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Archive for January, 2007


Celebrity’s Pasta Lover’s Cookbook

Wednesday, January 31st, 2007

Yesterday in a jetlag haze, I turned on the television. On a certain morning program a certain host was discussing insomnia and in the same breath joked that watching "c-span" might serve as a possible cure. It struck me as pretty funny that even daytime TV has staked out its place in the pecking order. Ok, I can hear them saying, we might not be primetime but we're better than c-span!

In addition to tips on skin care, a recap of the Miss America contest and Oscar fashions (now you know why you don't watch daytime TV) was a segment with Mario Batali and Kristin Davis promoting a free pasta cookbook that is also a fundraiser for America's Second Harvest. Hold the phone! I take back all the mean things I said about daytime TV!

I love Mario Batali, I love pasta and I passionately believe in the work of America's Second Harvest. Believe it or not, I'm pretty big on Barilla pasta too. In Italy it was the "house brand" with my family and so it is for me most days.

I checked out the cookbook and found it filled with celebrity recipes that have been "tweaked" by Mario Batali and Giada De Laurentis. The recipes look terrific, and why wouldn't they be? But better yet, by downloading a copy of it, for free, Barilla will donate a $1 to America's Second Harvest and you can even specify your own local food bank if you so desire. Nice. A definite win, win, win. Go get your copy. And stay away from morning TV, unless of course it's Sesame Street.

post written by Amy Sherman

posted by Wendy Goodfriend | posted in books | 1 Comment

Coriander Cream, or, A Flavor You Would Not Expect To Be Tasty Sweet

Monday, January 29th, 2007

When I'm in the kitchen I like to think about individual ingredients and their personalities. If this peach were a person what would she be like? Would she be my friend or would she be so famous she'd have nothing to do with the likes of me? How would you approach Swiss meringue if she were alone at a bar? Would you be daunted by her smooth sexiness? Or would you blush at her purring demure voice?

What's the first word that comes to mind when I say coriander?

Bold? Famous? Dashing? Shy? Awkward? Cavalier?

Can you describe what coriander tastes like? All alone, on its own?

If coriander was a musician it might be a base player in a good-looking band. It might not have a lot of stage presence but it would have a quiet following of smart girls. Bohemian. After the show it would smoke some all-natural cigarettes. Coriander, in fact, would probably take the time to roll its own little cigarettes, leaning back in its signature black turtleneck, nodding its floppy haired head.

Of course I'm talking about dried coriander. What we Californians call cilantro is another story, a whole other personality altogether. A livelier fellow indeed!

Because coriander is rarely found as a singled out flavor, but mostly as a back up singer or an under layer in an oil painting, its flavor profile is difficult to distinguish. We add ground coriander to Moroccan dishes where a number of spices are used to build a sauce. It is a necessary ingredient in most curries. A building-block spice. It makes other spices taste deeper, sweeter, more themselves. But because coriander is often used with cumin, cinnamon and other strong spice personalities, finding the soul of this back seat spice is one for a dedicated culinary detective.

On a recent menu I designed I wanted to create an apple dessert that didn't taste like all the apple desserts I see and eat. Omitting cinnamon is the first way to set a sweet apple concoction apart. But apples do like being sidled up next to spices. Cooking apples in caramel is lovely, but sauteing apples in rosemary caramel is exquisite. The first time I tasted coriander in a dessert was almost 15 years ago at 231 Ellsworth when Phil Ogiela was their pastry chef. My mouth had a coriander tapioca epiphany and it is possible I was never the same afterwards. Ever after since I tried to find ways to incorporate the oft forgotten coriander into desserts I created.

Because there are few who do not like whipped cream with a warm apple dessert, I created Coriander Chantilly to both satisfy this comforting pairing, but also to introduce the coriander-as-sweet cynical to its delightful singular self.

Think it strange? What will you do with this bizarre recipe?

Give coriander, the background flavor, a chance to surprise you with its malleability, its chamelionesque-ness, its warm, sweet, subtly spicy personality. Ask this seeming wallflower to dance, I promise you will not be wasting your time, or your newly polished shoes.

