fwords

Here We Go Again

Is it just me, or was Twitter designed to fuel petty grudges? I keep reading gossip columns about how Courtney Love railed off a bunch of half-legible tweets about various Hole-wannabe bands ripping her off and not being real punk rockers. HEY COURTNEY, YOU'RE TWEETING BY THE WAY. I'm not sure, but I can guess that Lydia Lunch and Xene Cervenka are both vomiting somewhere on the remains of your "punk" corpse, which pretty much died around the time you released a song by the name of "Malibu."

Hey, hey, we're all watching you...

Celebrity chefs and food writers are not immune to this turrets-like spewing. Just yesterday Tyler Florence tweeted against The New York Times food critic Frank Bruni for giving a poor review to Govind Armstrong's restaurant Table 8. His rant was met with a backlash of comments from readers on Eater.com, calling him a bunch of names like "mannequin" and "fake chef," etc. And maybe that is what I am essentially doing to Courtney above. The differences between Tyler and Courtney, however, are manifold. As I haven't eaten at Table 8, I have no opinion on it or what Tyler said. But I can speak to his character. Some elitist foodies take issue with Tyler being on television, and having lent his name to various brands over the years. And those are facts listed on his resume for sure. But he is also developing a restaurant in San Francisco, Bar Florence, so that he can return to his roots in the kitchen. He is producing his own wine from a vineyard he acquired. He continues to travel across the U.S. and abroad to cultivate his craft and expand his breadth of food knowledge and having shared a meal with him at a very popular restaurant in the past, I actually feel like he has a much less forgiving palette than many flaks, bloggers and food writers out there. From that same dinner, I also know that he has his own gripes with Food Network and its limitations/current focus on reality competitions and that his ideal endgame does not involve cameras or stylists. If others on Eater were to speak frankly with him, I believe they would be surprised to find more of a kindred spirit than they expect.

All Courtney seems to be doing is... lots of drugs.

At the end of the day, I guess I am also thinking about this because I am struggling with the decision to put fwords on Twitter or not. On the one hand, I think it could be a great, fast way to communicate more food revelations to more people. But...it also seems to be a cesspool for navel gazing and hate-mongering.

What do you all think? Yay or nay? Would you follow me?

Last Bite: Michael Symon's raw olive-juice-marinated tuna with lemon zest, pierogies with wild mushrooms and onion, mini lump crab cakes, and salty, crunchy zucchini fritters, among other appetizers at Food Network studios. I feel like Fat Albert. But I am inspired to make those zucchini fritters this weekend—because one was not enough.

So Insane: Häagen-Dazs: Winner!

So I was out late last night...randomly with the cast of Gossip Girl (which, as you all know, is not really my m.o. at all. It's usually more like the cast of Boy Meets Grill haha)...and Ed Westwick told me in his refined British accent that I was "a beautiful flower, and never apologize for anything"...and I might be a little drunk off of that compliment still...among other things...

...but I did manage to pull it together 10 minutes ago to draw a winner from the pile (yes, pile!) of names who posted correct answers yesterday.

And the winner is....Allie Newman! A first-timer, at that! Congratulations!

Thanks for playing everyone. Now I am going to return to feeling smug and pretty for a few hours until something embarrassing or clumsy happens and ruins it all.

So Insane: Häagen-Dazs

Ohh, it's a humid mess out there today, isn't it. You know what would be nice? Some ice cream. Lucky for you, today I am giving away a gift certificate for one free 14 oz Häagen-Dazs product (or a package of Häagen-Dazs bars). Good timing, right?!

But as always, there is the little matter of winning it. Answer the question below in the comments section. All those who answer correctly will have their names put into a hat at the end of the night and a winner shall be drawn at random from the pile. Good luck!

Question: In the real world (i.e. non blogosphere), what is my actual job title?

Mad About You

As you know, I'm quite obsessed with Alice in Wonderland. Along with reading Lewis Carroll's books as a child cover to cover and randomly quoting, "'Twas brillig and the slithy tove did gyre and gimble in the mave..." like some afflicted out-patient for years on end, I dressed up as the blonde explorer one and a half years ago for Halloween, and am not ashamed to say that I was compelled to purchase vintage Alice stickers in a shop in Williamsburg a month or so back. My affection for the story runs deep. As deep as some rabbit holes, it would seem. Well. Since watching the trailer for Tim Burton's upcoming rendition, I've been daydreaming about throwing absurd (read: amazing) mad tea parties in advance of its release which, it must be said, is many months away. But the good thing about a long wait is that it give me more time to plan.

So I'm starting a shopping list...

I think this lamp from Anthropologie is a must. And if you think buying a lamp to celebrate a movie is insane, then you are starting to understand the theme of a mad tea party.

The menu is something I am still wrapping my head around. But I am pretty sure we will need at least 22 swans to harness the petits-four trays to their backs. I'll keep you posted.

