Knap! Knaetter! Knak!

Snap, Crackle and Pop are all brothers and they are elves.  They were adapted from Kellogg's radio ad and were first illustrated by Vernon Grant in 1933.

Snap is the oldest and is the problem solver, fixing what his two brothers create.  Snap sports a chef's hat.  Crackle is the fun-loving middle child.  Crackle is also the leader of the group and the supposedly, smartest of the three. Crackle wears a red-and-white-striped hat.  Pop is the jokester, youngest elf; Pop doesn’t take anything seriously and he wears a band leader's hat.

According to Mental Floss Magazine (2008) "A Second Helping of Cereal Facts" there was a fourth brother, Pow.  - "In the 1950s, [Pow] was supposed to represent Rice Krispies’ explosive nutritional value.  Sadly, four proved to be one cereal gnome too many, and Pow was given the pink slip."

I grew up on Rice Krispies, usually heaping three or four tablespoons of granulated sugar atop each bowl.  I enjoyed the ads as a youngster, but who knows, maybe I would have enjoyed them 33% more had there been Pow...

Interestingly enough, the names Snap, Crackle, and Pop are changed from country to country in order to better fit into each culture, this process is called glocalization.  Here are some of them (via the Wiki):

• Belgium - Pif! Paf! Pof!
• Canadian French - Cric! Crac! Croc!
• Denmark - Pif! Paf! Puf!
• Finland - Poks! Riks! Raks!
• Germany - Knisper! Knasper! Knusper!
• Holland - Pif! Paf! Pof!
• Italy - Pif! Paf! Pof!
• Mexico - Pim! Pum! Pam!
• Norway - Piff! Paff! Puff!
• South Africa - Knap! Knaetter! Knak!
• Sweden - Piff! Paff! Puff!
• Switzerland - Piff! Paff! Poff!
• United Kingdom - The mascots were portrayed, for a while, as cows instead of gnomes.

What's your favorite? - I like South Africa's...

OPEN

photo by Antoinne von Rimes

The Germans have a word for it: Schadenfreude.  It loosely translates as taking pleasure in other people’s misfortune.  I experience this gleeful emotion every time I watch a show like the CHOPPING BLOCK, NBC’s reality, restaurant, cooking-game show which seems to be a blend of the Last Restaurant Standing, the Apprentice, and that fiasco with Rocco di Spirito a few years back.

The Chopping Block is back on the air after suddenly being dropped off the schedule a couple of months ago.  I guess that was because of low ratings or something, but happily for me it is back on now.

I like the show, even with the over the top monarchial attitude of host Marco Pierre White, noted chef and restaurateur.  Chef Pierre White seems to believe he is Machiavelli giving advice to members of the de Medici clan.  Chef Pierre White gives basic lectures on the blatantly obvious, but it seems to be brilliantly acute advice for these contestants.

I do not know if it is the hot lights or the cameras that make people on Reality shows lose every ounce of common sense and drains them of the ability to think.  There should be a mathematical equation which states: As the value of the prize increases, the contestant’s I.Q. and ability to reason decreases, and this is inversely proportional to their greed.

I am constantly amazed at the dumb things people do on these shows.  It is beyond me why people who have never worked in a restaurant would want to open a restaurant, and who are convinced they can operate a successful restaurant.  I can cook a mean breakfast, and can cook eggs like the no one on earth, but you do not see me jumping to the conclusion that I have the knowledge base to open a little breakfast nook someplace and make a fortune on my superior ability to roll a French omelet .

No, what I just stated to you was how I am a good cook----eggs mainly.  I did not say I knew anything about cooking eggs day in and day out for weeks on end, dealing with suppliers, employees, banks, landlords, acts of god, and the government.  No.  I said I like to cook eggy things and I am pretty damn good at it — nothing more.

The people on these shows have not taken a true stock of their situation, abilities, and limitations.  Most of them would be better situated as caters, private chefs, corporate chefs, and backyard/weekend soirée chefs.

The cowboy world of the chef owner operator is a rarified world reserved for those men and women who leap tall buildings in a single bound, pull the mask off the old Lone Ranger, and would slap Mike Tyson simply because it would feel good.  The kind of people who become successful chef owner operators are more than often neurotic, misanthropic, angst ridden, demon plagued, narcissistic, ego maniacs who are just as likely to end up in prison as in front of a hot pan.

