redacted recipes

New Food Blogs Worth Watching

New Food Blogs appear daily, with many disappearing after just a few months. Sometimes it's a lack of ongoing interest and sometimes, when feedback is thin or nonexistent, it's because it's just too lonely out there. Here are a handful of new blogs worth watching, all less than 6 months old. Leave them some feedback, people!

Let's Eat! in Madrid reports her culinary adventures.

Blood Sugar shares a passion for food and photography from Lincolnshire and struggles with "the ravages of youth."

Altered Plates (love the name!) overcomes dietary restrictions (no beef, fowl, pork, game, chocolate, high glycemic sweeteners or sweeteners based on sugar alcohols) with great-looking recipes.

Hot Potato is self-described as "a twenty-two year old pescetarian-mostly-vegetarian homecook, aspiring lazy no-goodnik, and wannabe Anthony Bourdain. Only without the drug use, professional experience, or offal ingestion." Terrific readable narrative, too!

Green Olive Media reports various foodie events with beautifully composed photos.

The Great American Cooking Project is "a time-traveling year in the American kitchen. It’s a quest for our edible beginnings and our drinkable histories. It’s a tour of food that fuels, comforts, seduces, and impresses – and then goes the way of the sparkling gelatin salad."

Last but not least, all of the above are members of Serious Eats.

Items of Interest: Halloween, Banana Cake, Eye Candy and Pumpkin Brew

Once again AskMetafilter has the answers... this time for Halloween food that's yummy-tasting and disgusting-looking.

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eGullet dispenses advice for duplicating Sara Lee Banana Cake--a guilty pleasure I can't buy anymore.

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The mysterious 'J' provides eye candy and terrific commentary at Have Fork Will Travel.

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Brewing beer in a Pumpkin!

Tasting Note Transcriptions

We'd been saying we should do it for years, but somehow never got around to actually keeping tasting notes. After returning from our 2006 visit to California wine country, we organized the rather large number of bottles we'd shipped back and then resolved to document our responses as we worked through them and the wines we buy locally.

Our not too scientific method includes stars next to the ones we'd buy again, ranging from one to three. Here then are some of the must-buy-again highlights tasted last year:.

**Fritz 2003 Dry Creek Cabernet Sauvignon

Opened September, 2006: Our notes start off with the observation, "drank better than remembered!" I do recall the day we tasted and then bought the wine-- it was hot and Fritz was the last stop in a long day of multiple tastings. I think both of us were suffering from weary palates, as we simply did not remember the wine tasting so damned good. Our notes go on to say, "beautiful deep purple-red with a scent of plums, vanilla custard, allspice and spirits. Plummy and spicey in the mouth with a long dry finish."

**Dutch Henry 2001 Cabernet Sauvignon Reserve

Opened September, 2006: On this one our note begins with "Fan-fucking-tastic!" Again, we remembered really liking it in the tasting room, but did not remember being quite so impressed as we were two months later at our table. We also noted a "caramel nose, and the taste of sweat and old world." (Whatever that means!) We noted that it balances acidity with smoothness, was great with Jack's Chorizo and Goat's Cheese Pasta, and that we'd be sure to buy more.

**Barrel 27 2004 Appellation Paso Robles Syrah

First my considered memory and then the rather incoherent notes (hey, we were into a second bottle!): Jack picked this up on impulse, and it's a terrific bargain. It's a very dark purple with great legs. The nose is full of berries and plum, very aromatic. The taste is full of fruit, but also spicey.

Opened October, 2006: "Dark fruit and leather on the nose with a hint of spice and pepper. Taste is smooth, full-bodied blackberries and plums (Ann detects violets). Tiniest tingle on the tongue. Like the ghost of petillance."

Opened December, 2006: "Upon further reflection and drinking should add that this wine is suave and sophisticated but not shallow. Must buy more."

**Benziger 2003 Stone Farm Syrah

Opened November, 2006: "Leathery, spicey nose with notes of earthy fruit. First taste is smooth and soft and floods the mouth with leather and pepper, with the initial impression on the front of the tongue and an earthy aftertaste in the back of the throat. Makes my mouth get wet. Must. Buy. More."

*/**St. Francis 2003 Petite Syrah

*Opened November, 2006: "Needs to breath. Nose of spirits and alcohol with the barest hint of leather. Tastes of violets! Acidic tingle on the tongue. Medium body. Both  nose and mouth evolve as the wine breathes and becomes more complex and layered."

**Opened May 2007: "So much better this time around! Darker fruit and more pronounced leather. Less floral and much darker fruit. Long finish, still some tingle on the tongue. Bloody lovely!"

