Cooking With Ideas

Madderlake Cafe Reborn? Hot Gossip? Cool Gossip?

So, some time ago, a restaurant in upstate NY closed to absolutely no fanfare and to some folks' chagrin and surprise. It was called Madderlake Cafe  (run by Scott and Laura) -- and the sign on the door indicated the restaurant was going to reopen sometime within the next few months elsewhere. I assumed, as did most I know, that the somewhere else would be in our area. And then, a few nights ago, I was checking out who clicked where to get here and lo and behold, I solved the mystery! Madderlake Cafe has become Quarry Ponds Cafe -- in California. The menu has strong similarities. The chef and sommellier are the same. Established in Summer 2009. So: the rebirth of Madderlake, for those who care, is not nearby but in California.  Scott and Laura did surface -- and not in upstate NY! So, if you are traveling somewhere to the northeast of Sacramento. . . you can find again that madcaroni and cheese, this time not with andouille sausage but with Neuske bacon -- and you can also find that cold-weather wonderful shrimp and duck gumbo. (Misspelled on the web menu, the meat with the madcaroni and cheese is really Nueske.)

Here's their former website, indicating they would reopen last summer. And here's the new location! What? No Finger Lakes wines? Not sure. Their wine list on the site is "Coming Soon" as of October 2009.

Anyway, for old times' sake,  here's an interview with them at Cooking with Ideas.

Did you know about this? What's the hot gossip?

Feminism, Food and Humor . . . .

So, here's an old link that you need to see. Trust me. You need to see this. Yes, it is from 2006. But really. Watch this.

Do You Know How to Drink?

(Thanks to mediabistro.com for the picture.) Some years ago, I went to Charlies Trotter's. I had wanted to go there for many years, and finally had a reservation. Unfortunately, I had had such a bad migraine shortly before that that I had ended up in the emergency room. So, I hesitated . . . and did not order the accompanying wine with the chef's dinner. Instead, I go the nonalcoholic option. The first (and only) time I have seen that at a high end dinner -- and the most memorable part of a very very very good dinner even now some years later.

I mention this because the book reviewed here, How to Drink, by Victoria Moore, reminded me of that night. No, Charlie Trotter's is never mentioned in the book. Nor is the option of a nonalcoholic set of drinks to accompany a fine dinner.But this is actually a highly readable, fun and fascinating book. I have a hard time writing negative reviews on this site -- I'll be honest. But, this time I actually think it would have been a mistake to pass up this hard back book and I feel lucky that it came in the mail, I was feeling pretty darn sick and desperate for a read, and . . . this book was fun fun fun. I learned from it, but it is not didactic. It is a tiny bit chatty but not obnoxiously so, unlike too much I have read lately about food. It is attractive physically, but not overburdened by someone's desire to be a great artist. And, it is eclectic without being all-over-the-place. Victoria Moore has taste, let's her readers know what she thinks, and actually knows something. Well, that's surprising these days when like me, way too many of us feel free to share our writing with the world even when it is not very good (and too many publishers have joined in this trend). (Andrews McMeel is not one of those publishers; usually their books are splendidly beautiful and sometimes a bit over the top, This one is more restrained. And I like it. Can you tell?) 

Despite the occasional recipe for stewed chicken or blood orange sorbet (p. 97) or salmon/fennel toasts (p. 109) , the real meat (punny I know) of the book is the discussion of various drinks. She falls for the trend of organizing her thoughts around seasons, but for some reason it works. (And this despite her authorial confidence that everyone who might ever drink also celebrates Christmas. Hmmmm.) Anyway, here are a few worthy tidbits:

1. Did you know that boiling water makes ice cubes more quickly than cold water? True. This fact surprised many and was resisted by many, but according to Moore there are physicists today still trying to figure out why. This entertained me. And, it reminded me of Thomas Kuhn's The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, which perhaps we all should re-read. Don't believe me? Try Moore's book, pages 20-22 or so. Don't think Moore could possibly know? Well, she refers to the New Scientist and perhaps you could check there. 

2. One of the best sentences ever: (from page 59): "The electric filter machine is the antichrist of coffee making." Whether you agree with Moore or not, you must agree this is a dandy sentence.

