Loxosceles

Putting dinner in oddly-shaped containers is fun!

Left: pan-seared brussels sprouts and potatoes in olive oil, butter, and salt.

Center: salad with spinach, mozzarella, and roasted tomatoes

Right: whole-wheat pasta with roasted tomato sauce (from a jar) and grated cheddar.

Last night I sent Marty a recipe for peanut lime noodles, and he responded with this one for Mayan hot chocolate. Amazingly, I had all the ingredients on hand (except the whipped cream). I did run out of milk and have to substitute a little goat's milk.


2 cups boiling water
1 chile pepper, cut in half, seeds removed (with gloves)
5 cups light cream or whole or nonfat milk
1 vanilla bean, split lengthwise
1 to 2 cinnamon sticks
8 ounces bittersweet chocolate or
3 tablets Mexican chocolate, cut into 1/4-inch pieces
2 tablespoons sugar or honey, or to taste
l tablespoon almonds or hazelnuts, ground extra fine
Whipped cream

In a large saucepan over medium-high heat, add chile pepper to boiling water. Cook until liquid is reduced to 1 cup. Remove chile pepper; strain water and set aside.

In a medium saucepan over medium heat, combine cream or milk, vanilla bean and cinnamon stick until bubbles appear around the edge. Reduce heat to low; add chocolate and sugar or honey; whisk occasionally until chocolate is melted and sugar dissolves. Turn off heat; remove vanilla bean and cinnamon stick. Add chile-infused water, a little at a time, tasting to make sure the flavor isn't too strong. If chocolate is too thick, thin with a little more milk.

Serve in small cups and offer ground almonds or hazelnuts and whipped cream.

Irrelevant photo: "Tomato Justice" at the faire

Remember when I mentioned a new project I'm working on? The time has come to unveil it.

I'm now writing a blog about an actual topic (other than me) for an actual audience (other than me). Presenting ... the Sustainable Food Blog!

Don't worry, I'll still be blogging here. Now, go! Enjoy!

My garden still looks puny compared to the neighbors, but it's making food. I've still got a favorite lettuce plant making me salads, and now I've got beans!

I don't know how they got this big without me noticing. The purple beans above are a variety called "Royal Burgundy". In a nearby bed, and harder to see, are the similar-shaped green beans of "Provider". Back in the corner I have "Light Red Kidney", which has much bigger, lumpier pods.

Meanwhile, the tomato plants still have tiny green tomatoes, getting bigger every day. The late-planted zucchinis are getting big for being so young; with luck I'll have fall crops of all the usual summer veggies. I also planted a second and final round of beans (provider and LRK) and Ashworth corn. Both are supposed to mature early, so I expect I can harvest those in September or October.



The garden's not working out super well as a substitute for trips to the grocery store (I'd hoped we could get most of our veggies from our own garden) but Chris and I are learning a lot about how to grow a garden for next year. And since most of our crops are heirloom varieties that breed true, we'll be able to save the seeds from our hardiest plants to use in next year's garden.

Here's to next year, and to late crops of early vegetables!

kt writes:

Tell me three favorite desserts: one you make, one you buy at the store and one you'd order when out to eat, please.

Ooh, what a tough question, but so much fun to answer!

A dessert I make: The runner-up in this category is wine-poached pears. It's easy to make and there are a million variations.

But my favorite homemade dessert to eat is pumpkin pie. I make it a few times each fall - usually once to celebrate the first pumpkins of the season, and then again as a Thanksgiving treat. I might also make one for a special occasion or for Christmas.

Homemade pumpkin pie takes a while to make but is worth every minute. Whipped egg whites make it fluffy and light, but the pie is still chewy and substantial because the pumpkin is mashed roughly (not puréed).

Here is my recipe, featuring a photo tutorial on gutting the pumpkin. If you know how to make a great pie crust, your pie will be that much better; but if not, just buy a crust from the store and nobody will notice. (Crust? What crust?)

A dessert I buy:

Cupcakes. Oh, I am such a sucker for cupcakes, with their fluffy cake and their sugary buttery icing and their sprinkles and especially when they've got the little molded flowers made of sugar.....

