Second try-
Monday, April 26, 2010
Fresh Peas
Fresh Peas from my new camera via flickr. It's taken my awhile to focus and figure this out now I'm on an official roll to add pictures to my site again.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Radical Housewives or Life from Hell?
Living on The Edge means that we either start trends or are the last to embrace them. You can still see Volkswagen Bugs and Wagons with original owners and there are many 60 yr. olds with long grey ponytails and Berkinstocks. So I guess it isn’t such a stretch for our Daily Edge Paper’s food section to run a front page article on-“Radical Homemaking”.
Before I even started to read the article, my eyes landed on the center picture of a young barefoot mother replete w/ apron, big mixing bowl, and her son trying to stuff a wooden spoon full of ? into his cute mouth. He was also barefoot. The “distressed” kitchen cabinets were without doors and the shelves were filled w/ mis-matched dishes and bags of bulk food.
A smaller picture above was of a hearty woman carrying just split wood to her stove and below was another apron garbed brick of a gal with chickens in her yard. All three were joyously happy shunning money. They were young, educated, and white…
In the old days (o.k. I’m showing my age), these gals would have been hippies and a newspaper written for the general public would never have spent the time of day describing their lifestyle. But this is The Edge and we are talking about “Radical Homemakers” of today.
Shannon Hayes, author of Radical Homemakers:Reclaiming domesticity from a Consumer Culture coined the term. These nuevo hippies are sprouting up all over the country (or so she says) and the book validates their exciting new lifestyle.“Most radical homemakers around the country live at about 200% of the federal poverty level. One or two people can do it on $20,000/year. For every additional person you need another $10,000."
Why would anyone want to dumb down to that level? Money means choices and quality of life. I don’t mean acquiring the latest and the greatest each year. I do mean having clean clothes, a healthy meal and regular doctor visits instead of the emergency ward. Maybe even braces or hip replacement. Gee, you could save for college!
“Before when I had only a couple of vegetable left in the bin and money in the pocket, I used to say, ‘I’ll go to the store.’ Now I say, “I’ll use the cabbage’.”
I’m not seeing poor ethnically challenged women in dirty apartments joyfully pedaling their 3 year old to school on the back of their bike. (Cars? Heck no! Let’s donate it to NPR!!) Or rolling up their sleeves to wrestle 50# of flour into wholesome loaves of bread or killing chickens on the ghetto street or soaking beans.
Taking knowledge to the extreme it is becoming popular w/ the Radical Homemakers to home school. Home schooling? I can’t imagine anything worse than having kidlits underfoot 24/7. I guess that’s why, “…homemaking isn’t about keeping a pretty house.” Yes I wanted my child to have the same view of the world as I did but my job was to filter the world she explored and help her understand what she was entering into, not protect her from the boogie man. The Princess has become a liberal after my own heart. She went to public school, University. Today she is earning a living and paying back her student loans. A fete that isn’t accomplished on a marginal income.
I am from the, “Turn On, Tune In, Drop Out”, Timothy Leary generation. We were the first to wear long hair, live in groups, become vegetarians and dream of trekking to Ithaca, NY to eat at Moosewood. Short of that we owned their book and dreamed.
In time we cleaned up, and assimilated ourselves into society. We discovered that once the parental dole was cut off, it was time to cut our hair and earn a living.Our experimentation and different lifestyles have changed society.Our music lives on and food has gone from haute to food carts. Creased blue jeans and shirts have replaced suits and ties in trendy restaurants. We grew hair, this generation sprouts tattoos.
We would not have Apple if Bill Gates stayed on the farm and throttled chickens. Alice Waters wouldn’t be able to fly all over the US expounding a healthy way to eat if she didn’t have a lucrative restaurant behind her.
Let’s face it money ain’t all that bad. In fact when there is healthy ebb and flow it makes the world go round. It’s what you do with it that counts and can make a positive impact.
Before I even started to read the article, my eyes landed on the center picture of a young barefoot mother replete w/ apron, big mixing bowl, and her son trying to stuff a wooden spoon full of ? into his cute mouth. He was also barefoot. The “distressed” kitchen cabinets were without doors and the shelves were filled w/ mis-matched dishes and bags of bulk food.
A smaller picture above was of a hearty woman carrying just split wood to her stove and below was another apron garbed brick of a gal with chickens in her yard. All three were joyously happy shunning money. They were young, educated, and white…
In the old days (o.k. I’m showing my age), these gals would have been hippies and a newspaper written for the general public would never have spent the time of day describing their lifestyle. But this is The Edge and we are talking about “Radical Homemakers” of today.
Shannon Hayes, author of Radical Homemakers:Reclaiming domesticity from a Consumer Culture coined the term. These nuevo hippies are sprouting up all over the country (or so she says) and the book validates their exciting new lifestyle.“Most radical homemakers around the country live at about 200% of the federal poverty level. One or two people can do it on $20,000/year. For every additional person you need another $10,000."
Why would anyone want to dumb down to that level? Money means choices and quality of life. I don’t mean acquiring the latest and the greatest each year. I do mean having clean clothes, a healthy meal and regular doctor visits instead of the emergency ward. Maybe even braces or hip replacement. Gee, you could save for college!
“Before when I had only a couple of vegetable left in the bin and money in the pocket, I used to say, ‘I’ll go to the store.’ Now I say, “I’ll use the cabbage’.”
I’m not seeing poor ethnically challenged women in dirty apartments joyfully pedaling their 3 year old to school on the back of their bike. (Cars? Heck no! Let’s donate it to NPR!!) Or rolling up their sleeves to wrestle 50# of flour into wholesome loaves of bread or killing chickens on the ghetto street or soaking beans.
Taking knowledge to the extreme it is becoming popular w/ the Radical Homemakers to home school. Home schooling? I can’t imagine anything worse than having kidlits underfoot 24/7. I guess that’s why, “…homemaking isn’t about keeping a pretty house.” Yes I wanted my child to have the same view of the world as I did but my job was to filter the world she explored and help her understand what she was entering into, not protect her from the boogie man. The Princess has become a liberal after my own heart. She went to public school, University. Today she is earning a living and paying back her student loans. A fete that isn’t accomplished on a marginal income.
I am from the, “Turn On, Tune In, Drop Out”, Timothy Leary generation. We were the first to wear long hair, live in groups, become vegetarians and dream of trekking to Ithaca, NY to eat at Moosewood. Short of that we owned their book and dreamed.
