#and slabs of meat a la steaks were way too much

[fictionz]

My one new resolution for the year is to eat vegetarian because I already consume protein as small cubes that look nothing like the living muscles they once were so a plant-based protein can accomplish the exact same thing.

[easyfoodnetwork]

From the Strategist: 21 Best Grilling Gifts for Every Type of Grilling Enthusiast

Photo: ClassicStock/Getty Images

All the grills and grilling accessories a grill master could want, from the Strategist

At its most basic, grilling is cooking on an open flame, like what our prehistoric ancestors used to do, but if you’re not the kind of person who takes pleasure in lighting charcoal on fire and then cooking big slabs of meat on it, you might be struggling to find the best grilling gifts for someone who does. (Though even self-described grill enthusiasts sometimes need help finding an actually useful but still unique grilling gift.) So to make it easy, we rounded up 21 of the best grills and grilling accessories that would be excellent gifts for the person in your life who likes to fire it up.

For the griller who struggles with lighting charcoal

BBQ Dragon Cordless Grill Fan in Silver

Jean-Paul Bourgeois of New York City’s Blue Smoke calls the BBQ Dragon, “a fire starter’s best friend. This easy-to-use little gadget will clip onto any grill or smoker and assist you in getting those coals burning fast and evenly.”

For the griller who mostly cooks with charcoal

Panacea 15343 Ash Bucket With Shovel, Black

If anyone plays a little fast and loose with the disposal of coals, or wants a safer way to do it, this steel ash bucket will help prevent accidents. As Hugh Magnum, pitmaster at Mighty Quinn’s Barbecue, explains, “It sometimes takes as long as two days for coals to be completely cold, so you don’t put any coals for at least two days into a trash bag, or else that trash bag will go up in flames.”

For the griller who’s terrified of burns

Artisan Griller Insulated Cooking Gloves

Writer Caitlin M. O’Shaughnessy was introduced to these pit gloves by her mother, who used them to take a full turkey out of the oven. “The cotton-lined gloves are coated with neoprene rubber and designed for true-blue barbecuers who have to handle hot meat on the smoker — that means they’re also waterproof, stainproof, and (most importantly) greaseproof.” They also come recommended by Patrick Martin of Martin’s Bar-B-Que Joint in Nashville, who actually prefers these heavy-duty gloves to tongs, especially when working with big cuts of meat, like whole hogs.

For the griller who’s looking to streamline

Stingray 7 in 1 BBQ Tool

Swap out the tool kit for this 7-in-1 grilling tool, recommended by self-described “pretty competent outdoor griller” Steven John, who calls this ���the Swiss Army knife of grilling equipment, combining all three tools and even sporting a bottle opener built into its handle.”

For the griller who loves steak

Sloan Personalized Miniature Steak Branding Iron

For Valentine’s Day, writer Leah Bhabha gifted her carnivorous boyfriend a personalized branding iron, purchased on Amazon, and it was an instant hit. “We’ve now emblazoned his initials on everything from ribs to rib eyes, and even busted out the brander for cast-iron cooked burgers (the patty’s initials were covered by the bun, but he liked it so much he branded them anyway).”

For the griller who prefers chicken

Two-in-One Vertical Chicken Roasting Pan

Nick Pihakis of Jim ’N Nicks Bar-B-Q in Birmingham, Alabama, calls this chicken-roasting contraption “one of the best ways to cook a chicken. Not only is upright roasting the optimal position to roast a chicken (fat drips away, heat surrounds the chicken 360 degrees, skin crisps up better), this cooking method allows the steam and vapors to flavor the chicken from the inside cavity out, helping it to stay moist.”

For the griller who’s also a hibachi enthusiast

Elite Platinum EMG-980B Large Indoor Electric Round Nonstick Grilling Surface

If dinner has become a bit of a slog recently, consider setting up a hibachi or Korean barbecue night and using this highly rated indoor grill to do it. Reviewers on Amazon say, true to advertising, it’s truly non-stick (so feel free to go all in on your marinades) and is just as effective at grilling vegetables as a grilling a sturdy ribeye.

For the griller who’s not sure what to do with vegetables

Sur La Table Stainless Steel Grill Basket

Steven John recommends a grill basket, “that can be placed atop any sort of grill (charcoal, gas, or even wood fire) and filled with loose veggies, shrimp, fries, and so on.” It keeps these more delicate ingredients from sticking to the grill’s grates, and, as John notes, “the grate’s cleaner, too.”

For the griller who over-checks their meat

Thermapen Mk4 Thermometer

A meat thermometer is a must-have accessory for a barbecue enthusiast to quickly and easily ensure that meat is fully cooked but not overdone. And for my money, there’s no meat thermometer better than the Thermapen. As I wrote in my review of this gadget, “What makes the Thermapen stand out from other digital kitchen thermometers is its speed and accuracy. According to the manufacturer’s website, this food thermometer can tell the real-time temperature of whatever you’re trying to measure within 0.7 degrees Fahrenheit in under three seconds. That speed makes a noticeable difference when you’re balancing a roasting pan on a hot oven door as you try to take the temperature of whatever’s inside without burning yourself or letting out too much heat,” or dealing with a hot barbecue grill. (And I’m in good company. The Thermapen also comes recommended by Amy and Mike Mills of 17th St. BBQ in Murphysboro, Illinois.)

For the griller who’s getting into marinades

Boiled Cider Syrup

In his roundup of the best condiments you can buy on Amazon, writer Hugh Merwin recommends this boiled cider, which is “kind of pure apple essence,” he explains. However, that sweetness makes it an excellent addition to a barbecue tool kit. “Grillmasters use it at the base of marinades, where it tenderizes meat and its mildly tart and subtle flavor blends in with wood smoke.”

For the griller with a small patio

Fire Sense Large Yakatori Charcoal Grill

Recommended by Leslie Roark Scott of Ubon’s Barbeque in Yazoo City, Mississippi, this large yakitori grill is ideal for those in a “tight space. It’s the perfect size for a couple of steaks, and holds heat like a champ.”

For the griller with no patio

Weber 10020 Smokey Joe

If you’re looking to gift a truly portable grill, for someone who dreams of grilling in Prospect Park, the Weber Smokey Joe is a classic choice. It’s a no-frills option, but it’s got the same durability as the larger kettle-style Weber grill.

For the indoor grill enthusiast who hates smoke

Philips Indoor Smokeless Grill

We discovered this indoor smokeless grill while watching Queer Eye on Netflix, and it’s a solid option for someone who wants to grill but is constrained by the realities of living in an apartment. It uses infrared light to heat the grill and help prevent smoking from dripping fat.

For the indoor grill enthusiast who doesn’t want another gadget

Lodge Pro-Grid Cast-Iron Grill and Griddle Combo. Reversible 20 x 10.44” Grill/Griddle Pan With Easy-Grip Handles

Though it’s more likely to smoke up your kitchen, this cast-iron grill plate from Lodge is “the indoor grill that’s closest in spirit to firing up the charcoal.” (Plus, because it’s essentially a flat piece of cast-iron, it’s much easier to store than a new appliance.)

For the griller who likes that smoky taste

Z Grills ZPG-7002E

As Steven John explains, “a pellet grill is a barbecue grill that uses an automatically fed supply of wood pellets to maintain a preestablished temperature and infuse the cooking foods with smoke aroma and flavor. Your fuel source is also your smoke source.” That means your meat takes longer to cook, but it’s also got more smoky flavor, and in his testing of pellet grills, John liked this one from Z Grills, in part because “you can load up enough wood pellets for hours of smoking with minimal refills required.”

For the griller who wants to go full pitmaster

Masterbuilt MES 130B Digital Electric Smoker

On a long hunt for the “best, not-too-massive city grill,” Lauren Levy discovered that the best barbecue grill is actually this digital smoker from Masterbuilt. That’s according to Myron Mixon, the winningest man in barbecue, who explains, “It’s a digital smoker, so you can actually punch in the temperature you want and it takes you right there from 100 degrees to 275 degrees in just a few minutes.” He continues, “The truth is, everything that someone would want to barbecue you can cook with the Masterbuilt smoker, and it’s much more delicious.”

