Off to make potato soup. I may be back — then, I may not.
Archive for December, 2006Mahndisa has posted a recipe that sounds phenomenal, Mahndisa’s Marvelous Garlic & Basil Turkey. But I’m going to take issue with her about herbs. She says:
It depends on the herb. Fresh basil is lovely stuff, but fresh and dried basil are two entirely different things, and one cannot be substituted for the other without completely changing the result. For some things I prefer fresh basil; for others, dried basil. On rosemary, I concur. Fresh only. Dried rosemary is pointless. Oregano, however, is usually better dried, since fresh oregano is far milder. The exception to this is greek oregano, which is quite hot and spicy right off the plant. But dried greek oregano is even spicier. And I never use fresh sage, for similar reasons: Dried sage has a much more concentrated flavor. But because sage is one of those seasonal herbs, you do have to be careful of old sage. (I also recommend that you not make the same mistake I did, and grow sage. It will take over your garden, and you’ll end up with far more than twenty families could ever use. I was begging people to take bags of sage off my hands — much like people do every year when they grow zucchinis.) Mint? I rarely use it, but I did used to grow it just so I could mow over it. Try it sometime. But beware, because mint will take over your garden too. And speaking of fresh rosemary, I grew rosemary every year back in Indiana, with less than optimal results. It grew, though slowly, but every time I tried to pot it and bring it in for the winter, it got very sad and I ended up clipping and drying it all. Here, where it never rains, you’d think rosemary would do even worse, but I planted a small plant this spring, and it’s a two-foot high bush now, spreading out in every which direction — and despite the cold, it’s going full guns. Go figure. Æblekage (Danish Apple Cake) Well, not really a cake. More similar to an apple crisp, but not. But excellent stuff. 3 lb apples - not too sweet Preheat oven to 350. Grease an ovenproof dish and line with a layer of breadcrumbs. Dot with lumps of butter, sprinkle with sugar to taste and cover with a thick layer of peeled and thinly sliced apples. Repeat the procedure till all is used up. Finish with a layer of breadcrumbs. Press it all well together and dot with butter and bake for about 25-30 minutes. The apples must be well cooked. Cool the apple cake and turn it out of the form. When the cake is cold, decorate with whipped cream. You may also serve the cake lukewarm. Kransekage (Almond Rings): Mmmmmm … Dough: 18 oz. (500 grams) almond paste Frosting: Preheat oven to 300. Grease a baking sheet extra well with softened butter, and dust with finely ground bread crumbs. Mix almond paste and powdered sugar. Add egg whites and mix well. Place bowl in hot water and knead dough until it is lukewarm. Turn out on board sprinkled with 1/4 cup powdered sugar. Let rest 10 minutes. Knead 2 to 3 minutes, dusting your hands and the counter with the confectioners sugar instead of flour. Divide the dough into 18 pieces and roll each into a ball, slanting the palm of your hand downward toward the edge so that it “peaks” up in the center, kind of like a small hat. Bake the rings for 20 minutes, then cool on tray — do not remove the rings from the tray until cool. Mix the frosting ingredients and drizzle on top of each ring, placing rings on top of one another. These are served at Danish weddings. Vanillekranse (Vanilla Wreaths) If you have a cookie press, press these out into wreaths. If you don’t, roll out the dough and cut into cookies. 1 1/2 c. butter Preheat the oven to 325. Cream butter and sugar. Add the rest of the ingredients. Mix until dough is smooth. Put dough in cookie press and press out onto greased cookie sheet (or roll and cut). Bake until slightly brown. Makes approximately 150. Pebernødder (Pfeffernüsse) 1 c. butter Preheat oven to 300. Work all ingredients together and roll in tiny balls about the size of a nickel. Put on cookie sheet. Bake 9-10 minutes. Quantity depends on size of the nuts. If you prefer these iced as the Germans do them, use the frosting in the recipe above, and dip these into the frosting when cool.
What, no tears? No sadness? I wonder why that is, since we’re all sobbing for poor, oppressed, misunderstood, abused as a child, neglected, unappreciated, disenfranchised, disempowered, marginalized, oppressed, dead Saddam?
Do not read while eating, drinking, or while food or drink is within reach! I believe this is what is known as a thorough fisking, here, Brit-style (probably not work- or child-safe).
From one of the KosKidz:
That’s “hanged,” you illiterate moron. Nobody “hung” Hussein, unless it was from a hook in the wall.
Oh no! I’m so very sorry that executing a mass-murdering tyrant makes you sad! You poor thing!
He was misunderstood! His daddy didn’t hug him enough! Poor, poor, misunderstood, marginalized, disenfranchised, disempowered, oppressed, dead Saddam Hussein! Oh, the humanity!
And he never went to a therapist! I’m going to cry now! Poor Saddam!
