The posts below this are imports from my old blog, Brand New Day. I'm letting that blog go, mainly because I don't want or need to pay to maintain a blog I rarely post to. I've preserved some of my most recent posts, which really aren't all that recent.
Just to add something here: I have nothing against Beyonce, really, I don't. It snowed for much of the day, so I stayed indoors and did laundry, baked bread (a new, reduced kneading recipe that is much better than the no-knead recipe discussed below), updated my rubber stamp ink database, etc. I've had the television playing in the background for several hours. Beyonce's ad for DirecTV has played several times. I don't get it. What does Beyonce gyrating and singing in various states of undress have to do with getting an upgrade on DirecTV? What does Beyonce gyrating and singing have to do with any product or service for that matter? Well, I guess nonsensical commercials like the "Lemme, Lemme Upgrade" DirecTV spot have made Beyonce the richest celebrity under the age of 30. The commercial was stupid when it started airing about a year ago. It is not less stupid now. Please stop it DirecTV, please!
Saturday, December 06, 2008
The ESPN Jinx
Is there an ESPN Jinx?
We’re all familiar with the Sports Illustrated Jinx: athletes have uncannily started losing, become injured, or even died within a short time of appearing on the cover of the magazine. I woke up on June 7th to hear one of the ESPN Radio blowhards going on and on about how Big Brown, this year’s winner of the Kentucky Derby and the Preakness, was a shoo-in to win the Belmont Stakes. After all, the horse’s main competition was injured and likely to withdraw and the rest of the field was a bunch of nags. “Ugh," I thought. "Another ESPN commentator guaranteeing that someone (or some animal) is going to win." That was pretty much a guarantee that Big Brown would not win. Didn’t the ESPN hyperbole machine learn anything from their “The Patriots Are the Best Team Ever” nonsense earlier this year? In January and February, all those radio knot heads could talk about was that there was no way that the Patriots could lose; Tom Brady was an A-list celebrity; Tom Brady was the best quarterback ever, blah, blah, blah! Only, there was a way the Patriots could lose—The New York Giants beat them. Imagine that. Last summer, ESPN downplayed the suspicions that Barry Bonds had used performance-enhancing drugs as he marched toward Hank Aaron’s home run record. For weeks on end, I endured several of their sports “journalists “opine that the suspicions about Bonds didn’t matter—breaking the home run record would still be a great achievement, nothing had ever been proven about Bonds, everybody does it, someone who is clean (such as Alex Rodriguez) would break the record in a few years anyway, and on and on. The contortions The ESPN on-air talent went through were mindboggling. A few months after Bonds broke the record, he found himself facing a federal indictment on charges of perjury and obstruction of justice. He is for all intents and purposes out of the game of baseball.
Just today, their Saturday morning blatherers kept saying that they weren't diggin' the primetime showings of the U.S. Open golf tournament. While it was hardly a jinx, since the ESPN personalities didn't guarantee that anyone would win, Tiger Woods made them out to be fools. He had an incredible round that included two eagles, one of them allowing him to seize the lead at the 18th hole. I doubt that NBC is regretting the decision to show the tournament in prime time.
Would that ESPN’s current crop of sportscasters would learn something from Jim McKay, who died on the day of the Belmont at the age of 86. He made sports broadcasting touching, human, poignant, and grand without any of the bombast that most current sportscasters fall into. McKay loved horse races, and certainly would have conveyed the excitement of Big Brown’s potential to be the first Triple Crown winner in 30 years. But he would not have bought into the inevitability theme and cheap hype that pervades ESPN. Had he been in New York, he would have talked not only of Big Brown, but of the other horses, their trainers, their jockeys, their stories. He would have made us realize that yes, Big Brown was the favorite, but it was too early for a coronation. After Big Brown’s stumble from third place to dead last, McKay would have said something eloquent on the fly to convey the heartbreak of Big Brown and his jockey while also lauding the victor. Today’s combined ESPN/ABC coverage immediately focused on Big Brown’s “stunning” loss as soon as Da’Tara crossed the finish line. A horse at 38-1 odds led the Belmont wire to wire, and ESPN/ABC decided to immediately rerun the race, with visual effects focused not on how Da’Tara won, but on how Big Brown lost. McKay knew when to speak and what to say, and more importantly, what not to say. Would that his former colleagues at ESPN/ABC followed his example.
We’re all familiar with the Sports Illustrated Jinx: athletes have uncannily started losing, become injured, or even died within a short time of appearing on the cover of the magazine. I woke up on June 7th to hear one of the ESPN Radio blowhards going on and on about how Big Brown, this year’s winner of the Kentucky Derby and the Preakness, was a shoo-in to win the Belmont Stakes. After all, the horse’s main competition was injured and likely to withdraw and the rest of the field was a bunch of nags. “Ugh," I thought. "Another ESPN commentator guaranteeing that someone (or some animal) is going to win." That was pretty much a guarantee that Big Brown would not win. Didn’t the ESPN hyperbole machine learn anything from their “The Patriots Are the Best Team Ever” nonsense earlier this year? In January and February, all those radio knot heads could talk about was that there was no way that the Patriots could lose; Tom Brady was an A-list celebrity; Tom Brady was the best quarterback ever, blah, blah, blah! Only, there was a way the Patriots could lose—The New York Giants beat them. Imagine that. Last summer, ESPN downplayed the suspicions that Barry Bonds had used performance-enhancing drugs as he marched toward Hank Aaron’s home run record. For weeks on end, I endured several of their sports “journalists “opine that the suspicions about Bonds didn’t matter—breaking the home run record would still be a great achievement, nothing had ever been proven about Bonds, everybody does it, someone who is clean (such as Alex Rodriguez) would break the record in a few years anyway, and on and on. The contortions The ESPN on-air talent went through were mindboggling. A few months after Bonds broke the record, he found himself facing a federal indictment on charges of perjury and obstruction of justice. He is for all intents and purposes out of the game of baseball.