Upside Down

Last week I spotted Baked Alaska making appearances across the city on various menus and predicted its anointing as the next "it" sweet of the season. But perhaps I spoke too soon. This morning, while lazing my way into the day via some social notworking and Flikr food porn, I came across the above photo on The New York Times website for Mark Bittman's Mock Lattice Pie and realized that there is a competitor for Dessert Du Jour in our midst. The Mock Lattice Pie is a cheeky riff on a stone-fruit cobbler, basically encouraging the home cook to forget about bottom pie crusts and layer pieces of dough—in as mad cap a design as you like: think cut-outs of hearts, stars, ellipses, hexagons—on top, eliminating the whole unevenly-rolled-burned-bottom-crust risk and increasing the fruitiness factor.

Some pie purists will inevitably bark at this notion, which begs the question: Are you a top or a bottom? (Feel free to answer in the comments section below)

What struck me most about Bittman's winking recipe was NOT its gorgeous photography NOR Bitty's devil-may-care approach to 400ºF ovens and rolling pins, or even his witty writing style. No. What struck me was that...I had seen this before. Just a few days ago, in fact. On Episode 6 of Bravo's Top Chef Masters, competitor Art Smith beat out his opponents with an elimination entree of Fried Chicken Two Ways (Fried Chicken Leg with Swiss Chard and Cheddar Grits; Smothered Chicken Thigh with Smashed White Yams and Apples) accompanied by an ADORABLE individual-sized Mango Pie with a homey, free-form Sugar Crust lovingly tossed on top.

Did Bittman bite Smith's style? Do bottom crusts stand a chance of recovering from this fad? Will home cooks across America soon be showing up to church socials with half-naked desserts in tow? WWJCD? (What Would Julia Child Do?)

Below, Art Smith's recipe for Mango Pie with Sugar Crust:

Mango Pie Ingredients

• 2 mangos, peeled, diced
• 1/4 stick of unsalted butter
• 1/4 cup cane sugar
• 1 pinch corn starch
• 1 tablespoon of vanilla extract

Pastry Ingredients

• 2 cups all purpose flour
• 2 tablespoons sugar
• 1/4 cup unsalted butter, cut into pieces
• 3 tablespoons or so of ice water
• 2 tablespoons of melted unsalted butter, for glaze
• 2 tablespoon of half and half
• Sugar for glaze

Method for the Mango Pie

In a hot sauté pan, sauté mangos with butter and sugar. Sprinkle corn starch and stir well. Cook till mango is soft and juicy. Reserve and allow to cool. When cool add the vanilla.

Method for the Pastry

Sift flour and sugar, cut butter into flour, with a fork, adding droplets of ice water to flour butter mixture and stirring until it all comes together. Place a little flour on the work surface. Take the dough and slight work. Chill for at least 1 hour.

In about 12, 3-ounce individual dishes add the mango mixture. Roll dough out about 1/4 inch and cover each pie.

Brush melted butter, half and half and sprinkle with sugar. Bake in 400 degree F oven till pies are bubbly, about 20-25 minutes.

Last Sip: Maple Syrup Margaritas at Shebeen on Mott St. Sweet dreams....

Leave This City: Winner!

Well well well, I have to say that I love the controversy that PLJ continually starts in the comments section! But while he always gets the laughs...he got it all wrong this time around. My favorite Riesling inspired by a pop-punk song is Kung Fu Girl Riesling, from Charles Smith Wines in Washington state. And if anyone had done the research...when I first wrote about the wine two years ago on this blog, I mentioned the song "Kung Fu Girls" by Blondie...clearly the inspiration behind its rocking label! And that's that.

So, the winner drawn at random from the correct answers...is:

Linda! Congratulations!

See you all next week. (But feel free to read other posts in the meantime.)

Leave This City

Today's giveaway is a big newly redesigned bottle of Drambuie, complete with personal shaker and a slick silver-coated box for storing inside of your home bar...when you are not mixing Scottish cocktails, that is.

So how can you get your brogue-tinged lips on it? In the comments section below, answer the following question. All those who answer correctly will have their names thrown in a hat at the end of the night, and one will be chosen at random as the winner.

Question: From reading this blog (or from doing research online), please name my favorite type of Riesling inspired by a pop-punk song.

(I know, I know, a question about riesling hardly goes with a drambuie prize...but...so be it! Good luck!)

Last Trip (In Flight)

Over the weekend, I received a funny little e-mail from a friend and fellow blogger, Abby, who recently had a 4-hour layover at JFK. Four hours! Yikes. How to kill time when you're trapped between a tube and a tarmac? Well, you could dance around on those Jetson-like conveyor belts for humans.

Or, like Abby, you could hightail it over to Terminal 5, where there's a shmancy bar waiting to help you slosh your cares away with some twisted tipple. The menu, for your reading pleasure, is presented below. Grilled Pineapple, anyone?