We should have given Saddam lollipops and had a big group hug, to break the cycle of violence! If Saddam had only been led through a rousing chorus of kumbayah and let liberals love him, he would have been so much happier! Oh Saddam! Poor thing!
I think he’s being far too hard on our sensitive leftist. After all, Bush is so much more evil than poor, misunderstood Saddam! Unashamedly linked to Basil’s Blog. I began my restaurant career at a very elegant French bistro in downtown Louisville, L’Artiste, in the early 80s. When I was hired, they first trained me as a pastry chef. About the French: Love the food, hate the frogs. I’m a Francophobe from long, long before it became fashionable, from even before I started working for them (and working for the French will make you hate them if anything will). When Carter was President, I was fond of saying that the neutron bomb was made for France (the neutron bomb left buildings intact, you see). Food aside, French pastry is the most overrated food item on the planet. First, the frogs didn’t know anything about making pastry until Marie Antoinette brought her Austrian chefs with her to France — in fact, the Austrians taught the whole continent of Europe to make pastry. But the frogs learned the least, no doubt due to French laziness. If you go into a pâtisserie, the shelves will be full of variations on three, and only three, themes: génoises filled with various items (and the frogs learned to make génoise from the Italians — hence the name); endless variations on pâte à choux filled with crème pâtisserie or crème au beurre (éclairs, réligieuses, etc.) which all taste the same, but look different; and endless variations of pâte feuilletée (puff pastry), again filled with crème pâtisserie or crème au beurre (napoleons). The frogs have no imagination when it comes to pastry; they have three little tricks, which they do over and over again, changing the shape and hoping that fools you into being impressed with their artistry. Oh, four tricks. I forgot the boring French tarts. The Danes, on the other hand, learned more from the Austrian chefs. What we call Danish pastry, the Danes call Viennese pastry (wienerbrød). The Danes produce a far larger variety of pastries than do the frogs, though it is less sweet than most Americans are used to. But even the Danes cannot compare to the Austrians (and Hungarians) for great pastries — who in turn learned much of what they knew from the Turks. It’s no accident that you see phyllo dough used so frequently in Austrian pastries, you know. The king of pastry, however, is pâte feuilletée, or puff pastry. The frozen pastry is passable, but it doesn’t have that buttery flavor homemade does — and it really isn’t that hard to make. I always make my own. I’ve included a recipe for apple strudel, though you can do almost anything with puff pastry. If you’re throwing a party, roll it out, cut it into squares, fill it (mix diced cooked chicken with aïoli makes a great appetizer), fold them over and bake them. Or make shells by rolling out the dough, cutting out circles with a sharp knife, then cutting out the centers of half the circles, forming rings. Brush the circles with water, then place a ring on top of each and bake them. The rings will puff up into walls, and you can fill them with anything you like. And here’s the promised recipes: Pâte Feuilletée (Puff Pastry) — makes 2 lbs. 12 oz. Puff pastry contains no yeast. Butter is encased in the dough, and then it is rolled and folded repeatedly, forming many layers of butter in between dough. As it bakes, the butter melts and evaporates, pushing up the dough. If you make this correctly, the pastry will rise quite high. Butter block Dough Trick number one is to work the butter and flour together to the right consistency: Too warm, and it will not layer well, and too cold, and it will break through the pastry. Let the butter sit out to soften a bit and work the flour in with a pastry knife. Shape into a 6-inch square, and refrigerate. Now make the dough. Sift the flours together, then cut the butter into the flour (not the butter block!) until it resembles coarse meal. Make a well in the center, add the salt and most of the cold water. Mix the flour into the water using your fingers. Add more water if you need to to make a dough that holds together, but is still rough and sticky. Form the dough into a ball, handling it as little as possible. Flatten the ball, cut a deep cross from side to side in the top, cover, and let rest in the refrigerator for 30 minutes. Take the butter block out of the refrigerator 20 minutes before you do the next step. Now for the fun part. Open the ball of dough into a square by pulling open the cross you cut in the top then roll it until it is slightly larger than the butter block. Place the butter block, which should be firm, but not rock hard, diagonally on top of the dough (corner to side). Pick up the corners of the dough and fold them over the butter block, pinching the dough together to seal the butter inside the dough. You are now going to do FIVE single turns. Each time you make a turn, you increase the number of butter-dough layers. If you do this too much, the layers will be too thin to puff up. If you don’t do it enough, the layers will be too thick. FIVE turns, and ONLY FIVE turns. Also, if you don’t