I don't understand Bittman's fixation with making all-encompassing lists, as if he's trying to beat some sort of world record. His book is called "How to Cook Everything." Everything? Really? In the Times, he's always making lists of 101 ways to give your guests food poisoning, or whatever. This week, we are given a list of 101 simple appetizers, conveniently divided into categories. Like much of Bittman's list, some of the dishes look OK, but still half-assed, some look awful, and some are downright pointless. I don't have a lot of time to go through them one by one, but I've selected a few that jumped out at me as proving that sometimes, Mark, less is more.
#15: Don't pulse, however carefully, beef in order to make tartare. It'll turn it into a paste. Also, as Cathy pointed out to me: how does he trust his readers to handle the raw meat correctly so it doesn't kill all of his guests?
#16: Most of these dishes are of this format: cook protein, season, put on top of bread. Why do this just to get to 101?
The entire on toothpicks section could be renamed the "wrap shit in bacon" section. Boo.
#36: I'm pretty sure the first tapa was a piece of bread put on top of sherry glasses to keep the flies away. The next few all involved bread.
#37: What's the obsession with broiling? Also, five minutes is way too long to cook shrimp. And how inconvenient is taking them out of the broiler to turn them over?
#41: I don't get this. Do you not cook the beans? Or do you use cooked beans? And how the hell do you get this concoction on a toothpick?
The entire kebab section could be as short or long as he wants. Putting food on a stick? Come on...
#50: Isn't this just a deviled egg? Why is he not calling it that? Does he think he invented it?
#68: Quail? Who has quail? How do you "quarter" a quail?
#72: Now that's just cheating (see #56)...did you really need to get to 101 that badly?
#74: That is not a recipe. Neither is anything else he writes, though...
I can't do this anymore...
Oh wait.
#101: ...................
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Thursday, December 13, 2007
I love Mark Bittman
Not really, but this week, he manages to mostly avoid criticism with his column on ganaches and "truffles". While his ganache recipe isn't going to yield the best truffles (it's missing butter, I think), it's something that's pretty hard to screw up. Also, the story about the etymology is dubious (no one is really sure where they were even invented, Switzerland or France). Still, Bittman escapes my wrath.
I would like to take this rare opportunity to say that sometimes, Bittman does make some valuable points in his works. Once, I remember, he advised the reader to save shrimp or prawn shells to make stock. This is something that the average reader doesn't know that yields very favorable results and extends the use of the ingredient. Unfortunately, the other 99% of the time, he's wasting everybody's time.
I would like to take this rare opportunity to say that sometimes, Bittman does make some valuable points in his works. Once, I remember, he advised the reader to save shrimp or prawn shells to make stock. This is something that the average reader doesn't know that yields very favorable results and extends the use of the ingredient. Unfortunately, the other 99% of the time, he's wasting everybody's time.
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
A not-so-smooth way to run out of ideas
Upon reading this week's Minimalist column, my only thought was that Bittman was running out of ideas. Smoothies hardly make interesting culinary fodder, and Jamba Juice, last I recalled, was something you found as the "healthy" (don't kid yourself) option on most shopping mall food courts. But, as Bittman columns go, this one is hardly error-laden (hard to do with smoothies), so I was going to let it go, when two savvy Bittman Bites readers independently pointed out how absurd his column this week actually is.
Friend Cathy and girlfriend Lauren both remarked independently how unseasonal the column was. I'm not talking about seasonality in some California/Alice Waters/farmers market bullshit way, I really just mean: who wants a smoothie this time of year? Perhaps it's because I live in California, the sunshines state, where it's still decently warm, but I know the east coast isn't experiencing the same thing. Did Bittman just recycle his column from this "Emergency Minimalist Column" folder?
Of course, this got me on a roll. I've always associated smoothies with young, hip, gym-membership owning urbanites, yet the idea of Mark Bittman chugging his morning smoothie got me laughing to myself, out loud. I know this makes me crazy, but I really had flashes of Bittman in spandex and a headband throwing in protein boosters and acai berries to his smoothie before heading out to his local YMCA and hitting the treadmill. You'd laugh out loud too, wouldn't you?
