Glorious Food "To Go"

[Carrot Top]

Madame Skordalia's long leg followed Kelsey Snidedoodle as it stretched itself out of the limo provocatively. She allowed it to dangle there momentarily, then the rest of her followed it out onto the sidewalk. She moved like a cat. A panther, to be precise. When her mouth opened, one expected to hear a meow. Or perhaps a hiss.

Madame was famous for her ice-creams in this city where ice-cream was eaten for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

"Hellooooo, all. I've just been up to Rachel's. Feeling a bit under the weather, she was. I brought her some of my Biscuit Tortoni to cheer her up. Now what are you all up to?"

"Sweet Skordalia", muttered Dave. "Tell me about your Tortoni."

Tortoni de Madame

5" springform pan, buttered or oiled

Combine 1/2 C crushed amaretti cookies with 1/3 C chopped toasted almonds.

Beat together 2 egg yolks, 1 Tbs. sugar, and 1 Tbs. amaretto till light.

In separate bowl beat 1 C heavy cream till stiff with 1/4 C confectioners sugar.

In another bowl beat 2 egg whites till stiff with a pinch of salt.

Stir amaretti mix into egg yolk mix, fold in whipped cream, then fold in egg whites. Spoon gently into mold and rap against table to expel any large air bubbles. Freeze three hours or till firm. Unmold by wrapping pan with hot towel for a moment then loosening contents with knife dipped in hot water and dried.

Decorate with 1/2 C crushed amaretti cookies.

"Hissssss", Madame said.

For she and Dave had a History.

[Carrot Top]

"If a tree falls in the forest, One-Eye, did it really happen if there was nobody there to hear it?" Randy smiled slowly as he turned to his Uncle Dave.

One-Eyed Dave snorted. "Been a long time since my tree fell near her."

As he spoke, Kelsey moved near Nee and placed his large paw-like hand on her head and ruffled the short strawberry-blond hair. "Nice cut, babydoll. A pixie?"

Nee slapped his hand and spit out "No, a gamine. It's French. That's where I learned to bite stray hands, too."

"Nice happy family here", said Jorge quietly.

"Dave was married to La Skordalia, didn't you know, Jorge?" Randy laughingly said. "That's how he developed his famous marinade recipe. She still uses it as a facial treatment."

Mutton Dressed as Lamb Marinade

........................................................

1 C plain yogurt

1/4 C fresh mint, chopped

2 Tbs. olive oil

1 Tbs. lemon juice

1 Tbs. minced scallion

1 tsp. honey

1 tsp. salt

Mix together and use as marinade for lamb to be grilled.

"Looks like we'll all need some of that as a facial before this day is through" muttered Jorge under his breath.

[Carrot Top]

Jorge still held the guinea pig in his arms. They looked as if they were meant to be together, as if they had known each other in a past life.

Kelsey Snidedoodle turned from his rebuff by Nee towards Jorge. "Hah!" he cried merrily. "Wait till the press hears about this! Native guinea pig on the menu?"

Jorge moved towards Kelsey angrily, and with a sudden lunge, the guinea pig jumped out of his arms. He landed with a slight plop! onto the sidewalk then he sauntered towards Kelsey Snidedoodle. Kelsey bent down to look at the animal, and with a quick jump, it flew into the air and bit him right on the nose.

Kelsey fell back, covering his face and swearing. But suddenly he stood stock still, then keeled right over.

............................................................................

The investigation took weeks. Finally the verdict was given as "death by misadventure". Rumors flew here and there, sideways and up and down.

Some thought it was Madame Skordalia (for Kelsey had stolen several of her best-selling ice cream recipes, that she had revealed to him during their lovemaking, then he had sold them for great sums to her competitors). She moved to a different city and changed her name to Spanakopita. Some believed it had been One-Eye. Just because. Others thought it was someone from his past. Kelsey had been baptised "Kevin Gary Snitchphlem" and it was discovered that he was Paulette's half-brother. Nobody really knew exactly where they had come from before appearing in the city ten years earlier.

