Culinary trends from the last decade

Seemingly everyone is writing about food trends from 2000 to 2009, but I was struck by how much I agreed with the list put forth by the The Food Channel. I've included only their top 10 overall trends here, you can read about their full take on all kinds of trends on their site.

•Cupcakes
This is part of what I personally call the "Decadence in Small Doses Movement." It's a remedy to an ongoing conflict about weight and diet. Sure, cake with frosting is bad, but this is so small, it's just a serving size, right? Hey, it's going to keep me from eating an even-bigger slice of cake, right? And I deserve it. That's how people end up forking over $4 for a cupcake. But NPR recently reported that a large 6.5 ounce "designer" cupcake (from New York's Crumbs Bakery) had 780 calories, 107 grams of carbs and nearly 36 grams of fat. From a dietary standpoint, that's much worse than a Big Mac, which contains 576 calories, 32 grams of fat and 38 grams of carbohydrates.

•Bacon
In the wake of the 9/11 disaster, comfort food took on a major theme in American cuisine, hence the firm interest in all things pork, notably bacon. It got so much attention that it even ended up on pizza and in desserts. It's hard to dismiss the power of pork; I have a jar of Baconnaise in my fridge. I'm so ashamed, but I think that says everything.

•Sliders
It's rare to see a menu these days without sliders. From a production standpoint, any kitchen monkey can produce them. They're fast to get to a table, since even the meat can be pre-cooked and reheated. But the big reason is that they're a good cost point for restaurants. After all, you often pay roughly the same price as a full hamburger, and for about half the protein.

•Gourmet Burgers made with Kobe or Angus Beef
Yes, cried restaurateurs, a new wa y to get diners to pay up to $30 for a hamburger! The most disgusting thing that I ate in the past three years was a Kobe beef burger; both greasy and bland, it left an unpleasant mouth feel that took a full day to get over. As a steak, Kobe beef is tricky to prepare, which is why it often gets ground into hamburger, something that mocks its delicate flavor and texture. Personally, I think this is a huge waste of carefully produced meat.

•Superfruits such as Acai, Pomegranate and Blueberry
Once Oprah says she trusts it, there's no going back. But be warned: don't buy any processed foods (think: blueberry Eggo waffles) with the notion that you're getting any kind of benefit. Most "blueberries" in processed foods are actually dyed pieces of apple.

•Sushi
Amazingly, cold raw fish truly caught on the U.S. in the past decade, to the extent that even my local grocery store has a sushi bar. And that's a problem. Big supermarket chains could care less about sustainable sushi fishing practices, and it's one of the many reasons for over-fishing of tuna.

•Oils, such as olive oils and truffle oils
I'm pleased with this trend. Olive oil is one of my favorite souvenirs from traveling to Italy or Spain, but in the U.S., my favorite supermarket brand is Lucini. But be warned -- most truffle oil is crafted using synthetic thioether, an odorant found in truffles.

•Whole grains, such as polenta, risotto
Thanks to the likes of brands such as Bob's Red Mill and Kashi plus some great press and terrific books on the subject, whole grains seem here to stay.

•Artisan foods, particularly in breads, cheeses and dark chocolates
This is so true that the word "artisan" has become horribly abused. "Artisan" means that it's been hand-crafted by a skilled crafts person. If you buy bread that's been mechanically made in bulk at the central location of your supermarket by a high school dropout earning $8 an hour, it's not "artisan" anymore.

•Coffees, teas
Once Starbucks got everyone used to paying $3 for a cup of coffee, the flood gates opened. Blooming teas and artisan coffeehouses, it all goes hand with the Decadence in Small Doses movement. Hey, I work hard, I deserve to spend $14 a pound on this special whole bean coffee, right? I am fine with $4 for a small pot of rose petal tea.

Go to FoodChannel.com to see their thoughts on the past decade's biggest food influencers, restaurant trends and more.

What I didn't get for Christmas...

Not enough people think of ham as a souvenir from a trip abroad. And really, what's a better souvenir than actual food from the place you've visited? Sure, it violates a whole lot of U.S. importation laws, but who could not wish for a better gift than the Wurstkoffer, a special briefcase-style luggage item to store up to 19 beloved sausage-style items?

Lost: Silver Laptop, Silver

If you happen to be flying from Seattle to Orlando on Alaska Airlines and find a silver VAIO Sony laptop, let me know. Mike and I didn't have seats together on our flight heading home to see my family on Christmas Day. Thanks to all my flying about on book tour stuff, I got bumped to first class and he didn't. Just as we boarded, I took it out of his computer bag, placed it above the seat and forget it there.

I had hoped that his good karma from the flight would wear off on me, too. He was seated in 7F, a window seat. At the last moment, a young Japanese man sat in the middle. In broken English, he asked Mike if he would change seats. "She is my ... partner... friend?" he tried to explain. Mike turned to see a tiny Asian woman bouncing and waving in 13D, wedged between two American women. "First time in America from Japan. Disney World," he explained haltingly. Mike contemplated the six-hour flight time, his window seat, her middle seat. "After takeoff, OK?"

When Mike went back to row 13, the woman next him commented, "You're a better person than me," she said. "The young woman asked me, but I didn't' want to give up my aisle seat." Then, Mike explained that he knew what it meant to sit with your girlfriend or wife, since he wasn't sitting with me, but since I fly so much, I had a higher status on the airline and I'd been bumped. I'd offered him my first class seat, but he had insisted that I take it. She asked what I did that required flying so much and he explained I was an author. "Oh, what does she write?" And he told her about my book. "I read that!! You're MIKE?!" she exclaimed. "You know, in the book, I thought that no one could be as nice as she described you, but you know, you really are that nice! Wow!"

It turns out that her son came to an event that I did at Ciao Thyme in Bellingham, Wash. He read the book, enjoyed it and gave it to her. I met her when we landed in Orlando. Small world, huh?

The Ultimate Gift: How to Cut Up Food Toy

OK, so this is what you give all the children on your holiday list when you're a cooking teacher who has written a book with the word "knife" in the subject line. It's so perfect that I'm speechless. Here's the official product description: "This set contains eight pieces of wooden food, a cutting board and a wooden knife. Food makes a fun “CRUNCH” sound when sliced. With 31 pieces, it’s also a great way to introduce the concepts of part, whole and fractions." And it's just $15 from Amazon.

The 10 Best "Best of 2009" Food Book Lists

It's that wacky time of the year when everyone seems to out their "Top 10s" from the year. It's no different with lists about food books. So here's my own: The Top 10 "Best of 2009" food book lists. The most common entries on all the lists? Momofuko by David Chang, Ad Hoc at Home by Thomas Keller and How to Roast a Lamb by Michael Psilakis. These are listed in no particular order. I selected them based on the site or publications regular reviews and whether I agreed with them or not, and if I understood why they selected the titles, even if I didn't necessarily agree with their conclusions. I was disappointed to see so little literary food writing represented in any of the lists, with the notable exception of Frank Bruni's Born Round.

1. NPR: Top 10 Cookbooks of 2009


2. New York Times 2009 gift guide for cookbooks


3. Publisher's Weekly, the overall list and the food-related titles


4. Eat Me Daily: The Best Cookbooks of 2009


5. Omnivore Books on 7x7 San Francisco


6. Serious Eats
   
7. Amazon.com
   
8. Village Voice
   
9. David Leibowitz
   
10. Epicurious.com

Heading to New York City

Brrrr. It's cold here in Seattle. Time to head for a relatively balmy climate: New York City. Think I'm kidding? It's 22 F here in Seattle right now, and 38 F in New York. Looking forward to some great chow. I'll keep you posted.