For the griller who likes to cook low and slow

Akorn Jr. Kamado Kooker

The first rule of Grilling 101: Leave the meat be. But when you’re constantly worried about your provisions burning that can be difficult to do. That’s why the grilling enthusiasts of Amazon love the Akorn Jr., a ceramic, kamado-style grill that does an excellent job of maintaining low temperatures. Plus, it’s about a tenth of the price of the popular, kamado-style Big Green Egg grill.

For the griller who tries to keep their grill spotless

Drillbrush BBQ Accessories

I’ve written about the Drillbrush as the best tool to keep my shower clean, but the company makes different brush attachments with different stiffnesses for different purposes, like this barbecue accessories set, which can be used to detail-clean even the most grease-stained grill.

For the griller who likes to grill and chill

YETI Roadie 20 Cooler

“When you’re smoking whole hogs, you can’t go for a beer run, so you need a good cooler that’s going to keep your beer cold for the night,” wisely notes Patrick Martin of Martin’s Bar-B-Que Joint. That’s why he recommends a Yeti cooler to keep by the grill. “I guarantee when you reach for a beer, it’s gonna be good and cold — just like it should be.”

For the griller who likes to carve meat

John Boos Block BBQBD Reversible Maple Wood Edge Grain BBQ Cutting Board With Juice Groove

This sturdy Boos block has a juice groove to catch any liquid that might come out when carving a big hunk of barbecue. (And this gift certainly doesn’t have to be retired once grilling season is over. It’ll also come in handy at Thanksgiving, when it’s time to carve the turkey.)

For the griller who likes eating barbecue more than cooking

Messermeister Avanta 4-Piece Fine Edge Steak Knife Set

Once they cook the meat, they’ll need something to help you eat it, and that’s where these Messermeister steak knives come in. “There’s a curious delight in using these very, very sharp steak knives to bisect a morsel of beef (or pork, or chicken, or whatever flesh you have lying around),” writes Katie Arnold-Ratliff in her ode to these. “The blade slices through the steak with tactile precision — a kind of buttery, slippery ease that makes me say every time my boyfriend and I use these knives, which is a lot, ‘Man I love these knives.’”

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/2BbdFk9 https://ift.tt/2XwN1ti

Photo: ClassicStock/Getty Images

All the grills and grilling accessories a grill master could want, from the Strategist

At its most basic, grilling is cooking on an open flame, like what our prehistoric ancestors used to do, but if you’re not the kind of person who takes pleasure in lighting charcoal on fire and then cooking big slabs of meat on it, you might be struggling to find the best grilling gifts for someone who does. (Though even self-described grill enthusiasts sometimes need help finding an actually useful but still unique grilling gift.) So to make it easy, we rounded up 21 of the best grills and grilling accessories that would be excellent gifts for the person in your life who likes to fire it up.

For the griller who struggles with lighting charcoal

BBQ Dragon Cordless Grill Fan in Silver

Jean-Paul Bourgeois of New York City’s Blue Smoke calls the BBQ Dragon, “a fire starter’s best friend. This easy-to-use little gadget will clip onto any grill or smoker and assist you in getting those coals burning fast and evenly.”

For the griller who mostly cooks with charcoal

Panacea 15343 Ash Bucket With Shovel, Black

If anyone plays a little fast and loose with the disposal of coals, or wants a safer way to do it, this steel ash bucket will help prevent accidents. As Hugh Magnum, pitmaster at Mighty Quinn’s Barbecue, explains, “It sometimes takes as long as two days for coals to be completely cold, so you don’t put any coals for at least two days into a trash bag, or else that trash bag will go up in flames.”

For the griller who’s terrified of burns

Artisan Griller Insulated Cooking Gloves

Writer Caitlin M. O’Shaughnessy was introduced to these pit gloves by her mother, who used them to take a full turkey out of the oven. “The cotton-lined gloves are coated with neoprene rubber and designed for true-blue barbecuers who have to handle hot meat on the smoker — that means they’re also waterproof, stainproof, and (most importantly) greaseproof.” They also come recommended by Patrick Martin of Martin’s Bar-B-Que Joint in Nashville, who actually prefers these heavy-duty gloves to tongs, especially when working with big cuts of meat, like whole hogs.

For the griller who’s looking to streamline

Stingray 7 in 1 BBQ Tool

Swap out the tool kit for this 7-in-1 grilling tool, recommended by self-described “pretty competent outdoor griller” Steven John, who calls this “the Swiss Army knife of grilling equipment, combining all three tools and even sporting a bottle opener built into its handle.”

For the griller who loves steak

Sloan Personalized Miniature Steak Branding Iron

For Valentine’s Day, writer Leah Bhabha gifted her carnivorous boyfriend a personalized branding iron, purchased on Amazon, and it was an instant hit. “We’ve now emblazoned his initials on everything from ribs to rib eyes, and even busted out the brander for cast-iron cooked burgers (the patty’s initials were covered by the bun, but he liked it so much he branded them anyway).”

For the griller who prefers chicken

Two-in-One Vertical Chicken Roasting Pan

Nick Pihakis of Jim ’N Nicks Bar-B-Q in Birmingham, Alabama, calls this chicken-roasting contraption “one of the best ways to cook a chicken. Not only is upright roasting the optimal position to roast a chicken (fat drips away, heat surrounds the chicken 360 degrees, skin crisps up better), this cooking method allows the steam and vapors to flavor the chicken from the inside cavity out, helping it to stay moist.”

For the griller who’s also a hibachi enthusiast

Elite Platinum EMG-980B Large Indoor Electric Round Nonstick Grilling Surface

If dinner has become a bit of a slog recently, consider setting up a hibachi or Korean barbecue night and using this highly rated indoor grill to do it. Reviewers on Amazon say, true to advertising, it’s truly non-stick (so feel free to go all in on your marinades) and is just as effective at grilling vegetables as a grilling a sturdy ribeye.

For the griller who’s not sure what to do with vegetables

Sur La Table Stainless Steel Grill Basket

Steven John recommends a grill basket, “that can be placed atop any sort of grill (charcoal, gas, or even wood fire) and filled with loose veggies, shrimp, fries, and so on.” It keeps these more delicate ingredients from sticking to the grill’s grates, and, as John notes, “the grate’s cleaner, too.”

For the griller who over-checks their meat

Thermapen Mk4 Thermometer

A meat thermometer is a must-have accessory for a barbecue enthusiast to quickly and easily ensure that meat is fully cooked but not overdone. And for my money, there’s no meat thermometer better than the Thermapen. As I wrote in my review of this gadget, “What makes the Thermapen stand out from other digital kitchen thermometers is its speed and accuracy. According to the manufacturer’s website, this food thermometer can tell the real-time temperature of whatever you’re trying to measure within 0.7 degrees Fahrenheit in under three seconds. That speed makes a noticeable difference when you’re balancing a roasting pan on a hot oven door as you try to take the temperature of whatever’s inside without burning yourself or letting out too much heat,” or dealing with a hot barbecue grill. (And I’m in good company. The Thermapen also comes recommended by Amy and Mike Mills of 17th St. BBQ in Murphysboro, Illinois.)

For the griller who’s getting into marinades

Boiled Cider Syrup

In his roundup of the best condiments you can buy on Amazon, writer Hugh Merwin recommends this boiled cider, which is “kind of pure apple essence,” he explains. However, that sweetness makes it an excellent addition to a barbecue tool kit. “Grillmasters use it at the base of marinades, where it tenderizes meat and its mildly tart and subtle flavor blends in with wood smoke.”

For the griller with a small patio

Fire Sense Large Yakatori Charcoal Grill

Recommended by Leslie Roark Scott of Ubon’s Barbeque in Yazoo City, Mississippi, this large yakitori grill is ideal for those in a “tight space. It’s the perfect size for a couple of steaks, and holds heat like a champ.”

For the griller with no patio

Weber 10020 Smokey Joe

If you’re looking to gift a truly portable grill, for someone who dreams of grilling in Prospect Park, the Weber Smokey Joe is a classic choice. It’s a no-frills option, but it’s got the same durability as the larger kettle-style Weber grill.