Just today, their Saturday morning blatherers kept saying that they weren't diggin' the primetime showings of the U.S. Open golf tournament. While it was hardly a jinx, since the ESPN personalities didn't guarantee that anyone would win, Tiger Woods made them out to be fools. He had an incredible round that included two eagles, one of them allowing him to seize the lead at the 18th hole. I doubt that NBC is regretting the decision to show the tournament in prime time.
Would that ESPN’s current crop of sportscasters would learn something from Jim McKay, who died on the day of the Belmont at the age of 86. He made sports broadcasting touching, human, poignant, and grand without any of the bombast that most current sportscasters fall into. McKay loved horse races, and certainly would have conveyed the excitement of Big Brown’s potential to be the first Triple Crown winner in 30 years. But he would not have bought into the inevitability theme and cheap hype that pervades ESPN. Had he been in New York, he would have talked not only of Big Brown, but of the other horses, their trainers, their jockeys, their stories. He would have made us realize that yes, Big Brown was the favorite, but it was too early for a coronation. After Big Brown’s stumble from third place to dead last, McKay would have said something eloquent on the fly to convey the heartbreak of Big Brown and his jockey while also lauding the victor. Today’s combined ESPN/ABC coverage immediately focused on Big Brown’s “stunning” loss as soon as Da’Tara crossed the finish line. A horse at 38-1 odds led the Belmont wire to wire, and ESPN/ABC decided to immediately rerun the race, with visual effects focused not on how Da’Tara won, but on how Big Brown lost. McKay knew when to speak and what to say, and more importantly, what not to say. Would that his former colleagues at ESPN/ABC followed his example.
Is There a Need for No-Knead Bread?
I'm not sure. I tried making the no-knead soft wheat bread from a recent article in The Washington Post. (The article can be found here.) I'm about to start my annual holiday baking/candymaking bonanza, and have also been wanting to get back to baking my own bread on a regular basis. The weather forecast was going to call for staying in this weekend, so I thought, "Why not try it?"
I've been fascinated with baking bread for years. I've more cookbooks and recipes than I'll ever use. I'm pretty traditionalist, but not to the extreme of attempting to do artisan breads at home. Since I like sandwiches, and no longer have the free time to bake, I've had to break down and start buying bread from the store the last couple of years. Even the best store-bought bread is no substitute for home-made. Unless your store happens to be an artisan bakery, I guess. So, just in time for December's baking frenzy, the Post runs a story on easy homemade bread. Yes, it sounded too good to be true and called for instant yeast--something I have never purchased or used for bread baking--but the recipe seemed worth a try. I was doubtful, very doubtful, even with the assurance from food chemist and baking expert Shirley Corriher that the stir-and-sit method would work.
Still, I gave it a whirl, or a stir, rather, and decided that even if the bread wasn't all that was promised, it would still probably taste good. I chose to make the No-Knead Light Wheat Bread. The article also includes recipes for cinnamon raisin bread, soft rolls, and a rustic caraway bread. The mixing was easy enough. Basically, you whisk together the dry ingredients, add melted butter or vegetable oil and water, then stir vigorously until everything is combined. Then you have to cover the mixing bowl tightly with plastic wrap and set the bowl aside to rise for 12 to 18 hours. The recipe uses instant yeast because it works very well in recipes that call for mixing in the yeast with dry ingredients rather than proofing the yeast (proving the liveliness) in warm water. Both the main article and the preface to the recipes make out proofing to be some dicey trick that foils beginning bread bakers. Proofing yeast is tricky in the same way that melting chocolate is tricky--meaning that it is not tricky at all. This is proofing: You get some warm water (or other liquid), a little sugar or honey, sprinkle on the yeast, whisk to mix everything and dissolve the yeast. Set the mixture aside for 10 to 15 minutes to allow the yeast to foam. Any reasonably intelligent child could proof yeast. [The "trick" to melting chocolate: Get a pan. Put the chocolate into the pan. Set pan on stove eye on lowest possible heat. Stir chocolate on occasion. Remove pan from heat just before the chocolate is completely melted. Stir chocolate to complete the melting off the heat. No seizing, no scorching, no need for a double boiler. Honest to God, I've melted countless pounds of chocolate this way for probably 25 or 30 years and haven't ruined any yet.]
I let the dough rise for the full 18 hours, before stirring to deflate it and pouring it into a well-oiled 9x5x3 loaf pan. It was nice to get to use the larger loaf pan. I purchased several large loaf pans years ago before realizing that most bread recipes work better in the smaller 8 1/2 x4 1/2 pans. The dough did have to be poured into the pan. The long rise was no substitute for a 10-minute kneading. Then again, I don't suppose that the long, cool rise is supposed to give a result like a kneaded loaf. It is supposed to make bread that tastes good, even if the looks and texture (very soft) are a little off-putting. As per the recipe's instructions, I covered the loaf pan tightly with plastic wrap and let the dough rise to almost the top of the pan--that took about an hour. The plastic wrap has to be removed for the last bit of the rising, so that it does not come into contact with the dough and possibly deflate it. The bread is then cooked at a fairly high temperature--425 degrees F--for about half an hour. I thought that the bread would burn at that temperature, but that large amount of wet dough needs a higher temperature, or at least seems to.
