February 27, 2008

EatFoo: Gelatin Filtration

My experiences with the new technique of gelatin filtration, a brand spanking way to clarify your stocks.

Posted by Barzelay at 1:53 AM | Comments (2)

February 21, 2008

EatFoo: Carbonated Oranges, Chocolate "Chantilly"

Carbonated oranges (which were amazing), chocolate "chantilly," chocolate chip cookie crumble, passionfruit gels (fluid and set). At EatFoo.

Posted by Barzelay at 4:50 PM | Comments (1)

February 19, 2008

Your Food Allergies

I've always been very suspicious of people who claim to have allergies, whether food or otherwise. When pressed, they often say they know they have allergies because "one time I ate X, and the next day I had Y reaction, and everything else I ate that day was something I eat all the time." I'm suspicious not just because such stories lack solid causative links, but also because I once claimed a bullshit allergy of which I was convinced at the time.

While doing yardwork as a kid of maybe seven years old, I once was cutting some elephant ear fronds and got some of the sap on my inner elbow. The area turned red. I ran inside to wash it off, and then told my parents I couldn't cut elephant ear fronds anymore, because I'm allergic to the sap. I maintained this argument for maybe a year, and then decided voluntarily to cut those fronds the next year because the alternative was raking leaves, which I hated more. Naturally, some of the sap got on me again; no reaction. In retrospect, the most likely explanation for the original irritation was that a frond's jagged, freshly cut edge had scraped me as it deposited sap on my arm.

So... do you have any allergies? What about food allergies? Jeanette claims to be allergic to codeine without having been clinically diagnosed. Her sister, Betty, claims to be allergic to peanuts without having been clinically diagnosed. What do you think you're allergic to? Think about it. Okay. Got it in mind? Now check out this little fact I just read about:

"More than one-quarter of the population in seven countries in the European Union claims to suffer from food allergies or intolerances. ...[C]linical tests indicate that the incidence of such allergies is much lower than commonly believed (about 3.5% of the population)..." -- Herve This, Molecular Gastronomy: Exploring The Science Of Flavor

So... 86% of those who claim they have food allergies are wrong. How sure are you about your allergy now? Are you missing out on all sorts of delicious, peanutty goodness thanks to your own misdiagnosis? Are you avoiding oranges just because you caught a virus after eating them once? Wouldn't you rather feel guilty about eating ice cream because it makes your thighs fat than not eat ice cream at all?

It seems to me like it would be worth getting my allergies clinically tested. Or, if I'm one of the people claim to have a "mild allergy," it seems like it would be worth jumping into the deep end of the pool: Eat what you fear, and see how bad it really is. If you know it's not a serious enough reaction to cause permanent injury, and you don't have anything important going on that weekend, just eat it, and see what happens. There's an 86% chance that you'll experience no adverse effects.

Cross-posted at EatFoo.

Posted by Barzelay at 1:57 PM | Comments (6)

EatFoo: Sauteed Skate Wing

Crispy sauteed skate wing, roasted beet cubes, roasted russet potato cubes, leek-potato mash at EatFoo.

Posted by Barzelay at 2:53 AM | Comments (0)

February 18, 2008

EatFoo: Olive Oil-Poached Escolar

Escolar poached in olive oil with port wine caviar, meyer lemon juice, thyme, sea salt, at EatFoo.

Posted by Barzelay at 4:48 PM | Comments (2)

December 28, 2007

Major New Kitchen Items!

For Christmas, I asked my parents for, among other things, a particular mid-level consumer immersion blender. But it turns out that by the time I emailed my mother my Christmas list, she had already bought me an immersion blender without knowing that I wanted one! And, rather than getting that mid-level blender, she got me a friggin' badass Viking immersion blender. Well done, Mom!

Also, Jeanette's mom used a coupon to save me a ton of money on a stand mixer! I've been wanting a Kitchen-Aid Professional 600 series mixer (the Artisan series is annoying in that there's no space between the head and the bowl to add ingredients--you have to lift the head each time) for a while, but figured I'd be waiting until I have a full-time job, since they're normally $500. But when they were already on crazy sale, then I got an additional 30% + $30 off with her Kohl's coupons, and another $50 rebate from Kitchen-Aid, the price was down to $230 for me. It would have been irresponsible for me not to buy it at such a discount since I'd end up buying it in a year anyway. So now I'm the proud owner of a Kitchen-Aid Professional 600 Stand Mixer. And it turns out that I halfway paid for it by returning a scarf, sweater, and coat that my mom got me that were just not my style.

My parents also got me the food grinder attachment, and the pasta roller and cutter attachments to my stand mixer. So here comes sausages, ground meat, and homemade pasta. So now I've got all my blending/mixing needs covered.

I also got The French Laundry Cookbook (amazing), The Whole Beast: Nose To Tail Eating (yeah, I'm gonna start trying to cook some offal), and Knife Skills Illustrated (a useful reference, from my brother).

Posted by Barzelay at 11:24 PM | Comments (2)

December 20, 2007

EatFoo: Pan-Roasted Lamb Loin with Goat Cheese Bread Pudding, Beets Three Ways, and Asparagus

For my birthday dinner, we splurged on a whole lamb loin ($35). I really, really love lamb. Half a lamb loin each is pretty decadent eating by my current standards. So, I had some fun in the kitchen pairing it with some stuff and trying some new things. More details on EatFoo.

Posted by Barzelay at 1:54 AM | Comments (2)

December 6, 2007

EatFoo: More Spherification

In addition to this grapefruit noodle, I also made some mint caviar, and attempted to make a spherified version of broiled grapefruit! Weird stuff. Check it out at EatFoo. Tomato noodles are coming up next, for spaghetti with marinara, hold the sauce, keep the marinara.

Posted by Barzelay at 1:51 AM | Comments (0)

December 2, 2007

EatFoo: Spherified Sweet Tea "Ravioli" with Lemon

In response to Chris's comment on my Farrah Olivia post where he asks about my experience with odd gelling agents, I did this experiment today: spherification of sweet tea using sodium alginate and calcium chloride. Very cool.

Posted by Barzelay at 11:26 PM | Comments (0)

EatFoo: Roasted Red Bell Pepper Bisque

Roasted red bell pepper bisque at EatFoo.

Posted by Barzelay at 2:44 AM | Comments (0)

Posting On EatFoo Again. Yummy.

I started posting on EatFoo again. Roasted Cornish game hens and some other stuff. Check it out at EatFoo.

Posted by Barzelay at 2:12 AM | Comments (0)

November 29, 2007

Farrah Olivia, Chef Morou's Restaurant

On our two-year anniversary, Jeanette and I went to Farrah Olivia, the restaurant of Chef Morou Outtara. You may know him from such shows as The Next Iron Chef, or NPR Food. The style of his restaurant is New American with West African influence, and it's mostly some damn delicious food.

While Morou's food isn't at the pinnacle of sophistication (Le Bernardin?), nor does it have the layers and layers of subtlety of such a restaurant, it is nevertheless elegant and complex. His dishes are not designed, like those of many top restaurants, to "challenge" his diners. And that's Morou's greatest strength: he isn't above a crowd-pleaser. Indeed, go to the menus on the website linked to above and read the entrees. One doesn't read them and wonder how such a dish could possibly be good (like one might at WD-50 or The Fat Duck). Nearly every one of them instantly looks like it will be a fucking flavor party so delicious that you'll be licking your plate afterward. And mostly, they deliver.

First of all, we got a great recommendation on a Meritage from our waiter. That was one of the high points of service, as he had basically no clue about any of the (admittedly, fairly high-level) questions I asked about the food prep, and he was also quite glib the entire time. But the wine was absolutely amazing. I also loved the wine list. For each varietal (and a list of blends) it had wines at every price level--literally a bottle at $30, 40, 50, 60, 70, 80, 90... Spending a bit more doesn't mean you'll enjoy the wine more, but it does help you center in on what you can afford. Anyway, I really, really loved this wine.

Warm bread was served with four different spreads, instead of the usual butter. There was honeyed butter (awesome), bok choy pesto (meh), sundried tomato spread (Jeanette's favorite), and horseradish and cottage cheese (weird, and I don't like either of those ingredients, normally, but it was actually not bad).

