Thursday, October 14, 2010

From Quince to Shark: fish poached in flavored oil

When I was a kid (I seem to be saying that a lot these days, don't I?), there was a word game that would appear in the papers every now and then. You would start with one word, and have to get to a final word, by changing one letter in the word, each round, but still getting a word that made sense. You could go, for example, from cart, to care, to pare to pore to pope. I don't see that game happening anymore, for who knows what reason.

I bring that up because I don't want anyone to assume that we're going from quince to shark in that way. No, we're not going to do anything that difficult.

During our most recent trip to San Francisco, we ate at the restaurant called Quince for the first time. It was the first time we had been able to get a reservation. It was a wonderful experience, and I'm going to get to the food in a minute, but first, tell a story that may amuse you.

You know how restaurant websites frequently have information on how to dress? Well, as a general rule, Guy and I ignore that information. We dress in business casual for most restaurants, unless we know the place very well, and we know that it's casual. It has to be both. So, while we know Telepan very well, we would never wear jeans there. So when the website for Quince said "Jacket preferred," we laughed. We have not worn jackets to a restaurant in San Francisco (where we've seen people wear jeans in restaurants with a three figure prix fixe) in years.

Uh, we should have done it here. When you walk into a restaurant and the busboys are wearing navy blue suits, white shirts, and rep ties, that's a good sign that you should have taken the information seriously. Still, we were by far not the most casually dressed people there that night, and no one made an issue of our attire. The service and the food were impeccable, and the busboys , servers and staff were all very handsome.

Now to the food. Quince's menu understates things. There is very little information about how the food is prepared, so there is a surprise when it comes out. Guy had halibut (as a general rule, if he's not eating calamari, Guy is eating halibut). It was such silky, luxurious tasting fish, that I asked "was this done sous vide?" My response was "No, it was poached in flavored oil. "

Hmmm. Well... when we got home, it was the first thing I tried to duplicate. And it's easy. Time consuming, and wasteful, but easy.

In a very early blog, I taught you all how to make oil cured tuna confit. None of you made it , but that's okay. The technique here is fairly similar. You can use any firm white fish to do it. Halibut is basically the "go to " fish of the West Coast. It seems to always be in season. It was in season in the spring, when we were there, and it was in season in the fall. ATLANTIC halibut is a prohibited catch, however, as it has been overfished. So, you make your choice: eat locally, or buy halibut air shipped from the West Coast. I decided to go with the former. I was going to make it with cod.

Well, one of the things you learn with eating locally is that you sometimes have to substitute. When I went to the fish guy , no cod. I was, frankly, stunned. Cod is the East Coast's halibut: you can ALWAYS get it. Not that day. But he had something called "summer shark." I investigated. It was not an endangered species of shark, and while misnamed (it was already fall), it would suit: firm, and white and solid, like halibut. Inexpensive too. I brought my pound home with me, and got to work. Here's how I did it.

To see how much oil you're going to need, put the fish in a pan, in a single layer. Then, pour in oil until it covers the fish by about a quarter of an inch. Now, take the fish out. Leave the oil in, and add the peel of a lemon (no surgical precision here), a few branches of thyme, and about a dozen whole black peppercorns. Turn the heat to VERY low. You don't want to fry these ingredients. Let the thing cook away for about fifteen or even twenty minutes. If , during that time, you see even ONE bubble in the oil, lower the heat some more. After that time, drain the oil so that the solids are gone, and let it cool. You do need to let it cool, unfortunately. No time saver here.

When you're ready to cook, put the fish back in the pan and cover it with the oil. This time, add about a hefty teaspoon of salt. Bring the oil back up to temperature the way you did when you infused it, and let the fish cook for fifteen, or even twenty minutes. It's a very slow process, but it makes a very tasty final product. The flavors that have gotten into the oil, get into the fish, and the oil itself enriches a fish that is naturally very low in fat (the white fishes like cod, haddock, halibut, flounder, etc are all low in fat).

Take your fish out of the oil, let it drain a bit, and serve it forth.

The wastefulness comes from the fact that this oil , unfortunately, cannot be reused. If you have a cat, you might be able to get him or her to eat some of it, but it's not likely. So, don't use the most expensive olive oil you have. You should use extra virgin, and treat this as a bit of an extravagance, but if you're not going to spend money on your food, well, why are you reading this blog?