Funnily enough, though, it was a much less flagrantly incorrect column than all his other ones...
Friend Cathy and girlfriend Lauren both remarked independently how unseasonal the column was. I'm not talking about seasonality in some California/Alice Waters/farmers market bullshit way, I really just mean: who wants a smoothie this time of year? Perhaps it's because I live in California, the sunshines state, where it's still decently warm, but I know the east coast isn't experiencing the same thing. Did Bittman just recycle his column from this "Emergency Minimalist Column" folder?
Of course, this got me on a roll. I've always associated smoothies with young, hip, gym-membership owning urbanites, yet the idea of Mark Bittman chugging his morning smoothie got me laughing to myself, out loud. I know this makes me crazy, but I really had flashes of Bittman in spandex and a headband throwing in protein boosters and acai berries to his smoothie before heading out to his local YMCA and hitting the treadmill. You'd laugh out loud too, wouldn't you?
Funnily enough, though, it was a much less flagrantly incorrect column than all his other ones...
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
According to Mark Bittman, there is "no more communal dish than hot pot". Another doubtful claim, since fondue, or korean barbecue, as well as a litany of others could be pointed out. Still, this one of Bittman's less offensive columns so I'll leave it at that. He hardly puts up a recipe and gives us an idea many would not have thought about attempting at home, so that's good, I guess. I could add that the French have an equivalent dish called "fondue bourguignonne", in which the pot is filled with oil, and chunks of good-quality beef are dunked in to be quickly fried outside and remain rare inside. Served with traditional accompaniments such as mustard and cornichons, it's quite delicious and easy to put together.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
I'd stick to a sandwich
This week, Bittman tackles what we should do with our turkey leftovers. How topical.
In this one, Bittman stays safe, though I'm again baffled as to why this deserved a column. Thankfully, Bittman spares us from his asinine opinions and sticks to his recipe, which, though not completely flawed, isn't particularly inspired. It also exhibits another hole in Bittman's knowledge. Risotto is partly qualified by the cooking method involving the slow incorporation of stock to a starchy grain (don't make it with water, please), but also by the stage known as "mantecare", where a combination of ingredients, usually parmesan and butter, is added to finish the dish and give it a creamy texture. I don't know why Bittman wouldn't include that in this dish, but if you're going to make this so-called risotto, at the very end, turn off the heat and add a 1/4 cup or so of parmesan and two tablespoons of butter.
The recipe also shows how little Bittman understands about the interchangeability of foods. Scallions and onions, though very closely related, are not used in the same way. Scallions have a very fresh and mild onion flavor, good for finishing dishes and accenting them too. They wouldn't be good as the base of flavor for risotto. Overcooked scallions have a bitter taste and that would spread through the risotto. Though I like the bitter in grilled scallions, that really wouldn't go with the risotto. Stick to onions. Also, his choice for herbs are all ok, but you would have to change the point in the cooking process at which to add your herb. Dill is very strong, so you should add it at the end unless you want the whole dish to taste like dill. Parsley should also be added at the end, as it is best enjoyed fresh. I don't think mint would go very well with the mushrooms. Tarragon could be added early or late, and I think it would be your best choice for this dish (that, or the parsley). As for the "crisp" ingredients, they will lose all their crispness as soon as they hit the 'risotto'. The mushrooms, in fact, won't get crisp at all (they have too much moisture in them). Ok, I take it back: the recipe is pretty flawed after all. Also, he definitely burns something in the video, AND he adds the liquid all at once, which is sooooo wrong.
If you're really completely at a loss as to what to do with your turkey, and can't just make a delicious sandwich (soaking the turkey in gravy beforehand, of course), I would take the rest of the turkey, cook up some mirepoix (carrots, onion, celery) and add the chopped up turkey, then braise it in a little milk, with tomato paste, and finally finish cooking it very slowly in white wine. You'll have yourself a Thanksgiving ragu.