In time we cleaned up, and assimilated ourselves into society. We discovered that once the parental dole was cut off, it was time to cut our hair and earn a living.Our experimentation and different lifestyles have changed society.Our music lives on and food has gone from haute to food carts. Creased blue jeans and shirts have replaced suits and ties in trendy restaurants. We grew hair, this generation sprouts tattoos.
We would not have Apple if Bill Gates stayed on the farm and throttled chickens. Alice Waters wouldn’t be able to fly all over the US expounding a healthy way to eat if she didn’t have a lucrative restaurant behind her.
Let’s face it money ain’t all that bad. In fact when there is healthy ebb and flow it makes the world go round. It’s what you do with it that counts and can make a positive impact.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Thanks for the Memories
Michael Ruhlman had an interesting blog today admitting that although he is a heavy hitting foodie/gourmet/writer he had a humble culinary beginning. Recently, his wife reminded him that they indulged and enjoyed Knorr Fettuccine Alfredo, Ruhlman winced.
After justifying his packaged food past he noted that even if he had been given the right recipe, the right ingredients weren’t readily available. Gourmet times in the ‘60’s.
When you are young, hungry, and want to eat, you open the fridge and throw things together. It has nothing to do with a recipe or technique. You eat what you like in whatever fashion you desire. It's a big hit or miss.
I remember going to a friend’s house. No parent around and the older sister making lunch. What a revelation! Elbow macaroni, ground beef, and ketchup. I had died and gone to heaven! Why hadn’t my mother been feeding us this great meal?
Later in the cooking section of Home Economics class we were taught how to take tubes of Pillsbury dough, flatten the discs, and top them with butter (probably margarine) and cinnamon sugar. I can’t tell you how many of those ambrosia tasting discs I “made” for my family.
I was given a childrens Betty Crocker cookbook with a cake that amazed me! Using box cake mix, a square and round pan, you could make a heart shape cake to be decorated with icing. I loved the how it was done part.
I had a boyfriend who loved Rice A Roni and I did too. I read recipes on the backs of cans and gathered the processed ingredients to make sublime sodium laden creations. There was a wonderful stewed tomato recipe on the back of a can of diced tomatoes that taught me how to make sugar coated croutons and layer them with the tomatoes, sautéed onions and dried basil. It was delicious.
Would I make it again? Yes, to go down memory lane and either love it again or say goodbye. That is how our palates grow up.
The bottom line is that with all of the bumbling and experimenting I was gaining confidence in the kitchen and feeding myself and friends. Gourmet was another revelation. When I first saw the august magazine ingredients were embedded in the method. It read like food porn. Notebook at hand I would laboriously copy out the ingredients and transcribe the recipe to make some sense to me. More often than not I didn’t make the dish, but the process of understanding a recipe started to take hold.
Following in my mother’s footsteps, I became a recipe snipper from any newspaper or magazine around. Mounds of snippets were divided into food categories. I stroked them and fantasized about dishing them up. Notebooks,3X5 cards,files they have grown and grown.
I can’t tell you what was my first cookbook-I do know that one time I asked my mother to buy me a Joy of Cooking only to find a Betty Crocker under the Christmas tree. I soon bought my own JOC copy. My copy wasn’t as magical as my mothers. It wasn’t food stained and I didn’t know where the magical family recipes lurked.
When I first started to put regular meals on the table, I was anxious to please my first husband. We had many differences but there were times when he was spot on. At one particular meal that I wasn’t happy with, he told me that in the course of a year we eat a bit more than 1,000 meals. There is no way they can all be perfect. A few stumbles and stellar meals are to be expected.
With that thought resonating in my mind I rise each day to confront my ingredients and trick them into memorable meals. We’ll see where the pendulum swings- hit or miss-and don’t forget to open a can or box and go down memory lane. That's what eating and food is all about.
Michael Ruhlman’s article and recipe-
http://tinyurl.com/yyq5pvm
The real deal a la Ruhlman
Fettuccine Alfredo Recipe
After justifying his packaged food past he noted that even if he had been given the right recipe, the right ingredients weren’t readily available. Gourmet times in the ‘60’s.
When you are young, hungry, and want to eat, you open the fridge and throw things together. It has nothing to do with a recipe or technique. You eat what you like in whatever fashion you desire. It's a big hit or miss.
I remember going to a friend’s house. No parent around and the older sister making lunch. What a revelation! Elbow macaroni, ground beef, and ketchup. I had died and gone to heaven! Why hadn’t my mother been feeding us this great meal?
Later in the cooking section of Home Economics class we were taught how to take tubes of Pillsbury dough, flatten the discs, and top them with butter (probably margarine) and cinnamon sugar. I can’t tell you how many of those ambrosia tasting discs I “made” for my family.
I was given a childrens Betty Crocker cookbook with a cake that amazed me! Using box cake mix, a square and round pan, you could make a heart shape cake to be decorated with icing. I loved the how it was done part.
I had a boyfriend who loved Rice A Roni and I did too. I read recipes on the backs of cans and gathered the processed ingredients to make sublime sodium laden creations. There was a wonderful stewed tomato recipe on the back of a can of diced tomatoes that taught me how to make sugar coated croutons and layer them with the tomatoes, sautéed onions and dried basil. It was delicious.
Would I make it again? Yes, to go down memory lane and either love it again or say goodbye. That is how our palates grow up.
The bottom line is that with all of the bumbling and experimenting I was gaining confidence in the kitchen and feeding myself and friends. Gourmet was another revelation. When I first saw the august magazine ingredients were embedded in the method. It read like food porn. Notebook at hand I would laboriously copy out the ingredients and transcribe the recipe to make some sense to me. More often than not I didn’t make the dish, but the process of understanding a recipe started to take hold.
Following in my mother’s footsteps, I became a recipe snipper from any newspaper or magazine around. Mounds of snippets were divided into food categories. I stroked them and fantasized about dishing them up. Notebooks,3X5 cards,files they have grown and grown.
I can’t tell you what was my first cookbook-I do know that one time I asked my mother to buy me a Joy of Cooking only to find a Betty Crocker under the Christmas tree. I soon bought my own JOC copy. My copy wasn’t as magical as my mothers. It wasn’t food stained and I didn’t know where the magical family recipes lurked.
When I first started to put regular meals on the table, I was anxious to please my first husband. We had many differences but there were times when he was spot on. At one particular meal that I wasn’t happy with, he told me that in the course of a year we eat a bit more than 1,000 meals. There is no way they can all be perfect. A few stumbles and stellar meals are to be expected.
With that thought resonating in my mind I rise each day to confront my ingredients and trick them into memorable meals. We’ll see where the pendulum swings- hit or miss-and don’t forget to open a can or box and go down memory lane. That's what eating and food is all about.
