Go Fishing with Your iPhone

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I try to be a socially-responsible eater, but it’s tough to take an absolute stand and commit to one of the usual categories.  I’m not a locavore, a vegetarian, a vegan or an organics-only diner.  The main problem is that, even if I could get on board from a taste perspective, I know I’ll never keep at it.  Heck, I can’t even swear off eating human brains because I know that diet will go to shit during the inevitable zombie outbreak.

But one area I do try to do my best to make wise choices is when I purchase and eat seafood.  The numbers are startling and the prognosis grim when it comes to the future of many of the most popular seafood choices.  It’s no surprise when you hear about customers asking high-profile restaurants like Nobu to lay off the bluefin tuna.

The challenge for a responsible seafood eater is not just picking the right species of fish, but there are also considerations such as the location from which the seafood was taken (geography as well as farmed vs. wild) and the method by which it was taken, with some techniques vastly preferable to others.  Keeping it all straight can be difficult.

Fortunately, the folks at the Monterey Bay Aquarium have made it considerably easier by issuing “Seafood Guide,” (iTunes link) a free iPhone application that provides diners and shoppers with the latest info about how to make choices that support sustainability. Armed with the necessary information, I wanted to see how easy it was to be a smart diner on a trip to Bonefish Grill, a national chain of seafood restaurants.

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And The Bible Told Me So

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I’m just a tiny bit competitive. If BS is making asparagus soup, gansie must make some asparagus soup. Plus, it was my idea (see comments) in the first place.

So please, I welcome you on my asparagus soup making journey. It was a shit show.

Okay, so blah, blah, blah I don’t follow recipes. I made my own asparagus stock, according to Martha, and then sorta followed the BS endorsed recipe. Well, except for a few KEY ingredients.

The soup called for heavy cream and lemon. Like an ass, I thought I could sub yogurt for that combo: the yogurt could add a creaminess (heavy cream) and tartness (lemon.) Well, I made a boatload of soup and I guess the amount of yogurt I added in no way enhanced the flavor, nor the texture.

So then I added curry powder. And then ginger. And no luck. Still was fairly unflavorful. I think I used too much onion in comparison to the asparagus. I was PISTED. I mean, what asshole fucks up soup.

I checked out my fridge – longing to add depth to this vat of green liquid. I spotted red wine. An acid was desperately needed. But when I called out this almost revelation, the couch-dwelling 80P negged the idea. But then he suggested I consult the bible. The Flavor Bible, that is. It recommended red wine vinegar. I added a scant tablespoon and it automatically perked up the soup. I served it, but still lamented about its unsuccess.

Cue day two.

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It’s On

Now, I know ES is like a big family or whatever and we all share the spotlight equally and we all get along because we have the greater good in mind – food obsession. But, you know what, BS:

EGGS ARE MINE

Don’t think you can “write” a post with a ton of pictures of eggs and think you’ve become the reigning monarch of the land of eggs. Or something like that.

Well, this is what I’m been up to. And, TVFF, I’m not done with you either.

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Cream cheese, wilted arugula, lox, sunny side up egg on my friend Hickey’s dad’s awesome homemade bread. It was baked with some craziness like molasses and oats.

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Sandwich Making Time

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80P is in serious finals mode. I think he has something like writing four papers in four days. While I can’t help his regression model, or something like that, I can for sure buy him some studying food. What’s easier to eat than a sandwich while compiling a literature review?

And I swear, I was sandwichin‘ before I saw the WaPo’s ode to this fine invention.

But, I have to say, I surely haven’t been eating sandwiches like I used to. I don’t usually follow trends (fine, I wear skinny jeans and my leggings have stirrups) but the no-carb phenom forced me to reconsider my pasta and bagel habits. Not that I ever gave them up completely, but the monitoring was there. And I tried to ingest only whole wheat ones at that. But at Monday night’s Bestway, a desolated bread aisle was found and I had to choose either buttermilk flavored Wonderbread or six inch sub rolls…

So with my sub rolls and a few fillings back in the fridge it was sandwich makin’ time.

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Ramping Up for a Season of Gush

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Picture me with my arms stretched out, my fingers in jazz-hands positioning, and gushing about lily pad perfect bibb lettuce, three feet tall scallion stalks and a fresh loaf of spelt bread. It’s farmers’ market season, boys, girls and those who identify otherwise.

It’s ON.

It’s so on that I actually openly gush to the vendors. When I’m stammering half out loud, half to my market friend westcoast and, and well, if there three halves, half in my head, about how I’m just so very excited to be outside, browsing fresh produce and even fresher mozzarella cheese. How is it possible that the creamy white pillows resting in water can be called the same name as the shredded, plastic bag dwelling yellow cheese? Tell me, because fucks if I know. Or the cheese producer that I asked as I closed my eyes and let his version of motz float down my throat.

My first visit to the Silver Spring market yielded my first go at ramps. They are part of the onion family, look more like scallions than regular onions, but are tiny and leafy and expensive. Of course westcoast and I bought three bundles. After the market he came over and we scrambled together sauteed ramps in my newly purchased European-style butter, and scrambled in farm fresh eggs and feta. And I think chives too. I don’t know. After my high from the market my hangover took over and the details of the cooking are sketchy.

But I still had a bundle of ramps left a week later, and with wilting on its way, I had to act quick…

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Finding Beauty in a Tin Can

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So I kinda lied to you. I reported back in July 2008 that I had recreated a tuna fish salad and enjoyed it. Well, that was the lie. I do not like tuna from the can. I cringe at every bite. I pretend that mustard is to tuna fish as sugar is to medicine. But even Mary Poppins knows the truth.

I did however, figure out a new way to prepare this cheap, pantry staple. And when I say “new” I mean new to my apartment. I guess there’s something called a tuna casserole. I’ve never had one. Never. Gross. I mean, velvetta, cream of celery soup and mayo? No.

But I knew somewhere behind the American–style goop there was something to be said for the chunked fish paired with cream and noodles. Well, I found a version that I can say is not tacky and really tasty. It may even be something you could whip up without a grocery store trip. It’s kind of cheating using prepared items, but because I was so enamored with the results, I find it worthy to share. Click to continue.

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Is Gefilte Fish the New Bacon?

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That’s Heeb Magazine’s question, noting the oft-maligned Passover appetizer is having a bit of a foodie moment. Personally, I have to be honest. I never tried this at sedars when I was a kid — why would you eat gooey fish balls when there were fried latkes to be had? — and somehow I have managed to never come across it as an adult. It’s true — I’ve never had gefilte fish. I know, worst half-Jew ever.

Is it really as bad as people say? Or as good as those other people say? Maybe I’ll go out and buy some this Pesach. Or Maybe I’ll just catch a gefilte fish wrestling match:

(Photo: Eszter)

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