I'd like to take this opportunity to start my campaign to end Bittman's war on America's kitchens this Christmas. Tom Colicchio, of Top Chef fame, is re-releasing his cookbook Think Like a Chef. I don't known this book, but I've browsed through it, and it is a carefully thought out book that teaches home cooks how to cook properly without being too overwhelming, like a lot of chef cookbooks can be to the average cook. If you know someone who thinks Bittman is a godsend, please, I prithy, stage an intervention and bear Colicchio's book as a gift. Please. For the kids.
In this one, Bittman stays safe, though I'm again baffled as to why this deserved a column. Thankfully, Bittman spares us from his asinine opinions and sticks to his recipe, which, though not completely flawed, isn't particularly inspired. It also exhibits another hole in Bittman's knowledge. Risotto is partly qualified by the cooking method involving the slow incorporation of stock to a starchy grain (don't make it with water, please), but also by the stage known as "mantecare", where a combination of ingredients, usually parmesan and butter, is added to finish the dish and give it a creamy texture. I don't know why Bittman wouldn't include that in this dish, but if you're going to make this so-called risotto, at the very end, turn off the heat and add a 1/4 cup or so of parmesan and two tablespoons of butter.
The recipe also shows how little Bittman understands about the interchangeability of foods. Scallions and onions, though very closely related, are not used in the same way. Scallions have a very fresh and mild onion flavor, good for finishing dishes and accenting them too. They wouldn't be good as the base of flavor for risotto. Overcooked scallions have a bitter taste and that would spread through the risotto. Though I like the bitter in grilled scallions, that really wouldn't go with the risotto. Stick to onions. Also, his choice for herbs are all ok, but you would have to change the point in the cooking process at which to add your herb. Dill is very strong, so you should add it at the end unless you want the whole dish to taste like dill. Parsley should also be added at the end, as it is best enjoyed fresh. I don't think mint would go very well with the mushrooms. Tarragon could be added early or late, and I think it would be your best choice for this dish (that, or the parsley). As for the "crisp" ingredients, they will lose all their crispness as soon as they hit the 'risotto'. The mushrooms, in fact, won't get crisp at all (they have too much moisture in them). Ok, I take it back: the recipe is pretty flawed after all. Also, he definitely burns something in the video, AND he adds the liquid all at once, which is sooooo wrong.
If you're really completely at a loss as to what to do with your turkey, and can't just make a delicious sandwich (soaking the turkey in gravy beforehand, of course), I would take the rest of the turkey, cook up some mirepoix (carrots, onion, celery) and add the chopped up turkey, then braise it in a little milk, with tomato paste, and finally finish cooking it very slowly in white wine. You'll have yourself a Thanksgiving ragu.
I'd like to take this opportunity to start my campaign to end Bittman's war on America's kitchens this Christmas. Tom Colicchio, of Top Chef fame, is re-releasing his cookbook Think Like a Chef. I don't known this book, but I've browsed through it, and it is a carefully thought out book that teaches home cooks how to cook properly without being too overwhelming, like a lot of chef cookbooks can be to the average cook. If you know someone who thinks Bittman is a godsend, please, I prithy, stage an intervention and bear Colicchio's book as a gift. Please. For the kids.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Me and the Bittman: procrastinators extraodinaire
When I was in college, I wrote a column in the school newspaper with my friend "E" (he shall remain anonymous so the authorities can't find him). We wrote the column for three years, and by senior year, it had become a bit of a burden as we were busy studying (at least he was). We often wrote the column right before our deadlines, and usually turned it in late. Though we had some spectacular ones, many of them fell way way short of our intention to create much laughter (and make panties drop).
Today's Bittman column made me think of those times we rushed to put out something crappy. The difference is, of course, that he writes for the New York Times, and they supposedly have standards.
In his babble about gravy, Bittman says that the sauce in question is really hard to make and takes two burners (already completely wrong...gravy is easy), but that its presence is so necessary that it's not Thanksgiving without it. Then he goes on to give a horrible gravy recipe followed by four non-gravy sauces. But Mark, didn't you just finish telling us it wasn't Thanksgiving without it?
The sauces themselves and their recipes are terrible. I'll need a list for this one:
- Don't make that parsley puree. It will taste awful. I guarantee it. But if you must, and you make it advance, you need to cover it with olive oil before storing it, otherwise it will become brown. If you want to make something like that, add shallots, garlic and oregano and vinegar, with salt and pepper and olive oil, and you'll have a sort of chimichurri/salsa verde type of thing.
