speaking of eats

Sakurako Kitsa makes captivating bento (and documents them on Flickr) »

BTW: have you ever tried to follow the Japanese provision of eating five colors for every meal? Been trying. It's hard.

street value

How much is a speech by Barack Obama worth? Five billion, apparently.

The final meeting of Group of 8 leaders [in July] in L’Aquila, Italy, started with $15 billion already on the table. Then President Obama gave a speech evoking the Kenyan village where his father herded goats as a child. In countless villages like it, millions of people face hunger daily, Mr. Obama said, and after he finished speaking, the pledges jumped by $5 billion, according to several officials present.

In Experts Worry as Population and Hunger Grow in this morning's New York Times.

The meeting in question concerned hunger, which is now part of the daily existence of 1.02 billion people worldwide.

Neil MacFarquhar goes on to write that "those pledges remain murky" and quotes a "financial official involved in the talks who was not authorized to speak publicly" who expresses the realities behind those good intentions:

The good news is that the political class considers this important and wants to do something about it. But nobody has 20 billion and spare change in their sock drawer.

Related (and a little more upbeat): California’s Food Banks Go Locavore »

oh! and if you want to feed someone without leaving your laptop, try Free Rice is Nice »

baguette etiquette

baguette tradition 1,00
Originally uploaded by .....antonio.....

1. On entering, greet the salesperson with 'Bonjour, madame,' or 'Bonjour, monsieur,' and make eye contact.

2. Pay with coins -- or small-denomination notes -- unless you're spending 20 euros or more.

(...)

13. Close out your visit with 'Merci, au revoir. Bonne journée!'

From 13 Tips for Visiting a Parisian Boulangerie (so complicated) in the Premiere issue of Afar Magazine, a U.S. publication, which (reasonably) assumes that Americans must be coached in the proper etiquette of saying hello and goodbye when entering a shop.

Additional tips: don't dither over the bread (#8) and #5, if you're eating alone ask for a demi-baguette (porker).

Apologies for the lack of link: the folks at Afar haven't gotten around to posting their publication online yet.


Related: kappa maki »

locavore

That’s why I haven’t had a cheese steak.

My brother, who’s been living in Philly for the last eight months and will most likely leave as soon as he wraps up his graduate program, when I saw him over the weekend and related to him something I had just heard from Allen Christiansen at the U Penn Maya Weekend.

Namely that, tangled up within contemporary Mayan conceptions of ancestry, is the very potent possibility that we come to know the things that matter -- histories, remedies, right ways of being -- because the blood of the ancestors resides in our blood and helps us remember these things.

But unlike the euro-centric idea of ancestry which is top heavy with begats and begottens, in the Mayan world view one isn’t born into ancestry -- ancestry is tethered to place.

Nine months is usually what it takes to make the ancestors of a place your own: a period of gestation in which you live there, eat the local food[1] and contribute to the community.

After that you are of that place and the ancestors are your ancestors -- and once the ancestors have got your back, baby: you're golden. (Provided, of course, you do your part with the prayers and the flowers and the offerings and stuff.)


[1] Corn tortilla is the food that matters most to the Maya -- it bears a powerful resemblance to the Catholic Host in their world view.

speaking of the far away come near

We ordered. As always, my brother, my sister and I searched the food that evening for our mother, for our aunts and for our grandmothers. Each Pakistani woman spices her curries in her own way; each pan has a different aroma, the way each human body smells slightly different. The thickness, texture and the width of each woman’s chapati is also unique to her, depending on the size of her hands, the shape of her fingers and the strength with which she kneads the dough. And that evening all three of us were overcome very soon after we began the meal: the food — the flavor of the mutton, of the samosas — was the best we had tasted since our visits to our eldest aunt’s home in Lahore. That was 20 years ago, and the aunt had been dead for 10 years.

From the Homesick Restaurant in this Sunday's New York Times Magazine which, like a good meal, you really must devour from beginning to end to entirely enjoy »

chilled chopped lamb chop salad

Just pulled together a salad from leftovers that was an amalgam of ideas from all over: julienned romain from the classic chopped salad; cold rice and sweet corn from a salade Niçoise that I had once in Amboise; a mint vinaigrette adopted from the New Basics cookbook; and a hard-boiled craving for meat on my greens.

