Chef wanted in a series of renderings

Two meat-related items, as fresh as today’s papers. First, an actual teaser headline from the front page of the Seattle P-I:

Chef involved as pigs turn into pork

Next, a great article by Mark Bittman about David Chang, chef at Momofuku Noodle Bar in Manhattan. I think Chang and I would be best pals:

> It’s not that David Chang doesn’t like vegetables. In fact, Mr. Chang, the chef and owner of the Momofuku Noodle Bar in the East Village, loves them. He just thinks a little meat makes them better.

I could totally give up meat as a main dish if I could keep it as a flavoring. As a bonus, the article features a recipe for brussels sprouts with kimchi that sounds awesome. The kimchi is essentially used as a sauce. I can’t wait to make this.

Obviously I’m not one of the first million people on the web to complain about this, but isn’t it weird that newspaper sites are still doing the free-registration thing? Is it possible that they’re getting the slightest bit of useful data from it that they couldn’t get from just using anonymous cookies?

The secret in the old smokehouse

Sometimes the solution to a problem comes when you take a step back and realize that you’ve been working too hard, and a radically simpler approach is called for. The solution to the bucatini all’amatriciana problem didn’t go like that.

It sounds so delicious and so easy. Amatriciana is a sauce that consists of my favorite things: tomatoes, onions, and bacon (or pancetta, or guanciale, but I think smoked bacon is best). It’s usually served with bucatini (which is like thick spaghetti with a hole down the middle) and topped with grated pecorino romano. How could this possibly go wrong?

Every possible way. Watery tomatoes. Sauce too chunky or too smooth. And above all, the sauce never seemed to get intimate with the pasta. I’d tried it a dozen times. I’d tried recipes from Cook’s Illustrated and The Italian Country Table and god knows where else.

Then, last Saturday, I made the ultimate amatriciana. It took several hours and created a pile of dirty dishes worth of one of those moundbuilder cultures. I didn’t come up with this myself, of course. It’s from the Zuni Cafe Cookbook.

Here’s how it works. You buy a big hunk of slab bacon. I got mine at Bavarian Meats, at Pike Place Market. I asked for a pound of slab bacon, and the woman said, “I don’t know how much is a pound. It varies in thickness too much.” She held the slab up on the counter and indicated her best guess with the knife. I said, “Maybe a little more.” She gave me a little more, and it was 1-1/4 pounds. Next time I’m accepting her guess, not that excess bacon is a problem.

Then you braise the bacon. Put it in the oven with some mirepoix, white wine, and chicken broth, and leave it there for about 2-1/2 hours. I’ve done many things with bacon before, but never this. Braised meats tend to give up most of their flavor to the sauce. Braised bacon stays bacony.

One the bacon is braised, you cut it into lardons, crisp it up in a pan with some onions, and stir in some roasted canned tomatoes and olive oil. Top with freshly grated pecorino romano.

The leftover braised bacon ended up in beef bourguignon, and it made the most silky and salty lardons you can imagine.

Chimp-resistant, I could understand

Three items from the vast category of things I just don’t get.

* Every Seattle apartment we’ve lived in has had a 30-inch electric stove. But until we moved into this place, all of them (four different stoves) have had three small burners and one large burner. Why do they make stoves with this configuration? And why does anyone buy them? Geometrically speaking, there’s always room for a second large burner diagonally opposite the first one. Could this possibly save more than $2 per unit? If they’re really looking to save money, why not make a stove with just three burners?

* Some of our dishes are marked “chip-resistant.” Far from being meaningless marketing, these items really are essentially impossible to chip. Others chip if you drop them from a height of six inches, over the rug. But it doesn’t seem to have anything to do with price. Our expensive dessert plates are chip-resistant, and so are some bowls we got for $1.25 each. There’s nothing unusual about the appearance or feel of the chip-resistant pieces. *So why don’t they just make all ceramic chip-resistant?*

* My local supermarket started carrying parsley root a few months ago. I’ve never bought it. I’ve never seen anyone else buy it. But they keep getting shipments in. Do supermarkets carry items that no one buys just so they can maintain an image as the kind of place that caters to the parsley root crowd?

