Soft Vision of Art(ichoke)

Saucyman – How much of an artichoke gets peeled away? I have little ones but they still look like they should be peeled – Thistle Blower

Good timing, Saucykitchen™ has some medium sized chokes that absolutely need to get used tonight. They are going dinner along with crab cakes and aioli made with green garlic. I hate calling them crab cakes, sure they are ‘C’ – rab as opposed to ‘K’ – rab, because they are made from canned crab meat, from Thailand, which was on sale – the cans aren’t bulging or sweaty or anything but that combination is such a poor triangulation, my next post could be on ptomaine.

Anyway, the question was about artichokes, sorry. Saucyman has never understood the appeal of the steamed or boiled huge (Globe) artichoke: Dipped in butter, nibbled leaf by leaf, it seems an odd way to waste an afternoon. However, the baby to toddler-sized versions of the plant are an early springtime favorite. (For those who disagree, the California Artichoke Advisory Board has instructions and ideas here.)

The thing about the wee artichokes is you keep peeling and peeling, thinking you are over-pruning the plant, throwing away all the money you spent, but in reality - there is just a lot of waste on the artichoke.

Personally, I remove leaves until I become concerned I have taken too much off and then I force myself to remove one more layer. If that instruction is a tad too neurotic, color is a far better guide. Remove all the green-purple leaves and keep going to you get to a rich lemony yellow color. Depending on the size, quarter or slice the wee choke in half and dig out the inedible, cough-inducing aptly named choke. Figuring out what edible or too thistly is easy, even for those who have never previously cracked open a fresh artichoke – Ask yourself, if you’d want to eat that hairy, spiny, pokey portion of the veg. If the answer is ‘no’, holding the offending portion between your thumb and the tip of a pairing knife and yank to remove.

Everyone always talks about the leaves but my favorite parts fall below the chokes' equator. Like the top half, the base and stem need some work before they become edible - here too color is a good guideline, removing the green will leave the stem tasty and chewy and it will cook at the same rate as the rest of the artichoke. In between the stem and the leaves is the base - it should be smoothed out – remove the woody nubs. Again, ask yourself the important question of whether you’d want to eat that – it the answer is no, shave it down with a pairing knife.

Artichokes brown when exposed to air, discoloring quicker than avocados or apples, it’s important to rub the recently peeled artichoke with lemon and then place the peeled choke in a bowl of cold acidulated water - the juice of 2 small lemons works well - until the chokes are ready to cook.

The small chokes are really good sautéed in olive oil or butter - if that is what you’re into and I usually am. If the chokes are older, tougher or bigger they might have to be heated in water before hitting the fat of the frying pan. They are done when the veg can be pierced with a fork, season well with salt and pepper. Although, a meal onto itself, cooked chokes go especially well with seafood, rice, aioli, lemon, garlic, butter, Gremolata. Cold, stuffed into a piece of bread with a little shaved Parmesan (cheese) they make a damn good sandwich.

Tipping Tat

Saucyman, I took clients out to a expensive restaurant and had a horrible, awful waiter. He set the entrees down in front of the wrong people, presented the bottle of wine to the oldest man at the table instead of the person who ordered it (Me – a youngish woman) and then got all chatty and friendly right before the check. I normally tip around 20% but have gone as high as 50% for really good service, I left 10% and feel I shortchanged him. What is the rate one tips for bad service? - Cheap is how I feel


0%, Nada, Nothing, take a pen and write ‘no tip’ in thick block letters in the blank line reserved for the gratuity. Whether ordering barbecue standing at a counter, sitting down for a bowl of Pho, or dining in a fancy pants establishment, there is a basic level of service to expect. Tipping isn’t an entitlement; if your server cannot provide the basic standards of his/her profession then they don’t deserve a gratuity.

This runs contrary to most advice – generally travel writers, advice columnists and gentler souls recommend leaving a smaller percentage of 5 – 10%. The logic being in most places tips aren’t really tips at all but de facto wages - expected, taxed and needed. Additionally, not tipping negatively impacts busboys, backwaiters, dishwashers, hosts and occasionally kitchen staff, but low tipping takes money away from them too.

Tipping at a lower rate is ineffective because:

• I (embarrassingly) know people (under 65 even) who tip 10% for good service.

• Being a cheap bastard has no punitive effect on anyone but yourself. (Seriously, does Dickens spend anytime on the miserly Scrooge’s bad waiters?)

•Tipping at low rate allows for wiggle room – The waiter is equally dissatisfied with you and can feel you were a difficult customer & a bad tipper. Or that you were on an expense account and can’t/won’t tip above your policy so what is the point. Or the tips were off because the kitchen was slow all evening. No tip unequivocally states a waiter failed at doing their job.

