Where did you have the best buffet?

Today is the day: the day to post the best, worst, most sublime and most trying food stories.

We all have them – now its time to share!

Use your instagram, facebook, twitter, and foursquare accounts to share your pictures, quips and posts on your experiences with food.  We will collect the stories and post our favorites to our webpage.

Post your stories and photos with the hashtag #foodstory to @kafcooks, Facebook, or below in the comments section.

Need ideas?

What are you eating right now?  

Best/worst dishes.  

Funny restaurant stories.  

Food travels and festivals.  

Family recipes.  

Photos and links welcome.

If we like your story, we may contact you for more information !

[

Chef Pierre Gignac of Ocean at the Cape Arundel Inn, Kennebunkport

“It is easy to be in a place like this and want to cook the best of what we have to offer. We have the world’s best seafood here in Maine and we have so many fisherman and farmers out our back door and many here in the Kennebunks. I have always liked to take full advantage of that in my food,” said Gignac as he took in the view.

Gignac was the chef and owner of the venerated 98 Provence on Shore Road in Ogunquit. The long-established French restaurant sold in 2012 and permanently closed its doors this past autumn. Gignac had historically been both an advocate and marketing resource for local food producers. Farmers across the seacoast knew that he had a deft touch with their products and 98 Provence was their platform.

“At 98 Provence, we made food that people loved and felt connected to. I was able to bring classic French techniques to the kitchen and expose people to great locally produced ingredients,” said Gignac. “We worked with so many people over the years and had many great relationships. I helped customers taste the foods that Mainers were producing.”

Wooden ducks grace the sills at the Cape Arundel Inn.

George Carpenter, a long-time farmer and collaborator of Gignac’s, explained the impact that a chef like Gignac has on the food industry: “For years, farmers in Maine have grown things like giant cucumbers and tomatoes. They grew whatever they wanted not knowing if it would sell. It was always a gamble. Fine cooks could not use those types of things. With chefs like Pierre, I learned to go back to the farmers and suggest that they grow produce like arugula, herbs and rocket.”

Now chefs have specialty ingredients that are grown close to home: profitable for both the producers and cooks.

Carpenter co-taught with Chef Gignac at the Stonewall Kitchen Cooking School in York and is the owner of Farm2Chef, a local food-to-restaurant brokerage that provides chefs like Gignac with fresh custom produce like specialty greens, mushrooms and cheeses.

The reciprocity in which farmer and chef teach and communicate with one another makes an impression that reaches beyond the restaurant dining experience. Diners who taste unique ingredients then in turn, ask for these ingredients at their local farmer’s markets and then try their hands at growing the produce themselves.

“Ten years ago, very few people grew their own heirloom produce. And now it seems everyone has an heirloom plant in the garden. It has a trickle down effect,” said Gignac.

The iconic sign remains as updates were made to the interior of the Inn.

After 98 Provence’s closure, Gignac’s students (he was both a private chef and instructor), along with his suppliers and devoted customers, awaited the day when a new culinary venture would present itself.  His expertise led to a trusting relationship, both with his customers in the creation of masterful food, and with his producers to communicate his supply needs.

Good news arrived for all parties when Gignac took the helm at the Cape Arundel.

“I have been given carte-blanche to create the kind of meals that I would want to eat.  I will use more Asian and Italian influences on Maine produce and seafood. It is more than I have ever done before,” said Gignac. “I will find what is available here in Kennebunkport, talk to farmers and fishermen and see what I can create. I know what combinations taste good and I like to introduce guests to that experience. I am looking forward to it,” said Gignac.

Ocean at the Cape Arundel Inn is now open Wed-Mon through the Christmas Prelude season.  The restaurant is home to a newly built bar, complete with a tapas menu and custom-crafted cocktails.   Dinner will be served nightly. www.capearundelinn.com, 28 Ocean Avenue, Kennebunkport, Me 04046. Tel: 207-967-2125.

Chef Pierre takes a break on the sweeping front steps of the Cape Arundel Inn, Kennebunkport

Kristin Fuhrmann Simmons is a writer, blogger and pastry chef.  She lives on the seacoast with her family and spends most of her time cooking, eating and thinking about her next meal.

The Rice Krispie Treat Bar at the Buffet. Yes, there is a higher power

Breakfast with the Disney characters is a requisite for most families who visit Walt Disney World in Florida.