These creatures called chef owner operators are akin to the frontiersmen of days of old.  Those brave psycho bastards who did not go out into the wild to discover unknown territory, but went out there to be where no one else was because they could not stand other people.

This is not the caliber of individuals who populate restaurant Reality shows.  No, these people/contestants are acting like some guy who just got his girlfriend to pay for dinner and he now thinks he can be a pimp.  Well, pimpin' ain’t easy and neither is running a restaurant.

Running a restaurant is war.  Running a restaurant is like running the U.S. State Department in high heel Manolo Blahniks and carrying a heavy tray over your head.  Running a restaurant is what God plans to do when he retires.

Running a restaurant makes for very good comedy though.  Watching the Chopping Block is as close to Three Stooges slapstick comedy as it gets.

So, watch the Chopping Block, and thank your lucky stars you are not one of those poor bastards clawing for their own restaurant to run.  I for one will be home holding my side while I laugh an even bigger stitch into it as these unprepared dreamers try to catch a tiger by the tail.

Schadenfreude... damn good word.

The BBQ Song

From the folks who brought us the Guacamole Song, Rhett and Link, comes the BBQ song.  I wish I had enough talent to write funny jingles about food... oh, that would be the life.  These two are quite talented and, I believe, are even sponsored by Alka Seltzer.  Brilliant!

Best quote from the song?

"Alabama has the strangest thing I've seen in my barbecue days

their barbecue sauce is WHITE, made out of mayonnaise"

Durian Chips!

Dried Durian ChipsI saw these at a local Vietnamese sandwich shop and I couldn't resist. 

I've never eaten durian before and part of my instincts told me that, after everything I've heard about their odor, I shouldn't open them in my house...

but I did anyway. 

To my surprise, there was not any unpleasant smell, let alone one that knocks the wind out of you.

Because of its smell, stories abound about how durian is banned in public places like malls and subways in many parts of South-East Asia. 

It is also rumored to be forbidden in many hotels.

Sometimes referred to as the "King of Fruit," it is said to throw a pungent, sulfuric nose like an athlete's sock or a rotting corpse - but what makes people crave the fruit is that the horrible smell of durian is only to be outdone by its delicious taste.

Quotes pulled from Wikipedia and Urban Giraffe:

• British novelist Anthony Burgess writes that eating durian is "like eating sweet raspberry blancmange in the lavatory."
• Chef Andrew Zimmern compares the taste to "completely rotten, mushy onions."
• Anthony Bourdain, while a lover of durian, relates his encounter with the fruit as thus: "Its taste can only be described as...indescribable, something you will either love or despise. ...Your breath will smell as if you'd been French-kissing your dead grandmother."
• Travel and food writer Richard Sterling says... "its odor is best described as pig-s#!t, turpentine and onions, garnished with a gym sock. It can be smelled from yards away.
• Henri Mouhot, Food Naturalist:  "On first tasting it I thought it like the flesh of some animal in a state of putrefaction.
• "The durian's smell is its outstanding feature - it is pungent, a bit like a clogged drain or rotten eggs."  From the Financial Express.
• "It has been likened to rotting onions, unwashed socks and even carrion in custard, but the most accurate description by far is that of a sewer full of rotting pineapples." - BBC

A company called Greenday makes these dried durian chips in Thailand.  Inside the bag were 20 or so thumb-sized bright yellow moons.  They looked freeze dried and had no moisture to them whatsoever.  Some were a little porous, some were smooth.

They smelled more closely to banana chips than anything else, and they tasted quite similar too.  There was a distinct sulfur, eggy-like note but balanced with a complex sweetness.  Although they were dried, they yielded a creaminess when you began to chew them.

I tried pairing them with a lager and a Savignon Blanc.  Both seemed to compliment them well.  I think that the dryness of the drinks countered the sweetness of the durian.  They weren't cloying like dried mango can be, but again, sweet like dried banana chips.  Although the contents didn't look like much, the 50 gram bag was unusually filling.

Although this wasn't the fresh fruit, which I can't wait to try, there was nothing unpleasant to it at all.  I wonder what makes durian so repulsive then before it is dried.  We'll call durian chips a durian primer for me, unlike this 15 month-old who goes straight for the good stuff...

