So, apparently baby carrots went and got all cool on us when we weren’t looking. You know, those little shaved-down nubbins of carrot (you didn’t think they actually grew that way) that are the perfect size for dipping into some ranch. Or blue cheese dressing. Or clam dip.
Word is that the baby carrot growers are shelling out $25 million to make this sweet and crunchy little vegetable your teen’s new best friend – instead of that bag of Doritos.
A flood of quirky ads, an iPhone game, a high-energy website and carrot vending machines are among the roll-out, pitching folks to eat ’em like junk food. Cha, right.
But really, you gotta applaud the effort, because for all the billions and billions shelled out by the processed food industry, this is a considerable venture by the produce industry to market (shocker) healthy food. Behind the campaign are a number of large-scale carrot growers led by Bolthouse Farms, of California.
Of course, nothing’s perfect: There’s plenty of controversy about the processing and complete nutrition of these “babies”, but in the end, we all have to admit that eating a carrot of any stripe is probably better than eating a bag of cheese puffs.
Do you buy it? Is it a good idea to try and repackage something healthy to look like something naughty? Do you think it will work? Sound off.
OktoberFest: Where to go in Wine Country
Prost! As millions conclude their annual Oktoberfest revelries in Munich, Germany (Sept. 18-October 4), Wine Country’s beer-centric affairs are just getting started. So grab your steins, oompa-attitude and Das Boots and head for sudsy events around the county…
BITECLUB PICK
Barley and Hops: Third Annual Oktoberfest (October 1-3, 2010)
The beer-friendliest pub Sebastopol and Bodega Bay, Barley and Hops, goes all-Bavarian for three days during their Third Annual Oktoberfest Friday, Saturday and Sunday. They’ll be bringing in special Oktoberfest beer served in traditional liter steins, serving up authentic Bavarian eats and decking out the entire staff in lederhosen and dirndls — which you can see from the picture is worth the trip alone. Owner Noah Bolmer, who owns the bar with wife Mirjam, is a beer aficionado who walks the walk 365 days a year, so he can show you the ropes when it comes to Weizens and Marzens. Looking for a boot to sip from? This year they’ve brought in glass cowboy boots to guzzle your wiezen. 3688 Bohemian Hwy, Occidental, 874-9037
Harvest Brew Tasting @ The Harvest Fair (Oct. 2) : Wine Country’s more than just wine. Microbrew tasting from 1-5pm at the Village on Saturday only. $15 for a souvenir glass and four taste tickets. Additional tastes $3. Sonoma County Fairgrounds, 21+ only.
Big Oktoberfest Bash (BOB), Oct. 8: Lagunitas, Russian River Brewery, Third Street Aleworks, Ace Cider and several other breweries and wineries will be pouring at the Sonoma County Museum’s annual bash from 5-9pm, October 8. The event includes tastings, live bluegrass music, food, beer-making demos and more. Flamingo Resort and Hotel, 2777 Fourth St., Santa Rosa. $40 per person. 579-1500, 21 and over.
Oktoberfest Petaluma (Oct. 16): This family-friendly event sponsored by the Rotary Club features Lagunitas beer, polka dancing, costumes and food. 4-10pm, Petaluma Community Center, 320 North McDowell Blvd, Petaluma. Adults $12, kids $6. Ticket info at petalumavalleyrotary.org/ok.
Cotati Oktoberfest (Oct. 9): Get out your lederhosen and practice your yodeling for the upcoming Cotati Oktoberfest. Wunderbar German food and beer, plus the oom-pah-pah of Karl Lebherz and his Bavarian band. Activities include; Wiener Dog Race, Tankard Hold, Beer Stein Carry, Best Adult & Youth Costume. Tickets include dinner, a stein and a glass of beer, wine, or root beer (for kids and designated drivers). Adults, $25, kids 12 and under, $10. 12pm to 6pm at La Plaza Park, Downtown Cotati at the corner of Old Redwood Hwy and West Sierra Avenue under the giant tent. Details: Cotati Chamber of Commerce at (707) 795-5508 or email chamber@cotati.org.
Oktoberfest in Cloverdale (Oct. 9): Cloverdale’s Annual Oktoberfest celebration in the Downtown Plaza includes German food, wine and beer tasting, live music, silent auctions, raffles, street vendors, children’s activities, and more. 3-8pm, Downtown Cloverdale Plaza and Museum. $15 in advance for a meal. 894-2039.
Biketober Fest Marin (Oct. 16)
Cylocross and beer tasting from more than 20 West Coast brewers. Fair Anselm Plaza, 765 Center Blvd., Fairfax. Beer tasting $25. biketoberfestmarin.com
Oktoberfest Wine Country Lunch at Schug Winery (Oct. 17)
A Harvest Celebration wine country style inspired by Walter Schug’s home region of the Rheingau. Enjoy Federweisser (fermenting white wine from the barrel)& Zweibelkuchen (savory onion cake) along with traditional German fare and live Polka music! 11am to 4pm. Advance reservations required. $25/person, 602 Bonneau Road, Sonoma, 939.9363 x207.
