Gluten-free is everywhere. I saw it in every aisle at this year’s Fancy Food Show, which was encouraging, but made me wary at the same time. Tuesday’s Toronto Star echoed my thoughts.

Remember that low-fat thing? Everyone thought fat was the culprit adding unwanted pounds to our tummies and thighs — until everyone realized that those products screaming “LOW-FAT” were filled with extra sugars, unhealthy carbs and glue-like substances to make up for the missing texture. Guess what’s going to happen to gluten-free when Big Food gets its hands on the genre? I’ve already passed over the “Wonder Breads” of gluten-free, which are sickly sweet and have a grotesque, soft-sticky texture.

For those of us who must eat this way by necessity, or will soon need to, this muddies the waters terribly, and people suddenly faced with a life-changing health decision may find themselves in over their heads. When I’m looking for a gluten- or dairy-free product, I look first to manufacturers who have a reason for being so — typically it’s because someone in their family, or they themselves, have become ill. Same goes for restaurants. There is a vested interest in creating a product or dish that not only tastes good, but is also resplendent with health benefits.

Big Food just wants your dollars. All 4 billion of them.

Having said all of that, I firmly believe in caveat emptor — but I also feel compelled to help consumers make that decision based on solid, unbiased information with the goal of health. And as someone who has stood, overwhelmed, in the grocery aisle, I know that this is one big honking task to take on. That’s what Zenfully Delicious is for, but holy hell is there a lot of work ahead. The National Foundation for Celiac Awareness is already doing a great job, so I’ll stick to the bigger issues.

So until the new site launches, I encourage you to read your supermarket labels. Know what all the gooey and unhealthy additives are, and be on the lookout for them. We’ll be doing product reviews to help you with the process, but for now, keep it natural!

Photo by Elephi Pelephi

Four months ago I was in misery. My fibromyalgia pain had reached epic proportions, I couldn’t think straight, and I was attempting to put on a brave face so the rest of the world would not know there was something “broken” within me. After all, I was an entrepreneur and world traveler — a connoisseur of life’s decadent pleasures. But that facade was crumbling before me, and I knew I could not accept another invitation to travel until I got this situation under control, because my body simply could not handle it.

So I outed myself. It was the best thing, bar none, I have ever done. If I had kept quiet and suffered in silence, I would not be sitting here four months later with glowing skin, almost no pain, an effervescent spirit, and a desire to change the world. In sharing my experience with you, you shared with me, and helped me out of a very dark pit of anger, physical pain and hopelessness. You have no idea just how big my gratitude is for that, but suffice it to say that it served as the seed idea for another company, because now it’s my turn to help you, and contribute to your quality of life.

As a bonus, since I cut out most dairy and sugar in June, 15 lbs have melted off with no effort whatsoever. If I could take a snapshot of this moment and go back in time to my April self, I would let her know that it was going to be ok, that it would get better. That is what I will now share with the world at large, and people who need to hear it.

I will get into more detail about the exact hows and whys when Zenfully Delicious launches next month, and I’ve never been so excited about a project in my life. It seems that everywhere I turn now, people are developing problems with food, allergens — and don’t even get me started on the stress. But I have discovered in 4 short months that holistic methods are the way to manage these problems best, because rather than focusing on a specific symptom or problem, I am healing my system at large. And guess what? Anyone can do this.

What magnificent freedom I have found thanks to Dr. Alex Rinehart, who has been my teammate all the way. You’ll be hearing a lot more about him, and we’re developing webinars to help you transform yourself to wellness, so sit tight a little longer as we get this show on the road. I also have one more big hurdle to go, which I’m taking on this week, but you’ll have to wait a few days for that post. First I want to relish that challenge for myself a little bit.

Be well this weekend — and go play with your food!

Whilst I was running amok at Peru’s La Mistura culinary festival, I grabbed Chef Maricel Presilla to help me learn the secrets of picarones, a fried dough dessert that had me addicted from the first bite. Every culture seems to have a fried dough, and that’s as good as street food gets. I thought from Maricel’s description that these were gluten-free, but alas, they do have flour. This presents a fabulous challenge for me to come up with a substitute — I bet tapioca flour would be ideal. Light and fluffy, and slathered with sugary syrup, picarones are made from sweet potato or squash. You can see a sample recipe here.

A production of the The Gilded Fork.
gildedfork.com

Travel & accommodations provided by Prom Peru.

Oh, crunchy cucumber, how I love thee. And I love thee naked, pickled, puréed, sliced or diced. You give me reprieve from the disgusting heat of summer, and sometimes you just offer a little pick-me-up. That is why, when feasting on your natural beauty, with just a hint of sea salt, my 6-year-old niece approached, and I offered her a pony to go away. I needed you all to myself.

***
Yes, I dig the cucumber. I admit it shamelessly and with reckless abandon. In recent years, given how sensitive my palate has become, I’ve found it impossible to eat anything but organic cucumbers — otherwise I can taste the chemicals. This is not only good news for my body, but also for my eyes, because cukes are more than just a beauty treatment cliché. Rich with liquid, they offer soothing hydration to tired eyes (particularly the skin underneath). So the next time you need a little pick-me-up, have a seat, pour a cocktail, lean back and put a couple of cuke slices on your eyes. Please close them first. And bring a straw for the cocktail.

There are some other natural beauty treatments that can be crafted with cukes as well (including a cucumber body pizza for sunburned or itchy skin), which I stumbled upon at Vegetable Drawer Beauty. Here is my favorite:

Radiant Facial Treatment
If your complexion is dull and oily, this easy formula will help you look glowing and radiant.

1 teaspoon grated cucumber
splash of rosewater

Apply to face and allow to stay for 15 minutes, then rinse with warm water.

SUMMER FEST 2010
Now, if you are more interested in eating the actual cucumbers, my cohorts at Summer Fest 2010 have plenty of options for you, including what we’ve rustled up on The Gilded Fork | Culinary Media Network. I’m off to sit by the pool with my slices, but do feel free to bring me a dish of something tasty. Here’s what they have to offer:

The Gilded Fork | Culinary Media Network
Chilled Cucumber Mint Soup
Summer Squash: Delicious & Nutritious

Margaret Roach: Away to Garden
Why size matters — and smaller is better (includes pickling tips/tricks, and freezing the excess)

Michelle Buffardi: Cooking Channel’s Devour/The Blog (Scripps)
10 things you didn’t know you could make with zucchini
@mbuffardi

Alison Sickelka: Food2 blog (Scripps)
Zucchini Appetizers
@ali_s

Michelle Buffardi: Food Network
Paula Deen’s zucchini bread

Elizabeth Gray: Food Network
Cuke Salad & Lighter Cuke/Zuke Ideas

Cate O’Malley: Sweetnicks.com
Indian Cucumber Wraps
@cateomalley

Paige Smith Orloff: The Sister Project
On excess! Why I hate zucchini (plus pickling commentary).
@paigeorloff

Diane and Todd: White on Rice Couple
Stuffed Cucumbers with Prosciutto and Feta
@whiteonrice

Kelly Senyei: Just a Taste
Cucumber & Sesame Salad (includes step-by-step illustrations of slicing cucumbers on a mandoline)
@justataste

Caroline Wright: The Wright Recipes
Cucumber Salad
Marinated Summer Squash Salad
@chefcaroline

Caron Golden: San Diego Foodstuff
Cucumber and Radish Confetti Soup
@carondg

Tigress in a Jam
50 Ways with Cucurbits
@tigressjampickl

Alana Chernila: Eating from the Ground Up
Cucumber Mint Sorbet with Lime Shortbread
@edability

Judy: Divina Cucina
Fried Zucchini Blossoms (and more!) from Italy
@divinacucina

Shauna Ahern: Gluten-Free Girl
Cucumber, Dill & Mint Popsicles
@glutenfreegirl

Tara: Tea & Cookies
Stuffed Zucchini, Zucchini “Noodles” & Pickles

Nicole: Pinch My Salt
Grilled Zucchini with Lemon & Olive Oil
@pinchmysalt

HOW YOU CAN JOIN IN SUMMER FEST:
Each Wednesday for the rest of the summer (and probably longer), a group of blogging friends including those above will swap our recipes and tips about the following harvest-fresh ingredients. Here’s the schedule:

7/28: Cukes ‘n Zukes
8/4: Corn
8/11: Herbs, Greens and Beans
8/18: Stone Fruit
8/25 Tomatoes

We each post something and then link to one another, so that you can travel around the combined effort, gathering the goodies. Sharing makes the experience even better, so if you have a recipe or tip that fits any of our weekly themes, you can do either of the following:

• Leave a comment on participating blogs with a link to your recipe/tip
• Publish a post of your own, and grab the juicy Summer Fest 2010 tomato badge (illustrated by Matt Armendariz of Mattbites)

We hope to see you in the kitchen!

When I wrote my last post, I was dealing with the consequences of detoxing from the foods that were giving me trouble, trying to fully, powerfully accept my new circumstances. I was wrestling with it, hoping things would change…soon.

Little did I know that just one day later, the clouds would break.

Now I feel fantastic. I’m thinking clearly. My body is no longer creaking and aching with every movement. Given how good I feel, no piece of bread or glass of wine seems important enough to worry about.

So now I can focus on the next part of my mission to help those with chronic illness live a delicious life. And let’s not forget those who are stressed out, because let’s face it: Stress is a major contributor to chronic illness. It’s time we all took a great big deep breath. Together.

It is with so much excitement and pride that I offer you a sneak preview of my new baby, Zenfully Delicious. I am creating a home online for us all to take that breath, and rediscover how delicious life can be no matter what our challenges. Yes, there will be food. But there will be so much more. Excited? Me too.

Right now you can get a little taste and sign up for updates as we get closer to launching the site. I have a magnificent team of people helping me, and we’d love for you to join us if you want to take part. If so, please don’t hesitate to reach out to me here or at foodphilosophy [at] gmail [dot] com.

Get a sneak peek here: http://zenfullydelicious.com

Photo: Kelly Cline

Today started off as one of those days. I got into a flow working on my new site last night, and before I knew it the sun was up. Designing all night can leave a person feeling…vulnerable…so when it was time for breakfast, I was hit with a sledgehammer-level craving for coffee with half ‘n half, and a nice plate of toast with unsalted butter.

Then I burst into tears. The Italian kind.

Though each day seems to get a bit easier, there are times when my new lifestyle catches me off guard, and if I’m not 100% on my game, a wave of misery can knock me right on my ass.  So I must channel Mad-Eye Moody and have CONSTANT VIGILANCE! I realize to some people this might seem ridiculous, but when your life has revolved around food for this long, hey, it’s tough. This would be hard for anyone, never mind an intensely intense food person.

At least my doctor and I seem to be on the right track. I’ll tell you more about him tomorrow. In the interim, in the words of my favorite Spanish philosopher Inigo Montoya, lemme ‘splain:

My blood tests came back last week, and everything looked great except for one big thing, as we expected: My adrenal system is exhausted, and has gone on strike. Given that I’ve been perpetually stressed out from about the age of 5, my body has come to consider it quite normal to be fighting a saber-toothed tiger — even if the translation is “Jennifer is reading a book.” Unfortunately, the body can only hold that kind of baseline for so long, and frankly I’m surprised my system lasted this long under such conditions.

Since going gluten-free, and beginning the healing process, a few interesting things have happened. The good news is that I’ve lost about 10 lbs this month, and now only look like a puffer fish occasionally. The not-so-good news is that while my stomach is healing from the gluten fiesta, it is hypersensitive, so to avoid excruciating fibromyalgia pain of all sorts, I’ve also needed to eliminate caffeine, dairy, eggs and peanuts. Wine is also a definite no, discovered via a moment of rebellion earlier this week. So we’re hoping that after a solid 6 months of detox, my body can heal to the point where I can introduce some of those things back into my life.

C’mon, Christmas!

As my body repairs itself, there are physical ups and downs, some quite painful, but thankfully those moments seem to be short-lived. The other day I worked from my bed, as the humidity in NYC this week was epic, and that makes my body very unhappy. I’m now looking at what else I might need to do in order to live at my fullest, whether that means moving to a drier, cooler climate or at least spending summers in a more friendly one. (Anybody want to trade an NYC apartment for July & August?)

I’m also hard at work pulling together the pieces for my new site, and I can’t wait to tell you about it! I hope that a year from now I’ll be well on my way to making chronic illness a well-behaved, leashed bitch. And not just my illness, but the ones out there. Like maybe yours.

Once I’m feeling a bit more spry I will get back to the food itself. I’ve been subsisting on whatever I can figure out, and haven’t felt like cooking much, so there haven’t been too many fun discoveries yet. But they will come. Oh yes, they will come.

I walked into this year’s Fancy Food Show with trepidation. I made sure I had a good breakfast, because I expected there would not be much to sample on the show floor that would fit within my current parameters of gluten- and dairy-free (among other things). Color me happy, because everywhere I looked, there were great big, blue signs saying “Certified Gluten-Free.” It seemed that every row had one, and some were completely allergen-free. I felt like a kid at Christmas.

I tasted a lot, and made Madeline taste what I could not, and though as usual there was a lot of mediocre, there were some serious standouts. All of their sites have store locators, so please indulge yourself in textures and tastes that will absolutely delight you. I promise.

Divvies: www.divvies.com

Oh, chocolate. Even though I’m not a huge chocolate eater, sometimes I just want a little something sweet (I’m looking at you, ladies). Lately, however, I’ve had to remove dairy from my diet in order to heal.

I’m also a sucker for beautiful packaging. So when I stumbled upon the Divvies booth, I was a little overexcited. As is typically the case with outstanding allergy-free products, there was a personally compelling story behind it all. Founder Robin Sandler’s son often spent birthdays and Easter celebrations without chocolate due to his extensive food allergies, and was unable to partake in the comfort of sharing food, as so many of us do. So she decided to do something about it, and created Divvies, a completely allergy-free bakery in South Salem, NY from which everything is designed to be shared. There are giant popcorn boxes with scoops and individual bags, trays of cupcakes, cookies and…wait for it…chocolate mint crunch bars.

Lori has just released her first cookbook, so look for more on her on an upcoming Food Philosophy podcast. There might just be a cookbook in it for you. You can order her products online via the web link above.

Gilbert’s Gourmet Goodies: www.gilbertsgourmetgoodies.com

It is often with hesitation that I bite into a gluten-free cookie. Usually they’re crumbly, taste like beans, or just aren’t worth the bother. Not these. Gilbert’s Goodies dairy-free chocolate chip, snickerdoodle and chocolate cookies are soft and luxurious like a normal, soft-baked cookie. I nearly lost my head for a minute.

Much like me, Liz Gilbert was an avid cook who developed food allergies later in life. And, like me, she found the offerings out there less than appealing, so she got to work in the kitchen. Her cookies have no wheat, gluten, peanuts, nuts, soy, milk, corn, corn syrup, transfats or preservatives, and gawd are they good. I could kiss her for her efforts, because those bites of cookie made all the bad go away.

Aunt Gussie’s: www.auntgussies.com

I haven’t had an English muffin in months. I’m a total hog for English muffins. And while I was an avid whole-grain bread eater before, I’ve found that much of the gluten-free breads out there are essentially Wonder Bread without the wheat. White, tasteless — blech. So I was delighted to meet David Caine of Aunt Gussie’s Cookes & Crackers, because his whole grain rosemary focaccia bread and English muffins were gorgeous without anything else on them. Gorgeous.

The best part? His company didn’t start out making gluten-free products — his mother made him do it. I need to shake that woman’s hand.

Against the Grain Gourmet: www.againstthegraingourmet.com

Pizza? Certo. Baguettes? Mais oui. Bagels? I was verklempt.

Though it contained dairy, I did have to sneak a few bites of dough from Against the Grain Gourmet, as the yellow color drew in my eye like a handsome cabana boy. The mozzarella added such flavor that I wanted to snarf the whole tray of samples. The texture was light, airy and a bit firmer than conventional baguettes, but the flavor made up for what I miss in a baguette.

I made Madeline try the pizza, as too much cheese would have sent my body to bad places, but given how she was raving about the pesto pizza (sans pine nuts) for the rest of the afternoon — and her unabashed love for cheese — I’m going to take her word for it.

It’s taken me a while, but I have come to a place of peace with the idea that my life has been forever altered. There are still ups and downs as I work my way through eliminating the foods that presently cause my body pain (more on that in another post), but I accept the downs with the knowledge that my health and body will not always be in a state of breakdown, and that wellness is on the horizon. Sometimes a good cry is remarkably cathartic in those moments.

I entered into a food-restricted world kicking and screaming, but the way has become clearer. What I now see, instead of limitation, is the opportunity that exists not only for me, but for any of you who live in the realm of chronic illness — whether it’s yours or someone else’s. And while there are some great resources presently available to manage it all, there is much work to be done in this area. It is with that premise in mind that I’d like to share my new mission with you:

I am committed to helping every person who has a chronic illness live a delicious life.

It is not enough to simply exist, to endure — to survive. Life at its fullest is about thriving, about getting out of bed each day ready to take on the world in the pursuit of one’s passion. It’s about celebrating the sensual pleasures that make life sweeter. After living for many months in a state of endurance, rather than one of passionate pursuit, I powerfully realize that it isn’t enough. I won’t live that way — and I don’t want others with chronic illness to, either.

There are many pieces of this new mission, but the easiest and most obvious involves the food. In the immediate future, I will be adding resources to this blog, as well as to our Culinary Media Network site, and we will continue to add recipes, videos and other media to our current content for those of us with dietary restrictions. I have a lot more than gluten-free going on right now, and you might, too.

There are other things in the works that will roll out slowly, one of which includes an entirely new site I’m creating. Look for an announcement on that very soon.

I am excited about this new phase, because a whole new universe of sensory discovery awaits. I’ve heard from enough of you publicly and privately to know that I am not alone in this need for something beyond survival. If you are struggling, know that I’ve heard you.

In fact, I’ve told Oprah about you.

Oprah is currently holding an open casting call for a new star on her OWN network, so I’ve uploaded an audition video to her site announcing my mission to create a show to help people with chronic illness live a delicious life — where the illness takes a back seat to LIVING.

Is it a long shot? Sure. But if I’m going to create a national platform, I needed to get the momentum started somewhere, so I’ve thrown my hat in the ring. If you support my mission (or hell, even if you just like my strawberry photo in the blog header), I ask that you please click and vote for me. No registration is required — just a click. You can vote multiple times. You can vote by clicking the link below, or the image in the top of my sidebar.

VOTE for Jennifer’s Audition Video to be Oprah’s Next Star

(Chef Mark is also auditioning with his new “Share Your Plate” concept, so you can vote for him too.)

Thanks so much to every one of you who has left a comment, sent me a note or a word of encouragement. Your support means so much to me, and the knowledge that there are others out there who can benefit from my efforts to give chronic illness a loud, powerful voice gets me out of bed every day — even when I need to drag myself to my feet.

Let’s do this.

Photo: Kelly Cline

Dear Chef/Restaurant Owner:

We have had a long and loving relationship, you and I. For as long as I can remember, you have been an integral part of my passion for living. I have worked in your kitchen, eaten in your dining room — and championed your philosophy from different corners of the world. You have given me so much pleasure, and I hope I’ve been able to show that appreciation in some tangible way. Your passion has often been my reason for getting up in the morning, and for that I thank you.

Our relationship of late, however, has hit a road bump. You see, for medical reasons, I’ve recently needed to eliminate gluten from my diet. This is not a phase I’m going through, or a low-carb diet — it is a matter of living as a fully functional human being vs. being in excruciating physical pain. It’s been a difficult adjustment, but I’m getting better with it every day.

The biggest hurdle, however, is this: I’ve tried to dine in your restaurant lately, but I have often left your dining room in tears, because there isn’t much for me to eat. Some of your dishes send my mental mouth whirling, where I crave a taste of your yuzu sauce, or a bite of your scallops — but I cannot order them, because one of the ingredients in that dish will make the rest of the evening — and the next few days — a veritable hell for me.

At first, I didn’t want to pester you. I am the last person who wants to diminish your creativity and dedication to texture, to flavor…to an incredible experience for the palate. I did not want to be that customer. I’ve discovered something important, however, and I thought it was critical to tell you: There are many more of me in your dining public than I had ever imagined.

May I request that we work together?

If you could give me a dish that would satiate my palate, yet be totally safe for me, I would joyfully enter your dining room as often as possible. I would tell others like me that your restaurant is the place where we can enjoy a meal anxiety-free, where choosing from the menu is not an exercise in futility, and where the chef is not cursing at me for ruining his combination of ingredients. Where the kitchen staff understands that if bread has even touched what I’m eating, there could be trouble for me.

Where the servers do not see me as a difficulty to be dealt with — but as someone who supports and champions what you all do for a living.

I’m not asking for a whole menu of my own. I simply would love a couple of dishes that would leave my mouth giddy. Much of what you’re already cooking is 80% there, so I’m hoping this is not an unreasonable request. (I do, however, need to recognize Tinto in Philadelphia for a most unexpected treat: An entire menu of gluten-free tapas dishes. What an evening that was.)

And if you could please, please teach your servers that an errant chunk of cookie in my whipped cream is not just an “oops,” but a mistake that will leave me doubled over in pain on the subway ride home, I would be ever grateful.

Will you work with me?

And if you are already working with me, but I don’t know it, will you tell me so? I’d like to know — and share with these gluten-free brethren of mine — where you are, so that we might thank you with our patronage.

With love and respect,
Jennifer

Yes, I’ve been pretty quiet. As my body has adjusted to the past few weeks of living gluten-free, my mind and emotions have been on a pretty steep, twisty roller coaster. I’ve also been in LA with consulting clients, which involves a lot of dining out, so by Day 2 of this trip the most familiar words out of my mouth were “I can’t have that.”

Cue meltdown.

What do you do when your life revolves around food and drink, and said objects are suddenly the enemy? If you are like me, you go straight to DEFCON 1: Life sucks, I will never experience pleasure again andIhateeveryone. If you are fortunate like me, there are good friends standing by to talk you off the ledge, give you a hug and a pat on the butt. Then you breathe, regroup, and move along the path to wellness, even if one itty bitty little step at a time.

Though I was feeling great when I wrote my last post, that initial nirvana has subsided, and I now live in a cloud of uncertainty, never knowing what will happen with my body from one moment to the next. (This makes scheduling activities particularly interesting.) I’ve also found that gluten-free mixes, for the most part, make me violently ill within minutes. So the unfortunate next step is to eliminate all grains for a certain period, along with dairy, eggs — and my precious coffee.

