Balls and Walnuts
more than you ever wanted to know
Category Archives: Food
unparalleled
It’s all about the best bread and the best sausages. We mail-ordered some dogs once, right from the source. Calabrese, hot links, kielbasa, all from different vendors. You just know someone had made a regular study of this, buying Polish from every possible vendor, taste-testing, taste-testing again. Retesting regularly — is this one still the best? Choosing on the basis of quality, not price. They’re that good.
Heaven.
Many more pictures here at Foodhoe’s Foraging. But tandoori chicken sausage, really? Don’t know about the Top Dog on Center Street, but my Top Dog on Durant wouldn’t serve tandoori chicken sausage. Might as well serve up Tofurkey dogs.
It’s about a cloudless China blue sky and a gentle breeze and perfect 68F weather, geeks and jocks and hairy-armpitted locals and old farts like me who see this place as fair game for pilgrimage. Can I still eat one of their Kielbasas? It’s 1/3 beef, after all. Maybe I’ll settle for Calabrese, or a Brat. Maybe I’ll settle for three.
I went to Der Wienerschnitzel this last weekend. I was that hungry. The kid behind the counter didn’t know if their Polish was all pork or a mix, so I ordered their turkey dog instead. Would I make it a double, throw in a drink and fries? Sure.
Der Wienerschnitzel dogs have an indescribable texture. Kind of like if plastic could be beaten into a meringue, then boiled into submission. The buns are gummy and tasteless, the mustard fluorescent. Throwing on a ton of relish didn’t help.
I finished one, threw away the other. Told you I was hungry.
D.
Me ‘n moo
Odd thing, but I don’t think I’ve ever blogged about my beef allergy. Probably I figured, No one wants to hear about bloody diarrhea, but you never do know what will interest some people. And one nice thing about blogging about beef allergy: it forced me to google it. I’ve asked three gastroenterologists about it (none of whom had ever heard of beef allergy) but I never googled it.
And thus I learned that it’s uncommon but not unheard of, those three gasteroenterologists notwithstanding.
Several studies reported an incidence of 1-2% of food-induced anaphylactic reactions caused by ingestion of beef. In another study an even higher figure of 9% of anaphylactic events from foods were induced by beef.
Reading about anaphylaxis from beef reminds me of my own version of Monty Python’s Four Yorkshiremen sketch. Throat squeezing shut and the doctor had to cut your throat with an ancient can-opener? You were lucky! While you were breathin’ easy from the rusty hole in your neck, my duodenum was trying to fling itself head-long out my ass. What beef does to me, anaphylaxis would indeed be an improvement.
Also known as SLICED DEATH.
But I wasn’t always like this. The funny thing is, I couldn’t remember when I got this way. I have memories of sharing a rib eye steak with my family — one steak would feed the three of us, sometimes with leftovers — and the occasional prime rib dinner at restaurants. Although, now that I think of it, prime rib used to make me sick even ten years ago. But no, I did okay with beef until recently. How recently?
November of 2007, when I photo-blogged farsumauro, which is if I’m not mistaken one big hunk of beef. And on 12/1/07 I made it again (according to the blog). Yet I can remember having colonic rebellions from beef while we still lived in Oregon, so that narrows it down to some time between 12/1/07 and 8/16/08*. What happened, I wonder? I often tell my older patients who kvetch things like “I never used to be allergic to” whatever, “You can develop an allergy up until the day you die.” But I never expected it to happen to me.
I don’t miss beef. I really don’t. Turkey burgers are surprisingly good substitutes, as is a nice meat sauce for pasta made from ground pork or ground turkey. Know what I do miss sometimes? A Thai beef salad. But it’s not a big deal for me, just something I’d eat if I could eat beef again.
Memory’s an odd thing, though, because for the longest time I told myself that this must have been caused by the Atkin’s diet. But I stopped doing Atkin’s way back in ’03 or ’04, so that’s not to blame.
It just happened. And I developed a lactose intolerance about the same time, too. You’d think with all those convenient allergies I would be forced to eat a healthy diet, wouldn’t you? And yet I still manage to find ways of abusing my body. Humans are creative that way.
D.
Our vacation in food
Somehow, I managed not to gain much weight on this vacation — only three pounds, which I’ve already shed. Not quite sure how that happened, but as I didn’t exercise all week, I suspect my weight gain was partly compensated by loss of muscle mass.
We flew from Bako to San Francisco, thence to Crescent City. SFO has a decent eating court. Expensive, but decent. We usually have dim sum, but this time Jake had the clam chowder sourdough bowl from Le Boudin (isn’t that what it’s called?) and I think Karen got some kind of sourdough sandwich with cranberries and turkey. Not bad (I always get whatever she can’t finish.) And I had some sweet and sour pork from the dim sum place.
