A Rant About Food Writing
Also, the joy of "Dripping Puddings." An awful vintage ad. A great vintage menu. And a contest for culinary professionals.
“Are environmental issues relevant to food writing?”
More than thirty years ago someone asked me that question.
It’s hard to imagine anyone doing that today: the answer is so obvious. But as I listened to the confirmation hearings this week I began to wonder if things have really changed. Looking for answers I went into the archives to look at my long ago response.
I had forgotten that my answer morphed into a screed about the lack of respect for food writing. That, at least, has changed. As for the rest…..
(Apologies for the quality of this reprint; as you can see by the format, this is a very old printout and time has not been kind. I find it easiest to read on the Substack app or my phone.)
And while we’re ranting… this remarkably eloquent ad ran in Gourmet in 1971.
It’s an ad for the Salton Hotray. My mother swore by hers - she even had one on wheels - which is what made me stop to read it.
Let me just say.... no comment.
I can't resist antique kitchen utensils, which is why I have so many cast iron pots. When I came upon the little beauty above in a thrift shop I was unable to resist it. But it turns out that for the same money I could have purchased a brand new excellent nonstick version. Everyone should own one, because then they will make popovers. And popovers are very much worth making.
Popovers are descended from Yorkshire Pudding; the first recorded recipe appeared in 1737 in The Whole Duty of a Woman where it was known as “ A Dripping Pudding.” Eight years later in The Art of Cookery Made Plain and Easy, Hannah Glasse renamed it Yorkshire Pudding; nobody knows why. (The usually reliable Mrs Beeton, incidentally, got the recipe wrong.) Buckeye Cookery, a mid-American cookbook first published in 1877 contains two recipes for “Pop-Overs” which are, essentially, Yorkshire Pudding without the drippings.
Whatever you call them, popovers are one of the most satisfying recipes you can make. You put a very modest batter into the oven in a very hot well-greased pan where it explodes; when you open the oven door your popovers will have grown to as much as six inches tall.
I've tweaked this recipe from an original in Fanny Farmer. The real secret to a fine popover is making sure your pan is piping hot when you batter it up.
Brown Butter Popovers
3 eggs
1 cup whole milk
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup flour
5 tablespoons butter, browned
a couple more tablespoons butter for the pans
Gently beat the eggs and milk just until they're blended. Whisk in the salt, then the flour, pouring in a thin stream and continually whisking as you pour.
Let the batter rest for a bit. If your batter is too cold when it hits the oven, your popovers will be less impressive.
Preheat the oven to 425 degrees, and set your pan inside.
Meanwhile, melt the butter on low heat, allowing it to cook until a wonderfully nutty aroma rises up. When that happens, immediately remove it from the fire. Add browned butter to the batter. (It may coagulate; that’s fine.)
Remove the hot pan from the oven. Working quickly, drop a bit of butter into each cup and swoosh it around. Add your batter. This recipe will fill a true 6-cup popover pan, or a 12-cup regular muffin pan.
Cook for 30 minutes, or until brown and set. (Less if you used a regular muffin pan.) Try not to open the oven to check doneness more than once; the cool air rushing in will deflate your popovers.
When the economy got tough in 2008, Tom Colicchio decided to do something different with Craft’s private dining space. Every other Tuesday he and his senior chefs created intimate dinners for a small group of guests. The room only seated 32-36 people, and the open kitchen allowed diners to watch the chefs turn out one spectacular dish after another. Those meals were pure pleasure; I want to eat this one all over again.
Best meal I’ve had in a long time was at Heirloom Lodge in West Stockbridge; I couldn’t stop eating these potato gnocchi with braised beef and walnut gremolata. It’s a wonderfully warm country room with a big open kitchen, and they’ve just announced that they’re hosting the first culinary residency of The Kitchen Work Foundation, a nonprofit with a mission to help support independent local food businesses.
One winning chef will be provided with a $10,000 cash prize, local lodging, and a residency at Heirloom Lodge where they will assume leadership for one week in April (including writing their own menus). Applications are due in March. Details are here.
I loved that ad because I sometimes feel that way - we always have to pray before I get my plate to the table because it's TIME TO EAT! I didn't know what a Hotray was (it sounded a little offensive if you pronounce it the way I did) so I looked it up and found this great explanation:
https://www.midcenturymaurer.com/blog/2018/11/10/all-you-can-heat
Thanks for the popover recipe, yum yum!
I completely forgot that we had the hot cart next to the dining table in the early 1970s. Good lord, that ad! Thanks, Ruth, for pulling that memory out.