Oh Belgian ale, why are you so divine?

Belgian Ale.  Light but full bodied.  A hint of fruit.  Possibly the best BBQ beverage ever.

The other day, a sunny but cool day (unusual for Sacramento anytime after St. Patrick's day) we ventured to the farmer's market and bought some fresh, wild coho salmon (we just missed the wild king).  Next, we headed to Taylor's Market which is known for their old-school butcher shop.

This was our first visit and we enjoyed the charm and friendly, helpful staff.  We did pick out some meats but the treat was their selection of Belgium ales.  I picked out the La Chouffe as I hadn't tried it before and they didn't carry Chimay's white label (just the blue & red).

What caught my attention was the description of a white ale with spice, this is due to the addition of coriander (what makes the Lost Coast's Great White Ale one of our favorites).  My first sip was just as I had hoped.  Full, malty, sweet - and while I finished my glass long before the salmon was done, I was in a great mood and ready to chow down!  Incidentally, we paired the fish with a grilled corn and potato salad with red onion, tomato, ricotta and basil.

Yum-o!

Cocaine Found in Red Bull Cola

The Associated Press reports that Austria's health ministry found detectable traces of cocaine samples of Red Bull Cola energy drinks... keep in mind that this is Red Bull's Cola and not their ubiquitous Energy Drink.  They use the Coca leaf as a flavoring but are supposed to remove any cocaine.

Before you go out and buy a case, Red Bull Spokeswoman says that any traces are very slight and do not pose a health risk; and the company maintains that its Cola is "harmless and marketable in both the U.S. and Europe."

So how much did they find? - 0.4 micrograms/liter.

To put things in perspective, the EPA allows a maximum threshold of arsenic in drinking water of 10 micrograms/liter.  That's 25 times more than how much cocaine the Austrians found. 

A Selfish Request

photo by Antoinne von Rimes

This is an open letter to god, the supreme, supernatural being - or to whatever deity handles culinary matters.

Dear Great One:

I, a lowly human, offspring of Adam, request that you create a culinary fairy godmother, jinni, magical elf, or fantastical creature of your choosing to fill in the gaps, and/or black holes that plague the culinary world. My requests are as follows:

1.   I want California barbecue to taste like Southern barbecue. I want the same quality, taste, and awesomeness found in the South to be replicated here in the Golden State. Barbecue here sucks, and mail order Q takes too long and the best places in the South don’t know what the Internet is.

2.   The taste of all bad, retched food should last only three thousandth of a second in your brain before it morphs into the taste of cotton candy or bacon with only a fleeting memory of the afore-tasted bad food.

3.   I want quality Austrian pastry to be the standard for all pastry in the world. Sorry, French people, I love French pastry too, but you guys do so many things so well in the culinary world, whereas, the Austrians had to specialize in one area and command it.

I do not want to walk into another bakery in America and see the same selection of desserts, made in the same way, with the same ingredients, all tasting the same exact way. I want to bite into something new, and have my head explode with flavor and taste, and question myself if I was truly alive before I tasted this magnificent concoction of sugar, fat, flour and flavoring.

4.   I want there to be the equivalent of gourmet soup kitchens for poor gourmands who can not afford to eat at places like the French Laundry, Nobu, Fleur de Lis, Danko, and Le Cirque…. I want famous and talented chefs to operate an establishment where say for twenty bucks you could eat like Bernie Madoff, and enjoy the best of the best of everything in a grand dinning hall with free flowing wine. And this place should be wherever I happen to live.

5.   Every waitress in the world should be no less beautiful than Padma Lakshmi, and she should always give me her (real) phone number when I ask. Ok, that’s not really culinary, but I don’t care.

6.   There should be a global take-out teleportation system where you can get authentic ethnic cuisine from every country in the world within five minutes of ordering.

7.   Apple fritters should be as nutritious as broccoli, less fattening than water.

8.   Sugar should not make you fat, and the more you eat the fitter you get.

9.   Anything deep fried should be good for your heart.

10.   My favorite restaurants should never close---EVER!

 

That is a small portion of my list. I know you are busy creating universes, and making sure the cockroach survives anything thrown at it, but I would appreciate some action on my request. I don’t want to sound petty, but I don’t think it’s too much to ask for.

