Inquiries in Food

Peanut Butter and Pickle Sandwiches

Wed, 15 May 2013 15:46:00 -0700

Christ, its been a while. Sorry for not posting for a while, but school got crazy, because enrolling for two upper level English classes and a 200-level History was the greatest idea ever. But I’m not here to gripe about how stupid my life decisions are.

Instead, you all get to hear about the latest food trend. Actually, its not really that recent, it’s been around for years, but is only now beginning to gain a bit more popularity in the lower rungs of the food scene. The PB&P: Peanut butter and Pickle. In retrospect, I didn’t have to build up to the reveal as much as I did: the name of the sandwich is in the fucking title.My friend, Paisha, is responsible for alerting me to the presence of this magnificent sandwich. I greeted the news with skepticism. But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense.

PB&J is such a success because of the viscerally pleasing balance of creamy and fruity. But this balance can be achieved by taking the “fruity” out of the equation and adding pickles. They elevate the sandwich in a few key ways: texture, sweetness balance, acidity, and structure. There’s something about the crunch of a pickle that’s always satisfying. Especially in a sandwich that is otherwise devoid of texture, or rather, in a sandwich with the distinct texture of wallpaper paste, the snap of a pickle is welcome to remind yourself that, yes, this is grown-up food you’re eating. Textural contrast has always been important to me, which is why I couldn’t bring myself to eat a PB&J without some chips handy to stave of the feeling that I was just shoving globs of food product down my throat. The counterpoint to this crunch, however, is the soft flesh of the pickle. It almost creates its own jelly, which is very fun and, again, a nice contrast because the pickle jelly is not as mushy and formless as actual jelly. Sweetness balance was another thing that got to me. Peanut butter on its own isn’t terribly sweet, but when you combine it with jelly, the sugar in the peanut butter is much more prominent. I have an issue with too much sugar; it’s insulting to my palette. The pickle in a PB&P is nice because it balances the flavors. With a pickle, you get the sour component that is severely lacking in a PB&J. There is still the underlying sweetness from the peanut butter, but it plays a smaller part, as an accent instead of the main focus. The pickle also brings a nice amount of acidity to the party, which elevates the sandwich from being a stupid mess of glop to a sophisticated sandwich (if one can call this crack ship of ingredients sophisticated). Without this acidity, the top notes of the peanut butter are completely lost. It’s amazing how much a little kick of acidity will awaken your senses, especially with such a simple sandwich. Of course, the pickle also helps with the structural integrity of the sandwich. Remember how PB&J’s are always flopping around and oozing their filling all over the place? They’re messier than Paris Hilton on elephant tranquilizers. With the addition of the pickle, there is less amorphous globs of food to fall out. In fact, they stabilize the sandwich a bit, with the peanut butter acting as a thin layer of glue to keep the pickles safely in place.

Now that I’ve told you why a PB&P is awesome, you should be warned: this is not a sandwich you can take a lot of liberties with. It isn’t meant to be made with gourmet peanut butter, rye bread, and gherkins. This sandwich requires a few key things, the most important of which is the pickle. Dills get confusing, and even though they are delicious, they mess with the flavor too much. Use bread and butter pickles. I can’t stress this enough: any other pickle will pale in comparison to the bread and butter for this use. They are what really makes the PB&P the delicious sandwich that it is. White bread is important too: wheat bread, crusty bread, any other type of bread will be fine, but it won’t quite work. There’s something quintessentially white trash about slapping together a few pieces of Wonderbread. Any cheap loaf of white bread, honestly the cheaper and shittier the better, will be great for this sandwich. See that sad looking loaf of Kroger bread that nobody else is touching? Buy that! Although this sandwich is forgiving with peanut butter choices, I do recommend creamy peanut butter. Jif or Skippy, preferably, but if you can find something even more low-brow, go for it. This is not the place to whip out your gourmet stuff that you got from some guy named Damian from the specialty market. Don’t be choosy; use Jif.

At the end of this, you will end up with an excellent sandwich. I will leave a disclaimer: you will either love it or hate it. I got a bunch of my friends to try it, and a little more than half of them hated it, but that’s just because my friends don’t like pickles. I know, they’re terrible people, and I’ve been telling them that forever, but they just don’t understand the glory of the PB&P. But if you’re a person with a soul (i.e. likes pickles), I have a hunch this will be your new thing for a while. It certainly was for me.

Coup de Tart

Mon, 11 Mar 2013 14:16:32 -0700

I have some big news. My short story is getting published in my college’s literary review. It’s not the the biggest thing ever, but its pretty cool. Over the past six months, I’ve been writing and editing a story called “Coup de Tart” which is a kitchen noir story. It has no literary value, no symbolism, no deeper meaning, and absolutely no purpose. It’s just a really fun story about a guy who works in a kitchen getting involved with the mafia. I like to think of it as pioneering the genre of kitchen fiction, but that’s probably getting ahead of myself. Before it gets published though, I want to give you a sneak peak. Once its published, I will post a link to the whole story, or at least a link to a place where you can buy the story. Enjoy!

“Who is the money from?” she asked. She wanted me to give up Frank’s part in all this. No fucking way. I liked my job, and I liked Frank.

“I’m just the errand boy,” I said. The FDA woman turned her back to me and paced the room. Nobody said a word—all was still except her heels clacking along the floor. She spun around, a melon baller in one hand and a dough hook in the other.

“You know, I used to work for a fish supplier. You learn pretty quickly how to gut a fish in that environment. Sometimes we had so many fish, there weren’t enough knives to go around. We used all sorts of tools: spades, ice picks, combs. I once cleaned a fish with a melon baller and a dough hook. It was the easiest fish I’ve ever cleaned. These are still my tools of choice for any kind of gutting,” said the FDA woman. She held the dough hook close to my chest as the dishwasher sobbed next to me.

There was a knock at the door. One of the chefs went to answer it. As he walked to the door, I looked back at the flustered dishwasher who had all but curled into a ball. Agent Dubois was looking him up and down with her tiny, pigeon-like eyes. Her neck fat rolled over the collar of her shirt in the most intimidating way. As the chef opened the door, a flood of line cooks wielding kitchen utensils burst in.

"But criticism, real criticism, is essentially the exercise of [curiosity]. It obeys an instinct..."

Mon, 04 Mar 2013 23:55:05 -0800

“But criticism, real criticism, is essentially the exercise of [curiosity]. It obeys an instinct prompting it to try to know the best that is known and thought in the world, irrespectively of practice, politics, and everything of the kind.”

- Matthew Arnold, The Function of Criticism at the Present Time 1864

I never reblog, but this feeds both my love of food and my love...

Mon, 04 Mar 2013 00:20:31 -0800

I never reblog, but this feeds both my love of food and my love of literature. If I could like something a thousand times, I would like this a thousand times. Thank you, Emma, for sharing this. It made my night. Also, I’m so glad that there are people out there who know the amazingness that is Banoffee Pie.

Going Green

Sat, 02 Mar 2013 21:51:31 -0800

I’ve often wondered whether organic foods really make a difference. My hipster friends love to tell me that it makes a dramatic difference, and that organic is the only way to go. Some of my more cynical friends would have me believe that labeling something “organic” is mostly a conspiracy thought up by the evil grocery stores to get me to pay double for a product that isn’t much different from its non-organic counterpart. Is there any truth to buying organic? Has the foodie revolution gotten us all hyped up to the point where we are willing to shell out extra money just to “feel good”?

These questions, along with many other unrelated and unimportant ones, have been keeping me awake at night. Or maybe its just that my roommate snores like a walrus. But damnit, I want to be melodramatic and hyperbolic, so we’ll go with organic food keeping me up at night. I devised a test that would prove whether organic food made any difference or not. Using four different foods (apples, lettuce, carrots, and eggs), I began to research health benefits of organic food. Apparently, the jury is still out on that verdict. Stanford recently did a meta-analysis of a lot of data gathered over the years from studies about organic food, and found that organic food has only a few relatively negligible benefits. But Mark Bittman, a very highly regarded food writer, has some differences of opinion and largely discounts the findings of this study. I’m still not sure what to believe. It’s at least apparent that there is no clear answer, and if the consensus is so mixed, there is probably a lot more that needs to be tested, analyzed, and reported. We are not close to having a definitive answer, but there seems to be a tentative “yes, organic food is better for you” from the science community, although it’s particularly hard to figure out what the benefits are specifically.