A dessert I order:

There was a short-lived dessert at the Olive Garden that was one of the best restaurant desserts I've ever had (with apologies to Aladdin's carrot cake. Sorry, but you are just not the best.)

This was a tall cup of amaretto custard with layers of amaretto-soaked strawberries. Anything featuring fruit and dairy is a win in my book, and there is no better flavor in this world than amaretto.

So, what are your favorite desserts?

I've posted before about local food (summary: I think it's a good idea). Here's a local food project probably anyone can do: One Local Summer. Each week (or however often you like), make and eat one meal whose ingredients are local. To quote the original post, "Don’t fret over salt, spices or condiments. Focus your efforts on produce, dairy, eggs, meat and grains."

July is an excellent time to do this in the northern hemisphere - and I feel especially lucky to be doing it here in Ithaca. In just this past week I've bought local corn, green beans, snow peas, tomatoes, zucchini, summer squash, cherries, blueberries, and chicken. Meanwhile, I'm happy to report that my garden has produced its first bean pod! (I haven't seen it yet. Chris brought me the good news. "It's purple!" he exclaimed. That's a royal burgundy bean. These plants have purple pods and, as I already know, purple shells around their white flowers.)

So, try a local meal this week. Or if that sounds too daunting, make a trip to a local farmstand or market and find one local food item you'd like to eat. Too easy? make it two. You get the idea.

There's nothing like a good salad, eaten outside, for a summer lunch. But I don't mean a bowl full of lettuce - that's not a good salad.

A meal needs to have calories. It needs to have protein, carbs, and good fats. When you start adding beans, whole grains, fruits, non-lettuce veggies, cheese, nuts, the salad becomes a meal.

By the way, I don't buy the idea that a low-calorie meal is "healthy". Protein is healthy; fiber is healthy; vitamins are healthy. Food that leaves you feeling hungry is just a waste of time.



I provide this photo as inspiration. It's just a bowl of cold veggies, but it's making you drool all over your keyboard as you read this (right?) because it's made of mouthwatering actual food. I won't tell you that all the veggies are locally grown, fresh summer produce. (That would just make you drool even more.) Or that the beige glop on some of the veggies is perhaps the best salad dressing I've ever tasted (Annie's "Goddess" dressing).

Instead, I'll just give you the inspiration list for making your own killer salad. The items in bold are also in the salad above; the rest are just food for thought.

• dark green/colored lettuce (Iceberg doesn't count.)
  
• fresh leafy herbs, like basil
  
• chickpeas
  
• beans
  
• green beans
  
• tomatoes
  
• rice (ooh, try leftover fried rice)
  
• carrots
  
• potatoes (cubed and cooked)
  
• apples
  
• lentils
  
• cheese
  
• dried fruit, like craisins
  
• oats or other cooked grains
  
• quinoa
  
• pasta
  
• oranges
  
• berries
  
• avocado
  
• onions, scallions
  
• zucchini, summer squash
  
• winter squash (cooked)
  
• snap peas
  
• corn
  
• nuts
  
• seeds (sunflower, poppy, sesame...)
  
• dead animals (y'know, chicken, tuna, ...)
  
• dressing - If the Goddess isn't your style, make an easy dressing by mixing olive oil with a little vinegar. Season with salt, pepper, and optionally some dry herbs like oregano.
  

Have a scavenger hunt in your kitchen: how many of these items do you already have? Already-cooked leftovers count - in fact, with their spices and sauces they often make the most flavorful additions.

For more ideas on hearty salads and other veggie-loaded foods, check out this article on Stumptuous and scroll down to "garbage salad". Note that the garbage strategy works beautifully for soups, too.

I love to travel, and I love to fly. Sure, the seats are cramped, the planes are often late, and the TSA staff perpetually uptight and cranky, but you just can't beat ACTUALLY FLYING through the ACTUAL AIR as a method of transportation. It's like an amusement park ride that lasts for hours, and gives you a chance to catch up on your reading.

As a kid, my family lived in a USAir hub city and every flight was a nonstop. Now, I live in a little podunk town and have to take three or four planes for every trip. There's nothing like landing hungry and thirsty, looking forward to a nice lunch, when your plane is late and you only have five minutes to run to another terminal to catch the next flight.