Character Breakfasts, as they are commonly called, have sat very low on the culinary ladder in my mind.  The food has always been standard fare: an omelet station flanked by chafing dishes filled with overdone pancakes and breakfast meats.  It is something you do, “for the kids”, forgoing any hopes of gourmet food or short order value, by holding on to some semblance of your childhood remembrances of coming face-to-face with the mouse-in-the-red-suit.

When I was a child in the 1970′s, my family and I went frequently to these meals on our trips to the Magic Kingdom. I don’t remember the flavor of the food itself -usually a plate piled with clockface settings of powdered eggs and underdone sausages, overlapped by the ticking hands of dry bacon. Food was never the centerpiece of the experience.  I shyly but excitedly greeted the likes to Mickey, Donald and Tigger, feeling the soft fuzziness of their costumes as they pulled me in for a light, congenial hug. I did not care about the food: I wanted to be near my animal friends and touch the characters that I had read and dreamed about.

I entered this trip to Disney with a level of resignation about the food, sure that I would be paying for the face-time alone.  I wanted my own girls to share in a “bit of the magic” at a character breakfast, this time with Alice, the Mad Hatter, Tigger and Pooh.

Marge tells Alice, “Its my 75th birthday- that 3 quarters of a century!” Alice replies with her sweet faux-British accent, “I cahnt imagine what is is to be 1 quahrter of a century, let alone three.”
Just wait my dear.

1900 Park Fare proved me wrong.

Located on the ground floor at WDW’s Grand Floridian, the restaurant is open to transients and hotels guests alike.

I have to premise the description of the buffet, owing to the copious amount that I consumed.  It was of course, the day after running 13.1 miles in the Disney half-marathon.  I (and thousands of other runners) chowed down on every calorie-laden buffet the park had to offer.

Confession: I say this knowing that marathon or no marathon, I WOULD have eaten as much as I could.

1900 Park Fare was worth it.

I stared with a homemade bagel (there were three varieties available) toasted and topped with house made chive schmear, lox, thinly sliced red onion and ruby red tomatoes.  I moved on to the fluffy biscuits and sausage gravy that was seasoned ever so carefully with a black and white pepper to contrast the heavy creaminess of the dish.  I piled a bowl high with fresh pineapple, strawberries and cantalope, and went back for a bowl of the restaurant’s signature dish: Strawberry Soup.

The refreshing smoothie-like consistency of the soup tempered my fat-laden, ill-conscience.

Piles of quickbreads and muffins, all made at the hotel, anchored the buffet. I skipped over them and opted for the hot sticky buns. They were so short and flaky, that the rest of my family party jumped up quickly to grab one before they were gone. There was the requisite omelet station, piled with every filling imgainable. The omelets I noticed were cooked properly, with a slight runny center.  A carved baked ham joined the mix and was juicy and sweet.

The Children’s Buffet was complete with all of the adult fixings, punctuated by the crispy light Mickey Mouse-shaped waffles and mouse-head shaped plates.  The crown jewel of the morning was the Rice Krispie Treat bar, packed with treats and candy toppings.  I loved the whimsy – my husband and girls loved being able to eat their favorite desset for breakfast.

The chararcters made rounds to each table, so we did not miss a thing.  Everyone from Alice and the Mad Hatter to Mary Poppins asked after us, with Mary making sure we were using, “our best manners.” I can account that even with a plate full of food and after licking my lips, I did have my napkin in my lap and was chewing with my mouth closed.

Reservations are required. (I made ours 3 months in advance and got a 9:20 am seating for a party of six.) I recommend calling as soon as you book your vacation. Call 1-800-WDW-INFO to book.

Read our Tripadvisor Review here: 1900 Park Fare

Kristin Fuhrmann Simmons 1/23/2013

Related articles

• Which Disney Character Meal Is Right For Me? (chipandco.com)
• Top 10 Disney World Rides You Must Do Each Visit! (chipandco.com)

“Buongiorno Signorina!” the policeman said flirtatiously, as he tipped his hat to me.  I sped by avoiding eye contact.  The clickety-clacking sound of my well heeled leather shoes, connected harmoniously with the freshly washed cobblestones of the Piazza San Giovanni in Florence, Italy.  An elephant ear palmier in one hand, my newspaper and paint brush scroll in the other, I walked from my morning pastry shop, Da Scudieri, across the square to the front of the Duomo. I headed on to the side street that lead me to my art studio. My scarf was bunched in a fashionably self-conscious way around my neck, tucked underneath my tweed waistcoat.  I had not a hair out of place; the influence of distinctively dressed Italians pervaded my senses.  I did everything I could then, to imitate and flatter.

