Month: November 2004

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Deglazing: It works like magic

Here’s how it works. You roast a turkey (or chicken or duck or roast beef or veal or pork). Don’t use a nonstick pan if you can avoid it because you actually want to encourage sticking. The browned bits are full of flavor that will wind up in your sauce. The roast comes out of the oven. You remove it to a carving board and let it rest. You have to do this anyway before you carve it. While it’s resting, you make a little deglazing sauce.

Pour most of the fat out of the roasting pan; leave just a tablespoon or so. Place the pan on the stove, over two burners if it’s a big pan. Turn the heat on low, toss in some chopped shallots and “sweat” them — just let them cook until they’re tender, about five minutes or so. Now turn the heat to high, and add liquid.

Wine is what I usually use; red or white, depending on what I’ll be drinking with dinner. If you use a wine that’s similar to what you’ll be serving with the meal, it will make a natural flavor “bridge.” (If you’re drinking something pricey, use a less expensive version for the sauce.) But really, any dry wine — except maybe an over-oaked Chardonnay — will do.

Pour the wine into the pan and, using a wooden spoon, start scraping up all the wonderful browned bits and caramelized stuff from the bottom. Keep deglazing in this way, scraping and reducing, adding more wine if necessary, over high heat until the bottom of the pan is completely smooth. (Incidentally, it will be quite easy to clean after this.) For the simplest sauce, if you’ve just roasted an everyday chicken or really any kind of meat, you can go ahead and add salt and pepper to taste, and pour the sauce into a sauceboat. (Strain or not strain, as you like.)

But if you want a sauce that’s a little richer, take it another step: Add some stock — as much or as little as you want, either chicken broth from a box or can, or homemade chicken stock or veal stock. For an even richer sauce, reduce chicken stock by half before adding it.

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Carve the Pumpkin, Eat the Squash

For Americans the word pumpkin describes the familiar lightly ridged orange squashes that are turned into jack-o’-lanterns and sometimes pie. In other cultures the terms pumpkin and squash, referring to hard-skinned winter squashes, are interchangeable.

Among horticulturists, botanical classifications are preferred and… squashes are divided among Cucurbita maxima, Cucurbita moschata, Cucurbita pepo and Cucurbita argyrosperma…

Winter squash should be stored as you would good red wine, between 50 and 60°F; if you leave it outdoors, do not let it freeze. As winter squashes age — and some can last months — they lose water and the flavor becomes more concentrated.

Florence Fabricant. “Carve the Pumpkin, Eat the Squash.” The New York Times. 24 November 2004. <www.nytimes.com/2004/11/24/dining/24SQUA.html> (26 November 2004).

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Isaac Newton in the Kitchen

Caramelization, [explained Harold McGee, who first bonded rigorous science to popular cookery in his 1984 book, “On Food and Cooking,”] is what happens to sugar — simple sucrose molecules — exposed to high heat. But the browning that takes place in savory foods like onions, potatoes, celery and turkey skin is a “Maillard reaction,” the explosive meeting of a carbohydrate molecule (which may or may not be a sugar) and an amino acid in a hot, dry environment.

Maillard reactions take place when coffee or cocoa beans are roasted or when a bread crust turns brown. Mr. McGee said: “Maillard reactions contribute even more to the pleasures of eating than caramelization does. But of course it doesn’t sound as good on a menu.”

Julia Moskin. “Isaac Newton in the Kitchen.” The New York Times. 24 November 2004. <www.nytimes.com/2004/11/24/dining/24SCIE.html> (26 November 2004).

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Epi-curious

It is a bitter November day and a leaden sky hangs low between the ridge tops. The leaves are all off of the trees — save for the oaks, which will hold on to their dead leaves until Spring, when new ones will push them aside.

On this day I was catching up on some reading… I started with the New York Times.

Our traditional emphasis on inspiration promotes a reliance on serendipity, which, in turn, helps dampen the potentially paralyzing awareness of the infinite choices available when you create a fictional world.

The economist Herbert Simon, who reminded us of the futility of trying to consider every possible alternative in a world without end, might have had in mind the budding novelist in Albert Camus’s “Plague,” determined to create a perfect first sentence and therefore unable to advance beyond it.

Computers as Authors? Literary Luddites Unite!

Google, being my friend and constant companion, led me to more information on Herbert Simon, which led in turn to an article from the October 1999 issue of American Psychologist, “If We Are So Rich, Why Aren’t We Happy?” Here is the introduction:

Psychology is the heir to those “sciences of man” envisioned by Enlightenment thinkers such as Gianbattista Vico, David Hume, and the baron de Montesquieu. One of their fundamental conclusions was that the pursuit of happiness constituted the basis of both individual motivation and social well-being. This insight into the human condition was condensed by John Locke (1690/1975) in his famous statement, “That we call Good which is apt to cause or increase pleasure, or diminish pain” (p. 2), whereas evil is the reverse — it is what causes or increases pain and diminishes pleasure.