My own test had nothing to do with health. For those of you who know my lifestyle choices (lots of food, plenty of meat, little exercise, sleep deprivation, etc.), this will come as no surprise. What I really wanted to know was if organic food made a definitive qualitative difference in flavor. I used an organic and a non-organic version of each food. In the interest of fairness, I didn’t tell my test subjects which sample was which.

Oddly enough, the non-organic apple was preferred. Apparently, it was more flavorful, firmer, and had a thicker peel, while the organic apple was a bit softer, lighter in flavor, and had a peel that was barely noticeable texturally. However, it was well past the peak of apple season when this study was conducted, so it was not too surprising the non-organic won. Naturally, the non-organic apples you see in the store are designed to be harvested at odd times of the year, kept for long periods of time, and be firmer. For some reason, Americans like their fruit firm, before it gets the chance to ripen at all. That was the highest praise for the organic actually—it was perfectly ripe and juicy, although it had a lighter flavor.

Carrots were completely different. The organic was an easy winner. Non-organic carrots, predictably, have a grainy, stringy texture as opposed to the firm crunch of the organic carrot. Another aspect of the organic carrot was its depth of flavor; it was described as peppery, sweet, and even perfumy. Even though the non-organic carrot got the nod for tasting more earthy, it tasted more dirty earthy than clean earthy. My test subjects did inform me, however, that they would not bother buying organic if they were going to cook with the carrots. For eating raw, organic carrots were the favorite, with about half of my test subjects saying they would spring for organic if eating raw carrots.

Lettuce was equally easy. Yes, you guessed it, organic won. The reasons were similar to the carrots, namely that the organic lettuce had a firmer, better texture and much more depth of flavor. What really surprised me was that the non-organic lettuce was described as acidic and sour. One of my tasters even commented, “This doesn’t taste like it should be food.” Well put anonymous taster. Smell was another factor that was fairly decisive, with the organic having lots of fragrance, and the non-organic smelling distinctly like the plastic bag it was wrapped in.

Eggs were easy. Organic eggs taste fresher, and they have a generally firmer texture. The yolk is where it made a big difference. With the same amount of cooking time, the yolks of the non-organic eggs had hardened considerably more and had even become mealy. Someone commented, “It tastes like the inside of a refrigerator.” By comparison, the organic egg had plenty of clean, eggy flavor. The yolk was even bigger and much more flavorful.

So the jury may still be out on this one; I don’t think my study will be picked up by Universities or the Associated Press anytime soon despite how exhaustively I tested every piece of organic food I could afford and store for a day or two in my room. In general, I think it was a success, with most people preferring organic food, especially when its in season and fresh. But even though the organic was preferred, a smaller proportion of my testers said they would actually be willing to pay extra for organic food. Save it for the special occasions I guess. Practically, maybe organic is only good in some situations. But I definitely think its worth it for those few situation where you would really miss it. Next time you make a salad, just try using some organic lettuce. Or when you fry your next egg, use a fresh organic egg. You’ll notice a difference, and you tongue will thank you.

Addendum: I realize its been a month since I’ve actually posted. School is extremely busy, and I’ve been funneling my energy into writing papers and not falling behind. I can’t make any promises about updates and posts until I’m done with this semester, so all I can say is bear with me. Also, sorry about the distinct lack of pictures. Taking pictures of a few cut up foods laying on top of my mini fridge is not the most appealing, and quite honestly I forgot to take any pictures. I know, bad food writer. Have no fear; in the time that I’ve not been able to sit down and properly write an article, I’ve accumulated more than a few ideas for when I actually do have time.

Ratatouille

Thu, 31 Jan 2013 19:51:00 -0800

God, I’m really terrible at getting posts out on time lately. My work load is rather large this semester, and I don’t expect it to let up. I will try to be more punctual about my posts, but when it comes right down to it, my grades take precedence. But I digress.

I’ve been in a particularly veggie mood lately, and decided to play around with making some Ratatouille. Everybody knows about Ratatouille from the Pixar movie by the same name, but in fact, that version of Ratatouille is a fancier version though up by Thomas Keller called Confit Byaldi. The truth is, Ratatouille has much humbler origins. Like many of the great comfort foods, Ratatouille came into being out of the kitchens of Provence. The question “what can I do with these random vegetables?” has been an important question for many impoverished cultures for centuries, and strangely enough, it has produced some of the best food known to man.

This dish is usually made by stewing eggplant, zucchini, bell peppers, tomatoes, onions, and garlic together in a pot for a while with some herbs (basil or marjoram usually). While this method develops great flavor, the texture leaves something to be desired. By making a sauce with the tomatoes, onions, and garlic, we can develop all the great, savory flavor. But if we saute the other vegetables separately they will retain their freshness and texture. This allows for a dish with a wide range of flavor and textures. Ratatouille is great with anything from grilled lamb to fish. I highly recommend serving it alongside a starch of some sort, bread being the first choice.

Ingredients:

-1 medium eggplant, finely diced
-2 zucchini, finely diced
-1 green bell pepper, finely diced
-1 red bell pepper, finely diced
-1 onion, finely diced
-5 cloves of garlic, thinly sliced
-1 28 oz can of tomatoes (San Marzano if possible)
-handful of basil leaves, chiffonaded
-Kosher salt
-black pepper
-olive oil
-herbs de provence

Method:

In a medium pot over medium heat, add a bit of olive oil. Once the oil is hot, sweat the onions until translucent. Then add the garlic and saute until fragrant. Add the tomatoes and break the tomatoes with the back of a wooden spoon. Simmer over low heat for 30 minutes.

In a large skillet over medium high heat, add some olive oil. Once hot, add the zucchini and eggplant. Season with salt, pepper, and herbs de provence. Cook until tender. Set aside. Repeat the process with the bell peppers.

Add the sauteed vegetables to the sauce along with the basil and stir to incorporate and heat through. Taste and adjust for seasoning.

Table Scraps

Tue, 22 Jan 2013 13:37:34 -0800

I’m sorry I didn’t get a post up last week. I’ve been busy and had some issues I’ve had to deal with, especially with my internet connection back at college. However, that hasn’t stopped me from cooking and eating. Although nothing I’ve done is particularly noteworthy, I figure I can piecemeal together a few things I’ve been doing into a somewhat coherent and informative post. Thus, this post is called “table scraps”, as in the stuff that’s still good but didn’t quite make it into a full post.

Did you know that if something is too acidic, you can add a bit of honey and bring the acid level down. Only a teaspoon will do the trick, and you won’t taste the honey at all. It’s a much better alternative to adding dairy, which is what I usually do in a highly acidic situation. But nobody wants a vinaigrette with milk in it. Well, maybe some people do, but those are probably the same people who like unsalted potato chips, oxidized artichokes, and gray steaks. This honey trick works for everything I’ve tried. It doesn’t fight with any of the flavors, but simply takes some of the bite off.

Apparently octopus is a particularly challenging meat to cook. Unlike most other seafood, which must be treated delicately and cooked quickly, octopus is tough. It’s a meat that must be cooked slowly for a long time. It’s the brisket of the seafood world, if you will. So if you’re ever thinking about cooking octopus, which I highly recommend you try at some point, you should do a braise, or any other method that allows for long cooking time in wet heat.

Mushrooms, as I’m sure most people know, are not actually vegetables. They are fungi, which means they have a very different construction than what we’re used to. Namely, mushrooms have very porous cells with walls that can easily be broken. And how do we break down these mushrooms to concentrate flavor, extract water, and make them denser. Salt. Yes, the magical cooking all-star makes yet another appearance in the cooking world, making sure your fungi cook perfectly. Salt liberally. It may seem like a lot, but the mushrooms can take it. Remember, the salt here is more for the chemical process it plays rather than the flavor of the salt itself.

Really good sushi is more than just fish. But to realize this, you have to have eaten a lot of sushi from a lot of different places. You begin to realize that the freshness and taste of the fish is only half of the equation. Rice takes up a considerable part of the sushi experience, and can be just as important, if not more important, than the fish. Properly cooked sushi rice is an art that takes years to master. It shows true dedication and attention to detail if your sushi contains good sushi rice. I have eaten sushi where the fish was merely okay, but the rice was exceptional, and I consider that sushi to be excusable. It might even be better than sushi where the fish is good but the rice is terrible. Since sushi restaurants of varying levels pop up nearly everywhere nowadays, the rice has become my most trusted way of knowing how good a sushi place really is. That, and if they serve me sake with no questions asked.

