Since picking up a bottle of orange bitters from German company The Bitter Truth, I’ve been putting a few drops in pretty much every cocktail I make, and liking the results. Like all bitters, they bring an element of balance to the cocktail, but I’m really digging the hint of orange peel, cardamom, and caraway they sneak into the background of the drink. I still want to pick up two more Bitter Truth products: the celery bitters and “Jerry Thomas’ Own Decanter Bitters,” based on the famed 19th-century bartender’s recipe. They are on the pricey side, but if you’re having fun nerding out on making cocktails at home, they’re fun to play with.
These bitters are not widely available yet in the U.S., but you can order them direct from the company’s site (you’ll need a Paypal account). Bitter Truth co-founder Stephan Berg says they are also available at DeLaurenti Specialty Food in Seattle, and Cask in San Francisco, and Boston Chowhounds report finding them at the Boston Shaker.
Surely we’re not the first to tell you that fat is a vehicle for flavor, hence the reason cooking flavorful, low-fat food is such a challenge. Here in the test kitchen, our flavor vehicles of choice are those you can access easily and consistently: butter, olive, and canola oil. But when we start playing around with dishes that call for the less common fats, we don’t shy away, because the right fat for the right preparation—schmaltz for matzo balls being a prime example—is the right way to make it just like grandma.
This week, we’re elbow deep in ethnic recipes that require those other fats: chopped liver, tamales, braised lamb shanks, etc. Needless to say, flavor’s coming out of our ears at this point. So far we’ve played around with seven different fats, having already used olive oil, canola oil, unsalted butter, duck fat, lard, schmaltz, and lamb fat. But we’ll make it to number eight by week’s end, as we still have to zero in on some shortening. Glad to see we’re not alone in our love for the fatty stuff.
Our friends at the CBS Early Show sent this clip over, and I liked Chef Frank Stitt’s approach to comfort food: double the meat. He braises both short ribs and oxtails in one pan, and offers some good tips for braising techniques, like putting a layer of parchment paper directly on top of the food, then covering the pan with foil so that the moisture is really locked in; and not letting the braising liquid boil or else the sauce will end up cloudy.
My mind never strays far from doughnuts, so I was stoked to find this video on Current that examines the late-night doughnut scene in San Francisco. I had previously enjoyed filmmaker Matt Fisher’s other videos, especially a piece on his urban beekeeping operation, so the bar had definitely been set high.
About one minute into the video, I almost spit out my coffee onto my keyboard. First, Fisher attempts to explain the socioeconomic distinctions in sweet consumption by claiming that rich people eat “vegan pastries” while poor people eat “trans-fat-laden, sugar-dipped doughnuts.” Last time I checked, only vegan people eat vegan pastries. And there’s a reason that culinary doughnut shops like Dynamo (which creates flavors like caramel fleur de sel and lemon pistachio) exist.
Fisher also claims that late-night doughnut shops are for drug addicts. Yes, this is San Francisco, there are drug addicts all over the place, but I’ve been in all the doughnut shops he’s been into and I’d say they’re mostly filled with lonely people. If they were 30 years younger and had MacBooks they’d probably be in a coffee shop.
And finally, Fisher entangles himself in a some sort of claim against independent-store owners and workers at doughnut shops because according to a report by the Los Angeles Times, about 75 percent of the stores are owned by Cambodians who don’t speak English. Hey Matt, why don’t you say hello to Aya at Bob’s Donuts next time you visit. Last time I checked I can’t speak Khmer and our conversation about your video went over just fine (plus she’s Japanese, not Cambodian).
Eating doughnuts is nothing to feel guilty about; neither is eating them at a late-night establishment (Bob’s, which is my favorite, has new batches coming out every night at around midnight, and a great counter to sit at). At the very least, you have to admit that you get a ping of excitement when you walk into a room and see that signature pink box filled to the brim with old-fashioneds and maple bars, right?
I am still excited to see an investigative piece on the SF doughnut scene, but maybe next time it can make a little more sense. For now, maybe Matt should go back and check on those bees—he could use the inspiration.
