Everyone loves to taste and smell and experience food. And rightly so; it can be a very visceral experience. But to me, it's just as enjoyable to hear about food. To hear someone describe a great meal can be almost as satisfying as eating it myself (with none of the calories). I love discovering different words and terms and metaphors to describe my food. I love hearing beer described as "woody" or "nutty" or "golden." And I love the actual sounds that food makes when you play with it - crackling, bubbling, snapping.
Hence, why I get so much of my food information from public radio. Sure, there are better sources - but it's the way I like to get my food news: in words and phrases as gorgeous and robust as the dishes they describe. If you squeeze your eyes shut and listen to cooks speak about their latest creations, it's quite lovely and relaxing.
Obviously, nothing beats sitting down at a restaurant with a great plate of food in front of you. But if I'm lying in bed on Sunday afternoon, I'll take a plate of public radio, thanks, soup on the side. And then I'll get full on seconds.
Leave it to The Simpsons to accurately predict the future. Remember the episode where Homer and Bart suck the grease from Springfield Elementary's cafeteria to try and turn a profit, but the vacuum explodes and the kids wind up playing "snowball fight" with grease balls?
Well, that scene is now a reality. Okay, not the part about the grease fight - but pretty much everything else.
As the demand for biofuel rises, thieves making to look a quick buck are stealing the "yellow grease" leftover from restaurants that cook their food in veggie fat. Like Homer Simpson, they suck up the substance with vacuums, and can get a few thousand dollars from about 5,000 gallons (grease has shot up to 32 cents a pound).
It's not a job for the dainty thieves: Christian Science Monitor writer Ben Arnoldy describes the smell of a grease rendering plant as "like a combination between a fast food restaurant and a butcher shop, where maybe the meat's gone bad."
A recent study found that cherry tomatoes grown in salt water can turn out tastier and heartier than ones grown normally, partially because the plants have to fight harder to fight the environmental stress and produce more compounds to help them cope. These compounds contain antioxidants like Vitamins C and E, which have healthy effects on those who consume the fruit.
The solution only contains 20% seawater. Unfortunately, not all genotypes of tomatoes react in the same way to the salt water. Some die because they cannot counteract the free radicals from the solution, so don't try to do this with larger tomatoes; it probably won't work. In the study, the water was constantly circulated and the pH controlled by a computer, so the researchers promise that the tomatoes won't taste salty.
The researchers, based at the University of Pisaone in Italy, are encouraging the growth of tomatoes in brackish water, because it will not only lead to juicier, healthier tomatoes, but will help to preserve our freshwater supplies.
This week, NPR's Kitchen Window series gives us some insight into the simple, wholesome recipes of the Shaker culture, in which food is carefully used and never wasted. They grew and prepared their own food, which was nutritious and well-rounded, and sat down to meals with often 300 at a table, everyone sharing in the bounty.
Here we get a few recipes adapted from "The Best of Shaker Cooking," including Peas and Potatoes in New Cream, Cream of Asparagus soup, and the 5-ingredient Shaker Lemon Pie. One Shaker chef explains the pie like this: "You've got to watch it, take care of it, pamper it...you can taste the difference."
Could a restaurant be so appealing, so irresistable, that you'd wait a year to get a reservation?
This one apparently is: Talula's Table in rural Pennsylvania, has been called the most difficult reservation to get in the country. Talula's is about an hour outside of Philly, has only one large farm table that seats 12, and is run by a husband and wife team. There's a store that sells cakes, pies, soups, and over 150 different kinds of cheeses (the co-owner spent her life studying cheeses).
But the real treat appears to be the restaurant. The eight-course tasting menu, which features fresh and primarily local ingredients, is the same every day for about 5-6 weeks, and then changes depending on what's in season.
The day that one NPR reporter visited, the menu was as follows: egg custard; mushroom risotto; hand-rolled rigatoni with snails; pampano roasted with a mango-saffron broth; pork osso bucco; lamb; blue-raisin chutney semolina; and for dessert - deep breath - a coffee-infused bavarian creme with bittersweet and white chocolate over a piece of buttery shortbread, covered in a blood orange jelly.