For the indoor grill enthusiast who hates smoke

Philips Indoor Smokeless Grill

We discovered this indoor smokeless grill while watching Queer Eye on Netflix, and it’s a solid option for someone who wants to grill but is constrained by the realities of living in an apartment. It uses infrared light to heat the grill and help prevent smoking from dripping fat.

For the indoor grill enthusiast who doesn’t want another gadget

Lodge Pro-Grid Cast-Iron Grill and Griddle Combo. Reversible 20 x 10.44” Grill/Griddle Pan With Easy-Grip Handles

Though it’s more likely to smoke up your kitchen, this cast-iron grill plate from Lodge is “the indoor grill that’s closest in spirit to firing up the charcoal.” (Plus, because it’s essentially a flat piece of cast-iron, it’s much easier to store than a new appliance.)

For the griller who likes that smoky taste

Z Grills ZPG-7002E

As Steven John explains, “a pellet grill is a barbecue grill that uses an automatically fed supply of wood pellets to maintain a preestablished temperature and infuse the cooking foods with smoke aroma and flavor. Your fuel source is also your smoke source.” That means your meat takes longer to cook, but it’s also got more smoky flavor, and in his testing of pellet grills, John liked this one from Z Grills, in part because “you can load up enough wood pellets for hours of smoking with minimal refills required.”

For the griller who wants to go full pitmaster

Masterbuilt MES 130B Digital Electric Smoker

On a long hunt for the “best, not-too-massive city grill,” Lauren Levy discovered that the best barbecue grill is actually this digital smoker from Masterbuilt. That’s according to Myron Mixon, the winningest man in barbecue, who explains, “It’s a digital smoker, so you can actually punch in the temperature you want and it takes you right there from 100 degrees to 275 degrees in just a few minutes.” He continues, “The truth is, everything that someone would want to barbecue you can cook with the Masterbuilt smoker, and it’s much more delicious.”

For the griller who likes to cook low and slow

Akorn Jr. Kamado Kooker

The first rule of Grilling 101: Leave the meat be. But when you’re constantly worried about your provisions burning that can be difficult to do. That’s why the grilling enthusiasts of Amazon love the Akorn Jr., a ceramic, kamado-style grill that does an excellent job of maintaining low temperatures. Plus, it’s about a tenth of the price of the popular, kamado-style Big Green Egg grill.

For the griller who tries to keep their grill spotless

Drillbrush BBQ Accessories

I’ve written about the Drillbrush as the best tool to keep my shower clean, but the company makes different brush attachments with different stiffnesses for different purposes, like this barbecue accessories set, which can be used to detail-clean even the most grease-stained grill.

For the griller who likes to grill and chill

YETI Roadie 20 Cooler

“When you’re smoking whole hogs, you can’t go for a beer run, so you need a good cooler that’s going to keep your beer cold for the night,” wisely notes Patrick Martin of Martin’s Bar-B-Que Joint. That’s why he recommends a Yeti cooler to keep by the grill. “I guarantee when you reach for a beer, it’s gonna be good and cold — just like it should be.”

For the griller who likes to carve meat

John Boos Block BBQBD Reversible Maple Wood Edge Grain BBQ Cutting Board With Juice Groove

This sturdy Boos block has a juice groove to catch any liquid that might come out when carving a big hunk of barbecue. (And this gift certainly doesn’t have to be retired once grilling season is over. It’ll also come in handy at Thanksgiving, when it’s time to carve the turkey.)

For the griller who likes eating barbecue more than cooking

Messermeister Avanta 4-Piece Fine Edge Steak Knife Set

Once they cook the meat, they’ll need something to help you eat it, and that’s where these Messermeister steak knives come in. “There’s a curious delight in using these very, very sharp steak knives to bisect a morsel of beef (or pork, or chicken, or whatever flesh you have lying around),” writes Katie Arnold-Ratliff in her ode to these. “The blade slices through the steak with tactile precision — a kind of buttery, slippery ease that makes me say every time my boyfriend and I use these knives, which is a lot, ‘Man I love these knives.’”

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/2BbdFk9 via Blogger https://ift.tt/2Xyq7C0

[niscuit-gravy]

Ulquihime V-Day Exchange Fic!

AN: Thank you for being so understanding about my time crunch on this! You are such a joy and I truly admire all of your lovely work!

I hope this is ok, @tiroma-art !

Made for the Ulquihime Valentine's Day exchange!

_______________________________

The grey sky stretched far beyond the scope that any eye could see. It was neutral. Cold. There wasn't a single expression radiating from the heart of whatever "earth" this was - there were no bolts of raging, angry thunder. No rays of joyful sunshine dancing in the breeze. No tears of raindrops fell from the heavens, and by looking at the bleak expanse, one may concur that the idea of "heavens" were but a myth. All that hung in this dismal sky was the ever-crescent moon, too apathetic to even fully eclipse.

Two bodies sat in the cool desert sand below. There wasn't much else do to here, even if they'd willed themselves to. No sun would bathe their pallid skin. No plants would spring forth with life. Everything but two beating hearts was essentially dead, save for the chill that fell with the hour.

The young woman didn't mind it all that much.

She fluttered her violet eyes open, surveying the ground and finding it to be the exact same as she'd last seen it just before she'd surrendered her boredom into slumber. The man beside her stirred, ghosting his white hand over her waist.

"Is something wrong, my dear?"

She sat up groggily, brushing her strawberry locks away from her face. She glanced into the distance as if to analyze something on the endless horizon. Ulquiorra followed her gaze, but found absolutely nothing.

It was then did the most vitality that Hueco Mundo had ever seen dance across her face in the shape of a grin from ear to ear.

"Oh not at all," she began, cupping the man's hand and bringing it to her lips and bestowing it with a kiss. "Today's Valentine's Day."

The man looked perplexed, his brow arching and his emerald eyes narrowing as if to analyze. "Valentine's Day?"

Right.

It was times such as these when the young woman would be reminded of just how distant her lover was from everything she'd known. It became painfully evident that there was a chasm between them, the feeble bridge mending it being only their strong love for one another. Even so, that seemed to exist on a plane that was far above things like candy, holidays and worldly pleasures. Their love was primal, conceptual and fiercely driven - and while the young woman was never unsatisfied with how the love itself came to consummation, it was never quite the same as she'd been told that "love" should be.The closest encounter she'd ever had with him to a stroll in the park was foraging for hollow meat in the desert, and the only present she'd ever received was a luminescent grey shell plucked from the sand, and if one squinted enough, it would have been "beautiful". Nonetheless, such a precious gemstone lived tucked away in her bedside table in the world of the living - beautiful or not, it had listened to her nightly prayers to be once more in the arms of its giver.

"... What is 'Valentine's Day'? Some kind of human tradition, I assume?"

"Yeah, we always hand out chocolate and cards, and you know, celebrate romance."

The man looked down at his feet. For a moment, it almost seemed as if he were sad that he was unable to familiarize. "You all are so interesting."

"Actually," she said, reaching into the large duffel bag by her side. "I brought us a souvenir to celebrate."

The man leaned his gaze into her. A string in his heart seemed to have pulled - it was times like these he wished that he didn't exist in such a manner of just that: existence. This woman brought him a form of life that he so vitally needed - and only she could give it.

She pulled forth a heart-shaped box, the pink foil around it so potent that even the sand surrounding it would instantly come alive to reflect its fluorescent color. She opened the box, revealing fourteen confectionary chocolates.

"Are those...?"

"Chocolates."

"Cho-co-lates."

Ulquiorra sounded out the word as if he were a hapless child learning a new word.

"Oh, right," Orihime said wistfully. "You've probably never even had them before..."

Ulquiorra sighed. "I didn't have a lot of time to sample foods from the world of the living when I visited."

"Then perhaps that's a good reason to visit me there, isn't it?"

His mind turned a gear. "Perhaps."

