Got Wheat?

There are very few subjects that cross my desk that are more misunderstood than the relative nutritional value of wheat. The problem lies in the fuzzy information that is generally offered to the public, though the facts are readily available to anyone who cares to do a little research.

Now, I am not here to attack this humble little servant to our food culture. I like wheat bread as much as the next person. But I like it for its flavor and not for any erroneous claims to heath benefits that may be offered. You see, the typical wheat bread available on the market is made with wheat flour. That’s just another way of saying white flour. It is the whole wheat, with the high-fiber, nutrient rich bran attached, which brings the goods to the table. But what if the label says ‘made with whole wheat’? Well, the labeling laws says that if as little as 2% of the total flour weight is whole wheat, then it is okay to put it on the label. As with everything, read the fine print! But you are wondering about the color, right? You just cannot get that brownish tan hue with white flour, can you? The only trick here is that just enough whole-wheat flour is added to color the dough. That’s all.

Now if the label says made with 100% whole wheat, then you are in the clear. In fact, look for breads that provide 2 grams of fiber per slice to be sure you are getting bread made with the whole bran and all the intrinsic positives this brings. But here is the stunner: wheat is not the nutritional dynamo that you might think it is. The fact is a slice of cheese has much more protein, potassium, riboflavin, vitamin D and other vitamins than a slice of whole wheat bread. Bread is a foundation for a diet—but it is the fruit, vegetable and proteins you consume that provide the real value.

Hey, but as long as we are in the neighborhood, what about that regular old white flour that is a staple in every kitchen? First things first: white flour is not all that evil. While it is true that the bleaching process removes many vitamins from the wheat, in the 1940s the Food and Drug Administration mandated that every all-purpose flour be "enriched," so small amounts of iron, niacin, thiamin and riboflavin are added, as well as folic acid, a member of the vitamin B complex. Flour that is bleached naturally ( with oxygen) as it ages is labeled "unbleached," and you will notice that it is a little grayer looking than the chemically (chlorine) treated flour that is labeled "bleached." Bleached flour has less protein than unbleached, but is nutritionally the same, and not that far behind whole-wheat. Bleached is best for pie crusts, cookies, quick breads, pancakes and waffles. Use unbleached flour for yeast breads, Danish pastry, puff pastry, strudel, Yorkshire pudding, éclairs, cream puffs and popovers.

garlic and ginger

Did you know that January is ‘National dried plum breakfast’ month? Makes you wonder who comes up with this stuff, doesn’t it? Anyway, now that the fruits and vegetables of the summer and late fall harvests are a faded memory, it’s a perfect time to celebrate the winter crop. And how rich it is! The varied squashes, a riot of beets and crucifers such as cabbage and Brussels sprouts, sun chokes—the list goes on and on of seasonal tastes and we will feature them all at the club in one form or another. But there are two flavors that I always tend to think of when the mercury is dipping that you might find surprising—garlic and ginger.

I know that most people do not associate these tastes with the seasons, and tend to think of them more along the lines of their uses in particular cuisines. But let’s look at it a little closer. Garlic, for example, is well known for its healing properties. We hear about it discussed with regard to impact on heart disease, cancer and even lowering cholesterol. But on a more common level, garlic is amazingly effective in fighting viruses such as the ever-problematic common cold, the other unwanted visitor many of us receive in January (along with Holiday bills!).

Ginger has the heat in it to feel quite warm when going down, and is soothing to sore throats and upset tummies. And bonus—ginger is an anti-inflammatory, useful for those aching joints. Probably why many a Grandma prescribes a little ginger tea or ale when you don’t feel so well.

How great that two wonderful seasoning components not only taste sublime but are also so useful to your general well being, can be incorporated into so many dishes. Just remember a few guidelines: with garlic, the finer you chop it, the stronger it is. So if you looking for a mild garlic flavor, leave the cloves larger. In fact, take a whole head, cut the top off and smear with olive oil and a sprinkle of kosher salt; wrap in foil and roast until soft. When you remove it from the oven, hold it by the bottom and squeeze the roasted garlic right out of the leaves. It will be heavenly sweet and smeared on a little French bread, nothing short of sensational. A great tip for peeling ginger—use a plain old soup or teaspoon. This is the most effective way to get in and out of all those little bumps. The edge of the spoon will peel the skin right off. Cut the amount of ginger you need, and store the rest of what is peeled in some brandy or sherry for another day.

