slkinsey

Sounds like finger limes. Rather than having the standard citrus interior, they are filled with tiny individual cells that can look a bit like caviar.

Interesting. I wonder what the chemistry of that is? Could be interesting for a separate topic of discussion.

Busnel VSOP Caovados is right around that range, and a number of bars I know use it for mixing. How many years of aging does it have? 30? How would you compare the apple-specific character to, say, 6 year oldf Calvados? I'm also curious as to whether you think you would be able to easily identify that Calvados among a blind sampling of several 30 year old Cognacs and Armagnacs.

The squash idea is interesting (even though I abhor squash). I wonder if a good technique to get flavors out of something like squash might be the gelatin method.

Host Note: topic split from AppleJack topic. IMO they become less and less interesting with age. Several years of age to mellow out the rough edges and add a little color, etc. is good. But beyond a certain point, the apple brandy tastes less and less of apples and more and more of "generic aged spirit." A 15 year old apple brandy doesn't really taste of apples at all, and might as well be a grape brandy.

How wonderful to hear that you have such a great cocktail spot in Cleveland! I'm out that way every so often, and for sure will drop in on the VTR the next time I'm there. As for the Aviation cocktail (eG thread here), I wouldn't say it's anywhere near close to extinction. In fact, I think it's probably more popular today among cocktailians than it was 90 years ago. It first appeared in Ensslin's "Recipes for Mixed Drinks" in 1916, at which time it included gin, lemon juice, maraschino liqueur and crème de violette (imparting a sky-blue color and thus explaining the name). It later appeared in The Savoy Cocktail Book without the crème de violette, and that has become the accepted standard recipe.

Dianabanana, I don't think the studies were evaluating the products' effectiveness at getting rid of waxy coatings. I agree that something more than water is needed to get rid of the coating. Although, of course, one can just buy uncoated produce -- but depending on time of year and location, that can be difficult.

I agree with Steven that it seems like something comes off of, e.g., apple and citrus skins if you use some kind of surfactant. I haven't tried the vinegar trick, though, and I also find that regular old Dawn liquid works just fine without any appreciable residue or off-flavor remaining. I generally feel this is true for produce that is coated. As for other things... I've just never felt that things like peaches, raspberries and broccoli would benefit from any more cleaning than I can do with regular old water.

Okay. But it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that the Veggie Wash is more expensive, or that the organic dish soap is considerably more concentrated. Even if they are the exact same concentration -- which surely you must concede is not the case -- the organic dish soap sells for 19 cents an ounce whereas Veggie Wash sells for 25 cents an ounce.

"A thousand times" was hyperbole, of course, but let's do the math: At around a quarter-teaspoon in five gallons of water. That's the approximate concentration I've used of Dawn dishwashing liquid in my sink, and we can probably use less than that. Clearly one uses very small amounts of detergent in doing this kind of thing. The organic dishwashing liquid to which I linked upthread costs six bucks for a quart, and as far as I can tell contains essentially the exact same ingredients as Veggie Wash in more concentrated form. A quart contains 192 teaspoons. That would make 768 kitchen sinks full (3840 gallons) of vegetable washing water. Environne Fruit & Vegetable wash costs around six bucks for a pint, and you're not going to be doling that stuff out at a quarter ounce per five gallons. Veggie Wash is around four bucks for a pint-sized spray bottle. Let's say you use two squirts of this stuff (around a half-teaspoon) per gallon of water. One bottle is going to get you 32 gallons of vegetable wash, which means that the other stuff will give you 120 times more vegetable washing water. Even if you use a quarter teaspoon of Veggie Wash per gallon of water, the organic detergent will give you five times more gallons of vegetable washing water. There's certainly some question in my mind as to whether there is any benefit to be gained from having the produce that "clean." I say "clean" in quotations because it seems clear to me that, in some instances, we're trading residues of dirt and minute traces of pesticides for residues of the vegetable washing surfactant. If harmful bacteria counts are high enough to make me sick, I don't see how these produce washes are going to reduce those counts enough to make a difference. After all, it's not like everyone would have been just fine if only the workers at Taco Bell had dumped their scallions into sinksfull of water with Veggie Wash. And, for me, I guess I'd rather have a tiny bit more undetectable dirt on my raspberries than adulterate them with a mild lemony flavor (or, worse yet, soapy). Honestly, I don't understand why we're so afraid of a little dirt. I can see that it makes sense to get rid of coatings on fruits and whatnot. I wash citrus, for example, because I want to be able to get the oils out better. But I've never felt the need to exhaustively wash broccoli I'm getting ready to cook beyond getting off any immediately apparent dirt -- and a quick splash under the tap is usually all that is required for that.