I have begun to HATE dining in restaurants, because invariably the dish I want has one ingredient I can’t have, and is incorporated into a key component of the dish, so it can’t just be removed. Or the stuff I can have holds no appeal. Or even better, some servers just forget about the gluten-free thing altogether, so an accidental chunk of cookie in my whipped cream renders me doubled over in pain within an hour.

I’m really trying to be a trouper here, but this sucks in every possible way. I find myself in tears a lot.

It would be groovy if all my symptoms were gone and I could say, “Hey, it’s the gluten! No more pain!” But that isn’t the case. The searing leg cramps, the swelling, the stomach nightmares — they all still linger. So now comes the dreaded part, where we get rid of everything else that brings me pleasure. The other night, out of spite, I ate almost a whole tray of brownies because I was just so ANGRY. The next day was less than fun.

I’m not a hedonist by philosophy. I embrace the rational pursuit of my pleasures. Living my life well is incredibly important to me, so in the face of having my definition of that turned upside down, I’m reacting less than optimally. But I am not lamenting long-gone orgiastic meals and jeroboams of the finest bubbly; I am missing a crust of bread. And soon it will be a piece of cheese, and a glass of wine. Where will it stop? And for how long?

I have a memory etched into my head from my Gramma Crucitti, who had a heart attack in her late 60s and had to go on a special diet. As I watched her slather a piece of toast with low-fat cottage cheese one morning, I looked her in the eye and said, “How does that taste?” She cringed at me with the most pitiful face, and said “Please. No wanna talk about it.”

I know how she felt.

In the midst of all this, however, I’ve been trying to see how I can leverage this nightmare so the information is of some use to others — to you, to a friend, a loved one, a dinner guest, or even a customer. The challenges I’m encountering are not new, certainly, but I’ve got a few hoops to jump through here if I intend to keep traveling and exploring the planet. Since you might one day find yourself in those same locations, I’ve started taking notes. And since I want to have guests over to dinner while not compromising my health, I need to learn to cook different foods. I’m taking notes on that, too.

So I will make lemonade, however begrudgingly I might do so at first. It is not in my nature to feel sorry for myself, and I’m trying not to be in that mindset, so I will keep the whining to a minimum; but there may be a few more rants as I navigate a path that is often rocky and uncomfortable. I’m trying to remind myself that this may not be forever, though right now it certainly feels that way. Of course, after eating 3/4 of a tray of brownies, I know 100% certainly for certain that gluten is a fibromyalgia trigger for me, so I can check that box.

What? You thought I learned that with the Bread Pudding Incident? Or the mini-muffins? Welcome to my definition of the Calabrese testa dura, darlings.

Photo: Kelly Cline

In my quest for deliciousness via gluten-free goodness, I’ve been experimenting with a lot of international flavors. A friend suggested I begin with the regions of the world where wheat isn’t grown, such as Thailand, and as a huge fan of Thai food, I thought this was a capital idea. One of my favorite dishes is laab, a spicy beef dish (a salad, really) which is normally made with ground pork, beef or chicken. I’m a beef girl, and prefer a sliced steak for texture, so this is my riff on the idea.

Warning: Be careful with fish sauce. The one I buy is from an Asian market, and its ingredients are simply anchovies, salt and sugar. Check the label to ensure there are no wheat derivatives.

Ingredients

1-2 tablespoons toasted Jasmine rice (instructions below)
6 oz. skirt steak
1 teaspoon olive oil
juice of 2 limes, divided
2 tablespoons fish sauce
1-2 teaspoons dried chile peppers, ground, to taste [See Chef's Note]
1 small red onion, thinly sliced
1 cup cilantro, finely chopped
1 medium head of cabbage
Mint sprigs (optional)
Additional cilantro sprigs (optional)

Special Equipment

Mortar & pestle

Preparation

For the toasted rice:
Heat a small skillet and add in rice, swirling occasionally as it begins to toast. Let the rice toast to a golden brown, then transfer to a mortar and pestle. With a twisting motion, grind the rice into very small pieces. If you pound the rice you will end up with one hell of a mess in your kitchen, so be gentle. The toasted rice adds texture to the dish, but is very crunchy, so you don’t want large pieces. Transfer to small dish and set aside.

[Chef's Note: You can grind the chile peppers in the same manner.]

For the beef:
Slice the skirt steak into very thin slices. Add to a bowl along with the juice from one lime. Stir and let sit for 5 minutes. Heat medium-sized skillet over a medium-high flame and add olive oil, heating until the oil shimmers. Add in the beef and stir until just cooked. Remove the beef and its juices to a large bowl.

Assemble the salad:
Add the onions, remaining lime juice, ground chile peppers, fish sauce, cilantro and mint leaves, and half the toasted rice. Stir until well mixed. Serve on a large plate with additional fresh herbs, if desired, and sprinkle some of the remaining toasted rice on top.

Service

Remove the outer leaves from the cabbage and cut in half. Pull away largest outer leaves and serve on a platter with additional mint and cilantro sprigs. To eat, take a large cabbage leaf and spoon some of the beef salad into the center. Add fresh mint or cilantro sprigs if desired. Wrap up into a small bundle and crunch away!

[I'm bringing this show out from the archives in memory of K. Dun Gifford, who passed away very suddenly on Sunday. I have many happy memories of working for him, and know he will be missed. This show was originally published in October 2007.]

The Mediterranean Diet is much more than a diet — it’s a lifestyle. Happily, olive oil plays a big part in that, and this week I’m talking to some experts on the subject of olive oil and living well. Join me as I speak with Dr. Fausto Luchetti and K. Dun Gifford about Sicilian olive oil, their work to advocate the Mediterranean diet, and the new Sicilian Regional Institute of Olives and Oil.

I also caught up with renowned restaurateur Tony May to talk about his adventures with other restaurant owners as they travel through Italy tasting and sipping (I need to get in on that group).

P.S. Don’t miss next week’s three-part video of our eating tour of the Lower East Side, coming out on Food Philosophy, ReMARKable Palate and All You Can Eat!

Music: Beau Hall (http://www.beaurocks.com/)

Food Philosophy is a production of the Culinary Podcast Network (http://www.culinarypodcastnetwork.com/).

While I’ve been trying to get my health in order over the past few weeks, a few people suggested that I look into gluten as a potential culprit for some of my fibromyalgia aches and pains; apparently gluten intolerance can sometimes trigger a fibro flare-up. I figured that at this point, I had little to lose, and gave it a shot. Much to my surprise, within a couple of days I was feeling far more energetic again, and the physical pain was almost nil. Dubious, I ate a few organic mini-muffins, because surely this was a fluke.

My body told me otherwise.

Concerned about my upcoming press trip to Ireland, I reached out to our hosts and asked if they might be able to accommodate a gluten-free menu. I was a bit nervous about it, as I wasn’t sure how the chefs would react — this was a culinary weekend, after all. Again, to my surprise, every one of them was happily prepared for me, and I savored delicious meals along with everyone else, with slight modifications to the relevant courses. They even brought me my own basket of gluten-free breads and crackers each night, which I’ll admit made me a little verklempt because it was so sweet.

But because there is a part of me inside that is railing against such a restriction on my livelihood, I sampled a few bites of bread pudding just before leaving the hotel in Ireland. And because sometimes it takes me a while to learn the lesson, I sat through some pretty wicked physical and stomach pains on the way home, along with a body that swelled with an additional 6 lbs. of water. That’s a lotta liquid.

So now that I’m home again, I’m looking at all of this from a big-picture perspective. And since I’ve been paying careful attention to my body’s reaction to food, I also noticed severe swelling each time I had wine during the trip, so I’m faced with some difficult choices. I’m not going to sugarcoat it — this is not happy effing news. For more than 20 years, my life and career have revolved around food and drink. Now there are whole categories that must be eliminated if I’m to be well again, and I’m struggling with it. As a very emotional person, I am trying to stem the melodrama and powerfully accept what is so in order to create a new path. I’m just not sure what that is yet.

It does make me very happy and relieved to see the number of gluten-free products out there, and so far the going has been quite easy in terms of finding things to eat — even in airports. I’m learning how to eat and not be ravenous in between meals, and am enjoying some gorgeous seasonal flavors. But I would cut a bitch for a slice of freshly-baked artisan bread. Thankfully, I’m not much of a sweets eater, so the prospect of limited desserts doesn’t bother me much (and foie gras creme brulee is gluten-free, praise the gods). The wine problem, however, troubles me intensely. I’m not sure what’s happening there, so I’ll table it until I get the rest of my system in order, but inside me there is a little girl in pigtails and Mary Janes throwing a complete hissy fit.

There have been moments over the past few weeks when I’ve been willing to trade just about any other illness for this one — for something not food-related. However, that kind of thinking isn’t going to do me much good, and irrational is not my preferred state of being. I’ve found some fantastic resources thanks to people like Gluten-Free Girl, Celiac Teen and my Twitter pals, and I’m trying to go a step at a time so as not to be overwhelmed. In fact, I was quite fine with it until today, as it was all theoretical until The Bread Pudding Incident. Now reality is setting in, so I’ll put on my big girl pants and learn the new set of rules.

The toughest part career-wise is that I now have to ask if I can be accommodated for every invitation I receive to a press luncheon, cocktail event or tasting. I’m that girl. Wine tasting events? I can’t even go there in my head right now. We get at least 10 invitations a week to things.

But for now I’ll take a deep breath and focus on the good stuff, and be thankful that I’ve experienced some of the best there is to be had in fine cuisine and wines from around the world. It’s more than some have in a lifetime, and for that I am grateful.

I’m also thankful to you for being here as I walk along this new road. You’ve been wonderfully supportive and helpful, and I can’t thank you enough for that. So I guess we’ll take this little walk together.

Greetings from the Emerald Isle! Chef Mark and I are once again running amok throughout the countryside to bring you our favorite flavors, colors and delights from the other side of the pond. We’re spending a few days in the lovely County Kerry, with its ever-varying landscape of craggy hills and verdant hues. We’re here to participate in a Culinary Celebration of Ireland weekend at the Park Hotel Kenmare featuring some of Ireland’s most renowned chefs, including the hotel’s Head Chef Mark Johnston, who is joined by Dublin restaurateurs Ross Lewis of Chapter One and Derry Clarke of L’Ecrivain, as well as Mickael Viljanen of Gregans Castle in County Clare. As always, we’ll have audio, video and photos of the experience, but here’s a little rundown of what’s on the agenda:

Tonight: “One by Three” dinner featuring 1 Ingredient, 3 Interpretations, 9 Courses and 1 Result

Tomorrow:
Chef Mark will hit the Kerry Way trail on his way to a cheese tasting at the top of the hill, while I’ll be sampling a variety of the hotel’s SAMAS Deluxe Destination Spa offerings. We then have a food and heritage walk of the town of Kenmare, then a whiskey tasting and a surprise dinner menu from the chefs.

Sunday we’ll depart for home!

On our way here, we took a day to wind our way through County Clare to see some of the spectacular views, and enjoyed a night at the Moy House hotel in Lahinch, near the Cliffs of Moher. We both fell in love with the Moy House, which was wonderfully elegant with nary a hint of pretense, so our stay was relaxing and comfortable. We woke to views of the ocean and those famous cliffs, so it was hard to leave! Photos of our mini-tour, followed by dinner crafted by Chef Daniel O’Brien, are in my Facebook album as well as Chef Mark’s.

We’ll have more on that County Clare visit, along with Chef Mark’s interview with Chef Daniel, in the coming days, but we wanted to give you a sneak peek from the road. We hope you’ll follow along with us as Chef Mark revisits his favorite Irish tastes and sights, and as I experience my first (but definitely not last!).

I am delighted to be crafting this blog post from my new MacBook Pro, thanks to you. I’m still a bit overwhelmed by all the love that has been shown to me in the past couple of weeks, and though it might sound strange, it was almost worth the price of what I’ve gone through to be sitting here so filled with gratitude. On that very difficult Monday, I never imagined that in little more than a week, I’d be up and running again.

But the best part? Every piece of media I create on this new machine — from blog posts to videos, podcasts and even business proposals — will be created in a state of thankfulness. Every key stroke is a reminder of you.

I’m very interested to see how this affects the dynamic of my work, as I was already in love with what I’m doing. But now I know that you dig it, too, so it takes the experience from the creator’s point of view to a different level. I’m looking forward to the next part of the journey.

So now, because of your help, we can get back to the good stuff. Like food, wellness, sex on a plate, and this magnificent exploration of the senses — which we’re all doing together. Thank you for being here.

With gratitude,
Jennifer

Photo: Kelly Cline

In what has been one of the most trying weeks of my life, I’ve learned more about the goodness of people than I had ever hoped to find.

When I began to talk about my struggle with fibromyalgia last week, I did it in the hopes that someone out there might have a better method for dealing with it than the path I’ve taken, and I asked for help. What I got in return was a truckload of e-mails offering support, thanking me for putting a spotlight on the disease, and helpful suggestions for managing it from those in the trenches with me. What really blew me away, however, was that within hours, I had a doctor offering to help me and get to the root of what was happening with my body. We’re now working on it.

I was so excited, because what really hit home was the value of the relationships I’ve made through my food and philosophical meanderings. Turns out people were listening, after all.

Then this Monday morning, while I was out for a meeting, my apartment was robbed. The bastards took my laptop — the source of my livelihood — along with a precious family heirloom, and rifled through everything I own. Even my panty drawer. Worse, my mother was visiting this week, and narrowly missed walking in on them in the act.

Enraged and needing to vent , I took to Twitter and Facebook to let off some steam about what was happening.  And as my world was spinning off its axis, a sea of friends, family, and “strangers” were there to offer support, share in my anger and offer solutions to help me through one of my worst moments. Offers to borrow laptops came from all over the country.

I put the word “strangers” in quotes because for me, the people with whom I interact online — this means you — are not strangers to me. You are as real as if you were sitting next to me having a face-to-face conversation.

A stranger does not do what superhero Shea Levy did. Of his own volition, because he values me not only as an online face, but as a human being, he set up a donation fund to help me buy a new laptop. In two days he has raised more than $1200. So now instead of panicking, I am within reach of being able to purchase new equipment and get back to work.

There are not words to describe how it feels to be on the receiving end of such kindness. With the help of people like Chef Mark (from whose old PC I’m writing this), Diana Hsieh, Eric Zinn, my intrepid editorial assistant Madeline Shores and countless others, Shea and everyone participating has turned a moment of personal disaster into a poignant moment in which to witness human greatness.

For those who are naysayers of the value of social media — that it doesn’t achieve any results, and that it’s a pointless waste of time — I beg to differ.

Whatever the technology, it is nothing without a human being behind it to keep the system going. Twitter, Facebook and other online outlets are about PEOPLE. People who care, people who help a friend — or “stranger” — in need.

I am touched beyond measure that I’ve brought enough value to the lives of others that they’ve offered such help in my time of crisis. There have been many times over the past year when I almost threw in the towel, wondering why I was struggling to get my message out there, and whether anyone was listening. Whether it was all worth it.

Turns out the answer is yes. And so with your help I now have options I didn’t have two days ago, and can focus on getting back to work instead of focusing on what happened. That will be my repayment to you.

And for those naysayers of one philosopher named Ayn Rand, who is often vilified for seemingly promoting self-absorption and no concern for others, I’d like to point out that the first responders in this situation were those who share in my admiration of her ideas and philosophy. Those selfish, greedy people (and I mean this, in its proper definition) changed my life this week. They took action not out of pity, but because I and my work represent value to them in some form. That feels so much better than pity.

To every person who has donated, spread the word, offered to lend me equipment, hugs or anything else I need right now: Thank you. For being the kinds of human beings with whom it is a pleasure to share my passion and my life’s work. Without you, my life would be far less inspiring and fulfilling, and for that you have my unending gratitude.

You might have noticed I’ve included a few non-food items lately. That’s because my life is about more than just food; I take great delight in sharing all of my passions, and most importantly, in learning about yours.

It doesn’t matter if you are an engineer, an elementary school teacher, a massage therapist or a chef — your passion sets mine on fire.

I’ve had a lot of those conversations this week. I met a new friend, Nancy Ricci, whose enthusiasm for knitting and appreciation of aesthetics jumps off the page of her blog, Getting Purly with It.  After our conversation she reflected on Our Ability to Inspire others by sharing, and how it’s taking her goals to the next level. In just the past few days, people have communicated with me about their desire to help others achieve wellness, change the educational system, and bring a new level of consciousness to parenting.

My dear friend Kelly Cline‘s brilliant photography is now appearing on Burt’s Bees displays nationwide, and a bunch of my other gal pals are on their own mission to embrace health and wellness, with a call to GTFU. Their excitement is kicking my own butt into gear. And I’ve lost count of the number of times Chef Mark inspires me daily, taking our ideas to the next level and bringing our vision to life while being a true and supportive friend.

This is what life is all about, people. Getting UP and making something HAPPEN.

It gets my emotions so fired up that I’m sitting here a little bit misty.

What makes your soul smile? What makes you jump out of bed in the morning ready to kick ass and take names? If you’re still searching for it, can I — and this magnificent group of people — help you find it?

Photo: Kelly Cline

I tend to keep pretty quiet about the fact that I have fibromyalgia. It is likely due to my stubborn sense of bravado (nothing to see here!), that it’s just something to suck up and deal with, but lately I’ve found that sharing my experience has helped me to find new resources with which to manage what has become more than a nuisance.

The disease itself can be quite insidious. Things first appeared to go awry when I was in college, when I slept through most of my first winter break. I found it odd, but chalked it up to depression from losing my dad and mental fatigue from my first semester in a competitive business school. Upon returning to classes, my body seemed to readjust, and any fatigue was taken in stride as part of the life of a college student.

But god, did I hate getting up in the morning. Worse yet, I would “sleep-talk” and have full conversations with no recollection, so if I woke up and found my car missing, I’d later find out I gave my brother permission to borrow it (confirmed by my mother). Who knows how much money I lent out. I dreaded having a corporate life, because my body just did not seem to like that whole 9-to-5 thing, so I knew I needed to find a lifestyle with some flexibility. As it turned out, I was an entrepreneur at heart anyway, so yay for the universe aligning.

I did go the corporate route for a short time, however, which ultimately led to the disease appearing in full bloom. Circa spring 2001, my office was located right in the heart of midtown Manhattan, and it was the happiest time in my life. I was traveling to Paris for business, eating in the best restaurants, and having a grand old time with some of the biggest food superstars in the world. Then the world changed.

Obviously, post-9/11 New York was a tough climate in which to work — stress levels were unbelievably high, and those of us traveling in and out of Grand Central had the joy of an occasional evacuation to go with the evening commute. I found that my thinking was a little foggy, and I was feeling achy, so I went to the doctor to see if it was the flu. He told me I was too stressed out, and that it was all in my head. Undaunted, I made him test me for everything from lupus to thyroid disease. Nada.

Around Christmas time I noticed that I was feeling unwell most of the time, and one evening as I shopped for gifts, my legs suddenly gave out. I managed to get myself home, but spent the entirety of Christmas Eve on my mother’s couch, unable to move. Feeling terrified, I rested up and proceeded to ignore the problem, hoping it would just go away.

But when my brain began to fail me, alarm bells started going off. My brain was the one thing I had always counted on, and suddenly I couldn’t remember the simplest of tasks. Like a critical conference call with the international division heads of my company — of which I was one. Oops. Realizing I could no longer ignore said problem, and riddled with physical pain, I called an orthopedist.

On September 11, 2002, this orthopedist listened to my symptoms. She was particularly intrigued by the sleep-talking, and mentioned that I probably had a number of sleep disorders. Awesome. After touching some very tender points on my upper body, she looked me in the eye and said, “This is easy. You have fibromyalgia.”

Sorry, what?

I felt simultaneous elation and depression. At last, this damn thing had a name — but no cure. And I had…a disease. One with barely any history of medical research, placed in the seemingly “random” category of illnesses that can’t be fully defined. The doctor started me on a tricyclic anti-depressant (Elavil) to regulate my sleep cycle, and it was as if my life were transformed overnight. No pain, clear head — all good. I struggled with the idea of being medicated this way, however. I’m not a pill-popper, and the idea of being on an anti-depressant made my skin crawl.

I soon found that if I worked out regularly, I could wean myself off the pills and take the natural route, which was preferable, and it worked well for a few years — until I started what is now the Culinary Media Network. Working out was replaced by hundreds of hours at my desk, and the pain set in. Sometimes I would wake up unable to stand, and would crawl to the kitchen to pop a few Aleve and get back to my desk, body screaming for mercy. I knew this could not go on, and once again returned to the medicine — only now, it didn’t work so well. Eff.

For the past few years I’ve been doing a lot of international travel, and keeping the insane hours of the entrepreneur, and every once in a while I pay dearly for it. I try to keep the stress at bay, as it is the biggest trigger, but sometimes I lose that game of chess. The fluctuations in the economy over the past year have not helped, so I once again tried returning to the medication to get the symptoms under control. It set off six months of insomnia. Six. Months.

And though much work has been accomplished thanks to said insomnia, I cannot begin to describe what it feels like to have my entire spine in a vice grip, where even a bra strap is a source of agony, and where it perpetually feels like I’m coming down with the flu. Where hugs hurt. And I really, really like hugs. Poor Chef Mark has had to experience it in real-time, where I can forget things from one minute to the next, and become a raving bitch at the drop of a hat.

So now I’m committed to finding a natural solution, because I could go on playing through the pain, but to me that is not an optimal existence — for me or those around me. The symptoms tend to appear in cycles, and sometimes I can go for months with no problems, but there has got to be a better way. I’ve resumed yoga, am heading back to the gym this week, and have made significant changes to my diet, but I don’t want to leave any stone unturned. I will make myself better…or die trying. No matter what the result, I will continue to live my life at full-throttle, but it would be great if I could do that with a bit more physical comfort and mental acuity. And no way in hell am I giving up the hugs.

If you are a fibromyalgia sufferer (or play one on TV), what natural methods have worked for you?

It’s no secret that being a mother is not at the top of my priority list. Given the fact that most of my plants are bent over, begging for attention and care, this seems like a good plan. But it doesn’t mean I don’t melt have an affinity for my 9 nieces, nephews and great-nephews. At times like this, when I’ve been working almost ’round the clock for weeks, and could really use a hug from a little person, I miss them terribly. I feel like I’m missing important stuff, like my godson’s touchdowns, or the twins’ wrestling matches and fivehundredwordaminute stories. Smiles and giggles. OK, and yelling and screaming — but that’s how they’re built. I’ve learned to accept it.

