There is no spectacle on earth more appealing than that of a beautiful woman in the act of cooking dinner for someone she loves. – Thomas Wolfe
I’ve often said that though I’m fairly good at many things, there are only three that I’m really good at. The first one is the reason so many of y’all think this blog is worth reading; the second is the one that allowed me to make a career out of my primary topic. And the third is one I have used nearly every day, year in and year out, without fanfare, since my late teens; it’s the only one of the three I’ve never been paid to do, and the only one I wouldn’t even consider a job in because unless one is strikingly proficient at it, nobody’s going to offer enough money. But that’s probably because unlike the other two, nearly anyone with the desire and the practice can get good at it. At this time of year I usually do a lot more of it than the second and somewhat more than the first, and so I’ve decided to write about it today.
I am speaking, of course, of cooking. Unlike many good cooks, I do not embrace pretension; I roll my eyes when a recipe insists that sea salt or vanilla pods will make a major difference in the taste of the finished product, and though I do indeed prepare a lot of dishes with French names I do not believe that the presence of such a name improves it. Few of the dishes I prepare often use any ingredients unavailable from a typical supermarket, and virtually none use anything more exotic than tahini or fish sauce (i.e. easily obtained at an ethnic market). And though a number of my family’s favorites do have foreign names (such as kang Musmun, moussaka, gnocchi and enchiladas), few of them would be considered “gourmet” in their countries of origin; they are generally humble dishes with humble ingredients, and require no advanced culinary techniques for their preparation. A typical week of dinners at my house (starting on Sunday) might be fried chicken, red beans and rice, sandwiches and soup, creamed ground beef on toast, lasagna, fish & chips, burritos (Tuesday is my traditional “night off” from doing a full dinner). And the dessert is much more likely to be apple pie, bread pudding or cookies than crème brulee or doberge cake…though I can prepare those if requested.
Over the last few years I’ve already shared a number of my favorite recipes, so if you’d like to try chicken and andouille gumbo, turkey soup, potato salad, real (non-microwave) popcorn, chicken paprikash or king cake, I’ve got you covered. I’ve also shared my recipes for chili and fried chicken via email, and would be happy to publish them if asked. But today I’m going to share two very simple, homely recipes, the first in response to the season and the second in response to some folks who were concerned about the poisoned Chinese-made pet treats we read about last month: cornbread stuffing and dog biscuits.
Cornbread Stuffing
This recipe is intentionally small so it’s easy to multiply. Prepare it as is for very small birds, double it for a 10 to 12-pound one, and quadruple it for a large one (or if your family really likes stuffing). Just in case you don’t have a recipe for cornbread, I’ve included the one I use at the bottom of the stuffing directions. Leftover cornbread is actually best, but if you’re making a quadruple batch you’ll need a whole pan. If you don’t have granulated garlic, use half as much garlic powder or twice as much finely-minced garlic or garlic flakes. If you’re using this for a goose rather than a turkey or chicken, double the sage and omit the garlic.
2 cups (480 ml) crumbled cornbread
1 cup (240 ml) chicken bouillon or broth
¼ cup (½ stick, 60 ml) butter
¼ teaspoon (app. 1 ml) each pepper, paprika, granulated garlic, thyme, sage, rosemary & tarragon
Heat bouillon, spices and butter over medium heat until boiling. Remove from heat, add cornbread, stir to moisten, then let sit (covered) for 10 minutes before stuffing bird. Yes, it’s safe to stuff a bird no matter what the nannies now claim; just make sure it’s completely thawed before cooking and cook it for roughly 3 extra minutes per pound.
Cornbread: Preheat oven to 425o Fahrenheit. Combine 1 cup (240 ml) flour, 1 cup (240 ml) cornmeal, 2 tablespoons (30 ml) sugar, 1 tablespoon (15 ml) baking powder, and ½ teaspoon (2.5 ml) salt. Beat 2 large eggs; mix in 1 cup (240 ml) milk and ¼ cup (60 ml) cooking oil, then add mixture to dry ingredients and mix until combined. Pour into greased square pan, bake for 20 minutes.
