Food Spices Quotes

There is no single face in nature, because every eye that looks upon it, sees it from its own angle. So every man's spice-box seasons his own food.

Maybe I should add some graffiti to spice it up. For a good time call the Consort. Beast Lord eats your food and turns into a lion in his sleep. Mahon has hemorrhoids. Boudas do it better. Warning, paranoid attack jaguar on the prowl…

All worries are less with wine.

Cookery means…English thoroughness, French art, and Arabian hospitality; it means the knowledge of all fruits and herbs and balms and spices; it means carefulness, inventiveness, and watchfulness.

Why would these English explorers search for these spices, yet never use them in their food? --7/14/09 interview with Peter Mancall, author of Fatal Journey

Hunger gives flavour to the food.

Some people when they see cheese, chocolate or cake they don't think of calories.

There are very few men and women, I suspect, who cooked and marketed their way through the past war without losing forever some of the nonchalant extravagance of the Twenties. They will feel, until their final days on earth, a kind of culinary caution: butter, no matter how unlimited, is a precious substance not lightly to be wasted; meats, too, and eggs, and all the far-brought spices of the world, take on a new significance, having once been so rare. And that is good, for there can be no more shameful carelessness than with the food we eat for life itself When we exist without thought or thanksgiving we are not men, but beasts.

The three most powerful seasonings are hunger, variety, and gratitude.

The sweet-smelling aroma of the island spices still hung in the air. It filled his nostrils and titillated his appetite all over again. His appetite drove him mad for something much more than food.

Then to Misty's Spice Boutique for food so bland and inambitious I doubt it'll ever aspire to become shit. It'll probably just sit in my colon yawning

​As a little girl, a woman is groomed to become a wife and a mother. She is trained to always make wise decisions, yet there will forever be limits and boundaries. As I look back, I remember being told what I could and could not do, simply because I was a girl. A little girl is told she cannot act like a boy; if she does, she will be classified as a “tomboy”. Climbing trees was prohibited, instead, she was taught to put a baby doll in a stroller and take the doll for a walk. She couldn’t sit as she pleased; she was told to only sit with her ankles crossed. Girls were given a kitchen playset that was equipped with a stove, sink, and an accessory set of play food dishes, pots, and pans, etc., along with a tea set to bring out the “elegance” in them. As the saying goes, “Girls are sugar and spice, and everything nice.” I’m taken aback by how girls are groomed to be a certain way; however, boys are able to love life and live freely without limitations and criticism.

But what do I love when I love my God? Not the sweet melody of harmony and song; not the fragrance of flowers, perfumes, and spices; not manna or honey; not limbs such as the body delights to embrace. It is not these that I love when I love my God. And yet, when I love Him, it is true that I love a light of a certain kind, a voice, a perfume, a food, an embrace; but they are of the kind that I love in my inner self, when my soul is bathed in light that is not bound by space; when it listens to sound that never dies away; when it breathes fragrance that is not borne away on the wind; when it tastes food that is never consumed by the eating; when it clings to an embrace from which it is not severed by fulfillment of desire. This is what I love when I love my God.

His high spiced wares were made to sell, and they sold; and his thousands of readers could as rationally charge their delight in filth upon him, as a glutton can shift upon his cook the responsibility of his beastly excess.

My yogurt was nestled into a bag, waiting to turn into aushak, and all around us were sausages and pastry, lollipops and spices, chicken and cheese. Any world that contained all this, I thought surveying our loot, was a very fine place. I felt reinvigorated, alive, optimistic. The though of getting back to work suddenly seemed like fun.

Incidentally, the long-held idea that spices were used to mask rotting food doesn't stand up to much scrutiny. The only people who could afford most spices were the ones least likely to have bad meat, and anyway spices were too valuable to be used as a mask.

Once, I thought happiness was the sizzle in the pan. But it’s not. Happiness is the spice—that fragile speck, beholden to the heat, always and forever tempered by our environment.

A good spice often deceives us into thinking that someone is a good cook.

…food is capable of feeding far more than a rumbling stomach. Food is life; our well-being demands it. Food is art and magic; it evokes emotion and colors memory, and in skilled hands, meals become greater than the sum of their ingredients. Food is self-evident; plucked right from the ground or vine or sea, its power to delight is immediate. Food is discovery; finding an untried spice or cuisine is for me like uncovering a new element. Food is evolution; how we interpret it remains ever fluid. Food is humanitarian: sharing it bridges cultures, making friends of strangers pleasantly surprised to learn how much common ground they ultimately share.

Despite a few exceptions, I have found that Americans are now far more willing to learn new names, just as they're far more willing to try new ethnic foods... It's like adding a few new spices to the kitchen pantry.

Inside, the box was divided into tiered chambers, each with a lacquered lid, and these held a selection of ground and whole spices: sage, turmeric, cumin, ginger, mustard, cinnamon, asafetida, mace, cayenne, and cloves. I felt like an emperor receiving the treasures of a new country. The odor rising from the box was like a clambering vine wrapping itself thickly around my head, musky with the deep minerals of the earth and dusting my shoulders with a rainbow of pollen.

When it was cooler, Trazada made a simple meal of sausage, cheese, and bread. She had schooled herself to wait dinner until hunger urged her to eat; it gave seasoning to poor food that no spice could furnish. ("The Generalissimo's Butterfly")

The girl clones at Singer Grove were just like the ones in Texas; they knocked themselves out to be like everyone else and then bragged about how they were different. All their differences put into a pot and boiled down wouldn't spice baby food. By trying to brag about how different they were, they just really showed how alike they were, because all their differences were alike.

After 1656 the Dutch, who had gained control over the Moluccas, chose the islands that could be most easily defended. They then burned all the nutmeg trees on the other islands to make sure no one else could profit from the trees. Anyone caught trying to smuggle nutmeg out of the Moluccas was put to death. The Dutch also dipped all their nutmegs in lime (a caustic substance) to stop the seed from sprouting and to prevent people from planting their own trees. Pigeons, however, defied these Dutch precautions. Birds could eat nutmeg fruits, fly to another island and leave the seeds behind in their droppings.

I am more of an herb guy than a spice guy. It comes back to a certain conservatism I have regarding food. The French are not big on spices; they use more herbs. I know the spices used in European cooking and use them in moderation. I am not going to serve a dish that is wildly nutmegged!" David Waltuck, Chanterelle NYC

You are the salt of the earth. And you are here to season the world.

I wonder, just for a second, how it will taste on Gael's tongue, the cinnamon and chile en polvo laced into our vanilla cake, the spice a little like what he adds to his family's tamales.

I don't believe in curses, you know. Nor in ghosts or anything precisely supernatural. But I do believe that emotions and events have a certain...lingering resonance. It may be that emotions can even communicate themselves in certain circumstances, if the circumstances are peculiar enough...the way a carton of milk will take the flavour of certain strongly spiced foods if it's left open in the refrigerator.

Whilst the food we eat nowadays has much to be grateful to the likes of Marco Polo, Alexander the Great and Vasco De Gama, who would have introduced the tangy flavours of South Africa’s Rainbow Cuisine on his way around the Cape of Good Hope to India, Arabic cuisine, with spices of cinnamon, cloves, saffron and ginger was a lot more enterprising than Western cooking at the time. The medley of colours that the spices offered the food had mystical meanings to the Arabs

The chicken first, because saffron is a lazier flavor in terms of how long it takes to surface and register. Then the roti, because truffle oil and fennel both can overwhelm, unless tempered by a palate already coated with a softer spice.

What is cooking if not an art form? From the mandala of fresh whole foods and spices carefully selected for each dish to the mindful manner in which it is prepared, presented, and enjoyed, every meal is a unique manifestation of your authentic voice.

This is my heart, says the warm sugar on my lips and the salt and spice on his. This is my heart, says the warm sugar of the vanilla. This is the inside of me, murmurs the cinnamon. This is everything that hurts, confesses the bright edge of chili powder, and everything I miss and everything I hope for. This is everything I do not say but that I hold in me whispers that breath of salt at the end. This is my hidden heart of color and sugar the things you might miss if I did not show you they were there.

My nutmeg-caraway shortbread had too many conflicting spices, he would say. And of course, it had nothing to do with leaves. The lemon-raspberry cake decorated with lemon leaves was too tart, and the toffee cupcakes with leaf-shaped maple candy were cloying.

[Lunch] was composed of one of the fish she had caught, evidently rescued from Mogget. This had been grilled with ginger, pepper, and some spice she didn't know, set atop a salad of grains and greenleaf, accompanied by a lightly sparkling clear wine she had to admit was delicious and refreshing.

There will be a cauldron of spiced hot cider, and pumpkin shortbread fingers with caramel and fudge dipping sauces as our freebies, and I've done plenty of special spooky treats. Ladies' fingers, butter cookies the shape of gnarled fingers with almond fingernails and red food coloring on the stump end. I've got meringue ghosts and cups of "graveyard pudding," a dark chocolate pudding layered with dark Oreo cookie crumbs, strewn with gummy worms, and topped with a cookie tombstone. There are chocolate tarantulas, with mini cupcake bodies and legs made out of licorice whips, sitting on spun cotton candy nests. The Pop-Tart flavors of the day are chocolate peanut butter, and pumpkin spice. The chocolate ones are in the shape of bats, and the pumpkin ones in the shape of giant candy corn with orange, yellow, and white icing. And yesterday, after finding a stash of tiny walnut-sized lady apples at the market, I made a huge batch of mini caramel apples.

Then there is the boy who talks out loud to himself and his only subject is food. This is what he sounds like— Meat, stew, potatoes, peppers, roasted turnips, spices, flour to thicken. Cook over low heat. Potato dumplings, edges browned, not burned. Ladle thick gravy on roast. Cabbage galumpkies, noodle kugel, Carrot cake with dates, finely chopped…

Setting my spiced cider down, I put my elbows on my knees and sighed. I loved the solstice, and not just for the food and parties. Cincinnati dropped all of its lights from midnight until sunrise, and it was the only time I ever saw the night sky as it was supposed to be. Anyone thieving during the blackout was dealt with hard, curtailing any problems.

A Wrong Planet Chef always take an interest in the origins of the food he cooks. A particular dish of vegetables, herbs and spices could, for instance, have begun life 5000 years ago on the Indian subcontinent, perhaps in Central India where vegetarian Hindi food is considered as God (Brahman) as it sustains the entire physical, mental, emotional and sensual aspects of the human being. The dish may then have migrated to the Punjab region of the Indian-Pakistan border - The Land of Five Waters - around 250 BC, and from here could have moved on to Western Asia or North Africa as soldiers and merchants moved west with their families into the Eastern parts of the Roman empire, where the cooks would have experimented with new combinations of food, adding fruits, shellfish or poultry to the exotic dish. The dish could then have travelled in any direction heading North through Germany or Sweden to Britain or maybe migrating through Persia or North Africa to Spain and Portugal, creating two very distinct and separate menus but meeting once again in France

Unique to Sichuan, ma is the spicy flavor of a wild tree peppercorn called huajiao—with a taste between peppercorn, caraway, and clove, but so strong that too much will numb the mouth. Two varieties grow in Sichuan, clay red peppercorns and the more perfumey brown ones. La means “hot spice” and is accomplished with small burning red peppers. The combined seasoning, ma-la, defines the taste of Sichuan food.

For nearly a week I neither cooked nor grocery shopped. Instead, all of our various families took Eric and me out for Mexican food, for barbecue, for beignets. We ate cheese biscuits with Rice Krispies, and spiced pecans, and red beans and rice, and gumbo, and all those other things that New Yorkers would turn up their noses at, but New Yorkers don't know everything, do they? This is what Texas, and family, are for.

Back in the day, Marguerite had worked from lists all the time. She had made daily pilgrimages to Dusty's fish shop, and to the Herb Farm for produce; the meat had been delivered. She had prepared stocks, roasted peppers, baked bread, cultivated yogurt, rolled out crusts, whipped up custards, crushed spices. Les Parapluies was unique in that Marguerite had served one four-course menu- starter, salad, entrée, dessert- that changed each day.

She showed you how to make her special adobo recipe- proper adobo, with soy sauce and vinegar and spices- and it tasted exquisite, better than any other grandmother would have made. She offered both meals for free to the carinderia's clientele that day, much to their delight. Sampling your casserole brought them no perceptible changes; eating Lola's adobo left them fresh, eager, and thrumming with energy, exhaustion falling away like a cloak.

I cut our paper dinner with a pair of scissors borrowed from the front desk of the hotel. I cooked with a spice rack box of crayons – sixteen colors. I seasoned the pumpkin pie with orange crayon, and basted the turkey's crisp skin in brown. I was remorseless with my sketchbook abattoir, playing the part of carnivore just as surely as I was play-acting the role of wife. I may as well have been a wax figure in a dollhouse eating the wax-scented food.

HIGH-ALKALINE FOODS Vegetables Beets, Broccoli, Cauliflower, Celery, Cucumbers, Kale, Lettuce, Mushrooms, Onions, Peas, Peppers, Pumpkin, Spinach, Sprouts, Wheatgrass Fruits Apples, Apricots, Avocados, Bananas, Blueberries, Cantaloupe, Cherries (sour), Grapes, Melon, Lemon, Oranges, Peaches, Pears, Pineapple, Raspberries, Strawberries, Watermelon Protein Almonds, Chestnuts, Whey Protein Powder, Tofu Spices Cinnamon, Curry, Ginger, Mustard, Sea Salt

When we are sick, we lose our sense of taste and our appetite. Taste, appetite, and power of digestion are related. Lack of taste indicates fever, disease, low agni, high ama. To improve agni and eliminate disease, it is necessary to improve our sense of taste. This is why spices are such important Ayurvedic herbs. Desire for tasty food indicates hungry agni or disease. The problem is that we have perverted our sense of taste with artificial substances.

Whereas once medieval Europe had adhered to a common Catholic religion, a common Latin language, and common well-spiced cuisine (at least, for the elite), the balkanization of the Christian world along national lines now meant that nations could no longer gather around the same table as easily as before. Even though it would take some years, the Europe-wide fashion for spices-as much as Latin-would be a casualty of Martin Luther's squabble with the bishop of Rome.

The aroma from Mom’s chopped herbs and sprinkled spices swims through the house. The pots are shaking to a boil; the oven is warming. I get Mom to try a few words. And while I am teaching Mom, she is teaching Maxine what a pinch of that and a dab of this means. While we wait for the food to cook, Mom adds in lessons on love and tells Maxine the remedy to a broken heart. Tells her how to move on. Mom looks at me, says, “You paying attention? You’ll need this one day.

He put a pan on the stove and roasted the rumali roti quarters for half a minute on each side just until the butter in the dough sizzled, then placed them on a plate and trickled them with truffle oil. Then he placed a paper-thin slice of heart of fennel dusted with roasted cumin over them. In a bowl next to that, he laid out chicken in the simplest Mughlai sauce of steamed onion in cream with the slightest hint of saffron. Finally, he tucked a perfectly curled papad into the bowl.

That's where the importance of nurturing comes in; the already sculpted personality is not recast, but refined. Loving, caring families can sand and polish, but they can't chip away at a lawn ornament and turn it into Michelangelo's David. Or vice versa. Want another analogy? Regarding personality, I am convinced that at birth the cake is already baked. Nurture is the nuts or frosting, but if you're a spice cake you're a spice cake, and nothing is going to change you into an angel food.

He kisses me, the taste of sugar on my lips, and salt and spice on his. This is my heart, says the warm sugar of the vanilla. This is the inside of me, murmurs the cinnamon. This is everything that hurts, confesses the bright edge of chili powder, and everything I miss and everything I hope for. This is everything I do not say but that I hold in me, whispers that breath of salt at the end. This is my hidden heart of color and sugar, the things you might miss if I did not show you they were there.

Cooking is like playing a violin. The bow is a tool used to play, as is the knives and other tools you use to prepare. (a chef's knife is even held in the same manner) Spices are the notes used in the score. The way the food is cooked and prepared is the rhythm and tempo. The ingredients are the violin themselves, ready to be played upon. The finished dish is the music played to its best melody. All of these things must be applied together at the right pace, manner, and time in order to create a flavourful rush of artwork and beauty.

Hunter's stew is also known as hunter's pot or perpetual stew. It is made in a large pot, and the ingredients are anything you can find. The idea is that it is never finished, never emptied all the way- instead it is topped up perpetually. It is a stew with an unending cycle. It is a stew that can last for years. It dates back to medieval Poland, first made in cauldrons no one bothered to empty or wash. It began with the simmering of game meat- pigeon, hare, hen, pheasant, rabbit- just anything you could get your hands on. It would then be supplemented with foraged vegetables, seasoned with wild herbs. Sometimes spices or even wine would be added. Then, as time went by, additional food scraps and leftovers were thrown in- recently harvested produce, stale hunks of bread, newly slaughtered meat, or beans dried for the winter months. It would exist in perpetuity, always the same, always new. Traditionally the stew has spicy, savory, and sour notes. An element of sourness is absolutely necessary to cut through the rich and intense flavor. It is said to improve with age.

Chief Moroka was not as great an orator as most of the Native chiefs but he excelled in philosophy. In that respect his witty expressions and dry humour were equal to those of Moshueshue, the Basuto King. He spoke in a staccato voice, with short sentences and a stop after each, as though composing the next sentence. His speeches abounded in allegories and proverbial sayings, some traditional and others spontaneous. His own maxims had about them the spice of originality which always provided his auditors with much food for thought. [104]

Finally, we would have been offered either a spring takiawase, meaning "foods boiled or stewed together," or a wanmori (the apex of a tea kaiseki meal) featuring seasonal ingredients, such as a cherry blossom-pink dumpling of shrimp and egg white served in a dashi base accented with udo, a plant with a white stalk and leaves that tastes like asparagus and celery, and a sprig of fresh sansho, the aromatic young leaves from the same plant that bears the seedpods the Japanese grind into the tongue-numbing spice always served with fatty eel.

All meats, intoxicants, condiments, processed and canned foods are highly acidic. Modern science considers dairy mostly acidic but Ayurveda states all dairy products generated from cow's milk to be alkaline. All herbs, spices and most vegetables are alkaline. Avocados and coconuts are highly alkaline as are rock salt, sprouted beans and vegetables like spinach, cucumber, broccoli. Kemp (sea vegetable), horseradish and miso are highly alkaline. All citrus fruits are acidic before ingestion but they act alkaline on the body during and post ingestion.

All meats, intoxicants, condiments, processed and canned foods are very acidic. Modern science considers dairy mostly acidic, but Ayurveda considers all dairy products generated from cow’s milk to be alkaline. All herbs, spices and most vegetables are alkaline. Avocados and coconuts are very alkaline, as are rock salt, sprouted beans and vegetables like spinach, cucumber and broccoli. Kemp (sea vegetable), horseradish and miso are very alkaline. All citrus fruits are acidic before ingestion but they act alkaline on the body during and after ingestion. In

Loaves of fig and pepper bread, of course. But there was also lasagna cooked in miniature pumpkins, and pumpkin-seed brittle. Roasted red pepper soup, and spiced caramel potato cakes. Corn muffins and brown sugar popcorn balls and a dozen cupcakes, each with a different frosting, because what was first frost without frosting? Pear beer and clove ginger ale in dark bottles sat in the icy beverage tub. They ate well into the afternoon, and the more they ate, the more food there seemed to be. Pretzel buns and cranberry cheese and walnuts appearing, just when they thought they'd tasted everything.

and Anna could smell sushi, baked bread, and frying hot dogs. She could even catch the faint tang of Indian spices- not the kinds of spices she was used to, of course, the very specific kind in pandhi curry or masala crab, but then she had never come across those flavors outside the small, beautiful corner of India that her mother had once called home. That said, this place did smell yummy. There was food everywhere she looked: street vendors, bakeries, cafés, take-out places, you name it. Hungry Heart Row, that's what this neighborhood was called, and it seemed its residents had taken that very seriously.

When Jasmine woke that morning she'd been dreaming of breakfast. Not cornflakes or melba toast, skim milk and a sorry slice of apple. No, Jasmine was elbow deep in creamy oatmeal slathered with brown sugar and hot cream. Next, a plate of eggs Sardou: poached eggs nestled sweetly in the baby-smooth bottoms of artichokes and napped with a blushing spiced hollandaise sauce. Jasmine stared up at the ceiling, her mouth a swamp of saliva as she mentally mopped the rest of the hollandaise sauce with a crust of crusty French bread before taking a sip of nutty chicory coffee and reaching for a freshly fried beignet so covered with powdered sugar it made her sneeze.

I don’t know about your parental units, but mine really have it together when it comes to laundry. They have it together in many other ways, such as having a fully stocked fridge at all times—and not just with the basics, like bread, milk, and eggs. I’m talking about luxury spices that you might only see in a wicker basket on Chopped, vegan food items that Oprah has endorsed, and enough produce to make a fresh summer salad whenever the mood strikes. Just like when Honey Boo Boo said everyone is a little bit gay, it seems like every parent is a little bit Gwyneth Paltrow: the Goop Years after the kids leave the house. And Ma and Pa Robinson are no exception.