Recipe Post-Thanksgiving Turkey Gumbo

Every site has recipes for leftover turkey. This one for turkey gumbo optimizes the entire carcass. I started the tradition back in the mid-1990s when I developed a deep, abiding love for all things cajun and creole following a series of trips to New Orleans. This recipe looks long, but once you've got all the prep done, it's done in an hour or so. Any kind of sausage will work with this, but something with some spicy bite is my favorite.

True gumbo uses a dark roux that smells of lightly roasted coffee. Many purists insist it has to be made on the stove, but that can take an hour or more of careful attention, so I opt for the oven variety. Roux can be made ahead and refrigerated for up to a week or frozen for a month, but take care with its preparation; if it has many black specks, it’s ruined and you need to start over. Also, hot roux is known as “Cajun napalm” for the nasty burns it can cause, so be careful. Also, always use gloves when handling hot chilies; they can burn and irritate eyes and skin. For a deeper flavor, roast the turkey carcass in a 400-degree oven for about 40 minutes until it browns.

Roux
1 cup (250 ml) olive oil
1 ½ cup (375 ml) all purpose flour

Turkey stock

Big turkey carcass, picked clean, meat reserved
1 carrot, quartered
1 large onion, skin intact, quartered

2 stalks celery, chopped

Couple garlic cloves

A bay leave, bunch of thyme leaves, parley stems

For the gumbo
¾ pound raw shrimp, shells reserved

3 quarts brown chicken or turkey stock
Couple tablespoons of olive oil
2 medium onions, chopped, about 3 cups
4 ribs of celery, chopped
2 large carrots, chopped
1 green bell pepper, seeded, chopped
1 pound (500 grams) cooked chicken or turkey, cut bite-sized
1 ½ pounds (750 grams) cooked andouille sausage, sliced
1 28-oz. can peeled, seeded tomatoes
2 Habernero or jalapeno peppers, minced
6 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon dried thyme
couple of bay leaves
3/4 pound (375 grams) okra, thawed if frozen
two fistfuls of fresh parsley, chopped
1 tablespoon gumbo Filé
1 to 2 lemons, juiced
Cayenne pepper or hot sauce, to taste
Hot cooked white or brown rice

Preheat oven to 315°F / 160°C degrees. For the roux, combine olive oil and flour in an ovenproof sauté pan over medium heat. Stir constantly until the roux is light brown with a nutty smell. Put into the oven and let cook undisturbed for the first hour. Then carefully stir every half hour afterward until it’s a dark, almost chocolate brown. This will take from 3 to 5 hours. Set aside and let cool.

While you make the roux, prep some stock by placing the carcass in four quarts of water with the vegetables. Bring just to a boil, then simmer for three or four hours until the roux is ready. Drain, reserving stock.

To start the gumbo, combine the shrimp shells with the stock and simmer while prep everything. Heat 2 tablespoons olive oil in an 8- to 12-quart pot. Cook the onions over medium heat until transluscent, then add the celery, carrots and green pepper. When the vegetables soften, add the chicken, sausage, tomatoes, hot peppers, garlic and thyme. Strain the stock and add. Stir in one-third of the roux until it’s absorbed in the liquid. Keep adding roux a tablespoon at a time until the gumbo reaches the desired thickness. Bring to a simmer and add the okra, parsley and shrimp and filé. Cook until the shrimp are bright pink and the gumbo thickens. Finally, stir in the lemon juice, recheck seasonings and serve over hot rice. Makes a big pot with about 10 or so servings.

Thanksgiving Recipes: How to Bone and Stuff a Whole Turkey

This is post is from 2007, but I share for any of you daring enough to debone an entire turkey - Kat



For those of you who read the book, you know that it ends up with a chapter titled Thanksgiving in Paris. After nearly a year of training to bone virtually every kind of meat, I found myself with a massive turkey from my French butcher that could never possibly fit into our tiny Euro oven. So, on Mike’s advice, I took the bones out of the whole thing and stuff it. That was 2005, and I’ve continued the tradition ever since. Last year, it was for a large group of friends in Seattle. This year I took the Kat-bones-an-entire-turkey show to my in laws in Spokane.

“I don't know, I love a roast turkey,” my mother-in-law said, clearly dubious about the whole endeavor. But it didn’t matter. I took her supermarket turkey out of its bag and went right to work on Wednesday night. First, I cut the breast away from the rest of the turkey, and scraped and cut it away from the breastbone so that it was boneless, yet left the skin intact. Then, I took the bones out of the legs, scraping the meat away from the bone and then cutting it close to the ankle. This way, the leg appears to stay intact, but the cavity was left open for stuffing. All this went into a cider-based brine overnight.

On Thanksgiving morning, I started with the breast, laying it out on the counter and covering it well with layers of plastic wrap. Then, according to the Le Cordon Bleu chefs directives for such activities, Mike took a heavy sauté pan and banged the meat thoroughly so that it was flatter and a more consistent thickness all around. I trimmed off extra bits so that it was as close to an even, squared shape as possible. I spread the wild mushroom stuffing in a layer on the inside of the breast, and then pulled it together into a bundle. From there, I trussed up one side and then wrapped it repeatedly with kitchen string to keep its shape. The legs got stuffed lightly with an apple, celery and Calvados mixture, and then trussed up along one side. At the end, where there was little skin, I sewed into two pieces of lightly smoked bacon. It all went into a 350 degree oven it went, for about an hour and 20 minutes (about 10 minutes per pound), basted every 10 minutes or so with butter and pan drippings.

In this case, I took an extra step and after the breast bundle cooled, I wrapped it into puff pastry.

Once it was all done, we assembled onto a tray. It looked sort of similar to a regular turkey. “Well, isn’t that something?” one of the guests said in quiet understatment.

Wild mushroom stuffing with cognac

3 oz. porcini mushrooms, steeped in 2 cups hot water
4 tablespoons of butter
1 onion, chopped fine1 shallot, chopped fine
4 sprigs fresh thyme, tied together with a bay leaf
1 lb. of mixed fresh wild mushrooms, sliced
¼ cup of white wine
¼ cup of Cognac
2 tablespoons chopped parsley
salt, plenty of cracked pepper
1/4 cup whipping cream

Melt the butter in a pan over medium heat. Add the onions, shallots and thyme and cook until softened. Add the fresh mushrooms and porcini to the pan and stir until they release their liquid and brown slightly. (If they absorb too much butter and the pan gets dry, add enough olive oil to coat.) Add white wine to the pan, scraping the bottom of any browned bits. Add the Cognac and cook for a couple of moments until reduced. Add the parsley, salt and cracked pepper and stir through. Taste to assure its well seasoned. Remove tied thyme leaves. Then, add the bit of cream and stir through. Set aside until cool. Place a layer of the stuffing onto the turkey breast, roll up and truss into a tight package. Roast as you would a regular turkey, basting regularly with butter until a thermometer inserted into the meat registers 160 degrees F. Let rest at least 10 minutes before carving.

Note: I use the liquid from porcini in gravy served with the meat, adding a bit of Cognac toward the very end to further extend the flavor of the stuffing. This is a good basic gravy recipe.