Today, I am standing in my kitchen, dressed in a pair of hole-filled yoga pants and an oversized sweater.  Its 6:43 am and I have been up for 2 hours, drinking what could best be described more as hot brown water than coffee. My comfy slippers glide across the floor in a slow rhythmic scuff, more than a clickety-clack.  I am ready less for impressing, than I am to get my family off to school and work.  The view outside my window is snowy and gray. I decide to switch beverage gears and reach into my secret stash of espresso that I have been saving for the holidays. I pull out my small coffee press and whip up an earthy cup of brew that I turn into a macchiato.

The place of my life has changed.

Andrea, in her melodious Italian-speaker-of-English- accent, asked “Where do you think you will be in 20 years?” I worried, not letting myself see further than the block of Florentine palaces out the window, nor further than the row of clubs and bars down the brick alleyway next to our studio.  “I don’t know,” I said, juggling my rolled canvases as I unpacked my paints.  I felt the pressure then to be a ‘dolce-vita’-loving,  ‘in-the-now’ person.  

That feeling mixed with the genuine concern of uncertainty. How could I ever want to leave all of this? This landscape and language?  These people?  These feelings?

I set up my newly gessoed panel and Andrea came across with a swath of black paint and wrote,” HA! ” on the white background. I quickly buried it, painting a rough outline of the sensuous fruit still-life composed on the table before me.

Little did I know.

Overripe apples and veggies stand stacked on my counter ready for prepping.  I pack lunches with an ease that is as automatic as tying my shoes. It takes less than 5 minutes to dress the bread with mayonnaise and turkey, chop carrot sticks, arrange raisins in artful faces on peanut butter, write love notes with sketches of cats, xo’s and hearts, and tuck away fruit slices into three separate bags. My speed astounds me and I smile a little.  It is still grey outside and the snow is getting heavier.

I walk past my Italian still-life this morning, my good coffee in hand, remembering the bright day in Florence and Andrea’s smug and foreboding question. My clothes and their decidedly different composure, call into contrast the time when I lived to satisfy my romantic designs.  I climb the steps to wake my daughters, passing the colorful canvas and its swoops of flowers and fruit.

I ask myself often how the landscapes I have visited remember me, when I carry them with me so poignantly.   I am years away, (18 to be exact), from that day in Florence.  It feels so real and recent, much the same way that yesterday’s parent-teacher conference, or dinner and errands, feel current and important.

I ascend the steps to the second floor, planning my wake-up pounce.  My daughters are already awake and in the bathroom brushing their teeth. I see them in the bright light contrasted against the cold tones of the window behind them.  “Good Morning Mama!” they say in unison. “Buongiorno!” I say easily.  They smile and I pause to capture it.

Kristin Fuhrmann-Simmons

Related articles

• Communication through human connection (everydayambassador.org)

Canada- America’s Really Cool Attic! Photos and text by Jessica Elsemore

Have you ever ventured to that rickety, dusty, cobweb-ridden third floor on a mission to locate that missing appliance, only to find yourself rummaging through boxes of old photographs, heirloom art, and childhood cock-eyes?

On a recent family trip (grandparents and all) to the Maritimes of Canada, we rediscovered what an adventure awaited us upstairs.
We started our caravan north armed and loaded with diapers, baby food, gifts of Californian wine and local Stonewall Kitchen (www.stonewallkitchen.com) pantry items. And we cannot forget the one saving grace for our first five hour leg of the trip: ELMO!

I was never a huge fan of seeing children glued to the back of the headrests of their parent’s sedans watching the latest Disney blockbuster on the summer vacation destination. (Long gone the days of cramming the kids into the Wagon Queen Family Truckster singing their way to Wally World) But until my dear sister suggested I bring this god-sent little black box and attach it to my headrest, I had no idea how listening to pre-school aged songs would bring muscial silence to my ears and peace to our long ride.

We had a one-night layover in Fredericton NB that resulted is one of the most delicate and decadent crepes to ever touch my tongue. The dripping butter, the cocoa and hazelnut rich Nutella, (www.nutellausa.com) and the sweet and tart strawberries left me wanting just one more bite. For those who have never had the sweet pleasure of experiencing a crepe, they are very thin pancakes usually made of wheat flour. Because of the French influence in Quebec and New Brunswick, you can find many restaurants and stands serving crepes throughout the provinces.

