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Archive for the ‘American Food’ Category

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You don’t need to be a rock star, neighborhood butcher. Really. We loved you just as you were before you were a celebrity.

Meow meow meow meow.

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A sable special at Murray’s bagels

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A box of wagashi, including one like the one above

Cover image of La Cucina Italiana for June, 2009

Farro lasagna

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Kakigori which froze my tongue so much that when I talked near the end of it I sounded drunk

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Hot dogs with lots of ‘Greek-style’ onions and papaya drinks

Waterfront dining above at SouthWest

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Katz’s and the ever-so-gently pickled pickles are so good

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Hungarian Pastry Shop

And last but not least, a link to the menu at Henry’s End.

How many days was I in NYC?

(Not enough!) 🙂

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Radical Chic, after all, is only radical in style; in its heart it is part of Society and its traditions. (Tom Wolfe, Radical Chic & Mau-Mauing the Flak Catchers -1970)

Ramps. I’m sick and tired of ’em. You hear about them here there and everywhere. They are the new Darlings (or rather they are hanging on by a thread to being the new Darlings, but that is merely because there has been no contender for the title) of the Hip Veggie world.

For the past several years, ramps have been vociferously promenading the Red Carpet that was previously pranced upon by arugula merrily towing its attendant baby veggies.

Surely the time has come for a change. Ramps, my dears, are passé. I do not want to read of ramps anymore in drinks, salads, crusts, and soups. Soggy old ramps! Your day is past.

It is time for a New Star on the Red Carpet and it really should be Creasy Greens. From Dave’s Garden:

At the first hint of spring in the Appalachian Mountains, folks start looking for “creasy greens”. They are the earliest of any of the wild greens, often poking through the snow, and although traditionally hunted by foragers they are now grown commercially. Creasy greens are usually cooked long, like kale, mustard or turnip greens but they are equally good raw in a fresh salad.

Here’s a personal story about the Soon-To-Be-Star from The Herbwife’s Kitchen

When I was a tiny kid I used to love climbing around the hillside above our pasture looking for creasy greens in the early spring.

I still love creasy greens.

Creasy greens are Barbarea verna, in the mustard family. They taste a little mustardy, a little sweet, a little bitter. Reminiscent of very young collards, but wilder.

I like to pick them when they’re about to bloom, when they’re a lot like “wild broccoli” (or broccolini, rapini, broccoli raab, or whatever they’re calling it these days).

This season’s Spring Fashion is done with. Let’s get Cutting Edge. Start to think Creasy Greens.
You can even grow your own from Heirloom Seeds! To be ahead of the crowd!

Creasy Greens. Watch out for them. My fashion prediction is that you’ll see  them everywhere next Spring. And they won’t be cheap, dressed up in their new Red Carpet attire!

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I’ve been thinking a bit about Jello lately. Rachel Laudan mentioned it in a comment about style . . . and it’s been stuck in my mind ever since.

San Francisco is a gorgeous place, but I do think it looks even better in Liz Hickok’s jello art shown above.

Maybe on some Mother’s Day I’ll take the whole day off to just play with Jello!  That might be lots and lots of fun!

I searched for more jello art and found a few pieces on flickr. They are more somber pieces than Liz’s. But then San Francisco was not the subject at hand.

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Rasputin is coming to mind. I have no idea why.

Some interesting colors in this jello art

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There are many more photos of the San Francisco piece on Liz Hickok’s website.

A video of  jello? Sure, why not.

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Watch the dancing pickles then listen to the song!

I’ve heard this song before, often – but never did I know it was called The Dill Pickle Rag!

(Do you think the pickles were deep-fried?)

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Easter is tomorrow. I’ve been so busy this week with running around with my charming children that my menu has not been designed yet. I’m not sure where this leaves me in God’s graces. If I do not make a big dinner, will I have crossed some invisible boundary that separates those who are heading to Heaven from those who . . . well, you know.

Somewhere in some corner of the earth, I’m certain there is someone spreading Wonder Bread with butter. Or worse, with mustard. For dinner.

I figure whatever I plan it will be better than that.

I do like a bit of butter to my bread. But the Easter Bunny simply won’t be happy with just that, I don’t think.

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For recipe, click on photo.

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