Lechon Matado

So, I have been roasting whole pigs for more than 10 years now, and I have never really seen one of my pigs alive until today.

Gary Grizzle has been butchering pigs for me since I got to East Tennessee, and he is one of the nicest guys I have met out here. He lives in the country with his son’s family to the left and his neighbor’s 100+ calves in a barn to the right, all overlooking his multiple acre vegetable garden.

This morning I met Gary and drove over to Bill the pig farmer's farm. A couple of hundred pigs, all of them cute, smelly, eating, shitting machines. Bill was in the middle, wearing what I would consider fly fishing waders, smiling and knee deep in pig. There were all sizes, from beautiful little foot long babies to their 500 lbs (those bite) mommas; we picked the largest of the less than 15 week lot, about 85 pounds live weight, and put it into Gary's son's trailer for the drive back to Gary's place. Apparently it only takes a pig about 6 months to reach 250+ pounds!

One shot in the head (while still in the trailer), and our bouncing brain pierced pig was on the floor, soon to be bled with a swift cut at the main neck artery. As it bled, Gary's two beautiful weenie dogs (as his grandaughter put it) lapped up the blood (I had earlier remarked that they had stunning coats), and we chatted as we waited for the blood to subside and the heated water trough to reach 160 degrees.

A homemade metal bath with (what had to have been) large propane burners underneath, Gary had started the heat at 7 this morning. It was now about 9:15, and the water (not changed since the last pig) finally read 160 on the industrial thermometer.

We used a chain link fence to support the pig as Gordon (Gary’s son) rocked the pig up and down, carefully scalding the outer layer of skin, until, in-between rocks, Gary was able to easily rip off pieces of hide.

The chain link fence was great because not only was it strong, porous, and flexible enough to be rocked, it also made the roll onto the wooden dock next to the bath that much simpler.

All three of them went at it, Gary, Gordon, and Gordon’s son, three generations of Grizzles making this pig cleaning look easy and putting up with a strange looking Cuban that was really interested in the details.

They used folding buck-style knives that they had each sharpened earlier, and I realized that the grips and short blades were perfect for shaving the pig. I was in there grabbing at hide as well, but that was the fun part, as the shaving of the left over hair took the skill of a barber with a straight blade.

After making slits in the rear legs and revealing the double (as Gordon noted, unlike a deer) ligaments, we hung the pig up from a crane, and I realized how beautiful it was.

After cutting completely around the anus to free it, Gary made a light central cut, barely breaking the skin, from ass to ribs. I looked at it more than once, and realized that it was indeed perfectly straight and perfectly in the middle.

A bit deeper, and a grain filled small intestine began to pop out, slowly followed by its length, and Gary worked the viscera out at a steady pace. Before the liver, he asked do want the liver? Cutting it away and handing it to Gordon, he continued down the pig. Do you want the heart? Again cut away, then split, and the congealed (thick thick dark dark) blood pushed out. Before I knew it, there was a hose, Gordon’s son had picked up the guts (almost as big as him), successfully strained to put them in the trash bin nearby, and I had a zip lock of clean viscera and was on my way to wash up for a day at office.

I think I learned more this morning than I have all week, and viscera (as my olive oil sautéed lunch time heart spoke to) are exquisite fresh.

Thanks to Gary, Gordon, and Mackle for their patience and generosity.

You may ask: why no photos?
- I walk a fine line between being an interested outsider, and being an abrupt alien. Gary’s grandkids would have thought I was the strangest fellow in the world if I had been taking photos of shit covered pigs.

Cooper Hewitt Exhibit on flatware

http://www.cooperhewitt.org/EXHIBITIONS/feeding_desire/index.aspFeeding Desire: Design and the Tools of the Table, 1500–2005On view May 5–October 29, 2006
A journey through the evolution of Western dining from the Renaissance to the present, Feeding Desire features objects from Cooper-Hewitt’s world-class collections. The exhibition will address the development of utensil forms, innovations in production and materials, etiquette, and flatware as social commentary.
AWESOME!