Adventures in Brewing Tasting & Pairing (Oct. 20)
Scattered across the globe, there exists a small cadre of revolutionaries dedicated to liberating civilization from the clutches of boring beer. They operate independently but share a common goal; to produce the finest beers imaginable. Share their history and adventure of brewing – and your opportunity to taste it! Whole Foods Coddingtown (which also features the new Tap Room pub onsite with 16 beers on tap). Don’t miss: Fresh Pretzels with Sweet Mustard: Not too hard. Not too soft, but just right. Big beefy pretzels made on-site daily. Coddingtown Mall, Santa Rosa. Pre-registration required for the Oct. 20 event: email coddingtowninfo@wholefoods.com
Restaurant and Brewpub Scene…
Cafe Europe: Through October 24, Cafe Europe is celebrating Oktoberfest with imported Munich’s Octoberfest Spaten, live music on Friday and Saturday evening, Monthly menu specialties include Munich Weiswurst and Bavarian sausage. 104 Calistoga Road, Santa Rosa, 538-5255.
Lokal: Sonoma’s new Euro-style pub honors Oktoberfest with a “happy hour” from 4–6 everyday and a Beer Stein challenge every night where guests can win a 1 liter SPATEN stein. On the menu: $5 Beer & German Dog, $8 Brat W/ Salad & Kraut, $4 Happy Fries. Plus: $5 ½ Liters and $10 One Liter Steins. 522 Broadway, Sonoma, 938-7373. Through October 24.
Bear Republic Brewing Co.: The Healdsburg brewery will release their Oktoberfest beer, a late-harvest lager and serving up several German beers (including a Sticke Alt) starting Oct. 2. 345 Healdsburg Avenue, Healdsburg, 433-BEER.
Third Street Aleworks: Releasing their Marzen-style beer (with just a hint of sweetness) will be released in mid-October, just in time for their Oct. 16 “Meet the Brewmaster” dinner ($40, limited seating, reservations required). A little lower-brow is their weekly Best of the Wurst, an all-day sausage fest featuring hot dogs, Polish sausage, bratwurst, knockwurst and sausages on a hoagie roll for just $5.50. 610 Third St. Santa Rosa, 523-3060.
Yanni’s Sausage Grill: Okay, so they’re more Greek than German, but a sausage translates in any language. This bare bones walk-up eatery takes its sausage seriously. On the menu, eight flavors of sausage — from Loukaniko, a rustic Greek sausage with citrus and spice; garlic mint, sweet and hot Italian, chicken limoncello; Olympic Flame (extra hot made with brandy); greek kalamata olive and feta; and lamb sausage served with tzatziki. All are under $6, most under $5. Buy a couple because you’ll likely want another after scarfing down the first. They’ll burn your tongue and scorch your fingers, but slowing down to savor these dogs just ain’t an option. 10007 Main St., Penngrove, 795-7088.
Got an Oktoberfest-inspired event or eatery you want to share? Shout out!
Seeking Mac-n-Cheese Perfection: The Ground Rules
OK, it’s Monday, enough of the booze chatter. We promised to engage in the pursuit of mac-n-cheese perfection, and here in the Proximal Kitchen, we don’t take such promises lightly.
If you caught my previous post on mac-n-cheese, despair not yet another sermon from the culinary pulpit, because today’s post – our introductory foray into the mac-n-cheese sweepstakes – is all business. I have little doubt that my previous wax-on, wax-off meanderings will return to this thread; but not today. This post will run longer than I (or you) would prefer, but that’s only because I have to set the Ground Rules, and I still owe you a recipe.
As a one-time career student, I usually start any new research project with a review of the literature, so I’ve been reading up on mac-n-cheese. The Internet produces information overload: Lots of great-sounding recipes, a vastly larger number of suspect ones, and all sorts of claims and factoids, both interesting and banal, about the history of this profoundly American dish (who knew that Thomas Jefferson loved to serve a baked macaroni and cheese?). Fortunately, Emily Weinstein, writing for the New York Times, has done much of the work for me, and I highly recommend her article, as well as the recipes referenced therein, many of which helped define my jumping-off point.
My first realization: I will need to focus and compartmentalize this project. I am not going to try every conceivable variation; nor do I think I have to, because I have a pretty good idea about what I want the final result to be, and it doesn’t include broccoli, brie, or chemically engineered low fat substitutions. Thus, after trudging through the requisite forest of recipes, commentary, and philosophical rants concerned with such things, and superimposing my own mental palate, I’ve delineated my take on the critical underlying choice variables:
- Unadorned or Dressed Up: You can make a compelling case for mixing in diced ham or broccoli, for a crispy shallot topping, for any number of additions that raise the apparent sophistication of the dish. I don’t object to any of them, so long as they serve a purpose. But none of them are essential, and that is what I’m after: Howsoever wonderful bacon may be, the soul of mac-n-cheese does not depend on it, and neither will our recipes. (I’m undecided on breadcrumbs; my intuition says “no”, but I’m kind of a sucker for crumbly toppings, so I’m reserving the right to try it.)
