The first time I had beef cheeks was at Le Coq au Vin, a Schmancy French restaurant in south Orlando. It was at a Beaujolais Nouveau release party and was one of the courses in a 5 course meal–each course paired with a “young and exuberant” Beaujolais Nouveau wine.  I wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but it kind of looked like pot roast, and I am All About a good braise. I took a bite and Mama Mia (or should I say Mon Dieu?) it was the most meltingly tender, incredibly flavorful bit of heaven ever.

But I was eating face. Cow face. Awful. Offal.  And I was Loving It. Loving It!

The magic of offal, the bits and pieces left over after all the prime cuts are gone–the organs, glands, shins, tails, ears, feet, face.  I have come around to seeing the beauty of these meats. That, out of necessity, folks learned to coax Goodness and Flavor from what Anthony Bourdain terms The Nasty Bits.  Some offal has even risen to Prime Eating, too. Paté de foie gras? Offal.

Cheeks are fatty and full of flavor, and aargersi–the author of this recipe–smartly pairs a very fatty meat with bold flavors and an acidic bite from pickled onions.  The marinade is kind of molé-esque with nuts and coffee, and my mouth is literally watering thinking about putting these tacos together. I’m not sure if I’m going to stick with her original marinade or go off on my own little tangent as I am sometimes Wont To Do, but I do know that I am looking forward to sinking my teeth into these little guys.  The Beloved chose this recipe, so he’s excited too.

If you’d like to cook along, here is the original recipe for Barbacoa Beef Cheek Tacos on Food52.com. Please join me next Tuesday, June 5 (or possibly the following Tuesday, the 11th, if face is hard to track down in The Triangle) for the Offal Conclusion.

So what about you guys? What was your first experience with offal? Or are you on a strict No Offal diet?

Let me know, and have a lovely day.

Sure, you can get pet food: organic. Cleaning supplies: environmentally friendly. Condiments: organic ketchup and locally made pickles.  There are bins of produce–produce!–in the aisles. And the tags don’t just say “potatoes.” They tell you where they come from and how they were grown. You can tell because the folks at the Saxapahaw General Store want you to know where you food comes from.

Not only that, they want to prepare it for you.  Where your run of the mill general store might sell you a bright red hot dog or maybe a frozen burrito microwaved to order, the fine folks working the grill in Saxapahaw will make you a steak and blue cheese salad–made from local beef, housemade dressing  and local organic greens.

The Beloved and I made a pilgrimage to Saxapahaw after reading about it in this New York Times article. The old mill, shuttered in 1994, is enjoying a renaissance. As a store. As a school. As a pub and music venue. As a place to live. So we kind of knew what to expect. But what I didn’t expect was to be so moved by the experience.  That might sound kind of strange, but I am telling you, the sandwich I ate on the outdoor patio moved me to tears.  Was it the best sandwich ever? Quite possibly. But it was the most intentional sandwich I’ve ever had.

I had pastrami and swiss on rye. The beef was locally and humanely raised and house-cured.  The onions were local and caramelized. The bread–a hearty rye liberally salted with caraway–was substantial and gorgeous.  And I know that the folks who assembled my sandwich, and every plate of food that sails across the pass at the Saxapahaw General Store made it with love and with the intention of showing me and everyone who walks through the door what food is supposed to be. What it can be when it is treated with care and reverence. When the animals live happy lives and are free to roam, not because it is cost-effective but because it is the right thing to do.

A runner served me my sandwich, and I was actively grateful for it. For the life of the cow who died so that I could eat. For the care with which the food was prepared.  For the beautiful day we had to enjoy.  I bit into it, into the glistening meat with whole peppercorns still clinging to it, into the sweet and deeply-flavored onions, their edges curling, crisp and brown, into the hearty bread with its bursts of almost minty caraway, and I teared right up.  As I chewed, the flavors mingled and seemed to expand. And I cried. I really did.

This sandwich was like worship.  When so much love, care, attention and intention is poured into food, it is passed on to anyone who eats it.  I could feel it, and I was humbled and grateful.

Our visit to Saxapahaw lasted all day and involved a River Walk, a flight of local beers and a local cheese plate at The Eddy Pub–all fantastic, by the way, but that sandwich was the highlight.  If you live in central North Carolina, or if you are coming to visit, please put Saxapahaw on your list.  And please make sure to eat at the general store and find out for yourself what effect their brand of Intentional Cooking has on you.