refrigerate the dough between turns, the butter will get too warm and instead of remaining in its own layer will mix into the dough. If it’s too cold, it will tear through the dough. So follow the instructions. At L’Artiste, we used a French pin especially designed for puff pastry, which I have never seen here. It had grooves cut along the length all the way around, and the grooves helped avoid squishing the butter all the way to the ends. When you roll for the turns, first gently press the pin along the length, creating little depressions. This will help keep you from rolling the butter to the ends of the dough (that, and refrigerating it sufficiently between turns). Before you start, read the instructions through to the end. Turns Roll into a rectangle 15×9 inches. Fold the left third over the center, then fold the right third over the center, forming a rectangle, and brushing off any excess flour from the dough as you fold. Refrigerate for 20 minutes. Roll into a rectangle 15×9 inches and again, fold into thirds and refrigerate 20 minutes. Do this FIVE (and ONLY five) times, and again refrigerate for 20-30 minutes before you roll it out and use it. Apfelstrudel (Apple Strudel) This is the German version, made with puff pastry. The Austrians (and Hungarians) make it with phyllo dough, though their dough is not as brittle as the Greek or Turkish version. 1/2 recipe puff pastry (above) Preheat oven to 375. Sautée the bread crumbs in 1/4 c. of the butter over medium heat until golden brown. Reserve the crumbs and butter separately. Mix the apples, sugar, raisins, nuts, cinnamon, and about half the bread crumbs. Cut the firm butter into small chunks and toss with the filling. Add the remaining melted butter to the reserved, melted butter. Roll the pastry into a rectangle about 15×12 inches. Brush the pastry generously with the butter, then pile the filling on the nearer half. Fold the pastry over the filling, press the edges together firmly, then brush the top with the remaining butter. Place on an ungreased pan, and bake until golden brown and puffed up (check at 30 minutes, though it will probably take 35 to 40 minutes). Serve warm, with plenty of whipped cream. While looking through boxes, I found my Anglo-Saxon dictionary. I haven’t seen that in years. Unfortunately, my Old Norse dictionary was not in the same box. Dinner tonight: Pork chops and bratkartoffeln (German Fries).
See Radio Equalizer — follow the links and also scroll down and read the wacked out comments.
Gateway Pundit has a round-up of American liberals mourning their new hero, Saddam Hussein (sorry, I won’t link to the nonsense; you’ll have to go to Gateway Pundit for that).
I don’t call the lack of any moral compass sick. To see the liberals’ utter lack of any moral compass, Tennessee Gorilla Womyn (or should that be Womin, or Womon?), refers to the execution of Saddam Hussein as a “lynching.” No morals, no ethics, no principles. Hat tip: Don Surber
There’s only one thing the French do better than anyone else (other than surrender and support mass-murdering tyrants). No, not wine. No, not cheese. Bread. The paradox here is that if you examine French breads, you notice that they contradict the preference for ridiculously elaborate foods the French usually display. The great French breads are also the simplest breads made. Water, flour, yeast, and salt. But before I get into bread, let’s talk flour. The current rage is unbleached flour, and while there’s nothing wrong with it at all (though its advantages are dubious), bleached v. unbleached isn’t the major consideration when it comes to baking. Gluten content is. Baked goods fall into three general categories: Cakes, breads, and pastries. Cakes are leavened with eggs, baking powder, baking soda or a combination, contain a high liquid content, and are meant to have a fine, delicate crumb (technically, savarins are breads, not cakes). Breads are usually leavened with yeast (quick breads are not), contain a low liquid content, and are meant to have a chewy, substantial texture. Pastries, like breads, are usually leavened with yeast, but do not rise as high, and are meant to have a flaky or crumbly texture. The key to these different textures is gluten, the protein in flour (whole wheat flour has very little gluten, which is why most whole wheat breads contain a substantial amount of white flour). As you work gluten, it forms strands of protein much like a web. The web catches the carbon dioxide produced by the yeast and allows the bread to rise. Gluten is “tough” so it gives a chewy texture to the final product. Bread flour is high in gluten content. At the other end of the spectrum is cake flour, which is very low in gluten content. In between the two is all-purpose flour. Pastry flour has more gluten than cake flour, but less than all-purpose flour. If you can’t find it in your store, mix cake and all-purpose flours in equal proportions. Here are two recipes. The first is Pain Ordinaire Carême, the ultimate French bread (flour, water, yeast, and salt), wonderfully chewy and delicious. The second, brioche is for those who prefer rich, buttery bread. Both recipes are from Bernard Clayton’s Complete Book of Breads — the definitive text on making bread. Click on the image below to buy it from Amazon. If you make bread, you must have this book.