CORIANDER CREAM

2 Tablespoons Coriander Seeds
2 C Heavy Cream, not ultra pasteurized
1/2 Cup Sugar, or to taste

1. Toast coriander seeds in a small, non-reactive saucepan over very low flame.
2. When toasted, add 1 1/4 cups cream and sugar.
3. When cream is hot to the touch, whisk briefly and shut off heat and steep for one hour.
4. After steeping, turn on heat and get hot again. Do not boil!
5. Starting at a low setting, puree mixture in a blender. At the fastest setting, blend for a full two minutes.
6. Strain through a fine meshed sieve into a bowl with the other 3/4 cup cold cream. Using a spoon, press out as much of the infused cream from the solids as possible.
7. Chill over an ice bath or in the fridge, uncovered until cold to the touch.
8. Whip cream until desired stiffness, or keep as a liquid to pour over, English-style, any dessert you wish to.
Once chilled, coriander cream will keep, refrigerated, in a tightly covered non-reactive container for 10 days or until the date on the cream carton.

Coriander cream would be delicious paired with pears, apples, quince, persimmons, sweet squash preparations, and any desserts made with flaky, buttery pastry like pies, turnovers, crisps, and shortbread.

Enjoy something new and strange and delicious!

posted by Shuna Fish Lydon | posted in recipes | 2 Comments
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"Different things!"

Sunday, January 28th, 2007

In Japan a bargain is 100 yen. Here, it's all about the dollar stores. One of my favorites is Ichiban Kan in the Miyako Mall of San Francisco's Japantown. "Different things!" -- their tagline -- means just that: aisles and aisles of random stuff. All of it for $1. Okay, some things cost $1.50, and the really big ticket items can put you out $2 or more.

But where else can you find stacking pickle containers, universal pot lids, mimikaki ear cleaners complete with tickling tufts, and Hello Kitty toasters that brand her reassuring face into each slice of bread? It's like the Bargain Bank crossed with Containers and More, where the practical rubs shoulders with the utterly unnecessary.

Wander over into the pharmacy section to check out the menthol eye drops, SuperMILD shampoo, and crazy strong Biore strips. Useful gadgets that you never realized you must have can be found in the laundry and office sections. Where I spend the most time (and bucks) is, of course, in the kitchen aisles. Divided into separate displays for food prep, storage and service, this store is one place I've never left empty-handed.

Three locations in the Bay Area serve our little needs and whims:

Ichiban Kan
22 Peace Plaza #540 (aka Geary @ Webster)
San Francisco, CA 94115
(415) 409-0472

98 Third Ave
San Mateo, CA 94401
(650) 347-1347

10562 San Pablo Ave
El Cerrito, CA 94530
(510) 528-5210


Egg forms: Simmer an egg gently for 5 minutes, peel immediately, pop it into one of these cute molds, drop into a bowl of ice water, and -- presto! -- hard-boiled eggs shaped like fish and cars.


Bag clip: How to keep your Thai beef jerky perfectly chewy.


Pretz: Crispy snacks that smell and taste exactly like French toast. Amazing.


Trays: Lots and lots of different colors and sizes.


Napkins: Bright, cheerful and not too thick.


Lunchbox: Stacked airtight compartments, a fork, a stretchy band, and requisite Japanese-style quote: "My name is Mink.It likes reading the book of an adventure.It is excited very good."

posted by Thy Tran | posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments
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My (insert adjective of your choice here) Clementine

Friday, January 26th, 2007

I wandered into the Whole Foods Market on California and Franklin the other day where I was greeted by giant stacks of citrus. The clementines caught my eye, which was quite easily done due to the sheer volume of the little fruits-- boxes upon boxes of them.

I love tangerines, so I grabbed a box. Ideas kept popping into my head as to how I would use them. Sliced up and drizzled with olive oil, tossed with salt and toasted walnuts, made into pudding, squeezed for juice in the morning and, of course, eaten right out of my hand. Vinaigrettes, granitas, dipped in chocolate and crushed salty cashews. I planned on being one busy fellow in the kitchen.