- An eggless bearnaise is not a bearnaise. I'm sure this sauce tastes ok, but don't call it a bearnaise. It won't taste anything like one. Also, I would use much less vinegar, and add some tarragon mustard. And don't use dried tarragon. Dried and fresh herbs are NOT interchangeable.
- Barbecue sauce at Thanksgiving? WTF? Turkey already doesn't have much taste, and this sauce would kill it.
- If you're going to make his "gravy" recipe, don't let your roux turn brown. Also, I think you'll need to reduce your stock to concentrate enough flavor. Finally, do "Minimalists" ever make their own stock, especially with roasted bones? That seems like a lot of fussiness for a minimalist.
But you knew this was going to be a last-minute-before-deadline column when the opening line is: "THOUGH there is pleasure in the ritual of Thanksgiving, its culinary choices are limited by the near absolute necessity of the turkey." Isn't the whole point of Thanksgiving to make that specific food combination? Do Jews feel constrained at Hanukah when their culinary choices are limited to latkes and doughnuts? I don't feel bad for the person who makes me a cake on my birthday or ask her angrily why she couldn't make me a birthday sandwich instead. Thanksgiving = turkey. And if you don't like it, you can leave this country...uh, just kidding. You can just make something else. This year, I'm going to a "pie party" for T-day, where all the food has to be in the form of a pie. I have a big plan, which I'll share with on The Gourmet Pig. Mark, I don't think your readers are so stupid that they can't figure out an alternative to Thanksgiving food if they want it.
I have a couple of tips for those who really have a problem making gravy (aside from buying it in a powdered form, of course...):
- Stove top gravy can be easy. When the turkey is done, remove it from the roasting pan. Put the roasting pan over a burner, and deglaze with a bit of wine wine to get all of the drippings, which are the base of flavor for the gravy. Then add chicken broth on top and a little bit of thyme. Let it reduce a bit, then take off the heat. Once the fat has settled at the top, skim it off, and that's your gravy. If you want it to have that thick consistency, you can thicken it with corn starch or a mixture of flour and butter (mixed before hand).
- Last year, we made a mushroom gravy, which tastes really meaty and can be made with the turkey in the oven. Just take about 2 pounds of mushrooms (button mushrooms are fine), and chop them up in small pieces. Over low heat, heat them in butter (a LOT of butter) until they sweat out their juices. Continue reducing, adding butter if necessary, until the mushrooms are barely recognizable. If you are anal like me, you may want to pass the mixture through a blender, but it will be just fine without it. If it seems to thick, add chicken stock. This thing is delicious.
See you next week, I'm sure.
Today's Bittman column made me think of those times we rushed to put out something crappy. The difference is, of course, that he writes for the New York Times, and they supposedly have standards.
In his babble about gravy, Bittman says that the sauce in question is really hard to make and takes two burners (already completely wrong...gravy is easy), but that its presence is so necessary that it's not Thanksgiving without it. Then he goes on to give a horrible gravy recipe followed by four non-gravy sauces. But Mark, didn't you just finish telling us it wasn't Thanksgiving without it?
The sauces themselves and their recipes are terrible. I'll need a list for this one:
- Don't make that parsley puree. It will taste awful. I guarantee it. But if you must, and you make it advance, you need to cover it with olive oil before storing it, otherwise it will become brown. If you want to make something like that, add shallots, garlic and oregano and vinegar, with salt and pepper and olive oil, and you'll have a sort of chimichurri/salsa verde type of thing.
- An eggless bearnaise is not a bearnaise. I'm sure this sauce tastes ok, but don't call it a bearnaise. It won't taste anything like one. Also, I would use much less vinegar, and add some tarragon mustard. And don't use dried tarragon. Dried and fresh herbs are NOT interchangeable.
- Barbecue sauce at Thanksgiving? WTF? Turkey already doesn't have much taste, and this sauce would kill it.