Pain Ordinaire Carême 6 c. bread flour 1 baking sheet, greased and sprinkled with cornmeal, or 4 baguette pans, greased Measure 3 or 4 cups of the flour into a mixing bowl and add the yeast and hot water. Mix for 10 minutes. Diussolve the salt in the water and add to the batter. Mix for 30 seconds or more. Switch the paddle for the dough hook, and add flour 1/4 c. at a time until the dough forms a rough ball and cleans the sides of the bowl. Knead for 10 minutes. You can do this by hand, of course. Put the dough in a large greased bowl, cover with plastic wrap, and let rise at room temperature for 2 hours until tripled in volume. Turn the dough out and knead it about 3 minutes, then return to the bowl, cover with plastic wrap, and let rise again at room temperature until tripled in volume, about 1 1/2 hours. Turn out, divide into pieces, and let rest about five minutes before shaping into loaves. For boules or round loaves, shape into balls, and place into napkin lined baskets. For baguettes, roll each piece 22 inches long and about 3-4 inches in diameter. Cover loaves with a cloth, and leave at room temperature to rise until loaves have doubled, about an hour. Meanwhile, preheat the oven to 450, and put a baking pan in the bottom of the oven. Five minutes before putting the loaves in, pour 1 c. boiling water into the pan and close the oven door immediately to create steam. Make cuts in the tops of the loaves with a box cutter, place loaves in the middle shelf of the oven, and bake until golden brown, 25 to 30 minutes. Check by turning out a loaf and thumping it on the bottom, to see that it sounds hollow. Brioche If you prefer rich, buttery bread, France makes the best of these too, the brioche. Starter: 1 package dry yeast Dough: 4 c. all-purpose flour Make the starter. In a small bowl, dissolve the yeast in warm milk. Stir in the flour to make a shaggy mass of dough, and blend for 3 minutes. Cover with plastic wrap and leave at room temperature for at least 2 hours. When the starter has sat for 2 hours, make the dough. In a large mixing bowl, measure 2 c. of the flour and make a well to receive 4 of the 6 eggs. Break in one egg at a time, stirring with a wooden spoon or paddle to pull in flour from the sides. Add the warm water, sugar, and salt, and blend to make a thick batter. On the counter, press and work the butter with a dough scraper or spatula to make it pliable and soft. Blend the butter into the batter. Add the remaining 2 eggs, and beat into the dough. Stir in flour, 1/2 cup at a time, until it is a soft elastic ball and pulls away from the sides of the bowl. Be careful not to add too much flour and make a hard ball of dough! Place the dough on the counter, press it into an oval, and place the starter on top of the dough. Fold the mass in half, and knead until the dough and starter are completely mixed, about 10 minutes. The dough will be soft and tacky, but resist the urge to add lots of flour; you will refrigerate it, and it will become easier to handle. Place the dough in a greased bowl, cover with plastic wrap, and let rise at room temperature until doubled, about 2 hours. Remove the plastic wrap, punch down the dough, and turn it over. Return the plastic wrap and put the bowl in the refrigerator to chill for at least 2 hours. Make the Nanterre 1 egg, beaten with 1 T. cream Divide the dough first in half, then put half back in the refrigerator while you work with the first. Divide into 8 pieces, and roll each into a ball about 2-2 1/2 inches in diameter. Place the balls into the bottom of one of the loaf pans. Repeat with the other half of the dough and the other loaf pan. Cover the pans with a cloth and let rise at room temperature until doubled, about 2 1/2 hours. Preheat the oven to 375. Brush the tops of the loaves with the eggwash, place on the middle shelf of the oven, and bake until the loaves are golden brown, about 35 minutes. Test with a toothpick or skewer, instead of turning out loaves and thumping them. Cool on a rack for thirty minutes, then remove from pans. If you have brioche pans, you can make the classic brioche à tête. Divide the dough into balls about two-thirds the volume of the pans you have (they come in different sizes, so you’ll have to figure this out on your own). Take each ball of dough, place your finger close to one end, and press down with your finger as you roll to create a little “extention” on the end. Turn the ball up on the thick end with the “extension” on top, place in one of the greased brioche pans, and using your fingers, push the “extension” down onto the top of the ball of dough. Bake as above.