From the back of Saxapahaw General Store’s Menu:

At Saxapahaw General Store, we know that local economies help build strong communities.  And every healthy community needs a market–a place to meet friends, to find everyday provisions, and to be nourished.

For that reason, we provide the village of Saxapahaw with hearty, soulful food, a caring and familiar environment, and a selection of products that serves the whole community’s everyday needs.

From the front of the menu:

We use local chicken, pork, and beef from farms whose practices we support.  We source local produce where available, and 90% of our produce is organically grown.

And from their website:

We are a freedom of choice store where all are welcome. We provide as much local food as possible while also supporting other sustainable production methods. We provide service as a higher calling.

More images from our day in Saxapahaw:

available at the general store

Where live music happens--part of the old mill

No explanation needed.

Part of the mill has been turned into a very cool music venue.

The Haw River

Our cheese plate at The Eddy Pub

Since we had lovely blueberries from our produce box, and since lemon and blueberries go together like Forrest and Jenny, I made a quick blueberry  to pair with the posset.  If that sounds scary, don’t let it intimidate you.  I just cooked down blueberries with some sugar, lemon zest, lemon juice and salt.  Once it was all bubbly and lovely, I pressed it through a fine mesh strainer–I didn’t even need to blend it first since I’d been smashing the wee berries all along as they cooked–and then added some gelatin bloomed in a tablespoon of cold water.  That was it.

Mrslarkin’s original posset recipe called for only three ingredients: cream, sugar and lemon juice.  I added salt and finished it with a splash of vanilla, just to round out the flavor.  I had a bit of a revelation about the posset as I was boiling the cream and sugar together. The burbling mixture looked and smelled like sweetened condensed milk (SCM) which made me think that key lime pie filling is just a posset enriched with egg yolk.  The yolks make the posset sliceable and therefore suitable for a pie filling.  Without the yolks, the posset sets to a creamy pudding-like consistency. Spoonable, but not sliceable. But lighter on the palate without the yolks.  My next experiment is to see if SCM will thicken up with the addition of acid but without being heated up. I’m thinking yes, and if that’s so, this might just be the easiest dessert idea ever.  Whisk together some SCM and lemon or lime juice with a touch of salt and then pour into Vessels.  Chill for at least 2 hours. That’s it.  (I found a no-cook posset, here. I haven’t tested it, but at least I know one exists. Yay)!

I’m not saying it will definitely work, but I’m going to give it a shot.  For now though, know that the posset as written does work and is Delightful.  It’s perfect on its own, so the blueberry gelée really is gilding the lily.

But what fun is it to leave the lilies alone, I ask you?

Here’s what I did.

 If you don’t want to go the gelée route, just pile on some fresh berries after the posset sets up. I made that fancy-schmancy angle by setting the glass in a cake pan before pouring in the posset.

I’m telling you guys, this Food52sdays series is the Most Fun Ever. Every recipe inspiration has been great, and we have honestly enjoyed every interpretation we’ve come up with.  If you cooked along this week, please post your link in the comments or over on the facebook fan page.  If you haven’t participated yet, I hope you decide to–it really is a lot of fun.

Oh look!  The lovely Terra from Cafe Terra made a great lime/strawberry version over at her place. Nice!

Thanks for reading, and have a lovely day.

Sometimes when things are as warm as life, there is a little poo.  This is a part of knowing where your food comes from, and it’s okay. Just wash your eggs.

This morning, as The Beloved and I were sitting on the porch enjoying a cup of coffee before we started on The Day, we heard the girls kicking up Quite the Racket across the street. We looked at each other, wondering if there was a fox or snake or other animal snooping about the coop. So, we ran down there only to find that all was well in Chickenland.  I guess they were just trumpeting their joy that the day was warm with a cool breeze, bright sunshine and the scent of honeysuckle in the air.

Five girls were outside, so I checked inside the coop and two girls were in the laying boxes.  I went around back, opened the hatches and they obligingly shifted a bit so I could retrieve an egg from under each of them. Smooth and creamy and warm as life.  Since we have chickens, we are fortunate that fresh eggs aren’t a novelty, but reaching under a contendedly clucking hen and pulling out a brand new egg still is.  The feel of the shell, the heft of the eggs, the fresh warmness of them.  While I know that people have been scooping eggs from under birds since the Dawn of Time, it is still a magical thing.  And it’s still warm as life.

