« December 2005 | Main | February 2006 »

January 2006

Sometimes he goes too far--he's the first to admit it

HopperEvidently, Whole Foods is initiating its entry into the UK by offering free swigs of its 365 Organic Kool-aid to the Observer Food Monthly . It's as if Mr. Wholefoods wrote the thing himself. If the Brits are not going to bitch about bigbox conspicuous consumption foisted on them by a Yank who is a Texan to boot, what will they bitch about? Also, a vegan who sells tons of meat every week? The whole not getting high on your own supply has much to recommend it from a yayo standpoint, but it seems like a dubious position to sell what you refuse to eat.

Only in America

Don_king_1 Graydon_1 Graydon Carter is opening a restaurant?* That's crazy. That would be like, um, Rachel Ray starting a magazine. Esp. considering that Spy: The Funny Years is mired in #64,701st place, (right behind an Agatha Raisin mystery) Graydon might have better luck with a self-help book unlocking the secret to his unfathomable success after jumping the shark so emphatically early in his career. I'd pitch it as "The Other Side of the Fin: Putting the Suck in Success!" Perhaps Graydon and Don King could fight for the right to exclaim "I am the American Dream!"
*Somehow, I missed it the first time. I must have been dusting my Anna Wintour action figures.

Don't Ever Antagonize the Ham

Georgia. It gives so much, and asks so little: 

Sadham The ACLU of Georgia released copies of government files on Wednesday that illustrate the extent to which the FBI, the DeKalb County Division of Homeland Security and other government agencies have gone to compile information on Georgians suspected of being threats simply for expressing controversial opinions.

For example, more than two dozen government surveillance photographs show 22-year-old Caitlin Childs of Atlanta, a strict vegetarian, and other vegans picketing against meat eating, in December 2003. They staged their protest outside a HoneyBaked Ham store on Buford Highway in DeKalb County.

An undercover DeKalb County Homeland Security detective was assigned to conduct surveillance of the protest and the protestors, and take the photographs. The detective arrested Childs and another protester after he saw Childs approach him and write down, on a piece of paper, the license plate number of his unmarked government car.

Tough to suss this one out. I am far from a vegan, but would join a protest against HoneyBaked, or any other abuse of a perfectly good hog. If it had been the Country Ham Liberation Front, I'd feel differently. It would be even better if PETA and Slow Food rumbled outside of a HoneyBaked when they realized they were demonstrating against it for totally different reasons. A leading anti-fastmeat activist recently and legally changed his name to Kentuckyfriedcruelty.com, so perhaps soon there will be someone named "Honeybakedcruelty.com," though I like to think that somewhere there must already be a dominatrix working under that name.

Let us sprout

Alfalfa_cabbageFrom Culiblog, the food blog that most consistently gives the impression of being written by a character in a lost Ian McEwan novella, a way to save time at the salad bar-- sprouts sprouting out of lettuce. Somewhere, Kool Keith's vegan doppelganger is smiling.

Can the subaltern cook?*

Hesser fluffs the new Alford and Duguid jawn in the NYTM. The first sentence sounds like a setup for the world's most obscure joke:

Over the holidays, Naomi Duguid and her husband, Jeffrey Alford, invited three of their sons' friends — a Tamil, a Pakistani and a Jehovah's Witness — to celebrate with them at their farmhouse outside Toronto. "For Christmas morning," she recalled earlier this month, "Jeff and I heated up the iddlis so they were a little toasty and crisp and wonderful, and we had iddlis and sambhar and coconut chutney for Christmas breakfast."

"A kris? That's not a kris!" Cue rimshot. Even as it verges towards self-parody, the breakfast does telegraph the ethos of this team. As Hesser puts it:

If you have not heard of Duguid and Alford, it is time to get acquainted. Together they have been the authors and photographers of five cookbooks, each a splendid travel diary and recipe log that takes readers by the wary hand into remote villages throughout the world.

True enough, but my frustration with their work has always come out of a sense that "travel diary" and "recipe log" are not compatible. Travel writing is an effort to convey your experience to a reader, while cookbook writing is an effort to enable a reader to do something for him or herself. To that respect, the better the book as travel narrative, the less tempting it is as a cookbook. "We woke before dawn, hiked for two hours, and breakfasted on yams the gauchos roasted over an open fire as the sun came up over the pampas. Here's how you can roast yams in your oven at home!" Thanks.  I'll make myself some Chef Boyardee, watch the Discovery Channel, and silently curse my fate instead.

Alford and Duguid have an MO of taking up the cudgels for one corner of the developing world or another:

"Our whole work life has been a constant campaign," Alford began. "Against Europhilia," Duguid said, finishing his sentence. One of their pet peeves: editors who, before bidding on a book, ask if there is a New York City restaurant that serves the food they are writing about.