We got an amuse bouche of truffled, cured ham with corn flan and some kind of mushroom sauce. This was a good indicator of what was to come, with deconstructed dishes, every component of which could be enjoyed on its own, and which usually came together pretty well, too.

Appetizers were delicious. Cinnamon roasted quail with (cured?) mission figs ingeniously wrapped around quail legs for finger-food appeal, a fuyu and persimmon "yolk" (probably a soidum alginate-based spherification of a puree) that was delicious, spiced port reduction, and a small salad of apple, feta, and something. The quail was served boneless, and was not as tender as I imagined it to be, but everything was spot-on flavorwise. And again, what a crowd-pleaser.

Butter-poached lobster with tapioca and roasted banana cream was good, but there was way too much bland tapioca. Luckily, eating around it was easy, and everything else was delicious. You know how when you eat bananas, there's that certain odd tartness in your mouth that you don't really get from many other things (passionfruit has a similar, but different thing going on)? Well, that goes really well with butter (Bananas Foster, anyone?) and they both go really well with lobster.

Deconstructed caesar salad was very good, with parmesan flan, crushed croutons, and fresh sardines (salty, but not pickled like the icky, canned ones). There wasn't even close to enough lettuce to eat with the quantity of the other ingredients, and the only reason I can think of for this dearth was that the Chef liked the pretty presentation when it was only four small leaves of romaine. Nevertheless, this was an appetizer salad, not an entree salad, and by the end, we were by no means hurting for quantity. What was here was really tasty, but other than being deconstructed, and using great ingredients, it didn't offer much of a spin on the usual caesar salad. Parmesan flan was good, but not enough of a twist.

The entrees were both excellent, with few flaws. Slow-roasted lamb with palm fruit BBQ sauce couldn't possibly not be good. It was served with palm oil powder (I guessed powderized with maltodextrin, which the Chef later confirmed), a very faithful version of Southern collard greens (all the way down to the lack of seasoning), a fried dauphine-type thing, and, in a twist on the typical mint jelly with lamb combo, there was clear mint "caviar" on the plate. The mint caviar was another example of what must have been a minty sodium alginate solution dripped into a calcium chloride bath to form spheres with a gel skin. Problem is, these were either left too long in the calcium bath, or were made too long before the dish was served, because these were gelled all the way through and didn't "pop" in your mouth like I assume was intended. Nevertheless, everything was perfect except the texture of the mint caviar, and it all went together very well. The palm powder was an excellent counterpoint to the barbecue sauce, and the lamb would have been great even without any adornment.

The other entree was spice-rubbed venison loin (yes, we got a lot of game to go with our lovely Meritage) with a port-reduction, wild mushrooms and baby onions, and sweet-potato fritters. Venison was cooked perfectly rare (at our request) and everything else was exquisite. A perfect (and very satisfying) dish.

For dessert, I opted for the lemon cheesecake with candied citrus segments (lemon and maybe sour orange) and thyme syrup. The thyme syrup was good but superfluous, but Jesus Christ the cheesecake and candied lemon went together well. When tasted on its own the cheesecake was great, the candied lemon a bit too tart, but when alternating bites between the two, they worked together so well! This was really inspiring. Every bite had a delicious palate cleanser followed by a blast of creamy richness. Eaten this way, it was like every bite of the cheesecake was tasting it for the first time. So good.

The other was an apple strudel with coriander caramel, sour cream ice cream (delicious), and cherry-apricot compote. The apple strudel itself was good, but nothing special. Every one of the supporting players, however, was excellent. I've seen sour cream ice cream (or buttermilk ice cream, or scalded milk ice cream) on menus all over the place, but it was so good. I actually think this dish would have been better without the apple strudel. It didn't detract, but didn't add anything either, except for taking up a lot of plate space.

Finally, we were given little mignardises that were nothing memorable.

After our meal, I asked whether I could have a quick kitchen tour, and though the waiter said they normally don't do it, he asked and got permission. So we were escorted to the kitchen where we were immediately introduced to Morou himself (as if that was the only reason we wanted the kitchen tour--because we'd seen him on TV--I guess they get that a lot now, but I swear I really just wanted to watch the kitchen work for a minute). Morou was very gracious, talkative, and jovial. I discussed the palm powder with him for a minute or two, and he offered to give me some of his maltodextrin (I had some at home already--yeah, I'm ridiculous). Jeanette talked Next Iron Chef with him. Jeanette and I also loved John Besh, and it turns out Morou did, too. He clearly thought Besh should have won. As I said, Morou seemed like a great guy, and he'd be a lot of fun to work with.

Overall, there were some flaws, but the guy can put together a meal that satisfies like no other. Like I said, he isn't above pleasing the crowd, but he does it in his own way. You want the mint jelly? Fine, here are little chemical-reaction-created spheres of mint jelly. You want a Caesar salad? Fine, here's a deconstructed Caesar. As long as everything tastes as delicious as it did, diners are going to be willing to forgive all the tiny details that weren't quite there yet. But this is definitely one of the top five restaurants in the DC area.

Posted by Barzelay at 2:24 AM | Comments (3)

November 27, 2007

Does Soy Sauce's Flavor Gradually Dissipate?

Have you ever noticed this phenomenon? You put soy sauce on your rice, begin eating, it's delicious, but then five minutes into the dish, you find that it no longer has enough soy sauce flavor? I have noticed this with multiple brands of soy sauce. So I conducted some experiments.

First I thought the rice might just be absorbing some of the soy sauce, dulling the overall soy-sauce flavor of my bites. So I tried it on things other than rice. Still happened.

Second I thought I might simply be building up a tolerance to the soy sauce very quickly. The same thing can happen with plain old salt: by the end of a very salty meal, it no longer tastes all that salty. But that effect can usually be negated by interspersing bites or drinks of a palate-cleansing astringent. So I tried the same with soy sauce. Every few bites of your soy-sauce-flavored food, take a minute to cleanse your palate, say, by sucking on a lemon, or by eating some bitter greens, or drinking some water mixed with baking soda (strongly basic). The soy-sauce flavor still dissipates!

It isn't too hard to believe that a very aromatic food gradually loses its volatile flavor and smell compounds--it happens to everything. That's why freshly ground spices, or coffee, taste much better than those bought pre-ground; the volatile chemicals that provide the aromas and flavors are gradually lost once the whole spices, or whole beans, are ground. But in the case of soy sauce, it seems less likely.

First, soy sauce is usually stored in bottles that are not airtight. If it loses so much flavor within five minutes of pouring it out of the bottle, why doesn't it lose more flavor in the two years that it sits in the cabinet? Obviously when your pour it out it vastly increases the surface area over which the volatile compounds can be lost, but would that cause so much more flavor dissipation than years of sitting in an open bottle, occasionally being shaken?

Second, it happens so quickly! Spices stay fresh for a week or two at least after being ground, and coffee stays fresh for at least a few hours. But maybe because the soy sauce is a liquid, it more efficiently dissipates some of its compounds?

Third, other liquid sauces similar to soy do not dissipate their flavors so quickly. Olive oil, for instance, changes its character immensely over time, but not nearly as quickly as soy. The olive oil you buy in the store is probably several years old. But "freshly-pressed" olive oil, as can be bought from small artisanal makers at farmers' markets, is still fresh (and super fruity and delicious) after a couple months. Fish oil, a sauce that has several things in common with soy sauce (they're both Asian sauces which are fermented and can be stored in non-airtight containers) is basically good forever, as far as I know.

So there remain a few experiments that might confirm my suspicions and further explicate the matter:

1) Prepare four identical dishes, with each containing, say, 1 cup of cooked rice. For two of them, keep the rice hot, and for two of them, let it cool to room temperature. For one of the hot dishes, and one of the cool dishes, pour in 1 tsp soy sauce each. Wait ten minutes. Then for the second hot rice and the second cool rice, pour in 1 tsp soy sauce each. Taste all of them immediately, and compare.

2) Do the same thing with a balsamic vinegar, which is probably one of the most similar sauces to soy (dark color, fermented, similar viscosity and density), but which is considered to improve with age.

3) Try very high-end soy sauces, to see whether they do the same.