The finished loaf had a nice, if almost too-yeasty, flavor, a very tender crumb, and a flat top. The crust was good, but thin. The bread was extremely moist, but it was thoroughly cooked. I took the precaution of using a thermometer to check the internal temperature, which was about 200 degrees F. The real question: Would I bake this again? Probably, but I will try the rolls next time. The soft crumb seemed more suitable for rolls than bread, especially if you want to use the bread for sandwiches. The bread is too moist and tender to make a really good sandwich. I also miss the nice hump that kneaded bread gets as it rises above the top of the pan. No-knead bread tends to spread rather than rise once it reaches the pan rim. The cool rise does develop the gluten some, but not enough to really get the bread to hold together without a pan to confine it. This no-knead dough is flaccid and shapeless to a degree that is limiting to the baker--and the bread. Most traditional yeast breads are kneaded to develop the gluten in the flour enough that making free-form loaves is an option. Kneaded bread holds its shape, even on a jelly-roll pan. This new method dough must be enclosed within the confines or a pan, whether it be a muffin tin, a loaf pan, or a Dutch oven. Also, I'm not sure why this same method couldn't be adapted with regular yeast that is proofed in warm water before the dry ingredients are added. If the dough has to rise for 12 hours, what is an extra 10 minutes for proofing going to matter?
My chief complaint isn't with the bread itself but with the tone of the article and the perceived need to develop recipes for bread that requires no kneading, no watching, no learning the feel of the dough, and no actual learning about baking. Sure, the article quotes Corriher and other experts about the benefits of the long, cool, no-knead method of baking bread. But it is as if the writer is trying too hard to convince the skeptical--and I count myself among them--that everything we learned about bread baking no longer applies. There is also an assumption that traditional recipes for bread are just too, too difficult for modern cooks. Omigosh! The proofing, the kneading, the shaping, the watching the dough rise! Good heavens! The mess, the tricks, the flour on the cutting board! Baking bread is just too, too difficult! No one can do it unless it is made as simple as possible! This attitude isn't food snobbery so much as food why-bothery. I'll likely bake this bread again, but it is no replacement for the traditional stuff, er, staff.
I've been fascinated with baking bread for years. I've more cookbooks and recipes than I'll ever use. I'm pretty traditionalist, but not to the extreme of attempting to do artisan breads at home. Since I like sandwiches, and no longer have the free time to bake, I've had to break down and start buying bread from the store the last couple of years. Even the best store-bought bread is no substitute for home-made. Unless your store happens to be an artisan bakery, I guess. So, just in time for December's baking frenzy, the Post runs a story on easy homemade bread. Yes, it sounded too good to be true and called for instant yeast--something I have never purchased or used for bread baking--but the recipe seemed worth a try. I was doubtful, very doubtful, even with the assurance from food chemist and baking expert Shirley Corriher that the stir-and-sit method would work.
Still, I gave it a whirl, or a stir, rather, and decided that even if the bread wasn't all that was promised, it would still probably taste good. I chose to make the No-Knead Light Wheat Bread. The article also includes recipes for cinnamon raisin bread, soft rolls, and a rustic caraway bread. The mixing was easy enough. Basically, you whisk together the dry ingredients, add melted butter or vegetable oil and water, then stir vigorously until everything is combined. Then you have to cover the mixing bowl tightly with plastic wrap and set the bowl aside to rise for 12 to 18 hours. The recipe uses instant yeast because it works very well in recipes that call for mixing in the yeast with dry ingredients rather than proofing the yeast (proving the liveliness) in warm water. Both the main article and the preface to the recipes make out proofing to be some dicey trick that foils beginning bread bakers. Proofing yeast is tricky in the same way that melting chocolate is tricky--meaning that it is not tricky at all. This is proofing: You get some warm water (or other liquid), a little sugar or honey, sprinkle on the yeast, whisk to mix everything and dissolve the yeast. Set the mixture aside for 10 to 15 minutes to allow the yeast to foam. Any reasonably intelligent child could proof yeast. [The "trick" to melting chocolate: Get a pan. Put the chocolate into the pan. Set pan on stove eye on lowest possible heat. Stir chocolate on occasion. Remove pan from heat just before the chocolate is completely melted. Stir chocolate to complete the melting off the heat. No seizing, no scorching, no need for a double boiler. Honest to God, I've melted countless pounds of chocolate this way for probably 25 or 30 years and haven't ruined any yet.]
I let the dough rise for the full 18 hours, before stirring to deflate it and pouring it into a well-oiled 9x5x3 loaf pan. It was nice to get to use the larger loaf pan. I purchased several large loaf pans years ago before realizing that most bread recipes work better in the smaller 8 1/2 x4 1/2 pans. The dough did have to be poured into the pan. The long rise was no substitute for a 10-minute kneading. Then again, I don't suppose that the long, cool rise is supposed to give a result like a kneaded loaf. It is supposed to make bread that tastes good, even if the looks and texture (very soft) are a little off-putting. As per the recipe's instructions, I covered the loaf pan tightly with plastic wrap and let the dough rise to almost the top of the pan--that took about an hour. The plastic wrap has to be removed for the last bit of the rising, so that it does not come into contact with the dough and possibly deflate it. The bread is then cooked at a fairly high temperature--425 degrees F--for about half an hour. I thought that the bread would burn at that temperature, but that large amount of wet dough needs a higher temperature, or at least seems to.
The finished loaf had a nice, if almost too-yeasty, flavor, a very tender crumb, and a flat top. The crust was good, but thin. The bread was extremely moist, but it was thoroughly cooked. I took the precaution of using a thermometer to check the internal temperature, which was about 200 degrees F. The real question: Would I bake this again? Probably, but I will try the rolls next time. The soft crumb seemed more suitable for rolls than bread, especially if you want to use the bread for sandwiches. The bread is too moist and tender to make a really good sandwich. I also miss the nice hump that kneaded bread gets as it rises above the top of the pan. No-knead bread tends to spread rather than rise once it reaches the pan rim. The cool rise does develop the gluten some, but not enough to really get the bread to hold together without a pan to confine it. This no-knead dough is flaccid and shapeless to a degree that is limiting to the baker--and the bread. Most traditional yeast breads are kneaded to develop the gluten in the flour enough that making free-form loaves is an option. Kneaded bread holds its shape, even on a jelly-roll pan. This new method dough must be enclosed within the confines or a pan, whether it be a muffin tin, a loaf pan, or a Dutch oven. Also, I'm not sure why this same method couldn't be adapted with regular yeast that is proofed in warm water before the dry ingredients are added. If the dough has to rise for 12 hours, what is an extra 10 minutes for proofing going to matter?