They can be filled with almost anything such as sugar and butter or as rich as lobster and Hollandaise sauce. And thanks to a little franchise called Cora’s, (www.chezcora.com) we had to opportunity to taste several varieties before we reloaded and drove four and half more hours to our next destination; The 3rd generation Harris Family Farm on Prince Edward Island. Prior to 1997, we would have had to load onto a ferry to reach the next providence. But with the building of the Confederation Bridge linking Prince Edward Island to New Brunswick, we were able to continue on driving over the 8-mile stretch surrounded by the serenity of the Northumberland Straight.

We were greeted at the farm with open arms.  I’ve heard people say that many Canadians are a very kind, friendly, and welcoming. In regards to the Harris Family that was an understatement. After sitting down to a dinner of grilled pork, steaming lobsters, potato salad, warm buttermilk biscuits, and farm fresh butter, we squeezed into the barn gear to milk the cows. This was no single stall with a few Bessies and a milkmaid. There were rows of cows as far as the eye could see. Each cow chomped away at the hay, as barn kitties weaved without fear between their legs. Mr. Harris gave us each a turn attaching the milking devices to the cows’ utters. Of course we could resist squirting each other.

The following morning we were not awakened by rooster as you would expect,  but instead by the smell of ham frying in a pan. I don’t care if you are a vegetarian, a vegan, or even a fruitarian, (Yup that a real thing) nothing is better than a pork product sizzling in the morning…this was obviously followed by eggs, more biscuits, fried potatoes, toast, and plenty of cream for our coffee.

We left the beautiful north western side of O’Leary and reached our final destination in Charlottetown. Our family checked into Canada’s oldest Family operated Inn and a national Historic site. Shaw’s Hotel (www.shawshotel.ca) and cottages are a perfect family destination. We rented a two-bedroom cottage just steps away from the red sands of PEI. The cottages were more like small homes with all the conveniences. Each morning a plastic tub filled with fresh towels and the morning paper, arrived at our doorstep. Every afternoon our kitchen was cleaned, the soot from the fireplace was removed and replaced with crumpled newspaper and kindling just waiting for a match. There were playgrounds for little kids and bike rentals for the young and young-at-heart. Just 15 minutes away, huge suburban grocery stores offered you anything and everything you would need.

The city of Charlottetown is a proud metropolis with universities, flea markets, farmers’ markets, cultural centers, Celtic influenced and English pubs, and a restaurant where my husband claims has the best burger he has ever eaten. Sims Corner Steakhouse and Oyster Bar (www.simscorner.ca) is where we experienced two incredible moments. The best burger we ever ate was consumed, and after a 10 minute lecture on the pleasure of eating oysters, we witnessed my father eat his first, and maybe not his last, oyster in 30 years. We tried four different oysters from the corners of the island; each of them tasting different, similar to the different regions of wine country. Our waitress was kind enough to give us the chef’s business card and informed us that if we write to him, he would send us the recipe. The only difficult ingredient to get would be the all-island beef. I suppose NY beef will have to suffice.

We didn’t make it to the famous Anne of Green Gables Homestead; however we did make it to the famous AGG Chocolate Shop. I would highly recommend the dark chocolate bark with almonds.
We departed the Island the same way we came but not without stopping pick up a few cow chips to eat on the way home (www.peiflavours.ca)

Jessica Dominguez Elsemore   www.jelsemorephotography.com

I took a step back on the lawn and admired the twinkle lights and campfire. The sun had set, and evening was in full swing. The grass was cool under my feet and the cool, sweet wine in my glass refreshed me. The tent was full of my friends and family, dancing to a mix of Latin merengue and Parisian jazz. It was a beautiful night: a conflation of dreams and planning that created the perfect farm-to-fork party.

Summer’s end is a great time to throw a locavore potluck. The summer’s produce is at its peak and the weather makes for cool, star-filled evenings. We had dreamed of long tables dressed in white linens and topped with candles and Ball jars overflowing with herbs and flowers. We wanted to share this kind of celebration with our friends — eating, drinking and reveling in the season.

With a bit of planning and cooperation, you can do it, too.