Savory Toasted Almonds

Several times a month one of us stops by the Bedford Cheese Shop on the way home. We love this place. When we're not sure what we want the staff will feed us slices until we've narrowed it down. Often they hand us samples to try just for the hell of it. Generally we pick three cheeses, grab some pate or black forest ham, cornichons, bread and then whatever else we think we'll want (sugar plums? black cherries in balsamic syrup?). I always check to see if they have the lemon ricotta cake on hand.

Back at the apartment we arrange our treats on a large board, select a bottle of wine, put some music on and dig in. I try make sure we have something a little sweet (chutney or slices of pear and apple) and something savory and salty to compliment the wine and cheeses.

Lately I've been toasting almonds with whatever fresh herbs I have on hand-- usually rosemary or thyme or sage. They're irresistable and try as I might to serve just a few at a time, I confess breaking into them at all hours.

Savory Toasted Almonds

1 tablespoon of fresh chopped savory herbs (rosemary or thyme are favorites)
1 teaspoon sea salt
1/4 teaspoon cayenne (or more, if you're feeling spicey)
2 teaspoons canola oil
2 cups whole almonds (unblanched are best, but I've been known to grab a container of blanched peeled almonds and it's fine)

Preheat the oven to 400F. In a large bowl combine the almonds and the canola oil, tossing with clean hands. Lightly coat a rimmed baking sheet with canola oil (I just use my hands after tossing the almonds and oil together).

Transfer the almonds to the baking sheet, spreading them evenly across the surface and place the sheet into the oven. Toast them for about 8 minutes, until they are lightly browned. Shake the pan a couple of times to keep them from scorching.

While the almonds are toasting combine the rest of the ingredients in a large shallow bowl. Remove the toasted almonds from the oven and add them to the seasoning mixture, stirring to coat them thoroughly. Taste and adjust seasonings.

Serve warm or at room temperature. In theory the almonds can be stored in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 2 weeks. They never last that long in my house. 

Slow Cookers and Other Delusions

I go back and forth on slow cookers (or crockpots, if you must). A few years ago I bought one because I'd gotten it into my head that it would allow me to effortlessly create fabulous savory meals, save me oodles of time and keep my unairconditioned kitchen cool in the summer. I scoured the web for recipes, I bought Not Your Mother's Slow Cooker Cookbook, and eagerly perused Secrets of Slow Cooking, given to me by my mother for Christmas.

I was seduced by the hype, I admit it. We've all had some version of the "dump recipe" that saves time and effort by letting you put everything directly into the cooker, relying on cans of soup to add body and flavor to various types of meat. They're terrible. I knew that. But I bought the hype anyway and hoped some new amazing method had been discovered. Quite frankly this was a lot like opening the refrigerator every hour on the hour in the hope that something yummy has magically transported itself to one of the shelves. Dumb, but you do it anyway. Consequently I needed some time to regain my kitchen sanity. If I were in charge of the world I'd mandate the following warning label: If your expectation is that you'll simply toss ingredients into the pot in the morning and end up with great food in the evening you will be sorely disappointed.

Slow cooker recipes that result in good food require exactly the sort of up-front prep you'd expect of any decent recipe regardless of cooking method. Feeling resentful over the hour spent sauteing onions and browning batches of meat before getting anywhere near the slow cooker is just silly. A slow cooker is merely an alternative cooking appliance-- one that lets me walk away from it, which I can't do when I'm simmering stew on the stovetop.

While I'm complaining, I'll add that I have mixed feelings about slow cooker recipes, too. I find it irritating that the convention is to write out the cooking setting in all caps. "Cook on HIGH for 6 hours." Why? You don't see this for other cooking methods. You never see directions to "simmer over a LOW/MED flame." Is it received wisdom that slow cooker cooks are a little slow?

All this said, the slow cooker has definitely found a place in my kitchen. In addition to the expected stews and soups, it has kept Christmas party Glögg warm and when my sister and I hosted a 50th wedding anniversary bash for our parents earlier this year we had two slow cookers keeping ten pounds of chinese meatballs warm and ready for the chafing dish. Other favorite uses include Lora Brody's (Slow Cooker Cooking) method for caramelizing garlic-- you can work with as many heads of garlic as will fit in the bottom of your slow cooker or with just one or two. Caramelizing onions is ridiculously easy. Making stock and broth works very well, too, as the lowered evaporation rate results in rich, concentrated flavors. Last but not least, a dish that really lends itself beautifully to the moist even heat of the slow cooker, is bread pudding.