When I learned about Melanie Notkin’s site, Savvy Auntie, I thought, Hey, I’m not the only one who feels this way! Melanie has created a community where we can seek and offer advice/ideas, and a place where we can share our experience from this very unique perspective. I revel in being an aunt because these are children I adore and sometimes crave, but I get to give them back. It’s like a rental car, but way better.

My (non)kids range from 1 1/2 to 31 years old, and I’ve been around them as long as they’ve been around. Fed them, changed them, walked the floors with them, helped them learn to read. I’ve had all of them with me in the kitchen at some point, sniffing cardamom, rolling meatballs or trying to pronounce “gastronomy.”

And let us not forget the one-liners, such as Zachary’s famous quip, upon being asked to wash his hands before we baked: “We need to wash our hands so the bread doesn’t taste like ‘hand,’ right Jen?”

But most importantly, because I don’t have my own children to distract me, I have the opportunity to be there for them in a different way: As a helping hand, or someone to listen if they need advice. I live for this. That I can contribute to their happiness, and help create who they are as human beings, is worth every minute of my time. I love them ridiculously and endlessly.

Are you an auntie (or an uncle) like me? Do you revel in the rental kid? Do tell, especially if you’ve got some good one-liners.

I recently started writing for Aspire NJ, a luxury real estate magazine, and when they asked me to find out what was happening in the world of kitchen design, I felt like a kid on Christmas Eve.

Kitchens excite me. Really well-designed ones titillate me. There is something luscious in the feel of a smooth counter, and a stove with 17,000 BTU burners elicits that *rowr* inside. Needless to say, this assignment was a favorite.

Not surprisingly, I found that designers and architects were wholeheartedly embracing the “green” kitchen — with lots of caveats. I also learned that people are beginning to incorporate the living space right into the kitchen, to create more of a centralized location for family activities.

Viking came up with a luxury kitchen design that suits this need perfectly, with sleek lines, stainless steel finishes…and couches. I explored their new line at an event in the Food Network studio kitchens, and fell in love with the cabinetry. I’m a sucker for good handles.

You can read the full article, The Evolution of Kitchen Design, at Aspire NJ.

During my trip to Rias Baixas, Spain, our gaggle of journalists spent an evening in the dining room of Chef José González-Solla, owner of Casa Solla in Pontevedra. We were in for a delightful interpretation of Galician cuisine, many of which came with a variety of textures, flavors and colors. After dinner I sat down with the chef to talk about his food philosophy and the way he plays with his food. You can see the photos of our various courses below.

www.restaurantesolla.com

Two exciting announcements this week: Our new Knife Skills 101 course is live in our new CMN Academy, so learn the correct techniques (along with some tips) from Chef Mark. We’ve also added Brian Franklin’s DoubleShot Coffee Company coffees to our Gilded Fork Boutique, so oh my, yes, get to sipping.

And in the world of rants, I share my thoughts on the latest piece of inane legislature to be introduced: A ban on salt. You read that correctly.

Music: Beau Hall (www.beaurocks.com), Kevin MacLeod (www.incompetech.com)

Food Philosophy is a production of the Culinary Media Network
(www.culinarymedianetwork.com)

Photos from our dinner:

“Gin & Tonic” and Olive chips with anchovy paste

Tomato confit with parmesan foam

Potato foam over a roasted onion

Navaja (razorneck clam) with lemon cream

Croqueta cream with shrimp

Caballa (mackerel) in sea salt

Mero en escabeche (grouper in escabeche)

Squab (pigeon) on cornbread crumble with spinach

“Queso de País” cow’s milk cheese

Accompaniments for the cheese course

Almonds four ways (cake, ice cream, cream, toasted/crushed)

Chocolate & strawberries

During my trip to Rias Baixas, I snuck into the kitchen with Chef José González-Solla, owner of Casa Solla in Pontevedra, to watch him prepare our main course. This chef likes to play with his food, and he treated us to an inspirational twist on traditional Galician flavors.

You can also listen to my interview with Chef Gonzalez-Solla on the next Food Philosophy audio podcast. He is a delightfully sweet human being, and we had such fun as we talked about playing with our food!

www.restaurantesolla.com

A production of the Culinary Media Network.
www.culinarymedianetwork.com

Travel & accommodations provided by Wines from Spain and the Rias Baixas wine region.

First they came for the foie gras.

Now, the self-appointed police of all things have decided to attack…salt. Yes, salt. That mainstay of cooking, that critical ingredient to every baker on the planet, and flavor enhancer to every dish that comes out of a kitchen, professional or otherwise.

Brooklyn Assemblyman Felix Ortiz, potentially the most unintelligent man related to food (or government) in any form, proposes in bill A. 10129 that “No owner or operator of a restaurant in this state shall use salt in any form in the preparation of any food for consumption by customers of such restaurant, including food prepared to be consumed on the premises of such restaurant or off of such premises.”

Mr. Ortiz is single-handedly trying to destroy the restaurant industry by “acting for the public good.” I won’t even get into what he’s trying to do to our palates.

What Mr. Ortiz fails to understand is that salt is an essential component of cooking and flavor enhancement. In baking, it is a chemical necessity. But such things are irrelevant to legislators of his ilk, who are trying to save us from ourselves. Alas, this is simply the latest in the government’s attempt to tell us what we can’t do, and to regulate our health by means of being an evil Nanny.

Chefs are rightfully up in arms, but it is we, the people, who need to take action. Many will shake their heads and wonder why the government is doing such a thing, but then they’ll go back to working 60-hour weeks and forget that our lives and liberties are eroding before our very eyes, as we anxiously await the next episode of Desperate Housewives.

We have become so lazy and complacent as a culture that the government now finds it appropriate to introduce such measures, so the blame rests solidly on our shoulders. We did this. And we are the only ones who can undo it. Lest you think I’m being hyperbolic, I encourage you to brush up on American history, and pay attention to the evolution of the Nanny State.

If you are outraged by the actions of Mr. Ortiz — and I hope you are, I encourage you to start writing, start calling, and let the New York State legislature know that this bill is not only a waste of taxpayer dollars, but an infringement on our rights of the most insidious nature.

Now, some of you might say “but too much salt is unhealthy!” I have news for you: Firstly, if a chef is using that much salt, he isn’t going to be in business for long, because his guests won’t eat his food. It won’t taste good. Secondly, too much of anything is unhealthy, and that’s where we come in: We are the ones consuming, so we must pay attention to what’s going in our mouths. Eat too much salt over a lifetime and it may have adverse effects — but we are the ones holding the fork.

If the idea of the government rationing your food makes you bristle, recognize that much worse measures are not far away. Unless we act now. A coalition called My Food, My Choice has gotten together to fight such inanities — I’m signing up right this minute.

New York State Assembly (look up your assemblyman): http://assembly.state.ny.us/

Felix Ortiz
E-mail contact

District Office
404 55th Street
Brooklyn, NY 11220
718-492-6334

Albany Office
LOB 627
Albany, NY 12248
518-455-3821

This Apple advertisement came out when I was getting my first “grownup” business off the ground. I was living in Boston, struggling through the often overwhelming days of startup, and here came Think Different.

It hit me so hard that I froze on my couch and burst into tears. If there was ever a moment that a brand had made me its bitch, that was it. I had the text version of the ad posted on the wall until it yellowed and curled.

Yesterday Chris Brogan‘s weekly dose of genius hit my inbox, and it spoke to this very theme. There isn’t a week where I don’t get some kind of insight or tremendous value from Chris’ newsletter — even when it’s just a reminder that it’s OK to be a misfit. Good deals are a rare find (it’s free), so if you don’t sign up, well, that’s just silly.

If you are one of those crazy ones, and you have a vision that makes you burn with passion, I salute you and everything you represent in this world. It is you to whom I look for inspiration on my dark days, and you to whom I raise my glass on the bright ones. What would this planet be without those who have said “I can do it better!” or “This could use a tweak.” Or even more poignant, “Let’s throw out the model and start over. The old one is broken.”

Those are the words of the heroic, the courageous — and the ones who keep me going. Thank you.

During one of my trips to Halifax, Nova Scotia (one of my favorite places on the planet), I savored a late breakfast in one of those quintessential used book stores with tasty scones and perfectly brewed tea. The store was literally stuffed with books, some dating back to the early 20th Century.

As I perused one of the stacks, a title screamed at me from its humble placement: The Sensuous Woman

Written by “J” in 1969, the back cover had the following review from Playboy:

The author of this book is not especially pretty.

Before “J” became “The Sensuous Woman” she went through life unnoticed.

It’s very different now. “J” is called “ravishingly sexy” by some of the world’s most exciting males. They describe her as “all woman, maddeningly exciting, a modern Aphrodite, a perfect bed-made and life-mate.”

Now “J” reveals her secret, step-by-step program that allows every woman to free her body, train her senses, and realize her tremendous feminine capacity for giving and receiving pleasure.

“J” is unmistakably female; no man could possibly be so exquisitely knowing about how a woman can make the most of what she’s got.

Have you ever wondered what it was like to stumble upon a parallel universe? That moment was something like it, I think.

After perusing the book’s contents, which expounded on the delights of masturbation, training the senses, sexual exploration and the like, I tried to imagine how this must have gone over in the late 60s. It was a #1 bestseller, so clearly women were aching for some kind of knowledge to break the monotony of sex-for-procreation and craft a more pleasurable life for themselves. The fact that “J” took on such a daring topic gave me a thrill I rarely experience. Oh yes, this book was coming home with me.

As a product of the late 70s, it is a bit foreign to imagine what it would be like to consider marriage solely for procreation and sex as a necessary chore. Happily, Garrity focuses on the importance of bringing pleasure to the self, and why it’s important for a woman to feel that on the inside in order to reflect it on the outside. The back cover copy may seem to be an effort at sensationalism, but its words are truthful: When you radiate sensuality, those extra 5 lbs. really don’t make a difference. If they do, that partner isn’t going to be very good in bed anyway, as the focus is not on the pleasure, but on the formula. Yawn.

It’s as if “J” is inside my head, explaining how we must awaken our senses to ignite higher levels of bodily pleasure. She gets it. She got it. I love her.

Incidentally, “J” now appears comfortable going by her full name, Joan Garrity, which appears in the updated version from 1982. I need to get my hands on that copy, too, so I can compare notes.

You might be wondering if I’m going to make any food references in this post. Why yes, in fact, I am. The Sensuous Woman has a section on awakening the senses, and it’s serendipitous that I read it last night, as her process is very close to what I envisioned when designing my new workshop Awakening the Mental Mouth™.  In fact, Chef Mark and I are crafting a two-parter out of the idea: In the first workshop, I will take you through a series of exercises and explorations to awaken your palate, hone your senses and help you learn more about your taste preferences. In the second workshop, Cooking with the Senses, he will show you how to take those flavors and create customized goodies for yourself, from marinades to spice rubs and sauces.

So while my exercises are focused on the sensuality of food, and Garrity’s on the sexuality of the body, they both have the same root: In order to experience the highest levels of pleasure, we must first awaken the pleasure receptors. By focusing on — and exploring — the self.

Want to come and play?

Do you hear that? The first birds have come out of hiding, and their gentle melodies offer a counterpoint to the drip, drip, drip of melting snow. That means we are almost to the end of what feels like the longest winter in history. Those first few 50-degree days are a vicious tease, however, because we know they aren’t yet here to stay.

My palate gets a little bit excited when this happens, as the yearning commences for the baby vegetables of spring, and the vivid hues of new flowers in bloom. And yet we must wait just a bit longer. Needless to say, I’m firing up the grill today, because I simply must have a taste of meat cooked on the fire to soothe my inner cavewoman.

What do you crave on a day like today? Is spring tickling your tongue? The other night I unabashedly ate 3 bowls of salad because the crunch compelled me to keep going back for more.

What meal do you most look forward to in the coming warmer days?

We continue our exploration of Toronto’s Green Barn Market. Chef Mark speaks with Mathieu McFadden from Chocosol Chocolate, a “Pedal powered & Horizontal-trade” chocolate company, which sources all their chocolate direct from growers in Mexico and Central America, and processes it by hand in Ontario.

A production of the Culinary Media Network.
www.culinarymedianetwork.com

Travel and accommodation provided by Tourism Toronto. All opinions expressed are those of the participants.

Six years ago today I experienced one of those moments that will stand out as a big red dot on the timeline of my life. I had just finished my stint launching the Ecole des Chefs program for Relais & Chateaux, and found myself at an odd crossroads: How could I possibly top an international gig working with chefs like Thomas Keller, Guy Savoy and Daniel Boulud? I was actually afraid that my career had peaked early. What now?

I looked at the laptop and tray table before me, and wondered if a career in food writing was the next step. I was hesitant — I knew it wouldn’t pay very well, but I had started this thing called “blogging” a couple of weeks before to test the waters and develop my writing style. My first newsletter had 50 or so subscribers, and I knew every one of them personally. I signed up for a recreational cooking class to get my hands back to work in the kitchen, and hoped that something in the course of all this would inspire me; otherwise I’d need to look at a big career shift.

I quickly got antsy — it’s not in my nature to sit and write all the time. I knew I’d be bored out of my mind soon enough, so I had a fleeting thought: Why not turn this blog into a little food magazine? I knew that its name, Gastronomic Meditations, was a bit confusing for people (sometimes they asked if I was a doctor…sigh), but I pushed forward anyway, knowing that the people who “got it” would continue to get it, and we could explore together. I somehow convinced Kelly Cline, Alder Yarrow and Donna Desfor to play along, and we forged ahead. A few months in, I heard from Go Daddy’s marketing director, who asked if I’d like to be in one of their new customer-focused commercials, and the site got nominated for a World Food Media Award, so I thought hey, this is pretty neat. It seemed like things were off to a decent start.

Not long after, I got an e-mail from a friend of mine: There’s someone I think you should meet. His name is Mark, and he’s a chef. That someone was creating these newfangled things called podcasts. Chef Mark Tafoya is now the person with whom I’ve traveled the world, expanded the vision of what things are possible in this little space called “new media,” and founded the companies that have brought all of our ideas together in one place. In the course of that history there have been some epic arguments and differences of opinion, but when Chef Mark and I find ourselves in that place, we always come back to the root of why we created this: Together we are a powerful team of creativity and passion, and the love and respect we have for that dynamic — and for each other — is what has given us the wherewithal to stay in it and move the dream forward. I likely wouldn’t be sitting here right now if it weren’t for him.

As I sat at that tray table six years ago, I had no inclination of what was ahead. Traveling the world was a goal, being on camera was a pipe dream (and a scary one), and Twitter was something birds did to annoy me.

But here we are. There are six years of our creativity for you to explore on what started as that food blog, but is now the Culinary Media Network — a living travelogue of our adventures from farm to plate, around the globe, with articles, recipes and audio/video programming. This blog, Food Philosophy, is more of my own personal exploration of the connections between food and sensuality, but you’ll see that the posts date back to ’04, so nothing has been lost along the way. At CMN we’re also in the thick of creating how-to courses for our new online cooking academy, and there’s even a Gilded Fork: Entertaining at Home cookbook for you to explore those ideas in tactile form (The Gilded Fork was our second name, pre-network). The years have gone by in a blur, and the ride has been very rocky at times, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

There have been recent, familiar moments, however, when I’ve found myself facing a question: What now? Now that I’ve flown all over the planet eating, drinking and learning, how can I possibly top it?

Only now, I have a better way to answer that question, which is in the form of a plaque my sister gave me for Christmas. Its call to action is one that will shape the next six years:

Think big. If that doesn’t work, think bigger!

Thank you for being here to be part of the journey with us, and most importantly, for your words of encouragement each time we take on a new challenge and reach a new benchmark. You are what makes the ride worthwhile.

If you’ve followed my musings for any length of time, you probably know that I’m a first-generation American. As such, I’ve made it a mission to learn as much as I can about my family pre-emigration, so the past few years have entailed a lot of research. My mother’s Scottish side has been quite easy to trace, as our clan (Forbes) is a prominent one with a well-documented history. On my father’s Italian side, however, the road has been an emotional one, and at times quite frustrating.

I find that you never really recover from losing a parent; it simply becomes part of the fabric of your history, and at times that material can feel a bit delicate. My father died suddenly when I was 18 years old, at a time in my life when I was absorbed in college and building my future, so I didn’t have a whole lot of interest in his history. The Calabrese are also known for their hard-headedness (“testa dura”), a trait I clearly inherited, so we weren’t always the best of friends.

Now that I’m older, and traveling the world exploring food and culture, it’s as if there’s a giant question mark floating above my head; since my father isn’t here to answer my myriad questions, I’m on my own to find out more about his homeland. Oddly enough, I’ve been to almost every other region of Italy, yet I seem to be saving Calabria. Perhaps because I’m trying to prepare myself.

In the interim, I’m happy to say that the rest of the world has also, at last, taken note of Calabrian cuisine, so I’ve been able to sample some of it from American soil while gathering the information to make my pilgrimage.

On the map of Italy, Calabria is the “toe” of the boot and home to the renowned bergamot orange, used in so many perfumes, and of course as the main accent in Earl Grey tea. Calabria’s landscape is lush, and was highly prized by the ancient Greeks as well as the broad collection of invaders who chose to call the region home throughout its colorful history.

As part of Vino 2010, Italy’s showcase of its regional winemakers, the Italian Trade Commission and the Region of Calabria held a winemaker’s dinner enabling me to explore how Calabrian wines were paired with its foods. The meal was prepared by guest chef Vito Gnazzo of Il Gattopardo restaurant.

During the welcome reception, we were served some of my favorite flavors, like Bruschetta con N’duja, the spicy sausage so indicative of Calabria. We also had Piccoli Peperoni Ripieni di Tonno (peppers filled with tuna) and Arancini di Riso (rice balls filled with veal, peas and Pecorino cheese).

When we sat down to dinner, our antipasto was a welcoming remembrance of childhood: Carciofi e Patate in Tortiera. Though this particular combination paired braised baby artichokes and potatoes, when I was growing up we often had a variation of this with eggplant, peppers and potatoes (which I featured on the Culinary Media Network as Serafino’s Sofrito). I could see this was going to be an evening of comfort.

The first course took the memories a step further with Lagane e Ceci, a thick chickpea soup with pasta. The dish had a fantastic peppery kick so familiar in Calabrian cuisine, and was paired with a big red wine, Ippolito 1845 Ciro Rosso “Liber Pater” DOC 2007. Ippolito is the oldest winery in Calabria, and this particular wine had one spicy profile. I think I may have preferred with the soup with a contrasting wine rather than another layer of spice, but I would love this wine served with beef.

The ever-familiar dried cod appeared in our second course as Lo Stocco di Mammola, a cod fish salad with parsley and extra virgin olive oil from Calabria. This dish was bright and sunny, just like its home region, and would be perfect on a summer afternoon. It was paired with Statti Lamezia Greco Bianco IGT 2008.

After a lemon sorbetto to cleanse the palate, we moved on to Cosciotto d’Agnello Lardellato al Polline di Finocchio Selvatico, a lamb shank scented with wild fennel pollen. (I do love the word finocchio, incidentally, as it is a perfect representation of Italian’s melodic lingual expression.) This mild dish was paired with Cantina Val di Neto Rosso “Arke” IGT 2005.

To cap the evening, we finished with a lightly sweet dish that finished things on a lovely, mellow note: Panzarotti Ripieni di Ricotta con Gelato al Miele, a crispy, flaky pastry filled with ricotta and served with honey ice cream.

This was paired with Amaro, perhaps the most indicative drink of Calabria. This rich, sweet dessert wine, F.lli Caffo Vecchio Amaro del Capo, added the perfect ending to a memorable evening.

There is much to come as I share my discoveries of the region of Calabria, but if you’d like to learn a bit more for yourself, you can visit ItalianMade.com to learn about all of Italy’s wines and regional specialties. Many thanks to the Italian Trade Commission, the Region of Calabria and Chef Gnazzo for enabling me to get a taste of it for myself, and for the comfort it brought me.

That is not a call to action. Though I suppose it could be, as I likely wouldn’t throw you out of bed.

My friends over at Toy with Me, a delightfully sassy sex blog, asked me to come up with a menu idea for Valentine’s Day seduction. As I’m not one to say no to such an opportunity, I suggested a menu from our Gilded Fork: Entertaining at Home cookbook along with some thoughts on the why behind the sexy (read: more rants on aphrodisiacs).

Since my mission encompasses doing my part to ensure the people of Earth enjoy better food and better sex, I’m delighted to be part of their efforts toward improving the better sex portion of the equation.

Read here: Food Porn – The Ultimate Foreplay

Here we go. It’s almost Valentine’s Day, so expect to see no less than 20 articles on the topic of aphrodisiacs and how they can improve your love life. Per the usual, I call B.S.

Yes, there are ways in which food chemically affects our senses, and these facts have been scientifically proven in a number of studies. Hot peppers do make our blood run faster, men and women are aroused by certain smells, etc. However — and this is the very premise of my work — the mind is what drives the senses at their roots. If you aren’t sexy between the ears first, by knowing yourself, your mind, your body and its reactions, the food can only do so much. If you are a sensually-repressed individual, a bite of avocado is not going to suddenly transform you into Casanova. Sorry to disappoint.

The New York Times has an article today on the subject, and my favorite quote was from none other than Dr. Ruth: “The most important sex organ lies between the ears.”

Instead of trying to achieve nirvana via the fig, how about via your soul? What awakens it? What is your approach to life? Your philosophy?

If you pull those things into alignment, and understand who you are at your core, the food then becomes a delicious accompaniment to life itself, where beauty is more vivid, sex more fulfilling — and the senses the catalyst for a journey of satiety in new forms.

The unencumbered mind and spirit provide the best aphrodisiacs I’ve found to date.

Photo: Kelly Cline

It’s been a rough day. I’ve spent months working with my team on the Sex on a Plate event concept, trying to bring it to life in a way that was compelling, satiating, and generally a blast. All the pieces seemed to fit together nicely, so I decided to try my hand in NYC first. It’s my backyard, I have dear friends at the Roger Smith Hotel, and it seemed feasible to pull this off as a launch to my series of Sex on a Plate events. Ambitiously (perhaps overly so), I thought we could offer a compelling alternative on one of the most Hallmark romantic holidays of them all.

I was mistaken. Even with a crackerjack team, a talented chef and a price of $85 for 7+ exquisite courses with wines and tequila, we couldn’t sell enough tickets, so today we had to cancel the Valentine’s Day event. Interestingly, there are, at this moment, other cities wanting Sex on a Plate, ready to put the pieces in motion.

So what went wrong in NYC? Well, I think it might have been a perfect convergence of not enough lead time to market between Christmas and Valentine’s Day, a non-existent advertising budget, not enough outreach, and too much else going on here that day. A perfect storm of fail.