3. Evaluations of a whole raft of libations, with and without alcohol, as well as recipes for them, including lemongrass infused vodka, moscow mules, (both with alcohol) and chile hot chocolate (which does not). She offers tasting suggestions for nearly everything, has an opinion of which glasses to use (which is not too pretentious and likely accurate, expressing her own surprise that it matters so much but ending up with a reasonably priced, rational solution). Do I care about all those versions of sherry? Possibly not, but I did while I read. Do i want to know the history of gin and its relation to British colonialism (as well as the reasons why what we get in the US is different from what one gets in the UK)? Unsure. Was I tickled? Yes. Do I want to know what white tip tea is? Unsure. But I can confess, for one brief moment, I did know (when I was on page 308) what the difference was between various sorts of Manhattan. . .

Near finally, she does persuade this reader that attending as much to what we drink as foodies do to what they eat is a good idea. She's quite right: a dandy meal can be ruined by the wrong libation -- a corked wine, the absence of tonic with fizz for a gin and tonic, consuming too many and spoiling the cook's delight. . . . For help that is as wonderful as the libations provided those years ago at Charlie Trotter's at much much less expense, try Victoria Moore's How to Drink. 

Don't quite believe my effusiveness? Here's the final paragraph. Do you need to triangulate by looking at other reviews? Try here or here. The latter has a dandy compilation of some of Moore's witticisms. And, if you are profligate enough, try Moore's own site where you can "Ask Victoria." Try this site which has a raft (not literally!) of Moore's articles. Or, just google away.

And when you do, if you google Moore's title, you will find all sorts of odd sites, which focus on how to drink - including this one which provides a visual directions on how to drink a shot of tequila (moore's advice, and I would concur: don't. The only tequila that needs to be drunk in this fashion is bad tequila) and this one which depicts how to drink absinthe. And, if you want to feel the opposite of what Moore desires -- which is that we all think seriously about the many pleasures of not just what we eat but also what we drink, try here. And then, try Moore. really. She's thoughtful, she's smart, and the book is just plain fun.

What Have You Been Reading Lately? Coming Up on A Blog You Know

A few book reviews and more coming up on Cooking with Ideas. What have I been reading?

Victoria Moore's How to Drink looks at everything from brandy to hot chocolate, gin and tonics to tea. . .

Sherrie A. Inness's Secret Ingredients is subtitled Race, Gender, and Class at the Dinner Table and, yes, focuses on. . . 

And one of my favorite authors, Julie Hyzy has a new entry in her White House chef series for more murder mystery delight!

What else? Much much more, right here at Cooking with Ideas!

Confit to Die For -- and No, that is NOT a Murder Mystery Title

Many years ago, I purchased pounds and pounds of duck fat from D'Artagnan with the intention of making duck confit. And no, at the time, the fat did not come in tiny 7 ounce containers. It came in this huge plastic container that makes huge plastic ice cream containers look small. It was so big it did not really fit in my freezer so for a year or so I stored it in my neighbor's freezer. She got tired of that, and I never made the confit, so out that huge amount of fat went, and there went the dollars as well. Not quite literally down the drain, but out. I thought I would never get to confit. And it remains a joke with that neighbor. So much so that I have not confessed that I have finally made confit. Twice. And all because my best inspiration found a confit recipe in the Globe and Mail and, well, I live near the Broad Street Market where I discovered I could get duck legs and chicken legs both cheaply and wonderfully fresh. And. . . so duck and chicken confit it is/was. And here are two (yep, count 'em, two) reports on confit production. The second was more of an adventure than the first, and both turned out swell.

First, though, what is confit, you ask? Well, to me it is duck (and I learned via this recipe chicken as well) cooked for a long slow time in fat. This recipe though cooked it less time at a higher temperature. But yes, there was a lot of fat. (I argue that the fat removes the fat from the duck and chicken itself, thereby creating a lower fat product, but I have no idea if I am making that up. Sounds good, though.) For wikipedia's take on what confit is, click here. For theirt take on duck confit itself, try here. Turns out while googling away, there is a confit bistro right in Camp HIll near Harrisburg. Maybe next visit?