ENJOY

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Basquing in Mussels: Pickled mussel and bread salad

So, where do I start with the puns and internal references here? Hmmm. Well, of course, faithful readers of this blog know all about Annalena's not so new found work at the gym. So, we've got mussels/muscles, right? Being there every day, has one basking in them, yes?
Ok, it doesn't work real well. Ultimately, this is about a Basque dish that I ate during our trip to San Francisco this fall - our first in three years.
As a rule, if I'm writing about Basque food, we were in San Francisco, since I love Piperade the restaurant so much. I think I am in love with the contralto who has been their hostess for years, with Chef Hirigoyen (he's a looka, gang), our regular waiter, who is not so much a looker but has that European sense of charm and style that makes looks irrelevant (why can't Americans pull that off, by the way?). And then there's the food. Oh, the food.
When we were there this time, my eye was drawn to a pickled mussel salad. I had never had pickled mussels before, and when our waiter friend said "yes, it's good, you should have it," I did. And it was wonderful, even though it was based in large part on frisee, not one of my favorite things in the world. But I made it, from memory, and it was close. And I find, now, that I have the recipe in book form. So, we'll go back to it.
Mussels are a good thing. They are cheap. They are easy to prepare. You can find them all year round. Many cookbooks will tell you to scrub and "debeard" or "beard" them. This was in fact necessary when Annalena was a youngster, because mussels were usually taken wild. These days, they are pretty much all farmed, and this is irrelevant. If, however, you are of an outdoor nature and you find yourself a batch of wild mussels, you will need to pull those little "beards" off of the critters before you cook them. Since most of my readers, in fact all the ones I know, are not prone to foraging their own mussels, I leave this step out.
You need 3 pounds of them. Get a couple of tablespoons of olive oil heated up, and add your aromatics. In the recipe, the "aromatics" are simply a few tablespoons of shallot. I did it with onion, garlic, and fennel. Your choice. Saute' the aromatics in the oil, and then pour in the mussels. Cover the pot or pan (if it's big enough), and cover it tightly. Bring the pot to high heat, and then, after five minutes, take a look. They will begin to pop open, and probably will all open, or at least just about all of them. Pull out the mussels. Don't fret about the ones that don't open, just toss them, and if you like, drain the liquid and store it. Freeze it for when you make fish soup. Let these guys cool.

Meanwhile, make some croutons. Do this by cutting about 3 slices of good quality bread into small cubes. Toss them with a tablespoon of olive oil, and put them onto a baking sheet, and into a preheated oven at 350 for ten minutes. Let them cool too.

The astute amongst you will see that you can do these two steps simultaneously. Do it if you feel comfortable that way. After ten minutes of sitting, though, the mussels should be cool enough for you to pull them out of the shells. Toss the shells, and put the mussels into a bowl, together with a clove of garlic, minced, some more shallot if you only used shallots in the aromatics, or, perhaps some of the cooked aromatics if you were more ambitious. Also add about 1/4 cup of red wine vinegar (or, white wine vinegar, if you like), together with 1/3 cup of fruity tasting olive oil. Blend these all together.

Finally, take about 2-3 cups of fresh frisee (more on this in a variation below), and combine it with the mussels, together with the croutons. Toss everything together, and serve it forth.

When I made this myself, I cooked the frisee' down, just a bit, in the pot where I cooked the mussels. The wilted flavor of the greens reminded me of the French frisee and lardon salad, but you might prefer the fresher flavor. It really is up to you.

Turning back to the astute, who may have questions, of course if you want to substitute clams, go right ahead. I've already suggested variations within the recipe, and you could vary the greens, but I would stay away from the sweeter, softer lettuces. Maybe endive would be good. I may try that variation later in the year.

So, basque in this food yourself. It's a little bit different, and it's more than a little bit good.

One more inspired by Cookshop: lime vanilla ice cream

And also, in tribute to "the dirty bird," and chicky, you KNOW who you are.

Six days ago, Annalena turned the ripe old age of 53. I am somewhat amazed to be here because, diagnoses that were given to me in my twenties told me to plan on not being around past 35. Well, NYAH to all of you. And, having engaged in my current fitness craze, with the help of the amazing Emily (the trainer), and now Sebastian, the mad Paraguyan, I do in fact feel like I am in my 30s, but without the angst and anxiety of those days, and with whatever wisdom one acquires over that time. I'm not quite sure what that wisdom is, by the way. Maybe by the time I make it to 70, I'll know. In the meantime, one has to "keep on, keepin on," as Gladys and her Pips once sang.