Caramelized Garlic

Prep the heads of garlic by cutting off the top of the bulb, exposing just the tops of the cloves. Place the garlic, cut side up, in the bottom of the slow cooker and pour in olive oil to about one third of the way up the sides of the garlic bulbs. Cover and cook on HIGH for 4 to 6 hours, or until the garlic is very soft when pierced with the point of a sharp knife. Cool the garlic bulb in the oil. Place the whole bulb in the center of a rimmed plate and pour some of the garlic oil around it. Serve with crusty bread. The oil can be kept tightly covered in the refrigerator for a month.

Caramelized Onions

I make a large amount (8 to 10 onions) at a time, either for French Onion Soup or to freeze in small batches and then use later in pastas or on pizza. Peel the onions, slice them thickly and toss with olive oil. Cook on low until they've browned. This will take most of a day, so be patient.

Fresh Raspberry Bread Pudding
from Not Your Mother's Slow Cooker Cookbook
serves 6 - 8

This works best in the type of slow-cooker that is wider than it is tall.

5 - 6 cups cubed stale french bread (crusts off)
1/2 pint fresh rapsberries (you can cheat and use frozen)
2 cups cream
2 cups milk
1 1/4 cup sugar
6 eggs
1 tablespoon vanilla

Coat the slow cooker with butter-flavored non-stick spray and layer in half of the bread cubes and sprinkle with half of the berries. Repeat.

In a large bowl whisk together the rest of the ingredients until smooth. Pour over the bread and berries and gently push down on the bread to make sure it's all moistened.

Cover and cook on high until it's puffed and a knife comes out (relatively) clean-- about 2 1/2 hours.

Remove lid and let cook another 15 minutes.

Cover, turn off the cooker, and let it set for about 30 minutes.

Serve warm with whipped cream and more berries, if desired.

It's Grim Up North...

... for those of you following Jack's adventures with British cuisine and wondering just how grim it really is up there, check out this classic Harry Enfield piss-take.

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Picture postcard of Freeman Street, Grimsby (early 70s) from the Tappen Family

Bad Teeth and Lousy Food: Life Support

I was popular at school, but only for ten minutes every day. That was the ten minutes between the start of dinner hour and my arrival at the head of the school dinner line. During that period I suddenly acquired friends. Lots of friends: other kids in my class who never normally spoke to me; even the occasional kid out of an entirely different class. They all wanted to be my pals. They'd hurry and hustle to get in line next to me as we waited to be served whatever eldritch slurry and overcooked clots of grey gristle the school kitchen staff were attempting to pass off as nutrition for our skinny, prepubescent British bodies. And we really were all skinny in those days. There was no obesity epidemic in the north of England in the seventies, dear me no. Well, we did have one "fat kid": an unfortunate games-ducking asthmatic who would forever be the sole butt of all the lardarse jokes, but when I look now at my 1973 class photograph I see that this kid would probably pass as "stocky" or "hefty" today, rather than fat. The rest of us were pretty scrawny, and no wonder, given the standard of British food in those days. And school dinners were bad even by that distressingly low standard.

Nevertheless, most of my aforementioned temporary chums were typically ravenous little beasts who just wanted to scarf as much of the lukewarm, coagulating glop into their snaggle-toothed, brace-free gobs as they could. Not me. I disliked food generally, but especially the rank swill we were expected to consume at school. So I gave mine away. All of it.  Every day. And every day the vultures would descend, bicker and grab.

"Jack! Get the spam fritters! Get two! I'll have one and Bonesy can have the other!"

"Bollocks, Wilson, you had his fritters last week. It's my turn. You have the potatoes!"

"Okay, but I'm having his semolina, then!"

"You can have half of it, you greedy sod!"

They clearly loved me for myself. I didn't mind. I found it rather cute. It reminded me of one of my rare childhood holidays: a trip to London, and fond memories of standing in Trafalgar Square, holding out a handful of grain and suddenly being assailed by greedy, threadbare pigeons. I've liked pigeons ever since, and I liked these lunchtime fare-weather friends of mine, too. Sometimes the illusion of popularity is enough.

Williamsburg Restaurants: The Early Days

Ten years ago when I was planning to move to New York a friend asked me if I wanted to take over the lease on her Brooklyn apartment. I accepted before ever seeing the place and and arranged a weekend visit to sign the lease.

The apartment was located on Metropolitan Ave in Williamsburg between Havemeyer and Marcy. The building had no buzzers and the hallway and stairs were dark and dirty, but the apartment was full of light. It was a four room railroad-- no hallway, just the rooms all in a row, consisting of a large kitchen with windows at one end and leading through two smaller windowless rooms in the middle and then a large living room with twin windows and a view of the Empire State Building at the other end. All of the rooms had glass french doors and transoms, allowing the light to the middle rooms; and even better, all of the original architectural details were in place: pressed tin ceilings, ornate mouldings, a (closed up) fireplace and mantle in the living room, and hardwood floors. I loved it.

