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The perfect taste that spoils you for anything lesser


heidih

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I'm sure the server told us the chef filleted the fresh anchovies himself and packed them in salt to cure for a year before they're ready to be eaten. They were very fat and juicy and appeared to have had no cooking done to them. The light airy bread was toasted to perfection and carried the smoke flavour from the grill.

Huh. Sorry for the confusion. Perhaps they serve anchovies both ways? I have also known waiters to get things wrong. On my friend's tasting menu the anchovies were described as "salted anchovy with toasted bread" (he sent me a scan of the menu), and he was served this dish for which they're famous:

Anchoas a la Barbacoa Estilo Etxebarri

In any case, you can take Sanfilippo anchovies home with you, and this isn't marriage, one doesn't have to be faithful to a single anchovy!

Per la strada incontro un passero che disse "Fratello cane, perche sei cosi triste?"

Ripose il cane: "Ho fame e non ho nulla da mangiare."

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I used to pick mangos at a farm just outside Daily River in the Northern Terirtory, so can relate to all the mango comments. Although I did like to let them cool down in the fidge for a few hours before smashing them.

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I am, to some extent, this way with basically anything booze-related. I was a non-drinker for a while. Not for any philosophical reason or health-related motivation but because I didn't enjoy the taste of the (cheap) beer, (cheap) wine, (cheap) rum or (cheap) whisky I'd tried. If I didn't enjoy the flavour I wasn't interested in drinking. But ... being curious about things I decided to try, I don't know, some nice imported beers (thanks, Belgium) and single malt whiskies. And after that not only did I drink: I was unable to go back to the cheap stuff. I started with expensive tastes and, if I can't afford to satisfy them, will not drink.

Chris Taylor

Host, eG Forums - ctaylor@egstaff.org

 

I've never met an animal I didn't enjoy with salt and pepper.

Melbourne
Harare, Victoria Falls and some places in between

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I'm sure the server told us the chef filleted the fresh anchovies himself and packed them in salt to cure for a year before they're ready to be eaten. They were very fat and juicy and appeared to have had no cooking done to them. The light airy bread was toasted to perfection and carried the smoke flavour from the grill.

Huh. Sorry for the confusion. Perhaps they serve anchovies both ways? I have also known waiters to get things wrong. On my friend's tasting menu the anchovies were described as "salted anchovy with toasted bread" (he sent me a scan of the menu), and he was served this dish for which they're famous:

Anchoas a la Barbacoa Estilo Etxebarri

In any case, you can take Sanfilippo anchovies home with you, and this isn't marriage, one doesn't have to be faithful to a single anchovy!

A fellow anchovy polyamorist.

Chris Taylor

Host, eG Forums - ctaylor@egstaff.org

 

I've never met an animal I didn't enjoy with salt and pepper.

Melbourne
Harare, Victoria Falls and some places in between

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I have this feeling about pretty much all fresh produce.

I grew up in a culture that practically fetishises produce quality, but currently spend a lot of time in a region where decent fresh produce is scarce in shops, and my consumption of it is now about as low as it can get without being seriously unhealthy (and when I get my hands on the good stuff, I have to make a conscious effort to not attack it like a starving wolverine). But flavourless, soggy, maltreated fruit and vegetables... I just can't.

Michaela, aka "Mjx"
Manager, eG Forums
mscioscia@egstaff.org

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My Aunt Melcina's fig preserves.

Sadly, Aunt Melcina died about twenty years ago, and everybody in the family was asking everybody else if they happened to have any extra jars to share and everybody said no.

So I haven't had any since about fifteen years ago, when my Aunt Stella Mae died and we were going through her things to sell the house, and we discovered she had been hoarding a few dozen jars of Aunt Melcina's fig preserves hidden way back in her pantry.

:cool:

.

Edited by Jaymes (log)

I don't understand why rappers have to hunch over while they stomp around the stage hollering.  It hurts my back to watch them. On the other hand, I've been thinking that perhaps I should start a rap group here at the Old Folks' Home.  Most of us already walk like that.

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I'm seriously missing stone fruits and berries from California. I don't bother with the stuff in Australia as they just lack flavor. Also missing early girls tomatoes....