I mean, if you can make a quantum particle be in two places at the same time you can certainly conjure up a little Kazoo type creature to handle the above mentioned request. I have faith that you will.

Sincerely,

Antoinne von Rimes

Human being

Offspring of Adam

Patiently waiting

Burger Snob

photo by Dave Koch

When it comes to burgers  I am a snob. I do not put things inside my burgers.  If you put things like salt, pepper, bread, eggs etc. etc., into your burgers then you are not making hamburgers you are making meatloaf…patties.  All a good burger needs is quality meat and some salt and pepper on the top while cooking.

1. The meat is everything.  The meat should be freshly ground. I grind my own with my handy Kitchenaid grinder attachment for my Kitchenaid mixer.  I use 7 bone in chuck (please cut the bones out before you grind), and round (London broil) or sirloin steak.  If the 7bone in chuck doesn’t have enough fat for you, then pick up a package of beef short ribs for more fat content.  Remember fat is flavor.  A lean burger is a dry burger.

2. I go to neighborhood ethnic meat markets for meat.  Here in San Francisco I go to the Mission district or the little Saigon neighborhood and buy my steaks for hamburger.  The quality of the meat is good.  Although, most places carry Standard and Select cuts, not Choice, and never Prime, you will save a couple of dollars per pound by shopping in areas where the clientele is more price conscious and less into a pleasant atmosphere and getting a latte while they shop.

3. Let your burger rest at least three minutes before you bite into it.  Remember a burger is just a chopped steak designed to be eaten with your hands.  By letting your burger rest you retain all that juicy goodness.

4. A thin burger is a wasted burger. Burgers should be at least a half a pound each.  Anything less than a half a pound ends up being dry and tasteless.  Unless, you make them the size of billiard balls, and then they would be called meatballs.

5. The best burger is a flame kissed grilled burger, but if your landlord is adverse to an open flame inside your apartment then use an indoor grill pan, and heat the grill pan until very hot before you slap that precious piece of meat on it.  Putting a burger in a cold pan to cook is the same thing as steaming it.  Hot grill pan, cold meat: tasty burger.

6. As I stated above, I only put salt and pepper on the outside of my burgers, but I use kick-ass salt and pepper.  I use gray salt and coarsely cracked black pepper, think, steak au poivre.  The cracked black peppercorns roast and release an intense earthy aroma, and when you are chewing the burger the pepper and salt kick up the flavor of any condiments you put on the buns.

7. Buns: brioche is my choice.  I buy brioche buns ( I live in San Francisco, remember) split them, butter them and toast them in a medium hot pan.  If you can not find brioche buns use Kaiser rolls, or slices of challah can work too.

If you follow my burger making regime, I guarantee you that the only time you will eat a fast food burger is when you are stranded in the middle of nowhere and your only alternative is eating your shoe, or a “clown” burger

Oh, last point, there is only one time when it is acceptable to eat a fast food “clown” burger, and that is when you are in a foreign country (outside of the U.S.A) and they call burgers things like: hamburgesas, or hambughars, or American style hamburgers.

You can always trust McDonalds to give you a safe, consistent, trustworthy product anywhere in the world. Use them like you would one of those iodine pills you put into suspect water while traveling.

 

Happy burger-ing, people.

Are You Addicted to Bacon?

Created by Recipe Star

We've covered bacon extensively in the past with articles like I Love Bacon - and Bacon Toys, Want to Live Longer? Eat Bacon, and Can Baconaise Save Your Life? - the love affair with our salty friend is no secret. 

So when I saw that the wacky world of recipestar.com made a quiz "Are You Addicted to Bacon?" I needed to find out.  Luckily, it isn't as bad as I thought (64%).

Here is a 5 minutes video from How it's Made on bacon making, very interesting:

Speak Less English

photo by Waldo Jaquith

From an unattributed joke email my father recently sent me:

Q: Doctor, I've heard that cardiovascular exercise can prolong life. Is this true? 

A: Your heart is only good for so many beats, and that's it... don't waste them on exercise. Everything wears out eventually. Speeding up your heart will not make you live longer; that's like saying you can extend the life of your car by driving it faster. Want to live longer? Take a nap.