4) Explore alternative methods of storing and serving soy sauces. For instance, vacuum-seal the soy sauce in airtight packages which allow very little osmotic transfer. For serving, explore methods in which the flavor of soy is somehow contained and then meted out either over time, or whenever the diner wants it. For instance, spherified soy sauce balls made from dropping small drops of a soy sauce and sodium alginate solution into a calcium chloride bath. Or if one could contain soy sauce in some kind of reversible matrix the same way the proteins in meat coil up during cooking to trap the juices, but then release them when cut or chewed. Any other ideas?

Posted by Barzelay at 2:33 PM | Comments (10)

November 22, 2007

Five Guys @ Five AM

I had to fly out of Reagan National Airport at a ridiculously early time on the day before Thanksgiving. Planning for horrible lines, I got there plenty early for the flight. So I got to my terminal at about 5:45 am. I was hungry for breakfast, so I checked the terminal for some eats.

They had Cinnabon serving cinnamon buns, Auntie Ann's serving breakfast pretzels, Gordon Biersch serving a breakfast menu, some sandwich place that just had croissants for breakfast, a pastry place, etc. But I kept walking, and around the corner was a new place. They have recently installed a Five Guys Famous Burgers & Fries in the airport! And it was open for breakfast!

They had a special "Breakfast" menu up next to their normal menu. It said "Breakfast served 5:00am-11:00am." The breakfast menu looked like this:

$2.25 Bacon
$1.95 Egg
$3.49 Bacon and Egg
$3.25 BLT

*All sandwiches served on hamburger buns
*All sandwiches served with your choice of toppings (see hamburger menu)
*Add a hamburger patty to any breakfast sandwich for $1.00

When I got up to the register I asked whether their full menu was available. It was. So I got a Little Bacon Cheeseburger, Fries, and a Coke, all at 5:50am. Excellent. Another reason to love Five Guys!

Posted by Barzelay at 2:21 PM | Comments (3)

November 21, 2007

Roux Burn

I got my first ever roux burn the other day. I was whisking some brick roux that was going to thicken some gravy. I somehow started to whisk a bit too vigorously, and a bit of the roux splattered onto my arm. Just a tiny spot of roux, maybe 1/64 tsp, but it basically melted many layers of skin wherever it touched me. So now I have this little, deep, spider-bite-looking wound on my arm... and I'm a little proud. It's a battle scar.

I feel like it's a rite of passage for serious cooks, much like the hundreds of small (and sometimes less small) cuts I've sustained while honing my knife skills. At some point, you splash some roux on yourself and burn the shit out of wherever it splatters. Then after that, you're more careful with the roux. And I now have first-hand experience of why roux is sometimes called "Cajun napalm."

Posted by Barzelay at 3:14 AM | Comments (6)

November 13, 2007

Curry Emulsion

Remember that study that found that we can read text even if all the letters are mixed up, as long as the first and last letters are still in place? Well, it's true, and every time I pass by this sign at Georgetown Law, I read it as "curry emulsion," and then it makes me hungry.

Posted by Barzelay at 4:05 AM | Comments (0)

November 10, 2007

Licking Your Knives

Some time around the age of six, when I was finally old enough that I was allowed to cut my own food, I began licking knives. Not all the time, not when company is around, and almost never when out to eat, but sometimes, when little bits of something delicious are clinging to my knife, I'll raise it up to my mouth and lick the knife. My mother was not pleased.

"David!" my mother would say, "you're going to cut your tongue!" I swear she says that every single time I lick a knife, and has done so from my childhood to the present. And I suppose that, when I first began licking knives, I was probably really careful about it. And of course, my mother's everpresent shrieks of fear for my wittle tongue probably made me cautious as well. But after twenty years or so of licking knives, it's now almost automatic. I skilfully brandish the laden knife, and with a flick of my wrist, the knife moves up toward my mouth while my tongue simultaneously prepares for licking. In a single fluid motion, the flat of the blade passes over my tongue while my tongue rasps against it, catching every last bit of flavor before the knife returns to the table. The whole thing lasts an instant, and it's all just muscle memory. I've done it probably 10,000 times (approximately 7000 of which were followed by mother saying, "David! Don't do that! You're going to cut your tongue!"). I'm no longer wary of it, no longer careful.

And then tonight, finally, at long last, I fulfilled my mother's prophecy. For the first time in all my years of casual knife-licking, I cut my tongue!

Of course, it did have to be the sharpest knife I own, a razor sharp Wusthof 8" utility knife that I hone almost daily. Apparently no lesser knife can penetrate my skin. And I'm kinda disappointed, but it was not even a bad cut. It bled slightly for a mere thirty seconds or so. The knife didn't suffer much either. But even if it was barely more than a papercut, it happened! She was finally fucking right. Why, oh why didn't I listen to her? Why didn't I heed her warnings?

Posted by Barzelay at 3:01 AM | Comments (2)

March 12, 2007

Drink Coke Zero, Sucker!

I just tried Coke Zero for the first time, and it freaks me out a little bit. Zero calories? I could eat the bottle and it wouldn't be zero calories. I find it very shady when there are supposedly edible items intended for human consumption that have zero calories.

Substances other than water don't start out with zero calories. Particularly not substances that are so sweet. They start out with bunches of calories, and then chemicals and chemical processes replace the flavorings with calorie-less substitutes. Can you imagine eating a steak, medium-rare, made entirely out of gelatinized, colored water? What kind of crazy chemicals have to go into the beverage to eliminate all those calories?

Earlier today I saw a homeless person sleeping underneath a Coke Zero advertisement. That advertisement was what prompted me to try Coke Zero. But perched, as it was, over a starving bum, it was as if Coca-Cola advertising execs were taunting this malnourished hobo, "Drink Coke Zero, dumbass!" and then snickering. I imagine them airdropping thousands of cases of Coke Zero over Ethiopia, telling them to drink up, and also don't forget to look under the caps for Coke Rewards prizes! And when the starving Ethiopians look under the cap, there's a message that says, "Joke's on you, suckers! Drink Coke, Play Again." It's a testament to the level of leisure in our society that we are expending massive amounts of capital on foodstuffs that offer as a selling point their total lack of nutrition.

It even says on the label, as if they're proud of the fact, that Coke Zero is "[n]ot a significant source of fat cal., sat. fat, trans fat, cholest., fiber, sugars, vitamin A, vitamin C, calcium and iron." So then what is it a significant source of? Dreams? Illusions? Slimmer waists, bigger breasts, longer penises? I am reminded of a quote from a 1948 law review article about the societal utility of advertising.

"The economist, whose dour lexicon defines as irrational any market behavior not dictated by a logical pecuniary calculus, may think it irrational to buy illusions; but there is a degree of that kind of irrationality even in economic man; and consuming man is full of it." Ralph S. Brown, Jr., Advertising And The Public Interest: Legal Protection Of Trade Symbols, 57 Yale L.J. 1165 (1948)

Imagine that you survive a plane crash in the wilderness, and you and the few survivors crawl over the wreckage in a desperate search for sustenance. Suddenly, Gary, one of the other survivors, yells out triumphantly from some point on the other side of the crash site, because he's found one of the plane's food containers. "Guys! Guys I've found it! We're saved! We're--ah, fuck. It's Coke Zero."

I realize that, in truth, Coke Zero and all other calorie-less products are not really calorie-free, they are just so low in calories per serving as not to reach one calorie. It's like having a low sperm count. Coke Zero probably won't knock you up, but I'd still make it wear a condom if I were you. And so if you ever find yourself starving in the wilderness, you could always guzzle several hundred twenty-ounce Coke Zeros to make a decent meal. But it would be easier just to eat the other survivors. And I suppose you could wash Gary down with one of the aspartame-sweetened bottles of carbonated water and caramel coloring. But I don't recommend it.

Instead, I recommend Coca-Cola Classic. You also can't live off of it, but at least it does what food is logically supposed to do in an ordered world: make you fat. I am highly suspicious of any food that will not make you fat in sufficient quantities. Butter will make you fat in sufficient quantities. Broccoli will make you fat in sufficient quantities. Lettuce in sufficient quantities, as everyone knows, will turn you into a bunny rabbit, but if you were a bunny rabbit, you would definitely be a fat bunny rabbit. On the other hand, Coke Zero, in sufficient quantities, will just give you cancer and an odd rubber-like chemical aftertaste. I want my food to give me a spare tire, not to taste like a spare tire.

