browniebaker

Jim, thank you for recognizing the possibilities in mac and cheese! I am printing out your list of wines to show to my oenophile husband who dismisses mac and cheese as a food unworthy of wine, even my special recipe for mac and cheese. Oh, I can just imagine the lively discussion we'll have over dinner tonight . . . .

Thank you for some of the best food-writing around today. As a die-hard fan of pimento cheese, I love your essay, "P.C. and Proud of It." Something I have long wanted to ask you is, how do you really like your pimento cheese? In My Mother's Southern Kitchen, your mother, Mrs. Villas, chides you for putting green olives in your pimento cheese, but in your essay, "P.C. and Proud of It," you take a purist position that pimento cheese should have little other than pimentos, cheese, mayonnaise, and pepper in it. How to explain the discrepancy? Is it that your position has changed over time? I would be grateful for any other thoughts you could share on pimento cheese. Many thanks. BTW, I have all three of the cookbooks you and your mother co-wrote, and I cook from them all the time. I happen to be making your mother's recipe for dirty rice (My Mother's Southern Kitchen) for dinner tonight.

skinny oven-fried chicken (skinless; marinaded in buttermilk, cayenne, and salt; rolled in flour, then egg, then a mixture of flour, cornmeal, cayenne, black pepper, and salt) milk gravy mashed potatoes buttered peas and carrots sliced tomato shortbread cookies (cut with the fluted heart-, club-, spade-, and diamond-shaped cookie cutters I have used for shortbread since I was eight years old, and no other cookie shape will do)

I use high-gluten bread flour, a high water-to-flour-ratio (7/8 cup water to 2 cups flour), and a long fermentation in the refrigerator, and I am able easily to stretch this dough in the air with my fists to a 14-inch-diameter circle before laying it on the peel. All I know, empirically, is that this method gives me great extensibilty resulting in a very thin crust that does not tear in stretching and bakes up very crisp and crackly and blistery and flavorful on a stone at 550 degrees F (the highest my oven reaches). I think the long, cold fermentation is key. By the time I take the dough out of the fridge, anywhere from one to three days after kneading, it is slumping in the bowl, nearly flat, as limp and docile as one could wish. Regarding extensibility and your argument that high-gluten flour necessarily yields a springy, thick, puffy crust, please consider this: the ultra-thin phyllo dough is made with none other than high-gluten flour, yet it stretches out easily and phenomenally thin. It may be that you and I are baking under different conditions and getting different results, but, having tried low-gluten flour with inferior results, I am going to continue using high-gluten flour.

My husband can't stand to see this, so I wait until I am alone: Steam a hamburger or hotdog roll or other white bread until warm, soft, and pillowy. Take the one-pound block of Plugra butter out of the freezer and slice off a 3/8"-thick slab. Slap the frozen slab of butter in the warm bread and eat at once. Feel the butter melt on your tongue.

To Gary Soup and Eatingwitheddie: Eastern Bakery makes just about every traditional variety of mooncake: plain, single-yolk, and double-yolk lotus-paste; plain, single-yolk, and double-yolk red-bean-paste; plain, single-yolk, and double-yolk black-bean-paste; and my favorite mixed-nut. The mixed-nut ones come in shapes, too, like pigs and Buddhas. I confess I tried and liked them all. But you won't find at Eastern Bakery any of the new-fangled varieties some of you have mentioned on this thread. This place is as old-fashioned as can be. Eastern Bakery also makes the best bo lo mien bao (crusty-topped baked bun) of all the places I tried. It was the site of my humiliating begging for the recipe, declined repeatedly with a silent shake of the head! Eastern Bakery's mixed-nut mooncake had the best flavor among the mixed-nut mooncakes I tried in S.F. Chinatown, including the ones at Golden Gate Bakery, which I made a point to try because of the line of people coming out of its front door (it must be good, right?). I decided that Golden Gate's forte must be something other than mooncakes. Personally, I didn't "get" why the place was so popular. Their bo lo mien bao (crusty-topped baked bun) wasn't anything special. Gary, I think you're right that all those people are lined up for egg tarts, which I noticed they do run out of early in the day. As for dim sum, my two favorite places were Great Oriental and New Asia because they both meet my litmus test for a dim-sum place, i.e. make an exceptional deep-fried savory taro croquette (wu gok). Everything else on their menus that I tried was excellent. Great Oriental is a small place, where you find locals eating dim-sum breakfast as early as 7:30 (I think that's when they open) and where the dim-sum offerings rotate and were slightly different every day. New Asia has a huge, fancy banquet-hall that seats a lot and offers the same large menu of dim sum every day. One caveat: my experience in S.F. Chinatown came before I discovered egullet.com and chowhound.com, so I unfortunately did not then have the benefit of your insights as to good dim-sum places. I think if I went again I would definitely have to try the places that people have raved about in dim-sum threads. edited: italicizing correctly, and sundry typos!