I didn’t pack very much. Some clothes, some weapons. I threw out the perishable food, and stripped my bed of its sheets and blankets. Akos helped in silence, his arm still wrapped in a bandage. His bag of possessions was already on the table. I had watched him pack some clothes and some of the books I had given him, his favorite pages folded over. Though I had already read all those books, I wanted to open them again just to search out the parts he most treasured; I wanted to read them as if immersed in his mind. “You’re acting weird,” he said once we were finished, and all there was left to do was wait. “I don’t like going home,” I said. It was true, at least. Akos looked around, and shrugged. “Seems like this is your home. There’s more of you in here than anywhere in Voa.” He was right, of course. I was happy that he knew what “more of me” really was--that he might know as much about me, from observation, as I knew about him. And I did know him. I could pick him out in a crowd from his gait alone. I knew the shade of the veins that showed on the backs of his hands. And his favorite knife for chopping iceflowers. And the way his breath always smelled spiced, like hushflower and sendes leaf mixed together. “Maybe next time I’ll do more to my room,” he said. You won’t be back next time, I thought. “Yeah.” I forced a smile. “You should.

My mouth watered as she laid a serving bowl full of steaming kothu chapati on the table. It was a delicious dish made from sliced and shredded Indian flatbreads, or chapatis, garlic, ginger, vegetables, spices, and tonight, Mom's famous chicken curry. The shredded bread resembled noodles- crispy on the edges and full of flavor from the sauce soaked into them. "Can someone help me bring out the rest?" Henry and I went into the kitchen with Mom and returned with green beans with coconut, lemon rice, and a salad called kosambari, made with cucumbers, tomatoes, and soaked dal. Riya and Jules continued bickering, but they quieted down once Mom came in with a bowl of creamy homemade yogurt.

I’m a big believer in cooking your own meals. It makes it much easier not only to ensure that you eat fresh foods but also to follow the second rule of eating (see previous chapter), which advises incorporating as many colors, tastes, textures, and aromas as possible into one’s meal. Beyond those benefits, I feel that cooking celebrates self-respect, and it’s especially important on the Warrior Diet. Through cooking, you can control exactly what you put inside your body. It’s a creative process, where you use trial and error to determine what you like.You can use different herbs and spices to increase or balance flavors, aromas, and textures.You’re not a scavenger on the Warrior Diet.

Madarjoon was reminding Oliver how to set a table, while Benyamin and Alice carried steaming dishes into the dining room in preparation for their dinner. The air was thick with the aroma of saffron and fresh turmeric, cinnamon and salted olive oil; fresh bread was cooling on the kitchen counter beside large plates of fluffy rice, sautéed raisins, heaps of barberries, and sliced almonds. Feta cheese was stacked beside a small mountain of fresh walnuts—still soft and damp—and handfuls of basil, mint, scallions, and radishes. There were spiced green beans, ears of grilled corn, dense soups, bowls of olives, and tricolored salads. There was so much food, in fact, I simply cannot describe it all. But

I can taste hints of coarse-ground cinnamon, cumin, cardamom and cloves!" "Not only that, he used apple wood for his smoke chips! Compared to cherry and other fruit trees, apple wood gives off a milder, sweeter smoke." "Aha! I see! So that's how he was able to smoke the ingredients without overpowering the curry spices!" "Correct! That was the perfect wood to use to highlight the coarse-ground spices he chose." "I added the spice mix to my curing compound too. You should be able to taste the curry spices in all of the smoked ingredients." "The toppings also show an excellent hand! The smoked egg was soft boiled to perfection, its umami flavors delectably concentrated. The yolk is practically jelly!

But beyond the extravagance of Rome's wealthiest citizens and flamboyant gourmands, a more restrained cuisine emerged for the masses: breads baked with emmer wheat; polenta made from ground barley; cheese, fresh and aged, made from the milk of cows and sheep; pork sausages and cured meats; vegetables grown in the fertile soil along the Tiber. In these staples, more than the spice-rubbed game and wine-soaked feasts of Apicius and his ilk, we see the earliest signs of Italian cuisine taking shape. The pillars of Italian cuisine, like the pillars of the Pantheon, are indeed old and sturdy. The arrival of pasta to Italy is a subject of deep, rancorous debate, but despite the legend that Marco Polo returned from his trip to Asia with ramen noodles in his satchel, historians believe that pasta has been eaten on the Italian peninsula since at least the Etruscan time. Pizza as we know it didn't hit the streets of Naples until the seventeenth century, when Old World tomato and, eventually, cheese, but the foundations were forged in the fires of Pompeii, where archaeologists have discovered 2,000-year-old ovens of the same size and shape as the modern wood-burning oven. Sheep's- and cow's-milk cheeses sold in the daily markets of ancient Rome were crude precursors of pecorino and Parmesan, cheeses that literally and figuratively hold vast swaths of Italian cuisine together. Olives and wine were fundamental for rich and poor alike.

Competition is the spice of sports; but if you make spice the whole meal you'll be sick. The simplest single-celled organism oscillates to a number of different frequencies, at the atomic, molecular, sub-cellular, and cellular levels. Microscopic movies of these organisms are striking for the ceaseless, rhythmic pulsation that is revealed. In an organism as complex as a human being, the frequencies of oscillation and the interactions between those frequencies are multitudinous. -George Leonard Learning any new skill involves relatively brief spurts of progress, each of which is followed by a slight decline to a plateau somewhat higher in most cases than that which preceded it…the upward spurts vary; the plateaus have their own dips and rises along the way…To take the master’s journey, you have to practice diligently, striving to hone your skills, to attain new levels of competence. But while doing so–and this is the inexorable–fact of the journey–you also have to be willing to spend most of your time on a plateau, to keep practicing even when you seem to be getting nowhere. (Mastery, p. 14-15). Backsliding is a universal experience. Every one of us resists significant change, no matter whether it’s for the worse or for the better. Our body, brain and behavior have a built-in tendency to stay the same within rather narrow limits, and to snap back when changed…Be aware of the way homeostasis works…Expect resistance and backlash. Realize that when the alarm bells start ringing, it doesn’t necessarily mean you’re sick or crazy or lazy or that you’ve made a bad decision in embarking on the journey of mastery. In fact, you might take these signals as an indication that your life is definitely changing–just what you’ve wanted….Be willing to negotiate with your resistance to change. Our preoccupation with goals, results, and the quick fix has separated us from our own experiences…there are all of those chores that most of us can’t avoid: cleaning, straightening, raking leaves, shopping for groceries, driving the children to various activities, preparing food, washing dishes, washing the car, commuting, performing the routine, repetitive aspects of our jobs….Take driving, for instance. Say you need to drive ten miles to visit a friend. You might consider the trip itself as in-between-time, something to get over with. Or you could take it as an opportunity for the practice of mastery. In that case, you would approach your car in a state of full awareness…Take a moment to walk around the car and check its external condition, especially that of the tires…Open the door and get in the driver’s seat, performing the next series of actions as a ritual: fastening the seatbelt, adjusting the seat and the rearview mirror…As you begin moving, make a silent affirmation that you’ll take responsibility for the space all around your vehicle at all times…We tend to downgrade driving as a skill simply because it’s so common. Actually maneuvering a car through varying conditions of weather, traffic, and road surface calls for an extremely high level of perception, concentration, coordination, and judgement…Driving can be high art…Ultimately, nothing in this life is “commonplace,” nothing is “in between.” The threads that join your every act, your every thought, are infinite. All paths of mastery eventually merge. [Each person has a] vantage point that offers a truth of its own. We are the architects of creation and all things are connected through us. The Universe is continually at its work of restructuring itself at a higher, more complex, more elegant level . . . The intention of the universe is evolution. We exist as a locus of waves that spreads its influence to the ends of space and time. The whole of a thing is contained in each of its parts. We are completely, firmly, absolutely connected with all of existence. We are indeed in relationship to all that is.

I, like, added curry spices to the tomatoes and then firmed it with sodium alginate. Then there's the mousse I made with powdered, freeze-dried foie gras blended with turmeric. The white dollop in the middle is a puree of potatoes and six different types of cheese. Once your mouth has thoroughly cooled from those items, you should totally try the piecrust arches. Oh! I flash froze it first, so it should have a very light, fluffy texture. I kneaded coriander and a few other select spices into the pie dough. It'll cleanse your palate and give your tongue a break. This dish is all about "Thermal Sense," y'know. Molecular gastronomy teaches about the various contrasting temperature sensations foods and spices have. I took those theories and put them together into a single dish.

Um, i-it's Monkfish-Dobujiru Curry." DOBUJIRO A hot stew with monkfish as the main ingredient... it's a recipe that has its roots in the fishing towns of Japan's northern prefectures of Ibaraki and Fukushima. Curry and monkfish? What a strange pairing. What on earth is she thinking? AAAH... "Now I see! This is why she used monkfish! The most unique part of Dobujiru is how it is made by first simmering a monkfish liver- the foie gras of the sea- until it dissolves. Miso paste and sake are then added to stretch the liver and form the base of the broth. But she added curry spices to that... ... to make a "Monkfish-Liver-Curry Miso" base!" "Who would've dreamed that the deep, sticky richness of the liver would meld so well with curry spices! Mmm! I can feel the warmth seeping through my whole body!

The typical smell from skin-on pork belly is completely erased by the spices used. All that reaches the tongue... are the mild sweetness of the fats and the zesty richness of the curry!" "It's amazingly delicious!" "After I parboiled, seasoned and pan seared the pork belly... I braised it in a mixture of oyster sauce, soy sauce, Shaoxing wine and other seasonings. I gave it its fragrance with star anise, ginger and Sichuan pepper." Strange. The meat is incredibly heavy and filling... yet this dish is so easy to eat! Why? "IT'S THE RICE! Now I see! She mixed a dash of rock salt and Sichuan-peppercorn oil into the rice! The refreshing scent and tongue-tingling flavor of the peppercorn oil ameliorates the oiliness of the fats... ... but its spiciness makes you want another bite of the sweet meat... it's a chain reaction!

It was Lola Simeona who served their bestseller: Soup No. 5 was a horrifying concoction of bull testes and spices, yet still was the best broth this side of the city, a popular meal for the adventurous and for those who prize umami above all. Occasionally a new customer would stagger out, pale and green all at once, because Lola Simeona was never shy about telling them exactly what they were eating, and in great detail. If it tasted good, she liked to say, then why would knowing this change anything? Lola sold Soup No. 5 regular at nearly all hours, closing at two a.m., only to begin again at nine the next day. Soup No. 5 regular was a picker-upper, a mood brightener. Soup No. 5 regular put people in cheerful temperaments, ready to face the day with optimism- a surprising side effect, given the cantankerous nature of the chef.

Similarly, Harlem restaurant owner and cook Obie Green, who, like James Brown, was a native of Augusta, Georgia, insisted that soul is cooking with love. “And I cook with soul and feeling.” Bob Jeffries, also a southerner, argued that soul food was down-home food “cooked with care and love—with soul.”57 South Carolina–born culinary writer and cook Verta Mae Grosvenor also makes the argument that the right feelings are essential to making soul food, “and you can’t it get [them] from no recipe book (mine included).” She insists that a good cookbook does not make a good cook. “How a book gon tell you how to cook.” It’s what you “put in the cooking and I don’t mean spices either.” Jeffries also agreed that soul food was made without recipes; it was made with inexpensive ingredients that “any fool would know how to cook” if they grew up eating it.58

It's a layer of Royale ! It's very similar to Japan's Chawanmushi !" *Royale is a savory custard of eggs, consommé and spices baked in a water bath until firm. It's usually cut into fanciful shapes and used as a soup garnish.* "What?!" Mmmm! The savoriness of consommé and porcini mushrooms gushes through the mouth! Its texture its satiny, melting on the tongue in a silky rush! Royale hare and Royale eggs- both kingly dishes have been combined together seamlessly. But that isn't the only thing hidden in this dish! There's also a chestnut confit and an apple and fig puree! The mellow, savory flavor of the egg custard resonates with refreshing notes of sweet and tart from the fruits... ... cutting through the thick richness of the hare meat until it tastes so light you could finish the whole dish in a breeze! All this without losing an ounce of the dish's heavily powerful impact!

How was Houston?" I asked as he set me down. Dad's warm brown eyes crinkled with his smile. "Hot. But the food was great, and I've got a lot to write about." 'What was your favorite bite?" I asked. "Savory or sweet?" he asked, grinning. "Savory first, then sweet," I said, grinning back. "Well, I had an incredible pork shoulder in a brown sugar-tamarind barbecue sauce. It was the perfect combination of sweet and sour." Dad has an amazing palate; he can tell whether the nutmeg in a soup has been freshly grated or not. "That sounds delicious. And the best dessert?" "Hands down, a piece of pecan pie. It made me think of you. I took notes- it was flavored with vanilla bean and cinnamon rum. But I bet we could make one even better." "Ooh," I said. "Maybe with five-spice powder? I think that would go really well with the sweet pecans." "That's my girl, the master of combining unusual flavors.

HEY, LADY? IS THAT PRETTY DECORATION ON THE CURRY... REALLY A PIECE OF CHOCOLATE?!" "How is that even possible?!" "Do you see its delicate, complex design? And they're mass-producing it?! It even has a colorful swirl pattern on it!" "Not even a professional could manage something like this!" "It wasn't hard, really. I just printed those chocolates using a 3-D Food Printer." "A 3-D Printer? Oh, I've heard of those!" "But I didn't know you could use it to print food!" "Dark chocolate makes a perfect accent to curry, y'know. Take some 80 percent cacao chocolate, add a dash of curry spices to it and then print it out in totally cute designs with a 3-D Printer! Put it on top of some piping hot curry, and it will start to melt, adding a rich, colorful undertone to the flavor of the dish!" "Papa, I want some! Buy me that!" "Sure thing! Your papa wants to try it too!" "Mm! The curry itself smells so good I could melt! But then they go and add that beautiful chocolate topping?!" "Man, Totsuki students are amazing!" They like it. "That chocolate is, like, all bonus. It adds a colorful touch and a little sweet scent... without affecting the curry spices you balanced so carefully.

The seafood is so fresh it is otherworldly! Their rich umami flavors swirl together in my mouth like a whirlpool! The pike is transcendental fresh, yes? It's tender and fatty and melty sweet!" "I'm impressed he had the strength to cram this much powerful umami into a single dish! So refined, yet utterly savage. Ryo Kurokiba has reached a new pinnacle!" "That looks sooo good!" "But still, do all Japan pike have this much flavor in season?" "Good point. Not all do. How did he manage to create this strong of a flavor while using hardly any seasonings? Hm? Wait... it's faint, but I smell hints of a refreshing scent. A scent that is not seafood!" "It is the fragrance of herbs." "Exactly! I added a pat of this to the dish!" "Aha! Herb butter! Finely chopped herbs and spices are mixed into softened butter... ... and then wrapped up and chilled in the refrigerator for a day to allow the flavors to meld." "I stuck a pat of homemade herb butter into each wrap right before I put 'em in the oven. Baking on low heat made the butter melt slowly... ... allowing its richness to seep into every nook and cranny of the entire dish!" Both flavor and fragrance have the punch of an exploding warhead! What an impeccably violent dish!

Tender poached egg. Creamy mashed potatoes. And the thick layer of hot, melted cheese! Those are all incredibly delicious, but what takes the cake is the roux! It's been made in a VICHYSSOISE style!" VICHYSSOISE Boiled potatoes, onions, leeks and other ingredients are pureed with cream and soup stock to make this potage. It's often served chilled. Its creation is generally credited to Louis Diat, a French chef at the Ritz Carlton in New York, who first put it on the hotel's menu in 1917. "Amazing! It looks like a thick, heavy dish that would sit in the stomach like lead, but it's so easy to eat!" "The noodles! It's the udon noodles, along with the coriander powder, that makes it feel so much lighter! Coriander is known for its fresh, almost citrusy scent and its mildly spicy bite. It goes exceptionally well with the cumin kneaded into the noodles, each spice working to heighten the other's fragrance. AAAH! It's immensely satisfying!" "I have also included dill, vichyssoise's traditional topping. Dry roasting the dill seeds together with the cumin seeds made a spice mix that gave a strong aroma to the roux." "Hm! Fat noodles in a thick, creamy roux. Eating them is much the same experience as having dipping noodles. What an amazing concept to arrive at from a century-old French soup recipe!

The spicy tingle that prickles at the nose is from the alkaloid piperine that's present in abundance in black pepper! Together with the pyrazine that develops when paprika powder is heated, the two aromas meld together and form the strong base of the dish's overall scent! The primary herbs used to ameliorate the gamy smell of the bear meat is thyme! The strong, herby scent of thymol- the active component of thyme- beautifully erases any stink the meat had! Then, uh... there's the cayenne and the oregano... and... uh... The oregano, and... "Aaaah! I can't! I just can't! Anytime I try to think, my mind just screams that it wants more!" Exquisite! Every last wisp of the bear meat's scent has been transformed into a powerfully savory flavor! The delicate complexity of the fragrance and the deep layers of the umami flavor... there is no denying it. "This dish... surpasses Soma Yukihira's." "I rubbed the bear meat with salt, my Cajun spice blend and other spices. I made sure to wrap it in a nice, thick coat of batter when I fried it up too. Plus, when I marinated it before battering it, I used plenty of juniper berries in the marinade. I ground them in a spice grinder first to really bring out their scent. Waves of juicy flavor so rich and refined that they even have a hint of sweetness to them should gush out of the bear meat with every bite.

The more I experimented, the more I wanted to discover flavor, texture, scent. Gently toasting spices. Mixing herbs. My immediate instincts were toward anything like comfort food, the hallmarks of which were a moderate warmth and a sloppy, squelching quality: soups, stews, casseroles, tagines, goulashes. I glazed cauliflower with honey and mustard, roasted it alongside garlic and onions to a sweet gold crisp, then whizzed it up in a blender. I graduated to more complicated soups: Cuban black bean required slow cooking with a full leg of ham, the meat falling almost erotically away from the bone, swirled up in a thick, savory goo. Italian wedding soup was a favorite, because it looked so fundamentally wrong- the egg stringy and half cooked, swimming alongside thoughtlessly tossed-in stale bread and not-quite-melted strips of Parmesan. But it was delicious, the peculiar consistency and salty heartiness of it. Casseroles were an exercise in patience. I'd season with sprigs of herbs and leave them ticking over, checking up every half hour or so, thrilled by the steamy waves of roasting tomatoes and stewed celery when I opened up the oven. Seafood excited me, but I felt I had too much to learn. The proximity of Polish stores resulted in a weeklong obsession with bigos- a hunter's stew made with cabbage and meat and garnished with anything from caraway seeds to juniper berries.

That knife! It looks similar to a machete-like weapon used in India- the Kukri! He's using it to chop leeks, ginger and some herbs... Which he's tossing into a pot of rich chicken stock!" "Ah! Now he's grinding his spices!" Cross! "What?! He's crossing different implements in every step of his recipe?! Can he even do that?!" "I recognize that mortar and pestle. It's the kind they use in India to grind spices." "Oh gosh... I can already smell the fragrance from here!" He clearly knows just how much to grind each spice... ... and to toast each in a little oil to really bring out its fragrance! "Ah, I see! What he has steaming on that other burner is shark fin!" "From Indian cuisine, we dive straight into something very Chinese! Cross! Saiba x Mò Liú Zhâo!" "What the heck? He's stroking the fin... ... quickly running the claws along its grain!" Ah! I see what he's doing! Shark fin by itself is flavorless. Even in true Chinese cuisine... ...it's simmered in Paitan stock or oyster sauce first to give it a stronger, more concentrated umami punch. But by using those claws, he can't skip that step... ... and directly infuse the fin with umami flavor compounds! "Saiba... Cross..." "Aaaah! That implement! I recognize that one! Eishi Tsukasa!" Tsukasa Senpai's Super-Sized Grater-Sword! "He took a huge lump of butter... ... and is grating it down into shavings at unbelievable speed!"

