Thinking of Creamed Corn

Sorry for the 12-day silence. I just returned from spending 10 days in France, three of them in Paris. I will write a few blog posts about those wine and culinary adventures, but first . . .

Creamed corn is one of those side dishes that makes me think of fall. My mother never made creamed corn, but I fell in love with it from the first time I tasted it -- at a friend's house. The New York Times' Melissa Clark has written this article offering a fresh twist on creamed corn. This reminds me of something else to add to my "to do" list for this autumn -- find a good recipe for creamed corn.

A Peach Repertoire

I bought more than a half-dozen peaches at a farmers market last weekend, and I've been enjoying them ever since. I rarely buy peaches at the grocery store any more -- just too risky. I just noticed this web page at the N.Y. Times' food pages that lists a number of recipes featuring peaches.

The recipes range from fried peach pies with bourbon and cinnamon to peach puree vinaigrette. There's even a recipe for peach ice cream, which looks mighty good.

Point-Counterpoint: Scrapple

I enjoyed this N.Y. Times blog article about the "Great Scrapple Correspondence of 1872." The newspaper opened up its archives and found a number of letters that readers wrote either praising or trashing scrapple.

A Hurdle for Locally Raised Meats

The "locavore" movement -- the move to encourage restaurant chefs and home cooks to find local sources for the foods they prepare -- has a big hurdle when it comes to meats.

According to the New York Times, a shortage of slaughterhouses in many areas of the country is making it difficult for those who raise pigs, cattle and other meat to get their products to market. The article quotes a federal statistic showing that the number of slaughterhouses within the U.S. has fallen 33 percent since 1992. The Times writes:

Fewer slaughterhouses to process local meat means less of it in butcher shops, grocery stores and restaurants.

... "There are a lot of people out there who raise great animals for us to use, and they don't have the opportunity to get them to us because the slaughterhouses are going away," said Bill Telepan, chef and owner of Telephan, a high-end restaurant in New York.

Call It "Pomegranate Fatigue"

Or call it something else if you prefer. But I found myself annoyed at the very sight of a recent article in the New York Times about an ingredient called pomegranate molasses.

This substance might taste great, but I have grown so tired of hearing stuffy, navel-gazing androids babble on about "pomegranate this" and "pomegranate that." Pomegranate martinis, pomegranate coulis, and on and on.

These trend-chasers bug me.

The NYC Restaurant Scene

Glitzy and high-priced is out. Relaxed and economically priced is in.

That sums up the direction of the restaurant scene in New York. The Times' Florence Fabricant has more right here.

In this article, she also previews several new restaurants that are opening this fall in NYC.

Eleven Madison Park: Even Better

One of my favorite New York City restaurants is Eleven Madison Park. I have dined there several times, and each experience has been fantastic.

The last time I went there to dine, I was almost slightly nervous. Why? To borrow a title from Frost, "nothing gold can stay." In other words, I've learned from experience that most of my favorite bars, restaurants, hotels, etc., eventually lose the qualities that made me initially love them. It seems inevitable.

So I was sort of wondering last year if Eleven Madison Park would impress me less than it had before. It didn't disappoint me one point.

I am left feeling hopeful about future trips to Eleven Madison Park after reading this review by Frank Bruni in today's N.Y. Times -- the newspaper has raised Eleven Madison Park's rating to 4 stars. Clearly, the restaurant is firing on all cylinders.

Not only is the food wonderful, the bar is ably tended, and the ambience is a tour de force.

Times' Critic: I Was a "Toddler Bulimic"

In this article, New York Times restaurant critic Frank Bruni has a confession to make:

. . . I was a baby bulimic. Maybe not baby -- maybe toddler bulimic is more like it, though I didn't so much toddle as woddle, given the roundness of my expanding form.

I was a plump infant and was on my way to becoming an even plumber child, a ravenous machine determined to devour anything in its sights.

It's an interesting article. Bruni is very forthcoming about it.