Apple and celery stuffing with Calvados
4 tablespoons butter
1 onion, chopped fine
2 shallots, chopped fine
4 ribs of celery, chopped fine
2 Golden Delicious apples, cored, seeded chopped
4 sprigs thyme tied together
1/2 tsp nutmeg
¼ cup spiced cider
¼ cup of Calvados
2 tablespoons chopped parsley
salt, pepper

Melt the butter into a sauté pan over medium heat and sauté the onion, celery and shallot until slightly softened, about five minutes. Add the apple, thyme and nutmeg and continue until very soft, about eight minutes. Deglaze the pan with the cider, scraping the bottom for any brown bits. Add the Calvados and let simmer briefly until reduced. Add the chopped parsley, salt and pepper. Taste to check seasonings and set aside to cool. Carefully place half the stuffing into the cavity of one leg, extending up to the thigh area. (Careful, don’t overdo it or you won’t be able to truss up the leg.) With a trussing needle, sew up the edges of the leg tightly. This will get more difficult the further “up” the leg you go, and it may no longer be possible to truss without exposing a lot of meat. One option is to add a piece of bacon to cover the meat so that it doesn’t dry out. Place in a roasting pan atop roughly cut onions, apples and celery. Coat with butter, and then cook at 350 degrees for about one hour to 90 minutes, depending on the size of the legs. Baste every 10 minutes with fresh butter and pan drippings. Let rest for a least a few minutes before carving.

Note: To extend the flavor, I simmer onion, apples and shallots and a small amount of spiced apple cider in turkey stock for a separate gravy to go with the legs. Just before serving, I stir in a bit of Calvados.

For the brine: Soaking turkey in a brine overnight softens and seasons the meat. Make sure your turkey stays cold. I used 1 quart spiced apple cider, 1 cups kosher salt, 1/3 cup brown sugar, 1/4 cup whole allspice, 10 garlic cloves minced, 4 bay leaves, 4 quarts cold water. One good thing about a boned turkey? It's easier to fit into your fridge.

Cookbook Social December 2nd

Join me at the Fourth Annual Cookbook Social at the Palace Ballroom in Seattle on Wednesday, Dec. 2nd from 4 to 7 p.m.

This is a great event. More than 20 local chefs and cookbook authors show up armed with stacks of their cookbooks to personalize -- and signed books make great Christmas presents. As you mingle around the Ballroom, you can sample tastes from the authors' favorite recipes plus a complimentary glass of wine, too. I'll be bringing my caramelized onion quiche and my latest version of a new recipe that I'm perfecting for a herb-infused tart tatin.

Along with me will be some of my favorite chefs and authors from the Northwest: Nicole Aloni, Matthew Amster-Burton, Greg Atkinson, Erica Bauermeister, Renee Behnke, Fran Bigelow, Kathy Casey, Langdon Cook, Kathy Kingen, Sharon Kramis and Julie Kramis-Hearne, Leslie Mackie, Lora Lea Misterly, Cynthia Nims, Vitaly and Kimberly Paley, Melissa Peterman and Marucs Pape, Thierry Rautureau, Keith Robbins, and of course, Tom Douglas.

This event invariaby sells out, so sign up today. Tickets are $22 per person (tax included), and include the tastes mentioned above plus a glass of wine. Contact Christy at (206)448.2001 or via email at http://www.blogger.com/christinal@tomdouglas.com

The Fat Acceptance Movement

Are the obese the new "black?" (Forgive that politically incorrect phrase). The "Fat Acceptance Movement" is working to bring to light discrimination against the weight-challenged, which a Yale University study found is as prevalent as race or gender discrimination. But unlike race or gender, obesity isn't something you're born with -- or is it?

Some studies suggest that the overwhelming stress we experience through daily modern life is to blame. But when you peruse the stunning consellation of the web site This is Why You Are Fat, one begins to ponder whether the overwhelming amount of food, and a increased dependence on high-fat, high-salt convenience foods is more likely to blame.

Whether it's due to heredity issues, a sluggish thyroid, medication or a host of other issues, it's more difficult for some people to lose weight. There's also a lot that the medical community can't explain about why some people can eat cheeseburgers and stay relatively thin, while others balloon up to become Biggest Loser contestants. But the one point that I'd like to make is this: the more you rely on processed foods, the more likely you are to struggle with your weight. The more you weigh, the greater the likelihood that you'll suffer from a whole slate of health issues.

In doing research for my next book, I've found a couple dozen research studies that support this, some focusing on the use of MSG in foods, others on food stamps users reliance on boxes and convenience foods, or the prevalence of high-fructose corn syrup in such product.

At the same time, virtually all research points to another conclusion: the more often you prepare your own meals using real food, including a lot of vegetables and whole grains, and learn to make good choices, the less you weigh.

Recipe: Quick Spicy Fish Sauté with Tomato & Garlic Sauce

I’ve been spending the week on Anna Maria Island. No trip is complete without a visit to Cortez, the historic fishing village named for the murderous bastard who wiped out its original population. Mom and I headed over to the Cortez Bait & Seafood Market yesterday and picked up some grouper and red hog snapper, also known as hogfish, caught by local fishermen in the Gulf. Back home, I did a quick slather with some herbs and olive oil, and then gave the fish a brief sauté finished with steaming, a trick that I learned from a chef in France.
Credit for the side dish goes to my culinary pal, Lisa, who learned a clever trick for zucchini from an aging nonna in Italy. It’s simply zucchini slowly cooked in olive oil until it breaks down, yielding a soft, nutty flavor, spiced only with some salt and pepper. Normally, she makes it with rotini or penne pasta, but in this case, I added it to brown rice cooked in chicken stock.

Quick spicy fish sauté
This is a basic sauté that works for any whitefish that yields soft, succulent fish thanks to the brief steaming at the end of the sauté which ensures that the flesh cooks through, but keeps the fish from drying out. I use herbs de provence but the ubiquitous mixed Italian herbs works fine. Whenever you sauté anything, including fish, put the “presentation side” down into the pan first. Serves two.

Two fish fillets, 4-6 oz. each
1 tablespoon + a couple glugs olive oil
1 teaspoon mixed herbs
1 teaspoon cayenne
½ teaspoon sea salt
Juice of half a lemon or lime
Many hearty grinds black pepper
¼ cup white wine, water or diluted lemon juice

Slather the fish with the 1 tablespoon olive oil, herbs, cayenne, salt and citrus juice, top with cranks of black pepper.

Heat the other olive oil over high heat. When hot, add the fish, place the fish in the pan and give it a couple of shakes to keep it from sticking. Depending on the When the edges of the fish begin to look opaque, turn the fish over. Sear the other side until brown and the bottom edge cooks through. Then, add in the wine or water. Let it evaporate for a minute or two and then cover to steam the fish for about two to three minutes or until the fish cooks through. It’s done when the fish is firm to the touch, and the skin flakes. Serve while hot.

Quick garlic-tomato sauce
Chop up a couple cloves of garlic. Add to hot olive oil over medium-high heat and sauté for a minute or so. Add a handful of chopped tomatoes, salt and pepper and cook until the tomatoes slightly soften. If you’ve got fresh basil or parsley, toss in a bunch, stir it around. Put it atop the fish.

Zucchini with Brown Rice

Inspired by a visit Lisa took to Sicily, this is an easy way to pair zucchini with pasta or rice. Plan on at least a half a pound per person, but feel free to use more. Feel free to use liberal amounts of salt and pepper.

2 lbs. zucchini, chopped
Two tablespoons olive oil
Salt, pepper
8 ounces pasta, such as penne
About a cup of hot pasta water or hot stock
Grated Parmigiano or Grana cheese (optional)

In a large non stick skillet, add a couple tablespoons of olive oil over medium heat and add the zucchini, stirring up to coat evenly with the oil, add more oil if necessary to coat. Add salt and pepper and cook the zucchini for about 20 minutes, lowering heat if too much browning happens. Add in hot pasta or hot rice. If using pasta, add in some hot pasta water to further “melt” the cooked zucchini. If using rice, add in some hot chicken stock. Cook until heated through and the zucchini mostly loses its shape. Add in Parmigiano (if using). Can be served hot or cold.