My chief complaint isn't with the bread itself but with the tone of the article and the perceived need to develop recipes for bread that requires no kneading, no watching, no learning the feel of the dough, and no actual learning about baking. Sure, the article quotes Corriher and other experts about the benefits of the long, cool, no-knead method of baking bread. But it is as if the writer is trying too hard to convince the skeptical--and I count myself among them--that everything we learned about bread baking no longer applies. There is also an assumption that traditional recipes for bread are just too, too difficult for modern cooks. Omigosh! The proofing, the kneading, the shaping, the watching the dough rise! Good heavens! The mess, the tricks, the flour on the cutting board! Baking bread is just too, too difficult! No one can do it unless it is made as simple as possible! This attitude isn't food snobbery so much as food why-bothery. I'll likely bake this bread again, but it is no replacement for the traditional stuff, er, staff.
I Dream of Dressing
With Thanksgiving dinner just a few short hours away, I’m waiting for the rolls to bake and dreaming of dressing. My family usually eats dressing only once a year, although I was able to talk my mother into making it last April for my birthday.
I guess I should make something clear from the beginning. What occupies my dreams and makes me salivate in anticipation more than any other Thanksgiving dish is dressing—not stuffing. Dressing is made of pretty much the same components of stuffing, but is cooked in a casserole dish (sometimes, two or three casserole dishes) and is not put inside the bird. I've always eaten either my mother's or my grandmother's dressing at Thanksgiving. I've never eaten a stuffed turkey, and don't particularly want to. Dressing is fragrant with celery, onions, sage, butter (there’s just no getting away from it), turkey or chicken stock, cornbread, and whatever other dried bread my mother chooses to use. Some years she uses focaccia cubes, other times she puts in homemade whole-wheat croutons. Dressing that is made in a casserole dish is golden and crunchy on top. You can't get that golden crunchiness in a stuffing that is cooked inside a turkey. To my mouth, stuffing is mushy and unappetizing.Unlike a lot of recipes I’ve seen and eaten, my mother’s dressing contains no eggs. Broth, butter, and sautéed celery and onions are all that is needed to bind it. You’ll not ever eat sausage, oysters, or chestnuts in dressing from her kitchen. And I promise you, you wouldn’t miss them.
The key to good dressing is its simplicity: basically dried bread, sage, and aromatic vegetables bound together with broth and butter. Dressing is crunchy and brown on top, moist but not mushy underneath. Touched with giblet gravy, it is truly something to be thankful for. If there is food in heaven, it must be Mom’s dressing. Several years ago I was deep into an obsession with baking Italian breads in October and November. Whatever was not eaten was made into croutons and dutifully passed on to my mother to work her special magic for that Thanksgiving’s dressing.
After the dinner, when we had a chance to look back on it and assign it a place among all the Thanksgivings we could remember, we all decided that it was the best Thanksgiving ever (in terms of food), and that the dressing was in large part responsible. I was so proud to have had a hand in the dressing that year. That is the only time I ever contributed to the dressing in any way. My mother is more than capable of making the best part of Thanksgiving dinner on her own. I try to help by making other things: rolls, cranberry sauce, and dessert. Making those things allows Mom to have room in her oven and time in her day to make the dressing. Mom doesn’t know it yet, but we are having pumpkin pie—it just wouldn’t be Thanksgiving without it, after all. But if I had to choose between having a pumpkin pie or Mom’s dressing—a choice one should never have to make— the dressing would win out hands down. Happy Thanksgiving!
I guess I should make something clear from the beginning. What occupies my dreams and makes me salivate in anticipation more than any other Thanksgiving dish is dressing—not stuffing. Dressing is made of pretty much the same components of stuffing, but is cooked in a casserole dish (sometimes, two or three casserole dishes) and is not put inside the bird. I've always eaten either my mother's or my grandmother's dressing at Thanksgiving. I've never eaten a stuffed turkey, and don't particularly want to. Dressing is fragrant with celery, onions, sage, butter (there’s just no getting away from it), turkey or chicken stock, cornbread, and whatever other dried bread my mother chooses to use. Some years she uses focaccia cubes, other times she puts in homemade whole-wheat croutons. Dressing that is made in a casserole dish is golden and crunchy on top. You can't get that golden crunchiness in a stuffing that is cooked inside a turkey. To my mouth, stuffing is mushy and unappetizing.Unlike a lot of recipes I’ve seen and eaten, my mother’s dressing contains no eggs. Broth, butter, and sautéed celery and onions are all that is needed to bind it. You’ll not ever eat sausage, oysters, or chestnuts in dressing from her kitchen. And I promise you, you wouldn’t miss them.
The key to good dressing is its simplicity: basically dried bread, sage, and aromatic vegetables bound together with broth and butter. Dressing is crunchy and brown on top, moist but not mushy underneath. Touched with giblet gravy, it is truly something to be thankful for. If there is food in heaven, it must be Mom’s dressing. Several years ago I was deep into an obsession with baking Italian breads in October and November. Whatever was not eaten was made into croutons and dutifully passed on to my mother to work her special magic for that Thanksgiving’s dressing.