Microplane Graters

Some of you can relate to being the owner of useless kitchen gadgets. The kind that sit in dark cabinet corners collecting dust feeling 90% guilty and 10% resigned to contributing to the US economy. Let's see, I got a food dehydrator after a month of raw food obsession. That's never been used. A Dial-A-Knife circa 1960's from a flea market - powder blue dial with bubble font. I'm afraid to stick my good knife in it...that's never been plugged in. A stunning $500 Limited Edition chrome 12-cup Cuisinart (courtesy of psycho-boss who made up for abusive office behavior) used once in two years. Taking apart the various pieces to wash it takes too much time. The one kitchen gadget that I love, possessing the right design and utility is the microplaner. It's affordable (less than $20), easily washable, and incredibly useful. It makes that rectangular grater look pathetic: does grate well or washed well while giving you knuckle cuts. Check it out: http://www.microplane.com

One of our favorite Manhattan Restaurants closes

Sergio and I had one of the best meals in NYC last year when we stumbled upon a party for his friend, Maurti (sp?). We had just finished snacking at two places yet we ate like we never did at Petrosino's on the Lower East Side. The menu has mostly Northern Italian food done in a room with simple white decor. Now WTF does the ubiquitious Italian-modern decor thing have going on here? Simple - abundance of plenty with class. The piles of prosciutto didn't seem obnoxious but layer in ripples on the small tasting dishes. Then came out the sauteed broccoli rabe, spaghetti with meatballs...closing round of five desserts. I can't recall all the details but Serg and I still salivate and laugh about that meal. No one else at the table was particularly hungry but we had doubles of everything. It was a sad day for both of us to hear this February that Petrosino's would be no more.

Marty's goddaughter, Erin, Debbie (mom) and me looking at the pickled fruit and vegetable sweets from a roadside stall overlooking Maracas Bay.

TT - Trinidad & Tobago

Marty and I went to TT for Spring Break a few weeks ago. Not only was the weather lovely but the local food divine. We stayed with his precocious nine-year old goddaughter and the parents. Debbie, her mother, is a TT/Caribbean celebrity chef so needless to say we ate pretty well...We kicked off the liming at a local rum shop en route from the airport with ice cold Carib and Stag beers, dubbed by roadside banners as "the man's drink" (Marty preferred the Carib which has a crisper finish). This was accompanied by delicious handmade handheld food - roti stuffed with curried potatoes and your choice of meat (goat or chicken are the most common) wrapped in light blue-purple tissue paper. On Sunday, we were treated to a traditional Sunday lunch with callaloo soup, stewed chicken, fish chowder, and breadfruit. Breadfruit kicks any potatoes ass - it has a firmness - slightly sweet, non-starchy quality. One day, we drove to Debe in Trinidad and had Carib-Indian fried street food. I never thought much about fried food's differentiation but each local stall had his/her own following. Lightly battered, fried to a certain lightness, crispy yet moist but not too moist that only tastes good at a certain temperature - one degree over or below makes the whole thing a bit sad. TT subsists on a pretty impressive diet: fish, chicken (one fried breakfast egg is about five fried breakfast eggs), vegetables rice and local fruit. The strong sense of Indian-Chinese-African flavors meld together quite well.

Edible Art?

Read this in Time Out NY March 30th issue. Sid Chidiac's "sweet tooth". Interesting and kinda bizarre: http://www.sidchidiac.com/Chocolate.htm

Padang

Has anyone ever been to Padang in Indonesia? The NYTimes describes if as food-crazed, with items like sate padang, tender skewers of beef smothered in a brown sauce laced with 15 spices, and creamy avocado juice spiked with chocolate syrup.

If you live in NY, you can get a preview at Padang Raya or Minangasli on Whitney Ave in North Elmhurst.

The Lemongrass War

By ADAM B. ELLICK
Published: March 5, 2006

Truffles Exposed!

The NY Times had an article on March 1st, Cultivating a Mystique by Jane Black, that was my first glimpse of the worlwide truffle market. Did you know:

- One truffle farm in Spain accounts for 15-25% of the global supply of ~35 tons a year?