You DID miss the digressions, didn't you? Well, they're going to keep going. See, one of the things that went "by the boards" once this fitness madness took over me, was my nightly bowl of ice cream. I almost never eat it these days. Do I miss it? Yes. But as I have recognized it as a "red light food" (you weight watchers alumni out there will know what I mean, and the rest of you can figure it out), I have had to cut it out. Annalena is not a chick who does things part way. So a bowl of ice cream inevitably becomes a pint, and then more. It's as simple as that. So the easiest thing to do is to just cut it out completely.

This does not mean that I have stopped making it. I may be crazy, but I'm not batty! I enjoy the process too much. And I like feeding my loved ones too much. So ice cream making continues.

There is always a period , just about now, when the summer fruit is just about gone. The peaches, the plums, the berries that were so abundant, have left us. We have grapes, pears and apples, locally, and tropicals. The citrus are not with us yet. I am a big fan of all of those local fruits, but grapes make terrible ice cream (and wonderful sorbet). Pears and apples make terrific TASTING ice cream, but texture (again, we're back to texture), turns people off, especially with pear. My apple ice cream is downright CHUNKY, and it can really disturb someone looking for something smooth. So I am always looking for new approaches and flavors for ice cream.

Now, the Dirty Bird, apprentice ice cream maker that he is, has gone in a direction of flavors that Annalena, old fashioned girl that she is, would not approach. This probably is at least partially related to our age difference (which I believe borders on 25 years). As DB tells me about his ice cream flavors, I'm waiting for the day when he jumps up and says "I MADE CABERNET BACON PRUNE TWIRL." And it will probably be good. And I will shake my head and ask myself "where DOES he come up with those ideas ?" And then I will settle down to...

Something like lime vanilla ice cream. Now, there are some connectives here. I met DB at Cookshop, what seems an eternity (and 50 pounds) ago. And it is at Cookshop where I had the inspiration for this ice cream. We ate there on my actual birthday. Now, however much of a health nut you are, if you are not going to have a treat on your birthday, well.... And by treat I am NOT talking about maple syrup flavored soy yogurt. The special dessert that night was a blackberry linzer tart with lime vanilla ice cream, prepared by the second Emily in my life, Emily the pastry chef (does it not seem like there's some dichotomy served up here? I know two women named Emily: one is a personal trainer, one is a pastry chef. I have never seen the two of them in the same place at the same time. Hmmmm).

Well, I sometimes have issues with Emily's desserts. I ordered this one with some trepidation. As a general rule, Annalena finds blackberry baked desserts disappointing. They never seem to capture that allusive and elusive flavor of blackberries. This cake was no exception. I was curious about the ice cream. It was , well, "ok," but not terrific. And I wanted it to be terrific. So, I decided to make some terrific lime vanilla ice cream. And I did. And you can too. Here's how I made mine.

You need two limes, and one and a half vanilla beans. Using a peeler, take the peel from the two limes. You don't have to worry about how long the strips are, just get the things peeled. Split the vanilla bean and the half bean horizontally, and scrape out the seeds. Put the seeds, the empty beans, and the lime peel in a pot, with two cups of heavy cream and ¾ cup of sugar. Bring this to a simmer, then take it off the heat, and let it sit. Come back after half an hour, and taste it. If you think it's strong enough, leave it alone for a bit longer. Always remember that a frozen dessert is not going to taste as strong as the dessert does in unfrozen form. You want this to taste somewhat stronger than how you would like it as ice cream. Keep in mind as well that you're going to dilute this too.

When you think it's at the right flavor strength, add a cup of whole milk, and six egg yolks. If you are timid about breaking up yolks in a milk bath, break them beforehand, by whipping them with a fork or a whisk. Bring the pot to gentle heat, and stir. You know the drill here: you want to bring the mix to 175 degrees. If you don't have a thermometer, SHAME ON YOU, and just use the coat the spoon test (you all remember that, don't you? You put a wooden spoon in the custard, and pull it out. Run your finger down the stuff on the spoon. If it separates without running back together, you're there.)