- Sauce or Just Cheese: Most of the classic recipes start with some version of a bechamel sauce, and then build a cheese sauce from there – essentially, a variation on the classic Mornay. But not everyone agrees; there are those who would argue that flour has no place in a true mac-n-cheese, and that cheese alone should suffice to bind the pasta. Like the question of adornment, I don’t need to cook to answer this one: I will never get the texture and depth of flavor I want – both crusty, gooey, and creamy all at the same time, with layers and layers of flavor permeating into the noodles – without some sort of a mother sauce in which to embed background flavors, to mix and bind the cheeses, and to fill in the the spaces between the layers of pasta. Thus, all of our recipes will start with a basic white sauce based on the classic bechamel.
- Cheddar vs Other Cheeses: Most of the recipes I read, and particularly those of the more “classic” variety, depend heavily, if not entirely, on cheddar cheese. I’m unconvinced, and this is where I expect to invest the most time, because, quite obviously, the dish will ultimately fail without the right mixture of cheeses. Furthermore, when I think about the classic cheese sauces, typically some variation on Mornay, I tend to think of Swiss, Alsatian, and Italian cheeses, more than I do cheddar (both Larousse and Michel Roux, in his essential Sauces, agree). Cheddar also presents some textural challenges, as I find that it has a proclivity for breaking (the fats separate during cooking) and turning grainy. For all these reasons, I’m going to try Swiss- , Italian-, and Cheddar-styled cheeses before taking my final stand.
- Choice of Pasta: It may seem oxymoronic to debate the shape of pasta for a dish that is named after one particular shape, but in fact the Italian root – maccherone – is used to refer to most any tube-shaped pasta cut into short, regular lengths. The more important feature, it seems to me, is how particular shapes hold the sauce and whether they maintain their integrity during the second cooking (baking in the sauce after boiling). Also important is how a particular shape sets up because – no disrespect to the oozing-pile approach – I’d prefer to serve a structurally coherent slice of the final product without it spilling all over the plate.
A quick inventory of the cheese drawer yields some aged Provolone, a chunk of Parmigiano Reggiano, but no real cheddar or Swissy-type stuff. The pasta shelf has a few options, most of them (spaghetti, capellini, and a variation on the corkscrew the kids are fond of) inappropriate to the task at hand. I spy some ziti regate, an over-sized, grooved version of penne, which sounds like a good test-case of a larger, straighter tube than th elbow-macaroni benchmark, and also strikes me as fine in its own right. As regular followers already know, I depend heavily on leftovers (indeed, I take the creative and productive use of what is already sitting around to be a badge of honor – it saves time and money, it reduces waste, and it forces me to think like a cook), and thus my first attempt at mac-n-cheese is born of a Provolone-based white sauce over some big, fat pasta tubes.
Mac-n-Cheese, v1.0
This recipe is sized for the pie dish I wanted to bake it in and will generally be “small”, so size it up for larger casseroles.
- Cook the pasta: Boil about a 1/2 lb of dried, large-ish tubular pasta, preferably grooved to help grab on to the sauce, such as ziti or rigatoni, in a large pot of salted water (I tend to cook a little extra and then adjust the final quantity of pasta to match the final volume of sauce). Cook only until just barely al dente – the pasta will continue to cook in the oven, and you don’t want it turning to mush. In practice, assuming you are using an Italian boxed pasta that has been packaged for American distribution, this will generally mean you want to pull it off the burner about a minute before the low end of the recommended range (and certainly no later than said lower end). While you’re at it, pre-heat the oven to 350F.
- While the pasta is boiling, start the sauce: Make 1/4 cup of blonde roux by cooking 3 tablespoons of flour in 3 tablespoons of butter over medium-low heat. You want to cook the flour, but whisk it around and watch the heat so as not to let it color. Scald 2 cups of whole milk or even cream (although, honestly, I used 2% and it still came out fine) add it slowly to the roux, whisking constantly to avoid lumps (if it gets lumpy, your milk was likely not hot enough, or you added it too quickly; you can always strain it out if that happens). You have what is now a bechamel sauce, but you need to season it – add a pinch of freshly grated nutmeg (maybe 1/8th of a teaspoon – not too much), white pepper (black pepper will screw up the color – this isn’t sausage gravy, it’s a white mac-n-cheese), and salt. Don’t skimp on the salt; it’s important to season each layer of the dish, or the final result will be under-seasoned and bland. Bring to a gentle boil and cook until the sauce thickens up and you no longer taste a raw, floury taste. Don’t forget to take the pasta off the heat and drain it while this is going on!
- Stir in the cheeses, starting with about a half-pound of shredded, aged Provolone (slices will melt OK as well). I would not use Mozzarella (not the right texture for melting, or flavor profile, really), but a 50/50 blend of Provolone and Fontina would probably work very well. Once the Provolone has melted completely and the sauce is hot, turn off the heat and stir in most of a gently packed cup of finely grated Parmigiano Reggiano, either by itself or mixed with a little Pecorino Romano for extra bite; reserve a small handful. Check the final sauce for seasoning and adjust, if necessary.