I’ll consider it my tuition. The next one will be planned much more carefully, with more lead time and a lot more momentum. If you build it, they will come — but only if you build it well.

And so we will begin again. I know the concept is a worthy one, as enough of you have said so — sometimes very loudly! — that I believe you. And you believe in what I’m doing here, which is more important — and why I refuse to let this idea fizzle away. Instead it will be refined, re-mixed and relaunched.

Thank you for being a part of my rollercoaster ride. You make it worthwhile. Stay tuned.

Chef Mark and I head to Ontario to taste the culinary delights of Toronto.

From the St. Lawrence Market to Chinatown, Greek Town, the Green Barns Market, and a slew of local restaurants, Toronto shows off its love of locally-grown produce and artisanal ingredients.

A production of the Culinary Media Network.
www.culinarymedianetwork.com

Travel and accommodation provided by Tourism Toronto. All opinions expressed are those of the participants.

Sex on a Plate has unfortunately been cancelled. Please check back for updates on events in other cities. Details coming ASAP. Thank you!

Photo: Kelly Cline

Today is Ayn Rand’s 105th birthday. I wish she were alive right now to see how many hundreds of thousands of people are reading her books. And so she could say “I told you so.”

For her Centennial in 2005, I wrote a piece for the Atlasphere to toast this prolific thinker. I’d like to share it with you today.

P.S. If you happen to have a copy of our Gilded Fork: Entertaining at Home cookbook, you’ll note she’s name-checked in the acknowledgments. If it weren’t for Rand’s work, I might never have met one Chef Mark Tafoya.

*****

Today we toast the centennial of a giant — in thought, character, and sense of life.

Ayn Rand has touched the lives and ignited the minds of millions of people around the globe. Her words are timeless, as are her ideals. Her implacable respect for clear thinking has encouraged others to seek truth in the world around them, and to craft lives based on a foundation of integrity, conviction, and a commitment to reason.

Rand’s moral defense of individualism and capitalism has been an inspiration to leaders in business, government, the arts, and anywhere else one can see the sparks of integrity and intelligence melded into productive action. Her celebration of the individual compelled men and women of the mind to face the gray cloud of mediocrity and say: “Not in my name.”

When I discovered her work a decade ago, I knew I had reached an important moment of truth. Her words resounded with such a powerful “Yes!” inside me that I had to know the reasons why I felt understood.

Perhaps, like me, after reading Atlas Shrugged you felt more compelled to mold the world to your own ideals; or The Fountainhead inspired you to walk a bit taller. Or maybe, as I did, you found a soul-mate in the character of Francisco d’Anconia. Such experiences often change the course of a human life.

Ayn Rand set out to spark the minds of those seeking the heroic in mankind. Her novels and non-fiction have now been embraced by three generations looking for better answers, and her ideas continue to be championed by those whose voices can be heard in academia, science, and the media.

That her books remain bestsellers more than fifty years after their publishing only underscores the depth of her impact. The rapid growth of a community like the Atlasphere, the proliferation of discussion sites across the internet, the number of books being published about Rand, and even references to her in pop culture, all demonstrate how widespread the response has been.

Her words are a call to action for those who welcome challenges and attack them with fervor. And when such mountains seem unscalable, the echo of those words provides fuel for another day:

Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark, in the hopeless swamps of the approximate, the not-quite, the not-yet, the not-at-all. Do not let the hero in your soul perish, in lonely frustration for the life you deserved, but have never been able to reach. Check your road and the nature of your battle. The world you desired can be won, it exists, it is real, it is possible, it’s yours (Atlas Shrugged, p.979).

Happy hundredth birthday, Ayn Rand. From a little girl who once dreamed of great things, and discovered they need not remain in dreams alone.

On our visit to the Condado do Tea region of Rias Baixas, we spent the afternoon with renowned winemaker Cristina Mantilla (right), who showed us around the beautiful Pazo San Mauro vineyard before taking us inside for a tasting.

Pazo San Mauro Winery:
http://www.marquesdevargas.com/
Wines from Spain:
http://www.winesfromspain.com

We also got a wonderful lesson in wine, color and flavor from wine expert Marnie Old, whom I would like to bring with me on every wine tour from now on. She explains wine in a way that is so completely accessible and intelligent, it was like having a personal tutor along with us.

You can find all of her content, including book and how-tos, at http://www.marnieold.com/.

Disclosure: This wine tour was sponsored by Wines from Spain and the Rias Baixas wine region.

One of my favorite things about the digital realm: It enables me to encounter like-minded people who often bring a smile to my face and ideas to my busy brain. When I get to know them offline and in person as well, there’s the added bonus of experiencing them in glorious 3D.

I told you about my darling Emily (@EmilysPearl), with whom I have a sassfully delicious NYC adventure planned next weekend (more to come on that — *rowr*), but there are also others who ring my bell, and I’ll be sharing those with you on a regular basis. First up are three lovely ladies who have shown me serious digital love in the past couple of weeks. My turn.

Sex and the 405

I love hot, smart women. You’ve seen me mention Anais before (my dearest @avflox), whose wordsmithing tends to give me a little shiver. Someone recently quipped that she is the “Shakespeare of Sex,” and I can’t really argue with that. Intelligent and brimming with sensuality, she’s a sumptuous find for your head candy. She was the first to break the news on Sex on a Plate: LA (details soon) for Sex and the 405, and ran with my holy-crap-she’s-in-garters photo. That was an interesting blog traffic day. The full version of the photo is on her blog post, and yeah, my mom is OK with it.

Kitten Lounge

Kimmie (@cocoabebe) and I have not yet met up for drinks, but that’s an evening I’m looking forward to. Her Kitten Lounge site is full of delicious treats on fashion, beauty, lifestyle and entertainment, and is well worth a read if you wish to be as fabulous as she. With a history in fashion, accessories and PR, Kimmie has her own line of designs as well as a consulting agency for fashion social media. Kitten Lounge featured my Sex on a Plate event in their 2nd Annual Love Guide, which gave me a little squee moment.

Miss Manifesto

“Miss Manifesto is every girl you’ve ever wanted to date. She is dirty sexy, wickedly smart and fantastically blunt. She’ll tell you exactly what you need to hear, whether you want to hear it or not. She’s gorgeous, but approachable, never seen without stillettos, and is always dressed to the nines. She expects — and gets — men, and women, to do her bidding, usually before she’s asked for anything. She’s every woman’s best friend and every man’s fantasy, and she’s the newest blog network for women.” I think Colleen Coplick (@ColleenCoplick) pretty much captured everything I love about her in the above — because  Miss Manifesto captures her.

If you want to indulge in some eye and mind candy, do give these ladies a gander.

In his latest ReMARKable Palate episode, Chef Mark recapped some of the delicious discoveries we made at a recent dinner at Felidia highlighting the flavors of Basilicata, Italy, which lies between the Apennine mountains and Tyrrhenian Sea (or the “instep” of Italy’s boot). The event was hosted by Lidia Bastianich and our dear friend Lou DiPalo, whose ancestral roots can be found in Basilicata.

Lou’s son Sam was recognized as an ambassador to the region that evening, and it was delightful to see the pride on papa’s face as they both enjoyed that special moment. DiPalo’s (both the store in little Italy and the online store) features the products we tasted at this event should you find your mouth watering.

We would be remiss if we didn’t share images of the dishes from the menu, as the regional flavors came together at the hands of chefs Mario DeMuro, Rocco Cristiano Pozzulo and Francesca Rondinella to emphasize the beauty of simplicity. We were very taken with the dried Senise peppers (left side of photo below), which we were initially hesitant to bite into lest they be fiery hot. Much to our surprise, they had a delicious sweetness that would replace most snack foods for us. They were crunchy like a potato chip, but flavorful and sweet like a natural food should be.

Our first course featured a selection of Basilicata cheeses including Caciocavallo Silano DOP (one of my favorites) and Pecorino de Filiano DOP, served with regional honeys, preserves and olive oil. The orange blossom honey was my absolute favorite, with acacia following at a close second. The dish was accompanied by pickled eggplant slices that packed a tart punch, so our mouths were dancing before we reached the last forkful.

Next was a dish of comfort food at its finest. Rich yet surprisingly light, the cavatelli with Fagioli di Sarconi IGP, this flavorful bowl of goodness was perfect for a chilly winter’s night. Pasta e fagioli is a classic combination (“pasta fazool” for those who insist on using a dialect…sigh).

Our next pasta course highlighted those lovely dried Senise peppers, sprinkled over stracinati pasta with cacioricotta (a sheep’s milk cheese) and toasted breadcrumbs.

A surprise awaited us with the next dish. As it said “flan” on the menu I was expecting the typical flan texture as one might find in a dessert flan; this, however, was firm, composed of Canestrato di Moliterno DOP cheese and with flavors that mimicked the taste of the inside of a ravioli. Decadently rich, the flan’s accompaniments of tomato sauce and crispy fried basil leaf provided a lovely counterpoint to make for a dish that, for me, screamed Italy.

I get a little bit excited about figs. Dessert had me writhing in my chair a little bit, as the honey dessert (described as a tart, but much more like a Madeleine texture) was served with a pistachio sauce and caramelized fig. I would trade chocolate and any other candy for these figs, and must now have them in my pantry. They would be perfection served with a light creamy accompaniment — even vanilla ice cream.

Many thanks to the region of Basilicata, Lou DiPalo, Lidia Bastianich and Felidia for inviting us to be a part of this evening. As Lou DiPalo likes to say, Italy is a region of 20 different countries, and we are learning the unique components of each as we taste our way around the boot. There is never a dull flavor moment.

I’ve just received the first set of menu ideas from the Roger Smith Hotel chefs for my Sex on a Plate event, and as I review the flavor profiles, my mental mouth is hard at work to determine what I think will work, and what I might like to tweak. So I thought this was a good time to talk more in depth about this phrase to which I’m constantly referring.

When I talk about the “mental mouth,” I mean your little inner chef, who goes to work when you are hungry, or are planning a meal. He’s the one who calls to you when you’re craving something like honey-roasted figs stuffed with whipped blue cheese and pine nuts, or who takes stock of your fridge’s ingredients and says, “We’re having a Gruyere omelette with sauteed onions, a side salad with honey Dijon vinaigrette and grilled bread.”

He’s also the one who craves things at the most inconvenient times, like homemade Chinese dumplings at 2 AM. (Incidentally, my brother Phil, whose palate blows mine away, will get up and indulge that craving. His dumplings are some of the best I’ve ever tasted.)

That little inner chef is the keeper of food memories. The storer of flavor profiles.  The master of indulgences. And the more you exercise him — by tasting, exploring, sniffing, touching — the more skilled he becomes. After many years of training, I can now confidently open any fridge and plan a meal (except for Chef Mark’s, which has little to work with but bottles of foreign ingredients I can’t decipher). For example, if I see eggs, flour, cream and some vegetables, it’s time for pasta primavera accented with whatever herbs and spices I have to work with.

Sometimes the mental mouth can fool us. It can say “Yes! Try the abc with the xyz!” — and it’s a disaster. Sometimes it’s a win — think dark chocolate-dipped bacon.

The mental mouth is what has led us to evolve as a cooking and eating species. It has created the winning flavor combinations of lime, cilantro, chile and beef, or pasta, Pecorino Romano cheese, butter and truffle shavings. Someone had to take a risk — and we get to benefit. The more you taste, the more data you store in that inner chef’s recipe files, so when you stumble upon the perfect tomato he goes to work. Do you want to eat that juicy ruby with citrusy cilantro or spicy basil? With red onions or sweet white ones? Alone or with some bread?

As you develop his repertoire, you can then look at a dish named Beef medallion with celery root puree, confit garlic foam and spiced port reduction and give it a “Hell, yes.” Right now my inner chef is dancing in the combination of the delicate celery root and sweet garlic foam, knowing a little punch will come from the spicy reduction, all blending together perfectly with the richness of the beef. I can taste it in my head.

So if you want to develop your own little inner chef, start paying closer attention when you eat. See how the flavors play on your tongue, and your palate. Take note of what specifically you like about the flavor or texture. Do avocados make your tongue sing with their delicate, silky texture? Do you like the way noodles feel as they slide down your throat? Does the smell of fresh oregano make you swoon? The world is your laboratory. Go play.

And yes, I’m serving that beef dish at the event.

Photo: Kelly Cline

If you have any preconceived notions about coffee, this is a good time to cast them aside. After talking with Brian Franklin, I certainly have. Brian is the owner of The Double Shot Coffee Company in Tulsa, OK, and he is roasting the best coffee that has ever touched my lips, bar none. He has changed my whole world.

In our chat we discuss everything from picking, roasting, grinding and brewing to why most of the commercial coffee you buy (including from that big chain) is burnt, and why those enticing-looking, oily beans are bad. Step into Brian’s world with me.

www.doubleshotcoffee.com

Here’s the Cook’s Illustrated coffee machine test to which we referred:
http://www.cooksillustrated.com/video/default.asp?docid=17108&newVideo=y

I’ve also got a very important announcement about Sex on a Plate in case you haven’t heard the news!

sexonaplate.eventbrite.com

Music: Beau Hall (www.beaurocks.com)

Food Philosophy is a production of the Culinary Media Network (www.culinarymedianetwork.com)

I see the mastering of lesser cuts of meat as the mark of a true cook. Let’s face it: Anyone can serve a decent filet mignon — there isn’t a whole lot of cooking involved. Given both the skyrocketing prices of food and the deep-seated need for me to master those lesser cuts, I have set out to master the art of braising. All-Clad was kind enough to send me a 6-quart saute pan to test from their new Stainless with d5 collection, so it is my new plaything (initial thoughts at the end of the post). I do love a pan that can go directly from stove top to oven, as it makes the cooking and cleaning easier.

There is something inherently comforting about slow-cooked, caramelized beef, but it takes a bit of patience — not my strong suit. Nevertheless, I reminded myself ahead of time that such patience would result in a luscious dinner.

The last time I made beef-back ribs I used an ale and finished them on the stove top, and used a small soup pot. This time I decided to go with a lager and finish them in the oven in the All-Clad pan. In this case I used Foster’s, as it was the only beer I could find in a single serving, and one can does the whole batch.

The beauty of these ribs is that they are mighty cheap. I bought two packs (about 12 ribs) for a total of $3.00. These are not to be confused with short ribs, which have the meat on top of the bones. These have the meat in between the bones, and are much cheaper. Now, I might be braising these slightly differently from the way others do, but I look at recipes as a guide. Feel free to adapt, add different flavors, or whatever you like.

Step 1: Caramelize the ribs.
This is the most critical part of the whole process, so don’t rush it. You want to really get some caramelization on these ribs before they are submerged in liquid, because it’s a major part of your flavor component. It will take about 20 minutes. Lightly coat the ribs with Kosher salt and a bit of pepper, get your pan really hot, add some olive oil, heat until it shimmers, and place your short ribs in the pan. Leave them alone.

While that’s happening, pre-heat your oven to 375 F. Resist the urge to move the meat around too much — let the magic happen.

Step 2: Add onions & garlic.
You can also add carrots here, but I forgot to grab one at the supermarket. It happens. Reduce your heat and add the onions and garlic. You may want to wait until the last few minutes to add the garlic because if it burns it will ruin the whole dish. I probably should have been a bit more patient here with the onions, but I added the garlic simultaneously and didn’t want to burn it. (This photo is before the onions had done their delicious sweating.)

Note: Some recipes call for removing the ribs, draining the fat from the pan, and starting with fresh oil to sweat the onions, garlic and other vegetables. I disagree, because in this case there wasn’t too much fat left, and I wanted the flavor.

Step 3: Add braising liquid, herbs & spices.
I added a giant can of Foster’s, some of the rosemary water I made the other day (not just for hair!), some ground coriander and a hint of Chinese five spice. (Add whatever spices tickle your fancy. For whatever reason, my mental mouth liked these.) Stir the liquid and scrape the bottom of the pan to loosen all the yummy bits. These are also important for flavor.

Step 4: Cover and place in a 375 F oven.
Now go away. For about 3 hours. You can check on the liquid periodically (I do so about every 30 minutes), but let the meat do its thing.

When the ribs are finished, the liquid will have reduced considerably, and the meat will be falling off the bone. You shouldn’t need a knife to cut it apart. Note: This is when you should check the salt flavor in the dish. I tend to go easy on the salt in the beginning, because as the juice reduces the flavors become intensified, and too much salt will ruin it.

Step 5: Serve over something starchy and delicious.
Some people serve these with potatoes or rice, but I am a huge fan of egg noodles. I like the way they slide over my tongue and slither down my throat. Once I remove the bones and there is nothing but meaty goodness, I like to slather this over a pile of noodles and lose myself in silky, meaty goodness.

Verdict on the All-Clad Stainless with d5 saute pan:

My sentiments about cookware and sports cars are the same: I want sleek design and superior performance. This pan did not disappoint. All-Clad has incorporated some really smart design elements into this collection, including little touches that make for easier logistics, such as lid handles that can accommodate hands wearing oven mitts, cool handles on the pan should you forget said oven mitt (I have done so) and a pouring rim all the way around the edge. The pan is also quite light despite its enormous 6-qt. size.

Most important for me, however, is the even cooking across the surface of the pan. I had ribs inside and outside, and expected to have to move them around so the inner ones wouldn’t burn, but caramelization transpired in harmony for all the ribs. Glee.

Cleanup with this pan was also effortless, even with caramelized gooey goodness all over the pan and lid. I will be experimenting much more with this pan, so I’ll share further thoughts as they occur.

I love when good friends introduce me to new good friends. Thanks to my darling C.C. Chapman, I was pointed in the direction of one Emily Cavalier, upon whom I’ve proceeded to develop a ridiculous girl-crush. I get so excited when I find people who “get” life the way I do, and her spirit is one that never ceases to bring a smile to my face. She’s frank, lusty, appreciates beauty, et elle parles francais comme moi.

Also? She smells really good.

Emily is determined to explore every inch of NYC’s ethnic foods, and I’ve become quite eager to follow her along the journey. She chronicles her adventures at MouthoftheBorder.com.

Aw hell, I don’t want to follow. I want to be there in real-time. She’s too purdy for me to miss that part.

Photo: Marc Hall

That’s what Hank Shaw says, anyway. I’ve just finished the redesign on his site, Hunter Angler Gardener Cook, and one of the job hazards was to be found in perusing his content whilst re-coding. But oh, the distraction of sausages.

While on this train of thought, I found his chanterelle soup and chortled. Yes, chortled, because he called it “sex in a bowl.” This is why I like Hank.

That, and he swears as much as I do, which makes for awesome phone calls. Here’s how he felt about the soup:

Holy sweet Jesus on the cross was this good!  The flavor hammers you with chanterelle’s beguiling flavor, backed with a whiff of saffron, the creamy mouthfeel of a classic veloute (stock whisked with a blond roux), and a slightly slutty wink from the dash of Armagnac I put in, all given added heft from a liaison of cream and egg yolks.

Sex in a bowl, indeed. Now get going.

Photo: Holly Heyser

I am a big proponent of smelling edible, and I’ve been experimenting with aromatics the past few months to find the scents that really kick my senses into overdrive. The orange and vanilla essential oil I mentioned a few months ago has been worn to great effect not only for me, but to a person, the people I’ve met while wearing it.

Now that my hair is very long, it takes a bit more maintenance, and nothing looks worse than ratty long hair. I read that rosemary water is excellent for shine and a refreshing pick-me-up for the scalp, so off to the kitchen I went. I’m a fanatic for Aveda’s Rosemary Mint line of hair products, but as those are a bit pricey, I’m opting for this method to get the same scent fix. I didn’t have any mint handy (that WILL go in the next batch), so I just used fresh rosemary for this. UPDATE: I bought the mint. It was worth every penny.

The process is very simple: Boil a kettle of water and pour it over some fresh rosemary sprigs  & mint leaves into a bowl. Let it steep for about 20 minutes, drain and let it cool. Put it in a plastic container and you have a hair rinse. Use it after your shampoo and conditioner (no need to rinse), and style.

Yum.

Have fun sniffing yourself.

Note: I’ve read in various places that this rinse is best for dark hair. Chamomile is recommended for blondes.

Photo: Kelly Cline

What does your inside voice say when you taste something sublime?

Mine says this.

You’ve seen me talk a lot about Sex on a Plate on Twitter and Facebook, but I think it’s high time we got out of the digital realm of talking food and sensuality to bring the experience to life, so if you’re in NYC for Valentine’s Day, I hope you’ll join us for a very special evening.

WHAT IT IS

We’ll spend the evening exploring the sensual pleasures of food through small plates composed of sultry flavors, textures and colors. We’ll work to envelop each and every one of your senses and push your palate to the limit.

Beer, wine and special cocktails will be available. Our guests will leave with gift bags full of goodies. There’s also a special discount on hotel stays for those that want to continue their evening of pleasure.

While much of the evening will bring you mouth-to-mouth with the unexpected, here’s some of what you can look forward to:

6:30 – 7 PM Passed hors d’oeuvres and signature cocktails

7 – 10 PM Small plates and open bar

Throughout the evening, special guest Yolanda Shoshana, the Luscious Lifestyle Diva, will be sharing some of her delicious expertise. I’ll also be available with some special guests to share more about the connection between food and sensuality.

MENU (Subject to change depending on seasonal ingredients)

Passed hors d’oeuvres:

• Avocado mousse with pickled ginger and orange zest on spicy tortilla crisp
• Truffled oysters
• Cardamom-dusted grilled lamb chop

Small plates:

• Endive with bacon, St. André cheese, hazelnuts, caramelized dried figs and honey vinaigrette
• Saffron Gnocchi with crispy artichokes
• Beef with celery root puree, garlic foam and a spiced port reduction
• Selection of artisan cheeses
• Honey-glazed pear tart with lavender whipped cream

Beer, wine and cocktails – Featuring Hahn SLH Estate Syrah Santa Lucia Highlands 2007

Goodie bags (Value: $40+)

WHO THIS EXPERIENCE IS FOR

Singles, couples and groups of friends who want to explore and delight in the sensual pleasures of food. This event is for everyone, regardless of status or sexual preference, so long as you have an adventurous palate.

DETAILS
February 14, 2010
6:30 – 10:00 PM
Roger Smith Hotel, Penthouse Solarium

EARLY-BIRD TICKET PRICES THROUGH 1/31/10

$100 pp
$90 pp for groups of 2 or more
Ticket price includes goodie bag valued at $40+
Space is limited. 21 and over. ORDER YOUR TICKETS HERE.