Eric Felten published an amusing look at fictional cocktails from cartoons, movies, and books this week over at the Wall Street Journal. It’s a good read, and you have to love the fact that Felten has taken the subject of Flanders Planter’s Punch from The Simpsons (“three shots of rum, a jigger of bourbon, and just a little dab-a-roo of crème de cassis for flavor”) seriously enough to analyze it next to the traditional Planter’s Punch recipe:
“A traditional Planters Punch is made of rum, fresh lime juice and sugar syrup. The Ned Flanders version adds bourbon, which is an interesting variation, and then substitutes a sweet fruit liqueur (the crème de cassis) for the sugar syrup, which is a standard strategy for personalizing a classic. But what’s missing from Ned’s concoction is the lime juice necessary to balance the sweetness of the cassis. That, and sensible portions.”
The fanatical food geniuses at the Art of Eating plunge into the topic of charcuterie in the magazine’s most recent edition (not online), and leave no creamy liver, zesty blood pocket or flavorful brain unturned.
Pâtés, terrines, rillettes, blood sausage, head cheese—they’re all present in a lovingly written search for good charcuterie in a country still wrestling with the concept. Manhattan’s Bar Boulud, Fra’ Mani in Oakland, and Fabrique Délices in Hayward, California all get appreciative shouts from writer Winnie Yang, who casually mentions her own experience with making head cheese about halfway through the piece.
The story makes for fascinating reading, but the recipes that follow are engrossing: The magazine includes directions for pâté de champagne, mousse de foies, cervelas lyonnais, rillettes de Tours, head cheese, and saucisse de Toulouse.
Figures suggest that 30 percent of murders in Britain are committed with knives or other sharp instruments. Solution? Confiscating knives isn’t particularly reasonable, but the Economist’s website reports that a modification of knife tips might greatly reduce fatal injuries without particularly affecting the performance of most blades.
“The team looked at four of a knife’s properties—the radius of the tip, the shape of the tip, the thickness of the blade, and the sharpness of the edge—in order to determine what was doing the most damage. The answer turned out to be the radius of the tip. The reason is that skin is elastic and will at first stretch and deflect a knife.”
Oh, and also:
“The force needed to go deeper is much less than that required for the entry. In fact, some convicted killers have commented on how their knife seemed to ‘fall into’ the body of their victim after breaching his skin.”
Hey, now that’s a vivid image.
As the Economist reports (and every cook knows), one typically uses the blade of the knife rather than the tip when cutting. So short of a gun-style safety catch, “sheep’s foot” shaped knives (where the back of the blade curves down to meet the cutting edge, creating a relatively blunt tip) may be the best bet for a crime-averse society hoping to cut down on knife fatalities.
If you’re a New Orleans junkie like me, you’ll want to get your hands on the new Crescent City Farmers Market Cookbook by Poppy Tooker. It’s got great pictures and profiles of local farmers and producers, along with interesting recipes from regulars at the market and local chefs.
New Orleans–style food can be very rich, at times complicated, and, if Cajun, can involve things like frog legs, duck fat, and game birds you might not have at your local Safeway. The thing I like about this one, besides the fact that you can almost smell the city in the quirky descriptions and beautiful photos of its residents, is that there are lots of “I can make this right now, and I want to” recipes. Like a simple vegetarian red beans recipe (yeah, you read that right: vegetarian), shrimp with Cognac and local legumes, and hakurei turnip and pork fricassee over hot cooked rice.
Author Poppy Tooker is the head of the Crescent City’s chapter of Slow Foods and, when it comes to that city’s past and present food scene, she’s one of the smartest people around. So you’ll find some good historic stuff in there, like how to make real Creole cream cheese (a vanishing classic), as well as a portion of the book’s recipes representing the relative newcomers to New Orleans: Indian, West Indian, and Mexican immigrants.
The Feedbag brought this Colbert Report segment to my attention. Focusing on companies that might go under in 2009, it includes every mall-shopper’s favorite pizza joint, Sbarro.
But what does Colbert think about bailing out the ailing pizza maker? “Sometimes at Sbarro, the Parmesan cheese gets stuck in the shaker and won’t come out as fast as I like, so … fuck ’em.”
“Forget the Iron Chef or the Bocuse d’Or. There should be medals for any kitchen amateur who attempts a recipe where you measure the prep time in days, not hours, and for which just assembling the ingredients is like going for a triple lutz jump at your neighborhood ice rink,” writes Katherine Lanpher in Slate, on the preparation of cassoulet.
Lanpher’s contention: The provincial French favorite is demanding enough to actually be distracting from the ongoing economic implosion. An appealing idea, assuming you’ve got enough money socked away to afford all the various duck pieces and mutton.