If loneliness or sadness or happiness could be expressed through food, loneliness would be basil. It’s not good for your stomach, dims your eyes, and turns your mind murky. If you pound basil and place a stone over it, scorpions swarm toward it. Happiness is saffron, from the crocus that blooms in the spring. Even if you add just a pinch to a dish, it adds an intense taste and a lingering scent. You can find it anywhere but you can’t get it at any time of the year. It’s good for your heart, and if you drop a little bit in your wine, you instantly become drunk from its heady perfume. The best saffron crumbles at the touch and instantaneously emits its fragrance. Sadness is a knobby cucumber, whose aroma you can detect from far away. It’s tough and hard to digest and makes you fall ill with a high fever. It’s porous, excellent at absorption, and sponges up spices, guaranteeing a lengthy period of preservation. Pickles are the best food you can make from cucumbers. You boil vinegar and pour it over the cucumbers, then season with salt and pepper. You enclose them in a sterilized glass jar, seal it, and store it in a dark and dry place. WON’S KITCHEN. I take off the sign hanging by the first-floor entryway. He designed it by hand and silk-screened it onto a metal plate. Early in the morning on the day of the opening party for the cooking school, he had me hang the sign myself. I was meaning to give it a really special name, he said, grinning, flashing his white teeth, but I thought Jeong Ji-won was the most special name in the world. He called my name again: Hey, Ji-won. He walked around the house calling my name over and over, mischievously — as if he were an Eskimo who believed that the soul became imprinted in the name when it was called — while I fried an egg, cautiously sprinkling grated Emmentaler, salt, pepper, taking care not to pop the yolk. I spread the white sun-dried tablecloth on the coffee table and set it with the fried egg, unsalted butter, blueberry jam, and a baguette I’d toasted in the oven. It was our favorite breakfast: simple, warm, sweet. As was his habit, he spread a thick layer of butter and jam on his baguette and dunked it into his coffee, and I plunked into my cup the teaspoon laced with jam, waiting for the sticky sweetness to melt into the hot, dark coffee. I still remember the sugary jam infusing the last drop of coffee and the moist crumbs of the baguette lingering at the roof of my mouth. And also his words, informing me that he wanted to design a new house that would contain the cooking school, his office, and our bedroom. Instead of replying, I picked up a firm red radish, sparkling with droplets of water, dabbed a little butter on it, dipped it in salt, and stuck it into my mouth. A crunch resonated from my mouth. Hoping the crunch sounded like, Yes, someday, I continued to eat it. Was that the reason I equated a fresh red radish with sprouting green tops, as small as a miniature apple, with the taste of love? But if I cut into it crosswise like an apple, I wouldn't find the constellation of seeds.

So this is what a black pepper pork bun really tastes like!" The bun is flaky, and crispy, like a piecrust! The juicy pork filling is seasoned with just enough black pepper to give it a good bite! All the minced green onion mixed in with it makes it even better! The whole thing is overflowing with the mellow and meaty umami goodness of ground pork! "IT'S SOOO GOOD!" "Look! There it is! That's Soma Yukihira's booth!" "Really? Interesting! Wasn't he one of the finalists in this year's Classic?" "Hmm. This meat filling is way too weak as is. Juiciness, richness, umami... it's way short on all of those. The bun itself is probably good enough. Maybe I should up the ratio of rib meat..." "Yo. How're the test recipes going? There are a whole lot of other exclusively Chinese seasonings you can try, y'know. Oyster sauce, Xo spicy seafood sauce and a whole mountain of spices. I did a Dongpo Pork Bowl for the Classic, so I know all too well how deep that particular subject gets." "Oh, right! Now I see it. Chinese "Ma-La" flavor is just another combination of spices! Everything I learned about spices from my curry dish for the Prelims... ... I should be able to use in this too! Thanks, Nikumi!" "H-hey! Don't grab my hand like that!" How about this? Fresh-ground black pepper... ... and some mellow, fragrant sesame oil! When you're making anything Chinese, you can't forget the five-spice powder. I'll also knead in some star anise to enhance the flavor of the pork! Then add sliced green onions and finish by wrapping the mixture in the dough

Lobster tomalley fish innards! The richness of all the ingredients have melded into one powerful whole! What a robust, almost wild flavor! Next, let's try the broth together with the noodles... here I go! Ye gods! I have to hold myself together or I'll black out! As it is, that was nearly a knockout punch! Who knew umami flavor could be this powerfully violent! How about the toppings? I see three varieties of shredded cheese. Rouille... *Rouille is a type of aioli, usually consisting of olive oil, breadcrumbs and various spices like garlic and chili flakes. It, along with croutons and cheese, is a standard garnish to Soupe de Poisson.* And are those tempura flakes? Aha! He must have added those as a crouton analogue! And finally the rusk! It looks like it's been spread with Échiré butter and well toasted. Perhaps it was added as a palate cleanser for after that strong, rich broth. WHAT?! What an intense, aromatic flavor! But where is all of this coming from?! Hm? What are these pink flakes in the butter? Wait, now I see! Those shells he crushed! He had them dried to increase their umami flavor!" "It's about time you noticed. I added those powdered shells to everything in this dish, from the soup stock to the butter on the rusk." "See, the umami flavor in lobsters and shrimp comes from three elements: glycine, arginine and proline. Of all seafood, crustaceans carry the highest concentration of umami components, y'know. Since Ryo took that powdered lobster shell- chock full of those three umami components- and added it to every element of the dish... ... it's, like, only natural that it's flavor is going to have a strong umami punch.

But the one piece of this dish that plays the biggest role of all... is this wrapping around the chicken breast... the Croûte!" Croûte! A base of bread or pie dough seasoned with savory spices, croûte can refer either to the dough itself or a dish wrapped in it. It's a handy addition that can boost the aroma, textures and presentation of a dish without overpowering its distinctive flavors! "You are correct. Therein lies the greatest secret of my dish. Given the sudden measurements to the original plan and my need to create an entirely different dish... ... the Croûte I had intended to use to wrap the chicken breast required two very specific additions. Those two ingredients were... FINELY MINCED SQUID LEGS... ... AND PEANUT BUTTER." "NO WAY! SQUID LEGS AND PEANUT BUTTER?!" "Yes! Squid legs and peanut butter! Appetizer and main dish! There is no greater tie that could bind our two dishes together!" Peanut butter's mild richness adds subtle depth to the natural body of the chicken, making it an excellent secret seasoning. And the moderately salty bitterness of the squid legs is extremely effective in tying the Croûte's flavor together with the meaty juiciness of the chicken! "Even an abominable mash-up that Yukihira has tinkered with for ages... ... can be transformed into elegant gourmet beauty when put in my capable hands. The Jidori chicken breasts and the squid and peanut butter Croûte... those are the two pillars of my dish! To support them, I revised all the seasonings for the sauces and garnishes... ... so that after you tasted Soma Yukihira's dish... ... the deliciousness of my own dish would ring across your tongues as powerfully as possible!

Fresh seafood stock made from shrimp and crab... It's hot and spicy- and at the same time, mellow and savory! Visions of lush mountains, cool springs and the vast ocean instantly come to mind! She brought out the very best flavors of each and every ingredient she used! "I started with the fresh fish and veggies you had on hand... ... and then simmered them in a stock I made from seafood trimmings until they were tender. Then I added fresh shrimp and let it simmer... seasoning it with a special blend I made from spices, herbs like thyme and bay leaves, and a base of Worcestershire sauce. I snuck in a dash of soy sauce, too, to tie the Japanese ingredients together with the European spices I used. Overall, I think I managed to make a curry sauce that is mellow enough for children to enjoy and yet flavorful enough for adults to love!" "Yum! Good stuff!" "What a surprise! To take the ingredients we use here every day and to create something out of left field like this!" "You got that right! This is a really delicious dish, no two ways about it. But what's got me confused... ... is why it seems to have hit him way harder than any of us! What on earth is going on?!" This... this dish. It... it tastes just like home! It looks like curry, but it ain't! It's gumbo!" Gumbo is a family dish famously served in the American South along the shores of the Gulf of Mexico. A thick and spicy stew, it's generally served over steamed rice. At first glance, it closely resembles Japan's take on curry... but the gumbo recipe doesn't call for curry powder. Its defining characteristic is that it uses okra as its thickener. *A possible origin for the word "gumbo" is the Bantu word for okra-Ngombu.*

Hisako Arato... ... is an expert at medicinal cooking!" MEDICINAL COOKING Based on both Western and Eastern medicinal practices, it melds together food and pharmaceutical science. It is a culinary specialty that incorporates natural remedies and Chinese medicine into recipes to promote overall dietary health. "Besides the four traditional natural remedies, I also added Jiāng Huáng, Dà huí Xiāng, and Xiāo huí Xiāng... ... to create my own original 'Medicinal Spice Mix.' Steeping them in water for an hour drew out their medicinal properties. Then I added the mutton and various vegetables and boiled them until they were tender. Some Shaoxing wine and a cilantro garnish at the end gave it a strong, refreshing fragrance. " "That's right! Now that you mention it, there's a whole lot of overlap between medicinal cooking and curry. The medicinal herbs Jiāng Huáng, Dà huí Xiāng, and Xiāo huí Xiāng are commonly called turmeric, star anise and fennel! All three of those are spices any good curry's gotta have!" "By basing her dish on those spices, she was able to tie her medicinal cooking techniques into the curry. That makes this a dish that only she could create!" "Yes. This is my version of a Medicinal Curry... It's called 'Si wu Tang Mutton Curry'!" "I can feel it! I can feel the healing energies flowing through my body!" "Delicious! The spices highlight the strong, robust flavor of the mutton perfectly! And the mild sweetness of the vegetables has seeped into the roux, mellowing the overall flavor!" Thanks to Si wu Tang, just a few bites have the curry's heat spreading through my whole body!" "Yes. Si wu Tang is said to soothe the kidneys, boost inner chi... ... and purge both body and mind of impurities!

Each bite is a tidal wave of savory, fatty eel juices... ... made fresh and tangy by the complementary flavors of olive oil and tomato! ...! It's perfect! This dish has beautifully encapsulated the superbness of Capitone Eel!" "Capitone specifically means 'Large Female Eel'! It's exactly this kind of eel that is served during Natale season from Christmas to New Year's. Compared to normal eels, the Capitone is large, thick and juicy! In fact, it's considered a delicacy!" "Yes, I've heard of them! The Capitone is supposed to be significantly meatier than the standard Anguilla." *Anguilla is the Italian word for regular eels.* "Okay. So the Capitone is special. But is it special enough to make a dish so delicious the judges swoon?" "No. The secret to the Capitone's refined deliciousness in this dish lies with the tomatoes. You used San Marzanos, correct?" "Ha Ragione! (Exactly!) I specifically chose San Marzano tomatoes as the core of my dish!" Of the hundreds of varieties of tomato, the San Marzano Plum Tomato is one of the least juicy. Less juice means it makes a less watery and runny sauce when stewed! "Thanks to the San Marzano tomatoes, this dish's sauce remained thick and rich with a marvelously full-bodied taste. The blend of spices he used to season the sauce has done a splendid job of highlighting the eel's natural flavors as well." "You can't forget the wondrous polenta either. Crispy on the outside and creamy in the middle. There's no greater garnish for this dish." *Polenta is boiled cornmeal that is typically served as porridge or baked into cakes.* "Ah. I see. Every ingredient of his dish is intimately connected to the eel. Garlic to increase the fragrance, onion for condensed sweetness... ... and low-juice tomatoes. Those are the key ingredients.

The party spills over with guests, from the ballroom to the front lawn. It’s nighttime, but the house is lit up, bright as the sun. All around me diamonds glitter. We’ve reached that tipping point where everyone is sloshed enough to smile, but not so much they start to slur. There’s almost too many people, almost too much alcohol. Almost too much wealth in one room. It reminds me of Icarus, with his wings of feather and wax. If Icarus had a five-hundred-person guest list for his graduation party. It reminds me of flying too close to the sun. I snag a flute of champagne from one of the servers, who pretends not to see. The bubbles tickle my nose as I take a detour through the kitchen. Rosita stands at the stove, stirring her world-famous jambalaya in a large cast iron pot. The spices pull me close. I reach for a spoon. “Is it ready yet?” She slaps my hand away. “You’ll ruin your pretty dress. It’ll be ready when it’s ready.” We have caterers who make food for all our events, but since this is my graduation party, Rosita agreed to make my favorite dish. She’s going to spoon some onto little puff pastry cups and call it a canape. I try to pout, but everything is too perfect for that. Only one thing is missing from this picture. I give her a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Rosita. Have you seen Daddy?” “Where he always is, most likely.” That’s what I’m afraid of. Then I’m through the swinging door that leads into the private side of the house. I pass Gerty, our event planner, who’s muttering about guests who aren’t on the invite list. I head up the familiar oak staircase, breathing in the scent of our house. There’s something so comforting about it. I’m going to miss everything when I leave for college. At the top of the stairs, I hear men’s voices. That isn’t unusual. I’m around the corner from Daddy’s offic

Now alongside Scovell, John eased preserved peaches out of galliot pots of syrup and picked husked walnuts from puncheons of salt. He clarified butter and poured it into rye-paste coffins. From the Master Cook, John learned to set creams with calves' feet, then isinglass, then hartshorn, pouring decoctions into egg-molds to set and be placed in nests of shredded lemon peel. To make cabbage cream he let the thick liquid clot, lifted off the top layer, folded it then repeated the process until the cabbage was sprinkled with rose water and dusted with sugar, ginger and nutmeg. He carved apples into animals and birds. The birds themselves he roasted, minced and folded into beaten egg whites in a foaming forcemeat of fowls. John boiled, coddled, simmered and warmed. He roasted, seared, fried and braised. He poached stock-fish and minced the meats of smoked herrings while Scovell's pans steamed with ancient sauces: black chawdron and bukkenade, sweet and sour egredouce, camelade and peppery gauncil. For the feasts above he cut castellations into pie-coffins and filled them with meats dyed in the colors of Sir William's titled guests. He fashioned palaces from wafers of spiced batter and paste royale, glazing their walls with panes of sugar. For the Bishop of Carrboro they concocted a cathedral. 'Sprinkle salt on the syrup,' Scovell told him, bent over the chafing dish in his chamber. A golden liquor swirled in the pan. 'Very slowly.' 'It will taint the sugar,' John objected. But Scovell shook his head. A day later they lifted off the cold clear crust and John split off a sharp-edged shard. 'Salt,' he said as it slid over his tongue. But little by little the crisp flake sweetened on his tongue. Sugary juices trickled down his throat. He turned to the Master Cook with a puzzled look. 'Brine floats,' Scovell said. 'Syrup sinks.' The Master Cook smiled. 'Patience, remember? Now, to the glaze...

Step 6. Ensure That Your Environment Supports Your Goals Some people subscribe to the philosophy that if the cure doesn’t hurt, it can’t be working. When it comes to permanent changes in diet and lifestyle, the opposite philosophy is the best: The less painful the program, the more likely it is to succeed. Take steps to make your new life easier. Modify your daily behavior so that your surroundings work for you, not against you. Have the right pots, pans, and utensils to cook with; have the right spices, herbs, and seasonings to make your meals delicious; have your cookbooks handy and review them often to make your dishes lively and appealing. Make sure you give yourself the time to shop for food and cook your meals. Change your life to support your health. Don’t sacrifice your health for worthless conveniences. Avoid temptation. Very few people could quit smoking without ridding their house of cigarettes. Alcoholics avoid bars to stop drinking. Protect yourself by protecting your environment. Decrease the time when you are exposed to rich foods to avoid testing your “willpower.” One of the best ways to do this is to throw all the rich foods out of the house. Just as important is to replace harmful foods with those used in the McDougall Program for Maximum Weight Loss. If many of your meals are eaten away from home, make the situations meet your needs. Go to restaurants that offer at least one delicious, nutritious item. Ask the waiter to remove the butter and olive oil from the table. Accept invitations to dinner from friends who eat and live healthfully. Bring healthful foods with you whenever possible. Keep those people close who support your efforts and do not try to sabotage you. Ask family and friends to stop giving you boxes of candy and cakes as gifts. Instead suggest flowers, a card, or a fruit basket. Tell your mother that if she really loves you she’ll feed you properly, forgoing her traditional beef stroganoff.

I see bacon, green peppers, mushrooms... those are all found in Napolitan Spaghetti. I guess instead of the standard ketchup, he's used curry roux for the sauce? The noodles look similar to fettuccini." "Hm. I'm not seeing anything else that stands out about it. Given how fun and amusing the calzone a minute ago was... ... the impact of this one's a lot more bland and boring..." W-what the heck? Where did this heavy richness come from? It hits like a shockwave straight to the brain! "Chicken and beef stocks for the base... with fennel and green cardamom for fragrance! What an excellent, tongue-tingling curry sauce! It clings well to the broad fettuccini noodles too!" "For extra flavor is that... soy sauce?" "No, it's tamari soy sauce! Tamari soy sauce is richer and less salty than standard soy sauce, with a more full-bodied sweetness to it. Most tamari is made on Japan's eastern seaboard. " "That's not all either! I'm picking up the mellow hints of cheese! But I'm not seeing a single shred of any kind of cheese in here. Where's it hiding?" "Allow me to tell you, sir. First, look at the short edge of a noodle, please." ?! What on earth?! This noodle's got three layers!" "For the outer layers, I kneaded turmeric into the pasta dough. But for the inner layer, I added Parmesan cheese!" "I see! It's the combination of the tamari soy sauce and the parmesan cheese that gives this dish its incredible richness!" "Yeah, but wait a minute! If you go kneading cheese right into the noodles, wouldn't it just melt back out when you boiled them?" No... that's why they're in three layers! With the cheese in the middle, the outer layers prevented it from melting out! The deep, rich curry sauce, underscored with the flavor of tamari soy sauce... ... and the chewy noodles, which hit you with the mellow, robust taste of parmesan cheese with every bite! Many people are familiar with the idea of coating cream cheese in soy sauce... ... but who would have thought parmesan cheese would match this well with tamari soy sauce!

The moment I put it in my mouth and bit down... ... an exquisite and entirely unexpected flavor exploded in my mouth! It burst across my tongue, rushed up through my nose... ... and rose all the way up to my brain!" "No! It can't be!" "How is that possible?! Anyone with eyes can see there's nothing special to that dish! Its fragrance was entirely inferior to Asahi's dish from the get-go!" "That there. That's what it is. I knew something wasn't right." "Asahi?" "Something felt off the instant the cloche was removed. His dish is fried rice. It uses tons of butter, soy sauce and spices. Yet it hardly had any aroma!" "Good catch. The secret is in one of the five grand cuisine dishes I melded together... A slightly atypical take on the French Oeuf Mayonnaise. ." "Ouef Mayonnaise, or eggs and mayonnaise, is an appetizer you can find in any French bistro. Hard-boiled eggs are sliced, coated with a house-blend mayo and garnished with vegetables. Though, in your dish, I can tell you chose very soft-boiled eggs instead. Hm. Very interesting, Soma Yukihira. He took those soft-boiled eggs and some homemade mayo and blended them into a sauce...... which he then poured over his steamed rice and tossed until each and every grain was coated, its flavor sealed inside! To cook them so that each individual grain is completely covered... ... takes incredibly fast and precise wok handling over extremely high heat! No average chef could manage that feat!" " Whaaa?! Ah! It's so thin I didn't notice it at first glance, but there it is, a very slight glaze! That makes each of these grains of rice a miniature, self-contained Omurice! The moment you bite into them, that eggy coating is broken... ... releasing all the flavors and aromas of the dish onto your palate in one explosive rush!" No wonder! That's what entranced the judges. That sudden, powerful explosion of flavor! "Yep! Even when it's served, my dish still hides its fangs. Only when you bite into it does it bite back with all it's got. I call it my Odorless Fried Rice.

Hugo’s Prizewinning Praline Pumpkin Pie What does it take to turn out a prizewinning pie? Lots of “mouth feel,” as the saying goes. When the pie cracked as it baked, we added a last-minute ring of pecan praline and that convenient coverall, a small mountain of brandy whipped cream, for first prize in the St. Michaels contest, restaurant division. 9-inch deep-dish pie shell FOR THE FILLING 1 15-ounce can pumpkin, unsweetened 1 cup brown sugar, loosely packed 2 teaspoons cinnamon* ¼ teaspoon cloves* 2 teaspoons fresh ginger, grated ¼ teaspoon salt 2/3 cup whipping cream 2/3 cup milk 4 eggs FOR THE PRALINE 3 tablespoons flour 3 tablespoons brown sugar 2 tablespoons butter, softened ¾ cup pecan halves FOR THE CREAM ½ pint whipping cream 1 tablespoon sugar 1 tablespoon brandy Heat the oven to 400 degrees. Partly bake the pie shell on the middle oven rack for about 10 minutes until it looks set. In a food processor, blend the pumpkin, sugar, spices, and salt for one minute. In a heavy saucepan, cook this pumpkin mixture at a simmer, stirring constantly, for about 5 minutes. Remove pumpkin from the heat and stir in the cream and milk. Whisk eggs to combine whites and yolks and blend thoroughly into the pumpkin mixture. Pour this into the pie shell, adding any extra filling after the pie has baked for about 5 minutes. Bake the pie on the lower oven rack for about 20 minutes and prepare the praline. In a small bowl, combine the flour, sugar, and butter and stir in the pecans. Remove the pie from the oven and spoon the pecan mixture in a circle around the edge of the pie, inside the crust, and return it to the oven. Continue baking for about 10 minutes more until the filling is puffed and wiggles very slightly when the pie is gently shaken. Cool on a wire rack. Whip the cream and sugar together until stiff, then stir in the brandy. When the pie is completely cool, mound the cream on top, inside the ring of pecans. Serve right away or refrigerate. Serves 6 to 8. *Freshly ground cinnamon and cloves are best, but spice straight from the jar will do.