Nice find, Mitch. Here are some quotes I found relevant: This article says that produce washes are as good "as good a job as chlorinated water and sometimes better" at reducing pathogenic microorganisms from produce, and one researcher says he would recommend Fit "if you are concerned about pathogenic microorganisms on your produce." As for pesticides:

handwashing dish soap is actually detergent. not that this automatically means much; any mix of chemical surfacants (as opposed to natural fat-based soap) is called detergent. i imagine some detergents are much nastier than others. dishwasher detergent has a lot of stuff besides surfacants in it that you don't want on or in your body--like powerful alkaline chemicals and bleaches. Right. Detergent is just a cleaning surfactant that is not soap. For sure Veggie Wash includes detergent. The list of ingredients includes: water -- I think this is the main ingredient "natural cleaners made from corn and coconut" -- aka ammonium lauryl/laureth sulfate (most regular dish soaps use sodium lauryl/laureth sulfate, but ammonium lauryl/laureth sulfate are detergents which are commonly used in some of the "less gentle" shampoo formulations) lemon oil sodium citrate -- this is a common food additive used to provide a tart taste in soft drinks like Sprite (most likely included, along with the lemon oil, to mask any potentially soapy flavors with "lemony/tart" flavors) glycerin -- increases soap bubbling, etc. grapefruit seed extract -- unproven, but held by some to have antibacterial and antifungal properties The rub is the ammonium lauryl/laureth sulfate. Detergent all the way, just sneakily listed as "natural cleaners made from corn and coconut." I have no first-hand knowledge, however the statement I quoted above said: This strikes me as a somewhat dubious claim, considering that water contamination is a major criticism of pesticide use. I think it's true that they are designed so that they have some staying power, but the EPA says solubility of 30 parts per million or lower is better, which is far from "waterproof."

Well, I'm thinking more like the fact that the $6.99 unscented, flavorless, eco-friendly dish soap costs only around twice as much as a bottle of Veggie Wash and contains something like a thousand times more vegetable washes, considering that Veggie Wash recommends a quarter-cup of Veggie Wash to a gallon of water and you'd use the other stuff a drop at a time (or possibly even less). Even using the comparison of Dawn or Palmolive, it's possible that we're just not diluting the dish soap enough (your "tiny squirt of Palmolive in a large mixing bowl" is already less dilute than what I was doing). My theory is that Veggie Wash is probably nothing more than unscented, flavorless, eco-friendly dish soap diluted in lots of water, and that we should be able to make our own Veggie Wash equivalent at home for a minute fraction of the price. Yea. I think that's the major barrier to using common dish soap on soft and/or porous foods: the soapy taste. Although it may be possible to eliminate this problem if the soap is sufficiently diluted, and certain formulations may not have this problem. I also wonder whether, for these foods, it might not just be better to keep a big jug of RealLemon lemon juice in the refrigerator and dilute that in some water as a wash for these foods instead of using Veggie Wash.

Again, no one is saying that these meals can't be or never are delicious... just that they usually are not. I've given some reasons why I think this is so, based on my experiences with vegans and other health/ethics-based dietary philosophies. I think it's somewhat telling that one is unlikely to hear a non-vegan talk up the delicious food all his vegan friends eat, and indeed most people seem to agree that the best vegetarian restaurant dishes are more likely to be found at non-vegetarian restaurants.

I think if you are going to go as far as eating vegan for the rest of your life, it really must go beyond health issues. And vegans are not the only ones who choose to eat certain things on the basis of their ethics. There are many ways to be healthy, and I don't know anyone who has kept up eating vegan for 10 or 15 years just because it's better for you. And I have honestly never heard anyone vegan talk about complete proteins as part of normal conversation. When we talk about food, we talk about new things we've tried that are delicious. When you're eating vegan, talking about making something even more healthy is kind of silly. Most of what you're eating is going to be pretty healthy, though not necessarily, given the abundance of vegan snack food items. I've known dozens and dozens of practicing vegans, not to mention practitioners of even more restrictive dietary philosophies such as raw foodists. Without exception, a primary concern was the perceived health impact of the food and they tended to view food as fuel rather than something that gives pleasure. This may not have been true 100% of the time -- there was occasional splurging. But, in general, if there were two ways to treat an ingredient and one of them is more ascetic (e.g, using raw tomatoes instead of slow-poaching them in extra virgin olive oil), most vegans will choose the more ascetic option unless it is some kind of special occasion. As for whether your vegan friends are talking about the health aspects of their food, I certainly hope they are. A practitioner of such a restrictive diet needs to pay close attention to make sure they are consuming sufficient protein, etc. -- and especially Vitamin B12. The larger point I was making, however, was simply that vegans are already facing a steep road to deliciousness due to the fact that the diet is so restrictive. Since health and ethical concerns are the primary reasons for adopting this dietary and lifestyle choice, the road is even more steep. Vegans don't have to sit around talking about making their food more healthy ethical. These priorities pervade the lifestyle. I mean, let's be honest here: we're talking about people who eat salad as often two meals a day on a regular basis. There's absolutely no reason it can't be outstanding. But it's also a fact that it rarely is. I also think it's worthy of note that most people seem to agree that the most delicious vegetarian and/or vegan food is often prepared by cooks who don't practice those dietary philosophies -- and who, I would argue, have a fundamentally different outlook on food because their primary goal is deliciousness.