I’ve been making a lot of stews and one pot meals in the past few weeks, usually cooking with my mum. She really likes to use a recipe, and I usually don’t so it’s a bit of a challenge for us to work together sometimes. But over the course of my winter break, I’ve started writing stew recipes on my free time because stews are amazing. All the ingredients are cheap, they’re really easy to make, and there’s something viscerally comforting about a stew. Instead of sharing some of my recipes with you though, I want to share a general method. After hashing through tons of stew recipes, a pattern appears. It’s pretty easy to pick up and riff on if you have a good sense of flavor. The method is as follows:

Sear desired cheap cut of meat in vegetable oil in a dutch oven or large pot. Once browned, set aside on a plate. Add aromatic vegetables to sweat and brown for a few minutes, then add minced garlic for another minute. Add spices and herbs and toast in the veggie mix. If you were going to make a roux, this would be the time to do it, but it is certainly not necessary. A roux, by the way, is equal parts flour and fat (oil or butter) whisked constantly until it turns the desired shade of brown. At this point, with or without roux, add a flavorful cooking liquid, like stock or wine. Bring to a boil and add meat and the meat juices from the plate, as well as any hearty, fibrous vegetables (potatoes, squash, etc.). Reduce to a simmer and cook, usually covered, until meat and vegetables are tender. Add finishing touches like an acid, fresh herbs, cream, or seafood. Serve with starch, like bread, rice, potatoes, etc.

You can do this with pretty much anything. I really like using chicken as my meat. If you feel particularly vegetarian, you can skip the meat and use mushrooms instead. The cool thing about these stews is that they age well, and flavors develop with time. After a day or two, the leftovers will taste even better than the original.

So that’s about all I can do for this week. I sincerely promise that I will have something more substantial for next week. Until then, I’m back to the old grind, eating in the college cafeteria and dreaming of the food I could be having instead.

Oysters

Mon, 07 Jan 2013 21:45:44 -0800

Dating Series part 1

There’s a short story they made us read in high school about this kid eating oysters with his father. I don’t remember much about the story other than the somewhat average description of the oysters. I do remember having to analyze the hell out of it, and I very distinctly remember how much I thought analyzing a fairly innocuous story like that was bullshit. I vaguely remember saying something about it being a metaphor for sex, and I wish I didn’t remember the looks most of my classmates and even my teacher gave me when I said it.

But seriously, oysters are very sexy. Don’t believe me? What if I told you that oysters are a natural aphrodisiac, or that popping an oyster out of its shell is like…well you get the picture. It goes further than that though. Oysters imply something luxurious, daring, and exciting. You will learn a lot about someone by feeding them some oysters. I have no doubt that relationships involving oysters last longer than relationships without oysters, although I don’t think there’s ever been a study done to confirm. I urge you to try an oyster if you ever have the chance.

While it’s all well and good to sit back like a King with a dozen oysters that have already been shucked for you, most of us can’t really afford to do that. And for something as sensuous and intimate as eating oysters, you will want to do it in the comfort of your own home as well as at nice restaurants. Shucking your own oysters is an extremely valuable skill for small parties, and especially for date nights. Shucking an oyster showcase your strength, finesse, attention to detail, and creativity. It’s a sign that you know what you’re doing. With that said, I know there are plenty of people who don’t know what they’re doing when it comes to shucking oysters. That’s presumably why you’re reading this blog post.

Before we get into shucking, we should talk about choosing the oysters. In general, you want to get oysters that are from your area of the world. If you’re from the Seattle area, like myself, get oysters from the Puget Sound. Like with all seafood, the fresher the oyster, the better and cleaner it will taste. Some of my favorites are actually Canadian oysters from Vancouver Island. It’s not easy to tell how fresh some oysters are, but you can infer a few things by seeing how they’re kept. Always look for oysters kept in cold, relatively clear water. A bit of murkiness is expected, so don’t be put off if the oysters aren’t in a pristine fish tank. Oysters kept on ice will suffice, but they stay alive longer if they can stay in water. Buy your oysters as close to service as possible, never a day in advance. Like any seafood, you want to buy it the day you eat it. I’m not going to go over storage, because you really shouldn’t be storing them for that long. As long as they’re well wrapped and in the fridge, they’ll be fine for a few hours. When you unwrap the oysters, they should still be completely shut. If any have started to open, throw them out.

For shucking, you will need a towel and an oyster knife. No, not a paring knife, a screwdriver, or any other tool. I don’t usually promote unitaskers in the kitchen, but this is one where you cannot do it with anything else. A good oyster knife should be relatively short, have a solid handle and a guard between the handle and the blade. The term “knife” is somewhat deceptive, as it doesn’t have to be sharp at all. In fact, a blunt oyster knife works really well. Why not just use a paring knife? Oysters are tough motherfuckers. They’re the Samuel L. Jackson’s of shellfish, with Gooey Ducks being the Ron Jeremy’s. An oyster will not give up easily, and you’ll have to use some force. If your hand slips, you want to keep all your fingers. The guard helps with this. A paring knife will cut your fingers, and so will an oyster shell. You can find a decent one at a kitchen supply store for not much money.

Notice that an oyster has two sides, a flat side and a rounded side. Put the rounded side down on a kitchen towel and fold the towel over to have a grip on the flat side. An oyster is shaped like a tear drop and is extremely hard to open from the round end. You have to use the pointed end, the back end of the oyster. Plant the tip of your knife in the small crack.

Wiggle until you can feel the shell starting to come off. Then take your knife and run it along the top of the shell to remove the oyster from the top shell. This will also remove the top shell.

Do not cut the oyster, poke the oyster, or otherwise inflict harm upon the oyster. Just run your knife under the oyster to separate it from the bottom Shell. Pick out any stray pieces of shell and any dirt. Some people like the brine that is naturally inside the shell with the oyster, and are perfectly happy to leave it in. If you don’t like the brine, just drain it off, and be sure to keep the oyster in tact and not disturbed. When all is said and done, the oyster meat should look natural in its shell.

Once shucked, place the oysters on a plate with a few wedges of lemon and serve immediately. If you’re doing this in advance, put the oysters on a bed of ice. You can use a fork to scoop them out, but it’s much more fun and sexy to just slurp them straight from the shell.

Oysters like this are sure to impress that special someone. And don’t worry, there will be more posts like this one to help improve your kitchen abilities on dates.

Vegetarianism

Tue, 01 Jan 2013 16:33:12 -0800

Recently, I have had a lot of questions about vegetarianism. For me, a lifelong meat eater, the concept doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. But what seems like such a simple question (Why do you not eat meat?) can be quite complex. I decided that I would try and figure out how vegetarians think. I wanted to get inside their minds, see how they really work. To be able to truly understand vegetarianism is a powerful tool, especially as someone who does food for a living. Over the course of the past few months, I’ve been interviewing vegetarians to see how they think, act, and cope with the rest of us on a daily basis, as well as doing my own research on the subject.

Vegetarianism seems pretty simple: don’t eat animals. So what’s the big deal? It turns out there are lots of disputes as to how to go about this. The main two factions, as far as I can tell, are vegetarians and vegans. Vegans take vegetarianism a bit further by not eating animal products: no dairy, no eggs, no gelatin. There are other classifications as well. Ovotarians, who are vegans but also eat eggs, lactotarians, who are vegans but also eat dairy, ovolactotarians, who are essentially just vegetarians, pescetarians, who are vegetarians that also eat fish, pollotarians, who are vegetarians that also eat poultry, pescepollotarians, who are vegetarians that also eat fish and poultry, and pescitarians, who only eat Joe Pesci. Yes, that last one was made up. Furthermore, there are some vegetarians who include odd little caveats to their eating habits, like omitting gluten, or insisting on everything they eat being raw. This is but the tip of the iceberg, and a very general classification of vegetarians solely based on diet.