- Combine the pasta and the cheese sauce: Transfer most of the pasta back to the pot from which it came, or to a large mixing bowl (glass better than metal, because everything will still be quite hot), pour most of the sauce over the pasta, and gently fold them together to avoid damaging the pasta. Reserve a small amount of pasta and sauce so that you can adjust the quantities, if necessary. Make sure to distribute the sauce uniformly in order to coat all the noodles. The stuff should look like almost as much sauce as pasta, with every noodle heavily coated in a thick slathering of the sauce.
- Bake the pasta: Gently fill a small, buttered casserole dish, pie plate, or earthenware crock, pouring the pasta and sauce down in layers; delicately compress the pasta as you go in order to ensure it is basically solid and of a uniform density throughout. Pour any remaining sauce over the top and then sprinkle with the reserved cheeses and dot with butter. Transfer to the bottom rack of a 350-degree (F) oven for about 20 minutes; it will be done when the top and sides are bubbling and just starting to brown. Turn the oven to broil – this will brown the top and create a bubbly, cheesy crust. But watch it carefully, now is not the time to do anything else! (I never, not ever, turn the broiler on without setting a timer for a minute or two.)
- Let it set: Do not attempt to taste or serve for at least 10 minutes – 15-20 is probably better (I’m assuming your kitchen is pretty warm; if not, adjust accordingly). Like any baked pasta, you need to give it time to cool and bind up with some structural integrity; it will also save you and your family from a blistering case of pizza-mouth. Alternatively, if you’re worried about the top getting cold, or timing it for service, remove it from the oven when it’s done, but before broiling it, let it set, and then return to the broiler just before you’re ready to serve it.
My family had the version pictured above for dinner, and found it very satisfying, an overall solid effort. If I’m splitting hairs – and, in the pursuit of cheesy perfection, one must always split hairs – it was a little too sharp for the kids, but I knew going in that this would be a more adult version (the same basic recipe with some mild Fontina, for instance, would be more kid-friendly, and I suspect have a superior texture to boot).
As we’re only beta-testing, I’ll definitely change some things next time:
- I’m not sure the large pasta shape was ideal; next time, I’ll either use a smaller shape like penne, or the classic elbow macaroni.
- The cheeses had great flavor, but were a little one-dimensional, so I’m going to move into the Swissy or Cheddary families next, although I can definitely envision a cheese blend including some of what was used here (particularly the final sprinkling of Parmigiano). Also, the texture was good, but not perfect – the final sauce, out of the oven, would ideally be a bit smoother and more consistent.
- I think I would raise the proportion of cheese in the sauce in order to make it slightly less like a cream sauce and slightly more chew in texture.
In short, this is very much worth making, but stay tuned for future upgrades.
Fighting Scurvy, One Gimlet at a Time
I’m not a big drinker of cocktails in general, and I’m even less of a drinker of gin. That being said, cocktails clearly have their place: Less so with food, and more before – or after, or occasionally instead of; as an alternative to beer, when the weather or environs don’t seem conducive to wine; and certainly, as a welcome to guests who have just endured the Bay Area’s northbound assault on wine country on the first Saturday in August, a category which counted my wife’s brother and his family as victims a month or so ago. Gin, for its part, is still rarely my favorite, but I’m being slowly won over by two things: First, I’ve had some exceptional gin cocktails, most recently a crisp, refreshing, and generally excellent Cucumber Collins, with just the right balance of aromatic gin, citrus, sweetness and acidity, at the new SpoonBar here in town – in point of fact, the Cuke Collins was so good, I skipped the other 8 pages of the bar menu and ordered another straightaway; second, gin does exceptional things with lime juice and, as a rule, I can’t get enough limes in my cocktails. I cannot tell a lie, I do in fact have lime trees in the yard.
Thus, with guests on the road, the fog burning off, and a small vat of lavender simple syrup in the fridge, I tooled around with the idea of a lavender-infused Gimlet. If you like odd factoids from history, spend a few minutes reading about the history of the Gimlet at the Thinking of Drinking blog. For our purposes, the salient facts are that (a) the Gimlet, named eponymously for a British naval surgeon in the 1860s, Dr. Gimlette, was invented as a means to get sailors in the Royal Navy to ingest their ration of lime juice, and thereby to prevent scurvy; (b) the historical use of the Rose’s Lime Cordial dates to the same period, when Lauchlan Rose invented Rose’s Lime as a means of preserving the citrus juice for long journeys without the use of alcohol. (One can infer the history of the derogative “Limey” easily enough from there.) You have to love the British sense of irony: Mr. Rose patents a means of preserving lime juice for sailors without the use of alcohol, and a Royal Naval surgeon simultaneously invents a cocktail with which to get sailors to drink it.
Long and sundry is the list of arguments and citations to the effect that a Gimlet must contain Rose’s, but I can’t agree, and I think the argument stops here: The modern-day Rose’s is no longer the same stuff as it was in 1867 (it now includes natural flavors other than lime, artificial preservatives, and – in the US, where I would buy mine – high fructose corn syrup in lieu of sugar). The other thing about Rose’s is, well, it’s kind of disgusting, a bit like the liquid that squirts out of those ill-considered gums and candies my middle daughter is so inconceivably enamored of.