Not that I have anything against parsley root, mind you. I just haven’t gotten around to it. I hear it’s something old Russian women put in soup. If they’re lucky, they cook the soup on a stove with big burners and serve it in chip-resistant bowls.

De-fish-iency

The other night at dinner we were having Babbo Salmon, which is short for salmon seared and served atop a crunchy cucumber salad. Here’s the recipe.

Iris vacillates on salmon. She always likes breaded salmon cakes, but when I serve the unadorned fish, sometimes she wolfs it down like, um, a bear cub and sometimes she turns herbivorous. This time, she wasn’t having it. She watched me and Laurie enjoying our salmon, poked at hers, and said, “Iris didn’t like any salmon.”

Later, one of us asked Iris if she wanted a salmon bite. She frowned and said, “Iris *can’t* like that.”

I know just how she felt. I *wish* I liked real maple syrup. Luckily, Iris got plenty to eat, because I also made crunchy home fried potato, fried in duck fat and finished with a sprinkle of smoked paprika. At one point, there were three little potato cubes left in the bowl, and Laurie said, “Iris, there are just three pieces of potato left. Who are they for?”

Iris lifted the first one out and said, “One for Iris.” Then she ate the other two.

I said, “Iris, you know what makes these potatoes so good? Duck fat.”

“Iris would like to *see* the duck fat!” So I got the container of duck fat out of the fridge and showed her. I think she was disappointed that it didn’t look like an actual duck.

Meal Bandit: The reality and the dream

**Warning:** This post might get techy, but I encourage you to read on anyway even if you don’t know MIPS from bean dips.

I hope you’ve noticed the new Upcoming Dinners feature over in the sidebar (if you’re reading this post via RSS, please click through to the real site and have a look). I put it up yesterday. It looks pretty snazzy, I must say, but it barely required any work. The data comes from my calendar on [30 Boxes](http://www.30boxes.com/) which is by far the best web-based calendar of the jillion out there (and believe me–I’ve tried Trumba, AirSet, SpongeCell, Kiko, Planzo, and some calendars with *even stupider names*.)

How did I do it? I added some upcoming dinners to my calendar (which is also full of exciting things like meetings and babysitting), gave them a tag (“dinner”), and then created a custom badge showing the next five events with the “dinner” tag. Then I edited the HTML a little bit. It took less than ten minutes. It was fun. The future is now.

Why did I do it? I figured if the whole world was watching me plan meals, it would (a) deter me from trying to come up with dinner at 4pm, and (b) push me to try more new stuff for dinner rather than always falling back on old favorites like salmon cakes and sausages and grapes, tasty as they are. Oops, we had sausages and grapes this week, along with some toast that I brushed with olive oil and let Iris scrape with a clove of garlic.

Why does this fill me with emptiness even as I am filled with sausages, grapes, and toast? Because it’s only the first step in fulfilling a dream that may never come true. The name of the dream is Meal Bandit.

I’m curious about what people eat. Not just memorable meals, but day to day stuff. I can’t be the only one. People are buying Tucker Shaw’s book, Everything I Ate, which chronicles everything he ate in 2004. With photos. Here’s what Shaw told Gothamist about why he did it:

> Food magazines are like fashion magazines: They celebrate what’s beautiful, new, or unusual, but very rarely report on what people really wear or eat. If people in the future rely on current food-related media, they’ll think that we eat nothing but ramps and pork bellies all day. Or McDonald’s and Chips Ahoy and low-carb cupcakes. The truth is much broader.

Actually, I could eat ramps and pork bellies all day, but that’s beside the point. Aside from the purely voyeuristic element, hearing about what other people are making for dinner gives me ideas for what to cook myself.

And if _Everything I Ate_ is a niche item, Hungry Planet is a legitimate bestseller. If you haven’t seen it, the idea is simple. A photographer travels the world and talks families into setting out a full week’s worth of food so he can take a picture. It’s an utter page-turner. I believe the mother of the Greenlandic family said her favorite food was fermented narwhal. I’m serious. One of the things I noticed is that the dietitians may be right: to me, the most appetizing diets are the most colorful. The families I really felt sorry for, rich and poor, were the ones that didn’t display an assortment of fresh vegetables. Now, could you please pass the narwhal?