And for the record? If you want a reservation, call them tomorrow starting at 7 a.m. The first person to call that day gets the next reservation a year from now, and the process repeats itself the next day, and the next, and the next...
You can't help but really like Ellie Matthews. Ten years ago, she won the Pillsbury Bake-Off with her Salsa Couscous Chicken recipe, a blend of salsa and the flavors of Morocco.
Now she's written a book about her experiences: "The Ungarnished Truth: A Cooking Contest Memoir."
NPR's Steve Inskeep recently chatted with Matthews. Turns out, she's an unbelievably down-to-earth, sweet woman with a self-deprecating streak that you can't help but appreciate. Throughout the interview, she insists that she's not anyone special, that she "doesn't claim to be a better cook than anyone else." Typically, Matthews says, she will "buy ingredients that look good, wrestle them into a pan, and serve a meal."
"I'm not a fussy cook," Matthews said. "I don't put four different kinds of sea salt into something, or 18 different kinds of vinegar" (it could be assumed that the book title partially refers to the fact that her final recipe for the contest wasn't garnished or artfully arranged, but she won anyway).
What's more, she didn't even really seem all that impressed with the prize money. She simply enjoys cooking, and was a little disappointed when she won because she knew it would disqualify her from participating in the contest again.
As for what she did with the money? She admitted, "I'd like to think my life is just more than just what I buy on a whim or how I indulge myself," and then said that if she was, say, at a plant nursery, she could maybe splurge on a new plant for her garden.
I once whined to my mother (aka: Knower of All Things Culinary, and Go-To Person for All of Life's Quanadries) that I couldn't make a decent crepe without a crepe pan, and she waved my complaint away with her hand, insisting that while a crepe pan is nice, it's definitely not necessary.
On NPR's Kitchen Window series, we're reminded of this glorious food. Really, how can one simple butter-flour-milk mixture hold so much potential? NPR provided two simple recipes - one for a sweet crepe, and one for savory. I decided to tackle the savory one, substituting Morningstar faux chicken strips for real chicken. (The greenish blob on the top is 365 Brand Pesto - I really have to work on presentation).
As I attempted the little devils, I came to some important conclusions: 1). Let the butter soften before mixing it in the food processor. Otherwise, you will wind up with weird lumps in your batter. 2). Make sure your pan is really, really hot and really, really well-oiled. 3). If you do not like gummy, rubbery crepes, add ONLY 1/4 cup of batter and cook until the thing is lightly dotted with brown spots. 4.) If at first you don't succeed...
As you can see by the myriad conclusions, it took one or two tries before I figured it out. Granted, they aren't as good at the ones at Philly's Beau Monde, but I was pretty darn proud of myself. But if anyone has any tips for next time (I still have some batter left), please - I'm all ears!
(Oh - and mom was totally right about the pan thing).
Christiane Jory did, and was so thrilled with the outcome that she decided to write a book about her discoveries: The '99 Cent Only Stores' Cookbook. It's filled with recipes that make gourmet food out of not-so-gourmet ingredients. (This seems to be the week for 99 cent meals).
Like the NPR reporter who interviewed Jory, I'm definitely skeptical of food that comes from a 99 cent store. Yep, I'll admit it: the often-discolored cans, dented boxes, and brands I've never heard of creep me out. And if you told me you bought wine at the same place? I'd try it, but I'd cringe a little.
One of my first thoughts was, Oh, but the food is probably shipped from far-off countries and sits in warehouses for days. But Jory insists that some of the food at the stores actually comes from local farmers and distributors. Jory relies on improvised and substituted ingredients - evaporated milk instead of cartons of milk, canned veggies instead of fresh - to achieve a tasty meal at a low cost.
I have to say, Jory definitely encouraged me to look for food in different places, and be open to new ideas. The only thing that turned me off was the health aspect. Canned foods and refrigerated croissants can be easy and tasty, but they're not the most nutritious. Maybe next time I pass a Dollar Tree, I'll look around for bargains, but I don't think I would make it my primary source of food. Would you
Fennel is reliable. It's reliable-looking, for one: it sits on a sturdy, bulbous base and boasts welcoming green fronds and, if in the wild, tiny yellow flowers. It also possesses a reliable flavor: it'll welcome you back each time you use it, comfortable, secure, and unwavering in its flavor. And finally, you can rely on fennel for its multipurpose u, as a feature or an accent to your other foods.