Since Rose’s is basically just sweetened lime juice with preservatives, and since I’m not subject to the uncertainties of 19th century refrigeration technology, I figured, how hard can it be to make a proper lime cordial from fresh lime juice? Equal parts lavender simple syrup and freshly squeezed lime juice (which I passed through a strainer for seeds and pulp), and voila, a fresh, homemade, lavender-infused lime cordial. Mix with an equal part of your favorite gin or vodka for a Gimlet, or add soda water and serve over ice for a quasi-Rickey, and garnish with sprigs of mint, fresh lavender, a lime peel, and a straw, if it’s watered down and over ice. Whichever way go, the perfume of the lavender really plays off of herbal aromatics of the gin, and the limes speak for themselves; you just can’t go wrong.
Lavender Gimlet
- Mix about a quarter-cup of equal parts fresh-squeezed limed juice and chilled lavender simple syrup with your favorite gin. I like Sapphire, as I find it less assertive than some gins, so if you like a more pronounced herbaciousness, try something like Junipero. (Gin, more than most liquors, varies greatly in style from brand to brand, so it really comes down to personal preference.)
- For a straight up Gimlet, shake over ice and strain into martini glass or tumbler.
- Or, add 1/2 to 1 cup of water – plain or sparkling (the latter making something like a Ricky) – and serve over ice in a high ball glass or, as I’ve done here, with the cut up limes in a mason jar. This version is highly recommended for a warm weekend afternoon, and would be well-suited to a by-the-pitcher version. I also made a version of the watered-down, over-ice and cut-limes version with Hanger 1 vodka – maybe not quite as interesting or complex as the gin version, but an outstanding cocktail in its own right.
Kampai. Drink copiously when possible, and always responsibly.
What’s Wrong With ‘Man v. Food’ (Redux)
I have a pretty strict rule of approving every comment but responding to none, no matter how profound and insightful or vacuous and petty they may be. It isn’t always pleasant, but it is fair, which might be the most one can hope for in the blogosphere. It is also how I’ve managed, pending this post, the acrimonious chatter suffusing the comment box for my latest missive. Some bloggers thrive on lowbrow, anonymously angry debate, and I suppose that’s their prerogative – another de facto truism of blogland – but that’s not me. I’m not here to argue with you; I’m not here to insult you; I am simply here to share with you – with the benefit of a career spent reading and sifting through data, a few hot pans and some really sharp knives, and no small amount of reflection – whatever small thing that I think I may have learned about the world, through the lens of my kitchen. You may love it, hate it, or simply relegate it to the dustbin of uninteresting bookmarks, but all I ask is that it gets read.
Having said that, every so often the level of discourse gets so pervasively toxic, and with such little substance, that I feel compelled to drag it some small distance from the gutter. There are precious few actual arguments buried in the aforementioned slew of invective, and I see little point in responding to every childish and ignorant comment, but to those of you who actually tried to say something constructive, I wanted to say that I’m listening, that I take your points seriously, and here are my few cents’ worth of response:
- If I insulted you vicariously because you love the show, it wasn’t intentional and I’m sorry for the slight, but I stand by my point: You’re worse off for having done so. Not a worse person, a person who is worse off. There is a difference.
- Some of you took issue with my incomplete characterization of what the show is about, which is true enough, although irrelevant, because whatever additional content the show may offer, whatever entertainment value it may provide to you, is not the point. The show itself is not the point. The point is (or was meant to be) that I love to cook and I love to eat and it saddens me that so many of our attitudes toward food belie precisely what is most wonderful about it. The point is that certain aspects of shows like Man v. Food may entertain, but at the cost of propagating the very worst of these attitudes, and these costs are real and material, if nonpecuniary. The point is, you should love what you eat, and what you eat should love you back.
- I readily concede that I could simply change the channel (just as you could navigate away from this thread), but I reject the implied criticism as specious and, when taken to its logical limit, dangerously irresponsible. Should we never speak out about that which we feel is wrong, so long as we can conveniently avoid seeing it? Really? (Isn’t this why you wrote the critique, and why it’s incumbent upon me to allow you to post it?)
As to the rest, if you consider wallpapering me with unoriginal and small-minded insults under the guise of a pseudonym to be a productive use of your time, then the most I can offer is to say that I’m really very sorry that your mother didn’t breastfeed you long enough.
So we’re clear: You are welcome, and indeed encouraged, to disagree with me. No matter how well or poorly formed your argument, no matter how kindly or rudely you express it, and always provided that you don’t violate my paper’s editorial guidelines, I will post it without qualification. That being said, I would respectfully request that you keep the dialogue intelligible, on-thread, and civil, in which case you’ll stand a far better chance of being taken seriously about whatever it is that got your knickers in a twist in the first place. Conventionally acceptable spelling and grammar are nice, too. You are, of course, perpetually free to ignore me, although I’d prefer to disagree than never to know one another. At least, in the main.
QOW: Guilty Pleasures
When no one’s looking, what do you eat?