Recipe: Mushroom-Lentil Paté

One day during summer break in high school, my mother took me to lunch at the posh The Longboat Key Club, where she worked in HR at the time. Lunch at "the club" meant finger bowls, white linens and posh French food. The first course was chicken liver paté with toast points. I grew up on a farm. We did not eat paté, although my mother clandestinely padded the occasional dish with chicken livers, which came free from the many chickens she routinely dispatched. I have blocked the bulk of those meals from my tender childhood memories.

But that afternoon, as I sat consciously aware of my table etiquette amid the seniors in their expensive golf attire, nothing in the world tasted as good as that paté. In lo the many years since then, some variation on paté has been in my appetizer/potluck arsenal. However, there’s a sad truth. Some people just can’t get jazzed about pulverized chicken, liver or even goose liver. Not to mention, it simply can’t be that good for you.

Enter in my continuous experiments with vegetarian paté. This one is my latest favorite. Mushrooms for flavor, a dose of lentils for protein and texture, all mixed with a hearty shot of herbs. Despite valiant attempts with angles and lighting, I admit, it looks a little like, well, poo. Don’t hold that against this dish. It’s yummy.

Mushroom-Lentil Paté
I often make this with French green lentils, which lends a sort of peppery flavor to the end result. However, feel free to use any kind of lentil. If you’ve got them, an ounce of dried mushrooms, rehydrated until soft in warm water, can be added to the mushrooms for an extra punch of flavor but that’s strictly optional.

¼ cup dried lentils
2 tablespoons olive oil
3 cloves garlic, minced
8 ounces cremini mushrooms, roughly chopped
2 teaspoons mixed Italian herbs
¼ teaspoon cayenne or few drops hot sauce
1 tablespoon tomato paste
½ teaspoon salt, grinds of coarse pepper
Something green for a garnish

Cook the lentils according to package directions. (Generally, you bring them to a boil for a couple of minutes, then cover and simmer until tender, about 30 to 40 minutes.) Meanwhile, cook the garlic in the olive oil over medium-high heat until softened, about a minute or two. Add the mushrooms, dried herbs, cayenne, tomato paste, salt and a few grinds of pepper and stir thoroughly. You may need to add an extra tablespoon of olive oil to coat the mushrooms at this point. Cover and simmer until softened, about 15 minutes. Let cool slightly until lentils finish cooking. Drain the lentils, combine with the mushroom mixture and process in a food processor until it’s smoothed to your liking. Check seasonings, adding salt and pepper to taste. Serve with melba toast or crackers.

Don't hustle the lobsters

In a story in The New York Times on Sunday, writer Bruce Buchsel offered up 100 things that every restaurant staffer should know. As someone who spent a fair amount of my misspent youth working as a server and as a former restaurant critic, I immediately mused on some of the offerings.

Many, I agreed with, such as "# 11. Do not hustle the lobsters. That is, do not say, 'We only have two lobsters left.' Even if there are only two lobsters left." It makes me dubious. Are they truly popular, or pushing their sell-by date?

And, of course, "#12: Do not touch the rim of a water glass.” Agreed, I do not want a server to paw my glass.

But with some, I took issue, notably #23: “If a group enjoys a bottle of wine, steam off the label and present it with their check.” Are you serious? Exactly when, in between waiting on eight tables, would a server find a steamer and then spend the 10 minutes that it requires to take the label off?

For an expert opinion on that one, and the others, I turned to the surliest possible expert over at the blog Waiter Rant. The waiter's surliness is refreshing.

Equally though, there are at least 100 Things That Diners Should Know, too. Here's a few of mine, certainly not an exhaustive list:

1) Timing is everything. Call the restaurant if you will be more than 15 minutes late or if you need to cancel a reservation. This is just good practice. If you're a half hour late, you have no right to throw a tantrum if they gave away your table. Why? They assume that you've blown off your reservation, and like most people, didn't call.

2) Show good manners. Be polite to servers. Don't place huge bags at your feet making it more difficult to serve you. Say "thank you." They are culinary professionals, not members of some lower caste system.

3) Please don’t wear sweatpants to dine at a French bistro. C'mon, make an effort. I'm in my little black dress and you're in fleece? It happens all the time in Seattle. Worth noting, dressed-up patrons tend to get better service.

4) Take charge of your kids. Last week, a woman thought her 4-year-old throwing fries at the next table was just darling behavior. Um, no. The occasional meltdown aside, if yours just can’t behave, leave them at home. If your server has to get a vacuum after you leave, be a decent person and leave an extra tip.

5) Minimize cell phone use. If you have to take a call, be brief or take it outside. Better yet, put it on vibrate. It’s distracting, not to mention that you’re ignoring your dining companions.

6) Tips. Personally, I favor the European approach to this issue, where restaurants pay their servers decent wages so that they don’t have to rely on tips. That aside, my dad always said, "No one can afford to be thought of as cheap." Try to leave 20%. Don't leave coins in a restaurant folder.

7) Communicate in a useful way. Had a good experience, especially at a small place? Write a review online. If your experience was bad enough to pen a bad one, try calling the restaurant first and try to have a constructive dialogue. I don't know why people don't do this more often. "Hey, we were there last night and..." Restaurants rely on repeat business; they often will go out of their way to make up for a bad experience. Not to mention, a nasty online attack frequently comes off as petty and/or passive-aggressive.

8) Don’t punish servers for bad food. So the kitchen overcooked your steak? If your waiter handled it graciously and expediently, don’t skimp on the tip. After all, they didn't cook it. If a dish was bad enough that the server or a manager comps it, you are expected to leave a tip for what the full amount would have been had it remained on the bill. However, if a server admits royally screwing up your order, that's a different story.

9) Don’t make up allergies. People do this all the time. An allergy is serious business and puts the kitchen on alert, sometimes requiring changing out pans, cutting boards, knives and other equipment. It's a huge deal. Don't like mushrooms? Just say so. It's OK. The server wants his tip. He'll be sure you don't get any.

10) Learn some basic dining etiquette. It's surprising how many people don't seem to know fundamental etiquette. Some serve as clues to servers. When finished eating, slide your utensils together in the center of the plate. Voila! They know you're done. Plus, learn to use the right fork. It's not that difficult. My greatest pet peeve -- don't leave your napkin on your seat. You really want to wipe your mouth where hundreds of other diners put their backsides? Yuck.

Recipe for a McNuggetini

It's the look on "that first sip" that's priceless. Seriously, this is quite possibly the only way that fast food should be consumed... with heaps of vodka.

Food writing in magazines alive and well

Sad about the demise of Gourmet? Fear not. Food writing in magazines is alive and well. Here's a great guide to magazine food writing. My personal favorite are Gastronomica and Saveur...

Arguably one of my very favorite time wasting activities online involves Cake Wrecks. Now, it's all totally official. New York Times story, proper book. Really, how fabulous, a whole book dedicated to great screw-ups like the above, a cake in which the person ordering it probably said, "Oh, on text, nothing." Ha!!

I have a total cake wrecks story. I will save it for a future memoir because frankly, it's just too, well, painful without context. We're talking a whole chapter of another memoir. So for now, congrats to Jen Yates....

Recipe: Chicken Noodle Soup For Flu Emergencies

On Monday, I awoke with a crushing case of the flu. Head stuffed with cement and couldn't get out of bed kind of flu, the real deal. But in a moment of over-the-counter-drug induced faux clarity, I hobbled to the kitchen and assembled some chicken noodle soup with what I had on hand and had hot, piping soup within an hour.

