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Chocolate & Zucchini Clotilde Dusoulier
  
Chocolate Frozen Yogurt The first taste of my improvised concoction, straight from the paddle of the ice cream maker, gave me pause: could it really have turned out so shockingly well? A second sample was collected, and the report was confirmed by the official authorities: I had really made a shockingly good chocolate frozen yogurt, so much so that I felt compelled to twitter it. Why so elated? Here's why: the chocolate flavor is ardent enough to satisfy the die-hard cacao worshipper, but the smooth tang of the yogurt makes it pleasing to those who prefer (gasp!) milk chocolate - a rare conciliation, to which the raw sugar adds undertones of malt and caramel.
Washington Post Jane Black - Food & Dining
A Chef's Plot Thickens He had hoped to have parsnips, too. But though he planted seeds for the wintry root vegetable, up sprouted a jungle of something else entirely. "We used the compost on the parsnip bed, and we got tomatoes instead," says Armstrong. "We're learning as we go." The kitchen composts about 50 percent of its waste. A small wormery the size of a milk crate produces enough organic fertilizer for the entire garden. Armstrong has banned bottled water and tinted the skylights in the restaurant, a move that cut his monthly electricity bill by 88 percent,...
Passionate Cook Johanna Wagner
  
Steamed Seabass with Ginger, Garlic and Chilli I never made a goulash in it, I didn't get to do a steamed pudding, but I used it daily for a myriad of things: steaming vegetables (and thus preserving the valuable nutrients that you invariably pour down the drain if you cook them) daily, making scrambled eggs (which wouldn't be the main reason why I'd buy it), sterilising bottles, dummies and jam jars, making soup stock, re-heating left-overs without them drying out, steaming mussels... the list goes on.
Vinography Alder Yarrow
Wine That Answers the Question: What is This Shit? Faced with low demand for their cooperative produced wines in the face of their region's reputation for producing plonk, a group of winemakers have decided that they might as well meet the consumer's expectation. So they've produced a wine labeled "Vin de Merde." And for anyone who didn't learn any French swear words when they got the chance in Fifth Grade, that means "Shit Wine." Or as the ever so proper BBC commentator puts it: "Crap wine." The rest of the text on the label says: "The worst signifies the best."
Simply Recipes Elise Bauer
  
Pear Ginger Maple Pie My oh my, this is good pie. Sweet from the fresh pears and the maple syrup, it's balanced by the snap from the candied ginger which helps give the pie a clear voice. The crumbly oatmeal topping is reminiscent of granola and provides a nice textural tête-à-tête with the fruit and crust. A wonderfully Autumn appropriate pear pie that's a welcome change from apple!
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Splendid Table American Public Media
Pork & Sons This week we have a homage to all things porcine, and the story of family life in a rural French village from French chef Stéphane Reynaud, author of Pork & Sons, Jane and Michael Stern have found the "krunkest" fish in Nashville at Eastside Fish, and Kim Marcus of The Wine Spectator brings us up to date on the wines of Portugal.
Cooks Illustrated Current Issue
  
In This Issue
New York Times Elisabeth Rosenthal - Dining and Wine
To Counter Problems of Food Aid, Try Spuds With governments having trouble feeding the growing number of hungry poor and grain prices fluctuating wildly, food scientists are proposing a novel solution for the global food crisis: Let them eat potatoes. Grains like wheat and rice have long been staples of diets in most of the world and the main currency of food aid. Now, a number of scientists, nutritionists and aid specialists are increasingly convinced that the potato should be playing a much larger role to ensure a steady supply of food in the developing world. Poor countries could grow more potatoes, they say, to supplement or even replace grains that are most often shipped in from far away and are subject to severe market gyrations.
Traveler's Lunchbox Melissa Kronenthal
  
The Year of Jam As I get older and the past starts to meld together into one amorphous blob, I find it helps to associate each year with the most important thing that happened. The funny thing is, though, that I can't always predict what the most important event of a year will be until well after it's over. For example, it should have been a foregone conclusion that 2008 would be remembered as the year we said goodbye to Scotland and moved to Seattle, but lately I'm beginning to have my doubts. Instead, there seems a pretty good chance that it will actually become known as the year I made jam out of everything that crossed my path.
David Lebovitz David Lebovitz
I Told You So I won't bring up the joke about why flying saucers never land on the lawns of Jewish people, but flip it over I did, and it said Made by Anchor Hocking. It didn't quite have a description of what it was (although it was nowhere near anything garlic-related in the store), so I searched on Google, and lo and behind - it is indeed a butter dish. Now I'm entirely convinced that I'm right and either the folks around here are playing a cruel joke on the gullible American, or what, but now I've got proof-positive, since I learned the truth on the internet. And although we don't always agree on everything, everyone knows, French and American, that if it's on the internet, it must be true. So there.
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Smitten Kitchen Deb Smitten
  
Cabbage and Mushroom Galette Two years ago there was a wild mushroom and stilton galette and last year there was a butternut squash and caramelized onion galette but since then? Nada. Let me serve to fix that right now. Why am I so obsessed with galettes? Halfway between a tart and pizza, I think they're easier than both. They don't require any of the eggs or liquid-setting bake of a quiche and there's less of a volume limitation than you have with pizza, where too many ingredients will send your toppings right onto the oven floor. The galette is perfection, and I am excited to add this one to the collection.
Orangette Molly Wizenberg
This Old Thing So, have you eaten your boiled kale yet? Because dessert is ready, but you have to finish your vegetables before you can have any. That's how it works. Isn't it charming? In a rustic, "oh, this old thing?" sort of way? It's the edible equivalent of a dog-eared book: a little rough around the edges, rumpled here and there, but 100 percent lovable on the inside. It's the kind of dessert that wants to be eaten in a red barn with a loft full of hay bales, or in a bed with flannel sheets, while the wind whistles outside. Unfortunately, I have neither a barn nor any flannel, but I'm working on it.
New York Times Magazine Sam Sifton - Style Section
  
The Way We Eat: Currying Favor It is Japan's chili, its bacon cheeseburger, its meatloaf and gravy all in one, a hangover-killing man meal found in bars and restaurants up and down the country narrow, never as good as Mom's. It is katsu curry: a thick, fragrant, porky roux glopped across delicate short-grain rice and topped - gilded, really - with a deep-fried pork cutlet, served beside a tangle of shredded cabbage. It's great. Katsu curry defines rib-sticking. Fiery, rich and deep with smoky flavor, it towers above delicious. It is remarkably easy to make. It is harder to explain.
French Laundry at Home Carol Blymire
Thank you. So, on that Christmas morning after we'd all opened the rest of our presents, I tore the wrapping paper off the book, curled up in a chair next to the fireplace, removed the plastic shrink wrap, inhaled the new-book smell of my brand new, very own copy of The French Laundry Cookbook, ignored everyone else (that's the Christmas spirit!), and began to read. I don't remember much else about that day. Couldn't tell you what we had for lunch. Don't remember if it snowed. Can't recall which relatives I saw that night. All I can remember is absorbing every word, and wishing I could eat every page.
101 Cookbooks Heidi Swanson
  
Berry Beer Baked Beans Recipe It's a big, rich, hearty pot of beans that you could let bubble away for a couple hours while you go about your business. The beans are immersed in a decadent swamp of berry beer, dried berries, molasses, broth, and a few other flavorful accents. They get nice and plump, and the broth cooks waaay down and thickens. I think you'll like them. AND in the end, I promise you one epically stained, heavy pot - all yours to soak and scrub. Because as we all know, there's no pot you won't tackle, and no place you'd rather wind down from a good meal.
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