Endless Simmer - A Food Blog

At a work conference last month I had a food breakthrough. Usually at conferences there’s terribleness: dry fish, boring chicken, well-done beef and enough half-empty plastic water bottles to fill a city dumpster. And while this latest outing surely contained those components, it also proved to open my horizon, or whatever that cliche is.

In college and shortly after, I only ate Caesar salads. Only. I liked them with grilled (or fine, breaded and fried) chicken and hard boiled eggs, but no croutons. I don’t know, the crunch bothered me and they’re so hard to get on the fork. Oh, and sometimes I’d take it in a wrap - the only real variation.

But, I’m growing up. I now add grains, avocado, red peppers and I don’t know, a million other things. But I just couldn’t handle the F-word: FRUIT.

Blackberries - love them, strawberries - love them, grapes - love them. In salads - never.

But then I went for it.

With the force of BS (and his pro-fruit agenda) behind me, I chose the mandarin orange and cranberry salad over mixed greens rather than the tired Romain. And I can’t lie, it was fabulous. The little bits of mandarin became a pop of flavor, letting the light vinaigrette mingle in the background with the assortment of cucumber slices and carrot shreds. Now I can’t say I’m a total convert, but once in a while I will worship to the alter of fruity salads.

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Anton Ego, Food Critic, Ratatouille

Hi all. Welcome to the next edition of Ask a Professional, Answer a Blogger.

one / “mom, dad, well, i’m not pregnant”

Downtown/The Hill: Hey Tom! I need your expert guidance. My boyfriend and I need to tell my parents that we are (gulp!) moving in together. They will be in town in a few weeks and we thought we tell them over dinner. I sent the menu of Central to my Dad and he balked. Can you recommend the perfect, moderately priced, meat and potatoes or Italian restaurant we could go to? They will be staying near Galludet and I work downtown, so in the vicinity of either would be great.

Thanks so much!!!

Tom Sietsema: Try the revamped Dish in Foggy Bottom, Sette Osteria in Dupont Circle, maybe the new Marvin on 14th St. NW, near V.

gansie: aaaahhhh. I super sympathize with this girl. Dropping the whole “living in sin” bomb was NOT on my list of favorite things to discuss with the parental units. All I can say is, I hope her boyfriend doesn’t have to go under the knife when parents finally visit. My suggested restaurant for this occasion: Bistrot du Coin. It’s affordable, absolutely delicious and will supply enough noise to block out any awkward silences.

two / dining with animals is quite common in Europe

New York, NY: Dear Tom:

Visiting D.C. last weekend, I was enjoying a fine meal at Hook on M St. in Georgetown with three friends — we were the last four in the upstairs dining room, close to midnight — enjoying dessert when over by the window, under a table, I spied a large white rat. I called over a staff member and told him what I had seen; he went over and confirmed that there was indeed a rat there.

His explanation was “construction”‘ next door. No apology. No offer to buy us a drink or dessert or to even send over a more senior staff or manager.

I live in New York and do not spook easily — this is just an unacceptable situation.

Tom Sietsema: Yep, a manager should have been called in to address the issue. Even a “I’m so sorry, let me look into the problem” from someone senior would have been nice.

A question for lurking restaurateurs: What kind of compensation, if any, does such an incident merit?

_____________

Capitol Hill, D.C.: Would you really want free food from a restaurant that had a rat in it?

Tom Sietsema: I’d vote for a cocktail myself. Something strong.

gansie: I think I’m with Tom on this one - one dirty martini for the girl who’s standing on her chair, screaming about the rat.80′d take an after dinner 10 year tawny port. Dad gansie - a dessert to go.

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Editors Note: Now that BK has taken a breather from bashing our friend, Alton, he’s now talking smack about vegetables.

Recently, I made pico de gallo and my hands reeked like onion for three days. Which stinks, both literally and psychologically, because it came out really well, but I am discouraged to make it again due to the odor. I tried some pretty aggressive soaps, but to no avail.

So I did a little research on the subject and found that if you rub your hands on stainless steel while running them under water, it would remove the smell. I gave it a shot with my stainless steel spoon rest (sadly, some of my spoons have chronic fatigue.)

Not surprisingly it worked. I loved this new discovery so much that I bought a stainless steel bar made to look like soap from MoMA. It now serves the doubly important role of removing onion and garlic smells from my hands and confusing people at my kitchen sink.

If only during my single days they would have made some sort of stainless steel gum that I could have used after garlic loaded Italian dinners. I may have done better with the ladies.

Pico de Gallo

No particular amounts. Just tomato, onion, cilantro, salt, pepper and white wine vinegar and little bit of diced cucumber to brighten it up.

Photo: 80P / Title: A Rose? Get it?

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Editors Note: If you’ve been reading Endless Simmer for a bit, you’ve heard of the notorious D.A.D. gansie. If not, just scroll through a few pages and I’m sure you’ll find something you won’t understand, written by my father. He even called me a bastard once. Regardless, even though my dad might not make any sense in his commenting on the blog, he actually can cook. Here is dad gansie’s first post. Mostly unedited.

Here’s some pics for you. Stef, whatever you want to put in your blog:

Here’s some story:

After gansie’s lonely ripe banana it inspired me to make a pie of the several I had, with the comments it gave me the idea to put in pb, but SAG and I also like choc chips, both semi and milk.

I put chips in the sliced ban put some pb on top and put some pb on the chips and placed into the mix after I poured it. It was fun making it. Just made up the recipe with 5-6 small ripe bans, 1-cup egg sub, 5-tbls splenda, a pour of vanilla and cinnamon, can fat free evap milk.