It made me happier than I have a right to be, and I wanted to share.

chilled chopped lamb chop salad
serves 2 to 4, depending on your appetites

chilled grilled lamb chops, leftover from last night’s dinner with friends -- as many chops as you need to feed the hungry people at the table (I was working with 5. we bought way too many.) bet this would work with hot, freshly grilled lamb, too.

a vine ripened tomato, chopped

three stems of fresh mint, chopped

one head of romaine lettuce, julienned

1/4 cup rice wine vinegar

olive oil -- 1/2 cup for the vinaigrette; a splash for the rice

2 tablespoons dijon mustard

1 cup arborio rice

1/2 cup sweet corn, frozen (or right off the cob, if you've got it)

salt & pepper

Cook the rice in rapidly boiling water, just like pasta. Toss in some salt and a little bit of olive oil. It should cook up in about 10 or 15 minutes -- sample periodically with a slotted spoon and when it’s *just* shy of al dente toss in the sweet corn.

Continue to boil briefly until both the rice and the corn are just right. Drain in a sieve and spray it down with cold water. (I used the spritzer from the sink, tossing the rice and corn in the sieve to make sure I got it all -- you could probably also submerge it quickly in cold water and then drain.) The goal is to cool the rice down to arrest the cooking.

Drain off the last of the water and toss the corn and rice with a splash of olive oil, salt and pepper, and set it in the fridge to chill for a little while.

Wash, spin and julienne the romaine leaves.

Cube the leftover lamb chops. Give Charlie a few scraps. Listen to him purr.

To make the vinaigrette: Whisk together the dijon and vinegar, then whisk in the olive oil. Add a pinch of sugar, pinch of salt and a sprinkling of fresh cracked pepper. Stir in the chopped mint and tomatoes.

Toss the cubed lamb with the vinaigrette, then toss the lamb with the lettuce, saving a handful of lamb off to the side. You’ll use this to top off the salad.

Divide the lettuce among salad plates. Spoon the cold rice on top of the lettuce, making a small mound in the center.

Top with the remaining lamb and sprinkle with grated parmesan. A sharp soft goat cheese would be nice too.

Eat it up, yum.

a suttonhoo original

Crumpler's packed.

Crumpler's packed.
Originally uploaded by suttonhoo

Tetanus' injected. Chloroquine's quaffed.

Dumpling Man will probably stay behind for safekeeping. (OMG whadya mean you don't know the Dumpling Man of the East Village? Many thanks forever to Rahul, who introduced us.)

Posting by cameraphone from home where I'm packing for Chiapas and the Petén.

in Disney's Japan they dined on synthetic crab

like I was saying

Photo: Joe Fornabaio for The New York Times

You kept hearing ‘oh, oh, oh,’ [and then the guests became] literally like wild animals, tearing apart everything on the table.

Franz Aliquo, lawyer and Supreme Commander of "flavor tripping parties" involving the West African fruit synsepalum dulcificum which "rewires tastebuds" as reported in yesterday's New York Times.

The fruit, when “you pop it in your mouth and scrape the pulp off the seed, swirl it around and hold it in your mouth for about a minute,” makes everything sweet.

Via Enyasi

feed me

I play a game when my mind starts to wander in those unfamiliar social situations where I’m surrounded by people I’ve only just met. If for some reason I haven’t yet found those few folks from whom a whole world of conversation will emerge, and I’ve grown tired of looking, I play my game.

I watch people eat and I wonder about them in bed.

Not in a naked hyper porn kind of way. I have a theory that you can tell how a person is in bed by watching them eat. By watching how they choose and handle and consume food. What they decide they want to eat; what they decide they won’t. Whether they approach it with enthusiasm or like a dentist’s chair. Whether they’re curious, selective, investigative, or simply take the first lump to pass before them on a plate. Whether they wolf it down quickly or savour it slow.