There was something about the scent of apple, she thought, that was truly unique to just that fruit-- it really did touch on so many childhood memories. Probably because it was among the first baby foods so many ate. "This is going to be so very popular," she said thoughtfully. "I might tone down some of the earth notes, maybe bring up some of the brightness." Dylan observed as she made some exacting adjustments to the dials while simultaneously watching their correlating meters. Grace took a few quick sniffs, smiled, and then held the nose cup to his face again. He put his hand on hers and drew the cup even closer. "I think this balance would make a lovely cider or a blend to an organic cinnamon and apple oatmeal," she said. "Yes," said Dylan, nodding. "Hot from the pan on a cold autumn morning. I can absolutely smell that." "Let's bring up a spice note, warm up the composition a bit." Watching his face, her left hand still with his, her right hand reaching out to the dials, Grace adjusted the machine, and she could see from his face when she was hitting just the right notes. Dylan started laughing. "What?" she asked happily. "I smell my mother's apple pie." He pressed his warm hand to hers on the cup as he inhaled. "That's amazing!" Then he grabbed her hand and moved the cup toward her. "Here, you have to try this." Their hands still together, she inhaled. "Oh, this 'is' amazing. Yum." Grace reached for a dial and adjusted it. "I think I can bring up a butter note in here." A blissful expression came over her face as she sniffed the computer's new modulation. "Try this," she said, moving the cup toward Dylan. Eagerly, he leaned in to her, his head nearly against hers, their hair touching as she held the nose cup out for him. He took in a whiff. "How about just a little more butter?" She adjusted a dial and leaned even closer, so that they were both taking in the scent from the one nose cup. Grace turned to him and they locked eyes, their faces together, their hands together on the nose cup before them, which eased forth the intoxicating aroma of hot apple pie.

A Mediterranean flatbread, the pita is baked at a high temperature so that puffy pockets form in the middle, which can then be stuffed with meat or beans. He did the same thing that Secretary Girl did with her turtle burger bun... ... picking something that would keep the meat juices from dripping out the bottom! Hmm. You used a handmade Tzatziki sauce to ameliorate the smelliness of the kebab meat and to create a mild base to make the spices stand out. And the burger patty... ... is kofta! A Middle Eastern meatloaf of ground beef and lamb mixed with onions and plentiful spices, its highly fragrant aroma hits the nose hard! Its scent and umami flavor are powerful enough to bring tears to the eyes!" W-what is going on here?! How could they eat all that greasy, heavy meat so quickly and easily?! "Here. Let me give you a lesson. Four things are required for a good burger. A bun, a patty, some kind of sauce and... ...pickles. The sharp smell and tart flavor of pickles is what highlights the meaty umami of the patty. Pickles are a hidden but key component of the best burgers! From what I could tell, you used ginger sticks as your pickle analogue... ... but that was a weak choice." "What?! Then what did you choose that's so much better?!" "The pickle type that I picked for my burger... ...is achaar." "Achaar?" "What kind of pickle is that?" ACHAAR South Asian in origin, achaar consists of fruits or vegetables pickled in mustard oil or brine, and then mixed with a variety of spices. Sometimes called Indian pickles, achaar is strongly tart and spicy. This is achaar I made with onions. The spicy scent of the mustard oil makes the meaty umami of the kofta patty really stands out. For the tartness, I used amchoor- also known as mango powder- a citrusy powder made from dried unripe mangoes. But that's just the base. I added lemon juice to bolster the citrusy flavor of the amchoor... ... and then some garlic, ginger and chili peppers to give it an aroma that tickles the nose. Cloves. Cumin seeds. Black pepper. Paprika. I even added a dab of honey to give it a hint of sweetness.

A rich, thick mix of chicken and beef bouillon! Ground beef and onions sautéed in butter until savory and tender, their umami-filled juices soaking into the rice! The creamy risotto melding into one with the soft, mildly sweet egg! "Mmm! It's practically a knockout punch!" "The clincher appears to be this sauce. Oyster sauce accented with a touch of honey, its mildly tart flavor is thick and heavy. Together with the curry risotto, it creates two different layers of flavor!" "I see! While Hayama's dish was a bomb going from no aroma to powerful aroma... ... this dish is instead an induced explosion! The differing fragrances from the inner risotto and the outer sauce come at you in waves, tempting you into that next bite!" But that's not all. How did he make the flavor this deep? The strong aroma and hint of bitterness means he used cumin and cardamom. The sting on the tongue comes from cloves. I can smell fragments of several spices, but those are all just surface things. Where is this full-bodied depth that ties it all together coming from?! Wait, it's... ... mango. "Mango chutney." "Chutney?! Is that all it took to give this dish such a deep flavor?!" CHUTNEY Also spelled "Chatney" or "Chatni," chutney is a South Asian condiment. Spices and herbs are mixed with mashed fruit or vegetables and then simmered into a paste. A wide variety of combinations are possible, resulting in chutneys that can be sweet, spicy or even minty. "I used my family's homemade mango chutney recipe! I mixed a dollop of this in with the rice when I steamed it. The mango acts as an axle, running through and connecting the disparate flavors of all the spices and giving a deeper, full-bodied flavor to the overall dish. In a way, it's practical, applied spice tech!"In India where it originated, chutneys are always served on the side as condiments. It's only in Japan that chutney is added directly into a curry." "Huh!" "Oh, wow." "It's unconventional to say the least, from the standpoint of original Indian curry. However, by using the chutney..." "... he massively improved the flavor and richness of the overall dish... ... without resorting to using an excess of oils or animal products!

It's basty!" "There's definitely a soup underneath the crust. I see carrots. Gingko nuts. Mushrooms. And... Shark fin! Simmered until it's falling apart!" Aah! It's all too much! I-I don't care if I burn my mouth... I want to dive in right now! Mm! Mmmm! UWAAAAH! "Incredible! The shark fin melts into a soft wave of warm umami goodness on the tongue... ...with the crispy piecrust providing a delectably crunchy contrast!" "Mmm... this piecrust shows all the signs of the swordsmanship he stole from Eishi Tsukasa too." Instead of melting warm butter to mix into the flour, he grated cold butter into granules and blended them... ... to form small lumps that then became airy layers during the baking, making the crust crispier and lighter. A light, airy crust like that soaks up the broth, making it the perfect complement to this dish! "Judge Ohizumi, what's that "basty" thing you were talking about?" "It's a dish in a certain style of cooking that's preserved for centuries in Nagasaki- Shippoku cuisine." "Shippoku cuisine?" Centuries ago, when Japan was still closed off from the rest of the world, only the island of Dejima in Nagasaki was permitted to trade with the West. There, a new style of cooking that fused Japanese, Chinese and Western foods was born- Shippoku cuisine! One of its signature dishes is Basty, which is a soup covered with a lattice piecrust. *It's widely assumed that Basty originated from the Portuguese word "Pasta."* "Shippoku cuisine is already a hybrid of many vastly different cooking styles, making it a perfect choice for this theme!" "The lattice piecrust is French. Under it is a wonderfully savory Chinese shark fin soup. And the soup's rich chicken broth and the vegetables in it have all been thoroughly infused with powerfully aromatic spices... ... using distinctively Indian spice blends and techniques!" "Hm? Wait a minute. There's more than just shark fin and vegetables in this soup. This looks just like an Italian ravioli! I wonder what's in it? ?!" "Holy crap, look at it stretch!" "What is that?! Mozzarella?! A mochi pouch?!" "Nope! Neither! That's Dondurma. Or as some people call it... ... Turkish ice cream. A major ingredient in Dondurma is salep, a flour made from the root of certain orchids. It gives the dish a thick, sticky texture. The moist chewiness of ravioli pasta melds together with the sticky gumminess of the Dondurma... ... making for an addictively thick and chewy texture!

Birch bark lends a mild wintergreen flavor to brewed sodas. Birch beer, flavored with sassafras and birch, is a classic American brew. Birch bark is usually sold in homebrew stores. Bitter Orange (Bergamot) s highly aromatic, and its dried peel is an essential part of cola flavor. The dried peel and its extract are usually available in spice shops, or any store with a good spice selection. They can be pricey. Burdock root s a traditional ingredient in American root beers. It has a mild sweet flavor similar to that of artichoke. Dried burdock root is available in most Asian groceries and homebrew stores. Cinnamon has several species, but they all fall into two types. Ceylon cinnamon is thin and mild, with a faint fragrance of allspice. Southeast Asian cinnamon, also called cassia, is both stronger and more common. The best grade comes from Vietnam and is sold as Saigon cinnamon. Use it in sticks, rather than ground. The sticks can be found in most grocery stores. Ginger, a common soda ingredient, is very aromatic, at once spicy and cooling. It is widely available fresh in the produce section of grocery stores, and it can be found whole and dried in most spice shops. Lemongrass, a perennial herb from central Asia, contains high levels of citral, the pungent aromatic component of lemon oil. It yields a rich lemon flavor without the acid of lemon juice, which can disrupt the fermentation of yeasted sodas. Lemon zest is similar in flavor and can be substituted. Lemongrass is available in most Asian markets and in the produce section of well-stocked grocery stores. Licorice root provides the well-known strong and sweet flavor of black licorice candy. Dried licorice root is sold in natural food stores and homebrew stores. Anise seed and dried star anise are suitable substitutes. Sarsaparilla s similar in flavor to sassafras, but a little milder. Many plants go by the name sarsaparilla. Southern-clime sarsaparilla (Smilax spp.) is the traditional root-beer flavoring. Most of the supply we get in North America comes from Mexico; it’s commonly sold in homebrew stores. Wild sarsaparilla (Aralia spp.) is more common in North America and is sometimes used as a substitute for true sarsaparilla. Small young sarsaparilla roots, known as “root bark” are less pungent and are usually preferred for soda making, although fully mature roots give fine results. Sassafras s the most common flavoring for root beers of all types. Its root bark is very strong and should be used with caution, especially if combined with other flavors. It is easily overpowering. Dried sassafras is available in homebrew stores. Star anise, the dried fruit of an Asian evergreen, tastes like licorice, with hints of clove and cinnamon. The flavor is strong, so use star anise with caution. It is available dried in the spice section of most grocery stores but can be found much more cheaply at Asian markets.

This rich pork flavor, which lands on the tongue with a thump... It's Chinese Dongpo Pork! He seasoned pork belly with a blend of spices and let it marinate thoroughly... ... before finely dicing it and mixing it into the fried rice!" "What? Dongpo Pork prepared this fast?! No way! He didn't have nearly enough time to simmer the pork belly!" "Heh heh. Actually, there's a little trick to that. I simmered it in sparkling water instead of tap water. The carbon dioxide that gives sparkling water its carbonation helps break down the fibers in meat. Using this, you can tenderize a piece of meat in less than half the normal time!" "That isn't the only protein in this dish. I can taste the seafood from an Acqua Pazza too!" "And these green beans... it's the Indian dish Poriyal! Diced green beans and shredded coconut fried in oil with chilies and mustard seeds... it has a wonderfully spicy kick!" "He also used the distinctly French Mirepoix to gently accentuate the sweetness of the vegetables. So many different delicious flavors... ... all clashing and sparking in my mouth! But the biggest key to this dish, and the core of its amazing deliciousness... ... is the rice!" "Hmph. Well, of course it is. The dish is fried rice. If the rice isn't the centerpiece, it isn't a..." "I see. His dish is fried rice while simultaneously being something other than fried rice. A rice lightly fried in butter before being steamed in some variety of soup stock... In other words, it's actually closer to that famous staple from Turkish cuisine- a Pilaf! In fact, it's believed the word "pilaf" actually comes from the Turkish word pilav. To think he built the foundation of his dish on pilaf of all things!" "Heh heh heh! Yep, that's right! Man, I've learned so much since I started going to Totsuki." "Mm, I see! When you finished the dish, you didn't fry it in oil! That's why it still tastes so light, despite the large volume and variety of additional ingredients. I could easily tuck away this entire plate! Still... I'm surprised at how distinct each grain of rice is. If it was in fact steamed in stock, you'd think it'd be mushier." "Ooh, you've got a discerning tongue, sir! See, when I steamed the rice... ... I did it in a Donabe ceramic pot instead of a rice cooker!" Ah! No wonder! A Donabe warms slowly, but once it's hot, it can hold high temperatures for a long time! It heats the rice evenly, holding a steady temperature throughout the steaming process to steam off all excess water. To think he'd apply a technique for sticky rice to a pilaf instead! With Turkish pilaf as his cornerstone... ... he added super-savory Dongpo pork, a Chinese dish... ... whitefish and clams from an Italian Acqua Pazza... ... spicy Indian green bean and red chili Poriyal... ... and for the French component, Mirepoix and Oeuf Mayonnaise as a topping! *Ouef is the French word for "egg."* By combining those five dishes into one, he has created an extremely unique take on fried rice! " "Hold it! Wait one dang minute! After listening to your entire spiel... ... it sounds to me like all he did was mix a bunch of dishes together and call it a day! There's no way that mishmash of a dish could meet the lofty standards of the BLUE! It can't nearly be gourmet enough!" "Oh, but it is. For one, he steamed the pilaf in the broth from the Acqua Pazza... ... creating a solid foundation that ties together the savory elements of all the disparate ingredients! The spiciness of the Poriyal could have destabilized the entire flavor structure... ... but by balancing it out with the mellow body of butter and soy sauce, he turned the Poriyal's sharp bite into a pleasing tingle!

Zucchini, 1 medium NUTS/SEEDS Almond butter, all natural, if desired for smoothies Almonds, 1 bag whole plus 1 bag sliced Chia seeds Flaxseed, ground Peanut butter, all natural (such as Smucker’s, Teddie, or 365 Whole Foods) Pecans Pumpkin seeds Sesame seeds Walnuts SPICES/PANTRY ITEMS Balsamic vinegar Basil Black pepper, ground Cinnamon Coconut milk, light, 1 can Cumin Curry powder (look for brands with no onion or garlic, such as Spice Appeal)

Something About Cooking Cooking is sometimes a pleasure, sometimes a duty, sometimes a burden and sometimes a martyrdom, all according to the point of view. The extremes are rarities, and sometimes duty and burden are synonymous. In ordinary understanding we have American cooking and Foreign cooking, and to one accustomed to plain American cooking, all variants, and all additions of spices, herbs, or unusual condiments is classed under the head of Foreign. In the average American family cooking is a duty usually considered as one of the necessary evils of existence, and food is prepared as it is usually eaten—hastily—something to fill the stomach. The excuse most frequently heard in San Francisco for the restaurant habit, and for living in cooped-up apartments, is that the wife wants to get away from the burden of the kitchen and drudgery of housework. And like many other effects this eventually becomes a cause, for both husband and wife become accustomed to better cooking than they could get at home and there is a continuance of the custom, for both get a distaste for plainly cooked food, and the wife does not know how to cook any other way.

Denmark: Fatal Outbreak Tied to Meat By REUTERS An outbreak of listeria tied to contaminated Danish meat has killed 12 people since last September, with most of the deaths in the past three months, the Ministry of Food, Agriculture and Fisheries said Tuesday. The outbreak was finally traced on Monday to a popular type of cold cut called rullepolse — “rolled sausage” in Danish, typically made of pork stuffed with herbs and spices — produced by a company near Copenhagen, Jorn A. Rullepolser A/S. “This is completely incomprehensible for us,” Christina Lowies Jensen, an official at the company, told TV2 television, saying all production and sales had been halted. Listeria can lead to fatal infections, especially in the young or the elderly.

Take a Trip to Bali through Food! Enter Bali through the food, spices and cooking culture of the island. An array of favorite dishes drinks, and desserts for those whose passion is food. Interesting and enjoyable reading and cooking!” Margery Hamai. Bodhi Tree Dharma Center. Honolulu, Hawaii “I am very happy that the book is ready to enjoy. We are very proud that some Puri Lumbung cuisine (authentic recipe) is in your book. I hope this can enrich the knowledge and creation of people in the cooking world.” Yudhi Ishwari, Puri Lumbung Cottages, Munduk, northern Bali. April 2014 “Great travel journalism! Not only a thorough book about a fascinating cuisine, but good travel journalism as well. A delightful journey for the senses.” By Mutual Publishing, LLC (Consignment) on April 30, 2014 “We are proud and happy that one of our graduates is the author of an interesting book enjoyed by many readers.” Kachuen Gee, Head Librarian, Leonard Lief Library, Herbert Lehman College, Bronx, New York. May 2014

Foreword Reviews Magazine. Foreword Reviews. Summer 2014 issue. "By way of introduction to Vivienne Kruger’s Balinese Food, bear in mind that eight degrees south of the equator, this modest-sized lava rich, emerald green island rests among the 17,508 remote, culturally distinct constellation of Indonesian islands. It is home to three million mortals who believe they are protected by an unfathomable number of Bali-Hindu goddesses and gods that inhabit the island’s sacred mountain peaks. The Balinese are unlike almost any other island people in that they are suspicious, even distrustful of the sea, believing mischievous spirits and negative powers dwell there—the underworld, as it were. Yes, they eat seafood, they just mostly let other Indonesians do the fetching. Fittingly, Kruger’s masterful use of language; dogged, on the ground conversations with thousands of Balinese cooks and farmers; and disarming humanity leads to a culinary-minded compendium unlike almost any other. Bali, you got the scribe you deserved. What made Kruger’s work even more impressive is the fact that almost nothing about Balinese food history has been written down over the years. She writes: “Like so many other traditions in Bali, cooking techniques and eating habits are passed down verbally by elders to their children and grandchildren who help in the kitchen. However, Indonesia has an old orally transmitted food culture because the pleasure of storytelling is entwined with the pleasure and effort of cooking and eating.” Balinese Food is framed around twenty-one chapters, including the all-important Sacred Ceremonial Cuisine, Traditional Village Foods, the Cult of Rice, Balinese Pig, Balinese Duck, and specialized cooking techniques like saté, banana leaf wrappers, and the use of bumbu, a sacred, powerful dry spice paste mixture. In the chapter Seafood in Bali, she lists a popular, fragrant accompaniment called Sambal Matah—chopped shallots, red chilies, coconut oil, and kaffir lime juice—that is always served raw and fresh, in this case, alongside a simple recipe for grilled tuna. An outstanding achievement in the realm of island cooking and Indonesian history, Balinese Food showcases the Balinese people in the most flattering of ways.

I tried to read the menu, but I kept getting distracted. The aromas from the kitchen filled the room- melting butter, grilling meat, soft and sharp spices. All of them better than any of the restaurant smells I'd had to pass by during my time in the city. My mouth was watering, and my nose was so focused that I could barely skim the first few items. Sablefish with miso glaze Duck, dry-aged and served with pureed butternut squash Wagyu New York strip I had no idea what these things were, except for duck, which I couldn't help but feel sorry for. Dry-aged sounded like an especially bad death for a waterfowl. The waiter returned. "Shall I order for us?" Victoria asked. I nodded, grateful. "Anything you don't eat? Allergies?" I shook my head. Nobody had ever asked me that before. On the island, I'd eaten what I gathered. At the cove, I ate what came to the table. Now I'd eat anything that didn't involve the jar in my backpack. "We'll start with the clam chowder," Victoria said. "We can order more later." The waiter nodded respectfully and disappeared again. "They make it with fresh clams," she told me. "It's exceptional." A young woman with a fancy braid in her hair brought us a basket of French bread, still warm from the oven. I watched as Victoria spread one slice with butter that melted as she applied it, releasing the faintest scent of flowers. "Here," she said, handing it to me. The crust gave way under my teeth with a delicate crunch, the butter soft on my tongue. It tasted even better than it smelled. After almost two weeks of hard mattresses and strangers and failure, I wanted to crawl inside the comfort of this bread and stay there forever.

When was the last time you saw on a menu a chewet (a small, round pie of finely chopped meat or fish, with spices and fruit, 'made taller than a marrow pie'), a dowlet (a small pie of particularly dainty little tidbits), a herbelade or hebolace (a pie with pork mince and herb mixture), a talemouse (a sort of cheesecake, sometimes triangular in shape) or a vaunt (a type of a fruit pie)? these words (and more) were once everyday words in a baker's vocabulary. The only conclusion it is possible to draw is that the loss of so many pie-words reflects the loss of the pies themselves.

After a while, those little things – the outward signs of a life being half-lived, of a life in flux – started to fade. I got used to the driving. I accepted that his clothes were gone. I stopped bursting into tears every time I smelled Old Spice. But I never, ever, let go of that dressing gown. I suspect it’s a sign of some kind of mental breakdown, so I keep it secret, tucked away in a Tesco carrier bag in my underwear drawer, only getting it out at night.

Przyprawy dla dania to jak makijaż dla kobiety. Potrafią wydobyć smaki, których istnienia byś nawet nie podejrzewał.

