The Cure For Everything Is Salt …
… tears, sweat, and the sea. (Dinesen)
You can scroll the shelf using ← and → keys
You can scroll the shelf using ← and → keys
Lou Schuler and Alwyn Cosgrove, the authors of The New Rules of Lifting, built their book around six basic movements that the human body should master: squat, bend (deadlift), lunge, push, pull, and twist. I can honestly say this book has changed the way I work out for better.
I learned about the book about five months ago, when I was looking for a way to change up my workouts. After three years of adhering fairly strictly to a five-day split, I felt that my returns were diminishing as my injuries were mounting (rotator cuff, knee, elbows … aging is a bitch!). I considered doing Cross-Fit, but I decided to give the New Rules program a try first, and it was exactly the change I needed.
Twenty rules in all, but here are the first five to get you started:
The rise of bootcamp programs, TRX training, piloxing, Cross-Fitm and zumba indicates to me that general sensibilities about fitness are trending toward functional strength, mobility, and flexibility–a really positive evolution in our quest to get and stay healthy. With the focus on compound movements, large muscle groups, and systematic cycles for workouts, The New Rules of Lifting offers an awesome framework for people who want weights at the center of their workout. Press this!
I just finished reading Rowan Jacobsen’s “American Terroir: Savoring the Flavors of Our Woods, Waters, and Fields,” a splendid book about food and place. The author looks at several different foods from honey to oysters to wine to apples and explains in detailed (but not at all dry or overly scientific) prose how and why certain locations produce rock-star flavors impossible anywhere else. I learned a lot about the coffee bean and king salmon particularly, and while I’m a salty/savory person at heart, the chapter on chocolate had me craving a Taza bar all night.
The last year for me has been an exercise in culinary simplification—moving from recipes to ratios, finding ways to bring out the flavors of food with more herbs and spice than butter and oil, and eating “as close to the local ground” as a Chicagoan can. As a result, I think I’m more obsessed and excited about cooking and eating than ever before. This book feeds that obsession and makes me even more grateful for the miracle of real food and the joys of discovering flavors that are unique products of time, place, and tradition.
Thanks, Michael, for the fabulous gift!
Last night, kitchen lab with Karyn and Kim—one of our occasional evenings when we cook something together-ish that we’ve never done before with the understanding that pizza can always salvage our night.
I’d just gotten Thomas Keller’s “Ad Hoc at Home” and David Chang’s “Momofuku” and was torn between Keller’s fried chicken and Chang’s ramen. In the end, we went with neither. I was able to get all of the ingredients for the ramen broth, but I couldn’t find the 10 hours necessary to make it right, from start to chinois.
Instead, then, pork on pork night: pork belly buns and bo ssam (which I’m told means wrapped or enclosed).
Mark at Holzkopf Meat Market got his hands on three three-pound pork bellies for me. He looked a little incredulous as I explained what I was going to do with them, and I was amazed at how inexpensive pork belly is—nine pounds for under $20, wow! And fairly easy to make for pork buns. Some high-heat roasting followed by slow-heat cooking (sort of like confit) in the oven—then wrap, chill to make slicing easier, and unleash the goodness of nature’s meat candy.
The buns took the longest to make, and still they weren’t too difficult. In fact, the mixer did most of the work. A couple of risings, some rolling, 10 minutes in the steamer, and voila! They came out soft and fluffy and reminded me of a filipino pork bun called siopao that my mother made from time to time when I was child. We assembled the pork buns, each to his or her own, tucking strips of pork belly, slices of quick-pickled cucumbers, and hot sauce into the little white blankets. Three of those, and I was full. Then came Kim’s Korean pancakes with scallions, peppers, carrots, squid, and shrimp, yum!
An hour later, we sat down to dinner: six pounds of pork shoulder roasted at 300 degrees for six hours and glazed just prior to serving with brown sugar. We each pulled chunks of the rich and tender meat from the roast and rolled the pork with sushi rice, pureed kim chee, ginger scallion sauce, and ssamjang in butter lettuce leaves. I’d like to say more about it, but by the time we sat down the thought of more food wasn’t all that exciting, regardless of how good it all tasted and looked.