So I learned, early in my podunk traveling days, to always bring a full water bottle with me to the airport. (To keep with the times, I now bring an empty bottle, and find a water fountain as soon as I'm through security.) And on those long, lunchless flights, a bag of scones stuffed in your carry-on is a lifesaver. It doesn't even matter if they get crushed; the crumbs taste just as good.

I have a hard time predicting whether I'll get hungry for food or hungry for candy, so for today's flight I made half my scones sweet and the other half savory. Don't let the unknown scare you: the savory cheese scones smelled almost like a pizza coming out of the oven, attracting both dogs and people to the kitchen, even the people whose reaction was "you put CHEESE in your SCONES?". They quickly changed their tune!

You can whip up these scones in just a few minutes, so long as you have heavy cream in your fridge; no need to soften any butter or bother with eggs or oil. The cream is the secret ingredient, making the scones light and fluffy. They'll be fluffier the less you stir the cream, so if you're using a mixer, only turn it on for a few short seconds.

I firmly believe that these scones are, if not healthy, at least better for you than anything you'd get at the airport newsstand on your way to your gate. Feel free to vary the ingredients. Scallions go particularly well in cheese scones; fruity scones are delicious with lemon juice in place of the vanilla extract.

These two half-batches can replace breakfast and lunch for 1-2 ravenous travelers, with some left over. If you're staying home, that works out to 12-18 medium sized scones to eat at your leisure.

Sweet cranberry oatmeal scones

• 1/2 pint cream
  
• 1/2 cup sugar
  
• 1 tbsp baking powder
  
• 1/4 tsp salt
  
• 1/2 cup quick oats
  
• 1/2 cup dried cranberries (or try other dried fruits or nuts)
  
• 2 tsp vanilla extract
  
• 1.5 cups flour
  

Preheat the oven to 350, and mix all ingredients except the flour. Slowly mix in the flour to make a fluffy dough. (You may have some flour left over; that's fine.)

Transfer the dough to a baking sheet, and pat it into a round cake. Cut the cake into triangles, as you would a pizza (or form the shapes of your choice, say round or square), and space the scones equally on the sheet. Bake at 350 for 10-15 minutes, or until the corners just start to turn golden-brown.

Savory cheese scones

• 1/2 pint cream
  
• 1 tbsp baking powder
  
• 1/4 tsp salt
  
• 1/4 tsp garlic powder
  
• 1/2 tsp dried oregano
  
• 1/2 tsp dried basil
  
• 1/2 cup grated pepper jack or sharp cheddar cheese
  
• 1.5 cups of flour (I used half white flour and half wheat)
  

Prepare as for sweet scones, mixing the flour in last, and dividing the dough into triangles or the shapes of your choice. Bake at 350 degrees for 10-15 minutes, or until the corners just start to turn golden-brown.

This article on cheaply equipping a kitchen includes a list of the most and least useful kitchen items, according to the author (Mark Bittman). I disagree on some of the items, but I agree with the moral of this story:

The point is not so much that you can equip a real kitchen without much money, but that the fear of buying the wrong kind of equipment is unfounded. It needs only to be functional, not prestigious, lavish or expensive.

There are many, different, functional kitchens. I grew up in a kitchen without wooden spoons or sharp knives; I still can't figure out how my parents managed to cut or stir anything, but somehow dinner got on the table anyway.

My kitchen, while functional, is very different from the one described in that article. Here are my favorite tools:

• a wok - Bittman recommends against one, but who are you going to believe, somebody with the sense to use a wok or somebody without? (admittedly, I probably use my wok in place of his large skillet). This thing is wonderful for any task that begins with oil or butter - like cooking onions for a soup, making a stir-fry, making a pasta sauce (and then stirring in the pasta), and millions of other things. It's great for heating canned soups and curries, and for re-heating leftovers of any sort (much better than the microwave we don't have). I use my wok almost every day.
  
