Showing posts with label cooking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cooking. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 08, 2014

Preach the gospel always.
If necessary, use an eggplant.

Watch the Channel 9 video. Just do it.
On what we now call Palm Sunday, the Savior of the world rode into Jerusalem on an ass.

Not a majestic stallion. An ass. And not just any old ass, a colt.

An adolescent ass.

This God of ours, the one who washed His disciples' feet, the one who first revealed Himself to a Samaritan woman with a checkered past -- and present -- has no need to prove anything. He is secure enough to humble Himself -- thus the Cross.

Consider . . . the second person of the Holy Trinity allowed Himself to be executed like a common criminal to save His people. To become the ultimate spotless Lamb of God, sacrificed in the eternal Passover.

SO, YEAH, it makes perfect sense to me that a cook at Gino's Italian restaurant in Baton Rouge, La., would cut into an eggplant only to find that the seeds spelled "GOD."

An amazing coincidence? Of course. But ours is a God of amazing coincidences, which we call "miracles."

Ours is a society that worships things, celebrities and power, all of which are fleeting. We tell ourselves that we are as gods, and that we are in control of all things.

Then a line cook in a God-haunted Southern state capital cuts into yet another eggplant destined for the sauté pan. . . .

"Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost: "

"Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you: and, lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world. Amen."

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Bonne anniversaire, Julia!

Sometimes, America cranks out a true individual. And even more rarely, that person gets recognized for what he or she is, earning the embrace of the Powers That Be.

And even more rarely than that, those Powers That Be are in television.

A hundred years ago today, America cranked out Juila Child. A half-century ago, a public television station in Boston realized who -- and what -- had walked into its studios.

Before the centenary of Julia's birth slips away from us here, let's enjoy the second-ever episode of
The French Chef, which originally aired Feb. 11, 1963.

Et la révolution gastronomique commencé.
Vive la chef française . . . et bon appetit!

Monday, September 26, 2011

Simply '70s: Avant le Food Network

I am so old, I remember when cooking shows were fun.

You see, you little whippersnappers, back in the prehistory of the 1970s -- when we had no Internets and had to push AMC Pacers uphill both ways to get to and from school -- cooking programs were on regular television and actually were about cooking, more or less, as opposed to whatever the hell the Food Network is about. Gastronomic pornography?

Me, I don't know.

BACK THEN, Justin Wilson ruled the public-TV airwaves in Louisiana -- and across the country -- teaching folks how to cook like a good Cajun, with a funny story or three thrown in as lagniappe. And the best part was that I actually knew (or knew of) some of the people in his tall tales.

Which made them just plausible enough to be hilarious.

I remember that ol' Zhoo-STAHN would measure salt or whatever into his hand and then throw it in the pot. Then, just to show off, he'd measure some more into his hand, grab a measuring spoon, and fill it exactly with what lay in his palm.

To this day, more than three decades later, I do the same thing.
And when my Yankee wife yells at me, I take a measuring spoon. . . .

Thursday, July 21, 2011

First, you choot 'em. Then you make a roux.

If Julia Child weren't already dead, she'd have to kill herself in protest.


That Swamp People cookbook that master alligator hunter Troy Landry is writing. I could lapse into full snark mode at this juncture, but decided to leave that to TMZ. You know, the website that causes serious journalists to kill themselves in protest.

According to Landry -- the guy who basically cooks everything on the show -- SEVERAL publishers have already approached him about a book deal since "SP" premiered last year ... but he's still weighing his options.

Landry tells us, he's currently compiling a master list of all his recipes -- which includes his most famous dish called "Nutria Sauce Piquante" ... a gumbo made from a semiaquatic rodent called a nutria ... basically an over-sized rat.
DEM TMZ PEOPLE horrified at dem "rodent stew," cher.

Meanwhile, Louisiana chef John Folse is set to kill himself in protest of TMZ's failure to appreciate the difference between gumbo and sauce piquante. Me, I'm just wondering why it's OK for Hollywood people to wear extremely expensive coats made of rat pelts (a.k.a., nutria and mink) but it's not OK to eat what's left after you skin it.

That's what you call a conundrum. What's not a conundrum is knowing what the first step will be in each of Mr. Landry's recipes.


Thursday, April 22, 2010

I like my juleps dark roasted

I am from the South.

This means I will find a way to put fresh mint in everything. Even my Community Coffee.

No bourbon for mint juleps? No problem. Just make your pot of dark roast minty.

Personally, I thought the garnish in the cup was a damn nice touch.

It is always -- repeat, always -- nice to be able to walk out the back door and cut a mess of something to put in something that will make that something taste like something special.

Wednesday, November 04, 2009

See, I have this antique juicer. . . .

And when you're done, you'll also have a bowl of smashed apples.

What to do with your apple remains? Well, get you some of this kind of bread -- "multigrain sandwich thins" they're called.

See? Nice and thin. This will be important.

Because when you toast them, they get nice and crispy. And they won't get soggy when . . .

. . . you slather them with honey and cinnamon . . .

. . . and dump all your smashed apples on there.

You'll also want to add some cheddar cheese. And next time I do this, I'll drizzle some of the apple juice over the whole thing to make it more moist.

Finally, you want to throw it in the microwave to thoroughly melt the cheese and get your instant "pies" piping hot. That's where the toasted sandwich thins staying crispy comes in -- they won't get all soggy after being microwaved.

And there you go. A taste sensation.

No need to thank me, The Anachronistic Chef.

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

A nice, hot cup of . . . DUDE!

In the middle of a hard day's work on a cool fall day, nothing refreshes like a fresh pot of pot.


HOLD THE PHONE. That's not how we roll -- er . . . not that we roll anything at La Casa Favog -- on this blog or at 3 Chords & the Truth. It just looks like it, kind of.

And the sight reminded me of the time some friends brought back some oolong tea from China and gave us some sealed in a sandwich bag, prompting Mrs. Favog to exclaim "It looks like a lid!" That brought down the house -- which you'd understand if you knew Mrs. Favog.

In reality, I was making a pot of Community Coffee (the coffee so good I advertise it for free) when I thought it would be nice to go outside and cut some fresh mint to add to the ground coffee. So I did.

So here's what you do, particularly if you're blessed with mint coming up all over your yard: Cut a nice sprig of mint, wash it off, finely dice it with a good kitchen knife and add it to your ground coffee in the pot.

It's as simple as that.

As the late Vernon Roger used to say at the end of his cooking segments on Channel 9 in Baton Rouge . . . "Tonnerre! Ça c'est bon, oui!"