Interesting results, Steven. A few questions and thoughts: How much Palmolive did you use, and in how much water? In the experiments I did (which did not involve raspberries, peaches or grapes but did involve citrus, lettuce and other greens) I filled the entire kitchen sink with water and added around a quarter teaspoon of Dawn. That was plenty to get the same effects ascribed to Veggie Wash, and I probably could have used less. I did not detect any residual flavor from the soap, although it seems clear from your experiences that certain foods are more affected than others. I gather that the main difference was that you detected more residual taste and a more objectionable aftertaste on the items treated with Palmolive? But that there was otherwise no observable difference in the extent to which the different pieces of fruit appeared to have been cleaned of various residues by the two different treatments? Assuming you used minimal Palmolive as I did, I wonder what results might be obtained by either a) further reducing the amount of detergent (e.g., a single drop of detergent in a kitchen sink full of water), or b) using a citrus-based "low impact" organic detergent like this one instead of Palmolive.

I think it goes beyond that. There's an element of asceticism in the way most vegans I've met have practiced their dietary code. A lot of them are just not comfortable with the hedonistic enjoyment of food. There are certainly vegans out there who are culinary hedonists, but not many. Even the best vegan food out there -- for example the Korean Buddhist vegetarian restaurant Hangawi in New York -- tends to reflect the ascetic aesthetic. A vegan restaurant styled after a Michelin three-star restaurant, while a theoretical possibility, would sort of be missing the point. Yes, this is exactly the point. I think someone (Steingarten?) wrote about a survey of American and British that asked them why they were vegetarian. "Health reasons" was the huge #1, with "ethical reasons" a strong #2. Every other reason was dwarfed by these two reasons. It's interesting to note, then, that America and the UK have by far the largest percentage of people who are vegetarians for reasons other than religion or scarsity of animal-derived foods. So, here's the thing: If achieving deliciousness is not the cook's primary goal in preparing vegan food and experiencing deliciousness is not the diner's primary desire in consuming vegan food, it shouldn't come as a huge surprise that vegan food is not often delicious. Clearly vegetarian and vegan food can be delicious. Look at the wonderful vegetarian food of India, for example. But Indian vegetarian food grew out of an entirely different mindset. They said: "Our religion says that we cannot eat certain foods. Okay, we will cook with the goal of deliciousness within the dietary restrictions imposed by our religion." The result is a great tradition of delicious vegetarian cooking. Most vegans do not regard their dietary choice in the same way as religiously-restricted people do. For most of them, the dietary restriction is merely part of a larger philosophy of food that places primary importance on perceived health and ethical issues. One is more often to hear a vegan say something like, "I added such-and-such to this dish in order to make a complete protein" than "*I added such-and-such to this dish because these two ingredients are delicious together." I would argue that, while it is not impossible to create delicious food that is vegan, the task is made incredibly more difficult by being so restricted in its use of ingredients that humans are genetically programmed to consume and crave. So long as deliciousness takes a back seat to other issues, it's unlikely that vegan cooking will be particularly delicious. This is especially true with respect to the way vegan cooking is perceived by non-vegans. Non-vegans are used to consuming a wider range of ingredients, including those the body is programmed to crave and consume, and are used to partaking of cooking traditions that prioritize deliciousness (plk's Thanksgiving example, while interesting, doesn't reflect everyday mainstream vegan cooking, nor does it seem particularly hedonistic compared to a mainstream omnivore Thanksgiving). A number of vegans and raw foodists claim to derive gustatory pleasure from their diet, and while I cannot discount their subjective experiences I do think these subjective evaluations are greatly influenced by the loss of context created by a highly restricted diet and also the fact that many of these diets are extremely low calorie and hunger is the greatest seasoning.

