February 16, 2005
Pot au Feu
So, in an experiment demanded some time ago by classmate Amber, I've tried to document my Pot au feu, with beef tongue. I'm sure I can do better than this in terms of taking photos, but there it is. Have fun.
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Frozen Pea Soup
I always hate posting just after Will, because I get the feeling I'm pushing him down his own page. I feel like a house guest who sets up shop in his host's bed. Nonetheless, his post just below on frozen vegetables reminds me of a favorite, and fast meal.
Frozen Pea Soup
Roast a full head of garlic in foil for an hour. By the end, the garlic will be luxurious, soft, and extraordinarily mild - the only problem is that you'll have been forced to wait for an hour in the gentle fug of roasting garlic before you can tear a few cloves out of their cover, dip them in salt, and eat them with ilicit speed before you finish the recipe.
Then, in keeping with the frozen pea convenience motif, just put some cold water in a pan, add some cubed chicken stock, and a bag of frozen peas. Drop the roasted garlic in the pan as well, heat briefly (just till hot) and then puree the whole thing. The best way to do it, obviously, is one of those hand held blenders you can just stick in the pot, but if you don't have one any kind of food processor will do. Stir in some grated parmesan, and you're done - the soup will be bright green, smooth, and delicious. Eat with bread, and thick ham sandwiches.
N.B. - if you've got a parmesan rind, throw that into the soup while cooking. It gives a wonderful flavor.
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Everything that rises
Writing in today's New York Times, Mark Bittman discovers frozen vegetables. I wish I could say I was far ahead of him on this, but I discovered the joys of frozen peas only a month or two ago, and other frozen vegetables much more recently than that.
Also of note-- Bittman apparently is on phone-call terms with Harold McGeee, author of my (and Waddling Thunder's) beloved On Food and Cooking:
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Customer Service
In response to my post yesterday on the economics of Netflix, Paul Goyette challenges my suggestion that I ought to go complain to Netflix about their decisions to give favorable service to somebody other than me:
Does the situation really warrant action?
Well, obviously since I have not yet managed to rouse myself to action, it doesn't yet. But here are the reasons I can think of to complain that my DVDs do not come as frequently as they used to:
1: Disclosure. I would really just like to know, before deciding whether to give Netflix my money for the month, what kind of service they are going to give me. Also, if I will get the short end of the stick when I request popular movies, I can work around that-- there is plenty of unpopular stuff I would like to see, especially if it means I can see more of it.For me the reasons to be annoyed all fall into variations on the category of disclosure. There is no obligation to tell me their algorithm (so long as they do not lie about it) but I would still like to know it; I have no beef with them making ecomic decisions to favor customers who give higher profits, but it would be nice if they owned up to that decision publicly.
2: Two-person bargaining games. Rather than making a moral claim I could simply acknowledge that Netflix is currently attempting to leverage more profits out of me by sending me fewer movies for an amount of money I am still willing to pay. This is fine enough, but then I ought to fight back, bargain, and see if they will give me better service in order to keep me. I hate that.
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