To purposefully leave no gratuity, the nuclear option of tipping, you have to be extra sure you are experiencing bad service. Since this should be the last resort, it has been 3 years since I felt compelled to skip a tip, be careful and ask yourself: Was the restaurant crowded, are you cranky because you waited or your reservations weren’t ready? Was the staff shorthanded? Was the food sub-par, did it take forever to get your order? Is your server making excuses or trying to correct a problem? Although they might wear your patience down, a bad date or an obnoxious client isn’t your waiters fault - sometimes it is hard to sort emotions out in the moment, just sayin'. Each of the above makes for an unpleasant dining experience, but they aren't the result of bad service.

Waiters have bad days, make mistakes and aren’t always at their best, besides good food and good company will generally overcome the worst a waiter can do. If the service is poor, I tip my bare minimum 15% - exactly down to the penny and let it go at that. From your description you had aggressively bad service: Your waiter paid little attention to his responsibilities, failed at the things well within his control and then when it was important to him, he turned up the charm attempting to gloss over his negligence– you should be thankful he was just your waiter not your boyfriend. You could feel righteous leaving no tip.

One final note is that you are pretty much obligated to follow up with the owner/manager about what happened. Odds are you will tell your friends and associates why you will never eat at that establishment again, the owners should have access to the same information. Wait one or two business days, be specific about your complaints, like you were with me and let the manager react – they might not handle it well either, but you should give them a chance to make corrections and win back your business.

Bourboic Praise

Just as there is a Scotland, there is also a Bourbon - a county in Kentucky, so named to give thanks and praise for the French Monarchy's support during the Revolutionary War. Within Bourbon County there are no operational distilleries, no legal stills anyway (In fairness - my perception of the southern still economy is based on Dukes of Hazard reruns, not fact). The legal designation of Bourbon is set by mostly non-geographical criteria, including:

• Whiskey must be distilled in the US
• The Whiskey must be 51% corn
• Must be aged for at least 2 years in new charred oak barrels
• Cannot be distilled to greater than 160 proof & must be bottled at least 80 proof
• Only water can be added after the whiskey is distilled (no caramel colors)

The difference between Scotch and Bourbon is what they are distilled from: Scottish whisky is distilled from the locally grown barley, Bourbon is made from the native grain of the Americas, corn. Although the legal standard is 51% corn, most Bourbons are going to use closer to 2/3 corn in their mash with the remaining grain comprised of rye, barley and occasionally wheat depending on the distiller.

Corn determines Bourbon’s taste but it is the aging of the whiskey in charred oak barrels that adds depth to the drink. Originally, oak planks were heated over a small fire, to help keep wood wood pliable, aiding the cooper in the barrel making process. Whether through trial and error, accident or innovation distillers eventually learned that by letting the inside of barrel burn or char added a breadth of flavor to the whiskey, in particular vanilla.

Vanilla is complex, comprised of 100s of different compounds, including its primary flavoring component, vanillin. Vanillin is not exclusive to the Vanilla Orchid it is present in other compounds including oil of clove and wood pulp. Charring oak extracts soluble agents, including vanillin from the wood, after a few years in a charred barrel the whiskey evolves a caramel, spicy, vanilla-ee taste.

While Scotch is very distinct, it can be seen and valued as dry, manly and as comfortable as plaid- it is so distinguishable that it is hard to mix with other potables - there aren’t too many cocktails other than the Rob Roy (Scotch, vermouth & bitters shaken over ice). Bourbon’s spicy nuances, combined with the inherent sweetness of corn liquor lend itself well to mixed drinks and cocktails: The Old Fashioned, the Mint Julep, The Manhattan and Whiskey Sour just for starters.

Good but not great (and expensive) Bourbons can be used in cocktails but for those who like their drinks neat, there are real good sippin’ whiskeys. Unlike Scotch’s single malts, Bourbon is made from a mixture of different grains and cannot offer such a distinction for its premium whiskeys, instead there is a somewhat confusing choice of terms to designate top-notch selections:

• Single Barrel – Whiskey is pulled from a single barrel, it is cut with water to reach the desired consistency. Neither blended or mixed with other whiskey from the distiller - What goes into the barrel is what comes out years later.
• Small Batch – Some distillers are inclined to believe that a single barrel can produce widely differing whiskey and prefer to blend different barrels to create a more uniform product. Perpetual award winner Buffalo Trace and personal favorites Knob Creek and Woodford Reserve (Warning: They were the official Bourbon of W's second inauguration) all use this small batch technique for their whiskeys and all 3 are really good consistently. Really, Really good.

Those are whisky/whiskey basics – This week’s 2000 word introduction doesn’t cover Rye, Tennessee or Canadian Whiskey, moonshine, taxation, Shay’s Rebellion and other endlessly fascinating aspects of distilling, so we will revisit the subject in more detail as questions arise.

Whisky-Pedia II: Grousing Famously

While the genus Scotch has very specific taxonomy: It must be from Scotland, distilled from malted barley, aged at least 3 years in oak casks – by style and by region, Scotch shows great deal of individuality.

