On a FoodTV program today, I watched a celeb chef make a dish that defies the imagination in both richness and extreme fat and calories. He split a large, buttery croissant, dipped it in an egg-and-cream batter, and fried it French-toast style in butter. It was then filled with a heap of warm carmelized, sugared cinnamon apples and topped generously with powdered sugar.
The chef and chef's admirer licked their fingers while cooing over their divine creation. The camera lovingly captured the dripping confection from several angles through a gauze lens usually reserved for aging film stars. After watching this culinary orgy, I understood the meaning of the phrase "food porn."
Send emails to me at DeborahWhite@UniqueRecipes.com.
Tuesday, September 30, 2003
Sunday, September 28, 2003
Perspective
None of us remembers my sister's husband wearing a tie and jacket during the past twenty years. None of us ever remembers him entering a church. He is a homebody who hates to travel. He rarely shops for anything.
He wore a tie and jacket yesterday, and attended my daughter's wedding in a church 450 miles from his home. He was unhappy with my sister's choice of a wedding gift, so he went shopping and bought something special just from him. He felt strangled by the tie and jacket though, and changed into casual clothes before the reception. He didn't socialize much. He must have been the only married man present with his own separate gift for the newlyweds.
A few shook their heads and chuckled that he can be relied on to be difficult and different. He has no regard for protocol.
I guess it depends on your perspective. Ron and I are grateful for the love and respect he showed for his niece and the occasion by getting outside his comfort zone to be there for her.
Send emails to me at DeborahWhite@UniqueRecipes.com.
He wore a tie and jacket yesterday, and attended my daughter's wedding in a church 450 miles from his home. He was unhappy with my sister's choice of a wedding gift, so he went shopping and bought something special just from him. He felt strangled by the tie and jacket though, and changed into casual clothes before the reception. He didn't socialize much. He must have been the only married man present with his own separate gift for the newlyweds.
A few shook their heads and chuckled that he can be relied on to be difficult and different. He has no regard for protocol.
I guess it depends on your perspective. Ron and I are grateful for the love and respect he showed for his niece and the occasion by getting outside his comfort zone to be there for her.
Send emails to me at DeborahWhite@UniqueRecipes.com.
Wednesday, September 24, 2003
Salsa and Sin
The tomatillo salsa (Sept 19) was excellent...lively, citrusy and refreshing, spicy but not too. When my alchemy was done, the salsa was made of ten tomatillos, finely diced; two medium onions, chopped; one bunch of cilantro; two tablespoons or so of chopped garlic; canola oil; a teaspoon of Tabasco; and a fair amount of McCormick's lemon pepper. It was almost addictive served with tortilla strips heated nacho-style with monterey jack cheese and Mexican crema. My recipe is similar to one on page 200 in "Savor the Southwest" by Barbara Pool Fenzl, except that she adds a serrano chili and olive oil, rather than the lighter canola.
Yesterday, I heard that an ice-breaker question at a mens' church fellowship breakfast was "What are your three favorite sins?" (Happily, I didn't hear any of the responses!) The question intrigues me.....the vulnerability and honesty needed to answer it in a public forum (or at all) ; the meaning of favorite; the "safe harbor" trust of that group to enable the question to be asked and answered. The question causes me to more closely examine my definition of sin. Hey buddy, this question is very personal!
If in Nevada and with time on my hands, I do like to play the quarter slot machines. That last happened two or three years ago in Las Vegas. Slot machines are so odd: they are just machinery and blinking lights and big piggy banks for the casinos. We all know that. Yet something happens after fifteen minutes of pulling the arm of a one-armed bandit. A feeling takes over, a weird high of hope and persistence and of, well, greed. You absolutely feel that your fortune is one pull away and that all your financial worries will be solved forever. Fortunately, I can walk away. Also, my husband loiters around me bored if slot-machine fever hits, and makes impatient gestures once I've dropped $40 or $50. Slot machine fever is a sin.
