Margaret Pilgrim

Darienne, we could have been twins separated at birth. Except, my mother stuffed steak down me as diet food. On the positive side, I have little taste for steak today which is probably good for my health.

A favorite toddler food in our house was "marble meatballs" which = 1/2" ground round balls in Cambell's tomato soup. Decent if not perfect nutrition, and said toddler is an accomplished eater and home cook.

Stunning pics.

WORD!

Agreed. Rule #1: smell it. Rancid fats have a noticeably off scent.

Was usual in Paris before so many small shops morphed into international brands. .

Every year I make half pints of Bing cherry compote to serve with cheese. Ether water bath or freeze. Just pit and cook up with sugar, stopping short of jam so that the cherries remain whole and toothsome. This season, like next week, I will try BD's fresh cheer/balsamic treatment. Am worrying the choice of cheese, vacillating among the recommended burrata, home made ricotta or some other soft fresh cheese. Wondering how easily burrata would serve as a cheese plate.

Yes, re building relationships with butchers When I want to make a "big fish soup", my fish guy gives me a whole halibut frame. There's enough large chunks of meat on them for at least one meal for two. Same with suet from the butcher. You can also call ahead and know that they will pick good pieces for a sight unseen order.

I'm spoiled. I grew up mid-Century in a small town where every sizable "grocery store" had a good butcher counter. Now in SF, most good grocers have a butcher counter where they break down carcasses, and there are at least a dozen excellent stand alone butcher shops. Beautiful product, heritage pork and poultry, both mid-West corn-fed and local grass-fed beef. A handful carry superb veal. Top/chef quality with corresponding prices. . Plus we have numerous Asian and Latino butchers who also offer mainstream quality at affordable prices.

I wrote this line. You stole it. You owe me. But, don't worry. One day, you'll be behind me in line.

Britain is indeed a producer of world class beef and lamb, as well as superb fish and shellfish. And for those who can afford it these are prepared with elegance and grace. I wonder if Britain's reputation for unremarkable food stems from what was prepared by or served to ordinary people in the last centuries. We spent considerable time in London back in the '80s. We had an apartment and shopped excellent meats and produce, as well as re-heatable made-foods. Meals out were often at a lovely French bistro in South Ken. We ate well. One travel sadness is that we never got to The Sportsman, a goal unmet.

Clement Street, San Francisco's second Chinatown, is several blocks from our house. There are at least three "whole fish on ice" markets that we patronize. Brilliant red gills, clear as glass eyes. Excellent product for the most part. They gut, clean and scale the fish for you. Will probably filet should you ask. Shellfish in aerated tanks. Language translation can be the only problem if you don't know your fish. So take a leap and open a new window!

Very interesting. We had a loquat tree in the backyard of our first (San Francisco) house. And, no, we never used the fruit except as a rare novelty bite.

And the difference between French and Cajin andouille.

My mantra is there is no bad food, only bad cooks.

Mix with cubed cooked beets and Italian dressing. Tart, unctuous, PINK.

Husband loves this breakfast.

Pied et Paquet Funny, since I readily eat tripe and feet in other preparations. My first experience with this classic was at a Michelin restaurant. It was strong and rangy. I got down my portion, and blanched when the server aooeared wutg the casserole for second helpings. "Merci, non." Since it was such a famous dish, and to husband's consternation, I ordered it again several nights later from a lesser kitchen. This was much more palatable but still difficult. I finally found a delicious version in town. I now called the quest over.

But isn't it delicious to prove those who prejudge us wrong? Husband and I were just talking about the extent to which we've been able to slither into unfamiliar cultural situations and come out unscathed and unscathing.

I've never come across something I couldn't eat. Only one that was offensive. But it was such a classic that I ordered it a half dozen times again to see if I could "get it". I eventually made peace with it.

Bingo.

I have occasionally posted a sign over the mirror, "You ate beets" Prevents panic.

I was at check out at our country store when some locals ahead of me started a conversation about beets. "Taste like dirt!" was the repeated response. The checker, a possibly 20 year old black woman interjected, "That's not dirt, it's terroir." I grinned like a jack-o-lantern, thinking to myself there's hope for us yet!

I had my first delivery disappointment this weekend. The first order I had placed with this boutique market had been "shopped" by store personnel and everything was pristine. This second one was shopped by a shopper/driver from the delivery service. I ordered three bunches of organic carrots at 4.99 a bunch. Two were acceptable, the third had two split carrots and a broken one, a bunch I would have turned down in the store. I also ordered a head of Romanesco which arrived with quite a few blackened tips, again one I'd have rejected in person. I delayed cooking it until last night when I was going to use it in pasta. The interior was badly deteriorated. Annoying at $5 a head. On the shopper/driver's feedback, I checked "needs better quality control". The shopper has the option of texting you quality information and asking if you'd prefer a substitute.