One of the most cringe-inducing moments at a restaurant happened when I was in high school and was having dinner out with my parents and two brothers, also high-school-age. Our waitress was a very pretty blonde girl, just my big brother's "type." When the waitress came to our table to ask whether everything was all right, my brother piped up and declared, "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen." I don't think anyone said another word during dinner or the drive home.

On the rare occasion when I get to cook for myself alone, without competing palates of husband and children to consider, I refer to a list I keep of my favorite foods (constantly updated!) and put together a fantasy meal with total disregard for balanced nutrition, aethetics, and combinations of flavors, colors, or textures. The meal is comprised of whatever foods I have been craving, maybe foods my family does not care for or combinations that might make others cringe. A caseophile, I last week made myself a very cheesy meal that would have been too much cheese in one sitting for my family: a platter of Brie, Bleu d'Auvergne, and St. Andre cheeses with water crackers; my ultimate macaroni and cheese; a grilled cheese sandwich; a pimiento-cheese sandwich, a grilled pizza sandwich, cream cheese and strawberry jam on toast, and fruitcake from last Christmas for dessert. I can do this as often as every week if I look for the opportunity; otherwise I would never get to do it. I don't set the table with any special fanfare. But a difference is that I get to read a good book while I eat, which is something my husband and I do not generally allow at table except for breakfast, when the morning paper is permitted. Another way I treat myself is to go out alone to my favorite restaurant for brunch on Saturday. I love eating alone in peace (something I appreciate a lot now that I have little children), either reading a book or people-watching or just savoring my food. It's easy to tell the the kids that I am going out on a few errands; I make sure to hit the grocery store before coming home, so I did indeed do something gainful and feel less guilty about my self-indulgent "frolic and detour."

Eastern Bakery is my favorite source for mooncakes. Located at 720 Grant Avenue in San Francisco, it is said to be the oldest mooncake-bakery in the U.S. When I lived for three months near (30 minutes' drive from) San Francisco two years ago, I was in heaven going to Chinatown every weekend for dim sum followed by a visit to a bakery. I tried mooncakes at various bakeries and settled on Eastern Bakery's as the best. They bake their own, so the mooncakes are as fresh as can be. They are a bit old-fashioned in that they have no web-site, but I think they would ship -- not sure, though. Their phone number is 415-433-7973, in case anyone feels like inquiring. I haven't tried mail-ordering mooncakes because I fear gaining back the fifteen pounds I gained during my time in San Francisco and lost as soon as I returned home. Back then, I had mooncakes every weekend; usual dosage was two mooncakes at one sitting. I have been mooncake-free since, as I don't know of a good source here in the Washington D.C. area where I live and don't even think any bakery here could some close to Eastern Bakery.

What smell are you talking about? I don't get it, and I'm not so sure I want to!

Ooh, I just received from Sur La Table an e-mailed, printable coupon for 20 percent off any one item in the store (in-store, in-stock only), good until August 24, "one coupon per customer visit"! Of course my brain gears are already going, trying to decide which item on my wish list to buy. I guess you have to be on their e-mail list to receive this coupon. Perhaps it's not too late for those who haven't already done so, to sign up on their website, surlatable.com, and still receive the coupon, although I am not sure.

I am sorry to belabor the point, Mrs. Inkling, but it is indeed proper, according to Chinese custom, to serve hot and sour soup with bottles of chili oil and vinegar for individual diners to adjust seasonings to taste. I grew up in a Chinese family, and my mother always served hot and sour soup with chili oil and vinegar at table because each of us had our individual preferences as to spiciness and sourness. My mother liked her soup mouth-searing hot, but the other four in the family were at various other positions on the spectrum of heat. Also, my mother couldn't tolerate much sourness before her eyes screwed shut, but I liked it very sour. At many Chinese restaurants, you see chili oil and soy sauce on the table, in recognition of the fact that people like to add such condiments to taste. And I would be pleased to have a bottle of vinegar as well when served hot and sour soup. Please try to see chili oil and vinegar being offered at table in the same light as salt and pepper being offered at table in the U.S. The chef seasons the dish as he thinks best, yet a diner is free to add more salt or pepper to his taste (after tasting first, of course!). Although I am no particular fan of Americanized-Chinese restaurants like P. F. Chang's, I have to hand it to them for serving hot and sour soup right, with chili oil and vinegar on the side.