When I got them home, I grabbed one out of the box, peeled off the skin and popped a segment into my mouth. I turned my back to the other surviving clementines, not wanting them to witness the disappointment that had immediately registered on my face. What I had just eaten tasted flabby and rather anemic. Then I remembered something fairly significant in terms of citrus purchasing:

Wasn't there a terrible cold snap a couple of weeks ago?

I went online to look up the what happened to the California citrus harvest this year. Nearly three-quarters of our state's citrus crops were destroyed when temperatures dipped into the 20's about two weeks ago. This year has not been good to citrus farmers. I was, however, glad that I had paid my $7.99 as some sort of support. I then realized that I had given Whole Foods Market my money and wondered how much of that actually went to the farmers. Whatever the answer, I thought I should go and make the best of my clementines.

I grabbed another clementine. It felt heavy in my hand for its size, as all good citrus should. It was sweet and juicy and unyielding. The first fruit I peeled must have been an anomaly. I decided to go ahead with my first recipe.

There is a buttermilk pudding cake I love to make once or twice a year when meyer lemons are good. I thought I might see how one made with clementines would turn out. There is a very good reason the recipe calls for lemons-- they are, by nature, tart and high in acid-- things critical to the success of the recipe. Clementines, on the other hand, are very sweet and low in acidity-- something I chose to ignore when preparing the dessert. I was so intoxicated by the smell of fruit's rind, which I kept scratching with my fingernail, that I thought enough zest would somehow make the alteration in the recipe work. Sadly, I was wrong. Sadly? Not really. I learned something about why certain foods work in specific situations and why others do not. It wasn't a total wash out. Besides, it at least looked good. Remind me to share the lemon recipe with you one of these days.

As I mentioned earlier, I love tangerines. I automatically assumed clementines were a type of tangerine. I was wrong again. While both are members of the Citrus reticulata species, the clementine owes its existence to the cross breeding of the sweet orange and Chinese mandarin and its name to the man who first accidentally bred them at an Algerian orphanage in 1902, Father Clement Rodier. Tangerines, if you hadn't guessed, got their name from the Moroccan port city of Tangiers-- the source of import for most of Europe's supply of the fruit. I suppose citrus growers should be grateful that Pere Clement had a catchy name, otherwise, they might today be growing algerines. Not quite the same market appeal as "clementines", to be certain.

I went back to the market to buy a tangerine so I might taste it side-by-side with a clementine. The clementine tasted dull when compared to the sweet-tart flavor of the tangerine. Tangerines have sass. Clementines are vaguely cloying and given names such as "cutie" or "little darling" and tend shed their clothes too quickly-- possibly the type of fruit appropriate for a one night stand. Tangerines, at least, make me want to come back for more. The fate of the clementine-- at least its role in my life-- was sealed. A few lines of a song made so popular by Huckleberry Hound popped into my head:

How I missed her, How I missed her
How I missed my Clementine
Till I kissed her little sister
And forgot my Clementine.

I'm going back to tangerines. Dreadful sorry, Clementine.

Though not specificallly clementine in nature, the following link is citrus related and made me extremely happy. Check it out if you have nothing better to do. See the opera-singing orange.

posted by Michael Procopio | posted in recipes | 7 Comments
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Speakeasy and Carry a Swizzle Stick: Bourbon & Branch

Thursday, January 25th, 2007

"Hey, how about a quick drink after work tonight?"

"Sure, I'll make the reservation."

Seriously, reservations? For a DRINK? SERIOUSLY? This was my reaction when I first heard about Bourbon & Branch's...unique policy for allowing you to pass through their hallowed doors. However, since I adore what the name imparts -- "branch" refers to branch water, an old-timey term for pure water that spilled from a tiny stream called a "branch," thus the drink "bourbon and branch" means bourbon and water -- I am willing to jump through a few hoops. A few.

I go to make a reservation via their slick website and I'm faced with the normal requests: date, time, number of people, length of time...wait. LENGTH of TIME? I have a drop-down choice of one hour, one and a half hours, and two hours, with a caveat that states if we intend to stay longer than two hours, I should please contact their "private events request."

