Aug. 11th, 2013 11:04 pm
Choptastic
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
muckefuckThe mewling beastie in my bedroom was the first hint that something was amiss. But the real telltale moment was coming upon the kitchen still dark at 8 a.m. and no one on the porch. Wondering if the Old Man was out shopping, I checked through the whole house before finding him still snoring in the guest room. I suspected he wouldn't be coming with us to brunch and at about 9 I finally confirmed that. Since Mazeppa had chosen a place only a block or two down from the grocery store, I asked ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
monshu if there was anything we needed from there. "Some sort of meat for dinner. And milk."
I got both those things. The latest copy of Cooks Illustrated arrived in the mail yesterday containing a rather lackluster assortment of recipes, but naturally the "French pork stew" (their take on potée) caught my eye and I found the necessary pork shoulder on sale. No hocks or quality kielbasa, though, but I knew I could find those at Devon Market. What I couldn't find was the savoy cabbage, unfortunately. In the text, the test chef explained that he rejected such traditional ingredients as leeks because they "seemed redundant" given the onion-flavoured broth and turnip because "some tasters objected to their bitter taste". I said "Faugh!" This is a French dish; I want my leeks. And anyone who finds fresh turnips too bitter is just a pansy.
The final result, though, was hardly more interesting than the GWO's Mitteleuropäische take on bacon and cabbage from last year but required much more work: the pork has to be trimmed, the vegetables need to be cleaned, and everything needs to be cut down to size. In total (due to my shitty knife skills) something like an hour in front of the chopping block. And all for a pretty one-dimensional dish: crazy with umami, but without much else going on.monshu is an easy audience; as I joked over the meal, anything he didn't have to cook gets and automatic 50 points on a 100-point scale. Our dinner guest, who has a background in food service, didn't say a word about the flavours, confirming for me that he found them insufferably dull.
At least the experience of eating it was extremely pleasant. Scooter is on his own this week, his wife and stepdaughters in North Carolina, and he readily accepted the invitation to join us. After sleeping away most of the day and hardly touching anything other than coffee, the Old Man had a healthy serving along with plenty of bread--both the crusty baguette and the "walnut berry" loaf from Devon (which I think he'll be buying again). I also found that they're selling a new brand of prepared meats without liquid smoke, and we still have half a package left for a meal some other time.
monshu if there was anything we needed from there. "Some sort of meat for dinner. And milk."I got both those things. The latest copy of Cooks Illustrated arrived in the mail yesterday containing a rather lackluster assortment of recipes, but naturally the "French pork stew" (their take on potée) caught my eye and I found the necessary pork shoulder on sale. No hocks or quality kielbasa, though, but I knew I could find those at Devon Market. What I couldn't find was the savoy cabbage, unfortunately. In the text, the test chef explained that he rejected such traditional ingredients as leeks because they "seemed redundant" given the onion-flavoured broth and turnip because "some tasters objected to their bitter taste". I said "Faugh!" This is a French dish; I want my leeks. And anyone who finds fresh turnips too bitter is just a pansy.
The final result, though, was hardly more interesting than the GWO's Mitteleuropäische take on bacon and cabbage from last year but required much more work: the pork has to be trimmed, the vegetables need to be cleaned, and everything needs to be cut down to size. In total (due to my shitty knife skills) something like an hour in front of the chopping block. And all for a pretty one-dimensional dish: crazy with umami, but without much else going on.
monshu is an easy audience; as I joked over the meal, anything he didn't have to cook gets and automatic 50 points on a 100-point scale. Our dinner guest, who has a background in food service, didn't say a word about the flavours, confirming for me that he found them insufferably dull.At least the experience of eating it was extremely pleasant. Scooter is on his own this week, his wife and stepdaughters in North Carolina, and he readily accepted the invitation to join us. After sleeping away most of the day and hardly touching anything other than coffee, the Old Man had a healthy serving along with plenty of bread--both the crusty baguette and the "walnut berry" loaf from Devon (which I think he'll be buying again). I also found that they're selling a new brand of prepared meats without liquid smoke, and we still have half a package left for a meal some other time.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
BUT THAT SAID, the Cooks Illustrated Corollary is that you aren't allowed to complain about the recipe if you don't actually follow it. A lot of their apparent omissions and fussy steps actually do matter, and when they omit something you think should be there, it's usually a case of "less is more".
If there were one general complaint I might make its that some of their recipes are unforgiving, and the magic balance they obtain in the test kitchen can be upset by things like variation in ingredients, not getting just the right cooking time, or whatnot. I bet that pork stew is pretty good if you do it in exactly the way they intend.
no subject
I frequently see mention in their recipes of tailoring them to work with what's commonly available in supermarkets and what's practical for the home cook even if it's far short of ideal. But I also agree with you that they miss the mark at times.
[*] For instance, their carnitas recipe. Similar amount of butchering, but a tastier product that couldn't be obtained in a easier way.