Confit D'écureuil

While in Culinary School I experienced many things that would translate into good stories.

None better however than " Tim The Drunk - and the Amazing Oily Squirrels. "

This chapter could also be titled simply " Squirrel Confit".

I believe it is important for me to set the stage:
Attending culinary school as an adult who already fifteen years of food service under my belt was an experience in itself. The majority of the class were adults with the exception of John who at 21 was shy and nervous but still a welcome addition. Although as we moved through the blocks some folks joined us and some left most of the time there was six of us.
Kathy, a 40 plus Native American from Stafford Springs Ct. When Kathy and I met she stated that she could cook a Blueberry pie in the ground but registered for school because she needed the basics to start her own business. Kathy was good.
Tim, at 50 a mid- life career changer. I felt that Tim was hiding something when he stated he left a lucrative career in insurance to pursue his passion - cooking. He was not very good and his mannerism spoke of something all together different.
Corey, mid twenties - a huge dude from Texas, living in Waterbury with his folks. A self professed alcoholic, who told me that I should keep an eye on him because when he drinks he hurts people and cars that he is driving sometimes flip over. I later found this to be painfully true. Corey had skills but, what I discovered was his addiction overpowered his cooking.
John - who I mentioned before , about 21 a Polynesian American. John bounced around for a couple of years after high school taking a college class here and landing a job there until his folks told him to find a path. Cooking was his path. His parents footed the bill.
Jason, a red headed dude in his mid twenties with some good solid talent and the passion. He loved the baking end of it and I think he went onto a bakery in Hartford. Jason I think joined us mid- point at one of the blocks and stayed to the end.
So as we as going through the blocks we must have been a pain in the ass to the administration. Mostly prompted by me we had a couple of issues with the pastry and baking instructor. She stated one day that she could cook us all under the table. I believe she may have been intimidated by a class with experience and not fresh out of high school. When we felt things were being dealt with incorrectly or not going well, we would speak up. I think we had a half dozen conferences with the administrator.
One of the other issues we had was with our classmate Tim. About halfway through the third block and usually about an hour or so into each class Tim would begin to change. He would go missing for a few minutes at a time. I busted him one day with a "SODA" that he kept filling up and then going out to his car to top off with vodka. I could not smell anything so I took a nice gulp of his "SODA" and got a good kick of booze. So we went to the director and stated our class experience was suffering and our safety was in jeopardy and we expected him to deal with Tim, who we now called affectionately TTD or Tim The Drunk. We could not stand for a participant in class being stewed daily. The director met with TTD and he cooled off on his drinking in class most days, as far as we could tell. But one day he arrived late, and had obviously been hitting the Gordon's hard. The instructor was looking for the director to give TTD the once over to see if he should let him stay. TTD went out back to smoke a cigarette while the chef and director decided his fate.
Behind the school in the parking lot was of course the dumpsters for trash, the grill and two 55 gallon drums to hold the oil for the recycling company. The drums were usually covered but sometimes the covers would not be put on correctly and would slide off. TTD is out there smoking and notices a little commotion at the drums. The natives were restless he thinks. TTD ventures behind the dumpster when he is scared shitless by something bouncing and sloshing around inside of the drums. He composes himself and goes to take another look. Both of the drums were uncovered, and TTD sees motion in the liquid in the almost full drums. TTD realized something or someone was drowning in those drums.
He later stated " It could have been a baby".
TTD proceeds to tip over the drum closest to the dumpsters. Fifty plus gallons of rancid used cooking oil spills into the parking lot and starts to spread across the landscape. At the bottom of the drum of course are the charred remnants of French fries and onion rings in addition to the prodigal breading that had fallen off the food during the cooking process. So the top layer is a translucent brown oil. The bottom layers hold something all together different. A stinky, oily, gummy mess spreads out for hundreds of feet into parking spaces where people have their cars parked. TTD's feet are drenched in oil. This was the bad part. The really bad part was that TTD tipped over the wrong drum. The sloshing continued. Apparently there were babies drowning in the "other" drum. TTD now proceeds to tip over the other drum. This drum gave way to a drippy, confused, almost dead squirrel who rode that oil flow like the flume at Six Flags about thirty feet into the parking lot. The only thing missing was the picture that gets snapped when you are making that face you make as you get drenched. He gets across the parking lot and kind of stops in his tracks stunned, and tips over. TTD in full drunken rescue mode starts after the greasy rodent, fully intent to perform mouth to mouth if needed. ( I forgot to mention TTD claimed to be a trained EMT also) He takes his first step and goes ass over cranium into the gritty mess that lies at his feet. He attempts to right himself on the ground and puts his hands into the crunchy sludge that he is now covered with. He feels something odd. Something greasy and solid but hairy and really out of place. TTD placed his hands into a gooey chunk of culinary history.
*****************Squirrel Confit*******************
So it seemed that Six Flags Flume Riding Squirrel was not alone. Total between the two drums there were four other squirrels. Preserved in fat. SFFRS had survived his little squirrel buddies had not. TTD said he thought the squirrel he saved was trying to save his squirrel pals. TTD was ( as my Father would say) a whack job.
Now for those of you not familiar with the term Confit allow me to offer this description:
Confit - is a generic term for various kinds of food that have been immersed in a substance for both flavor and preservation. Usually the preparation uses animal fat for cooking and keeping. Sealed and stored in a cool place, confit can last for several months. So on this day a new recipe was born.

