Virtuous Eating

"Virtuous" is described in the online Merriam-Webster dictionary as "morally excellent" or righteous.  Here is even a Google image of it:

Fascinating. I think the discussion of "virtuosity" usually focuses on "reason" and 'discipline", but hardly ever compassion, which is too close to passion and passionate, which are "immoral" feelings. But I digress. I named this post the way I did because I had a pretty good day of eating what in many circles would be described as virtuous: fruits, vegetables and proteins, very few sweets and very few carbs. Of course to fully achieve eating enlightenment and mass approval, I would have not eaten any carbs, sugar, or drunk any alcohol. As I write this, I am enjoying my second glass of a delightful crisp  chardonnay, so throw that one out on its keester. Also, I had a few cups of coffee today, which in some books, is also deemed immoral. It got me thinking.

I don't believe in God or religion, much less moral eating. I frown--ok, I usually scoff and roll my eyes and may even throw out a *(&*^%*^*%$#$# THAT! at the suggetion that there is a "moral" or "good" or "virtuous" way of eating. I was in a health seminar once where my discussion group leader was convinced that being a vegetarian was the only morally right way to eat. I disagree completely.

But I do know that when I eat a meal--as I did tonight--of lean protein and vegetables, I feel... healthier. Not that I am better person in the world for it or a better citizen--I don't immediately want to run out and save a dying refugee or plant a tree--but I do feel...more whole.

I would like to strip away all the value judgments from food: carrot sticks GOOD/ chocolate cake with fudge icing and toasted pecans and caramel drizzle BAD.  What does it mean that some food is "bad" for you: bad in that it is loaded with calories or fats or "bad" in that it will make you shoot someone in cold blood (the infamous "twinkie defense). Maybe chocolate cake is actually good for you because it makes you happy and then you are nicer to people, who respond to your starry-eyed, chocolate buzzed kindness by doing good things--like planting trees and saving dying refugees. Choco cake then becomes the basis of all the good in the world. Ah! cake is GOOD for you!

It's a fascinating discussion, isn't it? I suppose it's really tied to weight; more weight is bad, less weight is good. Fat is bad, thin is good. Unless you live in sub-Saharan Africa where people are starving, and then fat is a sign of wealth and prosperity--ah; fat is good. (I just searched for an image to include here, but only turned up starving looking children who are likely refugees, and so posting pictures of them to make my point would be in bad taste....bad.) Fat here also may mean greed and corruption.. back to bad.

Balance, I suppose, is key. There is not good or bad eating that inherently then makes me a bad person. There are, however, (as there has almost always been) a handful (or a couple) of pounds that need to be lost, so alas...down to eating fewer calories and burning up more of them on the treadmill. It will not make me a better person in the world; it may however extend my time in it, and well, at least for me and the few people who really do love me, that would be good. 

Leftover Dinner

Random thought: leftover dinner is mighty delicious when there are good leftovers. Tonight: choucroute garnie from New Year's Day (every year, pork and sauerkraut for luck; I think it's a German thing); scalloped potatoes from New Year's Eve (how can you go wrong with potatoes, Gruyere, and heavy cream?); roasted cauliflower from I can't remember, and a boneless BBQ chicken wing from New Year's Day viewing of the Rose Bowl (with OSU v the Oregon Ducks: Bucks take it!). Oh, and a little fresh arugula salad tossed with lemon, olive, oil, S and P, and some chopped toasted pecans. Really? Sometimes, it's the simple things that are the best.

What Makes Me Happy? Cheese Snacks!

Oh yum. Humboldt Fog, extra sharp Cheddar, and Cashel blue. Slightly salty sesame crackers. A perfect little repast for a windy cold day. Maybe even a little chutney to go with the cheddar. Now, I think I need a beer, too. I have more work to do, but maybe this will make it all go that much more smoothly. Wish I had a little salami, too. Oh well. I'll be happy...

Another Vacation Food Story: Crab Legs

It just leaves itself open to so much innuendo, doesn't it? Beginning with J.R.'s love of a new girlfriend (I think we can refer to her that way now), at the announcement that we were having these delicious delicacies for dinner and the following discussion about the best way to eat them, looked doey eyed at him and asked if he would crack her legs. Off to that start, it just had to be all downhill from there.

We surrounded the dinner table, covered smartly by Keela with a plastic table cloth (but red, for the season) and had placed before us a bowl of cold boiled shrimp and a small container of zesty cocktail sauce, another bowl of hot shrimp sauteed in spices, and then the piece d' resistance of the meal: a platter of hot pink crab legs. Grab a knuckle and go to town.

With only two mechanical crackers to share amongst the six of us, there was very little waiting or resting on ceremony. We regressed to the behavior of our cave-dwelling ancestors and, with atavistic hunger and glee, ripped the piping hot legs open with bare hands and pulled, or sucked, or dug out the meat inside. Ahs and grunts and cheers accompanied us, and we competed to retreive the longest, thickest piece of claw leg. Dip it in butter and pop it your mouth in one continuous motion. Ah the joyous carnage if it all. 

And of course, with all that clawing and plunging and biting and dripping, there was bound to be  equally enlightened table talk. I have to admit, I took the lead...what can I say? It was all good funky food fun--some of the best food porn ever.

New Year's Eve Dinner

For now the second year in a row, Deb and I spent a fun feast of an evening with our friends Barb and Kim. Last year, we made a beef wellington the size of a half sheet pan and one of the most delicious meals I've ever had. This year, we opted for another elegant choice: crown of lamb. What a treat!