Michael Ruhlman’s article and recipe-
http://tinyurl.com/yyq5pvm
The real deal a la Ruhlman
Fettuccine Alfredo Recipe
Monday, April 12, 2010
National Double Down Day!
I don't know about you but I have been following the launch of this "new" sandwich with fascination. We have Jamie Oliver jumping the pond to save America for obesity and we have our own restaurants undermining our health. The Colonel must be spinning in his grave.
Below is a "review".
April 12, 2010, 1:34 pm
On Ingesting KFC’s New Product, the “Double Down”
By SAM SIFTON
KFC
KFC, the fast-food company based in Louisville, Ky., introduced its newest product on Monday, a chicken, cheese, bacon, and mayonnaise sandwich called the “Double Down.”
Diner’s Journal went out to try it, sacrificing its Monday morning good mood in the service of the reader.
The sandwich contains no bread save the breading on the chicken, which is fried and comes in two bread-like slabs. Between these a KFC worker places a slice of white American-style cheese, a piece of crisp-fired bacon, and a splat of “Colonel’s sauce,” a kind of mayonnaise. The sandwich, KFC says in its advertising materials, “is so meaty, there’s no room for a bun.”
Stunt food has been a part of restaurant life probably since the first time a chef put a napkin over a customer’s head in order to serve him a whole, rare, roasted ortolan. There have been deep-fried candy bars, and General Tso’s chicken heroes. There have been steaks so large that they’re free if you can finish them. Some of these are redeemable in both their excess and flavor.
The “Double Down,” however, arrives at a new low: a greasy entree dish of chicken with bacon and cheese on it, slathered in sauce, that the company asks customers to eat with their hands. The chicken is watery within its soft casing of “crust,” the cheese familiar to anyone who has eaten food prepared by the United States government, the bacon chemical in its smokiness, the mayonnaise sauce tangy, salty, and sweet, all at once.
At the KFC on Broadway and 33rd Street on Monday morning, dour, slow-moving workers were selling the sandwich beneath fluorescent lights for $5.49. There was no sign for that option on the placard above the cash registers, however. The only “Double Down” on the menu was part of a combination deal selling for $7.99: the sandwich, a small order of fries, and a medium cup of iced Pepsi. At 11:45 a.m., there was a line of 7 people. All in it ordered the combination special.
The fries weren’t bad: steak-fry shaped numbers with a lot of salt on them. The Pepsi was, as Pepsi is, more sweet than Coke, more syrupy. And there was the chicken product, consumed on a seat on Broadway just north of Greeley Square, as geek paparazzi lurked anonymously in the bushes to watch and document the tasting: a slimy and unnaturally moist thing, with flavor ginned up in a lab.
It is, in all, a disgusting meal, a must-to-avoid.
Below is a "review".
April 12, 2010, 1:34 pm
On Ingesting KFC’s New Product, the “Double Down”
By SAM SIFTON
KFC
KFC, the fast-food company based in Louisville, Ky., introduced its newest product on Monday, a chicken, cheese, bacon, and mayonnaise sandwich called the “Double Down.”
Diner’s Journal went out to try it, sacrificing its Monday morning good mood in the service of the reader.
The sandwich contains no bread save the breading on the chicken, which is fried and comes in two bread-like slabs. Between these a KFC worker places a slice of white American-style cheese, a piece of crisp-fired bacon, and a splat of “Colonel’s sauce,” a kind of mayonnaise. The sandwich, KFC says in its advertising materials, “is so meaty, there’s no room for a bun.”
Stunt food has been a part of restaurant life probably since the first time a chef put a napkin over a customer’s head in order to serve him a whole, rare, roasted ortolan. There have been deep-fried candy bars, and General Tso’s chicken heroes. There have been steaks so large that they’re free if you can finish them. Some of these are redeemable in both their excess and flavor.
The “Double Down,” however, arrives at a new low: a greasy entree dish of chicken with bacon and cheese on it, slathered in sauce, that the company asks customers to eat with their hands. The chicken is watery within its soft casing of “crust,” the cheese familiar to anyone who has eaten food prepared by the United States government, the bacon chemical in its smokiness, the mayonnaise sauce tangy, salty, and sweet, all at once.
At the KFC on Broadway and 33rd Street on Monday morning, dour, slow-moving workers were selling the sandwich beneath fluorescent lights for $5.49. There was no sign for that option on the placard above the cash registers, however. The only “Double Down” on the menu was part of a combination deal selling for $7.99: the sandwich, a small order of fries, and a medium cup of iced Pepsi. At 11:45 a.m., there was a line of 7 people. All in it ordered the combination special.
The fries weren’t bad: steak-fry shaped numbers with a lot of salt on them. The Pepsi was, as Pepsi is, more sweet than Coke, more syrupy. And there was the chicken product, consumed on a seat on Broadway just north of Greeley Square, as geek paparazzi lurked anonymously in the bushes to watch and document the tasting: a slimy and unnaturally moist thing, with flavor ginned up in a lab.
It is, in all, a disgusting meal, a must-to-avoid.
Tuesday, April 06, 2010
You Say Burrata I say Food~ Gasm
A Twist on West Side Story
TONY
(spoken)
Burrata…
(sings)
The most beautiful cheese I ever ate:
Burrata,Burrata,Burrata,Burrata . . .
All the beautiful tastes of the world in a single bite. . .
Burrata,Burrata,Burrata,Burrata
Burrata!
I just ate a cheese named Burrata,
And suddenly fromage
Will never be the same
To me.
I've just gorged on a cheese named Burrata,
And suddenly I've found
How wonderful a cheese
Can be!
Burrata!
Gorge yourself and there's music playing,
Take a nibble and it's almost like praying.
Burrata
I'll never stop saying Burrata!
The most beautiful cheese I ever ate.
Burrata.
Maria wouldn’t have had a chance if Tony found Burrata first.
Let me start at the beginning. Just before Easter our favorite wine store sent an email blast enticing us to purchase Burrata cheese. This was an opportunity not to be missed.
NSSP picked up the 1# container and Easter morning we opened it. I stared at the white mass. It undulated in the container like a loose poached egg. My spoon hit a bit of resistance before it sank into the creamy center. I had read that Italians either eat it as the white in basil, tomato, and cheese plate or with marinated fruit.