Although there are some vegetarians who are simply doing it for the diet, there’s certainly a philosophy and lifestyle centered around the concept of not eating animals that many vegetarians latch onto. It certainly is not the same for everyone, but there are a few main motivational drivers that influence the extent of one’s vegetarianism.

Health seems to be the most straightforward. Many vegetarians preach that a plant based diet is healthier for you. As much as I might like to say this is false, I cannot in good conscience provide misinformation. Although a study is difficult to do on a large scale to test these claims, we can piece together information from many smaller studies to give us the pertinent information. It seems that eating a meat-heavy diet is not very healthy for humans, with dairy products following close behind in risk factor. This is not to say that meat and dairy products are bad for you. There’s plenty of evidence to substantiate claims about the benefits of eating meat and dairy, although this is usually based on a fairly reasonable test amount. Most health conscious vegetarians would tell you that Americans eat far too much meat and dairy. Some say we shouldn’t be eating any meat and dairy. As painful as it is for me to say it, the vegetarians have a point. We eat too much meat, and probably too much dairy, for our own good. Many vegetarians who do vegetarianism for health reasons are also against highly processed and factory farmed foods. It seems hard to continue eating meat and dairy yet steer clear of factory farmed/highly processed products, so it drives many people looking for a healthier alternative to become vegetarians to avoid the evil meat corporations.

This brings me to the next big motivator: ethics. Many people will not eat veal or foie gras because it’s “unethical”, but will very happily chow down on a big mac. This sort of false ethical righteousness is something I really can’t stand in the meat eating community. I actually appreciate vegetarians for ethical reasons quite a bit. Their general stance is that it’s cruel to kill animals for our pleasure. Many say that the conditions factory farmed animals are kept in horrible conditions that are wholly unethical. Now, I know this sounds a lot like what PETA says on a regular basis, but apparently PETA is not universally liked among vegetarians. In fact, quite a few of the vegetarians I talked to said they disliked PETA, that they gave vegetarians a bad name in the extent of their craziness. In the past, I’ve always been resistant to seeing the ethical side of the argument because of PETA and the videos they put out which very blatantly pull on the heartstrings of the viewer and cast guilt and blame on meat eaters. But knowing that the ethics of most vegetarians don’t drive them to such fanatical hatred of the meat eating population, or outrageous protest measures, that helps me accept the ethical argument much better. Vegetarians who cite ethics as a reason not to eat meat are no different from the rest of the meat eaters who choose to not face the facts of the meat they’re eating, which is an unfortunately large number: they feel genuine compassion for other living creatures and would not be able to contemplate directly harming an animal. To be honest, if we had to kill our own meat, I think there would be a lot more vegetarians in the world. Ethical concern for animals is a big deal for a lot of people. I guess it’s like people being nice to pets. They’re animals, but they’re put on the same level of discourse as a human. They’re a part of the family, fed and cared for by the family, and even given a name. Extend that comradery to all animals, not just dogs and cats, and you’ve got a dilemma when it comes to eating one of those animals. For some people, it’s difficult and illogical to separate animals into two categories, one of which is cared for on a near human-like level while the other group is seen and treated as only slightly better than a field of corn. The dissonance it takes to justify that separation is understandably difficult. But for all the ethical posturing, there is some amount of ethical dissonance for vegetarians who still eat dairy or eggs. They are still eating products of animals that were treated unethically by the factory farming process. Unless these vegetarians buy organic, cage free eggs and raw milk cheese, they are still contributing to the unethical treatment of these animals. How can vegetarians have such high claims to ethics, yet compromise in other areas? Some claim that it’s just too hard to go completely vegan, and others say that eating dairy or eggs aren’t as bad as eating meat so they’re already doing their small part. While I understand this, I still feel as if they don’t quite have the courage of their convictions to go all the way. Personally, I’ve always viewed animals as inferior life forms, and have no problem with them dying for my consumption pleasure. But it’s still hard to admit that, and I know I would have trouble killing an animal myself. Even a ruthless meat eater like me has some reservations about animal suffering.

In line with treating others well, environmental reasons come into play for many vegetarians. Although its not usually the main reason, it’s certainly a powerful motivator and is usually cited as an ancillary reason for turning to vegetarianism. It’s no secret that it takes more resources, time, labor, and money to feed people meat than it does to feed them vegetables. That isn’t to say that meat is the main cause of all our environmental troubles. But it certainly plays its part in the ravaging of our planet. Again, there are those of us meat eaters who are willing to turn a blind eye to the facts of the matter. Some vegetarians, in fact most of them, would not say that it’s the meat eating populations’ fault at all. It’s the factory farms who pollute and do so much of their farming irresponsibly. But that only skirts the problem. The demand for meat is higher than it has even been, and producers want to keep up with that demand as best they can. There are many industries in which the struggle for suppliers to keep up with demand causes environmental problems, so why is it that vegetarians fixate on the meat industry? I suppose we could cast blame on the consumers completely for their high demand of such products, but this seems just as unfair as blaming the industries themselves. It’s pretty easy to see how the meat industry is causing all this environmental damage, and it’s a relatively easy place to point a finger. But I certainly know vegetarians who buy products from other environmentally irresponsible companies, like Monsanto, and be perfectly okay with it. If you’re going to care about these issues, it seems to me that you should go all in. Is food really such a big statement that it negates other areas? It occurs to me that it is human nature to focus on one area of a problem in specific, and that it’s also nearly impossible in our day and age to go completely green. So vegetarians are just doing their part.

It’s probably evident by now that I am not a vegetarian, and I only partially sympathize with their cause. I understand the reasoning behind it, but I still enjoy meat. I’ve been presented with enough evidence to convince me that I am eating too much meat, so I will concede that point and try and cut back on my excessive meat intake. It will take pretty substantial evidence and possibly even blackmail and coercion to turn me into a complete vegetarian for the rest of my life.

However, over the course of a month and a half, I did a trial run as a vegetarian, just to see what its like. At a college campus where a substantial part of the population is vegetarian, it’s not difficult to find food that I can eat. The usual concerns for vegetarians, protein, iron, fatty acids, calcium, were not a problem and easy to substitute for if you know how to eat right. Pasta vegetarians, as I soon figured out, are the vegetarians who don’t know how to eat a vegetarian diet and subsist more on carbohydrates than anything else. It is also a fun, derisive term that other vegetarians use to talk bad about fake vegetarians. Yeah, my diet was a bit restricted, and it did take some extra effort to make sure there wasn’t any meat in the food I was eating, but it wasn’t that difficult to transition into vegetarianism. I felt calmer, more balanced, and healthier at the end of my stint as a veggie. The only thing I missed in my time as a vegetarian was the savory taste of meat. It’s hard to replace with anything else, and the unctuous taste of meat is something that has always been a big part of my life. It was hard to even walk past the steamer trays of meat without catching the wafting aroma of fat and animal protein, which would make me sentimental for my savory meat-eating days. I caved when my girlfriend took me to a BBQ place where there was literally nothing vegetarian to eat. I very happily dug into my ribs, knowing that I could never completely convert to a vegetarian lifestyle. I certainly will cut my meat intake, and be more careful about where my meat comes from. But there’s no way I’m going to stop eating meat.

Vegetarians, I wish you the best of luck, and more power to you. You face a lot of challenges, and you are unfortunately misunderstood by some of your meat-eating brethren. But I hope that whether you eat meat or not, you at least were able to think about your position on these issues, and maybe will be able to find a better balance after reading this. Maybe its just wishful thinking on my part as an amateur food writer, but it’s certainly been an eye opening experience for me. I try to practice what I preach about trying other foods, learning to accept the cultural culinary traditions of others, and being open minded when approached with something drastically different from your own norm. Thanks to all the vegetarians who made this possible, all the animals whose lives made my happiness possible, and the few people who actually read this entire post.

Paisha's French Sampler

Fri, 28 Dec 2012 15:55:00 -0800

My best friend, Paisha, just got back from France, and brought quite a haul with her. As usual, our Christmas gift exchange comprised of a lot of little food items. This year was a particularly wonderful sampling of pate, chocolate, salt, and some very strange pig gummies.

The pate was excellent. Subtle hints of the port and other flavorings only added to the enjoyment. It was perfectly rich and creamy, but still light enough to have more of it thank I probably should’ve. It plays especially well with a nice loaf of bread. The salt level is perfect, the flavors are exceptionally well balanced, and the little pieces of fat laced throughout the pate make for an extra treat. Even though it comes in a can, you can tell this is some quality pate.