Scotch Whiskies are produced in 5 official domains: Highland, Lowland, Campeltown, Islay and Speyside. It would be an over simplification to say that the Highland whiskies have hints of heather and peat, the Lowland are likely to be triple distilled and the Isle of Islay produces only single malts. These geographical regions are along the lines of wine appellations - informing where the product came from - rather than being used to designate a particular style.

The character of an individual Scotch is determined by whether it is a blended or a single malt Scotch, more than by its birthplace. Single malt is a Whisky made at a single distillery from a single grain. A blended Whisky is made from a combination of whiskies and cereals (Usually including grains other than barley).

The standard bias states single malts are superior. Whether this is due to taste, the application of craftsmanship or some form of snobbery is debatable. 90% of all Scotch sold is the blended kind, including the powerhouse brands J&B, Dewars, Johnnie Walker and Chivas. As unrepentant Bourbon lovers, Saucyman has nary a problem with blending from different casks, combining distillate from are different years and batches or mixing whisky produced at more than one distillery to make a unified product. A blended Scotch like The (titular article) Famous Grouse is a good product, not better or worse than a single malt: A good Whisky is a good whisky.

The one area where single malt and blended Scotch Whiskies differ - is not in quality but in how they are used. It is a highly personal choice how to take one’s Whisky but for Single Malts, a sprinkle of water, an ice cube or just plain neat (sans all but a glass - drinking straight out of a bottle is called something else) will really help take in all the subtleties of a particular Scotch. Other ingredients, like soda or vermouth, could distract from the nuance of a hand-crafted Whisky.

Because Scotch varies so much in taste, it is impossible to recommend a starter brand. A better way to get an idea of what you personally like, is to find a good bar, maybe even a fancy bar, possibly located in a hotel and ask the bartender to recommend two Scotch Whiskies. Start by trying a blended next to a single malt. Your next visit you can compare a peaty variety against a less peaty Whisky. On a different night taste an 8 year old and a 12 year old made by the same company side by side. Although this might use up your allowance for a month or so at least you will be an educated when you go to buy your first bottle of good Scotch rather than feel you are buying a $40 to $80 lottery ticket – ending up with an expensive thing you might not like.

We’ll wrap up whiskey week on Friday with Bourbon. I thought I was being all clever by calling this series ‘Whisky-Pedia’, it turns out there is actually a whiskipedia and for more detailed and possibly more accurate information about brown liquor, you can link to them here.

Whisky-Pedia

Saucyman – What is the difference between scotch and bourbon? They’re both whiskeys right? Red Wine Drinker

Yes and no, they are both whiskeys in the dictionary sense – a spirit distilled from a malted grain. Scotch always designates itself with the w-h-i-s-k-y spelling, a derivative of the Gaelic, Uisge Beatha or water of life. Bourbon is a w-h-i-s-k-e-y, except when it isn’t, such as Forester or Maker’s Mark Whisky. In spite of tasting nothing alike, they do share similarities: Both are distilled from cereal grains & aged in oak barrels - resulting in a lovely, lovely brown hue (there ought to be a J.Crew sweater called ‘whisky’), and by law both must be aged years before being bottled.

Rather than compare and contrast, today’s post will cover what makes Scotch Scotch. The middle of the week will cover the different styles of Scotch – Highland, Lowland, Isle, Blended, Single Malt and we’ll close out the entry as I sauce poetic on my favorite of all brown liquors, Bourbon.

Scottish style whiskys are made all over the world – In the film, Lost in Translation, Bill Murray’s Bob Harris character was in Tokyo to promote a premium Japanese ‘Scotch’. Here in Oregon, we have an extra-way peaty liquor called McCarthy’s made by Portland spirit manufacturer, Steve McCarthy at his Clear Creek Distillery. But no matter the quality or fealty to the tradition, to be a true Scotch, a legal Scotch, the whisky must come from Scotland.

Besides being more Scottish than Sean Connery, Scotch Whisky is different than other aged distilled liquors - it involves only 3 primary components: Water, Barley and Peat. Water is pretty straight forward but there does seem to be a rationalization process: Many craft distillers find themselves located in mountainous areas near a water head - before the stream, river or lake water has much of a chance to experience industrial or agricultural run-offs.

Of the big 3 ingredients, barley is arguably the component that differentiates Scotch whisky from other styles of whiskEy. Barley, specifically a grass, is thought of as a cereal (specifically that would mean grape nuts but here it is meant in the general usage - a grain used for food) when it is not being thought of as animal fodder. For whisky production, barley is malted by steeping it in water, allowing the grain to germinate. Malting releases enzymes that aid the conversion of barley’s stored energy – starch - into fermentable sugars. Once the proper level of sweetness has been reached, the germination is halted by drying the barley. This is done mostly in kilns but some of the sprouted barley will be dried over a peat fire.