Because I think if you can figure out how a person plays in bed, you can figure out a whole lot about how they tackle life.

My data set is small (she says modestly) so it’s not a proven theory. But it keeps me occupied, because I think our relationship to food says worlds about our relationship to life.

It’s a sensuous oral activity, of course, (eating is) and it shocks me a little (when I’m deep into playing my game) that we would conduct this activity in public. The way we consume and devour; the way we tear and slice and shovel and slurp. Think about it. You may never sit down to a meal with friends again without blushing.

But it’s not just the act of eating that reveals us to others. It’s how we’re oriented to food. This meal: are we going to relish it or choke it down because it's compulsory? How do we choose our dinner companions; how do we attend to them when they’re in our company? And what about the occasional solitary meal: do we savor the solitude, use the silence to better enjoy the sensation, or do we eat quickly and furtively, hoping no one spots our onanistic moment.

(And now you know entirely too much about me.)

proving a hypothesis

More evidence that broccoli is, in fact, the “most obscene” of all the vegetables, a firmly held conviction that Rahul shared with me -- with great passion, some volume and at length -- over our remarkable dinner at Convivum Osteria in Brooklyn last week.

I explained that broccoli as we know it is an unnatural hybrid conceived of rabe and cauliflower, engineered by the same Italian family who would later give birth to the original producer of the James Bond franchise, Albert R. Broccoli (may he rest in peace).

To which Rahul replied: “This is why you can’t do simple math.”

(An observation which, to my horror, was later proved true when I tried to add the tip to the tab.)

Broccoli poodle by Saxton Freymann, and featured in today’s New York Times Playing With Food feature.

sweet pea pasta

The best and hardest thing about spending so much time on the road? Eating in so many restaurants.

The best and hardest thing about coming home again? Making my own meals.

Sometimes takes a few days of take out and quick fixes until I've settled in, the bags are unpacked, and routine has returned like a cat to its sill.

Then it's time to make a mess in the kitchen. Then it's time to come home.

fettuccine with peas, green onions, and mint (really)
serves 4

or, as we call it around here: sweet pea pasta

• small pinch of saffron threads or saffron powder


• 6 tablespoons of unsalted butter at room temp


• 6 green onions or several young red onions, sprouted like scallions trimmed and cut into rings


• salt to taste


• 1 1/2 pounds fresh peas, shelled, or 1 1/2 cups frozen peas (it was a school night: I opted for frozen)


• water


• 3 tablespoons chopped mint leaves


• 3/4 pound fettuccine Manischwitz egg noodles, since it’s just past Passover and they’re raffling them off for cheap at the grocery


• freshly ground black pepper


• freshly grated Parmesan cheese

Soak the saffron in a very small bowl with 2 tbsp hot water while you prepare the sauce.

Combine 4 tbsp of the butter, the green curious red onions, and salt to taste in a medium saute pan. Cook over low heat until the onions are tender. Add the peas and 1/2 cup water, and cook over low heat until the peas are tender, stirring gently from time to time. Stir in the mint and keep warm.

Combine the remaining butter and the saffron water in a warm pasta serving bowl.

Meanwhile cook the fettuccine egg noodles in abundant salted boiling water. Drain when just tender, leaving water dripping from the strands. Place the pasta in the serving dish, add the sauce, and gently toss. Serve sprinkled with pepper and Parmesan cheese.

From Viana La Place’s Verdura, of course.

Images from the bounty that is Flickr and created with Big Huge Labs Mosaic Maker tool:
1. Fatte in casa, 2. Fresh mint, 3. Peas, 4. Scallions in a Sieve

kappa maki

I made sushi.
Originally uploaded by Phil Dragash.

Dropped by the Field Museum's Mythic Creatures exhibit over the weekend, which was all good and a lot of fun except for the gal who was reading the placards to her children in a tinny not conducive to reading outloud voice (I can only imagine what bedtime is like around that house) (& a request: SUMMARIZE the key points for the kids. in your natural voice. we'll all appreciate it.).