Orihime exposed the underside of the lid, showing her raven-haired lover the various circles etched inside of it. "This is a map that shows are what all these are. You can't really see the filling inside so you never know what you're going to wind up with unless you have the map. I know you don't know much about food and all, but I really recommend this one!"

She pointed at an elongated circle near the center, patiently letting her lover cognitively trace its origin to what looked like a Roman Nougat. "A Roman Nougat?"

"That's right," she said, feeling her heart swell at just hearing familiar words like 'Roman Nougat' escape his lips. "It's dark chocolate with this really smooth cherry flavoring in it."

As if to give him the green light, she popped a molasses caramel into her own mouth.

"This one's a different one than the Roman Nougat, but it's just as good!"

Ulquiorra watched the rose tint blossom onto her cheeks. Her lips, albeit stuffed with chocolate curled into a smile. How did humans derive so much pleasure from something simple as eating?

He couldn't comprehend it. And until Orihime Inoue, he never had the desire to But if anything had the capacity to elicit such emotion from the woman - the grin on her face, the hum of bliss from her mouth - he felt immediately compelled to immerse himself in it until he knew every inch of such a thing.

Cautiously, Ulquiorra plucked the candy from the box. He gave another glance up to the woman, whose smile reaffirmed him. What didn't he have to trust, anyway?

He popped the candy into his mouth, soon fluttering his eyes shut as a quiet moan escaped his lips. The flavor was both intense and subtle at the same time. The overwhelming sweetness and the bitter, dark coating harmonized together in a way that he had never experienced.

"You're certainly right,... This is far better than even the best cuisine at Las Noches."

Orihime giggled. "Well, that's partially because Las Noches food is nasty!"

Ulquiorra nodded, grateful to not be seating himself to another dried out, hollow-fried slab of steak. "I can't exactly argue with that."

"Here, have another." she prodded, pushing the box toward him.

"I may not know much about chocolate, but I do know about basic chemistry. There's a lot of sugar in this - don't you humans get ill from indulging in sugars too much?"

Orihime shrugged. "It's Valentine's Day. I think my stomach can make a bit of an exception for the occasion."

And Ulquiorra smiled, taking what was labeled a "white chocolate truffle", whatever that was.

An "occasion" it certainly was. They sat for a moment in silence, and about three chocolates in, all of Hueco Mundo already seemed to be brighter, set aglow by some invisible sun. Ulquiorra had never seen anything like it, save for the rarest of instances that the woman was present. The moon no longer hung in its overwhelming dominance, but became docile. It serenaded the trees as they swayed together in the breeze, as if they were inspired by the lovers in the sand to craft their own waltz. Ulquiorra placed an arm around Orihime's shoulders, grateful that his world had sprung forth with the sweetest taste of life he'd ever seen.

"I wish that your visits were much more frequent," he began with a heavy sigh. "I wish you never had to return back to the world of the living."

Orihime opened her mouth, but paused, heaving a sigh instead. It wasn't that she was opposed to being here. Much unlike a previous (and very uncanny) circumstance, Orihime herself had opted to return here. No, she had begged. Ichigo thought she was insane. Uryu was very concerned. Tatsuki nearly forbade her. But once she had found out from Urahara that Ulquiorra had been spared, she just about dropped to her knees and groveled for him to allow her to see him, if even only once more. The shopkeeper's mercies were piquied - Orihime bore witness to part of his heart she had never been aware of, and then the stubborn woman had earned herself a voluntary week in Hueco Mundo.

"I wish you could come back with me, Ulquiorra," she said quietly, staring out into the dismal abyss of a desert. "There are so many things there, like chocolate. Like sunshine. Like walks in the park. Like roses, animals, flowers - everything you'd never dream to be possible in a place like this."

Ulquiorra remained silent. Orihime drew a deep breath.

"I don't mean this to be manipulative or anything, so please don't think that about what I'm about to ask, alright?"

"Of course." Realizing his half-truth, he peered at his shoes. What was one to think of a question when given a pretense like that?

"If you came back with me to the world of the living, and you stayed, we... we could be together forever. We could eat chocolate every Valentine's Day. Or Christmas. Or any other day that we feel the need to celebrate."

She drew another breath. Her tone had escalated and her heart raced - it wasn't until she'd voiced these things that she realized just how vitally she would need them. She didn't care how large of a commitment was brewing from her words. It was a risk she'd be well willing to take. She'd already risked everything to come here.

"You could live with me. I could show you Karakura. I could show you what lovers do in my world...."

The man shattered like ice on a pavement, cracking as if he'd been hit by the first piercing rays of the springtime sun.

"Ulquiorra," she said, blockading his hand from reaching for yet another chocolate. His eyes met hers and there they sat, together in an expectant silence. "If you come back with me, I will spend the rest of my life with you, and I will show you every wonder my world has to bless you with."

She watched his green eyes dart to and fro, balancing their gaze between the two of hers. She trembled as she waited for his cognition to read, prayed that he would sense the overwhelming necessity radiating through her intentions. His gaze wasn't blank - neither was his mind. His heart was racing. His hands were moistened. His mouth went dry.

What was he experiencing?

He peered around the bleakness. The dull sky stretched as far as could be fathomed, and the white sand crumbled beneath him. A glimmer of light was before his eyes - and it wasn't from the moon. Every cell in his body demanded to be bathed in such a light.

He took the hand that offered, cupped it and drew it to his lips.

"If it means forever with you, my dear woman, then I will follow you wherever you will lead me."

[trippingonroads-blog1]

The Things You Learn While Traveling Abroad

We didn’t make it to La Tlayudería. Hell, we almost didn’t make it anywhere after striking out nearly everywhere. In fact, our restaurant debacle last night is an excellent jumping off point for the topic “Lessons Learned While Traveling Abroad.” First lesson:

Have a plan.

Lindsay and I had a plan but we didn’t account for the restaurant not being there. (When we came home and looked it up, we discovered Google had led us to the wrong address so maybe it does exist but we may never know.) We walked about 1.5km and up and down the same street twice before realizing the place was either closed or just plum not there. So we went to the backup, a place called Mercado Roma.

That, however, turned out to be a market, which you probably could have surmised by the name but when Yelping it earlier in the day, it looked like a restaurant. Someone was playing loud, bad Alannis Morrisette covers and there was only bar seating at the seven or eight different vendors inside. Not exactly the kind of authentic meal we were looking for. So we Googled a taco place, found Tacos Orinoco, and went there.

Tacos Orinoco was an absolute mob scene, with a walk-up bar and some dining room seating but, again, not what we were looking for. So we decided to walk back in the direction of the Airbnb and stop anywhere that looked good.

Turns out, in a Mexican city that is absolutely packed with restaurants, it was damn hard to find a Mexican place open for dinner. Plenty of American, Italian, Mediterranean, and even a Thai food place, but all of the street vendors had closed up shop and so had seemingly every other Mexican restaurant except one or two takeout chicken places. There is no end to the panaderias and cafes open past 8 o’clock serving breakfast food which made it especially irritating that we couldn’t find dinner.

By 8:30, we had been walking for two hours and were exhausted, though shockingly not super cranky just yet. We covered a lot of ground and saw a lot so that was nice. We were literally back at the Airbnb when we decided to try one more place we had seen earlier in the day and if that didn’t work, we’d grab a torta from the one street vendor we’d seen and head back to the Airbnb.

Resi was open and looked decent enough so we got a table. Resi was also, however, pretty mediocre. The band was good, playing Spanish arrangements of American covers like “On the Boardwalk” and “Put Your Head On My Shoulder” but it was a real small space and they were loud. Lindsay got a headache and we couldn’t hear each other’s voices from across the table. We each got a well-earned margarita that was delicious, although Lindsay took a few sips of hers before opting to order a red wine instead. The queso fundido con chorizo was solid (not literally lolz) but Lindsay’s steak was a thin slab of just okay, and my huauzontles (had no idea what these were but they sounded interesting) were really dry, which may be exactly how they’re supposed to be. I probably shouldn’t have been so adventurous. Live and learn.

Don’t bring a hot drink in an Uber in a foreign land.