You know what else is warm as life? Beans. And broccoli. And everything else that grows in the ground and takes its nourishment from the sun.  Sun energy, used to reach towards the sun. And when we take a bite, we bring the sunshine into us, warm as life.

When your ingredients are that fresh and wonderful, what better way to honor them than to let them be themselves. No meat needed, but you could certainly add it if you want.

One thing about a meal like this, made of the freshest possible ingredients (along with a few staples): make it with love.  Ground yourself and pour love into every cut, every slice, every movement in the Cooking Ballet.  Make it with love. Eat it with gratitude.  It’s almost like communion: A meal meal as Warm As Life.

There’s no real need for a recipe, per se. Really, here are the steps:

Cook some rice.
Stir fry your favorite vegetables in whatever kind of sauce you like.
Cook some eggs and serve them with the veggies and rice.

For those of you who appreciate the structure of a recipe, here’s how we made ours:

Enjoy cooking. It should be fun. It should be an act of love. If you live alone, show yourself that you love You. That you deserve to eat well. If you live with others, feed them. Feeding others–whether professionally or not–is an act of love.

Have a lovely day, warm as life. Ruthie and Sam sure are.

Trust me, Ruthie is enjoying her day, even if she looks a bit miffed. That is her Regular Face.

Sam: well versed in the art of Enjoying His Day.

What’s Food52sday, anyway?

I was just looking through the remaining recipes that The Beloved and I chose from The Food52 Cookbook. Believe it or not, there are very few desserts represented. Maybe it’s because I know how to make a cake and can modify it to suit my tastes.  I can make a pie–if not exactly like a recipe demands, it’s at least a tip of the hat to the original.  I can make a dessert sauce. I can modify a crumb topping.

I’m not trying to sound braggy  or icky or anything. These are just things that I have learned to do as I’ve journeyed to learn to cook–not to follow recipes, but to really cook. I’ve internalized many of the Big techniques, and I’ve achieved enough automaticity in the kitchen that I feel that very little stands between me and what I want to make. I know what I want to make, I can imagine how I want it to taste and know what to put together to make it taste that way.

That’s why Food52sday, for me anyway, is a time for me to play with other folks’ recipes. To have fun with them. To respect the original dish and to do it honor by making it my own and bringing my own personality and style to it.  So the desserts that do/have shown up on the list tend to be things I’ve never made or heard of.  Pudding chomeur? Wow–that was an incredible, eye-opening dessert. But it’s also a technique. A way of poaching dough in a sweet, rich sauce. Roger that. Got it. Next time I make it, it’ll probably be different. Or not.

The rhubarb curd shortbread? I ended up turning that into a citrus sabayon tart, but the basic idea of the original teaches me that any curd baked on top of any pre-baked crust, will set up and be sliceable. This is a Good Thing to know, for sure.

And that brings me to today’s inspiration.  I’ve never heard of a posset before. But it sounds like it’s a word that belongs in a nursery rhyme: “Little Miss Mosset held tight to her posset”–an old-fashioned kind of Britishy sounding word.  It actually was a drink in which milk was boiled with some sort of something that would curdle it–usually wine or ale. According to our friends at Wikipedia, it was often spiced.  And it is British. They considered it to have medicinal properties, and a holdover of that in modern times is drinking some hot milk before bed. I’m a Fan of that myself.  A squirt of honey, maybe a splash of vanilla and a wee pinch of salt in hot milk, and I’m a happy girl.

Anyway, back to the actual Recipe Inspiration in Question: the Lemon Posset.  It contains 3 ingredients and it kind of reminds me of key lime pie filling without the egg yolks. You boil dairy and sugar and then stir in some citrus juice. This ends up curdling the whole deal. But not like lumpy curds and whey. It just thickens it in exactly the same way that the key lime juice starts to thicken the sweetened condensed milk in a key lime pie.

I want to play with this technique and see what happens. I hope you’ll join me. Tune in next Tuesday to see what I come up with, and if you cook along, please share your results here or over on the facebook page.

Until then, check out the original recipe by mrslarkin. I love that name: mrslarkin. I think she might solve mysteries in her spare time or something.  I hope you’ll be as inspired by this seemingly simple dessert as I’ve been.

