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Archive for the ‘Food’ Category

SFC's Little Men by Warren GoodrichI’m a good tipper. As long as the service is good, I generally tip 20% because after a glass or two of wine, the math on 20% is easier than figuring out 15%. (Yes, I can be that lazy.)

I understand the business model for restaurant wait-staff–low wages are compensated for by customer tips–but I’ve never liked it. It’s unreliable and it’s inherently unfair to the back-of-the-house workers. Also, different shifts receive different pay (lunch crowds tip less than evening diners), and different nights can bring vastly different take-home pay for staff who depend on tips. A couple weeks of low patronage can mean a waiter might not earn enough to make the rent.

In short, it’s a centuries-old scheme that depends on the kindness of strangers. It is flawed from the get-go, and I would be pleased as Punch if we tossed it into the rubbish bin of social history.

Here in Seattle, it seems we’re preparing to do exactly that. Or, at least, we’re preparing to give it a serious makeover. (more…)

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Don't Call It a "Jaffa" CakeThe last time I was in Britain there was a flap over the use of the phrase “Jaffa Cake.” McVities, the biscuit company who introduced the original Jaffa Cakes in 1927, neglected to trademark the name and thus it was open for others to use.

I adore Jaffa Cakes–small disks of sponge cake topped with orange jelly and a cover of chocolate–so when a friend asked me to bring a dessert for Easter dinner, I had an inspiration for a super-sized version of my little favorites. But don’t call it a “Jaffa” cake…I don’t want an infringement lawsuit slapped on me!

For those with celiac disease, this is a gluten-free cake. (more…)

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The restaurant business is difficult. Long hours, slim profit margins, physically demanding work…you really have to love it, because it requires dedication and toil. It’s also really easy to screw up.

I am not a food snob. I’m willing to overlook a lot when I go to a restaurant. If service is slow, maybe it’s because they’re understaffed that evening. If I ordered brown rice and got white rice, I’m not going to send it back. If the cup of tea I requested never arrives, I’ll be okay. It’s all in how you set your expectations; I try to be realistic with mine and it saves me useless frustration.

Thus, when my friends raved about Pasta Freska, a small Italian ristorante down on Westlake in Seattle–the food is crazy good, they told me, and the way Chef Mike runs the place is so unusual; they were all sure I’d love the place–I took their reviews with a dash of salt.

In my experience, small “unusual” restaurants run by “Chef” so-and-so are a gamble, so in order to avoid disappointment I consciously did two things: opened my wallet, and dropped my expectations to the floor.

Good thing.

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Simple LivingBiscotti. You can’t have just one.

No…literally, you can’t have just one biscotti, because biscotti is the plural form. If you only have one, you have a biscotto. The word biscotti (and biscuit, for that matter) comes from the Latin root: bis – coctus, meaning “twice-cooked,” and they are, indeed, baked twice. What I like best about biscotti is that the recipe is essentially a blank slate that allows for myriad variations.

Below you’ll find two of my variations: Classic biscotti, with that lemon and anise-seed flavor, and my Holiday biscotti, with orange and cranberries. Check the Notes for ideas on additional variations.

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Simple LivingI don’t like turkey.

This will come as a shock to my family, who as I grew up watched me order a turkey sandwich every time we went out to eat. It didn’t matter where we went or when–breakfast at IHOP, dinner at Denny’s, a special meal at Sabella’s–I always ordered a turkey sandwich. (I was also always served last, but that’s an entirely different story.) I would order the turkey sandwich, the club sandwich, or (in a pinch) the hot turkey open-face sandwich; it didn’t really matter as long as it had turkey.

I loved turkey. (more…)

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Chuck Mangione’s Signature Hat
at the Smithsonian

My first master class was with Chuck Mangione, jazz composer and flugelhorn player par excellence. He came to my school, sat down with a group of student musicians, and attempted to speak to us about music, as a profession, and as a way of life. When it came time for the Q&A portion, one of the participants asked him, “Why the hat?” Chuck always wore a hat. It was his signature, his trademark, his brand. 

His answer, in those days of personal dignity and privacy, was, “Next question,” which was his polite way of saying, “Don’t be a dick.”

I don’t remember much else from that master class, just Chuck, the hat, the question, and “Don’t be a dick.”

Since then, I’ve participated in many other master classes (mostly from musicians), and each time I strove to get as much as I could from the experience. It’s a rare enough event to be able to sit down with a master artist or craftsman and have a conversation. After that first time, I never wanted to waste the opportunity again.

So, last Sunday, when I had the opportunity to learn from Bruce Naftaly, acclaimed master chef and proprietor of Le Gourmand (formerly a restaurant and now a cooking school), I was determined to learn as much as I could… and not to be a dick. (more…)

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Prosciutto. Capicola. Pancetta. Lonzino. Bresaola.

I’ve always enjoyed this kind of charcuterie, when it’s done well. In recent years, though, the quality of products in the shops has really declined. It used to be I could find decent prosciutto at our regular grocery, but now I have to go to high-end shops or specialty purveyors to find anything approaching decent quality. Prices, naturally, have skyrocketed as well.

I’ve always wanted to try my hand at charcuterie, but I didn’t have a cave to hang the meat for a year while it aged. Then, a couple of months ago, I heard about a product that allowed me to make charcuterie at home, in my fridge. Reviews were good, so I gave it a try.

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