It's that time of year, again

Enjoy... http://youtube.com/watch?v=b8-pCbQnSC4

people,people

The slide show is compose of a few pics taken in the span of about 5 minutes just to get things going. I will be adding more soon.

the menu

It can start with a smell; a memory, a glance, or a flag waving in the graying sky of dusk. It can be a happy accident or a fleeting melancholy moment, a slip of the tongue, a sepia-toned photo. The creative seed can be born of any of this happenstance and an infinite number more. But one thing is certain for me, it is seldom planned.

I never know what will trigger the need to begin the creative process, or I should say revive it from its dormancy. It’s always there, but the typical day has enough cereal filler in it to suck DaVinci dry. Contrary to what the general public might perceive, most chefs do not spend all their time dreaming up the next Beef Wellington or ham and cheese sandwich. No, after being a purchasing agent, medic, counselor, accountant, referee, dispatcher, teacher, diplomat, salesman, entertainer, warrior and general contractor he/she might get a little cooking done, and in a burst of lucid thought, apply a little water to that aforementioned seed. But it is these little moments that bring the joy.

Sitting down and trying to force out a menu is really difficult for me. I can stare at a piece of paper or computer screen for interminable lengths of time with nary an enthusiasm to apply. Sure, I can slap out a card of the usual suspects, just like the menu engineering books tell you to do, but that does not bring the juice and I just know my lack of commitment will be evident. It’s no good under these circumstances and counter-productive at best. Usually this is the best time to find something that is automatic to do; requiring the least amount of mental effort. Peeling potatoes works, as well as washing dishes. Anything that eases the obligation of providing more than the bases of solutions will serve the purpose. Soon enough I will find my muse, or I should say it will find me, and the motivation to create will reach ramming-speed.

How precious this time is! I can almost feel my brain stem throbbing as the anxious thoughts make there way to paper. It’s flowing now like a dam-burst and my hand cannot write quick enough to maintain the pace. I dig this groove and soon enough I am at it, Henckel in hand, preparing to attack some defenseless food that had the misfortune of lazing in my cooler. Flush with anticipation the cooking begins, the adjusting of tastes, the solicitation of opinions, the glorious finish. On it goes, the clock wisely divorcing itself from my conscious eye, for nothing so vulgar as the passage of time can interfere with this union of thought and skill. Knife, mind and pen are as one, and this trio will conceive a new life.

This is not work. This is euphoria and freedom laid out on a stainless steel counter. That I get paid for this is a delicious irony, although I suspect most of my wages are more than well earned on the banal tasks I alluded to earlier. And as to the whole point of the exercise-- the client, diner, guest? How little do they know that their happiness with the end results is just a bi-product of the circumstance. Of course, they are the reason I produce in the first place. Where would I, or any of us be without a receptive audience? But it doesn’t start with some grand scheme to further the joy of mankind or to attempt to reinvent cuisine. It’s not about a political statement or the overall human condition. It’s all quite ordinary, in fact, and nothing more magnanimous than serving the creative process --and it’s all I ever want it to be.

Who talked me in to this?

So it begins. It's not like I don't have enough to do, so why not a blog? I am at the outset dubious as to the quality (and interest) anyone will find here, but what the hell. A career path cut through the not-really-all-that-glamorous world of the culinary arts may yield a nugget or two, perhaps jaded, about, food, art, business or life in general. Maybe not.

I am presently bummed at sending out the last plate of heirloom tomatoes for the season. My stash exhausted, it's time to change the menu to a decidedly root direction. Turnips, baby carrots--sugar right off the brix scale--beets and spuds in various forms will dominate the veggie scene on the card--and they will be delish--but it still hurts to give up the very last vestige of summer.



Oh, but soon the first of the winter truffles will arrive and in addition my collection of squash recipes is at the ready to carry me all the way to spring training (the Indians will win it all this year!)! so things are not so bleak after all.

Okay, well this is beginning to feel forced--I'm just not on for writting tonight--so let's call it a game. Later...