The Things I've Made...

Lately, I've been a klutz in the kitchen. I've been ruining sauces, overcooking vegetables, and basically wreaking havoc upon my food. Apparently, I've turned a corner. Not surprisingly, the corner was turned at the end of this hellish semester (see last post), so I've had the time and foresight to focus more on cooking. Let me tell you about it. 


The other night, I made risotto. This time, it was perfect. More like a vegetarian paella than risotto, I made it with habanero pepper, lime, zucchini, onion, and a touch of curry powder. Surprisingly delicious. Risotto is about patience. 


Tonight, I made a simple pasta dish using lemon, basil, garlic, olive oil, caramelized onion, and cheese (aged gouda). Both meals were exceedingly simple and tasty, and took not more than an hour to make. I drank a Carmenere that I paid very little for, but was altogether very satisfying.   


Summer, as it turns out, is a wonderful time to cook. Light dishes are the order of the day, and we can bring a bit of variety back into the kitchen. I'd been getting so tired of root vegetables and bad produce at the store, that I had forgotten what warm weather can bring. And, while no one here will ever understand the joys of peaches from a peach stand in the middle of nowhere, there's still a lot of good food to be taken advantage of (even this far north!).  


I will regale you with more tales of food soon. But now, to bed! 

The Glory of Doing Nothing

Finally, and at long last, the semester is over. Literally, and without exaggeration, this will go down as the single worst semester of my academic career. I've had bad semesters before, but this one took the prize. Without my glorious Introduction to Acting class, I would have been lost at sea.  I'd have left without a by-your-leave, and taken up on a schooner bound for the Indies. Like you do, when things get bad. 

Now I am, as promised, drinking a Sauvignon Blanc on my patio on this most glorious of spring days. I would tell you which one it was, but I didn't really care for it. I got it from what has become the single most sub-standard wine shop in the Boston area: Grapevine Travelers. This place used to be decent, but then it was sold and the new owners clearly have no earthly idea about anything having to do with wine. I doubt they would know a grape if I put one in front of them. However, they are VERY close to my house, and this makes them tempting. Now, if you want some wine, you need to go to The Wine and Cheese Cask near Inman Square. Sure, its a walk from the T, but totally worth your while. They have a fantastic selection of wines, beers, liquors, and cheeses from all over the world. If I ever need, say, a bottle of Calvados or Grappe, this is where I go. I can't recommend the place highly enough. 

In fact, I love Inman Square (and its surrounds) because it is home to several establishments that I have sentimental attachments to. For one thing, Dali is wonderful, as is Bukowski's and the Druid. Christina's has great cheap ice cream (fuck off, J.P. Licks), and the spice shop right beside it is fantastic. If I could justify living in this neighborhood, I would, but I would be far less frugal than I am now. 

Now, there is some cause for excitement. The farmer's markets are nearly open! I'm very excited about this because, you know, I'm into the whole 'local food' thing, and I like the Davis Square market a lot. I'll have to let you know what I get, and where, and all that other goodness. Oh, and I'm going to make pasta soon. No really. Like within the next few days. Then I'll talk about it, and these roasted veggie sandwiches I made. For now though, I'm going to probably have another drink and relish the dusk. 

I bid you peace. 

Something Old, Something New...

I know, I know...I haven't posted in almost a month. Will I relieve your pain by posting all of my updates, reviews, cooking trials and tribulations right now? No. Will I promise to update by the end of the week? Yes. Am I being consumed alive by papers? Yes. 


However, it will soon be over, and I have promised myself not to work for a few days thereafter. During that time I will sit down with a glass of Sauvignon Blanc and type my little heart out on the porch. Just for you. I will also cook some amazing and delicious things. Just for you. I promise. 

Dinner again...

So, enough of my philosophical musings. Let's talk food. 