Jayna and her pasta
Once we got to Crescent City, Karen didn’t feel like eating anything, so Jake and I went to that place at the south end of town that’s only open in the summer. We both had scampi, which was quite good, but nothing’s ever as good as the FIRST TIME, which was scampi at a North Beach place called La Pergola’s. Even scampi at La Pergola’s the second time wasn’t as good as scampi at La Pergola’s the first time. Go figure.
The next day in CC, Karen was still under the weather, so Jake and I had dinner with my former receptionist. We went to Thai House. If you ever drive through CC, there are two can’t-fail restaurants you should check out: Thai House and Sea West, which is also Thai. Thai House also serves great Vietnamese food, and Sea West does some decent American cuisine. Thai House was great as usual, but I regret not taking Jake to Sea West. The proprietor, Koon, has known Jake since he was not-quite-three. I don’t think she’s seen him since he hit puberty, and I’m sure she’d get a kick out of it.
An arch rock at Harris Beach (Brookings, Oregon)
To get to Seattle, we had to fly back to SFO, and then we took a direct flight to Seattle. We came into Sea-Tac kinda late but our friends had cupcakes waiting for us. The next night, we went to a Korean restaurant and indulged in pickles and kalbi beef, pork, and squid. I can’t eat beef so I scarfed down the pork and squid and pickles. What are those pickles called — you know, the spread they put out at Korean restaurants? I crave that stuff. Usually, my favorite dish is the little dried fishies that are part sweet, part peppery, and part salty, but their little fishies weren’t up to my usual standards. They had glorious kim chee, though, and decent fried and marinated tofu.
The next night we had a good meal at a waterfront restaurant near our friends’ house, and our last night, we had sushi. At the waterfront restaurant, I had crab cakes for dinner, and Karen had fish. Can’t remember what everyone else ordered although I think Jake had a burger and other people had that fish dish. And of course Jayna (above) had pasta.
No four-star restaurants, but we still ate better than we had in a long, long while.
D.
Live anywhere & do well
We lost one of our ophthalmologists today — she’s heading up to the Bay Area to join a private practice. As I left her going away party, I told her that she’ll need to install a dry sauna into her home. She gave me a confused smile, so I added, “To remember us by. But you’ll also have to throw in some cow manure.”
That about sums up my son’s impression of Bako. It’s hot and half the time it smells of cow manure (or, for the sake of variety, garbage). He’s decided he wants to settle eventually in a place more like southwestern Oregon, where he grew up.
“Jake,” I told him, “the sad fact is, you’ll go where the jobs are.” And it is a sad fact. The climate here is miserable, the opposite end of the spectrum from the Pacific Northwest, but I’m happier here because the job is better. Not that I disliked my patients up north — they weren’t the problem. But down here I’m a part of something bigger than myself and it feels good.
And if climate change would bring the Pacific Ocean to our city limits, and also give us an average summer’s day of 70F, I’d really be happy, but I fear climate change ain’t heading in that direction.
I told Jake that the key, the Holy Grail, would be a live-anywhere job that (A) he enjoys, (B) makes him a good living, and (C) cannot be outsourced. The only things that came to mind were “screen doctor” and “bestselling novelist,” but those are things I might enjoy. Jake dislikes writing (though he is good at it). Consultancy jobs satisfy all but (C), unless Jake were to super-specialize in just the right niche topic.
As much as I hate to admit it, medicine satisfies a lot of these requirements (unless you want to live in an in-demand area like San Diego, the Bay Area, or Seattle — but even then the jobs are there, provided you’re willing to make some compromises). I doubt Jake would want to go into medicine, but I must observe that the same thing that attracted me to medicine is still true: he would never be out of work.
It’s a harsh, unpredictable world out there. Just as for my patients I wish I had a crystal ball, I wish I had one for my son, too.
D.
Lemon squares
Recipe from the old gf, who used to make these back in high school, and who no doubt still makes a mean lemon square.
1 cup all purpose flour
1/2 cup butter, softened*
1/4 cup powdered sugar
1 cup granulated sugar
2 teaspoons grated lemon peel
2 tablespoons lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 eggs
Heat oven to 350 degrees. Mix flour, butter and powdered sugar. Press in ungreased square pan, 8x8x2 or 9x9x2 inches, building up 1/2 inch edges. Bake 20 minutes. Beat remaining ingredients about 3 minutes or until light and fluffy. Pour over hot crust.
Bake about 25 minutes or until no indentation remains when touched lightly in center; cool. Sprinkle with powdered sugar if desired.
When I made these tonight, I cut the amount of lemon peel in half but kept everything else the same. My crowd doesn’t like things that are too lemony (Jake especially).
If you’re used to making these with Crisco, you need to try the butter version. The crust is essentially short bread, and there’s plenty of custardy lemon curd on top. This is one of those desserts that I could easily nibble into extinction, so I have to force myself to cover it and stick it in the fridge. It’s that good.