After the dinner, when we had a chance to look back on it and assign it a place among all the Thanksgivings we could remember, we all decided that it was the best Thanksgiving ever (in terms of food), and that the dressing was in large part responsible. I was so proud to have had a hand in the dressing that year. That is the only time I ever contributed to the dressing in any way. My mother is more than capable of making the best part of Thanksgiving dinner on her own. I try to help by making other things: rolls, cranberry sauce, and dessert. Making those things allows Mom to have room in her oven and time in her day to make the dressing. Mom doesn’t know it yet, but we are having pumpkin pie—it just wouldn’t be Thanksgiving without it, after all. But if I had to choose between having a pumpkin pie or Mom’s dressing—a choice one should never have to make— the dressing would win out hands down. Happy Thanksgiving!
Sunday Dinner, Nigella Style
It feels strange to be writing again. To be doing much of anything again. I’m going to depart from the usual topics and write about cooking, specifically, what I made for Sunday dinner recently. I’ve been watching Nigella Express on the Food Network the last few weeks. In one episode, she made pork chops in a creamy mustard sauce, the base of which was hard cider. I liked the idea of it, but didn’t want to look for hard cider or to cook the thin chops she did. I’ve always thought that thin chops can be overcooked too easily to make them worth bothering with. I bought thicker, bone-in chops—aren’t I sounding just a little Nigella-ish—and sub stituted a can of low-sodium chicken broth for the cider. After searing and then cooking g the chops for a few minutes on each side, I removed them from the pan, covered them with foil, and set them aside.
Then the real work—and fun—began. I had to make the gravy. As the daughter of the world’s best gravy maker, it is embarrassing to confess to having mediocre skills in that area. Gravy making is one of my cooking weak spots, sorto like pie pastry. I can make good sauces, breads, cakes, cookies, candies, etc. But something about pie crust and gravy is beyond my skills, such as they are. Nevertheless, on that day, I felt unusually confident. I added about a tablespoon of canola oil to the pan along with maybe a quarter cup of flour, scraped up the browned bits, then cooked the roux for a couple of minutes. Into the pan went chcken broth and a couple of generous squiggles of Dijon mustard, while I stirred manically with a slotted spatula (my cool whisk made specifically for non-stick pans has long since bitten the dust. Oh, and by the way, despite tales you will hear elsewhere, you can a good sear and browned bits in a non-stick pan. Another bit of “kitchen wisdom” that experience has proven to be false.) While stirring, less manically, the gravy thickened. As it came to a simmer I added a small can of evaporated milk. With the exception of Christmas time, I don’t usually have heavy cream in the fridge, so the evap has to do for cooking purposes. It does work very well in place of cream, at least in cooked dishes such as gravies and sauces. I then poured the juices that had accumulated on the pork chop plate into the gravy and stirred some more. The chops returned to the pan to cook for a few minutes.
Well, without bragging too much, it was a silken smooth gravy with wonderful flavor. No, it wasn’t exactly Nigella’s recipe, just the idea of it, taken in slightly different direction. I haven’t made Sunday dinner for myself for quite some time, and it was nice to sit down to a real meal cooked by my own hands on a glorious fall afternoon.
As for Nigella, I’ve only watched her since she has been on the Food Network. She is interesting, to put it mildly. Very sensual, very seductive (to men, I suppose), but also has a way with food that seems authentic and charming. It would not be a proper blog entry without at least one link to another site on the web. So here’s where you can learn about all things (maybe most things) Nigella.
Then the real work—and fun—began. I had to make the gravy. As the daughter of the world’s best gravy maker, it is embarrassing to confess to having mediocre skills in that area. Gravy making is one of my cooking weak spots, sorto like pie pastry. I can make good sauces, breads, cakes, cookies, candies, etc. But something about pie crust and gravy is beyond my skills, such as they are. Nevertheless, on that day, I felt unusually confident. I added about a tablespoon of canola oil to the pan along with maybe a quarter cup of flour, scraped up the browned bits, then cooked the roux for a couple of minutes. Into the pan went chcken broth and a couple of generous squiggles of Dijon mustard, while I stirred manically with a slotted spatula (my cool whisk made specifically for non-stick pans has long since bitten the dust. Oh, and by the way, despite tales you will hear elsewhere, you can a good sear and browned bits in a non-stick pan. Another bit of “kitchen wisdom” that experience has proven to be false.) While stirring, less manically, the gravy thickened. As it came to a simmer I added a small can of evaporated milk. With the exception of Christmas time, I don’t usually have heavy cream in the fridge, so the evap has to do for cooking purposes. It does work very well in place of cream, at least in cooked dishes such as gravies and sauces. I then poured the juices that had accumulated on the pork chop plate into the gravy and stirred some more. The chops returned to the pan to cook for a few minutes.
Well, without bragging too much, it was a silken smooth gravy with wonderful flavor. No, it wasn’t exactly Nigella’s recipe, just the idea of it, taken in slightly different direction. I haven’t made Sunday dinner for myself for quite some time, and it was nice to sit down to a real meal cooked by my own hands on a glorious fall afternoon.
As for Nigella, I’ve only watched her since she has been on the Food Network. She is interesting, to put it mildly. Very sensual, very seductive (to men, I suppose), but also has a way with food that seems authentic and charming. It would not be a proper blog entry without at least one link to another site on the web. So here’s where you can learn about all things (maybe most things) Nigella.
DST and Other Things on My Mind
I've been commenting (way too much) about DST over at Masson's Blog . I'm not going to reiterate all of my reasons for intensely disliking DST here. It has struck me though, since we recently returned to Standard Time, that DST isn't only a twice a year nuisance. Under DST, there is no longer the long slow decline of daylight as summer changes to fall, which changes to winter. Nor is there the long, sweet ascent into earlier sunrises as winter changes to spring and spring into summer.