I made dinner for four people the other night. I made: 

Risotto: Butternut Squash, Maple-Cured Bacon, Crispy Sage

Crispy Roasted Duck: Haricot Vert, Watercress, Vinaigrette

Two very simple dishes, but fairly tasty and easy to serve to many people at once. Boston in the Spring can be a bit chill, and I find duck and risotto to be optimal comfort foods. The key with duck is to let it roast for three hours on 250, allowing the fat to drain out of the skin through holes that you have poked in it. Then you raise the temperature up high (375) and let it get a little smoky (turn off the fire alarm) so that the skin crisps. I did some things wrong here, so learn from my mistakes. First, you have to turn the duck breast side down for those three hours. In my haste to get it in the oven, I forgot this for the first hour and not enough of the fat drained out. So, not crispy enough. Second, I couldn't make up for this mistake when I turned up the temp. because I allowed some of the fat to drip down to the bottom of the oven. That's a real problem, because duck fat burns at low temperatures, and smokes a lot. Also, you must have the duck directly on a rack if you don't have a proper roasting pan, or nothing will ever get crispy because it will roast in its own juices. Now, no one was complaining about the duck, but these are things that can be prevented. 

Risotto has a pretty good wow factor, partially because you can't make it ahead. If you have an open kitchen, you can mingle and make your risotto while your guests enjoy cocktails and marvel at your culinary prowess :) My risotto needed more butter and half and half at the end. This makes a world of difference. As it was, my risotto got a bit too gloppy, and much less smooth than I prefer. I also could have used a dash more stock at the end. You have to be careful about your stock, because if you use too much at the end you're going to come out with something like rice soup. If you use too little, you get the consistency of oatmeal. You have to taste it constantly to make sure you're going to reach al dente at the right moment. In short: simple concept, temperamental process. 

Now, if you want something that is easily made ahead, then you can make pasta. I make ravioli because you can roll it and cut it without the aid of a machine. That's probably my next dinner escapade. Honestly, I made so much of it not too long ago that I felt like I was becoming a one hit wonder and decided to move on to other things. However, like my defunct penchant for Lady Gaga, I feel like it might be a good time to bring back an old favorite. What should I put in my ravioli, dear readers? What delicious cheeses, vegetables, or meats can I shove into my protean pieces of pasta? Are ravioli sexy?  I welcome your commentary on this matter, as well as people willing to taste my culinary cornucopia. All right, I'm done with the alliteration. Seriously.

I bid you peace. 

Old News...

Looking over old papers, I found one from about two years ago, here in severely altered format. I was just getting out of school for the second time, and this paper was my final for the English Capstone course. Hopelessly confident and idealistic, I wrote it on ethical and moral contingency in Iain Pears The Dream of Scipio, a book I still return to even now to remind myself of my ethical process.  


Reading this paper again, I find I have become far more cynical in the past two years than even Iris Murdoch, who writes:  


"Good is mysterious because of human frailty, because of the immense distance which is involved. If there were angels they might be able to define good but we would not understand the definition. We are largely mechanical creatures, the slaves of relentlessly strong selfish forces the nature of which we scarcely comprehend. At best, as decent persons, we are usually very specialized . We behave well in areas where this can be done fairly easily and let other areas of possible virtue remain undeveloped...the self is a divided thing and the whole of it cannot be redeemed any more than it can be known" (Murdoch, The Sovereignty of Good, 89).


Now I'm a little older, a little less wide-eyed, this reads truer than it ever did before. Goodness, such as it exists, is a fragile and rare thing. I thought then that it might be all the more beautiful because it happens so infrequently. The question I ask myself now is again existential and spiritual, but framed very differently. Whereas in my paper I saw the Good as glorious because of its mysteriousness, as good because of its nearly unreachable place in the sun (see the Allegory of the Cave), I now see it as opaque and unattainable: a world of darkness punctuated only by haphazard flashes of insight and selflessness. How do we find salvation when so much of our capacity to do good is outside our control?

The only light I can find here is the same one that Murdoch and Pears find: we invariably sacrifice to protect and nurture the things we love (or think we love) whether or not that seems right. Now, often the thing we love is ourselves, or a figment, or an outright lie, but nonetheless it is nearly always out of a kind of love that we act. Does it suffice then, that we act on occasion out of love for the other? Is that enough to save us (and I don't mean 'save us' only in the protestant Christian sense, in terms of personal salvation, but more in terms of palpable communities and relationships)? I don't really know anymore. I know only that we could stand to talk about it more, struggle with it more, and stop being self-righteous about it.