- 80 to 90 percent of French truffles are now cultivated.

- New Zealand is a big player with about 100 new truffle farms in the last decade. It is home to the most productive truffle farm in the world, with $220,000 worth of truffles (wholesale) an acre.

- Primitive truffle farms began in France almost 150 years ago.

- All you need to make truffles are the right growing conditions, an oak forest, and some truffle spores to infect new saplings? Trees take about 8-10 years to mature before the first crop.

- Even at truffle farms, dogs are used to find truffles, and they are hand dug. This is necessary because the peak of a truffle's ripeness is relatively short.

- Look out for Chinese truffles, Tuber indicum, which look like black truffles, or Tuber melanosporum, but lack their signature aroma and flavor, and sell for a fraction of the price - I am not sure I believe the part about aroma and flavour, and I think this might be China bashing. Do any of you have any experience?

Eat as many truffles as you can. Cheat, and use truffles to get laid. Be critical of chefs that put truffle oil on everything.

Tropical Winter Feast

Wow. A little bit of luck fishing, Simon, Okasan, Mom, and guests, and we had an easy feast. January on Sugarloaf. Wonderful.

Assorted pickles and vegetables
Rum Drunk Grilled Fennel Shrimp
Mackerel Sashimi
Mackerel Sushi
Grilled Mackerel
Churrasco
Pear Marinated Cocoa Venison Back Strap

Loco Con Los Platanos

We finally have a way to peel green plantains without breaking or dirtying our beautiful long nails. The story of the E-Z Peeler, out today in the New York Times, is anecdotal and worthwhile. I would love to eat so many plantains that I would need one of these. There is also a plantain cookbook that is probably worth investigating.

Thumb-Wrestling With Plantains Is Now an Optional Sport
By AMANDA HESSER

http://www.nytimes.com/2006/02/01/dining/01peel.html?:/

www.lococonlosplatanos.com

Conservation Salmon

Here is a way to get hook and line caught salmon straight from the source. Conservation Salmon is endorsed by Trout Unlimited, whose mission is to conserve, protect and restore North America’s trout and salmon fisheries and their watersheds. I volunteer with my local TU group, the Little River Chapter, and I really feel like their contributions are significant.

Here is what they say their goals are:

Goals of Conservation Salmon
To ensure a fair return to salmon fishermen in keeping with "Fair Trade" principles;
To provide a "percent of profits tithe" to selected conservation groups to assist their ongoing efforts to protect salmon habitat;
and
To provide conservation consumers with direct access to the finest, all natural, sustainable food in the world - wild Alaska salmon and seafood.

I can't wait to ask them to send me a whole salmon and some ikura. Check them out, www.ConservationSalmon.com

Barcelona Bravas

Even though they had their share, Shota and Amy missed out on las mejores Patatas Bravas de Barcelona, which I enjoyed during my day trip peregrinaje to the Vilar/Connil home site in the suburb of Sarria. Served with all i oli and salsa picante at the packed bar Tomas de Sarria, we ordered 6 portions to go, and I had eaten two of those portions (huge by European standards) in tie, hot, and walking, even before we had reached the family apartment for a roasted chicken lunch with Montse (Maria de Monteserrat, Maria's Aphrodite eyed mother), husband (Manolo), and wonderful children, Maria and Victor.

All i oli has always amazed me, and Catalunia truly challenges my ideas on the sauce, because good quality hyper thick spoonfuls of it are so easy to find. Good olive oil and good garlic (fresh?) should produce good all i oli, but every time I succeed in persuading the garlic to emulse as it dances with the oil, I find myself with small quantities of success and an overcautious fear of it returning, and leaving me with only the original ingredients. In Barcelona, the all i oli is strong, it is thick, it is white, and it is impossible to ligar after eating it, but it is worth it (as Spanish girls require excessive warming up anyway).