Posted by Barzelay at 2:25 PM | Comments (11)

February 6, 2007

BoingBoing Links EatFoo's Miracle Fruit Posts!

Jacob apparently submitted the miracle fruit posts to BoingBoing (the most widely read blog on the internet), and they gave us the linky. That means ++Popularity, and --Server. I then got about sixty emails asking for the contact info of the miracle fruit guy, until I finally posted it. Interestingly, one of the emailers also said:

If you're interested in another plant which dramatically affects sweetness, try the herb Gymnema sylvestre (commonly known as gurmar, or "sugar destroyer"). Placing an extract of the herb on your tongue will almost completely eliminate one's ability to detect sweetness. However, I wouldn't recommend a tasting party based on it... eating a banana after taking gymnena is particuarly gross experience, for example)

Posted by Barzelay at 1:12 AM | Comments (3)

February 5, 2007

Miracle Fruit Provider

The guy from whom I got the miracle fruit (a.k.a. my dealer) was very nice and called me today to make sure everything had gone well with the miracle fruit. I asked him whether it was alright if I gave out his contact info, and he said that would be great. He's quite the zealot. In his words, "Some day there will be miracle fruit in every household!"

He charged actual overnight shipping charges from Ft. Lauderdale, FL ($18.80 to D.C.), plus $5 handling. Then it was $1 per fruit. I got 75 fruits, so my total order came to $98.80, and I paid him by Paypal. So, here's how to get your very own miracle fruit. I suspect that he had no idea how inundated he was going to be, but oh well. He posted his contact info here, anyway, so here goes:

Curtis Mozie 410 SW 29th Terrace Ft. Lauderdale, FL 33312 U.S.A.

Telephone: +1-954-587-3766
Mobile: +1-954-270-7884

Miracle fruit trees, fruit, and seeds or seedlings available by request.

Also available by email at pearlcurtmozie AT bellsouth d.o.t. net

[Crossposted at Eat Foo]

Posted by Barzelay at 9:57 PM | Comments (27)

February 4, 2007

Post-Rapture Miracle Fruit Recap

Miracle fruit is not mind-blowing, but it's very, very cool. If you have the choice, go for the magic mushrooms, but otherwise miracle fruit is one of the weirdest food-induced experiences one can have. It's like some weird new experiment from Willy Wonka's factory, only Willy Wonka is some shady horticulturist from Fort Lauderdale known to the world only through his cryptic messages on obscure gardening blogs. But he came through.

The miracle fruit experience itself was awesome. I've tried it three times now. The fruits definitely vary in potency, although I don't know whether the potency is altered by what one has eaten before the miracle fruit. Some people seemed to have a more mild experience, and others' tastes were drastically altered. No one got a dud. Even the three times I tried it, it was different each time. The first time was more mild, the second (at the party) was quite dramatic, and the third was more mild again.

Limes tasted like lime candy, lemons like lemonade, and meyer lemons and red grapefruit were some of the most tasty things I've ever eaten in my life. On the other hand, pineapples and kiwi were cloying, coffee was mostly unchanged, and wine was just plain disgusting. It was clever of Abi to bring a very nice bottle that purported to have grapefruit as one of its primary flavor notes; unfortunately, the miracle fruit didn't allow one to taste any of the acids and sour notes that play on one's tongue when one drinks wine. So it tasted like a really, really cheap white wine. It turned what was supposedly a delicious bottle into Franzia, or, worse, bum wine. Oh well. Miracle fruit giveth, and miracle fruit taketh away.

I also decided to get some goat cheese because of its distinctive sourness. I picked up some of my absolute favorite cheese in the world, Humboldt Fog, which is sold near my house at Brookville Grocery in Cleveland Park for, amazingly, far less per pound than it costs to buy an entire five-pound wheel directly from Cypress Grove Chevre. A five-pound wheel is $85 ($17/pound) direct from the farm (plus shipping), while Brookville has quarter-pound sectors at $13.99/pound. It's $20/pound from the cheese counter at Eastern Market, and they have the added cost of being huge assholes. So I got a couple $6 blocks of Humboldt Fog to taste after the bulk of the crowd left my house (sorry guys, it's damn good cheese). And wow, it was amazing with the miracle fruit. The sour flavors were still present but subtler, while the earthy sweetness was enhanced dramatically. I love Humboldt Fog anyway, but it was an entirely new and amazing experience with the miracle fruit. If you ever find a way to give miracle fruit a shot, I highly recommend a good goat cheese.

I also got several different stouts and bitter beers. Guinness was good with it, but the real stars were the more serious stouts. Samuel Smith's Oatmeal Stout (my favorite beer, maybe?) was heavenly, and Brooklyn Brewery's Black Chocolate Stout (a good, but normally very bitter beer) was amazingly smooth and creamy. They both seemed to have more body, and more of a flavorful sweetness than stout normally has. The lovely bitter notes, again, were not entirely masked, so unlike what the miracle fruit did to wine, stout was still stout. It maintained all of its characteristics, the miracle fruit merely altered the dynamics of the characteristics, emphasizing the chocolatey, earthy, malty, and fermenty flavors, while smoothing out the bitterness. Many people in attendance described the chocolate stout as tasting "just like ice cream."

Overall, it was a blast. Everyone had fun, and no one reported any ill effects. And even though the miraculous effect only lasted about half an hour, I will never taste citrus the same way again. It may be impossible for one to realize how much sweetness is present in citrus until one has had the sourness chemically masked. Lemons and limes are full of natural sugars, salts, and acids, but those flavors are normally pretty well-hidden behind the tartness. Now that I've tasted them, however, I think I will always be able to detect those flavors in them. It's like those magic eye posters, or most riddles... they're sometimes tough to "get," but when you've seen them once or heard the answer, it's easy to find again and it makes perfect sense.

Jacob has a full write-up at Eat Foo (cross-posted to his site), and Abi posted some photos. Martin of Boztopia was in attendance and made some brief remarks about his (apparently less dramatic) experience. And Natasha of Eat Foo was also there, so maybe she'll post a write-up as well. If you have the chance, you should definitely give it a try some time. And if you want to order some, email me and I'll give you contact info for the source from whom I got the miracle fruit you can get it from this guy.

[Crossposted at Eat Foo.]

Posted by Barzelay at 9:53 PM | Comments (5)

January 29, 2007

Minds Blown, $1

Aaaaand, I've got a source for miracle fruit. I'm gonna order a bunch of it, and the marginal cost for ordering extra is only $1 per fruit. So, here's the plan:

Everyone who wants to try miracle fruit can come over on Saturday around 9:00pm. I'll have a bunch of sour and bitter foods for tasting, but you should plan on eating dinner before you come. You can just kick in one measly buck for your very own miracle fruit. So... who's in? Anyone can come, even if we've never met. Just leave a comment and I'll drop you an email to confirm (I'm david at barzelay D.O.T. net).

After the miracle fruit experience, we can party with the alcohol that you should also bring if you wish.

Posted by Barzelay at 8:20 PM | Comments (7)

January 28, 2007

I Believe In Miracle Fruit

I read with excited bewilderment this article about a tasting of "Miracle Fruit." One chews the fruit and coats one's tongue with the pulp, then swallows, making sure not to swallow the seed. And then, for a couple hours, everything one tastes is changed by the fruit. Sours taste sweet, and hidden flavors come out of ordinary foods. Lemons and limes taste extraordinarily sweet. Bland cake is transformed into a flavorful experience. Chemotherapy patients suddenly regain their appetites. Lepers cast off their wrappings and break into choreographed dance. Water turns into boxed wine, and Lazarus rises from a night of heavy drinking with a splitting headache. Apparently, it also works wonders for diabetics. It is an entirely unique and wonderful experience. And it's banned by the FDA.