While malted barley may be the character of Scotch, peat is its personality. Peat is an organic (carbon-based, not chemical free) compound made of decomposed vegetable matter. It forms at the glacial rate of a ½ inch per year. Traditionally peat was cut into blocks and burned as fuel in rural Scotland. Not horribly efficient, it was by in large replaced by coal when railroads and industrialization linked Scotland, Wales and England together in the 19th Century. While no longer heating homes or firing stills, peat is an important component in the making of Scotch Whisky. It has a high moisture content and burns at a low temperature, resulting in smoke - using peat to end the malting process imbues a grassy/smoky/vegetal flavor in the final product.

After malting, most Scotch Whiskies (not Scotchs or Scotches) are double distilled (although Lowland distilleries are occasionally triple distilled), then racked in oak barrels. Traditionally, spent sherry casks/barrels were used for this maturation process, but as long as the wood is oak bourbon, Madeira, cognac or wine barrels can be used to age the Scotch. The legal requirement is a minimum of 3 years in wood, but 8 is the minimum for a good sippin’ whisky and 12 years is pretty much the gold standard for Scotch.

Next Entry: Saucyman will cover the different styles of Scotch.

Whole Lot of Grem

Saucyman – The menu said the poached fish was topped with Gremolata, should I know what this is? What is it? – Wasn’t going to order the fish anyway.


As for the more specific question: Should you know what Gremolata is, well I can’t answer that - too many variables go unmentioned. Should you have asked when the restaurant’s server queried if you had any questions about the menu? Probably, but waiters don’t always inspire the confidence when they ask vague, rote open-ended questions. Besides, Saucyman feels he can accurately answer your question.

In the same way the definition of a common word in a dictionary has a longer entry than the rarely used word - the one you are extra proud of placing on the scrabble board, Gremolata has some extra archival information to go with a rather short list of ingredients - garlic, lemon peel and the often abused, rarely appreciated, parsley.

We’ll let the entertaining and informative Waverly Root articulate:

“…gremalada (Milanese) or gremalata (Italian) [is a] sauce, but there are seven different opinions on how gremalada is made. The only ingredient on which everyone agrees is grated lemon peel. Parsley is so common that one would expect all the recipes to include that too, but only five of them do. Most Milanese would include crushed anchovy fillets, but four of the seven omit it.”
From The Food of Italy (1971, Vintage).

The one thing most people agree on, is Gremolata is usually served with Osso Buco, added to the pot shortly before service. Expect when they don’t, Marcella Hazan, claims to bypass Gremolata in her preparation of shanks braised in wine, but dutifully includes a recipe; she instructs using lemon, garlic and parsley.

Saucyman is no traditionalist - having added Gremolata to artichokes sautéed in butter earlier this week, but I object the need to ‘improve' traditional recipes with trendy ingredients or co-opt a name for a here to fore untried, untested and untrue mélange of foodstuffs. It grates a little. The words Mango & Salsa appearing next to each other still raises hackles and it has been like 20 years for that one. Eggplant Caviar, Beet Sashimi, Chutney of really expensive exotic things; all annoy - Something good doesn’t miraculously improve because it gets described in fancier terms.

In the Art of Simple Food, Alice Waters recommends Gremolata and its Franco (sans lemon peel) cousin, Persillade, to accompany “roasted and braised meats, pastas, and anything grilled”. On the pedestrian side of the street, Rachel Ray, wisely suggests Gremolata with asparagus. And the thoughtful and creative Becks & Posh, not only explains how to make Gremolata, but what to do with it, here. Sam, who took the lovely picture above, is more open minded and even includes links to some of the more pernicious nouveau Gremolata combinations.

Saucyman will return early next week with the first of a two-parter on the difference between Bourbon and Scotch.

Return of the Crock

This slow cooker seemed like a good idea when I got it, but I've never used it. What is the best meal to make in there? Platelicker

Good question & good timing, Platelicker - Saucykitchens™ has to return the crock pot that was on loan to answer a question about rice a few weeks ago. Besides the rice, we made red beans (for the rice), pinto beans, chicken stock, proofed pizza dough, cooked Tom Kha and closed out the testing with Osso Buco.

The stock was rich and flavorful, no complaints. The pizza dough rose evenly in a temperature controlled environment but I wouldn't have bothered if the crock wasn't already on the counter. The Osso Buco responded nicely to the crock's sure and steady heat but the shanks had to be seared on the stovetop first, adding an extra pan to the dishpit. The great thing about Tom Kha it’s a tasty 15 minute meal and I am not talking about the quarter hour it takes to call in an order and pick it up. In a crock pot, the Thai soup ended up taking 3 hours to prepare and the lemongrass, kaffir lime leaf flavors were subdued when prepared at a lower temperature.