Lindsay and I had been getting around pretty okay and I nailed our cafe order this morning until the lady asked if Lindsay wanted “aderazo”. Both of us were completely stumped, this was not a word we had ever heard, and it was pretty essential to the conversation. Neither of us knew if she was even talking about our drinks or the sandwich. Another woman who spoke a little better English had to come out and after a hesitant “como se dice…” she came out with “ranch dressing.” We definitely would have never guessed that. Anyways, problem solved, and now you know how to say ranch.

That’s a fun anecdote but the real lesson here is that you should wait to finish that coffee you ordered before you get in an Uber. We had tickets to the Frida Kahlo Museum and have heard you should get there early and that it can be a long trip from Roma Nte, so we called the Uber about an hour and a half before our scheduled entrance time, well before I had even taken a sip of my Americano.

What you need to understand is that drivers in Mexico City are insane. The driving experience is straight out of Mad Max: cars swerving between lanes recklessly, lane lines either barely visible or completely absent, and everyone desperately trying to get ahead, never giving an inch to the cabron trying to merge. Blinkers? Yielding? These are for the weak! In Coyoacan, there are four-way intersections everywhere and not a single one has four stop signs. Most have two, many have none. We literally saw an “Alto” sign that had been stuck behind a tree and over which some clever vandal had added a cross-out sign. Instead, cars dictate the flow of traffic by figurative testicle-weighing. Whoever is the boldest and most recklessly aggressive will win the right of way for his or her direction.

All of this is to say, it was a damn good thing I grabbed two napkins before I got in the car on the way to Coyoacan because my pants would have been even more soaked in hot coffee if I hadn’t. The drivers are nuts but the streets are also spotted with speed bumps to try and address some of the driving mania. That’s not a great formula for passengers in the backseat with their hand wrapping two napkins over the top of their coffee lid. Even with the napkins… complete mess. When you don’t know the roads, don’t trust the coffee.

Okay, don’t plan too much.

Besides the Frida Kahlo Museum, which was excellent by the way and well worth the visit, we planned to just walk around the neighborhood of Coyoacan. Keep it spontaneous, ya know? We know all the best lessons are the ones you learn with leeway. There’s so much to see in Coyoacan just carousing the streets. The neighborhood is beautiful, all rainbow adobe, open air cafes, and greenery. Nature and architecture blend seamlessly everywhere you walk.

We walked around the enormous local market and allowed ourselves to be panhandled into a seat at a tostada bar that took up a large amount of space right in the center of the market.

(A sub-lesson here: Don’t get too crazy with your food orders. I was feeling adventurous again and ordered a pata tostada, which is beef leg, which is like raw chicken-looking cold, slippery, gelatinous nastiness that tastes a little like those jello snacks you find in Chinatown. Not for me.)

Coyoacan is famous for tostadas, serving them with sour cream and cheese, and the cochinita, chicken with mole, and steak were all delicioso, the operation was just so large that most of the meat was pre-cooked so the tostadas came out room temperature or cold. Tasty still, but not ideal. We ordered a chicharron quesadilla at the end, figuring that had to be hot, and it was easily the highlight of the meal.

From there, we had a drink in La Plaza Hidalgo (mojito for me, Pinot Grigio for Lindsay) and enjoyed the beautiful weather, buzzing plaza, and the spontaneous mariachi bands and music boxes. Then a quick coffee at Cafe Avellenada, a literal hole in the wall with a bar and a couple espresso machines, where we sat on a bench against the wall sipping cold brew and watching the world roll by.

Always pee before you go.

Lindsay nearly made a puddle in the Uber on the way home. Got caught in traffic so the way back to Roma Nte. took about twice as long and I could practically hear her gritting her teeth next to me. Don’t worry, she took care of it. But yeah, if you feel like you have to go even a little, might as well try. I’ve been peeing and pooping all day and I feel great.

We’re back at the Airbnb for a quick break before heading out to El Hueqito, a taco place Anothony Bourdain covered on Parts Unknown.

[easyfoodnetwork]

Beyond the Nut Loaf

Coming up with new ways to make vegetables the main course wasn’t always easy for Deborah Madison. | Charles Amundson/Shutterstock

In an excerpt from “An Onion in My Pocket,” chef Deborah Madison creates a four-course vegetarian menu at a time when vegetarian fine dining was still a foreign concept to many

Deborah Madison is the author of nearly a dozen books on vegetarian cooking. Although not a vegetarian herself, since the publication of her first book in 1987, The Greens Cookbook, Madison has had significant influence on the way Americans eat and cook with vegetables.

In her new memoir, An Onion in My Pocket, Madison traces her path to the forefront of the vegetarian movement of the ’80s and ’90s. That path includes growing up San Francisco’s counterculture and decades spent as an ordained Buddhist priest, but perhaps the first clear indication that vegetables would play a major role in Madison’s career trajectory came when Madison took on the job as chef at Greens Restaurant. The vegetarian restaurant opened in 1979 as a part of the San Francisco Zen Center. There, Madison was tasked with creating a vegetarian fine-dining menu that would appeal to even non-vegetarians at a time when the nut loaf was considered by some to be the pinnacle of vegetarian cuisine. In this excerpt from An Onion in My Pocket, Madison explains how she made it work. — Monica Burton

Buy An Onion in My Pocket at Amazon or Bookshop.

Dinner was the meal that transformed Greens from a noisy, busy lunch place to a more tranquil restaurant. Tablecloths were laid out. Chunks of Swedish crystal held candles, and the dining room atmosphere turned quietly festive, a place where diners could take time with their meals while enjoying the unfolding evening sky and the eventual end of the day.

This is where I immediately took up the Chez Panisse style of offering a set menu rather than an à la carte approach. Now Greens offers a limited choice dinner menu, which I imagine makes it much easier to accommodate today’s more choosy eaters. But then we really didn’t have requests to cater to the special preferences of vegans and others. I’m not sure that there were vegans then. But that’s not what influenced my decision to go for a set menu. I simply felt it would work well for us because it would help introduce the concept of a somewhat formal four-course vegetarian dinner, which was still a foreign notion to a great many people.

How do you put together a menu for a meal that is meant to go on for a while, without the anchor of meat? This was the question I faced every weekend and how to answer it was a challenge for me, for us. I imagined it might be even more baffling for our customers, to have things all twisted about, to have what were usually appetizers suddenly become main courses. Some form of crepe? A vegetable ragout with polenta? Today this is hardly as problematic as it was then. Good vegetarian food — and Greens itself — has been around long enough that the meatless menu is not as mysterious as it once was. But in 1980 such possibilities were new, and people were unaccustomed to the idea of eating this way, without meat at the center of the plate.

There was another reason for the set menu. By being able to concentrate on a single menu and a particular progression of dishes, rather than having to produce a whole range of foods, I was hoping that we might be able to undertake somewhat more challenging fare, which we did. And having an ever-changing dinner menu was a way to accommodate all the new ideas that I had been putting in my notebooks, but it made for some dicey afternoons and evenings.

Most of the dishes we made none of us had ever cooked before, or even tasted before. We put our heads together and tried to figure them out before we started cooking. Of course getting that food from an idea to the table was a group effort. I could never have done any of it without the amazing staff I had. Jane Hirshfield, the poet, was then working with me. She was the most faithful and trusting right (and left) hand one could have. I’d ask Jane to make something I had only a vague idea about, and she would pleasantly say, “Okay,” and charge ahead without showing any worry or fear. I think she actually believed that things would work, and her assumption gave me the belief, or at least the hope, that they would, too. I wonder if she would have been so accepting had she known how thin the ice beneath us actually was.

Usually our untried dishes worked. But I held my breath a lot, hoped a lot, and I was continually anxious and always vaguely amazed when people let us know how much they liked the food. The best moment was when a guest would come into the kitchen and tell us, “The food was so good that we completely forgot there wasn’t any meat.” That was the highest compliment.

