How Not to Live By Eating

From The Custom House, the introduction to The Scarlet Letter.

One point, in which he had vastly the advantage over his four-footed brethren, was his ability to recollect the good dinners which it had made no small portion of the happiness of his life to eat. His gourmandism was a highly agreeable trait; and to hear him talk of roast-meat was as appetizing as a pickle or an oyster. As he possessed no higher attribute, and neither sacrificed nor vitiated any spiritual endowment by devoting all his energies and ingenuities to subserve the delight and profit of his maw, it always pleased and satisfied me to hear him expatiate on fish, poultry, and butcher’s meat, and the most eligible methods of preparing them for the table. His reminiscences of good cheer, however ancient the date of the actual banquet, seemed to bring the savor of pig or turkey under one’s very nostrils. There were flavors on his palate, that had lingered there not less than sixty or seventy years, and were still apparently as fresh as that of the mutton-chop which he had just devoured for his breakfast. I have heard him smack his lips over dinners, every guest at which, except himself, had long been food for worms. It was marvellous to observe how the ghosts of bygone meals were continually rising up before him; not in anger or retribution, but as if grateful for his former appreciation, and seeking to repudiate an endless series of enjoyment, at once shadowy and sensual. A tenderloin of beef, a hind-quarter of veal, a spare-rib of pork, a particular chicken, or a remarkably praiseworthy turkey, which had perhaps adorned his board in the days of the elder Adams, would be remembered; while all the subsequent experience of our race, and all the events that brightened or darkened his individual career, had gone over him with as little permanent effect as the passing breeze. The chief tragic event of the old man’s life, so far as I could judge, was his mishap with a certain goose, which lived and died some twenty or forty years ago; a goose of most promising figure, but which, at table, proved so inveterately tough that the carving-knife would make no impression on its carcases; and it could only be divided with an axe and handsaw.

date lab with grown ups

The guy in last week's Date Lab in the Washington Post Magazine and I were the same year in college. The one specific thing I remember about him was that he wanted to finish undergrad in three years and then go to med school. I do though admire his attitude towards food and wine now though.

I'm Asian, but I wasn't pre-med in college.

a recipe

Earlier today as I downloaded photos I took for Open House New York I baked my first Boston Creme Pie with Ashley. We used Nigella Lawson's How to be a Domestic Goddess, which is the type of cookbook that needs a little self-editing on the part of the person using the recipe. Although our creation turned out well I was a little concerned about the proportions for her ganache and cream recipes. But these issues were rectified with just a slight adjustment.


Two weeks ago I made red velvet cake twice. The first time I misread the recipe (or rather I stopped reading it) and omitted the vinegar and baking soda. The second time everything was fine. But I came up with a nice buttercream frosting the first time around that was repeated for the second, and the measurements I have are probably similar to the type of sketchiness that comes up sometimes in Lawson's books.

Grand Marnier Buttercream
3 and 1/2 to 3 and 3/4 cups confectioner's sugar
3/4 cup softened unsalted butter
1/4 cup softened cream cheese
1 teaspoon Grand Marnier
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 egg yolk
salt to taste

Combine butter and cream cheese until smooth. Add egg, Grand Marnier, vanilla, and salt. Mix until smooth, then gradually add confectioner's sugar.

I'm sure almond extract would work really well also, especially with red velvet cake.

more reading on food

Politics of food.
On beer.
On Rum.
On beer. Again.

ethics + beer

One of these days one of us will get around to writing a real post featuring our food experiments and photos.

In my hometown news a warehouse fire destroyed
4% of this year's crop of domestic hops. When I talked to my parents last night they found it amusing that the fire was notable enough to garner a mention on CNN. But beer should be taken seriously.

Unrelated to food is the fact that my Congressman also happens to be the House Ethics Committee chairman. He also made an impression on CNN with remarks about Dennis Hastert.

Since I more or less believe American regional cooking begins and ends in the South I think I need to try some New Orleans recipes. I used to do a decent jambalaya regularly for a run of three or four months about four years ago, so it's time to go back.

I also want to finally make a Derby Pie that I've been talking about making for two years.

Sundry Food Reading

Some articles I've enjoyed recently on food:
The Global Gourmand by R.W. Apple (NYT)
Eating Out by Jason Epstein (NYRB)
Alcohol Testing by Randall Lane (Slate)

apple

I first became familiar with R.W. Apple through Timothy Crouse's great book about journalists covering the 1972 presidential campaign The Boys on the Bus during college. In recent years I found a different R.W. Apple--the peripatetic omnivore of the Times' Dining section with a straightforward, yet conversational writing style, the man who introduced me (and probably many others) to the existence of the mangosteen.

R.W. Apple, a Times Journalist in Full, Dies at 71