Butter Explosion
Hyperbole is used far too much in food writing. How many times have you read about a “flavor explosion” or something that “explodes in your mouth”? There are a host of products on supermarket shelves that promise such explosions, too. Some of what food manufacturers are able to do with science is remarkable.
Right now I’m thinking of those pretzels that recreate the mouthfeel of a juicy Buffalo wing. But even when I wrote about those I didn’t say they exploded with flavor.
For better or for worse, I take words very seriously. I think words matter. So when I tell you something is a butter explosion, you better believe it’s a butter explosion. Some of you might be thinking today’s post is about Chicken Kiev. That would be understandable, but that’s more like a burst of butter.
I want to tell you about a butter explosion.
Deflowering Organic Bread
Given how much I love bread, how much it moves me, you would think that I would have taken up baking. For me, it’s not the process, but the results. And I’m more than happy to pay whatever premium or go to whatever lengths I must to find the breads that fulfill my desires.
It’s not always easy, but I do enjoy the hunt.
In New York I found Heidelberg 100% whole wheat bread, which is made from just four ingredients. It’s perfect for my morning toast or as the base of a savory bread pudding. But in New Jersey the best I could find was at Whole Foods.
There is a Whole Foods Hearth Bread called the Organic Whole Wheat Boule. It’s not bad. It’s round, which makes portion sizes a bit tricky, but I can live with that. And it has over twice the number of ingredients of my beloved Heidelberg. That’s not a deal breaker either. Yes, it’s a little pricey, but that’s to be expected.
What wasn’t expected is what the bakery clerk told me when I asked to have it sliced.
The Cost of Values
To avoid confusion let’s get one thing out of the way. Today’s post is not about the ratio of price to quality. Yes, that kind of value is important to me and a critical part to how I think about food and its evaluation.
But there are other values that are equally important. Integrity is a big one.
I’ve been thinking about this a bit in the wake of my back and forth with Chipotle on the issue of its soda fountains. The brand values its integrity. And it does have an amazing track record of improving its food, creating a market for more sustainably raised meats, and bringing more and more local and regional farms into its system.
Values can be an important tool to help anyone chart a desired path. However, I would argue that one’s true values only reveal themselves after they’ve been tested. When values come at a cost, then they prove to be truly values and not merely goals.
Would pulling out the soda fountains at Chipotle come at a financial risk? Surely. But I want to share the story of a different brand that is losing plenty of customers to do what they think is right.
The Alternative to Soda
Yesterday’s position piece about why Chipotle should remove its soda fountains reminded me of something I wrote over two years ago. Pop Culture detailed the very real effects of living in a soda culture. And it goes far beyond obesity into much more insidious realms.
So, how do we try to undo the harm done by soda marketers and those who have been complicitly pushing their super-sweetened crap? Demonizing soda doesn’t work. So instead of telling people what not to drink, perhaps it’s time to celebrate a better alternative.
Now, without further ado, it’s time to meet your new favorite beverage. And before you dismiss it on its face, I hope you will hear me out.
A Sticky Point for Chipotle
Chipotle and I go way back. No, I haven’t written about the restaurant for a long time. Mostly because I was concerned that the FLB was becoming little more than a love letter to the restaurant.
For the record, I still think it’s an embarrassment to the restaurant industry as a whole that a fast casual burrito shop can turn out food made from better quality ingredients than most fancy establishments put on a plate costing three times as much.
Granted, there have been some downsides in the restaurant’s growth. I remember when each location made its own food by toasting the spices every morning and braising everything in house. But I understand the need for centralization. Plus the brand’s growth has enabled it to have more of an impact on farming and meat production overall.
“Food with Integrity” has always been a goal. It’s not a destination. The company has been improving the integrity of its ingredients year over year. Moving to more organics, buying from more local farms during the growing season, and increasing the availability of sustainable meat across the country. I was thrilled when it finally brought on soft corn tortillas. And I’m encouraged about its labeling of GMOs and its commitment to getting these ingredients out of its food. The work it has been doing is amazing. Truly. If I were a military man, I might be inclined to salute in the direction of Chipotle HQ in Denver.
There’s just one problem.
Indian Inspiration
Perhaps the thing that excited me most about spending a year at the Institute for Advanced Study was the chance to live in a community of scholars from around the world. I entertained fantasies about hanging out with the other spouses and swapping recipes.
It hasn’t worked out exactly as planned. I did learn all about baba ganoush from our Israeli friends, as well as a proper respect for humus. And now I’m going through more jars of tahini than I had ever dreamed. That’s been fabulous.