Thanks for reading, and have a lovely day.

You see, I live in North Carolina. I love living here. Truly I do.  My family is here. My friends are here. Our home and our kittens are here.  Yet I am sad that Amendment 1 passed here on Tuesday.  I am sad for all of the people who want to marry their Beloveds but cannot. I got to marry my Beloved, and I do not understand how letting others marry theirs would hurt my marriage or my life in general.  I believe it would even strengthen both because we would no longer have to harbor a little corner of “Why can’t everyone have what we have?”

I have some Thoughts about the political machinations behind the May vote and its possible effect on the vote in November, and I will just say that this issue has only been decided temporarily.

I am also saddened by the hatred being slung around by folks standing on both sides of the marriage issue.  It makes me Ill to read comments from folks saying that they will nevernevernever come to North Carolina because all the people here are backwards and small-minded and that we all marry our cousins.  It makes me equally Ill to read all the comments from folks singing the praises of North Carolina for voting on the side of Truth, Justice and the American Way.

For many, the definition of marriage is a volatile one that wraps religion, morals, justice and emotion all up in a messy package.  Because of how volatile it is, I think it is imperative that people on both sides of the debate maintain a respectful tone.  Feelings are at stake. People’s happiness is at stake.  People’s civil rights are at stake.  The legal expression of love and commitment is at issue.  And I hear people spewing hatred. And it sickens me.

Every religion–Every religion–at its core contains some version of The Golden Rule. Treat folks as you want to be treated.  Always. Yes, it’s hard. It’s challenging. It feels impossible at times. But let’s all just take a breath and try.  Try to remember how you would feel if your son or daughter could not marry the love of their life. How you would feel if you could not marry the love of your life. How you’d feel if you were reduced to a stereotype. How you’d feel if your views, your opinions, your fervent beliefs were openly scorned by others.  How you’d feel if people hated you just because you are who you are and you believe what you believe.

Our country is being torn apart. This is but another chapter in the draft of the book called The Civil Rights Movement.  Are we where we need to be? No.  Are we moving ahead? I believe that we are. And it is painful. People are scared. People on both sides of this issue are scared. Terrified. And when you’re scared, you tend to be Less Rational than you would be if you were content. And none of us are content right now.  We’re uncomfortable.  All of us.  Because we’re, hopefully, growing.  Our President has come out publicly in favor of gay marriage. And whether you are thrilled or disgusted by that, it is a Fact.  And it is a step in the direction of tolerance and eventually toward acceptance. And it’s scary.

So folks get behind their computer screens and the speak out of anger, out of fear, out of righteous indignation and even out of smugness.  It is my wish-hope-prayer that we all remember that every disembodied comment or blog post or status update is tethered to a person with feelings and a family and a position and a belief system.  Remember the ideal of The Golden Rule and strive to follow it.

I recognize your position, whatever it is. I recognize your right to your position. I recognize that I might not agree with your position but that your position is no less valid for that. Our views are informed by our experiences. Since no two people share the exact same experiences or process them in the exact same way, our views will differ. We have the right to differ. We do not have the right to tear each other down. To condemn anyone. To judge. To feel superior or to try to make others feel inferior.

We are a nation gripped by fear. Fear of attack, fear of infiltration, fear of Other.  And we are growing, changing, evolving, and that’s scary too.  So please, let’s just all take a breath before we speak. Let’s try to exercise our empathy muscles just a bit, to consciously make the effort to put ourselves in others’ shoes, not to necessarily agree with a position–but to understand that position and recognize others’ rights to that position.

Last night, on our neighborhood’s facebook page, somebody posted the question “Have you guys been hearing a loud noise around 10pm the last few nights?” Folks responded, some seriously and some with funny hypotheses. We were actually having a good time when a neighbor wrote that the loud sound that we had heard was the sound of the door slamming on the liberals.

My knee-jerk response was to be Mean, I admit. Rather than do that, I chose to exercise my empathy muscles and be respectful: “As you’ve said before, let’s stay on task on this page. Only talk about politics and religion face to face. It is too easy to become uncivil when we’re all behind keyboards. Thanks. ”  (I use a lot of emoticons on facebook, and even then, tone is sometimes hard to convey).