Although it was known that there had been cause to believe that Kelsey's death was due to being bitten by the guinea pig (who, it had been discovered, had been fed a steady diet of the calabar bean by person or persons unknown, - - an ancient bean from which an ordeal poison had been extracted in days of yore - -) it was taken home by Nee to live in her garden. Jorge visited them often. It appeared that it was a female, so the name Cecily was given her, and she lived a long and happy life entertaining Nee's various cats. Jorge brought special food for her when he visited, and Nee enjoyed those meals also.

Cecily's Green Beans

..........................................

Saute chopped onion in olive oil. Add diced plum tomatoes, chopped green peppers

and celery. Cook till slightly soft with salt, pepper, bay leaf, tiny pinch of ground cloves, chopped parsley. Add blanched green beans, toss, cook to blend flavors.

All was well for the Glorious Shop, as with appetites sated the moon rose, books were closed, lights turned off, covers tousled and all to sleep.

Edited October 17, 2006 by Carrot Top (log)

[Carrot Top]

Sorry about that. I just felt a story coming on. It's out of my system now.

[EllenC]

Please don't be sorry. More. More. Tell us the one about how Dave met that cute little girl from France - Wasn't her name Marie? And then she left him because of his habit of eating fois gras over mince meat pies.

Any story Karen. Keep going.

[srhcb]

Since we've already broached the subject of eating guinea pigs, maybe a story about a guinea pig eating, in a fine hotel at that, would be considered topical?

SB

[Carrot Top]

And then she left him because of his habit of eating fois gras over mince meat pies. 

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I love this image.

But if I do not get to the grocery store tout suite (you know, the one where the take-out is lame ) my children will be eating Mother Hubbard's Bone for dinner. Metaphorically, anyway.

[Carrot Top]

Since we've already broached the subject of eating guinea pigs, maybe a story about a guinea pig eating, in a fine hotel at that, would be considered topical?

SB 

←

Such hubris shown on the part of the guinea pig, don't you think?

It would have to be a tale full of intrigue and manifest destiny.

Featuring vegan food.

[srhcb]

Since we've already broached the subject of eating guinea pigs, maybe a story about a guinea pig eating, in a fine hotel at that, would be considered topical?

SB 

←

Such hubris shown on the part of the guinea pig, don't you think?

The hubris in this story is confined to yours truely. The story's albino short-haired Cavia Porcellus, despite his fancy family name, was always a rather humble creature, and in this instance was literally "just along for the ride".

It would have to be a tale full of intrigue and manifest destiny.

It begins .... "It was a dark and stormy night when I pulled off the freeway in the stolen Mustang Fastback. Armed with a Colt 32 Police Special, and burdened with only a cardboard box enclosing an aquarium housing a Guinea Pig and three motley colored mice for luggage, I checked into the Hilton Hotel in Albuquerque, NM"

And ends with ".... So I ended up spending all day at the Albuquerque Airport, including three round trips to and from the hotel with the same cab driver, and never got aboard a plane!"

Featuring vegan food.

←

The Guinea Pig and mice got by quite well on vegan fare, (which I suspect the hotel wasn't even aware they offered, especially to rodents), while the adventure served as my introduction to Southwestern cuisine which maybe wouldn't stand up to the standards of Rick Bayless today, but was quite a surprise to a 22 year old kid from Nothern Minnesota.

SB (certain the Statute of Limitations has expired by now? )

Edited October 17, 2006 by srhcb (log)

[Carrot Top]

Armed with a Colt 32 Police Special, and burdened with only a cardboard box enclosing an aquarium housing a Guinea Pig and three motley colored mice

←

You and me both, bud. I always pack a pistol when carrying small rodents. One can never be too careful.

..........................................................

