Ask the Profussor – Answers from PA
It’s time for another round of Ask the Profussor. I love your questions. Even the ones that are difficult and challenging. Perhaps I should say, especially the ones that are difficult and challenging. Just recently I dedicated an entire post to a string of these questions, asking about my credentials for giving advice about wine.
Luckily, I’m staying on top of the questions a bit better than in months past, so this installment will neither have to be a lighting round nor will it run for several thousand words. But there are some great questions here that deserve some answers. Today they will get them.
If you happen to be new around here, every so often I catch up on the unanswered questions that were posted in the comments. As long as you make sure to use a question mark when asking a question, I will make sure it eventually gets answered. That’s my contract with you. Now without further ado, onto the questions.
Fair Food
Summer is a lot of things, not least of which is fair season. Well, unless you grow up in Miami, because then it’s in the spring. Going to a fair in the heat of a Miami summer would be suicide.
The Miami Dade Youth Fair was always one of the highlights of the year; from the time I was seven until I left for college at eighteen. Sure, the midway held plenty of memories, and I always enjoyed the games of skill, but the flavors and smells were an inextricable part of the experience.
Upon walking into the fairgrounds, you were immediately overwhelmed by the smell of corn in their husks roasting over open coals. The leaves were pulled down, and used as a handle, and the ear was lowered into a vat of melted butter. Everyone was walking around with these juicy, greasy, sweet and smoky treats.
Just yesterday, I took the kids to the Bedford County Fair. And while it might not be quite so grand as the fair of my youth, I think the children got a memorable food experience out of the event.
Grandparents
Nana E always had bottles of Dr. Brown’s Cream Soda in the pantry. A visit to Nana S meant I could drink a can from her stash of Dr. Brown’s Black Cherry Soda. Nana E had bowls filled with Hershey’s miniatures. The bowls Nana S would set out were filled with caramel nips.
When it came to visiting the grandparents, each one had their own special treats. But both of them spoiled me rotten.
Nana E tells the story of when I was four and she was delivering me breakfast in bed. Well, not quite bed. I was wrapped up in the softest satin blanket, laying on the couch, watching their color television. So she puts the tray of food down on the coffee table. I look at the bowl of oatmeal. Then I look at her. And I exclaim,
On the Farm
Greetings from Pennsylvania. For the next two weeks I’ll be reporting from my in-laws’ family farm in the south central part of the state. You may recall how I am a bit obsessed with DMA’s. Albany-Schenectady-Troy is just outside of the top 50. Johnstown-Altoona doesn’t make the top 100.
Things are different here.
The family makes two pilgrimages to the farm every year: one in the summer and the other over Christmas. But I’ve never stayed on the farm for such an extended period of time. And it will be interesting to see what kind of effect this has both on me, and my perceptions of Albany upon my return.
Will it seem better than the Albany, feeling much more cosmopolitan than my current country surroundings? Or will I stumble upon great little places even in this little backwater that put the much larger and relatively more affluent Albany to shame?
For starters, let’s chalk one up in the pro Albany camp.
Writing About Wine
Sunday is wine day. Honestly, it’s perpetually been a bit of a challenge. Wine posts never quite seem to capture the same level of attention as stories about cupcakes or coffee. But a while back when I took a hiatus from writing about wine, there were people who noticed and missed my coverage of the topic.
So in some ways it’s a labor of love. I love wine, and I would like other people to love it too. My strategy to accomplish that goal is to demystify the stuff, to take out the snobbery and pretentiousness surrounding the subject. I try to explain what is really important and what isn’t on subjects ranging from appellations to vintages.
Last week when I mentioned that I might be reviewing free samples of wine in the future, I got a very interesting comment from irishj:
Would you tell us please what (other than wanting free wine) qualifies you to review wine? Have you passed even the basic sommelier level exam? Are you studying for your MW? If so, what level? Do you know what an MW is? Have you ever or are you currently working selling wine for a supplier? Have you ever worked in the wine business in any way, say, as a store clerk? Have you traveled to multiple wine regions touring and tasting the local products? Just curious as you are about to potentially affect the sales (on a small scale) of products that many people work very hard to produce…and whose livelihoods depend on those sales. True, you could blog about what YOU like (or don’t like)…but that will be only your very limited perspective and as I am sure you know, everyone’s taste is different.
Naturally, I have some thoughts on this.
Crazy Cooking
Mrs. Fussy has had a profound influence on me over the many years we have spent together. But it goes both ways. I was very proud of her the evening when she noticed the distinctive smell of dish soap on Raf’s wineglasses. She’s no longer just the simple country girl I met and fell in love with all those years ago.
I’ve changed too.
In my bachelor days, when I was cooking for one, I would put leftovers away in the refrigerator. And in the refrigerator they would stay, until they rotted. The same went with odds and ends of ingredients. My refrigerator was a den of decay.
But now, waste has somehow become a vile and loathsome thing. We do not waste food. And while I have plenty of strategies to achieve this at home, ordering 12 banh mi sandwiches with ADS really pushes me to the limit. For the record, he is perfectly fine with waste, and thinks I should be too.
I mention all of this for a few reasons. We are going out of town soon, and thanks to our awesome CSA (which regrettably did not supply us with more huitlacoche this week) we have tons of fresh food in the house that needs to be used. To make matters worse, I just picked up a fresh eight-pound Berkshire pork belly. That is in addition to the rest of the food in the fridge that will be rotten by the time we return.
Something must be done. Luckily, we have a plan.
Nominations for the Tour de Fish Fry
It’s been a long time coming. I know there are people who have been waiting in breathless anticipation for this announcement. So take out a pen and grab your calendars.
The Tour de Fish Fry commences on Saturday, August 13. And it’s going to be a doozey.
For others who may be new around these parts, or have a nasty habit of not reading their daily dose of Fussy, you may have no idea what I’m talking about. Well, every so often I take a bunch of readers around the region to sample back-to-back some of the cherished culinary treasures of the Capital District.
It started with cider donuts in the fall, mini hot dogs in the winter, and soft serve in the spring. Naturally, in summer we should all be eating fried fish. Right?
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