Todd, did you use blended or bonded applejack? The blended product (comes in a bottle that looks like this) is only around 35% apple brandy blended with neutral spirits and a little apple wine. It has a much lighter flavor and color compared to the bonded product (comes in a bottle that looks like this, which is 100 proof and 100% apple brandy.

I'd just do a bonded applejack Old Fashioned Cocktail: 2 oz bonded applejack (there's your apple), 1 tsp 2:1 demerara syrup (there's your caramel) and 2 dashes of aromatic bitters (there's your spice). Stir/strain/garnish with a fat twist.

Short answer: Big ice cubes take longer to chill the drink and also melt at a slower rate compared to cracked or crushed ice. This is useful when you are shaking a drink, because it gives you the opportunity to shake the drink longer (thereby getting better aeration, creating better foam, etc.) without watering the drink down. Long answer: Check out the thread on ice. I also, despite being a traditionalist, prefer the modern differentiation between a smash and a julep (the former containing muddled citrus and being served on the rocks). I don't see much point in changing the name just because the size of the drink is different. Or should we start calling the gigantic restaurant cocktail a "Martone."

Steven, you have some points, but some of your examples demonstrate why google searching has its limitations in a discussion like this. Pizza al taglio, for example, simply means "pizza in slices." This is typically a long rectangular pizza that is sold in slices by the pound -- common in Rome, but by no means unknown elsewhere. Regardless, this is something that every Italian understands is very closely related to pizza Napoletana and the other typical forms of pizza one might find around Italy. (I should point out that I am not suggesting that pizza Napoletana defines "pizza.") Pizza fritta is something that evolved from pizzeria more or less by some pizzaiolo putting another piece of dough on top of regular pizza and tossing it into a fryer. Again, not very far removed at all. Pizza ripiena is not exactly the same thing as a calzone, although I should point out that a calzone is nothing more than a regular pizza that has been folded in half before baking (again, not very far removed at all). Pizza ripiena actually takes a number of forms. Most often, it's simple a regular pizza with more-than-usual toppings that is covered with another piece of dough and baked. Clearly related to the same concept of pizza and not very far removed at all. I'm going to disagree with you that plenty of Italians would call sfincione "pizza." Of course there are some, but this wouldn't be any more than might call focaccia "pizza", which it clearly is not. I'll also disagree that any of these things is less recognizably "pizza" to an Italian than Chicago Style. In any event, your point is well made that there are other things called "pizza" by Italians. I'm not sure I agree with the rest of your point, however. Look at it this way: There are plenty of things that are called "biscuit" in this country. We have sourdough biscuits, yeast biscuits, baking powder biscuits, drop biscuits, rolled biscuits, tall/fluffy biscuits and shorter crisper biscuits. These encompass a fairly wide, but also understandably related category of "biscuit." But there are other things called "biscuit" as well. We have dog biscuits, tea biscuits, hard biscuits, beaten biscuits, and so on. "Biscuit" is even slang for a woman's breast. And in Canada "biscuit" may mean "small, flattish sweet cakes." It would not be any less appropriate to call a scone or a cupcake a "biscuit" than it would be to call a calzone a kind of "pizza." And yet, if you were to take an American from the Deep South to a restaurant in Parma that was serving "ham biscuits" that consisted of prosciutto inside a panino (prosciutto is a kind of ham, of course, and a panino could certainly be considered a type of yeast-raised "biscuit") I would expect that person to say: this is a pretty good sandwich, but I don't know why they're calling it a "biscuit." Ultimately, however (and I guess I wasn't clear above), I don't really have a problem with calling it "Chicago Style" or "Deep Dish" pizza. Regardless of the fact that I think it's more related to other kinds of foods, I can certainly see how it is related to the American conception of pizza (e.g., the typical seasonings and ingredients, the fact that it is served in slices like a pizza, etc.). But I can equally see why an Italian would be just as mystified at calling that food "pizza" as my hypothetical American Southerner would be eating his "ham biscuit" in Parma.