Yeah, is that right? The Cali stone fruits must be pretty good, because I've had some awesome peaches etc. in Oz.

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I'm seriously missing stone fruits and berries from California. I don't bother with the stuff in Australia as they just lack flavor. Also missing early girls tomatoes....

Yeah, is that right? The Cali stone fruits must be pretty good, because I've had some awesome peaches etc. in Oz.
Didn't really understand how good California fruits are until we moved. The varieties and flavors of stone fruits there are amazing.
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Oh. A food-related one. Road runner. When you're driving in the rural areas of Zimbabwe, even on the national highway, you'll get chickens running across the road. These random chickens, dodging buses and four-wheel-drives with skill, belong to locals. I first tasted 'road runner' sitting atop an upturned metal bucket. I was sitting in the dark, nursing some utility beer (for future reference if you're travelling in the region: a lot of the readily avaliable beers in Zimbabwe, which are either made locally or over the border in South Africa, suck to varying degrees--the pick of the bunch, by far, is 2M from Mozambique) and sitting with random old men (in the rural areas it's very easy to collect visitors), assorted uncles and a number of children. The chicken hadn't been carefully braised in stock w/ a roux and mirepoix. It had simply been boiled in water with a few other ingredients (tomatoes, a lot of salt, maybe some onion--the sauce had a watery gravy thing going on) over a fire in a dark, smoke-filled kitchen. Amazing. I've paid a lot of money for chicken. Of the readily avaliable commercial birds in Australia, I reckon I've tried most of them: from the supermarket-grade free rangers to the high end organic, free range birds put out by Saskia Beer. I've tried a number of farm-reared 'game' birds including pheasant, partridge and guinea fowl (the real deal, also avaliable in Zimbabwe, is vastly superior to the farmed stuff). I've had chicken prepared by high end restaurants. And all of this chicken--all of it--sucks in comparison to road runner. Commercial chicken is utility chicken.

Edited by ChrisTaylor (log)

Chris Taylor

Host, eG Forums - ctaylor@egstaff.org

 

I've never met an animal I didn't enjoy with salt and pepper.

Melbourne
Harare, Victoria Falls and some places in between

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Cycle-Camping in France as I do (off I go July 10 to Roscoff for a month).

At any market, tell the man, you want to eat the pears right away, he will oblige and you will be amazed.

Martial.2,500 Years ago:

If pale beans bubble for you in a red earthenware pot, you can often decline the dinners of sumptuous hosts.

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When we lived in Alaska, we went blueberry picking every summer. Around our necks, we wore transistor radios blaring music because we weren't the only Alaskan critters that love blueberries. Frequently we even saw little piles of still-steaming bear scat.

We'd stuff our faces with the sweet blueberries, often eating more than we took home.

Wild, just-picked Alaskan blueberries.

Haven't had any that come even close since we left.

I don't understand why rappers have to hunch over while they stomp around the stage hollering.  It hurts my back to watch them. On the other hand, I've been thinking that perhaps I should start a rap group here at the Old Folks' Home.  Most of us already walk like that.

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As odd as it sounds, good bread.

I grew up in NJ, eating the same bread from the same italian bakery from almost day I was old enough my Grandfather could get me to gnaw on a piece until I move away 17 years later to SC.

I have found a handful of places where I can truely enjoy the bread, and they charge an arm and a leg because it's "artesinal". No it's not, it's just making bread the way you're freakin supposed to! After much trial and error I've resorted to making it myself and have it right where I like it.

Same for Italian sausage. We got a few pounds a week from the same little Italian deli, made fresh by the Southern Italian sisters who owned it. Simple, proper, and delicious. Don't get me started on their Arancine made fresh every Saturday for lunch.

I'll shut up now, I'm getting hungry.

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The only time I will eat sweet corn is when I have gotten it from my garden an hour or less before I sit down to eat it. I know the supersweet and sugar enhanced hybrids don't lose their flavor as quickly after picking but they are often too sweet and don't taste properly "corny" so I prefer the old-fashioned varieties that need to be eaten quickly.