This was his response this morning: “Sorry, you are right and I apologize. It was too easy an opportunity for me to be funny. I didn’t hear any sound, must’ve been dead asleep. I gotta stop commenting on stuff late at night, as I don’t always think so clearly.”

Did I change his mind? No. But I think I managed to defuse what had the potential to be an ugly exchange. And I was respectful. I did not sink into the muck; I chose to take the high road. And in this case, he joined me there. I consider it a small victory. And the road to equality will be paved with small victories and dispassionate, respectful discourse.

I will leave the comments open for dispassionate, respectful discourse. If you have something to say, you have the right to say it. But please say it respectfully and thoughtfully.  Practice being nice here in my little corner and then go practice on a larger scale.

Thanks for reading. Thanks for being respectful. Have a lovely day.

Right?! How can you say no?  The lovely Terra from Cafe Terra said, “Hey, we should make that thing.” So I went to look. And was a little sad, because the recipe started with Yellow Cake Mix. Ack. Blech. No thanks. But still. Moscato Pound Cake. And I make pound cakes. A lot of them.  What’s to stop me from putting some wine in my pound cake?  Nothing. I tweeted back to Terra–I don’t wanna make a box cake. And she was all, “Ew–no! I never bake from boxes.” So we both did our Own Thing.

She made hers with grapes. Makes sense, right? Grapes. Wine. Wine. Grapes. And Greek Yogurt. The Greeks drank wine, so there you go.  Her cake is lovely. See! Click either picture to go straight to her blog post and recipe for Grape Moscato Pound Cake.

Love the glaze!

You know you want a slice, right?

I wasn’t really sure what kind of moscato pound cake I was going to make until…Kismet! The Beloved and I won an extra Gallon of strawberries from our produce box delivery service. Yay. But a gallon on top of the quart we had equaled a Very Lot.  And there are only so many sour cream and brown sugar-coated strawberries you can shove into your face before things turn ugly.

I thought, hey strawberries are Quite Nice with champagne. And champagne is a white wine. And so is Moscato. (I really have to plot these things out with a compass). So, I whipped up (or cooked down, which is really more correct) some strawberry-Moscato puree.  This I didn’t measure. I threw a about a quart and a half of the strawberries in a big pot, glugged in some Yellowtail Moscato (I like it–it’s fizzy), some lemon zest, a bit of lemon juice and a handful or two of raw sugar.  I let all of that bubble away on low-ish for about 45 minutes until the juices were a bit syrupy. Then, I tossed everyone into the Blendtec and pureed them.  I strained the puree through a fine mesh strainer to catch the zest and seeds.

I, of course used the standard Van Halen Pound Cake recipe with just a few tweaks.  I used the puree plus some extra Moscato for the liquid and reduced the sugar by a couple of ounces to keep it from a)being overly sweet and b)browning too much.  I probably could have dialed it back even a bit more, but it was still lovely as it was.  I was going to fold in some whipped cream at the end of mixing since berries and cream are always a good idea, but I loved the flavor of the puree and wine and didn’t want to mute it, so I ended up stirring in an extra ounce each of puree and wine.  Next time, I’ll just add it all in 2 additions instead of waiting until the end.

After baking, I wrapped that guy up tight and threw him in the fridge.  The resulting cake was extremely moist and cut cleanly, both with a fork and a knife.  Next time, I’ll probably let it cool uncovered since the wine and the additional cut up berries I put in the batter will keep things plenty moist enough.

I used 2 glazes on the cake. One was just 10x powdered sugar, the strawberry-Moscato puree and a pinch of salt.

Okay, I know this looks like Murder in the Snow, but I think the puree is a lovely color.
The bright red shades more toward orange when mixed with the sugar.

To balance out some of the sweetness, the other glaze was just straight lemon juice and 10x along with a pinch of salt.  The consensus so far from everyone who has tried it, including me whose Slice Count currently stands at 3 1/2, is that this is definitely a keeper. But the cake won’t keep beautifully for too long because of the fresh fruit in it.  Make it one day and serve it the next. It’ll last for maybe one extra day, but I wouldn’t push it past then just because it won’t be as Aesthetically Pleasing, although it will still taste good. If you’d like it to keep longer, leave out the diced berries entirely and just serve with a Swoosh of puree.

Yes, I know my strawberry cake is not pink. But I am not a fan of food coloring, and Starbucks used up all the beetles. Therefore, my cake is au naturale.