• a cast iron skillet - Chris uses his cast-iron pan about as often as I use my wok; that's what you do when your idea of lunch is an unadorned slab of cow. Chris cleans his pans with soap, and re-seasons them occasionally. (Some people prefer to get their pans all greasy and salty in lieu of cleaning.)
  
• a colander from the dollar store - great for washing berries, beans, and other small items. (For pasta, I just use the pot lid).
  
• a stockpot - also on Bittman's "not necessary" list. Sure, I could use my pasta pot for soups or multi-serving pasta dishes, but one miscalculation would send the soup over the edge. I don't calculate anything, especially not soup. I use a nice tall stockpot.
  
• a grater - obsoleted by a food processor? Seriously? I've rarely gotten anything good out of a food processor. If I try to grate something in there, I'll end up with most pieces too small or too large, and none at the right size. Also, a food processor is much more of a PITA to clean than a grater. Grater it is.
  
• a couple sharp knives - never in my life have I felt the need to own a mandoline. I'm just saying. (We're fortunate to have a set of ceramic knives as a wedding gift from Chris's parents - love them!)
  
• stand mixer - Maybe we don't need it exactly, but it has more patience than I do for kneading bread dough, and it makes Chris's homemade ice cream possible. Another wonderful wedding gift.
  
• steel mixing bowls - we can agree here, super useful. Our set includes several sizes and a couple of prep bowls, all with lids.
  
• bamboo and silicone spatulas; baking pans and cookie trays (but NOT the kind with the nonstick coating; it eventually leaves nonstick metal flakes embedded in your food); and I do like the dutch oven for my bread. That's the essentials, I think.
  

Here are the things I wouldn't bother with - a mandoline (I'd use a knife or a grater); a salad spinner (what's that for again?); a microplane grater (ok, I'm just jealous that I don't have one); a coffee grinder (I don't drink coffee, and I've got a mortar and pestle if I really need to grind something). I gotta wonder, what do you need to food-process 14 cups of? If you have a small processor, you can divide your large quantity of food into batches; but if you have a large processor, good luck making a single cup of pesto (or finding 14 cups of fresh basil).

I also don't use a microwave; anything a microwave can do, an oven or frying pan can do better. Well, and we don't eat much popcorn. A whetstone isn't necessary for the ceramic (they keep their edge for a long time, and then you're supposed to send them away to be sharpened).

The other day I was going to make a spicy lentil stew, and I didn't have any lentils. It's kind of silly to drive to the grocery store just for a bag of lentils, right?

So that's how I got to searching for non-lentil soup recipes, figuring I'd gather the provisions for several stews at once. I ended up making Farmhouse Stew, which is some vegan's idea of what beef stew would taste like if beef wasn't made of cows.

I'm not normally a fan of fake meat, but this stew is so good that, well, you're reading it. Even my carnivorous husband liked it. It's hearty and thick, with tender carrots, potatoes, and mushrooms. The broth is flavored with tamari and tahini. Put these both on your grocery list. You'll use the tahini later, for hummus, so stock up on chickpeas too.

My only additions were a little salt and thyme; I also subbed a few slices of curry-flavored Susie's Seitan for the seitan chunks they recommend.

Serves 4
”Old-fashioned beef-stew flavor with a newfangled twist—no beef!”
This recipe is from The Vegan Sourcebook by Joanne Stepaniak.

• 4 cups diced potatoes (thin-skinned or peeled)
• 4 large carrots, sliced in half lengthwise and cut into 1-inch chunks
• 2 cups vegetable broth (or water)
• 2 stalks celery, finely chopped
• 2 bay leaves
• 1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
• 1 cup chopped onions
• 2 cups sliced mushrooms
• 2 tablespoons whole-wheat pastry flour
• 2 tablespoons tahini
• 1/2 cup water
• 3 tablespoons tamari
• 2 cups seitan chunks
• Salt and ground black pepper to taste

1. Place the potatoes, carrots, broth or water, celery, and bay leaves in a 4 1/2-quart saucepan or Dutch oven. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat to medium. Cover and simmer, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables are tender, about 20 minutes.

1. Meanwhile, place the oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the onion and sauté for 8 minutes or until almost tender. Add the mushrooms and continue to sauté, stirring often, until tender, about 4 to 6 minutes longer.

