People call me a chef (even says so here). I’m not a chef. Ted Allen is not a chef (as if his round wood spoons didn’t say as much). Rachael Ray is not a chef. None of us ever said we were. (I have on occasion, claimed to be, but that was just to piss off Michael Symon, who is a chef, or was—now he’s a TV cook, entertainer, and successful restaurateur. I cooked at Sans Souci, a Marriot-owned restaurant, ages ago, but I wouldn’t last an hour on the line today.) Terms matter. I say this because today’s guest poster, Patricia Tracey, is and remains solely a chef. Not a celeb chef like Symon or Bobby Flay (both of whom are superlative cooks, btw, another and more meaningful term). She’s a cook’s cook, a woman Read On »

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The television personality and cookbook author Ted Allen stirred up a shit storm this week by calling me out on my hatred of the round wooden spoon, which he apparently has the hots for. He happened to mention our exchange at a City Harvest event to Eric Ripert, executive chef of Le Bernardin, one of the finest restaurants in the country, with whom I’ve worked closely, who added a little more caca to the pot by tweeting “Crème anglaise? Since the days of Escoffier, stir with a wood spoon, Ruhlman.” He then phoned me to further faire caca into my cell phone until he conceded that it was the wood, not a round wood spoon, then was evasive, said a client had just arrived. But he handed the phone to his British-born, French-trained pastry chef, Laurie Read On »

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Yet again finishing up a manuscript with mayonnaise on my mind, and I always think of Donna’s lovely images, captured when spring light was coming through our kitchen window. I could look at these forever (and now, as I couldn’t five years ago, I can post them to Twitter). Thanks, Donna! And remember, the emulsion is less about the yolk than about the liquid. Originally posted on May 21, 2008 Finishing up the revisions of a manuscript and going over some fat-based sauces has returned me to the mayonnaise. Like the popover, it’s the story of a great transformation. Yolk, lemon juice, salt, and oil. There simply isn’t anything like it when you make it yourself—you can’t buy this stuff. But I’ll bet you have everything you need to make it right now. I’ll include a Read On »

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How to execute the perfect Nicoise salad from fish to vegetable to dressing, via Guardian UK.

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  There’s a visceral pleasure to eating dangerous or forbidden food. Wild fugu, for instance. Wild mushrooms. Raw meat. Even oysters, still virtually alive. Why on earth would anyone try to eat something that stings? And believe me, these are prickly motherfuckers. Why? Because it’s fun. But there’s more to them than that. And the devoted baker and wonderful soul who runs Two Sisters Bakery in Homer, Alaska, describes why this “pesky, painful weed” is great to eat. Thanks for this valuable guest post, Carri! — Michael by Carri Thurman Nettles, the wild edible and pesky, painful weed that has been a staple of traditionalists and confounding gardeners since the beginning of time, are finally getting their spot on the culinary stage. Nettles are replacing kale as the superfood of the moment, boasting the highest levels Read On »

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