Cook's Illustrated!

Sadie at Jezebel just posted on the merits and pitfalls of Cook's Illustrated. As I eat my take-out lunch I'm pondering whether spending many hours on a particular dish makes it taste better. Right now I'm thinking yes. When I eat home-cooked food I find that I think about the labor involved as I eat. This enhances my experience. I can critique the food all I want - in fact I'm often disappointed in my cooking, but knowing how and why something is delicious or mediocre is all part of the fun. Which is why I think Cook's Illustrated has such passionate readers. You don't commit to even reading their featured recipes unless you have the time to contemplate why the recipe will work for you or not. I think there has to be some backstory in your cooking. Why did you choose the recipe in the first place? CI approaches that question fairly honestly. Why spend four hours on lasagna if you weren't interested in the journey?

R.I.P. Grandpa Jim

Just a quick post to honor my Grandpa Jim who passed away yesterday. I would like to thank him for making perfect fried egg sandwiches. He had simple tastes and a big heart. I will miss him like crazy.

The Late-Night Lobster: Dining In vs Eating Out

My lovely and amazing friend Bex returned to Los Angeles from Cape Cod late last night bearing a delightful package containing two feisty crustaceans. The Boyfriend and I had been talking about having a lobster dinner for awhile but as we were both out-of-work for most of Fall and Winter it just wasn't financially feasible. Fast forward to spring: Lo and behold we have both secured employment! We made preparations to find a lobster dinner at a restaurant somewhere in Santa Monica to celebrate our renewed solvency. Unfortunately, for all the seafood restaurants along the coast in SoCal most are not big on whole, live lobster so our pickings were slim. My theory is that people are happier with a previously frozen lobster tail next to their steak because it's less messy than cracking a whole crustacean. Or maybe it's just the recession minimizing demand.

Bex reminded me that lobster was cheap and plentiful in her native New England and that she was about to embark on a week-long trip home. Would I like her to bring a few back for me? Um... Yes!

The Boyfriend and I decided to do a compare and contrast. Lobster In vs Lobster Out. We settled on the appropriately named The Lobster on the Santa Monica Pier for our Lobster Out. We shared a $75 3lb grilled lobster. They kindly split the behemoth in two for us so we could each have our own plate with a claw and half a tail. While it was nice to have a glass of chilled Sancerre while I tore in to my lobster it all felt a bit overblown. The lobster meat itself was tasty if a bit dry, a hint of smokiness from the grill playing off the subtly seasoned butter it had been brushed with. But here we were in the midst of a restaurant I would describe as California Elegant (business casual anyone?) and we were covered in butter and lobster juice. Something just didn't feel quite right as I tried to delicately crack my one lobster claw while trying to avoid elbowing the woman in a silk blouse crammed in next to me who was dining on halibut with sauteed pea shoots.

It was a far cry from the lobster experience I had the summer of 1988 in Newport, Rhode Island. My Aunt Kitty took my Mom and I down to a waterfront lobster shack where you picked your just-caught lobster from the holding tank and it was quickly boiled for you and unceremoniously dumped on a tarp covered picnic table along with some corn and potatoes. There everyone wore a bib and no one drank white wine. You were encouraged to suck out every last morsel from the small legs and to really put some elbow grease into your meal. It was a casual family affair that lasted all afternoon.

Hoping to re-live my eight year-old self's vision of lobster happiness I was thrilled when Bex arrived on our doorstep at 10:30 pm with two 1.5lb live lobsters straight from New England that cost a modest $35. I had the salted water boiling with a bay leaf and half a lemon thrown in. Bruce the cat greeted our late-night lobsters with a curiosity and eagerness that belied his desire to have one to himself after they were cooked. After 15 minutes at a brisk boil The Boyfriend and I covered the table in brown paper bags from the market and gave in to our lobster lust. We ate with abandon as the cat looked on, pawing at us in the hopes that we would toss a morsel his way. With some lemon wedges and clarified butter on the side, sitting at our own table, the Lobster In won the day.

What do you eat when there is "no food in the house"?

I have to go emergency shopping today! I missed the Farmer's Market last weekend. It throws my whole week off when that happens. I always end up running out of eggs mid-week and finding that I have no fresh fruit left by Friday.

Last night my sweetheart came home late from work hungry and tired and I realized that our cupboards were (almost) bare. I made due with some brussels sprouts of questionable vintage roasted in a cast iron skillet with a small spoon full of bacon fat and then tossed with pasta. It wasn't half bad for a see-what-happens kind of meal.

I was faced with the same dilemma this morning... No milk, no yogurt, no eggs! And then it hit me: Peanut butter and jelly. Classic. Filling. Yum. This morning's version consisted of sprouted rye toast with crunchy, salted peanut butter, apricot jam and a light sprinkling of hot red pepper. Served with Genmaicha tea and some sunshine in the garden... Now off to the store!

Meat your Maker?