1. Remove the skillet from the heat. Stir in the flour and mix well. Then stir in the tahini and mix well. Gradually stir in the 1/2 cup water and tamari, and mix vigorously until the sauce is smooth. Stir this mixture into the hot cooked vegetables and their liquid and mix well.

1. Stir in the seitan and bring the stew to a boil, stirring almost constantly. Reduce the heat to medium and continue to stir and simmer the stew just until the sauce thickens, about 3 to 5 minutes. Remove the bay leaves and season with salt and pepper. Ladle into bowls and serve hot.

Somehow I seem to never have luck with garbage soups. I mix together a bunch of soup-worthy ingredients, simmer them for an hour, and what do I get? A whole lot of nothing. Bland, boring, a waste of vegetables.

The other day I made a soup like this, and despite some promising ingredients (a 32-bean soup mix, lots of garlic, etc) it tasted like the usual blandness. In a desperate attempt to produce something edible, I added some salt. Then I added some more salt. Then, sensing the potential for greatness, I added about a half teaspoon of each soup-worthy herb I could find in the cabinet. And you know what? It worked!

Here's the recipe, before I forget. It turned out absolutely delicious.

Ingredients & Directions

Freely add or substitute anything you have on hand. This is a "garbage soup", meaning you throw in whatever's in your fridge that will become garbage if you don't eat it soon. This is also a great use for those multi-bean dry soup mixes that are suddenly so popular.

• several glugs of olive oil
• half a head of garlic
• [and/or] 1 onion or leek

Peel the garlic. Get out your stockpot and pour in enough olive oil to cover the bottom. Turn the heat on low and start cutting up the garlic (mince, crush, or slice - your choice). As the garlic cooks, cut up the onion or leek and add that too. (You can also add curry paste or spices at this point.) The garlic and onions will turn golden-brown and start to smell really good. To keep them from burning while you work on the other ingredients, throw in a mug-ful of water.

Add the following ingredients, or any ingredients you like. The soup mix and potato are strongly recommended.

• 1 cup of pre-soaked dry bean soup mix (I used North Bay's 32-bean mix. You could sub 1 cup of your favorite dried beans.)
• 1 large potato, diced
• 1 apple, diced
• celery? carrots? canned peas? frozen corn? dry lentils? beets? sweet potatoes? Look to your fridge for inspiration.
• 1 heaping tsp natural peanut butter
• 1/2 tsp thai red curry paste
• enough water to cover (you could use veggie or meat broth, but this soup tastes great even with just water)

Simmer for about 1 hour, or until the beans are squishy. You could also cook it all day in a crock pot if that's your thing.

A few minutes before serving, add the following, to taste (use 1/2-1 tsp for each of the herbs)

• salt and pepper
• thyme
• dill
• rosemary
• oregano
• basil
• parsley
• etc

If it's still bland at this point, add more herbs and maybe a little extra salt.

The rule of thumb, by the way, is that spices made of seeds, like cumin or coriander, go in at the beginning (this includes curry powder) whereas leafy green herbs, like basil, go in a few minutes from the end.

You'll notice that the potatoes have released some of their starch into the water, thickening the soup. If the soup isn't thick enough for you, boil it to reduce the water. (Some people prefer to cook the potatoes as the first step, before you even put the garlic in. Crazy, huh?)

Serve hot, with crusty bread if you've got it. Refrigerate the leftovers; they're even better the next day.

If that's not enough awesomeness for you, consider mixing other leftovers into your leftover soup. For lunch today I mixed in leftover brown rice and dal makhani.

This article, "Unhappy meals" by Michael Pollan confirms a few beliefs that I've been calling my "crackpot theories" in recent years, including that (a) we don't know shit about nutrition (future scientists will laugh at our carbs-vs-fat debates like we laugh at the Four Humors) and (b) numerical measurements of food contents (calories, etc) will be shown to be almost meaningless.

Pollan's story about the government always recommending "eat more" and never "eat less" is told in more detail in the book Food Politics, which has lots more juicy gossip on the USDA and friends.

