Pop culture treats: deep fried, homemade Twinkies
A. Camille Nicholson is a graduate student in Cultural Studies and English Literature. Although she worked as an E-Commerce Developer during the .com’s height, she attributes her burgeoning interest in the culinary/baking arts to her volunteer duties at a local non-profit bakery and the past two years teaching cooking classes for kids.
I have loved the Twinkie since the dawn of my birth. As a child of suburban New Jersey in the 1980s, my fuschia green lunchbox frequently entertained the usual elementary lineup: Watermelon Ssips, a bologna or peanut butter sandwich, chocolate milk (which inexplicably required school permission), and a member of the Hostess snack cake family — typically, its irascible younger sibling, the Twinkie.
I have consistently defended the Twinkie against verbal assaults from more nutritionally minded acquaintances. However, the Twinkie’s reputation is slightly better than what they assert, although, admittedly, by a small margin. Surprisingly, one Twinkie provides only 150 calories and 4.5 grams of fat. Although it contains corn derivatives and two types of glycerides, the only preservative embodied within its banana yellow sheath is absorbic acid. When introduced in 1933 during the Great Depression, its offering of two cakes for five cents assisted those enduring financial deficit.
Serving wine with turkey is easier than you might think
Our (apparently coerced) Guest-clacker today is Stephen Degon, a retired manufacturing and engineering executive whose hobbies include food and wine. That means he loves to cook, eat, and drink, but not write about it.
Well, it’s that time of year again, when we all start to think about the perfect Thanksgiving feast. Thanksgiving is such a special holiday because it reminds us of how fortunate we are, even if we are in the throws of a financial downturn. It means family and friends without the need for gifts. This should lead to a no stress holiday right?…WRONG! Everyone feels enormous pressure to make the perfect meal, accompanied by the perfect sides, and served alongside a perfect wine.
Which brings us to what we really want to talk about…wine. Turkey is a fowl, so it should have white wine, right? How about the dressing? Does it contain lots of meats? How are the veggies prepared? All of these questions should factor into your wine selection, but most important is “what kind of wine do you really like?”
Here are some suggestions, depending on your particular leanings.
Mushrooms: Delicious and misunderstood
Lauren’s back Guest-clacking for us again, after last sharing with us her diatribe on the atrocity that is mayonnaise.
I wouldn’t want anyone to think from my last post that I am a picky eater. I am, but I don’t want you to think that because I hate mayonnaise. Indeed, there are foods out there that other people looooooooathe — like I loathe the dreaded mayonnaise — that I just love.
My love of the fungus took a long time to procure. One of my first memories is sitting in preschool, in a big circle, and our teacher asked us to tell the class what our favorite food was. To say I was painfully shy when I was a kid is like saying Waterworld was a little bit terrible — a vast understatement. I was nearing the point of hyperventilation by the time the circle got around to me, and the only word I could manage to spit out was “mushrooms.” I had never eaten them, never even seen them outside of that one (kinda racist) scene in Fantasia, never had the desire to eat them at all. Yeah, I don’t know.
Well, somehow word got back to my parents that mushrooms were my favorite food and instead of rolling their eyes and going on about their day since kids lie all the time about random crap, WE WENT TO THE GROCERY STORE TO BUY MUSHROOMS. OMGWTFNOOOOO. The rest of the day is pretty hazy for me, but I probably cried a lot. And it took me years to finally give ‘em a whirl.
On mayonnaise and mustard
Today’s Guest-clacker, Lauren Delaney, works an incredibly exciting day job at a box factory, like John Locke from Lost. Unlike John Locke from Lost, she has a kid, loves to bake and drink (sometimes together, sometimes separate), and possesses no knowledge of how to slaughter a wild boar.
I am a woman of strong opinions. From politics to food to worthless reality celebutards, I have something to say about any and all of it. But nothing, and I mean NOTHING, not even Michael McDonald, arouses my ire more than mayonnaise. I will not call it “mayo,” because giving it a nickname somehow humanizes its putrid existence, like it’s trying to be beloved by all.
Well I for one will not stand for it! Mayonnaise is, quite frankly, The Devil. It is the most vile of all condiments. Sandwiches worldwide have been ruined by its wan pallor and sickly thick consistency (thinking about it now is making me mildly nauseous). The British and Dutch ruin their delicious chips and frites with mayonnaise.How can two seemingly innocent ingredients of eggs and oil come together and make such a nefarious concoction? The black magic of science, probably. (I’m not a food scientist, so the details aren’t very clear to me, but I think something called emulsion happens, which just sounds awful.)
Food Inc. – a movie’s call to action
Today’s Guest-clacker, Andrea, is a food enthusiast and all around geek with an interest in where her food comes from. Her interest in healthy eating comes from growing up in a household where processed food was limited, and a family that practices nutrition as preventative medicine. Her blog, Andrea the Gastronaut (a reference to a children’s song by a Canadian duo from the ’80s) can be found at http://www.canadianfoodiegirl.com.
Food Inc. begins with a stroll through the supermarket from the point of view of a grocery cart. The camera cuts between a supermarket tour and individual price signs and food labels superimposed with opening credits a la Weeds. The accompanying music is reminiscent of the score from a Tim Burton film as if to forewarn ominous or frightening events to come.
The film ends with a call to action, a list of steps that one can take to affect change.
In between the film is shot like a book. The opening credits serve as the introduction, or the prologue. Each titled section – or chapter – of the movie discusses a different food issue. Each chapter is a commentary on how big corporations are affecting our food with help from the U.S. government. The story becomes somewhat of a horror movie. The impact that big corporations have on farmers is frightening. Decisions affecting farmers are being made by company executives miles away far removed from the consequences.
TB meds wreak havoc on your diet
Annie Boyd, today’s Guest-clacker, is a freelance photographer (and part-time blogger) in Fairfax, Virginia who has spent the last six months devoid of all things fast and most things boxed/canned. She is free to eat whatever she wants to now. And she will!
Six months ago, I took a TB skin test. Six months ago, it came back positive. Now, I’ve lived in five different countries, and visited god knows how many others. It took a meeting at work for me finally come in contact with a TB germ-filled sack of ass. Six months ago, my doctor handed me a few pieces of paper which detailed the foods I could no longer eat due to their tyramine and histamine content. No alcohol, because these meds destroy your liver. I also couldn’t eat anything pickled or smoked. No chocolate or caffeine, either. And, as I would soon come to learn, I could eat nothing with soy.
Who wants to take a shot? – Maki Clack
Scott Shulman’s back Guest-clacking for us again, after sharing his thoughts about just how super Ina Garten is in his last post….
I was sitting at my go-to sushi place the other night and noticed a man and woman having what can only be described as an awkward first date. The guy (Guy) had rigid lines in his hair creating the tell-tale ‘fresh-haircut-box’ in the back of his head which showed off the noticeable white skin that used to be covered by his unkempt hair. The girl (Gal) wasn’t much better. You could tell she either spent a lot of time shopping for her outfit, or a lot of time making the outfit, because everything matched perfectly.
Honestly, it was probably one of the sweetest moments I’ve witnessed in recent memory. Guy’s trying to schmooze up Gal with the menu, even though he unknowingly has remnants of shaving cream on the side of his neck. Gal struggles with the chop sticks, inadvertently exploding soy sauce and wasabi across the table. All the while everything is sweetly being anesthetized with the combination of Asahi and sake, as it should be. It was all so cute and innocent … until they started bringing out the food.
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