The NYTimes just ran a story on raising rabbits for meat. Ending the life of an animal you are going to eat is a sacred thing. I've done it before and it's not for the faint of heart. I find it interesting that only a few generations ago people almost exclusively raised and slaughtered their own animals and now most meat comes pre-packaged and ready to cook - denatured.

My neighbors raised ducks and chickens last year. We got used to hearing the ducks in the morning. The big white quackers chanting, "mmaaaackkkk-mackmackmack" was a delightful alarm clock and we were sad when they were slaughtered. It suddenly seemed so quiet. But we were also jealous because the family certainly enjoyed eating their "patas."

We don't eat a lot of meat these days. Once in awhile we grill some lamb or a steak. I hesitate to buy chicken most of the time unless we are planning to use a whole bird - liver, bones and all. Preparing meat takes a commitment. I just can't get behind skinless-boneless chicken breasts. I feel lazy when I prepare them. When I was younger I couldn't tolerate skin and bones, preferring my meat to be as far from it's original form as possible. As an adult I've come around, sometimes even frying the skin separately after I've roasted a chicken so we can snack on it.

The NYTimes article made me think about the possibility of raising my own meat here in Atwater... Will I? Honestly, probably not, two cats and a new puppy have me quite busy enough with the animal kingdom. I know that backyard animal husbandry takes time and attention that I don't have. I must admit though, eating a chicken (or rabbit) that I raised is an attractive prospect. I would like to think that it would taste better than anything I've had before. Creating a relationship with an animal and honoring it in it's death for our sustenance would be a blessing.

“Hello, I’m the Snackbot”

In these globally cash-strapped times it seems odd to entertain the thought of paying $100,000 for a pair of chef-bots to prepare you that mac n cheese you crave at the end of a long day, but having your very own Rosie The Robot might not be too far off.

"Dr. Heather Knight, a roboticist at the NASA Jet Propulsion Laboratory, said that the industry is trying to change “the perception of robots.”... (P)articularly in the West, there’s this whole Frankenstein thing that if we try to make something in the image of man, to make a new creature, we’re stealing the role of God, and it’s going to turn out wrong because that’s not our role,” she said. “So how do you change this perception that robots are going to be way too intelligent and destroy us? One of the fastest ways to people’s hearts is food, right?"

For many, Food=Love, and by manufacturing nourishment an object is rendered trustworthy. In terms of marketing it is a clever approach. Trust in technology, though not necessarily boundless, is often blind until some sort of tacitly assumed trust is breached. I imagine that for the Western market branding will eventually be used to sell these robots. With bundled preparation and taste technologies consumers would be given a sense of inherent familiarity with the robots - something along the lines of a Subway or McDonalds-bot in your kitchen. Or perhaps more realistically, robots replacing human food preparers working the line at your local fast food outlet itself.

"But the real obstacle to a world full of mechanized sous-chefs and simulated rage-filled robo-Gordon Ramsays may be something much harder to fake: none of these robots can taste.

Keizo Shimamoto, who writes a blog on ramen noodles and has eaten at Famen, the two-robot Japanese restaurant, said that the establishment was “kind of dead” when he ate there last year. Though the owner said that people do taste the food, according to Mr. Shimamoto, “It was a little disappointing."

And there is the rub. For many current real-world applications robotics are not up to the task - someone has to taste the broth and correct the seasoning. With unemployment at an all time high I'm sure this technology will have to sit on the sidelines, though I will be watching carefully to see if anyone at the In N Out looks like an android next time I want some fries.

(NYT)

Cosmic Coconut Pudding Y'all

Elizabeth Barker of nogoodforme.com came over to the Faben test kitchen and we cooked up a storm, a veritable blizzard of pudding if you will. Nom.

Out-of-season, In my heart (and belly)...

It's Friday. It's noon-ish. I should probably be working on something, like my reel... But no, it's time to make a strawberry clafoutis!

I went to the Atwater Farmer's Market many days ago now and was taken in by the lurid siren song of the strawberries. It's February and anyone with any common sense knows that strawbs are a summer treat. Temporal disconnect aside I couldn't help myself in that Sunday-morning-pre-strong-tea-and-milk moment. I was at a Farmer's Market after all... Could they have been shipped in from Mexico? I banished the thought. Judge me all you like. They smelled good, I sampled one - sweet strawberry-ness. Pure June. I bought a 3-pack.

I have been eating strawberries for days. Strawberries with aged Gouda. Strawberries with ricotta. Strawberries with Russian yogurt. They were tart and sweet and juicy and lovely. I have one box left. I am almost strawberried-out, god help me.

So strawberry clafoutis it is. Part custard, part cake, all deliciousness.

Everyone's favorite sauce!

Breakfast at the desk... again. Sweet rice, minced ginger, umeboshi, Sriracha. My employer's daughter's take on it: "You awe siwwy!" (She's 2 1/2). She likes banana yogurt for breakfast. While I could get behind that on a lazy-weekend-brunch kind of day, it's not going to cut it when I have 10 hours to knock out four cuts from scratch and I'm barely awake, even after the commute. I'm living dangerously. Give me the hot sauce.