Confit Adventure Number One: When I learned that there was a dandy confit recipe waiting at home, I thought: we can do this. And off I went to the Broad Street Market to see about what I thought would be the hard part: duck legs. Turns out my favorite place at the Market had them. Well, actually, they had ducks and were willing to remove the legs. So, I bought them (very cheaply) and 4 chicken legs as well (both birds had thighs and legs together). And, we obtained (after some adventures) several containers of D'Artagnan duck fat. So, confit it was -- salt and bay leaves and peppercorns and garlic rubbed on to the legs; and 8 hours later, in they went into the oven with loads of duck fat melted over them. Tasty -- very tasty.Not so hard. Not so scarey.

Confit Adventure Number 2: I was confident. Oh so confident. So, off to the Market I went. Alas, augh and *!?!**!*?!! (is that how you spell that?) no duck legs anywhere. Not a single one. Frantically calling around, I eventually reached Olewine's Meat and Cheese Shop. Hurrah! They had them. So, I would bus over on Saturday and get them! And, that Saturday I got up to do various errands and, as promised, a huge snow storm. I was struggling through the snow on errand number two when my phone rang. Olewine's, like half of Harrisburg, was not going to be open than day -- and it was the last day I could get the duck before heading north. Would they wait? A little bit. So, cutting to the chase (and holding off on long-windedness) I ran for the bus, and across Harrisburg it was. I was so pleased that he had called -- and that he had waited -- that he probably is still (more than a month later) wondering what hit him. I left the shop with 8 duck legs and a huge container of (unrendered) duck fat. Then, rather than wait the hour for the bus back, I walked for about 5 blocks and then caught a bus (even though it was not quite the right one) for a bit. Turns out the driver was from upstate NY -- indeed he was from Lodi, New York! After chitchatting about the coincidence (he knew Geneva well), he dropped me off (at a corner not really a bus stop) and I walked the remaining 5 blocks home. BY this time there were multiple inches of snow on the ground. We had established that Harrisburg is just silly about snow and I had learned from him (and the guy from Olewine's -- that people are actually pretty darn nice). I emerged, yes, drenched, but triumphantly hanging on to loads of duck. After refrigerating that, I headed to the market where I got 8 chicken legs. (And some incredible sauerkraut as well as some of what I thought were country ribs, but that is fodder for another tasty tale.)

What next? Back to the apartment with chicken and miscellansous other things. The next part of this adventure actually appeared on the blog before: rendering the duck fat. Turns out there is nothing like rendering a lot of duck fat on a cold very snowy day to a) steam up your windows, b) make your tiny little apartment smell dandy, and c) distract you from worrying that your ride home was risking her life in the interest of homecoming.(Yes, that storm and yes that route from Geneva to Harrisburg.)

And then, the fat rendered and into multiple containers, the chicken and duck packaged up, off to Geneva where eventually the consequences of having doubled the recipe dawned on me. And the wrong choice of a pan. What happened? Well, too much fat, and lots of smoke, and the need to shift the confit from one to another pan in mid-cooking happened. (Note hte passive voice? Trying to let myself off the hook, perhaps?) You should have seen the smoke. It permeated the house and. . . I was swearing. I let my ego get into it when a wiser head said use something bigger in the first place. Yes, the food turned out great (and we both have some preserved for future meals) but. . . . the second time somehow never turns out as well?  Or, to be more truthful, as easy.  On one good note: part of the confit done in a separate pan actually seemed over done; but I have to admit I liked that the best. It was crispy and tasty. The rest is a bit less crispy; though when I warm it up, I shall try to crisp it up as well. It is tasty -- but the goal of crispy and tasty is still out there waiting for me to reach it. 

So: adventures in confit making. I love it. Will I make it again? Yes. Will I try to keep my ego in check? Yes. For my sake and those around me. Will we eventually admit we made confit to the neighbors? Yes!

Oh, and you want the inspirational recipe from the Globe? Here it is, with thanks to the chef and the newspaper clipper of my dreams.