If you’re on the fence about buying Chang’s recipe book, you should go for it! Not only is it a terrificly entertaining read—the recipes are accessible and they work. Next up, ramen Momofuku style, and possibly their brick chicken (which will require me to learn how to debone a bird and to get my hands on meat glue). Thomas Keller says in his foreword that one of the ways to become a better cook is to challenge yourself regularly. Self, the gauntlet has been thrown down!
I should have been reading “Lolita.” Actually, I should have been listening to Jeremy Irons read it to me—courtesy of audible.com, and I think the only way I think I’d be able to get through it in time for our next book club meeting. But instead, I read Deidre Heekin’s “Libation: A Bitter Alchemy,” which was—pardon the low-hanging pun—intoxicatingly good.
A gift from Michael (who actually attended the wine-tasting of which she writes toward the end), the book contains essays about the finer spirits of life (I refer to vodka, campari, absinthe, and the like). It also chronicles her personal story from her early days as a newlywed experiencing Italy for the first time … to baker … to restauranteur … to micro-vintage winemaker.
I’ve been to Deidre and Caleb’s restaurant in Woodstock many times, and I confess that I’ve taken for granted how much knowledge and passion go into their food and wine pairings. Until this point, I only knew that each bite and each sip have been wonderful in the most understated and elegant ways. “Libation” gives me a bit of the backstory, and the narrative is as fine as their meals.
This past week has been a travel blur for me, with trips to Kentucky and New York. Thanks to Deidre, I also feel like I’ve been to Italy, Russia, New Orleans, Paris, and Vermont. I’ll drink to that.
Honey P. and I having been talking about our eventual move to Woodstock, Vermont, for a couple of years now. We’ve even got our daily routine planned out—living on the Green, walking to the local coffeeshop with the dogs in the morning, and dinner more often than not at pane e salute.
Deidre and Caleb have a new book, In Late Winter, We Ate Pears, coming out in June. You can pre-order it on the Chelsea Green site. You can also watch a terrific video of them talking about slow food and the heirloom recipes that they bring back from Italy during their annual travels.
If I could, I’d fly to Woodstock once a month, just to have dinner there. Hopefully, in roughly four years, we’ll be able to stroll there more often.
Charleston is an eating town, and I’m a culinary whore. That’s probably the kind way of putting it. Six hours after a meal at Hyman’s, I’m still full. “Never want to eat again” full. But still, we venture to our last dinner of the trip, to a place called Slightly North of Broad. To the locals, SNOB.
We started out with their SNOB martini, made with locally produced Firefly vodka. The muscatine wine with which the vodka is infused gives it a subtle sweetness that worked really well with the blue cheese olives. So well, I ordered another. And my appetite returned.
Appetizer, split between two: duck confit and cashews wrapped in romaine with a sweet-sauce dipping sauce. And then two fish dishes, traded: triggerfish with chive and cream sauce, and flounder stuffed with deviled crab. Both, extraordinary preparations and perfectly balanced flavors. We did what we almost never do … we ordered dessert. A key lime pie chased with muscat.
The decor is homey (though the Christmas accents were on overdrive). The room, small and cozy. And while the winelist could be seen as a little anemic, there are some lovely choices on both their regular and reserve lists.
They also sell t-shirts. How could I not?
I couldn’t wait for Amazon, as soon as I read about Alice Water’s new book, I had to have it. Trotted down to Shiretown Books in Woodstock over the weekend and picked up a copy for myself and one for Michael. Carried it across Vermont. Toted it home in my carry-on (this is big!). Reading it, loving it.
And what I love most about it is the philosophy that undergirds her approach to cooking. Good food costs … some money, yes, but more time and attention, and our respect.
Tonight Honey P. is away for business. And normally, I’d order a pizza and rent a sci-fi movie that I know I’d only get to watch to the end alone. Not tonight, thanks to Alice. I went to the market for fresh greens and homepage sausage. Between stints at my desk writing at a report, I made pizza dough, spun dry organic romaine, grated mozzarella, sauteed sausage and tomatoes, emulsified egg and oil and chopped anchovies for homemade caesar dressing, Total elapsed time making dinner for one: two hours. Total time consuming a salad and two slices of pizza: 20 minutes. A wonderful meal in solitude during which I flipped through Saveur and Gourmet and planned our upcoming Thanksgiving celebration, priceless.
I saved some pizza for an eighth-inning bite (go, Red Sox!). The crust was a little soggy, but it was still pretty savory. Alice would approve. Sunday night, very good night!