Q: Should I cut down on meat and eat more fruits and vegetables?

A: You must grasp logistical efficiencies. What does a cow eat? Hay and corn. And what are these? Vegetables. So a steak is nothing more than an efficient mechanism of delivering vegetables to your system. Need grain? Eat chicken. Beef is also a good source of field grass (green leafy vegetable). And a pork chop can give you 100% of your recommended daily allowance of vegetable products.

Q: Should I reduce my alcohol intake?

A: No, not at all. Wine is made from fruit. Brandy is distilled wine, that means they take the water out of the fruity bit so you get even more of the goodness that way. Beer is also made out of grain. Bottoms up!

Q: How can I calculate my body/fat ratio?

A: Well, if you have a body and you have fat, your ratio is one to one. If you have two bodies, your ratio is two to one, etc.

Q: What are some of the advantages of participating in a regular exercise program?

A: Can't think of a single one, sorry. My philosophy is: No Pain...Good!

Q: Aren't fried foods bad for you?

A: YOU'RE NOT LISTENING!!! ..... Foods are fried these days in vegetable oil. In fact, they're permeated in it. How could getting more vegetables be bad for you?

Q: Will sit-ups help prevent me from getting a little soft around the middle?

A: Definitely not! When you exercise a muscle, it gets bigger. You should only be doing sit-ups if you want a bigger stomach.

Q: Is chocolate bad for me?

A: Are you crazy? HELLO Cocoa beans ! Another vegetable!!! It's the best feel-good food around!

Q: Is swimming good for your figure?

A: If swimming is good for your figure, explain whales to me.

Q: Is getting in-shape important for my lifestyle?

A: Hey! 'Round' is a shape!

Well, I hope this has cleared up any misconceptions you may have had about food and diets.

And remember:

"Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways - Chardonnay in one hand - chocolate in the other - body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming 'WOO HOO, What a Ride"

AND.....

For those of you who watch what you eat, here's the final word on nutrition and health. It's a relief to know the truth after all those conflicting nutritional studies.

1. The Japanese eat very little fat
and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.

2. The Mexicans eat a lot of fat
and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.

3. The Chinese drink very little red wine
and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.

4. The Italians drink a lot of red wine
and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.

5. The Germans drink a lot of beers and eat lots of sausages and fats and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.

CONCLUSION

Eat and drink what you like.

Speaking English is apparently what kills you.

Sharper Than A Serpent's Tooth

photo by Antoinne von Rimes

I am the king of procrastination and delaying the inevitable. I am constantly doing things in half measures knowing that it would be best to do things the proper way the first time. And the sad truth for me is that this weak will to do the smart thing the first time leads me to accumulate a mountain of second rate things in my life. The biggest pile of junk I have is ineffectual culinary gadgets.

And, I love gadgets, but I always tend to gravitate to the less expensive option rather than just plopping down the cash for the better quality option first. I guess, I do this because I don’t have a lot of money to plop down in the first place and I am always skeptical of how much better the expensive option can be over the cheaper alternative.

This is why I have a battalion of useless to ineffectual knife sharpeners at my house. I do not mean steels. I am referring to implements designed to sharpen your knives, but in actuality leave you with a slightly less dull version of the previously very dull knife you had. I guess in the world of cause and effect, and advertising a less dull knife fulfills the contract of a knife “sharpener”. It does not, however, produce a knife which I consider sharp.

I never thought of sharp as a subjective term, but I guess it is because to me sharp means having an implement with an edge capable (at a minimum) of slicing through meat, and vegetables. I have quality knives (Wusthuff Trident) and have tried several gadgets to sharpen them, but they all produced a slightly less dull version of my already dull knives. That is, until, I bought a Diamond whetstone ($40.00) knife sharpener from my local hardware store, and sharpened my knives with it.

Now my knives are sharp, really sharp. I’m talking Tarzan, Crocodile Dundy, throw a strand of hair into the air and slice it sharp. I do not know why I waited so long to buy a whetstone. It’s like when you make an embarrassing mistake and you are too afraid to live up to it.

Like, say, if you got really drunk one night with your wife’s kid sister, and you make-out with her in some dark bar because her mouth makes that same funny smile her sister’s used to before it started yelling at you all the time about helping around the house with dishes and laundry and stuff. And you know you should tell your wife about the whole stupid thing, but you feel that would be even worse…for you. So you don’t say anything and walk around waiting for the day that she will find out and you will be forced to confess.