Dog Biscuits
2 cups (480 ml) flour
½ cup (120 ml) cornmeal
½ tbsp (7.5 ml) granulated garlic
2/3 cup (160 ml) beef bouillon
6 tablespoons (90 ml) oil
If you don’t have granulated garlic, see recipe above. Though dogs like garlic more than you might think, you can skip it entirely if you like; it helps protect them from fleas but inside dogs need that less. I use a small cutter, about tea-cookie size, but you can use a larger one or a bone-shaped one if you like. You can substitute beef stock or any other meat-flavored liquid for the bouillon. For the oil, bacon grease or used fryer oil is best, but any cooking oil will do.
To prepare, mix all dry ingredients, then add bouillon & oil and mix well. Dump the dough out onto a clean counter and knead with your hands just until it’s all mixed and even-looking, then roll or pat it out to about ¼ to ½” (about 1 cm) thick and cut with the biscuit cutter. Gather the leftover dough together, roll out and cut again until it’s all used up. Bake the biscuits at 350o Fahrenheit for 30 minutes, then cool on a wire rack for about 15 minutes. Store in a sealed container in a cool place; you can refrigerate them or even freeze them for longer storage. I have never met a dog that did not LOVE these, and since there’s nothing weird in them you might even like them yourself (I’ve caught Grace sneaking them on occasion).
That’s all for today, but I’ll keep sharing other recipes from time to time, and if you need a particular one please don’t hesitate to ask.
now we’re talking business :))
Thanks for that.
I collect potato salad recipes.
Yours is quite similar to the one I currently use with the exception that I use vinegar instead of pickle relish and add chopped parsley.
I’ll try the pickle relish next time I make it.
Regarding the garlic dog biscuits.
I know next to nothing about dog biology but I know that garlic knocks down hemoglobin levels in rabbits (and people, but less so) so I’d lay off it if any of your dogs seem unusually exhausted or breathless.
Strangely enough I first became a garlic addict because my mother had me eating raw cloves (not aged either) to treat my serious childhood asthma.
Definitely contraindicated for asthmatics but it’s so yummy who cares if you can’t get your breath?
A very beautiful (and eccentric) escort here in NOLA combines escorting and cooking …
See you still have the black fingernails from Halloween!
Oh … and I would also add …
There WAS (and may still BE) an outfit of women working on the Northshore here who did FBSM (and CFS with upcharge) and ALSO offered steak dinners!
One of them once told me … “Yeah, Krulac … come on by and I’ll give you a great blow job and then you can sit down to a wonderful steak! Every guy that’s come through here loves it!”
I mean … that is just SO COOL!! 😀
I did when I took that picture several weeks ago, but they’ve been brown since the 11th and will be changing to candy-apple red this coming Saturday.
You never have chips in your nails. Jealous. 😉
I’m a passably good cook but I’m a really great baker. I have great easy recipes for focaccia and pita bread and NYC street-cart-style pretzels that impress the heck out of people.
Red beans and rice, please.
No … just no.
Red beans and rice – when I was growing up – was NOT anything to get excited about and I highly doubt you could buy them in even a NOLA restaurant back then. Maggie can correct me if I’m wrong – I grew up about 2 hours from NOLA actually and didn’t get there very often as a kid.
My wife (not from the South) … saw “red beans and rice” on a menu in the NOLA airport once and said … “Oh, they have red beans for seven dollars”.
“I’ll give ’em seven dollars to keep the motherfuckers.” is exactly what I told her.
Red Beans were, at the time and place I grew up – for poor people. I never really thought of ourselves as poor – we had a big, modern house when I was in the sixth grade onward and my parents always bought new cars and they even laid down the money to buy me a car when I was 17 (though they just got it off the lot – I had to work to pay the bills and insurance on it).
“Extremely Frugal” is what I’d describe my parents and we had red beans and rice – I can’t tell you how many fucking times a week.
But it’s not the poor “stigma” that makes me hate red beans – it’s the fact that they suck … and they are too often trotted out as the main entrée and they ARE NOT meat. I think meat should always be the main thing in a meal – and if it’s not it just doesn’t feel right. My Mom would put sausage in her red beans – but it’s not the same thing and I didn’t like my sausage polluted with red bean juice anyway. Just … yuck!
