slkinsey
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Posts posted by slkinsey
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We do two things with leftover turkey:
1. Recreate the Thanksgiving-dinner entree plate: reheated turkey, stuffing and gravy, plus cranberry sauce.
2. Make turkey sandwiches.
These are my main TG leftovers. I also make turkey a la reine in crêpes with the braised leg meat.
We don't make turkey stock from the carcass, in part because the carcass doesn't make particularly good stock (compared to cheap, readily available chicken parts) and in part because we don't typically take possession of the carcass after dinner at my mother's place.Since I debone the whole turkey and cook the components separately, I make stock with the raw bones. Most of this goes into sauce making for the big dinner and moistening the dressing, but there's occasionally some left over. In that case, I like to just have it as a broth with rice.
I agree that carcass bones don't make an appealing broth.
One year we had a good experience making turkey hash. I can't say it was as good as hash made from, say, leftover beef brisket, but it was a tasty, productive, un-forced use of leftover turkey meat.Turkey hash is good, but I agree that it's not as good as corned beef or brisket. It's also a good way to use up other Thanksgiving leftovers (buttered peas, creamed onions, roasted carrots, etc.).
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However, like many entries, [the entry on fat is] missing a crucial (one might say elemental) point: the importance of fat in producing the Maillard reaction when browning food on the stove. That's a lost opportunity, and particularly essential for those starting to cook who are prone to "save calories" by using insufficient amounts of fat in a thin, non-stick pan and likely to scorch their proteins instead of brown them.
I'm not sure how you mean this. Fat, of course, is not a required component of the Maillard reaction. On the other hand, fat is very useful in providing good thermal conduction from the pan to the protein, and may also facilitate Maillard reactions by, in effect, serving as a medium through though which the various components necessary for the Maillard reaction are introduced to one another (e.g., one often finds that the second piece of meat browned in the pan browns more rapidly than the first -- this is because the pan contains Maillard precursors from the previous piece).
I suppose your post reinforces somewhat the point that you and Janet are making: that books, or posts, that presuppose certain knowledge may also be perceived to contain certain "holes" (cookbooks from 150 years ago clearly presupposed a lot more basic cooking knowledge than they do today, with instructions such as "prepare in the usual way," etc.). All of which is to say the section of text I quote above demonstrates that it's harder to write something "without holes" than one might suppose, considering that most readers would take the above to mean that fat is a necessary chemical component of the Maillard reaction.
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Last night I had:
2 oz : Rittenhouse Bonded
1 oz : Carpano Antica Formula
1 dash each : Fee's Barrel Aged, Regan's Orange, Absinthe
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My guess is that something like it (cooked cheese-stuffed jalapenos) has been around for some time and probably has no single inventor. I mean, it's not rocket science.
Their ubiquity (and the name "poppers," which is a registered trademark) probably came about when Heinz started to distribute them in frozen "ready for the fryer" form. I note that jalapeno poppers became ubiquitous right around the same time as deep fried breaded mozzarella sticks and deep fried breaded mushrooms (both also sold by Heinz under the "poppers" trademark).
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Lets say that the owner didn't say anything to him, figuring that he was in the corner, the light wasn't bothering anyone else, and someone else walks in and sits down at the bar and pulls out their laptop in the middle of the room. This obviously throws off the entire aestheric and vibe that the owner is going for. It's now going to be a lot harder to deal with this situation, given that Chris has been there for 20 minutes, has had a drink, and has been working on his laptop not disturbing anyone.
This is a very good point, and it's the sort of thing that is often difficult to make properly understood to that one guy opening his laptop at a table in a back corner.
To a certain extent, I can agree with Chris that his one laptop in the corner with the screen turned down low wasn't likely to bother too many people. But, at the same time, presumably we all agree that a restaurant bar with several open laptops during the cocktail hour isn't the sort of vibe that is likely to broadcast "cocktail spot," and surely we all agree that it's reasonable for the owner to take steps to protect the image he is working hard to project for his restaurant bar. Perhaps the owner might have something to say to a guy who came in wearing a tank top and running shorts (just because there is no posted "dress code" doesn't mean that owners can't have certain expectations as to minimal dress code).
For me personally, if I were the owner of a prospective cocktail spot or wine bar attached to a restaurant, my thoughts on things like laptops would have a bit to do with the time of day. I would be much more tolerant of a guy tapping away on a laptop at 3:30 in the afternoon with a coffee, beer or glass of wine than I'd be of the same guy at 8:30 with a Negroni.