THE CONTEST TO BEAT ALL CONTESTS? BOCUSE D'OR

(Thanks to chezchristine.typepad.com for the picture!) Sometimes I read things just because they are there. And, so, I read a book entitled Knives at Dawn: America's Quest for Culinary Glory at the Legendary Bocuse d'Or Competition by Andrew Friedman. I might have read it anyway, but I was in a hotel by the beach at a professional meeting -- and worse than that, I was sicker than the proverbial dog. For days. In fact, it took me a lot longer to read this book than usual just because I was so sick that reading seemed too much effort. Way too much effort. But I finally finished it. A quick read ordinarily, it does basically do what it's title says: it describes the process by which leading culinary luminaries (e.g., Thomas Keller, Jerome Bocuse (son of legendary chef Paul Bocuse and a leader in the Epcot food world heading up the French restaurant there), and Daniel Boulud) get involved (somewhat too late) in trying to fix some basic problems with America's role in the Bocuse d'Or (such as being extremely underfunded). The book follows a chap from Keller's French Laundry kitchen (Tim Hollingsworth) through the US competition to the 2009 Bocuse d'Or itself. The author tries to give you insight into Hollingsworth's approach to the event, his love for cooking, and his route to the contest. He is now chef de cuisine at the French Laundry.  As a reader, you also get an introduction to the competition culture of Europe, to some gossipy insights into the lives of the Bocuses, and other culinary luminaries. And, a very positive review of the young (female) commis that is the second in the US team.  One of the best things about the book, from my point of view, was the depiction of her work -- and her relationship to both her chef and the food. Her name? Adina Guest. (For three of her recipes, click here.) A graduate of a community college in Hawaii, she's truly depicted as the person to watch out for throughout Friedman's book.

The book pushes back against the culture of Iron Chef and Top Chef with its television based commercial fame in favor of those who the book implies are the "real" artists, hidden well behind the scenes in many of the major (and not so major) restaurants we encounter every day. Rather than hitting the every day demands of clients with requests from the front of the house that chefs must address right away, the Bocuse d'Or is all about planning, and trying and redoing a fish and meat platter well ahead of time. (And, it turns out to also be about figuring out ingredients ahead as well -- something which trips up the 2009 team as the information is nearly impossible to find on the Bocuse d'Or web site.) The push back of trying to link the two cultures of competition is, of course, the fact that a Top Chef win brings one chef to the Bocuse d'Or USA -- click here for more on that topic. And yes, this is all about nationalism: Bocuse d'Or is a competition in France -- but this is all about Americanism. And this despite the fact that while the French do not always win, the Americans have never risen higher than 6th.

All in all, the book was a good way to spend some time, and a reminder that not all competitions are alike.

For another review of the book, click here. For an interview with the author, try here. And, if you've been pulled in to the Bocuse d'Or aura, check these out: Here's the site for the Bocuse d'Or USA, complete with too much music. And here's the wikipedia site on the contest. And here's the press release of the US contestants for 2011 -- including one woman -- from Charlie Trotter's restaurant. I will root for her -- and not just because she's a woman -- Charlie Trotter's is heaven. Anyway, the US competition will be February 6 with the competition in Lyon in 2011. Wonder if it will get press like the soccer or football or. . . . 

And, for those of you above the 49th, here's some material on Canada and the Bocuse d'Or. And yes, Canada's highest is a 4th place -- which is well ahead of the US. Hmmm.

Anyone going to this for real?

Roux the Day

Roux the Day is a murder mystery (well, at least it is a mystery that involves murders) by Peter King, one of the foodie writers I have known the longest. Too many years ago to even know, I first read his book The Gourmet Detective. In the book, the key figure is not really a detective per se. He looks for rare spices, helps figure out substitute ingredients when something becomes unavailable, works on historical menus, etcetera. In this one, alas, her has joined the trend to do punny sort of cutesy titles. Despite that, the book (well, in my case a KINDLE read!) was fun and intriguing. Set in pre-Katrina New Orleans, there was lots about restaurants and foods of New Orleans embedded in the mystery. In fact, the details were a bit didactic, and sometimes overwhelmed the plot. He was endlessly eating out and discussing the menus. When I am distracted from the plot by food-related themes, and I am foodie obsessed, you know the author has kind of over done it. He eats at various well known spots, mentioning many more. Some bits are impossible to believe; even though British, really who does not know what Mardi Gras is? (You? Click here.) And there is a limit to how much a so-called food expert can get away with appearing not to know Cajun versus Lousiana Creole cuisine, for example. 

