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ranting waiter (not a swede) unmasked

The (formerly) anonymous waiter of the wildly entertaining Waiter Rant blog has finally come out from the shadows, just in time for the book based on his blog. The Post has an interview with now-ex-waiter Steve Dublanica about lessons for diners and a bit about the book.

I imagined him looking more like Guy Fieri with less douchey hair, but instead he looks like a normal fellow I’d totally have a beer with. Without punching him in the face.

the quest for the perfect chocolate chip cookie

The NYT hunts for the elements of the perfect chocolate chip cookie. The factor I found interesting was the time they let the dough set in the fridge before baking:

At 12 hours, the dough had become drier and the baked cookies had a pleasant, if not slightly pale, complexion. The 24-hour mark is where things started getting interesting. The cookies browned more evenly and looked like handsomer, more tanned older brothers of the younger batch. The biggest difference, though, was flavor. The second batch was richer, with more bass notes of caramel and hints of toffee.

Going the full distance seemed to have the greatest impact. At 36 hours, the dough was significantly drier than the 12-hour batch; it crumbled a bit when poked but held together well when shaped. These cookies baked up the most evenly and were a deeper shade of brown than their predecessors. Surprisingly, they had an even richer, more sophisticated taste, with stronger toffee hints and a definite brown sugar presence. At an informal tasting, made up of a panel of self-described chipper fanatics, these mature cookies won, hands down.

They also discuss large (6″!) cookies, but I disagree with that. I don’t like crispy cookies.

she doesn't know where it comes from, but she knows it tastes good

PETA has some beef (sorry) with Jessica Simpson:

Jessica Simpson was spotted wearing a T-shirt with the slogan “Real Girls Eat Meat” printed across her chest — leading PETA to denounce the singer as a “stupid girl.”

Yeah, this is the same PETA that was content to wrap an intern in cellophane in the blazing summer sun. Real geniuses.

the accidental flatbread feast

Tonight could’ve been the worst night of cookery since the time I almost set Eric’s apartment on fire in an inept attempt at sauteeing eggplant. Through luck, help, and serendipitous
innovation, Amanda and I managed to salvage dough and dinner, and save Whoville. Well, we might’ve.

…

I had a plan for dinner this evening: a tasty palak-batata (spinach-potato) bhaaji, with a side of a sort of raitha. After returning from the grocery store, I discovered that I’d brought home neither yogurt for the raitha nor naan for the bhaaji. The raitha was pretty easy to substitute with cucumber slices, which I sprinkled with lemon, salt, and pepper. The bread problem was more serious. There is pretty much nowhere within a five-block radius where one can purchase naan. And I didn’t want to make rice, as that was for dinner tomorrow night.

That’s when Amanda came up with a chapati recipe. I hadn’t yet tried making the Indian flatbreads, as they take a lot of work and are best made with durum wheat atta rather than the all-purpose flour I had on hand. But her recipe seemed rather simple, so I gave it a shot. It was disastrous almost from the beginning. I unwittingly threw the proportions off with my hyperadjustment, leaving a sticky, glutinous mess. I decided to leave it alone until after making the bhaaji and hope for the best.

It was an unmitigated disaster. I tried to roll out the dough (with a bottle of Yuengling, no less!), but it snapped back into place. The laws of physics would not allow it to be rolled out into anything better than an oval. And it was still sticky to boot. After spending some time on stove, I came out with chewy, doughy, woefully undercooked hockey pucks. It was 10.00p, and I had no accompaniment.

Amanda noted that the bread looked like naan and could be used as naan, and it was indeed as thick as naan. But that would take another half hour to bake, and there was no guarantee it would work. Then, as we brainstormed other ways to use the dough, it hit me: fry them up! I poured a healthy dose of oil in the pan and dropped one of the pre-pucks into hot oil. It was crispy, but still doughy. Amanda rolled a couple dollops of dough out, and they came out much thinner.


After some frying, they…didn’t suck! They were a little crispy, so one couldn’t grab the bhaaji with chunks as one would with a normal flatbread. Instead, we were forced to eat in the fashion of chips-and-salsa.

The final product is displayed below. Tomorrow will feature a much, much simpler meal.

marathi jevan!

With my acquisition of a pressure cooker and its sundry auxilliary elements, I am finally able to cook a proper Marathi meal, almost like aai used to make. And still does. After the jump, my modest attempt at foodblogging.
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the other, other white meat

As you continue your easter feasting, particularly on pig meat, check out another delectable type of “pig”, after the jump.

[Content may disturb people who are enamored with small mammals or frequent sites like Cute Overload. I promise it's not a bunny. Viewer discretion is advised.]
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