And the damn things made you fart (unless you did some soaking trick before you cooked them) and the taste was all in the consistency and my Mom made ’em pretty soft and juicy and … Jesus Fuckin Christ – I’m getting nauseous just typing this.
Times I DID eat red beans – I loaded them up with so much tabasco sauce they really didn’t take like anything but tabasco. My Dad did the same thing though he swore up and down he loved the damn things.
I keep small red beans (not red kidney beans), black beans, lentils, and chickpeas, sometimes I’ll have a jar about a third full of split peas too. The beans I eat three times most weeks (which is why I keep a variety) and I fix them the same way: a scoop of any one type of bean goes into the trusty rice cooker with two and a half to three times as much water. When the cooker goes “THUNK” I add a scoop of rice (long grain white, short grain white sweet, brown or black) and twice as much water. Switch the cooker back to “COOK” and wait for it to go “THUNK” again. Unplug the cooker, stir in cheese and salsa (and sometimes some chipotle sauce) and eat with Beano.
It’s cheap and easy, and quite tasty. Tracy sometimes comes over on a Monday, Wednesday, or Friday because she knows I’ll be having the beans and rice, and I can afford to feed it to her.
To each his own; my family loves ’em and I’m cooking them as I write this. And yeah, I do the “soaking trick”.
Are you seriously fucking cooking thanksgiving beans today?
What are you talking about? Today’s not Thanksgiving, and we don’t eat red beans on Thanksgiving. I don’t know how y’all do it at your house, but we actually eat dinner every day up here.
Well you said “family” so I thought Thanksgiving.
How we do it at my house? Well, Red Beans are banned BY ME in this house. Coconut is banned by my wife. I’m allowed to eat coconut though if I want it but I have to buy it and fix it – she won’t. I love coconut.
No way I’d eat my wife’s cooking … nooooo waaaaaay. I’ll eat her cherry pie though! 😀
So I fix my own food … and usually I grill a chicken or steak on the grill outside for dinner.
There’s a local barbeque that I hit on Thurs / Fri for lunch – I walk up to the window and the guy hands me a half of a chicken and I give him $4.00 and I don’t say anything but “Thanks” … LOL he knows what I’m there for!
And – if I were a member of your “family” – you get good and goddamn well tired of cooking for me – I EAT A LOT.
So does my family, except me.
If by ‘red’ beans you mean ‘red kidney’ beans, these are now available in tins in the UK; they are ready to eat, all you have to do is rinse them. They are lovely.
Yeah that sounds “yummy” ???
We used to get them dry, so they had to be soaked, otherwise they are poisonous. Like the green bits in potatoes.
Cornbread. Sigh.
Amazingly we have acquired two American Southern/BBQ restaurants in Canberra. Both of them do unbelievably yummy ribs, brisket, and pulled pork, but the cornbread just sucks. Salty beyond belief. I make it myself every so often, when I can find cornmeal, which is rarely. (Polenta is different somehow, and doesn’t taste quite right in bread)
Just eat the ribs, brisket, and pulled pork and skip that cornbread shit, Sasha. Dirty carbs! Dirty carbs!
I think when I took Mississippi History in school they taught me something called the “Cornbread Revolt” … I can’t find it anywhere on the internet but I swear they taught us that the first French immigrants in Mississippi had no French bread – only cornbread and the wives REVOLTED by witholding sex until they got their damn French bread again.
There is no happiness without carbs.
Forever – I have eaten a low carb diet and it’s kept my cholesterol well under 150 and my bodyfat low too.
Only this week – did I do an experiment by reintroducing a significant portion of carbs to my diet. I will say this … my gym time has been UNBELIEVABLE – I gained over 50 pounds on my deadlift and my working deadlift is now 465 pounds – mind you, that’s not my single rep max – which is MUCH higher (525 now).