One theme that runs through the novel is family traditions of restaurants. Another is women chefs and restaurant owners. In the novel there is, for example, an organization of women chefs that works together to try to improve the lot of women in their profession. Hurrah! On the actual role of women chefs around the US try here (for a 2008 article/discussion) or, for those in New Orleans restaurants, click here. Dying to know about the women chef's organization? Try here. The so-called Gourmet Detective visits a whole raft of places owned by women in the mystery -- and describes every meal in detailed (okay, sometimes over wrought) prose. All in all a good reminder of what the range of good food can be in a truly foodie city. 

And yes, I like Peter King's books.And yes, I know how to make a roux and why, perhaps, beyond punny-ness he used this title. A good dark roux is key to many New Orleans foods, not least jambalaya and gumbo. Here's how to make a roux generally. For more Lousiana specific info, click here.

SPOILER ALERT: Of course, New Orleans is not just about eating. It is also about drinking -- and unusual ingredients. No, I am not talking about Hurricanes (an alcoholic drink) but absinthe. Click here if you want to know more than you already do. Or here if the notion of addictive quaffing is up your alley. 

And finally: yes, it was odd to read all this post-Katrina. There is, embedded in this book, written well before the catastrophe, a hint that the levees matter and might fail. Did I only notice that because of when I read it? Am I reminded that the catastrophe wa sand is the worst in American history -- that race, class, region mattered? That our national failure was -- and is an embarrassment? Yes. Not sure if NoLa's back? Check this out -- and still wonder.

For another review of Roux the Day, try here. And, here are a few things that come up when you gooel "roux the day": an article on making roux; a blog entry on roux(ing) the t-day (yep thanksgiving); a piece from Louisiana Life; and a video.

Places I have Eaten Lately: San Diego

So, I have been in San Diego at a longish meeting, where way way too much of the food is bad. How can that be? I am stuck in a hotel not meant for business meetings, and definitely not meant to serve a large-ish number of people dinner. I wrote home and said I had had one of the worst meals ever in my life. For the first time in my life, I may have been too understated. Having said that, I have eaten away from that place a few times including one day at the San Diego Zoo, which was ok -- rice with chicken and a sauce. The zoo was much much more than okay; pandas and elephants and hippos and flamingos. Lions and tigers and bears, oh my! (Here's the panda cam in case you're wondering. And, alas, the polar bear exhibit was closed for renovation.)

Meanwhile, here is a tidbit or two on the other places I have encountered.

Urban Solace -- is a nice place where I heard some great music (though I am having trouble bringing the details to mind!) and ate niman ranch pork belly, w cocoa and beet juice on it and an "herb salad" which involved very very tasty parsley, chives and etcetera. I followed this appetizer with meatloaf made from ground lamb, with figs and pine nuts. The meal was great. The negotiations with colleagues over who owed how much were painful -- not least because we made a huge mistake in the addition and subtraction. The focus on a new version of comfort food was great and helped mitigate the pain -- and for the first time ever I did not get mac and cheese when the opportunity afforded itself. The prices were modest, really, with the meatloaf being about !5.95. Where is it?

Urban Solace

3823 30th Street
San Diego, CA 92104-3609
(619) 295-6464

They have an array of interesting cocktails, wines and beers. And they are the urbanspoonish place with the most votes I have ever reviewed here:

World Famous sounds like a scam. Yes, it is a place on the boardwalk in San Diego (Mission Beach). And yes, apparently it is famous. It is also pretty good (and though I did not really intend to, I went for the half price appetizers and cocktails for happy hour). Pretty darn tasty -- I had seared scallops over potato pancakes (not as gootd as latkes I recently had at home, alas, but pretty ok) and a shrimp taco. I was surprised the shrimp as fried inside the taco. I ordered guacamole too -- needed that snack attack. The food was pretty good, though I was exhausted so I can;t really swear to that in court. What I can say is that the view was absolutely incredible as the sun set over the Pacific. For some reviews, click here. Or go there. Where?

World Famous

Neighborhood: Pacific Beach

711 Pacific Beach Dr
(between Ocean Blvd & Ocean Front Walk)
San Diego, CA 92109

(858) 272-3100

A few other places: Gringo's with the largest (though thankfully not highly alcoholic) margaritas,a not-too-bad shrimp quesadilla, and some good chips and salsa. And, a board walk, outside eating only, joint where I had an avocado omelette one day, complete with black beans and some tasty potatoes, a chocolate chip muffin another day, and every single day I went, a latte with a shot of caramel.  It's name: Seaside Cantina.