I've decided that my foodshop will have to carry tisanes. They will be available at all hours, made in gorgeous silver antique samovar thingies maybe. You can choose from four distinct varieties each day. I like some of the brews shown on this site. "Philosopher's Brew" is their best seller, and no small wonder with all the philosophers wandering around looking for a decent tisane nowadays.

I would add (have to create them somehow, must study Ayurveda and such) the "Exhausted Mother" brew; the "My Gun is Bigger Than Yours" brew; and the "Just a Little Loopy" brew.

[srhcb]

Armed with a Colt 32 Police Special, and burdened with only a cardboard box enclosing an aquarium housing a Guinea Pig and three motley colored mice

←

You and me both, bud. I always pack a pistol when carrying small rodents. One can never be too careful.

In my defense, let me state that I haven't "packed heat" for many years, and even then it was only for the purpose of returning fire. I never shot a rodent, except maybe some squirrels.

..........................................................

I've decided that my foodshop will have to carry tisanes. They will be available at all hours, made in gorgeous silver antique samovar thingies maybe. You can choose from four distinct varieties each day. I like some of the brews shown on this site. "Philosopher's Brew" is their best seller, and no small wonder with all the philosophers wandering around looking for a decent tisane nowadays.

←

I have to admit being predisposed to a distain for tisanes until a quick Google Search ellicited the information that they were the favorite beverage of the great Hercule Poirot.

They appear to be a good way to extract maximum value from material that woud otherwise be totally useless.

Still, I can't help but think it's a sad commentary upon our times that philosophers wander around "looking for a decent tisane", when over 2,000 years ago Diogenes of Sinope's, (aka Diogenes the Cynic), searched for an honest man.

SB (aka Steve the Cynic)

[racheld]

But perhaps Diogenes used that lantern to brew up a cuppa when he tired of the quest.

[srhcb]

But perhaps Diogenes used that lantern to brew up a cuppa when he tired of the quest.

←

Perhaps. But I'd be wary of drinks proffered by ancient Greek philosophers lest their tisane contain hemlock?

SB (you know what they say about Greeks bearing gifts)

[Carrot Top]

I have to admit being predisposed to a distain for tisanes until a quick Google Search ellicited the information that they were the favorite beverage of the great Hercule Poirot.

They appear to be a good way to extract maximum value from material that woud otherwise be totally useless.

Still, I can't help but think it's a sad commentary upon our times that philosophers wander around "looking for a decent tisane", when over 2,000 years ago Diogenes of Sinope's, (aka Diogenes the Cynic), searched for an honest man.

SB (aka Steve the Cynic)

←

Yes, Hercule used to urge them on his friend Hastings as being important in assisting "the little grey cells" to work properly. Hastings never quite took to tisanes, though. And his little grey cells continued to suffer.

The tisanes likely assisted Hercule in moustache maintenance, being full of good things that make one healthy. And of course the only other man I know with a moustache like Hercule's was Jim Quilleran but he probably drank his tisanes in secret.

Wasn't Diogenes that guy that used to walk around on Greek hills with a large staff to lean on (maybe that was his lantern pole?), a dirty robe, and a bunch of sheep to keep him company when he wasn't distributing philosophy? I'd be cynical too it that were my lot in life.

[Carrot Top]

Yesterday while (or "whilst" if we are going to be talking with Diogenes and his ilk)

walking through town, I realized that there was one more tisane (so much nicer sounding than "herb tea blend" don't cha think) that would have to be offered on a daily basis in this college town. The "Please help me my butt crack is showing over the top of my jeans" blend.

I am positive this would be a best-seller.

[srhcb]

Yesterday while (or "whilst" if we are going to be talking with Diogenes and his ilk)

walking through town, I realized that there was one more tisane (so much nicer sounding than "herb tea blend" don't cha think) that would have to be offered on a daily basis in this college town. The "Please help me my butt crack is showing over the top of my jeans" blend.