But I gained, a good goddamnned ten pounds!! I stepped on the scale this morning and it hit 245 pounds!!! Now – carbs DO make your muscles look a lot fuller so it’s not a bad look and I KNOW that ONLY WOMEN should actually pay attention to what they weigh … men should pay attention to how they look and feel and not worry about the number on the scale.
So the gym time is fun with these carbs – but, the experiment ends today because I know carbs are like drugs – they make you feel great in the beginning but then really take their toll on you later, the more you consume them. I would expect significant amounts of body fat and cholesterol if I kept this going.
I repeat: there is no happiness without carbs.
Krulac, don’t poke it, don’t prod it, just leave it alone. 😛
Well I think I at least need to POKE it! 😛
Silly me, I forgot who I was talking to for a minute. 😉
Fuck I can’t leave that alone – I have to PROD it too!
Carbs are a science. I know bodybuilders who eat lots of carbs and they fall into two categories … (1) The dirty carb guys that go all out off season and look fat as pigs – then diet 12 weeks before contest season. (2) Guys who have studied carbs sooooOOO much – they can eat them in the right mixes of foods and end up looking like Greek Gods year round.
But the problem is … Protein’s, Fat’s – very simple and your body digests them each the same way every time … but that’s not the case with carbs.
Carbs come in different types according to their Glycemic Index and some digest so fast they just go right to fat stores. I also think they decrease insulin sensitivity over time … and that ushers in a whole host of problems including the ability to self-regulate one’s body fat.
And not only that – but apparently the GI “changes” according to how it’s cooked …
That’s just carrots. See what I mean?
It’s not just carbs; all foods have a glycemic index. The “best” foods have a low index, they say.
I don’t think that is necessarily correct, Korhomme. The glycemic index describes how carbs affect blood sugar compared to glucose – which has a glycemic index of 100.
Eating meat shouldn’t affect your blood sugar – at least not much anyway.
This gives red meat a glycemic load of zero …
http://lowglycemicload.com/index.cfm?ID=90
Meat, or fats, don’t affect your blood sugar that much; there is a very slow rise and fall. They have a low glycemic index.
Their glycemic index is ZERO if they contain no carbs. That means they really aren’t on the glycemic index at all.
Maggie was good enough to send a recipe for Chilli con carne a while back; I was able to respond with Spaghetti alla Puttanesca or Harlots’ spaghetti, a Sicilian dish. The origin of the name is a bit obscure; it might refer to something which was quickly made, or because the whores could only go shopping when respectable women had finished, and they needed ingredients that would keep.
It may also date to a time of “closed brothels”, when they were only let out on certain days a la Nevada, and therefore (as you say) needed ingredients that would keep.
The original recipe is here:
http://www.chefkoch.de/rezepte/39761013411014/Spaghetti-alla-Puttanesca.html?comments=all
It’s in German. Interestingly, all the commentators thought it was “great” and “very tasty” despite (because?) of the name.
Sometimes, I think that Puttanesca are just real people.
Fancy-dancy ingredients CAN make a difference in a recipe; you need to try them occasionally to see if they’re worth the trouble. They can also ruin a recipe on occasion. In my youth my mother once made the mistake of making a New York Time Cookbook recipe for Goulash with paprika she had bought in a Hungarian neighborhood in Cleveland. It was to spicy to eat. Even my Father, brought up in Colorado, during the Depression, in a relatively poor household, and thus accustomed to hot food, couldn’t eat it.
But occasionally a fancy ingredient is easy to get, not too much trouble to use, and makes the difference between a good dish and YOWZA!.
I have tried. With rare exception, they’re not.
I’m with Maggie on this. For me, the best recipes are those that use fresh local produce, properly cooked; and not served with a sauce that destroys the taste. I always think that such sauces (or vast quantities of herbs) are only there to disguise the taste of inferior ingredients. And fancy ingredients, or methods of cooking do likewise; I don’t want left testicles of unicorns, herbs gathered at dawn by hoary toilers of the soil, halfway up the sunnyside of the Alps); nor do I expect the cook to have recourse to blowlamps or liquid nitrogen. But then I absolutely loathe sweetbreads, no matter how much a delicacy they are supposed to be.