Speaking of juicy gossip, word on the street is that the FSF's associate member meeting is set for Saturday, March 24th. If it's anything like the past meetings, it'll be on MIT's campus and will feature an amazing afternoon talk by Eben Moglen. His talk alone (full of juicy gossip about under-the-table deals in the software industry) is worth the price of membership, and you can think of the rest of the conference as a freebie!

The same weekend is the Boston Tea Party, a swing dance event with six tracks of workshops, and tons of dances and competitions. Only 20 minutes away! They even have a beginner's track, so if you're in town for the FSF meeting you can learn to swing dance while you're there.

Meanwhile the CFP is out for YAPC 2007! It's in Houston this year. Hopefully I'll be there, and hopefully I'll be speaking, but I don't know yet about what. (Hey perl dorks: If you heard my talk at PPW, did it leave any burning questions that you hoped would be addressed in a later talk?)

OK, your bonus for reading to the end of this rambling post: a song from the new-ish album Strange Conversation by Kris Delmhorst. All the songs are other people's poetry, set to her music. They're all beautiful tunes, and some of them are really rockin', like this one, "Water Water". The album also features an excellent rendition of anyone lived in a pretty how town done as a fast-paced country ballad. It's available on emusic, my favorite DRM-free mp3 store (cheaper than itunes, works on any device, and it's a great place to discover new music. No, they don't pay me to plug them, but I want to support them because they are awesome. Happy customer for 2 years now.). I browsed back through Kris Delmhorst's other albums; none of them grabbed me like Strange Conversation but I did like several of the tracks on Five Stories - especially the energetic "Honeyed Out" and the really sweet "Lullaby 101".

I've just returned from a long vacation on the internet, and look what I brought you!

A Madagascan species of moth acts something like a salt vampire, piercing sleeping birds' eyelids and sucking out the tears. This isn't the only salt-sucking moth; others feed on large animals, like crocodiles, who can't easily get away. Since this one preys on birds, it has to wait for the birds to fall asleep, and then poke through their eyelids.

Orangette is a mouth-watering food blog full of anecdotes, food photography, and frequent and delicious-looking recipes. I particularly liked her post on ugly winter vegetables which included a recipe for, of all things, celeriac. (I'll be getting some of this in my winter CSA from Blue Heron Farm. I've been wondering what I will do with it.) She says:

There were a lot of mean girls in my middle school, so I relate to anything scorned, gawky, or with bad skin. Come winter, that includes a significant part of the produce section. [...] Give me your poor, your tired, your lumpy and ugly and stubborn! I will give them a home. (Even if it is in my stomach, which is admittedly sort of dark and wet.) This week, I’m hosting a few celery roots. First, I tucked them into a warm pot on the stove, then I gave them a ride in the blender, and now they’re resting contentedly in the well of a soup spoon. They’re getting lots of love around here.

More recipes for local foods from the finger lakes (NY, US) can be found here.

A cheap chemical called DCA has been found to kill cancer cells and leave healthy cells alone. Cancer cells "turn off" the mitochondria and survive by glycolysis, probably because mitochondria play a role in apoptosis. DCA seems to turn the mitochondria back on. Because the drug has been around a while (it's used to treat certain metabolic disorders) it's out of patent, cheap, and known to be relatively safe. For the same reasons, though, drug companies aren't willing to fund research into it (no patent, no monopoly on profits). Interestingly, capsaicin (the hot stuff in chili peppers) was found to have a similar effect.

A month earlier, researchers used capsaicin in a different way, to kill off pain nerves in the pancreas of diabetic mice, apparently curing them of diabetes.

Other links of interest include this museum collection of vintage dresses; this visual history of the (USA) political parties; a recipe for brie with cherry chutney (haven't tried it, but it looks delicious); and a "humping dog" usb gadget.

I'll do anything to avoid studying for my final - so here's a recipe that I'll be making in a few days as an out-of-the-bird stuffing at a Christmas dinner.

It's my version of a Cornbread Apple Stuffing like this one.