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Anyone who has an interest in the Manhattan (or indeed, more than a passing interest in cocktails at all) should proceed with great alacrity to purchase a copy of Dave Wondrich's newly published Imbibe!: From Absinthe Cocktail to Whiskey Smash, a Salute in Stories and Drinks to "Professor" Jerry Thomas, Pioneer of the American Bar. There is a very interesting section therein on the mixological trends that made the Manhattan possible, an outline of the various theories as to it's creator, and several recipes reflecting different takes on the drink.
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Well, certain ingredients are going to be harder or easier to find depending on where you live. I bet you have a much easier time finding bones for moose stock than we do in NYC.
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Pardon me for butting in, but isn't seared scallops a worldwide trend that is reflected in Montreal?
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Potatoes need to be cooked directly before mashing. Again, they don't take long to cook if cut up.
Not if you do the retrogradation trick (see here for the process for pureed potatoes). You could do the double-cooking process, store the cooled potatoes, reheat them to temperature, then puree. This would take longer at service time. Actually, even if I were going to puree the mashed potatoes ahead of time, I'd recommend the retrogradation trick.
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You should do okay with cooked-ahead pasta for a baked dish if you remember to undercook the pasta significantly (which you should be doing anyway)
The potatoes for mashed potatoes should be okay cooked ahead of time if you take the trouble to do Jack's retrogradation trick.
It's fine to pre-cut your vegetables for roasting although, as others have said, I wouldn't do it with potatoes or any vegetable that browns.
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What recipe is it that you have from 1914? The earliest recipe of which Dave Wondrich is aware (which means, for all intents and purposes, of which all of us are aware) is from Hugio Ensslin's Recipes for Mixing Drinks in 1916. I've never seen an Aviation recipe calling for applejack and absinthe.
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I took note of the Jimmie Roosevelt some time back and wanted to try it but was somewhat wary of it's enormous size and profligate use of expensive (and high-proof!) ingredients. This adaptation looks far more manageable. Would you say the Chartreuse is more or less than 1/4 oz? Seems like that much would be enough, but one can never tell, at least not before trying it.
Here's Doc's original text:
CHAMPAGNE COCKTAIL No. II, which with Modestly Downcast Lash We Admit Is an Origination of Our Own, & Which We Christened the "Jimmie Roosevelt"Last spring we had the pleasure of turning our house into an oasis, between planes, for Colonel Jimmie Roosevelt and Grant Mason of the Civil Aeronautics Commission. . . [etc.]
Fill a big 16 ounce thin crystal goblet with finely cracked ice. In the diametrical center of this frosty mass went a lump of sugar well saturated with Angostura, then 2 jiggers of good French cognac, then fill the glass with chilled champagne, finally floating on very carefully 2 tbsp of genuine green Chartreuse.
If you figure the drink is being cut into half, that would mean an 8 ounce glass, 2 ounces of cognac and a half-ounce of Chartreuse. If you further reduce the drink to, say, a 6 ounce glass, you'd have 1.5 ounces of cognac and 1/3 ounce of Chartreuse. In practice, if I am recalling correctly, the bartenders I know simply drizzled over a few passes of the Chartreuse bottle.
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More than you ever wanted to know about roasting pans here: http://forums.egullet.org/index.php?showtopic=82857
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The classic "changing cocktail" to me is the Jimmy Roosevelt. In the original, it's a gigantic drink, so I usually make it as adapted by Pegu Club: A large coupe is lightly coated with demerara syrup and a bitters-soaked sugarcube placed in the bottom. Then the glass is filled with cracked or crushed ice, then comes some cognac into the glass, then the glass is filled with champagne and Green Chartreuse drizzled on top. The drink is not deliberately layered, but there is also no deliberate mixing. Here's how I described it back in 2005:
Besides offering her own creations, Audrey's menus often feature a few contemporary cocktails created by colleagues and forgotten classics worth resurrecting. To that end, the menu features Paul Harrington's Jasmine, Dale DeGroff's Whiskey Smash and from Charles "Doc" Baker's The Gentleman's Companion (one of the all time great cocktail books), the Jimmie Roosevelt. This last one deserves a little extra description, for it is a most interesting libation and one that is unlikely to be familiar. In the Pegu Club's version, a glass is rinsed with demerara simple syrup, then in goes some Cognac and an Angostura-soaked sugar cube; on top of that goes cracked ice, then a top of champagne and the whole thing drizzled with Green Chartreuse. Since the drink isn't mixed per se, the ingredients combine in the glass according to their own whimsy (and specific gravities, no doubt), which leads to a drink that evolves greatly, making many twists and turns on the way to the bottom of the glass. The first few sips are light, dry and effervescent; then the herbal exoticism of the Chartreuse begins to make its presence felt, lurking around the bits of cracked ice; towards the bottom of the glass the sweetness from the demerara syrup rinse and the Angostura's cinnamon come to the fore. Meanwhile the Cognac is there throughout to tie the whole thing together. It's like three or four drinks in one -- a must have. -
In my experience there are wide differences in dash amounts between modern Angostura, Peychaud's, Fee and other brands of bitter -- and even wide differences in the same bottle depending on how full it is. As the owner of a few antique dasher bottles, I'd say that they dash within the expected range.
