And we’re back in the saddle, wielding the mighty lance of truth and scientific endeavor against the black knight of stupid dietary fads and quickly greenwashed wool pulled firmly over the eyes of its followers.
When it comes to Sauerkraut, most diners can be easily divided into two camps – those who love it, and those who had Polish sauerkraut in NYC and hated it. The recipe and tips below are for German Sauerkraut, a modest and much tastier variation of the stuff you get on your hot dog, and a great thing to make at home.
Basics
Sauerkraut, like Kimchi (only a distant relation in taste), is produced by pickling (lacto-fermenting) a leafy vegetable in a brine of its own juices and salt. Due to the anaerobic nature of the fermentation process and the natural bacteria thriving in the brine, it’s a safe and healthy food, great for keeping around in a dark and cool corner of the house, ready to be served with a multitude of pork dishes or sausages.
Chemically, Sauerkraut is a little miracle show of its own. Fermentation happens in three stages, each of which produces its own pH range, initially supporting, later killing, the bacteria required for it. It also happens from the “inside”, using bacteria already present on raw cabbage – no additional tools or substances required.
I love Italian food, the subtle differences between Roman and Venetian cuisine, the gradual removal of dairy and introduction of citrus and tomato flavors as one ventures south along the coastal and mountainous regions. Few cuisines gave and owe so much to their neighbors and almost-neighbors, from Turkish and Greek influences in the south to Austro-Hungarian and German voices in the north (but don’t tell an Italian chef, a quick beating might ensue).
Which is why, much more so than most any other cuisine, I take sloppy work to heart.
One of the beautiful moments my membership in certain trade associations affords me, is to sit right next to representatives of companies I wholeheartedly dislike, listening to their side of the story. The date is late 2009, and I am taking a food science and nutrition research class, perched between a representative from Kraft Foods and ConAgra Foods. “Honestly,” one says, “we’re really not in the business of making you healthy. That’s a useful side effect. We’re in the business of not making you sick.”
Bridgett, my teacher friend, says the same. “School lunches,” she admits, ” are a bit like McDonalds. Sure, it’s not making you healthier to eat that stuff, but it’s fast, convenient, and it has so many checks and balances we can be sure we won’t get food poisoning from it or eat something other than what they tell us they put in there.” Continue reading »
Jamie Oliver was on TV. He’s starting a “revolution”, he says, and to his credit he’s trying it in Huntington, WV, not in California. And, even more to his credit, Alice Waters isn’t anywhere to be found.
Since the piece aired last night, I’ve had a lot more calls and SMSes than usual. Basically it’s what I’ve been saying for a while, just coming from a more handsome and better connected chef (with a really cute accent, no less). One that isn’t afraid to cry on TV. And one that treats people with respect. After all the hubbub I went and watched it myself. Continue reading »
Got a bottle of schnapps handy? Let’s play my restaurant web site drinking game.
Go to a random restaurant website. Any web site will do. Here’s the rules.
Every time your iPhone gives you a lego block “Flash missing” message take a drink. Then call Steve Jobs and tell him what you think of him.
If music starts playing automatically – take a drink. Take two if the song is some tired stock “your genre here” song. Take another one if there’s no “mute” button or if there’s one but your selection is not memorized between visits.
If there’s a nifty scroller of pictures of food – take a drink. Take two if it’s in Flash.
If there’s no text anywhere on the landing page that shows opening hours and location – take a drink. Take two if there’s none anywhere.
If there’s no phone number on the front page – take a drink.
For any of the following words in the restaurant’s description or “about” page take a drink: seared to perfection, a dream in, French casual, fusion, delectable, eclectic, mouthwatering, seasonal, fresh, gluten free, velvety, succulent, luscious, most wonderful.
Find the menu. If it’s in PDF take a drink. If it’s a JPG or PNG and can’t be indexed by search engines take two drinks. Take three drinks if someone just photographed an open menu and posted that picture.
If the restaurant wants you to become friends on Facebook take a drink. You’re looking for food, not friends. If the restaurant wants you follow it on Twitter take another drink. Then hunt down and beat up a random “social media consultant”. Have a big gulp if the restaurant <iframe>’d their fanpage somewhere.
If there’s more text about the chef than about the food, take a drink.
By now you should be sufficiently liquored up and not drive anywhere. Call for pizza.
We’ve all been there, done that. Come to a new town, on business, pleasure, or for a change of venue, and wondering where to go to get good food. Some people seem to equate “good food” with “pricey”, which isn’t always the case, and tastes are different from person to person (as my current Twitter conversation with @chefjayl somehow shows, he likes Gordon Ramsey’s food while I found portion size and preparation at RGR and Pretrus atrocious). Others head over to Yelp, OpenTable, or Zagat – all great resources as long as one’s own taste is that of the average restaurant-goer.
Instead, I have been relying on a different means of choosing my restaurants. Read on for my top ten of things I try to avoid like the plague…
This post had, at last count, 200+ comments. Then Disqus did something with them, and they all went away. I’ll try to restore them, of course, but please keep commenting (if you feel so inclined) and let me know what you think.
I‘ve spent the past year trying to eke out a niche for myself in an ever-competitive market of food service operations. My work, my livelihood, my income, and that of everyone else working for and with me depends on butts in seats in the front while, in the back, I work hard to create and serve food that does more than just satisfy the hunger.
I fight the mass eateries, I have to compete with other great dining establishments in my area, and I have to be very, very, aware of the power of reviews – online and offline, done by professionals and by diners like you and me alike.
I am a fan of honest reviews. That’s a matter of record, both here and elsewhere. I don’t mind getting slammed for my mistakes, and – unlike certain French chefs I used to know – while I take criticism of my food personal I also try to listen and improve. As Chef Jason pointed out recently, “perfect” isn’t something we reach. It’s something we reach for.
I love being reviewed, either way. Then, of course, there’s Yelp…
Aaah, the scallop. That noble, yet accessible, crustacean core. Easy to sear, season, plate, and enjoy, it’s a quick treat on the plate, a buttery, herbal, taste of the wide ocean.
You had the scallop appetizer at my place, listening to the satisfying crack of its sear under your knife before digging your teeth into a whole new world of happy. Here’s the secret – it’s insanely easy to make at home. If, and that’s important, a few simple rules are followed.
I rarely rely on recipes, except for two things – baking and sausage making. The latter’s more snooty cousin, the world of farcir, forcemeats, terrines, and other concoctions, especially relies on well executed ratios. This Bavarian recipe for Leberkäse is a slight exception – since it is rather simple to make, I invite you to play around and have some fun with it. Continue reading »
Tour De Food