And I’m not sure that eating is “visual”, with the meal prepared artistically. This speaks to me of cuisine nouvelle, a few bits of this and that decorating a plate, but not something that actually improves the hunger.
I’ve not been to the “Blind Cow” in Zurich, but it does sound interesting. There is no lighting, the place is totally dark, and the waiters are blind/partially sighted. The idea is to enjoy the smell and the taste of the food, without visual interference. (You do get to choose the menu in a lighted area.) It seems to me to be the ultimate in food enjoyment, tempered only by the difficulty in actually finding the plate, and the wine glass, and the angst that I’d make a total mess of the table.
http://www.blindekuh.ch/en/blindekuh_zuerich/dining_in_the_dark/
Ditto. I enjoy watching Heston Blumenthal and Ferran Adrià on the TV because it interests me to watch the boundaries of any art form being expanded and reshaped and re-imagined. But I don’t think I’d enjoy eating at their restaurants.
You all eat such exotic foods.
I’ll add my own recipe for one of my favourites from childhood, which is still a major, if carby, comfort food for me.
Bubble and Squeak
Leftover mashed potato
Shredded cabbage
Shredded sharp cheddar chese
Add the cabbage and cheese to the potatoes, add a tough of salt and pepper and form into patties. Fry them in butter. As you do, they will bubble and squeak, hence the name.
Trouble with cabbage is memories of school dinners, when cabbage was grotesquely overcooked. Cabbage needs a gentle touch, and is best with bacon. Not red cabbage though, that’s best with chestnuts and venison.
Cabbage is very dish-specific to me. I love good, homemade sauerkraut, the kind you get in central European restaurants with your schnitzel or sauerbraten. The tinned sauerkraut is nauseating IMO. I also can’t handle cabbage that has been cooked for ages, like those stuffed cabbage rolls, or cabbage (yuck) soup.
Bubble and squeak actually sounds really tasty. Potatoes and cheese….mmmm. I will try it one of these nights.
Korhomme, the bacon you have in Ireland, is that the crunchy fatty kind or the lean and floppy kind?
We have ‘streaky’, ‘back’, and ‘middle cut’ bacon. The back has a bit of streaky, with the fillet; the middle has a full length of streaky with a fillet. They are all rather fatty, but crunchy; it really depends on how they are cooked. For me, they are all best grilled. I have an Aga, and they go on a grill pan in the hot oven; depending on time, they can be soft or crunchy, with most of the fat gone—which I prefer. Some come with the rind on them: I don’t like this, I always cut it off. For cooking with, eg, cabbage, streaky is the best, cut into lardons.
Opinions differ as to the best variety for the “full Irish” breakfast, the absolute heart attack on a plate: the ultimate is to gently fry in lard, even if I go for the “healthy” option of grilling. Many say that back is best for this; the streaky for the egg white, the fillet for the yolk. (I don’t like either black or white pudding, I’m happy with tomatoes and mushrooms.)
I can only eat cabbage if it’s raw (and reasonably fresh).
I’m that way with nearly all vegetables, actually. I either detest them entirely, or I can only eat them raw. Carrots, cabbage, celery, turnips are all good raw, but inedible if cooked.
Cucumbers I can only eat as pickles, and only the sweet gherkin kind (for those outside the US, this is completely different from a real gherkin, which I’ve never tried).
Green beans are great when they’re raw and freshly picked. Sadly, by the time they appear in stores, they’re already too old. You have to grow them yourself.
I can’t handle cabbage at all, not in any form. But I’m sure you’d like my shepherd’s pie. 🙂
I know how you feel, for I used to think the same. But, properly cooked (with bacon), cabbage is great. Sadly, about 99% is the rule.
It’s not “great” for someone who is nauseated by green, leafy vegetables, which I am.
Spinach?
let me invite you to a blind tasting 🙂
Only if you enjoy being vomited on. It never ceases to amaze me that people can understand food sensitivities and aversions unless they involve green vegetables, at which point they instantly become “childish” or “you just haven’t had it the way I fix it”. 🙁
No my wife’s the same way.
