Category Archives: Uncategorized

Timeless: The Classics

I have little patience for the classics.

Nearly all of the music I listen to sounds more or less like the Beatles, but I actually prefer something like Cotton Mather’s Kon Tiki to any Beatles album.

Similarly, my cookbook shelf has a few perfunctory titles by the likes of Marcella Hazan and…actually, I just looked, and Marcella Hazan is the only thing there that can reasonably be described as classic. I had copies of Julia Child and Joyce Chen at one time, but I gave them away.

My classics are books like Cucina Simpatica and Dancing Shrimp. I want a book that speaks my language, something without the weight of history on it, even if it contains the same recipes as the old guard.

That’s why I’m so excited about The Lee Bros Southern Cookbook: Stories and Recipes for Southerners and Would-Be Southerners. I am neither of those, but this encyclopedic book is making me hungry anyway.

> When people ask what advice we’d give to aspiring food writers, the first thing we say is, *know how to cook a pork shoulder.* Without fail, they laugh at that advice, but we couldn’t be more serious; our Sunday night shoulders have gotten us through the lean weeks with style.

Better yet, the Lee Bros live in New York, so their barbecue recipes are all fake (i.e., oven-oriented), which means I can try them at home. I’m going to make their braised picnic shoulder tomorrow. With slaw.

The giant on whose, uh, shoulders the Lee Bros stand is the late Edna Lewis and her book The Taste of Country Cooking. Comparisons to that classic will dog the Lee Bros. But from my ahistoricist perspective, this is the Southern tome to beat.

Date with IKEA

While I was at IKEA I noticed a cool new feature. They have a couple of model apartments that you can walk through. They’re missing the fourth wall, like a sitcom set, and of course they’re completely outfitted with IKEA swag. The one that totally drew me in was a 270-square-foot studio. If I were single, I would totally live in a place like this. It had a kitchen, a bathroom, and a living area with a loft bed and a little table.

There are actually many apartments like it in Seattle, including new condos in Belltown. The only problems I saw with it were that the stove is 24 inches, which is bad news if you want to have more than two burners going at the same time, and I think the bed was a twin, which is bad news if you bring a girl home and she’s not into crashing six feet to the floor in the middle of the night.

Then I realized, wait, I don’t want to live in an apartment like this. I want to live in this actual apartment, inside the IKEA store. Think about it. You can buy ingredients at the IKEA food shop, meals at the IKEA restaurant, and everything else you might need at, well, IKEA. Maybe you’d get sick of Swedish meatballs, but that’s the only downside. There’s a Target up the road for everything else. Every night would be like that episode of The OC where the gang spends the night at the mall, or like that early 90s movie _Career Opportunities_. This would be a publicity gold mine for IKEA. People would be talking about “that guy who lives at IKEA” nonstop. Hidden cameras would capture my midnight meatball raids.

For some reason, it took me forever to remember _Career Opportunities_; somehow I had convinced myself that it was a movie about some kids who get stuck in a toy store all night and have to outwit a security guard played by Judge Reinhold. Is this some other movie? Apparently in _Career Opportunities_, there are no kids, it’s a Target, and it stars Jennifer Connelly and some guy who is not only not Judge Reinhold but is probably not a jurist of any stripe.

Incidentally, Roots and Grubs turns one today. My goal was to post every day. This is post 366.

Stew strategy

**Update:** The braising essay is back online.

One of my all-time favorite food essays is no longer online or available in any other form as far as I know. It’s by Steven Shaw, and it’s called “Matt and Steve’s Ultimate Braising Weekend.” Luckily, I have a printout. There is more good advice in this article than in any other three articles I know of. For example:

> Moreover, these “30-Minute Gourmet” recipes tend to be defective in several ways: First, they fail to grasp the fundamental premise of efficient cooking: Cook when you have time. The way you save time in the kitchen isn’t by using fast recipes. It’s by spending time, when you have time, making a whole lot of something you can reheat later.

Steven and his friend Chef Matt (Seeber, former Gramercy Tavern sous-chef) spend $30 on ingredients (plus People magazine) and make three braises: short ribs, lamb shanks, and beef stew.

There have been a couple of 35-degree days in Seattle already this year, which means braising season is upon us. I tend to braise on Sundays for Sunday and Monday dinner and occasionally a hash on Tuesday.

It’s really easy to fall into a rut, though. Another beef stew? Another pot roast? Another eight-pack of chicken thighs?

Luckily, the crowbar to lever me out of these doldrums is also found in Matt and Steve.

> It would be perfectly acceptable, at this point, to give up. You could take any of these braised meats, spoon some of the braising liquid over it and serve it with a baked potato. It would be delicious.

> But Chef Matt wouldn’t be happy stopping here. “If you’re cooking in a restaurant and you want people to pay twenty or thirty bucks for a lamb shank, you’d better have some damn good sauce and some damn good vegetables.” And if you want your guests to say (And really believe) “this is as good as in any restaurant,” you’re going to have press on.

Damn good sauce is easy to come by when you’ve made a braise. I often reduce the braising liquid–I generally prefer having less of a good, concentrated sauce than more of a weak sauce, but how far to take it is a matter of personal taste. But what Matt is saying about the damn good vegetables is a point easy to miss.

Here’s the point: as much as it sounds like extra work and extra waste, it is almost always worthwhile to cook vegetables separately and garnish the braise with them at the end than to throw all the vegetables into the pot at the beginning. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t cook any vegetables with the stew–but it does mean that sometimes it’s best to strain out those vegetables and throw them away. Beef bourguignon, for example, is made this way: you remove the aromatics and prepare a garnish of mushrooms and pearl onions.

In his essay “The Reviewer and the Recipe,” John Thorne works his way through a Russ Parsons recipe for mushroom pot roast, annotating all the way. Russ says:

> Transfer the meat to a plate and cover it with aluminum foil to keep warm. Pour the liquid and vegetables into a strainer or a bowl, pressing on the vegetables to get as much liquid as possible; discard the vegetables.

John replies:

> Discard the vegetables?! I’d almost as soon discard the meat!

I know the feeling. But when I saute some nice carrots and parsnips and add them to the finished stew, I get over it.

Incidentally, Cook’s Illustrated discovered and then largely abandoned this idea. In the January/February 1996 issue there’s a basic beef stew recipe with a sidebar: “The Very Best Beef Stew: The Vegetables Last.”

> When you want the very best-tasting stew, though…do not add the carrots and peas to the stew pot raw. Instead, just before serving, bring one inch of water to a boil in a steamer pot. Place the carrots in a steamer basket, lower them into the pot, and steam them until just tender, about six minutes. Then add the peas and steamed carrots, cover the kettle, and let the stew stand for approximately five minutes in order to blend all the flavors.

Old sourdough

Another must-have at the new Whole Foods is 365 Sourdough Crackers. There are fewer than 365 crackers in the box, sadly; 365 is WF’s house brand. They’re small, very crispy square crackers with a distinct sourdough flavor. It’s easy to finish a whole box. Buy two.

Today I went to IKEA and managed to buy only the $8 lamp I went in for, and then restrained myself from stopping at the new Whole Foods on the way back. This was good, and I’m patting myself on the back, but sooner or later I will reward my abstemiousness with some kind of shopping spree.