TTD was forced to pay for the cleanup of the hundreds of gallons of oil and the disposal of the petrified rodents. He did eventually graduate with us and went on to some high end place in Hartford as a prep cook.

I took three of my fellow classmates and opened up Lighthouse Catering LLC. in Willimantic. This is another chapter altogether.

As always the truth is more bizarre than fiction.

Well Lubed - I bid farewell TheFoodNomad

These Two Jesters- A Nomad Tale

Once upon a time a long, long time ago in a land far, far away there was a place called the West Street Grill. There were two jesters who met there. They sweated and toiled. They fumbled and foiled. Their paths the same. Their minds untamed. Their futures aligned. Their recipes sublime.
The two jesters found their way through the darkness and met on the Garden Path. They joined hands in a way that was not too gay and marched through the kingdom bringing good eats and good laughs to the masses.
This land was ruled by two kings. These two kings were from two different countries - both ruling in a strange land. These two kings were lost in their own preferences. One king was from Judea, an ancient land with ancient laws. The second king, diminutive in stature was from a Celtic Kingdom. The king from Judea was fair and honest but sometimes confused and misguided. He moaned and groaned and bellowed. He mispronounced and had a gassy way about his royal arse. The Celt was argumentative, prejudiced, and generally just a bore. The Celt, who by the way was rather troll-like, spoke of himself as possessing a great wealth of knowledge and cuisine. However this was not the case. These two kings found late in life that they each greatly enjoyed the salty taste of the other king's scepter. Therefore in their eyes there was no need for queens.
The two jesters struggled with the kings of this land. Both kings self absorbed in their own bizarre agendas of how the kingdom should be. Chives on this, Dill on that, Don’t rinse the fishes! Many days in the kingdom their rule wrought total confusion.

Fortunately the jesters had each other. The jesters shared food and drink. They shared merriment and sadness. These jesters made their way through the woods and mountains, through the creeks and the foothills. These two jesters kept their own sanity by doing what jesters do… making light of the court and its misgivings. They created diversions for the surfs and wenches. They invented the Rollercoaster, and other whimsical forms of wonder.

The kings would bicker - my way, my way it’s the best ! I am the Concept King… I am the king of the riches. I am in charge …. no me, it's me. Their bizarre behavior kept the kingdom on the edge and out of their minds.
The kings were not liked by the rulers of the other kingdoms. These foolish kings owed the neighboring kings much unpaid wealth for the purchase of cattle and swine, for the fruits of the land and the fishes of the seas. The other kingdoms supplied mead and grog for the two buffoon kings and also went unpaid. The two jesters had to field complaints and rebuttal from the suppliers of the kingdom.