The salsa picante is secondary, and seems to be a cayenne paprika oil mixture identical to that drizzled on pulpo a la Gallega in Barcelona, but it has the benefits of both flavor and looks.

Tomas de Sarria has reached cult status, and the combination of huge turnover, great potatoes (Maria swears this is their secret), all i oli and salsa picante, made my toothpick attack of a plate of fried potatoes experience the perfect thread of a memorable afternoon.

Venison to NYC

I have to admit I was horribly nervous about sharing the way I had learned to cook venison in Tennessee with my snobby sophisticate gourmet New York friends. Bringing an entire back strap with me from Knoxville (not a tenderloin as I had thought), I was determined to show off and impress. With some fancy unsweetened cocoa from Simon's favorite Jewish market and the perpetual Baleine fine sea salt, I set out to prepare an unforgettable dish. Dressed as a clown (literally), not sober, and surrounded by good friends, I loosened up and just went to it. As I let the meat rest before bringing it to Simon's skilled sashimi slicing hands, I did not know what to expect. What happenned as I passed the sliced thin 4 inch diameter disks of perfectly cooked meat for ninja turtles and ravens and Yosemite Sam to eat should not have surprised me. Simon had prepared a warm space for his friends to enjoy a beautiful beautiful fall day in NY, and this dish was able to complement it. Smiles to laughs to the visceral pleasure of a great bite, I was really happy to be able to share. Great memories of people place and food. Thank you.

Sanguinaccio!

The resident gourmand from Napoli, Marco (student in the same school as me), told me about Sanguinaccio. It's chocolate and pig's blood... can you imagine? And apparently it's absolutely delicious. He was telling me how his mother used to make it often, and as a kid he'd be scared because he'd open the refigerator and there would be a jar of pig's blood in there. But he claims that the taste is divine. Does anyone know more about this, or tried it before?? (p.s. I don't think they make the real ones in the US, and though they've apparently created a version without the blood...)

Esqueixada de Bacalla'

We went to the Set Portes, an old portside restaurant in Barcelona which has opened in 1836. Experience and an old-world decor complete with dusty piano player didn't prevent the place from having awful paella and fideua' (and they were out of my favorite: the arros negre which is the squid's ink paella). But the chilled salad of bean kernels were exquisite and these esqueixada were the best I've ever had. Go there for the appetizers. The salted bacalao (cod) were fresh, fleshy and tangy, and the green pungence of the extra virgin olive oil and the bed of crispy onions were masterful, along with the rosy puree of tomato that topped the affair. Esqueixada (pronounced something like "as-ka-sha-da") is a typical cold tapas of the region which tickles my Japanese sensibility for the half-raw. The actual recipe is here but unfortunately only in Catalan.

Fair trade Coffee!

McDonald's is selling Fairtrade coffee! Monica finally convinced them! Comparatively, I was in a Starbuck's yesterday, and only one of their (many) roasts was Fairtrade. Monica, please keep us updated on how this changes the market!

http://www.just-food.com/news_detail.asp?art=62276&dm=yes

Fairtrade groups have welcomed the announcement by fastfood giant McDonald’s that it is partnering Green Mountain Coffee Roasters to sell Newman's Own Organics Blend coffee in more than 650 McDonald's restaurants in Massachusetts, Connecticut, Rhode Island, Vermont, New Hampshire, Maine and Albany, NY.

Created exclusively for McDonald's, Newman's Own Organics Blend, made from Fair Trade Certified and organic specialty coffees, will be available as both regular and decaffeinated.

Fairtrade product certifier TransFair said it joined Oxfam America in welcoming the move with the hope that McDonald’s extends the launch to its restaurants across the US.

"This is a great moment for the Fair Trade movement – one that will have an immensely positive impact on Fair Trade farmers and serve as an example for other companies that are still considering whether to respond to consumer demand for Fair Trade products," said Paul Rice, president and CEO of TransFair USA.

"Our hope is that McDonald's will embrace Fair Trade across its entire system and convert all of its US restaurants to Fair Trade in the next year or two."

