No Sleep Til Princeton
This has been an August like no other. At the end of July, we packed up all of our things and left Albany. Some came with us, the rest was put into storage.
I got to pretend to be a trucker, as I drove the U-Haul out to the farm in Pennsylvania which would be our base of operations for the month. We went to the lake near the farm and rented paddle boats. I spent the better part of a week in East Hampton. My family even got me to the beach once. We got to experience a Waterfire in Providence, and stay a delightful few days at my mother’s studio there. There were lobster rolls and full belly clams too. Oddly I also ate a lot of tres leches in Rhode Island too.
I drove right past New Haven without any pizza, but saw my Aunt N and Cousin A for a short impromptu visit in Connecticut. There was one night in New York City which included a stop at Joe’s Shanghai for soup dumplings.
But those travels had to end as we were called back to the farm for a family reunion of sorts. My father-in-law’s aunt was turning 99, and it was quite a party. And there were all those Pennsylvania things to do, like drinking Pennsylvanian beer, eating frozen custard, and enjoying farm fresh eggs. The local peaches, backyard tomatoes, and meat from the nearby butcher were all highlights too.
I had hoped to get a few days in Brooklyn this month, but those went by the wayside. Instead I did get to catch up with a very old friend at her new house in Virginia. On the way I got to drive through West Virginia for the first time in my life. That trip also marked the first time I’ve ever seen a bald eagle nest – it was gigantic. In Virginia we caught some rays by the pool, soaked up a little culture, and enjoyed some fabulous home cooked meals from a great chef who has moved on to other professional horizons. Talking food with chefs, even former chefs, is always a good time.
Just last night we had an early family celebration for Young Master Fussy’s birthday. He discovered a love for pulled pork in East Hampton, thanks to Chef W. And we’ve been slumming it in Pennsylvania with a local version of the form. But that with bread salad and everyone’s new favorite bacon corn saute made for a great end of summer soiree.
So what’s next?
ISO Real Crusty Bread
This may be hard to believe, but sometimes I get a little bit obsessed with a food project.
There’s a problem on the farm. We’ve got too many amazing, delicious homegrown tomatoes. I know, cry me a river. But the problem is slicing them up and eating them with Sicilian olive oil, sea salt, and Mandy Aftel’s black pepper perfume isn’t keeping up with the harvest. Neither is snacking on thick slices of tomato on buttered toast. And while these nightshades go great with local poached eggs, there are only so many eggs that I can eat in a week.
Sure, we could simmer the tomatoes down into a sauce or otherwise try to preserve them. But the priority here is trying to enjoy the largest quantity of fresh garden tomatoes as possible. Right now. Of course there’s a secondary problem too. Being in rural PA has its limits when it comes to getting complementary ingredients.
Could I even assemble a panzanella without learning how to bake my own bread first?
AskTP – Bread for Tomatoes
I’m having a terrible time finding real bread in this part of the country. I want something with crust and chew. I want a wild and yeasty crumb that’s full of holes to help soak up all those precious tomato juices.
One of these days I’ll learn how to make the good stuff. And maybe I’ll travel with some starter wherever I go, so I’ll never have to go without.
The good news is that at least I’ve got more amazing garden tomatoes than I can possibly eat. And it’s also fortunate that I traveled to Pennsylvania with some of my favorite sherry vinegar. Last night I ate about two whole tomatoes cut into wedges. Hopefully, you too are eating like summer will soon be a fleeting memory.
By the time the next Ask the Profussor rolls around I’ll already be in Paris. That’s just nuts. Between then and now I’ve got to repack, move to New Jersey, unpack, get the kids started in school, have a birthday party, celebrate the Jewish new year and pack for France. Oy. I don’t want to think about that now.
So, without further ado, onto the questions.
Happy Sauce
Egg yolks make me happy. Good, rich golden yolks. Those pale yellow flabby ones on most supermarket shelves don’t do much for me.
Here on the farm I’ve been enjoying a lot of gorgeous poached eggs paired with fat slices of home grown summer tomatoes. The kids have been getting egg-in-the-hole-in-the-bread, and it’s always a magical moment when they pierce the egg white in the center to be rewarded with an eruption of golden molten yolk.
Life is pretty good.
One of the most gorgeous things I’ve seen egg yolks do, has nothing to do with breakfast, and everything to do with a simple, but elegant dessert. Seriously, anyone can make it. This dish requires precious few ingredients, but will make you look like a rockstar in the kitchen.
The only hard part is figuring out which pronunciation you want to use.
Conflicts and Resolutions
Truly, I hope this is the last I have to write about my interactions with Michelle Hines Abram. But you know how I feel about questions. Even though the following was left on Facebook and not in the comments section of the FLB, I feel compelled to answer. It came from chef Rachel Mabb, whose Facebook page says she’s the “Head Cheffie Chef” at The Ruck. For what it’s worth, she gave me her permission to answer it publicly on the blog.
Also, there’s one other thing that I need to clear up. Unfortunately, I see no other way to do so than to break a rule I had established about quotes and attribution. More on that soon.