The beans worked out the best. The thing about canned beans, the beans always taste like they are from a can – the texture is never right: smushy-gummy-invertebrate (true, they are beans). Taste suffers in the canning process too; salty with a slight metallic tang even after rinsing. Dried pinto beans thrown in the crock one morning with dried chilies, cumin, coriander and water easily produced some seriously delicious burrito-ready food by the time I returned home, possibly easier than opening a can.

The Red Beans required more attention, but they turned out real, real well. No small statement for what could easily be my all time favorite meal*. For those of you not from New Orleans/Southern Louisiana and are unfamiliar with Red Beans and Rice it is an amalgam of cooking styles - seemingly based on feijoada, cassoulet and chili, it is a common meal that comforts, nourishes and equalizes.

Red Beans has an odd leveling power: cooked both at home and in restaurants. In New Orleans, a city with some pretty big divides; the dish is a unifier. Consumed both by Uptown Brahmins and those living in the shadow of the levees. Loved equally across racial lines - Legend has it Louis Armstrong signed his letters “Red Beans and Ricely yours,” - a sign-off suggesting peace and love while hinting at the promise of the brotherhood of man.

Unfortunately, Ignatius J. Reilly and his tricky pyloric valve have little to say about such a gassy food but the dish is repeatedly captured in lyric: Sir Mix A Lot contends that baby’s back wouldn’t go unnoticed by Red Beans and Rice and you know, even though Baby Got Back, it is good to know the Red Beans are paying attention. Tom Waits invokes Red Beans to establish his bona fides in his overly earnest I Wish I Was in New Orleans. Best though is the way the meal is lovingly reminisced in the Eddie DeLange and Louis Alter standard Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans.

Traditionally made on Monday with the Ham bone from Sunday Dinner, the beans absorb the smoky/fatty, garlicky, spiced flavors of the pot, producing a wonderful gravy for the beans to swim in. While Red Beans might be a cultural touchstone, any dish prepared in so many different kitchens by so many diverse cooks will not be adapted from universally accepted recipe. I am looking at 7 similar but different recipes from 5 separate books. Personally, I like ham hock, garlic, smoked sausage, red pepper, onion, celery, parsley and a little tomato, stock, some spices and Crystal Hot Sauce but what do I know? I am a Midwestern living in the urban West – A culinary interloper and Red Bean Carpetbagger.

You should throw a few of your favorite things in your crock pot, wait 4 hours, add your vegetables and wait another couple of hours and see what you can spoon over rice.

*Like books and movies, I get to claim more than one favorite.

Curdish

God gave me lemons so I made lemon curd. Well it wasn’t exactly God, it was my neighbor, who through her work has access to free produce - not good enough to sell and not so far gone it needs to be thrown away. Certain mornings, my day begins with a box of perishable food sitting on my porch and like Kiefer Sutherland I have about 24 hours to do something heroic before it all goes bad. Well, maybe not heroic but at the very least decisive.

The lemons weren’t the usual pebbly skinned Eureka lemons, they were Meyer lemons. This variety of lemon tree was first introduced into California in 1908. Imported to the States from China by a US Agricultural Employee named Meyer - probably not a coincidence. The variety was promulgated as an ornamental plant rather than nursery stock.

The tree’s history is easy, the fruit is a little more complicated. Some believe the Meyer lemon is a cross between a lemon and a mandarin (orange, a mandarin orange). Others speculate the Meyer is the result of a spontaneous hybrid of a lemon and sweet orange. Others theorize the first Meyer lemon was randomly pollinated by a mutant sweet orange/tangerine combination. The fruit can mature year around, but the trees bear the most fruit in the spring and fall. Friends have told stories about parents cutting down Meyer trees because the fruit was a nuisance, but I have always considered those anecdotes more apocryphal commentary about their parents inability to catch trends or enjoy the pleasures of life, than actual chainsaw tales.

Even though the juice of the Meyer is sweeter and less acidic than your standard lemon, the use of the fruit wasn't promoted until recently. Alice Waters, through her Chez Panisse’s cookbooks was an early champion of the actual lemon. Unfortunately, books ship and store easier than the thin skinned Meyer. As a result, the Meyer tends to be less traveled than its more popular relatives - That and the fruit sells for a premium, so people who have read about the Meyer might not have had first hand experience with the perishable fresh fruit.

Curd, in the instance of lemon curd, has nothing to do with cheese making, it is akin to apples transmogrifying into apple butter. According to my big book of etymology, curd as a noun possibly derives from an old English verb crudan meaning to drive. Rose Levy Beranbaum fills in some history by stating Lemon Curd was familiar to colonists who were used to a product in England called lemon cheese or lemon butter.

Equally as obtuse as the word's origins are the recipes for lemon curd. There is not a standardized recipe and technique for making Lemon Curd. Some authors recommend all yolks, some direct the use of whole eggs. Book-to-book there is disparity in the amounts of juice, eggs, sugar and butter that recipes call for. The great Shirley Corriher advises using a double boiler – placing a bowl over a pan of boiling water allowing for better temperature control - to make curd. While Pastry Chefs Beranbaum and Bo Friberg instruct cooks and readers to throw everything in a pan, place over a burner and strain out any of the bigger pieces.

