After spending more than two decades in development, a mandarin hybrid that some fruit experts are calling "the best thing they've ever eaten in the world of citrus" is now on the market, albeit in limited quantities.
When Gmitter joined the Florida faculty in 1985, he discovered his predecessor's experimental citrus groves had been destroyed. Only a block's worth of trees remained, and most of those were "ugly to look at and horrible to eat." But among the duds, he found a tree growing superb orange fruit. He and his colleagues used that tree to create the university's first-ever cultivar.
Since citrus breeding is slow going, the introduction of new varieties is relatively rare. But Peter Chaires, executive director of the company that holds licensing rights to the Sugar Belle, says the fruit could mark the start of a citrus golden age.
"This is the first one out of a long pipeline," Chaires says. "We have some interesting things coming, including an easy-peel mandarin. We'll see varieties for fresh consumption, varieties for the juice market and a lemon-lime hybrid."
The mercury's dropping which means it's time to break out that trusty crock pot for set-it-and-forget-it cold weather cooking.
Move over pot roast -- did you ever think of making cobbler in a slow cooker? The ice cream on top might be worth the extra wintry chill down your spine. Try replacing the blueberries in this recipe with frozen or canned peaches.
Remember when sun-dried tomatoes were trendy in the 1980s? They were considered chic, foreign, even elegant. I remember one of my first experiences eating them in a Pittsburgh restaurant called Café Allegro.
I had a Gorgonzola-stuffed pear -- which I still think about to this day -- and creamy, luscious bow-tie pasta with plumped sun-dried tomatoes soaked in oil.
These tomatoes are so sweet and tangy. Why did they fall out of favor?
'Cooking With Pumpkins and Squash' By Brian Glover Photography by Peter Cassidy Ryland Peteres & Small -- 2008 Buy it on Amazon
Despite early fall's T-shirt weather and last-summer's-hurrah barbecues, Brian Glover's "Cooking With Pumpkins and Squash" beckoned. Although it largely consists of hot autumn colors and warming recipes, this exquisite cold-weather cookbook could not sit one week in the kitchen before we cracked.
We blame Glover's seductive prose: "Some flavors stand out as having a real affinity with squashes and pumpkins of all shapes and sizes; their nutty sweetness works well with salty tastes such as goat cheese, feta and olives..." His understanding of squash's potential as an adaptable base -- to be spiked with other bold ingredients and not merely to be devoured on its own -- intrigued us.
Though many niche cookbooks devoted to a particular ingredient can be characterized as too centric toward their subject, "Cooking With Pumpkins and Squash" reveals refreshingly complex recipes with unexpected flavors. "Light bites" recipes like Grilled Zucchini, Halloumi and Fava Beans with Tomato and Mint Dressing expertly showcase and complement the light, springy flavor of summer squash, while heartier entrées like the Pumpkin Risotto with Pancetta and Sage suit the rich, silky texture of pumpkin and butternut squash.
See what we tested and find out whether the book's worth buying after the jump.
'Williams-Sonoma New Flavors for Appetizers' Edited by Chuck Williams Recipes by Amy Sherman Photos by Tucker + Hossler Oxmoor House -- 2009 (hardback) Buy it at Amazon
Ready to move beyond dips and carrot sticks for your soirees, but not ready to face the Full Martha? This is the guide for you. The book is divvied into sections highlighting each season's freshest ingredients and simple, elegant ways to show 'em off. Bonus -- a goodly bit of space is devoted to party planning tips, basic recipes (mayo, risotto, pizza dough), a glossary, techniques for handling veggies and a guide to what is freshest when.
Takeaway tips: Freshness is your best ingredient. Using seasonal ingredients means you'll need to do little to adorn them -- just make sure to use cooking methods, seasonings and pairings that show them off to their best advantage, and add flavor in layers. Specific methodologies are generously shared throughout the book.
Quality of pictures: Appetizing -- if a little washed out by the matte paper. Not step-by-step instructive, but oriented toward the finished product.
We tested: Pan-Seared Spring Lamb Chops with Mint-Pistachio Pesto and Olives and Feta Marinated with Lemon and Ouzo Recipes were incredibly easy to follow, accessible, thorough and aided by sidebars offering further explanations of ingredients' flavor profiles and best methods for use. Lovely balance of veggie-friendly dishes and slightly heartier fare.
Worth the investment: Would make a great hostess or shower gift, or smart inspiration for anyone who's ready to bump their parties' sophistication level up a notch or two.
Being a beer writer isn't as fun and easy as it looks. Most weeks I spend more time staring down a computer than a pint. I do say "most weeks," however. This coming week will not be one of those weeks.
From Friday, March 6th through Sunday, March 15th, Philadelphia will be host to Philly Beer Week 2009 -- a 10 day extravaganza featuring over 650 events from well over 100 participants, including dozens of different breweries and brewers crashing the city limits and some points beyond.