But first let’s get to the questions. In response to the post An Unhealthy Level of Boosterism, chef Mabb wrote:
Why so malicious? Gastronomy is supposed to be about enjoyment and conviviality- not criticism. I think this post was very childish, and does nothing to give me reason to read what you write. I don’t care that your knickers are in a twist over some allusion that was made in some other blog that may or may not be about you. I just see bitterness and grudging. You seem to be making yourself irrelevant in the arena of gastronomical comment. This may not bother you, since you think the “food scene” here garners little respect for anything. Which begs the question, why are you so interested in chiming in anyway? Haven’t you moved to Princeton yet?
Honestly, I’m glad she asked. I would much rather those who disagree with me voice their concerns directly so I have the chance to address them constructively. Especially in this case, since it would appear as if my position on a few things has been misunderstood.
The Comment Too Hot for MHA
Well, that went better than expected. Given what I perceived as Michelle Hines Abram‘s relative position in the community, I had been steeling myself for a hefty amount of blowback from my stance against her local boosterism.
But that never happened. Instead, the story got passed around on Facebook and Twitter. There were a significant amount of comments in support of my argument on multiple platforms. And plenty of them included sentiments from people (and even chefs) who felt the same way. Plus an astounding number of folks went over to check out MHA Innovations for themselves.
But it’s not all roses. Michelle has since defriended me on Facebook and deleted all of her tweets from our exchange yesterday afternoon. Before shutting me out, she wrote on her facebook page that her post had nothing to do with me or the FLB.
You can read over what I wrote yesterday and judge for yourself, but I give no credence to her claim. Actually, I find it insulting.
On top of it all Michelle still never published the comment I left on her blog in the first place (nor do I expect her to in the future). She claims she was busy, yet other comments still went through. Holding back comments is a dangerous game for bloggers. Perhaps she should stick to events and leave the writing to the writers.
Anyway, I thought you all would be interested in seeing what set off this tempest in a teapot.
An Unhealthy Level of Boosterism
Three months ago I did something naughty. Maybe you happened to catch the post, and maybe you didn’t. But I’m going to quickly rehash the important bit that got buried in the story about The Capital Region’s Good Side.
Here’s what I wrote [bold added for emphasis]:
The Capital Region is filled with what can sometimes be an unhealthy level of boosterism. One local food blog boasts the following on its masthead: “The Capital Region has a tremendous culinary scene, while at the same time, we are rich with sommeliers and even a smattering of mixologists. That needs to be recognized, appreciated and celebrated.“ No. It doesn’t. It’s improving. But one of the reasons Albany has a bad reputation for food is that far too many places over-promise and under-deliver.
I stand by this statement, and continue to believe that this kind of irrational enthusiasm–largely from restaurant industry insiders–is a big part of the problem.
The naughty part was that I passive aggressively called out a local blogger, without any links back, or any attempt to alert the author of the snipe. For those who didn’t Google it, the quote comes from MHA Innovations and its founder Michelle Hines Abram.
Well, turnabout is fair play. To be fair, the latest post on MHA Innovations doesn’t call me or the FLB out by name either, but it’s not hard to connect the dots. So my passive aggressive days are done. Now it’s time to settle this thing.
The Joy of Travel
Traveling is hard. As of today, I’ve been on the road for about three weeks. But I’m in the home stretch. This weekend I’ll head to Virginia, and when I return there will only be a few more days on the farm before we take up residence in Princeton.
On the road you don’t get to sleep in your own bed. You don’t have the same level of privacy. You fall out of your daily routines. Even everyday pleasures like a simple home cooked meal become rare treats.
People have lots of different reasons for traveling. But regardless of whether you are traveling for pleasure, work, or family, more than ever there are culinary joys that can only be experienced on the road.
Red
Guilty confession. I love Swedish Fish. So they are packed full of GMOs, artificial flavors, and yellow #5. In such limited quantities, these things are neither going to kill me, nor is my one pack per year really going to prop up the industrial food system I despise.
It is funny how they have to add yellow #6, yellow #5 and blue #1 to red #40 in order to get the hallmark red that is the Swedish Fish. Although I imagine that I’d be just as happy if the candy were purely red #40 without any further coloring.
Surely there is some treatise on the power of red when it comes to stimulating human desire. I don’t know anything about that. What I do know is that the Fussy Little Kids had somehow etched into their minds that they wanted to throw a birthday party for Mrs. Fussy and have everything be red.
And the idea of beets hadn’t crossed their mind.
Summer’s Endgame
Everything is happening earlier this year. Stores were filled with back to school gear in July. I hear reports that pumpkin beer is already on the shelf. And here in Pennsylvania there are already leaves on the ground.
It’s mid August. This is crazy.
But maybe in some ways it’s okay, because a lot of stuff is going to be earlier this year. Well, at least if you are Jewish. As impossible as it may seem, Chanukah is going to fall on Thanksgiving. So at least when the Christmas displays go up around Halloween, instead of feeling obscenely early, it will be a welcome reminder to start the holiday shopping.
All of that aside, that nip in the air foretells fall. Summer is coming to an end. If I had a CSA, perhaps I would already start to see this in the weekly shares. But sometimes it takes the plants to catch up a little bit. There are often still decent tomatoes to be had in September.
If you don’t embrace the last of summer now, the next one is a long time coming. So here are a few thoughts.
FUSSYlittleBLOG 