I hope you try it and that you enjoy it, and I’m also hoping that, if you don’t know Terra or haven’t visited with her in awhile, that you’ll go say howdy. You can get to her pound cake post by clicking on her beautiful pictures up there, or you can just go straight to her site here, find her on twitter or on her facebook page.  She’s a great recipe developer, she loves animals and–get this–she walks her dog past my old elementary school almost every day. Small world, huh?

Thanks for checking out our keen pound cakes. You should probably make both.

Have a lovely day.

Bánh mì, like tagine, has two meanings. As a tagine is a cooking vessel and the name of a dish cooked in Said vessel, Bánh mì is both a Vietnamese take on a French baguette and a sandwich made on Said bread.  French mayonnaise and liver pâté cozy up with Vietnamese cold cuts, vegetables and pickles. It’s fusion food, for sure.

Apparently, the airy quality of the bread is a huge component of the sandwich, and I couldn’t find a facsimile anywhere. I suppose I could’ve gone to a Vietnamese restaurant and bought a couple of baguettes off of them, but I thought a visit to Grand Asia Market–a 30,000 square foot Asian grocery carrying everything from curry to rice to quail eggs to tea to a keen pre-packaged snack called Happy Mouth that I came this close to buying–would score me a bánh mì or three. But alas, no. I whined on facebook and twitter that from now on, they shall be known as Adequate Asia Market. A Quick Witted twitter buddy suggested that I refer to them as Asia Minor, and so I shall.

At any rate, I bought an American version of a French baguette at a southern-based grocery chain and just went with it.

Now, before I get into the Ins and Outs of the Sammich, I want to take a hot minute to talk about eating locally.  I mean, can anyone really expect to replicate the experience of eating a messy/drippy bánh mì on the street corners of Saigon in Garner, NC, home of 2011 American Idol Scotty McCreery? I think not. Nay, I know not.  I mean, heck. We are now ordering our produce from a local farm; we buy happy meat from local ranches. Our eggs come from Across The Street.  We grow a lot of our own herbs. The only stuff I don’t worry about sourcing locally pretty much is baking stuff–flour, sugar, baking powder, etc–and spices.

I live in North Carolina. I like calling North Carolina home. It’s home to sweet potatoes and corn. To Krispy Kreme and Cheerwine. To Lance crackers. To livermush and biscuits and gravy. To amazing, succulent barbecue that is as different on the coast as it is in the mountains as Cincinnati chili is different from Texas chili.  And while we are fortunate enough to live in a culturally diverse area–thank you hospitals, universities and Research Triangle Park–and can find almost anything we could want (except for bánh mì at Asia Minor. Ahem), we’ve been eating more and more locally. And all of a sudden, I find it necessary to make an authentic Vietnamese street food. Really, Jenni? What is wrong with you?

Don’t get me wrong–it’s not like it wasn’t a great sandwich. It was. (More on that in a bit). It’s just that I should know better.  Since we aren’t Vietnamese, the mise en place was ridiculous for this sandwich. What are staples in Vietnamese kitchens are exotics in mine, and it showed.  The next time we make bánh mì, we’ll have no problem, but stocking up for the first one was kind of epic. More epicness than a sammy might deserve, if you want the Brutal Truth.

Enough of that. I see I’ve spent about 500 words on that little rant, so I shall move on to the Discussion of the sandwich In Question.

The Beloved and I were so excited when we chose this Recipe Inspiration.  We have enjoyed every single Food52sday meal we’ve made, and this was no exception. Truly.  It was just a lot of futzing about.  We stayed almost completely true to the original, so I’m not going to post a recipe. Just go see monkeymom‘s fabulous original recipe. The only things we did differently were to add some marinated crimini mushrooms into the mix, just because I don’t like the idea of liver pâté on a sandwich without its good buddy mushrooms. In this, I took another cultural cue from the classic Beef Wellington, in which duxelles and liver pâté coat a lovely fillet. For my ‘shrooms, I quartered and marinated them in soy sauce, garlic rice wine vinegar, raw sugar, salt, white pepper and some fresh thyme.

The other changes I made were more stylistic. Rather than quartering or sixth-ing the radishes and carrots, I sliced them in long thin ribbons. Well, the carrots anyway. I sliced the radishes super-thinly too.  I just thought they’d stay on the sandwich better that way while still providing some crunch and brightness. I was right. Yay me!

