Cooking With Ideas

Mark Kurlansky's Newest (Or is it Youngest?) Book

As you know, once in a while -- and pretty darn frequently lately -- I get books in the mail because of this blog. Hurrah. My favorites are books that arrive before publication -- and I try -- I really really do try -- to review them before they are due out. It seems like the least I could do for their authors -- and for the publishers that send them on to me. This time, I am a bit late. Mark Kurlansky's The Food of a Younger Land ( a book that I received as an uncorrected proof for limited distribution) is in bookstores already as a hard back. And, I assume, all the attendant oddities, from typos (which seem to plague the last 75 pages or so, perhaps as the editor got tired as s/he approached the deadline for this limited version) to the absent index and bibliography are gone in the bookstore version. (Ok, the last of these I actually do miss. I love a good bibliography.)

Anyway, for Kurlansky's official site, click here. I loved his book Salt, reviewed right here on this site, so was all set to love this one too. It's quite different -- and was fun -- but I have to admit (at least this limited proof) is a little tiny bit redundant (with whole segments seeming to appear twice, unless my slow reading got a bit out-of-order) and my excitement waxed and waned a lot across the book. It's a worthwhile read, just not quite as much fun as Salt -- perhaps because it is not (mainly) Kurlansky's own prose. (Even George W. Bush liked Salt.)

Why not just Kurlansky? This book is actually a collection of pieces drawn from pieces written by the writers of the Federal Writer's Project of the WPA, a "make-work initiative" created by the New Deal of Franklin Roosevelt. (Click here for "More on the WPA.") Perhaps even more relevant in these days of economic crisis, the WPA was responsible for all sorts of things -- including a Writer's Project that put out what are now classic travelogues of the US (called the American Guide Series; see here)  as well as collecting slave narratives and writing American Life Histories. Though never published, the Project also collected loads of material on American food and foodways of the era. When? The mid-1930s. Who? Lots of not-so-famous people, as well as names we all now recognize (or should) since the project also employed established writers or folks who went on to be established. Examples include: Saul Bellow, Nelson Algren and May Swenson. They also underemployed -- and underpaid, for example, Zora Neale Thurston, for reasons associated with race and racism.

Despite my yearning for more of Kurlansky's own views, this was an intriguing book, organized into regions, and reporting on a foodscape which seems long gone and for which we are, perhaps, nostalgic. Both the now-exotic (or the always exotic, depending on one's class background and region of origin) and the once familiar appear. From prairie oysters to clambakes, from rabbit to squirrel, from farm homes to New York hotels, this collection of bits and pieces -- ranging from a few sentences to a few pages, gives glimpses into another world.Or should I say worlds? There are various Native Americans represented here, as well as African American history (here called Negro) in its rawest as reported on occasion in a dialectic form. Italians in all their exoticism, Irish, Scandanavians, . . . My favorites might be the one I was most familar with about Horn and Hardart's (I have a vague memory of the automat myself!) -- and a diatribe against mashed potatoes that came from Oregon. But there is much more that is fun and informative; cowboys and lutefisk and coca cola parties. Perhaps a bit of religion here and there, including an Alabama foot washing. From the record of pioneers gathering for annual picnics on the West Coast, served by their children and children's children to all sorts of other examples, there are hints at the already-disappearing nature of all this -- even though the transformative power of highways, railroads, World War II, and much more intervenes between then and now. For those interested in the homogenization of American culture, there is much here to ponder. So too for those inttrigued by the historical entanglements of gender, food and region. Women here are not the women of the 21st century. (Nor of course are the men, but somehow the place of women seems odder, more unfamiliar, at least to me.)

For a whole range of reviews of this book, try here  or here or here or here for a video discussion with Kurlansky and for a related NPR story on relevant material in the Library of Congress, try here. This led to this site with pictures and loads of archival material. Wow. Oh wow.

For an argument that Obama should resurrect something like the Federal Writers Prpject and/or the WPA, see this article or this blog post.For some oddities on all this, including perspectives on arts and . . . this site and that one offer hints. Who, by the way, invented the word "wingnuttery"?

Lunch and Learn?