Not really that accustomed to or thrilled by the idea of being held to a specific time when keeping track of said time renders the enjoyment of lingering over a good cocktail and good company pointless, I bristled a bit. Then I put me and my date down for a full two hours.

This kind of snobbish stuff really gets to me. For months I avoided this bar on Divisadero because they had a list of rules on the door, which included things like "If you have found us, do not tell others." On the other hand, I appreciated the "We only serve nice people" rule. But it bugged me that they didn't seem to have a name, like they were just amping up the exclusivity. One night my husband and I broke down and went to Bar 821 -- which we refer to this day as "The No Name Bar" -- and had a great time sipping Champagne cocktails and Belgian beers with an extremely friendly, down-to-earth, and not at all snooty bartender.

So, having taken you through that down that shady sidetrack, you can well imagine my reaction when I sent my reservation, waited breathlessly while the Wide, Wide World of Web churned and decided whether or not to accept me as a person, and then got this notice: "We have a set of house rules." Oh, lord -- SERIOUSLY?

We are located at the corner of Jones and Ofarrell Streets, under the Anti-Prohibition League Sign. Ring the door buzzer for our host or hostess, we look forward to serving you.

The password for the door : [hey, get your own reservation!]

You will be asked for this after ringing the doorbell.

You can modify or delete your reservation here
If you have any questions contact us by email or call 415.346.1735

* 1. Please Speak-Easy.
* 2. No name-dropping.
* 3. Patience is appreciated.
* 4. No cell phone use.
* 5. Don't even think of asking for a "Cosmo."
* 6. Smokers, use back door.
* 7. Please exit Bourbon & Branch briskly and silently.

Okay, I admit it. They had me at "password." It's just like a real Speakeasy of old! I can only hope that when I ring the buzzer, a panel in the door will slide back, and a head full of Brylcreem will demand the password from me.

I will report back on what I ordered, how we were treated, if the drinks came in coffee pots, and whether there was an impromptu raid on the place. If any of the above confuses you, go rent Some Like it Hot instantly.

posted by Stephanie Lucianovic | posted in food and drink | 5 Comments

The World in My Kitchen

Wednesday, January 24th, 2007


The World in My Kitchen is the third installment in a trilogy of memoirs written by food writer Colette Rossant. While it is fine to read without reading the others, you''ll enjoy it even more if you do. I read the first of the books, Apricots on the Nile, years ago and was enchanted with her descriptions of growing up in a wealthy Jewish family in Egypt before the second World War. In the book I could taste the dishes she grew up with and smell the scents of the kitchen. The rest of the books are filled with wonderful stories and escapades, but Apricots on the Nile pulled me in and made me want to know more.

In the second installment, Return to Paris, you get a taste of life in post war France. Rossant's life is never easy, and by the time the book finishes I found myself eager for a happy ending. Because she is always the outsider, she has a keen eye for details whether describing her favorite olive stand or time spent with her girlfriends. All along the way you'll find treasured family recipes which punctuate the chapters and the drama.

The World in My Kitchen is about Rossant's life after she moves to America. This time she is no longer a child or a teenager as she was when she moved to Egypt and then back to France, but a young newlywed. Her story is a collage of scenes from life in New York in the 1950's through until today. The stories are about her family, and her career and include her relationships with many famous food writers and chefs such as Paul Bocuse, Gael Greene, Calvin Trillin and more. She also takes trips to Australia, Africa, China and Japan, and as always food is the focus. So too is Rossant, a charming, funny and spunky personality who just happens to be a consumed with sleuthing out great restaurants, recipes and even specialty ingredients.

posted by Amy Sherman | posted in books | 0 Comments

Marion Cunningham’s The Breakfast Book Buttermilk Pancakes

Tuesday, January 23rd, 2007

"I often ask people what they think of breakfast, and most reply instantly that it is their favorite meal. When pressed to tell what they eat for breakfast, their answers become rather vague. I've decided that they love the idea of breakfast, but they need some good guidance and recipes actually to get them to cook it. Breakfast has remained pure amid all the food trends with their stylish dishes and chic ingredients. The honest simplicity of breakfast is so captivating."