This kingdom had many wenches and surfs. And the kings would summon them, to keep abreast of the climate of the kingdom. The surfs would usually comply. The surfs would scurry and fetch, scrub and wretch. Dig and sow, plant and plow. The wenches, not so much. Dem bitches was pretty tough. The mead and grog flowed from the pantry of the kingdom into the bellies of the wenches, surfs and jesters. These peasants grew weary and intoxicated from the daily bickering and the lack of guidance. The jesters did their best to keep the kingdom free from grief and sorrow. But this was a difficult task considering the unrest in the kingdom. The people came and went and ate of the spoils of the kingdom, unknowing of the truth.

The two jesters were accompanied by other jesters at times. These other jesters however were fat and lazy and dumb as wombats. They partook in the burning of the forbidden herb. They stood close as the fields of the forbidden herb burned and breathed in its acrid but soothing clouds. This made these other jesters fatter and lazier. Sometimes they breathed in so much forbidden smoke that their cerebellums oozed out their ears and onto the castle floor. They would scoop it up with a fish spatula and try to ring the gray matter back into their ears but to no avail. The brain mass was forever lost. These other jesters were spent. Eventually the other jesters went on their way helped along by the consumption of the plumes of smoke from the forbidden herb and usually by a local constable.Then other jesters would take their places. But the two jesters remained, their bonds and plutonic man love growing every day.

The kings would sometimes take in young surf boys into their chambers. Not really, really young surf boys but young enough for it to be creepy. Maybe more appropriately they should be called young surf men. These young surfs saw the opportunities that arose from the walking of the royal dogs and the tending of the royal garden and would last only a few weeks. These young surf men would pilfer some royal jewels and be on their way, never to be seen again.

The two jesters grew weary of these kings and their manner of ruling the kingdom. The jesters did their very best not to be persuaded by the kings and their sorry ways. And the jesters did their very best to keep up the spirits of the wenches, the surfs and the masses. They fought long and hard, and kept the nobility front and center in all they did. This was in spite of the kings misgivings.
Then one day, one jester- jester two, went to the royal bank to draw his wage. A pittance against his TRUE worth. The royal banker had some bad news. " The royal bank has no wage for you noble jester" said the teller. " The two kings have squandered their riches on themselves. The second jester remembered a time when the first jester told him… " The day that the royal bank cannot produce my wage is when I will depart this kingdom."

These two jesters went on their merry way, They never looked back and they remained fast friends. The bonds they built in this kingdom of fine food and drink could never be frayed. Although they went on to different kingdoms many days apart, they stayed in touch. The ways of the foolish kings could not spoil the friendship.

To this day many, many years later the jesters remain in touch. Each of their lives full and happy. The two kings, still stuck in their rut remain clueless in the kingdom of Ridgefield.
The jesters lived happily ever after.
I sign off Nomad - Jester 2.

The Personal Chef A Personal Journey

Back in Connecticut along with the catering business I had a Personal Chef business. First let's define a Personal Chef.
A Personal Chef is a chef who prepares meals for a client in the client's home kitchen, based on the client's needs and personal preferences. In most cases these meals are left packaged in containers and refrigerated or frozen for the client to enjoy later. Some personal chefs, however, instead focus on cooking for dinner parties and other special occasions in the client's home, which means they are responsible for shopping, preparing the meal, serving the guests and cleaning up afterward. The menu is preplanned and discussed with the client, then prepared in their home. According to health-department guidelines, all food must either be prepared in the home of the client or in a kitchen that has passed an official health inspection.
Note that a personal chef is distinct from a private chef, which refers to a chef who is employed exclusively by one client, and in some cases lives in the client's home.
The business was a blast. I got to spend a good amount of time in shopping in supermarkets across Connecticut. I am at home in the supermarket. I was raised in a supermarket family. My father was an ICON at the Atlantic & Pacific Tea Company. My older siblings cut their teeth at supermarket registers in Brooklyn and Queens. I would shop in full chef regalia, right down to the Dansko clogs. This generated conversation and additional business. I landed a dozen or so jobs from being in public in chef garb. I joined the American Personal Chef Association and put together a website and got liability insurance. I advertised in some local papers and with flyers in some high end markets and I was off to the races.

