Heirloom panzanella salad. Photo: YumSugar

Each Thursday, we round up a selection of scrumptious links from our friends over at YumSugar. Here's what they've got cooking this week:

Heirloom tomatoes get thrown into a tasty summer panzanella.

The addictive qualities of Neapolitan-style mac and cheese from Lidia Bastianich.

A discussion of the insanity that is Brian Boitano's new cooking show.

Toll House cookie dough is back after that E. coli scare.

A rundown of the wackiest-named dishes cooked up by Rachael Ray.

Planks of corn on the cob get the salad treatment.

Do you love or hate gelatin?

From 60 Ways to Serve Ham (1930), Armour and Company

I'm interrupting the semi-regularly scheduled Midnight Sausage series to share molded food images and recipes from my personal collection of early-to-mid 20th century cookbooks. There will be aspic. There will be mousse. There will be various gelatins. All will be semi-solid and of debatable degrees of edibility.

Please feel free to shimmy and shake your way to the comments section to share your very own magical, masticable molds of yore.

Previously - Jellied Veal Salad

From Good Dishes from Tinned Food (1939), Ambrose Heath

I'm interrupting the semi-regularly scheduled Midnight Sausage series to share molded food images and recipes from my personal collection of early-to-mid 20th century cookbooks. There will be aspic. There will be mousse. There will be various gelatins. All will be semi-solid and of debatable degrees of edibility.

Please feel free to shimmy and shake your way to the comments section to share your very own magical, masticable molds of yore.

Previously - Jellied Veal Salad

From The Heinz Book of Meat Cookery (1930), HJ Heinz Company

I'm interrupting the semi-regularly scheduled Midnight Sausage series to share molded food images and recipes from my personal collection of early-to-mid 20th century cookbooks. There will be aspic. There will be mousse. There will be various gelatins. All will be semi-solid and of debatable degrees of edibility.

Please feel free to shimmy and shake your way to the comments section to share your very own magical, masticable molds of yore.

Previously - Vegetable Supper Salad

From The Silent Hostess Treasure Book (1931), Knox Gelatine

I'm interrupting the semi-regularly scheduled Midnight Sausage series to share molded food images and recipes from my personal collection of early-to-mid 20th century cookbooks. There will be aspic. There will be mousse. There will be various gelatins. All will be semi-solid and of debatable degrees of edibility.

Please feel free to shimmy and shake your way to the comments section to share your very own magical, masticable molds of yore.

Previously - Brain Loaf

From Dainty Desserts for Dainty People (1915), Knox Gelatine

I'm interrupting the semi-regularly scheduled Midnight Sausage series to share molded food images and recipes from my personal collection of early-to-mid 20th century cookbooks. There will be aspic. There will be mousse. There will be various gelatins. All will be semi-solid and of debatable degrees of edibility.

Please feel free to shimmy and shake your way to the comments section to share your very own magical, masticable molds of yore.

Previously - Brain Loaf

From Cooking with Soup (1968), A Campbell's Cookbook

I'm interrupting the semi-regularly scheduled Midnight Sausage series to share molded food images and recipes from my personal collection of early-to-mid 20th century cookbooks. There will be aspic. There will be mousse. There will be various gelatins. All will be semi-solid and of debatable degrees of edibility.

Please feel free to shimmy and shake your way to the comments section to share your very own magical, masticable molds of yore.

Previously - Jellied Bouillon with Frankfurters

From 500 Snacks: Bright Ideas for Entertaining (1941), Culinary Arts Institute

I'm interrupting the semi-regularly scheduled Midnight Sausage series to share molded food images and recipes from my personal collection of early-to-mid 20th century cookbooks. There will be aspic. There will be mousse. There will be various gelatins. All will be semi-solid and of debatable degrees of edibility.

Please feel free to shimmy and shake your way to the comments section to share your very own magical, masticable molds of yore.

Previously - Corned Tongue in Aspic

From Dainty Desserts for Dainty People (1915), Knox Gelatine

I'm interrupting the semi-regularly scheduled Midnight Sausage series to share molded food images and recipes from my personal collection of early-to-mid 20th century cookbooks. There will be aspic. There will be mousse. There will be various gelatins. All will be semi-solid and of debatable degrees of edibility.