Well that’s the feeling of having a drawer full of useless knife sharpeners and knowing you should buy a whetstone, but you don’t and you continue to deal, live and operate with slightly sharp knives. It’s an awful feeling. But, once you have bought the whetstone and sharpened all your knives, scissors, flatware, and anything with an edge you can get your hands on, you feel so much happier and relieved.

Kind of like how you feel right after your sister-in-law goes through her Twelve Step Program and tells your wife about that night in April of ’07, and your wife slaps you, hard, and kicks you out of the house. For that one moment as you stand looking at the neighbor’s lights go on at 2 am, and seeing them all staring at you while you stand frozen on your front lawn in your underwear, hearing a police siren in the background, one octave lower than your wife’s never ending screeching at you: you are blissfully relieved that you do not have that “feeling” anymore. Only, this new “ feeling” last only until your wife’s lawyer informs you that your underwear is the only thing she intends to leave you with.

Eat More Duck

photo by Antoinne von Rimes

Eat more duck?  I don’t know why we (Americans) don’t eat more duck.  I just had a pan roasted duck breast with coca sauce, served on a bed of lentils with cipollini onions the other day at Citizen Cake here in San Francisco, and throughout the meal I could not stop asking myself why I don’t eat more duck.  I love duck.

Duck has so much more flavor than chicken, and roasted duck fat and crispy skin surpasses that king of fatty delicacies bacon any day.  And, I really love bacon.  But, duck is another realm of sensuous eating pleasure.  Duck is like an affair with an exotic beauty who barely speaks your language.  Bacon is a fling with the hot bartender around the way.

Duck is never mentioned in those poultry scares.  I cannot remember any duck recalls, bans, poisonings, or governmental white papers against it.  The only thing we hear about is the whole foie gras flap.  Is it cruel, or is it not cruel?  If I were a duck I think I would say it is cruel to force me to eat when I do not want to eat, but if I were a duck I would also feel the evolutionary need to stuff myself silly for the long flight South and would feel it even more cruel if my keeper did not feed me all I crave to eat.  Other than that duck is free from controversy (to my limited culinary focused knowledge).

So why do we not eat more duck?  Expense?  Hell yeah, that’s one reason.  Duck is expensive here in the States.  You may give the old chicken purchase the once around the brain and compare it to the cost of hamburger, but duck…that’s a stop and ponder this for awhile purchase.

Availability?  Yeah, that is also a problem in most areas.  You can’t just pop down to the market and pick up a fresh duck or duck breast.  Well, I live in San Francisco, and I can go to Chinatown and have them slaughter the duck of my choice for me.  If I was inclined to do that, and if my Cantonese was up to snuff to get it done. I assure you, I have not and it is not… so relax.  But availability is a problem because the only duck you are going to find is more than likely whole and frozen, and then you have to plan, thaw and wait.  Ok, duck seems really impractical now.

Treatment?  This is the last obstacle I see with duck.  Not the ethical treatment of them; although, that crosses my mind too.  I mean how should you cook it?  Should you butcher it and pan roast or grill the breast, and make confit out of the legs and thighs?  Or, should you break out the bike pump and fan and Peking that sucker?  That’s the dilemma.  

If I was Chef Gary Danko I could turn it into duck breast prosciutto, but there is only one Danko and I am not he.  If I was uber Chef Thomas Keller, I could create some dish out of duck that could revive the dead, but I am not Thomas Keller either.  I am just an ordinary cook who loves duck and cannot get past the Expense, Availability, and Treatment of duck in order to EAT duck.

If I lived in France, I don’t think I would have this problem.  I could buy fresh duck breasts, pay a bit more for it than chicken, go home and pan roast them, and use the rendered duck fat to fry some potatoes.  I could eat duck at will, and then ponder why I don’t eat more pheasant.  I’m still going to try and eat more duck.  

How about you?

McDonald's Hot Picante Sauce

16 Ingredients: water, concentrated crushed tomatoes, onions, jalapeno peppers, distilled vinegar, green bell peppers, salt, high fructose corn syrup, xanthan gum, sodium benzoate and potassium sorbate as preservatives, citric acid, chili powder, natural flavor, garlic, spice.