I’d never forgotten the good bread and butter that started the first meal I ate at Chez Panisse in 1977. Why not begin a meal with the best promise possible, good bread? (Remember, people ate bread then.) Those giant fougasse that Alice and I had bought in France impressed me with their bold shapes, and I thought we could make smaller ones suitable for two-tops or four-tops and just put them, still warm from the oven as they invariably were, right on the tables for people to break apart. A few slashes of the knife followed by a series of tugs, and an oval slab of rustic dough flavored with olive oil assumed the shape of a ladder or a tree. Sea salt and rosemary or sage were rolled into the surfaces and when the breads came out of the oven, they were brushed with olive oil. Their crusty perforations invited customers to pull off a rung or break off a branch. The crumbs scattering over the tablecloths said, “Relax and enjoy yourself; you don’t have to worry about keeping that tablecloth pristine.”

I tried to imagine some tired man dully anticipating a plate with a big hole in the middle where the meat would have been.

While we always had the bread, another thing I liked to do was present a table with roasted, salted almonds twisted into a package of parchment paper. This was an idea I gleaned from a few sentences in Elizabeth David’s book Spices, Salts and Aromatics in the English Kitchen, about a Somalian cook she had in Egypt, who twisted roasted almonds in paper to stave off nibblers. We could have put the almonds in a dish, but there was something about the rustle of that paper parcel being opened that warmed up the big dining room, especially early in the evening, before it filled. And of course, everybody likes a present, even roasted almonds.

First courses and soups weren’t a problem; we were pretty competent there. Salads made with the beautiful lettuce and herbs from Green Gulch were something we could count on to please. And from my time with Lindsey Shere at Chez Panisse, I was confident about making desserts to fill out the offerings from the Tassajara Bread Bakery. It was what to put in the center of the plate that I had to wrap my head around.

As I mentioned, our customers were not necessarily vegetarians. People came to Greens for the view, its growing reputation, maybe curiosity about what vegetarian food was like, but not because they were true believers. A lot of women came to lunch, then when we opened for dinner, they dragged along their husbands, who were probably looking forward to a steak, not to a meatless meal, on Friday or Saturday night. We had a good wine list, but I imagined the husbands would prefer to pair a Chalone pinot noir with a piece of beef over whatever we could offer. I tried to imagine some tired man dully anticipating a plate with a big hole in the middle where the meat would have been, should have been. He was the customer I worried about, and I thought constantly about what might fill that hole in the center of the plate. This was my big concern, what I lay awake thinking about.

I knew that it had to be something that caught the eye and proclaimed without wavering, “Here I am! I’m what’s for dinner! No need to look elsewhere!”

Of course, the “it” dish also had to be sufficiently familiar that the diner felt at ease. But it also had to have physical stature. It couldn’t be some shapeless thing like a plate of pasta or a stir fry or a vegetable ragout. It had to have substance and form, be something you could point to, look at, focus on. As one gets used to not eating meat, this problem pretty much tapers off and finally goes away, invariably returning on special occasions when, once again, the answer to “What’s for dinner?” has to be more than the name of a vegetable.

The most difficult kind of dish to present, and this was generally true whether there was meat present or not, was a stew, or ragout, which was too bad because these were dishes that I felt I had something of a gift for. Sadly, lunch favorites, like the Zuni Stew or Corn, Bean, and Pumpkin Stew, never made the dinner cut, and a dal, as appealingly as it can be made and garnished, didn’t either. Not then, anyway. A mushroom ragout, I found, did work, though, if it were paired with something that had a clear shape, like triangles of grilled polenta, a square of puff pastry, or a timbale of risotto. But the stew also had to have a very good and well-crafted sauce, and wild mushrooms helped enough that they became almost mandatory.

Years later, after having left Greens, I was visiting Calgary’s Blackfoot Farmers’ Market, researching my book Local Flavors. That chilly fall evening I ate at the River Café, a rustic building that sits on an island in the middle of a river. There the chef presented me with a vegetarian stew, which worked perfectly in her fine-dining restaurant although I think she made only the one serving since it wasn’t on the menu. The stew was based on winter root vegetables, but this handsome dish also contained black lentils and a potato puree and it was all circled with a rich, deeply flavored red wine sauce. The flavors were harmonious and complex. There were different textures to go to so that the dish was interesting to eat. It was also gorgeous to look at and extremely satisfying in every way. It was a perfect vegetarian entree. In fact, I was so impressed that I came up with my own version of it in Local Flavors. That was the kind of stew that worked at Greens, but you can see how many elements have to be there for it to really grab the diner.

Mostly I looked for dishes that could be folded, stacked, layered, or otherwise given shape. Tart-based and crepe-based dishes were shoo-ins when it came to form and they still are. Crust always helps provide definition and many things can fill a tart shell besides the classic quiche filling that had introduced the idea of a savory pie in the first place. Some possibilities were chard and saffron; roasted eggplant and tomato; artichokes, mushrooms, leeks with lemon, and goat cheese (new then); winter squash with Roquefort; goat cheese thinned with cream and seasoned with fresh thyme. A tart made into a single serving with the help of special small tart pans really stood out. It was far more special than a wedge, even if everything else about it was the same.

Crepes had the dual advantage of being familiar and being endlessly versatile. Personally, I don’t think crepes ever really lose their appeal; I still make them and people always like them. Plus there are a great many things you can do with crepes. At Greens we made them using different flours — wheat, corn, buckwheat, masa harina — and filled them with an assortment of good things, then folded, rolled, or stacked them. Today I season a crepe batter with saffron and herbs and serve it in place of bread. I also use quinoa, spelt, and other flours that have since entered the culture in the batter. The Many-Layered Crepe Cake, inspired by a Marcella Hazan recipe, not only was one of the most delicious entrees we served, but, when cut, its eight exposed layers told the diner that a lot of care had gone into her entree, and surely that counted for something.

I didn’t see any need to offer meat substitutes when vegetables could be so stellar on their own.

Timbales — those vegetable and herb-saturated custards paired with sauces — also made good entrees with their solid yet tender textures and attractive shapes. The basic idea came from Julia Child’s Art of French Cooking, but we expanded on it, changing the size and shapes of our timbales so that they could transcend their original role as a small garnish to a meat dish and assume their position as a main course. Roulades, or rolled soufflés, were light and pretty to serve with their spiraled interiors showing the layers of filling. Being egg based they went especially well with spinach, chard, sorrel, and mushrooms, or sauces based on these vegetables, such as the sorrel-mushroom sauce in The Greens Cookbook. Filo pastries assumed the form of spanakopita but not the flavor as the fillings changed to include vegetables other than spinach (such as artichokes), plus nuts (like hazelnuts), and cheeses other than feta.

We were careful about serving pasta as a main dish. A main dish had to have some volume so that it lasted for a while, but a large portion of pasta could become tiresome to eat — and it could chill down before it was finished if people were eating slowly, as they generally were when enjoying dinner and conversation in a restaurant. Yet there were many intriguing pasta recipes to explore, especially filled or layered ones. If we did serve pasta as a main course, we made our own dough, formed it into crescent-shaped agnolotti, and filled them with things such as herb-flecked ricotta, butternut squash with toasted pecans and sage — not common then — or a mixture of roasted eggplant and pine nuts. We might feature wild mushrooms in a lasagna. Simpler pasta dishes appeared as smaller first courses, where they could be eaten more quickly, without being too filling.

Cheese and Nut Loaf was the kind of seventies vegetarian dish that I dreaded meeting up with. I didn’t see any need to offer meat substitutes when vegetables could be so stellar on their own, but when a senior student brought in a recipe that her sister had sent her with the promise that this was a truly fantastic dish, I felt obligated to try it. We did and unfortunately people loved it. There was no big mystery as to why they liked it so much, despite the funky name. Nut Loaf was insanely rich with roasted cashew nuts, pecans, a miscellany of grated cheeses, cottage cheese, eggs, mushrooms, and finally, a little bit of brown rice to give all this fat something to cling to. It was dense, chewy, and good in an obvious sort of way, the way sausage, bacon, and meatloaf are good. Once we put it on the menu as a lunch special it was hard to get rid of. We served it just like meatloaf with tangy tomato sauce; turned it into a meatloaf sandwich, grilling it first over mesquite; and we used it to stuff peppers and cabbage. It made a few appearances on the dinner menu but I always found it embarrassing to serve. Still, people loved it.