The key is to put the garlic in toward the end of cooking. That way, you're destroying less of the array of medicinal qualities attributed to it, including killing bacteria. I also used a big handful of herbs from my containers on the patio for flavor. If you don't have them, substitute with dried mixed herbs. I also only had mixed frozen vegetables on hand, but you can use fresh if you've got them. And use whatever chicken you've got on hand. I had a breast with rib on from breaking down chickens, even though I've called for the more populist boneless, skinless variety below.

Chicken soup for emergencies

2 tablespoons olive oil
½ yellow onion, chopped (about 1 ½ cups)
3 stalks celery, chopped (about 3/4 cup)
½ cup (125 ml) white wine or vermouth
2 quarts chicken stock (may use half water)
Large bouquet garni (a fistful mix of parsley, fresh oregano, thyme)
OR 1 tablespoon dried mixed herbs
½ teaspoon salt, a few cranks of pepper
1 large boneless, skinless chicken breast
1 16 oz. package frozen mixed vegetables
4 garlic cloves, minced
2 ounces (50 g) wide noodles
2 teaspoons minced fresh parsley (optional)

In a large Dutch oven, heat the olive oil over medium heat. Add the onion, and celery and cook until soft. Add the white wine and let reduce by one-half. Add the stock and/or water. Heat through. Add the chicken and herbs. Bring to a low boil, then reduce heat and simmer, partially covered, for 40 minutes. (This will effectively poach the chicken.)

Remove the chicken from the soup with tongs. Add the frozen vegetables and simmer in the liquid for a few moments while the chicken cools. After about five minutes, add in the noodles. Break the meat into bite-sized chunks and add to the pot after about a few minutes, once the noodles are halfway cooked, along with the chopped garlic. Simmer for another few minutes or until ready to eat, adding salt and and pepper as needed. Before serving, stir in the parsley. Makes about eight servings, or enough for a couple days with the flu. (Below, the big ass bouquet garni)

Sydney International Food Festival

Should you find yourself in Sydney in mid-October, (or need a reason to go), you'll want to attend the new Sydney International Food Festival. To celebrate international food, the hosting organization put together national flags of participating countries using popular local foods of each nation. Japan is probably my favorite, followed by Brazil (below). Thanks to Amanda Hesser for pointing it out on Facebook.

Our dinners for Eddie

On Monday, my sister took the day off work. We teamed up to spend the entire day cooking. Not for ourselves, but for my ailing stepfather, Eddie.

Now 78, Eddie has had a decade of serious health issues. Recently, he had some falls, a tough recovery from surgery and pneumonia -- and lost more than 20 pounds off his already thin frame in less than six weeks. Despite her perpetual age of 39, we've started to notice that the role of caretaker has taken a toll on our mother. Two weeks ago, my sister, Sandy, drove to her house with a car full of groceries. She cooked enough meals to last at least two weeks, in an effort to give my mother a break from her 24-hour cooking, cleaning and caring schedule.

They loved it. As Eddie says, "It's not like I travel now. The highlight of my day is hitting Walgreen's. Food is all that I have to truly look forward to."

We decided to cook them enough for a month. Over the weekend, we made a list of his favorite meals. Classic Thanksgiving fare topped his list, along with spaghetti. We armed ourselves with a mountain of groceries. Two women in my smallish kitchen made for crazy, hectic, tripping over each other cooking -- and a great time, 'cause nothing is more fun than cooking with my sister (above).

We cooked 40 meals, some with enough for leftovers in one day. Here's the list:

Thanksgiving dinner with all the trimmings (x5)
Beef & cheese stuffed cabbage rolls (x4)
Meatloaf (x5)
Chicken Florentine (x4)
Spaghetti and meatballs (x7)
Black bean soup (x3)
Cassoulet (x3)
Beef bourguignon (x4)
Pot roast (x3)
Caramelized onion steak sandwich (x4)
Mashed potatoes (x2)
Lots of homemade gravy

Now I'm off to make some turkey noodle soup with the remainder of the turkey carcass...

Do the French appreciate Julia?

Does it matter? A recent story in the The New York Times notes that despite her canonization as the unofficial ambassador for French cuisine in this country, most French people haven't heard of Julia Child.

In a way, it makes sense. Her book, Mastering the Art of French Cooking, was always intended for an American audience. It was never translated to French for one obvious reasons -- in theory, the French know how to cook their own cuisine.

I bought a copy in London in 2002 and that copy wasn't translated to English, either, meaning that it had no specific shifts for UK cooks such as gas marks and English measures. Consider that on Amazon.co.uk, there are only three reviews for the seminal work, two posted by Americans living abroad. On Amazon in the United States, there are 134 reviews.

One thing that you learn as an expat is that celebrity -- especially television celebrity -- doesn't always travel. I used to scratch my head in the market check out at the cover of OK magazine in London, since I didn't recognize most of the people on the cover. After living abroad for a couple of years, I couldn't recognize most people on People magazine, either. (Who is Jessica Simpson, and why is she famous again?)

The NY Times noted: "In an interview
in the French daily newspaper Le Figaro last week, [Meryl] Streep said:
“What surprises me is that the French don’t know her at all. While for
Americans, she was one of the best ambassadors of France ... since
Lafayette!”

But that's the thing about ambassadors. They aren't often known as well in their home countries as they are abroad, unless something goes wrong. London newspapers routinely reported on the American ambassadors to the United Kingdom and to the United Nations when I lived there. Can you name the American ambassador to the United Kingdom?

In her lifetime, Julia Child was recognized officially for her work distributing her love for French cuisine to the world's largest economy by the French government, which awarded her the Légion d'honneur, or Legion of Honor. And of course, despite her issues with Madame Brassart, the battle axe at the helm of Le Cordon Bleu during her tenure, the current owner Andre Cointreau loves her. A beautiful portrait of her hangs in a coveted position in the hallway up to the kitchen.

Although Julia loved France, I wonder if she would be bothered whether they cared or not. I think she reveled more in the fact that people took her teaching to heart, evidenced by books battered by years of companionship in the kitchen. When I offered her my own tattered copy of Mastering the Art of French cooking for her to sign back in 1994, she laughed with glee at the duct tape reinforcing the spine. "Now, THIS is what I love to see!" she exclaimed.

The irony is that at the same time that Julie & Julia introduces a whole new generation to Julia Child, it may also be introducing her to the people whose cuisine she championed for more than half of her life, too.

Autumn tasting dinner

Join me for a special tasting dinner this Sunday, Sept. 13th at 6 p.m. The highlight of the evening will be a comparative tasting and discussion of artisan beef, led by Carrie Oliver, founder of The Artisan Beef Institute.

Carrie is bringing in a special array of beef to taste direct from farmers. As she says, "It's like a wine tasting, but with steaks!" We'll be tasting the same cut of beef from four artisan quality farm and butcher teams, each specializing in a different breed, growing region, diet, and aging time & technique.

We'll also be tasting a variety of salts, plus a smattering of olive oils, cheeses and more as part of a communal four-course dinner.

Cost is $40 per person, or $75 per couple, and wine is BYOB. Space is limited to 16 guests, and the spaces are going fast. To reserve a spot, drop an email. Location is the Wandering Cafe, 7533 Lake City Way N.E.

Hangin' with Tom Douglas at Bumbershoot

On Saturday, I had the good fortune to spend an hour chatting with Tom Douglas in front of a packed audience of 300 or so fans at Bumbershoot. I'm an unabashed Fan of Tom. He's not only a superlative chef and businessman, but one of the genuinely sweetest, humble people that I've ever met. And he's funny, too.