Tisane, (from the Greek ptisane, a barley tea no doubt savored by Diogenes and his ilk and staff), is not very well known in Nothern Minnesota. In fact, around here anyone seen drinking herbal tea, let alone tisanes, would immediately be pegged as an interloper from some place like Oregon or Massachusetts.

Besides lagging behind the times when it comes to fashionable drinks, people around here tend to be slow when it comes to adopting the latest clothing fads. "Butt Crack" is still the province of plumbers, and the bikers across the street. Neither group would seem to be a very good target market for tisanes?

I am positive this would be a best-seller.

←

Despite my acknowledged unfamiliarity with the tisane market, I have a hard time imagining this particular variety being all that popular. Perhaps it would be best served under its French name, the de fente de bout?

SB

[Carrot Top]

Oh well. Always trying to introduce new things to the market, you know, Steve.

It might be best if I stick to drinking Rachel's Fairy Tea. If she will put some in her shop.

This morning, at Glorious, I am planning on offering Studmuffins for breakfast.

Usually, it is true, Studmuffins are best eaten at home, but then again you never know how many people might have access to them or not. They do require a bit of cooking skill, but not very much.

Today will be a special promotion - all the Studmuffins you could ever want, for one low price. Today only, you understand. Tomorrow your Studmuffin will cost you, and cost you dearly!

There are several varieties. Oh! First of all, a Studmuffin is a muffin made in one of them there Texas-sized jumbo muffin tins. It must be a gorgeous sort of muffin to begin with, a muffin that gleams with perfection. It swaggers a bit, and must be watched to be sure it does not trip over itself and fall over sideways sometimes.

I prefer my Studmuffins made of stone-ground cornmeal, with bits of fresh corn, jalapenos, maybe a bit of cheese for attitude. Or sometimes banana-oat with walnut bits. Or in the right sort of mood, double chocolate chip.

It then has to be filled with things that make it full of itself, very full of itself. This is part of the charm of a Studmuffin. The cornmeal ones I like to eat filled with ham in cream gravy with bits of caramelized onion. The banana ones, sometimes a nutty fruit chutney, which gives that particular muffin a vacuous air that is more-than-slightly appealing. Double chocolate chip? Well. Fill it with cream, baby. Whipped.

Be sure that there is lots of filling if the Studmuffin is in your kitchen. You might have to pull out some of his crumb to do so, but it is absolutely worth it!

Who will join me in eating their very own Studmuffin for breakfast? I would love to hear more recipes, too!

[srhcb]

Stud Muffins?

SB (biting tongue )

[Carrot Top]

Yeah! I particularly like that Tub of Fifty.

Sigh. But that is a product for the countryside, and I no longer reside in the countryside. One can do so very much with a large hayfield and a pitchfork, though.

And now there are other things that could be said, but a line has just popped into my mind - some old saw about discretion and valor. I do love valor.

[racheld]

I pulled off the freeway in the stolen Mustang Fastback.  Armed with a Colt 32 Police Special, and burdened with only a cardboard box enclosing an aquarium housing a Guinea Pig and three motley colored mice for luggage, I checked into the Hilton Hotel in Albuquerque, NM"

The Guinea Pig and mice got by quite well on vegan fare, (which I suspect the hotel wasn't even aware they offered, especially to rodents),

←

Rodents, tisanes, packin’ heat and samovars---quite a scavenger hunt of subjects for one thread to encompass, though quite divergent ideas have steered many a topic off on tangents far removed from the original thought.

Guinea pigs and mice are lovely traveling companions---no need to stash their aquarium in a box, though our rats, PeePee I through VII did live quite long happy lives ensconced in a nice glass-walled home, living in aspen shavings, napping in a little silver-lined bag redolent of coffee beans, making little sojourns across the counter to the big wicker stand atop the throne in the guest bath. A handy Kleenex box served as day-residence at the “Lake House.”