I see the shrink-wrapped stuff that passes for corn on the cob here and shudder. I am so looking forward to decent corn when I'm back in the US in August.

When we lived in Alaska, we went blueberry picking every summer. Around our necks, we wore transistor radios blaring music because we weren't the only Alaskan critters that love blueberries. Frequently we even saw little piles of still-steaming bear scat.

We'd stuff our faces with the sweet blueberries, often eating more than we took home.

Wild, just-picked Alaskan blueberries.

Haven't had any that come even close since we left.

Wild blueberries or Saskatoons are super. However, there is nothing more disgusting than a Samoyed that has rolled in bear scat in berry season...

It's almost never bad to feed someone.

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As odd as it sounds, good bread.

I grew up in NJ, eating the same bread from the same italian bakery from almost day I was old enough my Grandfather could get me to gnaw on a piece until I move away 17 years later to SC.

I have found a handful of places where I can truely enjoy the bread, and they charge an arm and a leg because it's "artesinal". No it's not, it's just making bread the way you're freakin supposed to! After much trial and error I've resorted to making it myself and have it right where I like it.

Same for Italian sausage. We got a few pounds a week from the same little Italian deli, made fresh by the Southern Italian sisters who owned it. Simple, proper, and delicious. Don't get me started on their Arancine made fresh every Saturday for lunch.

I'll shut up now, I'm getting hungry.

agree. Growing up in NJ spoils you for bread, and things made with bread (pizza).

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  • 2 weeks later...

For me - Corn!

The stuff they sell here is fairly juicy, but flavourless. I really thought it was cattlecorn first time I had it.

I tried growing my own in the garden from seeds from back home - but they didn't have the flavour, my soil is not good for it.

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A friend came from Quebec last weekend and brought some fresh Montreal bagels. I could have died right there on the spot. Nothing, repeat, NOTHING is as good as a bagel made Montreal style.

Darienne

 

learn, learn, learn...

 

We live in hope. 

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Everything that smells the way it should. Fruits and berries that smell like misty garden early in the morning, fish that smells of sea. I came to conclusion that I'd rather stay hungry for a while than eat something that has no smell or has unnatural odor or taste.

And one more thing, do you eat foods if you don't know/can't understands what it is made of? :huh:

Be sweety - visit my blog BestCupCakeSecrets.com :blush::wub:

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Everything that smells the way it should. Fruits and berries that smell like misty garden early in the morning, fish that smells of sea. I came to conclusion that I'd rather stay hungry for a while than eat something that has no smell or has unnatural odor or taste.

And one more thing, do you eat foods if you don't know/can't understands what it is made of? :huh:

Couldn't agree more. Last time I was back in Canada I considered some peaches at the supermarket, but they smelled like cardboard. The ones off my tree here at home smell engagingly and complexly like peaches, and taste like 'em too.

If I don't know what's in it and it's a prepared dish at a comedor or similar, or at a roadside cart, I'll try it once. If it's a prepackaged deal with a list of ingredients as long as my arem, that have more than 2 or 3 syllables and very chemical names, it's not going in my belly.

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Elizabeth Campbell, baking 10,000 feet up at 1° South latitude.

My eG Food Blog (2011)My eG Foodblog (2012)

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Everything that smells the way it should. Fruits and berries that smell like misty garden early in the morning, fish that smells of sea. I came to conclusion that I'd rather stay hungry for a while than eat something that has no smell or has unnatural odor or taste.

And one more thing, do you eat foods if you don't know/can't understands what it is made of? :huh:

Couldn't agree more. Last time I was back in Canada I considered some peaches at the supermarket, but they smelled like cardboard. The ones off my tree here at home smell engagingly and complexly like peaches, and taste like 'em too.

If I don't know what's in it and it's a prepared dish at a comedor or similar, or at a roadside cart, I'll try it once. If it's a prepackaged deal with a list of ingredients as long as my arem, that have more than 2 or 3 syllables and very chemical names, it's not going in my belly.

Yes!! I always ask my friends to leave can on shelfs it you can't imagine it's ingredients growing, flying, running or swimming))

Be sweety - visit my blog BestCupCakeSecrets.com :blush::wub:

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