My sometimes over-the-top maternal pride can appear to others as sin, I guess. I honestly believe that my two daughters, son and stepson are marvelous, unrepeatable miracles, and as sappy and phony as this sounds, I never get over being humbled at the gift of being their mother. (I can bore people for hours with tales of my kids, much the way my parents did with slides from their trips to Hawaii. We all thought we might die if we saw another slide of tropical flowers.) Over the years, a few have personalized my maternal pride to mean that I am saying something negative about their children, in comparison. That has never, ever been in my heart or mind. There must be sin in this. I need to think about it more.
Favorite secret food sin....banana pecan pancakes at IHOP. And today, tomatillo salsa.
Send emails to me at DeborahWhite@UniqueRecipes.com.
Yesterday, I heard that an ice-breaker question at a mens' church fellowship breakfast was "What are your three favorite sins?" (Happily, I didn't hear any of the responses!) The question intrigues me.....the vulnerability and honesty needed to answer it in a public forum (or at all) ; the meaning of favorite; the "safe harbor" trust of that group to enable the question to be asked and answered. The question causes me to more closely examine my definition of sin. Hey buddy, this question is very personal!
If in Nevada and with time on my hands, I do like to play the quarter slot machines. That last happened two or three years ago in Las Vegas. Slot machines are so odd: they are just machinery and blinking lights and big piggy banks for the casinos. We all know that. Yet something happens after fifteen minutes of pulling the arm of a one-armed bandit. A feeling takes over, a weird high of hope and persistence and of, well, greed. You absolutely feel that your fortune is one pull away and that all your financial worries will be solved forever. Fortunately, I can walk away. Also, my husband loiters around me bored if slot-machine fever hits, and makes impatient gestures once I've dropped $40 or $50. Slot machine fever is a sin.
My sometimes over-the-top maternal pride can appear to others as sin, I guess. I honestly believe that my two daughters, son and stepson are marvelous, unrepeatable miracles, and as sappy and phony as this sounds, I never get over being humbled at the gift of being their mother. (I can bore people for hours with tales of my kids, much the way my parents did with slides from their trips to Hawaii. We all thought we might die if we saw another slide of tropical flowers.) Over the years, a few have personalized my maternal pride to mean that I am saying something negative about their children, in comparison. That has never, ever been in my heart or mind. There must be sin in this. I need to think about it more.
Favorite secret food sin....banana pecan pancakes at IHOP. And today, tomatillo salsa.
Send emails to me at DeborahWhite@UniqueRecipes.com.
Sunday, September 21, 2003
My New Title
My 26 year old daughter is getting married soon to a great and wonderful guy. They will be adding the new roles and responsibilities of husband and wife to their busy lives. They have been engaged for eleven months, yet it just dawned on me today that I, too, will be taking on new responsibilities. I will possess that most maligned and dreaded title, mother-in-law.
I recently saw a TV commercial hawking a particular internet service. The spot featured a thirty-something wife asking her husband why he hadn't told her about the twenty emails her mother sent, asking to come visit them. He feigned innocence, and even showed her his in-box with no emails from Mom. Seems that, unbeknownst to his wife, he had turned on a handy feature that blocked Mom's emails.
OK...making a nuisance out of myself to the newlyweds might not be a super idea, nor, apparently, would moving in for a few weeks be welcomed with open arms. But I can't help myself: I feel compelled to give advice to my beloved daughter as she starts her new life. Listed below is what I have so far. Please email me soon with suggestions...the wedding is only six days away, and I have a role to live up to.
1. Choose to be kind to each other, even when you don't feel like it.
2. Worship and pray together.
3. Don't let your job take all your time and energies. Save the best for home.
4. Set aside specific time to spend together each week. Sunday afternoon works well for many pre-child couples.
5. Share a passion together...be it music, mountain biking or cooking.
6. Appreciate and compliment.
7. One word: lingerie.
8. Separate bathrooms, if at all possible. Trust me on this.
9. Smile. God is good.
10. Again, worship and pray together.
God bless you both.
Send emails to me at DeborahWhite@UniqueRecipes.com.