Planning a party can be easy. Costs can be kept to a minimum and enjoyment can be at its maximum. Here are tips that helped make our party a success:

On set-up and decoration: Get help from your friends, and when they say, “Can I do anything to help?” you must say, “Yes!” We all too often retort, “Oh, I’m all set!” and then make ourselves nuts with the minutiae that invariably pop up. Set-up and clean-up can drain the life out of any host. Grab your friends and make it fun. We wanted arrangements from our garden, so we saved glass jars for a rustic farm look and our friend filled the large ones with moss and tealights.

My friend Karen and her husband Casey cut birch branches, and through the magic of their creative skill, we had custom terrarium table settings. We researched the cost of renting tables and chairs and asked friends if they had spares to contribute. We ended up with a free buffet and banquet table, linens, lights and an extra firepit. Mix-and-match candles looked great mingled with the birch and Ball jar decorations.

On menu planning: Use the one-third rule. The prospect of cooking for a large crowd can be daunting. When asking guests to prepare a dish, you will inevitably hear, “How many should I cook for?” The equation for a potluck is easy: divide your guest count into three, asking party-goers to bring a dish catered to that number. We had 42 guests, so I asked each person to bring a dish for roughly 14 people. Cooking for a third of the final headcount is a lot easier than cooking for the whole crowd. This is daunting, and you would end up with copious amounts of leftovers. We were thankfully left with three sausages and a small container of baked beans. We decided to make the center dish and went with a cooked turkey and local sausages. Turkey is easy to cook and an inexpensive way to please a crowd. Basted with herbs and butter, the flavor can be perfect for the summer. Guests then brought the veggies and appetizers, and showed off their cooking skills as well. A string bean salad with cherry tomatoes and feta stood side-by-side with a fresh tuna nicoise and antipasto with mozzarella. We also asked guests to BYOB, cutting down on the cost for wine and beer.

The celebration was fantastic, and each person was not only a guest, but also an invested part of the success of the party.

Related articles

• Frugal Party Planning – Let’s Party! (canadianbudgetbinder.com)
• Summer Guest Writer Series: I don’t cook for my family anymore (hercircleezine.com)

“Sweet Cheeks.  Honey Buns.  Lookin’ a little swollen on the backside?”

Funny. I get it. No really, I do.
Recently, I was able to get a babysitter, run a few errands, and sit down for lunch.   It was a gorgeous afternoon so I went into our local fresh foods market and got a cup of butternut squash and apple soup. With the store’s patio basking in the sun of the afternoon I decided to take full advantage of the low humidity and soak up a peaceful 20 minutes… solo.

I couldn’t believe I had the entire area to myself. Buzz. I chose a table about five feet away from a glass wall that divided me from the dozen or so air condition-breathing, Sirius radio-listening, fluorescent light-enjoying patrons hovering over their grocery store sushi, foil-panned salads, and organic coffees. Nothing against grocery store sushi or salads in foil pans, but with this incredible late-summer weather I decided to eat al fresco.

I took…buzz…a deep relaxing breath and began to dine. Buzz. Swat!

Ok, who brought the annoying lunch…buzz… guest? Bothersome, a nuisance, and persistent, this yellow jacket wanted my soup as much as I did.  Swat! I moved to the next table to avoid the unending air raid as I was determined to enjoy my lunch in peace…buzz….if only for a moment. Swat! Buzz…and I pulled out my chair to sit…doooowwwwn… YOWZER!!!
Curse words immediately erupted from my tightly pursed lips. A concentrated piercing burn penetrated the crease where my thigh met my keister.

“Imagine W.C. Fields extinguishing a cigar on your tongue”, writes Justin Schmidt, an etymologist at the Carl Hayen Bee Research Center in Arizona, except this pain wasn’t on my tongue. Schmidt, creator of the Schmidt Pain Index, a pain scale rating the relative pain caused by different hymenoptera, says the pain associated from a yellow jacket sting rates 2.0 out of 4.0; about twice as much pain as a bite from a fire ant, but not the full, intense, brilliant pain from a bullet ant (4.0). I became acutely aware of my grocery store audience on the other side of the glass wall, and tried to keep from flailing about. I staggered inside, hoping not to draw attention to my throbbing derriere, and out of desperation purchased a $10.99 homeopathic salve designed to calm stings. This ridiculously priced, miniature chapstick-like product inspired me to search out other, less expensive, ways of easing the pain in my tush. I hope you never are in the unfortunate position to test the efficacy of these suggestions; however should your duff come in contact with the rear end of an apocrita you will be well prepared!

