Tell the World

Archy asks if one oils or foils a baked potato.

Poke holes in the skin to avoid steam build up exploding the potato (honest-- not a terrorist weapon) all over your oven unless you like cleaning the oven.

Oven roast potatoes are peeled, thereby avoiding steam build up and placed in boiling water for a few minutes (3 to five) then drained. Then add oil, salt and pepper, and swish them around and place on the rack beside the roast. The oil plus the softened outer layer of potato turns crisp and brown and tasty.

Wrap potatoes in foil with a bit of butter to throw on the barbie or camp fire.

Best is Angelo Pellegrini's recipe for adult fries: Mix cut potatoes with salt, pepper, fresh rosemary and olive oil. When well covered pour into an oven proof dish and bake at 400 degrees f. for about 40 minutes. Turn about half way through.
All your problems will disappear.
--ml
Cross posted to Archy's comments
tags: Dum Luks Ordinary, potatoes

Sickies' Soup

The Kid^tm came home from her day at college and asked if she could have some lemony soup. This is loosely based on Avgolemono. I make it whenever any household member has a stuffed head.
Of course chicken soup is where you start. Make a broth if you are in to that or just brown a few pieces of chicken in some oil or fat with an onion coarsely chopped. Today I used two legs, but a breast would also do. When the chicken is browned and the onions are translucent, add a quarter cup of garlic, two or three pieces of smashed ginger root, a half teaspoon of cayenne, a can of chicken stock and two cans of water. If you have hot peppers add them. Also chop and add a rib of celery, a carrot, a bit of red and/or green pepper, and whatever else looks good for the pot. Some cauliflower and broccoli went into mine today with a couple of mushrooms. After the stock begins to simmer add a half cup of rice or orzo or barley. When that is cooked add a lemon. You can add it as grated rind and juice or as sliced whole lemon. When you are almost ready to serve add any leafy greens you might have: cilantro or parsley or watercress or cabbage or mustard greens etc. You can also add an egg by mixing it in a bowl with a cup of hot stock and while still stirring pouring that into the pot. Or you can pour a lightly beaten egg into the hot soup while stirring to make an egg drop soup effect.
What goes into this soup depends on what is in the cupboard, not a particular recipe. Add herbs as you like. The main thing about it is that the spicing is meant to blow the top of the sickies head off so that the mucous drains. You know you have it about right when the sickie can just taste the garlic and peppers or cayenne, while it is as spicy hot as the well ones can stand. Tell them it is insurance.
--ml
tags: Dum Luks Ordinary, chicken soup

Real Swedish Pancakes

Every year a local group throws a pancake breakfast to raise money for their good purposes. One in particular, in an area with lots of Scandahoovians and their descendents, features Swedish pancakes. One year we decided to attend to see what these were like. They were very good, worth the wait which was more than the money because lots of people came. You know Swedish pancakes? Light, eggy, served with berry jam and sour cream. They are somewhere in the vicinity of crepes and blini.(If the links disappear search 'Swedish Pancakes' on the Food Network)
I mentioned our jaunt to Del who gave voice:
"Oh, yes. They are quite tasty and the men have so much fun playing chef while the women organize them. But they aren't real Swedish pancakes. They are something you might find in Aunt Agatha's Tea Shoppe in Stockholm, But real Swedes would laugh it back to the kitchen."
Did I mention that Del was half German and half Sicilian? So of course he knew.
He gave me the following recipe which, I cheerfully admit, makes a wonderful pancake -- particularly if you plan to split a cord or three of firewood that day.

Real Swedish Pancakes
Del

Mix 4 cups rolled oats, 1 cup flour, ¹/₄ cup sugar, 2 teaspoons soda, 2 teaspoons baking powder, and a pinch of salt.
Add 4 beaten eggs, 4 cups buttermilk, ¹/₂ cup melted butter, 2 teaspoons vanilla.
Stir. Let stand 45 minutes to thicken.

Do NOT add more liquid.

Fry on griddle by spoonfuls.

The warning is apt. The temptation to dilute -- while great -- must be resisted. I have kept the batter overnight in the fridge and for as much as a week without apparent ill effect. That's strange considering that the baking powder and soda, once wet, should loose their leavening power in less than a day.
Also this recipe scales nicely. Divide the major quantities by four and the leaven and vanilla by half for a modest breakfast for four or six. At The Kid's^tmrequest I occasionally use a waffle iron instead of a griddle.
Waffles: Better butter and syrup traps.
--ml
tags: Dum Luks Ordinary, Del Stories, breakfast

Meditation Mantra

We know that science can proceed along a false or misleading path for a long time when the cultural biases of the scientists lead research.