Marion Cunningham wrote these timeless words in the introduction to her simply, and aptly named, The Breakfast Book 20 years ago.

Although I own many cookbooks, this sweet little hardcover is covered with the most flour and butter stains. And, upon opening, it turns immediately to page 112, where the recipe for Buttermilk Pancakes sits, near the beginning of a chapter titled Griddling.

I have fed many a person with this recipe. I've made them with the substitutions Ms. Cunningham suggests, made them plain, and recently taken the liberty of changing their characteristics by moving around some of the ingredient amounts.

The Internet is full of recipes people love. I receive at least 10 emails a week from eggbeater readers looking for recipes for this or that. Sometimes I reply, as gently as I can muster, that to achieve exactly what they're looking for, they may want or need to experiment a bit to get the baked good of their dreams.

I realize few feel comfortable enough with baking in the first place enough to throw caution to the wind and change amounts, methods and substitute. I have two pieces of advice for this:

1. When you make something over and over you will get to know it like you know a friend. Recipes with the fewest amounts of ingredients will allow you to see what the nature of each ingredient does inside said recipe.

2. After you've made something once, experiment slowly. Meaning: increase, decrease or substitute partially, with small amounts here and there. Make notes on your changes so you can indeed get to know what each ingredient does and does not do to your end result.

I have written a number of step-by-step "tutorials"* on a few methods/recipes in order to teach people what ingredients do what when and how. The "why's" rarely appear in cookbooks because few authors can afford to pay for recipe testing, let alone all the extra pages it would take to go into full explanations for each recipe and its corresponding set of ingredients and method.

But back to the pancakes.

What each of likes and needs from a pancake is dependent on who made our first pancake taste and texture impression. For me it was my mother's mother, my Nanny, Eve Gordon, in her colorful Long Island neon pink paisley wallpapered kitchen. The pancakes were small, un-circles, fairly flat, cooked in a generous amount of Breakstone's whipped sweet butter. The mix was Aunt Jemima. So of course, to me, this is what the perfect pancake tastes like.

The first time someone made me pancakes "from scratch" I was almost 20. The Connecticut boy who made them for me shook his head sadly when he found out I didn't know such a thing could be done. And then he placed maple syrup on the table his family had made the winter previous.

Sometimes the best lessons are best learned over the best pancakes and their corresponding sauce.

MARION CUNNINGHAM'S THE BREAKFAST BOOK BUTTERMILK PANCAKES
Adapted by Shuna fish Lydon

1 Cup Buttermilk
2 Large eggs
3 Tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
1 Cup all purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon Kosher salt
1 teaspoon baking soda, sifted

1. Put the buttermilk, eggs and melted butter into a mixing bowl. Whisk to combine thoroughly.
2. In another large bowl whisk together flour, salt and sifted baking soda. Make a "well" in center.
3. Pour the buttermilk mixture into the center of the "well" and stir until combined, but do not over mix-- a few lumps are ok.
4. Heat up a cast iron skillet slowly until medium hot. I place my hand over the surface of the pan, hovering near an inch over the surface. If I feel heat radiating out, it's ready.
5. Melt a small pat of butter in skillet. If the butter immediately browns, turn heat down.
6. Scoop large dollops of batter into prepared pan. Do not crowd pancakes; you will need room to flip them.
7. When bubbles form across the entire surface, flip pancakes. Pancakes should only be flipped once.

I like to heat up my oven and keep a plate inside so that I can place the ready pancakes in there to wait, thereby being able to sit down with the person I'm eating pancakes with. This recipe has made anywhere from 6-8 average sized pancakes, enough for two people with one or two leftover.

If you like a fluffier pancake add 1/4 teaspoon more baking soda. If you want a butterier pancake, add 1 tablespoon more melted butter or decrease the flour to 3/4 Cup. If you like an even flatter pancake than me, add 1/4 Cup more buttermilk or whole milk. If you want your pancake to be sweet before you slather it with maple syrup or your favorite marmalade, add 1 Tablespoon of sugar to the batter.

*If you're looking for more of the hows and whys concerning how certain ingredients behave in baked goods, I have written these tutorials: Pie Dough, Crepes, Dacquoise/Meringue, to name a few. And I will be teaching another set of Baking Fundamental classes starting in the Spring. Email me if you're interested.