Dough was fun too that the gang got me a KitchenAid Artisan Stand Mixer. Their 2 crust recipe. You’ll let me know if details are requested.

love dad gansie

ps - you add that the flour tin is from oma when they got married 1947

Editors Note, cont: Yes, dad. I think we might need some more details. Can you please supply us with the dough recipe as well as the cooking time and temp. Thanks!

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Photo: 80p, clearly.

Spicy lentil dahl is the overlooked stepchild of any fancy Indian dinner, often lost between the savory samosas and the heat-packing curries. Poor, lonely dahl is even overshadowed by its own dipping vehicle, the wonderfully crisp naan.

But dahl, (also spelled daal, dal or dhal) is quite delicious in its own right, and I recently got to thinking it can’t be too hard to cook at home. Now, as you all know, I’m not really one for careful, planned-out testing of recipes. Usually I just take something tried and true, crush some pine nuts on top, throw in a weird fruit, and proclaim myself a genius. But for my dahl experimentation, I decided to go all Cooks Illustrated on ya’ll and try this baby until I got it perfect.

My online research revealed a wide range of recipes, but general agreement on the basics. Red lentils are the best, and they are boiled up with water, onions, garlic and spices, then covered and steamed just like rice. This epicurious recipe is a pretty typical example.

The main controversy comes over how to break up the lentils. Some say to soak them overnight beforehand; others insist the dahl must be blended in a food processor afterwards. I tried both and found them equally effective. (Obv. the blending is less time consuming.) Although if you prefer your dahl thick and chunky rather than sleek and smooth, neither method is necessary. Pictures of both creamy and chunky varieties coming up…

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You know those Hungry Man commercials. It’s like, oh, only wussies eat salad or whatever. Okay, that was a bad impression, but I think you know what I’m talking about. The whole notion that MEN need a pound of food is sexist and unhealthy. Not to mention completely fucking wrong.

So it was nice to see Men’s Health feature the 20 worst foods found in restaurants, plus suggestions for alternatives. Vanity is in.

Photo: Scritchy Pictures

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Over on our Facebook page earlier this week, Endless Simmer was ruminating about how excited we are for Peeps Season. (Of course you already know this if you are friends with us.)

Seriously though, how awesome is Easter? Jellybeans, Cadbury’s eggs, marshmallow peeps - it’s like Halloween but with Jesus. And this year, it comes extra early. Oh man, we must have been good this year or something.

Building on our excitement, JoeHoya wanted to make sure we knew the Washington Post runs an annual PEEPS DIORAMA CONTEST.

It’s OK, take a minute. I’m sure you’re staggering back with excitement the same way I was. Here are the details:

We want you to make a diorama of a famous occurrence or scene. It can be a historical, current or future event, or it can be a nod to pop culture. The main rule is that all the characters must be played by Peeps, those marshmallowy chicks and rabbits that start plaguing checkout lines in every grocery and convenience store this time of year….The winner will receive a $100 American Express gift check and a Peeps prize pack courtesy of Just Born, the company that owns the Peeps brand. Four runners-up will receive a $50 American Express gift check and a Peeps prize pack.

Let’s recap:

You get to make a diorama, for the first time since grade school, you have to incorporate peeps, you can win dollar bills, and “Extra credit may be given to deft use of puns in the concept or title.”

Oh it’s on.

Photo: WaPo

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So I took another pic of a fruit basking in a sunset…sue me.

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I know, I know, believe it or not, I do have a day job. And it’s for a non-profit. So as much as I’d love to go out to eat at my fav places every night, or cook fantastic meals, sometimes I slum it.

Exhibit A:

Normally, I would have thrown that sucker out. But, I looked at it twice. As a thing of beauty. As a slice of life I shouldn’t waste. And so I mashed the banana up with some natural peanut butter** and created a creamy, and slightly chunky open faced sandwich. On wheat toast. With a side of ruffled plain potato chips.

**Holy crap. There are like a million different kinds of peanut butters. Or, I should say: NUT BUTTERS. So 80 and I are in Whole Foods selecting over-priced ingredients for our “V-day” celebration and I remember that I just ran out of peanut butter. (Hint, Hint - 80. This is your girlfriend nagging you to write up our Vday dinner.)

Now growing up in little ole Cherry Hill, New Jersey I only remember two kinds of PB - Jif and Peter Pan (I was a Jif girl.) And then I found out there was “chunky” which I thought was disgusting, as I hated peanuts (I’ve grown to like them since) and I didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that my beloved peanut butter was actually made from peanuts. Okay, I’ll reveal one more secret just so I can beat dad gansie to the punch: my elementary school lunch sandwich consisted of peanut butter on a hamburger bun. Period.

Okay, back to WF. Since I don’t frequent that grocer very often, I haven’t memorized the aisles so I had to ask where the PB was. I was swiftly corrected that I would be taken to the NUT BUTTER aisle. Anyway I get there and just fucking stare. Meanwhile, 80, who is itchin to get out of there at this point (he has his gourmet beer so he’s ready) is not super thrilled when he finds me open-mouthed and rummaging through: soy butter, soy peanut butter, almond butter, cashew butter, organic fill-in-the-blank nut butter, natural peanut butter, natural organic peanut butter and blah blah blah I’m going insane! I ended up just getting what I came for (10 minutes later) - natural peanut butter. Phew.

Hold up - one more Q - why is natural PB so funky in that the oil separates from the rest of the creaminess? JoeHoya? Anyone?

*Spoiler Alert*
And OMFG - I can’t believe the ending of this week’s LOST. The Baby!

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