Is it possible to "lunch and learn"? The answer, according to the New York Wine and Culinary Center in Canandaigua, is a resounding "YES!" "Lunch and Learn" is their name for a food and wine pairing demonstration series they do -- in which I recently participated. In our case, the one-hour event was a demonstration by two women (hurrah) as chef and knowledgeable wine consultant. The chef was Cathy Parsons (bio available here) who I could swear I heard say she has lost 78 pounds. The wine instructor was Cheryl Pitti, a former member of the Air Force; for her bio click here and scroll down! The cost for their expertise: $30 per person. While this seems a bit price-y (and certainly did when I purchased the tickets for 8 of us), the whole shebang turned out to be quite good. The demonstration was informative -- and the lunch tasty.

Here's what we saw: The event began with a little introduction, providing an overview. Then, we watched -- and listened to -- the chef enact and narrate the creation of a meal. Her aim? A "gourmet" seeming meal that could be created and served quickly, using mainly (though not entirely) local and seasonal ingredients. The menu: chicken stuffed with goat cheese and strawberries alongside a pea "salad" which had pearl onions and bacon. The meal was accompanied with two wines, a rose from Anthony Road and a dry riesling from Dr. Frank. (Oddly, I preferred the rose; and was glad to learn what the difference is between a blush and a rose wine. For another answer, click here. Both were quite good.)

Here is part of what I learned. First, though I already knew this, I was reminded that an airline chicken breast is one which still has the little drumstick bit of wing attaches. Cute. Then, the chef showed us how to make a deep pocket-like slice into the breast (and reminded us where the chicken "tender" is) into which we could slide a bit of (in this case Lively Run) goat cheese and some sliced strawberries. (Other options include a more Mediterranean idea with sun dried tomatoes, kalamata olives, and some feta -- and frankly, something with blue cheese I cannot quite recall). The chicken breast is then baked -- at 350 I think for about 45 minutes. As I recall she did sear them off -- and did this by really really heating the pan first, then adding a tiny bit of oil. The searing ensures that the baking does not dry out the chicken. The second dish was fresh peas, shelled, blanched, and shocked, combined with bacon that had been cooked til crispy, and pearl onions (yes, these were Birds' Eye frozen onions) in a white sauce made from a roux. The main point she made on roux was: make it way way thicker than you think you are supposed to and cook it so that the floury taste disappears. Also important throughout her presentation: food safety issues around the chicken and also, she pointed out a maxim that is useful -- veggies from below ground (e.g., potatoes) go into water before boiling; veggies from above ground (e.g., peas) go in after the water is boiling. And like every other chef ever, she reminded us not to fool around with things too much; when rendering bacon, for example, do not spend a lot of time with a spatula moving the bacon around.

Of course, once she got done her demonstration, voila, mysteriously many dishes completed by others appeared for all of us! And, I have to admit, it was a lot better than I expected -- it was very good. And this was especially so because of the wine pairings. There were two wines, as I noted, and both went well with the relatively sweet chicken. For those of us of an age that think rose means either Mateus (yuck -- college days) or white zinfandel (again, yuck, days of yuppies and ?) the Anthony Road rose was actually really really good. (admittedly, I have not had either of the others in decades.)

After the meal, which was quite filling, I did indulge a bit more. Yes, there are beer tastings available in the tasting room and I had a tasting of 6 or so beers from New York State, ranging from Brooklyn to Cooperstown, to. . . well, all over the state -- and across a wide array of styles. Called the Empire Beer Tasting, I paid $5 for a taste of each of the following beers: Middle Ages Swallow Wit (Syracuse), Ommegang Hennepin (Cooperstown), Cooperstown Old Slugger (Cooperstown), Brooklyn Brown Ale (New York City), and Southern Tier IPA (Lakewood). The last was my favorite. One of my compatriots tried the juice tasting and came away with a case of Grower's Cooperative Grape Juice.

All in all, a lunch at which I learned a lot. So, yes, you can lunch and learn. Indeed.

New Links. . .

New to the Geneva Related Links: "Loving, Laughing and Dancing through Life," a blog (which needs to be updated!) from a William Smith grad now in the Peace Corps.