They've tagged the event "America's Best Beer-Drinking City," and though that title can certainly be debated, the official Philly Beer Week website lays out some compelling evidence to back their claim. A quick look at the event map makes you wonder if there's anywhere in Philadelphia not involved in Beer Week and the list of events is nothing short of overwhelming.
I'll be in town tomorrow (Friday) until Wednesday, March 11th, blogging about events along the way. My first stop will be the Opening Tap if you want to come follow me around. But better yet, check out phillybeerweek.org and see what strikes your fancy. As a former Philly resident, so many of these amazing bars have a special place in my heart, I wouldn't even know how to start playing favorites. You'll probably see me everywhere, because almost anywhere you can get to is worth the stop.
Yesterday brought a rare treat to Atlanta: a real, steady, robust snowfall. The flakes were fat puffs, not icy almost-hail, and much of it stuck. Growing up, I missed school only once every year or two for a true snow day, but when I did, my mother did it up right. Our family ate our traditional snow-day breakfast of light-as-air fritters with syrup, and after a day of snowball fights and sledding on a nearby golf course, we were treated to ice cream made from fresh powder.
In case you've known no such delight, I'll tell you how to recreate this quintessential childhood treat. First, you want to gather a couple quarts of untouched new-fallen snow. If you're expecting snow, you can put out a receptacle to gather it for you. Immediately, gingerly mix in about a half a cup of ice-cold whole milk or half-and-half into which you've dissolved a quarter cup of sugar, and stir in a teaspoon of vanilla extract. And that's it: no freezing, no churning. A quick Google search reveals that my mother's recipe is the most common, but Paula Deen offers a slightly different version with condensed milk instead of milk and sugar. That makes good sense to me, too.
You could try some easy flavor experiments, too. If you use chocolate milk instead of regular and add a splash of cold espresso, you've got mocha ice cream. Fresh-squeezed lemon or orange juice would make a lovely creamsicle-like flavor. Cinnamon, ginger, and cocoa also make lovely additions. Snow ice-cream is ultra-light, so I'd caution against heavy mix-ins like nuts or cookies; better to stick with liquid and powdered flavorings. Make the most of this long winter!
This year is the 10th anniversary of Open That Bottle Night, an evening invented by Wall Street Journal wine writers Dorothy Gaiter and John Brecher, and they invite you to participate.
What exactly is Open That Bottle Night? It's an excuse to open a bottle you've been hoarding and saving for a special occasion (that never seems to roll around). It's a night where you can savor an incredible wine all by yourself, with someone special, or with a big group of foodie friends. It's a night where you have a reason to Open That Bottle.
As a confirmed wine hoarder, I love the idea. I tend to save special bottles and then never open them because it's never the right time, or I don't think the occasion warrants it. OTBN is about letting go of those packrat tendencies. I've gone through my wine and can't decide what to drink. I'm leaning toward the 2005 Fort Walla Walla Cellars Treaty, a gift from my parents and a truly amazing wine, but then again, it's supposed to be good for another decade or longer, so maybe I should hold off. I've got some unique wines like Norton from Missouri, and a bunch of South African Cabernet.
The important thing is to open something. And this year, you can Twitter about it. What will you be drinking on Saturday for OTBN 10?
So how are your New Year's Resolutions going? Still making it to the gym, cutting down on the carbs, repurposing your Starbucks addiciton to a fix of regular joe from the deli? Good luck with all that. You can never let it be said that one of the world's leading suppliers of premium carbohydrates isn't in your corner.
Saturday was the fifth running of what has become a tradition in Raleigh, North Carolina: the Krispy Kreme Doughnut Challenge, in which the power of a mountain of doughnuts is harvested as motivation and fuel for a four mile race whose midpoint is not a shot of some namby-pamby sports drink but the scarfing of a dozen glazed. Finally, a sport everyone can support, and athletes everyone can identify with: carbo track and field.
Here's how the doughnut triathalon works: registrants gather at the belltower on the North Carolina State campus as early as 6:30 a.m., pre-doughnut-run doughnuts optional but not exactly wise. These finely-tuned thoroughbreds warm up in anticipation of the 9:30 a.m. start time for a run to the Krispy Kreme doughnut shop on Peace Street, where will be awaiting one dozen warm glazed doughnuts. These have to be scarfed (coffee optional but allowed), and then the journey repeated to the belltower (barfing optional but presumably allowed). The runner does not have to eat all of their doughnuts but has to weather the resulting humiliation if they don't. They have to complete the entire triathalon in one hour or less.
Before writing this piece, I checked the Slashfood archives to make sure that I wasn't repeating something that had recently been covered. I needn't have worried; while we've had a few posts on German food over the years, our coverage has tended to focus on chocolate cake, beer, and potato salad, in that order.
While unfortunate, this is totally understandable. Although once a respected cuisine, German food has fallen on hard times. Rich in flavor, it is also rich in fat and salt, and lacks the exuberant seasoning of Italian food or the light freshness of nouvelle cuisine. It is a warming cuisine for a cold climate and, with its emphasis on preserved vegetables and cheap cuts of meat, it seems out-of-place in our fast-paced, refrigerator-dependent world.
