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cooking

"Bisquits"

I have mentioned White Lily Flour a few times on this site, and though I’ve only worked with it a handful of times–one of my housemates in College had sorghum molasses and 20 lbs of White Lily shipped up from his relatives in Tennessee–it’s the incontrovertible Deity of Biscuit flour.

So it is with a heavy heart that I pass along this story from the NYTimes, who are reporting that the Knoxville, TN plant that has been sifting and re-sifting White Lily for over a century, will be decommissioned and production will be shifted to the Midwest. Not only that, but they’re changing the product, and not one biscuit maker or pastry chef is happy.

Sigh.

Proof of Killer Tomatoes

Ok, so my roommate vacillates between eating nothing but salad and nothing but junk. Below is photographic evidence of both:

The Taco Bell bag is recent, but those tomatoes are old. PURCHASED BEFORE THANKSGIVING 2006 OLD

the smaller one looks a bit shriveled and old, but the tomato in the foreground is unnatural. Let me repeat. this photo was taken on February 12th, 2007. Roomie bought these before leaving town for THANKSGIVING.

See the betting pool sketched out on the napkin? My guess is next novemeber. Killer Tomatoes must be engineered for a 1 year shelf life.

fuckups

(with apologies to anyone with work filtering)

Seriously, what else to call them? Kitchen mistakes–those moments where you’ve made something that just ain’t right. Sometimes it’s delicious but closely resembles what comes out of a person, or perhaps it looks great but causes your tongue and olfactory system to file a formal complaint with your central nervous system. I had one of those moments with some yellow split peas that refused to get cooked. simply refused.

Anyway, after a bitter disappointment at the hands of the stove that refuses to obey the laws of thermodynamics, it’s nice to see that disasters happen to pros as well.

oh look, there’s a whole category…

Transitional stew

Here in Portland, the clouds gather and the rain begins to fall, flexing our storm-drains to overflow, 1/8 of an inch at a time. I’m not giving up on summer quite yet, but there is a large contingent of masochistic portlanders who all start to get strangely happy–yes happy–when the grey mornings and damp air return.

Yet the farmers markets are still bursting with summer produce: tomatoes, eggplant, beautiful bountiful greens and all the fruitful trappings of a successful summer growing season. The vibrant, fresh flavors demand simple salads and outdoor bbqs, picnics and ethereal moments of eating melon in the sunshine.

(more…)

Two birthdays

I had the good fortune to wish two friends of mine happy birthday this week (well, three, but one didn’t allow me to cook anything). The first occasion was a sort of haphazard surprise BBQ party–we all gathered at the birthday boy’s house and sort-of-surprised him. He’d have noticed the gathering peoples if he hadn’t had his head in the groove banging on his Rhodes in the basement.

The impromptu BBQ had obvious challenges–mainly, that nothing had a chance to marinate. Off I dashed to the kitchen to make some sauces to go on the chicken, steak and skewers that abounded.

(N.B. all amounts are wild guesses–I was winging it, people)
Sauce 1
1 c. sweet/hot mustard
2 tbs. grated horseradish (from the bottle, natch)
2 c. Trader Joes apple cider
2 cl. minced garlic.
s/p to taste.

(mix well, ya wanker)

Sauce 2
1/2 cup olive paste (I made my own with some pitted kalamatas from new seasons, so it was nice and inconsistent.)
4 cl. garlic, minced
1 tsp bird chile powder
2 c. yogurt
1 tbl lemon juice

(mix well, ya wanker)

Sauce 3
1 c olive oil (or E-V-O-O if you suck, like rachel ray)
1/2 c rice wine vineagar
1 tbl. sambal
4 cl garlic, minced
1″ ginger root, minced
1 tsp ground cumin
smattering of pepper flakes
1/2 tsp soy sauce.

(mix well and often, ya wanker)

I called them the international trio–German, Greek and Tiki (as in anglicized, kinda-sorta-pan asian)
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Party #2 was a much more composed, prepared affair with an Italian Theme, so I made something radically neo-romanesque

melon “caprese” salad with a lemon-basil gastrique

the salad was, essentially, frenched Tomatoes and Cantaloupe from the co-op layered with whole Basil leaves–I put it in a straight sided, 1″ deep circular dish w/ a bottom layer of cantaloupe, then basil, then tomatoes, then basil etc… with some nice starburst patterns on top. I scattered a fair amount of hawaiian pink salt throughout. The gastrique–which I explained to curious minds as ‘the french version of sweet and sour sauce–was the only cooked element, and man was it tasty:

Lemon-Basil Gastrique-dressing
1 c. braggs apple cider vineagar
1/2 c. raw sugar
simmer until reduced by half, or for me, the prep time for the melon and the rest of the gastrique ingredients (my knife skillz are still here, for the most part)

toss in 1 bunch of basil stems and small leaves and simmer for 5 minutes–remove. You could and probably should leave them in a bit longer–the basil flavor was muted in the final product–but I had more than enough basil in this dish already.

add in 2 tbl. Lemon zest, minced to microscopic minutiae

prep your first tomato and then add 3 cloves of minced garlic

prep your second tomato then add 1/2 a giant walla walla sweet onion, finely diced (about 2-2 1/2 cups of cut onion)

keep it simmering while you finish the prep/construction of the salad. When the onions are nice and glossy/translucent take the pot off heat and let it sit for a few minutes. Adding the onions late means that the gastrique will get diluted by the liquid exuded from the cooking onions, and that’s good, but it lengthens cooking time. That’s the gastrique. For this use, I wanted something more ‘dressing-like’ so I added about 1/2-3/4 c. olive oil to round out the flavors as well as the juice of one lemon.

I kept the dressing and salad separated and allowed people to compose their own.