And, new to the Finger Lakes Food Links, the Wegman's Farm Blog.

If you know other Geneva-related blogs, let me know! I'd love to add them! And, meanwhile, thanks to www.cartac.com.bb for the picture!

Diva Delights: Krista Davis Murder Mystery

I love the word: diva. It is just a swell word. So, when I saw a murder mystery entitled The Diva Takes the Cake, well, I had to buy it. Diva and food. Hurrah. Authored by Krista Davis, this is her second Prime Crime title. (The first was The Diva Runs Out of Thyme). Oh those punny punny titles. (I think it is thyme to stop is with the puns, but hey, I keep reading and reviewing books with titles like this so who am I to complain?) Her website is called Domestic Diva Mysteries. And, of course, it features a big picture of the cover of The Diva Takes the Cake. The picture of the cover here  comes from www.booksonboard.com and so a big Bibliochef thanks to them.

So, I have read a lot of these books by now, and lots of them disappoint. The food (and recipes) are just there to pull a reader in and have nothing to do with the mystery itself. (This unlike some old favorites like Peter King;s Gourmet detective series.) While Davis' book is similar, it is a pretty good mystery and not a bad read. There is a sort of bride-zilla theme running throughout, complete with an ex-fiance and a current groom to be, some Southern posturing (southern United States that is; the book is set in Old Alexandria, Virginia), and an array of oddballs completing the cast. Like some others in the genre, the chapters open with epigrams from fake material authored by characters in the book. And the last few pages are recipes -- including pulled pork and beer bottom chicken. (I feel like a louse; I have absolutely never made anything from teh recipes in all these mysteries. Have you?)

As for the mystery itself, it begins with a body and ends with a solution -- not surprising given the genre! And there are loads of mistaken solutions between start and finish. The oh-so-requireds heterosexual romance(s) are not too distracting and sometimes even funny. And the sibling relationship that forms the center of the plot (no this is not a spoiler) is itself worth pondering (at least if you have a sister). Sophie, the amateur detective type, is a little self-aggrandizing-feeling, though likeable. And she's just the right mix of utterly clueless and smart. The actual solution is a bit far fetched, actually, and can feel like it comes out of the blue -- but meanwhile I was distracted into an ejoyable romp.

Krista Davis is a sort of dog and cat kinda author, and includes a few pet types in her book. (Do not think of them as characters; think of them as occasional cameos). For an "interview" with her Golden Retriever, Queenie, on petsandauthors click here.

For information on a context Davis is hosting in celebration of the release of the book, click here -- or check Davis's own site. Hurry, the contest winners will be announced July 4.

For a bit on the word diva, click here. And for an even better idea, click here for Europe's big lesbian manazgine called Diva! (Not that I think this has anything at all to do with Davis's book. Just one of those associations that, well, the web allows. Have fun!)

Outland-ish Murder

Orland Outland writes outlandish seeming murder mysteries. They are not really outlandish -- I just wanted to do the play on his name! Anyway, one of the characters, Doan, is a guy (not a drag queen, not an mtf, just a gay guy) wears dresses. So, for some of you out there is mainland USA, perhaps a little out there. Anyway, I was pawing through the shelves desperate for a murder mystery and re-read this one: Death Wore the Emperor's New Clothes. Want to know what else he wrote? Click here. I suggest this because this particular gay author is sort of hard to find on the web. Odd, eh? He has written fiction and nonfiction, and seems to have an odd name -- and then, voila, there are others with that name?

One reason I like these mysteries is because of the name "BInky," here a Connecticut (recovering from) woman. My father's nickname was Binky. Weird. The other reason is because Binky's friend, Doan, is a shopaholic who buys kitchen stuff. So, the start of this mystery goes like this: "Doan moved through Williams Sonoma with the practiced air of a professoional chef. He glided past the big-ticket items, the best of which he'd already acquired -- the copper pots and pans from france, the knives from Germany, the Mixmaster -- and lingered over the little items, another one of which always seemed to be needed to put the finishing touches on his kitchen. He admired the Swiss melon ballers, the silver tea infuser. . . 'Ooh!' he said out loud, admiring a platinum vegetable peeler." (p. 1).