Please feel free to shimmy and shake your way to the comments section to share your very own magical, masticable molds of yore.

Previously - Ham Mousse

Have you heard of molecular mixology? I hadn't until recently, but apparently it's moving from the high end bars to your kitchen, according to Forbes.com.

According to the article "molecular mixology, the method takes scientific principles and tools and applies them to the construction of alcoholic beverages." Gelatin, flames, freezing and flavored simple syrups are all a very big part of molecular mixology. There are generally a lot of steps involved, so prep time is high, but apparently these beverages translate well to home preparation, except the most "wildly dangerous" of course.

I don't know about you, but if I'm making cocktails at home, they're going to have to be simple. Anything with a lot of prep time can stay at the bar, as far as I'm concerned. Would you put a lot of time into drinks at home?

This is Liz. She's an artist who works in a very delicious medium; Jell-O.

In this particular clip, she shows how she fashions San Francisco's entire Mission District out of the gelatin dessert.

The process is simple, but tedious: Liz takes pictures of the District, and then uses the photos to build molds out of balsa wood and foam core. Then, she builds silicone rubber molds around the sculptures, and when they dry, she makes the Jell-O and lets it set in the molds.

(Oh, and Liz makes Jell-O the way us normal people do, but sometimes she adds additional coloring to make the sculpture more vibrant). She also sprinkles dry Jell-O around the model to represent streets and parks).

One caveat about working with Jell-O (besides the overwhelming urge to consume your sculptures, of course) has to be the fact that eventually, it gets moldy.

But instead of letting that ruin her work, Liz uses the moldiness as a metaphor for change and adaptation within urban areas.

It seems that the scene will soon be exploding with new restaurants. In a special section, the New York Times covers the coming restaurants.

• Some restaurants will be headed by star chefs, others are opening elsewhere, but originated in NY, and really, there are just too many to count.
• The new vibe in restaurants is casual and cool
• Why does it take so long (and so much heartache) to get a restaurant to open?
• Critic Frank Bruni takes a dive into fish-heavy Soto
• Go! Go! Curry keeps it real with Japanese comfort food
• But it's not all just about restaurants. For the home kitchen, Mark Bittman does a paella and Harold McGee explains gelatin filtration

When I first came across the idea of nailing Jello to a wall, I thought it was pretty funny. Strange, but funny. Now that an alert reader has pointed out to me that this was not an isolated incident and that many people out there devote time to the very same thing, I have to admit that I am a little disturbed.

My Science Project has taken their love for all things Jello and conducted a study into the "feasibility of securing Jell-O to a vertical surface by means of manually impacted cylindrical metal fasteners." In other words, they attempted to nail jello to a wall. They tried the standard recipe, jello with holes molded into it, jello with straw supports and jello with fruit. The best recipe was one they termed "ballistic jello," which involved about an ounce of gelatin in 2 cups of water.

I'm thinking that this challenge could be some sort of a party game. Possibly at the same types of parties that serve lots and lots of jello shots early in the evening.

[thanks, Eric]

No, I'm not the Bob in the name of this dessert, but I did see Paula Deen make it on the Food Network special All Star Holiday Gifts the other night, and I'm going to make it for Christmas this year. It looked so easy that for a second there I actually thought that she had forgotten a step in the process, but this is Paula Deen we're talking about, so let's get real.

Il Buddino are single-serving sized molds that are shaped like little Buddhas. The small, flexible molds hold 125mL each and come in sets of four with one of each of the colors shown above. To use them, simply suspend the mold upside down in a glass of any kind (not included) and fill with pudding, gelatin, mousse or ice cream and freeze or refrigerate before serving. Turn the pudding out onto a plate, squeezing the mold slightly to release it, once it has thoroughly chilled. The molds are microwave and dishwasher safe, but not oven safe, so you won't be able to bake any Buddha cakes with these, but they will make a fantastic presentation the next time you're entertaining. Order here.

[via Moco Loco]