I did culinary demonstration for dozens of clients. I did Pad Thai for a company called Thai Kitchen at the Connecticut Convention Center in Hartford. I worked two nine hour days at $35.00 per hour and I gave away about 3000 samples. Thai Kitchen paid all expenses and outfitted me with product. I was in front of about 10000 people those two days and caught two well paying gigs from that weekend.

From that job I demonstrated butternut squash soup for The Beth El Temple in West Hartford.

I worked for Chabaso Bakery in New Haven at various community events all over the state. Chabaso was the commercial bakery offshoot of Atticus bakery that was founded at Yale. I booked dinner parties and pig roasts and barbeques.
The personal chef business also provided meals for clients prepared in their homes. I had about 24 regular clients

These folks were either too busy or had allergy or dietary concerns. Some of them were just too fat to get their asses out of bed and cook. I had a client that weighed 4000 pounds. He had arms the size of buffalo. This guy had more chins than a Chinese phone book. His mom had been feeding him cream cheese and Ritz crackers in bed since he was four. I cooked in an Army stock pot for him 8 gallons at a time. One time he ate his sofa after his mom covered it in Fluff and raisins. ( I made that one up sorry ).

I had a client who were brother and sister and whose doctor had them convinced they were allergic to everything under the sun. Seeds, nuts, berries, fruit, grain, butter, peanut butter, Nutterbutter, gluten, Rasputin. I went to their house every two weeks. I cooked there and packaged up 30 meals. I froze some and refrigerated others. They were kind of creepy to be honest. I thought they may have been "doing it".

I landed a client family who ran a business out of their home so there were there while I prepared. I made them a deal that the night of my visit I would serve the family a hot meal. On my second visit I dropped an oven stuffer roaster on the kitchen floor and it rolled down the basement stairs like a Brunswick bowling ball with legs and wings. There was chicken juice everywhere. The husband was there and witnessed the fiasco. He told me to just rinse it off and serve it. I refused and put together a pasta dish with the side veggies that I had made for night. He was impressed.

I was booked for an Oktoberfest event for 100 people in Middlebury Ct. The client was a big lawyer, a Yale grad who wanted to impress his clients. I enlisted the assistance of my friend Chef Gerald McDonald. A consummate professional with a penchant for Irish Whiskey. He was like a scaloppini ninja as he carved up veal leg for Weiner Schnitzel. We worked out of a rented kitchen in Naugatuck Ct.. My two oldest kids worked that event and made a hundred bucks each for the night. The gig went off without a hitch and the folks called me the next two years to come back.
We took care of an exclusive engagement party in Darien Ct. for some investment bankers daughter. The day of the event the dad dropped a marble chess board on the glass Jenn-air electric cook top and shattered it. She called me frantic at 2:00 PM. I stopped at restaurant supply house in Bridgeport on the way south and picked up some back up supplies. We cooked on butane burners in the garage. This also was a wonderful party no issues and a happy client. Always have a contingency!

You could not make this stuff up ( except for the 4000 pound guy). It was like the restaurant business on the go. Everything had to be ready on site. It taught me valuable business and food service lessons, in addition to management and customer service skills. I almost lost my shirt but I would not have traded it for the world.
It has been a great pleasure sharing this one because it strikes so close to home. I implore you all to chase your dreams. It is worth it. For you youngin's I suggest you find something you love and figure how you can make money at it.

I thank you all for your support. I thank you all for reading and remind you to click like banshees on my advertisers. One or two clicks per visitor and I can afford to come to YOUR house and cook a gourmet meal.
I bid a fond farewell - I would love to see more followers so share with your friends on Face book. Sign up to follow on Google, and watch for some tweets, which are coming soon. A special Hello to my buddy Gerald who I believe has had occasional questionable relations with Beef Tripe.

Nomad

Amorini Panini - The Panini Done Right !

Greetings devoted disciples, I thank you all for your loyalty. I would love to see some comments so I know you are out there.
I recently posted my homage to Grilled Cheese. There is however a grilled sandwich that can take all manner of ingredients and morph into whatever your heart desires.