Yes, a platininum vegetable peeler. Silly, over the top, and critical -- just like the book, which features a wealthy (very) out gay man who does good with his money and has been out all along, a pair of friends and their partners (one of the pairs is heterosexual and the other gay men. . . hmmm, no lesbians?), some not-so-subtle trashing of Rupert Murdoch under a different name, a bit of critique of infomercial self-help culture, a soupcon of computer hacking, some fashion forward fascination, and related politics all tied together in a big, fun, campy (though Outland himself does not like camp and . . . ) murder mystery. Set in NYC, there are also some snide and not-so-snide comparisons between the Big Apple and the city with the Golden Gate.

All in all a romp with food just a tiny bit of a side dish to the real dishing. . . .

For a review elsewhere, click here. And want to check out a bit of a book on gay murder mysteries? Click here.  The book even outs the people on whom some characters are based. . . Maybe I better buy it!

A New Geneva Challenge and More

Ok, click here -- just go it -- you'll see why! It's a contest. Don;t care about Geneva, NY? Well, then do not click. BUt for those of you who do. . . . and ever go to the Farmer's Market, this one's for you. for a hint: think Slice, Dice and Spice New York!

For other local events, click here.

How Long is a Century?

The Century House is a restaurant in Latham NY where I ate recently. And yes, I know, I know, a century is a hundred years. The restaurant is actually only 60 years old. Hmmm. Their history, though, traces back much further than a hundred years -- to 1790 purchse of the land by Stephen van Rensselear. Despite being recommended to it l;ate at night after a long drive and expecting it to be only adequate, it was very good. I would definitely return.

What did I eat while reading my book (and the wait staff graciously increasing the lighting without being asked)? I was tempted by all sorts of possibilities, including a trio of three local cheeses, but actually had two other appetizers. I had the pan fried gnocchi, which comes with a nice gorgonzola cream sauce. They were very good -- a bit browned in teh clarified butter. (Cost: $8) I followed this with jumbo lump crab cakes, which were absolutely swell. ($15) To drink? A bottle of flat Saratoga water ($3); i just LOVE the blue bottle and so am always tempted. I also had two glasses (okay, one too many) of a nice Rex Goliath Pinot Noir, totaling $17.50. So, the meal was reasonably priced. The ambience was a sort of cozy, dark, business-y -- and I really liked it. It was a cell-free zone, too, which was nice for a change. 

I am, of course, a fan of gnocchi. These were light, and pretty evenly browned and very potato tasting. Unlike my former (and, ok, I still rate them highest), these did not come with pancetta or any other meat. But they were darn good and the gorgonzola might (just might) have trumped the Parmesan. Plus, my fave Henry B's in Seneca Falls is closed while they work out their new place in Rochester. Alas. (For a tiny bit of news on the new place, see here.)

All in all, I liked it a lot. I wish I had not been so tired and had dessert! Maybe next time.

Location: 997 New Loudon Road, Route 9, Latham, NY 12110

Phone: 518-785-0834

Website: www.thecenturyhouse.com

What's German about Canandaigua?

My first impulse to the opening question is to say "Absolutely nothing. Nada. Zip. There is nothing German about Canandaigua. It's some sort of Native American word, labeling the county seat for Ontario County, New York. It's one of the Finger Lakes. There is nothing -- zip -- nada -- nothing German about it." And, as usual, I would be wrong. So, what's German about Canandaigua?

A restaurant, Rheinblick by name, which is new to me. (It is actually more than a year old.) Right there on Main Street, this little place is not flashy, but it is definitely -- most definitely -- worth a visit. (I noticed driving by that it also sometimes has a beer garden. Well, it looks more like a beer alley, but still. . . on their blog it notes that they had a "beer garden ribbon cutting ceremony" recently!) Rheinblick is a very good restaurant, and serves food that is somewhat unusual for our area. (For those of you thinking Dano's -- well, related but definitely not the same.) Owned by Gary and Gudrun Klemens, the menu required some interpretation for me but once the plates arrived -- well, everything disappeared quite quickly.