I'll have to say, there ARE 5 vegetables in here; however, there are also 3 chemicals that are both mysterious and difficult to pronounce. Let's review some of these chemicals (content is from wikipedia):

Xanthan gum - is a polysaccharide used as a food additive and rheology modifier. It is produced by fermentationof glucose or sucrose by the Xanthomonas campestris bacterium.

Sodium benzoate - also called benzoate of soda, has thechemical formulaNaC₆H₅CO₂.  It is the sodium salt of benzoic acid and exists in this form when dissolved inwater. It can be produced by reacting sodium hydroxide with benzoic acid.

Potassium sorbate - the potassium salt of sorbic acid.  Its primary use is as a food preservative.  Potassium sorbate is effective in a variety of applications including food, wine, and personal care.

In case you were wondering, no, the stuff doesn't taste very good.

Tampopo Ruined Noodles

Several years ago, Papawow founder and foodtellectual extraordinaire Dave Koch loaned me a copy of Tampopo, the 1985 Japanese Western/comedy about, well, noodles.  I’m sure he meant well, but Tampopo ruined noodles.

I must admit that I haven’t seen Tampopo for many years now, so the details are a bit hazy.  The essence of the movie is the woman Tampopo’s search for the perfect bowl of noodles.  Various scenes describe the essence of a good bowl of noodles.  It all starts with the broth. Having made broths, stocks, and soups before, I am fully aware of the time consuming process required to make a deliciously savory, but not-too-salty broth.

The noodles themselves are another critical component – be they udon, ramen, soba (generally reserved for cold soups) or another lesser variety, the noodles cannot be overly mushy or hard.  They need to withstand the heat of the broth and the prodding of the eating implements (never a fork) without giving in, and at the same time cede to the tooth with a tiny bit of elastic resistance.

And then there’s the meat.  I have had too many udons containing an overly fatty, thick piece of ham. I’ve had tempura prawns with instantly-dissolving panko, revealing naked crustaceans in a slurry of fry.  Unacceptable.

The problem with Tampopo is that it leaves the viewer craving the perfect bowl of noodles.  I have not, in the years since my viewing of Tampopo, achieved satisfaction.  Unfortunately, my noodle experiences since that defining moment have left much to be desired.

Five minutes prior to writing these words, I consumed a bowl of noodles with dumplings – purveyor to remain anonymous – that left me craving something more substantial.  The dumplings tasted like poultry seasoning without the poultry.  The broth was empty, want of seasoning and excitement. And the noodles were flat, lacking personality.

One peculiarity of this vendor, which I have visited previously, is the over-abundance of vegetables in the soup. Rather than meat or fish broth, I end up tasting only carrots and sprouts.  Today’s noodle dish was merely a ghost of something that could have been.

Perhaps my disappointment in noodles is a regional problem.  I have not had a decent opportunity to sample noodles in Asia since my search began.  The exception was a disappointing ramen bowl in the Singapore Airlines lounge of the Hong Kong airport.

Incidentally, the best noodles I had since Tampopo were from a Japanese restaurant in the San Francisco International Airport.  I have spent many hung-over Sundays burning my tongue in a bowl of udon before departing to another place.  The broth there is particularly invigorating, and it magically warms my body and alleviates my ailments.

The tempura shrimp often end up naked, but with the appropriate level of care one can negotiate panko and crustacean in the same bite.  Despite the positive aspects of this airport miracle, it is still miles away from satiating my craving.

Tampopo initiated my search for the perfect bowl of noodles, and coupled with my search lays ceaseless disappointment.  One day, I optimistically muse, my search will prove fruitful.  Until then, noodles are ruined.

Tampopo in London

I stopped in my tracks one day when, walking down Fulham Road in London, I came upon a restaurant called Tampopo (www.tampopo.co.uk).  What a clever name for an Asian restaurant, I thought, but Tampopo herself would not have been pleased; this is not a noodle shack focused on the perfect bowl of noodles.

Instead it is a multi-location Asian restaurant, serving “steaming noodles to soothe, slow-cooked curries and sizzling stir-fries full of goodness and flavour.”  Sounds like goodness to me, but it does not sound like the end to Tampopo’s – or my – quest.