* splash of vegetable oil
* 1 onion, chopped
* 1-2 sticks celery, chopped
* 2-3 tart apples, also chopped (try Granny Smith or Empire)
* (you could include sweet peppers or cranberries. I can't, since my husband hates both. Add them to the pot at the same time as the apples.)
* 1 box jiffy cornbread mix (plus whatever it calls for - I think an egg)
* 1 box no-chicken broth, or the liquid of your choice
* "herbes de provence" - this is French for "whatever". I just close my eyes and pull random jars out of the spice rack.
* a 9x9 or 9x13 baking pan.

1. Mix the cornbread and bake according to directions (but don't bother greasing the pan). In the meantime, start chopping the veggies.
2. When the cornbread is done, use a spatula or wooden spoon to break it up, so you have a pan full of crumbly chunks. Set aside. (remember NOT to wash the pan and NOT to turn the oven off! Set it to 450.)
3. In a big pot, saute the onion and celery in the oil. When they start getting soft, add the chopped apples and the broth. Simmer a few minutes.
4. dump all that cornbread into the pot. Add your herbs and spices - anything green will work (basil, parsley, etc). Maybe some salt and pepper too.
5. then, dump the whole mixture back into the pan you baked the cornbread in a minute ago, which probably still has some cornbread crumbs in it. See how we recycle? Bake that sucker for 30-45 minutes.

The "Battle of the Plant Sciences" chili cookoff is upon us. Marty and I are entering a little something we call Solanaceous Gastronomic Nitroglycerin¹ into the Vegetarian category. (Note the acronym.)

We make the chili tomorrow (after my stats exam - it's a busy week) and the competition is Friday. We plan on serving it with some of that delicious bread. Wish us luck! Not that we'll need it.

If you're in town, the cookoff is in Emerson 135 on Cornell campus, at 3:00.

¹ It was officially submitted as "Solanaceous Gastronomic Niftiness".

How often do you get bread like that out of your own oven?

This is the recently famous Jim Lahey no-knead bread from the nytimes last week. The recipe is noted for producing an artisan-looking bread with a crusty crust and a soft interior with lots of big bubbles. (These are very sought-after features according to bread snobs). However, the procedure is very simple; it's the perfect homemade bread for lazy people.

There are apparently two tricks in the recipe: one is the super long rising time (18 hours), and the other is that you bake it in a cast-iron pot to keep moisture in. (Other tricks for getting a crusty crust typically involve pans of water in the oven).

In case the recipe link is broken, here are the basics: Mix 3 cups flour, 1/4 tsp yeast, 1.25 tsp salt, 1 and 5/8 cups water. (dough will be sticky.) Go to bed, wake up, go to work, and when you come home 18 hours will have elapsed.

On a floured surface, fold the dough once or twice, then let it sit between a couple of towels for 2 hours. (I skipped this step - didn't have time).

Preheat the oven at 450 with the cast-iron pot inside. Plop the dough into the pot, bake for 30 minutes with the lid on, and another 15-30 with the lid off.

My thoughts: the bread looked ready after just 30 minutes; I let it go longer and it came out darker than I'd like. Otherwise, it tastes great! It looks and tastes like it came out of a fancy bakery. The total "active time" I spent on it probably adds up to 10 minutes. I'm a believer! Next I'll start experimenting with a cheese and garlic version.

today's photo:



The "Battle of the Plant Sciences" chili cookoff is set for next week. The trash-talking has begun.

I post this at (further) risk of Marty calling me an apple snob, but I don't care. It's apple season now, there are a lot of good apples in New York, and antique apples are worth seeking out. I'm lucky that I live near an agricultural research station that specializes in apples, the Cornell Orchards, and several local apple growers who come to the Apple Harvest Festival and to the Farmer's Market. Last year, somebody from the agricultural station gave a talk at the library about apples, and brought plenty to taste. It was, I thought, a rare opportunity to taste some antique apples. Later, I found a few of the same apples at the market, which made me very happy.

One of those apples was the Cox's Orange Pippin, which I found last year from Littletree Orchards. (They called it "Cox Orange"). It's got a certain taste that reminds me of orange flavored pez candy, sort of chalky-sweet with a little bit of tartness.