I tend to side with the down and dirty practitioners, here is my quick recipe –

4 whole eggs
½ cup of sugar
1 and 1/4 cups lemon juice
zest of 3 lemons

3 oz.of butter, 3/4 of a stick

Whisk everything together and place in a stainless steel pan over medium heat on the stove - Once the sugar and eggs are combined, you must keep stirring until the mixture thickens (the sugar will 'scorch' the eggs and the eggs will scramble if not kept in constant motion). You can pronounce it curd when you can pull a spoon through the pan and the spoon leaves permanent trails or wakes behind.

Pour the mixture trough a strainer into a bowl and stir in butter a tablespoon at a time. The whole process can be sped up by warming the eggs in a bowl of hot tap water for a couple minutes.

Let cool and refrigerate – It will keep months in a clean container.

Fill tarts with curd, stuff in crepes with blueberries, serve it over French toast in lieu of syrup or dollop it on scones or biscuits. Sandwich the curd between 2 thin butter cookies and dust with powdered sugar. Mix lemon curd with chantilly (sweetened whip cream) and serve with whole strawberries.

Weekend Schmaltz

A few people emailed in response to this post. The consensus and expressed opinion was - chicken skin is “eww” and separately a reader contended that fat in general and the schmaltz in particular is, well, also [implied] eww.

Okay, don’t have a Tofurkey. That isn’t sarcasm – literally don’t have a Tofurkey. Okay maybe a little bit of sarcasm.

Chicken skin is good. It isn’t a big jump from Thanksgiving Turkey and the beautiful brown crisp skin (hopefully) to the occasional crispy skin from fried chicken or roasted chicken. Plus if you eat poultry derivatives like chicken sausage, turkey bacon the previously mentioned nuggets with or without the ‘Mc’, you are eating chicken skin. Perhaps it is better not to know some things, ignorance being bliss and all, but seriously if you are going to eat chicken, enjoy the good parts.

Secondly, fat is good. It tastes delicious; exhibit A – butter, case closed. Fat satisfies, and your body and brain need fat to thrive. There is a strong case currently being made that maybe, possibly fat substitutes are worse for the body than actual fat. There is a good deal of preliminary evidence including this gem that maybe the way body processes food is more complex than a count your calories weight control system.

Besides the difference of the 90 some calories between a 4 oz. portion of boneless skinless chicken breast and a similar sized dark meat with skin left on is not the cause of what is sometimes called the obesity epidemic. Extrapolated, that 90 calories works out to about 21,000 calories over the course of the year – each body pound is approximately 3,500 calories of stored energy – worse case scenario that only explains 6 extra pounds on a person’s body.

If I were fatphobic, I would worry about the 148 calories per ounce of ranch dressing that people dip the boneless skinless chicken in to make it taste like something, but mostly I would be concerned about sedentary lifestyles. Watching TV lowers a metabolism to the point where laying on the couch and reading a book seems like a vigorous workout by comparison. Snark aside, 100 years ago people burned calories working agricultural or industrial jobs. A little over 50 years ago at the advent of the car culture, people walked a little more often, just sayin. I’m not a nutritionist, public health official or a medical practitioner but I don’t think weight gain boils down to the consumption of schmaltz.

Schmaltz Elixir

For years I avoided chicken. The aversion began with a catering gig - One week my sole job was to prepare chicken breast. 10 to 12 hours a day for 4 days straight, I would unpack, rinse, sear on grill, bake in oven and then place boneless skinless chicken on a plate. The smell troubled with me for a long time after that, not the scent of chicken cooking, rather the odor of raw chicken was an appetite suppressant for about dozen years. During that period I didn't/couldn't/wouldn't distinguish the fowl/foul homophone. Then, when I wasn’t cooking for a living and started to enjoy eating in a way I was never able to as a food professional, I started inching back towards the chicken dinner.

I still have a way to go: Since 1970 per capita chicken consumption has doubled in the US, now the average resident in the states eats 60.4 pounds annually. From one perspective, Americans eat is twice as much chicken as bananas. From a non-fruitarian viewpoint, that is 5 pounds per month, the near equivalent to one modern chicken, meaning your statistical family of four eats a chicken dinner every week with a couple sandwiches thrown in. Someone is eating over 40 pounds of chicken a year for me. When poultry is cooked in the Saucykitchen™ it is always the same preparation – Salted, roasted over sliced potatoes and at a hot, some might say super-hot temperature until the skin is a crispy wonder and the potatoes are saturated with chicken fat.