We talked about the pros and cons of culinary school, our favorite comfort foods and the virtue of roasted chickens in France. Tom believes that culinary school isn't necessary (he's living proof), and that, in general, he hires people for the kitchen based on a single reliable indicator -- whether or not an individual has a pulse. (Staying in the kitchen is another thing, of course...) The Daily Blender did a good job of covering of what we discussed, and even has a couple of quick video clips, too.

But our main point of discussion focused on the Seattle Times food writing competition, "Food for Thought," which Tom and I judged. The winner (below), generated some talk about our own school lunches, and first forays eating out. Tom used to go to a lunch counter on Sunday mornings when he was supposed to be at church, but instead told his parents that he was out on his paper route. He'd perch on the edge of the counter, watching the cooks prepare his lunch. It's clearly a warm memory for him. "It's one of the reason why I went into the food business."

During the Q&A, a person from the audience asked about food experiences one shouldn't miss in the Northwest. Off the top of my head, I could only think of a couple. Since then, I've come up with a more complete list:

• Oysters on the picnic table at Taylor Shellfish Farm on Chuckanut Drive in autumn,
  
• A warm piroshky on a cold day at Pike Place Market


• Ivar's fish and chips on a bright, sunny day at the waterfront
  
• a big piece of Alaskan salmon and cooking it on a plank on a grill,
  
• dim sum at in the International District on a bustling weekend morning


• eating Ranier cherries on a walk home from a farmer's market


• an elegant light dinner at the bar at Il Terrazo Carmine,


• a picnic anywhere with a view packed from the Cheese Cellar
  
• the duck buns at Wild Ginger


• the triple coconut cream pie at the Dahlia Lounge


• cocktails on the deck at The Pink Door on a sunny day,


• fried chicken at The Kingfish Cafe

... and I know there's plenty more. Sigh. I love the Northwest.

Winner in the Food For Thought writing contest

I couldn't find this online anywhere, so I decided to publish it here.

I was the kid who brought her lunch in sticky, leaky Tupperware
By Juliette Kaplan, Bellevue, Wa.

Tupperware was not cool.

When people asked me,
Where are you parents from
Like a well-rehearsed robot, I would recite,
My mom is from the Philippines,
And my dad is from the former Soviet Union.
I thought he was from the Ukraine
But I just said what I heard from my mom.
Needless to say,
They were foreign,
With no experience with lunch time protocol,
Operational standards,
Social responsibility,
Or peanut butter and jelly.

Oh how I longed for gushers and handisnacks
Dunkaroos and Chex mix.
But no.
Why buy special food for lunch, when last night’s dinner wait to be reheated?
My food did not look like colorful plastic jewels,
Or glorious, cheesy orange goo.

I wanted to eat commercials, my parents fed me
Eyeroll, please!
Food.

My mother’s chicken adobo, that she marinated for days
In a recipe that endured Spanish colonization,
Japanese occupation
And American immigration.
Babushaka’s mashed potatoes and Russian meat patties
That lie somewhere between hamburgers and meatloaf
What are you eating Julie?The dreaded question
It’s called catleka, it’s this Russian thing, I would grumble,
as I bowed my head in shame.

Or maybe it was
Longan
Similar to a lychee fruit, it came in cans of heavy syrup
And was transferred to Tupperware
For me to carefully balance
So it did not leak,
And make me as sticky and unappealing to other kids
As my bulky Tupperware lunch was to me.

Oh how I longed for a nifty paper sack
But why on earth would we buy paper sacks,
When we have plenty of plastic ones
From the grocery store?
Besides,
Tupperware did not fit nicely
Into nifty paper sacks.

Lines of children
With lunch boxes with Velcro
And Disney pictures and superheroes
And a plethora of nifty paper sacks!
And then me,
Inconveniently
Trying to hide
My crumply white plastic grocery bag
The handles tied into not even a friendly bow,
But stiff, alert rabbit ears,
Conspicuous, and scared
Giving me away!
So desperate, so uncool.

There’s no microwave at school, DAD!

A lousy and fruitless attempt to be sure,
How could they ever understand?
That’s ridiculous! He said,
Is there a kitchen?
Then there’s a microwave!

I hated my stupid Tupperware,
And my quick, covert trips across the cafeteria
With the regretful request
To reheat
My uncool lunch
that was really last night’s dinner.

But at least I dodged
Direct exclusion
When the trading frenzy erupted
Fruit-by-the-foot thrown across the table,
Egg salad, on white bread
Flying overhead.
My Tupperware-encased,
Preservative-free, non-English words, did not fly among these kids

Oh Tupperware, you were the source of my social demise.

But I forgive you, Mom and Dad,
For the years of anguish I endured
In the closed mind of the American school lunch room,
Unwelcome to aromas of heritage and love.
Because now I’ll take Tupperware,
With delicious delicacies from your respective homelands
Over boring PB and J
Any day.

Win a spot in the food writing weekend...

In cooperation with Bumbershoot and the Richard Hugo House, there's now a special sweepstakes to win a spot in my intensive weekend-long writing course Hungry for Words. You can learn more about it in this fabulously compelling PDF.

To enter, simply send an email with your name and phone number before 12:01 a.m. 7th September. A winner will be selected on the 10th September. The class itself takes part on the 14th-15th November.

On a side note, there's a nice interview in Three Imaginary Girls today, an advice publicity piece for my gig at Bumbershoot this weekend. It's one of the rare Q&As that I've done that's literally word-for-word. (I was in the closet of my office during our talk due to construction noise outside.) Do actually say the word "actually" that much? Now I know how Sarah Palin feels...

Introduction to Food Writing

Just a heads up. Registration for my weekend-long Hungry for Words: An Introduction to Food Writing Class starts next week for members of the Richard Hugo House; non-members will need to wait until the 25th.

But, I should note that the last time I taught this class, the spaces sold out in 26 minutes of the first day of registration for members, so if you're interested, be sure to check in with the Hugo House registrar on Monday if you want to become a member to get a jump on registration. I did extend the class to 15 participants this round, instead of 10.

It's a jam-packed weekend. Details can be found in this riveting PDF. There's lot of discussion, plus wine. The weekend has the oddly random price of $213.50 for non-members, and $192 for Hugo House members.

The next steps

Today, I sent my agent the proposals of my next two books. You read that right. OK, it might have taken me awhile but ever the over-achiever, I felt the need to get right back on the horse with a vengeance. So, officially, I'm at work on two books, although, unofficially, I'm working on four. Who can blame me? I can barely read one book at a time.

The reality, of course, is that my agent will come back with feedback, and I'll probably have to rewrite a lot of it. And I didn't send him a sample chapter, which normally a second-round author wouldn't need but we both agreed that I'd write for the sake of knowing how the whole thing would play itself out.

I've come to a couple of important conclusions in this whole process. One, writing a follow-up to a first book is tough. Second, while I love reading food memoirs, I wasn't completely sure that I want to write another one. Not for my sake, but for everyone around me. ("You're gonna include that?")

A lot of people have asked about the next book. So far, all I can say is that somewhere between The Sharper Your Knife the Less You Cry and now, I had a bit of an existential crisis. After all, when you’ve accomplished your lifelong dream by attending Le Cordon Bleu at age 36, and are now theoretically living happily ever after with the man of your dreams, what exactly are you supposed to do for the next 30 years or so? That's the premise.

Book No. 3? That's a secret... for now.