- If you're going to make his "gravy" recipe, don't let your roux turn brown. Also, I think you'll need to reduce your stock to concentrate enough flavor. Finally, do "Minimalists" ever make their own stock, especially with roasted bones? That seems like a lot of fussiness for a minimalist.
But you knew this was going to be a last-minute-before-deadline column when the opening line is: "THOUGH there is pleasure in the ritual of Thanksgiving, its culinary choices are limited by the near absolute necessity of the turkey." Isn't the whole point of Thanksgiving to make that specific food combination? Do Jews feel constrained at Hanukah when their culinary choices are limited to latkes and doughnuts? I don't feel bad for the person who makes me a cake on my birthday or ask her angrily why she couldn't make me a birthday sandwich instead. Thanksgiving = turkey. And if you don't like it, you can leave this country...uh, just kidding. You can just make something else. This year, I'm going to a "pie party" for T-day, where all the food has to be in the form of a pie. I have a big plan, which I'll share with on The Gourmet Pig. Mark, I don't think your readers are so stupid that they can't figure out an alternative to Thanksgiving food if they want it.
I have a couple of tips for those who really have a problem making gravy (aside from buying it in a powdered form, of course...):
- Stove top gravy can be easy. When the turkey is done, remove it from the roasting pan. Put the roasting pan over a burner, and deglaze with a bit of wine wine to get all of the drippings, which are the base of flavor for the gravy. Then add chicken broth on top and a little bit of thyme. Let it reduce a bit, then take off the heat. Once the fat has settled at the top, skim it off, and that's your gravy. If you want it to have that thick consistency, you can thicken it with corn starch or a mixture of flour and butter (mixed before hand).
- Last year, we made a mushroom gravy, which tastes really meaty and can be made with the turkey in the oven. Just take about 2 pounds of mushrooms (button mushrooms are fine), and chop them up in small pieces. Over low heat, heat them in butter (a LOT of butter) until they sweat out their juices. Continue reducing, adding butter if necessary, until the mushrooms are barely recognizable. If you are anal like me, you may want to pass the mixture through a blender, but it will be just fine without it. If it seems to thick, add chicken stock. This thing is delicious.
See you next week, I'm sure.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
I think I've seen this before...
Upon finishing the second paragraph of this week's Minimalist column, I said out loud: "Wait a minute....isn't that a pizza fritta?"
With a passing acknowledgment in the next paragraph, Bittman suggests that maybe his friend's idea isn't so new. He would have been better off to describe pizza fritta for what it really is: fried dough, usually sprinkled with sugar on top. Hmmm...so good. And it's a pretty common thing in Italy, and even in some Italian places on the East Coast. Under its English moniker, it can be found in any carnival. Also, the Scottish version is absolutely disgusting, stuffed with french fries (not "chips", Bittman, please do some research and don't just copy a web page) and only eaten by the drunkest of people. Not really the same thing as a pizza fritta.
As for the recipe...it takes two hours to make. That doesn't seem too minimalist to me. I'm sure it tastes decent, and his dough recipe looks about right, but I do think that there's a good reason people order pizza. It's work intensive and a mess to do on a small scale. You also need to have a REALLY hot oven to get it right. I think I'll just stick to my local pizzeria. If you are to make it at home, though, I do recommend the sweet version, which is just delicious.
With a passing acknowledgment in the next paragraph, Bittman suggests that maybe his friend's idea isn't so new. He would have been better off to describe pizza fritta for what it really is: fried dough, usually sprinkled with sugar on top. Hmmm...so good. And it's a pretty common thing in Italy, and even in some Italian places on the East Coast. Under its English moniker, it can be found in any carnival. Also, the Scottish version is absolutely disgusting, stuffed with french fries (not "chips", Bittman, please do some research and don't just copy a web page) and only eaten by the drunkest of people. Not really the same thing as a pizza fritta.
As for the recipe...it takes two hours to make. That doesn't seem too minimalist to me. I'm sure it tastes decent, and his dough recipe looks about right, but I do think that there's a good reason people order pizza. It's work intensive and a mess to do on a small scale. You also need to have a REALLY hot oven to get it right. I think I'll just stick to my local pizzeria. If you are to make it at home, though, I do recommend the sweet version, which is just delicious.
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