I thought Hayama's talent lay in the mixing of varied exotic spices to create the perfect fragrance." "No, his skill is in manipulating fragrance itself. He can do more than just add more spices into his recipes. In fact, this time he subtracted spices instead. In so doing, he accentuated the freshness and flavor of the in-season pike." "Uh, I get that much, but, like, how did he manage to get that rich of a fragrance with only one spice? His dish's impact was on par with Ryo's!" "Yes! Just searing not give that punch. It is inconceivable!" "I used kaeshi sauce. Right before serving, I brushed a thin layer of kaeshi onto the fish slices." "Kaeshi? Does he mean the ramen soup base?!" "Kaeshi was mentioned during the Ramen Bout in the Quarterfinals, yes. It seems this time it is being used in a purely Japanese fashion." "Kaeshi? Like Tsubame-Gaeshi Sword Cut, yes? Kojiro Sasaki Swallow Cut!" "I'm surprised you're familiar with that sword technique. But no, this is different. Kaeshi is a mixture of soy sauce, mirin and sake. It is most often diluted with dashi stock to go with noodles. It is considered an all-purpose seasoning that can be used in almost any Japanese dish." "No wonder! Fish meat generally does not brown easily, even when using the high, focused heat of a blowtorch. But the sugars present in kaeshi make that easier! It also prevents the heating time from dragging out too long and ruining the freshness of the fish. " "The fatty acids of the fish mix with the sugars in the kaeshi. Add heat and they will sizzle and boil.

Flavors are much more intense for people these days, so some of the old recipes don't stand up the way they used to. Think about what people are eating now, all kinds of hot sauces and spicy foods. Intensely spiced global cuisines. Bitter kale instead of buttery spinach, funky goat cheese instead of mild cheddar." He tilts his head at me, pondering. "So what you are saying is that because people are much more exposed to these things, the original recipes taste different to them?" "Exactly! Sriracha is as common as ketchup in most houses these days, so people's palates are used to more oomph in their flavors. Think about how it all used to be basic caramel, and now salted caramel is everywhere! When I was a kid it was all about milk chocolate, and now the darker and more intense the better.

Kerala’s food evolved from the diverse people who traversed this land. The story of Kerala is closely linked to the story of the world’s eagerness for spices. Because of the wealth this land possessed, people of various countries, religions and races arrived, for trade. Flourishing commerce translated into an enthusiastic reception for those who could conduct business competently. Which, in turn, opened up avenues for new religions and communities. Eventually, colonization spelt an end to the hospitality, but it also gave rise to the strong ethos of Malayali-ness that now marks this land.

Now, whenever she had to leave him, be it for only a few minutes, Caro was seized by an annoying bout of dizziness. Mark would have liked to come along, but, a long time ago, Caro had set the rules in place and she was not about to change them on the spur of the moment. The rules had proved safe and efficient. As long as they were followed to the letter, the chances of success were not diminished while the chances of discovery were minimized. She found the key and locked the service door from inside. She stopped briefly on the stair landing, to give herself a few seconds to think of her next step. The aroma of spiced food wafted from the restaurant's kitchen, mingled with the sour fragrance of demi-sec wine spilled from a broken bottle. Slowly, her mind and body adjusted to the environment. She was ready now. The staircase was unlit. Caro did not switch on

Now, whenever she had to leave him, be it for only a few minutes, Caro was seized by an annoying bout of dizziness. Mark would have liked to come along, but, a long time ago, Caro had set the rules in place and she was not about to change them on the spur of the moment. The rules had proved safe and efficient. As long as they were followed to the letter, the chances of success were not diminished while the chances of discovery were minimized. She found the key and locked the service door from inside. She stopped briefly on the stair landing, to give herself a few seconds to think of her next step. The aroma of spiced food wafted from the restaurant's kitchen, mingled with the sour fragrance of demi-sec wine spilled from a broken bottle. Slowly, her mind and body adjusted to the environment. She was ready now. The staircase was unlit. Caro did not switch on the light, but inched up slowly through the dark, careful not to touch any surface, especially the walls or the handrail. She was feeling her way up slowly.

Not only was the best time of day to eat outlined, but also what foods to eat at the different times of year. Elizabethan physicians advised eating according to the season, to balance the weather’s effect on digestion. In warm weather, “cool and moist” foods such as fruits and vegetables and light meats like chicken were recommended. In the winter, “hot and dry” spices such as ginger, mustard, and pepper and “hot” meats such as mutton and beef were encouraged.

French Fried Green Beans Finger food to go with a steak or burger, or just by themselves for the fun of it! Ingredients: 1 pound of fresh green beans 1 teaspoon coarse sea salt ½ teaspoon black peppercorns or rose peppercorns ¼ teaspoon garlic powder ½ teaspoon dried Italian seasoning mix 1 egg white Pre-heat a deep fat fryer to 240oF (hot) –preferably filled with high oleic safflower oil Rinse green beans, trim, and pat dry on a towel Grind spices together in a mortar and pestle Whip egg white until foamy, then coat the green beans in egg, Put egg-coated beans in a 1-qt plastic bag and dust with ground spices, shake vigorously, and drop into hot oil. Fry for 2-3 minutes. Remove when the egg coating just starts to brown.

Raw persimmon is an acquired taste," he said, handing me a slice, "but I have a feeling you'll like this one." I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. 'I'm a baker, Ogden,' I wanted to say. 'Of course I know what persimmon tastes like.' I bit into the fruit. It had the texture of a firm heirloom tomato and a heady, semisweet taste as though infused with a tiny drop of honey. I nodded and made a sound of approval. "You didn't order any, but I brought you a few to try anyway. I wondered if maybe they might inspire a new cupcake flavor for the holidays," Ogden said. He kept his serious brown eyes trained on the persimmon in his hand while he spoke, a gesture that seemed oddly bashful and entirely unlike him. "You'll have to excuse me if that sounds presumptuous. I'll be the first to admit I know nothing about the recipe creation process." I took another bite of persimmon, considering. Ogden held himself very still as he watched me chew, and I appreciated the restraint he showed in not jumping in to fill the silence. I knew it couldn't have been easy for him. "You have good instincts," I said finally. "A persimmon cupcake could be a great addition to the menu. Add some chocolate, a little cinnamon and cardamom, some sweet vanilla icing, and I think we'd have a new Christmas favorite." "You don't think persimmon is too adventurous for your patrons?" "Nah," I said. It was actually nice to talk to someone who took food as seriously as I did- I only wished he could do so without sounding so pompous. "But we might have to lead with the chocolate. Chocolate Persimmon Spice. That wouldn't offend you, would it? If I promised to use organic chocolate?" "I think my ego can handle a little organic chocolate," Ogden said.

At the sight of the dozen assorted cupcakes, as bright and optimistic as party hats, Louise's eyes lit up. "How wonderful!" she said, clapping her hands together again. I handed her one of the red velvet cupcakes that I'd made in the old-fashioned style, using beets instead of food coloring. I'd had to scrub my fingers raw for twenty minutes to get the crimson beet stain off them, but the result was worth it: a rich chocolate cake cut with a lighter, nearly unidentifiable, earthy sweetness, and topped with cream cheese icing and a feathery cap of coconut shavings. For Ogden, I selected a Moroccan vanilla bean and pumpkin spice cupcake that I'd been developing with Halloween in mind. It was not for the faint of heart, and I saw the exact moment in Ogden's eyes that the dash of heat- courtesy of a healthy pinch of cayenne- hit his tongue, and the moment a split-second later that the sugary vanilla swept away the heat, like salve on a wound. "Oh," he said, after swallowing. He looked at me, and I could see it was his turn to be at a loss for words. I smiled. Louise, on the other hand, was half giggling, half moaning her way through a second cupcake, this time a lemonade pound cake with a layer of hot pink Swiss meringue buttercream icing curling into countless tiny waves as festive and feminine as a little girl's birthday tiara. "Exquisite!" she said, mouth full. And then, shrugging in her son's direction, her eyes twinkling. "What? I didn't eat lunch.

Buttermilk Fried Chicken PREP TIME: 7 MINUTES / COOK TIME: 20 TO 25 MINUTES / SERVES 4 370°F FRY FAMILY FAVORITE Fried chicken is perhaps the most decadent of fried foods. But many people don’t make it at home because oil splatters everywhere when you fry chicken. And it’s just not healthy to eat it too often. The air fryer comes to the rescue with this wonderful adaptation. 6 chicken pieces: drumsticks, breasts, and thighs 1 cup flour 2 teaspoons paprika Pinch salt Freshly ground black pepper ⅓ cup buttermilk 2 eggs 2 tablespoons olive oil 1½ cups bread crumbs 1. Pat the chicken dry. In a shallow bowl, combine the flour, paprika, salt, and pepper. 2. In another bowl, beat the buttermilk with the eggs until smooth. 3. In a third bowl, combine the olive oil and bread crumbs until mixed. 4. Dredge the chicken in the flour, then into the eggs to coat, and finally into the bread crumbs, patting the crumbs firmly onto the chicken skin. 5. Air-fry the chicken for 20 to 25 minutes, turning each piece over halfway during cooking, until the meat registers 165°F on a meat thermometer and the chicken is brown and crisp. Let cool for 5 minutes, then serve. Variation tip: You can marinate the chicken in buttermilk and spices such as cayenne pepper, chili powder, or garlic powder overnight before you cook it. This makes the chicken even more moist and tender and adds flavor. Per serving: Calories: 644; Total Fat: 17g; Saturated Fat: 4g; Cholesterol: 214mg; Sodium: 495mg; Carbohydrates: 55g;

Roasted Sweet Potato Wedges Makes 8 wedges The trick to achieving tender oil-free roasted sweet potatoes is to steam them before you put them in the oven. This precooking prevents the sweet potatoes from becoming overly chewy, which can happen when you roast them from raw without any oil. —DS 2 medium sweet potatoes (about 11/2 pounds), peeled and quartered lengthwise 1 teaspoon granulated garlic 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin 1/2 teaspoon chili powder 1/2 teaspoon sea salt 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper 1. Preheat the oven to 425°F. 2. Place a steamer insert in a saucepan and add about 2 inches of water (the water should not come above the level of the bottom of the steamer). Cover the pan and bring the water to a boil. Place the potato wedges in the steamer, cover, and steam the potatoes until just tender, about 7 minutes. 3. Transfer the potato wedges to a nonstick baking sheet or a regular baking sheet lined with a silicone mat, arranging them in a single layer. 4. In a small bowl, combine the garlic, cumin, chili powder, salt, and pepper. Sprinkle the spice mixture evenly over the sweet potatoes. 5. Bake until brown and tender, 15 to 20 minutes, turning once during cooking. Serve hot.

Edible flowers have many culinary uses. Sought after for their flavors, aromas, textures and colours, edible flowers are used fresh, frozen, dried, crystallized or as a foam - in molecular gastronomy - and appear in meat and fish dishes, pastas, salads, soups and desserts. Some common forms of edible flowers are found in garnishes, candied sweets, confits and jellies, pickled flowers or flower vinegars; flavourings such as essences and spice blends; food dyes and colourings; teas, infusions and tisanes; flavoured waters and syrups; and liquors, cordials, bitters, wine, beer and mead.

We begin with an onion soup as smoky and fragrant as autumn leaves, with croutons and grated Gruyère and a sprinkle of paprika over the top. She serves and watches me throughout, waiting, perhaps, for me to produce from thin air an even more perfect confection that will cast her effort into the shade. Instead I eat, and talk, and smile, and compliment the chef, and the chink of crockery goes through her head, and she feels slightly dazed, not quite herself. Well, pulque is a mysterious brew, and the punch is liberally spiked with it, courtesy of Yours Truly, of course, in honor of the joyful occasion. As comfort, perhaps, she serves more punch, and the scent of the cloves is like being buried alive, and the taste is like chilies spiced with fire, and she wonders, Will it ever end? The second course is sweet foie gras, sliced on thin toast with quinces and figs. It's the snap that gives this dish its charm, like the snap of correctly tempered chocolate, and the foie gras melts so lingeringly in the mouth, as soft as praline truffle, and it is served with a glass of ice-cold Sauternes that Anouk disdains, but which Rosette sips in a tiny glass no larger than a thimble, and she gives her rare and sunny smile, and signs impatiently for more. The third course is a salmon baked en papillote and served whole, with a béarnaise sauce. Alice complains she is nearly full, but Nico shares his plate with her, feeding her tidbits and laughing at her minuscule appetite. Then comes the pièce de résistance: the goose, long roasted in a hot oven so that the fat has melted from the skin, leaving it crisp and almost caramelized, and the flesh so tender it slips off the bones like a silk stocking from a lady's leg. Around it there are chestnuts and roast potatoes, all cooked and crackling in the golden fat.

Tomatoes, chilli peppers and cocoa are all Mexican in origin; they reached Europe and Asia only after the Spaniards conquered Mexico. Julius Caesar and Dante Alighieri never twirled tomato-drenched spaghetti on their forks (even forks hadn’t been invented yet), William Tell never tasted chocolate, and Buddha never spiced up his food with chilli. Potatoes reached Poland and Ireland no more than 400 years ago. The only steak you could obtain in Argentina in 1492 was from a llama.

This is an art I can enjoy. There is a kind of sorcery in all cooking; in the choosing of ingredients, the process of mixing, grating, melting, infusing, and flavoring, the recipes taken from ancient books, the traditional utensils- the pestle and mortar with which my mother made her incense turned to a more homely purpose, her spices and aromatics giving up their subtleties to a baser, more sensual magic. And it is partly the transience of it delights me; so much loving preparation, so much art and experience, put into a pleasure that can last only a moment, and which only a few will ever fully appreciate. My mother always viewed my interest with indulgent contempt. To her, food was no pleasure but a tiresome necessity to be worried over, a tax on the price of our freedom. I stole menus from restaurants and looked longingly into patisserie windows. I must have been ten years old- maybe older- before I first tasted real chocolate. But still the fascination endured. I carried recipes in my head like maps. All kinds of recipes: torn from abandoned magazines in busy railway stations, wheedled from people on the road, strange marriages of my own confection. Mother with her cards, her divinations, directed our mad course across Europe. Cookery cards anchored us, placed landmarks on the bleak borders. Paris smells of baking bread and croissants; Marseille of bouillabaisse and grilled garlic. Berlin was Eisbrei with sauerkraut and Kartoffelsalat, Rome was the ice cream I ate without paying in a tiny restaurant beside the river.

My sense of smell seemed preternaturally enhanced, so that I could almost taste every dish- the fish grilled in the ashes of the brazier, the roasted goat's cheese, the dark pancakes and the light, the hot chocolate cake, the confit de canard and the spiced merguez...

Joséphine helped me prepare dinner: a salad of green beans and tomatoes in spiced oil, red and black olives from the Thursday market stall, walnut bread, fresh basil from Narcisse, goat's cheese, red wine from Bordeaux.

Eat less, while enjoying the foods you eat. Eat lots of fruits and vegetables, and lots of herbs and spices. And maybe most importantly, spend less time stressing over the types of food you are eating.

The kitchen. Scent of cumin, ajwain and cardamom. On the table, a little pile of nutmeg. Thick, oily vapor rose from the pot on the stove. The room was warm and spacious, the window high and wide. Tiny drops of condensation covered the top of the glass. Smoke soared towards the ceiling in shafts of light. I noticed many shiny pots and pans hanging on the whitewashed walls. And strings of lal mirchi, and idli makers, and thalis, and conical molds for kulfi. In the corner the tandoor was ready. Its orange glow stirred in the utensils on the walls.

Everyone jumps to their stations and I meet Richard and Amanda at ours. We're in charge of assembling spoonfuls of sweet-potato casserole but with a Spanish twist. That was my idea, a Southern holiday meal meets a twist of southern Spain. Most of the hors d'oeuvres were prepared beforehand so we just need to get them in the oven and put on the finishing garnishes. I begin scooping sweet-potato casserole onto ceramic serving spoons while Richard garnishes them with sugared walnuts and Spanish sausage. Three months ago, most of us had never even tried Spanish cuisine, and today we're hosting a semi-Spanish-themed banquet. We work like machines. I spoon and pass the bite to my left. Richard adds walnuts and sausage, and passes the plate. Amanda adds parsley and cleans the plate. Chili aioli would make this bomb. A sweet and savory bite. I almost walk to the spice cabinet, then stop myself. That's not the recipe. We make trays and trays of food; some are set forward for the students who will begin serving. These are the skewers of winter veggies and single-serve portions of herbed stuffing with jamón ibérico- the less hearty bites. While the first course is being distributed the rest of us begin wiping down our stations. Our mini bites of sweet potato and mac and cheese will be going out next.

Chef Ayden says you have something special. An 'affinity with the things that come from the dirt,' he says. A master of spices. And coming from Ayden that means a lot. He doesn't usually believe in natural inclinations. Only in working hard enough to make the hard work seem effortless. Is it true about you?" I know my eyebrows look about ready to parachute off my face. "You mean the bay-leaf thing?" "No more oil, that's good." She takes the bowl of marinated octopus from my hand, covers it with a red cloth, and puts it in the fridge. "The 'bay-leaf thing' is exactly what I mean. You're new to Spain. From what your teacher tells me, not many of you have had exposure to world cuisines. Yet, you know a variety of herb that looks and smells slightly different when found outside of this region. I'm sure you've probably seen it in other ways. You've probably mixed spices together no one told you would go together. Cut a vegetable in a certain way that you believe will render it more flavorful. You know things that no one has taught you, sí?" I shake my head no at her. 'Buela always said I had magic hands but I've never said it out loud about myself. And I don't know if I believed it was magic as much as I believed I'm a really good cook. But she is right; most of my experimenting is with spices. "My aunt Sarah sends me recipes that I practice with. And I watch a lot on Food Network. Do you have that channel here? It's really good. They have this show called Chopped-" Chef Amadí puts down the rag she was wiping down the counter with and takes my hands in hers. Studies my palms. "Chef Ayden tells me you have a gift. If you don't want to call it magic, fine. You have a gift and it's probably changed the lives of people around you. When you cook, you are giving people a gift. Remember that.

Should You Eat Dal Rice / Khichdi? Here's Why Research Now Backs This Protein Mix That Aids Weight Loss And Gut Health. Did you know dal rice is a dish with complete amino acid profile? Read here to know more benefits of this humble dish. 1. While dal and rice individually lack a few essential amino acids, the combination of the two make for a complete amino acid profile. Rice contains cysteine and methionine, both of which are lacking in lentils. Similarly, lentils contain lysine, the amino acid which grains lack. 2. The joy of eating dal rice is best with a lip-smacking tadka of ghee on it. Not only will ghee make the dish more delicious, it will also help you absorb all nutrients from dal rice and from spices like turmeric and cumin. However, you need to watch for the amount of ghee you use. Celebrity nutritionist Rujuta Diwekar says that you should add as much ghee to your food that enhances (and not kills) the original taste of it. 3. The beauty of dal rice and khichdi is that this simple dish can be prepared in unique ways. To make it more wholesome and nutritious, you can add a variety of lentils and grains (in your khichdi). And for the tadka, numerous spices can be added. Hing and jeera, for instance, are commonly added to dal and even khichdi. The two ingredients impart an earthy flavour to the dish and are excellent for digestion at the same time. 4. Turmeric is another essential ingredient in both dal rice and khichdi. This golden spice has numerous health benefits. Read here to know all about them. 5. Dal rice is high in fibre and antioxidants. You are likely to get Vitamin A, D, E and K all at once by eating this very easy-to-prepare staple Indian dish. It is one dish which can aid digestion, improve your metabolism, reduce inflammation in the body, promote weight loss and build immunity. * Subject to calorie controlled use for Weight Management.* Contact Sunrise Nutrition Hub 9820055036 Email: [email protected] Address: Shop No 1&2, Bayview, Near Fortis Hospital, Opp Swamnarayan Kendra, Sector 10'A, Vashi, - 400703

Chili powder, paprika, and turmeric are rich in the compound, but cumin has the most per serving. Indeed, just one teaspoon of ground cumin may be about the equivalent of a baby aspirin. This may help explain why India, with its spice-rich diets, has among the lowest worldwide rates of colorectal cancer75—the cancer that appears most sensitive to the effects of aspirin.76 And the spicier, the better! A spicy vegetable vindaloo has been calculated to contain four times the salicylic acid content

Y'know... after that other dish a minute ago, this one tastes especially... I dunno... homey. It's a dish with a real human feel to it." "I see monkfish meat, skin, fins and- HM?! Kogiku squash... Tachikawa burdock... and Akasuji daikon!" "Y-yes, sir! All of those are veggies you can find in my hometown. I wanted to show in my dish how good the veggies in my hometown are, so I tried a lot of different combinations... but curry spices are really powerful, and they didn't go well with a lot of the veggies' natural sweetness or bitterness. I was stumped for a good long time, until I had the sudden thought that I could do a dobujiru for my dish. The monkfish liver in dobujiru could be a kind of bridge, allowing me to make the best of the curry spices while at the same time retaining all the natural tastiness of the veggies And besides, I, um... I've handled monkfish since I was little anyway." "Really?" "I wanted to make a curry that reflected all the best of my hometown... right down to the taste and smells!