To close, I plagiarize myself of two years ago:

"Presupposing a Platonic divinity, and thinking back on the influence of Scipio’s remarkable text, what is to keep the liberal-ironist from becoming disheartened by the implication that what an individual perceives as “the Good” may simply be the false reflection of the divine, or as also posited, the mistranslation of historical fragments? What if “the warmth and light of the sun” merely implicates us all in a lie of reflection, where all of our ethical and moral choices represent at least as much wrong as right (if not more)? At the end of the day, the ironists may find themselves racked by “resentment, fantasy, and despair. The refusal to attend may even induce a fictitious sense of freedom: I may as well toss a coin" (Murdoch, 77, 89).

If nothing else seems transparent, it seems clear that we can never afford to "toss a coin."

I bid you peace. 

So, Not so Frugal...

When a friend invited me to Craigie-On-Main for 'research,' I simply couldn't resist. Let me warn you in advance that this is not a frugal dinner. Dinner at Craigie is a sensual excess, an inspiration to the amateur chef, and a reminder that food has the power to change your life. 

Craigie specializes in fresh, organic, local food. That goes for everything from their meat to their cocktails. Their menu changes daily, dependent on the market. The list of their local farm suppliers is on the back of their menu, but you don't need to see that because you can taste it. 

Stepping into Craigie from the cold, rainy evening was like stepping into another world. With a  totally open kitchen facing the doorway, the impression was of well-controlled chaos as chefs performed their intricate dance in the tight passages between lowboys and hot fry pans. The environment was that of a bistro, with warm decorative touches amidst elegant but homey surrounds.  Tables were farther apart than at Ten Tables, giving everyone a little bit more room to have intimate conversation. 

We had, of course, the six course tasting menu. The ten course was a bit too steep, and the six is very satisfying in terms of portion size. To start (and yes, it was different than the sample menu) we had three amuse-bouche: first squid noodles with crispy roasted garlic, then house cured salmon, then fried Maine clam with squid ink. All of these were delicious, but my favorite was by far the house cured salmon, which was worth dying for. 

Second course was sashimi-grade tuna with a chili vinegar, ginger harissa, and avocado. Third was a striped bass, cooked to perfection, on a ramp sauce. Fourth was chicken leg comfit and boudin noir with a micro-green salad and poached egg. By the fifth course, I was unclear what I was eating anymore, but I knew that it was delicious. I remember eating a succulent rib and crispy pork belly and zucchini pasta in a pork ragout. 

Finally, and this needs a separate mention, I cannot begin to describe the joy and comfort of bone marrow on toast. I have had few culinary experiences that were more hedonistic, rich, and other-worldly. Served right out of the bone it came from, the marrow is silky smooth and creamy, buttery and earthy. In other words, exactly what one needs on a rainy evening. 

The meal ended with homemade sorbet as a palette cleanser, followed directly by a kind of napoleon with chocolate and a banana foam. 

Now, Craigie also has some of the better cocktails I've ever had, and they would give Gargoyles a run for their money.  I can only remember that I had the Northern Lights and St. Bruno, and both were fresh, refreshing, and properly made. That brings up the service actually, because my first drink was late arriving and therefore was immediately taken off of the bill. The service was crisp but informal, and all of the staff were attentive. We were left to finish our meal in peace (one of my pet peeves is when wait staff try to take my plate before I'm done with it or otherwise pester me). 

Well, I'm smitten with this place, but I won't be able to afford it again for another year. Here's to eating! 

I bid you peace. 

Nailin' Palin...

I don't really want to talk much about Sarah Palin, but I ran into the Weekly Dig's winning protest cover for the event. Check it out. They are right about the WTF appeal and the clean design. And yes, there was a porn of the same title (Nailin' Palin) developed during the last presidential campaign. I have no idea how I know this. No, really, I don't remember. 


What morons these people are. No wonder they've become so popular.