Ok, if you are doubting whether or not this will be strong enough tasting, leave all the stuff in the custard as it cools, and even as it refrigerates. If you are confident, strain it out. Whichever approach you use, let it chill in your 'fridge, and then get your ice cream maker working.

This will give you about a quart. To my taste, it's a vanilla with a spicy undertone that just barely reminds me of limes. You may feel differently, but it certainly tastes more of vanilla than of lime.

I may make this again, when the Citrus Bomb has her kefir limes ready. THAT may be something for the Dirty Bird to try. DB, keep after me once the citrus comes in. I think you'll have some fun with the kefirs.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

This one is REALLY easy: cauliflower with tahini

It's not a combination that immediately comes to mind, does it? Well, that's Cookshop for you, and a combination like this always reminds me how brilliant a good cook is.
Where did this combo come from? How many tries before they got it to work? All I can say is that this version, takes a vegetable about which I am sometimes indifferent, and leads me to order it as a side dish if it doesn't come with my dinner.
Cookshop serves this with fish: usually cod or some other thick white fish. That's how we had it. I think, though, that you could probably serve it with chicken or maybe even pork. I don't think I'd put it against the richer meats, because the flavor would be lost.
Cauliflower has a very odd texture which turns off a lot of people. So, too, does the smell if it's not cooked properly. But the smell is easy to take care of: cook it in a lot of salted water. The more water, the more the smell of the mustard gasses will disperse. Cauliflower IS a member of the cabbage family, so expect that aroma if you don't do it with lots of water. And also, try the yellow version if you can find it. It tastes the same as white cauliflower, but it just seems to taste better. What can I say? We DO eat with our eyes.

Ok, here we go. Get two medium sized heads of cauliflower and cut them down into big florets. Put them into a pot of salted, boiling water, and cook them for, maybe, 5-7 minutes. They will not be completely cooked, but that's ok, because you're going to cook them again.

Preheat the oven to 500 degrees. Start this after the vegetables have cooled down, and drained. And when the oven is at the right temperature, put the veggies into a bowl, and add a few tablespoons of olive oil. Turn the cauliflower in the oil to coat it, and then spread it out on a baking sheet. After about six minutes , check. The portions on the baking sheet should be brown, or even black. That's what you want. Turn the cauliflower, so that you can get more color on a second side. It won't take more than 4-5 minutes.

While the cauliflower is roasting, put about a quarter to a third of a cup of tahini into a bowl. Now, tahini comes in different thicknesses. If your tahini is very thick, you can actually add water to thin it. Just stir it well. Then put the roasted veggies in, turn them in the tahini, and add some salt if you feel it needs it.

This makes a LOT of vegetable, and that's a good thing, because this is real tasty. It's also vegan. Find a vegan friend, and share. He or she will love you for it.

Inspired by Cookshop: cabbage stuffed with duck confit

Cookshop is one of my favorite restaurants, EVER. The food is always beyond my expectations, and what is wonderful about the place, is that I always feel that I can make the dishes. The chef, Rob, is a sweetheart. He always stops to talk, and goes beyond that, even sharing his ingredients with me. He has "beta tested" recipes on me, and unfailingly, he's great. It's wonderful.

A week ago, we had a special at the restaurant: cabbage stuffed with rabbit rilettes. I thought I had gone to heaven, it was so good. And I immediately began thinking of variations and here's mine: savoy cabbage, stuffed with duck confit. This takes some time, but it's worth it, and it's really good. Let's take it, step by step.

Annalena does not make her own duck confit. She buys it from Ariane Daguin, one of the classiest ladies in the world. You will need three legs of duck confit, and sadly, you will not use the skin. Just tear it off of the legs, and use it to make cracklings, or something else. Then, shred the meat from the bones. Don't be a surgeon about it. The meat is already cooked, so you don't have to worry about doing that. Just shred it. Also, chop up about 2 cloves of garlic, and a few sprigs of thyme. Put about a tablespoon of olive oil in a pan (the duck is pretty rich), and add the duck meat, the garlic, and the thyme. Just warm it up. You want to soften the meat, and that won't take long.

When this has happened, put it all in a food processor and pulse it. Just chop it. Taste it, and add salt if you think you need to. You can put this aside, or make it a day ahead, however you like.