Imagine the culinary implications! Nearly everything one eats contains salt, either naturally or, if not, the chef adds it. The reason is that salt "brings out" the flavors. Without salt, we cannot taste nearly as wide a range of flavors as we do unless salt is present. Of course, too much salt overpowers the flavors. But without some level of salt, everything is extremely bland. What if there are amazing heights of flavor yet to be climbed, reachable only with the aid of miraculin, the active ingredient in miracle fruit?

For that matter, imagine the sexual implications! I can only guess that my sex life would improve if my semen tasted like crème anglaise. It's a win-win situation for everyone, really. Slipping some drunk person a miracle fruit rufie before taking them home could only result in happiness all around.

But Jesus, how does something like this exist and the public remain unaware? It turns out that Uncle Sam is drinking buddies with Big Sugar. Concrete information is scarce, but from what I can copy and paste, it sounds like cane sugar alone is a multi-billion-dollar, international industry. And when it comes to artificial sweeteners... well, you get the point. On the eve of the launch of a business venture centered around miracle fruit, the FDA application was denied, despite all the talks having been entirely favorable, tons of testing having been done without incident, and no known ill effects. As a result, miracle fruit cannot legally be sold in the United States. But it can be, and is sold elsewhere in the world, which is how the Athanasius Kircher Society got to taste it.

And now I want it. I have made contact with someone who purports to be able to ship the wondrous fruit, though I have yet to determine whether he will ship this far North, and at what cost. If that fails, I will seek out one of the few places that will sell miracle fruit seeds, and grow one myself. Nothing will stand in the way of my miracles. For more, read this, and this, and this.

Posted by Barzelay at 11:47 PM | Comments (17)

August 7, 2006

Scharffen Berger Chocolate Factory Tour

I toured the Scharffen Berger Chocolate factory in Berkeley.

»» Continue reading "Scharffen Berger Chocolate Factory Tour"

Posted by Barzelay at 3:10 AM | Comments (0)

July 25, 2006

Sonoma County wine tasting

Intern outing to wine country! Brief wine write-up at EatFoo.

Seghesio

Ridge

Teldeschi

Passalacqua

Unti

Fritz

Posted by Barzelay at 8:12 AM | Comments (2)

July 4, 2006

Creme Brulee

Note: This post is also posted at the brand-new food blog I started at EatFoo, to which I and many of my friends will be contributing, as promised. For now, I'll still be cross-posting *some* of my entries. At least the ones where I include pretty pictures. Comment over there.

I first had creme brulee at a Ruth's Chris during high school and instantly fell in love. I had the good fortune to date a wealthy girl with generous parents. I ate a ton of great food that I could not otherwise have afforded (at least not until I have that law firm job). And I've never gone back. Since then, I've had a lot better taste in food, and have developed my culinary techniques in a large part to be able to eat the way I was occasionally able to, but without paying for it. But I'm not so poor--I managed to purchase a kitchen torch at an outlet mall ($20). I'd had my eyes on them for a while, having made several decent attempts at making creme brulee and pining for a handheld propane caramelizing device. This was the first time I had a chance to try it out.

Creme brulee is such a simple dessert, but is so delicious, and seems to occupy a sort of mystical place within American culture. Unlike for the French, this is no everyday dessert for us. We view the sugar crust with wary interest, wondering what sort of culture would create something so delicate and restrained. "But... where's the chocolate?" we ask. We're all the more bewildered by the dessert's size. Which American among us is willing to sacrifice his elephantine hunk of chocolate wall layer cake with ganache in favor of this tiny yellow dish? So many Americans have yet to try creme brulee, but awareness of it trickles into our culture from French movies and our more cultured or well-off friends, and so its reputation grows without actually ever inundating us to the point that we cease seeing it as something special. Which makes it all the more easy to impress with it.

Having since eaten at perhaps five or six other Ruth's Chris locations, I can say that the Ruth's Chris in Tampa was a shining star of Ruth's sky. They made delicate spun sugar toppings for their creme brulee, while other locations were content to serve theirs without (not that there's anything wrong with that). I'm positive that my jaw dropped the first time I saw one of those sugar toppings (and I'm positive that it looked at least 3.7 bajillion times better than mine does). For all the years since, I wondered (constantly--that's all I've done for the last eight years) about this spun sugar, not knowing what it was called or how to google for it, but finally I figured it out. I finally happened upon it unexpectedly while reading some wholly unrelated recipe. And so it trickled into my consciousness accidentally and gracefully, just as creme brulee is finally doing into the American consciousness.

For the recipe and the how-to, head over to the post on EatFoo.

Posted by Barzelay at 5:34 AM

July 3, 2006

EatFoo.com is hereby unveiled

Alright, kids, it's time to unveil a project I've been working on since I made this promise.

It's a group food blog called "EatFoo" at www.eatfoo.com.

As I mentioned a couple months ago, I'm never entirely sure whether my food posts here fit with the rest of the blog, and I wanted to provide a place for people to share all about food, since it is one of my greatest loves. So I built EatFoo. Read this page about EatFoo for more details about the site, as well as a listing of authors. So far, we have eight writers, five of whom are D.C. affiliated, and all of whom are at least semi-experienced bloggers.

So go check it out. For now, I'll be cross-posting here (probably with a day delay), at least when I post things with pretty pictures and such. Expect that to dwindle here, and start checking EatFoo instead. I'm pretty excited about this, so I highly recommend you add it to your RSS feeds. I think it's going to be pretty awesome. If you're interested in writing for EatFoo, let me know. The more the merrier, I think (until it stops getting merrier, at which point, we'll have to deal with the problem).

Posted by Barzelay at 7:02 AM | Comments (2)

June 22, 2006

Bacon-Flavored Bottled Water

And my life is officially complete.

Some might protest, saying, "But David, that bottled water is for dogs and cats!" But their words will be lost in the imagined crackle of bacon frying on the stove of my mind, as I guzzle crisp, salty bacon from a bottle of clear liquid pleasure. And hey, the doggie nutrients can't hurt, right?

Oh, and as I've said before, pet people are completely ridiculous.

"Molli’s Choice is the first national premium bottled water for your cat or dog. Our purified waters are enhanced with nutrients specifically formulated for the health of your pet. We offer both unflavored water and a selection of subtle and sophisticated flavors to keep even the most discriminating pet properly hydrated."

"Molli's Choice distinctive flavors will appeal to your pets' senses with scents that will reward them with healthy nutrients, regardless of diet type. Your dogs can enjoy our Original water or Beef Tenderloin, Bacon Delight, Roasted Chicken or Roasted Turkey flavor. Your Cats will savor the flavors of Roasted Chicken, Roasted Turkey, Beef Tenderloin and Original."

Via Epicurious Editor's Blog.

Posted by Barzelay at 2:33 PM | Comments (5)

May 11, 2006

Seafood Etouffee over Rice

Etouffee is one of my absolute favorite dishes to eat, and more recently, to cook. I first had etouffee when my Aunt Charlotte's cajun parents came to the Pensacola beach house at which my family was vacationing, along with all my Aunts, Uncles, and cousins on my mother's side. I was probably around ten at the time. I remember quite a bit about that vacation. I was fascinated when we found a number of gigantic portugeuse man-o-wars. My cousin Justine had a Game Boy that I got to play with (a novel thing, at that time--oh, how I loved Tetris).

It was great being around all that family, but the single memory that is most vivid about that vacation was the day Aunt Charlotte's parents made Crawfish Etouffee. I loved it. And ever since, I occasionally persuaded my mother to make Chicken Etouffee from a boxed mix by Luzianne brand. The etouffee from every brand but Luzianne is horrible, but Luzianne's is pretty good. And though I've graduated to making my own etouffee from scratch now, and moved up to shrimp and fish from chicken, I still can't get crawfish cheap enough or easy enough to really complete the dish. Oh well. This stuff is still amazing.

This recipe uses seafood, but you could really use any kind of meat. Or none. It's undoubtedly best with crawfish, if you can get them. Whatever kind of meat you're using, you want about a pound to a pound and a half. Here, I divide that up evenly between shrimp, and whatever kind of fish I can afford.

