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The Exchange of Food

There is something about sharing food. I mean, that’s sort of the point when you love food—you want to share the experience.

It hit me today, when my mom emailed me that she’d made a new recipe for Taco Soup and wanted to bring over a container for us. My mom and I experiment on each other, you see. Maybe it comes from those days when I tested her every nerve and somehow, somehow managed not to totally break her. Now we can try out new recipes and ideas on each other without feeling any shame or concern if it doesn’t turn out perfectly. We are, you see, very forgiving of error.

So, I invite her and Dad over when I’m cooking, look around, and think, “This is too much food for two.”

She invited us over when she’s cooking and thinks it’s something we might enjoy.

And it’s not just for sit down dinner, as demonstrated by the Taco Soup.

No, I gave them a smoked brisket that I had discoveredduring a food tasting and just wanted to share the flavor.

Occasionally I’ll share a loaf of sourdough bread, or a bag full of leftover ham, and Mom does the same.

There is something tangible in the exchange of food items that says, “I love you, care about you, want to nurture you.”

So, tonight I’ll collect my Taco Soup and put it in the refrigerator for the weekend, when I’ll be warmed not only by the soup, but also by the knowledge that someone cared enough to share.

There’s no better exchange.

A business associate recently returned from Italy, where, as he describes it, he “developed an incredible taste for boar.”

He was talking about wild pig, the precursor of our domesticated pig . . . think bacon. So, given the amazing attention paid tobacon during the past year, perhaps its not surprising to think that boar may someday lead the pack. So to speak.

I always think of boar in conjunction with New Year’s. That may seem surprising, but it’s because I spent some of my growing up years in Kansas City, home of the Wild Boar Fountain placed on the Country Club Plaza by the J.C. Nichols Company. It’s a replica of a fountain found in the Straw Market of Florence, so perhaps the Italian tie is a natural.

My high school friends and I loved going by that fountain, and we never failed to stop to rub the nose of the boar and donate a few coins for good luck.

In more recent years, my donations increased, especially when I noticed that the proceeds go to Children's Mercy Hospital. My wishes increased, too. As a child, I wished primarily for myself. As an adult, I have wishes for my own children. For my business and co-workers. For my friends and extended family.

I have heavier needs than those of a child; and, while we all know wishing won’t solve our problems, it does tend to focus our desires.

Last time I extended my hand to the boar’s nose, all kinds of things ran through my mind. But by the time I dropped my coins, I knew what was most important to me.

So, I, too, have a taste for boar.

A taste for boar means I am willing to open myself up to new horizons, new thinking, new plans of action. A taste for boar means I know what is important, and I spend my energies and talents on those people and thosethings. A taste for boar means I want to crystalize my wishes into something I can actually do something about.

In 2012, I plan to rub that nose every chance I get.

Interesting how many Christmas traditions revolve around food, isn’t it?

I was going through my pantry today, making sure I hadn’t forgotten some special ingredient that had been tucked away for the holidays. And, sure enough, the memories poured out.

I found the Cheese Honey from Savannah Bee Company that I’d been saving for a fruit and cheese plate on Christmas Eve. The chocolate mint thins to go with a cream cheese dip. And the Hershey’s Chocolate Syrup that goes in my family’s favorite mint bars. Oh, and the bag of hummus chips that are still within their date and just might be good with a crab dip to hold people off while Christmas dinner is in its final preparations.

And then there was the prune lekvar. Now, I have never used prune lekvar in my life. But my mother-in-law used it every year as an ingredient in her heavenly nut roll. For years, we would roll through the door at Christmas time after our road trip, only to be greeted by the best scents in the world. Her meatballs and sausage simmering on the stove. A fresh apple pie sitting on the counter to cool. And nut bread wrapped up and ready to be served with a cup of hot tea.

The year she got sick, I decided I’d better learn her recipes. She walked me through the ingredients, and I went to the store to find the one ingredient I thought might be difficult to find back home—the prune lekvar.

And, when she died, I couldn’t quite bring myself to ever use it. I think originally it was the fear that, if I made it, it might nothold up to the memory—and now I can’t find the recipe. I’m still looking, and will let you know if it turns up.

In the meantime, while I may not be recreating the recipe, I can still hold the memory. It says Christmas to me.

I think I’ll have a cup of tea.

Find Mom’s apple pie recipe, here: http://www.foodchannel.com/recipes/recipe/apple-pie/

You know the old story about coal in their stocking? Well, my family is getting the 2011 equivalent.

It seems we are at the age when they’ve outgrown toys, buy their own clothes as needed, yet have school bills and other “grown up” bills to pay. So, rather than add to their iTunes collection, fun as that may be,this year we’re doing the sensible thing.

Car repairs.

Each kid somehow ended up with a car problem at the same time, just as December and Christmas shopping rolled around. And, while they are capable of handling their own problems, Dad the car guy actually likes to help his kids with this sort of thing.

It’s not romantic. There will be no surprises under the tree. Christmas day will be about relaxing and sharing some food and maybe a movie or two. Our trash bin will not fill with wrapping paper and bows.

But everyone will be able to drive to and fro.

That’s our Christmas. I content myself by thinking that, after all, I’m sure Santa has sleigh maintenance, too. 