We’re talking hide-the-wrapper, destroy-the-evidence, eat-a-breath mint kinds of foods that you don’t want anyone else to know you secretly crave. Guilty pleasures so to speak.
Perhaps its a unyielding addiction to Taco Bell’s Nachos Bell Grande or an unrequited love for the McRib. Or it could be a “bad day” run for a Double Double, or my personal weakness, Pho Vietnam’s #36. Maybe its a childhood comfort like strawberry Jell-O or just a craving for Martini Prawns at Gary Chu’s.
From fast-food and midnight grocery runs to favorite local restaurant dishes (one friend we know has a secret rendezvous each week at the Cheese Steak Shop), what are your guiltiest of pleasures. Just between friends, of course…
Someone naughty among you just might win a copy of Simple Comforts: 50 Heartwarming Recipes. It’s an easily-concealed-sized book filled with warm, comforting recipes for everything from 3-cheese polenta to chili, chocolate banana bread and tomato soup and grilled cheese. Yum. Just the stuff for guilty pleasure.
What’s your guilty pleasure?
What’s wrong with ‘Man v. Food’? What isn’t?
Lying around in full couch tuber regalia, following the heartbreakingly tantalizing 49er game, I had the misfortune to channel-surf through the treacherous waters of Monday Night Television, only to find my mental Minnow festooned around the awful coral head of Adam Richman’s Man v. Food. As if driving past an overturned car in a highway ditch, or probing a sore inside a cheek, I sat there, glassy-eyed and I must suppose mildly brain-damaged, for perhaps 15 minutes (an amount of time that, at roughly 0.00003% of my expected life span, strikes me as too long by at least half), transfixed, seemingly incapable of averting attention from either Mr. Richman’s ham-handed narrative or the grotesque display of gustatory abuse which forms the dubious premise of the show.
This particular car-wreck happened to be an episode in Philadelphia, in which the host must face down a single, titanic cheese steak from Tony Luke’s, the sandwich in question (although to call it that is surely to insult the Earl’s good memory and proper sandwiches everywhere) weighing in at an appalling 5lbs in total, and constructed from 3lbs of meat, 1lb of American cheese, and a half-pound of fried onions, all stuffed into a 20″-long sub roll, which I suppose we’re meant to infer weighs another half-pound. This is not the foul pile of landfill masquerading as food and pictured above-right; that unfortunate distinction belongs to Parker’s Hot Dogs in Sacramento, home to yet another 5lbs of televised obscenity at the hands of said Mr Richman. But even to debate the particulars is to offer the offer the show far more quarter than it deserves; the what he eats is irrelevant in comparison to the why.
I’ve been puzzling over what bothers me so much about the show for the last couple of days: Notwithstanding the puppy-dog eyes and smarmy winks, Mr Richman himself seems inoffensive enough, and arguably knows what he’s doing, both in front of the camera (he studied drama at Yale) and in the kitchen (he claims to be a trained sushi chef); nor is it the quality of the food itself, as he generally chooses destinations of some culinary merit (I have nothing against his roadie-food strong suit of cheese steaks, chili dogs, and burgers), or at least so they seem prior to his blasphemous display of eating whatever it is that they make. No, I think the problem lies with the premise of the show itself, the very idea that eating – to me, an inherently pleasurable, and literally life-giving, enterprise – should be reduced to a contest between the eater and the stuff on the plate
The great writer and patron saint of food bloggers everywhere, Mary Frances Kennedy Fisher, once said that the “enjoyment of the art of living, as well as of eating… are, or can be, synonymous.” Man v. Food is predicated on nothing less than the complete moral inversion of Ms Fisher’s guiding principle – the title itself proclaims mouth and fork to be enemies – and I’m guessing that that is what chafes me like a dull razor. Food is (or at least should be) enormously enjoyable and, served in proportion to its purpose, satisfies one of the most basic conditions for life; the absence of food implies hunger and death (the millions so afflicted are a tragedy of global proportions and a blight on our collective social conscience), and food in excess implies death by means other than hunger, but death just the same (we are a nation of over-eaters, on this the data is incontrovertible). And yet here is a major television production that exists solely by virtue of our ability to transform good food into something dangerously unpleasant. Worse still, this transformation is effected by the application of quantity: What would otherwise be nourishing, or at least tasty (I’m not sure if even the finest chili dog could ever be called ‘nourishing’), becomes a threat, simply because of the sheer size of the serving.
I know, I get it, it’s all just entertainment, you don’t need to post a reply with a litany of even-worse sins; we can just stipulate that competitive eating likely fails to represent one of the clear and present dangers to civilization as we know it, and that there are any number of significantly more disturbing examples of televised programming (certainly, The Swan and anything even peripherally related to Toddlers and Tiaras would rank higher on both lists). But its relative innocuousness in relation to graver threats in no way obviates my argument with Mr Richman and his self-destructive quest for ad revenue: The fact remains that the Travel Channel, by aggrandizing gluttony for a nation of the epidemically obese, sells our collective good sense of what food can and should be right down the river.
Preservation Society: Can you can?