Please, have common sense. If you are allergic or experience any allergic symptoms such as tightening of the throat, difficulty breathing, dizziness, rapid swelling of the eyes, lips, tongue or throat, or itching, seek immediate medical attention.
#1: According to a physician near and dear to my heart (my husband), make a slush of ice and baking soda. The ice will help numb the area as well as minimize swelling. The alkalinity of the baking soda will neutralize the acidity of the sting venom and help with pain.
#2: Make a paste of meat tenderizer and water or baking soda and water–apply to bite.
#3: Cover with honey and reapply as needed for pain.
#4: Dab with a generous amount of toothpaste and leave on the wound.
#5: Soak in Epsom salt and water or make paste and apply.
# 6: Apply Aloe Vera.
#7: Chew a plantain leaf then apply then apply to the bite/sting.
#8: Crush fresh parsley and/or basil and apply to wound.
#9: Apply a slice of fresh papaya.
#10: Dab on a bit of deodorant.
In case you were wondering, I survived with no excess swelling. My lunch was ruined; however I managed to cook up my own version of Butternut Squash and Apple soup and ate it at home… inside.
Butternut Squash and Apple Soup
1 large butternut squash
1/2 cup orange juice
1/3 cup brown sugar
1 cinnamon stick
1 leek, sliced
1/2 cup chopped onion
1 apple, peeled, cored, and chopped
4 cups chicken stock
1/3 cup cream, optional
Garnish: finely chopped butternut squash soup and olive oil OR dollop of creme fraiche/sour cream
Peel and cut the squash into pieces, mix with orange juice, brown sugar and broken cinnamon stick. If desired, reserve some uncooked squash and dice for garnish. Put on a baking sheet lined with tin foil and cover. Bake at 400 until soft.
Sautee the leek, onion, and apple in a little butter until soft, not browned.
Pour off any juice from squash and reserve. Add the squash to the leek/onion mixture, along with chicken stock. Simmer for a few minutes and then remove cinnamon stick. Puree the mixture in batches in a food processor, blender, or immersion blender. Add cream.
Sautee reserved diced squash in olive oil until tender. Add reserved juice from baked squash and stir. Use for garnish.

Becky Sacchetti of the Inn Keepers Daughters

Related articles

• Fall Recipes: Butternut Squash, Apple and Sage Soup (pinecountryfeed.wordpress.com)
• vegan fall vegetable stew with black beans and barley (backtoherroots.com)
• Easy Banana Butternut Squash Soup Recipe (chiquitabananas.com)
• Butternut Squash and White Bean Soup Recipe. (lusaorganics.typepad.com)
• Caramelized Onion & Butternut Squash Lasagna Pie (thesmartcookiecook.com)
• 9 Savory Soups That Make Perfect Freezer Meals for Fall (wisebread.com)
• My version of Butternut Squash Soup (badashcrafts.com)
• Preparing and Storing Winter Squash (clarksvilleonline.com)
• Apple, Coconut, Roasted Butternut Squash soup coming right up Miles Storm! (willybmum.com)
• Baked Butternut Squash Samosas (zabars.typepad.com)

My family and I decided to dine at a newly opened restaurant, where I had recently interviewed the chef. He was somewhat-of-a-kind man, clearly challenged when it came to articulation. He could not clearly outline what the “vision” of his “vision for the restaurant” was about. He walked that line between sweet, ridiculously creative talent, and snobbish egomaniac.  More on obtuse chefs and how they need coaching to talk to the press at a later date.

Our plans in eating there included the intention of figuring out exactly what the definition of the place included – the public billing was “a farm-to-fork woodland retreat, helmed by a lauded chef.”   The cuisine was excellent, the prices- astronomical. It was the type of meal that when you are already in knee-deep with your food bill, a $12 glass of dessert wine just adds to the “Will we be able to pay the mortgage?” after-dinner amusement.

Now, I love the Hungarian dessert wine called Tokaji, pronounced like “toe” and “kie” – like “pie” with a letter ‘K’. I was introduced to it while traveling in Europe and a dear restaurateur friend  of mine would squirrel away bottles for me on her trips to New York and Hungary.  To qualify, I am by no means an expert but I do know this wine.

I saw it on the dessert menu and decided to order a glass.

I asked our waiter, who looked like the definition of post-teenage depression, “What number puttonyos is the Tokaji?” Puttonyos accounts for the amount of sweetness in the wine, graded from 3-6, with 6 being the sweetest.

He looked at me incredulously.

Tokaji (Photo credit: James_B_UK)

“Tokaji is NOT graded.” he said firmly.