The fleur de sel is a perfect finishing salt. The flaky, small grains make for a very elegant looking piece of food. It has a bite that elevates whatever you put it on, and it even has a bit of acidity that brightens on the tip of the tongue. Every time I open that bag, I can almost smell the sea. It’s not as round and warm of a flavor like Kosher salt, or even as sharp and earthy as rock salt, but more mild and briny. I used some fleur de sel on top of a fillet of pan seared tilapia the other night, which was a brilliant pairing. Another instant hit. And the bag is big enough that I’ll have enough for the foreseeable future.

Pig gummies are an interesting addition to this year’s bag. I noticed that pork gelatin was listed in with the ingredients, which makes it even more fitting that the gummies were in the shape of pigs. A nice consistency combined with a measured fruity flavor makes these perfect for an idle snack. And they’re so cute! Woah, did I just call something cute? Of all the things in the world that are deserving of the cuteness moniker, pig gummies only take backseat to golden retriever puppies, babies wearing stylish clothes, bears on unicycles, and Congress’ attempt to fixing the debt problem, all of which are insanely cute.

But I’ve saved the best for last. When Paisha asked me what I wanted her to bring back from France, I remembered reading Jeffrey Steingarten’s praise for Valrhona chocolate and reading in various other sources how wonderful Valrhona is. So on a whim, I asked her to bring back some Valrhona, half expecting her to not bring any back in light of the amount of suggestions I was giving her. But Paisha latched onto the idea, and within a week, she told me she had bought my bar a Valrhona. The moment of truth came a few days ago as I opened the package for the first time. It smelled like the most chocolaty chocolate I’ve ever smelled. If there’s any food I would point to as evidence of God, it would be that bar of chocolate. That bar of chocolate is the best I’ve ever had. To be honest, I debated with myself whether to put that last sentence in past or present tense for about a half hour. I’m still eating it, and very slowly too. I intend to savor every bite. Valrhona does an amazing job balancing all the flavors. There’s the bitter chocolate bite balanced with the creaminess, the floral and herbal notes, a deep earthy undertone, a hint of acid, and the very pleasing taste of pure chocolate. I just let the piece of chocolate sit on my tongue and melt, picking up all the notes of every flavor as I went. That chocolate is the most complex and most pleasing chocolate I’ve ever had. It’s very apparent that Valrhona knows their chocolate on a level that few can actually hope to achieve.

Thank you, Paisha, for bringing back of of these delicious treats from France. It’s really a test of a friendship to see if your friend is willing to smuggle in food from another country for your Christmas gift, and Paisha has once again proven herself.

Finals and Experiencing Food

Mon, 17 Dec 2012 10:01:32 -0800

Yes, you guessed it. It’s that time of the year for me: the time of year when I subsist on Cheetos, top ramen, coffee, and stress. Finals are eating away at my brain, and there’s not much I can do in the way of food writing this week. So instead, I will apologize for the lack of article and will make up with extra articles over the break. Although I do have one interesting tidbit to share.

My girlfriend is a recovering picky eater. She is now able to eat and enjoy most foods. But she still has reservations about eating some foods, along with the majority of the population. For example: organ meat. It is for this reason that I have made it my personal quest to expose her gently to as many different types of organ meat as possible. On our first date, I got her to eat a shrimp eye. Nothing big, baby steps, but it’s certainly out of the ordinary. Then, just last week, we were out to dinner and I ordered veal sweetbreads. Of course, she didn’t know that sweetbreads are brains, and blindly trusted me when I shoved a piece onto her plate for her to try. Her mistake: never trust me to be sensitive about a picky eaters’ sensibilities, past or present. But after a few seconds of inspection, she chewed the small hunk of brain and remarked, “It’s not bad.” I couldn’t resist. ”Yeah, it’s so good you’d never know you were eating brain,” I said. Her face went white with horror as she processed what she had just swallowed. Needless to say, she was mildly resentful for the rest of the night. But I got her to eat out of her comfort zone, and she didn’t hate it; she might’ve actually liked it.

Kevin, why did you tell us this story? I’ve been reflecting on my goal as a gastronome recently. I really love food, all different types of it, and I’m always open to trying something new. People who refuse to eat something because “it’s gross” or “I don’t think I would like it” irritate me. There’s such a big world of food out there. There’s nothing wrong with sticking to one spot, but it would be a shame to never venture out of that spot to gain a broader understanding and appreciation for everything that’s out there. It’s all about widening your horizons. So I guess that’s really my goal with food, is to inform people about what is out there. If I can get my girlfriend to try some brain, or expose my friends to some excellent blue cheese, or even get someone to think about why they like a certain flavor over other flavors, it’s a win. That’s a point for the good guys. I could romanticize it and say I’m a gastronomic ambassador, bringing foods that would otherwise be unknown or under-appreciated into the spotlight for those around me to experience.

Above all, food is a communal thing. I like experiencing the weird stuff for myself, but it’s even better to introduce it to someone who doesn’t yet know about it and experience it with them. The greatest pleasure for me is allowing others to discover something new that they love. The look of amazement and pure pleasure on my roommate’s face when he had a sip of my hot chocolate just last week will forever be in my memory.

P.S. I made a really ghetto pseudo bibimbap for breakfast today. Two fried eggs in a bowl of chicken top ramen with some sriracha. Pictured below.

Fresh Boiled Eggs

Mon, 10 Dec 2012 10:00:43 -0800

A few months ago, one of my friends built a chicken coop in his yard. ”Hey Kevin, do you want to buy a chicken?” he said one day as we passed on our way to class. At first, I had no idea what he meant. It took me a second to process that I was actually going to be putting money down for a live chicken whose primary role would be providing eggs. Needless to say, I was excited.

As soon as I got home that day, I researched as many techniques as I could find for cooking eggs. Of course, I’m already fairly experience with frying eggs, making omelettes, and using them for emulsions. But for some reason, I had never really ventured into the area of hard boiling them. ”Why,” I asked myself, “has it been years since I’ve had a really good boiled egg? And why haven’t I gotten off my lazy ass and done something about it?” Seriously, boiled eggs are some of the easiest things you can possibly do in the kitchen. It requires minimal equipment and barely any washing up. Ingredients are equally simple: eggs and salt.

I discovered in my research the reason why I haven’t had a good boiled egg in a long time: boiled eggs are terrible when overcooked, which is a very common problem. The name “boiled eggs” is a bit of a misnomer. A boiled egg shouldn’t really actually be boiled. This cooks it too fast and unevenly. Instead, what you want to do is put the eggs in cold water that you bring to a boil, then take the water off the heat and leave the eggs to finish cooking in the hot water. Of course you could do this on a stove with a pot, but why even bother? I’ve been using my electric kettle, which is much easier. It comes to a boil quickly, shuts itself off once at a boil, and there’s barely any cleaning involved. Make sure to salt the water just a little bit; this helps to strengthen the enamel of the shells so the eggs don’t crack during cooking. And forget all that stuff you’ve heard about adding vinegar. It just makes the eggs taste funky and stinks up the kitchen. But if you’re one of those people who actually likes the smell of vinegar (myself included), I’ll compromise for you: add 2 tablespoons of vinegar…straight into the sink! Do not pass go, do not cook eggs in vinegar. You’ll have to play around with timing with your own electric kettle. I’ve found that setting the timer for 12 1/2 minutes works best. Start the timer as soon as the kettle turns off. Once the timer runs out, drain the eggs and but them in an ice bath for no more than a minute. This will stop the cooking from continuing, but if you leave them in there for too long, everything contracts and solidifies back up; the membrane may be easier to deal with, but you’ll get a pasty yolk and a slightly cold egg. Take them out after a minute.

Another common problem is the freshness of the eggs. If you have older eggs, the yolk may not stay in place as well, and the white will turn grey as it cooks. The shell will also be easier to crack, and may end up cracking during the cooking process. With fresh eggs, the shell will stay intact and all the internal parts will cook evenly. The yolk is most important with fresh eggs. As eggs age, connective tissues break down and they become less solid, especially in the yolk. If an egg is old, the yolk is more prone to lose its shape and not hold together as easily. This is also why the whites of older eggs are more watery. The key to a good egg is the freshness. So if you don’t have access to really fresh eggs from a chicken, find a store that does organic eggs and check the label. There will be a number on the side that tells you when it was packaged. Get the freshest eggs you can find.

