THE GURGLING COD

Guiteau Monday, Holocaust Dumpling ed.

So, thanks to The Calabrian Magistra for inspiring me to fire up this space. But with something this awesome, how could you even not? If you are not a big fan of post-45 literature -- and who is, anyway? -- you might miss the reference. While it might seem like "somebody's choice" is a foolproof name for a foodstuff, as in President's Choice house brand ice cream and such, even if you have an aunt named Sophie who is a veritable Segovia of dumplings, it's still not such a hot idea for a name for dumplings, because spoiler alert. You don't need to hire a fancy brand manager to tell you that "Holocaust" is not what you want people to think of when they think of your dumpling brand. But that's why they call it Guiteau Monday. 

Tour roundup. Or, is this thing even on?

Hola. It has, indeed, been a long time since I have rapped at you here. Apologies. If eating and cooking is an excuse, then ok. As the years and responsibilities increase, it's harder to find the time and the energy to write blog posts, and harder still not to feel as if writing blog posts are more than a charmingly anachronistic quirk, like using a straight razor or having chickens in the back yard. Increasingly, the kind of 500-1,000 word post on a meal or an ingredient or an issue has given way to commentary of 140 characters max or 5,000 words minimum. Times is against both, (Longform is too long! Twitter is too short! Fishwrap is juust right!)  But I digress. 

The 13-14 Please Everyone Tour, in which Fesser and cinetrix drive around like idiots to see friends and family does offer a chance to check in on some food options not present in the back yard. Tack on a bonus lap to Chicago for the big English Professor Stampede, and you get some more choices By chance or predilection, a bunch (almost all, really) fell into a category of new resto I might call Serious Meats & c. We hit Kirkland Tap & Trotter, Worthy Kitchen, and Worthy Burger in New England, and in Chicago we insulated ourselves from the Polar Vortex at Two, Publican, Little Goat, and Trenchermen. 

These spots are all very different one from the other, but collectively, they represent a new step in an ongoing interplay between fine dining and more casual spots. If we've seen in recent years efforts by chef X to "elevate dish y from its humble roots," we now seem to be seeing the opposite, where Beard-winning chefs are opting to do something with more barstools and Formica. KT&T Little Goat are both siblings of top-5 restaurants in their respective towns, and were the most exciting places I visited. Telling that on a short trip, I found a way to make return trips to both of these places. Little Goat is basically like if Steak and Shake died and went to heaven, via Seoul. KT&T is like Valhalla where there is food at River Gods or People's Republic you actually want to eat. Details TK -- in entirely unrelated news, I am on my way to the gym. 

Old cook / New tricks

Anchower, I know, but stay tuned for PHC on the new Maws joint, and a Chicago safari. 

Anyway, I mentioned this briefly in a tweet yesterday, and wanted to expand just a little. I've been aware recently of how much cooking is the repetition of similar tasks at different times in different contexts. There are new ingredients, better equipment, new friends, new techniques, etc. There is also displacement, isolation, and bereavement. It's jarring every time I realize I don't have access to a staple b/c there are not Asian groceries where I live now, and so forth. 

But what struck me last night was the experience of returning to an old recipe after time away from it. It's a green Thai curry receipt I learned off of the back of a can of Westernized coconut milk, but it was a favorite back in the 1990s. I cooked it on third dates, and my folks really loved it. It goes like this:

Heat green curry in coconut milk, add diced chicken breast, add brown sugar/fish sauce, add basil, add stock, add frozen peas, serve over rice. 

Nothing fancy, but comforting on a cold night. I doubt if I've made it though, in the time I've been doing this blog, which is now longer than I care to consider (2005). I was working from memory, and a couple of things immediately struck me. Somehow the process reminded me of long-ago agit about how to cut up a chicken breast, which I've done many times in other contexts since, or at least spent more time with a knife in my hand. Also, it occurred to me that I wanted to punch up the jar of cury (now Maesri rather than Taste of Thai), w/ real aromatics, so I added some fresh ginger and shallot at the beginning. Then I browned the chicken in the curry/aromatic mix, before adding liquids. This receipt was a favorite winter choice for my folks, b/c it's a non-assy application of frozen peas. However, reheating was a disaster, as peas got untenably mushy. I barely thawed some frozen peas, rinsed in cold water, and added as I served. 

This version was objectively better, but somehow it felt strange to improve upon something my parents (now dead) had enjoyed so much when I cooked it for them. Cooking is funny like that.