The restaurant thing is an understandable lament, but the push and pull between travelling and cooking is inherent in any book that considers the food of a particular region. A pitfall of semi-good food writing a narrative that is just compelling enough to make you wish you were there instead of the writer. Much of Waverley Root's putatively classic Foods of France falls into this trap--for my money, Liebling's much less comprehensive Between Meals is a much better book because he is graceful enough not to make the narrative feel like watching slides of someone else's vacation. For whatever reason, A&D's War on Europhilia manifests istself in producing books, that while beautiful, are scarcely viable in the kitchen. Mangoes and Curry Leaves, and Hot, Sour, Salty, Sweet are both roughly 10" x 11" and a festive 5 lbs apiece. More to the point, they are pretty and expensive--a book that size, and one that lists for $45, is more at home on a coffee table than in the kitchen. Considering the availablity of better cookbooks, ( instead of HSSS, Ruth Law's Southeast Asia Cookbook, for instance),  the A&D enterprise seems dubious. Puttamayoesque would be overstating the case, but it is hard to shake the sense that they are targeting consumers who have become too old and too rich for Lonely Planet. Despite Hesser's assurances  that "their Toronto kitchen [contains]  a world-class array of cookware, none of it from Williams-Sonoma," it's not hard to imagine one of their books as an accent in a Pottery Barn catalog.

*FWIW, Cinetrix and I thrilled to the sight of Spivak herself gesticulating avidly with a French fry at recent professional meeting.

Feeling a bit frosty myself

This pretty much sums it up:
Cannibal Ox: The Cold Vein
Back sometime.

The last, I hope

word on mac & cheese, this time of the Garfield variety (Via AFB):

Garfield_2  Garfield Macaroni & Cheese Dinner: Stare at the box long enough and the product's fundamental flaw will become clear: They didn't shape the pasta pieces like  Garfield! How could they skimp and skip that? It's the only requisite of any macaroni & cheese brand based on a children's franchise -- you've gotta have the funky pasta shapes! Essentially, there's nothing special about the stuff once it's out of the box, and if you've gotta keep macaroni in the box to make it special, there's something seriously messed up with the plan at hand.

Excerpted from a dauntingly comprehensive survey of food items featuring Garfield the fruit rollup entry is worth the price of admission if you ate lunch at school in the 1980s. If this new modesty thing catches on, "you gotta keep the macaroni  in the box to make it special" could be the slogan. Could happen, considering even Paris Hilton is on the modesty bandwagon. Via (FAB)

Horses and Soldiers wrapup

Thanks to one and all who responded to my entertainment query last week. Many good ideas, and many better ideas than what I ended up doing, because I just did not have the balls. Cooking something for a rather diffuse crowd, age and taste-wise, that also had to look like dinner to grad students, and like hors d'oeuvres to everyone else, was a peculiar challeng of the sort I usually enjoy. As it worked out, the first casualty was something that is  important to me when I cook, which is at least a vague regional coherence. I don't mean huffing about having things from diff chapters of Foods of France on the table at the same time, but some kind of geographic frame of reference that informs the meal. I would not, for instance, serve my guests vichysoisse followed by bul go ki. (One of the challenges of cooking alongside my family at holiday time is that I cannot usually persuade the relevant members of my familiy to share my strong clear vision, and have either to let that go, or quickly work up a dish in an appropriate idiom. But I digress.)
But I sacrificed all that in the name of meat on a stick. I knew that sate, with a good peanut sauce, would be a solid contender for this elusive meal that is not a meal. But the only other thai app that occurred was spring rolls, and life is too short to do that for this size of crowd. I did beef, chicken and pork, marinated in coconut milk w/ curry powder, a smidge of 5 spice, and some huy fong. They were popular, though cooking them on a big Weber inspired a purchase not twelve hours later, of which more soon. Otherwise, most of the items were things that could be dipped, one way or another. A nice little guacamole with chips, blue cheese dip with the local blue cheese with an ambitious collection of crudite. The only item that did not take off was the shrimp dip with crostini. I had shrimp, but not a viable shrimp/guest ratio for shrimp cocktail, so resolved on a dip for crostini loosely based on an Epicurious proportions of shrimp/mayo, etc, but was too aggressive with the dried chipotles I subbed in for tarragon and made the dip too thin trying to put out the fire.* Desserts were from the lady around the corner. In retrospect, I would not have more than one dip item. It is frustrating to work up a series of  appropriate dip/dipee relationships,  only to have guests shove crudite into the guacamole, crostini in the blue cheese, and so on. More self-contained things, like the mushroom caps RL mentioned would have been good. Or devils on horseback. If I had to do it again, I'd consider fancying up the hors, and staggering the invite time, and feeding something like a restaurant staff meal to the starving students early. That is probably insane, actually. People did seem to enjoy themselves, which is always good.

*I was intrigued by Rhulman's seafood terrine in his charcuterie book., but thought interlarded salmon, spinach and mushrooms in a seafood mousse was too much. I should have done it in advance. Better yet, a real pate de campagne done in advance, and we have the event in September and it is a picnic, somewhere near Aix.

Party over oops out of time

The calendar says 2006, so why does it already feel like the fin de siecle?

Chef website recap

Gay.
Gayer. (Via Eater.)
But still the gayest.
Chefs and genealogy buffs are the only people who still think it's ok to have music embedded in their homepages. Inexplicable. For a palate cleanser, enjoy the surprisingly charming franglish of A-D.com. Below the login, it asks "You have lost your password?" Impossible to say that phrase aloud as a question without affecting a bad French accent.

My Photo

Be my imaginary friend

  • Gurgling Cod's Facebook profile

Categories