The thing is, German food is attractive, cheap, and flavorful. Easy to prepare and a pleasure to eat, it is home cooking in the most meaningful sense of the word. What's more, by reducing serving sizes, playing with accompaniments and adjusting ingredients, it is possible to enjoy the reassuring warmth of German seasoning without breaking our increasingly health-conscious American diets.
In many ways, New York's Inside Park restaurant could not have found a worse time to open. Located in a prime spot on Park Avenue, its first week was overshadowed by the excitement of the United Nations' General Assembly meeting. Moreover, the extensive security surrounding the delegates, many of whom were staying across the street at the Waldorf-Astoria, made it next to impossible for interested patrons to find their way to the restaurant's door. Over the following months, further events, ranging from the Jewish holidays to the downfall of the economy, conspired to tank the fledgling restaurant. Still, Inside Park soldiered on, determined to succeed in a falling market and a newly-restrained city, where a night on the town had started to seem like a luxury, instead of a birthright.
Luckily, Inside Park has a lot going for it. Located in the former community center of New York's St. Bartholomew's Church, the restaurant has undergone a multi-million dollar restoration that tranformed the old, battle-scarred institutional space into an elegant yet intimate venue. From the rafters painted in folk art-inspired designs to the the whitewashed walls that look like they belong in a monastery, to the dramatic stage that dominates the dining room, the restaurant exudes a kind of grandeur that seems a product of the twentieth, not the 21st century. The addition of a crisp, friendly-yet-efficient wait staff and a thoughtfully-prepared and innovative menu complete the picture.
Still, for all the ambiance of its space and skill of its staff, Inside Park has fought an uphill battle to find customers, particularly with a falling economy dictating that many New Yorkers are more inclined to eat in than go out. Over the past few months, the high prices and expensive delicacies that have so long fueled New York's fine dining scene have not been an easy sell. With that in mind, the restaurant has organized a series of "Heritage Cuisine Dinners." Priced at $35 per person, the three course dinners each focus on a distinctive regional food, offering a perfectly prepared meal at a price that is slightly less than that of a standard entree. Although the dinners, including cassoulet, paella, and bouillabase, have humble origins, Chef Matthew Weingarten's emphasis on local ingredients and thoughtful, respectful preparation elevates them to the level of fine dining.
April may be the cruelest month, but January is surely the coldest. It's the perfect time to break out big, robust red wines that warm your body and soul. And what better to eat with a big red wine than a big steaming bowl of chili?
This weekend we had about a dozen people over for a blind tasting of six Carmeneres, all from Chile (the country--don't get Chile and chili confused!). Carmenere is Chile's signature grape, brought over from Bordeaux in the late 19th century. The wine is deeply dark and full-bodied, and in Chile can have a somewhat vegetal flavor, though it can also be quite fruity and spicy.
The six we tried ranged in price from $10 to $47. Chile is known around the world for its value wine, and it definitely delivered in our tasting. When the bags were pulled off, it turned out that several of us put the $10 wine in our top favorites. Surprisingly, everyone from the least- to the most-experienced tasters felt that all of the wines were good, and comparable in their quality, even though the prices were not.
More tasting notes and my "Chili for a Crowd" recipe after the jump.
Planning your Super Bowl party? Epicurious has a whole package of game day ideas, from recipe slideshows to a Q&A with Super Bowl chef Ron Krivosik. There are even special menus tailored team allegiances - a Southwestern-inspired buffet of margaritas, enchiladas, chile con carne, corn pudding, cactus and apple salad, and chocolate chimichangas for the Arizona Cardinals, and a hearty, Polish-flavored spread of lager, kielbasa, pierogies, creamy coleslaw, french fries, and banana split pie for the Pittsburgh Steelers.
There's also not one, but seven different chicken wing recipes - I'm keen to try the sticky sesame version. Plus, there's a tailgate recipe contest and a guide to gear (helmet snack trays or a football-shaped grill, anyone?).
What are you planning on serving for the Super Bowl this Sunday? Do you have any bowl traditions?
At the first hint of a chill in the air this past October, I seized the opportunity to cook that month's Bon Appétit cover recipe: Texas Beef Brisket Chili, a beyond-hearty stew of melt-y beef, earthy dried chilies, and, surprisingly to me, butternut squash. The mild sweetness of the squash resonated beautifully with the spicy and fruity (due to the dried chilies) components of the dish and also gripped the gravy nicely. I'd found a new carnivorous delight.
More recently, though, I discovered that the carnivorous part was, if welcome to a meat-lover like me, incidental to the success of the chili. Planning for the arrival of houseguests, one of whom is a vegetarian, I wanted something that could simmer in the slow-cooker while I visited with my friends. I thought of this chili, tossing the bacon and brisket and subbing in a mix of red and black beans. I also threw in a couple of julienned red bell peppers, which I browned with the onion to give the dish a bit more depth.
Success! The squash got tender before the beans did, but the squash still held its shape just fine. I now believe that butternut squash could jazz up any favorite chili recipe. Try it with yours!