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I gotta go with Steven on this one -- especially at 3 AM, it's not unheard of to wait 15 or 20 minutes for a train, and "never more than 5 minutes" is not reflective of my experience. That said, I also think Steven is stretching reality in the other direction by suggesting that 15-20 minutes is the averate non-rush-hour experience. What reflects my reality as someone who travels by subway 99% of the time is: "most often not more than around 5 minutes but occasionally 15-20 minutes."
It's not unheard of to wait 15-20 minutes for a subway at any time of the day, if there's been some kind of delay, but of course, the same kinds of delays happen to trains and buses out of the City to NJ.
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Steven: I'm not saying that I wouldn't use iodized salt if I had a young child just to be safe. Children may be at particular risk because they often pass through a stage in which they consume an extremely restrictive diet. There are lots of things we do with respect to children that represent huge overkill just to be on the safe side. But, considering some of the things you've written about accepted wisdom, official recommendations and doctors' instructions concerning consumption of fish and raw fish, I'd think you would take some of this with... well, a grain of salt.
Given the other various sources of iodine in the American diet, it's not clear to me that the typical American would suffer from IDD if iodized table salt were no longer the norm.The UNICEF thing makes a lot more sense. The typical child living in, say, Zambia, is probably quite a bit at risk for IDD (not to mention a whole raft of other nutritional deficiency disorders).
ETA: I'm not advocating that we discontinue iodization of salt -- especially salt used in processed foods, etc. In general, I am in favor of iodization (and fluoridization of drinking water, etc).
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...the relationship between mirepoix and sofrito (which, by the way, is hardly the condiment that you've suggested), or even trinity for that matter, is of no importance.
I'm not quite sure I understand your point here. Mirepoix is certainly the most canonical and important of any of these traditions. And an understanding of the role played by mirepoix should certainly extend to other traditions, such as Spanish, Italian, Creole, etc. I am especially mystified by your example of sofrito, which you speak of as though it were a codified base. It isn't. "Sofrito" is different depending on whether one is Spanish, Cuban, Puerto Rican, etc. The Italian soffritto is simply a word for softened vegetables used as the base of a dish, usually including onions but sometimes including one or more of carrots, celery, garlic, mushrooms, and dozens of other vegetables. Perhaps he should have said that similar principles are at work in X, Y, and Z other traditions?
You correctly point out that iodine deficiency is no longer an issue in this country. Of course, that's because of iodized salt, so tossing it over your shoulder, so to speak, could lead right back to the problem it solved.)Um... no. Iodized salt did not solve the problem of iodine deficiency in the United States. This is because there was never really a widespread problem with iodine deficiency in the United States to begin with. People experience iodine deficiency-related health problems when they live in areas of the world where they subsist on foods grown in iodine-poor soils and the diet is low in marine products. This describes approximately no one living in the United States today. Historically, iodine deficiency-related health problems were confined mostly to the "goiter belt" around the Great Lakes and perhaps one or two other localized areas. This was, however, back in the days before World War I, when people in these areas were eating produce grown in relatively local, iodine-poor soils for the most part, and had zero access to salt-water fish. In today's world where we all have access to fortified cereals, there is widespread distribution of marine foods, food production is concentrated in California and people all across the country eat foods produced all over the globe... it's unclear that iodized salt is necessary for the prevention of iodine deficiency-related health problems. Perhaps I'd use iodized salt if I lived in Michegan, but there's little reason for most of the rest of us to use it (and I don't). ETA: It's also worth of note that the US RDA for iodine (150 micrograms per day) is triple the amount deemed sufficient to prevent prevent hypothyroid, cretinism and endemic goiter.