Rice added: "Companies such as Dunkin Donuts, Starbucks, Costco and Sam's Club, as well as thousands of smaller independent companies, are selling Fair Trade Certified coffee and McDonald's will help to accelerate the trend."

Huckleberry Trout

This week Patrick and I had the opportunity to fish on Little River in the Smoky Mountains after work, and it was beautiful. We picked a promising stretch of river, and fished together, him on the holes to the right side, I to the left. We caught bunches of fish. I was lucky enough to look up just as he set the hook into a fish upstream of me that turned out to be glorious. I watched him play the fish, and was at his side shortly after he landed it. More than a foot long and stunning, this rainbow trout was a true Smoky Mountain trophy. Unfortunately, the hook had been set deep in the mouth of the fish, and it was bleeding, so Patrick, still a bit traumatized, worked on releasing the hook, as I proceeded to fantasize about how it would end up in my belly. We have caught a couple of hundred trout in the Smokies this year between us, and we have released them all. I even got two whoppers in the hole beneath Patrick's earlier this spring, it could have been one of those fish. This one did not have a very good chance of surviving after a tough hooking, and I do not regret killing this beautiful fish.
A salt and pepper coat later, the fish was grilled until the skin was crispy and the flesh still wet but falling off the bone. I am a sucker for skin, as most of you know from some lechon/salmon "only the skin is important" experiences with me, but the flesh once the skin was pulled away was also divine. Beautiful at every point: alive, dead, gutted, powdered in Korean black pepper and Utah salt (pink and glistening), and presented whole on the plate. What a glorious night.
Note: Those are wild muscadine grapes surrounding the fish. They lined nearly the entire stretch of river and were small tough skinned and heavily seeded, but they had a delicious sweet burst of juice at each pop. Patrick, ceaselessly teasing, called me Huckleberry as I popped grapes while walking streamside with my fishing pole, and found the name for this memorable stretch of river.

the Future of Food

Amazing documentary that wasn't goofy like Michael Moore nor preachy like Catholic homilies. Instead, this movie I brave on a heavily raining school night for a 9:55pm(!) showing at the IFC was brilliant. Director Deborah Garcia, sister of Jerry Garcia (yes, from the Grateful Dead), educated me on GMOs aka Genetically Modified Organisms. The silent havoc on Nature from the likes of agribusinesses likeMonsanto makes one wonder about the state of affairs on our global food system. Gene splitting, patenting of seeds, suicide seeds, and the death of family farms.
http://www.thefutureoffood.com

Da Dinners

One thing I'm always impressed by with my colleagues leaving in the countryside chateaux / farmhouses is somehow their ability to conjure themselves from the dark abyss of the perennial MBA hangover and get their act together enough to organize weekly dinners. And when they get their proverbial ass in gear, it's not like we boil up some pasta to some canned ragu for several unexpectant friends. It's a serious affair involving aperitifs and cocktails and little Japanese-style fingerfoods. The fact that some houses get this catered in not withstanding, it's quite and impressive feat to have something like 30 people over for any sort of collective feeding.
Many of the houses do this out of their sheer surplus energy and volition, which I find incredibly admirable. One of the first of these little soiree affairs that I was invited to happened at Le Vivier, a connivingly far-off farmhouse in the netherlands of between Fontainebleau and Paris. Some of the most witty, friendly, and engaging people live in this languid villa, along with what appeared to be a half-dozen chicken. I was fortunate enough to be invited before they got a clue and started getting their dinners catered. We were treated to a full-course with drinks at the bar, dinner, and dessert and digestifs in the smoking room. Whatever a smoking room is. Jessica's albondigas were to die for-- real homemade cooking, the succlent tomato sauce complementing the soft little meat balls. And Veronica brought out the best of her Fordism by a serious mass-production of bright fusilli salad to the tune of being able to save all of Uganda from hunger and starvation-- I mean I wouldn't be surprised if she literally filled the bathtub with hot water and poured the pasta right in to make it. It was a serious amount. I believe that with our collective appetite (of like a dozen people), we managed to consume about a hundredth of the entire amount manufactured-- somehow the demand curve and supply curve were taking a trip to the fifth dimension. This may have caused the abrupt switch to catering, though it's not a bullet-proof theory.
In any case, the company was excellent. I wasn't driving. The food was beautifully if voluminously prepared. It was a wonderful night, and cheers to the entire Le Vivier team for this excellent production.