Truth be told, I'm happy munching on crispy chicken skin and potatoes embedded with fat, which is somehow less socially acceptable than...let's say chicken nuggets and fries? (Funny thing, most nuggets use chicken skin as a binding agent despite assurances of containing ‘All White Meat’ - which somehow doesn’t seem to include the breading on the outside.) Schmaltz isn’t supposed to be hip, but by the time the fat renders downward, it is really something to tell people about.

The crispy skin/fatty potato recipe first came to my attention on America’s Test Kitchen, successfully recreated in the Saucykitchen™, it has become a kitchen chestnut. After a couple tries, I began substituting chicken legs for the whole bird – it is cheaper and um, not such a fan of the white meat, though the dogs were happy enough getting my least favorite part. Amazingly weeks later in San Francisco, there was a truck featuring well-brined, crisp skinned chicken with potatoes sitting under the rotisserie catching all the chicken fat. Temped, by the sight and smell, I broke my long held rule never to eat chicken from any establishment that had wheels under it and was not disappointed. BTW – the name of this magical rolling wonderland is called roliroti.

There are a couple keys to getting the skin extra crisp is a hot oven (425-475) and drying the skin of well, really, really well. For more info you can check out Chris Kimball and et al’s nearly fool proof recipe at their website (subscription required). Or check out the wonderfully cranky Barbara Kafka, her book Roasting contains a similar technique.

I have some chicken to attend to and then a little later after things cool down, I have a pan to wipe clean with a piece of bread, like I said I don’t do this often but when I do, I make it count.

It's a Crock

What about making red beans in a Crock-Pot, can you throw the rice in there too? Mr. Farty Poo Poo


With that signature, I am surprised you didn't ask about the gas inducing side effect of beans. Truth is, I don’t know all that much about Crock-Pots - Maybe it is because I have never bought into contention slow and steady wins the race – I would give odds to Aesop on that bet. It could be that slow-cookers a.k.a. Crock-Pots entered into an unholy alliance with Canned Cream of Mushroom Soup and now I just avoid them both. Mostly, I have never used a Crock-Pot because I generally don’t think about cooking until I am hungry and slow cooking requires a modicum of planning and foresight.

Still, all the kids are crazy about slowfood and theoretically the crock-pot seems like a perfect vehicle to prepare a leisurely dinner, especially the type of bean-centric one-pot cooking, which comforts as only a meal can. So, we borrowed a crock for Saucyman Labs and went to work.

Slow-cookers, Crock-Pot is the brand name of cookers manufactured and marketed by the Rival Corporation, operate with an electric element heating an insert usually made of stoneware or ceramic to a consistent temperature. There is a warming/holding setting that keeps foods at least 145ºƒ (Food safety range) and depending on the model, feature one or two settings for cooking foods - usually operating between 175ºƒ and 200ºƒ.

200ºƒ isn’t all that hot - Crock-Pots are the opposite of a sautéing or woking, where a thin piece of highly conductive metal sits directly on a heat source - when uncooked food is added to the pan, the pan's temperature recovers rapidly. The low temperature of the crock means if you add anything at room temp or from the fridge, it will literally take hours for the crock to return to its operating temperature.

Rice has rather peculiar needs, the grain contains two starches called amylose and amylopectin. These starches are the reason you can’t prepare rice or beans solely by soaking them in water until they soften, they need to be heated to internal temperatures between 140ºƒ and 160ºƒ before the starch gelatinizes and becomes edible. Amylose, the dominant starch of short grain sushi-style rice requires a done temperature close to 160ºƒ.

It takes time to get room temperature rice and tap water to its happy starch- gelatinizing place in a slow-cooker. How long? All three of my tests took 2 hours to cook rice, one batch was still a bit crunchy. The upside is that because water stays below its evaporation point, the crock uses less liquid about 1 part rice to 1 1/4 parts liquid (1 to 2 is the normal ratio).

Because of the long recovery time of slow cookers, many recipes recommend bringing rice to a boil, microwave or stove, before adding it to the crock. I found it was less frustrating to cook the rice separately than try to time its completion with the beans.

So, short answer yes you can but it is easier to cook them seperately.

Two Great Tastes That...Don't Go Together

Saucyman - I do not fully comprehend the "no cheese" tradition on seafood pasta dishes. This prohibition does not seem to be dairy based. Many Italian seafood preparations use abundant butter or cream. What's going on? Formaggi e pesce

I too have heard this ban repeated many times in my life but have never had the why adequately explained to me. This week, The Sunday Times addressed this dietary taboo here.

The article’s two main points – custom and the more understandable belief that strong cheeses can overwhelm the subtle flavor of fish are the very two reasons I would proffer as well. The former would be cited with both a certain contempt and an understanding never to underestimate the power of a centuries old ritual, practice or even habit. The latter would be more of a guideline not an ironclad rule, like a corporate policy as opposed to a constitutional law.