Julie & Julia

Tonight, I finally saw Julie & Julia. My appreciation of the film is biased enough that it's almost not worth mentioning if I liked it or not, although I did. Meryl Streep nailed Julia's voice, Amy Adams was deeply palatable and Susan Spungen's food styling made both Mike and I immediately go home and look through the fridge.

Mike and I were in Paris last summer and stumbled onto filming for Julie & Julia along Rue Mouffetard, just around the corner from a friend's flat where we were staying. I stood a few feet from Nora Ephron and watched Meryl Streep come and go on the set. (At present, a television network will be airing a film version of my book shot on location in Paris.)

I read Julie & Julia before it was published in the galley format, back in 2005 when my own book was being shopped around to publishers. I had already poked through some of the Julie/Julia Project online when I was 37, like Julia, and attending Le Cordon Bleu in Paris.

Forever I've harbored a fierce and abiding love for Julia Child. I met her back in 1994 at the Greenbrier Symposium for Professional Food Writers. Randomly, I met Amanda Hesser then, too. She later went on to be a food writer for The New York Times who helped create a sensation around Julie Powell's blog, and she makes a cameo appearance as herself in the film.

But clouding the whole thing has been this crazy "controversy" around whether or not bloggers "hate" Julie Powell. Seriously.

Newsweek ran a story headlined "Stop Hating Julie Powell." The Huffington Post even felt compelled to run a "summary" about the controversy.

Food writer Virginia Willis is arguably one of the people in the culinary industry I respect the most. She aired her thoughts in a much-reported post on the subject. Willis' main beef about Powell was that she took on a tone of disrespect, questioning one of Child's chicken recipes, and fair enough. Roast chicken represents sacred ground to a lot of cooks, including me.

But for the rest of it, Willis seemed more critical of the media and the publishing industry than of Powell directly. In today's world, food writers aren't rewarded for their expertise; rather it's all about "platform." Food Network stars sell lots of books, even if they aren't necessarily trained or knowledgeable cooks. What Willis aired was not sour grapes, but the frustration that many writers feel when someone without a writing background such as Powell gets a big-deal book contract and a national forum to write op-ed pieces in The New York Times while other perhaps more deserving food writers are left hungry, so to speak.

Powell doesn't seem to disagree. In 2003, she noted "I am, in fact, officially What's Wrong With Publishing Today," when first disclosing her book deal.

Aware of all this, the day before the film opened, I went for a good comrade gesture and posted a comment on my Facebook and Twitter accounts. The gist was that I liked the book Julie & Julia. I'm proud to have Julie Powell is my Facebook friend. (We've never met in person.)

The response? I was hated on via Twitter, and via email. Nearly 20 people stopped following me immediately on Twitter. "Did you know that she called 9/11 victims whiners?" or "How could you defend her? She HATES bloggers, she said so."

On my Facebook entry, a noted culinary icon took Powell to task and pair had a bit of tete-a-tete over the weekend. In over-simplified terms, the older woman took offence to Julie's swearing and drinking, Julie replied back that it's her life, so whatever. In the end, it appeared more of a generational gap than anything else. They both graciously noted that when you're a public person, sometimes people just harsh on you. The exchange came to a concilatory conclusion, which made me like them both even more.

To me, it seems that if Powell offended bloggers it's been more out of ambivalence than malice. She never considered herself part of the club, and once reported she found a lot of them boring. One site reported that she found bloggers evil and clannish, and sure, that's not nice, but she quickly added that she, too, could sometimes be evil and clannish. (Added on 11th July: I think that she was making a joke taken out of context - KF)

The biggest issue seems to be that in asserting herself as an author, she rejected the role of blogger, and that's what irks people the most. But titles are complex these days. I don't consider myself a blogger per se, but here I am writing on my blog. I don't consider myself a chef, either, even though I'm usually billed that way.

As someone who has penned a memoir, I've suffered through unpleasant personal attacks in Amazon reviews and discussed intimate details of my life with inane interviewers who never cracked my book. I once had a vapid TV host ask me on the air -- live -- whether I planned to have kids, just weeks after wrenching reproductive surgery.

It's my hope that now that the film has released, the herd will shift and this will all die down. I don't know Powell, so it's not about defending her personally. I feel a bit of kinship with any author or blogger who has had to deal with bad reviews, nasty comments or just the sometimes unflattering glare of the spotlight.

Misery loves company. Writers should stick together.

(Photo of Meryl Streep and the Paris on-location set by Mike Klozar; photo of Julie Powell by Ken Lambert of The Seattle Times)

The Big Food Writing Contest

Just a reminder - the deadline for Bumbershoot's "Food for Thought" contest, is 11:59 p.m. Sunday, August 2 (for all the details and an electronic entry form, open this link). To enter, compose a short essay (500-word max) focused on a memorable food experience -- pleasant or not so much.

And I can't quite get over that I'm judging this with the incomparable Tom Douglas. I've long been a fan of his for years. We'll be discussing the winning entry (and some of the non-winning ones) during our chat labeled "F is for Food," on Saturday September 5th (noon-1:15 p.m.).

The Seattle Times has promised to publish the winning essay and treat winner and a guest to two Platinum VIP passes to Bumbershoot.

At the U-District Farmer's Market this weekend

Hey all, I know that you've been just waiting for a chance to stump me with obtuse questions about heirloom eggplant varietals. As Chef in Residence at the U-District Farmer's Market, I'll be at the "Ask a Chef" booth from 10 a.m. to noon this Saturday, August 1st. I'll be the one sweating in my chef's jacket, handing out free recipes. I'll also bring a mini food reference library with me, and try stumping people with culinary trivia, too.

Next week, my pal Rebekah Denn of Eat All About It takes the stand. On August 22nd, you can talk to the ever fabulous Shauna James Ahearn of Gluten Free Girl fame, who will be there with her chef husband Daniel.

The Lunch Lady

-Posted by Lisa Simpson. My grandmother was proudly the Lunch Lady for nearly 40 years at Walton Verona High School in Boone County Kentucky. My mother and her sisters went to that same school their entire school careers, when I lived there it was for the big kids- 6th through 12th. Now it’s 9 -12, but that’s only recently- the town has grown exponentially in the last decade- it’s doubled, maybe tripled from 2,450 people in 2000.

She wasn’t a celebrity but due to her tenure as a Lunch Lady to several generations it was hard to go anywhere in northern Kentucky and not run into someone MawMaw knew- she’d fed half the county by the time she retired at 75- a computer system was brought in and she couldn’t quite nail down the details of the new millennium.

MawMaw loved food. My strongest, earliest food memory involves her- waiting impatiently at the window in White Castle in Florence, Kentucky, both of us watching the cook flip our burgers while “Jessie’s Girl” played over the radio. To this day, the smell of frying onions sails me over time and space back to that window in my memory, both of us standing with our noses pressed to the glass willing our sliders to cook faster. She made the best potato salad, the best spice cake, the best barbecue. Her diet defied modern American nutritional advice: If I get to live strong and healthy on chili dogs and biscuits and gravy, I can’t ask for anything more. My grandmother was in Seattle just a few weeks ago, healthy and hungry. We ate our way through the pastry case at Café Besalu then wandered the Ballard Farmer’s Market. MawMaw ate pastry from Little Prague, pizza from Veraci, cheese from everyone. My husband couldn’t figure out where such a little 85 year old woman put it all. I had no answer for him- she had always been like that and I could guarantee that she’d be asking about lunch in a few hours.

For as long as I can remember, MawMaw could be counted on saying: It’s been four hours- what’re we eating? A satisfied tummy was very important to her, and in a farming community, where poverty was always lurking, MawMaw kept change in her pocket to give to kids she knew were hungry. She never made a big deal out of it, never asked to be repaid. Kids would come through the line and MawMaw would just slip money in the till and wave them through- the community was small enough that everyone knew who was in dire straits. Probably, that hot lunch at school was the only food they got in a day.

