cooking

Bourdain names names, film at 11

Anthony Bourdain rails against the current crop of TV chefs and names names:

We KNOW she can't cook. She shrewdly tells us so. So...what is she selling us? Really? She's selling us satisfaction, the smug reassurance that mediocrity is quite enough. She's a friendly, familiar face who appears regularly on our screens to tell us that "Even your dumb, lazy ass can cook this!" Wallowing in your own crapulence on your Cheeto-littered couch you watch her and think, "Hell…I could do that. I ain't gonna…but I could--if I wanted! Now where's my damn jug a Diet Pepsi?"

Via Jody, of course.

Spices free to good home

I gave the locals first crack at these, but they've had their turn and now it's yours.

I have large quantities of the following that are free to a good home:

  • whole savory
  • whole fennel
  • whole coriander
  • pickling spice
  • whole black pepper
  • ground cayenne pepper
  • whole cumin

If you are interested, speak up.

These are leftovers from a bulk spice order in which we brined a lot of pork.  I'd imagine that a combination of several of these, plus salt and garlic, would make a good brine for just about any kind of meat.

ro-tel?

While I wait for today's Godot -- Adobe CS3 -- to attempt (yet again) to reinstall Adobe Acrobat CS3 (of which install, I might add, there are several known problems, especially regarding upgrading) ... well, guess what, kids, you're stuck with me for a little while.

If you want to know how to keep a webmaster from getting anything done, deny her access to her email and her web browser. After a few tumultuous minutes of foaming at the mouth, she will subside into quiet, trailing whimpers while she waits for the pain to stop.

taking, and making, stock

Over the past week or so, I've been asking myself the question every self-respecting traveler asks well in advance of his/her trip—"What's gonna go in the bag?" My goal, admirable but perhaps ill-advised, is to make everything except my toiletries bag fit in one bag, which I will check.I will live out of that bag for a day short of two weeks. Thankfully, the vagaries of flight will deposit me in a land known more for sunshine than for snow. It's far easier to pack for sand and sun than it is for snow and cold. No boots, no sweaters, no scarves.

incoming: PHE 2006

We are nearly prepared. Yes, PHE 2006 is just about to land on us, and land on us with this sickening, alcoholic *thump*.The RSVP list currently stands somewhere around 40. There will be thirteen people staying in our house alone. I have a fridge full of food, and I'm not done yet.

I have a sweater to finish knitting for Saturday—if I'm diligent, I will finish tonight.

Crockpot broth for cheaters like me

I love to cook, but I love my laziness more. Most of the time, this intersection of personal interests yields little of interest, but every now and then, I have a eureka! moment that's worth sharing.

In the past couple of years I've come to appreciate the goodness of an off-the-cuff pan sauce. A bit of stock, a bit of wine, some aromatics, and then a bit of thickening agent (either some kind of fat, or arrowroot starch dissolved in water) for a good mouthfeel. Reduce, plate, eat.

All well and good, except for that first ingredient - the stock. The standard way of making it drove me absolutely batty: freezing/saving trimmings (bones, etc.) until you've got enough for a big batch, then plunking them into a lot of water in the large honkin' stockpot, along with whatever various aromatics (peppercorns, bay leaves, carrots, onions, etc.) I had on hand, and simmering for ages upon end until the bones give up their lovely useful flavors to the water.

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