From Alpha Patriot:
Lots more links and info at Hot Air, including the execution video. Note that the subject line of this odd spam message was, “Just save a pot of money on the medicines you buy.” Knowing that makes this even weirder:
Uh, sure. A while back, I got into a disagreement in the comments thread on an education blog — I believe it was D-Ed Reckoning, but I’m not sure. It was a brief disagreement, since I didn’t wish to continue the discussion, and the other commenter was a bit heated, about one of those myths that, well, frankly, being a linguist, one forgets exists. But this isn’t a linguistics lesson; it’s a history lesson, specifically, the history of literacy in England. The commenter stated quite vigorously that English spelling was the result of a system of rules. Now, I realize we all learned those little ditties in school, you know, the ones that seem to have as many exceptions as not, but that doesn’t make them real in any sense of the word. Perhaps it was England’s history of being conquered by different groups speaking different languages — nearly all of them Vikings, by the way — culminating in Norman rule, which produced (eventually) a language very different from the one either the Anglo-Saxons or the Normans had spoken in 1066. Perhaps it was the drive for an English translation of the Bible. Perhaps it was a rapidly growing nationalism that was almost unprecedented in Europe, gelling around a need for a national language. Or perhaps it was a combination of all. The reason is pure speculation, but whatever it was, England embraced the printing press in the early 16th century, and did so with far more enthusiasm than did the continental European kingdoms. Before the printing press, the few manuscripts in English (Latin was the language of scholarship at the time) were spelled as they were pronounced. There was no standardized spelling for English, and with the wide dialectical variation in England (England still has a far wider variation of dialects than does the United States), this meant that different authors spelled the same words very differently. The adoption of the printing press changed that, but only gradually. Typesetters still spelled words the way they pronounced them, and manuscripts varied widely not only in the words they used for the same things, but the spellings for the same words. Even as late as the printing of the King James Version in 1611, English still had no nationally agreed-upon spelling system (note the spelling differences on nearly any page of an original copy with one printed today). The situation was made even worse with the adoption of Latinate spelling conventions, such as the free variation of “u” and “v” or “i” and “j” or “i” and “y” or “c” and “k,” and then there was the question of how to spell sounds that weren’t in Latin, such as the “th” sounds (this and three). At first, runes were adopted so we used the eth and thorn, but due to lack of availability, printers dropped them one at a time: First, they dropped the eth and used the thorn for both sounds, and then they dropped the thorn. Then there was the problem introduced by printers who freely used one letter for another. You see “ye olde” on signs not because “the” was ever “ye,” but because the “y” looked like a thorn and was used in its place. English spelling was a mess. English speakers were as conservative then about spelling as we are now. It took many years and the publication of several dictionaries before a spelling standard existed. English spelling has nothing to do with rules; it has everything to do with history and compromise. What we know today as standardized English spelling was not the phonetic spelling of just one English dialect, but a mixture of several. English spelling, therefore, is the result of not only the way English was pronounced six hundred years ago, but the way it was pronounced in different dialects six hundred years ago. This is the basic difference between English spelling and the spelling of most European languages, which are spelled phonetically because the printing press was adopted less enthusiastically, and the problem of dialectical differences did not arise (this is a bit simplistic, and for example ignores the influence Martin Luther had on German spelling and literature and the rise of High German as the prestige dialect, but you get the idea). There is nothing rule-governed about English spelling. All those ditties we learn were created after the fact as mnemonic devices. They are not rules, in any sense of the word, and this is exactly why they have so many exceptions. As a footnote, I was a Germanicist, and one of the languages I studied was Danish. I have always been a good speller and had been somewhat lacking in sympathy for those who weren’t good spellers — until I studied Danish. For whatever reason, the relationship between pronunciation and spelling in Danish is about as tenuous as it is in English, and I gained a great deal of sympathy for poor spellers as a result. Just sayin. Whenever I link to another one of my posts, it sends a pingback, of course. So why does wordpress put my pingbacks and comments in the moderation queue, for me to moderate? And am I the only person who seems to be winning at least ten lotteries (I never entered) a day? Only government — here, the educracy — can take an excellent idea and pervert it with a political agenda into something that is no longer recongizable. When I was a PhD student, I saw this process in action, as ultra-sincere sociolinguists changed bilingual education into a tool for furthering their political agenda. Bilingual education Contrary to popular (though understandable) belief, bilingual education was a superb idea when it first came out. The reasoning went something like this:
So the basic idea behind bilingual education was to mainstream non-English speaking students by teaching them English, but doing so without holding them back in content courses. But by the 80s when I was a grad student, this was under attack by sociolinguists (and then others took up the standard). The rallying cry of the ultra-PC sociolinguists was “we all have a right to our native language!” As liberals always do, they invoked ghosts from the past as fuel for their scare tactics: 19th and early 20th century BIA policies of forbidding Indians from using their native language, the slaughter of the Aleuts by the Russians (what this had to do with bilingual education or language, I never could ascertain — nor would any of these moonbats explain it), and other such irrelevant nonsense. Of course, all of this was a straw man, since nobody was suggesting forbidding anyone from using any language, much less slaughtering anyone, but the battle was on. The common-sense-impaired won with their cries of “cultural imperialism! genocide!” and bilingual education became not a tool for mainstreaming non-English speaking students, but a tool for furthering their linguistic alienation from the rest of the United States. Worse, the “you have a right to your own language” message was sent loud and clear to students, many of whom (to judge by California’s dismal ESL success record in the public schools) have swallowed it, and believe they should not speak English, or feel no pressing need to learn English. The result, of course, is that they’re being royally screwed by the hand-wringing, leftist, “social justice” promoting, educrats — but it makes the educrats feel good about themselves, so who cares? Thus, the moonbatty leftist educracy undermined the education of linguistic minorities. When “social justice” becomes the driving force, education loses.
from one of Tim Blair’s commenters:
Food for thought, that.
