some time to develop . . . braises, projects like cassoulet, that sort of thing. What I didn't realize until the chowder exercise, was how much I absolutely hate hurrying at anything in the kitchen. I may dawdle over the diced red pepper as it comes off my knife. I will fiddle with the asparagus spears as though they were flowers to be arranged in a vase. If I had had the time, I would have studied the geometry of the potatoes, celery and onion before they went to the food processor for the chowder. As I prepare a recipe, a question may occur to me and I am off for a bit of research and may not get out of the books for an hour or more. It is probably a good thing that I am mostly cooking for myself. A family would shoot me. So, I guess I am a slow cook. Very slow. And, quite probably, very annoying to anyone around that is hungry.

Ronnie . . . That sausage is the spittin' image of the sausage patties that my Great Aunt Minnie used to cook and then use the pan leavin's to make her gravy to go on her incomparable biscuits. We discussed this in the biscuits and gravy topic. I just recently got the book and will definitely try this one. The biscuits, however, still escape me.

The rice does not just absorb the salt. It absorbs the salty water. It may absorb some of the flavor components of the soup, proteins and carbohydrates, but those will be negligable compared to the salty water. While the rice may absorb some of the flavor components, that will be minor due to the properties of starch in the rice grains. Starch prefers to absorb water. And diluting the salty soup is what you are trying to do. We are back to the axiom that the only way to solve a too salty problem is to dilute it. It seems to me that the rice solution is a way to go. Yes, you may lose some flavor components to the rice, but at least you have saved the soup. And, you can use the rice for something else. edit to add: I could go into the molecular structure of the proteins and complex carbohydrates that are in the flavor components of the soup and why they would not be readily absorbed into the starch grains of the rice. But that would get a bit complicated. There will be some flavor carried over into the rice but it will be mainly from a surface wetting effect rather than an osmotic effect into the starch "globules," for lack of a better term.

OK . . . Now I have had my eGulley laugh of the day. *painfully rises from the floor* I have to wonder what the demographics of the focus group was for this one.

Thanks, Ray. I am interested in what you find about our "Red Gum." If it is like what we call "Sweet Gum" in the south, I am sure it wouldn't be good. And, byron, what you say about bark is pretty much true. I use the "Minion Method" for firing my Weber Smokey Mountain and intersperse wood chunks in the charcoal. If there is a lot of bark, I knock it off. But I am not meticulous about it. I smoke at 225F at the grate for the most part. Also, keeping the top vent all the way open keeps things moving and the condensation of nasties to a minimum.

Why am I thinking that smoking with most Eucalyptus might give the meat overtones of a cough drop. Perhaps this is one of those local things that has a long tradition and works well. For instance, I wonder who first thought to use that Texas nuisance tree, mesquite, to smoke with. They use a relative in Hawaii, kiawe, for the same purpose.

It works. I carefully measured 1 quart (4 cups) of water into a heavy sauce pan. I added 1 tablespoon of kosher salt. (My scale isn't accurate enough to get a weight.) The saltiness was about what my last batch of gumbo was, a level that I could remember the taste. . . almost too salty to eat comfortably. (It was made with smoked turkey carcasses that had been liberally seasoned so I had little control. It was ok over unsalted white rice if you like salty food, which I do.) I measured 1/2 cup of regular long grain white rice into cheese cloth and tied it up, leaving plenty of room for the rice to expand. I simmered for 1 hour with the lid on. I removed the rice "bag" with tongs and allowed it to drain thoroughly. The rice was put in a colander to deal with later. Pouring the water from the sauce pan back into the measuring cup, I had to add 2 cups of water to bring the liquid back to where it started. That is half the liquid that the rice absorbed and carried away with maybe some little bit lost to steam. The final result was that the restored 1 quart of liquid has a salt level that is now pleasant and about what I aim for in soups and such. Boy, do I wish I had a hydrometer. But, the starch from the rice might have messed up the readings. The rice is a bit mushy and a little salty but will make some fine "fritters" . . . or something like that.

I am trying it. Stay tuned.

I am not sure that test was a good model of what goes on with a more complex solution such as a soup. The way this should work is that the rice selectively absorbs the liquid, mostly the salty water, leaving a large portion of the proteins, carbohydrates and whole bits behind. That is what the starch in the rice will do. Rice is just a convenient high surface to volume ratio of "starch packages" to do this. But here is the key . . . The rice is removed taking the salty water with it. Then, the original soup pot has water added back to it to dilute the salty liquid that remains, thus reducing the saltiness of the soup. If you don't add that water back to the original volume, you haven't changed anything, concentration-wise. In fact, if you reduced the volume by simmering uncovered you are concentrating the salt solution. I didn't see in the trial where water was added back to the original volume before tasting. At least, that is what I think is happening. I haven't tried it yet.