We first tried it with a fresh baguette. Scooping a mounded tablespoon onto the bread then eating it. The Burrata had almost a pudding quality. As it slid down my throat I was left with the bread to chew. Next we paired it with sugared fresh strawberries and we were on a roll. Like any good junkie I couldn’t get enough and was very glad there were no caloric notes on the container to feel guilty about. Part mozzarella, part heavy cream this was as sexy as sevruga caviar or scrambled eggs with truffles.
Googling around I discovered that Burrata is a relatively new cheese invented in Southern Italy mostly in the Aupulia, Campania, and Basilicata regions. It was made with buffalo milk but now usually with cow’s milk. “Burro” is butter in Italian and refers to the buttery texture of the center.
A piece of mozzarella paste is stretched into a rectangle to form the outer shell. It is filled with fresh cream and soft shredded pieces of mozzarella and tied shut. The various subtle layers of texture tease your mouth into orgasmic submission.
Next time there is a Burrata offering I won’t forget the Prosecco. To hell with the fruit I think a good honey is in order and a romp in the hay!!
Seek and Enjoy!!
TONY
(spoken)
Burrata…
(sings)
The most beautiful cheese I ever ate:
Burrata,Burrata,Burrata,Burrata . . .
All the beautiful tastes of the world in a single bite. . .
Burrata,Burrata,Burrata,Burrata
Burrata!
I just ate a cheese named Burrata,
And suddenly fromage
Will never be the same
To me.
I've just gorged on a cheese named Burrata,
And suddenly I've found
How wonderful a cheese
Can be!
Burrata!
Gorge yourself and there's music playing,
Take a nibble and it's almost like praying.
Burrata
I'll never stop saying Burrata!
The most beautiful cheese I ever ate.
Burrata.
Maria wouldn’t have had a chance if Tony found Burrata first.
Let me start at the beginning. Just before Easter our favorite wine store sent an email blast enticing us to purchase Burrata cheese. This was an opportunity not to be missed.
NSSP picked up the 1# container and Easter morning we opened it. I stared at the white mass. It undulated in the container like a loose poached egg. My spoon hit a bit of resistance before it sank into the creamy center. I had read that Italians either eat it as the white in basil, tomato, and cheese plate or with marinated fruit.
We first tried it with a fresh baguette. Scooping a mounded tablespoon onto the bread then eating it. The Burrata had almost a pudding quality. As it slid down my throat I was left with the bread to chew. Next we paired it with sugared fresh strawberries and we were on a roll. Like any good junkie I couldn’t get enough and was very glad there were no caloric notes on the container to feel guilty about. Part mozzarella, part heavy cream this was as sexy as sevruga caviar or scrambled eggs with truffles.
Googling around I discovered that Burrata is a relatively new cheese invented in Southern Italy mostly in the Aupulia, Campania, and Basilicata regions. It was made with buffalo milk but now usually with cow’s milk. “Burro” is butter in Italian and refers to the buttery texture of the center.
A piece of mozzarella paste is stretched into a rectangle to form the outer shell. It is filled with fresh cream and soft shredded pieces of mozzarella and tied shut. The various subtle layers of texture tease your mouth into orgasmic submission.
Next time there is a Burrata offering I won’t forget the Prosecco. To hell with the fruit I think a good honey is in order and a romp in the hay!!
Seek and Enjoy!!
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
You can't make a Chef out of a Dumb Cook
“I read the news today oh, boy…” showing my age with a Beatles quote but it hits the culinary spot. I read an article about the deluge of chef’s memoir. More to the point they are more like exposes about bad boys in hot kitchens a lá Bourdain.
Yes, I have read Bourdain and watched him single handedly elevate the cooking drones to worshipful status. I have watched him develop his “humble” stature with the likes of Eric and Thomas. He has done a lot to expose the underbelly of the cooking industry. Now he eats and barfs on T.V. Great shtick.
I was one of those aspiring female cooks who came in contact with the likes of Bourdain. In fact we danced in and out of one of the same restaurants never to meet. It was a flipping tough gig. Male or female if you didn’t have the cohones you were dead meat on the line, produce or die. As a woman, there was extra scrutiny of your tits, your wiggle, and whose bones you jumped, rumors ran rampant.
Anyone who has ventured into a “professional” kitchen and has survived has scars and stories they could tell. I have always felt these shouldn’t be shared with the white cloth public. A 9-5 business man or tennis wife can’t understand why dueling soft shell crabs and crayfish can turn into a betting super bowl or the need to make a stock of work boots for the morning shift to find is crucial to leaving.
They don’t understand the vice grip a cook is put in when management wants you to wash the fish and sell it as a special when you wouldn’t eat it yourself. For many of us it is the twisted creativity and pressure that rocks us. It’s a hard nut profession.
These stories are only for the workers down below. They are for late night rants over beer, wine, and whatever numbs you. Not even to be shared with lovers or mates. They are the stories that bind restaurant workers together in a scarred and bloody brotherhood.
I never shared my stories w/ NSSP and when Bourdain wrote his book I felt violated. He wrote with bravado about my darkest culinary secrets. He crossed the line to make a buck. Sure drones kiss his feet and thank him for legitimizing their “profession”. I feel upstairs should never be told the truth.
This tell all kitchen memoir has become quite popular and now the ultimate irony~ a “chef” in England decided to write his tell all while still working at said restaurant exposing his exploits (the usual suspects-sex, drugs, and rip offs) only to be fired when the boss read the book!
Cooks beware! Owners can read!!
Original Article Below- Enjoy!
http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/wordofmouth/2010/mar/31/chefs-macho-memoirs
Yes, I have read Bourdain and watched him single handedly elevate the cooking drones to worshipful status. I have watched him develop his “humble” stature with the likes of Eric and Thomas. He has done a lot to expose the underbelly of the cooking industry. Now he eats and barfs on T.V. Great shtick.
I was one of those aspiring female cooks who came in contact with the likes of Bourdain. In fact we danced in and out of one of the same restaurants never to meet. It was a flipping tough gig. Male or female if you didn’t have the cohones you were dead meat on the line, produce or die. As a woman, there was extra scrutiny of your tits, your wiggle, and whose bones you jumped, rumors ran rampant.
Anyone who has ventured into a “professional” kitchen and has survived has scars and stories they could tell. I have always felt these shouldn’t be shared with the white cloth public. A 9-5 business man or tennis wife can’t understand why dueling soft shell crabs and crayfish can turn into a betting super bowl or the need to make a stock of work boots for the morning shift to find is crucial to leaving.
They don’t understand the vice grip a cook is put in when management wants you to wash the fish and sell it as a special when you wouldn’t eat it yourself. For many of us it is the twisted creativity and pressure that rocks us. It’s a hard nut profession.