The carcass is in the stockpot on the stove now. One advantage of making your own stock: It do make the whole house smell wonderful.
Hat tip to Clark Baker for this article that looks at where NEA money goes. Let’s look at a partial list of where the largest teachers union in the nation spends its money, and see how concerned about education they are, shall we?
Moratorium on capital punishment. Education? Nope. Verifiable nuclear freeze. Education? Nope. Legislation to expand Native Hawaiian land ownership (by stealing land from others). Education? Nope. Reparations for slavery. Education? Nope. Socialist medicine. Education? Nope. Solving the problem of toxic-waste dumping. Education? Well maybe, if they’re thinking of New York City. So I’ll give them that one. Want to see some more?
See a pattern here? Is it coincidence that the NEA throws money at candidates and parties who support throwing more money at schools without any accountability?
Mr. Crittenden has outdone himself.
Read it. If it doesn’t make your eyes wet, you’re not human.
Technorati: open threads
Comment or trackback, as long as you link to here. I give a standing ovation to Michael Medved for going off on the paranoid “North American Union” conspiracy moonbats, and pulling no punches.
Cruise over to the comment thread about this on Hot Air, and as moonbats always do — as unhinged as any Kosbat — they’re making Medved’s point:
Ulterior motives! Oh no! Or:
You see how this works, don’t you? If you’re not frothing at the mouth over this latest conspiracy, you’re an “open borders character,” and you advocate the overthrow of the US by the corrupt brown hordes from Mexico! See, here’s another one:
“Open borders” is the chic new castigating label. All I have to do to discount you, you see, is call you an “open borders advocate,” and poof! you’re discredited. This is what’s passing for intelligence among the paleo fanclub. And speaking of paleocons, this could have come straight from Good Ol’ “I don’t hate Joooz” Pat Buchanan:
Somebody put prozac in the water. The African Queen is on TCM. Two stellar performances.
that the president of the teachers union doesn’t know what 1/3 + 1/4 is? (Hat tip to NYC Educator). I saw this after getting back from Office Depot — where they now sell “tip cheat sheets” by the cash registers, for idiots who can’t calculate a 15% tip. What was that about my sample size, again? Technorati: open threads
Comment or trackback, as long as you link to here. The Carnival of Education is posted at Darren’s!
Throwing away bacon fat is heresy! Anytime bacon was cooked at my parents’ and grandparents’ homes, the fat went into a coffee cup that sat in the refrigerator so it was always there to be used. Want to make spätzle? See here. Kartoffelsuppe (Potato Soup) 2 T. butter First, fry the bacon. Reserving the drippings, drain bacon slices on paper towels, and crumble. Reserve the bacon for garnish, with the chives. Add the butter to the bacon drippings, and over medium heat, cook the onions, herbs, and nutmeg until well mixed. Cover, turn heat down to low, and cook slowly about fifteen minutes, until the onions are very soft. Add the potatoes and stock. Simmer 45 minutes, until the potatoes are falling apart. Purée the soup in batches, return to the pan and season to taste with salt and white pepper. Garnish with snipped chives and crumbled bacon. Brathühn I (Roast Chicken) You may wonder — for both these recipes — what the point of the cabbage and onion bed for the chicken is. As the chicken roasts, its juices drip down into the bed, and the cabbage is arguably the best part. Really. Two recipes, because frankly, I can’t decide which I love more. 1 medium onion, sliced Preheat oven to 375. Heat oil in a large frying pan over medium high heat. Add onion, and cook for 2 minutes until soft. Add cabbage, apples, spices, salt and pepper. Add cider and vinegar. Cook for 5 minutes. Spoon half of cabbage mixture in a baking dish, and spoon the rest into the cavity of the bird. Place chicken on cabbage and roast until thickest part of the breast registers 160. Brathühn II (Roast Chicken) 6 slices bacon Preheat oven to 375. Fry bacon, drain and crumble. In bacon drippings over medium high heat, cook onion until soft. Add cabbage, salt and pepper, and Riesling. Cook for 5 minutes, and spoon into a baking dish. Cut butter into cubes, and stuff chicken with butter and rosemary. Place on cabbage and roast until the thickest part of the breast registers 160. Wiener Schnitzel The Austrian classic, now eaten throughout Germany. Quick and simple, it will always get snarfed down. You can use pork cutlets instead of veal — but if you do, it’s Schweine Schnitzel. 4 veal cutlets Pound the veal cutlets to about an eighth of an inch, then salt them. Dip the cutlets first in flour, then in the beaten egg, then in the breadcrumbs. Heat about a quarter inch of oil in a heavy pan to about 375. Fry the cutlets one at a time, until golden then flip it and fry on the second side until golden (do not turn more than once). Serve with a slice of lemon. Wurst mit Sauerkraut (Sausages with Sauerkraut) This is classic German home cooking. Serve the wursts on top of the kraut on a platter with some good, hot mustard on the side 8 German sausages (bratwurst, mettwurst, weisswurst, blutwurst, bockwurst, etc.) Rinse the kraut (I felt I needed to bold that because for some reason, people need to be told that kraut isn’t supposed to make your lips pucker). Fry the bacon in a large pan. Remove the bacon and drain it, leaving the drippings