About three quarters of this entry disappeared just as I was publishing it. I'm not about to retype all of that right now. Grrr!
To continue with what I was writing, more or less, probably the thing I dislike most about DST is that it fundamentally alters our relationship with the sun. What say? You didn't know you had one? What was nice about being on Standard Time year round was the gradual shortening of the days from the summer solstice and their corresponding lengthening after the winter solstice. Just as I was getting used to earlier sunrises in late March, DST came on April 2nd and yanked those earlier sunrises backward by four to six weeks. The same happens with sunsets at the end of Daylight Saving Time. Just as I was getting used to 7:00 p.m. sunsets in late October, they became 6:00 p.m. sunsets on Sunday October 29th. I am happy, very very happy to have it be reasonably light outside in the mornings now that we are back on Standard Time. Nevertheless, the 6:00 p.m. sunsets that are typical for this time of year were easier to accept when we had that long slow descent into night that marks the changing of the seasons. Is the abrupt change back and forth from Standard Time to DST a small price to pay for progress? No. I personally have suffered from many fitful nights of sleep this year, all of them coinciding somehow with going on or being on DST. And I know that I am not alone. EST year round wasn't perfect, but it made sense for the vast majority of Indiana for decades. EDT in Indiana makes no sense whatsoever.
Indiana is in the peculiar geographic position of actually being in the Central Time zone, but being "assigned to" the Eastern Time zone. So, even when most of us were on EST all year, we were still an hour ahead of what our geographical location would suggest. Thus, for those of us in the Eastern Time zone, going on Eastern Daylight Time for the first time in decades meant having the sun up until around 10:00 in the summer and sunrise occurring no earlier than 6:00 a.m. (For those readers who have been hearing about Indiana's supposed “time conundrum” for years and years, here's the deal: Most of us didn't observe DST and remained on Eastern Standard Time for 12 months of the year. That's it. There was no confusing patchwork of time zones, no conundrum. Nothing that couldn't be explained in a few breaths. Things were not confusing at all, really, unless people made them so. Furthermore, we weren't the only state that didn't observe DST. Hawaii and most of Arizona still don't spring forward and fall back.)
On a happier note: I was thrilled this weekend when Stéphane Lambiel made an amazing comeback from 7th place to win Skate Canada. Just figure skating, right? Not anymore, it isn't. The internet made it possible for me to follow updates on the competition with Lambiel fans from all over the world. Day and night on Saturday, no matter what time zones we were in, we were thinking of, rooting for, and even praying for Stéphane to at least do well enough in his long program to pull up in the standings. (Boy, did he ever!) A North American contingent of fans attended the event and kept us apprised of everything that they observed throughout the week. (Thanks Swissmiss and all of the other fans who supported Stéphane in Victoria!) On Saturday night, during what was the wee hours of Sunday morning for them, the European fans watched the competition live and gave updates on the message board we all frequent. Flowers to all who stayed up to do that! I have never participated in anything like that before, and it was really fun, especially as it became apparent that Stéphane could win, despite the odds and a less-than-perfect performance. Sometimes, I wish that I had my internet surfing time back to do something else more productive and meaningful. Not so on Saturday night. I wouldn't trade that time for anything. (Well, almost anything, anyway.) Who is Stéphane? His official website is here.
About three quarters of this entry disappeared just as I was publishing it. I'm not about to retype all of that right now. Grrr!
To continue with what I was writing, more or less, probably the thing I dislike most about DST is that it fundamentally alters our relationship with the sun. What say? You didn't know you had one? What was nice about being on Standard Time year round was the gradual shortening of the days from the summer solstice and their corresponding lengthening after the winter solstice. Just as I was getting used to earlier sunrises in late March, DST came on April 2nd and yanked those earlier sunrises backward by four to six weeks. The same happens with sunsets at the end of Daylight Saving Time. Just as I was getting used to 7:00 p.m. sunsets in late October, they became 6:00 p.m. sunsets on Sunday October 29th. I am happy, very very happy to have it be reasonably light outside in the mornings now that we are back on Standard Time. Nevertheless, the 6:00 p.m. sunsets that are typical for this time of year were easier to accept when we had that long slow descent into night that marks the changing of the seasons. Is the abrupt change back and forth from Standard Time to DST a small price to pay for progress? No. I personally have suffered from many fitful nights of sleep this year, all of them coinciding somehow with going on or being on DST. And I know that I am not alone. EST year round wasn't perfect, but it made sense for the vast majority of Indiana for decades. EDT in Indiana makes no sense whatsoever.
Indiana is in the peculiar geographic position of actually being in the Central Time zone, but being "assigned to" the Eastern Time zone. So, even when most of us were on EST all year, we were still an hour ahead of what our geographical location would suggest. Thus, for those of us in the Eastern Time zone, going on Eastern Daylight Time for the first time in decades meant having the sun up until around 10:00 in the summer and sunrise occurring no earlier than 6:00 a.m. (For those readers who have been hearing about Indiana's supposed “time conundrum” for years and years, here's the deal: Most of us didn't observe DST and remained on Eastern Standard Time for 12 months of the year. That's it. There was no confusing patchwork of time zones, no conundrum. Nothing that couldn't be explained in a few breaths. Things were not confusing at all, really, unless people made them so. Furthermore, we weren't the only state that didn't observe DST. Hawaii and most of Arizona still don't spring forward and fall back.)