The generation of utilitarian philosophers that followed Locke, including David Hartley, Joseph Priestley, and Jeremy Benthani, construed a good society as that which allows the greatest happiness for the greatest number (Bentham, 1789/1970, pp. 64 — 65). This focus on pleasure or happiness as the touchstone of private and public life is by no means a brainchild of post-Reformation Europe. It was already present in the writings of the Greeks — for instance, Aristotle noted that although humankind values a great many things, such as health, fame, and possessions, because we think that they will make us happy, we value happiness for itself. Thus, happiness is the only intrinsic goal that people seek for its own sake, the bottom line of all desire. The idea that furthering the pursuit of happiness should be one of the responsibilities of a just government was of course enshrined later in the Declaration of Independence of the United States.

Despite this recognition on the part of the human sciences that happiness is the fundamental goal of life, there has been slow progress in understanding what happiness itself consists of. Perhaps because the heyday of utilitarian philosophy coincided with the start of the enormous forward strides in public health and in the manufacturing and distribution of goods, the majority of those who thought about such things assumed that increases in pleasure and happiness would come from increased affluence, from greater control over the material environment. The great self-confidence of the Western technological nations, and especially of the United States, was in large part because of the belief that materialism — the prolongation of a healthy life, the acquisition of wealth, the ownership of consumer goods — would be the royal road to a happy life.

However, the virtual monopoly of materialism as the dominant ideology has come at the price of a trivialization that has robbed it of much of the truth it once contained. In current use, it amounts to little more than a thoughtless hedonism, a call to do one’s thing regardless of consequences, a belief that whatever feels good at the moment must be worth doing.

This is a far cry from the original view of materialists, such as John Locke, who were aware of the futility of pursuing happiness without qualifications and who advocated the pursuit of happiness through prudence — making sure that people do not mistake imaginary happiness for real happiness.

What does it mean to pursue happiness through prudence? Locke must have derived his inspiration from the Greek philosopher Epicurus, who 2,300 years ago already saw clearly that to enjoy a happy life, one must develop self-discipline. The materialism of Epicurus was solidly based on the ability to defer gratification. He claimed that although all pain was evil, this did not mean one should always avoid pain — for instance, it made sense to put up with pain now if one was sure to avoid thereby a greater pain later. He wrote to his friend Menoeceus

The beginning and the greatest good… is prudence. For this reason prudence is more valuable even than philosophy: from it derive all the other virtues. Prudence teaches us how impossible it is to live pleasantly without living wisely, virtuously, and justly… take thought, then, for these and kindred matters day and night… You shall be disturbed neither waking nor sleeping, and you shall live as a god among men. (Epicurus of Samos, trans. 1998, p. 48)

This is not the image of epicureanism held by most people. The popular view holds that pleasure and material comforts should be grasped wherever they can, and that these alone will improve the quality of one’s life. As the fruits of technology have ripened and the life span has lengthened, the hope that increased material rewards would bring about a better life seemed for a while justified.

Now, at the end of the second millennium, it is becoming clear that the solution is not that simple. Inhabitants of the wealthiest industrialized Western nations are living in a period of unprecedented riches, in conditions that previous generations would have considered luxuriously comfortable, in relative peace and security, and they are living on the average close to twice as long as their great-grandparents did. Yet, despite all these improvements in material conditions, it does not seem that people are so much more satisfied with their lives than they were before.

If We Are So Rich, Why Aren’t We Happy

So I got to thinking about prudence. Here are some definitions:

pru·dence

  1. The state, quality, or fact of being prudent.
  2. Careful management; economy.

Synonyms: prudence, discretion, foresight, forethought, circumspection

These nouns refer to the exercise of good judgment, common sense, and even caution, especially in the conduct of practical matters. Prudence is the most comprehensive: “She had been forced into prudence in her youth, she learned romance as she grew older” (Jane Austen). Discretion suggests wise self-restraint, as in resisting a rash impulse: “The better part of valor is discretion” (Shakespeare). Foresight implies the ability to foresee and make provision for what may happen: She had the foresight to make backups of her computer files. Forethought suggests advance consideration of future eventualities: The empty refrigerator indicated a lack of forethought. Circumspection implies discretion, as out of concern for moral or social repercussions: “The necessity of the times, more than ever, calls for our utmost circumspection” (Samuel Adams).

The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition

pru·dence

: attentiveness to possible hazard : caution or circumspection as to danger or risk

Merriam-Webster Dictionary of Law

prudence

The quality or state of being prudent; wisdom in the way of caution and provision; discretion; carefulness; hence, also, economy; frugality.