Happy Breakfasting!

posted by Shuna Fish Lydon | posted in books, recipes | 6 Comments

Fancy Food Show Update

Monday, January 22nd, 2007

I arrived at the Moscone Center yesterday morning at 7:30. I was, it seemed, the only person in the North Hall who wasn't either sitting quietly in a registration booth or scurrying about with boxes of food, portable gas burners or Chinese musical instruments. Cursing myself for unnecessarily missing an extra half hour of sleep, I approached the Press Registration Booth slowly, not wanting to look over-eager. I found this attitude a difficult one to strike since, being the only non-employee in the building, my mere presence there at that hour betrayed me. The woman at the press station smiled and, as if not to wake me or herself said gently, "Good morning. Why are you here so early?"

"Oh, I thought I'd just beat the crowd." Having said that I then realized that, unless one is a baker of bread or breakfast pastries, food professionals are not typically known for rising early and shining. I thought it best to say nothing more before my already-tenuous claim to a press badge was revoked. I left the building, got some coffee and returned, casually, at 8.01.

Crossing over into the South Hall, I managed to snag a second row seat to hear Eric Schlosser's Keynote speech: Fast Food Nation: The Dark Side of the American Meal. Before his arrival, an ex-nurse warmed up the audience-- at least, those of us lucky to have been within earshot of her-- by condemning those still practicing her former profession. I did my best to not get sucked into conversation with her, looking forward instead to being profoundly depressed by Mr. Schlosser's speech.

Upon arrival, Mr. Schlosser's first action was, in fact, to offer an advance apology for delivering such a depressing talk so early in the morning. In reference to his best-selling book, he said it was not so much fast food that interested him as it was the nation itself.

"Food is the bedrock of society. It defines us as a nation."

"The selling, sourcing, marketing and production of food all have a great impact on the nation," he continued. McDonald's, his primary example, has not only dramatically changed the way America eats, but the way it farms and sources labor. The fast food industrial system is not reliant on the individual-- it seeks uniformity, conformity. "One taste worldwide" is the alarmingly appropriate slogan for McDonald's.

Schlosser continued by explaining the ways in which McDonald's markets itself. One example I found very grim. Noting that brand loyalty can be developed in human beings at as young as two years of age, McDonald's has targeted children in its advertising, assuring itself future generations of loyal customers. Schlosser claims that one in every three toys recieved by a child in this country comes from McDonalds. This information alone was not terribly disturbing, but the studies he cited linking the habitual eating of fast food to childhood obesity (one in three American children is considered at-risk), diabetes and heart disease killed my caffeine buzz.

"Can we market healthy brands to children?" He asked.

From here, Schlosser's talk took a more positive turn. He noted that the fast food culture that had its beginnings in mid-20th-Century southern California is gradually giving way to a more thoughtful way of eating that has its roots in the Bay Area. "People are starting to read labels." People are beginning to care again about what they put into their bodies.

In closing, he commended the Food Show attendees for their efforts at getting healthier, more natural foods out into the marketplace and hoped that, someday, "fancy food won't be considered fancy anymore."

My general sense of culinary doom for this country temporarily soothed, I made my way to the convention floor.

I thought I had prepared myself. Previous attendees offered advice like "Get a game plan" and "Just pace yourself." I now know that one can never be too prepared.

The show lasts three days for a reason- it's huge. Trying to take it all in over the course of one morning and afternoon like I did is like trying to take in all the sights of Western Europe over one holiday weekend. By 3 o'clock, both my belly and my brain were full. How much chocolate, cheese and hot sauce can a one take? I cannot recount everything I saw there, we'd all be in tears, though yours would most likely be shed due to boredom. Instead, I will limit myself to sharing a few highlights-- and low.

I thought a bit of hot chocolate might be a good way to start the day, though the initial sight of what I thought was a booth caught on fire made me want to start for the exit before I'd barely gotten underway.

