Inkwell: Authors and Artists

    
I loved 249! 

Dang, now I will have to buy your book. Can one have too many books on
cooking?
  

    
AND I want one of those care packages! Things are *rough* here in
Pennsylvania.
  

    
I think (and I'm sure John'll back me up) that you can have too many
cookbooks, but maybe not too many books *on* cooking, not if you think
about what you're doing and welcome other philosophies and approaches. 

But now I find myself wondering if there'll be another Chinese holiday
meal on Christmas chez Thorne. 
  

    
Not to mention that, given the chapter in Mouth Wide Open about John's
midnight snacks, I was surprised to see that the Stubborn Self does on
occasion yield to the Conscience. 
  

    
Mysteriously, a bottle of Shaohsing rice wine just arrived at my door,
and it seemed only right to open it and share my first impressions
with all of you. (No regrets that I can't share an actual taste, since
that would leave nothing for my holiday cooking plans.) So: it comes in
a bottle not unlike those that contain Johnny Walker Red: this says
class. There are two government warnings on the back regarding the
dangers of alcohol: this says real booze. Top removed, and open bottle
held to nose. Mmmm. The first thing that comes to me is the aroma of
Chinese dried mushrooms, soaking in a bowl. There's another, sharper
smell there, too. It is also familiar... sprouting wheat berries,
maybe. First sip: flavor fills the mouth, very different from sherry,
because the taste is plant-intensive, not fruit-intensive. This must be
what whisky would be like if it were 27 proof — soft, tasting of
fermented grain, and not the smallest hint of sweet. What gets me about
the lingering aftertaste is how CHINESE it is, by which I mean, how
congruent with other Chinese seasonings — it melds right in. How
interesting, and how grateful I am, CJP, for this chance to taste it.
As for Holiday Cooking Plans, Chinese, right now I'm contemplating
drunken chicken. 
  

    
Rick, I do agree with Ed, but I would add that you also can't have too
many of MY books. 
  

    
Hear hear!
  

    
Heh,

I like reading a variety of books -- and I will have to get your book.
I always hesitate to join conversations for books I have not read --
but I have to say I have enjoyed following this one. 

(I have to get (gowers) latest offering too. So many books, so few
dollars. 

Way back from your introduction is this; "Cooking is about
doing the best with what you have...and succeeding."

Living in the middle of nowhere, exotic ingredients are illusive. That
is more than balanced with fresh tomatoes, eggs, potatoes (I had no
idea how GOOD a fresh potato is!) and scrapple ;)

Since I discovered Penzeys, and thai cooking -- my life has greatly
improved. That and the Outlaw Cook website has been fun to check in on.
My dad loved fried egg sandwiches. Simple. Good.
  

    
I'm so relieved that you got the Care package in one piece, John, and
that the initial testing of the wine passed muster!  I was really
delighted that you detected the scent of dried mushrooms in the wine;
that's a perfect description of that woodsy undertone.  Hm, since
(danwest) needs Chinese ingredients, too, maybe I should start up a
little mail order business.  Perhaps some sort of barter system could
be set up.

Ah, fried egg sandwiches... the husband's favorite, especially with
too much light soy sauce added at the last minute.  He'd eat one every
day if the warden allowed it.

John, I was rereading MWO and started thinking -- obsessing, really --
about the wild fennel pollen you mention in the chapter "Fiore di
Finocchio."  Bourdain talked about it in his Tuscany episode (I think),
but I can't figure out what the pollen is really used for and how much
is needed.  Is it like finely-ground fennel seeds in flavor, or does
the heady fragrance Weinzweig described make its way to the taste buds?
 Does it change during cooking?  Is it ever used in desserts, like
perhaps teacakes?  Have you made anything else interesting out of it? 
We have scads of wild fennel around here, and I'm wondering whether I
should collect the flowerheads next summer for DIY pollen.
  

    
POTATOES. Rick, I'm with you there. I didn't really know potatoes at
all until I moved to rural seacoast Maine. And I'm not talking about
the Big Sky potato world of northern Maine but what local farmers grew
out in their market plots. Variety is not only the spice of life, but
it brings ordinary foods to life... no longer the generic carrot, the
plain humble spud. Matt and I did drive up to Aroostook County in
search of Green Mountain potatoes — the potato that made Maine
synonymous with potato until the price was paid for monocropping. Now
they're hard to find, but we got hold of a 50 lb bag that lasted us the
winter. Green Mountain potatoes are delicious and they made the best
pan-fried potatoes I've ever tasted. 
  

    
I will have to go on a quest sometime. Nothing better than pan-fied
potatoes with fresh prepared horshradish.

How did you store your potatoes? Mine grow roots in my pantry. I
turned some very rooty ones into mashed the other night. they were a
little soft, but came out just fine, just had to trim more.
  

    
ROOT VEGETABLES. Rick, you should consider building a simple root
cellar. http://tinyurl.com/ytdskz The place we rented in Steuben
(Maine) had a dirt cellar, so we just pushed an old dresser against the
north wall down there and kept our potatoes, onions, carrots, etc. in
the drawers. A basement with a cement floor won't work as well,
especially if the basement is heated. I knew someone who dug a hole in
his yard just large enough to hold an abandoned top-opening freezer.
That went into the hole, and there was the root cellar. Depends on how
far down the ground freezes solid where you live. 
  

    
And for those of us who simply have apartments? German supermarkets
assume you only want to buy potatoes in 10kg units, which is cheap
enough, but there are times when I just don't make anything with them
for a while and I wind up with a jungle. I'd think I could keep them
three weeks or so, especially at this time of year, but apparently not.
  