I can smell fennel, lemongrass and cinnamon. But there's something more... something that ties those three spices together. What is this powerful aroma underneath it all? "'Holy basil'! And he used fresh leaves!" Holy... ... basil? "It's a spice native to Southeast Asia and sacred to the Hindu religion. Just one whiff of it... ... sends a refreshing sensation throughout the entire body. In Ayurvedic medicine, it's even considered an elixir of life!" *Ayurveda is the name of Hindu traditional medicine in which proper diet plays a large role.* "Really? What an amazing spice!" "However... ... holy basil rarely makes it to Japan while still fresh! It should be nearly impossible to procure! How on earth did you get it?!" "Oh, that? We raise it year-round for our seminar. And how do we cultivate it? Well... that's a trade secret." "What?! He raises his own uber-rare spices?!" "That's the Shiomi seminar for you." ""Shiomi"? They must mean Professor Jun Shiomi, the academic expert on spices!" "Man, this scent is not just powerful, it's addictive! But that's not the only thing going on in this dish. There's something else, something that spurs you on to the next bite... tartness? Yogurt!" "Good guess, Yukihira. Holy basil is so strong it can easily overpower all other spices if you aren't careful. But adding in yogurt mellows it out." Not only that, the spices he used have the curcumin compound, which is known to aid the liver in detoxifying the blood. That together with the lactic acids in yogurt increases how well the body absorbs it!

curcumin pills; they merely got less than a teaspoon a day of just the regular turmeric spice you’d find at the grocery store. Of course, turmeric can’t completely mitigate the effects of smoking. Even after the participants ate turmeric for a month, the DNA-damaging ability of the smokers’ urine still exceeded that of the nonsmokers’. But smokers who make turmeric a staple of their diets may help lessen some of the damage.

A few days before the club, Stevie and Erin produced the wares of their dumpster dives. New potatoes, udon noodles, shiitake mushrooms, raspberry doughnuts, baked meringues, feta cheese, frozen peas, farfalle pasta, tomato puree, tinned salmon, plus a load of day-old radishes. "The most important part of any dumpster dive," Erin said, moving her hand expansively over the food, "is showing off what you have found." I processed the food as she'd taught me: cleaning the packaging with diluted bleach and soaking the vegetables in a vinegar-water solution. In the large chrome restaurant kitchen, I spread it all out across the counter and thought about what I'd make. We had bought just one extra ingredient: enormous cuts of T-bone steak. We thought red meat should be a prerequisite for all Supper Clubs. An element of spontaneity had also been agreed on, with no set menu, no dietary requirements- just eat whatever's in front of you and be sure to eat it all. The plan was to spend all night at the restaurant, waiting hours between courses. I made grilled potatoes and spiced salmon for the first course. I roasted radishes and topped them with crumbled feta for the second. Cold noodle salad with shiitake mushrooms and peas for the third, and T-bone steaks cooked rare, with a side of garlic-tomato pasta, for the main course. For dessert I made a strange sort of Eton mess, with chunks of torn doughnuts and smashed meringue covered in cream and sugar.

Do you remember when you told me that you’d bought something ridiculously luxurious, and it was a mango?” he asks. “I was so fucking jealous of you. I wished that I could feel what that was like. I wanted to want something like that. I wanted to have that so badly.” I don’t have answers to any of his problems. I don’t even have solutions to mine. But this one thing? This, I can handle. “Come on,” I say. “Let’s get some mangoes.” We pull off the freeway a few miles later and follow the computer’s directions to a little grocery store. Fifteen minutes later, we’re sitting in a rest stop, cutting our mangoes to bits. “Here,” I tell him. “Trade me. Pretend you’re me. Let me tell you what it was like when I had that mango.” He shuts his eyes obligingly. “I didn’t have a lot of money,” I tell him. “And that meant one thing and one thing only—fried rice.” He smiles despite himself. “Kind of a stereotype, don’t you think?” “Whose stereotype? Rice is peasant food for more than half the world. It’s easy. It’s cheap. You can dress it up with a lot of other things. A little bit of onion, a bag of frozen carrots and peas. A carton of eggs. With enough rice, that can last you basically forever. It does for some people.” “It actually sounds good.” “If you have a decent underlying spice cabinet, you can break up the monotony a little. Fried rice with soy sauce one day. Spicy rice the next. And then curry rice. You can fool your tongue indefinitely. You can’t fool your body. You start craving.” He’s sitting on the picnic table, his eyes shut. “For me, the thing I start craving first is greens. Lettuce. Pea shoots. Anything that isn’t coming out of a bag of frozen veggies. And fruit. If you have an extra dollar or two, you buy apples and eat them in quarters, dividing them throughout the day.” I slide next to him on the table. The sun is warm around us. “But you get sick of apples, too, pretty soon. And so that’s where I want you to imagine yourself: sick to death of fried rice. No respite. No letting up. And then suddenly, one day, someone hands you a debit card and says, ‘Hey. Here’s fifteen thousand dollars.’ No, I’m not going to buy a stupid purse. I’m going to buy this.” I hold up a piece of mango to his lips. He opens his mouth and the fruit slides in. His lips close on my fingers like a kiss, and I can’t bring myself to draw away. He’s warmer than the sun, and I feel myself getting pulled in, closer and closer. “Oh, God.” He doesn’t open his eyes. “That’s so good.” I feed him another slice, golden and dripping juice. “That’s what it felt like,” I tell him. “Like there’s a deep-seated need, something in my bones, something missing. And then you take a bite and there’s an explosion of flavor, something bigger than just the taste buds screaming, yes, yes, this is what I need.” I hand him another piece of mango. He bites it in half, chews, and then takes the other half. “That’s what it felt like,” I say. “It felt like I’d been starving myself. Like I…” He opens his eyes and looks at me. “Like there was something I needed,” I say softly. “Something I’ve needed deep down. Something I’ve been denying myself because I can’t let myself want it.” My voice trails off. I’m not describing the taste of mango anymore. My whole body yearns for his. For this thing I’ve been denying myself. For physical affection. For our bodies joined. For his arms around me all night. It’s going to hurt when he walks away. But you know what? It’ll hurt more if he walks away and we leave things like this, desperate and wanting, incomplete. My voice drops. “It’s like there’s someone I’ve been denying myself. All this time.

But what do I love when I love my God? ... Not the sweet melody of harmony and song; not the fragrance of flowers, perfumes, and spices; not manna or honey; not limbs such as the body delights to embrace. It is not these that I love when I love my God. And yet, when I love him, it is true that I love a light of a certain kind, a voice, a perfume, a food, an embrace; but they are of the kind that I love in my inner self, when my soul is bathed in light that is not bound by space; when it listens to sound that never dies away; when it breathes fragrance that is not borne away on the wind; when it tastes food that is never consumed by the eating; when it clings to an embrace from which it is not severed by fulfillment of desire. This is what I love when I love my God.

The soul of Sardinia lies in the hills of the interior and the villages peppered among them. There, in areas such as Nuoro and Ozieri, women bake bread by the flame of the communal oven, winemakers produce their potions from small caches of grapes adapted to the stubborn soil and acrid climate, and shepherds lead their flocks through the peaks and valleys in search of the fickle flora that fuels Sardinia's extraordinary cheese culture. There are more sheep than humans roaming this island- and sheep can't graze on sand. On the table, the food stands out as something only loosely connected to the cuisine of Italy's mainland. Here, every piece of the broader puzzle has its own identity: pane carasau, the island's main staple, eats more like a cracker than a loaf of bread, built to last for shepherds who spent weeks away from home. Cheese means sheep's milk manipulated in a hundred different ways, from the salt-and-spice punch of Fiore Sardo to the infamous maggot-infested casu marzu. Fish and seafood may be abundant, but they take a backseat to four-legged animals: sheep, lamb, and suckling pig. Historically, pasta came after bread in the island's hierarchy of carbs, often made by the poorest from the dregs of the wheat harvest, but you'll still find hundreds of shapes and sizes unfamiliar to a mainland Italian. All of it washed down with wine made from grapes that most people have never heard of- Cannonau, Vermentino, Torbato- that have little market beyond the island.

Subway restaurants agreed to remove the “yoga mat chemical” from their bread following a petition I started.1 Kraft decided to remove artificial food dyes from their kids’ mac and cheese products after I stormed their headquarters with over 200,000 petitions.2 Chick-fil-A’s chicken went antibiotic free following my meetings with them urging them to do so.3 Anheuser-Busch and Miller-Coors both agreed to publish their ingredients for the first time in history following another of my petitions.4 I was finishing up my first book, exposing the chemicals in our food, and it was slated to be out in a few short months. I had just published an investigation into Starbucks’ famous Pumpkin Spice Latte,5 calling them out for their use of “class IV” caramel coloring (a chemical linked to cancer).6 This piece went viral, with millions of views and shares (which ultimately led to Starbucks dropping this coloring from their drinks).

He ranted at me while I put out the next course: a dish of boiled pigeons enveloped in a blancmange, the best I had ever made, with pulverized chicken, rose water, almonds, sugar, capon broth, ginger, verjuice and cinnamon. I had them placed in a deep dish, poured on the blancmange and scattered the snow-white surface with a thick covering of poppy seeds until the silver dish seemed to hold nothing but tiny black grains. Over this I arranged stars cut out of fine silver foil. There was a breast of veal, stuffed with cheese, eggs, saffron, herbs and raisins, upon which I scattered the darkest rose petals I could find at the flower market. There was a soup of black cabbage; boiled calves' feet with a sauce of figs and black pepper; and boiled ducks with more sliced black truffle.

My go-to seasonings and spices: Cayenne pepper Chili powder Cilantro Dill Garlic powder Onion powder Oregano Red pepper flakes Rosemary Salt-free taco seasoning

I make the very best halwa chebakia. With mint tea, or qamar-el-deen- you can take some home to your family." Such an offer cannot be refused. I know this from experience. Years of traveling with my mother have taught me that food is a universal passport. Whatever the constraints of language, culture or geography, food crosses over all boundaries. To offer food is to extend the hand of friendship; to accept is to be accepted into the most closed of communities. I wondered if Francis Reynaud had ever thought of this approach. Knowing him, he hasn't. Reynaud means well, but he isn't the type to buy halwa chebakia or to drink a glass of mint tea in the little café on the corner of the Boulevard P'tit Baghdad. I followed Fatima into the house, making sure to leave my shoes at the door. It was pleasantly cool inside and smelt of frangipani; the shutters closed since midday to guard against the heat of the sun. A door led into the kitchen, from which I caught the mingled scents of anise and almond and rosewater and chickpeas cooked in turmeric, and chopped mint, and toasted cardamom, and those wonderful halwa chebakia, sweet little sesame pastries deep-fried in oil, just small enough to pop into the mouth, flower-shaped and brittle and perfect with a glass of mint tea...

7 foods that Naturally cleanse your Liver This article lists the 7 best foods to eat to keep your liver healthy: 1. Garlic Garlic Garlic contains sulfur compounds that are essential for supporting the liver and activating liver enzymes that are answerable for flushing out toxins and waste from the body. Garlic additionally contains element, a very important mineral and nutrient that assists in detoxification and supports the ductless gland. 2. Walnuts These oddly-shaped balmy contain high levels of l-arginine, glutathione, and polyunsaturated fatty acid fatty acids, all of that facilitate to detoxify the liver and support poison elimination. Plus, they're nice for fighting inflammation and supporting the health of the brain. 3. Citrus Fruits Lemons, limes and grapefruits are all natural sources of water-soluble vitamin and contain several potent antioxidants. Like garlic, citrus fruits have the flexibility to spice up the assembly of liver detoxification enzymes. 4. Turmeric This unimaginable herb contains a large indefinite amount of antioxidants that facilitate to repair the liver cells, shield against cellular injury and assist in detoxification. Turmeric is especially smart at serving to the liver hospital ward from serious metals and assist in endocrine metabolism. Turmeric conjointly boosts the assembly of gall and improves the health of the bladder. You can create Associate in nursing array of delectable chuck victimisation turmeric, starting from pumpkin and turmeric soup to “golden ice.” 5. Broccoli Along with alternative genus Brassica vegetables, like Belgian capital sprouts, cabbage and cauliflower, broccoli contains sulfur compounds, similar to garlic, that facilitate to support the detoxification method and also the health of the liver. In fact, these fibrous veggies will facilitate flush out toxins from your gut, and that they contain compounds that facilitate support the liver in metabolising hormones. 6. Leafy Vegetables The bitterer, the better! Your liver loves bitter, therefore fill on blow ball, rapini, arugula, leaf mustard and chicory. These foliaceous greens contain varied cleansing compounds that neutralize serious metals, which might abate the liver’s ability to detoxify. Plus, they assist to stimulate digestive fluid flow. 7. Avocado This unimaginable fruit contains glutathione that may be a powerful inhibitor that helps to guard the liver from incoming waste and toxins. It conjointly assists the liver in eliminating these chemicals from your body and protects against cellular harm.

Any meal that includes all six tastes is balancing to all doshas. Unless someone is very imbalanced, a six-taste meal is enough. In the case of any imbalance, keep meals simple, light, fresh, and easy to digest. This will suit all doshas. Prepare a large single-course meal and adjust portion size and spicing for individual doshas. For example, say you make rice, mung dal, and sautéed greens for a group. A person with vata imbalance can make the rice their largest portion, and add an extra dollop of ghee or stir in their favorite warming spice. A person with pitta imbalance can have equal portions and add a generous garnish of fresh cilantro, mint, or dill. A person with kapha imbalance can reduce the portion of rice, favoring instead the dal and the greens, and sprinkle with red pepper flakes. Use meal plans as templates, and be creative. Repeat days that work well for you.. Pick one day of the week to prepare foods in advance.

you hate to cook and just want the cheapest, easiest way to make healthy meals, I highly recommend dietitian Jeff Novick’s Fast Food DVD series. Using common staples like canned beans, frozen vegetables, quick-cook whole grains, and spice mixes, Jeff shows you how you can feed your family healthfully in no time for about four dollars a day per person. The DVDs also include grocery store walk-

The spice you used in the pâte... that was allspice, right?" ALLSPICE The allspice plant is a tropical, mid-canopy tree. The leaves are dried fruits are often used as a cooking spice. It was given the name "allspice" because it combines the flavor of cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves. "It's a convenient spice for nullifying the smelliness of some ingredients. You used it to get rid of the smell from the chicken liver, right?" "O-oh! Um... Yes, but..." ? "I mean, for the last two days... all of you have tasted a whole lot of dishes for judging, right? And, um... allspice can be used not just to eliminate smells but also to aid digestion. I-I thought maybe...um... i-it would be nice if I could make a dish that's easier on the tummy..." WAAAAAAAAHHHH! "I knew it! I knew my darling Megumi was the best!" "Yes. Our eyes do not deceive us. We were right!

Just a little bit of bitter spinach... ... isn't nearly enough to explain that gushing riptide of savory salmon flavor! "You're right. There is another trick to it. When I made the crepe, I added both spinach... ... and this spice mix to it." "A SPICE MIX?!" Spice mixes, also called seasoning mixes or spice blends, are original mixes of herbs, seasonings, salt and pepper. Infinitely adjustable, spice mixes are the ultimate in seasoning, usable in just about every situation. "Spices!" "My mix uses salt, pepper, thyme, oregano, garlic... ... and dried bacon powder.

Wouldn't you agree that we've each made it this far precisely because each of us has pursued our own goals? Those around us are continually pressing forward, growing, learning and moving onward. Doesn't that in and of itself give us the courage to take that first step ourselves?" "Excuse me? You dare give your opinion to the Dean of the Totsuki Institute? You, a lowly servant of the Nakiri Family?!" "No! I-I'm not just a... a... I... I'm..." Come here with me! "I'm not just Miss Erina's aide... I'm also her friend!" "Hisako!" "KYAAAA!" "Secretary Girl!" "Father, Hisako is correct. Chefs who hold different views, different values, and who cook with different goals than I do... it was only because of my interactions with them that I could create this dish. Meeting those you call "contaminated," Father... ... is what transformed everything. They are the greatest spice cooking has to offer me.

PROTEIN SOUP This soup is very easy to digest and can be eaten all year long. You could live on it alone for quite some time if need be. I recommend it especially for anyone with digestive difficulties like gas, malabsorption of food, or chronic fatigue. This soup makes a great medicine to rebuild the body without digestive difficulties, and so is ideal for babies, women after giving birth, the elderly, or anyone in a weakened condition. Spicing beans with onions, hing (asafetida), cumin, fennel, cayenne, salt, pepper, and cardamom helps produce less gas. INGREDIENTS 1 cup split yellow mung beans 2 cups white basmati rice 1 inch fresh gingerroot, chopped 1 small handful fresh cilantro leaves, chopped 2 tbs. ghee (clarified butter) 1 tsp. turmeric 1 tsp. coriander powder 1 tsp. cumin powder 1 tsp. whole cumin seeds 1 tsp. mustard seeds 1 tsp. kosher or rock salt* 1 pinch hing (asafoetida) 7–10 cups water *Bragg Liquid Aminos can be added after cooking for flavor or to replace salt. Wash beans and rice together until water runs clear. In a large pot on medium heat mix ghee, mustard seeds, turmeric, hing, ginger, cumin seeds, cumin powder, and coriander powder, and stir together for a few minutes. Add rice and beans and stir again. Add the water and salt and bring to a boil. Boil for 10 minutes. Turn heat to low, cover pot, and continue to cook until rice and beans become soft (about 30–40 minutes). Add the cilantro leaves just before serving.

Recipes of Sita People have to be fed during a war. And so the kitchens of Lanka were busy. Those who were going to the war had to be fed; those who were returning from the war had to be fed. Food had to inspire, comfort and stir passions. The smell of rice boiling, vegetables frying and fish roasting filled the city streets, mingling with the smell of blood, rotting flesh and burning towers. The aromas reached Sita’s grove. ‘Don’t you like that smell?’ asked Trijata noticing Sita’s expression as she inhaled the vapours. Trijata, Vibhishana’s daughter, had become a friend. ‘If I was cooking, I would change the proportion of the spices,’ Sita said. She gave her suggestions to Trijata, who promptly conveyed them to the royal kitchen. Mandodari followed these instructions and soon a different aroma wafted out of the kitchen. So enticing was the resulting aroma that other rakshasa cooks came to the Ashoka grove and asked Sita for cooking tips. Without tasting the food, just by smelling what had been prepared, like a skilled cook, Sita gave her suggestions. ‘Add more salt.’ ‘Replace mustard with pepper.’ ‘Mix ginger with tamarind.’ ‘Less cloves, more coconut milk.’ These suggestions were promptly executed, and before long Lanka was full of the most delightful aromas and flavours, so delightful that sons and brothers and husbands and fathers wanted to stay back and relish more food. They wanted to burp, then sleep, then wake up and eat again. They wanted to chew areca nuts wrapped in betel leaves and enjoy the company of their wives on swings. No war, no fighting, just conversations over food. Ravana noticed the lethargy in his men, their reluctance to fight. They were not afraid. They were not drunk. They were just too happy to go to war. Furious, he ordered the kitchens to be closed. ‘Starve the soldiers. Hungry men are angry men. In anger they will kill the monkeys. The only food they can eat is monkey flesh.

The food category that averages the most antioxidants is herbs and spices.

Plant-based meals tend to be rich in antioxidants on their own, but taking a moment to spice up your life may make your meal even healthier.

The secrets of the kitchen were revealed to you in stages, on a need-to-know basis, just like the secrets of womanhood. You started wearing bras; you started handling the pressure cooker for lentils. You went from wearing skirts and half saris to wearing full saris, and at about the same time you got to make the rice-batter crepes called dosas for everyone’s tiffin. You did not get told the secret ratio of spices for the house-made sambar curry powder until you came of marriageable age. And to truly have a womanly figure, you had to eat, to be voluptuously full of food. This, of course, was in stark contrast to what was considered womanly or desirable in the West, especially when I started modeling. To look good in Western clothes you had to be extremely thin. Prior to this, I never thought about my weight except to think it wasn’t ever enough. Then, with modeling, I started depending on my looks to feed myself (though my profession didn’t allow me to actually eat very much). When I started hosting food shows, my career went from fashion to food, from not eating to really eating a lot, to put it mildly. Only this time the opposing demands of having to eat all this food and still look good by Western standards of beauty were off the charts. This tug-of-war was something I would struggle with for most of a decade.

Use all spices and herbs, except for salt. When using condiments, a little mustard is okay, but pickled foods contain too much salt and should be avoided. If you love to use ketchup or tomato sauce, you may find a lower-calorie, unsweetened ketchup at the health-food store and a tomato sauce made with no oil. Better yet, make your own tomato sauce with onion and garlic but no oil or salt.

I’m okay, Mom. Really.” My father hung back for a moment, as was his way. His eyes were wet and red. I looked at his face. He knew. He hadn’t bought the story about Africa with no phone service. He had probably helped peddle it to Mom. But he knew. “You’re so skinny,” Mom said. “Didn’t they feed you anything there?” “Leave him alone,” Dad said. “He looks fine.” “He doesn’t look fine. He looks skinny. And pale. Why are you in a hospital bed?” “I told you,” Dad said. “Didn’t you hear me, Ellen? Food poisoning. He’s going to be fine, some kind of dysentery.” “Why were you in Sierra Madre anyway?” “Sierra Leone,” Dad corrected. “I thought it was Sierra Madre.” “You’re thinking of the movie.” “I remember. With Humphrey Bogart and Katharine Hep-burn.” “That was The African Queen.” “Ohhh,” Mom said, now understanding the confusion. Mom let go of me. Dad moved over, smoothed my hair off my forehead, kissed my cheek. The rough skin from his beard rubbed against me. The comforting smell of Old Spice lingered in the air. “You okay?” he asked. I nodded. He looked skeptical. They both suddenly looked so old. That was how it was, wasn’t it? When you don’t see a child for even a little while, you marvel at how much they’ve grown. When you don’t see an old person for even a little while, you marvel at how much they’ve aged. It happened every time. When did my robust parents cross that line? Mom had the shakes from Parkinson’s. It was getting bad. Her mind, always a tad eccentric, was slipping somewhere more troubling. Dad was in relatively good health, a few minor heart scares, but they both looked so damn old.

