Their supporters and their personas offer an interesting look at class, gender, and regional identities.
Paula’s act is the over the top modern Southern woman. She is the matriarchal apotheosis of white, Southern, grandmotherly cooks. She is also from Savannah which brings a little of the baggage of being a bit more brash, a bit louder, and a bit rougher around the edges than someone from Oxford or Charleston or Buckhead. She turns the idea of a Southern accent up to 11. Most people in the South do not have so many dipthongs in their arsenal, and yes, she is laying it on thick.
If she can’t fry it or smother it in butter or some kind of gooey-ness, it can’t be done. This includes the English language.
Bourdain is a lot of tough talk and no less of an actor than Dean. He’s a New Yorker, and by god, you will not forget this. He can talk. He can spin a yarn. His job on No Res isn’t to highlight what tourists can do in each locale, but to find the hidden gems, each place’s ‘real,’ such as it is, culinary identity. He’s on the Travel Channel, not the Food Network as Paula is.
I’d rather eat at her table but have a drink with him.
So legit.
I would probably order at least one of those specials despite hating the concept of “Bacon Bad” because IT’S NOT TRUE, GODDAMNIT.
That pie’s gone HAM.
Cantaloupe outbreak is deadliest in a decade - The Washington Post
Health officials say as many as 16 people have died from possible listeria illnesses traced to Colorado cantaloupes, the deadliest food outbreak in more than a decade. (Sept. 28)
I didn’t really like cantaloupes before, but now I have good reason. Perhaps we should take a look at food safety standards?
(h/t: Umi G.)
Food safety standards? That reeks of socialism. The free market will take care of this outbreak. Consumers know not to buy cantaloupes from those growers … or perhaps it was the fruit sorting and packaging companies … or wait, they might have been contaminated by the shipping companies … or in the markets where they were sold. Anyway, the point is, those 16 people died so that the rest of us can make informed choices. We don’t need no dang gubmint to tell us not to eat deadly toxins.
Roasted chicken, boiled new potatoes, limas coming up.
Prep work done: chicken satay skewers and Sam Cherry Wheat.
So this new cookbook arrived last night; J wants to try Middle Eastern foods, to which I say, ‘Great!’ But it’s weird—we’re trying a recipe for roasted, stuffed turkey—to which I again say, ‘Great!’ but the recipe calls for a 5# turkey.
That’s a good size roasting chicken, but a mighty small turkey. My butcher laughed at me and asked if I wanted a turkey breast that size and brought out his smallest turkey—20#s.
So I got a 5# chicken (shoulda got a capon, duh!), and this recipe seems pretty damn good. Onion, pine nuts, almonds, and currants all sauteed together, then add ground lamb (J doesn’t eat lamb so I’m using ground turkey) and a little cinnamon, rice, and chicken stock. That cooked for 15 minutes, then I stuffed the bird.
My house now smells great, and in two hours we dine.