Another way to see what people are eating for dinner is to look at the mighty eGullet dinner thread, the most popular thread on this food discussion site by several orders of magnitude. It was started in 2002 by a user named Priscilla, who wrote, “I am (perhaps inordinately) interested in what folks cook in their own kitchens.”

She got an answer or two. Actually, as of this writing, she has 13,679 answers. People post their dinners on the thread (which runs 456 pages) every single day. Just yesterday, someone named Nina C. made her very first eGullet post, about her dinner of spinach ravioli with goat cheese and green onion with black olive butter sauce and pecorino romano from Mario Batali’s latest book.

The trouble with the eGullet dinner thread (which, don’t get me wrong, is awesome) is that it’s extremely hard to navigate. If you want to see only the dinner-related posts of a certain user, there’s no easy way to do that as far as I know. It’s also skewed toward the kind of food-savvy people who post on eGullet.

##### Enter the Bandit

Meal Bandit, a product I invented, a product that doesn’t exist, provides another way to plan and share what you eat. Simply put, it’s a specialized sharable web calendar. You can plan out future breakfasts, lunches, and dinners (or, if you’re not the planning type, you can enter meals after you eat them). You can then, if you like, tag your meals like you tag your photos on [Flickr](http://www.flickr.com/). If you’re making samosas (or getting them for take-out), you can tag them as “indian, fried”. If you’ve entered your city or zip code in your profile page, your meals will automatically be geographically tagged. That means if you want to find out what kind of Thai dishes people are cooking in 98102, you can easily search for that. (Answer: larb.)

Meal Bandit will not be a way to exchange recipes. There are already tons of sites like that. You will be able to specify the source (URL or name of a book or magazine) of a dish, though, and leave comments on other people’s meals asking for more information. There will also be a way to give props to meals that sound great, and then see popular meals. If you are a guy, getting your home-cooked meals onto the Meal Bandit top ten list will be a guaranteed way to meet women.

Of course, there will be ubiquitous feeds. Every search will return an RSS feed, like on Craigslist. There will be webcal feeds so you can put your own meals onto Apple’s iCal or any other calendar that supports the iCalendar format–including 30 Boxes. And like 30 Boxes (and many other sites), Meal Bandit will produce HTML or Flash badges that you can put on your blog or Myspace page. Like this one, from Australia:

Upcoming dinners

Apr 8: shrimps on the barbie

Apr 9: shrimps on the barbie

Apr 10: shrimps on the barbie

As with Flickr, if you don’t want to share with the whole world, Meal Bandit will allow you to keep your meals private or share them only with your friends. But if the last couple of years on the web has taught us anything, it’s that people are willing to share *everything* online. I guess once the masses understood that it was safe to pay by credit card on the web, it was a short line from there to uploading naked pictures of yourself. Sharing what you eat for dinner is pretty tame compared to the average LiveJournal.

In principle, you could do pretty much all of this stuff with a site like [Eventful](http://www.eventful.com/) or [Upcoming.org](http://www.upcoming.org/). But those sites are really geared toward public events, so a site that filtered out all the non-meal noise would be more fun.

I want to know what people are eating in Ireland, India, and Iceland. Don’t you? Let’s have a look at the current state of Meal Bandit:

[http://www.mealbandit.com/](http://www.mealbandit.com)

It’s kind of sad that the holding page was smart enough to figure out that the word “meal” is in there, but not the word “bandit.” Are there really no good bandit-related searches? Anyway, it turns out my web programming skills are stuck in 1999. Anyone need a CGI script written in Perl? Didn’t think so.

I bought a book about Ruby on Rails, which is the hippest web programming environment of the moment, but there’s just no way I’m going to code this puppy up myself. So I’m asking for your help. Are you the kind of person who wants to work on a fun web application in your spare time for no pay? Join the Meal Bandit team. I don’t care where in the world you are, as long as you love food and can code RoR. I will head up the UI part. We will get a [Basecamp](http://www.basecamphq.com/) account and go to town. Let’s slap this together and get bought by Google (or Epicurious) at the end of the summer.

If you think Meal Bandit sounds like fun and have any feature ideas or think I’ve gotten part of it wrong, please leave a comment.

Oh, incidentally, here are some names I rejected: Foodpad, Dinner Demon, Eatpad, Dinnr.