Archive for February, 2009
More Morbier?
Feb 24th
It seems most people who are opposed to trying new foods cling to a childhood detest. While willing to hold their hand in flavor-adventures, I am more concerned with those who say “I’ll try anything once”. These people should realize the huge range of flavors, textures, smells, and other qualities that can exist within a single type of food. Onions for example can range wildly in sugar or sulfur content. Hummus can vary in texture and tartness, amongst other things.
What I’m getting at is that it takes a lot for me not to like something; I’ll try anything twice, at least, and usually more—probably until the day I die. I have to. I have to, because one instance of food does not represent the entire class which it represents.
So it shocked me when I found something that made me gag. Seriously. I almost threw up upon smelling it. I never almost throw up. Maybe it was the fact that the cheese I had bought itself smelled like vomit. I dragged it under the noses of semi-willing though hesitant friends, and I now consider them even truer friends for subjecting themselves to such cruelty for the satiation my disbelieving olfactory organs.
The cheese—a rich, creamy, AOC French variety called Morbier—stinks like puke. Like absolute vomit. It’s made with the extra Gruyère curd, from both the evening and morning. At night, they cover it with a layer of organic ashes. In the morning, a new batch of curd is spread on top—creating a black line through the middle of the cheese. The whole process is fascinating…really…and the cheese is extremely rich and luxurious but it is so hard to get past the puke–smell.
So here, I leave you. Know that I will try other Morbiers in my life. But for once, I will hesitate, until I find one that doesn’t make me wretch like a 2 AM fratboy on the corner of Oakland and Locust.
Workhorse Typefaces
Feb 22nd
Paula Scher, Stefan Sagmeister, and David Carson shattered the way I think about typography in their applications of organic, freehand character-writing. For so long, even non–conventional applications of digital typefaces seemed so dry, formal, forced. Letters drawn by hand were a fresh breath—no, a gasp! out of astonishment, but also for oxygen anew to fuel my little typographic grey cells.
Such typography, one comes quickly to realize, doesn’t suit all applications. In fact, it doesn’t suit most applications. The majority of typesetting isn’t done to draw attention to the text, but rather to make its characters melt their meaning with as little distraction as possible. It pays to know this—especially when that pay is coming from a client expecting your understanding of conventional typography to benefit her business.
That stated, listed below are the typefaces I most commonly employ. I use them for their stylistic range, completeness of character set, and most importantly, as a framework from which I can branch out and build more creativity—perhaps by employing or creating an entirely new typeface. No more delays. Here they are:
- ITC Garamond Std
- ITC New Baskerville Std
- Mrs. Eaves
- Futura Std
- Trade Gothic LT Std
- Helvetica Neue LT Std
I’d say I use these for 80% of the work I do. Other typefaces I might consider are listed below. Some are either related or variations of the faces above. Others are slowly building up to workhorse status, or are used in extremely specific instances.
- Adobe Garamond Pro
- Adobe Jenson Pro
- Avenir LT Std
- Univers LT Std
- Bodoni STD
- Frutiger
- Gill Sans
- Helvetica LT Std
- ITC Franklin Gothic Std
- Poetica
- Gotham HTF
What are your typographic workhorses?
Sauerkraut Update #1
Feb 10th
I took a peek at the slowly fermenting cabbage today and decided that it wasn’t going to ferment fast enough. The pieces I cut were closer to 3/8 of an inch to ½ an inch, rather than the ¼ inch I described in the original post. My apologies.
I grabbed my biggest wooden spoon—mind you, it is in fact quite large—and proceeded to mash and bash the cabbage until it exuded more water. After 5-10 minutes, I stopped and replaced the bag. A nice brine now slightly covers the cabbage and things should go slightly faster. I’ll update in a few days!
Oh, and the smell is divine. Nice and pungent and cabbagey. Not gross, but definitely not sterile. I. Love. Food.
Crockpot Sauerkraut
Feb 8th
There are few things more satisfying when eating than contrast. Crunchy, tart, sweet, sour, salty: sauerkraut compliments both itself and the foods it is commonly eaten with. When I lucked upon two heads of cabbage in my Growing Power Market Basket, it certainly wasn’t the first thing I thought to make. But with some research, and the promise of delicious lacto-fermented leaves of cabbagey goodness, I made my first batch this morning. This is definitely an in-process project, so I’ll write about the successes and failures in the weeks to come. Here’s how I started:
Ingredients:
- 2 small/medium heads of lettuce, outer leaves removed, about 2 pounds each. Washed, drained, and halved. I used green, but both red and green is ideal. Oh, and get organic if possible, as pesticides kill the natural bacteria that are necessary for the fermentation process.
- salt; I used Kosher, but pickling is supposedly ideal because of its grain size. Rock salt apparently works too. Also, avoid iodized salt as it will kill bacteria!
Equipment:
- large, clean food-grade container. I used a large ceramic crockpot, though a bucket or crock would work. The sides should be as straight as possible.
- a good (sharp) knife and cutting board
- a plastic bag capable of holding water without leaking. I used a garbage bag, and washed the outside before using it, in case of residues.
- water
- a 50-60°F area; cool, dark, and handsome. Okay, the handsome part is ridiculous. Yet I won’t delete it.
Instructions:
- Cut out the core. I had never tried it before, and was extremely pleased to find that it had a similar peppery heat to mustard greens.
- With the flat face down on the cutting board, cut each half into quarter-inch strips. You can go smaller or larger; smaller should decrease the time it takes for the fermentation to occur, while larger should take longer. Makes sense.
- Layer the cut cabbage into the vessel with salt. For every two pounds of cabbage, use 1 tablespoon of salt. For the record, 1 tablespoon equals 3 teaspoons. Mix everything together with your hands. You did wash them first, right? Press the cabbage down with your hands. Some people even bash it, to bruise the cabbage and get it to start releasing liquid sooner. You don’t have to do this, as the salt will draw the moisture out—but you could try it especially for red cabbage, which is harder. Point is, compact it as much as you can so it is not at the top of the vessel.
- Partially fill the plastic bag with water. The bag is going into the vessel, on top of the cabbage to both:
- press out more water
- keep air and other debris out, which allows fermentation rather than rotting
- to allow the resulting CO2 an escape (through the tiny gaps around the perimeter, between the bag and the vessel).
- Once the bag is in the vessel, add more water till it sufficiently is weighing the cabbage down. What is sufficient? I’d say at least a gallon or three of water, depending on how much cabbage you’re using. I’ve got about 2 gallons in my bag. Tie the bag up!
- Let the pre-kraut sit in a cool area, out of direct sunlight, and away from critters.
- Lift the bag, checking periodically. I’m going to give mine a taste after a week. It may only take a week. Two seems to be the ideal, but it’s all up to your palate. It may even take up to five weeks, so use your senses.
- If something stinks or seems otherwise awry, it probably is. Ditch the kraut and call the doctor if you’ve eaten it and feel…off. As always, I take no responsibility for your kitchen creations, so don’t blame me!
- If everything seems good, eat! Decide if it needs more time, or if it has gone past its prime. When it tastes good to you, you can jar and refrigerate it, or even bag and freeze it for later.
I’ll post further developments as they occur! Peace.
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