The creature who won my heart was the Japanese Kappa, whose love for cucumbers is the reason we call cucumber rolls kappa maki.

The Kappa lives in water, which gives him his power, and when he emerges from the water in search of the small children whom he loves to eat as much as cucumbers he carries his power with him -- in a small depression on the top of his head.

This curious circumstance means that a small child under threat need only bow to him and he will bow in return, spilling the water, and his power, subsequently losing his strength.

Disarmed by politeness.

queens english

I'm just a goy who was raised, as I think I've mentioned, by a Jewish girl from Queens.

Which means, gentile that I am, my vocabulary is sprinkled with Yiddish. I schmooze, I schlep, I have no patience for schmucks and nothing but appreciation for the rare mensch.

And I know schmutz when I see it.

Growing up with my stepmom may be the reason Manhattan feels like home to me -- especially Kari G's neighborhood where the bossy Jewish ladies live -- even though I only lived there for a brief flash when I was three. The cadence of her voice may even be the reason I fell hard for a guy from Far Rockaway almost as soon as I got to college (he sounded like home.) (&oh. yeah. he was brilliant.).

She's the reason I adore knishes and noodle kugel and halavah. The reason I make my Thanksgiving stuffing with challah, and will be making matzoh brei as soon as that box of matzoh gets stale enough (topped with Deer Mountain jam, of course. stay tuned for recipe.).

She's the reason too that I seek out museums and theatre and even State Capitols and U.S. Mints like a cat seeking a spot warmed by the sun, because, shipwrecked New Yorker that she was, stranded in the outbacks of Denver and Seattle and desperate for culture, she did everything shy of manufacturing it.

She's the reason I light the Menorah in the dead dark of winter to remember the light, and the reason too that I'll be joining my Jewnitarian peeps for Seder tonight; breaking the matzoh and tasting the bitters.

So no, I’m not Jewish. I'm all goy. But because of my stepmom, my passionately tempered unfailingly curious stepmom who no, wasn't always, shall we say, calm, but yes, was always there, because of my stepmom I learned early that we choose our worlds, we choose who we are, and we choose who truly is our family, through the simple daily discipline of choosing to love.

you are what you eat

Illus: Yes Pecan! from Slate's Trailhead

He has more of the arugula vote.

Microtargeting expert (and former Clinton chief strategist) Mark Penn, author of Microtrends: The Small Forces Behind Tomorrow’s Big Changes, commenting on Obama’s slice of the voter base in this morning’s New York Times' piece: What’s For Dinner? The Pollster Wants to Know.

Fun piece -- or unnerving, depending on your perspective -- on how microtargeting, a technique used to great effectiveness by direct marketers, is being used to shape our candidates’ political campaigning. The piece also observes:

Dr Pepper is a Republican soda. Pepsi-Cola and Sprite are Democratic. So are most clear liquors, like gin and vodka, along with white wine and Evian water. Republicans skew toward brown liquors like bourbon or scotch, red wine and Fiji water.

When it comes to fried chicken [Matthew Dowd] said, Democrats prefer Popeyes and Republicans Chick-fil-A.

“Anything organic or more Whole Foods-y skews more Democratic,” Mr. Dowd said.

No word on Mountain Dew. Based on my own informal research I’m guessing the Dew base skews Libertarian.

Other correlates from the piece include:

Obama
Bear Naked granola
The Cheesecake Factory
Arugula
Starbuck’s
Panera Bread
grass-fed beef
Izze sparkling juice
Kettle Chips
Lara Bar
Olive Oil
“intensely dislike vanilla wafers”

Clinton
Odwalla Super Protein drink
Boca Burger
Go Lean breakfast cereal
Newman’s Own pretzels
Luna Bar
Red Lobster
Krispy Kreme
“an affinity for fruit-filled cookies” like Fig Newtons
white wine
butter

McCain
SoBe energy drink
corn-fed beef
Fiber One breakfast cereal
Sun Chips
Power One bars
Chips Ahoy
Fuddruckers
Hardee’s
bourbon
Stuffed Crust Pizza

like candy

Schooled
Originally uploaded by Leviathor.