What caught my eye at the farmer's market was a Kidd's Orange Red (abbreviated "Kidd Orange") from Black Diamond Farm. They didn't know if it was any relation to Cox's, but I bought a few after tasting a sample; it tasted like a Cox Orange. It turns out that Kidd's Orange Red is a cross between Cox's Orange Pippin and Red Delicious. (As we all know from The Botany Of Desire, apples don't breed true; an apple tree grown from seed won't necessarily taste like either of its parents. Most seedling apples are sour, bitter, or both. So it's a big deal to find a good apple, even if its parents are both tasty. The Red Delicious was actually named in a contest, where some apple baron had the name already picked out (the "Delicious"), and held a nationwide search for the best new apple in the US.)

After tasting the Kidd's Orange, I looked up and saw the farm's sign: they specialize in antique apples. Next, I looked to my right and saw Ashmead's Kernel; to the left, and I saw Margil.

Everywhere I've looked it up, Ashmead's Kernel is described as an ugly apple. What gives? It's just as ugly as any other apple: roundish, greenish, appley. It does have russeted skin, but that's pretty normal for antique apples. (Apparently, supermarkets don't like to carry russeted apples. They're missing out.) So the Ashmead's was my favorite of the day: tart and sweet. I seem to like the tart apples, I guess. It's a good one, and reminds me a little of NY674, a newish apple that doesn't have a name yet but is extremely tasty. You can get it from the Cornell Orchard store, but I don't know if it's still in season now.

The Margil is a tiny green French apple, very sweet with no tartness. I wasn't crazy about it, so I only bought about 6 of them (hey, they're small!) Chris liked them.

Yesterday I stopped by Black Diamond again at the market, and they had a bunch of new ones. I brought home a Pound Sweet that was full of water core It was aptly named: weighed a pound, and was sweet and mild. I thought Chris would like it, but he didn't. So I'll mix it with others and make a really good applesauce.

I got a few Roxbury Russets - another tart/sweet apple that's right up my alley. And my favorite that day was the Calville Blanc. This one (aka Caville Blanc) turns out to have been the apple that Thomas Jefferson liked so much he had a bunch of trees shipped over from France and planted at Monticello. It’s got that multi-lobed appearance (there’s a name for it), has a lot of vitamin C (according to rumor, more than an orange), and supposedly doesn’t turn brown when you cut it. (ok, it does a little).

Today Chris came back from the grocery store with a big honker of an apple labeled Stayman Winesap. I tried to cut it with my apple slicer, but it was too big and got stuck. So we passed it back and forth, taking bites. It was a really good apple.

I guess it's only fair, after all this raving about delicious apples, to mention the one antique apple I've had and hated: a Blue Pearmain from the Cornell orchards. It was purple, with tough skin, and had a bland, mushy sort of flavor. Blecch.

Get some frozen juice concentrate, and some seltzer. Mix, in the recommended ratio (usually 1 part concentrate to 3 parts water). It's fizzy! It's sweet! Like soda only good for you.

(The trilobite is coming soon. Sorry for the wait.)

This dessert is so good that even Chris likes it. All you need is a pear, a bottle of wine, and 10 minutes.

Despite their virtues of fastness and easiness, wine-poached pears are fancy stuff, so try this next time you want to impress somebody.

Ingredients:
1 pear (try a soft ripe Anjou)
About a glass of white wine (how about a Riesling?)
A splash of vanilla extract (optional)

Directions:
Peel the pear, cut it in half, and remove the core by cutting a V-shaped groove in each half; scoop out any remaining core with a spoon.

Pour the wine into a wok or skillet, and place the pear halves in. Roll them around a bit, then set them cut side down. Turn the heat on low.

For flavoring, add a splash (about a teaspoon) of vanilla extract. No vanilla extract? Grate a little orange rind instead, or in addition. Some people swear by cinnamon.

Cover and cook for about 5-10 minutes, or until the pears are completely soft (test them with a knife). Remove the cover, and let the wine boil off a little, so it thickens into a sauce. Serve the pears with sauce poured all over them.

Variations: Try red wine instead of white (the pears soak up the red color). Serve with melted chocolate, or whipped cream, or zabaglione.