Grandma’s summer strawberry preserves aren’t the quaint anachronism they once were.
Once the bastion of sweet old ladies and hardcore health nuts, canning or “putting up” everything from jams and tomatoes to zucchini, green beans and potted meats is the hippest hobby around.
Part eco-warrior, part granny-chic, returning to the old ways of preserving summer’s bounty is a skill as sweet as fresh peach jam — and not surprising considering the number of new backyard food gardens threatening to overwhelm their enthusiastic owners, according to Merrilee Olson of PreserveSonoma.
“Canning is so huge right now. And I think that’s been a natural outgrowth toward sustainability,” Olson says. “People are going to the farmers market and seeing this beautiful produce and thinking, ‘How can I capture this?’ And they’re also much more concerned about where their food comes from and exactly what’s in it. Those two things have created a kind of perfect storm for people to learn how to preserve again.”
She now operates the fledgling PreserveSonoma out of a commercial kitchen in Sebastopol, offering canning and preserving classes several times a month. For groups of six or more people, she’ll come to your home and host a canning party. Canning is a simple process to learn, but to be safe requires attention to detail. It’s no myth that canning gone wrong can make you very sick. Take a class or read a book before you try it.
Where to learn: Find details at Olson’s website: preservesonoma.com.
Where to buy equipment: Friedman’s Home Supply has tons of canning equipment and jars, along with an in-house canning expert, Kimberely Rossi, available to help folks just starting out. Olson also recommends Cultivate (186 North Main Street, Sebastopol, 707-824-1400) for fancier gift jars or large sauerkraut jars.
Where to get fruit: Don’t have enough of your own backyard bounty? Join with friends or neighbors and “glean” your neighborhood for unpicked fruits or veggies (always ask first, of course). Buy fruits and veggies in bulk from local farmers. Or, just troll the local farmstands for what’s at the peak of the season.
BiteClub Food Circus @ Handcar Regatta
It’s a bigtop food extravaganza — welcome to the BiteClub Food Circus at the Third Annual Handcar Regatta. (Sunday, Sept. 26, 2010)
I’m going to assume you’re familiar with the Regatta, darlings. Because if you’re not, well, spend some time here and get back to me once you’ve got your mind properly corseted.
This year, BiteClub is putting on a little show of our own. With some friends. Head to our booth for all-day fun and food demonstrations.
Here’s the Lineup:
– 11am : Exotic Cheese of the Orient. Our friends at The Beverage People (who should really be called the Everything Fermented People) will demonstrate how to make Indian paneer, a fresh cheese that makes dishes like Saag Paneer actually taste good.
– Noon: Dirty Pickling with the Veggie Queen. Jill Nussinow gets crafty with a demonstration of Watermelon Rind Kimchee in all its garlicky, fermented goodness. Kapow!
– 1pm: Everything but the squeal: Live Butchery! Chef Roger Praplan from La Gare will demonstrate the fascinating deconstruction of a 60 pound pig. Fear not, our porcine friend has already been dispatched and ALL the parts will be eaten and used. We’re no wasters. And we love pork belly.
– 2pm: Exotic Spices from Far Off Lands: The gals from Savory Spice will be tempting your noses and your palates with a spicey demonstration of curries and herbs from exotic lands. Follow your nose to this one.
– 3pm: Eve’s Apple: Merrilee Olson of PRESERVE Sonoma tames the forbidden fruit with apple press demonstrations (throughout the day) and LIVE vinegar making. Keep watching, because you never know what she might come up with!
– 4pm: Stuff This Sausage Making: Roger Praplan returns to demonstrate sausage-making (remember the pig?). There’s no waste and no want when it comes to porky deliciousness.
– 5pm: Dessert Time: Stick around for Bacon brittle and Straus vanilla bean ice cream from Chef Tiffany Friedman, who’s competing in the Sears Chef Challenge (and hoping to win some big $$ for Food For Thought, so vote for her!). What you say? Aw yeah, sweet porky goodness. So worth it.
What else is on tap?
Well, BiteClub’s super excited about another food area – the Friedman’s canning stage. Kimberley Rossi is a canning whiz and uber gardener who’s behind all that cool canning gear at Friedman’s home supply. If you’ve been over there recently (and I was while finalizing all my Regatta gear), you’ll automatically be inspired to start “putting up” for the winter.
“It’s become more and more popular over the last few years. We thought it was something that we thought only our grandparents did. But for me, it became a necessity — every inch of my garden has comething you can eat,” said Rossi. She’s been tapped by the stores to become their in-house canning expert and works with newbies (and experienced canners) to make sure things turn out well.
So during the bounty time of year (September, October), there are only a couple choices for all the extra veggies and fruits lying around: Give them away or can them. “It’s a labor of love. It can be quite hot in the kitchen canning all day, but after you’ve done it, you get to eat it all through the winter.” said Rossi.
Dessert First: Sonoma County desserts
Smart diners leave room for dessert. Brilliant ones just eat it first.