The problem with small communities- everyone knows you and your business. But that’s also the reward of a small community, too. Total strangers will hug you in Bob Evans because they knew your grandmother. When mom and I flew back to Seattle, two of the Delta SkyCaps at Cincinnati International Airport stopped the line of frazzled holiday travelers to spend a few moments telling us how sorry they were- they had both gone through Rhoda’s lunch line in the 1960’s and 70’s. Mom and I stood there in the whirl of rushed travelers and cried- the unexpected condolences were like a wallop to the temple when you’re expecting a can of rootbeer instead. But it’s gratifying to know how her generosity touched so many lives, how many people will feel the force of her absence.

It’s hard to guess how much lunch money over the years MawMaw gave to the kids, but one thing is certain- when 500 people show up to your funeral, you know you did something right with your life.

And a good percentage of those people came bearing food. At my aunt’s house, the front porch looked like a Buddhist shrine. Flowers, cards, hand written notes, liters of soda, bowls of potato salad, platters of ham, trays of lasagna, casseroles, cakes, pies, cookies, brownies. Food covered the counters, filled the refrigerators in three different houses. We ate huge buffets every evening. Night after night, I sat with an overloaded paper plate and I ate. I thought how thrilled MawMaw would have been to see all that food, every night. “Ewww Buddy!” I can hear her saying with anticipation, looking around, her face lit up and eyebrows raised into little upside-down vees of delight. I ate because she would have enjoyed it so much that it felt like the best way to evoke her memory, to honor her by eating stewed string beans and pork belly. I suspect my entire family was doing the same, even though none of spoke of it.

An anonymous donor, someone who obviously knew her well, has generously set up a fund in MawMaw’s name- so that hungry kids in need that don’t qualify for the federal free lunch program in her high school will be able to have money to get a hot lunch. MawMaw would be embarrassed by the plaque bearing her likeness (another anonymous donor’s generosity), but happy to know her kids were getting fed.

The Rhoda Humphrey Memorial Lunch Fund
Walton-Verona Independent Schools
16 School Road
Walton, KY 41094
(859) 485.4181

Friends Don't Let Friends Eat Bluefin Tuna

Last night, I attended a screening event of the beautiful, fascinating and depressing documentary The End of the Line. The film illustrates the message and research found in the book of the same name written by British journalist Charles Clover. The tag line says it all: "Imagine a World Without Fish."

The End of the Line is the first film to document the devastating effects of overfishing, pushing some species into near or complete extinction. Some scientists predict wild fish may disappear from all but 1% of the Earth's oceans by 2048.

Did you get that? Extinct. Gone. Eighty-sixed. Scary stuff.

I've been sensitive to the issue of sustainable seafood for awhile, but its message rocked me nonetheless. I'm happy to eat less fish, but do I need to completely give up plank-grilled halibut, or the occasional plate of spicy shrimp in tomato saffron broth? I also know about the issues with salmon.

Fortunately, a panel discussion took place afterward that brought me down off the ledge. The group included the seafood sage Jon Rowley, sustainable sushi expert Casson Trenor, Shauna McKinnon of the Living Oceans Society and Becky Selengut of Seasonal Cornucopia. Their message? You don't stop eating fish completely, but you need to stop eating overfished varieties and be smart about your choices. Eat lower on the food chain -- sardines, anchovies and other small "silver flashing" kinds of fish. Call restaurants on bad practices. (In the film, Clover confronts Nobu in London on serving marlin and Chilean seabass, even though both have been on watch lists as being critically and illegally overfished for years.)

Other Ways to Be a Good Fish Eater:

• Get a Seafood Watch Card for your regional area to find what's good, bad and ugly in terms of sustainable fish.


• Ask questions. Where did your fish come from? Farm raised, or wild? Whether you're in a store or a restaurant, if they can't tell you specifics, don't eat their fish.


• Vote with your dollar. Don't buy fish on "avoid" lists. Reward places that make an effort to provide sustainable fish by patronizing them, or try to buy it as locally as possible. In Seattle, I routinely hit Jack's Fish Spot in Pike Place Market or my local PCC for fish. In Florida, I buy directly from the Star Fish Co. in the fishing village of Cortez.


• Don't blindly eat fish sticks. Do you really want to feed your kids an endangered species? Learn more about them. Better yet - learn to make your own, and buy fish that you feel good about.


• Speak up. I suspect the manager at the Publix on Anna Maria Island cringes when he sees me coming. I've repeatedly harassed them for selling farmed shrimp from places like Thailand instead of locally caught wild shrimp from the Gulf of Mexico. (I also complain about shipping tomatoes from Mexico, but that's another story.)
  
• Avoid "fish fads." The blackened redfish made famous by Paul Prudhomme in the 1980s nearly wiped out the entire redfish population. Monkfish is a recent example.

Thanks to wondergirl Traca Savadogo of Seattle Tall Poppy for organizing all of this. If you want to get in on some great events in Seattle, be sure to get on her list.

Summer Makes Every One A Better Cook

Posted by Lisa Simpson: There’s a familiar list of what is so great about summer, but I’ll just cut to the chase: The best thing about summer is the food. I can’t get enough of the weekly kaleidoscope at the farmer’s markets, and I can’t get enough tomatoes and fruit in my belly to begin to satisfy the long dark hunger of winter. When I see the first Eastern Washington tomatoes arrive in Seattle, I am like a bird dog pointing out unsuspecting grouse. Usually arugula arrives at the same time, like a happy coincidence.

I am always fascinated by the slow drag of early spring that jumps into the full explosion of summer and then the quick dwindle of the season, back to the Sisyphean task of winter. At this time of the year I’m always convinced I’m missing something, a feeling that there is a big party going on and I’m totally oblivious to it- somewhere there is something delicious and ripe and I’m missing it. I just noticed, only this morning, that my raspberries (callously stomped and slept upon by heartless deer last summer and given up for dead) have a burst of fruit on their crushed little limbs. I’m heading out with a bowl as soon as I finish this.

Nothing, to me, is more evocative of the season than salad. (Well, I'll talk about stone fruit next week.)

Jeffrey Steingarten wrote that anyone that eats salad more than twice a week is a salad abuser. Maybe I’d agree with that in January, but today? Why the heck aren’t you taking advantage of those succulent nibbly little lettuces and stuffing some in your mouth? Not eating greens in July- That is salad abuse.

And here is my favorite July Salad, cobbled together from a memorable lunch on a rainy vacation day in Italy.

That One Salad We Ate on Lipari salad

Arugula (also called ‘rocket’)

Butter Lettuce (wasn’t in the original salad, but I love it)

Thin red onion slices

Ripe, local tomatoes (Especially if you live somewhere good and hot)

Excellent mozzarella (the soft, fresh kind in brine- Bufala if you can source it)

Really Really good Olive Oil (spend some money on a bottle you use simply for salads- it will make a huge difference in your meals)

Really Really good Balsamic Vinegar (spend more money on a bottle you use for dipping- life without quality balsamic is grey and flat and a long hard slog to decrepitude)

Really Really good tuna (I buy a Spanish type, but then, like Hobbes, I’m kinda stupid that way).

Salt and pepper

Cut everything into bite-sized pieces, toss with oil, vinegar, salt and pepper. Eat that good stuff up, preferably outside with a nice glass of lightly chilled pinot grigio. Practice the art of doing nothing, an Italian specialty and one of the reasons why Italians seem to enjoy life more than Americans.