Aunt Jemima’s Lies

I recently pulled my mom out of maple syrup ignorance when I told her the cheap Aunt Jemima syrup probably did not contain any real maple, just corn syrup and other artificial flavorings. She reported back that maple is the sixth ingredient listed, which means that there is probably little of the tree juice in that plastic bottle.

She was bummed. She felt duped. Unfortunately a lot of the foods I grew up on were fakes. But nothing came close to the fake that is Walden Farms’ “peanut” spread that I found at a convenience store in Seattle. The first tip off – the spread claimed to be-calorie free. With a slight turn of the jar I uncovered that it was free of many other items as well: fat, sugar, cholesterol, carbohydrates and gluten. And of course, no animals or animal by-products were used in the production of this spread—it’s vegan.

So what the hell was in this magical jar?

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The Garnish Debate: Call Me a Rebel

As a little kid I remember parsley garnishes mystifying me. Why did curly greens occupy so much space on my plate—and it’s not even Passover?

But the parsley garnish, for garnish sake, no longer visits our tables. Instead, garnishes spring from what’s in the dish, if a dish is garnished at all. Use cilantro in a sauce, use cilantro as a garnish. Use kumquat in a cupcake, use a kumquat slice as garnish.

David Rocco of Cooking Channel‘s Dolce Vita reiterated this fact in a recent episode, refusing to add a leafy green to top a pasta dish since the dish did not contain it. Instead he cracked fresh pepper on top, silently communicating his heavy usage of pepper in the dish.

Rocco’s commandment popped in my head as I decorated a sweet potato and lentil soup with black mustard seeds.

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Another Victim of the High Fructose Corn Syrup Backlash

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What can I say? Even a girl who’s tasked to write about food on a daily basis needs a pizza and fries kind of night. And so we ordered a large cheese and crispy potatoes on the side. This would have been an uneventful meal save for the use of new ketchup.

It looks like Heinz has fallen to the sword of real sugar and came out with a no-high fructose corn syrup rendition of their tomato spread. Last Target trip, my boyfriend picked up “Simply Heinz” and promptly ditched its chemical predecessor, therefore crippling our chances for a quick blind taste test.

Now, I totally fucking hate ketchup. (Viva la Mustard!) And, frankly, I’m not even sure if homemade ketchup could persuade me otherwise. But I saved one fry from a dip into a spicy mustard for a taste of the newly enhanced, newly natural ketchup. To me, it still tasted like ketchup. I’m still baffled why people want this weird sweet liquid crap on their fries, or anything. Why is it so sweet? Why!

Anyway, 80, an official ambassador for ketchup, liked the new product:

A little bit different. Less sweet. Lighter. Tastes like ketchup I had in England years ago. I probably could tell the difference in a taste test.

So for now, we’ll have to take his word on the difference. But I did steal a packet that they sent with the fries. Testing for another day. In the meantime, feel free to read some brain washing by the Corn Refiners Association.

Photo from flickr user Maalokki

We’ve Changed it for American Tastes

doritos

“We’ve changed it for American tastes.”

It’s something I’ve heard a lot while reporting on food in this country. When I was interviewing Fikru “Chu Chu” Bekele about his Italian restaurant, La Carbonara in DC’s U St. area, he continually told me about how he changed his recipes to accommodate American tastes. He added more cream than necessary.  In Ethiopia, where he is from and once owned an Italian restaurant, he needed to adjust recipes for our taste here, not there.

Last night, at a press dinner at Taberna Del Alabardero, our host explained the make up of the gifts we’d be receiving that night. It was olive oil. In Spain its citizens are used to a more bitter oil, here, a sweet oil. Instead of adhering to its home county for inspiration, the restaurant uses a sweeter oil to cook with. Guests were given a 250ML bottle of extra virgin olive oil packaged in Sevilla, Spain, but given the American taste treatment.

Kushi, a Japanese restaurant in DC, at times creates presentations so authentic it literally made my heart ache for  the real thing.  But it doesn’t serve the cuts of meat so familiar in Japan: heart, cheek, liver….instead, it serves chunks of American-favorite pork belly on a stick.

I was discussing this “dumbing down for Americans” concept with DC food expert David Hagedorn. He reminded me that restaurants are businesses and need to make money. They need to sell food that we will buy and enjoy.

I told him I wished restaurants weren’t always businesses. That they could be institutions for learning, places for people to explore authentic flavors of the world, without the requisite dumbing down for American tastes.

And then I remembered that our national past time is eating Doritos.

Photo Credit: Flick User Mattieb

Getting Sauce-y in San Francisco

Sauce Restaurant potato sticks with dipping sauce

Earlier this year, the San Francisco Board of Supervisors passed a resolution officially encouraging local restaurants to adopt the mantra of “Meatless Mondays,” the one-day-a-week-without-meat initiative pushed by such visionaries as Yoko Ono, Kim O’Donnel and gansie. But contrary to what you might think, not all SF chefs are hippie-dippie enviro crusaders who immediately rallied to the cause.

Ben Paula, the executive chef at Hayes Valley neighborhood spot Sauce and a proponent of putting bacon on everything was one who did respond quickly — by adding a Monday night prime rib special to his menu. After dining at Sauce, I can see why. We here at ES support eating local, lowering your meat intake and all the rest of it, but this is one restaurant where I might cry if I returned and they had dropped the pork.

We started with the app you see above, which Chef Ben humbly calls tater tots, but that’s a bit of an undersell. Creamy mashed potatoes are mixed with white truffle oil and cremini mushrooms, then breaded and fried crispy. A tasty snack even for a vegetarian, actually, but I dare anyone not to dip them in the smoked gouda and bacon fondue provided. Personally, I wanted to take a bath in it.

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Who’s Afraid of the Big, Bad Egg?

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Now that I work from home my morning routine is different. Instead of springing out of bed, having waited for the last of the possible “snoozes,” I now roll over, shut my alarm off and open my email. Right there in bed, with the ease of my newly updated (software version 4.0.2) iPhone.

First I check my work email to make sure nothing insane has happened, then my personal email. I receive a few blog posts directly to my email (otherwise I’m really terrible at keeping up with other food blogs that I enjoy). One of these is from Macheesmo.

Yesterday Nick wrote a thoughtful piece on the recent egg recall. As eggs’ number one fan, I knew this sort of danger was coming. But also as eggs’ fan, I know to buy my yolky treats straight from farmers. Farmers (thank you Truck Patch) that raise chickens as chickens should be raised, not cramped in an immoral amount of space and fed, well, I can’t be sure, but it’s not natural.

While most egg buyers tucked their sunny side up desires away, I, instead, dreamed of how I would use eggs in my lunch that very day.

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A Pocket of Sweetness

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From what I’ve seen so far, there are two philosophies on farmers’ markets. One is of the hyper-local paradigm. Everything sold at the market must be grown within a 200-ish mile radius of the market. Produce should be grown with respect to the environment (no-no on harmful pesticides) and animals should be treated like animals, with room to hang outside and eat what their bodies are meant to eat (not corn, corn, corn, corn, corn). If vendors sell prepared food they must also adhere to locally grown ingredients and use the least amount of packaging possible.

Then there’s the farmers’ market that features produce, as well as crafts and ready made food, without abiding to an all-local creed.

A carbon footprint rant will have to wait for another day, as I found the latter type of market (raved about here) in Long Beach, California. Most of the produce came from a few hours from SoCal. But not all vendors followed. This is where I found Patrick Pirson and his hyper-authentic, yet totally not locally sourced waffles.

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