Oh, and just a small tip about peeling your eggs: tap directly on a hard surface all over the egg and roll it around in your hands to loosen the shell. Once you have removed a small piece of shell, you’ll find a thin, translucent membrane that goes around the whole egg. Show no mercy—rip the membrane off the egg. It’s easier to peel by using the membrane to wrench the shell up from underneath. So what if you egg looks a little dented here and there? It’s still a boiled egg, and it will still be delicious. I suggest serving with a little bit of kosher salt to dip the egg in.

I’m still learning new ways to deal with eggs, and they continue to fascinate me, but I will always come back to boiled eggs as a staple of my childhood and as one of the easiest things I can make in 20 minutes.

Is tumblr a good place for food blogs?

Sun, 02 Dec 2012 14:36:23 -0800

I want to hear what you guys have to say. More than a year ago, I moved my blog from a blogspot over to tumblr. This was when I was still doing a tandem blog with a friend in NYC. Since then, she has stopped contributing to the blog and I have taken it over. But I just continued on tumblr, partially out of laziness, and also because I really like the tumblr format. I do see there are some serious bloggers on tumblr, especially some more serious food bloggers. However, blogspot really is a better site for serious bloggers who do more in depth posts on a regular basis like I do. A blogspot is certainly more professional. However, I feel like I can reach a wider audience on tumblr.

What I’ve really been wondering is how much tumblr is a place for inane reblogging as opposed to serious blogs that others are creating? I’ve been wrestling with this idea for a while. Where is my future as a food blogger? Is tumblr a trend that will die out, or will it last? Is it worth the effort to transfer over to another site? What do you guys think about my blog? I am open for any and all comments, criticisms, etc. Thanks!

P.S. Sorry this isn’t particularly food related. I’ve had a lot on my mind recently and haven’t had time to sit down and write an article. I’ll try to get an actual post out soon, but no promises. I’m about to head into finals for the next few weeks, so we’ll see how it all shakes out.

Ka Won

Mon, 26 Nov 2012 10:00:42 -0800

Over the years, I’ve eaten at my fair share of Korean BBQ restaurants. My neighborhood is filled with lots of Koreans, and if you know where to look, you can find a bunch of restaurants that serve only Korean food to Koreans. But there is one Korean BBQ place that I’ve come to really love: Ka Won. It comes highly recommended from Koreans all over the Seattle area, which is high praise considering all the possible Korean restaurants you could be eating at.

Ka Won has all the prerequisites to meet the “Good Ethnic Food” standard. The interior design leaves a lot to be desired, and was probably barely changed from its last owners. The tables are cheap and falling apart, and the upholstery is gaudy and out of date. Nevertheless, it’s very clean, as much as it may not look it. You never have to wait long for your food to come, and there are conveniently placed buzzers at the end of each table to alert your server that you need something. And the best sign: all the customers are Koreans. Seriously, I would be lucky to spot another white guy eating in there, and its usually a white guy in a group of other Koreans. A whole table of white people? Yeah right. Rarely happens. So one can imagine the novelty when a group of white suburban yuppies walk right in and get a table. More than a few of the Koreans turned to look for a second, probably commenting about how brave or stupid we were to be eating something other than a Big Mac.

Fortunately, ordering is easy. The menu is primarily in Korean, but there are English phrases that are of somewhat dubious translation quality. The servers speak enough English to take care of business, but don’t expect to hold a conversation, or to get complex orders across. That being said, if you’re going for the BBQ, you won’t be ordering a whole lot. There are about eight different selections of meats you can throw on your grill, mostly beef and pork. All BBQ plates come complete with sides, including a salad, a communal tofu hot pot, individual bowls of rice, and 11 small dishes of various items. The 11 items change depending on what’s fresh and available, but some, like the kimchi and pickled bean sprouts, are a constant. I especially like the fried fish, which are tiny, oily fish quickly fried with some garlic and peppers. Very salty and absolutely delicious. Then, there are things like the vegetable and egg pancakes, which are to die for. It’s a perfectly mild palette cleanser in between bites of food. There’s also a potato salad dish, which is more like a dish of cold mashed potatoes with vegetables in it. The marinated mushrooms were a new addition, and they were wonderful. My favorite is the whole baby turnips, treated just like kimchi.

The meat is equally good. For four people, all you need is two orders of meat and you will be fine. They completely load the plate! Pork side is a classic, and is perfectly marbled with a half and half ratio of meat to fat. It cooks up a bit tougher though, so be prepared to take the whole piece in one bite. The galbi (beef short ribs) are particularly good. Served in a sesame based marinade, they are brought out with a pair of scissors to shear the gigantic flap of meat into individual servings. Of course the meat is good by itself, but its even better with the complimentary plate of condiments. Whole cloves of garlic and slices of jalapeno are perfect when grilled alongside the meat and rolled up inside of it. There’s also an interesting sweet and spicy paste that adds a bit of a kick. And of course, there’s the sesame oil and salt: this is especially good to drag slices of pork through. Oh, and did I mention you cook it yourself. The grill is on the table, and they give you the meat and the tongs, so all you have to do is control the amount of meat you want to put on the grill at a time and remember to flip it in between shoving side dishes in your mouth. There’s also beer. OB, the Korean rice beer lager, is proudly served in gigantic bottles. They bring you glasses and let you pour yourselves. Of course, observing Korean tradition and etiquette, you never pour your own beer. Everyone pours for each other, and there’s some system of telling who pours for who, but I still haven’t figured it out yet.

Can there be a bad experience when you have fire, meat, alcohol, and tons of interesting sides? No. It’s impossible. But there are varying degrees of pleasure. Ka Won knows exactly what they’re doing: food. They don’t try to impress, dazzle, or do anything other than feed you some really outstanding Korean food. It’s up to you to make the ambiance and the experience. If you’re stodgy about it, then you’re not going to have fun. But if you let the heat sink in, order a lot of beer, and start doing the Gangnam style dance in your seat like I did, you’re in for a great time. The food speaks for itself and lets you interact with the food in a very relaxed way. It really does induce pleasure, and we all know that there’s not much in the world that’s more pleasurable than a plate of meat and some good company. All I know is, when I want great Korean food, I’m going to Ka Won.

15004 Washington 99
Lynnwood, WA

Merry Thanksgiving, from Inquiries in Food.

Fri, 23 Nov 2012 15:54:46 -0800

Merry Thanksgiving, from Inquiries in Food.

Hostess on the run

Mon, 19 Nov 2012 20:29:00 -0800

I was originally going to post about yeast today, but when I heard that Hostess went out of business a few days ago, I couldn’t resist. I have a weakness for packaged confectionery products, and Hostess has a special place in my heart. The times I’ve shared with a few friends, a bong, and a package of donettes…they will forever stay in my heart.

“So what?” some may say, “It’s just another mediocre snack food giant going out of business. Good riddance.” You would be right, but I don’t think it should be that easy to write it off. Hostess has had some serious power in the industry for a long time. Why are they going out of business? What does this mean for the snack food industry? Are twinkies really going to be collector’s items now?

Despite being a convenience food giant, Hostess has been having a lot of financial troubles lately. They filed for protection from bankruptcy in 2009 and earlier in 2012, and have been having trouble even making a profit. In the middle of their financial troubles, Hostess entered some pretty ugly negotiations with the labor unions their employees belong to. Most of the unions were able to reach an agreement, but one union, the Bakery, Confectionery, Tobacco Workers, and Grain Millers International Union (BCTGM), went on strike. Hostess, unable to meet their demands, issued an ultimatum by which they would shut down unless enough employees showed up for work. Of course, there weren’t enough employees at work, and a fair number of them stood outside the factory in coveralls waving picket signs. There was no way Hostess was going to dig its way out of that hole, so they decided to cut their losses and file for bankruptcy. All of their assets are to be sold to the highest bidder.