For the cabbage: a head of savoy cabbage, or any cabbage, is surrounded by 3-4 leaves that are big and tough. Tear them away, but don't throw them out. Get the first 9-12 leaves off of the head. You can just peel them away. It's easy. Save the core to make some salad.

Get a BIG pot of salted water to the boil, and add the cabbage leaves. Cook them for about five minutes, pull them out, and let them cool. Patience is really a good thing here.

When they're cool, cut the tough white base out of the leaves, so that you can roll them up. Now, the fun begins.

Get a glass or ceramic, 9x9 inch pan, and put some tomato sauce on the bottom. Take the leaves, one by one, and put a few tablespoons of the shredded confit (which are really "rilettes") into them and roll them. I do tuck the sides in to get a tight roll, but you don't have to. Put them in the pan as you go along, and just keep on going until you use up the confit. If, by some chance, you use up the leaves before you use up the confit, just sprinkle the confit over the rolls. Now cover them with sauce.

Ok, remember those tough leaves? Well.. they serve the role of aluminum foil. Just cover the pan with them, put the pan on a baking sheet, and then put this into a preheated oven, at 350, for 45 minutes.

And you are done. You can eat this right out of the oven, or let it cool and reheat it, however you like.

This will serve 3 people generously, or if you have a first course, two leaves are sufficient. As an appetizer, one is fine.

Go for it. And thank you, Cookshop.

When a recipe is wrong, and how to fix it: homemade potato chips

I have written before, about how few recipes are actually tested, and how this in turn, results in people thinking they cannot cook. After all, the recipe HAS to be right, right? If the recipe is in a revered cooking magazine, and was written by a revered chef, well... if you can't get it right?

Listen up folks. IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT. No, it's not. It frustrates me to no end when a recipe is written badly, or is incomplete, or is just plain, well, WRONG. Annalena is pretty handy in the kitchen. Yet, there are times when a recipe just cannot be made to work for her. Even chefs or cooks who are meticulous - I cite Ina Garten in this regard - have bloopers. They happen.

Some time ago, this happened with another recipe: one for homemade potato chips. Now, who could resist the idea, especially when the recipe calls for BAKING them instead of frying them? Potato chips, BAKED? In a good cooking magazine, by a great chef.

Before I made them, the first time, I read the reviews by other cooks. They were not uniformly positive. In fact they were more than a bit negative. (the website I found this on, has people review the recipes they make). I , in typical fashion, ignored them.

WRONG. There is a lot that is wrong with this recipe. A LOT wrong. But the principles are good, and you should make these.

Incidentally, do not fool yourself into thinking they are diet food. They're potato chips. They are fattening. They are not good for you. But they are GOOD. Proportion is all.

The ingredients are good. You need 2 potatoes, weighing in at about 3/4 of a pound (the recipe only says '2 medium yukon gold or idaho potatoes). You also need 3 tablespoons of oil. Yes, you need it all. Also, salt and pepper, or some other spices. Cayenne pepper, for example, or something like that. Start with just salt, though.

You start by preheating the oven to 400. While this is happening, peel and slice the potatoes REALLY thin. The recipe calls for 1/8 inch slices. You really do have to go close to that thickness, and if you don't have a mandoline, or a benriner, or something like that, you will need to get a sharp knife, and work SLOWLY. It wouldn't be a bad idea to take a measurement with a ruler or tape measure. Cut a slice 1/2 inch thick, and then think of cutting four slices of equal thickness from it . That's what you need.

Peel the potatoes and then slice them that thinly. You'll get a LOT of them. Toss them with the oil and the spices. You'll have enough.

Now, this is where the recipe screws up, badly. It tells you to put them directly on baking sheets, and to bake for 12-15 minutes.

If you do this, you will ruin your baking sheets, burn the potatoes, and be convinced you screwed up.. The last is NOT true. What you SHOULD do is line the baking sheets with parchment. You should lay out the potatoes in one layer, and if you have two sheets, use two. And if you have too many potatoes, do them in batches. Check them after as little as six minutes. They do not cook evenly, like commercial potato chips, so expect some brown ones, some lighter ones, and some that are mottled. You can let them go for as much as ten minutes, if you like them really dark, but they will get REALLY dark. Think of your audience.

Take them out, get them off the paper, and let them cool on a baking sheet. This, too, is important. They get much crisper this way.