• Meatsncheese
  


• Tomatoesnonion
  


• Baconneggs
  


• Pastraminkraut
  


• Roastbeefnhorseradishncheese

The sky and your culinary imagination are the limit. As a single dude I had one of those Proctor Silex sandwich makers with the non stick coated surface. My best friend Joey used to say " Dude I could sit down with a loaf of white bread and a pound of American cheese and one of those machines and just go to town."

Toasty - Melty- Crispy. OMG its all good.

THE PANINI

I was in downtown DC and visited Amorini Panini this past week. On the 900 block of F Street NW which is a great block filled with great shops, this storefront offers up some wonderful sandwiches. The place is walking distance from Treasury and a dozen museums and attractions. The International Spy Museum is right up the block.
The name sums it up - Love for the Panini.
The space itself is phenomenal . The interior is finished in bright colors - raw wainscot and exposed brick. On the walls hang vintage photo's of DC that look like they have been pulled from the National Archives. The guy behind the counter has this infectious smile, a great manner and killer customer service skills.

We tried the Caprese, The Turkey Rueben and The Montana Buffalo Chicken . All were on the money. Great crust on the bread. Nice caramelized grill marks and a hearty crunch. The Turkey Rueben was stacked with just the right amount of high quality pastrami. The Caprese was a great non meat offering. They smear this excellent Pesto spread on the bread which is a great finish. I truly love hot tomatoes and this sandwich made the trip worthwhile. Moist and melted and full of flavor.

The Montana Buffalo Chicken deserves it own paragraph - Chunks of moist chicken well marinated in hot sauce- pepper jack cheese and thin sliced green peppers. This one was stuffed with plenty of meat and cheese and cooled by a dollop or ranch dressing.

I read up on some Yelps on this place and the general feeling is that these guys have got a good thing going on. And finally - they have diet Dr. Pepper.

Check them out online before you go:

http://www.amorinipanini.com/

If you are in the area- give these folks a try. I consider it a great bargain where most sandwiches are under $6.00.

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Old Ebbitt Grill

I recently had the opportunity to visit Old Ebbitt Grill in DC. The landmark institution with a vast checkered history was reminiscent of the Old Homestead in NYC, where I spent several years working in a couple of different positions. Dark mahogany covers every inch of the Corner Bar where I planted myself literally at the corner. I was jonesing for oysters and I found the half price happy hour raw menu to be just the ticket. Mike the bartender who had the look of a wayward but friendly prizefighter of yesteryear was quiet but attentive and hospitable. I ordered an Absolute Martini Straight Up - Dirty. ( look it up if you are so inclined and not well versed). The first one was true perfection. Ice cold- Chilled glass- huge olives and enough cloudiness to know Mike had spilled in plenty of brine. Mike chuckled when I requested a bigger glass. No need to worry, I was on foot for the night.
The corner bar room was like being in the real life trophy room of the guy who crafted the original Duck Hunt. There is a gun cabinet behind glass and filled with all manner of rifles. The room is filled with what appeared to be migrating Snow Geese bolted to the ceiling, Plovers and Mallards. There is a huge statue of a retriever perched in the window ready to pounce. Faux copper gaslights hang from the ceiling. If I had to describe the Corner Bar in a few short words It would be intimate, familiar and clubby. ( Not Cubby from the Mickey Mouse Club- he's different)
Now for the raw part of it. Ebbitt's has a phenomenal raw menu. The deal of the decade is Happy Hour 3-6 Mon - Thurs. Half price on the Half Shell. Pay full price for well made drinks and get fresh raw seafood at a true half price. If you enjoy the briny love that is raw oysters and clams please do yourself a favor and stop in. They have several combination platters which at half price are well worth the trip.



I ordered a dozen assorted oysters, the offering was as follows:

• Harpswell Flats Me.
  




• Mayflower Point Ma.
  




• Raspberry Point PEI
  




• Watch hill RI.
  