Quick, To The Bookshelf

Rather than just accept the anti cheese/fish enjoinment, I decided to see if I could find specific reasons why the two are so Romeo and Juliet; forbidden love on a plate. After browsing 10 Cookbooks (both regional and Americanized recipes), 2 comprehensive guides to Italian food & wine, 1 Catholic Encyclopedia and 2 guidebooks designed to make traveling in Italy easier, I got nothin’.

I was able to form some alternate theories on why the cheese-fish ban exists: The most practical explanation is the two items have been historically separated. The hard cheeses typically grated on top of pasta dishes are from the mountains – rugged terrain geographically isolated from the sea. Although Parmesan is hearty enough to travel, odds are the catch of the day was not taking the inland trip until recently.

Abstinence Education

The rules for Lent and sanctioned fasting have changed over the last 2000 years. Not being, in descending order: A Catholic scholar, a practicing Catholic or a fan of Dan Brown, I have few resources to check beyond a single volume heavy on the hagiography and popery but lite on dietary edicts, still it is possible that cheese and fish are kept apart because of some Levitician type of influence beyond my ken. Logically it seems that type of biblical prohibition would have had a greater impact on prosciutto than how fish is consumed.

Not to be overlooked, there just aren’t too many recipes for cheese and fish. Casual browsing only turned up one recipe for seafood with cheese – Pellegrino Artusi’s century old Science in the Kitchen and the Art of Eating Well, contained a recipe for scallops with grated parm melted on top. Anna Del Conte failed to cite a specific dish. Ms. Hazan had nothing to say on the subject in her classic Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking -I didn’t see cheese listed as an ingredient in any of the recipes while casually browsing the fish chapter. Waverly Root’s The Food of Italy did not express any preparations nor did I find (or remember any) in books by the sage Angelo Pellegrini – which doesn’t mean it isn’t located somewhere in the 1000s of pages of text.

Italians aren't the only people who avoid the two foods together - Here, beyond canned tuna (casserole or tuna melt) there aren't too many dishes that call for cheese and fish together. The Cuisine of the British Isles avoids combining the two foods and no one would blink if there were 3 ounces of cheddar melted on top of an order of fish and chips. It is possible the Italians who are to food as architects are to things, are only more adamant in expressing about what is tasteful and what is perceived to be crass at the table.

To School, for COOL

Saucyman responds to second part of the question: How can you tell if food is seasonal or if it is flown halfway around the world?

By the Country of Origin Label or known by the acronym, COOL. Not all foods are equally COOL though: Most raw food needs be COOL(ly) labeled, while processed foods or those made with imported ingredients do not. Vietnamese Peanuts, yes – Peanut Butter made in the US of Vietnamese peanuts, no. Imported Pork needs to be stickered with COOL but currently foreign raised chicken is not required to inform consumers of where its from (The new Farm Bill looks to clarify some rules). Beef was slated to have a COOL label but hamburger is/was excluded. Imported shrimp needs to ID’d but according to the Food and Drug Administration, a frozen Shrimp Quiche using those same imported shrimp does not need to be COOL.

Clear?

Me neither, why some foods and not others? According to a Consumer Reports survey 92% of respondents want more information on where there food comes from, so why don’t we have tighter regulations?

The answer is the usual combination of a less than participatory democracy (When is the last time you contacted a representative and told them you were concerned with where your food came from?), and powerful industry representatives. Big Retailers oppose regulation as a rule and groups like The Beef Association, who are powerful and crazed enough to do things like sue Oprah, don’t cotton to being told what to do.

Occasionally, you will find specific COOL regulations when it is deemed to help a specific industry. Alaska salmon is so labeled because it is believed the designation adds value to the product. On the opposite end of the spectrum, Vietnamese Catfish was required to carry a COOL because self-proclaimed FreeMarketeer, Sen. Trent Lott of Mississippi became worried that imported fish labeled as Delta Catfish was confusing consumers who might not want to be risk getting Agent Orange entering their diet: Marking the first time Sen. Lott had publicly spoken out against the adverse effects of the Chemical Bombing of Vietnam – not to mention the imports undercutting the price of constituent raised Catfish, nope wouldn’t want to mention that.

In fairness, industry representatives defend their position by claiming consumers are more worried more about grocery bills than what is COOL(ed). With an (industry) estimated $340 Billion implementation cost over 36 months for labeling programs there are concerns with rising food prices, now might not be the time for new superintendence - but industry never favors more oversight. Non-industry sources place the cost of adopting COOL standards at about $16,000 per grocery store, per year, for 3 years, divided 50,000 unique items in inventory, the cost quickly becomes negligible.

For those with a little more libertarian bend who look beyond the government for solutions, the net effect might be paying more anyway. Retailers such as Whole Food’s are great about voluntary COOL programs. In the wake of questions about food safety, Trader Joe’s responded to shopper’s concerns by eliminating Chinese products from their stores and have generally been better about COOL designations. Food Producers like Newman’s Own Brand voluntarily denote where food comes from on their labels. Each of these examples offers a pricier choice but accurate information costs more.