The balance between hot and sour in the soup is really a matter of personal preference. if you have a recipe you like, why not simply increase the heat and decrease the sourness until you reach a balance you like?

Hair patch! LOL! But, seriously, how many of you have found pet or human hairs in your food when eating at someone else's house? I live in fear of my hair getting into what I cook, so I wear a hair-net, but I wonder all the time whether guests are finding my hair in their food and politely not saying anything!

Cinnamon Rolls Serves 18 as Side. Nothing beats cinnamon rolls warm from your own oven. These fluffy sweet rolls are swirled with ribbons of brown sugar and cinnamon (and raisins or pecans if you wish), and glazed with a deliciously rich, buttery-creamy icing that makes these cinnamon rolls extra-special. CINNAMON ROLLS Dough: 3 tablespoons unsalted butter 1-1/8 cups milk 3-1/2 cups all-purpose or bread flour (using dip-and-sweep method of measuring) 1/2 cup sugar 2 teaspoons instant yeast 1 teaspoon salt 1 large egg Filling: 3/4 cup packed light-brown sugar 2 tablespoons ground cinnamon 1/2 cup raisins or toasted chopped pecans (optional) Icing: 4 ounces cream cheese, softened 1/4 cup unsalted butter, softened 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract 8 ounces confectioners’ sugar To make dough, microwave butter and milk until warm, about 120 to 130 degrees. Add 1 cup flour, sugar, yeast, salt, and egg. Beat for three minutes. Stir in remaining flour. Knead until smooth and elastic, about eight to ten minutes. Place in covered bowl to proof until double in size. Position oven-rack at center of oven. Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Grease two 8”or 9" square or round pans. To make filling, combine sugar and cinnamon (and raisins or pecans, if using). Roll dough flat into rectangle. Spread and press filling evenly into dough. Taking care not to roll too tightly, roll up from longer edge of dough, and seal by pinching dough edge along length of roll. Cut cross-wise into 18 slices. Place rolls in pans. Cover and let rise until double in size. (Or, if baking the next morning for breakfast, cover and refrigerate overnight, and proof until double in size before baking.) Bake for about 20 minutes, or until tops are golden-brown. During baking, make icing by stirring together cream cheese, butter, vanilla, and sugar. Remove rolls from oven. Turn out in one piece onto serving plate. Ice rolls while hot. Serve at once. Makes 18 rolls. Freezes well. Keywords: Breakfast, Bread, American, Intermediate, Brunch, Topping/Frosting ( RG590 )

Dinner was inspired by a gift of morel mushrooms that my husband's colleague at work had picked and dried: morel soup (dried morels, minced shallot, bay leaf, thyme, chicken stock, sour cream, egg yolk, salt, pepper); cheese platter (triple-creme Brie, St.Andre, Bleu d'Auvergne, water crackers) tossed green salad chess pie

Why not? White Lily makes the best, most tender quick breads, meaning not just biscuits but pancakes and muffins as well. Some cakes that call for all-purpose flour are better made with White Lily, too. I hope you didn't try to make yeast-bread with White Lily, which is too low-gluten for that.

I have learned to be "busy" to such people when they telephone and say they are coming to town. The story is that we are going to a wedding, or that a nephew or my parents are coming to stay that weekend. I always offer to find them a hotel nearby. And I say "find" not "pay for" a hotel! My husband and I are not good at making up white lies on the spur of the moment, so our modus operandi is generally to say, "Sounds great! I have to check with [spouse] to make sure we're free," and then call back immediately thereafter to say, "Oops, I forgot that we have to go to a wedding out of town that weekend" or something like that. There's a couple (my husband's college friend and his wife) for whom I will never cook again. The last time they visited us (for four long days), they were picky, picky, picky. She looked at the five grape tomatoes in her salad and proclaimed, "Uhhhh, this is a bit much," before proceeding to transfer each slippery, dressed grape tomato, one by one, to her husband's plate. Just as I had poured a bowl of beaten eggs into a hot skillet to make a batch of scrambled eggs for everyone, he walked into the kitchen, saw me scrambling eggs, and volunteered, "Oh, if you're making scrambled eggs, I like mine dry, very dry. I can't stand wet eggs." Asked whether his two daughters (ages three and five) would prefer PBJ or tuna sandwiches for lunch (as in "choose one"), he said, "This one likes PBJ but hates tuna. That one likes tuna but won't touch PBJ." She said her two daughters wanted to eat some apple. I got an apple and proceeded to cut it up. But it seems I wasn't cutting fast enough for her. She grabbed the knife from me and said, "Let me do that. I do it much faster." Greedy pigs. Finally, they had said they would be leaving our house before breakfast on their last day because she would be having breakfast at the conference she was in town for. But, at the last minute, she decided to leave her husband and two daughters to have breakfast with us, and I was left cobbling up a breakfast I had not planned on having to cook and had not shopped for. Ugh, I was so happy when the guests from hell left!