Psychosomatic bullshit! The invitation to a blind tasting still stands!
It’s not psychosomatic. You have no idea how many times I’ve tried, and frankly I find that statement rather insulting.
Maybe this ties into your censorship theories, Maggie. Just like people can’t stand the thought of others having moral codes different to theirs, perhaps the thought of you not liking their favorite foods somehow offends them.
But it only happens for green vegetables; I can express aversion for some other kinds of food (like organ meats) without any more reaction than a shrug. But when I express a deep aversion to the health nuts’ Holy Grail, yet have maintained perfect health for decades despite never touching the odious stuff, everybody reacts as though I’ve committed blasphemy against the Gospel According to Popeye.
I think Korhomme is only joking. That’s the way I read it – and I’m always right! LMAO!!
I’m sure he is, and even if he’s not I forgive him. 🙂
Perhaps you’re a supertaster.
It was only a tease, Maggie: and if you thought it was more, I apologise.
I knew it was, but you can have no idea how many times I’ve heard the same basic thing in forty-seven years, and it gets tiresome. Don’t worry, I was only irritated for a moment. 🙂
We all have our likes and dislikes—unless parsnips are very thinly sliced, they’re far too sweet for me. I just don’t like the “sweet and sour” combination. But, do you like lettuce?
It’s green, it’s leafy and it’s a vegetable. However, since its taste is so weak compared to all the other ones, it’s the one I try once every couple of years to see if I’ve outgrown the aversion. I can never finish even one leaf.
Lettuce is pretty tasteless; but, Lollo Rosso has reddish ends, and actually has taste; but it isn’t easily available here 🙁
Some vegetables have chemicals in them which many people cannot taste. Whether you can taste it or not is genetic. Those who can taste said chemicals almost universally do not like them. It isn’t just a matter of preparation or how mature one’s taste buds are. If you have the genes which let you taste it, you almost certainly won’t like it and until somebody eliminates those chemicals from the vegetable (i.e., genetic engineering) people with those sets of genes simple are not going to like those particular vegetables.
And to people with different genes and who don’t know about this, it just doesn’t make sense that somebody could eat something so good and hate it so much. Well, they’d hate it too if tasted to them like it does to people who can taste the (to the spinach-lover) tasteless.
I did not know that! I wonder if that’s my problem?
It would have to be a pretty weird set of genes if it covers everything from cabbage and iceberg lettuce to silverbeet and spinach regardless of how they are prepared but (assuming here) not broccoli or broad beans (I think you call them fava beans or something like that) .
What about brussel and alfalfa sprouts?
Beans are not green and leafy. Broccoli and brussels sprouts are.
I don’t know everything the chemicals are in, and of course not every food dislike will be genetic. But broccoli has is, and some other vegetables do also. I’ll try to find a link or two and post that tomorrow.
So here I am TEN DAYS LATER with a link. This is a YouTube video of less than a minute and a half, and with the name of the chemical and such you can look up more if you like.
These days, my Shepard’s Pie isn’t mince, but vegetarian. The bottom layer is a mix of lentils, mushrooms, and onions in a nice mushroom gravy, with the layer of mashed potatoes on top.
One word.
Kimchi.
No, two words.
Kimchi. Yum!
My husband loves it; I find it revolting. And yes, I have tried it.
Three words: Kimchi, gag, barf.
Please Sasha. You are in Australia now.
You may spew.
You may chunder.
In polite company you may vomit or regurgitate, as I always do.
But if you wish to barf, only do so on the grounds of the US Embassy.
(From The Womens Weekly Guide to Aussie Etiquette).
I thought the official term was “Techincolour yawn?” 😉
Quite correct.
Or if religiously inclined you may call the deity Hughie on the porcelain telephone. (As in “Hughie! … Hughie! … Oh god … Hughie!”).
Should you visit Ireland, you may boke.
I’m prepared to try this just because of the name.
That was in reference to bubble and squeak. And in other news, I kind of like kimchi, but only in small amounts. I also like sauerkraut. I like broccoli cooked, but not raw. Same with cauliflower.