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What makes veal stock so special is its neutrality. It adds body and enhances flavor without adding its own.
If the point of veal stock is "neutrality," then why, in your recipe in Elements, do you call for browning the bones and meat and adding tomato paste and mirepoix? It seems to me that if you want something that adds a silky texture and no discernible flavor of its own, you'd do better to make a white veal stock -- no browning, no aromatics, no tomato paste. I mean, I'm all for brown stocks, but surely a brown veal stock will be nearly as robust as a beef stock -- certainly more so than chicken.
Because you want more than just a silky texture.
What makes veal stock special is that it has a combination of things that other stocks do not have on their own. It has a less distinctive flavor than beef stock, but carries plentiful flavor compounds (here I have to disagree with Fat Guy... beef stock has a much more distinctive flavor). It also has plentiful umami (thus the brown stock with it's mailliardization instead of a white stock) than a chicken stock, which is typically white. And it has far more gelatin than chicken stock. It's a strong all 'rounder.
Steven's point is well made that the highest-end restaurants nowadays are more likely to simply have brown and white versions of beef stocks, rabbit stocks, pork stocks, and so on (I would argue that there's no such thing as shellfish "stock" but rather shellfish "broth" -- you're not getting gelatin and a silky texture out of a shellfish broth). However, for anyone other than the most fanatical home cook, this model is unsupportable. If one were able to keep around only one reduced stock for culinary purposes, it would certainly be veal stock.
But I'm still curious about your example. It seems to me (from your description) that of all the elements in that sauce -- mushrooms, shallots, wine, butter, salt and pepper -- the veal stock is the least essential. That is, if the veal stock were missing (replaced with water), I'm sure the sauce wouldn't be as good.I think you've touched on what makes MR so rapturous about veal stock. Rather than "least essential", I would substitute "most ineffable".
I think that some experiences might be ineffable; I'm not sure that veal stock is one of them. It may not be a particularly romantic notion, but I'm quite sure that whatever veal stock does for a sauce can be described, and at least in part explained.
In this case, I'd say that the veal stock adds a silky texture due to the gelatin, further amplifies the other present flavors due to the umami contributed, adds its own background flavors which contribute to the overall richness of the sauce -- and does all these things without necessarily screaming "veal!" Indeed, it has been my experience that most people would never guess that a sauce thus enrichened actually contains veal stock (that is edsel's "ineffability").
I can't speak for Mr. Ruhlman, but I get the impression that he's enamored of the way that veal stock can elevate something ordinary into something more. I heard him speak at a kitchen demo (posted in the Heartland forum), and he did indeed point out that you can use water to deglaze the fond in a pan to make a very serviceable jus.Of course, in his example, the wine is what he says to use to deglaze, not the stock. Veal stock goes in later. And I would bet that if you substituted water and a pinch of MSG, you'd get a very similar "something more."
No, you sure wouldn't. I suppose if you added an envelope of rehydrated gelatin, a shot of light soy sauce and pinch of MSG you might get some of the same effects -- but you wouldn't get anything near "very similar." That's like saying, "wine is primarily used because of the acidity it contributes. And I would bet that if you substituted water and pinch of tartaric acid, you'd get something very similar." I think we can all agree that you wouldn't.
(edited to fix bizarre formatting error)
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You really don't want to bring polytetrafluoroethylene (aka PTFE, aka "Teflon") above 500F. Because it will cause the PTFE to break down, which isn't good for the long-term survival of the nonstick coating. The "bad news into the air" referenced by phatj is what's known as "ultrafine particles," and these can clog the breathing apparatus of birds, killing them. Not particularly a concern with respect to the lungs of humans or other mammals in the amounts generated by a roasting pan in a hot oven or a frypan on the stove. Similarly, humans don't have anything to fear from ingesting any potential particles of PTFE that may find their way into food due to a degraded PTFE coating. PTFE has excellent biocompabitility with humans, and indeed is used in things like artificial heart valves and tendon repair.
The reason I wouldn't recommend a PTFE-coated roasting pan is that eventually the coating will start to degrade and the roasting pan will have to be replaced. Why spend money on a roasting pan that won't last the rest of your life? If cleanup is a serious worry, there are measures that can be taken. Some people line the roasting pan with tinfoil, although I think this practice limits the usefulness of the pan. Personally, I think it makes sense to get a heavy stainless steel roasting pan (some of which are made with a heavy aluminum base, and others with an inner core of aluminum -- not necessary but perhaps worth it if you can get a good price). When the pan has a stainless steel exterior, you can simply spray oven cleaner on the outside of the pan and leave it in the kitchen sink overnight. Any normal amount of cooked-on gunk will come right off the next morning. (Don't try this with anodized aluminum -- the oven cleaner will ruin the anodized layer.)