Over the past decade, we’ve seen a slow growth in the health food movement, as we are continually bombarded to eat healthier. But surely this isn’t why Hostess went out of business: most other snack food companies are doing just fine and continuing to grow. The market is great for those selling prepackaged convenience foods. We seem to be at a polarizing time in American food culture, with a simultaneous rise in health food and junk food. Hostess going out of business is a victory cry for many of the health food nuts out there, but they conveniently forget about all the health food stores that have gone out of business in the bad economy of the recent recession. The industry is not slowing down at all, despite this small hiccup with losing Hostess.

However, I speculate that Hostess will not be bought immediately. It will take them a while to sell their assets. Although, there are plenty of companies who would love to get their hands on the Twinkie production rights. I highly doubt anyone will be clambering for the Snowballs, or for the fruit pies. I’ve been watching as Twinkie prices on the internet shoot up to $30 per box, and that’s on the low end. People are treating them like collector’s items, which is stupid. Twinkies will go back into production. It might take a while, and they might not be exactly the same, but there’s enough money in the Twinkie business that someone has to bid on the rights of production. So all the idiots buying all the boxes of Twinkies at the local Fred Meyer’s like it’s the end of the world can chill out. So can all the people expecting to make lots of money by selling their Twinkies on Ebay.

The snack food industry is only experiencing a hiccup, and the death of Hostess does not mean anything particularly notable for the rest of the industry. While there may be a slow, steady decline in consumption of packaged snack foods, it will take a long time for America to ween herself off of cheetos and skittles to the point where big companies have to file for bankruptcy en masse. But for now, I will settle down by the fire with the last box of Hostess donettes at my local Fred Meyer’s. Oh yes, I went through great trouble to liberate the last of the Hostess. There’s something sentimental about eating a box of donettes, something that reminds me of family road trips and all the times I skipped play rehearsal in high school to go smoke a bowl with my friends.

Note: This article has been delayed in posting due to recent developments in court. The judge hearing Hostess’ bankruptcy case is demanding that they go back into negotiations with the BCTGM, mostly because a representative from BCTGM never formally closed their end of negotiations. While Hostess has already taken steps to close factories and stop production, this seems like it could be a temporary thing while they work things out with the union. Still, lots of people have been laid off for the moment, and the little yellow logs of goodness are not pumping at maximum speed out of the Hostess factories. Even if Hostess does end up shutting down, we have nothing to worry about: Twinkies will continue.

Cacio e Pepe

Mon, 12 Nov 2012 09:52:00 -0800

This is a recipe I’ve been meaning to try for ages. Cacio e Pepe translates to “Cheese and Pepper”, which is prettymuch all this pasta is. It’s a beautifully simple dish that requires very little in the way of ingredients, time, or skill. For me, it’s a great lazy feel-good meal.

Originating in Rome, this pasta has become a staple of Italians everywhere. And like all things Italian, the ingredients are paramount. Cheese, the first part of Cacio e Pepe, is the heart of the dish; without good cheese, you will not have good Cacio e Pepe. So please, for the love of gastronomy, don’t buy the pre-grated stuff. It’s not as good, devoid of complex flavor, and seriously, how hard is it to grate cheese? On a bad day, it takes me two minutes to grate a whole chunk of parmesan. A traditional Cacio e Pepe uses two cheeses, although there is a fair amount of argument about the ratio of the cheeses. Parmigiano Reggiano, a nutty, salty cheese made from cow’s milk, is the first cheese that is always used. The second cheese is usually Pecorino Romano, another hard salty cheese, but this one is lighter, more fruity and herbal, and made from goat’s milk. Sometimes people use other regional variations, or just forgo the Pecorino and do the recipe just with Parmigiano Reggiano. Personally, I really like the contrast between the Pecorino and the Parmigiano, so I use both. As far as ratios go, I have my preferences: namely 1/2 Pecorino and 1/2 Parmigiano. That’s just me though, as I like a robust, salty end product with enough lightness and creaminess to pull it out at the end. If you’re looking for something lighter, add more Pecorino. If you hate lightness and wish to live on the dark side of the Cacio e Pepe, go all out Parmigiano. It’s totally up to you: you’re the bossta of your pasta. See what I did there? Yeah, my jokes are beginning to sound like my mothers’.

The amount of cheese is something to say attention to as well, since the cheese itself is going to be your sauce. You should have equal amounts of pasta and cheese. Too much cheese and you overwhelm the pasta, too much pasta and you don’t get enough sauce. Speaking of sauce, you’re probably wondering how the hell you’re going to make a sauce with just cheese. But don’t fear: I would never be so cruel as to make you try and make a sauce using just cheese. There will be a few ladles of pasta water involved to slowly melt the cheese and thin it out a bit, as well as the butter and oil the pepper was sauteed in to help develop a bit of flavor and give the sauce some nice cohesion. Again, the amount of pasta water is up to you, depending on how tight or thin you like your sauce. A good rule of thumb is to keep a ratio of 4:3. So if I use a cup of cheese, I should use 3/4 cups of water.

Finally, about the pepper. It’s really the same deal as the cheese: don’t use preground pepper unless you want to resign yourself to a fiery pit of woe. People who use preground pepper are like people who use boneless skinless chicken breasts—evil. Besides, it’s just as cheap and easy to buy peppercorns and a decent pepper grinder. The pepper is more fragrant if you grind it just before use, just like nutmeg. Idealy, you would use a mortar and pestle (it releases more of the fragrances and leaves a nice unevenness to the pepper), but grinders are fine. To get even more flavor out of the pepper, you’ll want to sautee it very quickly in a pan with some butter and oil. I can’t really give you a time, because everyone’s pepper and everyone’s stove is different. It shouldn’t take more than a minute though. Your nose will be your best friend at this point, as you want to cook the pepper until its fragrant. Any more and it will burn.

That takes care of the essentials. And of course, like we’ve talked about before, you’re going to salt your pasta water, and you’re going to use a good brand of pasta, and you’re going to cook it not even until it’s aldente because the pasta will finish cooking in the pan with the sauce. But you already knew all that.

This dish is a fantasticly simple and delicious take on mac and cheese. Light, creamy, multi-layered, and a delight to all the senses. It’s amazing how complex such a simple dish can be. I made this a few nights ago for my girlfriend, who was also surprised at how good it was, seeing as it took only 15 minutes and barely any work.

Ingredients:

- 1/2 lb spaghetti
- 1/4 lb Parmigiano Reggiano, grated
- 1/4 lb Pecorino Romano, grated
- 1 tablespoon unsalted butter
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- 1 1/2 tablespoons cracked black pepper
- Kosher salt
- reserved pasta water, about 1 1/2 cups

Method:

Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Salt and add the spaghetti, cooking about 6 minutes, before it’s aldente.

When the pasta is 1 minute from being done, add the butter and olive oil into a skillet over medium heat. Once the butter is melted, add the pepper and saute until fragrant. Add 1/2 cup of reserved pasta water and the drained pasta. Slowly incorporate the cheese, stirring and tossing constantly. Once half the cheese is incorporated, add another 1/4 to 1/2 cup of pasta water and continue incorporating the cheese. If the sauce is too thin, add more cheese, if the sauce is too thick, add more water.

Serve immediately on hot plates. Garnish with some extra black pepper and Pecorino Romano.

Ginger Beer

Mon, 05 Nov 2012 10:00:36 -0800

I’ve always loved ginger, in almost everything. Now that it’s getting into fall, I figured it would be the perfect time to experiment with more ginger concoctions. I have a recipe for ginger ale that works fairly well, but I’ve always wanted to embellish it and try making ginger beer. Ginger beer is the badass older brother of Ginger ale: drier, darker, spicier, more complex, and very pleasing. Ginger beer doesn’t take shit from anyone, especially hapless home cooks who don’t know what they’re doing. I embarked on a mission to find as much as I could about ginger beer and make my own batch.

First, and most important, a bit of history. The word “ginger” comes from Sanskrit, and means “horn root”, although it is actually not a root. Ginger is a rhizome, which acts like a root, but is different. Trust me, I’ve scoured plenty of articles and sources to figure out that it’s prettymuch a root with a different name because of a few arbitrary reasons. But I digress. Ginger is originally an Asian product and has been used for both culinary and medicinal purposes for a long time. Scientists still aren’t quite sure how ginger does what it does medically speaking, but they can say that ginger helps settle the stomach, especially in the case of motion sickness. It has been used as very effective folk medicine to combat most common illnesses for ages. I’ve certainly had good luck using ginger in my times of sickness. There have been more and more studies conducted over the years to try and figure out what ginger is actually capable of, and it seems to live up to some of the folklore hype for being a cure all, being able to stave off coughs, colds, and even help with joint and muscle pain.

But how did Ginger Beer come into the picture? In 1800’s England, beer was a fairly common beverage to have with food, more common than water. But there were quite a few beers that were not made from grains but aromatics, like ginger. The problem is that ginger beer was originally too high in alcohol content, so brewers diluted it by adding more ginger and shortening the fermentation process. It is arguable that ginger beer was the first soft drink, with the production of commercial soft drinks dating back to 1880 in America with Vernor’s Ginger Ale. Ginger beer was wildly popular with the British, as it was refreshing and warming. At the time, India was one of the biggest producers of ginger in the world (and it still is today), so the British were especially happy to keep oppressing an entire subcontinent to get their ginger fix, among other reasons.

That brings us to the process of making ginger beer: the best, and probably most authentic ginger beer, is made with relatively few ingredients. Like ginger ale, a simple syrup with ginger is made, steeped, then added to some water, usually pre-carbonated. But in the process of making ginger beer, we’re going to carbonate the water ourselves instead of using already carbonated water. What carbonates beer is responsible for turning sugars into alcohol? That’s right, our good old friend yeast. And since our ginger syrup is swimming with sugar already, the only thing left to do is add acidity to balance the pH so the yeast won’t die. Lemon or lime juice is the usual route, so that’s what we’ll stick with. The ginger syrup is added to some citrus juice, a lot of water, and a little yeast. We then leave it to ferment and carbonate for a while. The fermentation process is much like that of Kombucha, so anyone who has home brewed a batch of Kombucha should be right at home here. The yeast traditionally came from the ginger beer plant a combination of fungus, yeast, and bacteria that is used over and over again, much like a starter loaf when making bread. But you don’t have to use ginger beer plant to brew ginger beer. Mostly any yeast will work, from baker’s yeast to champagne yeast. I’ll be using dry active yeast, mostly because it’s easy to find and works with everything. I also have a few packs of it still lying around. If you’re wondering what yeast actually does, sit tight: there will be a post about that coming soon.

For my experiment, I made two batches, one using brown sugar and lime juice, the other using white sugar and lemon juice. After a two day fermentation period, during which I continually released the pressure from the bottles several times every day, I chilled the bottles and had a taste test with my friends. My first batch, the brown sugar and lime juice, was too acidic and a bit flat, but the second batch was much better, with only a little acidity and a perfect amount of carbonation. Dark, refreshing, gingery, sweet, with just a little kick of lemon. Apart from spewing some ginger beer on my carpet, my homework, and myself, the experiment went quite well. I have my bottles of ginger beer in the fridge and a big glass of ginger beer next to me as I write. Here is how I did it:

Ingredients:

-1/4 cup grated ginger
-3/4 cup sugar
-2 tablespoons lime juice
-1/4 teaspoon dry active yeast
-8 cups clean water

Method:

Add the ginger, sugar, and 1 cup of water to a small saucepan over high heat. Stir occasionally and bring the syrup to a boil. Once at a boil, remove from the heat and cover. Let the syrup steep for one hour.

When the syrup is done steeping and at room temperature, strain it into a clean, empty 2-liter bottle, pressing the remains of the ginger to get all the syrup out. Add the lemon juice and yeast. Fill the bottle until two inches from the top with room temperature water. Shake well to activate the yeast.

Store at room temperature for 48 hours exactly. Carefully unscrew the cap partway every 6 to 8 hours to release pressure. After 48 hours, depressurize the bottle slowly over a sink. Store in a fridge, and continue releasing the pressure once each day.

Warm Squash Salad

Mon, 29 Oct 2012 10:00:00 -0700

I really don’t know what to call this dish. It’s a modification of a dish my mother makes from time to time. I love how simple it is: honestly, it’s just the ingredients in the picture above (the lime is hiding behind the squash). This is a perfect side dish for the fall, especially if you are tired of squash. ”Tired of squash?” you might say, “I fucking hate the stuff!” Yeah, that’s how I felt for a long time. Mushy, flavorless, and just plain weird. But this dish counteracts all the normal problems most people have with squash: it’s not mushy, it has tons of flavor, and although it seems strange, its distinctively less weird than that mound of unidentified orange stuff that was always pushed onto your plate as a kid.

This dish works best with a Kabocha squash, but a Delicata or Acorn squash will work just fine too. Serve this alongside some grilled skirt steak or a nice piece of salmon and your taste buds will thank you.

In a somewhat untimely digression, I would like to apologize for how not wordy this article is, at least compared to most of my other articles where I cover every aspect of the food I’m talking about. My brain is currently being fried by two essays, an impending economics test, and revising a short story. It’s the busy part of the school year for me. Have no fear though, for I have some articles in the works, one of which is on vegetarianism *gasp*.

Ingredients:

-1 1/2 pounds squash, 1/2 inch cubes
-1 cup chopped cilantro
-1/2 chopped crystallized (candied) ginger
-1 lime
-olive oil
-Kosher salt
-ground black pepper

Method:

Preheat an oven to 400.

Cut the squash equatorially, then scoop out the guts with a metal spoon. Save the seeds for baking and eating later, or throw them away if you are like me and can’t be bothered. Take the skin off and cube.

Line a baking tray with foil and lightly brush it with olive oil. Throw the squash on and drizzle with more olive oil, and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Bake for 20-25 minutes, just until tender.

Let the pumpkin rest for about 5 minutes, then transfer to a bowl with the cilantro and ginger. Squeeze the juice of the lime over it, then toss gently. Serve warm.

Jiro Dreams of Sushi

Mon, 22 Oct 2012 09:30:27 -0700

I’ve been told by sushi aficionados to watch this movie. I’ve been told by film buffs to watch this movie. I’ve been told by Japanese people to watch this movie. So there wasn’t much of a question that I would eventually be watching this movie.

Jiro Dreams of Sushi is a documentary that follows Jiro and his restaurant as the viewer is taken on many journeys through the cultural, historical, gastronomical, and social avenues of being a sushi master in Japan. It takes nearly every aspect of Jiro’s life into account, from making the sushi, to his family life, to all the characters that surround him in his everyday life.

Needless to say, it was quite interesting to watch. The cinematography was symphonic, everything fitting together beautifully. The colors were sharp and vivid, very reminiscent of the way in which Jiro prepares his sushi. Narrative was not a problem like it tends to be in documentaries. It transitions well between what life is like for Jiro now and how it came to be that way. The director left a lot open for interpretation in terms of what we thought of the people and the story: he didn’t romanticize it or make it out to be something terrible, he just presented it and let the sushi speak for itself, so to speak. There was almost a reverential feeling I got from this film.

What was probably the most impressive aspect, for me at least, was how well they showed Japanese culture. As an outsider, it’s strange and difficult to look in on another culture, especially in such an intimate environment. But that didn’t seem to get in the way; it added more depth if anything. Jiro’s movement through Japanese society and how he and his sons relate to their culture is a big part of the narrative, and it was handled well. My parents lived in Japan for a while before I was born, so they know the culture better than I do, and from what I can tell by their accounts and from what little I know of Japanese culture (besides a love of everything miniature, individually wrapped, and simple), this film moves an outsider through Japanese culture without having to get caught up in explaining it.

The food aspect was given its due time and explained very well. It was a nice mixture they did, interspersing it with all the narrative. And of course, the visuals were terrific. I can definitely say I understand more about sushi and sushi culture after watching this film, as well as understanding more about Japanese culture. I know I would never be able to do what Jiro does, given what is demanded of him by his culture, and by himself.

I watched this film with one of my friends who is an artist, and he commented that it made him feel useless and inferior in comparison, that he just wanted to shut himself in his room and practice his craft for a few years. The film certainly puts you in a weird mood afterwards, which isn’t necessarily bad. I think it achieves the desired effect. However, I would’ve liked more closure in the ending (a paltry complaint, seeing as this is a documentary and the story isn’t over).

Overall, this was a great movie, especially for someone interested in everything that happens in the restaurant and food culture of another culture. I was very impressed and would highly recommend this film to anyone who likes sushi, has an interest in Japan, or just likes a good, thoughtful documentary.