in the pan. Over medium heat, cook the onion in the bacon drippings until soft. Core and shred the apple and add the shredded apple to the pan, then add the rinsed kraut. Nestle the sausages in the kraut, then add the caraway, cider and stock. Crumble the bacon and add it. Bring to a boil, turn the heat down low, and simmer for an hour, uncovered, turning the sausages from time to time, until the liquid is nearly evaporated. Pile the kraut onto a platter, then place the sausages on top and serve with a good, hot mustard. Sauerbraten My godmother made the best sauerbraten I’ve eaten, and this is her recipe (God rest her soul). There are a couple of very important points. First, this recipe calls for a rump roast for a reason: you must have a lean roast, or you will get very unpleasant results from the marination process (use a rump roast, and not chuck). Second, this needs to marinate for five days, so plan accordingly. 1 4-lb. rump roast First, if there is any fat (if you got a rump roast, it’s unlikely) trim it off, then place the roast in a glass or plastic bowl (do not use metal!) Cover with everything but the fat and gingersnaps. Cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate for five days (you can get away with as little as three days, but if you’re not going to get the flavor of sauerbraten, what’s the point of making it at all?) Five days later … Remove the roast and pat dry with paper towels. Reserve the marinade. Heat the fat in a dutch oven, and brown the roast on all sides. Pour the marinade over the roast, and bring to a boil. Cover tightly and put in a 350-degree oven for about three or three and a half hours, until the roast is tender. Remove the roast. Strain the marinade and return to the dutch oven. Bring to a boil and add the crushed gingersnaps. Stir contantly and simmer until thickened, then strain the marinade and pour over the sliced sauerbraten. Serve with Kartoffelklössen (Potato Glaze) and Rotkohl. below. Kartoffelklössen (Potato Dumplings) Anglicized to “Potato Glaze” in the Ohio River Valley (”klösse” sounds like “glaze”), these are the classic accompaniment to sauerbraten. 1 1/2 lbs. baking potatoes (about two) Trim the breadcrusts, and cut into 1/2-inch cubes. Saute in the butter and oil until golden, and drain on a paper towel. Boil the potatoes until done, then drain and cool (the point is so you don’t burn yourself; the potatoes don’t have to be room temp). Peel, then cut into large pieces, and refrigerate the potatoes until cold. Rice the potatoes, mix with salt, and add the flour and potato starch. Add the egg, and mix with your hands until you have a dough. The dough should barely be sticky. Add more flour if you need to, but only enough to get the dough just barely sticky. Form the dough into balls, about 1/4 c. for each one. Stick a cube of bread into the center, then roll in your hands to enclose it. Simmer the klössen in salted water until they float, about ten to twelve minutes — cook them four at a time, and don’t boil the water, or they’ll fall apart. Rotkohl Gott im Himmel! 1/4 lb. bacon Cook the bacon, drain, and crumble. Add onion, cabbage and apples to the bacon fat, and saute uncovered until the cabbage begins to soften. Add remaining ingredients, bring to a boil, cover and simmer for an hour. Kartoffelsalat (German Potato Salad) No, this isn’t what you think. No mayonnaise, no hard-boiled eggs, no unnatural bright yellow color, and not cold. Back home, this is called “hot” to distinguish it from “cold” potato salad, what you usually see — though this is never served hot, but at room temperature. This was a mainstay back home. Simply wunnerful stuff. 2 lbs. red potatoes Boil the potatoes in their skins until done. Cool, then peel the potatoes and slice into a bowl. Cook the bacon until done, reserving the fat, and crumble the bacon and reserve. Cook the onion and celery in the fat until soft and transparent. Add sugar, flour, and dry mustard and mix well, then add broth and vinegar. Cook until it thickens (a bit — it won’t be real thick). Pour over potatoes, add crumbled bacon, and mix gently. Salt and pepper to taste, and garnish with parsley. Serve at room temperature. Bratkartoffeln (German Fries) One of the foods from my childhood I still love the most. Just make sure you make enough, because people will eat the hell out of these. Don’t use bakers for this; you need waxier potatoes, so they’ll hold their shape when you fry them. Red potatoes are traditional, but the golden potatoes work well too. 5 lbs. unpeeled potatoes Boil the potatoes until not quite done, drain and cool. Peel the potatoes, then slice them. Fry the bacon, reserving the drippings, drain the slices on paper towels, then crumble the bacon. Fry the onion in the bacon drippings until transluscent, then remove the onions and reserve. Add the vegetable oil to the drippings in the pan, turn the heat to medium high, then add the potatoes, salt, and pepper. Fry them until they start to crust, add the bacon and onions, and fry for another five minutes. Salt and pepper to taste and serve. Steamed asparagus with butter and a slice of lemon on the side makes an excellent — and authentic — accompaniment to any of the above. And don’t forget a good, dark rye with lots of butter — and beer, if you partake. Mary Eberstadt has written a long but excellent article for Real Clear Politics, The Scapegoats Among Us, in which she discusses the reasons for recent political scapegoating largely as a response to 9/11:
She goes on to identify the major scapegoats.