On a happier note: I was thrilled this weekend when Stéphane Lambiel made an amazing comeback from 7th place to win Skate Canada. Just figure skating, right? Not anymore, it isn't. The internet made it possible for me to follow updates on the competition with Lambiel fans from all over the world. Day and night on Saturday, no matter what time zones we were in, we were thinking of, rooting for, and even praying for Stéphane to at least do well enough in his long program to pull up in the standings. (Boy, did he ever!) A North American contingent of fans attended the event and kept us apprised of everything that they observed throughout the week. (Thanks Swissmiss and all of the other fans who supported Stéphane in Victoria!) On Saturday night, during what was the wee hours of Sunday morning for them, the European fans watched the competition live and gave updates on the message board we all frequent. Flowers to all who stayed up to do that! I have never participated in anything like that before, and it was really fun, especially as it became apparent that Stéphane could win, despite the odds and a less-than-perfect performance. Sometimes, I wish that I had my internet surfing time back to do something else more productive and meaningful. Not so on Saturday night. I wouldn't trade that time for anything. (Well, almost anything, anyway.) Who is Stéphane? His official website is here.
Of Gardening and CAFOs
I know it is summer because my arms and legs look like they belong to two different people. Actually, my upper arms and lower arms could belong to different people. My face and neck are pretty tan, too, despite constantly using sunscreen. I have what is sometimes called a farmer's tan. Since I don't farm, but do raise herbs, flowers and vegetables in a raised bed, my tan would more accurately be called a gardener's tan. By whatever name, it is a sure sign of summer and a testament to the fact that I am spending lots of time outdoors working in the garden.
Yesterday I bought a soaker hose, and decided to use it for the first time today. Soaker hoses are supposed to conserve water by directing the flow into the ground toward the roots of plants. They also help cut down on disease that can spring up when plants are watered from above, which results in disturbing the soil, and splashing soil-borne bacteria and spores onto tomatoes and such. I've had the soaker hose wending through the raised bed for over an hour, and I'm finding it hard to believe that I'm saving water. I am saving on standing outside and holding the hose, but it took lots of effort to get the soaker wound through the “rows” Not exactly a lazy person's way to garden. Furthermore, I'm going to have to move the hose again in a few minutes to reach some dry spots that could not be reached the first time. At least the soaker hose didn't cost very much. It is sorto an experimental piece of equipment. If I don't like it, I can give it to my parents, whose soaker hose mysteriously disappeared.
Speaking of farming (well gardening, really, but I have to segue into the next topic somehow), Kemplog continues to give thorough coverage to the CAFO issue. CAFO is an acronym for Concentrated Animal Feeding Operation. CAFO's can have thousands of animals in a relatively small area and create huge amounts of waste. CAFO's can have adverse effects on water and air quality. Due to recent changes in Indiana law that make it almost impossible to bring a nuisance complaint against a CAFO, and the current administration's agricultural plan for Indiana, CAFO's are springing up at an alarming rate all over the state. Well, it should be alarming, but the mainstream media is giving little coverage to the issue, other than to announce that such-and-such company is planning to build a multi-thousand-animal operation in some hapless Hoosier county that does not have any environmental or zoning regulations to prevent it. The newspaper coverage I have read is almost always an announcement, followed by some stories about concerned neighbors of the proposed CAFO, and coverage of the inevitable contentious town hall meetings that follow. To my knowledge, and I must admit that I have not done a complete survey of the major Indiana media outlets, our newspapers and television stations are not doing much in the way of investigative reporting about CAFO's. I can pick up the Indianapolis Star and read pro-Daylight Saving Time stories at least once a month. But where is the investigative series about CAFO's, the havoc they have wreaked in other states, and what is likely to happen to Indiana as these factory “farms” proliferate? The Fort Wayne Journal Gazette is one of the few mainstream Indiana news sources that is giving more than the usual sparse coverage to CAFO's.
Thomas Kemp of Kemplog is doing a fine job of covering CAFO's and keeping his readers up to date about what is going on around the state. Big Eastern and the WAHM Diary are also keeping tabs on the issue. No matter how thoughtful and articulate any Hoosier blogger may be, few people will pay attention until a CAFO is proposed in their area or until major news outlets cover the issue beyond what they have been doing now. As the law stands now, there is not much that can be done. Please read Indiana Code 32-30-6 to see how it is now the public policy of Indiana to make it virtually impossible to bring a nuisance complaint against a CAFO. Pay particular attention to Section 9(b). How many ordinary Hoosiers are aware that that it is now the policy of the state to prevent nuisance actions against agricultural operations? Section 9(d)(1)(A)makes it is darn clear that changing land use from say a small hog farm to a huge one does is not a "significant change" that could allow the bringing of a nuisance action. In the real world, a farm that goes from raising 200 hogs to 5,000 hogs is a significant change to everyone involved, including the small farmers who sell out to large producers so that children or grandchildren can still afford to work what was once the family farm. Only in the eyes of the law could such a massive increase in production not be a "significant change."
I once had a dream that my husband and I would buy a small plot of land right here in Indiana and have an organic farm. Nothing on a large scale, just sunflowers, zinnias, herbs, tomatoes and other things that we could eat, give away to family and friends and maybe sell at a farmers' market. I've no husband yet, but there is still hope. I've little hope about remaining in Indiana, however. I don't want to live in Indianapolis, and Eastern Daylight Time is the pits. (Whoever heard of the sun coming up after 6:00 a.m. in summer in the midwest?) The spread of CAFO's has killed any hope I had of having a pleasant rural existance in my home state. I will have to leave Indiana to fulfil my dreams.