Its History
Fennel is a perennial herb that's grown mainly in the Mediterranean and India. First referred to as "marathon" by the ancient Greeks and later used against witchcraft in medieval times, fennel is high in Vitamin C, potassium, and dietary fiber. Fennel's flavor, a distinct liquorice, comes from the anethole compound, which is also found in anise and star anise, which is why one is often mistaken for the other. The one you'll find most often in your local supermarket is known as florence fennel.
Its Uses
Fennel is primarily used either for its "bulb," a tightly-grouped bunch of leaves (large shards are pulled off to be used in soups or salads), its fronds (sprinkled onto salads and entrees as an accent) and as an herb to flavor dishes in its seed form. It is also one of the primary ingredients in absinthe. Even the pollen from fennel's delicate yellow flowers are used in cooking, though they are quite expensive. It is often used as a breath freshener, and is said to have medicinal qualities, used for everything from preventing jaundice to aiding digestion (it can be used as a diuretic) to staunching coughs.
So much so, in fact, that he wrote a book about it: Banana: The Fate of the Fruit that Changed the World.
In an interview on Fresh Air, Koeppel explained that bananas are facing an epidemic that could, in a matter of decades, wipe out the fruit as we know it. For most of us, this would be a tragedy, considering that Americans eat more bananas per year than apples and oranges combined.
But what's killing them? Koeppel told host Terry Gross that the fruit is being struck by a fungus called Panama Disease, which is incurable and has been known to wipe out banana plantations in a few years. Unfortunately, the bananas that are falling susceptible to the disease are ones that were previously thought to be resistant. Oops.
The main reason that bananas are falling prey, Koeppel says, is because the cavendish bananas that are eaten in America, China, and Europe are essentially clones of one another. Each banana is genetically identical to the one next to it, so if a disease strikes one, it strikes them all.
These and other equally pressing questions were answered recently when Cookie Monster (and Cheryl Henson, Muppet creator Jim Hensen's daughter) were interviewed for NPR as part of the station's "In Character" series. Henson revealed that Cookie Monster's large black mouth is actually a hole in the puppet costume, where most of the food is deposited (directly on top of the puppeteer's head). The rest is mashed into crumbs and flies around his head during his frenzied eating.
Cookie was asked several questions similar to the format adapted by Inside the Actors' Studio host James Lipton. We've summarized them here for you, using actual quotes from Cookie himself, to reveal just a little bit more about what goes on inside that big furry blue head of his.
Favorite word: COOKIE! Ahahaha....What did you expect? Least favorite word: "OUT OF COOKIES! Does that count? Okay...how about pusillanimous?" What sound/noise do you love: "Anumumumum!" (the noise that he makes as he's devouring cookies) What sound/noise do you hate: Snoring. Favorite curse word: "Well, me have favorite dirty word: Oscar the Grouch! That is one dirty word." Who would you like to see on a new bank note? "Bert. Me think he'd look really nice there, just the shape of Bert's head would fit nicely in the center of the bill." What profession would you least like to try? Ophthalmology If you were reincarnated as another animal, what would you like it to be? A Snuffulupagus. If heaven exists, what you like to hear God say when you arrive at the pearly gates? "COWABUNGA!"
Tired of reading about eating local? Mad that your friends are going on and on about the provenance of the sage leaves (heirlooms from my own garden, they are!) on the gourmet dinner they served you? Really sick of hearing about your college roommate's new chicken coop? Well, you may not be, but NPR commentator Amy Stewart, is.
In a piece that seemed more bitter than escarole picked past its prime, Stewart takes America to task for its focus on the word, concept, and media conglomerate behind "locavores." (In case you missed it, "locavore" was selected as the 2007 word of the year by The New Oxford American Dictionary.) She says local eating is just "another symptom of our deeply troubled relationship with food" and "our obsession with local food has gone far enough ... we have heaped all our fears and anxieties onto the dinnerplate." Umm... isn't that the whole idea of the local eating "obsession"? Isn't it that we've ignored our dinner plates too long? I thought that reconnecting with our food supply and caring about animal rights (not so much for the animals' sake as for our very health and life, mind you -- poor treatment of animals and vegetables is thought to be responsible for the majority of often-deadly foodborne illnesses we confront) was completely the point.