“Yes it is.” I said.

He retorted, “Well we carry the good variety and it is NOT graded.  I have NEVER heard of such a thing.”

Now, I know better to never judge expertise.  For all I know, he could be Hungarian, and his family may own a Tokaji vineyard.  I could have been in a haze every time I had sipped this sweet wine in the past and been seriously mistaken.  However, I knew this little shit was wrong – the tension was thick and my husband, knowing my temper and “never back down from a food fight” attitude, looked down at the table, smiled and bit his knuckle.  My girls just started to laugh.  They knew what this kid was in for.

“Fine.” I said acerbically, “ I would love a glass of your ‘good variety’ Tokaji!”  I got up and went to the bathroom.

When I sat back down, Mark was laughing. “Wait until you see what he brought for you!”  The waiter had gotten out his copy of “Wine for Dummies” opened it to the 2 sentence blurb on Tokaji and set my glass on top of the page to mark the passage.

You can fill in-the-blank with synonyms you know for exasperation.

This kid must have sensed that he was in for a fight and preempted any argument by providing me with the be-all end-all source of his defense: the patented yellow and black dummy primer. This gave him his mail-order sommelier license, ergo his authority in the world of wine.

I knew at that moment that this would make better fodder for a life story, than it would if I complained and went crazy. “This is a first!” I said calmly to my family – a first that I backed down and a first in seeing this kind of wait staff behavior.

Our waiter got the better part of my manners that night. I drank the wine, said nothing immediately, and we got up to leave with the intention of never returning unless someone else way paying.

Upon exiting, I gave the book back and told the waiter, “This is an education.” He looked smugly at me. He had no idea what I meant.

Kristin Fuhrmann Simmons

Related articles

• El Bulli cellar to be sold at auction (esperanzavino.wordpress.com)

“More cucumber please and a little bit of the croutons.” I looked sheepishly and excitedly up at our waiter.   An ice cold bowl of tomato gazpacho had been placed before me.  I was filled with both a salivating hunger and the self-conscious desire of a child who had newly come into a food self possession: I knew what I liked and gazpacho with lots fresh toppings was the star of my list.

Gazpacho was introduced to me by my parents at a Spanish restaurant in Baltimore called Tio Pepe’s.  Tio Pepe’s was known as the “pinnacle” of fine food and gourmet cutting edge cuisine in the 1960’s and 1970’s.  Still a special occasion powerhouse, the restaurant showcases the classic cuisine of Spain.  Gazpacho is their classic starter soup and I fell in love with the zesty cool combination of flavors at a tender age.

It is the perfect way to use tomatoes at the height of the season.  The soup requires no at-the-stove cooking and is served cold, keeping your preparation time down and the heat off in your kitchen.

Gazpacho is to Spain as the hamburger is to the US: a ubiquitous dish with as many manifestations as their are families.  Thought to have originated as a means to use stale bread,  garlic, tomatoes and crusts of a week-old loaf were traditionally mixed in a mortar and pestle.  Gazpacho is has become a great “kitchen sink” soup.  By using tomatoes as the base ingredient, you can experiment with adding your garden’s ripest veggies. Sweet and hot peppers, added with cucumber, make for interesting textures and flavors.

Ingredients

• 1 English cucumber, halved and seeded, but not peeled
• 2 red bell peppers, cored and seeded and roughly chopped
• 8 large tomatoes – no need to skin them just wash, core, and rough chop
• 1 red onion, roughly chopped
• 3 garlic cloves, minced
• 1/4 cup balsamic or apple cider vinegar
• 1/4 cup olive oil
• 1/2 tablespoon sea salt
• 1 teaspoons black pepper
• 1 tsp hot sauce – I like Cholula for this preparation
• OPTIONAL: Add in one of your garden’s hot peppers like a serrano, poblano, or habanero.  Add in with garlic

Directions

Roughly chop the veggies and put them in batches into high powered blender or food processor fitted with a steel blade and pulse until it is coarsely chopped.If you use a blender, add some of the vinegar and olive oil to help puree the veggies.
Combine them in a large bowl and add the garlic, vinegar, olive oil, salt, hot sauce and pepper. Mix well and chill before serving. This is best served the next day.  Serve with a small swirl of best quality extra virgin olive oil and pass around chopped cucumber to top the soup.  This makes a great meal with a crusty bread.