And finally, The Eggery -- which looks teeny form the outside, and turns out to be a quite large establishment with very good omelettes. I had one that involved chorizo, chilies, and . . . . is nameOne thing to know: while they look like they'd only have regular coffee (and it comes in a lovely big thermos carafe), they do a very good cappuccino. Best thing? The chorizo and chilies helped my sinuses -- at least temporarily.

Where is the Eggery? 4150 Mission Boulevard, San Diego

Yes, the place I am staying has horrible food. Really, it does. Should I name it? Let me know.

Leftovers OR So Many Cookbooks So Little Time

Today, I had a fascinating conversation with a co-worker about offal. He was raised Greek and I was not -- and so I have never really considered some of the foods whose unpronounceable (for me) names he described, including a soup his aunt makes from tripe and sweetbreads and kidneys and. . . I was the only person hanging around who, well, had a less than offal-filled childhood. I had not killed or helped kills lambs, nor do I now live on a farm or visit my family farm to butcher large animals. I am, I think, a weird combination of lucky and sad not to know these things.

What do I have to contribute? Piles of cookbooks that seem to enter my life through the mail, many wonderful, a few odd and some down right uninteresting. There are so many that I have had to group them over the past while (as you know from December 2009 posts of various sorts), to try to just get the backlog out of here. (Did I have to? No, I guess not. Did I? Yes.)

In any case, I have a few leftover tidbits for today.

From What we eat when we eat alone (by Deborah Madison and Patrick McFarlin): After some discussion of Colette's depiction of eating toast, submerged in coffee, Madison and McFarlin write about the sacramentality (or at least the potential sacramentality of dining). Mmmm. Hmmmm. (See pages 39-40 if and when you buy the book and peraps you too will ask yourself if oyster crackers in coffee is any odder than the sacramentality of turning wine (or grape juice) into someone's blood or wonder bread cubes into. . . .well, you know.) Or, check out their discussion of leftovers, which is a reminder that a) it may be more environmentally friendly to eat them; b) if not, make less; and c) if not at least compost. As Patrick McFarlin says on page 47, "It's one small step for mankind."

And, from tips cooks love (yes, this could be yours if you read the entry about getting more readers for Cooking with Ideas): "Duck has a good amount of fat under its skin" (p. 158). You knew that. I know that. But, it hints at what follows: directions on rendering duck fat, something I did for the first time recently, having acquired a huge (well, several pounds) of unrendered duck fat from Olewine's Meat and Cheese Shop in downtown Harrisburg (via bus in a snow storm)! The guy at the store was miraculously nice -- and it was an utter blast to see that fat turn from solid into a lovely yellowish liquid and eventually it served to confit some duck legs acquired at the same place and some chicken legs from the Broad Street Market. And they said I would never confit anything. Hah. 

Desperate for directions on how to render duck fat? Click here. Or, better yet, find that entry with the contest (right below this!) , get loads of your friends to start reading, and get the book tips cooks love.  It's by Rick Rodgers and the folks at sur la table. And, by the way, yes it is true: duck crackling are an argument for the existence of god (or at least the existence of a cook).

Contest?

I am bemoaning a slight decline in readership and am calling on you for ideas - and help -- in generating more readers. Please circulate the blog address for Cooking with Ideas -- it is http://www.cookingwithideas.typepad.com -- to all your pals, leave notes places telling them to check it out, and help however you can. But, for a tiny bit of incentive, here's a contest: I will send a copy of Sur La Table's Tips Cooks Love to the person who gets me the most new readers! Never heard of the book? Check it out here. Don't want it? Help anyway!

How can I count up the new readers? Have your friends (or utter strangers) add a comment to this entry, using a name for you (it can be your real first name or a pseudonym as long as they are consistent). Once I see how many add comments and mention YOU , I will announce a winner!). Then, the winner will contact me and I will mail out the book. DEADLINE? YES, THERE IS ONE. AND IT IS JANUARY 20.

Easy, right? Helpful, I hope so. SPREAD THE WORD. 

And meanwhile, thanks to weblo.com for the picture!