»» Continue reading "Seafood Etouffee over Rice"

Posted by Barzelay at 6:38 AM | Comments (5)

Making a Roux

A roux is an essential ingredient for many cajun dishes, including one of my absolute favorites, etouffee (Seafood Etouffee recipe to come very soon). The basic principle of a roux is to mix some kind of fat with flour. It can be used as a thickening agent for gravies, a base for a bechamel, a base for etouffee and gumbo, or as a base for lots of other interesting creations and fusion stuff. And there are lots of kinds of rouxs. Some people use bacon fat and flour, others use some type of oil and flour. When thickening gravy, I just mix flour with water (a "cowboy" roux). But in my opinion (formed more by theft from other recipe sources than extensive experimentation), the proper roux for etouffee, jambalaya, and other cajun dishes is made with butter. It isn't difficult, but it does take a little time if you want to do it right.

»» Continue reading "Making a Roux"

Posted by Barzelay at 5:51 AM | Comments (4)

April 27, 2006

Sauteed Basa In Dill Cream Sauce, and Asparagus And Shrimp

Yep, another food post. I've decided that a modified version of Chris's suggestion is the best solution to the food problem. It will also maybe grant Cara's request.

What I think I will do is this: I will create a separate group blog (to be revealed some time after finals) for everything food related, and anyone I know can author posts on it. I hope that at least Chris Santoro, Adam, and Cara will be frequent authors. I'll also continue to cross-post any posts I make there on this blog. So, you have that to look forward to.

The other night I made the following things. It was good. Here are the approximate recipes. The first is listed as Sauteed Group with Dill Cream Sauce, but in truth, it is great with damn near every white fish. I actually had it with Asian Basa (or or more likely, Tra), and it was great. Basa ~$4/lb., grouper ~$11/lb.

I don't usually follow recipes, and so when I transcribe mine, I'm doing it from memory and guessing how much of stuff I put in. YMMV.

»» Continue reading "Sauteed Basa In Dill Cream Sauce, and Asparagus And Shrimp"

Posted by Barzelay at 3:07 PM | Comments (5)

April 25, 2006

Desserts, chocolate mousse

Little known fact: I spend tons of time cooking. I love cooking. It's my favorite and most time-consuming hobby besides random internetting. Lately I've been considering starting a separate blog solely about food. It feels to me that posts such as the one you're about to read are out of place on the current incarnation of my blog, but it's a big part of my life. Lest I get made fun of for talking about "dollops" of cream, and pinches of salt, I'm putting the question to you, dear reader. Do you, my general reader, want to hear recipes and tales of my kitchen exploits, and see pictures of the sweet and savory creations, or would you rather it be split off and you can go to a separate address (www.barzelay.net/food?) if you're interested? Let me know.

Anyway, this weekend, I went to a potluck dinner party. I was told that no one was bringing desserts, and that there were around ten people coming, neither of which turned out to be true, but I ran with it. I decided to make four things, mostly just for fun, and then I ended up not being able to take pictures. There turned out to be about twenty-five or thirty people, and two other people who brought brownies, and a pretty decent bread pudding.

• I made two cremes brulees with lots of berries. They looked awesome with the fruit presentation. I'll do it again that way some time and post pictures. The toughest thing about this was that I don't have a torch, so I had to turn on the broiler, and then put the ramekins as close to the heating elements as possible. Still, it took longer than it should have.
• Two molten chocolate cakes with mint fudge sauce and storebought vanilla ice cream. These also turned out well. The sauce was delicious.
• Homemade banana ice cream in a puff pastry shell with chocolate ganache. These turned out okay, but I added more ganache than was necessary or prudent, and the ice cream inside melted a bit because I had to make the desserts beforehand, freeze, and then reheat before serving. Oh well. Still tasted good. Would have been really good if I could have made them right before it. Oh, and I already had the banana ice cream. I didn't make it just for this.



• Chocolate mousse with whipped cream and strawberries. This was excellent. It's funny because this is the only one of the desserts that really required skill, as opposed to just following directions and such, but it probably came out the best. The whipped cream held its structure when folded in, and the end result was light and delicious. In fact, it was so good, that I made it again for tonight's dinner and this time, I've taken pictures. Recipe and pictures below.

Also, some time this week, I'm going to make tiramisu. I've never made it before, but it seems easy enough. I've got the mascarpone and ladyfingers, so if you give a damn about the food posts, look forward to that.

»» Continue reading "Desserts, chocolate mousse"

Posted by Barzelay at 12:26 AM | Comments (10)

April 19, 2006

Not so into the coconuts

Perseverance. That word characterizes my effort over the past weeks to try a food about which I've heard an lot, but not tried any time in memory. Maybe three weeks ago, I saw coconuts in the grocery store. I envisioned their fleshy white meat, and imagined the tasty and sweet juice. I thought of coconut milk, and coconut ice cream, pina coladas, and those little sorbets that come in a coconut shell that you can get from Sam's club. And I relied on the bright yellow sticker on the coconuts that said, "RIPE," selected one, and made my purchase.

But it was not ripe, friends. Indeed, it was decidedly rotten. Along with Zeeshan, Victor, and Jeanette, I ceremoniously opened the coconut. Opening a coconut typically involves poking holes in the eyes in order to let out the juice. But there was no juice. This coconut was as barren as an octogenarian with her tubes tied. But I nevertheless split open the coconut, expecting that perhaps the meat would still be edible. But upon getting the coconut open, a fine layer of mold greeted me all along the inside.

Not to be so easily stymied, Zeeshan phoned Harris Teeter. He explained our problem, and asked pointedly how they would remedy the situation. And he really thought he was getting somewhere when the woman said,

"Hang on, let me connect you with the manager of our Coconut Department."

John, a night-shift employee who claimed to be Harris Teeter's Coconut Department Manager, apologized to Zeeshan with empathy and kindness, and offered to deliver a new, ripe coconut to Zeeshan's door the following morning.

We knew it was almost certainly a joke, but Victor said he was so sure the guy wouldn't deliver a coconut that he'd eat the rind if he did. As soon as Victor left, we of course made plans to go purchase a coconut the next day and claim that the guy had delivered it and Vic had missed him. We ended up being too lazy to follow through with this plan, but it would have been grand to watch Victor try to eat coconut rind.

But the saga continues, friends, for just last week I obtained a second coconut. Thanks to Harris Teeter's wonderful (and so easy to exploit maliciously) quality guarantee, I received the second coconut free. And this coconut, when shaken, had all the hallmarks of a deliciously ripe coconut. I could hear the juice sloshing around inside, and it had a different sound when tapped. So last night, around 4:00am, I decided finally to try it.

I got out my tools, a screwdriver, hammer, and meat cleaver, and spread some paper towels. First I poked the screwdriver through two of the eyes, and drained out the liquid inside. And then I tried it. And it tasted... just like coconut. Like pina colada, without the sweet, without the liquor, and without the pineapple. Just... coconut. In short, pretty unappealing, bordering on gross.

Then I cracked open the shell, which involving some banging with a meat cleaver that was very loud for 4:00am. And I got it open and tried the white fleshy stuff inside, and it tasted... just like coconut. Damn. You know those little white flecks of coconut that fools put on desserts and such? I don't know why I expected the stuff to taste different when fresh, but it did not. It was just hard, bland, slightly sour, and coconutty. Not good.

So the end result of my labors was merely an affirmation of the knowledge that I do not, in fact, like coconut. You'd think I'd have realized that before and not needed to test my faith. Oh well. It's seldom boring to test one's faith, and I can't say it wasn't fun getting that thing open.

Posted by Barzelay at 6:04 PM | Comments (2)

April 17, 2006

Turkey consumed. Not dead yet.

Five and a half hours in the oven, and out popped a wonderful, delicious, succulent, and free turkey. I served it with dressing, mashed potatoes, peas, and, of course, can-shaped cranberry sauce. You must have can-shaped cranberry sauce with turkey. I can't stress that enough. And wow, I love that stuff. Non-perishable cranberry sauce where it plops out from the can into the bowl, a monolithic cylinder of jellied goodness, complete with the lines from the can. Mmmm.

We ate all we could, and got maybe one tenth of the way through it. And then I made turkey soup from the bones. This is going to be turkey week. We haven't suffered any ill effects just yet. Stand by. You'll know we're dead if barzelay.net and jeanette-cetera are never updated again.