Plus, I have signed up for a dosa making class that’s going to be taught by one of the moms from the nursery school later this spring. I love dosas and I’m really curious to see how those are translated to home cooking equipment.
Our downstairs neighbors are also from India, and while I haven’t learned any recipes from them, I’ve gotten something maybe more valuable. Inspiration.
Pi Day Data Dump
One of the great frustrations of modern life seems to be open browser tabs. I know that I’m not the only one who encounters interesting things all the time on Twitter and Facebook. So I click. And sometimes I read, but sometimes I save stories for later and leave the tab open. It’s also possible that I leave the tab open after I’ve read a story because I’d like to respond to it or find some way of working it into a blog post.
But at the end of the week I’m left staring at a browser full of open tabs.
The FLB continues to evolve. Maybe one day it will be the kind of repository where I’ll casually throw up links to these kinds of stories whenever they cross my radar. But for now, I am still adhering to one unique story per day, with precious few exceptions.
So what to do with all those tabs? Well, some may still make it into stories of their own. But today I would like to share with you a handful of the things that I’ll probably never get around to writing more about. Trust me, it’s a better alternative than a post on what to eat for Pi Day or which drinks to avoid on St. Patrick’s Day.
What follows should be plenty of reading to keep you busy through the weekend.
Cooking Pho a Cause
Guest post by Otis Maxwell
[Note from the Profussor: Once again I am thrilled to report that despite being on sabbatical from the Capital Region that yet another reader of the FUSSYlittleBLOG volunteered to stand-in as a correspondent and cover a local restaurant story of note. Today we hear from Otis Maxwell of Burnt My Fingers, and he is a man who knows his pho. I’ve sat down to eat with him several times, and I trust his judgement. Getting his perspective on the below was a real score. Enjoy.]
Pho, the national soup of Vietnam, is popular in many urban areas but has been embraced rather timidly by restaurants in the Capital District. The key to good pho is a robust and aggressively flavored stock: for the beef version, the more meat the better, including bones. The finished product is served with noodles and yet more beef, and often tripe and tendon, and presented with accompanying herbs, bean sprouts, lime, chilis and sauces to be added at the diner’s preference.
Linh Sullins, who emigrated from South Vietnam as an infant, learned cooking from her mother and seems to be taking pho in the right direction. Her base is made with brisket, flank steak, oxtail and marrow bones and she properly chars her onion and ginger. The stock, provided on its own at a tasting this week in Ballston Spa, was as intense and flavor-balanced as anything I’ve had outside of California or Texas, two states with large Vietnamese populations.
From Local Farms When Available
It’s rare to receive a handwritten letter. Checkbooks feel like they are going extinct as our society transitions to electronic payments. And more and more point of sale transactions just simply require the swipe of a card.
Has anyone ever asked, “What will become of the signature?”
Everyone has one. Whether yours is neatly formed or a stylistic scribble, with a few strokes of a pen, you can create something that represents you, and only you, on a page. And it never changes. Once it’s yours it is yours forever. Some people take this a step further. There was that TV talk show host who had her signature red framed glasses. Some have suggested that I have a signature laugh, but in reality that’s not entirely unique. I laugh exactly like my father. It’s weird.
Maybe there are chefs who don’t want to have a signature dish, but one gets ascribed to them anyway. In some cases it may be like a rock band that has a breakout hit and is then condemned to play it over and over again for the next forty years. I can imagine it being a real mixed blessing. But would Paul Prudhomme be the man he is today without blackened redfish? And Wolfgang Puck has done so much, but history will remember him as the guy who put smoked salmon on a pizza in Los Angeles.
Why are we talking about this? Because it is the one exception I will tolerate for what follows.
Raw Meat
Meat is marvelous. Meat is also murder. There’s no way around it. If you eat animal protein, something has to die for your pleasure and nutrition. Okay, maybe that’s not entirely true. Stone crabs just get one of their claws is ripped off their bodies. The injured crustacean is sent back into the depths to try and fend for itself albeit under more challenging circumstances.
But technically, the poor creature doesn’t have to die.
Honestly, I’m okay with all of this. To an extent. I have no qualms about putting a lobster into a pot of boiling water, but I wouldn’t want to be responsible for slaughtering a cow, pig, or a lamb myself. Mammals are a little too close to home, but I might be able to dispatch a bird. I imagine the first one is always the hardest.
While I have no interest in actually slaughtering my own chickens, I can see many ways how it can be a beneficial experience. From evaluating whether the bird you eat is healthy and happy, to making sure it died in as a humane and respectful way as possible, to creating a greater appreciation for the resulting meat and giblets. The alternative is the chicken grabber.
Have you ever seen the chicken grabber? It’s mesmerizing.
Read more…
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