If you want a fun cookie to make for your own Christmas transportation memory, try this Santa's Sleigh Ride cookie from our chefs at The Food Channel: http://www.foodchannel.com/recipes/recipe/sleigh-ride-cookies/

It’s not even Thanksgiving, and I’m thinking New Year’s. I know it’s because we just shot our New Year’s edition of SPILL, our new mini-series that brings you tips and ideas for some of life’s food events. We call it SPILL, because we have so many tips and ideas we’re about to overflow!

But the point is, there’s nothing like a fresh start. The holidays, in general, can give us that. We clean up, put away, and sort through things while we decorate. We pull  out our best dishes to entertain, vowing to use them more in the future. We empty things out in preparation for the new.

It’s what we’ve done with our site, foodchannel.com, too. We’ve just quietly launched a new site design. It’s a dramatic difference in both looks and user experience. One of the biggest benefits is that it’s built for search, since we have SO much quality content from our awesome chefs and Test Kitchens. So just plug in a term for whatever you’re craving, and see what happens.

We are also debuting some new WebTV show concepts. We have our holiday series up, giving you some great ideas for food-related gifts, meals, and things to do this season. We’ve put our Gulf series up again because it’s just been nominated for a Taste Award—that’s sort of a big deal, since we made it into the “Best Film & Documentary” category. And we’ll be bringing you more very soon, including installments of SPILL.

Yes, there’s nothing like a fresh start.

But first, turkey day. Check out “trending topics” on the new site and you’ll find everything you need.

Now, excuse me, while I go clean my office.

To see the new Shows:

 http://www.foodchannel.com/articles/category/shows/

In all my years as a food reviewer—starting way back with a newspaper in Pennsylvania, up until now, with The Food Channel—I have definitely developed some favorite foods. Some of them are not necessarily mainline. It’s not that I have such highly defined taste buds, but I do look for things that are unusual and that showcase a chef’s creativity.

That’s perhaps why the Prince Edward Island Mussels that are now on the Autumn Menu at Smith & Wollensky restaurants are so interesting to me. They take mussels—a menu item that many people shy away from—and make them savory with a prosciutto and lemon cream sauce that is, well, amazing.

The mussels are served with enough of the sauce to spoon out and enjoy, almost soup-like. It was the dish I kept going back to on the day we did the big menu tasting. Yes, that means we tasted pretty much everything on the new menu, prepared and laid out in front of us by the executive chef.

It was all terrific, and we’ve detailed it in a story and video found here: http://www.foodchannel.com/articles/article/steak-savor/

The mussels weren’t the only thing I kept going back to. I loved the Beef Tenderloin Trio, a selection of three of the most popular filet presentations: Gorgonzola Crusted with Applewood Smoked Bacon, Fig Demi-Glace and Cajun-seasoned. And the desserts . . . well, let’s just say that I helped make a dent in the chocolate cake: http://www.foodchannel.com/articles/article/so-much-shareable/.

So, if you like to drool over good food, check out our coverage of the new menu and the opening of the Smith & Wollensky Steak House on Boston’s Atlantic Wharf.

With luck, I’ll be there, going back for another helping of mussels.

Photo by David Nehmer

I just wrote an excited email to a co-worker. It said,“Guess what’s going in less than a mile from the office? Caribou!”

Caribou Coffee. Home of the seven-grain oatmeal that stole my heart at the beginning of the fast food oatmeal craze (see review, here). Caribou, of the Bou breakfast, which I often get when in Chicago on business. Caribou, of the coffee that doesn’t taste burnt.

It’s perhaps a sign that our mid-sized city is getting bigger, or at least attracting more variety. All I know is, it will solve my I’m-late-for-work-and-forgot-to-grab-something-to-eat-before-I-left-the-house dilemma.

It also gives me a great place to get away for a refueling. It’s not Hawaii, but it is decent coffee. Maybe not Intelligentsia. Or Peet's. Or Kona. Or any of the speciality coffees I'm pretty into. But, it's close to the office, and that counts for something.

I guess I have coffee purity on the brain, after our tour of a coffee plantation in Hawaii last month. It is the only place that grows coffee beans using a trellis system, similar to what is used for wine grapes. Check out all the stories at the link below. 

And, if you run across a Caribou Coffee, meet me there.

Unless I’m in Hawaii.

http://www.foodchannel.com/articles/article/trellis-coffee-newest-way-grow/

The new Pan Am TV series is destined to return glamour to travel. I just returned from a series of trips and I’m seeing it already. People are dressing up more for their flights, and the airline employees seem a little more put together. After years of “I’m going to be comfortable” and “Don’t make me a sex object,” we seem to be getting OK with being presentable in public again.

Sure, some people may be dressing better because they’ve heard those are the ones who get selected for flight upgrades. And, the true slobs may find acceptance a little harder at airport security—after all, who knows what could be hidden in those baggy jeans.

I say bring it on. I could use a little more glamour in my life.

Especially after back to back trips.

You see, I emptied my suitcase and somehow it all turned into laundry. I turned to my kitchen, and it was full of mail and bills that needed attention. Everywhere I looked there were chores to catch up on and new work that had somehow expanded in my absence.

While I was gone, people handed me gorgeous plates of food. I saw beautiful places and mingled with interesting people. I could look out of a plane window and realize I'd been transported to something new and different. It was, in many ways, glamorous.

So, let the stories continue. Travel really can be glamorous and fun, and we might as well dress the part.

Just don't think about the laundry that awaits.