“Categorization of baked goods (and pancakes) in English and Chinese” - from my blog ‘haonowshaokao’
-James
A scone by any other name…
Source: ilovecharts
Jiro is an incredibly candid man. Some of his friends joke that he’s not Japanese because he is so open and honest in his speech. And we are fortunate that this is true, because he’s an extraordinary man with a lot of wisdom to impart. His way of life applies to everything. As Jiro says in the film, “You have to love what you do, you have to fall in love with your work.” I think that sentiment is inspiring no matter what your job is.
Brief, but wonderful, interview with David Gelb, director of the charming, inspired, and inspiring documentary Jiro Dreams of Sushi, now in select theaters. Trailer below, for your mouthwatering enjoyment.
Source: The Huffington Post
n the post-disaster America that Katniss inhabits, food is a source of power, the oil that allows the administrative machine to function. Individuals have limited choices: All is decided somewhere else. That is, unless citizens decide to break the rules: Katniss poaches for game in places where she’s not supposed to roam, strategically uses provisions to secure her victory in the arena, and even manages to use food to force her will on the omnipotent authorities.
Chef Shola Olunloyo To Demo Modernist Technique at Philly Science Fest
Chef Shola Olunloyo of Studiokitchen is teaming up with the Monell Center to do some high-end techy presentations involving flavor extractions during The Philadelphia Science Festival. Olunloyo, who is best known for using the latest space-age technologies in his cooking process, will be instantly aging whiskey and baking bread without yeast as well as other interactive demos during the April 24th event at The World Cafe.
(via Eater Philly)
Source: philly.eater.com
“Then you’re not going crazy,” she replied. “If you were really an addict or obsessive-compulsive, this chilly-killy thing would interfere with your entire life.” She ended by telling me that if I went back to that same stand in Mexico, I would likely be disappointed—“it’s not really about the meal, it’s about the sense of contentment you felt on vacation”—and reminding me to call Aunt Debbe for her birthday.
Her words only half-comforted me. I was exhausted from the hunt. I retreated from Mexican food entirely. I stayed clean for a few months, until my birthday, when I gave in and allowed myself another taste.
Source: gilttaste.com
4 American Classics, 1 Machine: Gourmet Cooking in a Waffle Iron
You’ll want to trim your edges, give those to your dog or something, but I just ate them. Yum. Sorry, dog. I’ve recently made you an Adidas tracksuit, enough is enough.
Local favorite cool-idea-slinger Luxirare has decided to scale back her normal, over-the-top culinary explorations and put put some constraints on herself by limiting time a few minutes, money (no truffles here), ingredients (nothing you can’t get at the corner grocery), and cooking technique (waffle iron)
In this epic post, she tackles:
- Corned beef hash: Mashed potatoes wrapped in crispy prosciutto puree.
- Pizza: like a waffle-y calzone
- Philly cheesesteak: like a wiz wit encased in flakey phyllo. Inspired.
- Oreo waffle ice cream sandwich: hot, cold, black, white. Striking.
Girl has an eye. Need to upgrade my current waffle capabilities. The Toastmaster ain’t cuttin’ it. Need to go Belgian or not at all.
Pan-crisped deviled eggs over greens and stuff, with bacon.
Going Out To Dinner With Food-Loving Friend A Huge Ordeal
Going out to dinner with 41-year-old self-described gourmand David Loomis has become a massive, aggravating ordeal, exasperated friends confirmed Monday. “Once we can finally settle on a restaurant that’s ‘authentic’ enough for Dave, he will pretty much exclusively talk about how certain things are prepared or the chef’s career up until that point rather than have an actual conversation with the people at the table,” said best friend Henry Tan, 39, who has been chastised by Loomis on no fewer than four occasions for mispronouncing the names of ethnic dishes. “Most times, he won’t even let you order what you want, and instead you have to get some weird thing that a particular place is ‘known for’—not that I’ve ever seen Dave served anything that he didn’t have some huge problem with.” Tan added that he thought the traditional Japanese ramen Loomis recently forced him to try after waiting more than two hours for a table at a new restaurant was “pretty good” and not the “bland, pedestrian trainwreck” the intense lover of food described.
(via The Onion)
There was so much I did not understand that first winter about how important it is to carry reminders of home when you go to hostile places. The hardest part was never the bombs, it was the lack of the familiar, a sense of the predictable, of even the most mundane pleasure. War zones are stripped down. Usually there are no choices — about what to eat, or much else. The food is mostly cold and functional. The kind you can shove into a pocket or throw under a car seat: protein bars, raisins, a box of potato chips. These are calories, not cuisine.
That first cold year, I came to understand the seemingly contradictory impulses that whipsawed me. I wanted to go to the back of beyond. I needed to push myself to some geographic and emotional edge, but I was homesick. I dreamed of home and, not least, of the foods that signified home.