It sounds to me as if Amy Stewart is a little peeved she didn't get a book deal to pay for her groceries for a year.
One of the podcasts I subscribe to is Hidden Kitchens, produced by the Kitchen Sisters (Davia Nelson & Nikki Silva). Typically what happens to me with podcasts is that I let them build up for a while and then I go through a binge, listening to one after another. This is what happened while I was sitting in the Chicago airport around 5 am on Sunday morning, waiting for my connecting flight that would get me back in Philly. I was looking for something entertaining and interesting and so started listening to the back log of Hidden Kitchen episodes on the pod.
I listened to several episodes, but there was one in there that I think that every food lover should check out. Originally aired in October 2007, this one is all about the invention of the Frito. It is fascinating because it consists almost entirely of interviews with the daughters of the man who innovated Fritos. He was something of a health food evangelist and was trying to create a side dish, not a snack/junk food. It is an interesting listen and made my wait in the airport far more interesting than it could have been.
Yesterday in our Thanksgving extravaganza, we offered options on Thanksgiving themed cocktails, drinks that could pass as dessert and a flavored vodka that probably wasn't such a good idea. However, you may still be looking for some things to serve with your turkey dinner. In my family, we tend to go for an assortment of sparkling apple ciders, supplemented by any wine that a guest might bring with them.
For those of you out there with slightly more elevated palates who are looking for some beverage recommendations that are more sophisticated that Martinelli's, here are some spots to check out. Over on NPR's Kitchen Window, Cyrus Musiker writes about a Thanksgiving trial run that he and his wife did a few weeks back. He focuses on American wines and comes up with a substantial lists of wines that work with a turkey dinner with all the trimmings.
I mentioned this on Wednesday in my New York Times Dining and Wine round up, but Eric Asimov did a fun article this week about a tasting he did with some of the NYT food folks. They also embrace the idea that since it is an American holiday the wines should be domestic and they come up with some delicious-sounding selections. If you are planning to eat out on Thanksgiving and would like to order a bottle to go with your meal, but feel intimated by wine service, then over at KQED's blog Bay Area Bites where Michael Procopio posted an article about behave during the wine service dance.
I have a radio in my bathroom that is plugged into an outlet in the light fixture. This means that every time you turn the light on, the radio comes on as well. My friends know this about my apartment and so don't get startled when they go into use my bathroom. However, it tends to freak strangers out. This evening I went in to wash my hands and found myself standing there a full ten minutes later, although I had needed but 30 seconds to finish the task at hand.
The reason I got stuck in the bathroom? This story, playing on NPR's All Things Considered about the Great Harvest Bread Company and the people who own the franchises of the company. The main company encourages their franchises to be creative and innovation in their stores and in turn, the store owners seemed to find great satisfaction in the work that they did. If you have a few minutes, it is definitely worth a listen.
Everyone loves to taste and smell and experience food. And rightly so; it can be a very visceral experience. But to me, it's just as enjoyable to hear about food. To hear someone describe a great meal can be almost as satisfying as eating it myself (with none of the calories). I love discovering different words and terms and metaphors to describe my food. I love hearing beer described as "woody" or "nutty" or "golden." And I love the actual sounds that food makes when you play with it - crackling, bubbling, snapping. 
You can't help but really like Ellie Matthews. Ten years ago, she won the Pillsbury Bake-Off with her Salsa Couscous Chicken recipe, a blend of salsa and the flavors of Morocco. 
Tired of reading about eating local? Mad that your friends are going on and on about the provenance of the sage leaves (heirlooms from my own garden, they are!) on the gourmet dinner they served you? Really sick of hearing about your college roommate's new chicken coop? Well, you may not be, but 
May is National BBQ Month and National Hamburger Month
Cupcakes, not for dessert (unless beef is your idea of a treat)
Because eating French Fries in the car is so tough