Oh, and this was the first time I've ever cooked a full turkey. I feel like it's a rite of passage. I'm finally a real woman.

Posted by Barzelay at 6:50 PM | Comments (1)

That time some scraggly woodsman gave me a frozen turkey

I approached the Bethesda Giant (the mid-range supermarket chain that owns Peapod) last night with a smallish list of items necessary to tide me over until the next big grocery run. My grocery runs are usually of epic proportions, often happen very late at night, almost always feature the wonderful Harris Teeter as my destination, and result in the cooking of many delicious meals in the ensuing week or two. Last night was not such an occasion, though it will result in at least one delicious meal (the leftovers of which may last for the ensuing week or two).

When I pulled into the parking lot of the Giant, I could tell something was amiss. There were only a couple cars. A bad sign. I walked up to the door, and an employee standing outside smoking and waiting for a ride explained that apparently a lot of people in this country believe that, a long time ago on this day, some dead Jewish guy walked out of this little cave and said, "See? I told you so," a short time before flying away into the sky never to be seen again except in nachos and hot chocolate, and because of that, the Giant closed at 8:00pm.

Okay. Well, ten-thousand years ago on this day, this ancient Mesopotamian man was having a really bad day, and needed to buy a bottle of Thunderbird at 9:00pm to drown his sorrows, but all the Giants in the fertile crescent were closed, so instead he invented writing and and actually improved the world. In His honor, I say we should go ahead and keep the grocery stores open until their normal closing time.

Oh well. Moving on... the employee's explanation only lasted a few seconds, after which I noticed a scraggly old man, standing nearby, staring at me. The guy was maybe sixty years old, with a long, stringy white beard and peppered hair, sun-hardened skin, and a dirty gray t-shirt covering his wiry body. And he was looking right at me. As soon as I made eye contact, he said to me in a deep, raspy Southern voice, "You want a turkey?"

I stared at him for a second, and finally asked, "What?"

He looked me up and down. "I said, do you want a turkey? I got this frozen turkey, and I'll give it to you if you want it." At that point he gestured behind my left shoulder.

I turned around and looked, and right behind me was a large trashcan with a flat-topped lid, on top of which was a large, frozen turkey wrapped in grocery bags.

"So," he repeated. "You want it? I ain't gonna use it."

So I said, "Well, thanks, but I think there are probably people who need it more than me."

He shook his head. "Nah. I done asked five or six other people, and no one wants to take it. So if you can use it, you take it. Give it to some family, or just cook it up and eat it yourself."

Ever the skeptic, especially when hobo-looking men try to give me items of value, I asked, "Why don't you cook it up and eat it?"

He looked off into the distance momentarily before saying, "Nah. I do all my cooking out in the woods. So I got this turkey and I can't use it. Why don't you take it?"

At that point I moved closer to the turkey and felt it. It hadn't begun thawing. And then I looked over to the store employee with a questioning glance. He nodded his head, which I interpreted as confirming that the guy had just bought the turkey and that it was okay for me take it and eat it. In retrospect, he may have been nodding to say, "Yeah, the guy's absolutely crazy," and not in any way sanctioning the turkey donation.

So I was confronted with a dilemma. To take the sketchiest turkey in history, or not to take the sketchiest turkey in history. And well... if there's one thing I'm sure of it's that there is a depressed Mesopotamian man in heaven watching over us and saving us from our illiterate sins. But if there are two things I'm sure about, the second is that I would never pass up a free opportunity to cook something delicious. So of course, I took the turkey, and thanked the man.

As I was walking back to my car, without milk, sugar, or laundry detergent, but with a large, frozen turkey, he yelled at me, "Happy Thanksgiving," and then cackled. It occurred to me then to take a picture of him, but when I turned around, he was gone. Seriously.

So now I've got this big turkey thawing in my kitchen. Do you know how much turkey is in a turkey? I mean... it's a shitload of turkey. It's somewhere between ten and fifteen pounds. The weight isn't labeled, and I don't have a scale. Cooking times for such beasts are based on weight, so I considered constructing an elaborate balance to use physics to determine the turkey's weight based on the fixed mass of a 2-pound bag of flour. Then I remembered that it was a FREE turkey given to me by a cackling woodsman outside a closed grocery store. If it comes out a bit dry, oh well.

I'm not sure how much a turkey costs, but I'm pretty sure it's more than $0. So I think I'm making out pretty well on this one. Of course there's always the chance that my philanthropic Appalachian friend poisoned it or something, but I figure the head-nod of a sixteen year-old chain-smoking bag boy who may or may not have been hired because he is slightly mentally handicapped is probably just as safe as FDA approval.

So look out world, because a ten to fifteen pound turkey is coming your way, courtesy of a possibly-homeless mountain man whose campfire apparently lacks the facilities for cooking such a bird. And when I'm savoring the perfectly roasted meat, crispy skin, and flavorful gravy, I'll make sure to bow my head and give thanks to our depressive Mesopotamian god for his gifts of poetry and poultry. Happy Easter, kids. This world is insane.

Posted by Barzelay at 5:53 AM | Comments (7)

March 27, 2006

Bacon almost makes me believe in God

This bacon is too soggy.

My life will be significantly improved if the predictions in this article come to pass. Researchers have cloned pigs that are genetically modified to produce omega-3 fatty acids. That means that things like bacon would be very, very healthy for your heart. Then I wouldn't feel so bad when I fry up a pound of bacon, eat half of it before the rest is finished, and then eat the rest of it on a sandwich. I love bacon.

Oh, and the key is to cook it slowly. Fry it on a lower temperature, and give it it time to get nice and crispy. And then eat lots of it. Because your heart yearns for those omega-3 acids. Right.

Posted by Barzelay at 1:15 AM | Comments (13)

March 12, 2006

Idiotarod 2006 and a nice day at Tryst

This was a very DC day. After auditioning this morning to be an SAT/LSAT teacher for Kaplan (pays well, though infrequently, and perhaps I can teach classes in San Fran if I get the unpaid EFF internship), Jeanette and I went to lunch at Chinatown Express on 6th and H NW. That's the place where a guy is always putting on a show in the window making lai mein noodles by stretching and folding dough over and over again. I'd been craving some Chinese food, and that place is very good, and cheap.

After that, we decided to head out to Adams-Morgan to study at Tryst and then get Ethiopian for dinner since I'd never had Ethiopian before (post on Ethiopian food to come). Tryst is not usually the quietest place , with a hip soundtrack (Sufjan Stevens, the new Belle And Sebastian, The Arcade Fire, etc.), baristi steaming milk, waiters running about, and chatter. But on this occasion we experienced a very peculiar and enjoyable interruption: Idiotarod 2006.

Basically, we were sitting there reading cases for our moot court competition, and every minute or so, a group of five or six drunken idiots would run by, cheering and yelling, dressed in absurd outfits and costumes, while pushing a decorated shopping cart. Very conducive to concentration. With a bit of googling we found this posting on Craigslist [edited for brevity]:

Get SMASHED at the 2006 Idiotarod, D.C.

What the Hell is the Idiotarod Anyway? It's a day of racing, making an ass of yourself, meeting new people, stopping and having chats with some local bartenders, potentially dressing up, and generally having one of the best days of your life.... The race starts with registration and Check-in at the Front Page in Dupont Circle, three checkpoint bars in between and a large party at Tom Tom in Adam's Morgan. Plan to make a fool of yourself, or come and mock your friends. And all in the name of giving back to the community...

A team is comprised of 5 Pullers/Runners, 1 Musher, and one cart. The same 6 team members must start and complete the race, and be present at each checkpoint. You should come up with a catchy team name...there might even be a prize... We will award First, Second, Third, Best Costumes, Best Fundraising and Best Sabotage prizes... For the 2006 D.C. Idiotarod, we have decided to donate funds earned to the Arlington Food Assistance Center (http://www.afacinfo.org/). They don't know they are getting this money yet, so you can't blame them for anything stupid we might do...

I love this idea, and I'm not surprised to hear that it originated in San Francisco, the land of flash mobs, giant pillow fights, the EFF, and more. I so wish that I'd have known about the Idiotarod 2006 in advance. It definitely would have been up my alley. Oh well. In any case, I got some good photos of the event in progress, and some good distraction.