Prudence is principally in reference to actions to be done, and due means, order, seasons, and method of doing or not doing. —Sir M. Hale.

Prudence supposes the value of the end to be assumed, and refers only to the adaptation of the means. It is the relation of right means for given ends. —Whewell.

Syn: Wisdom; forecast; providence; considerateness; judiciousness; discretion; caution; circumspection; judgment.

Webster’s Revised Unabridged Dictionary

prudence

  1. discretion in practical affairs [ant: imprudence]
  2. knowing how to avoid embarrassment or distress; “the servants showed great tact and discretion” [syn: discretion, discreetness, circumspection]

WordNet® 2.0

So, I am thinking to myself, “This is not the image of epicureanism that I hold (Q.E.D.). Back to the dictionary I go.

ep·i·cu·re·an

  1. Devoted to the pursuit of sensual pleasure, especially to the enjoyment of good food and comfort.
  2. Suited to the tastes of an epicure: an epicurean repast.
  3. Epicurean Of or relating to Epicurus or Epicureanism.
  4. A devotee to sensuous and luxurious living; an epicure.
  5. Epicurean A follower of Epicurus.

The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition

epicurean

  1. Pertaining to Epicurus, or following his philosophy. “The sect Epicurean.” —Milton.
  2. Given to luxury; adapted to luxurious tastes; luxurious; pertaining to good eating.

    Courses of the most refined and epicurean dishes. —Prescott.

  3. A follower or Epicurus.
  4. One given to epicurean indulgence.

Webster’s Revised Unabridged Dictionary

epicurean

  1. of Epicurus or epicureanism; “Epicurean philosophy” [syn: Epicurean]
  2. devoted to pleasure; “a hedonic thrill”; “lives of unending hedonistic delight”; “epicurean pleasures” [syn: hedonic, hedonistic]
  3. furnishing gratification of the senses; “an epicurean banquet”; “enjoyed a luxurious suite with a crystal chandelier and thick oriental rugs”; “Lucullus spent the remainder of his days in voluptuous magnificence”; “a chinchilla robe of sybaritic lavishness” [syn: luxurious, sybaritic, voluptuary, voluptuous] n : a person devoted to refined sensuous enjoyment (especially good food and drink) [syn: epicure, gourmet, gastronome, bon vivant, foodie]

WordNet ® 2.0

That last one resonates a little better with my understanding of epicureanism: gluttonous, hedonistic foodies. Ah, yes, the tie-in with food!

So, how can I consummate the congnitive dissonance created by these competing concepts? Look at it this way. Do you remember the story of the ant and the grasshopper? The ant toils all Summer long, storing away food for the Winter. The grasshopper plays all Summer and suffers as Winter approaches. The ant is being prudent having foresight to the risk of not having adequate stores through the Winter. At the same time, once Winter arrives and the grasshopper comes to the ant’s door, the ant seems to live in epicurean luxury, with abundant supplies and unwilling to show charity. Imagine the headlines: “Impoverished Grasshopper Dies on Doorstep of Epicurean Ant.”

So…

Gretchen and I made Apple Butter the other day. I know it sounds decadent, but we were really just trying to preserve some apples that were about to go bad. “Waste-not, Want-not.”

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Turning Points

While I am getting back in the groove, here is a little “true life adventure” that happened to me back in 1987, for you reading pleasure…

It was about two in the morning. I was driving south on 24th Street NW towards the Lincoln Memorial. It was a beautiful evening and I had the windows up but the sun roof open and I was listening to my favorite mix tape on the stereo. I had been on a date with my then-girlfriend. We ended up at her apartment in Georgetown and I was going back home to my apartment in Alexandria. I was feeling… well… introspective.

I remember thinking to myself, “What are you doing going home at two in the morning?” It wasn’t that we were having any particular problems in our relationship. It was just that there wasn’t anything special about it. So much so, that I had decided to get up and go home at two in the morning rather than stay the night. I remember trying to decide whether I should feel good about taking control of my life by making this particular statement or whether I should feel angry that she hadn’t objected.

I pulled up to the traffic light at Constitution Avenue. The cars in the lanes of traffic to my right blocked my view to the West. I made eye contact with the driver of the taxi next to me and then turned my gaze back to the world in front of me. I could see the Lincoln Memorial. The orange glow of the street lights gave everything a surreal appearance. I looked up and saw that the traffic signal had changed to green and I accelerated into the intersection, and then… time stopped.

I find that driving is very conducive to thinking. I don’t know whether it is because of the monotony of sound as the pavement rolls under the wheels, or the solitude, or… The point is that sometimes I get lost in thought and realize that miles have gone by that I have no memory of. Almost as if I had been driving on automatic pilot. This was one of those times.

