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United States, North Carolina, Carrboro, English, Paul, Male, 56-60, All Music, All Food.

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Sunday, December 12, 2004

Since I’ll soon be working for a Communist government, I thought “What better way to celebrate than a classic Cubano sandwich?” A hearty loaf split in half, both interiors spread with a mustard/mayo/horseradish mixture, then neutral Swiss cheese slices. A few layers of au jus dipped roast pork on one side, thin slices of ham on the other, and longitudinal slices of kosher dill pickles in between. You wet the outer crusts with water that will pump in some steam to heat the fillings, and then smear with melted margarine over the crust just before the whole enchilada lands in the Panini grill. This is an incredible sandwich, full of flavors and textures. Liz and I ate far more than we should have…   5:03:48 PM    comment []

No More Soggy Bottoms!   Electric ovens generally suck. They are never at the desired temperature for long. They just pass through it once as the element is heating, then again after it switches off. The temperature extremes between the element switching on when the thermostat says to and where it coasts after it switches off can be as much as 50 degrees. Not the best environment for a soufflé. So, years ago, I added two heavy bricks on the bottom shelf to act as a buffer, stabilizing the cycles so there are fewer of them and moderating the extremes. The plate resting on them is filled with ceramic tiles so direct radiant heat from the heating element is filtered by them and moderated.   You might also notice that the digital temperature probe is in the very center of the “business” rack. That’s better than the stove’s built-in thermostat, at the back, where temperatures are the hottest. I still rotate baked goods, for evenness of browning, to compensate for that, about 4 times through the period that the recipe dictates.   Well and good. Today’s inspiration for the baguettes soon to jump in was one of those “Aha!” moments. To get a good crust, it’s good to have a pan of water in the oven to keep the humidity high. Unfortunately, if it’s directly under the bread, that means the bottom crust is at a lower temperature. Today I say the space between the bricks and put the water there. It’s right between the heating elements so it should get enough heat to maximize evaporation, but the moisturized air will follow a normal convection pattern up and around the loaves.     2:39:14 PM    comment []

This alligator-like heavy-duty silicone oven mitt arrived in the post yesterday, a present from Sister Bubbles. I am quite pleased. ‘Ove’ Glove, on the other hand, is less than pleased. Perhaps he feels a little threatened? Not to worry, ‘Ove’, when the hot stuff requires digital dexterity to handle, you’re still number one. The silicone mitt covers the entire forearm – a real plus when there’s a hot oven rack above the one where you’re grabbing. While you're focused down below, the upper rack likes to try and burn you across the cubital fossa.                           9:59:32 AM    comment []

Nanny Nanny Boo-Boo   Timothy Noah, aka “chatterbox” at Slate magazine, borrowed from The Sopranos and defined the “Disrespecting The Bing” meme in an April 25, 2001 column. It hasn’t caught on as much as it should. It has darker colors on its dorsal fin and swims in deeper water than its fellow Pisces, “cop a plea.” That fish ends up in the tank while its Bing cousin gets off the hook. Here is the background, as provided by Mr. Noah:   What does it mean to disrespect the Bing? The first thing you have to know is that Tony Soprano conducts his business from the "Bada Bing!," a strip joint that doubles as a sort of Mafia clubhouse. In Episode 32, one of the strippers, an emotionally needy girl named Tracee, got into an argument with her boyfriend, Ralphie Cifaretto, who happens to be this season's hothead-who's-practically-begging-to-get-whacked. She slapped him, and he lost it (he was coked up at the time) and beat her to death with his fists. Which was rendered even more horrifying by the fact that Tracee was carrying Ralphie's child. This all happened in the parking lot behind the Bing. Tony, who harbored paternal feelings toward Tracee that are socially unacceptable within the context of the mob, papered over his rage by saying to Ralphie, "You disrespect this place" and slugging him, which is also unacceptable because Ralphie is a "made man" and a good earner. Two episodes later, Tony grudgingly promoted Ralphie to mob captain on condition that Ralphie apologize. But since Ralphie couldn't apologize for killing a stripper (partly out of pride and partly because it would violate mob etiquette to acknowledge a stripper's humanity), he fumbled around and finally settled on the brilliantly evasive and economical, "I disrespected the Bing." It’s fairly obvious by now that Kerik has made a career out of being a bottom feeder. He has lived in a world where he has to look up to see the bottom 9/10s of the iceberg, nominally residing on “the right side” of the law while freely crossing the moral boundaries that separate it from the dark side. He is larger than life at first view, like a puffer fish asserting territorial imperative, but like all members of his species he begins to stink a few days after you land him. That’s not his fault. Neither a real leopard or a leopard fish can change its spots. He is what he is. A con man with bright shiny scales. I’m not surprised that he took both Guiliani and Bush, they have a long history of gullibility. This one wasn’t as bad as Chalabi because no one died. What I’m saying is that it is likely he never had a nanny at all, that it was the darker revelations, the ones that can never be spoken, that did him in. He doesn’t have a Karl Rove to purge his checkered past, so he pleaded guilty to the lesser offense. That will keep his past safely in deep waters and set him free to give high-dollar inspirational speeches to equally gullible people willing to ante up for the rubber chicken and the pitch. Like that junkie on AM radio, the "shut up" pervert on primetime Fox, and the compulsive gambler who writes high-falutin' treatises on morality, he will find redemption. Like Ollie North, Mike Milken, and G. Gordon Liddy, the crowd that celebrates the moral fiber of criminals who happen to share their political mindset will permanently revere him. Martyred, he'll become a regular on Clear Channel by Spring 2005.   4:00:46 AM    comment []