Halibut, how do I love thee?

photo by Antoinne von Rimes

Halibut, I love Halibut so much that I eat it three to four days a week when it’s in season, and thank God it is back in season now. Halibut season runs from March until the middle of November.  The span in-between I call hell because I am deprived of the luscious white, sweet, meaty treat called halibut.

I live in San Francisco and people here go on and on about salmon and Dungeness crab, ad infinitum…ho-freaking-hum.  There is no salmon dish baked, roasted, steamed or raw that can come close to a basket of properly beer battered, deep fried, halibut.

The crisp, crunchy, golden brown exterior and the steaming hot tender fish inside is food porn to me.  I want to close the blinds, conceal myself from prying eyes while I give myself over to this unmatched sin.

A drop of lemon or lime juice with the first bite, and then a dollop of my homemade tartar sauce with the second, and I’m half way to being spent.  My deep fried Halibut is crisp and golden brown on the outside with white, nearly, luminescent flesh, shrouded in a mist of escaping steam on the inside.

My mouth knows it will be tender and sweet. It seduces me to take a bite. I bite, munch, and gorge.  Before I know it, I end the evening sprawled on my couch, flakes of fried batter clinging to my face.  A sudden rush of guilt washes over me…shame not too far behind.  I pick myself up and tell myself I will have more self control next time…tomorrow

Classic French Doorstop

photo by Dave Koch

We had dinner over at a friends house the other day and I noticed they use an $80 magnum (1.5L) bottle of "J" Winery's Brut as their doorstop.  Granted, it was hot inside with all the cooking - but I thought this was so funny, I had to take a picture.

Bacon, Peanut Butter, and Basil Sandwich

The B-PB-B!.  Kind of a shoddy photo for such a delicious sandwich (it was taken with my phone) but the muses were with me when I came up with it.

I know it sounds crazy but don't laugh until you try it!

The saltiness of the bacon and the saltiness of the peanut butter play nice together on the swings while the basil is is busy getting dizzy on the carousel.

There is creamy, crunchy, salty, and herbal all going on.  White bread allows all the flavors to shine but whole wheat would be good too.

Ingredients:

3 strips of bacon - baked, nuked, or fried

2 pieces of white bread, toasted

1 small handful of basil, about 6 large leaves

1 smathering of peanut butter - chunky or smooth, your call

Instructions:

Put everything in between the slices of bread.  Eat.

Jelly Belly Buttered Popcorn Pudding Snacks

photo by Dave KochI found these in the refrigerator of a friend of mine and was so shocked, I had to tell the world.  First of all, the Buttered Popcorn Jelly Beans are the grossest, sickest excuse for a candy I know.  I would rather eat a handful of the Harry Potter Bertie Botts Earthworm flavored Jelly Beans than then a single Buttered Popcorn.

They are so horrible, they knock the wind out of me; I can't breathe.  My eyes roll into the back of my head when I eat them.  I begin to have visions of Hieronymus Bosch's Hell in The Garden of Earthly Delights.  Blood runs from my eyes, my head swivels on my neck, my world goes dark.  I may be exaggerating a little, but I really don't like them at all.  

Continuing on.  I didn't eat the pudding but I imagine it tastes like a pile of vomit at a movie theater.  I'm simply amazed that they would take something as disgusting as a buttered popcorn jelly bean and try and market it in different forms.  What's next?  Jelly Belly Buttered Popcorn Non-Dairy Creamer?

To exacerbate my shock of finding these in the home of someone I know, this culprit went to culinary school!  She shall remain nameless so as to protect her identity, possibly her job, and definitely her standing in the community (could you imagine the shame?).  

"So ______, I hear you eat Jelly Belly Buttered Popcorn Pudding Snacks..."

"Uh, yea."

"You're fired!"

Now I'm just teasing her - but nevertheless, here is a rundown of the ingredients in them (there are no less than 15 mind you!):

"Nonfat milk, water, sugar, modified food starch, vegetable oil (contains one or more of the following: soybean oil, canola oil, sunflower oil), contains 1% or less of the following: natural and artificial flavor, salt, xanthan gum, disodium phosphate, sodium stearoyl lactylate, yellow 5.

Contains: milk"

Did you notice it does not contain butter OR popcorn...?