-- John Hawks Anthropology

Science is a bitch discipline. Nothing is taken for granted. Assumptions are the most deadly opponents. Beliefs too often masquerade as facts. Facts that all us monkeys agree make reality. Before you know it fiction is truth.
--ml
tags: Dum Luks Stockpot, John Hawks, science

Marmalade Season

Seville Oranges arrived in the local market last week. They usually ripen at the end of January or early February in the US Southwest. Some folks (Tempe residents, for instance) can find them on their streets ready to pick from the ornamentals in the median. Up here in the left hand corner we have the honor of supporting the sellers and growers with cash. Which I am happy to do to get some good marmalade for the rest of the year.
Dorothy always had James Keeler's Dundee Marmalade in its ceramic pots with a paper hoop top. Made handsome drink containers and pencil jars when the last golden chunk of orange peel and sugar was scraped from the bottom.
The classic tale of marmalades origin is that a "canny" Glaswegian ship skipper overreached himself by buying up a cargo of oranges from Seville dirt cheap. Since he took his vitamins strictly in the form of single malt, he didn't realize how bitter his cargo was. Naturally, in his distress, he turned to his wife for assistance. Being a grocer's daughter she recognized the opportunity and invented marmalade on the instant. Likely that's marketer's blarney. But there is a strong connection of marmalade to Scotland.
To make a preserve of bitter citrus is not uncommon if you think of the various chutney's from India or the sour plum jam so highly prized in Japan. The recipe I take off from is to be found in Jennifer Brennan's: Curries and Bugles: A Memoir and Cook Book of the British Raj (try the usual suspects for used or new copies), which combines many fine Anglo-Indian recipes with memories of growing up in India in the late forties. There it betrays its Scot's roots in it's title: Granny Whitburn's Marmalade. I call mine Single Malt Marmalade.
To begin, you'll need about two and a quarter pounds of Sevilles, about six or seven, a lemon, some sugar and a decent single malt. For my taste the darker, peatier and smokier the better. Pity I can't afford Laphroaig. Dalmore's nice and Lismore works with the advantage of fitting the budget. But that is just me.
The first step in the process is to sharpen your knives. If you keep on top of them, that only means a whet or six to the paring knife. For more extensive operations go here, and here and then take your pluck in one hand and plunge in.
On your cutting board lay a square (better then a foot square} of cheese cloth. Remove the zest from the Sevilles and Lemon.

I had a half grapefruit rind left from breakfast so in it went. Zest is the outer skin which contains the color. When it turns white and soft its called pith. You can make the zest what you will. Line it up in military squares and chop it with a ruler. I do think using a micrometer in the kitchen is a bit absurd. Or cut it higgledy-piggley as you see here that
I prefer.
Quarter the fruit and pull the pith off the meat. Over the stock pot or jam kettle cut the quarter half through from the center and squeeze from either end to get the pips to gather in your fingers. These and the pith go onto the cheese cloth.The sharp knife makes this whole process go faster which is nice as at this point. If you have any cuts around your cuticles you will notice the intense impact of the acidic citrus juice on your digits.
Now the fruit and zest are in the pot and the pith and pips are on the cheese cloth, right? That's okay. Pick the pith out of the pot and put it on the cloth. Keep going until all the fruit has been prepared.
Now gather the corners of your cheese cloth around the pith and pips and tie it up like a hobo's bindle, ready for the stick. add it and a gallon of water to the pot and bring it to a boil. Let it sit there smiling away for a good three hours. Watch it until you are sure it won't boil over.
Let the pot cool and put it out of your way overnight.

The next day, pull the cheese cloth bag out of the marmalade and squeeze its juice back into the pot. That juice is full of the citrus' natural pectin. Discard the pith and pips ball.
Yesterday's boiling reduced the liquor to near half. Measure it into a clean pot and make it three quarts with fresh water. Add between six and eight cups of sugar. How much depends on the bitterness/ripeness of the fruit and your taste preferences. A second opinion is essential here at Dum Luk's because not every one is as found of tart/bitter as Dum Luk's himself is. (If you like the sweeter "California" style you might go to nine or even ten. But better would be to use Valencias rather than Sevilles and two lemons and a lime. The sweeter oranges need less sugar to balance them.) Set the pot at about half speed to bring it slowly up to almost a boil to caramelize the sugar and turn the juice a rich dark golden brown. This takes an hour and a half or thereabouts. While waiting you play find the pips. They usually are the round things floating next to the square cut peel pieces. Cheer up even though you know you found them all Aunt Tilly will extract one from her plate at the all important breakfast.
Towards the end of that get about eight twelve ounce jars, or equivalent, a funnel and a ladle ready to sterilize.
When the marmalade is dark enough to suit you, turn the heat up full to quickly raise the temperature to a jelly stage -- 220⁰f. at sea level. I keep a couple of steel ice cream dishes in the freezer for jam testing. Put a half teaspoonful of juice in the bowl and tip it so the juice cools rapidly. If it doesn't respond to gravity when you tip it upside down, beyond a yearning bulge in the direction of the floor, then its ready to jar and seal.
OOOPS! Greenman Tim points out I skipped a step. Before you jar... Remove from the heat. Add 3 tablespoons of single malt. Re heat for 1 minute. Let sit for fifteen minutes. Then jar. You can expect about 72 ounces. More than that makes a topping for ice cream (or fresh snow if you have any.) Less than that heads in the direction of juggler's balls.
Now to make some bread ...
--ml
tags: Dum Luks Ordinary, marmalade

More on Michael Pollan

Ezra has another good take on Michael Pollan. See here for link to article.
--ml
tag: Dum Luks Ordinary, Michael Pollan, nutrition

On This We Agree

The author, Jim Harrison, I regret to say, is not familiar to me. I am not certain that we would agree in toto. But I look forward to learning more, because this I do agree with:

Then he declared: "Food is a great literary theme. Food in eternity, food and sex, food and lust. Food is a part of the whole of life. Food is not separate."