I’m going to ask you to trust me on this one.

Even though the following recipe contains an odd mashup of ingredients -- some of them unlikely (raisins), others seemingly vile (anchovies), in the end it’s all good.

I promise you.

Like candy.

The first time I made Vianna La Place’s Perciatelli with Strong Tastes (subbing in Orecchiette, I admit) my ex- (who wasn’t, yet) and I wolfed it down. Paused briefly. And then agreed that I should make another batch. Which we summarily wolfed down.

Well, maybe a little more slowly the second time.

It’s that easy to make, and it’s that amazing to eat.

Trust me.

Perciatellli ai Sapori Forti
serves 4 to 6

• 1 lb perciatelli, broken into short lengths last night I used a curious, curled maccheroni for the first time. loved it.


• 6 tbs extra-virgin olive oil


• 4 anchovies, chopped to a paste, optional no. not optional. you want these anchovies. you *need* these anchovies.


• 4 tbsp raisins, plumped in warm water


• 6 tbs lightly toasted pine nuts


• 16 pitted oil-cured black olives, cut into large pieces (last night I used kalamatas, but use your faves)


• 6 tbs coarsely chopped Italian parsley (didn’t have any on hand last night. didn’t matter.)


• salt & freshly ground pepper to taste


• Toasted coarse bread crumbs

Cook pasta in abundant salted boiling water. Drain when al dente and reserve a little of the pasta cooking water.

Meanwhile select a saute pan large enough to contain all the cooked pasta. Warm the olive oil and the optional anchovies.

Add the drained pasta and toss. Sprinkle the remaining ingredients, except the bread crumbs, over the pasta, and toss over low heat for about 5 minutes, or until everything is hot and fragrant.

Season with salt and pepper but remember that the olives are salty, as are the anchovies if you use them. (You’re using them. Let’s be sure we agree on this one point. There’s a curious alchemy that occurs when you saute these little creatures. I don’t understand it, but I’m pretty sure it’s what makes this dish what it is.)

Sprinkle the pasta with bread crumbs and toss again.

Serve immediately with a small bowl of bread crumbs at the table.

Faithfully adopted from Vianna La Place’s Verdura, a gift from my sister, aka she of the seasonal greeting cards, for which I will love her forever (among other reasons).

Updated: Forgot the raisins. & the bread crumbs. Added them in. Many thanks to anniemcq for her keen editorial eye.

fortifying for the road home

fortifying for the road home
Originally uploaded by suttonhoo.

Posting by cameraphone from Max's Deli

Burlingame, CA

an Internet tale of lost love found again

I love jam. In the summertime I stock up on locally made jams at our farmer’s market and nurse them all the way through winter. I use it in place of sugar on oatmeal and in plain yogurt, and of course on buttered toast.

Regrettably, I’m just about nearing the end of my stash.

Of all jams I love Deer Mountain most of all. Deer Mountain is available in grocery stores in the Seattle area – I haven't seen it anywhere else. There’s something just right about Deer Mountain jam – maybe a little too sweet, but so bursting with fruit flavor that you blame the berries.

My brother AMB lived with me one summer in Seattle and developed an addiction to their raspberry. After he moved away I would send him a jar periodically, but never frequently enough, I’m sure. I’m a huge fan of the blueberry – ‘specially spread on bread with cream cheese – and their gooseberry – so tart, so good – set out when friends come for dinner with crusty bread and plain old chevre.

Today I pulled my last blueberry farmer’s stash down from the shelf, and started thinking about Deer Mountain. Thought I’d try Googling them one more time – even though the last few times I’ve tried I came up empty-handed.

Here’s what unfolded next via email:

=== ME ===

Hi there:
I found a reference online that led me to believe that Tea-n-Crumpets preserves are also known as Deer Mountain Preserves as they are sold in grocery stores in Washington State. Is this assumption correct?