    
FENNEL POLLEN. It is true that its aroma is intoxicating, but its
taste is a subtle set of variations on fennel/anise; none of the
hammer- on- your- thumb assertiveness of fennel seeds. I find it
especially tasty in any sort of simple fish stew, with shrimp (see
recipe in MOUTH WIDE OPEN), and with pork. The thought of using it in
baking seems a perfectly good notion, especially as a replacement for
anise. As to harvesting your own: go for it! Remember, though, that
what grows wild in California were originally escapes from gardens,
whereas the wild fennel pollen gathered in Italy comes from the old
original wild plant. I say this because there's a noticeable difference
between the two, but not necessarily a displeasing one. (Again, see my
comments in MWO in the source notes.) 
  

    
Ed, somehow I imagine the cellars of German apartment houses to be
made of leftover scenery from The Third Man. Couldn't you find some
nook down there? Or are the rats too fierce? The neighbors too...
grabby?
  

    
On the other hand, being apartment-dwellers ourselves, we're resigned
to buying potatoes on a need-to-cook basis. Too bad, too, because you
can almost buy a 50 lb bag in the fall for the same price as a 5 pound
bag in the winter or spring. We keep a 25-lb bag of Thai rice in the
pantry, instead. Speaking of which, when I bought the latest sack,
yesterday, there were posters in the store window announcing the
arrival of the 2008 rice crop. Tell me, anyone, how they pulled THAT
off? 
  

    
Hah: yesterday, as part of this guidebook I'm helping write, I went to
the Natural History Museum here, and there's an extensive section
devoted to native German wildlife, including, of course, mice and rats
and martens, all of which were shown in dioramas surrounded by
household stores which they'd ripped open and started eating. I
probably could use the cellar, but...I'd rather not. 

Clearly, you need a Thai stockbroker.
  

    
2007 CE is 2550 in the Thai Buddhist calendar. So that rice was harvested
442 years ago.
  

    
The Indians urge you to bury basmati in a ceramic jar for ten years.
Bet that stuff's *good*!
  

    
There is money to be made for an apartment/portable root cellar,
something that keeps the right temperature and humidity levels. I
wonder how far it would be from a wine cellar...

Hmm

Humidity: For long-term wine storage, a relative humidity of about 65%
at approximately 55°F is ideal, however, a range between 60% and 80%
is acceptable. Wine is stored on its side so that the wine is in
contact with the cork at all times, keeping the cork wet.

From http://education.vigilantinc.com/wine-experts.asp

and

Root Cellar temps here;
http://waltonfeed.com/old/cellar4.html#temp

Seems to be good for
Dry hot peppers
Pumpkins
Winter squash
Sweet potatoes
Green tomatoes (up to 70 degrees F is OK) 

Would need Cold and Moist 32-40 degrees F and 80-90% humidity for
Potatoes
Cabbage
Cauliflower
  (short term)
Apples
Grapes
   (40 degrees F)
Oranges
Pears
Quince
Endive, escarole
Grapefruit 
In that range.
  

    
RED MANDARIN DRESS ~ As I mentioned above, I like to spend the last
part of an evening wrapped up in a mystery or thriller, and right now
I'm reading the last Inspector Chen novel by Qui Xiaolong. The locale
is Shanghai, and the characters in the story often meet in eating
places, high and low, and in one of these, a place known for its fresh
seafood. Live sea bass strewn with ginger and onion slices is ordered.
What follows is a direct quotation from the book:

      The waiter brought over a large fish platter in hurried steps.
It was perhaps the last course.

      "Look at the fish," Rong said, raising her chopsticks. "Its eyes
are still rolling."

      The bass, covered in brown sauce, appeared nicely cooked with
its tail fried golden. The waiter helped with a long spoon, coming up
with a white filet. The meat was tenderly done, but the fish's eyes
seemed to be still blinking.

      "There is a special recipe for the fish. You stuff ice cubes in
the mouth of the live fish, fry it in a large wok keeping its eyes out
of the sizzling oil, take it out in less than a minute, and pour
special sauce all over it on a platter. Every step has to be precise
and quick. Then serve it hot. That's why the waiter was trotting out of
the kitchen."

Earlier in the story, another pair of characters at another restaurant
eat "drunken shrimp," a dish where live shrimp swim in seasoned
alcohol (rice wine?) and are plucked out with chopsticks and eaten
whole, shell and all (although I imagine the chewed shell is spat out,
though the author doesn't say so — in fact, one of the characters
decides to swallow one whole and finds it a painful process). 

I share this because such dishes are so alien to me that I don't know
how to think about them very clearly. How much is innate cruelty an
aspect of appetite? One thinks of the happy pigs on BBQ signs. I think
it was Jack London who observed that if a roast turkey could take in
the eaters who were about to devour it, what it saw wouldn't be bared
teeth but expressions of benevolent appreciation, as to a child who had
just recited "Horatio on the Bridge."
  

    
I don't remember who said this first, but one comic said something
like if there's a smiling chicken on a box of fried chicken and a happy
cow on a hamburger shop, what is supposed to be in that jar of
Gerber's baby food with that cute baby on it?
  

    
>How much is innate cruelty an
aspect of appetite?

I wonder if there is any consciousness there of the creature eaten,
except as a vehicle for delivering freshness and vitality to the eater.
 Thinking here that the cruelty we perceive is just completely
incomprehensible to those who are doing the eating.
  

    

I wonder if this topic sets a record for the longest run past the official
window? I guess food is a good motivator.
  

    
Actually, I think some of Neil Gaiman's Inkwell appearances have had
to be rolled over, but I've been enjoying this a lot and see no reason
to stop as long as John has time for it. 

Meanwhile, in blatant imitation of the Thornes' Chinese Thanksgiving,
it appears I'll be eating Malaysian food on Christmas with some of
Berlin's infintesimal Malaysian community who've gotten tired of there
not being a decent Malaysian restaurant here. A new cuisine for me.