Note: Due to the nature of this tasting event, we will unfortunately not be able to accommodate food allergy restrictions. Menu may contain shellfish, nuts or other allergens.

HOTEL SPECIAL

The Roger Smith Hotel is offering a special “Take Monday Off” rate on Valentine’s Day for this event. Please contact Brian Simpson at brian@rogersmith.com or @Bsimi on Twitter to book.

Photos: Kelly Cline

I finally got to sit down and watch the PBS documentary crafted from Michael Pollan’s book, The Botany of Desire: A Plant’s-Eye View of the World. Its metaphorical view is intriguing if you think about how well certain plants have succeeded in wooing us — some so thoroughly that they’ve been given a world tour and hero’s welcome.

One particular quip captured the idea succinctly, about how seemingly “useless” things of beauty, such as flowers, have captivated to a global marketplace to possess them — simply so their beauty can be enjoyed.

Principles of pleasure are hard-wired into our psyches as human beings. While some are disinclined to indulge such pleasures (which is fine — more for me), there is such joy to be had in savoring glimpses of beauty that tickle the senses, even just a bit. It changes my mood if I enter my home and see a beautiful bouquet of flowers in the foyer. And chances are that I put them there. Just because.

Things of beauty are never useless. Whether they are found in the bright orange of a Gerber daisy, the smell of baking bread or our lover’s cologne, they make us feel alive, and consciously aware of witnessing something to give us pause.

But we have to be paying attention.

If you’ve been walking around in a haze, focused on work, work, work, or getting the kids to bed, or “getting it all done” (psst…you never will), you are missing out on those moments. But at the end of your life, you will not look back and be thankful that you “got it all done” (you won’t). You will look to things of beauty to remember the precious dotted points along the timeline of your life. The smile of your child. A romantic getaway. The perfect meal.

Make sure there are some dots, OK? Really big ones, if you can manage it.

When my friend Paul started talking about this pizza he prepared, I believe I may have dribbled on my shirt. I’m unsure because I was caught up in the rapture of my mental mouth at that moment. This combination of flavors is veritably sex on a plate.

This recipe has a lot of steps, but it is the perfect way to spend a snowy or chilly afternoon.

Serves 4

Ingredients

Recipes below for all of the following:
Pizza dough
Garlic olive oil
Roasted cherry tomatoes
Sauteed vegetables
Sauteed shrimp

1/2 lb lumb crab meat , picked through and drained if packed in water
2 c mozzarella cheese
1/2 cup parmesan cheese, finely grated

Special equipment

15” round pizza stone

Preparation

For the pizza dough:
1 cup lukewarm water
2 1/4 teaspoons active yeast
1 teaspoon sugar
2 1/2 cups white unbleached flour (don’t use whole wheat for this pizza)
3/4 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons garlic olive oil

Proof yeast in water and sugar. Add remaining ingredients, stir with a fork and incorporate into a ball. Knead a couple times on floured surface (don’t over mix, as this is not a bread dough). Place in greased bowl, covered in warm place to rise until doubled, about 30-45 minutes.

For the garlic olive oil:
2 – 3 cups olive oil
1 head garlic peeled and sliced
Place garlic into oil and simmer under med heat until the garlic starts to brown, about 20-30 minutes. Note: The garlic will boil and begin to settle before it starts to brown if at medium heat. Set aside and let cool. If the garlic continues to brown, remove it with a slotted spoon and set aside. Otherwise remove the garlic when oil is cool, and store oil in an air-tight container.

For the roasted tomatoes:
12 oz cherry tomatoes
1 tablespoon white balsamic vinegar
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper
1 tablespoon garlic olive oil

Pre-heat the oven to 450 F.

Halve tomatoes and squeeze/scoop out seeds and pulp. Place on baking sheet, drizzle with garlic olive oil, vinegar, salt and pepper. Roast 20-30 minutes until beginning to caramelize. Remove and cool on baking sheet.

For the sauteed vegetables:
8 oz mushrooms, sliced
8 oz asparagus, cut into 1/2-inch lengths
1 tablespoon garlic olive oil
2 tablespoon sherry
1/2 teaspoon thyme, dried

Heat the olive oil in a large saute pan until shimmering. Saute mushrooms until water is released and evaporated. Add sherry, thyme, salt and pepper, and cook until most of the liquid is absorbed. Add asparagus and cook for 2 minutes (keep asparagus under-cooked). Remove from heat and set aside. Add roasted tomatoes and stir. Drain on paper towels if there is any excess liquid.

For the shrimp:
1/2 lb shrimp, cleaned and deveined (cut up if large)
1/2 teaspoon salt
Pinch of pepper
1 tablespoon garlic olive oil
1 teaspoon Sriracha hot sauce (the one with the rooster — do NOT substitute)

Heat olive oil in a large saute pan over medium-high heat. Add ingredients and saute shrimp until almost cooked (it will finish cooking in the oven). Drain on paper towels.

For the white sauce:
2 tablespoons garlic olive oil
1/4 cup unbleached flour
1 cup milk (2% or higher)
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper

Heat olive oil in a small sauce pan over medium-high heat for 2 minutes. Add flour and whisk 1-2 minutes until the flour has mixed in and cooked to remove the raw taste. Add milk, increase heat slightly and whisk until thickened. Add salt and pepper, cover and set aside. Note: You may need to re-heat the sauce a bit before adding to the pizza.

Assemble the pizza:
Spread pizza dough onto the cold pizza stone, drizzle with garlic olive oil and bake for 8 minutes. Remove the dough from the oven, spread white sauce over the dough and top with veggie mixture. Sprinkle the crab and shrimp over the top. Cover with mozzarella and parmesan cheeses. Bake 15-20 minutes more until cheeses begin to brown.

Devour.

Recipe and photo by Paul Adair. All rights reserved.

We are so honored that our series CMN Travels has been nominated for a TASTY AWARD in the Best Food Travel Series: Web category. The Award itself is sponsored this year by JetBlue. The TASTY AWARDS celebrate and recognize the year’s best achievements in food and fashion programs on television, in film, and on the web.

Winners of the TASTY AWARDS will be announced and receive their honors on January 14th, 2010 at a red carpet Awards Show in San Francisco, portions of which will be filmed for broadcast on national television in February 2010 to millions of households.

We really love that people are recognizing all the hard work that we put into out travel series here on CMN, and we will continue to release feeds of each destination we explore. Coming soon we’ll have feeds from our travels to Toronto, Peru, Hawaii, and more videos from Scotland, England and Wales.

Here’s a 30 second promo they asked us to create for the awards ceremony, which will take place January 14th in San Francisco. Wish us luck!

Not the obvious one. Even the illegal immigrants from Jupiter have read, seen or heard about Twilight.

There have been volumes written about the mystique of Edward Cullen — why he makes women crazy in ways that perhaps no male, real or fictional, has done save for the blinding presence of Elvis Presley.

What woman wouldn’t swoon at the thought of an old-fashioned romantic with good manners and diction? Or wouldn’t want to be adored so fervently that her boyfriend watches her sleep because she fascinates him? Men roll their eyes when women gush about “my Edward.”

(Yes, we call him that.)

On the other side of the cemetery fence, there has been much psychologizing about the potential societal damage of idealizing an obsessed, over-protective, control freak of a boyfriend, and how that might skew the minds of young females in the wrong direction. There is merit in this argument, because when you look at it objectively, Edward and Bella’s relationship is a little bit creepy. 

But let’s put that aside to get to the root of something very important, shall we?

Given my metier, I see Edward Cullen in a slightly different light, so to me, the secret of his appeal is quite simple, really:

Bella is edible to him — and he never lets her forget it.

I have advised many a female friend to smell delicious — so much so that a man cannot keep from nibbling on her neck. And given the neck’s prominence as one of the most sensitive erogenous zones in the body, there is no wonder that vampires have such sensual appeal. But Edward takes it to a whole new level.

 In Bella’s case, her scent is that perfect combination of pheromones and whatever else it is that attracts him helplessly to her. She is, quite literally, Edward’s sex on a plate.

But it is in the way he titillates them both with that knowledge, and keeps the meal itself just out of reach for both of them, that drives her (and me) mental with desire.

Edward’s moments of pure sensual indulgence leave me in a state of heady, wanton lust. As a vampire his senses are exponentially more potent, so I can only imagine what it must feel like for him to run his lips along the edge of her jaw, breathing in her bouquet as he gently caresses her neck and collarbones. He compares it to appreciating the aromatics of a fine wine.

I know it must be good for her, because the very notion leaves me breathless. But why is it so heady?

Because there is danger just on the other side of it. At any moment he could completely lose control and have her for lunch.

He drives them both just to the edge, then backs off, heightening the tension just a bit more each time. This is what any good lovemaking session — and any good meal — strives to achieve. Then the climax is, well, you’ll have to read the books.

My point is that Edward’s deliciousness, at least in my eyes, is his ability to savor the pleasures of his senses, and to tease them in ways that make life with his beloved a delicious test of will. He figuratively, literally and in all other possible ways, wants to devour her. Believe me when I tell you that every woman wants that.

In the case of Edward it is a dangerous game, yes, but oh, the pleasure…

You’ve been asking, so we thought 2010 would be a great time to open the doors of our new online school, the Culinary Media Network Academy. From cooking techniques to lifestyle tips, we’ll be adding the types of classes that will help take your kitchen and entertaining skills to the next level. If you have a restaurant or food business, we’ll also show you how to leverage social media to improve your bottom line with our Restaurant Social Media 101 course.

The walls are freshly painted, and we’ve got some initial pieces live, including some of our favorite recipe collections, sets of Chef Mark’s Cooking Tips and our Entertaining Survival Guide — the perfect companion to our Gilded Fork: Entertaining at Home cookbook. We’ll soon be launching my Bachelor’s Boot Camp (the first victim student is in NYC this week), so keep an eye out for that. In the coming months we’ll be adding more classes in various formats, from text to audio and video courses.

Now here’s where you come in: We need your feedback to create our curriculum! If you have a burning desire (no pun) to learn how to purchase and cook different types of meats, or if you’ve always wanted to perfect your knife skills, we are open to your suggestions. Tell us what you want and we’ll create it. If you sign up for the Academy now, you’ll receive special pricing on new classes that come out.

Please add your feedback on the main post we’ve created on the main Culinary Media Network site, and tell us how we can help you take your cooking and entertaining skills to the next level. We’ll see you in class!

Meatballs are so much more than food to me. They embody a big piece of my childhood, and dear loved ones whose memory I’m able to keep alive each time I make them. The moment preparation begins, I’m instantly transported to happy memories, and one ritual in particular.

My late brother Bob was an incredible cook, particularly when it came to Italian food. He spent so much time at the stove, his proclivities earned him the nickname “Meatball.” I spent many a Saturday or Sunday watching him at the stove, carefully rolling out each meatball, then rolling each again before it went into the oil. The smell would fill the house, beckoning me like a wanton lover.

When meatballs were on the menu I was never far away; this was a necessity, as I had to strike at the perfect moment. You might say I have a “thing” for meatballs, but with seven kids in the family, rations were pretty strict. I also like my meatballs without sauce, so if I wanted to sneak one, I had to do it between the time they came out of the frying pan and went into the pot of sauce. The moment my brother turned his back I would spring, grabbing a scorching hot meatball and running for the bathroom, where I would lock myself in and blow on the meatball to cool it and savor each second of its ambrosia-like qualities. Sometimes I was too hasty, and spent the next couple of days with a burnt tongue.

The batch I made today brought me to what I’m calling Meatball Nirvana. The texture and flavor were PERFECTION. Since many people have requested the recipe over the years, I thought it was time to share.

This recipe comes from my Gramma Crucciti (dad’s mother), and there are two important secrets: (1) you must use stale bread; and (2) you must not be squeamish. The only way to ensure the meatballs taste good is to sample the raw mix before it goes into the frying pan. You only need a little pinch to taste. The rest is easy, but a lot of the measuring needs to be done on-the-fly, as your taste preferences may differ from mine. Play with the recipe until you get the flavors where you want them.

Actually, there is a third secret: These must be made with love, and so much of it, it fills the kitchen. It improves the taste ten-fold.

Ingredients

2 lbs chopped meat (no more than 80% lean — embrace the fat, it tastes good)
Equal amount of stale Italian bread (approximately 1 1/2 large loaves for 2 lbs meat)
1 egg
1-2 cups Pecorino Romano cheese, finely grated, to taste
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped or pressed
1 Tbsp parsley, finely chopped

Vegetable oil for cooking

Preparation

Prepare the bread:
Soak the stale bread in a large bowl of water until the bread is completely soft. Break the bread apart in large chunks, removing the crust. Squeeze each chunk with your hands to get as much of the water out as possible and set aside on a plate.

[Chef's Notes: It is important that you have a 1:1 ratio of bread to chopped meat to achieve the proper texture. Please do not substitute bread crumbs for the squeezed bread, as you will get nowhere near the same results in texture.]

Prepare the meatball mix:
Add the bread to the chopped meat and mix together by hand, squeezing to ensure an even distribution of bread throughout. Add 1 cup of the Pecorino Romano, then the remaining ingredients and mix my hand. Taste a pinch of the mixture to see if the flavors are to your taste. Add more cheese if necessary.

Roll the meatballs:
Using a spoon or your fingers, take a scoop of the mixture and roll it between your palms to form the meatball. (The size is entirely up to you, but a soup spoon usually makes a good guide.) Place the raw meatballs on a large platter in a single layer.

Fry the meatballs:
Half-fill a large saute or cast-iron pan with vegetable oil. Heat under high heat until the oil shimmers. Carefully add the meatballs, re-rolling them if they have fallen out of shape. Fry until a solid brown crust has formed on the bottom half of the meatballs, about 4 minutes, then flip over with a metal slotted spoon. Cook for another 4 minutes. (You can remove one and cut it in half at this point to make sure it’s fully cooked.) Remove to a plate or bowl lined with paper towels to drain the grease.

[Chef's Notes: You can also use a deep-fryer to make these, but you must be careful to load the basket in a single layer at a time or the meatballs will stick together.

You might be inclined to use olive oil for cooking the meatballs, but I don't recommend it. It imparts an additional layer of flavor that is not necessarily ideal, and doesn't play well at high temperatures.]

If you’ve made a pot of sauce (I’ll save that for another recipe), add the meatballs to the sauce and mangia!

Twas the night before Christmas, and Jennifer freaked out.
In the middle of cooking, her power went out.
With dozens of guests already en route,
Her feckless attempt at a meal was moot.

She went through her iPhone, Twitter and spam,
Surely someone could spare a ham.
But who would be cooking? That was the key.
With a gasp she knew, and called C.C.

“Code Blue in the kitchen!” she frantically said.
“If I don’t come up with a meal, I’m dead!”
“Don’t worry,” said C.C. “I’ve got a good vibe,
Let me call Brogan and rally the tribe.”

Together they tweeted, and asked and plead,
For able cooks to come load up the sled.
Julien arrived with tiramisu,
And Chris Penn added a bottle or two.

From near and far, the dishes arrived,
From soup to mashed potatoes with chives.
“We’d better get going,” said C.C. with haste,
“The sled’s almost full, and we’ve no time to waste.”

“What about Jen in L.A.?” said Chris,
“If we don’t stop by her house, she’ll be pissed.”
Quickly they fled to the leftward coast.
They had to hurry — this was cutting it close.

“Thank heaven you’re here!” said the bubbly Miss Jen.
“I heard the alert, and prepared a hen.
And Kelly Cline dropped by — call it fate,
But here’s a whole platter of sex on a plate.”

Meanwhile, back home, Jennifer knew
She needed a space to welcome her crew.
She called dear Brian at the Roger Smith,
“Do you guys have room, or is that just a myth?”

Thankfully, Chef Mark called ahead,
So he and Chaz set up for the spread.
Madeline arrived with cocktails in hand,
And Susan showed up with a five-piece band.

With panic, Jennifer eyed the clock.
Where were the boys — and what was in stock?
She ran to the roof to wait for them there,
Hoping there’d be enough food to share.

Like a beacon of hope the sled appeared
With C.C. and Chris — and a few reindeer.
“I told you we’d make it!” said C.C. with glee.
“You have to believe in friendship, you see.”

“Never doubt a crowd,” said Chris,
“Who believes in eating as well as this.
“There’s turkey and bread, and roast beef too,
But I did take a bite of the tiramisu.”

With a laugh, she gave them both a squeeze.
“Let’s get this inside before we freeze.”
As far as her eye could see, there were treats
To bring to life her Christmas feast.

As Chef Mark and crew laid out the spread,
Jennifer cleared the thoughts in her head.
She knew it was time for a special toast,
To celebrate friends who mattered the most.

She knew Chris and C.C. had to run,
To join their own families for holiday fun.
So when each guest had taken a seat,
She clinked her glass and rose to her feet:

“To my friends,” she began with a raise of her glass,
“Without whom I’d be out on my ass,
I thank you for showing me all through this year
That friendships like yours make life more dear.

Through struggles and triumphs I never forgot
That help was right there when my gusto was shot.
My comrades in arms, this toast is true,
From a heart so filled with love, thank you!”

This past February, an article came out in the Village Voice about foie gras (Is Foie Gras Torture?), and whether or not ducks are being tortured to produce this delicacy. The debate has raged on for years, which sparked my initial rant in The Duck Stops Here. What I think author Sarah DiGregorio brings to light with this piece, however, is something that applies universally to food, and in my opinion, is a method we should all use: Know where your food comes from. Know how it’s produced. One of the leading doctors raging against the foie gras machine has never actually set foot on a foie gras farm; she simply perpetuates the propaganda from assumptions.

If you’ve ever watched a PETA video, of course the images are disturbing. That’s their purpose. PETA is going to sensationalize whatever they find in order to make a good video, because they have a very specific intent: They want you to stop eating animals altogether. And that is their prerogative, but when they are harassing members of the public (and their children!) they become their own terrorist force. Bricks have been thrown into restaurant windows, and patrons have been harassed on their way in the door. And you all know about the pies that get thrown. Are they following the equation that two wrongs make a right? How is that going to help, exactly?

I’ve met many artisanal farmers over the years, and to a person they care passionately about their work, their livestock, and for raising them in a humane way. In the end, it makes the food taste better. A stressed out cow or duck is going to have some very tough meat for you to chew, so it is in the farmer’s best interest to keep his livestock calm and happy.

Hudson Valley Foie Gras seems no different. I’ve talked to Marcus Henley, the farm’s manager, numerous times over the past few years, and he has invited me to come see for myself. I haven’t yet had the time to do so, but I will get there, because I want to know where all my food comes from. I’ve done the same with heirloom tomatoes, cows and pigs. I invite you to do the same.

What are your thoughts on this issue?

Photo: Kelly Cline

We don’t know about you, but we’d rather avoid the mall this time of year. It’s simply not in our natures to stand in line at 6AM (unless it’s for something fabulous at the farmer’s market).

In case you feel that way, too, we’re doing something special for this year’s “Cyber Monday” sale day in the Gilded Fork Gourmet Boutique, so we invite you to peruse our offers below. Then we can all stay at home and revel in Thanksgiving leftovers and pajamas while everyone else does that standing-in-line thing.

Besides, we have a new venture to unveil in December, so the more time we can spend at the computer in pj’s, the faster we can share it with you! Happy holidays!

Living on the Edge…of Brownies

Is there a brownie lover in your life? One who fights for the ones from the edge of the pan? Inventor Matt Griffin understands those eager souls, and specifically designed his Edge Brownie Pan to deliver an entire batch of perfectly crisp edges and gooey centers. Matt’s pan has been featured on Martha Stewart’s daytime show and in just about every major food magazine on the planet, so this is a hot little item. At a price of $35, it’s also perfect for a smaller budget.

We have a limited number of Edge Brownie Pans available, and are offering free ground shipping for orders placed by midnight EST on Monday, November 30. (Cannot be combined with other discounts.)

> Order here!

Other Gift Ideas & Tips

If you are looking to get the most out of your gift purchases this year, we also offer Tondo balsamic vinegar by the case, which gives you a total of six (6) 250ml bottles (and $36 in savings). These bottles of liquid heaven can stand on their own as a lovely gift — just wrap them wine-bottle style in some pretty paper, decorate with bows and present them to dear friends.

If you’d like to make your Tondo bottles part of a gourmet gift basket, we suggest featuring a bottle of Tondo as the “star,” then adding a few inexpensive items like cheeses and some elegant crackers. We can’t think of a palate that would be disappointed.

> Order your case of Tondo here.

Cookbooks = Perfect Gifts

We are delighted that so many of you are purchasing our cookbook in multiples. We really do think it is a great gift for the holidays or any time of year. The Gilded Fork: Entertaining at Home offers 13 dinner party menus complete with beverage pairings and tons of cooking tips, which makes it useful for cooks at all skill levels.

Of course, if you’re signed up for our newsletter, you’ll receive exclusive pricing on the book, and other delicious deals between now and the end of the year. Don’t miss out!

Hey NYC people!

Before we all flee for the holidays, my BFF Jen Kushell and I are hosting a Pre-Turkey Tweetup at the Roger Smith Hotel. We’re getting our favorite locals together for a little fun, face time and frolicking, so please join us!

Date: Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Place: Roger Smith Hotel, 47th & Lexington, NYC
Time: 7PM until they make us leave

You can also find us on Twitter:
Jennifer Iannolo – @foodphilosophy
Jen Kushell – @ysnjen
& Monique Peltz – @ysn_careersos

I hope we’ll see you there! If not, you might miss Ms. Kushell wearing a lampshade. Just sayin’…

Photo from youngandsuccessful.com

My tasting tour of Rias Baixas led to a wonderful discovery: The female winemakers in this region have made an indelible impression upon the quality of the wines and the respect Albariño grapes have earned internationally.

I spent an afternoon at Pazo de Señoráns with Marisol Bueno, one of the founders of the Albariño D.O., along with her daughter Vicky and their team to learn the history behind the creation of the appellation. Like many of the smaller wine regions around the world, Marisol wanted to showcase the grapes inherent to Rias Baixas, taking advantage of the terroir of Galicia and its unique qualities to craft what has become one of my favorite wines.

Winemakers often become philosophical about the “struggle of the grapes” and how it lends character to their flavor profile. In Galicia the grapes do indeed face difficult conditions, as the climate is consistently moist, presenting the ever-present danger of mildew. Albariño grapes must be coaxed to grow in a manner that enables sunlight to penetrate the vines and keep them dry, which winery manager Javier Izurieta Romero explains in detail in the following video.

Note: This wine tour was sponsored by Wines from Spain and the Rias Baixas wine region.