From the IHT, again, which after years of only modest interest, got my attention today.
--ml
tags: Dum Luks Stockpot, Jim Harrison

Truth is Almost Always Inconvenient

Michael Pollan does a superb job of summing the state of play in our Western Food Culture. Unfortunately he observes that we are losing.
From the IHT:

The story of how the most basic questions about what to eat ever got so complicated reveals a great deal about the institutional imperatives of the food industry, nutritional science and — ahem — journalism, three parties that stand to gain much from widespread confusion surrounding what is, after all, the most elemental question an omnivore confronts. Humans deciding what to eat without expert help — something they have been doing with notable success since coming down out of the trees — is seriously unprofitable if you're a food company, distinctly risky if you're a nutritionist and just plain boring if you're a newspaper editor or journalist. (Or, for that matter, an eater. Who wants to hear, yet again, "Eat more fruits and vegetables"?) And so, like a large gray fog, a great Conspiracy of Confusion has gathered around the simplest questions of nutrition — much to the advantage of everybody involved. Except perhaps the ostensible beneficiary of all this nutritional expertise and advice: us, and our health and happiness as eaters.

Rather than admit that we really don't know why what we eat nourishes or murders us we turn to Convenience Science, which I define as studies that support the hypothesis despite the data, to comfort us. Convenience science is a handmaiden of big money. It is meant to justify the activity of he who pays the piper. Lysenko was as much a convenience scientist for Stalin as the latest good-lipid/bad-lipid study is for a major drug company with a new anti-lipid drug that designed and paid for it. But nowhere is convenience science more broadly marketed than in the American Food Industry. Pollan tells the tale from the 1970's forward. Yet our culture's obsession with food as health begins far, far back. Before Mr. Kellog and Mr Post and their miracle cure cereals of the late 1800's there were the spas of North America and of Europe with their water and bath courses with various high and low diets all guaranteed to cure the patient's complaint -- if all directions were faithfully followed. Sometimes it seemed to work. In any case the successes were lionized and the failures quietly buried. Marketing carried the day for the pirates.
The inconvenient truth that emerges from Mr. Pollan's exegesis is that it is the mix of what, when, how and how much we eat, admixed with our manner of living, that determines our health -- maybe. Because how we eat and live changes -- so does our health. Some of us change faster than others. Those slow to change have less 'health' and may die before adaptation occurs. Hard cheese for those of us in that category.
Go read the whole article if only to marvel that this bit of clarity appeared in a major newspaper. Then again, reading the article just might move you in the direction that will change your whole life.
--ml
tags: Dum Luks Ordinary, Michael Pollan, nutrition

They Get Paid To Do This?

What happens when a genius creates incompatible -- not to say contradictory -- theories? A whole cottage industry springs up in the groves of academe to examine the disparities. Some portion seek to reconcile. Some scour assumptions for error. Such is the battle of the incompatibity between Einstein's theories of gravity and those of quantum mechanics which grew out of his General Theory of Relativity. A group of scientists is bouncing laser beams off reflectors placed on the moon in order to measure the precise distance from the Earth to the moon. If that varies by so much as a minim of a smidgen of a gnat's eyelash then Galileo's grand tossing of cannon balls off the tower of Pisa will be proven inaccurate.
The Economist tells the tale:

If the equivalence principle were violated, the moon's orbit around the Earth would appear skewed, either towards or away from the sun. So far, Dr Murphy told the conference, these experiments have merely confirmed the equivalence principle to one part in 10 trillion. Dr Murphy and his colleagues hope that even more precise measurements could ultimately show general relativity to be only approximately correct. This would usher in a new revolution in physics.(my emphasis)

Just sitting there, playing laser ping pong with the moon, with a chance to achieve physics immortality thrown in, and tenure too.
--ml
tags: Dum Luks Stockpot, Einstein, gravity, '"Rethinking Gravity"

Cricketism

In an excellent post on why he'd refuse to critique your work John Scalzi writes:

For God's sake, if you're going to hand your work over for critique, finish the damn thing first. Even if it's broke, you can fix it.

Which reminds me of Del's rule about software.

"I would rather fix a program that doesn't work than write a new program to do the same job."

Del felt that the start was the hardest part. What errors in that that prevented the program working could be found and corrected more readily than a new program could be conceived, outlined, and composed.
--ml
tags: Del Stories, Dum Luks Community, writing, John Scalzi