I started traveling alone on business in the late 70s so you can bet I have seen a lot of bad service. A woman dining alone back then was not common at all so I developed a strategy. When the waiter first appeared at my table I just flatly stated in a friendly tone that I realized I was a single person table but they could be assured that I tipped very well when well served. That usually did the trick. I did have two funny things happen. And these are the only two times I remember not leaving a tip. Late 70s, I was in New Orleans but staying on the West Bank because the hotel had a helipad for the helicopter to pick me up in the morning. I went to what was the best steak house over there at the time. When I appeared at the station to be seated, I was informed that they did not seat single ladies. While I was a lot better looking back then, I certainly didn't look like what they must have assumed any "single lady" was there for. I just wanted a steak. I was so stunned I just walked out speechless. (And it takes a lot to make me speechless.) Obviously there was nothing to tip. Fast forward to the early 80s. I took my first trip to Hawaii alone. (I had discovered that traveling alone has its own set of charms.) I was in the dining room of one of the big resorts on the south of Kauai. I go into the dining room and this somewhat sourpuss woman seats me at a not so good table but it was ok because there was a ledge there to store my book. Then this young thing comes up behind her. She had on a button that said . . . Hello, my name is xxxx and I am new here. Uh Oh! There was a big table of about 12 nearby. For the rest of the evening, my service sucked. The young thing was obviously distressed because she was continually being directed to the big table by the sourpuss. She was almost in tears by the time she came to bring my check. I reassured her that I understood her situation and that I would take care of "the b****." "Just act all panicked and tell her that the lone lady is actually an employee of the resort company and is here as part of a survey assessing how they treat their guests." I slipped her a $10 bill. (That was a lot back then.) As I settled up at the register with "the b****" I made a point of not adding a tip and writing down her name in my little notebook. I said in a business like tone, "We will deal with this later." So I guess this is a case of not officially leaving a tip. The next morning at breakfast, I was whisked to a beach side table and my coffee cup never went empty. I still chuckle at this one.

Well, there ya go. Another testament for getting all we can out of our older folks before it is lost. You have just passed this down to a new generation. It may have been lost if you hadn't. I really mean it when I say I am surprised that I haven't heard of this. I have a fairly extensive collection of "food science" books, all of the familiar suspects and some more technical, and I have searched for a solution to this very problem. Hmmmm . . . I think I smell a new topic.

Getting curious about this, I went a-googling. I found this site on Australian trees that lists several Eucalyptus sp. that have the common name Red Gum. There is one Angophora costata that also has the common name Red Gum. You can copy the various species into google and get pictures. I have to guess that what you are calling Red Gum isn't the tree Ray was referring to.

Now that is a workable idea! I have never seen that one before.

Yep. It is all a myth. All you can do is dilute. I guess, if you were so inclined, you could rig up some sort of reverse osmosis membrane gadget and do it that way. Sort of like the salt water desalinization plants. That would be awfully expensive, though. I do find that if acid works with the dish, adding a bit of lemon juice or vinegar does make it taste, or seem to taste less salty. Same thing for sugar.

In my opinion, the plastic jug. The processes for making polyethylene, polypropylene and even PET are overall much cleaner than for paper of any kind. And that milk jug can go in the recycle bin. Waxed paper doesn't recycle well. The recycler that used to pick up at my house wouldn't accept anything but newspaper.

Thanks, Adam. I was wondering how anyone got a cross between two such wildly different genera as asparagus and brocolli. Aspiration is just a really stupid name. Aspiration, in the traditional meaning, can kill you.

Sara . . . I want to add my thanks for one of the most delightful conversations . . . ever. I was a fan of yours since I first got cable TV in the mid 90s. I remain a fan today but even more of one now. Your warmth and lively personality really came through in your responses. I hope you had as good a time as I did. And I hope that you had a good enough time to join us in the future. Besides, we need to get an answer to that damned gumbo question. To the other members . . . Feel free to post your thank yous to this topic whether or not Sara has responded. Thank you for your enthusiastic participation.

Well, the cross hatch pattern thing and how we got there is kinda complicated. When I first started the corning process, I incised the skin in a chrysanthemum petal or fish scale pattern, whatever. The idea was to have that come out during the cooking. Then, I actually read the recipe and found that the main cooking was done in a covered baker. Because of that, the original cutting of the skin made no difference. (Though I do think it helped with salt absorption during the corning.) So, when we prepped it for browning, we took the skin off and put it in the bottom of the baking pan to crisp. Looking at the layer of fat, we decided to score it to "make it purty." Kosher salt is what I used.