I’m seeing lots of discussions lately about the connections between food and sex, and I’m not sure if it’s simply because I’m more focused on the subject than ever before, or because others are thinking about it a lot, too. Perhaps both. The question that has my attention right now is whether or not food has started to replace sex as a means of evoking and pleasing the senses.

Pardon me while I pull myself back together.

The author of the article, my new pal AV Flox, suggested that perhaps foodie culture is a result of sexual dissatisfaction. Thankfully she insists on bringing the magic back to sex, which is one of the reasons I like her very, very much. I also think she’s on to something.

If you’ve read any of my posts over the last 5 years (and hey, I hope you’ve read one or two), then you know that I see food and sex as companions happily intertwined on the journey of the senses. In complementary fashion, they appeal to our deepest pleasure points, arousing, sustaining and nourishing the most important parts of ourselves. Sadly, given the generally prudish nature of American culture, and an overstressed population that tends to operate in a state of blithe self-oblivion, the roots of sensuality and sexual pleasure have been relegated to too many secret conversations, private thoughts and therapy sessions. Instead, we watch reality TV and wonder why we feel dissatisfied.

Gael Greene thinks lust has headed completely toward the kitchen — and if she’s right, this is good news, at least in my opinion.

When I see a person who enjoys fondling vegetables while shopping, or who can appreciate the subtleties of flavor components, I know there is potential (if expertise has not already been achieved) in the bedroom. Sensual pleasure in all its forms is rooted in our philosophy — in our outlook on life itself. In the anthology Food & Philosophy: Eat, Think & Be Merry I contributed an essay called Food and Sensuality: A Perfect Pairing comparing bad cooking shows to cheap porn. Momentary thrill, not much left afterward. There is a deeper meaning to all of it, and greater heights to be reached when we can clear our minds of clutter, quick thrills and petty, everyday concerns to get to the good stuff. There is so much good stuff.

There are many blog posts to come on this subject, but I’m thinking aloud with you as I go, and would love your input. Has food replaced sex for you, or enhanced it? Has playing with food awakened something in you sensually?

Photo: Kelly Cline

We knew it was coming. In October it seemed far off in the distance, so we put it out of our minds. Now we look at the calendar and start to freak out inside…just a little bit.

The holiday season is upon us, so it’s time to get organized for the revelry ahead. Given that a normal holiday gathering with my immediate family means 20-25 guests, we’ve got this thing down to a science. We also have an industrial meat slicer, so I realize that we are a bit…unusual. But that doesn’t mean you can’t pull this off, too.

I joined Marsha Collier and Mark Cohen on KTRB Radio in San Francisco today to talk about tech tools to help manage the chaos, and wanted to give you an expanded list here as a handy reference tool.

Planning:
You’ve heard me say it before, but a little Type A goes a long way. Get it out of your head and on to paper (or your PDA/iPhone/latest gadget). We’ve created a whole section on Culinary Media Network to help you get started, from the number of guests to the style of your party.

I also discovered an amazing planning resource whose bells and whistles go far deeper than I imagined. You’ve likely received an invitation from eVite…but did you know what else is under the hood? Their tools enable everything from managing your guest list to creating a detailed timeline and checklist. They even have decor suggestions.

Calendar:
Set up a Google calendar for yourself with the title “Thanksgiving” or “Holidays,” and you can have e-mail reminders sent right to your inbox each day. You can also sync it to your other calendars so your tasks are like any other items on your to-do list. There are lots of tools online for this, so choose the one you like best, preferably one that is already part of your routine. If your form of organization and planning includes Post-It notes all over your desk, hey, I won’t judge.

Menu:
If you need menu ideas, there is no shortage of resources online for finding recipes, from our full recipe list to sites like allrecipes and Epicurious. If you would rather have a book in your hands, there is still time to order The Gilded Fork: Entertaining at Home to have at your disposal for menu ideas.

Shopping

Ingredients:
Believe it or not, I don’t particularly enjoy grocery shopping, particularly if I’m feeling rushed. Thankfully there are now plenty of online delivery services to take care of that piece for you. The downside? If you like fondling your vegetables (the part I actually enjoy), the control freak in you will have to let go and accept that someone else will be picking out your potatoes. If you’re on the east coast or in Chicago, check out PeaPod (or your local supermarket’s web site). West coasters can take a look at Safeway, which has created a whole Thanksgiving section just for you.

Turkeys:
I’m not a big fan of the frozen bowling balls known as supermarket turkeys, but use them when necessary. If you prefer something a little tastier, here are some options:

• D’Artagnan: Gorgeous fresh or frozen turkeys that are delivered to your door, with 14-16 lb frozen turkeys for $65.
• Lobels: An NYC staple for Thanksgiving, they ship fresh organic and free-range turkeys for $75 and up

Wine:
Now this is a favorite, and not just because it was started by some friends of mine. Called the “Netflix of wine,” WineQ is a wine-delivery service that lets you queue up your favorites, start your own wine club, and discover what your friends are drinking.

Hostess Gifts:
If you are the lucky recipient of an invitation to a holiday party, please remember good etiquette and bring along a gift for your host. He or she is working very hard to entertain you, so a little reward is in order.

We’ve got some lovely gift ideas in the Gilded Fork Boutique, especially our Tondo flavored vinegars, so you can peruse gift options there, or at some other favorites including Dean & Deluca, Harry and David, or iGourmet.

If you want to dress *yourself* up a little, take a look at what The Hip Hostess has on display. She also features some gorgeous home decor finds.

But What If I Can’t Cook?!
Ah, the age-old dilemma. Guess what? There are solutions for that, too. Now, you could make a restaurant reservation, but I’m a huge proponent of welcoming people into my actual home for the holidays. The good news is that we have an entire country full of personal chefs, and you can find them all on the U.S. Personal Chef Association web site. Chef Mark is right here in NYC, so don’t forget to see his offerings at ReMARKablePalate.com.

Most importantly, remember to take deep breaths and not to panic. Worst-case scenario, open another bottle of wine and pour some more cocktails. It will all be just fine.

It’s been an intriguing few weeks.

At BlogWorldExpo in Las Vegas, I found myself being introduced in the following manner: I’d like you to meet Jennifer. She does “Sex on a Plate.” To my pleasant surprise, many people already knew about it — or wanted to. Marsha Collier and I talked about it on her radio show for KTRB in San Francisco, and 4 million more people were let in on the secret. I loved that.

I then spent a few days with Kelly Cline, the early inspiration for turning my blog into something more. I am drawn to her food photography like a bee to honey, as she is the only person on earth who can see inside my mind and bring my thoughts to visual, four-color reality. We’ve had a magnificent five years of collaboration, and I’m coming away from my time with her newly inspired. It also turns out she takes more than good food photos…but more on that another time.

Kelly and I breathe a tandem rhythm of sensual stimulation, but we don’t want to be the only two in on the melody — and it looks like many of you feel the same way.

On Facebook, in e-mail and at events, people are asking me what it all means. So what kind of food should I eat? What dish gets you really hot? But that, my friends, is the result, not the cause. Let me explain a bit.

On Food Philosophy #87 I talked about experiencing Zumanity, the Sensual Side of Cirque du Soleil. I’m eternally grateful to Jess Berlin for offering me a ticket, because seeing the show brought all my recent thoughts together in a flash of inspiration. Zumanity artfully and powerfully evokes the sensual desires in our minds — even the ones we hide in the light of day — and strikes a chord so deep it’s impossible to leave the theater without an overwhelming need to satiate them. Whether we shiver at the sight of light blue silk rippling in the breeze, or feel a rush of desire at the crack of a whip, something in that show triggers our senses until the hunger in the room is palpable. Every body shape, every sexual preference — every fantasy — is captured on stage, drenched in perfect lighting and pulsating rhythms.

I found myself in such a heightened state of sensory indulgence, I actually purred. Out loud.

After walking out of the theater I realized that if the world could step inside my head in that moment, they would get the idea of Sex on a Plate at its core. It’s not the food, you see, though that is a magnificent component of the satiety; it is what I’ve awakened inside that enables me to feel that kind of passionate arousal in such a moment, and see the world exploding with color and texture all around me. Imagine feeling like that on a regular basis. Oh yes.

The good news is that I’m not an anomaly — I’ve worked to get my senses to this place, but there are lots of you out there, even if you don’t know it yet. I’ve discovered that some of you took my tips to heart in getting started, and are beginning to see food in a whole different way. That excites me. Some of you have taken the tips into the bedroom. That excites me more.

If you haven’t yet started on the road toward Eden, I’m putting out a personal challenge to you, because it’s no fun here with just a few of us: Do something today to satiate your senses. Take a few extra seconds when you nibble that bite of chocolate, and feel its silkiness as it melts on your tongue. Run a finger down your lover’s spine. Drink in a moment of beauty, whether it’s a perfect flower or an exquisite woman.

Do this and you will soon be rewarded in the Garden, because things are in motion to bring Sex on a Plate to life, off the digitized page and right in front of you. Do you want your senses to be tickled? Titillated?

If the answer is yes — and I hope it is — I’ll need you to prepare.

Top photo: Kelly Cline
Bottom photo: Cirque du Soleil

Psst…in case you didn’t notice, over at Culinary Media Network we’re posting a weekly contest from now through the end of the year to give away signed copies of our Gilded Fork: Entertaining at Home cookbook. We’ve had two winners so far, and a slew of comments, so this is getting fun!

The first contest asked for your top 5 dinner party guests (living or dead), and the second asked who inspires you most in this new media space. We’ll have a variety of things to ask you, so get your mental mouths in gear!

There’s a whole lot happening in this episode, from my trip to BlogWorld & New Media Expo in Las Vegas to my journey through the Cotswolds in the UK. I’m also continuing my Sex on a Plate adventures, so please do join me for a little stimulating conversation.

Among other things, I was invited to see Zumanity in Las Vegas — the sensual side of Cirque du Soleil. Suffice it to say, the show’s sumptuous, erotic display gave me much inspiration for what is ahead. Today’s show also features interviews with Sally Jarrett from Prince Charles’ Highgrove shop and Chef Shane Kisby from The Priory Inn, both in Tetbury, England.

I’m also sharing a little love for my dear friends C.C. Chapman, Laura Fitton and Jen Kushell, who were all with me for some tasty meals in Las Vegas.

And hey, have you purchased your signed copy of the Gilded Fork cookbook? (shop.gildedfork.com)

Music: Beau Hall (www.beaurocks.com), George Fletcher’s Bourbon Renewal (www.georgefletcher.com)

Food Philosophy is a production of the Culinary Media Network (www.culinarymedianetwork.com)

When I decided to go to BlogWorld & New Media Expo this year, I had one of those double-edged sword moments. I couldn’t wait to see old friends and make new ones — but ugh, Las Vegas. It’s the one town I try to avoid, because it just isn’t for me. My kind of gambling involves business risk, so I am maddened by the “ding-ding-ding” when I walk through casino mazes designed to keep you trapped inside when you just want daylight.

This trip, thankfully, was a bit different. Planet Hollywood Resort invited me to stay as their guest during my trip, and as I’d never been to their hotel, I accepted with an open mind (and braced myself for the “ding”-ing).

Guess what? Unlike many of the other hotel casinos in Las Vegas, this one is far better suited to my taste, with a sleek, modern design — thank you, designer gods. It actually looks more like a hotel that happens to have a casino, so I didn’t feel overwhelmed every time I walked through the door. This was a very good thing.

I know a lot of people who travel to Vegas for business, and they often find the bells-and-whistles setting to be too much. I found that at Planet Hollywood, I could at least tune it when I wanted to. There’s still room for lots of fun, certainly (some of which I witnessed from the upstairs balcony), and the attached mall is massive, but you can also be zen-like and flake out at the spa. I really wish I’d had time to fit that in; however my room overlooked the dancing Bellagio fountains, so I at least got a bit of eye-candy between BlogWorld events and sessions.

The only thing I really missed was a bathrobe in my room. I realize that all hotels in Las Vegas are designed to keep you out of that room and in the casino, but I really craved a robe for those rare moments of downtime. Now that Las Vegas has become as much a business destination as a party one, I’ll be interested to see how the formula changes over time.

Nonetheless, I left Las Vegas a happy camper this time, and enjoyed my stay even more than I expected to. Of course, part of the journey involved food (like it ever wouldn’t). I was a guest for a tasting dinner at Koi restaurant inside Planet Hollywood, which also happened to be the locale of my pal Jen Kushell’s first foodgasm. This was intriguing.

The setting for our meal was a sumptuous table set with velvet couches overlooking those dancing Bellagio fountains. After more than a few lychee martinis (well, they go down easy), course after course appeared with sushi, spicy tuna on papadums, baked lobster on crispy rice (seen above – the Kushell foodgasm dish), sexy mashed potatoes and other sultry creations. Color me satisfied. You can see all of the dishes in my Facebook album of our Koi tasting.

I also had great company, which always makes a difference at dinner: Jennifer Kushell (@ysnjen), Rohit Bhargava (@rohitbhargava), Tiffany Monhollon Wilson (@tmonhollon) and Chef Mark (@ChefMark).

Many thanks to Brandie Feuer at Planet Hollywood (@phvegas) and BlogWorld party-man extraordinaire Joe Morin (@josephmorin) for making my stay a memorable one!

Sometimes one really needs a carb fix, but plain old French fries just aren’t enough. I’ve grown bored with potatoes, but there are times when I love — nay, need — a good crunchy starch with my dinner. I’ve been experimenting with a variety of different ones to keep my palate enthused, and two of my regular favorites are sweet potato fries and yucca fries (thank you, Peru!).

Sweet Potato Fries
These couldn’t be easier to make. Preheat the oven to 400 F. Peel a sweet potato, cut into fry-size strips, then toss with some olive oil, salt and freshly chopped rosemary. Bake in the oven for about 20 minutes or until they brown to your liking.

Yucca Fries
These take a bit more preparation, but gawd are they worth it. Yucca has substance — potato-esque, but with the slightest hint of butteriness. I also love how it looks like Camembert when you slice it open, but that’s just me. I found a great recipe for baked ones (complete with pictures) here.

After a trip through Peru that was pretty taxing on my body, I needed something to bring my body back into balance and ready myself for the daily grind. Since spa treatments are definitely not in my budget right now, I wanted the next best thing, so I decided to create a home spa treatment day for myself. I used ingredients and items I had on-hand to bring it to life, and ended the day feeling relaxed and refreshed.

You can obviously vary this to suit your own tastes, but here’s a general list of what I do to set things up:

• Draw the blinds and light candles around the house
• Put on soothing music (my favorite for this is a Reiki music CD)
• Draw a lavender bath that will fill the house with a soothing scent
• Lay out all the tools for a mani-pedi
• Dig out my soft, fluffy bath robe

From there, the schedule is mine to craft. I’ll usually start with a soak in the tub, then slather my body in a soothing lotion — my favorite is Burt’s Bees Milk & Honey. (Note: You can find Burt’s Bees at significant savings at Vitacost.com. They didn’t pay me to say that.) I use an olive oil and sugar scrub on my face to exfoliate and deeply moisturize, and mani-pedi time follows, along with a nice hot cup of Honeyed Chai Tea.

If you are fortunate enough to find yourself home alone for more than a few hours, finish it all with a peaceful nap, and perhaps a yoga session. I’ve found some great free videos on MyYogaOnline, which I also download to my iPod and take with me when I travel.

A big part of life’s enjoyment is to be found in treating yourself well, so indulge yourself.

This summer I was invited by Wines from Spain and the Rias Baixas wine region to explore their viniferous offerings. I came away from the trip with a lot of new thoughts on white wines, as they hadn’t held much excitement for me — until I discovered why. A big part of enjoying wine comes from finding out what you like, the reasons you like it, and building from the flavor notes that attract your senses, so much was revealed to me in the span of this tour. With 3 winery visits a day for the better part of a week, I really got to know the nuances of Albarino grapes and Rias Baixas winemaking, so I now feel more empowered and knowledgeable in my search for the flavors that awaken my palate. I hope my findings will help you to discover the sparks that awaken your own.

During my trip I toured the 4 sub-regions of Rias Baixas exploring both large and small winemakers, including Pazo de Señoráns, the winery of the D.O.’s founder, Marisol Bueno. The region is known for the fortitude of its female winemakers, which I have to admit, made me smile.

I’ll be releasing a series of videos and stories about the region, but for now here’s a little taste of my arrival in Santiago de Compostela, a site of pilgrimage for many Catholics. You might hear a sound that is quite unexpected coming from Spain. (Please pardon the video quality — been working out bugs with the conversions.)

A production of the Culinary Media Network (www.culinarymedianetwork.com).

Dear Big Brother: Since my readers can’t be trusted to evaluate whether or not my opinion means anything, and you suspect me (and those like me) to be a shill for anything someone might give or buy for me, we’re all putting ourselves in your able, caring hands. Thanks! Travel and accommodations for this trip were provided by Wines from Spain.

After several days here in Peru, one thing has become apparent: This is a culture deeply in love with its food. Nowhere else have I seen such a strong emotional connection to the kitchen and table. In kicking off La Mistura, Peru’s annual culinary festival, Chef Gaston Acurio talked about the state of the economy, and how food is the one sector that is growing in this country — because the emotional connection Peruvians have with their food is the last thing they’re willing to let go. Instead, they are spending their scarce funds on high-quality food products and ensuring that one integral piece of their lives remains intact.

There is something to be learned from this. To eat in Peru is to take the pleasure of dining and hospitality to a level we rarely see in the U.S. Even the fast food here is of better quality — and I’m happy to say that Bembo’s, the national burger chain, is outselling the golden arches, simply because the food is better.

Service is also prized here, and Peruvians demand the very best. The quality is evident at every level, from street foods like anticuchos (hearts, liver and intestines), papa rellena (a mixture of beef, onions and olives deep fried in a mashed potato crust) and picarones (fried dough) to the more exotic fare found in the city’s best restaurants.

With such a rich choice of ingredients, my palate has been surprised a number of times with new textures and flavors, including some from the Amazon that I’ll detail in a later post. We’ve practically gorged ourselves on ceviche and pisco sours, both national treasures. We’ve even sampled cuy (guinea pig), which is surprisingly good, especially when the skin is crisped to a crunchy finish.

It will take me a while to really absorb and share what I’m experiencing here, because it’s life-changing. I’ve never had so many new flavors in a matter of days, so my palate is still reeling from the experience.

We are now in the Sacred Valley in preparation for our trip to Machu Picchu, and it seems that everywhere I look the landscape is bursting with colors and textures — my senses will remember this trip for many years to come. We’ll have videos, photos and podcasts in the months to come, and can’t wait to share it all, but for now we’ll post as much as we can. It’s difficult when we’re always on the go (I’m supposed to be sleeping right now, as I have a 6:45 AM train to Machu Picchu), but at the very least you can take a peek at my Facebook albums:

La Mistura Culinary Festival
Lima Market Visit & Ceviche Lesson
Lima: Photos of the City
Museum of Archaeology (and Erotica – my fave!)
Sacred Valley & Pisac Market (and me on an ATV – w00t!)

During our trip to Scotland, I sat down with Chef Jason Henderson from Knock Castle to talk about his approach to fine dining. I posted my initial impressions about Knock Castle, but this takes a little behind-the-scenes look at how Jason thinks about food, and what he wants people to experience in his dining room. His able staff left me with one of my best hospitality experiences to date, so if you are going to be in the vicinity of Crieff, Scotland, I highly recommend staying here. He didn’t pay me to say that, though he is awfully cute.

I’ll also fill you in on my world of Sex on a Plate, and a peek at where I’m headed with it.

Don’t forget that our Gilded Fork: Entertaining at Home cookbook is now available! You can find it at https://shop.gildedfork.com.

P.S. Are we friends on Facebook? How about Twitter? Find me here:

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/jenniferiannolo
Twitter: @foodphilosophy

Food Philosophy is a production of the Culinary Media Network (www.culinarymedianetwork.com).

Music: Beau Hall (www.beaurocks.com), Evan Stone (www.asamandrummeth.com)

I love that so many people are getting behind my Sex on a Plate mission! I recently sat down with my good friend C.C. Chapman, who is not only a prolific new media entrepreneur, but is also an avid cook, to talk about the link between food and sensuality. His site Digital Dads (for dads, by dads) addresses all sorts of parenting aspects, and he had some questions about how dads might keep things spicy with the wife.

He proposed an interesting theory that has turned into “C.C.’s law of the 2 Cs,” and I wholeheartedly agree. I think the ladies might, too:

I believe that if every guy could master the art of cunnilingus and cooking then they could win any woman’s heart. Because of this, I wanted to get [Jennifer's] take on the intimate qualities of food that she’s been talking about as part of her Sex on a Plate concept. What follows is a little Q&A and I did with her.

So if you’re a dad, or know a dad, please do spread the gospel — see the full Digital Dads Q&A. Remember the mission: Better food and better sex for everyone! Huzzah!

My pal Art Insana has created a wonderful new site called the-future.com, which takes a compelling look at the trends that will shape our world in the days and decades ahead, with contributions on topics ranging from fashion to science. I’m intrigued to see the discussions that will surely arise.

When Art asked me to write a piece on food for the site’s debut, I could not help but think about the local (or locavore) movement, and what that might mean for us, globally, as a species. There are more questions than answers that arise when examining such a topic, so I decided to begin with those in hand.

Coincidentally, I’d been spending the past few weeks deep in thought about local vs. mass-production food, as I received a screener’s copy of Food, Inc. and finally had a chance to watch it. After a bit of searching, I also found The Future of Food on Hulu. I used to be of the opinion that genetically-modified foods were fine, given that just about all plant matter we eat has been hybridized at some point in history. However, the idea of flounder DNA in tomatoes crosses a line for me — as does the law of unintended consequences. As does the idea of us not having knowledge readily available concerning what is being put into our bodies.

Given that I’m also a rabid capitalist, this all presented a bit of a quandary. Years ago, I came out swinging in favor of Monsanto — the monolith of seed manufacturing. Now that I’ve learned more abut their business practices, however, I’m very disturbed by what I see as an unethical value system and extremely dirty legal tactics.

Rather than standing on a soapbox and preaching some kind of foodie gospel, however, I am much more eager to encourage people to read, then read between the lines, look at both sides, and draw their own conclusions. Ask questions. Find out where your food comes from. The only way for us to truly affect change is to be well-informed with the truth — not a Michael Moore-esque scare version, but a well-balanced view.

I encourage you to read my article, The Great Food Debate: Romance vs. Reality, and share your own thoughts. This topic is one that touches every single human being on the planet, so it’s worth a bit of brain time.

How much do you really think about what’s going into your mouth?