Should not be any real surprise that you cook many recipes with French names; it’s one of the primary veins of Louisiana history. After all, many parts of French-style cooking influence Cajun and Creole cooking. E.g.: Mirepoix-> Trinity,Bouillabaisse-> Gumbo, etc. There are Spanish and African accents thrown in (anyone for okra?) as well. And some unique items exist- I Certainly can’t name another U.S region commonly employing Filé either in leaf or powder form. While having a French name does not make things better, I have to admit pure French cooking is a thing of wonder. People hold their name in high regard because the French earned it. French cooking is some of the best on earth and I’m biased towards spicier fare- Thai, Indian (watch the Naga peppers), and Mexican- which actually exists in Arizona, not just that TexMex which is a poor excuse for a cuisine horribly misrepresented in the states. Since I’m on the subject of food, shout out to the Cuban food I knew growing up in Florida- The Cuban bread, the Ropa Vieja, the Piccadillo, and of course the Pork and morro (black beans and rice). I come from a long line of walking stomachs.
Oddly enough, I spent two weeks in N’Awlins once and couldn’t find a single person who spoke French.
Not any more, no. I grew up in the provinces, and all the old people spoke it but few of my mum’s generation.
I don’t think they really spoke French. 😛
My grandmother and great grandmother would sit around and speak “French” – I remember that well.
And when I took French in college – my DAD tried to teach me a few words – which I tried out on my French teacher and she was like … “WTF?”
I know that Cajun is not pure French … but my grandmother and great grandmother weren’t Cajun … but more of the pure French variety. Actually, my great, great (whatever) grandfather came to the states from Calais, France in 1840.
thanks for the cornbread – chili to go with it, please?!
Different types of salt absolutely make a difference in taste as well as blood pressure. I can’t stand table salt in most foods since I had to stop using it when cooking for my parents. We switched to sea salt because it’s better for people with high bp and hypertension (it made a marked, recorded difference where medications did not). Celtic sea salt tastes fantastic and gives a smoky flavor to foods. I have become extremely sensitive to the various salts. I made the mistake of going to Buffalo Wild Wings with some friends and the sauce that restaurant slathers on those wings is atrocious. I had a blood pressure spike and almost landed in the hospital….and I don’t have blood pressure issues. But anything more than the tiniest pinch of table salt in food and my body reacts horribly.
I never add salt to any meal…except porridge. This *must* be eaten with salt. And any of yous who think otherwise are simply pansies. Sugar or honey destroys the taste. *Waves kilt defiantly*.
LOL! I can imagine the arguments you have with your fellow Scotsmen.
I’m Irish, though of Scots descent. And the Scots were originally an Irish tribe who emigrated to Scotland. History is so *confusing*. (And my kilt has shrunk over the years…)
Too bad you weren’t born in the South, Aspasia! Kid down here are introduced to gradually increasing amounts of salt the moment they are born. We even have salt-lick pacifiers down here (kidding … but not really).
These days I don’t add salt – but I’m immune to it’s effects … that’s for sure – from my childhood growing up down here in the South.
In fact – back in the early ’70’s I used to get fed “salt tablets” when I played baseball in the summertime – it was so damn hot down here. But I think the science behind the salt tablets may have been shit.
the premise has been updated to that whole ‘electrolyte imbalance’ thing. straight-up salt tablets are better suited to power-athletes more or less guzzling water.
This is interesting. When you’re talking about added to the food, the type of salt makes no difference to me at all and I’d not be able to taste the difference. But for seasoning at the table, I do like the crunch of sea-salt flakes.
The one good thing about Addison’s disease is that I get to eat as much salt as I want. And I want a lot.
Addison’s disease?
Doesn’t that make the top of your head explode?
Or am I mixing it up with Mannlicher-Carcanos?
[…] McNeill’s recipe post inspired me to dig up this Classic Sasha post from November 2003. More recipes to […]
Never heard of doberge cake until now. Had to go to Wikipedia and YouTube for that. Now I want some, and I’ll be looking around Dallas for it. If I can get mochi and king cake and bubble tea, I should be able to get doberge cake.