When we traveled, the aquarium went into the back seat; the world in that shavings-lined home was business as usual. Food and treats went in, Peepee went out for a glimpse of the world flashing by. Only once did she escape, during a midnight drive through Virginia; a little white phantom appeared in the darkness between Chris’ feet in the front seat, and we put her gently back into her house. Only later did we realize how long she had been at large; she had nibbled great notches in the spine of my much-coveted Martha Stewart Wedding book. Glue---it’s a GOOOOOD thing.

When we stopped for the night, she went into a pretty birdcage, covered by a lovely silk scarf---I swept grandly into hotels which bowed me welcome, and which would have put me unceremoniously on the street had they known my cargo. A bite of muffin, a segment of breakfast orange---those served to nourish her, along with her accustomed rat kibble. One evening, we stopped for dinner at one of those buffet/salad bar places, and I saved her a scrap or two from my plate. I had just stashed two green beans in a paper napkin, and was licking the dressing from a cherry tomato, when I looked up into the faces of an elderly couple, staring in horrified fascination at this weird woman taking licked food home in a ratty-bag.

Tisanes---I’m for ‘em. Samovars---got one.

And Chris PACKS.

Edited October 22, 2006 by racheld (log)

[srhcb]

Guinea pigs and mice are lovely traveling companions---no need to stash their aquarium in a box .... When we stopped for the night, she went into a pretty birdcage, covered by a lovely silk scarf---I swept grandly into hotels which bowed me welcome, and which would have put me unceremoniously on the street had they known my cargo.

Rodents do indeed travel well. Accustomed to confinement, the where or how of travel matters little to them. The reason for my enclosing theie aquarium in a cardboard box was subterfugue. I figured the maids would ignore a covered cardboard box in the closet when they cleaned the the room.

A bite of muffin, a segment of breakfast orange---those served to nourish her, along with her accustomed rat kibble.  One evening, we stopped for dinner at one of those buffet/salad bar places, and I saved her a scrap or two from my plate.  I had just stashed two green beans in a paper napkin, and was licking the dressing from a cherry tomato, when I looked up into the faces of an elderly couple, staring in horrified fascination at this weird woman taking licked food home in a ratty-bag.

←

My Guinea Pig's regular diet was puffed corn breakfast cereal and the very green outer leaves of lettuce heads normally provided by friends who owned a restaurant. I was already supplied with a large economy sized bag of generic puffed corn, so it was simply a matter of ordering a large garden salad with no dressing from room service every night to complete the menu. (This being the Southwest, and neither the animals nor I having had much experience with hot, spicy fare, I was careful to pick out the peppers.) As a bonus, the mice had a nice selection of fancy crackers to nibble on.

SB (I suppose I should written Hilton a nice thank you letter complimenting them on the fine service! )

PS: I should add a caveat that while guinea pigs and mice are indeed good companions when traveling by car, they can cause problems when it comes to commercial airlines. My day spent running back and forth between the Hilton and Albequerque Airport without ever getting aboard a plane, (which could have been taken from a Marx Brother movie), was precipitated by my call the previous evening to book a flight to Los Angeles.

When I inquired whether the particular flight could take pets, I was assured it would, and asked if the pet was a dog. When I replied in the negative they guessed cat, and after another negative response from me the agent said, "Well, what is it?"

I answered, "A guinea pig." Considering discretion the better part of valor, I didn't bring up the mice. I was told that as long as the pet was in a suitable container it would be no trouble. While this didn't turn out to be the case, which wasn't entirely the fault of the rodents, I think, in retrospect, I should have lied and appropriated "a small dog" as my flying companion?

[Carrot Top]

We should request that the title of this thread be changed to "Guinea Pigs and Guns" maybe.

There is an absolutely wonderful personal essay/"creative nonfiction" (sic) in the current issue (#2) of Alimentum, by Lynn Levin with the title "How to Eat a Pet - A Gastronomic Adventure in the Andes" that is all about how she dined on our subject at hand, the humble Peruvian cuy whom she continues to think of at odd moments as Fluffy, the pet she had as a child.

Worthwhile reading.