These stories are only for the workers down below. They are for late night rants over beer, wine, and whatever numbs you. Not even to be shared with lovers or mates. They are the stories that bind restaurant workers together in a scarred and bloody brotherhood.
I never shared my stories w/ NSSP and when Bourdain wrote his book I felt violated. He wrote with bravado about my darkest culinary secrets. He crossed the line to make a buck. Sure drones kiss his feet and thank him for legitimizing their “profession”. I feel upstairs should never be told the truth.
This tell all kitchen memoir has become quite popular and now the ultimate irony~ a “chef” in England decided to write his tell all while still working at said restaurant exposing his exploits (the usual suspects-sex, drugs, and rip offs) only to be fired when the boss read the book!
Cooks beware! Owners can read!!
Original Article Below- Enjoy!
http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/wordofmouth/2010/mar/31/chefs-macho-memoirs
Saturday, March 27, 2010
What are you eating for Passover or Easter?
This week I spent my creative juices on nailing the menus for the next 2 holidays. After playing with Mediterranean recipes for an article, I couldn’t wrap my head around a brisket event. Joyce Goldstein said come hither and I went.
There will only be 3 of us for Passover so it will be a simple affair. We’ll start with an appetizer of Latkes topped with sour cream, smoked salmon, and dill. After the service there will be golden matzo ball soup, a salad of watercress and butter lettuce with a dill vinaigrette.
Keeping with the golden color, our chicken will be roasted with lemon, orange, and ginger. Sides? Rice with pine nuts and saffron and spinach gratin.
Dessert will be a lime scented angel food cake garnished with pistachios and raspberries.
Mark Bittman suggested I make my own variation of matzos. The jury is still out on that one.
Easter is going to be a grander affair starting with devilled eggs a whole lamb gam perhaps roasted outside with either rosemary & garlic or a mild fresh mint shallot sauce (I do have a week to figure this out). Sides? Scalloped potatoes swimming in heavy cream, rimmed with sautéed mushrooms and local asparagus with lemon zest.
There might be another appetizer or salad depending on the final guest count.
Dessert? I gearing up to make a 9 layer cake I saw in the NYT awhile ago.
The real challenge is what are we eating before and around the holidays?
Suggestions dear readers?
There will only be 3 of us for Passover so it will be a simple affair. We’ll start with an appetizer of Latkes topped with sour cream, smoked salmon, and dill. After the service there will be golden matzo ball soup, a salad of watercress and butter lettuce with a dill vinaigrette.
Keeping with the golden color, our chicken will be roasted with lemon, orange, and ginger. Sides? Rice with pine nuts and saffron and spinach gratin.
Dessert will be a lime scented angel food cake garnished with pistachios and raspberries.
Mark Bittman suggested I make my own variation of matzos. The jury is still out on that one.
Easter is going to be a grander affair starting with devilled eggs a whole lamb gam perhaps roasted outside with either rosemary & garlic or a mild fresh mint shallot sauce (I do have a week to figure this out). Sides? Scalloped potatoes swimming in heavy cream, rimmed with sautéed mushrooms and local asparagus with lemon zest.
There might be another appetizer or salad depending on the final guest count.
Dessert? I gearing up to make a 9 layer cake I saw in the NYT awhile ago.
The real challenge is what are we eating before and around the holidays?
Suggestions dear readers?
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
The Tupperware Chippendale's
There was an article in the Sunday NYT called, “Using the Kitchen as a Happy Place Where Couples Bond”. I have no trouble with that. There are many pictures of happy couples/families in gorgeous kitchens having a blast chopping, dicing, and swilling wine.
The picture going with the article has a happy family replete with smiling blond boy putting green beans in a plastic container and smiling dad watching. Blond mom is patting the family’s golden retriever (is there anything more American?). The whole picture centers around the back of a produce laden farm truck.
Centered at the top of the picture is the word TUPPERWARE. This catches my attention. The article says that Tupperware is staging a media event with a male jock and movie star where they are taught how to cook a meal with “only food, Tupperware products, and a microwave oven”. Now that’s gourmet!!
What’s the deal? The answer is; “…to catch a moose, you have to first catch moose bait. And if you want to target women, the best way is to also go after men.” I don’t think any woman would like to be mentioned in the same paragraph as with moose, other than perhaps the previous governor of Alaska.
So now we know what the advertising gurus are up to! By adding sex to Tupperware, and teaching men to cook, other than slabs of meat on the grill, sales will go through the roof. Not so fast Sherlock. It’s not about teaching the hubby to cook it’s about tempting the little woman to buy products with sexy men.
It also seems that the new Tupperware catalog features Stuart O’Keefe (another Food Network find “starring” in Private Chefs of Beverly Hills-yikes!) to add the testosterone touch to their product. He’s the eye candy for the little woman. “Women want to see sexy guys”. Could this be he become the Chippendale of plastic?
Where do you stuff the money?
Now all they need are hunks manning the mall kiosks and leading the Tupperware parties in the home. Maybe they could pair up with the lingerie home parties for a swinging event!
The picture going with the article has a happy family replete with smiling blond boy putting green beans in a plastic container and smiling dad watching. Blond mom is patting the family’s golden retriever (is there anything more American?). The whole picture centers around the back of a produce laden farm truck.
Centered at the top of the picture is the word TUPPERWARE. This catches my attention. The article says that Tupperware is staging a media event with a male jock and movie star where they are taught how to cook a meal with “only food, Tupperware products, and a microwave oven”. Now that’s gourmet!!
What’s the deal? The answer is; “…to catch a moose, you have to first catch moose bait. And if you want to target women, the best way is to also go after men.” I don’t think any woman would like to be mentioned in the same paragraph as with moose, other than perhaps the previous governor of Alaska.
So now we know what the advertising gurus are up to! By adding sex to Tupperware, and teaching men to cook, other than slabs of meat on the grill, sales will go through the roof. Not so fast Sherlock. It’s not about teaching the hubby to cook it’s about tempting the little woman to buy products with sexy men.
It also seems that the new Tupperware catalog features Stuart O’Keefe (another Food Network find “starring” in Private Chefs of Beverly Hills-yikes!) to add the testosterone touch to their product. He’s the eye candy for the little woman. “Women want to see sexy guys”. Could this be he become the Chippendale of plastic?
Where do you stuff the money?
Now all they need are hunks manning the mall kiosks and leading the Tupperware parties in the home. Maybe they could pair up with the lingerie home parties for a swinging event!