In general, the dishes that had the best possibilities of succeeding were those usually served as first or second courses, or as (amplified) garnishes to the main dish in more classic cuisines. If I just shifted everything a notch and eliminated the meaty center, I could usually solve my main dish problem. Even a vegetable gratin worked if I made it in an individual dish and slid it onto a bed of wilted greens or perhaps a salad that benefited from being wilted by the heat.

At that time I had a tendency to cook richly, using plenty of butter, eggs, and cream when it made sense. I was unsure about bringing vegetarian food into a mainstream venue, and I knew that we could always make something good when we relied on cream or buttery crusts, and that customers would like them. Fat was easy to fall back on in this way. Also this was 1979 and the early 1980s, an era of cream, butter, and cheese — not just at Greens, but in restaurants everywhere. Our dinners were rich, celebratory splurges, not substitutes for home cooking. I can’t tell you how many people have told me they were proposed to at Greens, or got married there.

Think of this: When we first opened we had only one vegan customer, whom we nicknamed “Non-Dairy Jerry.” Jerry made a big deal about not having cheese in his meal and as he was the only one, we could easily accommodate his wishes. We could even give him a name. Today I suspect there are plenty of vegan, gluten-free, raw, grain-free, and other special eaters. But it is also true that now people find lighter dishes as appealing as the rich dishes that we offered then, even far more so than when we first got started and vegetarian food was pretty much a novelty and eating out was special, not just a way to find sustenance.

Excerpted from AN ONION IN MY POCKET: My Life with Vegetables by Deborah Madison. Copyright © 2020 by Deborah Madison. Excerpted by permission of Alfred A. Knopf, a division of Penguin Random House LLC. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/3naCRtB https://ift.tt/2Io6N6F

Coming up with new ways to make vegetables the main course wasn’t always easy for Deborah Madison. | Charles Amundson/Shutterstock

In an excerpt from “An Onion in My Pocket,” chef Deborah Madison creates a four-course vegetarian menu at a time when vegetarian fine dining was still a foreign concept to many

Deborah Madison is the author of nearly a dozen books on vegetarian cooking. Although not a vegetarian herself, since the publication of her first book in 1987, The Greens Cookbook, Madison has had significant influence on the way Americans eat and cook with vegetables.

In her new memoir, An Onion in My Pocket, Madison traces her path to the forefront of the vegetarian movement of the ’80s and ’90s. That path includes growing up San Francisco’s counterculture and decades spent as an ordained Buddhist priest, but perhaps the first clear indication that vegetables would play a major role in Madison’s career trajectory came when Madison took on the job as chef at Greens Restaurant. The vegetarian restaurant opened in 1979 as a part of the San Francisco Zen Center. There, Madison was tasked with creating a vegetarian fine-dining menu that would appeal to even non-vegetarians at a time when the nut loaf was considered by some to be the pinnacle of vegetarian cuisine. In this excerpt from An Onion in My Pocket, Madison explains how she made it work. — Monica Burton

Buy An Onion in My Pocket at Amazon or Bookshop.

Dinner was the meal that transformed Greens from a noisy, busy lunch place to a more tranquil restaurant. Tablecloths were laid out. Chunks of Swedish crystal held candles, and the dining room atmosphere turned quietly festive, a place where diners could take time with their meals while enjoying the unfolding evening sky and the eventual end of the day.

This is where I immediately took up the Chez Panisse style of offering a set menu rather than an à la carte approach. Now Greens offers a limited choice dinner menu, which I imagine makes it much easier to accommodate today’s more choosy eaters. But then we really didn’t have requests to cater to the special preferences of vegans and others. I’m not sure that there were vegans then. But that’s not what influenced my decision to go for a set menu. I simply felt it would work well for us because it would help introduce the concept of a somewhat formal four-course vegetarian dinner, which was still a foreign notion to a great many people.

How do you put together a menu for a meal that is meant to go on for a while, without the anchor of meat? This was the question I faced every weekend and how to answer it was a challenge for me, for us. I imagined it might be even more baffling for our customers, to have things all twisted about, to have what were usually appetizers suddenly become main courses. Some form of crepe? A vegetable ragout with polenta? Today this is hardly as problematic as it was then. Good vegetarian food — and Greens itself — has been around long enough that the meatless menu is not as mysterious as it once was. But in 1980 such possibilities were new, and people were unaccustomed to the idea of eating this way, without meat at the center of the plate.

There was another reason for the set menu. By being able to concentrate on a single menu and a particular progression of dishes, rather than having to produce a whole range of foods, I was hoping that we might be able to undertake somewhat more challenging fare, which we did. And having an ever-changing dinner menu was a way to accommodate all the new ideas that I had been putting in my notebooks, but it made for some dicey afternoons and evenings.

Most of the dishes we made none of us had ever cooked before, or even tasted before. We put our heads together and tried to figure them out before we started cooking. Of course getting that food from an idea to the table was a group effort. I could never have done any of it without the amazing staff I had. Jane Hirshfield, the poet, was then working with me. She was the most faithful and trusting right (and left) hand one could have. I’d ask Jane to make something I had only a vague idea about, and she would pleasantly say, “Okay,” and charge ahead without showing any worry or fear. I think she actually believed that things would work, and her assumption gave me the belief, or at least the hope, that they would, too. I wonder if she would have been so accepting had she known how thin the ice beneath us actually was.

Usually our untried dishes worked. But I held my breath a lot, hoped a lot, and I was continually anxious and always vaguely amazed when people let us know how much they liked the food. The best moment was when a guest would come into the kitchen and tell us, “The food was so good that we completely forgot there wasn’t any meat.” That was the highest compliment.

I’d never forgotten the good bread and butter that started the first meal I ate at Chez Panisse in 1977. Why not begin a meal with the best promise possible, good bread? (Remember, people ate bread then.) Those giant fougasse that Alice and I had bought in France impressed me with their bold shapes, and I thought we could make smaller ones suitable for two-tops or four-tops and just put them, still warm from the oven as they invariably were, right on the tables for people to break apart. A few slashes of the knife followed by a series of tugs, and an oval slab of rustic dough flavored with olive oil assumed the shape of a ladder or a tree. Sea salt and rosemary or sage were rolled into the surfaces and when the breads came out of the oven, they were brushed with olive oil. Their crusty perforations invited customers to pull off a rung or break off a branch. The crumbs scattering over the tablecloths said, “Relax and enjoy yourself; you don’t have to worry about keeping that tablecloth pristine.”

I tried to imagine some tired man dully anticipating a plate with a big hole in the middle where the meat would have been.

While we always had the bread, another thing I liked to do was present a table with roasted, salted almonds twisted into a package of parchment paper. This was an idea I gleaned from a few sentences in Elizabeth David’s book Spices, Salts and Aromatics in the English Kitchen, about a Somalian cook she had in Egypt, who twisted roasted almonds in paper to stave off nibblers. We could have put the almonds in a dish, but there was something about the rustle of that paper parcel being opened that warmed up the big dining room, especially early in the evening, before it filled. And of course, everybody likes a present, even roasted almonds.

First courses and soups weren’t a problem; we were pretty competent there. Salads made with the beautiful lettuce and herbs from Green Gulch were something we could count on to please. And from my time with Lindsey Shere at Chez Panisse, I was confident about making desserts to fill out the offerings from the Tassajara Bread Bakery. It was what to put in the center of the plate that I had to wrap my head around.

As I mentioned, our customers were not necessarily vegetarians. People came to Greens for the view, its growing reputation, maybe curiosity about what vegetarian food was like, but not because they were true believers. A lot of women came to lunch, then when we opened for dinner, they dragged along their husbands, who were probably looking forward to a steak, not to a meatless meal, on Friday or Saturday night. We had a good wine list, but I imagined the husbands would prefer to pair a Chalone pinot noir with a piece of beef over whatever we could offer. I tried to imagine some tired man dully anticipating a plate with a big hole in the middle where the meat would have been, should have been. He was the customer I worried about, and I thought constantly about what might fill that hole in the center of the plate. This was my big concern, what I lay awake thinking about.