Amy - Artist

In komida's first post I wrote:
"Whereas we did not always understand how much our taste buds could guide our lifestyles, we have become aggressive eaters who proactively expand and refine our experience. This is a medium where we can contribute to each other's goals, and together we can progress towards living beautifully."
What I did not appreciate was that it is not the food that guides us, but the people we share our lives with. This past Sunday Amy created an event that did not give people the choice as to whether they would or could live beautifully. She brought an idea into art, and shared it with us. It was not until I was intoxicated with her performance that I realized that it had nothing to do with the table cloths, the fancy clothes, the wine, the startling succession of divine dishes, but instead everything to do with her, with my friends who had come to share this celebration of my birth, and me. Thank you Amy for clarifying the power of people, and the beauty that we can create when we commune.

Monterrey - Cabrito

All out war this past weekend in Monterrey Mexico with the crew I grew up with. Us drunkards versus more stunningly beautiful super-ultra-conservative Mexican oligarch daughters than we knew what to do with, unfortunately, I don't think we won a single battle.
Thankfully, there was the food, and even though Monterrey is a fairly new inland industrial town, they do have one specialty - cabrito, baby roasted goat. We had our first chance to explore its wonders at El Rey del Cabrito, a block-long, mounted endangered species displaying, Monterrey baby-goat themed restaurant. We knew it was a bit gaijin-oriented when they kept offering us tequila, but we stayed positive and determined. The menu offered cabrito, every cut possible, but since we had a group of 12 and I was ordering, we ordered a whole goat and a half, and a head for me (there was no way I was going to let that one go). Cooked in a style similar to our Japanese ayu (see komida post photo 5/19/2005), split and ?grilled for a long period of time surrounding a steady fire, it was good. Not spectacular, but that was because it could have been better. The cabrito chicharron was not nearly as respected as it could have been (this was not the case in the rest of Monterrey, as I saw a 4 foot by 4 foot piece of chicharron at a supermarket = heaven), and was a disappointment coming from my "that is the only important part of the pig" tradition. What made it worse was that it looked like pork. Tender and clean tasting (expected), I had forgotten that baby animals don't have that much meat (lots of bones), so don't forget that the next time you push yourself through a third world hangover with fantasies of huge chunks of meat. Baby goat is definitely worth eating, even a delicacy, but next time, I will cook it myself.

Check THIS Out

So I'm a bit back-logged in my postings because I've been too busy eating. I live in some decandent forest of France now, but my photos are crammed full of foods from Asia-- the tamarind sauces, the savory zest of lime squeezed on fried noodles, the fragrance of burnt peppercorn and chili... something which seems a distant memory away. So here another distant if drool-inducing image. Sticky rice, steamed in a thick fond-de-je-ne-sais-quoi then fried with crab eggs and scallions, served with soups. This is from one of my favorite restaurants in Taipei, the Hao Chi restaurant. The You Dou Fu there is also excellent, with a mild oily sauce coating a the flan-like white tofu. The oyster omlette with the sweet gravy. The searing smell of the scampi in the skillet, infused with the fragrance of rice wine, salt and cilantro. The night market foods of Taipei are concoted with the unassuming practical genius of a hungry worker with Taipei beer in hand and looking madly for perfect and rapid aperitif, unsubtle in taste and bold in volume, and ever satisfying.