I noticed that many of your preserves are the same as Deer Mtn -- Gooseberry and Blackberry, for example -- although Blueberry is noticeably missing.

http://tinyurl.com/2elvdm

Thank you for your time -- I'm a huge fan of Deer Mountain Preserves and have been disappointed not to be able to find them in Illinois -- it would be lovely if they're one and the same.

best,
D.


=== ME AGAIN ===

Hey A:
I *think* this jam:
http://tinyurl.com/2elvdm

May be Deer Mountain jam under another name.

the only problem is that THEY DO NOT CARRY BLUEBERRY.

which is *hugely* problematic.

I've sent an email to customer service -- I'll keep you informed.

love ya,
D

but p.s. they DO carry raspberry.


=== AMB ===
which is probably better for day-to-day consumption, unless you eat pancakes everyday.


=== JENA ROSE, TEA-N-CRUMPETS CUSTOMER SERVICE ===

Hi D,

Yes; I'm happy to report that Deer Mountain "private labels" our Tea-n-Crumpets preserves. We've been selling their jams for 13 years-they are simply the best!

Unfortunately, Barbara let us know they had discontinued the Blueberry. I don't know why, but it had run it's course.

Thanks for checking; we hope you'll be pleased.

Regards,
Jena Rose
Tea-n-Crumpets

I’ll spare you the thread-of-much-rejoicing, except to say that AMB questioned whether blueberry could *ever* run its course, and I had to sorrowfully agree.

Suffice it to say: I’m placing my order today and will shunt a few jars of raspberry down New Mexico way.

Oh happy day.

pearls, unfurled & otherwise

like Spring soil receives the seed
Jasmine pearls unfurl

Do you know this tea? It’s brilliant. Tightly wound Jasmine pearls that unfurl in fragrant steam when you set them to steep.

how 'bout a little bacon?

Because it’s still winter, g*d*it, as much as I want it to be spring. Might as well break out the bacon.

Edna Lewis’ Red Rice

• 5 to 6 slices of BACON (center cut’s good for this one -- little bit lean; whole lot tasty)


• 2/3 cup chopped onions


• 1 tsp dried thyme


• 1 green pepper ick. no. roast a poblano chile. brown paper bag it while it cools. strip off the charred parts and pull out the seeds -- but do it through plastic somehow so you don’t get that chile fire under your fingernails. ick. no.


• 2 small round hot peppers if you do this with a poblano (see above) you’re not going to need these


• 2 cups fresh tomato puree (or canned romas pureed in a hurry. after all it’s still winter: where are you gonna find good fresh tomatoes?)


• 1 tbsp brown sugar


• 2 cups cold water


• 2 cups Carolina or popcorn rice I used a fragrant basmati and it worked beautifully


• 1 cup or more small pieces cooked ham or fish (I used some of the Virginia ham that my sister sent at Christmas time, half of which I kept frozen until now. Yum. but I'm thinking smoked trout might work well in this dish too.)


• salt & fresh ground pepper (sea salt, of course. we’ve talked about this.)

Cut the bacon into 1/2 inch pieces and cook it up in a heavy-bottomed saucepan (I used a Creuset round oven which meant I didn’t have to transfer dishes later.) until crisp. Remove and set aside. Pour off half the bacon fat if you need to -- if you’re using that center-cut bacon you may not have a whole lot to work with, so save it all.

Add the onions, stir and simmer ‘til soft. Toss in the thyme and the poblanos, which by now you’ve sliced into little strips. Mix well and add the tomato puree and brown sugar. Add water and stir in the rice.

Cover and simmer on a low burner until the rice starts to cook -- add the bacon and ham. Stir it up good and set in an oven preheated to 350 degrees and cook for 45 to 60 minutes, until the rice is tender. (If you used a regular saucepan earlier you'll want to transfer it to some kind of casserole now.)

Serves 4, and doesn’t keep too well, so if you’re serving fewer make sure you’re really hungry. Dish is so tasty that overeating is readily induced.


Freely adopted from Edna Lewis’s cookbook: In Pursuit of Flavor, which I picked up a little while back at Monticello. It's loaded with classic Southern-style dishes -- simple, pure and good.


Image: That would be Francis Bacon, of course.