The last difference was that I chopped the meat after cooking it. I didn’t want to have to chew through large pieces of meat. And while some did fall out On Occasion, I did like the fact that it was all in bite-sized pieces.

Now, without further ado, here’s a story of Building a bánh mì in pictures. Enjoy!

Pâté and mayo.

Leaf lettuce and marinated mushrooms.

Chopped caramelized pork.

 Pickled radishes and carrots and fresh jalapenos.

After that, the sammiches only needed a sprinkle of chopped cilantro and a little coaxing to close (thank you, tongs), and we dug in.  I really do wish we had found light and airy rolls. The baguette we had was a bit chewy. Which is nice in some applications, but not in this one.  The bread needed to take a back seat to the fillings, and the chew of the crumb made it a little too assertive. Nevertheless, we Ate Them Up Yum.

The flavors all worked very nicely together.  I bow to Asian cooks for their masterful way with balancing flavor notes–sweet, salty, sour, bitter and savory.  Everyone showed up to the party.  The marinade and the pickles brought the sweet. The pickles also provided a salty/sour acidity.  Savory came along with the pâté, the fish sauce and the pork and the cilantro provided a hint of lemony bitterness. Nice.

And that concludes today’s Food52sday/local food rant post. If you cooked along, please share your link below and/or over on the facebook page.  Tune in on Tuesday, May 15 for the next recipe inspiration. Until then, have a lovely day.

This Giveaway is now Closed. Thanks to everyone who entered and an extra thanks to those who donated!

So, it’s the end of April. It’s a kind of a lovely day here; I’ve had my coffee and some breakfast, and I am Filled with Good Will Towards Man. And coffee. Made in my Chemex. Which is just The Best Thing.

I’ve given away a Chemex before, but I’m doing it again. Because I really want you guys to experience the Chemex Goodness.

Wait. What’s a Chemex? Fair question. I mean, I didn’t know until I started searching for coffee makers that didn’t contain plastic or rely on Pods. I am not a Pod Person. Bad things come out of Pods.

Anyway, the Chemex coffee maker is nothing more than an hourglass-ish shaped glass vessel. I say that like it’s no big deal, but it is magic. It’s designed to hold a conical filter in the top part and drip Gorgeous coffee down into the bottom part.  Why are they so great? Well, for one: the filter. It’s thicker than a standard filter, and it keeps out a lot of the weird oils that can end up floating on top of your cup once it starts to cool off a bit. For another: you boil your own water and pour it over the coffee yourself. So you can brew with water that’s hot enough to actually extract all the goodness without all the bitterness.  The result: a clean, bright cup of coffee.

The only trick is to grind your coffee Just So so that you can pour all of the water through in no more than about 6 minutes.  Four is ideal, according to the Chemex folks.  If your grind is too fine to allow brewing in 6-ish minutes, you’ll start pulling out flavors that you Just Don’t Want in your coffee. And you’ll be sad.  It’ll take a few tries for you to find your perfect grind and pour-over time, but it is so worth it.  Just ask anyone who has a Chemex or just loves pour-over, or manual drip, coffee.

So, what do you get? You get one 6-cup (in the Wonderful World of Chemex, a “cup” is 5 ounces, so yours will hold 30 ounces) Chemex coffee maker and a box of 100 Chemex filters.  There are two styles of Chemex coffee maker. One employs a cool wooden collar that goes around the neck of the Vessel so you can grab it. It is Very Cool Looking, but kind of inconvenient and awkward. My Chemex, and the style I’m giving away, has a glass handle to make grabbing and pouring much easier. I was tempted by the cool wooden collar, but I’m glad I have the one with the handle, so that’s what you’ll get.

And how do you enter? Leave a separate comment for each entry.

• Leave a comment to let me know how you take your coffee.
• Tweet about my giveaway and then leave a comment saying you did, along with the url of your tweet. (Find your tweet. Click open then on details. Copy/paste the url into your comment over here).
  
• For 2, yes TWO BONUS ENTRIES, donate to my fundraiser. There’s a link over there in the sidebar underneath my picture that says “Donate to my JCAPL Fundraiser. Just click there and follow the rules to give however much you’d like.  Then leave a comment letting me know you donated.  There is no minimum donation–even a dollar will go straight to the Johnston County Animal Protection League, and whether you give twenty dollars or one dollar, you’ll get two extra entries!