I wasn’t at work that day. I had a doctor’s appointment. When I first heard the news I made a joke, saying “It’s a good thing I didn’t commute in.” My office was in midtown, but I knew the train schedules would be a mess. It wasn’t until I turned on my car radio that the gravity of the situation hit me. People were jumping from the World Trade Center.

I backed out of my parking spot so fast I almost hit an oncoming car, and drove home with the pedal floored to see what in hell was happening. The rest played out before my eyes. The phone began to ring off the hook as relatives called from Australia and Scotland. Every time I answered the phone, my friends and family members burst into tears. They didn’t know I was home.

My first reaction was to try and find a way to get into the city. My beloved city. But I couldn’t get in, and I couldn’t phone in. So I sat like everyone else and watched the news until I was delirious with fatigue.

Wednesday night I saw a segment on the news — the James Beard House kitchen was up and running. I left a message for my friend Shelley Menaged, who organizes the kitchen volunteers for visiting chefs. I offered to do absolutely anything they needed help with, and packed my kitchen gear to take to work on Thursday.

When she called me back, she had just heard about the staff of Windows on the World, and had been without sleep for thirty-six hours. “I’m at my breaking point,” she said. “Can you come down tomorrow and keep me company?” At last, I could do something.

I was in no way prepared for what I would see. Watching it on television was slightly more bearable, but to see the streets of Manhattan empty — to cross Madison Avenue freely because there was no traffic to be seen — was the most eerie experience I have ever known. The silence was deafening.

It was worse downtown. When I got to the Beard House I was choking on the acrid smoke, and stood in shock as a convoy of Hummers came racing down 12th street. This was like a bad movie. Even so, it had less of an emotional impact than what I would see in the hours to come.

The Beard House’s main focus through those few days was to provide meals for the doctors at St. Vincent’s Hospital (located across the street) and the policemen who were stationed nearby. Food was donated from practically every restaurant in town, and we were tripping over the supply of goods.

Every few hours someone would show up at the door with donations in hand; sometimes it was a shopping cart full of food, other times boxes of toothpaste and toothbrushes. We threw ourselves into the task of organizing everything that came in, restocking the buffet to ensure the food was always hot, and keeping a general sense of calm and quiet about the place.

Since there were so many volunteers in the kitchen, I decided to head to the dining room. There I discovered what my role would be for the next eighteen hours: I would provide comfort, a friendly face, and a warm plate of food for those who came to eat and rest. For a distraction I would give them a brief tour, showing them Beard’s mirrored bedroom and his open shower, with a glass wall as its only shelter from the outdoors. They got a kick out of that.

I fondly remember Vic, a young doctor who felt guilty that he was eating a decadent meal as he waited for patients who would never come. He loved to cook, and was thinking about changing careers. I wonder if he ever did.

I shared food stories with two detectives who would be guarding the President of the United States at sunup. The weather was horrible, and they were embarrassed that their suits would be wrinkled. They took great pride in their work, and wanted to be at their best when protecting the man in charge of this crisis.

But the policemen broke my heart. Like handsome characters from Central Casting they paraded into the dining room, with uniforms soaked but faces warm and friendly. The television was on, and as they sat down to eat, Howard Lutnick’s heart-wrenching interview came on. The officers visibly blanched as they listened to his story, and I realized in watching their faces that they were hearing it for the first time. We were seeing all of this unfold on television, but they were out there in the pouring rain, living it. In a way, it protected them from hearing stories like this. They had enough to contend with.

What affected me more than anything else, though, was the attitude of every person who walked through that front door to eat a hot meal. They were so grateful that people were kind enough to take care of them. They couldn’t believe they were eating soup from Le Cirque and sandwiches from Daniel, and thanked us profusely for what we were doing. I was speechless. I wanted to throw myself at their feet for what they were doing, and they were thanking us.

It then hit me that food is, in fact, life’s true comfort. A hot meal can lend solace when we truly need it, and providing such a meal can be the most effective way to show one’s caring for another human being. I feel fortunate that I was able to serve those men and women I will never see again, but with whom I feel eternally bonded.

I have never visited Ground Zero; I’m not sure I ever will. The faces I saw over the course of those eighteen hours told me all I needed to know.

This article originally appeared on the Atlasphere on September 9, 2004.

As summer winds down, I find myself looking for respite from the heat anywhere I can find it. Some days the air is so thick on the East Coast I feel like I need oars.

When I’m in those dog-day doldrums, I find that certain scents offer quick refreshment and make my tongue tingle a little bit — and that always makes me happy.

Simple syrups are one of my favorite ways to perk up a cocktail, a glass of iced tea, or even a fruit salad. They are easy to craft (note the name “simple”), so this is a quickie even for the novice cook. This recipe can be adapted for any kind of herb (suggestions below), so think about what your senses are craving and indulge thyself in some refreshment!

Herbed Simple Syrup

Makes about 1 1/2 cups

Ingredients

1 cup sugar
1 cup water
1 cup loosely packed herbs (basil, mint, rosemary, lavender, etc.)

Preparation

Place ingredients in saucepan and stir, then place over medium-high heat. Bring to a boil, stirring occasionally, and boil until sugar is dissolved (1-2 minutes).

Remove from heat, and let stand for 30 minutes. Pour liquid through a strainer into an airtight container and discard herbs. Cover and chill for 2-3 hours.  Can be stored in refrigerator up to 1 month.

Photo: Kelly Cline

Since last week’s Sex on a Plate post (and the announcement of my mission to help people have great food and great sex) I’ve had a lot of compelling conversations around the subjects of sensuality, sexuality and food. One of them was with a national woman’s magazine, so let’s hope I make the editor’s cut for that.

In having such conversations, of course, questions have arisen, such as “Where do I start?” and “What do I do?”

I thought I’d put together a couple of tips (OK, five of them) to share my approach to the senses, and how these actions help me to savor life on a very profound level. I recommend you give them a try and see what happens.

1. Quiet your mind. Nothing can interfere more with a moment of enjoyment than a mind that is full of worry, to-dos, schedules, etc. Take a moment to breathe. This has been my greatest challenge, as my brain is constantly buzzing with things I need to take care of, ideas for my businesses, people I need to reach out to, on and on; it’s enough to make a person frazzled. To quiet myself, I’ve committed a minimum of 15 minutes each day to sit quietly, preferably surrounded by trees and flowers, to just be. To take it all in.
2. Pay attention. In that moment of serenity (you can get there — deep breaths, people) take note of the colors, sounds, scents and textures around you. Notice how vivid the colors are in that Iris over there, or how peaceful the sound of the breeze is. Feel the sun on your face.
3. Reach down into that inner place of joy. The ultimate feeling is to revel in one’s very existence — to feel a sense of giddy happiness just to be alive, experiencing this moment. If we can take pleasure in something that simple, imagine the indulgent pleasures that can follow.
4. Engage your mental mouth. This is your inner taster. We all have one. In remembering your favorite food memories, your mental mouth pulls up smells, flavors, feelings from the past, at times when you had a perfect bite, or your grandmother’s apple pie evoked the ultimate feeling of comfort. By exercising this little guy, and by thinking about flavors, you are putting your brain to work on expanding the receptors for these all-important pleasures. I did not develop my palate passively — I taste a lot of things, see how they make me feel, store the ones I like and refer to them for inspiration.
5. Approach your food actively. Remember when you sat outside and paid attention to your surroundings? Apply that to your next meal. What colors, textures and smells are before you? Take a moment to absorb those, and note how they make you feel. Are you inspired to lasciviously dive into that dish of glistening red tomatoes? Does the soft texture of that loaf of bread make you want to play with it in your hands? These are exercises that put the mind to work — to train it to anticipate pleasure, and get you excited for the things you’re about to taste.

Let me know how you do. Or, as I am wont to say, keep playing with your food.

Photo: Lia Soscia

Last week I was invited on a little adventure to explore the Brandywine Valley Wine Trail in Chester County, PA, about 45 minutes outside of Philadelphia. At first I was surprised — I was not aware there was a wine trail in Pennsylvania. Infinitely curious and not sure what to expect, I set off with an open mind.

I’m glad I did, as this picturesque region has a lot to offer the food & wine explorer. With its 8 vineyards, the 50-mile trail is easy enough to visit over the course of a weekend, though there are other distractions that may compel you to pull over from time to time, from farms to antique shops and Longwood Gardens, built by Pierre DuPont in the early 20th Century. Given the valley’s proximity to several major cities, those in the know travel there on weekends from Washington, DC, Baltimore and New York — and have been doing so for years.

The Brandywine Valley is a mix of town and country, as you can travel out to the estate vineyards themselves or visit the local tasting rooms, often part of the town’s shopping centers. This mix is a bit handy for those who might not swoon at the sight of grape vines, and who are eager to spend more time tasting. Paradocx, Kreutz Creek and Chaddsford wineries all have such locations, while Chaddsford also features an outdoor area for live events. Penns Woods, like some of the others, has a tasting room on-site at the winery, where you can view the rolling hills of vines. Information about all the wineries, including a special events calendar, can be found on the Brandywine Valley Wine Trail site. The in-town tasting rooms were particularly convenient for me, as I also had a cooking class to attend at the Brandywine Country Cooking School (more on that in my next post).

Though I only had a couple of days to spend, I managed to sit with a number of the local winemakers, winery owners and tasting room managers to talk about what’s happening in Pennsylvania wine, and those chats will be featured in an upcoming episode of Food Philosophy. It is a region in progress: Some of the wines are starting to win regional and national awards, and from my conversations it seems that many winemakers are still trying to find the sweet spot, finding which wines work best with the Brandywine’s particular terroir. As with any wine region, it sometimes takes decades to find which grapes are best suited to a given region, and in fact, this is what makes it exciting: It offers you a chance to explore right along with the winemakers, learning how they think and discovering what excites them. Though grapes have been grown here since the days of our founding fathers, there are now varietals available for experimentation that would not have been possible for William Penn and friends.

Overall, I think the Brandywine Valley offers a conveniently-located, relaxing getaway for east coasters looking to travel close to home. Happily, chefs and restaurants have joined the party, featuring local ingredients and wines wherever possible. I had a particularly good burger at Bistro on the Brandywine, which was accompanied by a roasted golden beet salad with frisse and arugula, candied walnuts, Humboldt Fog blue cheese and white balsamic vinaigrette. It tasted as good as it sounds.

Disclosure: This trip was courtesy of the Pennsylvania Wine Association. The opinions are mine.

This is what happens when I drink first thing in the morning. We stopped in at the Penderyn Distillery, the only working distillery in Wales, which is working to revive the Welsh Whisky tradition. Keith Tench gives me a lesson in cuddling and properly sniffing whisky, and I get a taste of a VERY special brew. The dance number at the end features Tom Jones. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Note: This is a “Quick Bite” video, which is shot video blog-style. Our full HD video of the distillery tour and tasting will be released in the coming months.

A production of the Culinary Media Network.
www.culinarymedianetwork.com

If you happen to follow my Twitter activities, you may have noticed that I’ve begun a regular thing called #sexonaplate. (That little number sign is called a hash tag, and creates a Twitter stream of people’s tweets on a given subject when they add the tag.)

The original “sex on a plate” quote comes from my first manifesto, On Food and Sensuality, written in 2004 when I discovered that the pre-consumption sight and/or smell of certain foods evokes a visceral reaction in me that is so sensually satisfying, the eating is almost an afterthought. Almost.

So now I’m asking what evokes that reaction in you. What makes you swoon? Sigh? Tremble? Drool?

I do have an ulterior motive here, which has become my life’s work: I want you to eat better food and have better sex. They go together, you see.

My second manifesto is in the anthology Food & Philosophy: Eat, Think and Be Merry. My essay Food and Sensuality: A Perfect Pairing takes the premise quite a few steps further, delving into comparisons of cheap porn and bad television cooking shows — and explaining why neither is truly satisfying.

The conclusion of both manifestos, however, remains the same: Life is more satisfying when it is accompanied by sensual indulgence that is felt all the way down into the soul. It makes colors more vivid, tastes more satisfying, and lovemaking more fulfilling. It takes what might have become a daily routine and spices it up in a way that makes one feel more alive simply for being here and witnessing what is present for the senses to enjoy. If you’ve ever bathed in the scent of lavender, I think you know exactly what I mean.

But I cannot embark upon this mission alone. Indulgence is better when shared — and I would love for us to experience it together. How do we do that? Well, for starters, we need to talk about it. The conversation on Twitter is coming along nicely, and that is one spot — but there are others. Talk to me on Facebook. Leave comments here. Sniff basil leaves. Dip a piece of bread in truffle oil and inhale deeply.

Then share the experience — let somebody in on the secret.

Photo: Kelly Cline

My Twitter pal Chip Griffin from Media Bullseye wrote an article today likening social media to levels of cooking appliances, with the EasyBake being the starter model. I found the idea quite humorous, and ended up getting a little quote love. :) His analogy is a good one, and worth a read if you are thinking about dipping your toe into the social media arena.

In cooking, you might think of entry-level as an Easybake Oven. These much-maligned children’s toys can be used for cooking, though I have not done so myself. My lack of experience seems irrelevant, however, since someone actually created a cookbook on the subject. I kid you not. And Jennifer Iannolo told me on Twitter this morning that she “can work an EasyBake like nobody’s bidness.

You can see the full article here: Cooking Social Media with an EasyBake Oven vs. a Viking Range

Thanks Chip!

For me, nothing relieves stress better than a hot bath, and I was so happy to move into my new apartment because the old one didn’t have a tub! I had a gorgeous multi-jet shower (we nicknamed it the “Porn Shower”), but oh, how I longed to soak my weary self on many an occasion.

Back in the day when I could afford massages regularly, my darling of a masseur recommended that I take a hot bath afterward with lavender oil, Epsom salts and buttermilk to offset the lactic acid buildup. The elixir always left me feeling rejuvenated, and I rarely suffered from the soreness typical of deep-tissue massages. And though I now have to skip the massage part of that joyful experience (boo!), I am still a huge fan of the bath combo. It also makes the house smell incredible.

Note: Epsom salts are not the same as regular salts — they are actually a combination of magnesium and sulfate. Magnesium is supposed to assist the pain receptors in the body to settle down a bit, which is my layman’s explanation, but please be patient with me, as I’m learning this stuff right along with you. I do welcome your comments below if you have better explanations than mine.

This trifecta of goodness offers natural healing properties to soothe the nervous system, ease aches and pains, and evoke the aromatherapeutic effects of calm. I also get extra-excited when I can use real foods and ingredients as part of my wellness regimen, and all of the items can below are completely edible (as long as you use culinary lavender, but feel free to use either). Consider it comfort food:redux.

The next time you’re filling the tub with hot water, simply add in:
1/2 cup of buttermilk
1 cup of Epsom salts
drizzle of lavender essential oil

Climb in, close your eyes and let the stress disappear.

Variation

If you want to get some skin-soothing action in there, and prefer a dry mixture to make in bulk and store (just multiply the measurements below in proportion), prepare a dry mixture of the following:

1 cup Epsom salts
1/2 cup powdered milk
1 cup rolled oats
2 Tbsp lavender buds

Put all the ingredients in the food processor and grind to a fine powder. I make this in bulk and store it in a pretty jar in my bathroom. (It also makes a wonderful gift for your favorite stressed-out people.)

P.S. I’ve now also seen lavender Epsom salts available in drug stores, so if you can’t find or afford the real essential oil, this does work as a decent substitute, but will not afford you the true benefits of the oil, which you can find in natural health food stores or online at Sun’s Eye, where I get mine.

Let me know how it goes for you. It sure was good for me.

Our kooky day with Chef Tom Lewis of Monachyle Mhor continues, as we pay a visit to his Mhor Fish location, which combines a fish n chip shop with a seafood diner, including a cooking school upstairs.

We’ll have some of his cooking demos coming up later on the “Main Show”, but this is a Quick Bite!

A production of the Culinary Media Network.
www.culinarymedianetwork.com

We go out into the woods with Chef Tom Lewis of the Monachyle Mhor Hotel in Perthshire, Scotland, to forage for mushrooms. We met him in New York, and now we’re at his place in Scotland to discover how he uses the produce that grows wild around him in his cooking.

We’ll have some of his cooking demos coming up later on the “Main Show”, but this is a Quick Bite!

A production of the Culinary Media Network.
www.culinarymedianetwork.com

I spoke a little bit about it the other day, but let’s discuss the dynamic of afternoon tea in greater detail, for it is one of life’s greatest pleasures.

The Brits and Scots have mastered the introduction of sweets and a bit of caffeinated refreshment to the afternoon, and for that I thank them. To make a perfect cuppa, however, certain rules must be followed. I’ve been scolded by my mother for not letting my tea infuse, so please don’t be foolish like me, or she might feel it in the air and come find you.

Three minutes. Do not steep for less or your tea will be watery. She gets really mental about this. Milk comes after, unless you are serving a pot of tea, in which case you can add sugar and milk to the cup first, then pour the properly-steeped tea over the combo, which helps to stir it all together. Hey, they’re nothing if not uptightly efficient in the UK.

If you are not a baker, or have no access to lovely baked goods that are decorated with swirls of whipped cream and what not, at least treat yourself to a little biscuit of some kind. In the UK that means a cookie, and surely you can find a good cookie.

So create a sweet afternoon for yourself. Invite a friend over and take a moment to share a cuppa and a biscuit. Life will taste just a little nicer that day, and it won’t cost you but a quid or two.

If you are inclined to bake something yourself, I suggest some of the following biscuits:

Lavender Biscotti with Almonds
Chestnut Caramel Pound Cake
Hazelnut & Fig Linzer Cookies

P.S. If your tea preferences lean more toward spicy goodness, see my Honeyed Chai Tea recipe. In that case, it needs to steep for at least 15 minutes, or I’ll slap you.

Posted via web from foodphilosophy’s posterous

Every woman should feel like a princess once in a while. It makes the world a better place. After our long, winding journey south from the Scottish Highlands, we found ourselves on the lush grounds of a castle, and I felt right at home. (Shocking, I know.)

When I think of romantic, bucolic settings, Knock Castle in Crieff is what I picture in my mind’s eye. Aside from being an actual castle, which comprises a certain ancient mystique, there is a sense about the place of intimacy, respite and unpretentious welcome.

As I strolled through different parts of the grounds, I found myself conjuring up little stories — the romantic in me cannot resist when presented with such a canvas for creativity. In the lush gardens, I imagined lovers frolicking among the vivid blue of hydrangea, stealing into shady nooks for hidden kisses. The grass was so soft it felt like carpet beneath my feet, and I could picture many an afternoon spent picnicking on its inviting softness.

In the summer house, where we took afternoon tea, I pictured ladies awaiting their gents’ return from croquet, or perhaps a fox hunt. It was as if I stepped back in time and into the fairy tales in my head.

Note that I haven’t even gotten to the food yet. You’re already in love, aren’t you?

I also haven’t mentioned the rooms, private cinema, spa, incredible staff or chef/proprietor Jason Henderson.

Each room in the castle has a different theme, with most leaning more toward the masculine or feminine sides. Mum and I stayed in the Lady MacBrayne suite, which is the largest on the property, and the former suite of the Lady herself. (I am *so* high on the favorite child list right now.)

Our plush suite had a sitting room, two bathrooms (one with a spa tub), and a large bedroom. The sitting room has leather couches and a stained glass-framed bay window complete with seat to overlook the grounds.

Alas, I did not get a chance to experience the spa, which I think made me die a little bit inside, but this gives me a wonderful reason to go back. Now I just need to find a prince to come with me (feel free to leave your name and address in the comments section).

I did, however, get to spend some time in The Egg. Nanoo nanoo.

And while we’re on the subject of princes, let’s talk about the king of the castle himself. Chef Jason Henderson is the owner of Knock Castle along with his father and siblings, and the personal investment they’ve made is evident in every piece of the property, from the decor in each suite to the helicopters that assist guests in getting back and forth from major cities with ease.

Jason’s approach to cuisine is the kind that speaks to my soul, and after dinner we sat down for a long chat about food, cooking, its meaning for him, and his adventures in running a country hotel. As it turns out, we both worked for Relais & Chateaux, so we spent some time talking about the specifics of country hotels, and how different the dynamic is from managing larger hotels and restaurants. Look for that discussion on an upcoming Food Philosophy, because I couldn’t resist recording that exchange to share with you. Jason is the kind of chef I only come across once in a while, and such discoveries light up my inner gastronome like a neon lantern — perhaps he’ll spark something in you, too.

His commitment to the comfort of his guests is also very evident. I’ve stayed in a lot of country hotels where the service is polite, but either a little too intrusive or standoffish. Many times it can feel like you’re living in a fish bowl, which takes what could be a relaxing country stay and introduces a dynamic of odd discomfort. It seems that Knock Castle, however, has found an optimal balance of helpfulness and warmth, as we truly felt like guests in someone’s home, but with none of the bad parts. It was also clear this was a genuine way about the place, and not simply because we were there with our cameras — these people are authentically as sweet as toffee pudding.

Our respite at the castle was all too brief, but I’m most eager to go back. I’m actually working on some ideas to take you with me next time, so if I can bring that to fruition you might just become part of my fairy tale stories!

Thanks to Jason and his marvelous staff for a day very well spent. We can’t wait to see you again.

Our trip to Scotland starts off the right way with a tuck in to a good traditional Scottish Breakfast in Inverary. We’re here to learn a bit about Jennifer’s family heritage, and we’ve brought along her Mum!

A production of the Culinary Media Network.
www.culinarymedianetwork.com

When I visited Scotland for the first time with my mother in 2004, I didn’t have so much as an inkling what my life would be like 5 years later. At that time I barely knew a certain chef named Mark Tafoya, and though I had a food blog, it was the “old-fashioned” kind, without tags or permalinks or anything of the sort.

How wonderful it feels to know that now, in addition to sharing some snippets with you from the road, we’ve also captured some of my family’s history on video, and that story can now be shared with cousins from both sides of the pond, and even those in Australia — simultaneously. We are all taking part, whether virtually or in person, in Homecoming Scotland 2009 — and you are right here with me. Do you know how amazing that feels? For the first time you’ll get to see my mom go crazy for her sweeties, and share stories about putting on her Wellies and picking fresh mushrooms after a rainstorm. She is a very special lady, and those around her know it for certain, but now I get to share her with you, too. This trip was as much about her as it was about Scotland, and though we hauled her around through a pretty tight schedule, I hope she’ll be as pleased with the results as we hope to be.