I ordered Geschnetzeltes, described as "a pork stew with a piquant paprika sauce served over spatzle." The people with me had "Schweinebraten mit rotkohl und spatzle" (which is a pork dish with red cabbage and spatzle) and, I think, a shnitzel. The salads that came with the entrees had a light cream dressing that was quite tasty. We spent some time on beer, comparing each one we ordered and concluding in favor of the one I chose: all of which has, alas, faded in memory so my choosing will have to start all over when I go again! I can say this: the array of beers is quite good, representing a variety of draft and bottled German offerings every one of which I had never heard of before. (They also serve wine, including a few German whites.) The desserts though -- wow -- I had a linzer torte which was clearly made in house and was quite good. Our party also ordered a bee sting cake (aka Bienenstich) which was a custard filled honey cake (not my favorite) and (again, memory is fading) I think a black forest cake.

The service was quite good, except for a minor moment when we wanted decaffeinated coffee with our dessert and heard discussion at the rear of the restaurant over whether to bother making a whole new pot. Yes, they eventually did -- but hey, why even discuss it? The coffee, of course, was the perfect accomaniment for our desserts and we left quite happy.

For reviews of Rheinblick, check out their blog site, where they list two (one from "Rochester City Newspaper" and one from the "Democrat and Chronicle.") For an interesting discussion of the restaurant, with quite dissimilar views expressed by various commenters, try here.

Location: 24 Main Street, Canandaigua, NY

Phone: 585-905-0950

Human as Pyromaniac: Have You Been Playing with Matches?

Catching Fire is a nonfiction book by Richard Wrangham. (He even has a wikipedia page on him.) It is not about pyromaniacs. (Thanks, by the way to www.obit-mag.com for the picture of fire!) Nor is it about playing with matches. It is about the entanglement of evolution with cooking. Wrangham is a scientist -- and a Harvard scientist at that -- who brings a wealth of knowledge about apes (chimps and others) as well as other material to his thesis.  (According to the bio on the back flap, Wrangham is the "Ruth Moore Professor of Biological Anthropology at Harvard University, Curator of Primate Behavioral Biology at the Peabody Museum and Director of the Kibale Chimpanzee Project in Uganda.")

And yes, this 2009 book is about the hunting males and the foraging female in some sense. (After all, he co-authored Demonic Males and co-edited Sexual Coercion in Primates.) Wrangham even attributes the origin of a gender-based division of labor to the invention of cooking. Why? Without cooking, males would not have enough TIME to hunt because, like their ape relatives, they would have had to spend the vast majority of their time CHEWING. Why did they have to spend so much time chewing? Because their food was uncooked and therefore was harder and therefore. . . (If you really care, check out the 1996 article "Biological Aspects of Meat Toughness" by E. Tornberg in the journal Meat Science.) In all this, Wrangham differs from Levi-Strauss, in The Raw and the Cooked (which I have not read but want to . . Levi-Strauss's book argues that first came the hunter (and meat eating) and then came cooking). Wrangham thinks the famed anthropologist had the order backwards. (And this despite the anthropologist's longevity; click here for an NPR report on his 100th birthday in 2008.) Wrangham's book draws, as well, on data showing that folks who eat only raw food have trouble maintaining their weight (and this despite their argument that what they are doing is "natural" and the weight loss is also the case even when the number of calories is held constant in comparisons of cooked-food-eaters and raw-food-eaters). Also of interest are various anatomical features of humans which support Wrangham's thesis (or, as he labels it, hypothesis); teeth, for example, the relative proportion of our body devoted to digestion (low compared to related animals who do not cook), the relative size of our brains (high relative to related animals who do not cook), etcetera. (He notes, too, the negative impact of raw food diets on the capacity to reproduce. . . ) All of this happened circa 2 million or so years ago in Wrangham's argument. Like Darwin, he points to the crucial role of fire; unlike Darwin, he places its transformative imact substantially earlier in human evolution.