The rest of the day was spent quietly at Tryst, my favorite DC hangout. I used their free wifi, edited my spring appellate brief, read some moot court, and played some Text Twist (so addictive). It was beautiful out, and so they had the whole side facing the sidewalk opened up. A breeze was blowing in, and the natural light from the front as well as from the skylight really made it a nice place to study. This was my first time there during the day. I got some iced coffee, we split a fruit tart, and then I had some more serious coffee drink later in the day. A very pleasurable time. I highly recommend you check Tryst out if you have not yet done so.

Posted by Barzelay at 1:55 AM

March 3, 2006

Berry Napoleons (to wit, Barzberry Napoleon)

I've been going nuts lately with the cooking. Before a couple weeks ago, I hadn't really delved into desserts. I made crazy dinners all the time, but hadn't experienced the joys and frustration of baking, making pastries, caramelizing sugar, emulsifying custards, whipping creams, double-boiling bittersweet chocolate, separating eggs, etc.

Since then I've been making an effort to try various desserts. I've made molten chocolate cake, pineapple-cinnamon sorbet and strawberry sorbet (with the aid of an ice cream maker, obviously), creme brulee (regular and coffee), strawberries jubilee, bananas foster (sans flambe... I am in a dorm room), and probably a few other things that I can't remember. However, I've been remiss in my picture-taking. Tonight I sought to reverse that trend as I concocted a dessert of my own device.

I submit to you Barzberry Napoleon. Three layers of golden puff pastry, interspersed with fresh strawberries, grapes, and chilled, sweetened blackberry yogurt, topped with a decadent yet whimsical sprinkling of powdered sugar. And this time, I took pictures, which I really must do more often.

Posted by Barzelay at 5:37 AM | Comments (6)

March 1, 2006

Hot Dogs

Why are hot dogs so delicious? I liked them as a kid, but pretty much hated them between age eight and age twenty. And then I gloriously rediscovered them, finding that my contraband dorm-room toaster oven made delicious hot dogs quickly. They're perfect for lunch.

Haters might complain about the contents of hot dogs. But I don't even care whether they're all beef franks. I'm on record saying that I'll eat pretty much anything, so it isn't troubling in terms of health.

They're just so great. The perfect hot dog is made as follows:

1. Bake the hot dog.
   
2. Steam the bun.
   
3. Broil the hot dog.
   
4. Toast the bun.
   
5. Add condiments.
   
6. Eat.

Personally, I add a little bit of mustard, a lot of ketchup, and pepper. Clearly, only Heinz ketchup will do. See, there's something fancy even about my taste for hot dogs, albeit fancy ketchup.

Oh, and another thing... ketchup is ketchup. It is not catsup. Catsup is what off-brands make when they're trying to stear clear of real ketchup's trademarks. I don't mean to be an apologist for Big Tomato here, but Heinz ketchup is vastly superior to all other ketchups.

So, hot dogs... what do you think? Merely a delicious food, or transcendent and spiritual mana from heaven?

Posted by Barzelay at 10:30 PM | Comments (10)

November 13, 2005

Free Dinner For The First To Respond

I'm making pork roast, mashed potatoes, salad, gravy, rolls and maybe some other stuff Sunday night. Ryan is going to dinner with family. So, the first two (2) individuals to respond to this blog post get free pork roast dinner. I promise that it will be quite delish. Time is flexible.

Rules: You must be in the DC area to qualify. No one under 18 admitted. Family members of Barzelay employees are ineligible.

UPDATE: S-Con claimed one spot. One left.
UPDATE: I gave the other spot to Ginny. No more spots.

Posted by Barzelay at 3:09 AM | Comments (9)

November 7, 2005

By Request, #3: Barzelay on Barzelay's Kitchen

Jacob requested that I speak about my kitchen.

One of last night's Cornish game hens

I love cooking. It has become perhaps my favorite hobby, and a huge stress reliever. I "learned to cook" from watching my mother, I suppose, though I never really understand it when people say they don't know how to cook. My mother is a wonderful cook, and all my life there were delicious things being cooked in the kitchen every morning and night. People say, "I can't cook," and I say, "What do you mean? You just take raw food and then heat it up."

My mother grew up on a farm in Northwest Florida, in Milton, which was near Pensacola. By the time I came around, it was mostly always just cotton, but I understand that they grew lots of vegetables when my mom was growing up. I remember going up to the farm as a child and picking fresh garlic from the garden for spaghetti sauce. We'd go to her Uncle's dairy farm and have fresh chocolate milk from "Aunt Maureen's" secret recipe, before the cream had been separated from the milk.

Anyway, her cooking is pretty traditionally Southern. Lots of big, hearty meals, where meat always comes with gravy, and you stir a little bacon grease in with the green beans for flavor. She bakes a lot (an area into which I have yet to travel), uses tons of butter, and also fries a lot of things. Her cooking also picked up a little bit of poor, college-dorm practicality from my Dad, who cooked makeshift meals for his college roommates.

My style of cooking often mirrors that of my mother, though mine is a bit healthier only because I needn't worry about pleasing my carnivorous father. Mine is also a bit more fancy and with a hint of gourmet, because I'm kind of snobby about anything that I find it possible to be snobby about (music, movies, wine, grammar, style, etc.).

My kitchen right now is not exactly the kind of setup I'd like. Once I graduate and start making some cash, I'll have the six-burner gas range and all-copper cookware, with a walk-in freezer and a pantry the size of my dorm room. Until then, I have the three-burner, low-power electric range, and the dented Wal-Mart cookware, supplemented by the eighteen cubic inch oven. But I make due. Some things about my cooking:

• Anything I cook on the stove, I use either butter or olive oil in the pan to start with. For chicken I always use olive oil, and for fish I always use butter. Everything else is flexible.
• I use a lot of black pepper, and a little bit of red pepper. I rarely add salt to things until they're on my own plate at table, because I tend to use ingredients that are salty (salted butter, for instance).
• I almost always make gravy with a roux. A roux is technically a mixture of flour and oil or fat. I instead use a thick mixture of flour and water. I add a bit of water to a pan in which I've just baked or broiled meat, and transfer the pan onto a burner on medium heat. Then I de-glaze the pan (scrape up all the stuff stuck to it and include all that stuff in the juices). Then once that mixture boils, I start adding my roux, very slowly, and stirring constantly. And I do mean constantly. Adding the roux to the juices satisfies the fat component of our roux. Keep doing that until it thickens to the desired consistency. If you've added too much water, wait a minute for it to boil off. Next, get really fat from eating it.
• Any time I cook beef, pork, or fish on the stove (and often chicken as well), I cook it on high heat. Otherwise it toughens the meat up, makes fish break apart, and turns the meat to a pallid color. This is probably the biggest peeve I have when I see other people my age cook.
• I always put some sort of sweet fruit in my salads, to balance out a tangy vinaigrette. I like sliced strawberries, grapes, apples, or kiwis. In addition, I oddly prefer to eat my salad after the rest of the meal, though I don't enforce these rules at my table. I've now been told that eating salad after the meal is very European, but it just makes more sense to me.

It's tough to give recipes, because I never follow them. I experiment a lot, and just sort of add the things that seem right, and in whatever amounts seem to work. When I do work from a recipe, I do so very loosely, adding, leaving out, and substituting things whenever I like. In any case, I'm not so presumptious as to think myself worthy of posting recipes and cooking pointers. If anyone wants to know how I make something, let me know and I'll try to write down a followable recipe for you.

Posted by Barzelay at 2:58 AM | Comments (8)

October 1, 2005

Slaughtering fruit flies

Someone asked about how to get rid of a fruit fly problem. I had a fruit fly problem a couple times in McGill since I cooked a lot and sometimes threw food out in my dorm trash can, which I seldom emptied. I took the time to describe to her how I got rid of them, and made a diagram, so I figured I'd post it here as well. So, if you have fruit flies (they are little gnat-looking things that fly around quickly because you have been leaving food out), follow these steps.

To prevent them, or prevent them from breeding or returning:

1. Clean up the area
2. Take out the trash