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Junk food the Pied Piper of the Poor
Last Sunday, the NYT ran the story: “The south Bronx, Plagued by Obesity, tops a Hunger Survey”. The nut graph was that “the hungriest people in America today, statistically speaking, may well be not sickly skinny, but excessively fat”. The article calls hunger and obesity the “flip sides of the same malnutrition coin”.
Dutifully the article plodded on with statistics, examples, surveys, and the usual reality that fresh produce and ingredients are hard to come by in a ghetto. “When you’re just trying to get your calorie intake, you’re going to get what fills your belly,” said Mr. Berg & NYT.
He’s getting closer. The one ingredient that wasn’t mentioned in the article was what impact does living below the poverty line have on daily personal satisfaction? We all want to be happy, fulfilled, and satisfied with our lives. What happens to a person who at every turn comes up against a wall that mentally shoots them down?
The do-gooders point their fingers at drugs and alcohol as evil. As the little note from our Surgeon General whispers on the back of a wine bottle, “Alcoholic beverages impairs your ability to drive a car or operate machinery and may cause health problems”. Isn’t that the purpose? For a few hours of a day to be numb to the grinding fear in the pit of your stomach and mind? It is not right to abandon your responsibilities but when life year after year stays in the abyss who can tell what is right or wrong.
With no happiness around or even the will to laugh, junk food kills the hunger and provides a food high. It is the only thing that a poor person can justify spending dwindling resources on. For a brief moment a person can go into a clean place with happy colors, music, and hide from a rat infested apartment, or worse.
“Bloomberg administration officials see hunger and obesity as linked problems that can be addressed in part by making healthful food more affordable.” That’s part of it as well as, “income supports, increasing healthy options and encouraging nutritious behavior”. All well and good but you need show people that they can feel mentally satisfied with a nutritious meal and not look at it as second fiddle to Micky D’s $1 special.
Time cooking is constantly discussed with the violins playing the 2 jobs, 4 children, no time song. I don’t disagree but before junk food there were tenements and overworked sweat shop families who must have survived. Some of us are from their stock. I don’t romance poverty in any generation but ours is a generation with an insidious food pied piper.
As a society we need to address how we nourish our bodies. Teach by example and lead nation on a healthy path. Unhealthy food will become an indulgence not a temporary happy fix.
The original article-
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/14/nyregion/14hunger.html?emc=eta1
Dutifully the article plodded on with statistics, examples, surveys, and the usual reality that fresh produce and ingredients are hard to come by in a ghetto. “When you’re just trying to get your calorie intake, you’re going to get what fills your belly,” said Mr. Berg & NYT.
He’s getting closer. The one ingredient that wasn’t mentioned in the article was what impact does living below the poverty line have on daily personal satisfaction? We all want to be happy, fulfilled, and satisfied with our lives. What happens to a person who at every turn comes up against a wall that mentally shoots them down?
The do-gooders point their fingers at drugs and alcohol as evil. As the little note from our Surgeon General whispers on the back of a wine bottle, “Alcoholic beverages impairs your ability to drive a car or operate machinery and may cause health problems”. Isn’t that the purpose? For a few hours of a day to be numb to the grinding fear in the pit of your stomach and mind? It is not right to abandon your responsibilities but when life year after year stays in the abyss who can tell what is right or wrong.
With no happiness around or even the will to laugh, junk food kills the hunger and provides a food high. It is the only thing that a poor person can justify spending dwindling resources on. For a brief moment a person can go into a clean place with happy colors, music, and hide from a rat infested apartment, or worse.
“Bloomberg administration officials see hunger and obesity as linked problems that can be addressed in part by making healthful food more affordable.” That’s part of it as well as, “income supports, increasing healthy options and encouraging nutritious behavior”. All well and good but you need show people that they can feel mentally satisfied with a nutritious meal and not look at it as second fiddle to Micky D’s $1 special.
Time cooking is constantly discussed with the violins playing the 2 jobs, 4 children, no time song. I don’t disagree but before junk food there were tenements and overworked sweat shop families who must have survived. Some of us are from their stock. I don’t romance poverty in any generation but ours is a generation with an insidious food pied piper.
As a society we need to address how we nourish our bodies. Teach by example and lead nation on a healthy path. Unhealthy food will become an indulgence not a temporary happy fix.
The original article-
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/14/nyregion/14hunger.html?emc=eta1
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Tacky is Only in the Eyes of the Beholder!!
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I discovered this site back in December (ancient history!) and thought of it today. This guy Charles Phoenix is the king of kitsch. Maybe it was because I grew up in the '50's and I was hard wired for tacky I don't know but I just love faux taste and sometimes I have to share.
So this is where the "work" comes in. Thanks to my stupidity I can't figure out how to imbed the links to the Turducken of pies. You have to go to his site www.charlesphoenix.com then click on test kitchen and away you go to a mind numbing creation. If you have time check out the next entry on the Astro Weenie Christmas Tree.They make me want to put on a poodle skirt and tease my hair!
If you are also a king or queen of kitsch sign up for his weekly snapshot into the past.
While your at it drop me a line on your own kitsch items!
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Ideas In Food
I'm fired up! Not too long ago I stumbled on www.ideasinfood.com. Big surprise yet another food centric website. What nudged this horse out of the pack was it's simple daily prose and gorgeous photographs!
I opened my blog and cruised the pics. Absolutely nothing memorable. Then poof! a BOB(burst of brilliance) can I? could I? do I want to try? The answer dear readers is affirmative.
I am as excited as I was when I cracked open La Technique and La Methode by Jacques Pepin. I'm researching cameras, stepped into the Adobe fold, looking at light sources and trying out the lingo.
I will soon be posting more pictures to entice and lure you into your kitchen!
I opened my blog and cruised the pics. Absolutely nothing memorable. Then poof! a BOB(burst of brilliance) can I? could I? do I want to try? The answer dear readers is affirmative.
I am as excited as I was when I cracked open La Technique and La Methode by Jacques Pepin. I'm researching cameras, stepped into the Adobe fold, looking at light sources and trying out the lingo.
I will soon be posting more pictures to entice and lure you into your kitchen!
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Why do YOU cook?
I recently read an article by Michael Ruhlman and then followed it up with a talk he gave on why we cook or should cook. His first reasons were of the passionate nature.
“—I want my family to have great food all the time that’s tasty and good for their body and brains.
—I cook because it relaxes me after long motionless hours at the computer.
—I cook because I love to eat.
—I cook to make my family and friends happy.
—I cook so Donna doesn’t have to.
—I cook because life better is when I do.”