I see a lavish procession of frothy strawberry mousses, strips of smoked eel, bundles of mixed seaweed and mushrooms, exquisite spiced biscuits and specialist honeys. The photographs show pyramids, three-arched bridges, palaces with several floors and balconies and terraces- works of art for the delectation of the mouth. I admire a Golden Gate Bridge made of nougatine, an Eiffel Tower of profiteroles and a Taj Mahal in meringue.

The first dishes, carried out on Barroni's exquisite silver platters, were a selection of marzipan fancies, shaped into hearts and silvered; a mostarda of black figs in spiced syrup; skewers of prosciutto marinated in red wine that I had reduced until it was thick and almost black; little frittate with herbs, each covered with finely sliced black truffles; whole baby melanzane, simmered in olive oil, a recipe I had got from a Turkish merchant I had met in the bathhouse. I set about putting the second course together. I heated two kinds of biroldi, blood sausages: one variety I had made pig's blood, pine nuts and raisins; the other was made from calf's blood, minced pork and pecorino. Quails, larks, grey partridge and figpeckers were roasting over the fire, painted with a sauce made from grape molasses, boiled wine, orange juice, cinnamon and saffron. They blackened as they turned, the thick sauce becoming a lovely, shiny caramel. There were roasted front-quarters of hare, on which would go a deep crimson, almost black sauce made from their blood, raisins, boiled wine and black pepper. Three roasted heads of young pigs, to which I had added tusks and decorated with pastry dyed black with walnut juice so that they resembled wild boar, then baked. Meanwhile, there was a whole sheep turning over the fire, more or less done, but I was holding it so that it would be perfect. The swan- there had to be a swan, Baroni had decided- was ready. I attached it to the armature of wire I had made, so that it stood up regally. The sturgeon, which I had cooked last night at home, and had finally set in aspic at around the fourth hour after midnight, was waiting in a covered salver. There were black cabbage leaves rolled around hazelnuts and cheese; rice porridge cooked in the Venetian style with cuttlefish ink; and of course the roebuck, roasting as well, but already trussed in the position I had designed for it.

NOURISHING TRADITIONAL FOODS Proteins: Fresh, pasture-raised meat including beef, lamb, game, chicken, turkey, duck and other fowl; organ meats from pastured animals; seafood of all types from deep sea waters; fresh shellfish in season; fish eggs; fresh eggs from pastured poultry; organic fermented soy products in small amounts. Fats: Fresh butter and cream from pasture-fed cows, preferably raw and cultured; lard and beef, lamb, goose and duck fat from pastured animals; extra virgin olive oil; unrefined flax seed oil in small amounts; coconut oil and palm oil. Dairy: Raw, whole milk and cultured dairy products, such as yoghurt, piima milk, kefir and raw cheese, from traditional breeds of pasture-fed cows and goats. Carbohydrates: Organic whole grain products properly treated for the removal of phytates, such as sourdough and sprouted grain bread and soaked or sprouted cereal grains; soaked and fermented legumes including lentils, beans, and chickpeas; sprouted or soaked seeds and nuts; fresh fruits and vegetables, both raw and cooked; fermented vegetables. Beverages: Filtered, high-mineral water; lacto-fermented drinks made from grain or fruit; meat stocks and vegetable broths. Condiments: Unrefined sea salt; raw vinegar; spices in moderation; fresh herbs; naturally fermented soy sauce and fish sauce.

Rynelf returned with the spiced wine steaming in a flagon and four silver cups. It was just what one wanted, and as Lucy and Edmund sipped it they could feel the warmth going right down to their toes. But Eustace made faces and spluttered and spat it out and was sick again and began to cry again and asked if they hadn’t any Plumptree’s Vitaminized Nerve Food and could it be made with distilled water and anyway he insisted on being put ashore at the next station. “This is a merry shipmate you’ve brought us, Brother,” whispered Caspian to Edmund with a chuckle.

The green sponge turned out to be fu (wheat gluten), a high-protein Buddhist staple food often flavored with herbs and spices. The pink-and-yellow cigarette lighters turned out to be yogurts. The lime-green yo-yos were rice taffy cakes bulging with sweet white bean paste. As for the vermilion-colored mollusks, they were a kind of cockle called blood clams (or arc shell) and, according to Tomiko, "delicious as sushi." The jumbo green sprouts came from the daikon radishes and were "tasty in salads." And the pebbly-skinned yellow fruit was yuzu, an aromatic citrus with a lemony pine flavor that was "wonderful in soup.

The loin of Cinta Senese had been sitting in the cold room, begging to be cooked. I'd shown it to Filippo- This is our supper, I'd said, and he'd replied that supper was too far away, and didn't the painters deserve the best, serving God as they did? So I'd grabbed it, along with some garlic, thyme, rosemary, peppercorns and nutmeg. Surely they'd have salt at the studio... Filippo had bought some onions, a flask of milk and a hunk of prosciutto on the way. I hunted around in the small, chaotic niche where the artists kept their food and discovered a dusty flask of olive oil. Sniffing it dubiously, I found it was quite fresh: the dark green oil from the hills behind Arezzo. In Florence we almost always cooked in lard, oil would do in a pinch. The kiln was lit but not being used for anything, and the fire was dying down. I threw some pieces of oak onto it, chopped the onions and the ham with a borrowed knife, cut the loin away from the ribs. The artists had a trivet and some old pans which they used to cook with every now and again, though mostly they lived on pies from the cook-shop up the street. There was an earthenware pot with a cracked lid, which seemed clean enough. I put it on the trivet, poured in a good stream of the green oil, browned the meat in its wrapping of fatty rind. Sandro gave up a cup of white wine, unwillingly, which I threw over the pork. When it had cooked off, I crushed two big cloves of garlic and added them along with the rosemary I had brought, and a handful of thyme. The milk had just foamed, and I poured it over the meat. The air filled with a rich, creamy, meaty waft.

Chicken Cacciatore I am a lover of braised meats, whether it’s pot roast or short ribs or beef brisket…or this beautiful stewed chicken dish. Just give me some meat, a pot with a lid, and some combination of liquid ingredients, and I’ll be eating out of your hand…as long as your hand is holding braised meat. That might have been the weirdest introductory sentence of any recipe I’ve ever written. Chicken cacciatore generally involves browning chicken pieces in a pot over high heat, then sautéing a mix of vegetables--onions, peppers, mushrooms, tomatoes--in the same pot. Spices are added, followed by a little wine and broth, and the chicken and veggies are allowed to cook together in the oven long enough for magic to happen… And magic does happen. I use chicken thighs for this recipe because I happen to love chicken thighs. But you can use a cut-up whole chicken or a mix of your favorite pieces. Just be sure to leave the skin on or you’ll regret it the rest of your life. Not that I’m dramatic or anything.

Well, I was sure this handsome buck would follow us both out, but when I got back to the kitchen, there he still was picking at some leftover Cajun popcorn in a bowl on the counter. "Oh, don't eat that!" I almost screamed. "It's awful cold. And, besides, you need to dip it in garlic mayonnaise for it to be really good." "I think it's pretty good as is," he said, and suddenly I began to wonder if maybe I looked too heavy in the loose harlequin pants and metallic gold shirt I was wearing. "What's it called?" "Cajun popcorn." "But it's fried shrimp, isn't it?" "Yeah, though over in Louisiana they usually use crawfish." "Why's it called popcorn?" "I have no earthly idea. Maybe 'cause people it fast as popcorn." "What all's in it?" I was now rinsing and drying some platters with a dishcloth and in a hurry to put out some more nutty fingers. "You do ask a lot of questions, Mr. Webster," I kidded him. "Sure you're not some hotshot chef out looking to steal recipes?" He laughed and said, "Jerry. Call me Jerry. And no, I'm no recipe thief. I simply love good food and am always looking for new ideas." "Okay, Jerry, there's everything in that battered popcorn except the kitchen stove." "Like what?" he kept on. "Like garlic and onion and a few hundred herbs and spices- and lots of love." He smiled and asked, "Deep fried?" "Yep, in peanut oil, but not too long- no more than about two minutes. Gotta be crisp on the outside but not overcooked.

The wrinkly texture of the yuba is interesting. Does it add much to the flavor though?" I took my first bite. "Hm. Yes, I think so. It's very thin and crackled, almost like chicken skin. And, look, it's bonded to the fish somehow. But what I really like is this gingerbread puree and cranberry bean soil. It's so unique. The gingerbread spices sort of unlock the monkfish's meatiness and muscle. Then the bean soil scratches your tongue and sort of forces the flavors into deeper levels of taste. And I love how you can't place it. It's not ethnic, it's not market-driven, it's its own thing.

With the first glass of wine, the stilted silence prevails. A plate of warm buffalo mozzarella appears, speckled with pink peppercorns, and something about that combination of tang and spice, cream and crunch, tells you that tonight will be different from the others you've spent in Japan. With the second glass of wine, your neighbors look over and offer a kanpai. Another plate arrives, this one a few pieces of seared octopus, the purple tentacles curled like crawling vines around a warm mound of barely mashed potatoes.

Fukuoka, more than any other city in Japan, is responsible for ramen's rocket-ship trajectory, and the ensuing shift in Japan's cultural identity abroad. Between Hide-Chan, Ichiran, and Ippudo- three of the biggest ramen chains in the world- they've brought the soup to corners of the globe that still thought ramen meant a bag of dried noodles and a dehydrated spice packet. But while Ichiran and Ippudo are purveyors of classic tonkotsu, undoubtedly the defining ramen of the modern era, Hideto has a decidedly different belief about ramen and its mutability. "There are no boundaries for ramen, no rules," he says. "It's all freestyle." As we talk at his original Hide-Chan location in the Kego area of Fukuoka, a new bowl arrives on the table, a prototype for his borderless ramen philosophy. A coffee filter is filled with katsuobushi, smoked skipjack tuna flakes, and balanced over a bowl with a pair of chopsticks. Hideto pours chicken stock through the filter, which soaks up the katsuobushi and emerges into the bowl as clear as a consommé. He adds rice noodles and sawtooth coriander then slides it over to me. Compared with other Hide-Chan creations, though, this one shows remarkable restraint. While I sip the soup, Hideto pulls out his cell phone and plays a video of him layering hot pork cheeks and cold noodles into a hollowed-out porcelain skull, then dumping a cocktail shaker filled with chili oil, shrimp oil, truffle oil, and dashi over the top. Other creations include spicy arrabbiata ramen with pancetta and roasted tomatoes, foie gras ramen with orange jam and blueberry miso, and black ramen made with bamboo ash dipped into a mix of miso and onions caramelized for forty-five days.

In theory, toppings can include almost anything, but 95 percent of the ramen you consume in Japan will be topped with chashu, Chinese-style roasted pork. In a perfect world, that means luscious slices of marinated belly or shoulder, carefully basted over a low temperature until the fat has rendered and the meat collapses with a hard stare. Beyond the pork, the only other sure bet in a bowl of ramen is negi, thinly sliced green onion, little islands of allium sting in a sea of richness. Pickled bamboo shoots (menma), sheets of nori, bean sprouts, fish cake, raw garlic, and soy-soaked eggs are common constituents, but of course there is a whole world of outlier ingredients that make it into more esoteric bowls, which we'll get into later. While shape and size will vary depending on region and style, ramen noodles all share one thing in common: alkaline salts. Called kansui in Japanese, alkaline salts are what give the noodles a yellow tint and allow them to stand up to the blistering heat of the soup without degrading into a gummy mass. In fact, in the sprawling ecosystem of noodle soups, it may be the alkaline noodle alone that unites the ramen universe: "If it doesn't have kansui, it's not ramen," Kamimura says. Noodles and toppings are paramount in the ramen formula, but the broth is undoubtedly the soul of the bowl, there to unite the disparate tastes and textures at work in the dish. This is where a ramen chef makes his name. Broth can be made from an encyclopedia of flora and fauna: chicken, pork, fish, mushrooms, root vegetables, herbs, spices. Ramen broth isn't about nuance; it's about impact, which is why making most soup involves high heat, long cooking times, and giant heaps of chicken bones, pork bones, or both. Tare is the flavor base that anchors each bowl, that special potion- usually just an ounce or two of concentrated liquid- that bends ramen into one camp or another. In Sapporo, tare is made with miso. In Tokyo, soy sauce takes the lead. At enterprising ramen joints, you'll find tare made with up to two dozen ingredients, an apothecary's stash of dried fish and fungus and esoteric add-ons. The objective of tare is essentially the core objective of Japanese food itself: to pack as much umami as possible into every bite.

Kamimura has been whispering all week of a sacred twenty-four-hour ramen spot located on a two-lane highway in Kurume where truckers go for the taste of true ramen. The shop is massive by ramen standards, big enough to fit a few trucks along with those drivers, and in the midafternoon a loose assortment of castaways and road warriors sit slurping their noodles. Near the entrance a thick, sweaty cauldron boils so aggressively that a haze of pork fat hangs over the kitchen like waterfall mist. While few are audacious enough to claim ramen is healthy, tonkotsu enthusiasts love to point out that the collagen in pork bones is great for the skin. "Look at their faces!" says Kamimura. "They're almost seventy years old and not a wrinkle! That's the collagen. Where there is tonkotsu, there is rarely a wrinkle." He's right: the woman wears a faded purple bandana and sad, sunken eyes, but even then she doesn't look a day over fifty. She's stirring a massive cauldron of broth, and I ask her how long it's been simmering for. "Sixty years," she says flatly. This isn't hyperbole, not exactly. Kurume treats tonkotsu like a French country baker treats a sourdough starter- feeding it, regenerating, keeping some small fraction of the original soup alive in perpetuity. Old bones out, new bones in, but the base never changes. The mother of all ramen. Maruboshi Ramen opened in 1958, and you can taste every one of those years in the simple bowl they serve. There is no fancy tare, no double broth, no secret spice or unexpected toppings: just pork bones, noodles, and three generations of constant simmering. The flavor is pig in its purest form, a milky broth with no aromatics or condiments to mitigate the purity of its porcine essence.

I make a list of my assets- caviar of aubergine, pepper salad, spiced fish, cheese pasties, potato salad with chilies, taramasalata, artichokes with oranges, broad beans with cumin, filou parcels of tuna and capers, triangular patties of meat, egg and coriander... I arrange intersections, detours, associations, improbable meetings. The exoticism will stretch from the Far East to Asia Minor. My battalions are lining up, an infantry of vegetables and a cavalry of crunchiness. I inspect my munitions between the flanks of my spice rack, curcuma and ras-el hanout standing to attention in their glass phials. Oregano, sage, poppy seeds, nigella, red berries, black peppercorns. I need mountains of garlic, pine kernels, olives, preserved lemons...

All around me, other dishes were taking shape: for the first service, a group of young girls were gilding candied plums, figs, oranges and apricots with fine gold leaf, and more gold was being smoothed onto sweet biscuits of fried dough cut into witty shapes and drenched in spiced syrup and rose water. There were torte of every kind: filled with pork belly and zucca; torte in the style of Bologna, filled with cheeses and pepper, and torte filled with capons and squabs. There were sausages, whole hams from all over the north of Italy. My suckling pigs were for the second service, alongside the lampreys, candied lemons wrapped in the finest sheet of silver, an enormous sturgeon in ginger sauce, a whole roast roebuck with gilded horns, cuttlefish cooked in their own ink.

One day they let me knead the ingredients for sausage meat, and the raw foods themselves seized me: lean pork and soft, white fat- The one talks to the other, said Carenza. Without the fat, the lean is too dry, and without the lean... she stuck out her tongue, too much. I grated some cheese: dry pecorino that had been in our larder for months, and some fresh marzolino, tasting both. Mace went in, and cinnamon, and black pepper. How much salt? Mamma showed me in the palm of her hand, Let me sweep it into the bowl. Then she broke some eggs onto the mixture. This is my secret, she said, and grated the rind of an orange so that the crumbs covered everything in a thin layer of gold. Do you want to mix it, Nino? Almost laughing with excitement, I plunged my fingers through the cold silkiness of the eggs, feeling the yolks pop, then made fists deep inside the meat. I could smell the orange, the pork, the cheese, the spices, and then they started to melt together into something else. When it was all mixed together I licked my fingers, though Carenza slapped my hand away from my mouth, and after we'd stuffed them into the slimy pink intestines and cooked up a few for ourselves, I discovered how the fire had changed the flavors yet again. The clear, fresh taste of the pork had deepened and intensified, while the cool blandness of the fat had changed into something rich and buttery that held the spices and the orange zest. And the salt seemed to have performed this magic, because it was everywhere, but at the same time hardly noticeable.

I shared my love of books with Benny, but Aunt Yolanda opened my eyes to the world of food as art, cooking without cans. She introduced me to the magic of spices, the exotic perfume of fresh herbs crushed between fingers. Younger than my mother, she was rounded in just the right spots, from her love of good food, and when we talked she looked right at me and listened, nodding and laughing loudly when I'd tell jokes, holding my hand when we'd walk, as if we were best friends or sisters. She liked Anne and Christine, too, but I could tell I was her favorite. She took me with her on shopping trips, to the fish market near the waterfront and the farm stands out west. Sometimes she'd journey to the Asian grocers in Northeast Portland or the hippie vegetarian markets on Hawthorne to find something special. We'd come home laden with ingredients that I knew my mother had never heard of, and the resulting feasts would fill me with a yearning to go to different places, to try new things.

After that, she talked about the food. The spices. How they used to make lentils and rice on Thursday and fried fish on Friday and how they prepared sheets of tomato paste or apricots and left them to dry on the rooftops.

dry not only my sponges but also my cutting boards, colanders, and dishes on my veranda. Sunlight is a good disinfectant, and my kitchen always looks very tidy because I don’t need a dish rack. In fact, I don’t even own a dish rack. I put all the dishes I wash into a large bowl or colander and place this on the veranda to dry. I can wash them in the morning and just leave them outside. This is an excellent solution for people living on their own or for those who don’t use many dishes. Where do you store your oil, salt, pepper, soy sauce, and other seasonings? Many people keep them right beside the stove because they want them close at hand for the sake of convenience. If you are one of these people, I hope you will rescue them right now. For one thing, a counter is for preparing food, not for storing things. Counter space beside the stove, in particular, is exposed to splatters of food and oil, and the seasonings kept here are usually sticky with grease. Rows of bottles in this area also make it much harder to keep clean, and the kitchen area will always be covered in a film of oil. Kitchen shelves and cupboards are usually designed to store seasonings and spices, so put them away where they belong. Quite often, a long, narrow drawer is located next to the oven that can be used for this purpose.

The broth was nearly clear and colorless, singing with notes of the sea- and Belle had never actually been to the sea. When she broke her bread to dip, the crust shattered, the crumb inside moist to the point of almost being a custard. The terrine was so rich she managed only one tiny demitasse spoonful. She and her father didn't eat fancily but they ate well enough and even had meat once or twice a week. The herbs that still flourished in her mother's garden spiced up dishes more than it seemed like they should have. They supped well, like all Frenchmen and women. But even Christmas was nothing compared to this. Belle suddenly realized she was shoveling it all in like a character from one of those stories who was tricked into eating magic food until he exploded or grew too large to escape. And a slightly more down-to-earth part of her spoke up warningly, in what she liked to pretend was her mother's voice: You are, at the very least, going to have an extremely upset stomach from this rich new food.

A depachika is like nothing else. It is the endless bounty of a hawker's bazaar, but with Japanese civility. It is Japanese food and foreign food, sweet and savory. The best depachika have more than a hundred specialized stands and cannot be understood on a single visit. I felt as though I had a handle on Life Supermarket the first time I shopped there, but I never felt entirely comfortable in a depachika. They are the food equivalent of Borges's "The Library of Babel": if it's edible, someone is probably selling it, but how do you find it? How do you resist the cakes and spices and Chinese delis and bento boxes you'll pass on the way? At the Isetan depachika, in Shinjuku, French pastry god Pierre Hermé sells his signature cakes and macarons. Not to be outdone, Franco-Japanese pastry god Sadaharu Aoki sells his own nearby. Tokyo is the best place in the world to eat French pastry. The quality and selection are as good as or better than in Paris, and the snootiness factor is zero. I wandered by a collection of things on sticks: yakitori at one stand, kushiage at another. Kushiage are panko-breaded and fried foods on sticks. At any depachika, you can buy kushiage either golden and cooked, or pale and raw to fry at home. Neither option is terribly appetizing: the fried stuff is losing crispness by the second, and who wants to deep-fry in a poorly ventilated Tokyo apartment in the summer? But the overall effect of the display is mesmerizing: look at all the different foods they've put on sticks! Pork, peppers, mushrooms, squash, taro, and two dozen other little cubes.