We made our plan about a month ago and had been discussing cooking options since then. Never having made a crown, we worried about cooking times, especially, given the little lollipops of meet. It would be a real tragedy to have such a lovely crown and burn the meat. When we arrived at their house, however, Barb had gathered several recipes and had a plan: 15-25 minutes at 400 degrees, and then down to 325 for another 30. Trusting a rub she uses on a rack of lamb--and similiar to one that Deb has used to great results on a leg of lamb--she made a loose paste of chopped garlic, rosemary, and thyme. She oiled the lamb with olive oil, rubbed the paste generously over the meat, and into the oven. The crown sizzled and popped and was perfectly medium rare. On Top Chef, the contestants are always undercooking their lamb chops, poor things--and even less fortunate judges! They should take a lesson from Barb! The only thing missing were the cute little paper crowns--oh well!

I called dessert and again, about a month ago, decided on a poached pear chocolate tart. I looked everywhere for a recipe and couldn't find anything that combined all of these elements. My only choice: make it up for myself. My plan: a chocolate and pastry cream tart topped with poached pears filled with marscapone cream and dipped in chocolate.

I started with poached pears. I wanted seckle pears; they are the perfect adorable size. Because I also had the idea early on to fill the poached pears with marscapone, I imagined the pears sitting upright on the tart whole. The 1 1/2# seckle pear would have been perfect. I couldn't find them at the market the day I shopped. I chose a pear a bit larger.

I found a recipe for a poaching liquid that included red wine, sage leaf, sugar, vanilla bean, and cinnamon sticks and water. Believe me, this liquid turned syrup after several hours of simmering following the poaching was worth the bottle of good red wine I used to make it.  The pears came out a lovely pink color with little hats on top.

Next steps included a pre-made crust (why mess when Pillsbury will do it for me, only better); a filling made of marscapone, powdered sugar, vanilla, a pinch of cinnamon, and heavy cream. And then the chocolate, which became much more of a challenge than it probably needed to be. I found a recipe for a chocolate sauce: melt butter and then stir into it an equal amount of finely chopped chocolate. But, I decided to try to use some ganache (chocolate and cream) I had left over from a previous recipe. That did not work so well. Then I tried melting a jar of hot fudge sauce that Deb had been given for Christmas. I dipped the pears in that, and they looked lovely, but later, the chocolate began to slide off.

Frustrated, I moved onto the pastry cream, which began with cream steeped with vanilla, a pear core from a bosc pear, and orange peel. That was delicious. I think I'm lazy, though, because I always give up on my pastry cream a little too soon and it never gets quite thick enough. The flavor, however, was delicious.

I put a layer of the ganache over the baked crust--that worked well. And then spread that with the pastry cream and chilled. That worked well--at that point. Then, I returned to the chocolate sauce recipe and used that to drizzle over the pears. That worked beautifully, and I wish I had just started with that from the beginning. My "chocolate lava pears" as Deb called them, were ready to be put on top of the tart. Assembly would happen at Barb and Kim's house.

After dinner and several glasses of wine, I brought out my tart (which I should have been holding in the refrigerator and not on the counter), and topped it with the chocolate pears (which at this point had lost most of their fudgey bottoms because the chocolate had melted away). The pears sunk into the too thin pastry cream and what fudge was left started to run into the cream. Alas, it was a bit of a mess. (Deb is not wrong when she says I need to work on presentation!)

 

But, on the plate, I served a generous swipe of the wine syrup along with one whole pear, and it looked lovely. The best part--the whole thing was delicious.

Next time, I will stick to others' knitting and follow the classic French recipe for a pear tart, but for a special dinner with good friends who are adventurous in spirit and palate, I was happy to try something new and, ultimately, uniquely my own.

Vacation Food Stories

So many good stories to tell from vacation to Florida--my family is either eating or drinking or talking about food; very little else!!--but I'll start with the one about Five Guys. We were on our way to the Edison House--yeah, whatever; I guess there is a banyan tree there that is kind of interesting. Anyway, we had barely pulled out of the gate when Deb started to talk from the back seat about the Five Guys she saw on the main road and "oh, I hear it's really good" and "oh, I really love burgers," on and on. Dad didn't help the situation by talking about how good the grilled mushrooms are and the grilled onions. And then.... "Should we give up on Edison House and just go have burgers for lunch?" YES!!

Oh my gosh what an amazing burger! Deb is much more of a burger fan than I am, but this is the best of its breed. Two fresh patties with cheese in the middle topped with my choice of fresh toppings. I chose lettuce, tomato, pickles and ketchup. These burgers taste like the ones we used to get as kids, before too much mass production or over-thinking took over hamburgers. Just fresh, good, perfectly grilled, and on a toasted plain bun. Fries were perfect; not too big, not too small, perfect balance of crisp and tender.  The giveaway bulk peanuts in little paper pockets is cute, too.

Five Guys started in 1986 in the Washington, D.C. area and now has over 450 stores in 30 states. None, sadly, however, in Boston, where we prefer to pay way too much money for over-engineered burgers that are not half as good. Their website says there are more than 250,000 ways to order a Five Guys burger; Deb and I could well make our way through many of those options if we had a Five Guys near by to try.

Oink oink

Seriously. The special rib eye steak that took up half the plate covered in sauteed mushroom sauce with new spring potato mash and grilled zucchini. Gone! And, as if that wasn't enough--two desserts: a unbelievable tres leche cake with real whipped cream and a warm peach cobbler. Pig. Pig! PIG!! The fact that I shared the desserts with others does not undo the swine factor on my part. Good thing that during the chow fest, a friend and I talked about training for the half-marathon. Good golly Miss Molly!