Eating

Although by now you're probably used to my rather eccentric titles, this one may be just too obscure. It's an allusion to the fabulous Koko Taylor aka "Queen of the Blues." She was discovered by the legendary Willie Dixon, whose song "Wang Dang Doodle" made her famous. I had the pleasure of seeing her perform many years ago and I'll never forget it. But the title also refers to making hot chocolate just how you like it. Half and half? Rice milk? Bittersweet chocolate? Vanilla? Cinnamon? Chile pepper? Marshmallow? Have it your way. These days, I'm enjoying mine with the addition of Apollonia, a divine spice blend from the mad alchemist Lior Lev Sercarz. Youshould try goosing your cocoa with a pinch of this fairy dust, too.
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I'm always lecturing you about cutting out sugar and eating more greens, right? There are so many blogs you could be reading instead, blogs that give you recipes for cheese-laden pastas and bacon-studded scones and chocolate tortes. And yet here you are, learning about whey and sunchokes and making your own pickles. And I love you for that, you sexy thing. While I don't think it's smart to consider food as a reward, I do believe that into every life a little sweet must fall. Especially with the holidays upon us, it's best to have some pragmatic treats on hand that can shield us from the cheese twists and peppermint bark and pecan rolls that will soon materialize at every turn. So here's a recipe for a tasty little biscut that is sugar-free and gluten-free, yes, but also rich and crunchy and packed with flavor. Trust me, that's not the taste of deprivation.
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You may have noticed my total disregard of the upcoming holiday. Perhaps this is because we are going to a friend's home for Thanksgiving this year and I will not be in the kitchen. Or maybe it's just that I am weary to the bone of online discussions about the best way to cook a turkey and the incessant chatter about "sides." Upon receiving my latest issue of Lucky Peach, I was especially delighted to see that there was no burnished bird or puffy harvest casserole on the cover. (It's actually the Chinatown issue and, yet again, it's jam-packed with some of the most engaging and entertaining long-form food writing out there.) In fact, if I never hear anything more about quinoa, delicata squash or cranberry compote it will be too soon. Yet we must eat, and most of us will be sitting down to a major chowdown on Thursday, so I felt this was the perfect opportunity to continue the conversation about green sauces.
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Sweet or savory? If forced to choose, I know where I stand. Not that I lack the sweet tooth that is hard-wired into our shared biology—all mammals have a propensity for sweetness because it's a good predictor of high nutritional value—but sugar is hard on my body, and over the years I have gradually learned to resist its addictive pleasures. I was not raised on soda, so thankfully I never had to wean myself from that. Nevertheless, with the holidays coming up there will be lots of temptation, what with the pumpkin pie and the eggnog and my own yearly batch of caramels. Between my resistance movement and the gluten intolerance factor, our kitchen sees very little baking action. For all that I have loved and adored lemon meringue pie and chocolate chip cookies and German chocolate cake and cheesecake over the years, we've simply grown apart. So when the lovely people at Tate's sent me a review copy of owner Kathleen King's new Baking for Friends: Over 120 Scrumptious Recipes from Southampton's Favorite Baker, I was curious if it would inspire me. (I had some inkling of what was possible, because we're occasional and enthusiastic fans of Tate's gluten-free chocolate chip cookies, which are excellent facsimiles of their crisp and buttery wheat version.)
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On the heels of the storm, I flew to California for a long-planned and eagerly anticipated retreat at The Ashram, a uniquely wonderful haven in the Santa Monica mountains. I had been once before, nine years ago, and so was prepared for the grueling daily hikes, restorative yoga sessions, simple vegetarian meals, extraordinary massages and deeply supportive staff. What I was not prepared for was the hideous chest cold that came on as I stepped off the sub-Saharan plane flight and had me straining for every breath as I climbed steep hills in the unseasonal 90-degree heat. After much struggling and malaise, I simply succumbed and flew home, just two days into the week-long program. Words cannot express the depths of my disappointment. On the bright side, in those brief days, I received some very valuable insights that I'm excited to share with you. (And at the end, there will be a recipe for sunchokes that will help you stop gazing at them in that perplexed fashion once and for all.)
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Attention: This post contains some very graphic photos! If you are not prepared to see the actual process of a chicken being slaughtered and processed, read no further.

For those of you who eat chicken and would like to understand how it goes from being a living being to a nourishing food on your plate, please read on. The photos are not meant to distress or sensationalize, merely to document the steps necessary in a small, hands-on operation. I encourage you to familiarize yourself with this, as I'm hoping it may affect your desire to consume industrially raised and processed animals. I think it's really important to understand how the animals we eat are fed, treated and killed; to make every effort possible to ensure humane treatment; and to refuse to eat anything whose origins are uncertain. For a more thorough explication of my beliefs on this subject, go here.
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The storm came and it took so much from us: our electricity, our water, our phones, our internet. It took our connections. Our lights. Our power. We became vulnerable, alone and in the dark. We were frightened. And then we rallied and made do. We foraged for water. We built roaring fires and lit candles. We strapped on battery-run headlamps and cooked hands-free. We traveled to friends' houses to swap stories, plug in and reassure each other that all was well. Everywhere we went, the horribly splintered and gaping maws of downed trees reminded us of Sandy's strength. When we finally saw the images of those places truly under water, we were humbled. For what does a little time without the trappings of civilization compare to life irrevocably changed by devastation and death? We were the lucky ones. As I always say, those of us left behind must lift our heads, set our jaws and move forward. One sure way to reclaim our power? We voted.
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My fascination with all things powdered and crumbled continues. During our recent dinner at Stone Barns, a tomato powder was served with the bread course, and it added a tart and savory note to the fresh creaminess of their cultured butter. Tomatoes have high levels of naturally occuring glutamates, which are the compounds reponsible for the full, rounded, "meaty" flavors known as umami. It's a big part of what we all love about things like Parmesan, mushrooms and soy sauce. So after making and freezing loads of tomato sauce, I used the last few scarlet beauties of the year to make a jar of powerfully red tomato powder. Sprinkled on a piece of cheese or—mixed with a little salt—on an apple or radish, it adds a lip-smacking tang I find positively addictive.
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I continue to be enamored of whey and hope my recipes for slow-cooked onions or crisp pickles may have piqued your interest. I suggest you get your hands on some by making fresh cheese or paneer (which might lead you down another path to this Indian dish or this one). I've learned that whey is also referred to as "milk serum," which sounds like something from the world of molecular gastronomy. But this yellowish, watery liquid is simply what's left when milk curdles, either from the use of rennet (sweet whey) or acid, like lemon or vinegar (acid whey). Whey was once a popular drink in inns and coffee houses (in the 1700s!) and has been used for centuries by European, Middle Eastern and Asian peoples to preserve food and in all manner of fermented tonics. It's an excellent source of minerals and digestive bacteria, and acts as a remedy for an upset stomach. Sipped on its own, whey is kind of an acquired taste, with a faint cheesiness that is not unpleasant. When combined with honey and frozen into sorbet, it's simply divine.
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A recent visit to our friends' farm up near the Vermont border yielded several delightful items from their bountiful garden, including a curvaceous butternut squash and a great big, beautiful sunflower head. Birds (or mice?) had already had their way with some of the purplish seeds but there were still plenty left. I lopped the yellow-fringed head off the tall, top-heavy plant, ferried it home and left it to dry in the porch for a few days. Then I turned it upside down, banged and clawed all the seeds out and looked into the proper roasting technique.
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