I recently saw a TV commercial hawking a particular internet service. The spot featured a thirty-something wife asking her husband why he hadn't told her about the twenty emails her mother sent, asking to come visit them. He feigned innocence, and even showed her his in-box with no emails from Mom. Seems that, unbeknownst to his wife, he had turned on a handy feature that blocked Mom's emails.
OK...making a nuisance out of myself to the newlyweds might not be a super idea, nor, apparently, would moving in for a few weeks be welcomed with open arms. But I can't help myself: I feel compelled to give advice to my beloved daughter as she starts her new life. Listed below is what I have so far. Please email me soon with suggestions...the wedding is only six days away, and I have a role to live up to.
1. Choose to be kind to each other, even when you don't feel like it.
2. Worship and pray together.
3. Don't let your job take all your time and energies. Save the best for home.
4. Set aside specific time to spend together each week. Sunday afternoon works well for many pre-child couples.
5. Share a passion together...be it music, mountain biking or cooking.
6. Appreciate and compliment.
7. One word: lingerie.
8. Separate bathrooms, if at all possible. Trust me on this.
9. Smile. God is good.
10. Again, worship and pray together.
God bless you both.
Send emails to me at DeborahWhite@UniqueRecipes.com.
Friday, September 19, 2003
Food Crimes
The price of pecans is a food crime. Check filet mignon. It might be less expensive.
The hidden fat in supermarket chicken. Consumers think they are buying a low-fat, low-calorie entree, but look more closely and you will see the hunks of fat. It is disgusting. On thighs, breasts and "best of the fryer," it is on the bottom and underneath the edges of the skin. For whole chickens, it is mainly along the edges of the open cavity and especially the other end. Take about fifteen minutes to cut this fat away. Your chicken will taste much better and be far healthier.
Lunchables. Enough said.
Any sugared cereal that causes kids to think they are eating cookies, candy or dessert for breakfast.
Bologna. (See Lunchables, above.)
Send emails to me at DeborahWhite@UniqueRecipes.com.
The hidden fat in supermarket chicken. Consumers think they are buying a low-fat, low-calorie entree, but look more closely and you will see the hunks of fat. It is disgusting. On thighs, breasts and "best of the fryer," it is on the bottom and underneath the edges of the skin. For whole chickens, it is mainly along the edges of the open cavity and especially the other end. Take about fifteen minutes to cut this fat away. Your chicken will taste much better and be far healthier.
Lunchables. Enough said.
Any sugared cereal that causes kids to think they are eating cookies, candy or dessert for breakfast.
Bologna. (See Lunchables, above.)
Send emails to me at DeborahWhite@UniqueRecipes.com.
Indian Summer Produce and Freedom
Indian summer produce is zesty and plump in late September, so I couldn't resist browsing in a local Mexican market again. With my purchases, I plan to create a fresh tomatillo salsa this weekend from fragrant cilantro, perfectly ripe tomatillos, onions, fresh lime juice and a couple secret ingredients. Also planning to make one of my signature salads of sliced roma tomatoes and cucumbers, mozzarella cheese and key lime viniagrette to pair with roast beef for Sunday family dinner.
There is freedom in eating healthy with this type of protein and veggie emphasis. It tastes delicious and refreshing, is satisfying, and best of all, our cholestral counts have never been better. Mine is now 151, Ron's is down to 195, and our other blood tests were equally positive. Now about the weight....working on that. Like always. Honest. I am. Really. :)
But there is nothing appealing or sexy about a food writer talking health. It doesn't sell books or newspapers unless it makes false or sensational promises. It reminds people of their shortcomings. It isn't fun or energizing or even very hopeful. Writing about healthy cooking commits the unpardonable publishing sin....it is boring.
Too bad because cooked simply and well, the tastes I mentioned here, for instance, are vibrant and delightful and the dishes are satisfying. It just takes a little imagination, a few extra minutes, and love for your family.
Send emails to me at DeborahWhite@UniqueRecipes.com.