Fast Food of Kagawa

This happened in July. We rode around aimlessly for four hours, searching across the rustic countryside of Kagawa prefecture in western Japan, home of the legendary Sanuki Udon. My friend Koji and I had taken the exit off the highway and were winding across streams and hills and up into the wild borderlands of Tokushima, when we finally (after having missed the turn several times) came across THE udon place. We found it a bit incredulous that there were so many Udon shops in Kagawa, but here high school girls after school pop into their local Udon joint and order a quick freshly prepared Udon as if they were ordering fries from McDonald's. The Sanuki Udon, famous for the slippery dense al-dente texture, the white glistening surface of the thick noodles, is best served with the famous dashi (broth) from the same prefecture. One can also serve it with some grated raddish and a dash of broth-infused soy-sauce and some scallions. Koji and I were both crying with joy at the perfrection of the Udon here... two ruddy guys with big arms basically beating the shit out of the doughy pasta to give it its texture, and then rapidly boiling it in this big vat (which was constantly being heated by a massive wood fire underneath... the whole scene was Bosch-like and quite frightening). Along with the firm aroma of the bonito dashi and the cold mountain air, the individual noodles ran dan my throat in a lively casade of flavor and texture. But a four hour drive is a long time for what's basically fast food.

Pierre Androuet

My mother picked up Pierre Androuet's The Complete Encyclopedia of French Cheese, published in English in 1973 (originally in French, Guide du Fromage), and it is the best cheese monger perspective cheese book I have ever seen. The methods this guy uses to discriminate quality in cheeses are inordinately precise, so much so that you realize he is using them to pick out his personal preferences in each cheese, not necessarily the best representation of a cheese(whatever that means). He is the first person I have seen that uses the commonsense idea that cheese quality (for non-pasteurized cheeses) is seasonal. He makes it very clear that for every cheese one must know:

1. The approximate date when the cows are put out to pasture;
2. The length of time it takes to make the cheese.

Only with this information can one correlate the best milk producing period with the time a cheese hits the market, and have a better chance of finding the best cheeses truly sublime. I think it is interesting that the three special moments within the pasturing season when the cows give such milk are:

1. The sprouting of the grass (germination);
2. The prime flowering of the meadows;
3. The second growth of grass.

Fortunately, we do not need to discover these times in France (they are included in the book), and have the much more enjoyable duty of finding the best non-pasteurized cheeses when they are in their prime. I would live in France for more than a year just to do that. Shota, I found the French version, when you send me your address, you will get the book, the only commitment is that you need to share your experiences!

Fast Food Memories

How sad. My childhood is filled with memories of chicken sandwiches at Burger King and 25 count fried shrimp baskets at IHOP. My grandparents, Ita and Andrew, were the only ones that would ever take us to fast food. A few years ago I realized the french fries at BK had changed and the chicken sandwich had shrunk. Last night (~2:30 AM) I realized that the shrimp at IHOP no longer have the shells attached to the end of the tails (probably my first experience with this, god, look at how an innocent introduction to a simple American meal degenerated! - crab shells, fish heads, anything, etc.), and that they are indistinguishable from clam strips (strong breading, bland seafood).

Formatting

We had some formatting issues using the current template, but I finally figured out what was wrong. When including text (esp. hyperlinks), break it/them up into smaller parcels, for example:

http://www.stonybrook.edu/
sb/winecenter/SBcampusevents.shtml

Thanks.

The Art of Eating Mag

Have any of you ever read (or even seen) a copy of The Art of Eating magazine?
http://www.artofeating.com/

New York Food Blog School

www.obsessionwithfood.com's contributors are offering a food and wine blog lecture at Stony Brook. New Yorkers, consider attending!

http://www.stonybrook.edu/
sb/winecenter/SBcampusevents.shtml

Wine for the Web: Bloggers Unite!
Thursday, October 20: 6:30–8:00 p.m.
Impressed by all the wonderful information available on the Web? Love to look up recipes and research wine and food pairings? Read the latest on high scoring wines? New Yorker Lenn Thompson and Californian Derrick Schneider have both turned their amateur internet wine and food blogs into professional writing opportunities. Join them, and see how to turn a taste into a turn of phrase. Complete with wine and food explorations, of course.

A Different Blog

Thought you might be interested in someone else's blog:
http://www.obsessionwithfood.com/