It got me thinking about my relationship with food. NSSP and I are climbing out of a bad twist of fate that has been gripping many Americans these days. Unemployment is a mind numbing desert to travail. You hope there is an end before the water runs out. Each day is the same beginning with a niggling nausea that either stays in check, or becomes a mind spinning sickness that only sleep calms.
Through this, life goes on. I kept my sanity by planning, shopping, and cooking dinner. At 5pm the boys were fed snackies, I poured myself a glass of wine, turned on the classical station and started my dinner dance.
I could feel the anxiety tension recede as I stared into the fridge and gathered ingredients. Laying down my chopping board and sharpening the knife du jour sent me into cooking mode. My ears picked up gentle strains of tafelmusik and my mind was set free to create.
Until~NSSP would come into the kitchen, shattering my fragile wall against reality. Trudging up from his self imposed cell downstairs, he would chat, rattle the newspaper, or turn on Toshi(ba). I couldn’t concentrate; my sanity was violated until I insisted he go into the living room because “it was more comfortable”.
Regaining my composure I would start my dance again. As I chopped and diced thoughts of flavors stretched in front of my palate. By the time I was plating our meal I became a dancing dervish spinning and mumbling in the kitchen chaos.
Turning off the classical and moving on to jazz, lighting the dinner candles and placing our meal on the table; I was able to give NSSP a part of myself. It was my small offering of support and a reward for yet another dismal day.
Life has moved on, we are off the dole and I am still making dinner. Our meals together are nightly celebrations of reaching the oasis and seeing a rosy glow on the horizon. On occasion I don’t mind NSSP in the kitchen I have loosened my territorial hold and enjoy the interaction. I can cook, think, and talk at the same time.
I would like to add “I cook to create and for grounding” to Michael’s list.
Please go to the attachments to read and listen to his thoughts.
Why I Cook
Why I Cook, Part II<br/>The Cooking Imperative
“—I want my family to have great food all the time that’s tasty and good for their body and brains.
—I cook because it relaxes me after long motionless hours at the computer.
—I cook because I love to eat.
—I cook to make my family and friends happy.
—I cook so Donna doesn’t have to.
—I cook because life better is when I do.”
It got me thinking about my relationship with food. NSSP and I are climbing out of a bad twist of fate that has been gripping many Americans these days. Unemployment is a mind numbing desert to travail. You hope there is an end before the water runs out. Each day is the same beginning with a niggling nausea that either stays in check, or becomes a mind spinning sickness that only sleep calms.
Through this, life goes on. I kept my sanity by planning, shopping, and cooking dinner. At 5pm the boys were fed snackies, I poured myself a glass of wine, turned on the classical station and started my dinner dance.
I could feel the anxiety tension recede as I stared into the fridge and gathered ingredients. Laying down my chopping board and sharpening the knife du jour sent me into cooking mode. My ears picked up gentle strains of tafelmusik and my mind was set free to create.
Until~NSSP would come into the kitchen, shattering my fragile wall against reality. Trudging up from his self imposed cell downstairs, he would chat, rattle the newspaper, or turn on Toshi(ba). I couldn’t concentrate; my sanity was violated until I insisted he go into the living room because “it was more comfortable”.
Regaining my composure I would start my dance again. As I chopped and diced thoughts of flavors stretched in front of my palate. By the time I was plating our meal I became a dancing dervish spinning and mumbling in the kitchen chaos.
Turning off the classical and moving on to jazz, lighting the dinner candles and placing our meal on the table; I was able to give NSSP a part of myself. It was my small offering of support and a reward for yet another dismal day.
Life has moved on, we are off the dole and I am still making dinner. Our meals together are nightly celebrations of reaching the oasis and seeing a rosy glow on the horizon. On occasion I don’t mind NSSP in the kitchen I have loosened my territorial hold and enjoy the interaction. I can cook, think, and talk at the same time.
I would like to add “I cook to create and for grounding” to Michael’s list.
Please go to the attachments to read and listen to his thoughts.
Why I Cook
Why I Cook, Part II<br/>The Cooking Imperative
Monday, March 08, 2010
Mini Cheese Burgers with Waffle Bread
Mini-Cheeseburgers With Waffled White Bread (click to view)
I hate cute. Animals, food, slippers, and the cooing sound that goes along with the cute acknowledgment. But~sometimes it is the perfect word to describe what your seeing and in this case it was "Mini Cheeseburgers with Waffled White Bread". I saw, I cooed and wished I was catering again so I could sell the heck out of these little morsels.
My mind spun with twists. Maybe just one big sliced mushroom. A crumble of bleu and finely chopped toasty walnuts. Or perhaps a perfect pringle with a nod to Flaygo's Burger Palace.
I guess the only way I can satisfy my mini mojo is to have a party and serve them. Wait that means picking the day, inviting guests, shopping cooking and then the odious job of cleaning the house. On second thought a slider plate might be perfect for Friday night in the Man Cave...
I hate cute. Animals, food, slippers, and the cooing sound that goes along with the cute acknowledgment. But~sometimes it is the perfect word to describe what your seeing and in this case it was "Mini Cheeseburgers with Waffled White Bread". I saw, I cooed and wished I was catering again so I could sell the heck out of these little morsels.
My mind spun with twists. Maybe just one big sliced mushroom. A crumble of bleu and finely chopped toasty walnuts. Or perhaps a perfect pringle with a nod to Flaygo's Burger Palace.
I guess the only way I can satisfy my mini mojo is to have a party and serve them. Wait that means picking the day, inviting guests, shopping cooking and then the odious job of cleaning the house. On second thought a slider plate might be perfect for Friday night in the Man Cave...
Tuesday, March 02, 2010
What would you do?
Attention Readers!
I have one shot at enticing a young lady into the addictive world of cooking. She is very well traveled, sophisticated and knows her way around restaurant ordering. No, unfortunately it isn't The Princess but a sorority sister of hers. I'm wracking my brain to come up with the perfect meal.
Tasty, pretty, easy, with some technique but something she would make on her own.
Ideas? Get back to me soon!!
I have one shot at enticing a young lady into the addictive world of cooking. She is very well traveled, sophisticated and knows her way around restaurant ordering. No, unfortunately it isn't The Princess but a sorority sister of hers. I'm wracking my brain to come up with the perfect meal.
Tasty, pretty, easy, with some technique but something she would make on her own.
Ideas? Get back to me soon!!
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Salade Nicoise Anyone?
I don't know about you but I'm more than ready for some alfresco dining! I was going through my pictures and found these shots of salade nicoise. What is your favorite alfresco meal?