Originally posted in DOW JONES/SMG 2012

Photo by the Lovely Jessica Elsemore – Soup by Jesse Schenker of Recette in NYC. ( If you look closely, you can see Jessica and I in the spoon.)
by Kristin Fuhrmann Simmons

Related articles

• Gazpacho Andaluz (putneyfarm.com)
• Gazpacho al Estilo de Patricia (hungrysofia.com)
• Gazpacho (andreasgardencooking.com)
• Gazpacho (picturerealfood.com)
• It’s Cold Soup Time! Our Recipe for Gazpacho Andaluz (organicauthority.com)
• Spicy Gazpacho (karistaskitchen.com)

I  get so stimulated by all the beautiful color and shapes that I often tend to over-buy.

Instead of Saturday morning’s purchases being my muse for Sunday dinner, I  end up housing a fruit fly colony on my kitchen counter. However, with my recent discovery of the canning process, my farmer’s market finds are no longer sacrificed to the insect family. Instead, my pantry is now lined with the bounties of summer and fall, all year long.

Cucumbers (specifically, Gherkins) gathered for pickling. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The discovery of the canning process was actually the result of a contest administered by French military to anyone who could develop a new method to store food for longer periods of time. In 1806, Frenchman Nicolas Appert was awarded 12,000 francs by heating food and its containers to 212 degrees Fahrenheit to kill the microorganism that can cause spoilage.
With many thanks to modern refrigeration, we no longer rely on canned foods to get us through long winters. But it can be fun, economical, and a great way to make gifts for neighbors, coworkers, and friends.

For some, it can turn into a multimillion dollar household name like Stonewall Kitchen.(www.stonewallkitchen.com) Founders Jonathan King and Jim Stott started making jam and selling it at local farmer’s markets over 20 years ago. Now their marinades, grill sauces, salad dressings, syrups and dessert sauces as well as over 20 types of  jams are sold all over the world.

If you’re not quite ready to go global, start your first canning experience with a recipe that is high in acid such as fruits, jellies, jams, or pickles.

My mother’s bread and butter pickle recipe is always a hit this time of year. Pickling cucumbers are at abundance in both the supermarkets and farmer’s markets. Pick up about 10 pickling cucumbers and canning starter set such as Ball. You can find the kit in most grocery stores and hardware stores. You can also find them at (www.freshpreservingstore.com).  This is also a great place for tips, videos, and recipes.

Jean’s Bread and Butter Pickles

8  Four- inch pickling cucumbers
6 medium thinly sliced onions
¾ c salt
5 c cider vinegar
6 c sugar
1tsp turmeric
½ c mustard seed
1Tbl celery seed
¼ tsp (scant) cayenne pepper

Wash the cucumbers well and cut off both ends. Slice cucumbers ½ inch thick. Slice onions thin. If you have a mandolin this works well. Place onions and cucumbers in a large bowl and sprinkle with salt. Stir well. Allow to stand for about 3-6 hours. Drain well and rinse well in cold water. Drain well again. If the cucumbers are extremely salty, cover with water to rinse and drain well again. Prepare 7 to 9 quart pickling jars by washing them with hot soapy water, rinsing, and placing them upside down on the oven rack in a 250 degree oven for 20-25 minutes. Wash lids in hot soapy water, rinse, and then leave them in clean water. Bring the remaining ingredients to a boil in a large kettle. Add cucumbers and onions and allow them to come to just a simmer while stirring. Do not allow them to come to a boil or the pickles will become mushy. Fill hot jars with pickles, and add juice to within ¼ inch of the top. Wipe the top of the jar and seal the jars on a wooden board to cool. When cooled, test the seal by pushing down on the top. If the lid stays depressed it is well sealed.  If any jars don’t stay depressed, they should be stored in the refrigerator. They well sealed jars can be rinsed and stored in a cool place.

These pickles taste great with grilled cheese and summer tomato sandwiches.

by Jessica Elsemore,   www.jelsemorephotography.com

Related articles

• A Quick Guide to Quick Pickles (wholefoodsmarket.com)
• Fast, easy pickles (fruitcenter.typepad.com)
• Pickling (glutenfreesc.wordpress.com)
• In a pickled state these days (lydiastreet.com)
• Homemade Pickles! (504main.com)
• Peter Piper Picked a Peck of Pickled Cucumbers (thegardendiaries.wordpress.com)
• a walk in the vegetable garden (hippiedog.typepad.com)
• Recipe of the Day: Pickled Ginger Cucumbers (news.health.com)