And really, why shouldn’t we? Dessert is all to often an afterthought. Or worse, an unpleasant struggle of will after gorging ourselves through four courses (and a bread basket). So it’s no wonder that some restaurants simply farm out their confections rather than putting serious energy behind their sweets. Not to mention that most chefs get nervous when you start forcing them to use things like measuring cups and recipes — critical to good pastry.
But dessert decadence is again on the rise (could economic recovery be far behind?). Kitchens are getting more creative with their last courses, retiring tired molten lava chocolate bombs and dry-as-dust cheesecake for a rainbow of cupcakes and childhood confections, fire and ice show stoppers, seasonal sensations and sweet-savory dishes that defy the category altogether.
Tummy rumbling? Here are some local favorites…
Of The Moment: With ripe apples threatening to bash our noggins at every turn, Starlight Cafe and Wine Bar take revenge on the crispy critters by serving up Gravenstein apple fritters with cinnamon ice cream and caramel. Take that. 6761 Sebastopol Ave., Sebastopol, 823-1943.
Childhood Confections:
– Triple Threat: Warm milk and cookies at Jackson’s Bar & Oven are exactly that, because who can improve perfection? Jackson’s Cupcake does Hostess one better with a dark chocolate mini cake filled with white chocolate cream and a signature swirl on top. And beignets are just a fancy word for doughnuts, right? “I have to say one of the best desserts I had recently was at Jackson’s Bar and Oven. Their beignets are to die for. Instead of the tradional fried balls of dough, they make them into long sticks of deliciousness that are fried perfectly and soft and warm on the inside. They are served with a raspberry coulis, creme anglaise, and hot fudge to dip them in. It’s worth the trip just to have this for dessert,” said Clara Black.135 Fourth St., Santa Rosa, (707) 545-6900.
– S’mores: Campfire-inspired, these melted chocolate, gooey marshmallow and homemade graham crackers for two have been on the menu since Restaurant P/30’s opening. And getting better every time. 9890 Bodega Hwy, Sebastopol, (707) 861-9030.
– Butterscotch pudding: “It’s just an old-fashioned recipe that proves classics are classics,” said Bryan Bousquet of Bistro M. Made with brown sugar, cream, eggs and other diet-smashing goodness, this nursery favorite has permanently taken up residence at the Bousquet’s casual Windsor eatery, Bistro M (610 McClelland Ave., Windsor, 838-3118).
– You’ll want to get your peanut butter in this chocolate: Homemade “Nutter Butters” (you remember the peanut butter cookies, right?) with dark chocolate fondue for dipping at Zazu Restaurant & Farm. (3535 Guerneville Rd., Santa Rosa, 523-4814)
Show-stoppers
Ice: Liquid nitrogen and vanilla custard make for a spectacular ice cream dessert made tableside. Part science experiment, part haute molecular gastronomy, it’s all good when warm chocolate and French cherries complete this avant sundae at Madrona Manor (1001 Westside Rd, Healdsburg, 433-4231. Baked Blackberry Alaska is “beyond delectable, the whole dessert is homemade from scratch…including the blackberry ice cream!” according to Stacy Chamberlain, a fan of Viola Pastry Boutique and Cafe, 709 Village Ct. Santa Rosa, 544-8830. Mixing up hot and cold is Stark’s Steakhouse’s Frozen Hot Chocolate with Whopper Foam and Chocolate Crackle Cookies (521 Adams St., Santa Rosa, 546-5100).
Fire: Cherries jubilee, the oldest of the old school desserts, flambeed tableside with a flair at La Gare (208 Wilson Street, Santa Rosa, 528-4355).
Out of the Ordinary
Leave it to a pastry chef to mix sweet and savory flavors in a single dessert. Roy Schvartzapel is the pastry chef at Cyrus (29 North St., Healdsburg, 433-3311). On his current menu: Passion fruit gelato with miso custard, white peach miso soup, olive oil and sesame sable. Love red velvet? Schvartzapel’s updated version is topped with vanilla bean cream cheese frosting, candied baby yellow beets, pickled chiyoga beets, a yogurt sphere, carbonated raspberry and red beet consomme and verjus sorbet. Whew.
Ice Cream & Cake
Cheesecake: Autumn Barber of Aioli Delicatessen (6536 Front St # 7, Forestville, 887-2476) is a big fan of Autumn Merkel’s small batch Sinful Delights cheesecakes available at Aoili and at Graziano’s in Petaluma . “They make amazing cheesecakes!! Caramel macchiato is my personal favorite,” she said.
Willi’s Wine Bar’s (4404 Old Redwood Highway, Santa Rosa, 526-3096) warm Scharffen Berger Flourless Chocolate Cake with Peanut Butter Caramel, Vanilla Bean Ice Cream & Sea Salt Peanuts is my favorite dessert in the county,” said Megan Feldman. But it’s panna cotta and pot de creme that get big thumbs up at Cucina Paradiso (114 Petaluma Blvd N. Petaluma, 782-1130), Rustic’s Chocolate Mousse al “Francis Francis” served with a dollop of cream in a teacup (300 Via Archimedes, Geyserville, 857-1400) and Creme brulee at Mosaic restaurant in Forestville (6675 Front St, Forestville, 887-7503)