Before~
After~
Before~
After~
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Ruth Reichl Rules!
I have always loved Ruth Reichl’s writing. Her NYT restaurant reviews always made me feel as if we were dining together and she was leaning over the table to whisper her observations. Now I follow Ruth Reichl on twitter. Her 140 symbol haiku's are sensual food images that put me in a food fairy land. I feel as if she has opened the door and whisked me into her culinary realm.
A few tweets from the master food tweeter~
Avocados - soft, gentle, butter-rich. Scatter of onion, tiny dice of jalapeno, lashings of lime and shower of salt. Seductive little lunch.
Winter night. Fire roaring. Snow plow on the way. C-food dinner: Chipotle chili , cornbread and cranberry upside down cake.
Made the spongecake. Ancient flavor.No fat. Great texture. Subtle. Barely sweet. Must have been SO difficult without electricy. Easy now.
Snow falling; fat flakes. Think I'm stuck here on the mountain for a while. I'll survive on banana bread (filled with rum-soaked apricots).
Poached araucana eggs. Bright blue shells, whites swirl around marigold yolks. Toasted bread, sweet butter. Apricot jam. Fresh orange juice.
Peeling oranges on this post-storm morning. Snow sparkling off the mountains, sun pouring through the windows, fingers scented with citrus.
Cold sake-steamed chicken, straight from the refrigerator. Pearly flesh smooth as satin. Cats twine hopefully around my ankles. Think not.
Wow! she is some writing dame to aspire to. She makes my tweet day!
Dear Readers-I thought I would leave my editorial comments about the haiku's off to highlight Ruth's prose. Would you have enjoyed my comments? or enough said?
A few tweets from the master food tweeter~
Avocados - soft, gentle, butter-rich. Scatter of onion, tiny dice of jalapeno, lashings of lime and shower of salt. Seductive little lunch.
Winter night. Fire roaring. Snow plow on the way. C-food dinner: Chipotle chili , cornbread and cranberry upside down cake.
Made the spongecake. Ancient flavor.No fat. Great texture. Subtle. Barely sweet. Must have been SO difficult without electricy. Easy now.
Snow falling; fat flakes. Think I'm stuck here on the mountain for a while. I'll survive on banana bread (filled with rum-soaked apricots).
Poached araucana eggs. Bright blue shells, whites swirl around marigold yolks. Toasted bread, sweet butter. Apricot jam. Fresh orange juice.
Peeling oranges on this post-storm morning. Snow sparkling off the mountains, sun pouring through the windows, fingers scented with citrus.
Cold sake-steamed chicken, straight from the refrigerator. Pearly flesh smooth as satin. Cats twine hopefully around my ankles. Think not.
Wow! she is some writing dame to aspire to. She makes my tweet day!
Dear Readers-I thought I would leave my editorial comments about the haiku's off to highlight Ruth's prose. Would you have enjoyed my comments? or enough said?
What's all this about nutrition and food labels?
I’ve been pondering the food labeling conundrum recently and the proposed band aids suggested to right the wrong. I agree the food labels are a whisper of information printed a bit too small with portions contrived to make the food fall within the healthy realm.
You can’t base all of your food choices on those descriptions but when a pouch of Lloyd’s Pork BBQ in an 18oz. (510 g) tub tells you a serving size is 1/4C (56g) @ 80 calories there should be a tingle-ling in your little grey cells. Who is only going to eat 1/4 C of Q? You’re telling me there are 4 ½ servings including sauce in that tub?
Once you start double dipping the nutritional facts get skewed as well, 360mg of sodium (our new culinary hate word) bumps up to 720mg a sizable chunk of the old daily intake (1500mg or less for women, 2300mg or less for men).
To eat this glop responsibly is to measure out your portion and walk away. It’s tough and not satisfying. The easy thing to do (and that’s what these glop tubs are all about in the meat department) is to eat the whole damn thing, forget the salad (too messy) and pay the piper. Oops! High blood pressure? A niggle of diabetes? How did that happen? Not even good genes can fight this easy food onslaught.
Back to labeling- I do think it’s cheeky to sell a bag of chips near the premade sandwiches and state it serves 1 ½ people. Where are the nutritionists who are trained in the knowledge of what our body needs on a daily basis? They are the ones who should be setting the portion sizes not the various powers that be.
Quite honestly I’m a bit concerned that the food industry is going to make the portion sizes more in line with how we really eat the stuff. I don’t think we need to be told that a portion size Pork Q is now 3/4C or the same size has turned into a single serving. Eek!
Eating processed food is not a good gig for the Bod. With that said we know we will continue to do it. Think first, put it at the top of the pyramid with fats, sweets, and splurges not at the bottom with the grains, veggies, and fruit.
Oh, and watch those labels!
You can’t base all of your food choices on those descriptions but when a pouch of Lloyd’s Pork BBQ in an 18oz. (510 g) tub tells you a serving size is 1/4C (56g) @ 80 calories there should be a tingle-ling in your little grey cells. Who is only going to eat 1/4 C of Q? You’re telling me there are 4 ½ servings including sauce in that tub?
Once you start double dipping the nutritional facts get skewed as well, 360mg of sodium (our new culinary hate word) bumps up to 720mg a sizable chunk of the old daily intake (1500mg or less for women, 2300mg or less for men).
To eat this glop responsibly is to measure out your portion and walk away. It’s tough and not satisfying. The easy thing to do (and that’s what these glop tubs are all about in the meat department) is to eat the whole damn thing, forget the salad (too messy) and pay the piper. Oops! High blood pressure? A niggle of diabetes? How did that happen? Not even good genes can fight this easy food onslaught.
Back to labeling- I do think it’s cheeky to sell a bag of chips near the premade sandwiches and state it serves 1 ½ people. Where are the nutritionists who are trained in the knowledge of what our body needs on a daily basis? They are the ones who should be setting the portion sizes not the various powers that be.
Quite honestly I’m a bit concerned that the food industry is going to make the portion sizes more in line with how we really eat the stuff. I don’t think we need to be told that a portion size Pork Q is now 3/4C or the same size has turned into a single serving. Eek!
Eating processed food is not a good gig for the Bod. With that said we know we will continue to do it. Think first, put it at the top of the pyramid with fats, sweets, and splurges not at the bottom with the grains, veggies, and fruit.
Oh, and watch those labels!
Thursday, February 18, 2010
2010 James Beard Semifinalists!
This is a link to a Washington Post article with the list of James Beard nominees- FYI http://bit.ly/cSo37Q
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