All the shellfish met or exceeded my expectations. I slurped some plain, some with the mignonette, and several with the cocktail sauce. I believe there were some Wellfleet on the platter also. I do have to mention that the final oyster was rather funky and muddy but I survived. The libations and the oysters put me In a good place. I kept texting company with UD and was thankful for his electronic camaraderie.
The menu offered something for everyone. There were wraps and burgers, several sandwiches and the higher end grill offerings. I spent the majority of my time with the next three barstools empty. However, half way through my raw experience I was joined by the Double-hat twins. Double baseball hat, Double flannel shirt, Double pints and Double bowls of Chili. Papa bore a resemblance to a chubby Richard Dreyfus and sonny-boy was a Denny Hamlin lookalike. Well behaved and welcome but they seemed a little out of place. Their Chili arrived with some raw onion and looked beefy and delicious. I think I made mike a little nervous with my note taking but I took good care of him and we parted ways mutually content.
I will return. Most likely between the hours of 3-6 PM.
I thank you all for visiting and ask that you frequent my advertisers with a click or two, Daddy needs a new pair of shoes, and those clicks keep me well heeled.
What's next ??? Its Pressed Its Melted It’s a Classic and Its nearby.

******Stay tuned*******
I sign off Wardamon- Thank you for choosing

Chinatown Express

In the heart of DC's Chinatown, a block from the Friendship Archway is Chinatown Express. The banner outside says it’s the best lunch bargain in DC. This basement dive offers the ducks and chunks of pork hanging in the window reminiscent of New York's Chinatown. The chef in the window does a constant dough ballet as he prepares the dough for the noodles and the dumplings. He has a twisting, stretching, braiding and resting technique that is pretty cool to watch. We tried seafood dumplings and steamed pork buns which were a bargain for the price. The dumplings were well flavored and the sauces were excellent. The steamed pork buns also at 10 for $5.00 were a great bargain.

The others ordered fried noodles with chicken -$6.50- I got fried noodles with seafood, spicy, also for just $6.50. The noodles were the highlight. They were soft and flavorful and seasoned just right. My seafood had a great kick to it but the main ingredients were lacking. A few shrimp and some sliced squid. Overall very tasty and quite authentic. The key word here is cheap. Dirt Cheap - Pun intended.
The place is dirty. The basement entrance leads to all three floors and I believe a second building next door. The stairs are narrow and the place really needs a good scrubbing.

I am sure there are problems with vermin. I remember working at the Old Homestead in Manhattan. The restaurant was in a four story building. There were apartments upstairs. They had such a horrible infestation they paid to have the entire building sealed with plastic sheeting over the windows and fumigated.They had to put the residents up in a hotel for a couple of nights. This sealed gigantic roach motel had to remain that way for 10 hours. CE may need a full sealed fumigating also.
The service is quick but by no means friendly or accommodating. The turnover is such that the wait staff really does not have to try so hard. If each server does 80 covers at $2.00 tip a guest they make a pretty good wage for the day without any extra effort.
Here is the clincher- the bathroom is on the top floor. From the basement that’s three full flights. No lights - really spooky and since the building was an apartment building before the third bathroom is complete with a tub and shower curtain and 1960's medicine cabinet with cracked mirror. The bathroom is also not too clean ( that’s being gentle).

As a bartender in New York we used to shut down the bars at 4 AM in Rockaway Beach and head to NYC for the authentic Chinese feel. We went to Wo-Hop a 24 hour institution worthy of the trip. Sauteed garlic snails and frogs legs at sunrise as we sat with the kitchen workers from the other local resturaunts. Remember its always a good sign when going to an ethnic place that the business is frequented by people of that nationality. CE also was filled with Asian people for lunch.

So maybe for CE a takeout order is the best deal. You get the noodles and the authentic flavors but you are not subjected to the environment. I think you also get a free soda.

I have read some reviews and they generally say the same thing. I have to confess I will go back- eyes wide shut.

I am sure however if I search I can find a noodle house that may be just as good and clean too.

I sign myself- Always Searching






牧民的食物

Happy New Year

Happy New Year


Well the people have awoke up to the aroma of French Onion Soup. Caramelized onion in a rich beef stock simmered low and slow has made the New Year a hearty one. I deglazed with some Port wine and finished it off with sherry. The first round of tasters said " just like in the restaurant " . When the medium sized females joined the festivities it was clear :
"Better than any restaurant " stated Beans.
I sliced some really crusty French bread thick and let it stale on top of the fridge. I cut my onions two ways - sliced like you would an onion ring and then against the layers. I wanted a couple of ranges of mouth feel.