I sympathize with people who want to keep family farms running and see a CAFO as a solution to their financial problems. But I'd rather see all those children and grandchildren of small farmers find some other way to keep their farms alive. A CAFO is hardly a family farm, no matter who is running it. I hate seeing neighbor being pitted against neighbor because CAFO's are popping up all over rural Indiana. Mostly though, I hate what food production has become. In order to have relatively cheap, abundant food of all sorts (particularly meat, poultry, dairy, and eggs), food production has become an industry almost completely disconnected from our daily experience. Most of us have no idea how a pig is raised, but we gladly wolf down pre-seasoned Hormel pork roast for Sunday dinner. The same goes for most of our other foodstuffs. We still think of farms as charming landscapes with red barns and a few chickens and cows--all surrounded by a corn field. The reality is often far less picturesque. Drive down any highway in these parts and you will often see either dying small farms with decrepit barns and other outbuildings. Soon enough, those depressing landscapes will be replaced with huge, shiny CAFO's and their manure lagoons--assuming the CAFO operator has a manure lagoon anywhere near a public road, that is.
Yesterday I bought a soaker hose, and decided to use it for the first time today. Soaker hoses are supposed to conserve water by directing the flow into the ground toward the roots of plants. They also help cut down on disease that can spring up when plants are watered from above, which results in disturbing the soil, and splashing soil-borne bacteria and spores onto tomatoes and such. I've had the soaker hose wending through the raised bed for over an hour, and I'm finding it hard to believe that I'm saving water. I am saving on standing outside and holding the hose, but it took lots of effort to get the soaker wound through the “rows” Not exactly a lazy person's way to garden. Furthermore, I'm going to have to move the hose again in a few minutes to reach some dry spots that could not be reached the first time. At least the soaker hose didn't cost very much. It is sorto an experimental piece of equipment. If I don't like it, I can give it to my parents, whose soaker hose mysteriously disappeared.
Speaking of farming (well gardening, really, but I have to segue into the next topic somehow), Kemplog continues to give thorough coverage to the CAFO issue. CAFO is an acronym for Concentrated Animal Feeding Operation. CAFO's can have thousands of animals in a relatively small area and create huge amounts of waste. CAFO's can have adverse effects on water and air quality. Due to recent changes in Indiana law that make it almost impossible to bring a nuisance complaint against a CAFO, and the current administration's agricultural plan for Indiana, CAFO's are springing up at an alarming rate all over the state. Well, it should be alarming, but the mainstream media is giving little coverage to the issue, other than to announce that such-and-such company is planning to build a multi-thousand-animal operation in some hapless Hoosier county that does not have any environmental or zoning regulations to prevent it. The newspaper coverage I have read is almost always an announcement, followed by some stories about concerned neighbors of the proposed CAFO, and coverage of the inevitable contentious town hall meetings that follow. To my knowledge, and I must admit that I have not done a complete survey of the major Indiana media outlets, our newspapers and television stations are not doing much in the way of investigative reporting about CAFO's. I can pick up the Indianapolis Star and read pro-Daylight Saving Time stories at least once a month. But where is the investigative series about CAFO's, the havoc they have wreaked in other states, and what is likely to happen to Indiana as these factory “farms” proliferate? The Fort Wayne Journal Gazette is one of the few mainstream Indiana news sources that is giving more than the usual sparse coverage to CAFO's.
Thomas Kemp of Kemplog is doing a fine job of covering CAFO's and keeping his readers up to date about what is going on around the state. Big Eastern and the WAHM Diary are also keeping tabs on the issue. No matter how thoughtful and articulate any Hoosier blogger may be, few people will pay attention until a CAFO is proposed in their area or until major news outlets cover the issue beyond what they have been doing now. As the law stands now, there is not much that can be done. Please read Indiana Code 32-30-6 to see how it is now the public policy of Indiana to make it virtually impossible to bring a nuisance complaint against a CAFO. Pay particular attention to Section 9(b). How many ordinary Hoosiers are aware that that it is now the policy of the state to prevent nuisance actions against agricultural operations? Section 9(d)(1)(A)makes it is darn clear that changing land use from say a small hog farm to a huge one does is not a "significant change" that could allow the bringing of a nuisance action. In the real world, a farm that goes from raising 200 hogs to 5,000 hogs is a significant change to everyone involved, including the small farmers who sell out to large producers so that children or grandchildren can still afford to work what was once the family farm. Only in the eyes of the law could such a massive increase in production not be a "significant change."
I once had a dream that my husband and I would buy a small plot of land right here in Indiana and have an organic farm. Nothing on a large scale, just sunflowers, zinnias, herbs, tomatoes and other things that we could eat, give away to family and friends and maybe sell at a farmers' market. I've no husband yet, but there is still hope. I've little hope about remaining in Indiana, however. I don't want to live in Indianapolis, and Eastern Daylight Time is the pits. (Whoever heard of the sun coming up after 6:00 a.m. in summer in the midwest?) The spread of CAFO's has killed any hope I had of having a pleasant rural existance in my home state. I will have to leave Indiana to fulfil my dreams.
I sympathize with people who want to keep family farms running and see a CAFO as a solution to their financial problems. But I'd rather see all those children and grandchildren of small farmers find some other way to keep their farms alive. A CAFO is hardly a family farm, no matter who is running it. I hate seeing neighbor being pitted against neighbor because CAFO's are popping up all over rural Indiana. Mostly though, I hate what food production has become. In order to have relatively cheap, abundant food of all sorts (particularly meat, poultry, dairy, and eggs), food production has become an industry almost completely disconnected from our daily experience. Most of us have no idea how a pig is raised, but we gladly wolf down pre-seasoned Hormel pork roast for Sunday dinner. The same goes for most of our other foodstuffs. We still think of farms as charming landscapes with red barns and a few chickens and cows--all surrounded by a corn field. The reality is often far less picturesque. Drive down any highway in these parts and you will often see either dying small farms with decrepit barns and other outbuildings. Soon enough, those depressing landscapes will be replaced with huge, shiny CAFO's and their manure lagoons--assuming the CAFO operator has a manure lagoon anywhere near a public road, that is.
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