Does one eat mooncakes? Are you kidding?! My family falls all over them, and I have never met anyone who dislikes them, much less gives them away. I sure wish I had friends who would give theirs to me. I have never even heard of mooncakes being passed along like an unwanted fruitcake -- that's a new one for me. My father favors the double-yolk lotus-seed-paste, and my mother and I favor the mixed-nut. We slice them in quarters and savor them with jasmine tea. Heaven!

Sushi and sashimi aren't uncommon in Chinese buffets. They're also found in rodizio restaurants on the salad bar. Mostly sushi, of course, but sometimes sashimi too. My favorite Chinese buffet restaurant has sushi and sashimi made fresh, even to order, by a sushi chef at a sushi station that is separate from the steam tables. I can know that the food hasn't been sitting around for a long time. The sushi and sashimi are pretty good, maybe an 8 or 9 on a scale of 10. Of course, there's a glass jar for tipping the chef; you pay extra, in a sense, for the sushi and sashimi (if you're conscientious about tipping!).

Is this an eating disorder, or just hyper-pickiness?

Our diverse experiences with crab -- or no-crab -- rangoons testify to the difference in quality among Chinese buffet restaurants in the U.S. "Crab rangoons " are reduced to mere lumps of cream cheese in won-ton skin, making the rangoons cheaper to produce. Similarly, on one buffet I saw "honey walnut shrimp" offered without walnuts, which are relatively expensive, and made only with fried shrimp and cubes of cucumber.

I love these! The first time I ever had them was a a few months ago at the Fortune Star Buffet in Bethesda, Maryland, which is probably the best Chinese buffet in the D.C. area. Their crab rangoons actually do have crab in them and are delicious. I'm of Chinese heritage and had never seen anything like a crab rangoon, but, as a caseophile, I find them irresistible.

The worst I have had was not really all THAT bad (as compared to some I have read about here!) so I guess I have been lucky. But it was a meal tough to get through. The hostess said the chili had been cooked for a dinner party the week before, and that left me wondering whether it had been frozen all that time or only refrigerated. The chili only half-filled the tureen in which she served it, and there were dried spatters of chili on the inside of the tureen, making me really wonder . . . . The chili turned out to be very bland and had in it discrete, almost raw chunks of tomato and firm kernels of corn. The green salad was another guest's contribution and obviously had been dressed in a vinaigrette before she arrived at the dinner party; the greens were a soggy and limp mess. The cornbread was the worst: I saw the hostess in the kitchen remove the clear plastic wrap from a store-bought chunk of cornbread which she did not even bother to warm up. The cornbread turned out to be hard and stale; I had to wonder whether it had been leftover from last week's dinner party as well. Just the fact of being served leftovers from an earlier dinner party puts me off, makes me feel slighted, like a second-best guest. Does anyone else feel this way? edited for typo

Even though Rose Levy Beranbaum's methods in The Cake Bible and The Pie and Pastry Bible are indeed advanced and exacting in many respects, I nevertheless recommend her books for beginners. First, these two books are excellent, with no-fail methods and recipes; that's the ultimate test of a cookbook, in my opinion. Second, I came late to her books, after I had been baking -- and making stupid mistakes in baking -- for years, and I wish I had started off with her books, for the superior methods and for the understanding she (a chemist by training) gives her reader of the whys and hows of baking. What I have learned of the chemistry of baking has helped me develop my own recipes and be more creative in my baking. How I rue of the many, many years of bad pie crusts before Rose Levy Beranbaum . . . . I am eagerly awaiting her The Bread Bible, which is scheduled to be released in October 2003.