We started our journey in Inverness, where she was born, and these pictures barely capture the bucolic majesty of the Scottish Highlands. It is a land of mist and green, with the first buds of heather just starting to peek out. Soon the hillsides will be resplendent with waves of purple, but for now there is a gentle tease of the colors to come. If you ever get a chance to see it first-hand, I implore you to do so, because the sight of those hills dotted with sheep and heather will take your breath away.

The most important stop of our “Heeland” journey was in Culloden, the site of the most famous battle in Scotland’s history. The first time I visited Culloden in ’04, I noticed that the cairn (monument) there was built by Duncan Forbes, my ancestor. I was so overcome with the magnitude of that battlefield’s history that I actually wept as I took it all in. I felt proud that our family commemorated the bravery of so many men, but was a little bit disappointed that the family name did not appear on any of the clan gravestones. This was a bit of a bummer.

What I didn’t know — and what truly blew me away — was that during the battle itself, an earlier Duncan Forbes was actually the Lord President of Scotland. This was getting good. I also discovered that members of the Forbes clan fought on both sides of the battle, but many fought under the name of the Mackintosh clan, so they were hidden in plain sight from mine eyes.

All of this wonderful news was delivered to mom and me by Hugh Allison, who joined us in full regalia (yes, that includes a kilt) to explain what happened during the battle. He even gave me a little lesson in weaponry, and I found that the swords are my kind of weapon. Of course, they do resemble knives, so that makes sense.

When we had afternoon tea at Culloden House afterward, I discovered that it, too, was owned by Duncan Forbes, and in fact housed the bed where Bonnie Prince Charlie slept the night before the infamous battle. This was all delightfully overwhelming, as I did not realize the weight the Forbes name carries in that part of Scotland. When I heard the sound of bagpipes as dinner was escorted in to the Culloden House’s guests, I did in fact get a bit misty. The sound of those pipes always stirs something deep in my soul.

Needless to say, Hugh Allison has become one of my new best friends, and he will join me for an upcoming Food Philosophy podcast to discuss the history of Culloden in further detail. We shot some video with him to give you an overview, so look for that to come out in the next couple of months. If you want to learn more yourself, you can read Hugh’s book Culloden Tales, which gives a moving account of the battle and clarifies that it was not, as many think, a battle between the English and the Scottish. As it turns out, there was a little bit of both on either side.

It is such an incredible feeling to find out where you come from. As a first-generation American I feel a little bit lost sometimes, like I am straddling the fence of three cultures (American, Scottish and Italian), but this helps to put it all in perspective, because all three comprise important parts of me. There is much more to tell, and it will all be done in due course, but I wanted to give you a little snippet of my experience so far. I also want to know if you’ve explored your roots in any way like this. Is it important for you to know where you come from? What blood runs through your veins? I hope you’ll post a comment if you’ve had a similar experience.

Now, I would be most remiss if I did not mention the joy that is afternoon tea. There is nothing quite like curing the afternoon blahs with a pot of tea served with sandwiches, cakes, biscuits and scones with a dollop of clotted cream. It’s downright decadent, and Mom dove in like a starved woman. (If it comes with whipped cream, she’s in.) The photos here are from our afternoon tea at Culloden House, which was incredibly inviting after a day of driving and touring.

Incidentally, I’ve noticed something interesting about myself in the UK, and it’s happened on the three separate occasions I’ve been here. If you know anything about me, it’s that I am a coffee freak. I live for coffee, could bathe in the smell of the beans, and simply can’t get enough. Unless I’m in the UK. Then all I want is tea, and I want many cups, all day long. I think it has to do with the chilly dampness in the air — nothing cures it like a cuppa.

I’ll try to send as many updates as I can from the road, so make yourself a cuppa and check back for more. We’re off to Wales tomorrow! You can also see more photos of our trip on my Facebook albums for the Highlands and Culloden.

In honor of National Tequila Day, I’m reposting our On the Tequila Trail video series. Cheers!

Join Chef Mark and Jennifer as they explore the Amitatan Valley of Jalisco, Mexico to discover the true soul of Tequila, from harvesting agave plants to quizzing people on the streets of NYC about their Tequila knowledge. Main lesson learned: Sip, never slam, fine Tequila.

Episode 1: The Soul of Tequila
Don Enrique Partida, who has spent his life growing blue agave, shares his poetic expression and passion for the plant. His estate-grown agave is cultivated, roasted and distilled to make Partida Tequila — and you’ll get to see every step of the fascinating process. But you won’t find any worms!

Episode 2: Rocks, No Salt – Luscious Tequila Cocktails

Episode 3: Sip It, Don’t Slam It

Episode 4: Tequila Re-Education

Episode 5: At the B.A.R.

On The Tequila Trail is a production of the Culinary Media Network (www.culinarymedianetwork.com/). Music courtesy of Talking Taco Music. Enchiladas Rojas by Frank Corrales and Ben Tavera King from Burning Desires, available as a CD and download at www.talkingtaco.com or www.amazon.com.

food, food podcast, tequila, On The Tequila Trail, Culinary Podcast Network, Culinary Media Network, Gilded Fork, Jennifer Iannolo, Chef Mark, Mexico, Partida

My friend Sam Sotiropoulos from www.greekgourmand.com joins me for a chat about all things food geek (and Greek), from ancient Greek history to how to find real feta in the supermarket. We have lots to say, so this is Part I.

In other news, our Gilded Fork: Entertaining at Home cookbook is now available! You can find it at https://shop.gildedfork.com, and heck, you can even help us to sell it (and make yourself some extra ching) by joining our affiliate program.

I’ve also included a little recap of our travels of late. Next stop: Scotland, Wales and the Costwolds.

Follow me on Twitter: @foodphilosophy
Follow Sam on Twitter: @greekfood

Food Philosophy is a production of the Culinary Media Network (www.culinarymedianetwork.com).

Music: Beau Hall (www.beaurocks.com), Evan Stone (www.asamandrummeth.com)

The first time I traveled to Scotland with my mother was in 2004, when the Culinary Media Network was a mere blog-type thing called “Gastronomic Meditations,” and my newsletter had about 4 subscribers. It was my first time there, and we were able to visit the house in which she was born — many, many moons ago. Don’t tell her I said that.

I wrote a few things about my discoveries then, so I thought I’d recap my first impressions (listed at the end of this post).

Next week Chef Mark and I are taking Mom back for a little retracing of the roots — this time on video. Incidentally, since she has thoroughly become an American despite the lingering Scottish lilt in her voice, I don’t call her Mum. She’d probably box my ears. Given the scare we had with her very serious heart attack last year, this trip is nothing short of a miracle, so I’m beyond grateful that we have the opportunity to do it at all.

2009 is a very special year for those of Scottish heritage, who have been invited to take part in Homecoming Scotland. For the entire year, the country has thrown open its doors to everyone of Scottish descent, so if there’s a trace of Bonnie Scotland in your blood, get your kilt over there lest you miss all the fun. Alas, we will arrive just after the largest clan gathering in history in Edinburgh; I would have been enraptured by big hulking men in kilts throwing telephone poles around, so it may be just as well.

Our journey will begin in Inverness, where my mother was born, and where our clan made its greatest impression (my ancestor, Duncan Forbes, built the monument at the Culloden battlefield). Then we will wind our way along the Whisky Coast, where we’ll visit some distilleries and sample a nip or two of Scotch. After that it’s down toward Glasgow for a visit with our pal Chef Tom Lewis of Monachyle Mhor — this part excites me terribly, because we’re going to make a clootie dumpling. That damnable recipe has eluded me for nearly a decade, and I *will* get it right. Though I am waiting for Mom to get after him while we’re in the kitchen if he doesn’t do something the way she remembers. This is going to be a hoot.

I’ll also be spending some time with my cousins in dear old Glaesgae, where they will speak to me in sing-songy tones I’ll barely understand, but we’ll laugh and drink and play music until the wee hours.

I’m hoping we have good internet access while we’re away so I can bring you along, but one never knows. “Access” is a relative term, I find. After our stint in Scotland we’ll be traveling on to Wales and the Costwolds, so this should be quite a fascinating trip. Lots more to come!

Ancient posts (2004):

Off to the Land of Haggis
A Trip to the Chippy
For the Love of Archibald

OK, I don’t watch television (the one I have here is unplugged and in a corner), but in this case I actually have a reason to promote a television show. You see, my pal Andy Husbands, chef/owner of Tremont 647 in Boston’s South End, is making his debut this week on Hell’s Kitchen.

Andy and I became friends in Boston many moons ago, when I was cutting my teeth in the food world, and I liked him instantly because he’s full of sass, piss and vinegar. He also makes a killer Tibetan momo.

Hell’s Kitchen premiers Tuesday night, July 21, at 8PM. I guess maybe I’ll go plug in the television.

If you don’t get a chance to see Andy, and whether he wins or not, I highly recommend that you sample his goods at Tremont 647. The Taco Tuesday menus always make my mouth water. Note: These are normally Taco Wednesdays, but they are holding them on Tuesdays until Andy’s time on Hell’s Kitchen runs out. Get thee to Tremont Street!

Good luck, Andy! Break a…knife? (Or perhaps the jaw of an obnoxious chef?)

Restaurant web site: www.Tremont647.com
Andy’s blog: www.fearlesschef.com
Andy’s cookbook: The Fearless Chef: Innovative Recipes from the Edge of American Cuisine

With the release of our first cookbook, The Gilded Fork: Entertaining at Home, we’ve been overwhelmed by the support from our loyal readers, listeners and viewers. Since many of you have been eager to help us spread the message about the book, we’ve created an affiliate program for that and the sumptuous products in our Gilded Fork Boutique.

Our affiliates will receive a 10% commission on all sales made from people you send through your affiliate link, on ANY products in the boutique, from the cookbook to artisanal olive oils, aged balsamic vinegars and flavored sea salts. We’re also adding some delicious new goodies in the next month or so, so if this is of interest you can simply sign up via the link below and we’ll activate your account. Each product is hand-selected by us for its quality and uniqueness, as we want nothing but the best in our store.

Affiliate Signup

(if the link doesn’t work, simply go to https://shop.gildedfork.com and navigate to the “affiliate program” signup page in the right hand column.)

You can use any of the graphics we’ve posted on Culinary Media Network (scroll down) to promote the cookbook and/or the boutique, and we’ll soon be adding more graphics for specific products.

Thanks once again for helping us bring this project to fruition. We hope to put a little extra money in your pockets — and ours! — and can’t wait to get this book out to the public!

Cooking is not a chore, it is a joy. Dining is not a fuel stop, it is recreation.
- Julia Child

“Full steam ahead.” It is a phrase that would serve as a mantra for the ebullient woman that was Julia Child. This giant of character, spirit, and stature changed the meaning of cuisine for a culture with its feet firmly implanted in a quagmire of frozen dinners and canned, limp ingredients.

(Here is where I am supposed to say: “We have come so far!” But have we? More on that in a moment.)

As a child, I was enthralled with Julia. Since PBS was the station of choice for my allotted television time, I often watched in piqued curiosity as she bombastically wielded her instruments around the kitchen. And that voice. Knowing no better, and given the name of her series (“The French Chef”), I assumed she was indeed French, and that she and her countrymen all spoke in that funny pitch. I distinctly remember being alarmed to discover she was American.

Because of Julia, I would often tie an apron around my waist and stand on a chair at my mother’s kitchen counter, ingredients and cookbook at the ready, prepared to speak to my audience. The window, a perfectly-centered camera, recorded every one of my gastronomic sermons. Given that my only talent at the time was for baking Snickerdoodles, I can’t imagine that my proselytizing was of much use to my viewers.

After reading Noёl Riley Fitch’s biography of Julia, Appetite for Life, it is easy for me to say that I admire this spirited cook even more now than I did before. Aside from being a true bon vivant and culinary legend, she was so fantastically independent in her thinking and actions that to me, she has become a personal hero.

At a time when it was taboo to do so, she remained single into her thirties, determined to marry a man about whom she was passionate, and with whom marriage would be fun. Her husband Paul fit the bill admirably, and became her beloved partner in every way possible. She railed against conventions she found insupportable, and staunchly believed that individuals should be responsible for themselves, turning her back on a president (FDR) whose policies she felt had gone too far in enabling the complacent.

What I loved most in exploring her life, however, was discovering that she had little patience for “trendy” food. She wanted good, solid cooking, and held disdain for the entertainment spectacle the industry became in the later years of her life (though one can certainly say she kicked it off). That she stayed true to her principles, and refused to sell out lest her objectivity lose its credibility, is a testament to her character.

Her lack of pretense made cooking an inviting topic for those who might initially feel daunted by taking on such a field of exploration. She handled mistakes with humor, and insisted they were the only way to learn. What a dame.

So, fifty years later, what have we learned?

Well, as I look around me, I see that despite her efforts, and the proliferation of cooking schools, shows, and chefs who spread the gospel, there are still woefully few who cook in this country. When I say “cook,” I mean not from a package.

Yes, the packages have gotten prettier, and the ingredients better (in some cases), but how does that translate into culinary knowledge? If people were paranoid about cholesterol in Julia’s time, look at their reactions to carbs now. I would love to hear Julia respond to being chastised for making a cake laden with white flour and sugar!

Her mission was to ignite the passions of would-be cooks, to show them that solid skills opened a world of sensory possibilities. She “brought a new aesthetic to food, one based on the centrality of pleasure and taste” (Appetite for Life, p. 299); “she celebrated her appetite, the joy of the kitchen, and the pleasure of food, a pleasure conveyed in the way she patted the bread dough and caressed the chicken” (p. 301).

One can see the impact of her influence: We have passionate amateurs who take knife skills classes, install magnificent kitchens in their homes, and fully embrace the sensual experience that is preparing a meal. A young woman named Julie Powell, seeking a meaningful experience, took Mastering the Art of French Cooking and set out to prepare each one of its recipes within a year’s time. She now has a book and a movie, and has garnered a legion of fans who cheered her on every step of the way. Some of her dishes were successful, and others a disaster, but the process evoked something powerfully fulfilling within her. For what task, in today’s world, could be more challenging (and frustrating) than teaching oneself traditional French technique — from a book?

But there are not enough of her — of us. There are too many who dine out for the sake of being fashionable, rather than for the gustatory experience. Cooking has become a circus, with a superstar in every ring. Those devouring the spectacle do not participate — they are armchair travelers and cooks who live vicariously through a television chef, wearing their virtual toques. Julia called them “fluffies” (p. 476).

To offer an eerie comparison from her time period: Poppy Cannon, the can-opener queen, occasionally appeared nationally on CBS’s Home show, demonstrating, for example, how to make vichyssoise with frozen mashed potatoes, one sautéed leek, and a can of Campbell’s cream of chicken soup” (p.296).

That same show, circa 2005, now appears five nights a week on the Television Food Network, touting “Semi-Homemade.” Everything old is new — and mind-numbingly unappetizing — again.

Those of us who do cook, however, savor the exploration of a world of ingredients, seeking knowledge of technique, history, taste, or the myriad of wonderful sensations to be found in the realm of gastronomy. Our need to satiate our senses is a tribute to the spirit of Julia Child, who understood why it is preferable to take a small taste of something wonderful, rather than a bowl of something lackluster (or god forbid, fat-free). As Fitch so eloquently concluded, “[Julia's] message was her philosophy of life: life is to be joyous, and joy comes from sensory pleasures shared with others” (p. 459). Amen.

Since this week marks what would have been La Grande Dame’s 93rd birthday, I will be sure to find myself a magnificent bottle of bubbly and offer a toast to her memory. For what you have brought to our lives, our country, and our cuisine, dear Julia, bon appétit.

Resource:
Appetite for Life by Noel Riley Fitch, © 1997 Noel Riley Fitch (Anchor Books).

This article was originally published in August 2007.

Though I would love to be indulgently pampering myself with a spa day right now, the very thought of such a luxury seems sadly far off. Having said that, my soul and skin need a little rejuvenation every now and then to keep the stress at bay.

For me, there’s nothing more sensually satisfying than baby-soft skin, and there are lots of ways to achieve this right at home. Here’s a little secret: Chefs swear by olive oil and kosher salt for exfoliating hands.

In the same vein, but a bit more delicate, is a scrub I use for my face: olive oil and table sugar. You only need a little of each to make a paste, and after delicately scrubbing your face with the mixture you’ll be left with silky smooth cheeks. And as a moisturizer it can’t be beaten.

Since I only use good olive oil in the kitchen, my face is treated to some extra-virgin goodness. What could be bad about that? :)

I’ve been experimenting with various home treatments, so I’d love to hear about your successes with them. Do you have any favorites?

Posted via web from foodphilosophy’s posterous

As you might know, it’s national berry month, and as I try to eat in season as much as possible (or at least grab the goods while they’re in season), this can mean berry doldrums for the rest of the year. However, more and more tips are becoming available for preserving fresh fruits and vegetables, and I received a tip on freezing strawberries this morning from Janie Hibler, author of The Berry Bible.

I’m liking this idea, as I can envision myself savoring strawberries with vanilla sugar over a nice shortcake come October or November. Can’t you?

Here are Janie’s tips:

- Rinse strawberries and pour them onto a baking sheet lined with a paper towel.  Pat dry with another paper towel.
- Put baking sheet in freezer until strawberries are completely frozen (about 2 hours depending on freezer temperature)
- Transfer strawberries to self-sealing plastic freezer bags and place back into freezer.

It really doesn’t get much easier. Hibler insists on freezing the strawberries in exact portions, such as pints and quarts, because strawberries become condensed when thawed (rendering them impossible to measure with accuracy).  She also recommends consuming frozen berries within a year for maximum freshness. “After that, ice crystals will start breaking down the berries’ flesh, and eventually they will lose their flavor,” adds Hibler.

You can see more ideas like this in The Berry Bible.

For berry information and recipes, you can peruse our test kitchen dossier, Berries: Naked Deliciousness.

It’s that glorious time of year when farm stands are beginning to overflow with the season’s finest. Given my tactile nature, I always find myself drawn to the piles of gently fuzzed peaches, seemingly awaiting my greedy touch. My favorites are the elbow-drippers — once you’ve tasted such decadence, it’s practically impossible to eat any other kind of peach.

And though peaches are wonderful on their own, there is something to be said for the allure of caramelization. I’ve grown quite fond of grilled fruits in the past couple of years, and this recipe has become a favorite: Grilled Peaches with Cinnamon Sugar

Simple and lustful, this recipe is ideal for using up that last bit of heat from the grill. You can substitute regular milk (or cream) for the coconut milk if you like. The peaches are a perfect foil for quality vanilla ice cream (look for the specks of vanilla!), and capture what is, for me, the essence of summer.

Posted via web from foodphilosophy’s posterous

With all that’s happening around us, I find that my decadent and frugal sides are like rival angels on my shoulders. The stress of keeping so many balls in the air to keep things moving forward — seemingly without a minute to breathe — leaves me utterly worn out, and there are times when I simply want to indulge myself. Of course, I also want to do this without making my wallet cry.

If you’ve read or heard me wax poetic on basil leaves, you know that I can find indulgence in seemingly ordinary places and things, so I’ve decided to share my favorite everyday ones with you. Let’s face it: We could all use a little pick-me-up. Some indulgences will be food, some non-food, but all will relate to engaging the senses without adding the stress of a big expense.

I hope you’ll share yours, too, because I might run out of ideas and will need to pilfer. Oh, stop, I’ll give you credit for it.

As you might imagine, for me, self-indulgence begins with scents, and I like nothing more than smelling deliciously edible. I’ve given up on synthetic-smelling perfumes and instead turned to essential oils to soothe my soul. It’s no secret that aromatherapy can have a profound effect on one’s state of being, and I can think of no better atomizer than the neck. Hair also smells gorgeous with a little drop combed through the ends. Yum.

I discovered the joy of citrus oils after a massage in Los Angeles (back when massages were actually part of my decadent life), so I knew the scent of oranges would send me to my happy place. I found a combination that took it to a whole new level, however.

So if you’re wondering what I smell like, here’s your chance to be a voyeur (sniffeur?). For the past few months I’ve slathered myself with Vanilla Orange Oil from Sun’s Eye. I love that there are tiny slivers of orange peel soaking right in the oil, so you get the full power of both scents. The only drawback is that it needs to be reapplied several times a day, but at $6.75 a bottle, how could I possibly complain about that?

I have other scents that I use for other moods and occasions, but I’ll share those as we go. ;) Did I mention that vanilla is reputed to have an aphrodisiacal effect on the senses? Try it and let me know what happens.

NOTE: You can subscribe to the special feed I’ve created for my Everyday Indulgences, which will include blog posts, audio, some video, and photos. (Note that it says “Everyday” and not “every day.” Have mercy.)

Posted via web from foodphilosophy’s posterous

Chef Mark and Jennifer attend a luncheon at Chef Aaron Sanchez’s Centrico Restaurant made with products from Chile: Merken spice, carica, myrtle berries, avocado oil, pisco, and more.

A production of The Culinary Media Network. www.culinarymedianetwork.com

Our Gilded Fork: Entertaining at Home cookbook is almost ready to ship, but the bun is still cooking and needs a little more time to brown.

As we hope you’ve noticed, we take a great deal of care in creating our work (understatement). We didn’t want to publish the book with any errors (the horror!), so we sent back the proof for another round of corrections. Once we approve the final version, our first big order will be placed, so we expect to have books in inventory and ready to ship in early July. We are currently doing an elaborate ritual dance to keep the printing gremlins away.

If you have already ordered a book, you received a love letter from us today, and we thank you so much for being first in line. We’re sorry we can’t kiss you in person, because we love that sort of thing.

Now, for you squillions and trillions of people who will be ordering books between now and July 31st, we’d like to extend some of that love. If you purchase our cookbook before July 31st, we’ll send a free download link to the full-color digital version of the book as soon as it’s available. That way you can print out those pages and get them all messy instead of your pretty book. You can also see the recipe photos in their full glory.

In addition, we’ve created a Friends & Family discount for you “early adopters,” so after purchase you’ll receive a special code to forward to your favorite fellow food fanatics. Say that five times fast. To learn more about the book, see our full list of annoucements, including a video of the unveiling of our galley copy. Or, you can just:

Buy the book!

It’s been months in the planning, and literally years in the creating — and we’ve finally received the galley proof of our Gilded Fork Cookbook! Here’s the moment of unboxing, the first moment we’re holding the book in our eager little hands!

Now, we’ve looked it over, and found a few teeny tiny things we’d like to fix, so in order to get you all a better product, we’re going to go through one more round of small edits and fixes before we approve it for printing, so it’ll be another week for those of you who’ve already pre-ordered the book, but the wait will be worth it!

If you haven’t yet pre-ordered, now’s your chance! If you pre-order now, your book will be shipped in the first batch we order, so you’ll h