eG Foodblog: John Whiting

[John Whiting]

Sorry, terrible pun intended.

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No apologies--puns are obligatory in our household!

It's 1am in London and tired old whitings should should get out of the swim. Good night!

[little ms foodie]

Happy Birthday John, I would have posted my wishes sooner however I've also been busy putting together cassoulet- you have inspired me!

I've loved your blog- thank you for sharing!

[Ling]

Happy Birthday and best wishes! Thank-you for documenting the making of your birthday cassoleut. You've inspired me to attempt this dish in 2006 too!

[Marc Olson]

As a fan of savory, slow cooked foods, I love cassoulet. I must admit that I've only made it once myself, consumed a memorable version in Paris at a restaurant near the Louvre at lunch (we took the balance with us--it was too much, but made for a great breakfast the next day).

Last year a friend and I teamed up to make it for the main dinner at an annual 'Dad's and Kids' weekend ski trip (guess where the Moms were?). He used Julia's multi-part recipe that's very much in your style of 'make each part great' and then combine. I contributed the duck confit, he did the rest.

Your tradition brought that weekend back, and reminded me that it's time for a cassoulet, right here, right now. Once, that is, I've managed to acquire the appropriate tapered cassoulet vessel...

Happy birthday, and I will look forward to next year's celebration.

Marc

[mizducky]

Many thanks for a most elegant and instructive blog, Mr. Whiting, sir. I hope to be putting to use what I've learned here really soon.

[Tepee]

Squeeeezing in my birthday wishes to you too, Mr John Whiting! This mustn't be your last/only blog.....it has been such an incredibly insightful trip. Thank you.

[Adam Balic]

Wonderful! Although, one hopes that the reclining lighthouse is not overly symbolic.

Best (late) Birthday wishes.

[John Whiting]

Wonderful! Although, one hopes that the reclining lighthouse is not overly symbolic.

Best (late) Birthday wishes.

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I was waiting for someone to pick up on that. Look again. It's an optical illusion stemming from the fact that we're seeing the inside of half a lighthouse, but interpret it as the outside, which is what we expect to see.

Whole books have been written about tricks of perspective such as this. Adam, you're not alone; I puzzled over the photo for more than a few seconds before I realized what tricks my eyes were playing. Is there an analogy to be drawn with the nasty tricks the food industry plays on us with artificial flavors?

[Adam Balic]

Good God, who would have thought that an ornamental phallic symbol could be so tricky.

Still, I am well known for my lack of perspective, so it is only to be expected.

Speaking of artificial flavours etc, what natural extract did the blue for the icing come from?

[Marco_Polo]

"By popular demand", Mary has written up the terrine recipe:

Terrine des fruits

Mary's the real cook in our house. She's written six food books--and she bakes!

For fans of both John AND Mary, I can't help but point you to another site that includes recipes from both of them: John's thoughts and method for his tried and tested home version of Southern barbecue with as an added bonus Mary's pineapple rice salad. John's approach here is similar to his approach for cassoulet in perfecting a way to achieve authentic results in a home kitchen. It's one of my all-time favorites! But that, of course, is another story.

[John Whiting]

Speaking of artificial flavours etc, what natural extract did the blue for the icing come from?

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Mary has her own method of making waves; she'll share it when she gets back from the Food Commission, where she helps to make waves of a different sort.

Mary did warn us that the color was artificial, but most of us, including me, ate it anyway. The plate with the uneaten blue icing was hers. I polished it off later when she wasn't looking.

Edited January 18, 2006 by John Whiting (log)

[John Whiting]

Oysters, too!

Sadly absent from my birthday dinner was Hugh Macdonald, designer of my website and long-time companion on my travels. Hugh and Meg have gone off to Najac to restore the old Notary's House. I am green with envy.

But in the midst of redistributing the mediaeval dust, they did not forget the friends they left behind. This morning I took delivery of a dozen Loch Fyne oysters and a tub of smoked mussels!

Tonight we shall partake of Huîtres Marinières, an extravagance wickedly suggested by Colin Spencer in his indispensible Fish Cookbook. As luxuries go, I would rate it above caviar. It’s a simple matter of simmering onions, shallots and garlic in olive oil, adding the oysters along with a very generous splash of white wine, and simmering until the oysters open. It’s made simpler still by the huge frying pan with a tight lid that I bought several years ago at Dehillerin, the great Paris cookery shop:

Remove the oysters...

...add a nub of butter and reduce the juices to ambrosial essence of seaside euphoria.

Edited January 17, 2006 by John Whiting (log)

[John Whiting]

Warren Leming has sent me a fair copy of his birthday poem. It's here.

Edited January 18, 2006 by John Whiting (log)

[Smithy]

John, your writing is as lovely as your cookery (and Mary's). Thank you, and Mary, for sharing your birthday celebration with us in such a lovely and informative way. I'm looking forward to making both cassoulet and that gorgeous terrine....and the tomatade, and any number of other luscious-looking dishes you've presented for us.

Here's wishing you many excellent years to come!

Edited as I remembered more of the glories of the week.

Edited January 17, 2006 by Smithy (log)

[John Whiting]

Mary makes waves...

I’m afraid that the blustery waves are merely coloured with Langdale’s green and blue food colourings mixed with white icing. I find the easiest way to make the wave shapes is to flick the icing on with a small (artist’s) palette knife. I always suggest to people that they might not want to eat such lurid looking stuff, and that I won’t be eating it myself, but rather to my surprise almost no one ever leaves any of it.

The marzipan, by the way, is based on mediaeval recipes, and includes brandy, sherry, lemon juice and orange flower water. I’m usually not that keen on ordinary marzipan, but this is something else again!

Mary Whiting

[John Whiting]

I’ve spent the last two hours of my blog watching the BBC TV drama, “Elizabeth David: A Life in Recipes”. I found it deeply moving--not so much for what it said, as for what it allowed to exist behind the dramatic surface. It covered only the middle part of her life and centered--as all modern biography must--more on her love life than her missionary zeal. But it nevertheless accomplished something rare. It conveyed with remarkable vividness that in order to do what she did, where she did it and when she did it, and to do it with such passionate wisdom, she had to be, like all artists, more than a little crazy. Thank you Elizabeth David: some of us in England, and even in America, are eating more wisely and more joyously because of you.

Edited January 17, 2006 by John Whiting (log)

[Jake]

Thank you, John, for a truly exceptional blog. Belated birthday wishes and hopes that the coming year will exceed all the ones that have gone before...

[Lady T]

Sneaking in one last entry: many, many happy returns, Mr. Whiting, and many thanks for the information I will use in my next cassoulet attempt!

[Mooshmouse]

I've been following from the sidelines until now. What a warm and truly enchanting blog, John.

Sending you my best wishes for many more wonderful birthdays and cassoulets to come!

[IrishCream]

And one last huge thank you. Long time fan now even more impressed by your cooking and writing abilities. Not to mention the cooking abilities of your very lovely wife, Mary. Wishing you both a wonderful year.

Edited January 18, 2006 by IrishCream (log)

[Corinna Dunne]

I'm just catching up on this now. What a wonderful blog... and belated happy birthday.

[johnnyd]

Fabulous Oysters, John!

I can just taste it from here. I have prepared the same but oysters shucked first, and a dash of Pernod. I like the way they are packed in local seaweed too.

Thanks for a wonderful week,

John