Over in the Australian foods section, I sampled hot sauces with a man from Redback Chili Products, whose Horrible Haggis's collection of chilli (their spelling) sauces caught my eye. The following label depicts dominatrix nuns whipping a bare Bill Clinton while a cigar smoking Monica Lewinsky looks on. Another sauce label in their collection suggests using their product for testicular massage. I admired their ballsy marketing.

One of the things I enjoyed most about the show was encountering food items I'd never heard of before. My hands-down favorite was the Carica from Chile. The fruit tastes similar to a mango, but with softer, almost pear-like notes. The syrup from the jar would be great for mixing cocktails (attn: Stephanie).

The Yumberry is, as I was told three times in the two minutes I visited the booth, not a lychee nut. The flavor of the juice was good, almost cranberry-like. I was just skeptical of its name. I suspected a Chinese-to-English "sounds-like-a-good-idea" marketing ploy. Being a techno-and- marketing-savvy fruit, it has its own website. You can read the "The Legendary of Yumberry" there at your leisure.

After spending enough time sampling detoxifying fruits and their juices, I came upon a stand that was offering precisely the opposite. I thought a cocktail might take some of the edge off the convention. It (they) didn't. I was disappointed to see mostly Cosmopolitans, the I-lack-any-sort-of-imagination-so-I'll-just order-what-everybody-else-is-ordering cocktail of yesteryear and it's new replacement for America's hopelessly sheep-like drinkers, the mojito. I sampled a bloody mary mix that was so unbelievably salty (and I love salt) that it sent me running back for more Yumberry juice. Remind me never to trust a company that doesn't care about spelling.

One of the last booths I visited was also one one my favorites. Fish-in-a-tube by Mills from Norway. The smoked salmon and mackerel were very tasty and, I would imagine, very good to have on hand. I took some samples and plan on putting one in my medicine cabinet.

My energy sapped, my brain and belly full, I resolved to leave. On my way to the exit, I ran into Pauline, a regular bar patron at my place of employment. In a lovely and much needed-by-me reversal of roles, she offered me a glass of New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc. I thought this was most likely the best way to end my day at the 32nd Annual Fancy Food Show. We chatted for a few minutes until I had finished my wine, I thanked her and then left.

I praise my own ignorance for much of the enjoyment I experienced at the show. Apparently, photography is frowned upon. Surprisingly, only two people asked me not to take photos. I thought it was because their products were so horrible that they were possibly ashamed. Now I know better.

If taking photos is frowned upon, taking product samples is definitely taboo, which is why the FFS only offered conventioneers clear plastic bags. Though completely ignorant of that fact at the time, I am glad I put the bottle of ouzo that a lovely woman from Chios gave me in my messenger bag. Efkharisto for that.

Though, at the moment, I never want to see another bottle of olive oil or new, exciting tea beverage in my life, I understand what a great resource the Fancy Food Show is for everyone involved. The opportunity to sell one's product and make money is there to be certain. So is the chance to spot trends (like the exploding interest in teas), get inspired (though the pina colada flavored cheese straws need some work) and generally connect with the rest of the food world-- and I do mean world. I would happily go again, knowing now what to focus on (trends, ideas) and what to avoid (stop eating so much cheese).

The convention lasts until tomorrow, January 23. Perhaps by then the more seasoned veterans of the show will have exhausted themselves with all the eating and schmoozing and selling and buying. They will go back to their hotel rooms (or, if they are particularly good at schmoozing and selling, someone else's hotel room) sated, finished with the convention and San Francisco for another year. Or should I say two years? The 33rd Annual Winter Fancy Food Show will be hosted in San Diego.


posted by Michael Procopio | posted in Uncategorized | 4 Comments
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Fast Food, Fancy Food

Friday, January 19th, 2007

Every January, food professionals from around the world make their way to San Francisco, lugging jars upon bags upon boxes of fancy food. Yes, "fancy food" is an industry term. Silk-wrapped green tea, sparkling quince jelly, Cryopac poi, vermouth-soaked olives, Spanish ham, Australian wine, pink salt, black salt, gray salt, chocolate with peppercorns and coffee beans with twice the caffeine--it's all there for the tasting.