The thing the recipe also does not tell you is that, if you enclose these in ANY kind of container, ANY kind, including the classic metal tin, they will lose their crispness. So, what I suggest is that you make them just before you're going to serve them (because you don't really want them around now, do you?) and serve them with a little dip or sour cream or something.

Make these. They're good, and always remember: if a recipe doesn't work, it's probably not your fault.

Our next few recipes are going to be a tribute to improvisation on things I have eaten at one of my favorite restaurants: Cookshop. We're going to make cauliflower with tahini, we're going to stuff cabbage with duck, and we're gonna make vanilla lime ice cream. They're all terrific.

She's back. With no regrets and with a recipe: Tian

Well, first of all, Annalena would like to thank everyone who expressed concern about her absence. More, she would like to thank those (and you know who you are, especially YOU, Chris), who kept on saying "you have to keep on writing. You have to, you have to, you have to." I WAS indeed close to folding the tent here. In addition to feeling that I had said all I wanted to say, I didn't think anyone would miss it. Well, I was wrong. So, thank you all. And now, I shall return to the joy of sharing my joy: cooking, with all of you. And we will start with something that there is precious little time to make, but is so good, you should make it: tian.
I do not know the origin of this word. It is NOT Asian, although it sounds a bit like it doesn't it? I suspect it is from a dialect like Provencal, or some other southern French dialect. To my ear, it bears resemblance to the Italian "tiella", which is similar in style, and is a classic of Pugliese cooking. Were I more inquisitive, I would start a google search and find it. I will leave it to more flexible minds (Sue? Are you paying attention?), to uncover the roots.
As I learned, a "tian" is more of a concept than a specific dish. And you all know how that takes on with Annalena. It is definitely a dish of late summer, or , as it is now fall, let us say "warm fall." There is still time to make this. The vegetables are still there and, since they will not be at their peak, and it is a baked dish, perhaps it will be better now than when you have, for example, beautiful summery tomatoes that beg you to simply slice them, salt them, and eat them.

Here we go. Start by cooking, as I was instructed "a mess of onions." I swear, that is what I was told. What is a mess of onions? Well, for me , it was a large panful. You don't need to be precise here, but you do need to do them. I use a mix of yellow and red onions. Slick your pan with olive oil, and then add circular slices of onion to the oil, which you will have heated, together with some salt, and a nice measure of chopped garlic. Cook this, until the onions have softened.

While this is going on, start preheating your oven to 400 degrees. Also, get a 9x13 baking dish, be it glass or ceramic and coat it with olive oil.

When your onions have cooked to the point of softness, toss in some chopped herbs, or even dried herbs here. You will get different flavors, both valid.

Let the onions alone for awhile, whilst you prepare your vegetables. Slice enough summer squash - and you CAN use the big ones if you have them - to make one or even two layers on the baking sheet. Do the same thing with eggplant, peeled or not, and also, tomatoes. The bigger tomatoes are better here, and heirloom are my preference, but beefsteak are good.

Now, take that pesto out of the refrigerator you have sitting in there. And if you don't (i) shame on you and (ii), use a flavorful olive oil instead.


Now, let's assemble the dish. Put the mess of onions on the bottom of the pan. Layer the squash, and either spoon some pesto or splash some olive oil on them. Put some herbs on them if you don't have pesto. Follow this with the tomatoes, and again, pesto or oil and herbs. Finally, the eggplant, and again, the oil and herbs, or the pesto. Finally, give the whole thing a nice sprinkle of salt.

This will feel like you need a crain to lift it into the oven. Good. Cover it with aluminum foil, and then put the thing in the oven. Let it bake for twenty minutes, and then, take off the foil. The eggplant will be softening, and the tomatoes dissolving. The squash, benefitting from the bath of flavors, will also be tender. Bake it uncovered for twenty minutes more and you are done.

I like this at room temperature, alongside of grilled meat. It is also wonderful cold, if you have one of the few hot days we will have left, or if, like faithful reader Christa, you will have more than a few. Cold, it goes well alongside some shrimp or fish. It also serves well on top of pasta (something Chris would never do, but on the other hand, Johnny is out there, and...).

By the way, if this sounds an awful lot like ratatouille to you, you're not far off. Having said that, the taste is quite different.

Try it. I think that you are going to like it.

Yes, I am back. And we will be having fun. Next time around, we're going to make fun of a recipe by a major cooking force, and make homemade potato chips. Yes indeed.