There are no memories in my mouth of breakfast or lunch; everything tastes the same. I think I miss spices. Food should hold memories.

For my first home-cooked meal in Tokyo, I took an assortment of beautiful Japanese ingredients and did what came naturally: I made Chinese food. I stir-fried some beautifully marbled kurobuta (Berkshire breed) pork with bok choy, ginger, and leeks, sauced it with soy sauce, mirin, and vinegar, and served it over rice, sprinkled with shichimi tōgarashi seven-spice mixture. This seemed like a reasonable act of Japanese-Chinese fusion. I made some quick-pickled cucumbers on the side. This was before we discovered that anything you do to a Japanese cucumber diminishes it. I should have known this; once I interviewed a Japanese-American farmer who grows more than a hundred Asian vegetables in Washington state. Naturally, I asked him about his personal favorite. Cucumber, he said. "How do you prepare it?" I asked. "Slice and eat." The whole meal was about the same as something I'd make at home, but I cooked it in Japan. It was like the SpongeBob SquarePants episode where SpongeBob has to work the night shift at the Krusty Krab, and he keeps saying things like, "I'm chopping lettuce... at night!" I was slicing cucumbers... in Tokyo!

From time to time she tasted his food. The sausage was delicious, seasoned with ginger and spices. His sides were all buttery and rich- the mushrooms sautéed in butter, the tattie scones cooked in butter. She tried the black pudding with trepidation. It wasn't her favorite item, but it wasn't awful. It tasted a bit like liverwurst mixed with oatmeal. All of his dishes were rich and heavy. She had to lighten up their menu. Her vegetables looked beautiful- red and yellow tomatoes, grilled Portobello mushrooms, purple potatoes. Colorful, bright, bursting with flavor. She prepared an orange marmalade, another Scottish specialty, and paired it with crispy challah toast. Cady and Em would have loved that part. The fruit salad was all citrus and lemon basil. The sauce fruity and tart.

The cuisine of Northern Iran, overlooked and underrated, is unlike most Persian food in that it's unfussy and lighthearted as the people from that region. The fertile seaside villages of Mazandaran and Rasht, where Soli grew up before moving to the congested capital, were lush with orchards and rice fields. His father had cultivated citrus trees and the family was raised on the fruits and grains they harvested. Alone in the kitchen, without Zod's supervision, he found himself turning to the wholesome food of his childhood, not only for the comfort the simple compositions offered, but because it was what he knew so well as he set about preparing a homecoming feast for Zod's only son. He pulled two kilos of fava beans from the freezer. Gathered last May, shucked and peeled on a quiet afternoon, they defrosted in a colander for a layered frittata his mother used to make with fistfuls of dill and sprinkled with sea salt. One flat of pale green figs and a bushel of new harvest walnuts were tied to the back of his scooter, along with two crates of pomegranates- half to squeeze for fresh morning juice and the other to split and seed for rice-and-meatball soup. Three fat chickens pecked in the yard, unaware of their destiny as he sharpened his cleaver. Tomorrow they would braise in a rich, tangy stew with sour red plums, their hearts and livers skewered and grilled, then wrapped in sheets of lavash with bouquets of tarragon and mint. Basmati rice soaked in salted water to be steamed with green garlic and mounds of finely chopped parsley and cilantro, then served with a whole roasted, eight kilo white fish stuffed with barberries, pistachios, and lime. On the farthest burner, whole bitter oranges bobbed in blossom syrup, to accompany rice pudding, next to a simmering pot of figs studded with cardamom pods for preserves.

Alone in the kitchen, without Zod's supervision, he found himself turning to the wholesome food of his childhood, not only for the comfort the simple compositions offered, but because it was what he knew so well as he set about preparing a homecoming feast for Zod's only son. He pulled two kilos of java beans from the freezer. Gathered last May, shucked and peeled on a quiet afternoon, they defrosted in a colander for a layered frittata his mother used to make with fistfuls of dill and sprinkled with sea salt. One flat of pale green figs and a bushel of new harvest walnuts were tied to the back of his scooter, along with two crates of pomegranates- half to squeeze for fresh morning juice and the other to split and seed for rice-and-meatball soup. Three fat chickens pecked in the yard, unaware of their destiny as he sharpened his cleaver. Tomorrow they would braise in a rich, tangy stew with sour red plums, their hearts and livers skewered and grilled, then wrapped in sheets of lavash with bouquets of tarragon and mint. Basmati rice soaked in salted water to be steamed with green garlic and mounds of finely chopped parsley and cilantro, then served with a whole roasted, eight kilo white fish stuffed with barberries, pistachios, and lime. On the farthest burner, whole bitter oranges bobbed in blossom syrup, to accompany rice pudding, next to a simmering pot of figs studded with cardamom pods for preserves.

I slice fresh garlic, rub it into the meat with olive oil, then insert the thin wafers into tiny slits I cut along the grain. After rinsing my hands, I hold them to my face, inhale the garlic perfume still on my skin. I could easily wipe it away on the faucet, a spoon, any piece of stainless steel, but I've never understood why people find it offensive. It's the smell of anticipation, the promise of a wonderful meal in the offing. Opening the spice cabinet, I breathe in the fragrance of all those jars I left behind: saffron threads, cardamom pods, star anise, Tahitian vanilla. I almost weep at the sight of my Fleur de Sel. No one ever gets my obsession with sea salt, especially expensive sea salt. They don't understand that it brightens the flavor of food, wakes it up, like a condiment. Regular table salt just makes food salty.

I sent messengers across Italy: to our farms for wood pigeons, dormice, capons, and heaping baskets of grapes, apples, and beets; to the fields beyond Rome for fresh pears; to Nomentanum for amphorae of wine, some more than forty years old; to Praeneste for hazelnuts; and to the plains between Ostia and Lavinium for wild boar and deer. I sent men to Ostia for fresh, salty mackerel and mussels and to Mount Hymettus for the finest honey to dilute the Falernian wine we had on stock at home for the princeps and all the senators. I purchased ginger, nutmeg, cloves, and other spices from India and Taprobane, not only to flavor the food but to present as gifts. I even sent a man to Sicilia for green and black olives and for the olive relish that was a specialty of the region. I reveled in the planning of such a massive banquet.

I spent an inordinate amount of time at the markets, Apicius on my heels, purchasing the most costly spices; reams of opulent silk for pillow coverings; ornate, one-of-a-kind oil lamps; and hundred-year-old wines so thick that only the best honey, lead, and spices would bring them back to life. I buried fish in salt, and sealed plums in spirits and left them to age in the dark. I made Roman absinthe and apple wine. I bought the best suckling pigs and began to fatten them on the most expensive figs. I fed our goats a specially sourced mixture of apples, hay, and clover to give their milk new flavor.

Every Day Take Your Daily Doses Black Cumin (Nigella sativa) (¼ tsp) As noted in the Appetite Suppression section, a systematic review and meta-analysis of randomized, controlled weight-loss trials found that about a quarter teaspoon of black cumin powder every day appears to reduce body mass index within a span of a couple of months. Note that black cumin is different from regular cumin, for which the dosing is different. (See below.) Garlic Powder (¼ tsp) Randomized, double-blind, placebo-controlled studies have found that as little as a daily quarter teaspoon of garlic powder can reduce body fat at a cost of perhaps two cents a day. Ground Ginger (1 tsp) or Cayenne Pepper (½ tsp) Randomized controlled trials have found that ¼ teaspoon to 1½ teaspoons a day of ground ginger significantly decreased body weight for just pennies a day. It can be as easy as stirring the ground spice into a cup of hot water. Note: Ginger may work better in the morning than evening. Chai tea is a tasty way to combine the green tea and ginger tweaks into a single beverage. Alternately, for BAT activation, you can add one raw jalapeño pepper or a half teaspoon of red pepper powder (or, presumably, crushed red pepper flakes) into your daily diet. To help beat the heat, you can very thinly slice or finely chop the jalapeño to reduce its bite to little prickles, or mix the red pepper into soup or the whole-food vegetable smoothie I featured in one of my cooking videos on NutritionFacts.org.4985 Nutritional Yeast (2 tsp) Two teaspoons of baker’s, brewer’s, or nutritional yeast contains roughly the amount of beta 1,3/1,6 glucans found in randomized, double-blind, placebo-controlled clinical trials to facilitate weight loss. Cumin (Cuminum cyminum) (½ tsp with lunch and dinner) Overweight women randomized to add a half teaspoon of cumin to their lunches and dinners beat out the control group by four more pounds and an extra inch off their waists. There is also evidence to support the use of the spice saffron, but a pinch a day would cost a dollar, whereas a teaspoon of cumin costs less than ten cents. Green Tea (3 cups) Drink three cups a day between meals (waiting at least an hour after a meal so as to not interfere with iron absorption). During meals, drink water, black coffee, or hibiscus tea mixed 6:1 with lemon verbena, but never exceed three cups of fluid an hour (important given my water preloading advice). Take advantage of the reinforcing effect of caffeine by drinking your green tea along with something healthy you wish you liked more, but don’t consume large amounts of caffeine within six hours of bedtime. Taking your tea without sweetener is best, but if you typically sweeten your tea with honey or sugar, try yacon syrup instead. Stay

Every Day Take Your Daily Doses Black Cumin (Nigella sativa) (¼ tsp) As noted in the Appetite Suppression section, a systematic review and meta-analysis of randomized, controlled weight-loss trials found that about a quarter teaspoon of black cumin powder every day appears to reduce body mass index within a span of a couple of months. Note that black cumin is different from regular cumin, for which the dosing is different. (See below.) Garlic Powder (¼ tsp) Randomized, double-blind, placebo-controlled studies have found that as little as a daily quarter teaspoon of garlic powder can reduce body fat at a cost of perhaps two cents a day. Ground Ginger (1 tsp) or Cayenne Pepper (½ tsp) Randomized controlled trials have found that ¼ teaspoon to 1½ teaspoons a day of ground ginger significantly decreased body weight for just pennies a day. It can be as easy as stirring the ground spice into a cup of hot water. Note: Ginger may work better in the morning than evening. Chai tea is a tasty way to combine the green tea and ginger tweaks into a single beverage. Alternately, for BAT activation, you can add one raw jalapeño pepper or a half teaspoon of red pepper powder (or, presumably, crushed red pepper flakes) into your daily diet. To help beat the heat, you can very thinly slice or finely chop the jalapeño to reduce its bite to little prickles, or mix the red pepper into soup or the whole-food vegetable smoothie I featured in one of my cooking videos on NutritionFacts.org.4985

It had been illuminating to watch Carmen really dig in and cook without commercial interruption, without cameras. Her pout was gone, replaced by a look of studious concentration, and she had chopped and minced and blended spices to create amazing bursts of flavor. The sofrito she had made, saucing together onion, tomato, and garlic in olive oil, had elevated the toasted chicken into a fragrant and unforgettable dish.

. . . I easily put together turbot in a butter sauce and an almond soup made from mutton I'd left to boil with spices, pulverized almonds, and leftover chopped boiled eggs from breakfast. No food need be wasted when it can be turned into a tasty soup. For meat I gave the family pork cutlets that had been boiled then fried quickly with breadcrumbs and butter and a little onion Mary had chopped. Then greens - dandelion, chervil, and lettuce - served warm with butter and a sprinkling of new cheese, peas with a bit of ham, all accompanied by my crusty bread that Mary had baked at the correct time. She was learning quickly, I was happy to see. For pudding I sent up fruit and cheese as I'd had no time to prepare a tart or cake. I could only do so much.

The core of the fragrance Hayama is trying to build... ... is Jeneverbes." "Jene... verbes?" "That means juniper berries!" JENEVERBES (JUNIPER BERRIES) Perhaps the only spice derived from a conifer, juniper berries have been used as a spice as far back as ancient Egypt. They have been found in multiple pharaohs' tombs, including King Tut's. In the Middle Ages, juniper berries were added to distilled malt wine to make Jenever, the direct predecessor to gin. The berries have a piney tang that, as they mature, gains citrusy sweet notes and a fresh herby scent, making it a spice with a complex and layered aroma. "Add milk and flour to bear stock to make a thick and creamy roux, and then let it simmer. When it has turned fragrant and golden brown, add the seasonings and spices... ... to make a perfect, fragrant gravy to adorn my fried bear!

WHOA! Now that's some thick-cut bacon!" "Oh my gosh! Look! The top of it is gleaming! Just looking at it is making me hungry..." "Wait a minute. If he's copying the transfer student, then the meat he's using should be oxtail, right? So why is he bringing out bacon?" If he's adding bacon to beef stew, there's only one thing it could be. A GARNISH! THE BACON IS MEANT TO BE A SIDE DISH TO THE STEW. Yukihira's recipe is the type that calls for straining the demi-glace sauce at the end to give it a smooth texture. That means its only official ingredients are the meat and the sauce, making for a very plain dish. Garnishes of some sort are a necessity! Beef simmered in red wine- the French dish thought to be the predecessor to beef stew- always comes with at least a handful of garnishes. The traditional garnishes are croutons, glazed pearl onions, sautéed mushrooms... ... and bacon! Then that means... he's going to take that thick, juicy bacon and add it to the stew?!" "Now he's sautéing those extra-thick slices of bacon in butter! He's being just as efficient and delicate as always." "Man, the smell of that bacon is so good! It's smoky, yet still somehow mellow..." "What kind of wood chips did he use to give it that kind of scent?" "You wanna know what I used? Easy. It's mesquite." "Mess-keet?" "Have you heard of it?" "It's a small tree used for smoking that's native to Mexico and the Southern U.S. You'll hardly find it used anywhere in Japan though." "Ibusaki!" Mesquite is one of the most popular kinds of wood chips in Texas, the heartland of barbecues and grilling. Because of its sharp scent, it's mostly used in small quantities for smoking particularly rough cuts of meat, giving them a golden sheen. "But I didn't stop there! I added a secret weapon to my curing compound- Muscovado sugar! I sweetened my curing compound with Muscovado, sage, nutmeg, basil and other spices, letting the bacon marinate for a week! It will have boosted the umami of the bacon ten times over!

It's a special thick curry broth... ... that I made from bone stock, ginger, garlic and a handful of carefully selected curry spices. That's what that "moon" is made of. Add some gelatin to firm it up, wrap it in the pork bun meat and then cook it! Once it eventually crumbles, all that savory curry goodness seeps out into the mapo tofu noodles!

The small glass jars filled with a spread made from local smoked trout were packed into a cool box. Earlier in the week, Grace had helped her make the labels for the jars, as well as for the two puddings which she would serve the same way. The guests would be encouraged to take home any that were left, as well as the larger jars of pickled vegetables. She'd fermented cabbage with radishes, and cauliflower with haricots vests and carrots. The spice mixtures were not as hot as traditional kimchee- a concession to the bland English palate- but still had a good bit of pop. The spicy, crunchy veg made a perfect counterpoint to the soft creaminess of the smoked lamb and beans. Those she was serving together, in individual camping tins, to be warmed just before lunch in the Beck House warming ovens. It was all a bit precious, the jars and the tins, but she wanted the meal to be something people would remember. She'd made a seeded crispbread for the potted trout course, and flatbreads to serve warm with the lamb and pickles. In between the trout and the lamb she planned a salad course- fresh greens, topped with roasted pear halves she'd done the previous day, a local soft blue cheese, and a drizzle of caramel.

In the Dietary Inflammatory Index, the single most anti-inflammatory food is the spice turmeric, followed by ginger and garlic, and the most anti-inflammatory beverage is green or black tea. The two most anti-inflammatory food components are fiber and flavones.1021 Dietary fiber is found in all whole plant foods, but it is most concentrated in legumes, such as beans, split peas, chickpeas, and lentils.1022 Flavones are plant compounds concentrated in herbs, vegetables, and fruits,

So luscious! The dressing is extra-virgin olive oil and wine vinegar exquisitely melded with pureed pike liver. The rich, full-bodied flavor of the liver seeps into the tongue, gracefully underscoring the mild sweetness of the fatty meat. I feel like I'm drowning in a tidal wave of flavor and fragrance! Unbelievable! How many spices must he have mixed to-" "No. The spice used in this dish... ... is allspice alone." "What?!" "I thought Hayama's talent lay in the mixing of varied exotic spices to create the perfect fragrance." "No, his skill is in manipulating fragrance itself. He can do more than just add more spices into his recipes. In fact, this time he subtracted spices instead. In so doing, he accentuated the freshness and flavor of the in-season pike.

Under the name The Waterson Family, they made their recording debut for Topic, one of four upcoming acts on the showcase compilation Folk-Sound of Britain (1965). Dispensing with guitars and banjos, they hollered unadorned close harmonies into a stark, chapel-like hush. The consensus was that they ‘sounded traditional’, but in a way no other folk singers did at the time. It was the result of pure intuition: there was no calculation in their art. When Bert Lloyd once commented joyfully on their mixolydian harmonies, they had to resort to a dictionary. Later in 1965 the quartet gathered around the microphone set up in the Camden Town flat of Topic producer Bill Leader and exhaled the extraordinary sequence of songs known as Frost and Fire. In his capacity as an artistic director of Topic, Lloyd curated the album’s contents. Focusing on the theme of death, ritual sacrifice and resurrection, he subtitled it A Calendar of Ritual and Magical Songs. The fourteen tracks are divided by calendrical seasons, and the four Watersons begin and end the album as midwinter wassailers, a custom popularised in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries as groups of singers – ‘waits’ – made the rounds of the towns and villages, proffering a decorated bowl of spiced ale or wine and asking – in the form of a song, or ‘wassail’ – for a charitable donation. Midwinter comes shortly before the time of the first ploughing in preparation for the sowing of that year’s new crop, and the waits’ money, or food and drink, can be considered a form of benign sacrifice against the success of the next growth and harvest. The wassail-bowl’s rounds were often associated with the singing of Christmas carols.

Lada hated herself for it, but she loved the food. Delicately spiced meats with cool, contrasting sauces, roasted vegetables, fresh fruits—every bite she enjoyed felt like treason. She should miss everything about Wallachia. She should hate everything about Edirne. But oh, the sweetness of the fruit. Perhaps she had a bit of Eve in her after all.

His main ingredient is sea bream... At least the head of one!" Aah, now I see. He's making Fish-Head Curry! FISH-HEAD CURRY Originating in Singapore and Malaysia... ... it uses the whole head of a white-meat fish so that even delicately flavorful parts, like the eyes and cheeks, can be enjoyed! "Next, he's put some baking powder into a bowl... ... along with baking soda... yogurt... It's naan! He's making naan bread!" "So he intends to serve his curry with naan instead of rice? That's fairly... ordinary." "I'd expected something a little more unique from Professor Shiomi's prized apprentice." "Isn't it a display of confidence on his part? Not relying on some wacky, unusual dish to generate surprise?" "No... That naan. If he's doing what I think he's doing...!" "Shhh. That's right, Jun. This... ... is just the beginning of my dish! " "Hayama has left the naan to rise... returning to his curry! He's adding a pinch of lemongrass for fragrance, and-" "Whoa! It's a dash of freshness to the otherwise mild and soft coconut milk..." "Just the refreshing scent is enough to make my mouth water!

Undue significance a starving man attaches to food Far off ; he sighs, and therefore hopeless, And therefore good. Partaken, it relieves indeed, but proves us That spices fly In the receipt. It was the distance Was savory.

Red pepper is the theme, but there's no sign of it in the noodles or broth. Does that one little dollop of paste on the side really have the oomph to compensate for that?" "It's harissa, a seasoning blend said to have originated in Northern Africa. The ingredients generally include paprika, caraway seeds, lemon juice and garlic, among other things. But the biggest is a ton of peppers, which are mashed into a paste and blended with those other spices." Oh! That's the same thing Dad made when he visited the dorm. I think I remember him saying it came from somewhere in Africa. "The ramen's broth is based on Chicken Muamba, another African recipe, where chicken and nuts are stewed together with tomatoes and chilies. This broth forms a solid backbone for the entire dish. Its zesty flavor amplifies the super-spicy harissa to explosive proportions!" "That's gotta be sooo spicy! Whoa! Are you sure it's a good idea to dump that much of it in all at once?!" "Hoooo!Thanks to the mellow, full-bodied and ever-so-slight astringency of that mountain of peanuts he infused into the broth... ... adding the harissa just makes the spiciness and richness of the overall dish grow deeper and more complex with each drop! Extra-thick cuts of Char Siu Pork, rubbed with homemade peanut butter before simmering! And the slightly thicker-than-usual wavy noodles! They soak up the broth and envelop the ultra-spiciness of the harissa... all together, it's addicting! Its deliciousness so intense that my body cries out from its heat! African Ramen... how very intriguing! A dish that never before existed anywhere in the world, but he's brought it to vibrant life!

So, you like a little pain with your pleasure, don’t you, naughty girl?” Syssi paused to think. “I guess it’s like sprinkling spice on a dish that is otherwise bland... I don’t like bland food.