I’ll be choosing a winner using the random number generator at Random.org on Wednesday, May 2, 2012 at noon, EDT, so be sure to have your entries in by then.

Rules  The Giveaway is Now Over
Unfortunately, this giveaway is only open to US and Canadian readers.
Please leave separate comments for the first two entries.  If you combine the first two chances in one comment thusly “I like my coffee black and I tweeted. Here’s the url,” it will only count as one entry. 

If you do decide to donate, one comment is sufficient for two extra chances, so you’ll be leaving a maximum of three comments.

Please leave me a valid email address so I can get in touch with you. If I don’t have a valid email address for the winner, I’ll choose another. Claim your prize via email within 48 hours–by Friday, May 4, 2012 at noon, EDT–or I’ll pick another winner.  And again, have your entries in no later than noon, EDT on Wednesday, May 2, 2012.

The Chemex folks have nothing to do with this giveaway. I just love my Chemex and want you to have one too. I’m buying this with my own pennies just because I want to spread the Chemex love.

And that pretty much does it. Thanks for reading, good luck in the giveaway, and if you do decide to donate, thank you so very much. It means a lot, and possibly everything to unwanted animals in our community.

Have a lovely day.

But, remember the scene in which Vivian first meets Edward? They’re in pre-Costanza Jason Alexander’s car, and Edward asks her what her name is. Her answer: “What do you want it to be?” Which really means, “I am a blank slate onto which you may project all your sexual fantasies.”  But I don’t think that line would’ve played well in a Garry Marshall film.  Anyway, that’s what these cookies are. Whatever you want them to be.

I could say that you have to make these cookies Exactly the way that I made them, but why would I say that? I mean, have you ever known me to say that? Of course not.  What we have here is a Basic Cookie Dough. To which you can add five cups (by volume)–Five Cups–of whatever you want.  Once you have your dough, if you want to wrap it around a piece of candy or–gasp!!–another cookie and bake ‘em that way, do it. Or just scoop and bake.

You can make ‘em chocolate by subbing 1 oz (by weight) of Dutch process cocoa powder for 1 oz (by weight) of the flour. You can leave ‘em blonde.  The only place you can’t leave ‘em is On the Plate.  Because they are that good. Boom!

Here’s your basic dough:

• 2 sticks unsalted butter
• 1 1/2 cups sugar (packed dark or light, or granulated. Your choice. Or half and half)
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt (less if you’re using fine salt, and always to taste. But you can’t leave it out. Because I’ll be able to tell if you do, and you’ll wonder why these cookies aren’t as good as I said they are.)
• 2 teaspoons vanilla (or whatever)
• some spices. Or not. Cinnamon is always nice with brown sugar. Probably no more than 2-3 teaspoons total per batch
• 2 large eggs
• 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
• 8 oz all purpose flour (or 7 oz AP plus 1 oz Dutch process cocoa powder)

Make the dough with the creaming method. I cream the butter and sugar together with the salt, vanilla and spices, because fat carries the flavor so well.  Add the eggs, one at a time, and make sure they are very well incorporated. Whisk the baking soda in with the flour or flour/cocoa powder, and beat it in on low speed just until mixed.

Now you have your cookie canvas. Your template. Your tabula cookie-rasa.  Now, you have 5 cups of goodness to add. Five cups! Enjoy the freedom.

Ideas? You want ideas? OK, then.

• whole grains
• chocolate
• dried fruit
• granola
• trail mix
• pretzels
• potato chips
• nuts
• healthy stuff, like flax
• marshmallows
• popcorn
• flavored chips–cinnamon, peanut butter, toffee, etc
• Crushed hard candy
• gummy bears
• mints
• cereal
• Et Cetera

Those 5 cups of…whatever…are what makes these cookies yours. Name them whatever you want. These cookies will save you. And you will save them right back. So you can Eat Them.

Here’s how I made mine. You can make ‘em this way if you want to, because they are Incredibly Yummy. But don’t feel like you have to. If you like Kit better than Viv, make yourself Kit cookies.

I made these to send with The Beloved to work. He reported that today they are still soft and chewy. Plus, his boss raved about them. I’m telling you–it’s the cumin!

Enjoy your cookies, however you make them. Have a lovely day.