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The makers of Tanqueray, in all its incarnations, should be jailed.
Ok, so impeccably clean distillation, a refusal to abandon the full, traditional proof and a fearless embrace of the juniper berry are now indictable offenses? I'll make a note.
Yea, I'm with Dave in giving this one a big "huh?" Tanqueray is, in my opinion, the Gold Standard for London dry gin.
I am 100% in agreement with busboy that a good way to learn about gin is to avail yourself of a bartender or friend with a wide selection and a good knowledge of gin mixology. Unfortunately, while it's often possible to find a friend with a good knowledge of gin mixology and it's often possible to find a bartender with a wide selection of gin, it is often not possible to find a bartender with a good knowledge of gin mixology or a friend with a wide selection of gin. I mean... you can find those things easily if you live in New York City and have cocktail geeks for friends -- but I'm lucky in that regard.
This brings me to my second disagreement with busboy: I think the Martini is a terrible cocktail with which to introduce one's self to gin. If someone is already a little shy about liking gin, the most gin-forward cocktail in the repertoire isn't a very gentle introduction. It's like taking someone who isn't sure whether they like opera to see Parsifal (all 5 Wagnerian hours of it). Rather, there are plenty of drinks that include gin as an ingredient, and in which gin is a discernible ingredient but one that plays with other flavors. I could see starting with something like a Juniperotivo, then later a Corpse Reviver #2, then later a Monkey Gland, then a Martinez... and then a Martini (not on the same night, mind you!).
Anyway, if juniper-forward gins are scary, I'd suggest Plymouth gin instead of London dry gin. It has a softer overall profile, and mixes beautifully.
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It's one thing to talk about the low opportunity cost of public transportation when you travel by car. It's another thing entirely when you have to avail yourself of that public transportation yourself. Suddenly the opportunity cost for the same trip gets a lot higher. Steven: if you pledged to travel exclusively by public transportation for a month, and to stay in your apartment working until no earlier than 6:00 every weeknight (i.e., making special trips only on weekday evenings and weekends) you might find that the opportunity cost is a good bit higher than you suppose it to be.
WRT Fort Lee... As someone who has lived on the A line for 17 years, I would also remark that the A line shoots up to the GWBBS with impressive alacrity only for someone who is traveling from below 59th Street -- and then it's only impressive because it's such a long distance and the train runs express for most of that time. For those of us above 59th Street, it's the B or C train up to 125th and then a transfer to the A. And the trip averages 30 minutes once you figure in the transfers. I gotta tell you... Tommy's less-than-ringing endorsement of the Fort Lee experience isn't exactly making me want to jump on the IND and grab a bus over the bridge.
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Need I add that Ridgewood is easily accessible by NJ Transit train, & A Mano is 2 blocks from the station? Again, all it takes is the desire, the time & the equivalent expense of NYC cab fare.
I've actually had a few things that took me to Ridgewood on the train. To be more clear, it's around 14 bucks round trip per person, the trip averages between 50 minutes to almost an hour (that's in addition to getting to Penn Station by subway or cab and arriving early enough to buy your ticket and get on the train), and there are only two return trains per hour (roughly on the hour and 20 minutes after the hour) on weekday evenings and around one per hour on the weekends.
That's a pretty serious time and expense investment. Figure a party of four is going to expend a minimum of 3.5 hours to the trip and 56 bucks on the train. I'd rate it quicker to get to Franny's in Park Slope, and quite a bit easier to get to Una Pizza Napoletana in Manhattan or Fornino in Williamsburg -- not to mention that there is no transportation cost to a NYer with an unlimited MetroCard. Would you say that the payoff for A Mano is big enough to warrant that kind of time and travel for a special trip?
Forgetting to serve one thing
in Food Traditions & Culture
Posted
I've had this problem so many times that, like Mitch, I have taken to writing up a menu and also a process list so I know when to get dish X heating up on the stove while I serve dish Y.
I actually do worse about this sort of thing in more in formal dinners. I remember one time when the Fat Guy family was over for dinner, and I proceeded to burn through about two and a half baguettes, which I kept on putting under the broiler to toast and then would promptly forget about until alerted by the billowing clouds of smoke issuing forth from my oven.