I wasn’t quite sure where I was but I did know that the tape had stopped. I tried to reverse it, start it over, eject it… nothing worked. Depressing. My tape player seemed to be broken… and it had eaten one of my favorite tapes! In my depression I looked up and noticed the man staring in the window.

I reached for the controls to activate the electric motor that raised and lowered the driver’s window. I pressed the “Down” button… and nothing happened. What was going on here? Had my car had some kind of massive electrical system failure? I pulled the lever to open the door and looked at the man. “Are you alright?” he asked.

Who was this man and what did he really want? I said, “I’m fine” and closed the door. I returned to the puzzle of my cars troubles. I noticed that the engine was no longer running. I turned the key and predictably nothing happened. I sighed. This wasn’t getting me anywhere. I took the keys from the ignition, opened the door, and got out. The man from the window came back up to me and said, “Didn’t you see him coming?”

I had no idea what he was talking about, so I asked, “Do I know you?” He said, “I was driving the cab in the lane next to you. Didn’t you see him coming? He ran the red light.”

Sure enough, he did look familiar and there was the cab idling at the curb. “What are you talking about?”

“You must have spun around three times before you stopped. I’m amazed you survived.”

I finally paused long enough to wonder where I was and take in the scene. I was standing on the southeast corner of 24th Street NW and Pennsylvania Avenue. My car was pointing North and it was about ten yards off the street into the grass. The taxi driver had apparently gone down to the Lincoln Memorial to turn around as he was also pointing North, but at least his vehicle was on the street itself.

I needed to sit down and figure out what had happened. I walked around to the trunk of my car and hopped up onto it. The taxi driver joined me. He was rambling on about this mysterious guy who had run the light. I needed to think, to clear my head. I quickly shut him out.

Others came by. Soon there was a small circle of people standing around the trunk of my car, the taxi driver entertaining them all with his story of the guy who had run the light and how I had spun around three times before I stopped. I had no idea what he was talking about, but the crowd was enthralled.

A police car pulled up behind the taxi and an officer got out and started to walk over to us. I turned to the taxi driver and said, “You’re probably going to have to move your car.” The officer said, “Did anybody survive?”

Why wouldn’t anybody start making sense?

Nobody answered.

The officer pressed on. “Did anybody see the driver of this car?”

“This is my car, officer,” I said.

“Are you alright? Do you want to go to the hospital?”

What was this sudden interest everyone was taking in my health? I replied that I was fine. “Alright then, but I still need to ask you some questions for my report. Could you step over here a minute?”

I stepped away from the social circle that had formed around the back of my car and moved a few feet closer to the street with the officer.

“So… Tell me how this happened,” he said, holding a clipboard of report forms in one hand and gesturing towards my car with his pen in the other. Instinctively, my gaze followed his lead and landed on my car. For the first time I saw it. Everything from the firewall forwards was crushed. That would explain why the tape player stopped — no battery — and why the engine wouldn’t start — no engine. The front bumper, I could see, was in the middle of the intersection. What in the world was going on here? I said, “I really have no idea, officer.”

The taxi driver had been listening and came over. Once again he started into his story. For the first time it started to make sense…

The next day I went to the impound yard to survey the damage.

The part that didn't get hit.

You can see how, while sitting on the trunk, I would have thought that everything was fine…

Just to show it was possible to survive.

…and you can see how it was possible to survive…

Name that car!

…but the front end is barely recognizable.

The rear wheel snapped off when it hit the opposite curb.

Apparently I did spin around at least half way — the car was facing the opposite direction, after all — and when the rear end of the car hit the curb, it was going sideways fast enough to snap off the wheel on that side.

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Notice

I am going to be taking a little break from this project, but I’ll be back. Don’t worry.

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Apple Crate

This is an applecrate. That is, that is the name I have given to the CSS class that creates this visual effect. I stole it from <a href="http://www.apple.com/" title="Apple">Apple</a>. They call it a box, but I already have a CSS class called a box, so I called it a crate. In honor of its origins&hellip; an applecrate. Get it? <img src="http://www.personal.psu.edu/staff/m/h/mhl100/images/laugh.png" height="18" width="18" alt=":-D" />
Ingredients
  • 1½ pounds Boiling Potatoes, cooked
  • 1 medium-size Onion, sliced thin
  • 6 strips Bacon, chopped fine
  • ⅓ cup Vinegar
  • ½ cup Water
  • 2 teaspoons All-Purpose Flour
  • 3 teaspoons Sugar
  • 1½ teaspoons Salt
  • ¼ teaspoon Pepper
  • ½ cup Chopped Parsley