The other scapegoats she identifies and discusses are the “Christianist” scapegoating, the Bush scapegoating, Islamism in Europe, and the America scapegoating. She finishes her article with a discussion of the need to blame. An excellent article. Please read it all if you have the time.
is from Don Surber:
Technorati: open threads
Comment or trackback, as long as you link to here. When I read this list of ludicrously PC college courses (hat tip to Darren), I didn’t even blink:
I guess I’ve seen so many equally idiotic courses that I’ve become jaded. What’s really humorous — or depressing, depending on your outlook — is the process behind the creation of these “courses.” So I humbly present an insider’s look at a curriculum meeting. The topic is the creation of Introduction to Pigeon-toed Three-headed Lesbian of Color Studies. These meetings go through a predictable series of stages:
“I love this! The pigeon-toed three-headed lesbian of color community so needs exposure!” “Oh I know, and students need to have their consciousnesses raised!” “If this class is a success, we could expand this into a program!”
“I have one concern. Isn’t pigeon-toed a value-laden oppressive term? Shouldn’t we consider a more sensitive term?” “That’s an excellent point.” “I’m concerned that this course is exclusive. Why just three-headed lesbians of color? What about the two-headed lesbians of color?” “Yes, exactly! Or the four-headed lesbians of color!” “But what about the splayfooted community? Aren’t they being marginalized by focusing on the pigeon-toed community?” “And what about pigeon-toed or splayfooted multi-headed wimmin of color? I’m sure they’re as disenfranchised as their lesbian sisters!” “And what about the transgendered? Aren’t we assuming heteronormative gender constructions here?”
“By teaching this in the Wimmin’s Studies Program, aren’t we sending the message that the pigeon-toed or splayfooted or multi-headed communities are secondary to the lesbian community?” “What about the community of color? Shouldn’t this be taught in Marginalized Minority Studies?” “But shouldn’t we at least consider Challenged Student Studies, since pigeon-toed-ness or splayfooted-ness or multi-headed-ness are physical in nature?” “But do we want to send the message that being oppressed for physical reasons is more important than being oppressed for other reasons?”
“We need a committee to study the issues of exclusion.” “Yes, and we need a committee to study the issues of the terminology — I still maintain pigeon-toed is a value judgment used to oppress people!” “And we have to have a committee to study the issues of which program should teach this course in order to send the most supportive message.” The meeting isn’t over. Well, it is, but these concerned faculty with continue to talk for hours about their “concerns,” as if anything here were relevant to anything. The committees will report back next month, and Intro to Differently-Toed Muti-Headed Non-Heteronormative-Gendered Persons of Color will be taught under the aegis of the new Disempowered Persons Studies Program. And so it goes. We caught Dolly with her snoot buried in the dressing yesterday. So much for more dressing. Sigh.
Aslan gives himself as a sacrifice Aslan is resurrected
I’m afraid I got a late start cooking. I slept until 4:30 — unheard of for me (I have an internal clock that wakes me at 3:30 every morning. I haven’t slept as late as 4:30 in months.) I started the stock yesterday and simmered it for about eight hours, then put it in the refrigerator, turkey wings, veggies and all. I pulled it out and it’s on the simmer burner now. I’m waiting for the oven to get to 425 so I can start the pumpkin pie. So while I’m waiting … We watched The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe again yesterday evening (I blogged about it last year right after we got home from seeing it), and while watching it, I perused the comments at IMDB, as well as various other posted comments. And there are a couple of recurring themes that, well, mystify me. First, I’m puzzled by the frequent comparisons to Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings. Although they fall into the same basic genre of fantasy, and although Tolkien and Lewis were friends and contemporaries, Lord of the Rings and |