Over the coming days, well over a thousand exhibitors will settle into the Moscone Center with their colorful displays and their 80,000-odd foods to sample. Long aisles will be dedicated to entire countries, while special stretches will be given over to categories such as What's New, Organic, Gifts and Foodservice. No samples are supposed to leave the floor. Clear bags and lots of uniformed attendants ensure that no one will be able to reverse engineer their competitors' new products, so while it's one of the most fun all-you-can-eat fests out there, it's overwhelming for even the hardened and hard-core. Entire articles have been written on how to tackle the Fancy Food Show: go with a goal, pace yourself, perfect your elevator speech, and for goodness sake, don't forget your business cards.

Although you need to be a professional to snag a badge, the keynote speech this year is open to the public. Eric Schlosser, author of Fast Food Nation, will take to the podium this Sunday morning to talk about the role of the specialty food industry in helping America eat more healthfully. With substantial time promised for Q&A, it should be an interesting conversation between the man who showed us the dark side of the food industry and those who make a profit from our love of all things yummy.

Schlosser is an intelligent, engaging speaker who answers questions thoughtfully and honestly. I once heard him explain why he still eats hamburgers, with Alice "I've Never Eaten at McDonald's" Waters sitting next to him and a hall packed full of Berkeley folks waiting to pounce. He was able to articulate his beefy preferences without false guilt, convoluted excuses or -- most importantly -- self-indulgent self-righteousness.

I imagine the discussion will touch on how small, local businesses can prevail over big bad companies, how quality is more important than quantity, and how -- whew! -- we can still have our organic, locally-produced, whole-wheat cake and eat it too. What Schlosser adds to the more predictable arguments are his sharp, investigative observations and his forthright conclusions. So, whether you've read Fast Food Nation or not, it'll be worth pulling yourself out of bed this weekend. Listening to Schlosser speak is one of the best things we confused eaters can do for our stomachs and our souls.

Exclusive Keynote with Eric Schlosser
at the Winter Fancy Food Show
Sunday, January 21, 2007
8:30 - 10:30 am
Moscone Center
747 Howard Street, San Francisco

Tickets are $40 and can be purchased at the NASFT's page for Educational Programs at the Fancy Food Show.

posted by Thy Tran | posted in Uncategorized | 4 Comments
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The Joy of Cooking

Wednesday, January 17th, 2007


The first cookbook I ever owned was the Joy of Cooking. It had the basic recipes for just about everything I was interested in cooking. I'd come home from shopping and turn to the Joy to see how to cook some vegetable or cut of meat or how to make something I was craving but had never made before like biscuits or macaroni and cheese. In fact, the 1984 edition I have has "the all-purpose cookbook" emblazoned across the front which couldn't have been more accurate.

I grew up in a household that had an earlier edition of the book, and it always seemed quaint and a bit old-fashioned to me. It still does. It certainly has never been where I turned for inspiration. But regardless, I used it for years for things like coffeecake, cranberry relish, roast chicken, candied sweet potatoes and so much more. And I still do.

The thing about the Joy of Cooking is that the format for the recipes is positively the best for anyone learning to cook. You see all the ingredients and the order in which they are used in the recipe at the same time. This may not sound that important, but it's actually crucial. Each step is a technique and glancing at a recipe you can easily determine the difficulty of the recipe based on your own skills. You can see a bunch of recipes here.

The new 75th anniverary edition Joy of Cooking has "4500 recipes for the way we cook now" on the cover. Some people are all up in arms because it has more ethnic "exotic" recipes than before. But the truth is, we have access to many more ingredients now, so the cookbook really functions just the way it always did. It is a cookbook in the truest definition of the word, a book of recipes and cooking directions. It is solid, indispensable and I wouldn't part with my old edition for anything. Do you need the new edition? If you are an accomplished cook and certainly if you have an old edition, then probably not. Athough having worked my way through both books, I found the new version has updated even the techniques found in the older versions. I recently tried the Swedish Meatball recipe and it was great and significantly different from earlier versions. But if you're looking for the right book to give to a new cook, the new version will get them on the right track and keep them cooking for a long time to come.

posted by Amy Sherman | posted in books | 1 Comment

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