Most of the Vollrath Tribute line is 8 gauge (except for the very smallest pieces, which are 10 gauge). They are aluminum core with an interior and exterior cladding of stainless steel, just like the All-Clad Stainless line. However, Vollrath's specifications are actually a little better. Tim, a micrometer-equipped eGulleter, recently measured All-Clad Stainless at 0.100 inches (2.54 mm) thickness, and MC-2 at 0.120 inches (3.05 mm). 8 gauge aluminum is 0.1285 inches (3.26 mm) thick. This strikes me as a small difference, but certainly a meaningful one considering that you can get a 10 inch Vollrath Tribute frypan with better specifications for around 45 bucks whereas the same size frypan in All-Clad Stainless retails for over 100 dollars and deep discounts at around 70 (MC-2 retails at around 90 and deep discounts to around 60).

Several things come to mind: 1. It strikes me that most cultures that consume a wide variety of mammals are situated in areas where the conditions are congenial to, and sometimes require raising and hunting a wide variety of animals in a relatively small geographical area. A great example of this would be the Italian peninsula. America, on the other hand, due to the fact that the vast majority of our country consists of a large flat place in the middle, is better suited to growing lots of the same plants or animals over a large geographical area. This, combined with the fact that we are a young country and have largely optimized our meat industry to take advantage of shipping and economies of scale, has resulted in fewer "regional meats" and less choice overall. In Italy (France, etc.) on the other hand, it's impossible to grow a zillion cows in one place in the middle of the country and to feed all those cows on ten zillion tons of corn all grown in on place in the middle of the country. This "geographically mandated diversity," as well as the much greater age of the culture, has resulted in a wider variety of "regional meat" traditions (the people in the central mountains eat guinea fowl and lentils, the people a few miles away on the coasts do not, etc.). Plenty of cultures, however, have even narrower meat consumption than the States. Some eat practically nothing but goat and lamb. 2. Another reason we don't eat a wider variety of mammals here is because many of them are prohibitively expensive. When I'm in Italy, rabbit costs no more than chicken. So I eat a lot of rabbit. Everyone does. But here, it's too expensive to be more than an occasional treat and, frankly, if I'm going to spend 20 bucks on a three pound bone-in small animal yielding around 1.5 pounds of meat, I'm likely to go for something a bit more exciting than rabbit. This is too bad, because rabbit is a mild, lean and healthful meat. You can say similar things about bison: why spend 20 bucks a pound on a bison strip steak when you can get better-tasting aged beef for the same price? 3. The end of my previous point takes me directly to this one: some of the products that "they" seem to want us to try simply aren't all that good (certainly not good enough to pay the much higher prices). This may have to do with the fact that the meats don't sell as well and therefore are more likely to have been frozen, resulting in a mushy texture. But sometimes... well, here's an example: Fat Guy and I once had the opportunity to sample a bunch of dishes at a good "second tier" Manhattan steakhouse. When it came time for the steaks, they gave us several. I think there was a ribeye for two, a porterhouse for two and a bone-in bison strip steak. Needless to say, there was no way we were going to eat it all, but we wanted to try everything. We both took one bite of the (perfectly cooked) bison steak and decided that we wouldn't waste any more precious stomach space on it. It simply wasn't very good. 4. I think that the early industrialization of the American food system combined with the early and wholesale proliferation of monoculture (largely abetted by mass media but also overtly and covertly encouraged by the government, especially during the Cold War years) resulted in the narowing-down of American food choices and we standardized on the three mammals that are the least "challenging" in beef, pork and chicken. This effect may have been especially magnified in the years immediately following the Second World War when industrialization, television/mass media and nationwide uniformity/conformity really took off in the States.

Indeed, most Siciliani would say that sfincione is not pizza. Chicago Style Pizza I suppose falls within the definition of what we call pizza in the United States. But, really, Americans will call anything that involves a bread-based base topped with some combination of something vaguely saucy, something vaguely cheesy and/or something vaguely Italian-tasting "pizza." Thus, a lamejun is an "Armenian pizza" and a tostada is a "Mexican pizza." Even focaccia, which is certainly not pizza, could fall under this definition (and is considered a kind of pizza by many Americans). Chicago Style Pizza certainly has more in common with a casserole and many other non-pizza dishes than it does with pizza. I would argue that it is only the vaguely Italian flavors, including the copious use of tomato sauce and mozzarella cheese, that makes Chicago Style Pizza "pizza." For example, if you take a thin crust and top it with some braised lamb, thin potato slices and cheese and bake it in a hot oven, you've got a lamb and potato pizza. Make that same dish "Chicago Deep Dish Style" and you have a Shepherd's Pie. The foregoing notwithstanding... for better or worse, we call it "pizza" in the States and, if you're me anyway, it can be delicious. But I agree that most Italians would not consider it pizza.

Vacuum seal and keep it in the refrigerator. If you can, see if you can pick up the half-bottles instead of the full bottles.