The book's subtitle is "How Cooking Made us Human" and so the theme includes shifts from various pre-human hominids to truly human beings. I am out of date so was unfamiliar with some of the stages in the transformation and the dating of all this, but he's pretty clear in his text. Wrangham argues that humans became human when we discovered (and harnessed) fire (and so there to Freud with his emphasis on controlling fire by urinating on it). What I noticed, in part, that made me take Wrangham seriously as a totally clueless person was his citation of feminists (e.g., Kate Millett) and his analysis not just of a "sexual division of labor" but of the inequalities constructed thereby.

Of course, the chapters entitled "How Cooking Frees Men" and "The Married Cook" are Wrangham's entries into the troubled terrain of the history of gendered divisions of labor -- and thus of the history (and origins) of sexism. (In fact, a customer review at amazon.com (dated June 9, 2009) claims that Wrangham "indulges" in academic feminism in some of his claims. I simply think he shows smarts when he does so.) His views make some attempt to disentangle cultural from biological evolution (insofar as that is even imagineable) and definitely see male as hunter as following from  the invention of cooking.The relative roles of female and male food provision, the near universality of women as cooks, and related matters are key to his thesis. So too is the nearly humanity-defining notion that partners share what they find in the way of food. Cooking, he claims, made us human (and social, and intelligent and. . . ) rather than vice versa.

I liked this book. I found it accessible to a nonspecialist and intriguing. It is well written, well documented, and my only complaint -- for a hardback which cost a lot a bit short!  I even intend to re-read it. Which, I guess, makes it worth it! And, I recommended Catching Fire to a friend who teaches in related areas. Turns out she knows Wrangham's work. Was I the only one who did not?

For a Q and A with Wrangham in Scientific American, click here. And for a review in Slate's very own food issue, click here. On The Raw and the Cooked, see, for example, this piece which draws on Levi-Strauss's conceptualization in a discussion of Decameron.

Gay Murder -- On the Menu

In my imagination, those old pulps always had gay victims. We knew we'd made it when some of the victims were straight. Then, I thought, well, all the murderers are gay; we're back to homophobia-land. Remember all that stupid stuff about John Wayne Gacy? While I do not have the sequence anywhere near right, and if there is a sequence at all I would undoubtedly state it in overly-simplistic ways, I do know this: I like it when the detective is lesbian, gay or. . . queer. Yep, there's a whole genre, including Ellen Hart and others who have crossed over into supermarkets -- and folks like Patricia Cornwell who, gasp, . . . . well, you know. . . includes a character? All those animals in Rita Mae Brown's "Sneaky Pie Brown" series -- well, they seem to show no clue at all that the author's fame arose in part from her lesbian classic, Rubyfruit Jungle. Now, the lesbian mystery genre includes noir and cozy, and the genre has been the mainstay of some lesbian presses established in the 1970s.

So, what does this have to do with Amuse Bouche by Anthony Bidulka? The sleuth is a gay man, single, and the mystery includes gay (and lesbian) characters. While not as food oriented as its title might imply, it's a well written and interesting book, with a plot that kept me reading and writing that moved along, and another hook for me: it is written by a Canadian -- and set above the 49th. In particular, Bidulka lives in Saskatoon and the novel is set there. While (as already said) food does not play a central role in the mystery -- or the novel -- there is a humorous moment when the sleuth (Russell Quant) learns what an amuse bouche is. (Not sure? Click here.) Since the plot jumps between Saskatoon and various locales in France, and the cast of characters includes people representing a variety of class backgrounds (with some supposedly high-falutin' rich types), foodie references serve as identifiers here and there. There is about as much techie start up company stuff as atmosphere, setting and plot device as there is foodie, but not annoyingly so. All in all, Amuse Bouche is much better than a bad mystery with loads of foodie things, including recipes. Put another way, while it was the title that got me to buy it, it was much much more that kept me reading. While occasionally a bit arch, Quant (the sleuth) is well characterized as are most others. And the mystery is both poignant, relevant, and a bit goofy. For all you marriage-equality typed, it doesn't spoil the mystery to say you might find this worth a gander.  I can't say more without spoiling the plot, so, I say, read it.

As a side note, this is the first of a series. Bidulka, I learned via the web, won a Lamdba for his 2004 book entitled Flight of Aquavit (and has at least one other with a food note in the title -- Tapas on the Ramblas).