It occurs to me that there’s no reason why this could not be adapted to any citrus fruit. The more interesting question is whether it would work for a strongly flavored berry, like raspberries. Would it be as good sans rind? I’ll have to try it some time, and I’ll report back to you.
D.
*One of the advantages of Bakersfield is that I can soften butter, proof yeast, and get my bread to rise in our rather poorly insulated garage.
The child is father to the teen
Slow vacation-Monday morning, although I am on call, so anything could happen . . .
I’m cleaning our spare room, and found a few photos to share. These are scans from print photos, hence the cruddy quality. First, Jake at 16 months:
How dare you dress me in so many primary colors?
And at six years (no telling what Karen’s doing inside the Miata):
Bwaahaahaha! I locked Mommy in the car!
And finally, Jake at age 8, already perfecting the look which would be his stock and trade as a teenager (Karen says, “Proof that he was never a child.”)
Jake with his cousin Katie
D.
Antipasto dinner
Antipasto for dinner? Yeah, really! If you’ve never tried this, you should. It’s dead easy, tasty, and healthy (depending upon what you put on the plate).
Here is what tonight’s antipasto included:
Baguette slices
A very runny brie
An Irish cheese, some smoked gouda, and one of my favorite cheeses, manchego
Hard Italian salami, coppa, prosciutto, and mortadella
A peeled carrot
Chorizo
Red grapes and honey
Dried mango
You’re only limited by your imagination (as you might have guessed by my inclusion of dried mango and chorizo). I’ll often include a sliced apple or pear, and dry-roasted almonds or walnuts. Honey is a must — there’s just something so right about dipping nuts and grapes into honey and contrasting that with a sharp cheese.
Other times, I’ve included pate, which I guess is the same idea as chorizo: something a little spicy and fatty, as if the cheese weren’t fatty enough. Olives are a nice addition, too, as are gherkins or those giant capers.
Done right, you’ll have all the major flavors and textures represented (and with a little care, you can get a number of different colors onto the plate, too). It’s a pricey thing to put together but you’ll have lots of good leftovers in the fridge.
What did you have for dinner tonight?
D.
PS: I stole this photo from my friend Stan’s facebook page because I miss him and Jayna and Elissa, and I love this photo so much. Oh, how I miss them.
Happy Father's Day, Stan!
Where I grew up
The two homes I lived in as a kid still stand, although one is unrecognizable. The unrecognizable one is our first home, the one which the new owners uglified soon after my dad sold it. In the old days, we had a porch and a Dutch Elm (if I remember correctly) and some nice ferns and various other shrubbery that gave the place curb appeal. The remodeled home looks like a pastel box.
When I’m down in Southern California, assuming I’m in the neighborhood, I’ll drive by one house or the other. It can be depressing driving by that first house — disconcerting is perhaps a better word — because more often than not, I drive right past it. I shouldn’t have to check the street address to know, “This is the home where I pooped and peed a couple thousand diapers.”
The weekend thus far
How’s everyone’s three-day weekend going? Except you Canadians, you don’t get a three-day weekend, do you? Nyah-nyah. And where IS everyone? I realize I never get comments on my game-related posts, but you folks have been quiet for several days now.
Yesterday, we took a drive down to LA to go on an eating binge. This is what we do for entertainment. If LA had the equivalent of a Roman vomitorium, we’d be there. Instead, we’ll indulge in anything from tasty holes-in-the-wall to snooty upscale eateries. Last night was more the latter than the former. Folks with long memories will recall that I’ve been jonesing for Ipswich clams, and Jar looked like a decent place to wallow in clamminess, so that’s what we did.
The group was: my wife and son, my sister, and my friend Mike. My family all liked Mike, which was great, since it’s never a given that your family will think your friend is as cool as you think he is. But he’s basically one of us (same age, not too dissimilar upbringing) which helps.
The food: yes, we had the clams. Two orders. Sadly, they didn’t bring enough; even two orders left us unsatisfied. My sister and I (the resident Ipswich clam experts) agreed that these were superior to every other west coast fried clam you might encounter, but still not up to 7E’s standards (a fried clam joint in New England). No bellies.
Karen and I had the soft shell crab special. Karen liked hers, but I thought it was a little disappointing. Soft shell crab is tricky; if they’re a little too old, the shell isn’t quite soft enough to crisp up in the deep fryer. We had some tasty French fries with it and some pea greens that were also very good.
My sister had sole, and while I thought it was excellent, I think it was a little undercooked for her taste. Jake had coq au vin (really, really good . . . in fact, I’m wishing we had taken home his leftovers) and Mike had a leg of lamb dish that also looked great. And we all did dessert. And we all lived to tell about it.
Come on, folks, chime in. You can’t ALL be doing fun stuff with families this weekend. I know some of you are on the ‘net.
D.