In 1997 Williamsburg was still edgy and raw and the hipsterization, well underway, was mainly confined to Bedford Ave. between N. 5th and N. 10th. You tended to see the same faces over and over again when you went out to eat-- not surprising given the finite number of restaurants and bars.

For places to eat you could count the options on both hands. There was the venerable L Cafe (now closed), where you could sit forever drinking coffee (refills were free and endless), and which was the place of choice for brunch. Like many of my friends, I had a love-hate relationship with the L, as the service could be spectacularly bad and the food was merely unobjectionable, and yet... it was always there and I always ended up going back. There was Oznot's Dish (also closed now) on Berry and N. 10th, which was quite good for a while there-- they had a kick-ass Lamb Burger with charmoula. There was Mug's Ale House on Bedford and N. 9th for a burger and a beer; Teddy's on Berry and N. 10th for the same; Vera Cruz on Bedford and N. 6th for uninspired Mexican; Bean (closed) on N. 8th for okay Mexican; Kaisa for pierogi and potato pancakes; and Planet Thailand (still called Plan-Eat Thailand in a small storefront on Bedford back in those days). There was Peter Luger, of course, but it wasn't on my radar in 1997 because I couldn't afford it. That was about it, unless you included Kellogg's Diner, which nobody in their right mind did or does.

Recent Items of Interest

Ask MetaFilter's hive mind describes the best spinach salad recipes and techniques.

eGullet explores the use of alcohol in pie crust. I was tempted to try this for the last Sugar High Friday challenge (apples and alcohol), but had already embarked on a drunken version of apple cake.

Cathy lives in NYC and occupys her time by... well, by Not Eating Out in New York.

Une femme d'un certain age ruminates on candy corn and pumpkins.

La Tartine Gourmande publishes in the Boston Globe.

Apples and Thyme: Grandma's Comfort Food

  This post is part of the blogging event Apples and Thyme, hosted by Vanielje's Kitchen. It's a celebration of time spent with our mothers and grandmothers. My grandmother lived on a working ranch most of her life and grew nearly everything she cooked. Her garden was a year-round venture (California is nice that way), and her freezer was full of the beef she and my grandfather raised.

My sister, Lisa, and I spent a lot of time on the ranch as children-- long lovely days with exactly the same routine. In the mornings we were wakened early by my grandfather, who had already been out on horseback to check on the cattle and open or close the many irrigation ditches. Grandma would serve us a breakfast of whatever fruit was in season (I remember the strawberries and raspberries with cream most fondly) or her "Crêpes Suzette " which were really just very thin pancakes rolled around strawberry preserves and dusted with confectioners' sugar. Grandpa would urge us to finish up so we could go and collect the horses for a morning ride.

Lisa and I were given our first horse when I was eight and she was six... a Shetland pony named Cricket. Cricket wasn't the nicest pony, frankly--she had a habit of trying to scrap her rider off of her back by bolting to low-hanging tree branches. Consequently, Lisa mostly rode behind Grandpa while I rode Cricket, struggling not to let on that I considered the daily ride a grim struggle of will. But I loved those morning rides in spite of the fear of being scraped off or regular detours through a field of shoulder-high thistles. My favorite moments with Cricket were after our ride, when she was tired, and I'd offer her a bucket of oats after unsaddling and brushing her down. I rather liked the taste of the oats myself, and would often take a handful to munch on.

Lunch (or supper, as they called it) was the main meal of the day and Grandma spent the morning getting it ready for us. We nearly always had Black Angus beef in some form, accompanied by produce from the garden. My absolute favorite was a dish of tiny baby carrots in a delicate cream sauce. I also loved Grandma's way of cooking green beans-- with bacon fat until they were deep olive green and falling apart.

Grandma really pulled out all the stops for holiday meals, Thanksgiving and Christmas in particular. In addition to the usual turkey, stuffing and mashed potatoes, she served her watermelon pickles tasting of cloves and vinegar; hot fluffy biscuits, a souffle-like casserole of corn and pimentos, and a creamed onions dish I am still passionate about.

Then there were her cakes... like many of her generation she moved easily between scratch recipes and the convenience of Duncan Hines. The two I remember best and make for myself and company alike are Elvetta's Prune Cake, a dense, moist and spicey multi-layered scratch cake with mocha frosting; and Heaven and Hell Cake, made from a box of golden cake mix with homemade fudge frosting. Being a lady who seldom swore, she always giggled a little when she spoke of Heaven and Hell Cake, and she always hastened to explain the name. "It tastes like heaven but it looks like hell!"

Here are her recipes: