Wednesday, February 08, 2017

At last, something to celebrate: Tomorrow (Feb. 9) is National Pizza Day!

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If you'd like to celebrate the big day with Slow-Cooker Pizza-Stuffed Peppers, you'll find the recipe here.

by Ken

Yes, of course, the news lately, ricocheting between bad and worse, has been grim, and we know that, looking into the future, the worst is surely yet to come.

Now you probably thought, when you first laid eyes on the start of the above post title, "At last, something to celebrate," that I meant to subject to you to yet more harassment and propagandizing on behalf of that fake holiday Valentine's Day. You know, the day set aside for the candy and flower lobbies to induce us to empty your wallets on expensive nothings either because we don't have a significant other or, perhaps more cruelly, because we do -- one who's likely to be out of our lives long before the "holiday" rolls around again, or who we'll come to wish was.

But no, I'm not celebrating that miserable made-up holiday. I'm celebrating a day that will do way more than all the combined efforts of the so-called Trump administration ever will to Make America Great Again: National Pizza Day. Which falls tomorrow, February 9.

If you aren't already in a festive mood, here's an example, courtesy of WTKR.com, of how to honor this great day:

Deals and steals for National Pizza Day

POSTED 5:00 AM, FEBRUARY 8, 2017, BY MELISSA STEPHENSON

Thursday, February 9 is National Pizza Day!

Social media is sure to be buzzing with pictures of pizza all day sparking your cheese cravings so here is a list of deals that will make indulging even better.

• Sabarro: Get a free slice of pizza when you join the Sabarro Slice Society
• Papa John’s: 40% off any pizza at regular menu price with code 40PIZZA – Until March 5
• PizzaHut: Medium three topping pizza for $6
• Dominos: Choose any two or more on select items for $5.99 each
• Del Vecchio’s, Norfolk: Delivery specials on 18″ pizzas and one topping specials for pickup
• Reginella’s Trattoria & Pizzeria, Chesapeake: Lunch specials until 3:30 p.m. – 2 slices and a drink combo and 12″ two topping pizza for $8.50
• Brixx Wood Fired Pizza, Greenbrier, Chesapeake and Landstown, Va. Beach – After 10 p.m. half off pizzas and appetizers
• Adamo’s New York Pizzeria, Virginia Beach: Two 14″ one topping pizzas for $17.99
• Jet’s Pizza, Virginia Beach: One topping pizza and wings (small: $15.49, medium: $16.49, large: $19.49)

Eat up!
And just to show that Melissa is serious about this, there's not a single picture of pizza to spark our cheese cravings! Of course these tidings aren't of much use if you don't happen to be in the WTKR service area, which would appear to be the Hampton Roads (VA) area. This is why I haven't worried overmuch about the above "links" not being live. (If you do happen to live in the WTKR service area, just follow the link to Melissa's post.) Still, this should help imbue you with the spirit of the occasion.

UP FOR A MORE HANDS-ON APPROACH?

The folks at BettyCrocker.com have you covered, in "Any Way You Slice it, it's National Pizza Day!" "Whether you’re in the mood for a classic pie or a twist on tradition," they've got "12 ways to enjoy your pizza day," each accompanied by an, er, appropriate picture, like the one above of the Slow-Cooker Pizza-Stuffed Peppers.

• Pizza Spaghetti Casserole
• "Thai Chicken Party" Pizza
• Slow-Cooker Pizza Chicken
• Slow-Cooker Pizza Soup
• Stuffed-Crust Pepperoni Pizza
• Italian Pizza Bake (Cooking For 2)
• Impossibly Easy Pizza Bake
• White Spaghetti Pizza Bake
• Stuffed Pizza
• Extra-Easy Pizza
• Gluten-Free Pizza
• Slow-Cooker Pizza-Stuffed Peppers

BUT YOU HAVE YOUR OWN PIZZA ROUTINES!

Or maybe this is the day to go hog wild and bust right out of those routines! Either way, you know you've got the full weight of that great traditional day of commemoration National Pizza Day behind you as you approach the great day.

As they say at WTKR: Eat up!
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Sunday, January 08, 2017

Food Watch: An interesting exchange between the NYT critic and a Bay Area restaurateur

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LocoL creators Daniel Patterson and Roy Choi [click to enlarge]

by Ken

I don't know quite what to make of this story, but I know there's something interesting about it, something worth thinking about a little, and so I'm just going to dish the story out in its three steps and leave it to you to make of it what you will.

It's certainly possible that Tasting Table and TT correspondent Alison Spiegel have it right. They clearly know what they think about the story, as we know right away from the head on Alison's January 4 TT post: "Roy Choi Had the Perfect Response to NYT's Zero-Star Review" and the ensuing blurb "This is the kind of dialogue that makes restaurants better." And, as we'll see, Alison's conclusion carries this theme through.

Before we get to that, though, let's retrace the story.


THE BEGINNING: THE ORIGINAL STORY

Note that there are lots of links onsite.


The LocoL Revolution
Roy Choi and Daniel Patterson debut LocoL, fast food with a mission



What started as a talk at the MAD Symposium in Copenhagen two years ago has finally become a reality. Roy Choi and Daniel Patterson's team started flipping $4 burgers, filling $6 noodle bowls and serving $1 aguas frescas yesterday at their first location of LocoL in the Watts neighborhood of L.A.

Yes, this is fast food. It's a term Choi proudly claims. "This isn't fast casual . . . . This is fast food: $1 items, $2 items, $3 items." Nothing on the menu tops $6.

The restaurant—the first of many, the team hopes—is meant to be a vehicle for change: both for fast food and for neighborhoods, providing a healthier alternative to the processed food that's usually available for under $5 to underserved neighborhoods and jobs for members of the community.

The staff at the Watts shop is all local, and the hope is that much of the customer base will be, too. "Watts is one of the most powerful neighborhoods in L.A. They extended themselves to us and offered us love and kindness. In this mission to feed our neighborhoods in this country especially in our inner cities, Watts is the most powerful in that context," Choi explains. Helping it blend into the neighborhood, "our dining room has no windows or doors. We want to bring outdoor and indoor together," Choi says. The block seating can also be moved around and double as a playground, the chef adds.

When he and Patterson set out to create the concept, they knew it wouldn't work without an affordable price point. With that in mind, "We just [had] to start cooking; we [had] to start thinking about how we can combine the flavors and spread products," Choi says. Their savior is grain, which makes up a large part of many of the menu's items, even if that isn't immediately apparent to diners. That includes the shop's burgs, which are 70 percent meat and stretched with 30 percent grain. "It has sprouting quinoa, tofu, fermented barley and all of these other flavors to bring salt and umami . . . like kombu, fish sauce and salt," Choi says. Those burgers come on a roll developed by Tartine's Chad Robertson, who, along with René Redzepi, is on LocoL's informal advisory board.

Most of the menu will look familiar to anyone who has walked into a fast-food restaurant in the last 20 years, perhaps with the exception of "the Foldie," which Choi and Patterson developed together. "It's its own thing . . . . If a taco, quesadilla, pupusa and tamale had sex and had a child, that's what a Foldie is." It can be loaded with fillings like beans and rice or carnitas for $2.

The plans for LocoL's expansion are ambitious: Shops in Oakland, the Tenderloin, East Oakland and another in Watts are all in the works for 2016. "This is like the Apple I computer; it's like the Wright brothers' plane; it's like the fucking Ford automobile," Choi says. If the project takes off as expected (1,500 people showed up on opening day), the team is eyeing Newark, New Jersey, South Chicago, Detroit, Atlanta and Ferguson, Missouri.

PETE WELLS VISITS THE OAKLAND LocoL

And writes a January 3 review that begins:



[Onsite there's a 10-photo slide show. -- Ed.]

OAKLAND, Calif. — The chefs Daniel Patterson and Roy Choi are trying to do so many things with their insurgent fast-food chain, Locol, that it almost has to fall short somewhere. What I didn’t expect before I ate at the branch here was that the big problem would turn out to be the food.

Mr. Choi, who made his name selling Korean tacos from trucks that prowled Los Angeles, and Mr. Patterson, who has gently pushed California cuisine forward at his restaurant Coi in San Francisco, set themselves an ambitious project. To start, they intend to build a network of small restaurants that people in some of the country’s poorest, most neglected urban neighborhoods can afford. Beyond that, though, the chefs hope that their example of progressive labor practices, interior design attuned to the pulse of the city and cooking that shows responsibility for the health of both customers and the environment will spark a reformation of the fast-food industry. . . .
There's a lot more, about both the concept of LocoL, the setting of the Oakland location that Sam visited, and what he found there. By all means read it for yourself onsite. He has some good things to say, like about the egg sandwich, especially the roll it's served on:
Made from a recipe devised with the help of Chad Robertson, the bread wizard behind Tartine Bakery and Cafe in San Francisco, the roll was the farthest thing imaginable from the squishy insubstantiality of most fast-food buns. Said to be rich in nutrients, and undeniably excellent, the roll represents the potential upside of the Locol experiment.
But then it's on to "the downside," which is "represent[ed]" by the fried chicken. "The most successful thing about Locol," Sam says, "is the feeling inside the restaurant." He likes the whimsical as well as street-smart decor, and says, "I don’t know of any other fast-food chain that has put street culture at the heart of its locations in this way." He notes: "The people working at Locol are engaged, and seem glad to be there. If Locol can create environments like this across the country, it would be a major achievement."

"But first," he goes on:
Mr. Patterson and Mr. Choi have to figure out the menu. I understand why they want to take on fast food, but in the neighborhoods they hope to reach it’s one of the few kinds of food available. Why offer less satisfying versions of what’s already there, when they could be selling great versions of something new?

The neighborhoods Locol is targeting have serious nutritional problems, from hunger to obesity, but the solution isn’t to charge people for stuff that tastes like hospital food.
Working through the menu, Pete writes, he has to remind himself that "it is run by two chefs who are famous for cooking food that people really, really want to eat." And he concludes:
Mr. Patterson and Mr. Choi seem to have thought about the social dimensions of fast food so much that they now see their target audience as problems to be solved, not customers to be pleased. The most nutritious burger on earth won’t help you if you don’t want to eat it.

NEXT, ROY CHOI RESPONDS ON INSTAGRAM


Zero stars. I know many of you want me to respond or snap back at him but the situation to me is much more than that. I welcome Pete's review. It tells me a lot more about the path. I don't know Pete but he is now inextricably linked to LocoL forever. So I'll share with you what I wrote to a friend and our team. We got that PMA: "The truth is that LocoL has hit a nerve. Doesn't mean all people love it, some hate it. But no one is indifferent by it. That's the spirit of LocoL. It has nothing to do with my ego. It's something bigger than all of us. Pete Wells is a component to its DNA. His criticisms are a reflection of us and the nerve that LocoL touches. And our imperfections. Also the nerve of challenging the binary structure of privileged thought patterns and how life is not just about what's a success or failure, but some things are real struggles and growth journeys. We all know the food is not as bad as he states. Is it perfect? NO. But it's not as bad as he writes. And all minorities aren't criminals either. And all hoods aren't filled with dangerous people either. But the pen has created a lot of destruction over the course of history and continues to.. He didn't need to go there but he did. That's why he's a part of LocoL. The power of this change and this nerve that it hits. It compelled him to write something he knows would hurt a community that is already born from a lot of pain and struggle.. Crazy, right? But I see it as a piece to this whole puzzle." #LocoL #Watts #Oakland

FINALLY, TASTING TABLE HAS ITS SAY

Again, there are lots of links onsite.



When Roy Choi and Daniel Patterson debuted LocoL, a revolutionary fast-food chain with a social mission, it seemed they could do no wrong. With locations in Oakland and L.A., as well as a food truck, the beloved chefs were riding high. LocoL serves healthy alternatives at low prices to underserved neighborhoods. The mayor of Los Angeles even attended the opening of the first location last year.

Leave it to New York Times dining critic Pete Wells, who spares no one (as you might recall from last year's damning review of New York's Per Se), to bring the LocoL chefs back down to earth with a no-star review published yesterday.

The short story is that Wells doesn't like the food. Of a bowl of chili, Wells writes, "This was less like chili than like a slightly spicier version of the meat sauce my corner pizzeria pours over penne. Supermarkets sell canned chilis that are seasoned more persuasively." Though he applauds LocoL for its ambiance, the food—which at one point he likens to hospital fare— needs serious work, he says.

So was Wells feeling restless since his last feather-ruffling review? Or is LocoL too good to be true? Choi could have picked a fight if he wanted to but instead addressed the review via Instagram at face value, humbly responding:

[See Roy's Instagram response above. -- Ed.]

"His criticisms are a reflection of us and the nerve that LocoL touches. And our imperfections," he says. Though Choi defends his food, as any chef would, he invites Wells's attention, saying that the critic is now a part of LocoL, and that's just the point. "The power of this change and this nerve that it hits. It compelled him to write something he knows would hurt a community that is already born from a lot of pain and struggle. Crazy, right? I see it as a piece to this whole puzzle."

This is the kind of criticism and response that makes restaurants better. And these days, instead of baseless claims and defensiveness, couldn't we all use a little constructive dialogue?
Again, this may be exactly right. Of course I haven't eaten any of the food in question, so I hesitate to offer definitive-sounding statements. Still, I think we can all agree that "a little constructive dialogue" would be welcome in our era of start-screeching-and-don't-stop-till-your-throat-gives-out. And I think both Pete and Roy were sincerely trying to do as much. It's possible to wonder, though, whether Pete isn't being a teensy bit high-handed in presuming to tell chefs Choi and Patterson what sort of restaurant they should be opening in that Oakland neighborhood. And I'm not sure I'm absolutely clear what Roy is contributing beyond not "snap[ping] back" at Pete.

Still and all, food for thought, no, these pieces to the whole puzzle (as Roy puts it)?
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Sunday, November 20, 2016

Wouldn't you rather be thinking about, say, cookies?

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This is only a sampling of the Food Network website's "Favorite Cookies, Flavor by Flavor" display (click to enlarge). It also includes "Anne Makes Meringues," "Dress Your Gingerbread," "Star Cookie Swap," "Sea Salt Topping," "Your Best Holiday Cookies," and "Gluten-Free and Great."

by Ken

Probably the list of things most of us would rather think about than President Trump has stuff way up top like dental extractions and works its way down to the really ugly stuff. Anyway me, I'm going with cookies.

Yes, yes, I know it's not even Thanksgiving. But that's on the horizon (and even I'm going away for the holiday), which means that we're already almost behind schedule in revving it up for you-know-what. Ho-ho-ho. And while I won't be doing much cookie indulging, as I've been (sigh) eating more or less sensibly, I'm perfectly prepared to think about cookies. So I got kind of excited when I saw the foodnetwork.com banner "12 Days of Cookies," and assumed it headlined an article or some kind of organized section or listing of, well, 12 days' worth of cookies. Instead it tops a Web page that featured more panels than I can count with an endless assortment of features on cookies.

COOKIES! COOKIES! COOKIES!

Don't these look nice, for example?



They're "Valerie's Neapolitan Cookies" (Valerie Bertinelli, that is), and there's a video in the "Stars' Cookie Secrets" grouping.


[Click to enlarge.]

There are also sections headed "Bake Like a Star," "Even More Cookies for Milk Dipping," "Host a Cookie Swap," "Alex's Childhood Sandwich Cookie," "Dozens of Cookies," and "Sandra's Spritz Cookies."

Now isn't that more fun to think about than, you know, the other thing? Happy cookies!
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Saturday, September 12, 2015

Further thoughts about Roz Chast's "HAMLET vs. AMAZON PRIME"

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With updates on my New Phone Day Maybe and
Calvin Trillin's New Yorker Festival eating tour


Surely Roz Chast's "Hamlet hat" will henceforth be de
rigueur for every actor who takes on this marquis role.

by Ken

I'm still preoccupied by this Roz Chast cartoon, from the September 14 New Yorker, which I presented the other day:



I mean, there's just so much to think about here. Like that, um . . . what would you call it?, that heavenward eye roll Hamlet executes as he thinks that soon-to-be-immortal thought: "And yet: FREE SHIPPING." What subtlety, what poignancy, what hope, what inscrutability, what depth is incorporated here! Going forward, how can any actor who tackles the role fail to take it into account? How challenging it will be, though, to make this real and convincing as an expression of the prince's rich inner life.


AND THERE IS, OF COURSE, THE "HAMLET HAT"

From now on, what Hamlet director, what costume designer will feel able to send their Hamlet out onstatge without it?


THEN CONSIDER THE  TOUCH OF THE POWER
CORD SNAKING OUT FROM HAMLET'S LAPTOP


Surely this is a recognition of the historically accurate reality of the primitiveness and unreliability of the battery technology of the prince's time.


FINALLY, THERE'S THE COFFEE MUG THAT'S SO
STRANGELY DISTANT FROM OUR PROTAGONIST


Finally there's the coffee cup so strangely distant from our protagonist, as if it had perhaps been shoved out of reach. Interestingly, we can't tell whether the mug is empty, perhaps expressing the prince's resentment or even disgust at having no one in the castle to refill it, or it contains a quantity of coffee that has cooled to undrinkability, thereby reflecting Hamlet's agonized knowledge that the microwave hasn't been invented yet for convenient reheating. Looming over the whole mug question is the suggestion that overcaffeination is a contributing factor, if not perhaps the root cause, of Hamlet's considerable behavioral eccentricities.

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SOME OTHER NOTES FROM THURSDAY'S POST

As I thought would be understood from the post title, "Nothing to read here -- go on to whatever you had in mind," readers weren't really intended to read the post, except maybe to look at the cartoons -- this one by the great Roz Chast and the "Cocktail Party Heckler" one ("You call that a bon mot?") by Dan Roe. I realize, however, that this may have been taken less as a strict injunction than as some sort of advisory, and so I can't be as harsh as I might otherwise be with readers who apparently went right ahead and read the thing.

For those readers, in the improbable event that they're wondering, I should perhaps report that:

(1) With regard to the event I was celebrating that day, my personal New Phone Day Maybe:

No, I'm no closer than I was then to figuring out what to do upon the completion of my two-year contract using a Samsung Galaxy S4 phone. I suppose this qualifies, at least for the time being, as the option I described like so: "I could, of course, spend nothing on a new phone and continue 'using' (for want of a better word) my S4 -- with the same probable outcome," namely pretending that this time I'm gonna learn how to use the damned thing, déjà vu all over again from two years ago, when I upgraded from my defunct S2 to the S4.

Yeah, let's say that I'm invested in that option, while keeping my future options open. That sounds more like a decision and less like abject whiffing.

(2) With regard to the decision about whether to even try to secure a precious spot on Calvin Trillin's 14th-annual Village-to-Chinatown eating tour:

No, I didn't even try, and maybe that was just as well from the standpoint of my psychic well-being. I've just dug out a report I recalled from the Grub Street website, in which Sierra Tishgart began her "Dispatch from Calvin Trillin's Always-Spectacular 'New Yorker" Food Tour," 2013 edition:
Gaining admission to Calvin Trillin's eating tour for The New Yorker Festival is pretty much the real-life, adult equivalent of scoring a golden ticket to Willy Wonka's chocolate factory. The 40-person event always sells out online within seconds (though several lucky attendees actually scored tickets in the last-minute standby line).
Sierra proceeded to offer a stop-by-stop account of the event, from the day before:
Trillin led everyone from Greenwich Village to Chinatown over the span of three hours, pausing to snack at his favorite shops, markets, and parks while narrating New York's culinary history. The stops on the tour have changed over thirteen years, but recent additions include Xi'an Famous Foods and Full House Cafe. For anyone who wants to re-create the tour themselves — or simply would like some recommendations for awesome places to eat — check out the full list, straight ahead. [Note: Food-source links onsite. -- Ed.]

Stop 1: Murray's Cheese Shop and Faicco's Pork Store
To Eat: Pecorino Toscano and soppressata
Trillin's Take: "I used to go to a meat shop around here where the guy would spook customers by popping pieces of raw pork into his mouth."

Stop 2: Blue Ribbon Bakery Market
To Eat: Savory matzoh cracker
Trillin's Take: "If matzoh actually tasted like this the Jews would have never left Egypt!"

Stop 3: Delivery from an unidentified store at Forsyth and East Broadway
To Eat: Greens sandwich
Trillin's Take:"I don't actually know what kind of greens are inside. Some people love it, and some people hate it. The sandwiches used to cost $1 — not that there's a big profit margin on this trip."

Stop 4: Despaña
To Eat: Tortilla Despaña
Trillin's Take: "The biggest change in eating in America was the Immigration Act of 1965. If you're excluding the Chinese and allowing English people, it's sort of suicidal. It made it okay for middle-class kids to become farmers and chefs."

Stop 5: Saigon Vietnamese Sandwich
To Eat: Vietnamese summer rolls with peanut sauce
Trillin's Take: "Most summer rolls taste like grass. These people make them as they go, so they're not sitting in the fridge for days."

Stop 6: Di Palo's
To Eat: Fresh mozzarella
Trillin's Take: "One of the other things that I used to get here is butter inside of cheese. It's an old way of preserving butter. We used to do this when we had parties: If you cut it in half, you can serve the butter and then eat the provolone cheese."

Stop 7: Bánh Mì Saigon Bakery
To Eat: Vietnamese pork sandwich
Trillin's Take: "Bánh mìs are really the only good argument for colonialism."

Stop 8: Xi'an Famous Foods
To Eat: Spicy lamb burger
Trillin's Take: "This young man [Jason Wang] is very entrepreneurial!"

Stop 9: Full House Cafe
To Eat: Soup dumplings (and a side of jellyfish!)
Trillin's Take: "I heard about this place from reading a piece by Robert Sietsema from the Voice about the soup dumplings here ... and eating jellyfish is [my] revenge for whenever they've frightened me."
Of course I have no idea whether the itinerary was changed in last year's edition of the tour, not to mention what Trillin may have in store for this year. Still, isn't this the next best thing to actually being on the tour? Belated thanks, Sierra!

Plus, for me it offers the advantage that it spares me the potential humiliation of trying to express my admiration to the tour leader for his body of writing -- and I don't mean the food writing and the humor writing, or not just the food writing and the humor writing. In his big-boy capacity as a reporter, he has probably taught me more about the way humans live and deal with each other than any living writer.

Still, as an example of the kind of question I would be apt to ask, I have it in mind to offer a demonstration ripped from history, perhaps tomorrow.
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Thursday, September 03, 2015

Food Watch: 18 grilled-cheese sandwiches made all at once? That sounds like sorcery!

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by Ken

Let's say you saw a tease like the one above. No, let's say you saw the tease above. Are you going to tell me you wouldn't click through? Come on, 18 grilled-cheese sandwiches made all at once! That's not worth a click?

Heck, you don't even have to like grilled-cheese sandwiches to want to see this trick performed. 18 at once? Once you've seen that, is there really anything left to see? Plus, say you have 17 people coming over in half an hour for lunch -- or a nice snack. You've got a couple of loaves of Wonder Bread and a jumbo pack of "American slices," but there's no way you can convert them into 18 sandwiches you can serve nice and hot, is there?

Is there?

Well, not as far as I know. Because by the time you've finished clicking on epicurious.com, this is what you wind up with:



And poor Anna Stockwell, through (probably) no fault of her own, is being booed and hissed before she has a chance to whip out her pair of sheet pans. Now if you had been promised six grilled-cheese sandwiches made at once, you probably wouldn't have gotten as keyed up, but you would probably have thought, "Heck, that's something, six grilled cheeses made at once." I'm not saying you wouldn't have proceeded to check out what's new in breast or penis enlargement, but you would probably have had it in mind to go back at some point and see just how those six grilled cheeses are made at once with a pair of sheet pans.

There's a lesson here for all of us in overpromising.


ANNA, YOU SEE, IS ENVISIONING A MUCH MORE
MODEST HOME INVASION THAN WE JUST WERE


"Sometimes," she says, "you just need a mountain of grilled-cheese sandwiches. And not because you're planning on eating all of them."
Let's say a bunch of hungry kids (or kids-at-heart) are coming over. Let's say there's a pot of tomato soup on the stove. You need to become a one-person grilled-cheese machine. How do you do it?

Maybe if you have a stovetop griddle or get two skillets going at once you can do four, but it starts to get a little tricky to make more than that, and I inevitably end up turning on the oven to keep finished sandwiches warm while I knock out another round on the stove, and quick little lunch of grilled cheese for six people turns into more of a project than I'd signed up for.

But there's an easier, faster way: Cut the stove out of the equation entirely.
What? you say. Cut the stove out of the equation entirely? No way! But you're interested again, right?

If you've managed to rise above the worst of the rancor left from the bait-and-switch that disappeared those other dozen sandwiches, and you still want to know how Anna proposes to pull off this admittedly more humdrum miracle of sexta-grilled-cheese fabrication, here's the secret:
CREATE A GIANT PANINI PRESS IN THE OVEN

The flat metal surface of a heavy-duty 13x18" rimmed baking sheet (or half-sheet pan) is a great conductor of heat, and my favorite tool for getting nice brown and crispy edges on roasted vegetables. So I knew I could get a nice crispy edge on my grilled cheese sandwiches on a rimmed baking sheet, but I wanted to get that griddle-seared crust on both sides of each sandwich without having to flip it. That's where a second rimmed baking sheet comes in—by stacking it on top of the grilled cheese sandwiches then putting the whole "sandwich" in the oven, you mimic the effect of a panini press, searing and crisping both sides of the sandwich at the same time.


Is it my imagination, or do these sandwiches look dry?

As you can perhaps tell, Anna is pretty excited about all this. And she's every bit as excited by her hard-won discoveries after churning out ovenfuls of grilled-cheese sandwiches. Probably you or I would have guessed straightaway that you're going to want to invert the bottom pan but not the top one -- so that you have, you know, a press. Anna gets there eventually, explaining, "Having the bottom sheet inverted and the top one right-side-up yielded the best and fastest melting, since hot air is able to get in on all sides without the rim in the way."

But there's still a problem!
I kept getting unevenly-browned tops and bottoms on my grilled cheeses. So I tried a trick I like to use when I want to get even crispier potatoes, and preheated just the top baking sheet, since the top was consistently less browned than the bottom. Bingo!

ANOTHER BREATHLESS GRILLED-CHEESE
DISCOVERY: MAYO KICKS BUTTER'S BUTT


"First off," we're told, "it's easier and faster to spread than butter (unless yours is completely softened), which makes a big difference when you're making six sandwiches at a time." And an even bigger difference if you thought you were going to be making 18 sandwiches. Of course you could start by working with softened butter. But there's another lesson afoot: "Even more importantly, the mayo grilled cheeses came out of the oven with gorgeously browned, delightfully savory, and shatteringly crisp surfaces. Sold."

"Shatteringly crisp surfaces"? Is this really what you and your five (or 17) guests are looking for?

Now you're probably wondering, "Gosh, Anna, what about the cheese? What kind(s) should I use?" And you'll be glad you asked, because she tested not just lots of cheeses but different kinds,
and the only thing my taste-testers and I could all agree on was that a blend of cheeses, and a sprinkling of salt and pepper on those cheeses, is always good. You can use just one kind of cheese if that's all you've got, but you'll get a richer, more complex flavor if you mix together two or three kinds.
We're encouraged in particular "to mix cheeses with different textures" -- for example, "a bit of Parm mixed in with softer meltier cheeses like mozzarella and Monterey Jack." This, you may be startled to learn, "adds deeper umami and saltiness." No, it's not the saltiness that'll surprise you, it's the "deeper umami." Okey-doke.

Or you might moosh some cream cheese, goat cheese, or crème fraîche with some harder cheeses, to get them to "bind together into a creamy filling." And if you want "plenty of melted-cheese strings when bitten into," then "you want a blend of grated mozzarella, cheddar, and Monterey Jack."

Now, for those other 12 sandwiches . . . .
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Friday, August 21, 2015

Pie (and Google) Watch: DWT commenters, have you had to solve the deadly Google Pie Perplex? Sorry, that's Google, not us!

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by Ken

Usually when I want to add a comment to a post, since I'm already logged into the Blogspot software it knows who I am, and even addresses me by name, or at least the name it knows me by, but even so it asks me to prove that I'm not a robot. Usually I think I can bypass this, which is helpful if I'm not feeling confident about proving my non-roboticity, but when it was just your old-style "captcha," where you just type in a few letters or numbers -- the only problem being that, as we all know, the numbers and letters are frequently stylized into illegibility.

Suddenly today I was confronted by the above mega-captcha, what I think of as a giant Google Pie Perplex. I've spent a fair amount of time looking at this thing, and I'm still not sure I could get through this if I had to.

TO EXPLAIN MY PERPLEXITY --

Let's first number the Possibly Pie Illustrations from 1 to 10, starting with the slice of pie (cherry, would you say?) at the top right as No. 1, then continuing with the rows as Nos. 2-4, 5-7, and 8-10, left to right. On preliminary examination, three of the 10 specimens can be dealt with easily. No. 1 may not look terribly appetizing, but it seems almost certainly pie. Clearly No. 9 is watermelon; I suppose for our purposes we don't need to concern ourselves with why what has been done to it has been done to it. No. 4 also seems an easy call; it could be peanuts, or it could be larvae, but whatever the heck it is, it's hard to see how it could be pie.

I would apply basically the same reasoning to No. 3, which in this poor-quality thumbnail looks kind of like a bunch of fresh-out-of-the-oven loaves of bread. It could be other sorts of similarly shaped baked goods, but I'm hard put to get "Pie" out of it.

It would appear that, in addition to No. 1, the leading candidates are Nos. 2 and 10. No. 2 actually appears to be sitting in a pie tin, and since that could certainly be a crumble top we're looking at, I would be inclined to put this on my Pie List. I'm a lot less sure about No. 10, though. Yes, it's round and flattish, certainly pie qualities, but that top surface doesn't look very pie-like, does it? It has more of a brioche-y or babka-esque look, no?

Certainly a case could be made for No. 7. If we accept the top of No. 2 as a crumble pie top, can we be sure that in No. 7 that isn't some sort of lattice top? Of course with No. 7 we don't have, as we do with No. 2, the reassuring size and shape of pie-ness, and I don't know what exactly the latticework of No. 7 is sitting on top of, but I'm far from sure that we can with certainty put this on our "Not Pie" list.

No. 8 seems clearly a cake, but I worry about this too, keeping in mind the example of Boston cream pie.


Yeah, you could cut me a slice of this Boston cream pie.

No. 8 doesn't necessarily look like even a modern adaptation of the classic BCP (yum!), though again I don't think we can rule this out. And what about the possibility of some other sort of confection analogous to a BCP? I don't happen to be familiar with any known varieties, but that isn't to say that there aren't any. Or it could just be some baker's takeoff on the concept. Of course a BCP itself is in fact a cake rather than a pie, but it's got pie right there in the name: Boston cream pie. If there were an image of an actual BCP, would that go on the "Pie" or "Not Pie" list? Would you want your captcha-plus life to depend on getting the call right?

Which leaves Nos. 5 and 6, and I can't say that I see any pie in either. But then, I'd have a tough time saying what it is that I do see, and No. 5 in particular has so much going on in it that I would hardly be flabbergasted to learn that somewhere in there there's pie of some sort. This seems less likely with No. 6, which I'm almost prepared to put on the "Not Pie" list, but that leaves enough questions that I'm not feeling terribly confident with my pie scorecard.

Frankly, I don't know what all to make of this assemblage. Somebody presumably thought it would be clever as well as functional, which on my scorecard makes that someone 0-2. As a matter of fact, I've changed my mind, and think I would like an explanation after all for why that heart-shaped chunk was cut out of the slice of watermelon -- and then left right beside it. I'm not sure we dare leave these questions unasked, considering where this sort of behavior might leave if left unchecked.
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Saturday, July 25, 2015

Food Watch: How will you be celebrating National Lasagna Day (coming up Wednesday)?

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by Ken

It's so hard keeping track of all these important holidays! At least we've got some advance notice for this biggie. Once I was alerted to the momentous event, I turned up an entry on a slightly odd nevertheless clearly caring site called Altius Directory, which I didn't know anything about (and apparently wasn't curious enough to explore further).

It's safe to say, though, that the people at Altius, or at any rate somebody at Altius, have/has lasagna in their (his/her) heart, and that lasagna-heartnedness will take us a long way in our anticipation of Wednesday's festivities. Starting with a capsule description of what the stuff is:
Lasagna is wide and flat pasta often with wavy corners. It is usually served in alternating layers having cheese, sauce and generally other ingredients like meat sauce, or other pieces of vegetable. It is generally the central cuisine of Italy with several regional variations. In few areas, specifically in the southern provinces of Italy, the sauce is mostly a simple tomato sauce and ragu, whereas in other parts, Northern Italy, a Béchamel sauce is more popular. Lasagna is a famous dish in other parts of the globe, from Europe to the Americas.
Then there's the obvious question: So where did the stuff come from?
ORIGIN OF LASAGNA

There are three myths on the origin of lasagna, two of which manifest it as an ancient Greek dish. The most popular story is that lasagna originated in Greek which says that it is a flat sheet of pasta dough divided into strips. The word lasagna is still facilitated in Greek that refers to flat thin unleavened bread.

The second theory says that the term lasagna originated from the Greek lasagna that means "trivet or stand for a pot", or "chamber pot". The Romans adapted the word as "lasanum", that means "cooking pot" in Latin. The Italians use this word to refer to the pot in which lasagna is prepared. After some time, the name of the food also adapted the name of the serving dish.

According to the third theory the term is taken from the 14th century English recipe "Loseyn". This believe came into existence due to the similarities in both the process described in preparing the dish and the two terms.

SO HOW DO YOU SCORE SOME DECENT LASAGNA?

Here I'm afraid the Altius entry lets us down a little. It points out, utterly correctly, that not only is it "a great effort" to "tak[e] the time out to cook lasagna," but that at the particular time of year when National Lasagna Day falls, "running the oven for an hour in the scorching heat is not that much appealing." True that! The entry goes on to suggest that "you can visit a local Italian eatery to relish all of the lasagna you want, without actually cooking it yourself," noting further that many Italian ("or even other") restaurants offer discounted or even free servings of lasagna on the occasion of National Lasagna Day. However, I'm afraid the entry has more faith in restaurant lasagna than I do.

Undoubtedly there are restaurants that serve decent lasagna, but I would be reluctant to entry my National Lasagna Day celebration to one of them without a reliable recommendation. And the people most likely to be qualified to appreciate a recommendable version are people who normally get their lasagna from an authentic Italian mother or grandmother. So really, if you don't have access to one of them, you're very likely screwed.

In my case, back in the day a Jewish grandmother was an altogether satisfactory substitute. Mine learned her lasagna basics relatively late in life from the Italian neighbors across the road from her summer home. From those basics she applied her (excellent) kitchen instincts, and the results were simply lovely. When she could be persuaded to do it, or more likely when she herself felt an itch to do it, she always used the bottom half of her regular old-fashioned oval roaster, producing a giant oval's worth of the stuff to a depth of about six inches. The result could feed even our band of hungry eaters for a couple of weeks, the best part being that each time the stuff was reheated, it got better.

As I say, though, it usually took persuasion, for two reasons that I recall. First, that it was "so much potchke," which I'm sure it was. And second, that with "all those cheeses," it was "so expensive." I'm almost relieved that she's not around now to price out her recipe. In our day and age, making a tub of lasagna in the quantity my grandmother did might require a bank loan.


THE SKILLET ALTERNATIVE



As it happens, just recently I had a link for something called skillet lasagna, which roused my curiosity enough for a click-through, and I have to say, it looked kind of interesting. It's made possible, of course, by the advent of "no boil" lasagna noodles.

As I discovered when I tried to re-find the link I'd been looking at, there's now skillet lasagna all over the Net. The version pictured above isn't the one I was looking for. It's from Food Network, and it looks kind of gross, and looking through the recipe doesn't make me want to make it the way the other recipe kind of did. But you could try it. If you do, let the rest of us know how it turned out.
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Sunday, July 05, 2015

Food Watch: 23 minutes with legitimately legendary food writer Mimi Sheraton

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by Ken

The other day I was making an effort to tame my monstrously swollen e-mail inbox, and came across this podcast from WNYC's "The Sporkful" (which boasts that "it's for eaters, not for foodies"), in which "Sporkful" keeper Dan Pashman interviewed the legendary food critic and writer Mimi Sheraton live onstage at the Food Book Fair in Brooklyn in May. Mimi has always been one of my most trusted and valued food writers, and I knew I wanted to clear the necessary 23 minutes to listen to the interview, and finally I did, and I'm glad I did. It's a treat to hear her still going strong as she close in on 90 -- still so feisty and food-smart, or as Dan puts it, "as wry and fearless as ever."

So I wanted to share the interview, and for those who can't drop everything for 23 minutes, Dan's posted written report as well.
Legendary Food Critic Mimi Sheraton Hasn’t Been Hungry In 60 Years



Posted by Dan Pashman
May 18, 2015

Mimi Sheraton is famous for her strong opinions and her toughness.

She was the first woman to hold the position of restaurant critic at The New York Times, where she was known for her fearless reviews. When a famous French chef [who might or might not be Paul Bocuse -- Ed.] physically accosted her after she gave his restaurant a negative review, she stood her ground.

"I expected him to do something like that," she later told People magazine. "I'm sorry I didn't hit him in the face."

Mimi is pushing 90 now, but she remains as wry and fearless as ever. So I was a little bit nervous when I interviewed her live onstage at Food Book Fair in Brooklyn.

For one thing, Brooklyn is her home turf -- she was raised on Eastern European home cooking and Manhattan clam chowder in South Brooklyn's Sheepshead Bay. For another, even though I love eating, I'm no culinary expert. But Mimi has dedicated six decades of her life to researching and writing about food.

It turns out there was no need to worry. Although she was merciless on the topic of kale (her verdict: "Yuck!"), Mimi took it very easy on me -- even when I talked a little smack about one New York chef [hint: it's Wylie Dufresne -- Ed.] chef she admires.

Mimi is really one of us -- a dedicated eater in search of her next delicious meal.

Mimi tells me she once packed 104 different pastrami and corned beef sandwiches into her car while "researching" an article for The New York Times. (Her husband was at the wheel.)

"We were almost overcome by the aroma," she says. "It's crazy."

That kind of attention to detail is evident in Mimi's new book, 1,000 Foods To Eat Before You Die. From schmaltz and dan dan noodles to frozen Milky Way candy bars and caviar, the book is a wide-ranging journey through her life in food.

"Ridiculous detail?" she protests, when I try to liken her methods to The Sporkful's obsessive approach to eating. "I would say complete."

And when I ask her the best way to eat a bagel with cream cheese and lox, she doesn't hold back. (It's a topic that's near and dear to her heart.)



"Well first of all, you have to find a good bagel, and that's very difficult," she says, adding that many bagels today are "only good for cleaning wallpaper."

Listen in to the full episode to hear which type of lox Mimi prefers and get the low down on her bagel construction method, which prevents the cheese and lox from squishing out the sides at first bite. (It's ingenious!)

(And for more on bagels, check out our entire episode dedicated to this classic New York food -- featuring Brooke Gladstone of WNYC's On The Media and former congressman Anthony Weiner.)

Mimi also has a weakness for frozen Milky Way candy bars:

"The textures melt down as you bite in, and you have the experience of the chocolate, the caramel, the solid cream filling," she says. "It’s just a wonderful sensuous feeling on the palate."

Whether she's describing a candy bar or caviar, Mimi knows how to talk about food. That's the mark of a true professional. And, as she explains to me, sometimes food writing is more about professionalism than deliciousness.

“Whether you’re in the mood or not, it’s your work and you have to do it," she says. "It has nothing to do with hungry. I haven’t been hungry in 60 years.”

Eaters, if you liked my conversation with Mimi, you can listen to a bonus clip from the audience Q-and-A on SoundCloud -- where Mimi reveals the one dish she ever refused to eat.
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Thursday, June 04, 2015

Food (and Technology) Watch: "Costco pizza-saucing is the most mesmerizing thing you'll see all day" (Thrillist's Lucy Meilus)

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Take the Costco Pizza-Saucing Machine Test:
Bet you can't watch just once


by Ken

I've classed this originally as a "Food Watch" dispatch but felt it necessary to add the "(and Technology)," since it can unquestionably be argued that the function performed by this gizmo is of greater mechanical than gastronomic interest.

The clip has been around since January, I see, but it would never have occurred to me to go looking for it if it hadn't just appeared (or reappeared?) on Thrillist under the title I've imported for this post.

"Good luck doing anything (other than maybe going to Costco) today," says Thrillist's Lucy Meilus. "This hypnotizing video of Costco's automatic pizza sauce dispenser doing its thing is worth watching through 10-20 times. And, if you're so inspired, it's also probably not a bad time to go get some."

Lucy does raise a provocative question:
But also, is pizza-saucing by hand so grueling of a process that this is necessary? Like, come on.
I think we can all guess what Costco's answer to this would be, from both the gastronomic and the productivity standpoints -- consistency of product in the first case, and efficiency and skill-level requirements in the second.

THERE IS, I DISCOVERED . . .

. . . an entire online Costco Pizza Video Library, including these favorite titles:

Costco pizza


How to make a Costco pizza in 30 seconds



COSTCO DISCLAIMER

Although the author did in fact belong to Costco for a year, and in fact frequently enjoyed the pizza (and, even more, the rotisserie chickens), that was a number of years ago -- he discovered that, nice as it was to have a Manhattan outlet, it wasn't all that useful in the absence of VSC (Vehicular Schlepping Capability -- his route home involved two buses onto and off of which all purchases had to be hand-schlepped. He wishes to make clear that since that year there have been absolutely no ties between him and the Costco enterprise. Shop there, don't shop there; eat the pizza, don't eat the pizza -- it's all the same to him. If, however, you happen just to have purchased an extra rotisserie chicken. . . .

"Don't fuck with the chicken! For real!"

"A dude almost jumped you. He put his hands on you for chicken. You almost got your ass whupped in Costo over some chicken. . . . Don't fuck with the chicken! For real!"
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Monday, May 11, 2015

Business Watch: The K-cup people "K-capitulate" (not my pun!), reopening their closed 2.0 system to strange un-pre-cupped coffee

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The Breakfast Blend is a light roast, and so has practically no flavor (is breakfast time a "no flavor" zone?), but Green Mountain sells a quite drinkable medium-roast Vermont Country Blend -- and a dark-roast French Roast for people who've been trained by Starbucks to prefer their coffee beans roasted till they screech for mercy.

by Ken

Since my only contact with Keurig-style coffee-making is in the office, where we have a very nice machine, but one that's apparently first-generation (and in our office we don't do a whole lot of upgrading). I had never encountered such a beast until the company installed one a couple of years ago, complete with a dedicated hookup to a supply of filtered water.

"At will" caffeine delivery is one of the few perks the company provides us, and before the Keurig system, we did it via one of those commercial double-pot electric drip machines. But people were constantly not bothering to make a fresh pot, or else the bottom third of a pot would remain frying on the heat plate for hours and had to be dumped. And of course there was lots of cleanup.

In all these ways the Keurig system was a dramatic improvement. The ground-up coffee inside a K-cup isn't exactly fresh (who knows how long ago it was ground up and inserted?), but at least the thing is sealed, so it's never too stale. And it's certainly much cleaner, much more convenient. You want coffee, or tea, you just brew it to order! Voilà! Through trial and error, our office manager settled on an assortment of coffees and teas to keep on hand. The system works.

Since, again, all of my K-cuppery happens in the first-generation World of Keurig, it wasn't till a couple of months ago that I saw something online which clued me in that since 2014 there has been a brave new 2.0 World of Keurig, in which everything has changed -- or at least the allowability of using reusable K-cups has. That has been, in a word, eliminated.

Which made basket cases of customers who've been rendered captive by the alllure of the Keurig system for providing relatively quick and convenient hot beverages of all sorts, or maybe by the investment they've made in machines that use K-cups. Now, belatedly, the company is admitting, sort of, that it screwed up.

Maybe I should say that I enjoy our office machine, which is a higher-end model than I would ever buy for myself, in that it is designed for, or at least allows, installation of a direct water source, so that in theory there's hot water ready to brew the second you insert your K-cup. This also means, I assume, that the water is being heated 24/7, even on weekends when we hardly ever have anyone on the premises. But what the heck, it's not my electric bill. Also, it still always takes some time to start brewing, and often quite a lot of time. At those times I'm sympathetic. I have that feeling a lot, where it's just so hard to get started. But the upthrust is that the brewing process isn't always that quick. At home I use a little electric-drip coffee-maker, and it really doesn't take that much time to brew a four-cup pot. ("Four cups" in official parlance. In real-world cups, or at least my-world cups, I call it two.)

Of course at home I also use my own coffee. True, I usually use a Melitta filter, but then, I usually use each filter twice, and even if I used them only once, that wouldn't jack the per-cup cost up anywhere near the cost of a cup brewed Keurig-style. As I discovered when we started using our Keurig machine in the office, and I once I got over my fear of it I came to kind of enjoy the convenience, while the machines aren't prohibitively expensive, the K-cups are really, really expensive. How expensive?

As the Washington Post's "Morning Mix" editor, Fred Barbash, reported a couple of days ago in a piece called "Keurig’s K-Cup screw-up and how it K-pitulated Wednesday to angry consumers." (If you think that pun is awful to read, try typing it.)
Once a consumer buys the coffee machine, the coffee drinker may spend as much as $50 to $60 per pound on the coffee contained in the K-Cups, considerably more than the cost of even Starbucks’s breakfast blend, which goes for about $11.95 per pound.
Ouch! I had figured out all on my own that those little suckers were pricey, but, well, ouch!

But coffee-drinkers aren't total saps and patsies.
Some years back, thousands of Keurig single-serve machine fans found a cheaper alternative, however — refillable, non-disposable K-cups, little plastic coffee grounds holders, which the company graciously sold under the brand of “My K-Cup.”

Not only was it cheaper, but the coffee drinker had more choice, as “My K-Cup” could be filled with any brand of coffee off the shelf.

AND THEN CAME 2.0
In August 2014, when Keurig introduced its “2.0” line of coffeemakers, it stopped making “My K-Cup” for it and made the machine incompatible with any K-cups already in existence, as well as with any unlicensed disposable K-cups made by other companies.

It was $50 a pound and a trail of waste — or nothing.
Here's where it gets really gnarly. I mean Keurig's official response.
“The My K-Cup accessory and other reusable filters are not compatible with Keurig 2.0 Brewing Technology,” the company explained on Facebook, “because the brewer has no way of determining what beverage is being used or how much coffee is being added, and therefore cannot adjust to factors such as brew strength and amount of water, which could represent a safety concern…”
Oh, fercripessakes! A safety concern? They're protecting us? Is anyone buying this? Anyone at all?
Clever competitors moved quickly to fill the void, with ways to, in effect, hack into the Keurig technology. The Rogers Family Company’s “Freedom Clip” was sold patriotically as “Our Gift To You and Everyone …. Freedom Of Choice!”

“We at Rogers Family Company® believe that your right to choose any option is imperative. That’s why we have developed this easily installed ‘Freedom Clip’ for Keurig 2.0® brewers. Just place the clip in your new brewer and it will see all k-cup type pods as ‘Authorized K-Cups®.’ This clip is our gift to you. Now go forth and brew with freedom.”
"Freedom Clip"! I like that! And somehow I don't think I would like being the company on the opposite side of the battle line. It turns out that Keurig eventually had the same response.
Worse for Keurig, as executives acknowledged Wednesday during its quarterly earnings briefing, sales of Keurig machines tanked and they began to accumulate on the shelves across the country. Sales of brewers and accessories declined by 23 percent, the company reported. Its stock price fell 10 percent in after hours trading.
And "with that," says Fred, "Keurig’s CEO did what he had to do. He capitulated Wednesday in a call with market analysts.
“We heard loud and clear from consumers,” said Brian Kelley, “who really wanted the My K-Cup back. We want consumers to be able to bring any brand and bringing the My Cup back allows that.

“My K-Cup was a terrific addition for the consumer. It wasn’t used a lot, but for the consumer it was a nice element to have if they were given coffee as a gift. . . . We took it away because My K-Cup wasn’t going to work with our new system.

“Quite honestly, we were wrong. We underestimated the passion the consumer had for this. We missed it. We shouldn’t have taken it away. We’re bringing it back.”
So you see, it was just an unfortunate cooincidence that the 2.0 machines wouldn't take those outlaw cups. And the company's concern for customer safety was just so intense, what could they do?

I guess we found out Wednesday.
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Friday, April 24, 2015

Food Watch: "Herbing up" with Ellie Krieger

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Ellie is interviewed by Family First's Marijo Tinlin.

by Ken

Since we were just talking about food in my 3pm PT post, from the New Fulton Fish Market, I thought this might be a good opportunity to slip in this latest mailing from Ellie Krieger, a registered dietitian who's an interesting combination of a nutritionist who's serious about both nutrition and food (I've got two of her cookbooks). Ellie has had her own Food Network show, Healthy Appetite with Ellie Krieger, which I enjoyed a lot, and she maintains an active website (not to mention the usual Facebook and Twitter stuff, which I won't mention) in addition to sending out periodic nutrition-themed food bulletins to her mailing list, which is definitely worth signing up for. (She's also scorching hot, but that's neither here nor there, right?)

In addition, as Ellie's Washington Post bio says, she's
a healthful eating columnist for The Washington Post's Local Living section, and writes a weekly Nourish recipe for The Washington Post’s Food section. She is a registered dietitian, nutritionist and author. Her most recent cookbook is Weeknight Wonders: Delicious, Healthy Dinners in 30 Minutes or Less."
Ellie's subject this time out is "Ten Ways to Herb Up," which links to a WaPo column of hers, "The health benefits of herbs," with tips on buying and storing fresh herbs as well as these herbing-up tips.
10 ways to herb up

Using fresh herbs is a great way to add both flavor and health to your food. While there are plenty of inspiring herb-centric recipes from all over the world to explore, like pesto, Tabbouleh salad, or chimmichurri sauce, you don’t need any special instructions or culinary skills to get more herbs into your life. When you move beyond thinking of herbs as a mere garnish and start to see them as the major culinary player they can be, a whole world of healthy taste opens up to you. You can simply add them to foods you are already making. Here are ten ways to get you started:

* Add chopped fresh or dried parsley or dill to your scrambled eggs.
* Tuck a few leaves of mint and/or basil into your ham or turkey sandwich.
* Pile fresh cilantro leaves onto your turkey or veggie burger.
* Toss handfuls of fresh tender herbs—parsley, basil, cilantro, mint-- into your basic green salad,  treating them more like a lettuce than a seasoning.
* Add a generous pinch of dried oregano or thyme to your vinaigrette-type salad dressing.
* Mix a handful of fresh Italian parsley or dill into your boiled or mashed potatoes.
* Rub a mix of dried rosemary and thyme onto your chicken breast before grilling
* Muddle some fresh mint or basil leaves in a glass then fill with iced tea or sparkling water and a twist of citrus.
* Spruce up jarred pasta sauce with a handful of fresh chopped basil leaves.
* Stir fresh basil, parsley or mint leaves with grilled zucchini or sautéed green beans.

Click here to learn about the health benefits of herbs and buying and storing tips.
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Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Food Watch: What do you get when you cross a blondie with a s'more? (Besides a mess)

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Kelsey's s'mores bars: You notice that marshmallow creme oozing all over the place? Don't say I didn't warn you. But again, it could have been worse!

by Ken

In fairness, it's not as bad as I was thinking when I first saw the link to a combination of a blondie and a s'more. Which was kind of a relief, because I noted that the concoction comes from Cooking Channel's Kelsey Nixon, and I like Kelsey, and don't think of her as a purveyor of mindless food excess.

These days, though, I dread hearing of yet more drastic combinations seeking to cram as many of the foods known to man into a single pile of crap. You know, like the slice of pizza topped with a slab of moussaka nestled between two eight-ounce ground-brisket burgers slathered with sautéd mushrooms and onions and three kinds of cheese, all sandwiched between two chocolate-chip-banana waffles -- battered and deep-fried, of course. And served with a side of fried chicken.

I realize that even as I'm straining to be outrageous, the likely response is a yawning, "That sounds so day-before-yesterday."

Whereas if you look at what Kelsey has done, she has merely reconfigured the thing, of a cookie- or cake-like nature, on which the chocolate and marshmallow have to rest to constitute a s'more in the first place. And you could fault the logic of nudging your standard blondie in the direction of s'moredom by tossing in a cup of graham-cracker crumbs along with a cup and a half of flour to make the "crust." Or, as she puts it:
Just because there isn't a fire doesn't mean you can't enjoy s'mores. Try these fantastic bars that include everything in a classic s'more: graham crackers, mallow creme and chocolate. Think of these as s'mores just packaged differently!
I don't happen to be a s'mores person myself. I never encountered them growing up, and to a grown-up sensibility they seem to me way more mess than they're worth. And while Kelsey's bar format might seem to mitigate the mess factor, with that marshmallow creme oozing in mid-bar, I'm not so sure.

You'll note in the recipe that when it comes, first, to laying down the marshmallow layer, the instruction is to "spread the marshmallow creme in an even layer, using a rubber spatula that has been sprayed with nonstick spray," and then when it comes to laying the upper half of the dough on top of this, you're instructed first to roll it out on a premeasured square of wax or parchment paper and then "working carefully, place the dough on top of the marshmallow layer." No, I don't think so, thank you.

But don't let me stop you. At least it's not sitting atop a key-lime tart and topped with a banana split. Unless you choose to do so, that is.
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Saturday, April 11, 2015

Food Watch: "One Grilled Cheese Is Not Enough, Two Grilled Cheese Are Too Many" (Beejoli Shah)

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by Ken

In case your calendar isn't already marked, tomorrow is National Grilled Cheese Day. In case you already have plans that don't involved grilled cheese, or a one-day celebration just won't cut it in your faith, April is also Grilled Cheese Month.

Last year here at DWT we really did it up, National Grilled Cheese Day ("Don't Forget to Celebrate National Grilled Cheese Sandwich Day").


Yes, we had it all: not only the $100 grilled-cheese sandwich but an assortment of variations on the theme that I can now reveal were made up in-house with a view to seeing how much assault your tummy can withstand. We even got in on the parallel celebration that is National Licorice Day. Naturally there's a temptation just to reprint last year's post as a sort of Holiday Classic, but that would be resting on our laurels, and we don't do that here. Okay, not too much.

Unlike certain other sites, like Punchbowl, which is serving up last year's tribute to National Grilled Cheese Day with nothing changed that I can see except the year. Well, two can play at that game, so in the following picked-up artwork just pretend that we've changed the year from 2014 to 2015:



But for a fresh take on the subject this year, we turn to The Frisky's Beejoli Shah and a post that by uncanny coincidence has the exact same title as this one: "One Grilled Cheese Is Not Enough, Two Grilled Cheese Are Too Many." Now are you going to tell me this isn't an attention-getter?

"The worst part about cooking for yourself," Beejoli begins, "is portion control."
It’s not that I’m incapable of cutting a recipe in half, it’s that I have no clue what I’m going to do with the remainder of the rapidly decaying cutlets pathetically lounging in their styrofoam tray, and that’s how you end up with 43 panko-parmesan chicken nuggets when to be quite honest a solid 11 would have sufficed the cravings for a snack that invoked a simpler time.
This lands her, perhaps unfortunately, in the quagmire of an attempted definition of the term "comfort food." As soon as she wrote, "A lot of what I eat when I cook for myself falls into this comfort food arena," she should have had the sense to backtrack, or at least not get sucked in. Comfort food is comfort food; we know it when we smell it, and I say let's just leave it at that.

The upshot is: "I make grilled cheese sandwiches a lot." And who doesn't? Certainly nobody who's read this far in a post titled "One Grilled Cheese Is Not Enough, Two Grilled Cheese Are Too Many." Does this really require historical inquiry? I can't help thinking that Beejoli has been drawn into yet another byway too many:
As with all diminishing returns, the amount of joy those sandwiches invoke in me now is significantly lessened in comparison to when I used to grill two for myself in the early evenings of my senior year of high school, before rushing back to campus to cheerlead at varsity basketball games. In those days, and the ensuing college and post-college years, I could put away two grilled cheese sandwiches no problem, maybe even contemplate a third, before rushing off to wherever I was going. I was always going somewhere in those days because that’s what being young is, you’re like a shark, if you stop moving, you die.
But at least this lands us where we want to be. "Nowadays," she writes, "putting away two sandwiches is significantly harder."
One sandwich never leaves you feeling fully sated, but two sandwiches are half a sandwich too many, pushing you towards uncomfortably full as you try to wash down the remaining halves of butter-soaked bread. And even from a non-gustatory standpoint, two sandwiches are just too much. One grilled cheese sandwich, made sparingly in times of absolute hunger or emotional low points, is a good jump start to being comforted by food. It doesn’t bring you close enough to the finish line, but it’s a start. But get to that second sandwich and you’re just the person who hasn’t grown up in a lot of ways, culinary or otherwise.
Focus, Beejoli! Focus!
I still haven’t mastered portion control in my eating for that reason, or boundaries in my life for similar reasons. But what I have figured out, even if I don’t know how to move past it: one grilled cheese is not enough, but two grilled cheese are too many.
Point taken. And the point isn't to somehow "move past it," but to recognize it. Of course now that we live in an era of thousands if not tens of thousands of possible grilled-cheese combinations, there's theoretically not issue of monotony in testing that hypothetical second grilled cheese. Theoretically, anyway. Just from a conceptual standpoint, isn't the idea of that second grilled cheese going to the well once too often?

I don't say I've never done it, and won't ever do it again. But at least now I will have a clear sighting of the line I'm crossing. Which is that while "one grilled cheese is not enough," two is just too many. It's nature's law.
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Wednesday, February 25, 2015

Culture Watch: Is this the end of the line for the NYC (or at least Manhattan) coffee shop?

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Because the owner of the Waverly Restaurant, at Sixth Avenue and West 4th Street, owns the building, he doesn't have to deal with an insatiable landlord.

by Ken

Since the New York City coffee shop has been a disappearing institution for several decades, especially in Manhattan, it's hard to believe that it has reached a crisis point, but a rash of recent closings, leaving behind a lot of places hanging on for dear life, suggests that maybe this is the case.

In a sense this is the same story I wrote about Thursday in connection with the tenuous future of Greenwich Village's Caffè Dante ("In breaking news, this 100-year-old café either is or isn't closing -- and there's a "waitress with a big mouth" angle!"), which last year responded to a doubling of its rent by doing a major makeover, trying to become more of a full-service rather than a dessert eatery and to draw a more upscale crowd, without so far showing a lot of durability.

Sometimes we don't adequately consider the impact of rapidly rising fixed costs like real estate on the kinds of businesses you can operate on a particular patch of real estate. For example, I didn't hear a lot of mention of this factor in the fading fortunes of Radio Shack. Once upon a time it was a place you could go for all mannter of electronics parts, and it was invaluable as such.

Since those days it's not just that the demand for such goods has dropped off sharply, although it has, but that you have to sell an awful lot of dollar parts to pay those upwardly spiraling rents. Of course Radio Shack realized this ages ago, and tried to adapt. For a while it seemed to have found a niche of sorts in cell phones, but that market seems to have passed it by.

The same thing is true with food. If your business is dougnuts and you sell them for say a buck a pop, that's an awful lot of doughnuts you have to sell. This is a lesson that Dunkin' Donuts clearly absorbed, and while I'm sure they're happy to continue selling doughnuts, if that's all their customers were buying, they'd be going the way of Radio Shack.

This week's food-business-extinction scare involves a NYC standby, the coffee shop. I always think of the coffee shop" as an urban institution, but I never know about the regionality of these terms, or for that matter of the institution itself. (When I moved to New York at age 12 and was first sent by my mother on an errand to the "candy store," I went looking for a storefront with windows filled with chocolates and other candies. Wrong.) So I guess maybe I better define what I mean by a coffee shop.

No, it's not Starbucks or any of the still-newer breed of ever-more-wildly-overpriced coffee purveyors. It's a homey-type restaurant, usually with a large enough menu to accommodate widely diverse gustatory inclinations, where it's possible to hang out for a while over a cup of coffee and maybe something to munch on, and the whole thing is cheap -- or at least cheaper than the kind of joint we might more formally think of as a "restaurant." By way of illustration, I've dabbled in a number of the "restaurant makeover" shows, and the coffee shop emphatically isn't that. It's the tier below, the kind of place that Gordon Ramsey wouldn't even be caught dead in.

To return to our primitive "price point" model, as rent and other fixed costs soar, it can obviously make a big difference whether you're charging, say, $7.50 or $15 or $30 or $75 (or, God help us, more) for an entrée. And so the sit-down restaurants at the lower end of the spectrum, with prices necessarily rising, have clearly been having a tough time competing with the profusion of fast-food joints.

And that's one of the differences between the story we're about to look at regarding the current wave of coffee-shop closings and the ones that occurred piecemeal over recent decades, not to mention the kind of eatery represented by Caffè Dante. A lot of those businesses didn't so much lack for customers as they lacked for the kind of customer that could support their rapidly rising rents. In this story you'll note, however, that a common theme among the newly endangered establishments is an actual fall-off in business.

The other difference for me -- and this is probably entirely personal -- between this story and the Caffè Dante one is that places like Caffè Dante I've respected but never much patronized, whereas coffee shops once played an important role in my life, if only for the chance to get out of the house and relax while having somebody serve me. (I was always perfectly comfortable sitting at a counter, so as not to waste a seat at a table.) This applied especially to breakfast -- it was a frequent weekend treat, and not all that enormous an indulgence, to take the morning paper into a coffee shop for a nice basic breakfast. But your nice basic breakfast has been especially hard hit by those rising costs faced by local eateries. And over these same decades, as my rising costs have chomped away at my disposable income, I've pretty much stopped eating out, except for occasional takeout from the place across the street from me.

I realize we haven't talked here about the quality of the food. It varies (varied?) a lot from coffee shop to coffee shop, but if you patronized a particular place regularly, you learned the things it did more serviceably. On the whole I would much rather take my chances there than at what now passes for a "fine dining" establishment. From my very occasional experiences of such place, combined with accounts from the few friends whose judgement in such matters I trust, I'm scandalized by the quality of the swill served there. It's no wonder the reinvented restaurant industry depends so heavily on food novelty; their target patrons don't seem to know or care much about the quality of the food they're served.

One last point before we proceed: I think we need to deal with, if not actually resolve, some confusion that seems to have arisen with the term "diner," which I'm getting the feeling has sort of gotten mangled with "coffee shop." Once upon a time "diner" referred to a related but still distinct category of eatery, a place that, even if it wasn't actually located in a converted railroad diner car, had that look and feel. In my mind, though, it's still not the same thing. But it is true that over those same decades when coffee shops have been disappearing from the city, and in particular from Manhattan with its prevailingly higher rents, more places have taken to calling themselves diners.

You'll note that the head on our DNAinfo New York is "Classic Manhattan Diners Fear for Survival After Recent Closures," but the associated slide show is called "Survival of the Manhattan Coffee Shop" and "coffee shop" is the term used in the captions.
Classic Manhattan Diners Fear for Survival After Recent Closures


Jose Torres of the Viand Coffee Shop on Madison Avenue brings out a bowl of chicken soup.

by Rosa Goldensohn

MIDTOWN — Two traditional Manhattan diners, Cafe Edison and La Parisienne, have closed since December, along with the Upper West Side’s Three Star last year. The closures sparked fear that the city diner — the vinyl-boothed institution where regulars can nurse a coffee for hours — is endangered.

Managers and workers at some city standbys that are still hanging on told DNAinfo New York that business had declined over the years, and said they worried that rent hikes would drive them under as well.

“Landlords get greedy,” said Jimmy, the manager of the Applejack Diner on Broadway near West 55th Street, who like many employees interviewed for this story declined to give his last name. He feared that a bank or pharmacy could vie for the diner's spot and get the Applejack evicted. “Try to get a long-term lease before [the rent] goes up,” he advised.

Even better, be your own landlord.

The owner of the 55-year-old Waverly Restaurant on Sixth Avenue in Greenwich Village also owns the building, according to manager John Captan. Were it not for that, Captan said he doubted the diner would have survived.

“All I hear is that there is no diners in New York City anymore, that’s what people say,” Captan said from behind the cash register at the restaurant. “Less and less diners every year in New York. I think it’s because of the high rent.”

New York diners, where menus are huge and unchanging, are vulnerable “because they cook a lot,” Captan said. At the Waverly Restaurant, open 24 hours, everything is made in-house, Captan said, from soups to specials.

“We cut the steaks here,” he said.

The Waverly has five cooks on at a time. “Over here, you cannot hire just anyone," Captan said, "and when they know how to do the job, you have to pay them better than basics."

He said chain restaurants have lower payroll costs because many don't cook food from scratch. “All they do is warm it up," he said.

Captan said the restaurant has made some changes to keep up with the times, adding a credit card machine two years ago and accepting Seamless orders online.

But at the Viand on East 61st Street, the staff still only takes cash “and Rolex,” joked manager John. He said business had slowed over the years, but the restaurant was surviving without a major overhaul.

“Maybe that’s the secret,” John said. “Hasn’t changed here. The same. It’s like what they call stopped in time, something like that.”

An espresso machine brought in 20 years ago and the recent addition of soy milk were the only shifts John could recall.

Mary Callahan, a former Upper East Sider visiting Viand from Palm Springs, Calif., said she had been coming to the diner for decades.

“The ice cream is the best,” she said, adding that she used to buy up five chocolate sundaes at a time, then take them home and store them in her freezer. "But the tuna salad’s also good.”

Lynn, a waitress at the Applejack for the past 13 years, also saw few changes over the years.

“Nothing really,” she said. “Same old thing.”

FOR FURTHER READING -- NOMINATE
YOUR FAVORITE NYC DINER(S)

Now DNAinfo New York is asking, "Which City Diners Deserve to Be Local Landmarks? (links onsite):
DNAinfo New York wants your nominations for your favorite local diners — the greasy spoons that you think excel at slinging hash and deserve to be protected so they can remain open.

Three classic city coffee shops shut down so far this winter, and some workers at those still standing say they fear a mass extinction of the classic New York diner. Many fear a rent hike could force them to close.

“All I hear is that there is no diners in New York City anymore, that’s what people say,” said John Captan, manager of the Waverly Restaurant in Greenwich Village. “Less and less diners every year in New York. I think it’s because of the high rent.”

We want to hear from you: Tell us about the diner you think deserves protection either in the comments or by tweeting to @DNAinfo.
I assume they don't mean literally "landmarks," because in the actual landmarking process, almost none of this would be relevant; the primary concern would be the historic and architectural value of the building, though some consideration of its use(s) is germane. Ironically, literal landmarking wouldn't protect the buildings' use as coffee shops -- just the buildings themselves. But I suppose there's no harm in soliciting readers' notions of which such joints deserve our patronage.
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