I used Vidalia, Yellow and Red Onions about 4 pounds. I had frozen beef stock from a bygone beef stock making weekend and I helped it along with a few cans of Swanson beef broth. I started with 1 stick of whole salted butter on low in the big stock pot while I began cutting the onions. I also used 3 large cloves of organic garlic ( from Weggies) which I ground into a paste with kosher salt. I did this because I wanted the garlic flavor but I did not want little chunks of minced garlic on the spoon. This is French Onion soup not French Garlic soup. I cooked those onions on low for about 25 minutes and then cranked it up to medium high. This is when the magic began. The onions started to caramelize and stick to the bottom. I worked them around and scraped as I went along. The Med/Hi process went on for about 12-15 minutes. I deglazed with a half cup of Port wine and simmered some more. No seasoning yet. I reduced the port to au sec. I added Kosher salt and fresh pepper and some Lea & Perrin's Worcestershire and that’s it ! I added the thawed beef stock and the three cans of beef broth. Slow simmer for about 30 minutes hit it with a few ounces of dry sherry and shut it down. I suggest a night in the fridge to allow the flavors to marry. Next year I will make this one the day before.
I pulled the familiar brown crocks from their nested homes. We have a full contingent maybe 10 in all, with covers. I found some Equal packets in one and a small diamond stud earring in another. All the remaining crocks were clear. I washed and rinsed them checking for any crusty cheese residue from days gone by. I tossed the bread onto a sheet pan for a final crusting and into a 275 oven. I built each crock with very very (or Werry Werry as they say on Cake Boss) hot soup - a chunk of bread and a combination of Swiss and Fontina. Baked under the broiler for about 6 minutes or until bubbly and lightly browned.
A new Smith holiday tradition is born.

While all of this was going on I was fortunate enough to Skype with Melissa and Clare, my daughter-in-law and granddaughter. Clare stated unequivocally through her various squeaks and roars that she could not wait to try Nompii's soup. There is always next year baby girl, next year.

I bid you adieu
Damondoof

Sabbatical

Sorry to keep you all in suspense for so long. I have just finished a few months in Turkish Prison, Midnight Express Style. I was caught trying to get out with 8 cups of really good Couscous on me and did not have the correct papers. So I bribed a few officials and stabbed some guy in the buttocks with a rusty fork and here I am back on the Blog Saddle.

Ok lots of developments, but first allow me to share my idea.
A grilled Cheese and French Fry Place. Imagine the parings ?

" I will have the marble rye with Fontina and Genoa Salami served with waffle cheese fries, well done."

"I would like sourdough white with honey turkey and Swiss served with the curly fries topped with cheese."
Good for the heart ? No but good for the soul. It would have to be in a college town. preferably downtown near some concentration of people. By the police station, the hospital, a couple of office buildings etc….


Pick your bread - pick your cheese - pick your fries.
I would slide in a few homemade soups (Tomato- for sure) would round out the menu. Toppings for the fries, squeeze in a few vegetarian options like Eggplant and soy cheese and you off to the races

Well while you folks go out an open a few of these places I will be busy pursuing the perfect French Onion Soup. I hereby declare by the order of the king of the world (Alton Brown) that the first of January is officially French Onion Soup Day. Not to make you feel bad but now aren't you pissed that you sold all those little brown crocks at the last garage sale ?

You see I recently had the chance to taste some French Onion Soup. It was marginal at best. They tried to fortify it with some shredded beef but it did not stand up on its own. So I am off this morning while the family, a few teenage visitors and Mom are sleeping off the pot banging from the night before to lay my hands on some Vidalia and Bermuda onions and get the carmelization going. This will now be another Smith Family Holiday Tradition. Each New Years Day will be greeted by a hearty beefy cauldron of steaming onions swimming in liquid brown love.
Happy New Year from he who wanders palette in hand for the next great taste.

I sign myself forever in you bellies -TheFoodNomad