There is freedom in eating healthy with this type of protein and veggie emphasis. It tastes delicious and refreshing, is satisfying, and best of all, our cholestral counts have never been better. Mine is now 151, Ron's is down to 195, and our other blood tests were equally positive. Now about the weight....working on that. Like always. Honest. I am. Really. :)
But there is nothing appealing or sexy about a food writer talking health. It doesn't sell books or newspapers unless it makes false or sensational promises. It reminds people of their shortcomings. It isn't fun or energizing or even very hopeful. Writing about healthy cooking commits the unpardonable publishing sin....it is boring.
Too bad because cooked simply and well, the tastes I mentioned here, for instance, are vibrant and delightful and the dishes are satisfying. It just takes a little imagination, a few extra minutes, and love for your family.
Send emails to me at DeborahWhite@UniqueRecipes.com.
Tuesday, September 16, 2003
Delicious Failure
No cookbook on fudge has been published in the US for twelve years, and now I know why. Back then, fudge was still made using fussy, complex methods concocted by our grandmothers. Their recipes demanded elaborate and time-consuming techniques, and involved precise temperatures and professional thermometers, perfect weather conditions, sinks of ice, special pans, unused wooden spoons and hours of patience.
Absolutely no one, these days, has the time or patience or even experience to successfully master many of the old-fashioned fudge recipes. My fudge cookbook-in-progress uses scrumptious, time-saving ingredients that did not exist in grandma's time, and infuses fudge with new flavors and trends from the Starbucks decade.
However...here comes the "but"....grandma had some darned good recipes, and I should include a few in the book. You need to know that I am a competent long-time cook, intuitive and creative, experienced enough to turn near disasters into culinary triumphs. I have now tackled three old-style fudge recipes, and not one has been 100% successful. One yielded vanilla walnut fudge soup, excellent as a dip for cold apple slices.(Diagnosis- too much humidity for it to correctly set.) Another resulted in delicious buttery Kahlua caramels. (Diagnosis-too much ice immersion and too quickly, causing it to set too firmly. The opposite of the vanilla walnut fudge soup problem.) This week, I made latte fudge, using cream, expresso, organic cinnamon and good quality vanilla. The taste was extraordinary, but it...did...not...set...again!!! I cheated this time...stuck it in the the refrig after a day of unrequited anticipation, and it finally set to my satisfaction, but the uber-cold caused the texture to become grainy.
Is there a message here? I don't know. Maybe. I taught my youngest that the keys to success include persistence, patience and humility.
I now have the humility, at least. And a new respect for my grandmother.
Send emails to me at DeborahWhite@UniqueRecipes.com.
Absolutely no one, these days, has the time or patience or even experience to successfully master many of the old-fashioned fudge recipes. My fudge cookbook-in-progress uses scrumptious, time-saving ingredients that did not exist in grandma's time, and infuses fudge with new flavors and trends from the Starbucks decade.
However...here comes the "but"....grandma had some darned good recipes, and I should include a few in the book. You need to know that I am a competent long-time cook, intuitive and creative, experienced enough to turn near disasters into culinary triumphs. I have now tackled three old-style fudge recipes, and not one has been 100% successful. One yielded vanilla walnut fudge soup, excellent as a dip for cold apple slices.(Diagnosis- too much humidity for it to correctly set.) Another resulted in delicious buttery Kahlua caramels. (Diagnosis-too much ice immersion and too quickly, causing it to set too firmly. The opposite of the vanilla walnut fudge soup problem.) This week, I made latte fudge, using cream, expresso, organic cinnamon and good quality vanilla. The taste was extraordinary, but it...did...not...set...again!!! I cheated this time...stuck it in the the refrig after a day of unrequited anticipation, and it finally set to my satisfaction, but the uber-cold caused the texture to become grainy.
Is there a message here? I don't know. Maybe. I taught my youngest that the keys to success include persistence, patience and humility.
I now have the humility, at least. And a new respect for my grandmother.
Send emails to me at DeborahWhite@UniqueRecipes.com.
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