I knew that it had to be something that caught the eye and proclaimed without wavering, “Here I am! I’m what’s for dinner! No need to look elsewhere!”

Of course, the “it” dish also had to be sufficiently familiar that the diner felt at ease. But it also had to have physical stature. It couldn’t be some shapeless thing like a plate of pasta or a stir fry or a vegetable ragout. It had to have substance and form, be something you could point to, look at, focus on. As one gets used to not eating meat, this problem pretty much tapers off and finally goes away, invariably returning on special occasions when, once again, the answer to “What’s for dinner?” has to be more than the name of a vegetable.

The most difficult kind of dish to present, and this was generally true whether there was meat present or not, was a stew, or ragout, which was too bad because these were dishes that I felt I had something of a gift for. Sadly, lunch favorites, like the Zuni Stew or Corn, Bean, and Pumpkin Stew, never made the dinner cut, and a dal, as appealingly as it can be made and garnished, didn’t either. Not then, anyway. A mushroom ragout, I found, did work, though, if it were paired with something that had a clear shape, like triangles of grilled polenta, a square of puff pastry, or a timbale of risotto. But the stew also had to have a very good and well-crafted sauce, and wild mushrooms helped enough that they became almost mandatory.

Years later, after having left Greens, I was visiting Calgary’s Blackfoot Farmers’ Market, researching my book Local Flavors. That chilly fall evening I ate at the River Café, a rustic building that sits on an island in the middle of a river. There the chef presented me with a vegetarian stew, which worked perfectly in her fine-dining restaurant although I think she made only the one serving since it wasn’t on the menu. The stew was based on winter root vegetables, but this handsome dish also contained black lentils and a potato puree and it was all circled with a rich, deeply flavored red wine sauce. The flavors were harmonious and complex. There were different textures to go to so that the dish was interesting to eat. It was also gorgeous to look at and extremely satisfying in every way. It was a perfect vegetarian entree. In fact, I was so impressed that I came up with my own version of it in Local Flavors. That was the kind of stew that worked at Greens, but you can see how many elements have to be there for it to really grab the diner.

Mostly I looked for dishes that could be folded, stacked, layered, or otherwise given shape. Tart-based and crepe-based dishes were shoo-ins when it came to form and they still are. Crust always helps provide definition and many things can fill a tart shell besides the classic quiche filling that had introduced the idea of a savory pie in the first place. Some possibilities were chard and saffron; roasted eggplant and tomato; artichokes, mushrooms, leeks with lemon, and goat cheese (new then); winter squash with Roquefort; goat cheese thinned with cream and seasoned with fresh thyme. A tart made into a single serving with the help of special small tart pans really stood out. It was far more special than a wedge, even if everything else about it was the same.

Crepes had the dual advantage of being familiar and being endlessly versatile. Personally, I don’t think crepes ever really lose their appeal; I still make them and people always like them. Plus there are a great many things you can do with crepes. At Greens we made them using different flours — wheat, corn, buckwheat, masa harina — and filled them with an assortment of good things, then folded, rolled, or stacked them. Today I season a crepe batter with saffron and herbs and serve it in place of bread. I also use quinoa, spelt, and other flours that have since entered the culture in the batter. The Many-Layered Crepe Cake, inspired by a Marcella Hazan recipe, not only was one of the most delicious entrees we served, but, when cut, its eight exposed layers told the diner that a lot of care had gone into her entree, and surely that counted for something.

I didn’t see any need to offer meat substitutes when vegetables could be so stellar on their own.

Timbales — those vegetable and herb-saturated custards paired with sauces — also made good entrees with their solid yet tender textures and attractive shapes. The basic idea came from Julia Child’s Art of French Cooking, but we expanded on it, changing the size and shapes of our timbales so that they could transcend their original role as a small garnish to a meat dish and assume their position as a main course. Roulades, or rolled soufflés, were light and pretty to serve with their spiraled interiors showing the layers of filling. Being egg based they went especially well with spinach, chard, sorrel, and mushrooms, or sauces based on these vegetables, such as the sorrel-mushroom sauce in The Greens Cookbook. Filo pastries assumed the form of spanakopita but not the flavor as the fillings changed to include vegetables other than spinach (such as artichokes), plus nuts (like hazelnuts), and cheeses other than feta.

We were careful about serving pasta as a main dish. A main dish had to have some volume so that it lasted for a while, but a large portion of pasta could become tiresome to eat — and it could chill down before it was finished if people were eating slowly, as they generally were when enjoying dinner and conversation in a restaurant. Yet there were many intriguing pasta recipes to explore, especially filled or layered ones. If we did serve pasta as a main course, we made our own dough, formed it into crescent-shaped agnolotti, and filled them with things such as herb-flecked ricotta, butternut squash with toasted pecans and sage — not common then — or a mixture of roasted eggplant and pine nuts. We might feature wild mushrooms in a lasagna. Simpler pasta dishes appeared as smaller first courses, where they could be eaten more quickly, without being too filling.

Cheese and Nut Loaf was the kind of seventies vegetarian dish that I dreaded meeting up with. I didn’t see any need to offer meat substitutes when vegetables could be so stellar on their own, but when a senior student brought in a recipe that her sister had sent her with the promise that this was a truly fantastic dish, I felt obligated to try it. We did and unfortunately people loved it. There was no big mystery as to why they liked it so much, despite the funky name. Nut Loaf was insanely rich with roasted cashew nuts, pecans, a miscellany of grated cheeses, cottage cheese, eggs, mushrooms, and finally, a little bit of brown rice to give all this fat something to cling to. It was dense, chewy, and good in an obvious sort of way, the way sausage, bacon, and meatloaf are good. Once we put it on the menu as a lunch special it was hard to get rid of. We served it just like meatloaf with tangy tomato sauce; turned it into a meatloaf sandwich, grilling it first over mesquite; and we used it to stuff peppers and cabbage. It made a few appearances on the dinner menu but I always found it embarrassing to serve. Still, people loved it.

In general, the dishes that had the best possibilities of succeeding were those usually served as first or second courses, or as (amplified) garnishes to the main dish in more classic cuisines. If I just shifted everything a notch and eliminated the meaty center, I could usually solve my main dish problem. Even a vegetable gratin worked if I made it in an individual dish and slid it onto a bed of wilted greens or perhaps a salad that benefited from being wilted by the heat.

At that time I had a tendency to cook richly, using plenty of butter, eggs, and cream when it made sense. I was unsure about bringing vegetarian food into a mainstream venue, and I knew that we could always make something good when we relied on cream or buttery crusts, and that customers would like them. Fat was easy to fall back on in this way. Also this was 1979 and the early 1980s, an era of cream, butter, and cheese — not just at Greens, but in restaurants everywhere. Our dinners were rich, celebratory splurges, not substitutes for home cooking. I can’t tell you how many people have told me they were proposed to at Greens, or got married there.

Think of this: When we first opened we had only one vegan customer, whom we nicknamed “Non-Dairy Jerry.” Jerry made a big deal about not having cheese in his meal and as he was the only one, we could easily accommodate his wishes. We could even give him a name. Today I suspect there are plenty of vegan, gluten-free, raw, grain-free, and other special eaters. But it is also true that now people find lighter dishes as appealing as the rich dishes that we offered then, even far more so than when we first got started and vegetarian food was pretty much a novelty and eating out was special, not just a way to find sustenance.

Excerpted from AN ONION IN MY POCKET: My Life with Vegetables by Deborah Madison. Copyright © 2020 by Deborah Madison. Excerpted by permission of Alfred A. Knopf, a division of Penguin Random House LLC. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.

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Photo: ClassicStock/Getty Images All the grills and grilling accessories a grill master could want, from the Strategist At its most basic, grilling is cooking on an open flame, like what our prehistoric ancestors used to do, but if you’re not the kind of person who takes pleasure in lighting charcoal on fire and then cooking big slabs of meat on it, you might be struggling to find the best grilling gifts for someone who does. (Though even self-described grill enthusiasts sometimes need help finding an actually useful but still unique grilling gift.) So to make it easy, we rounded up 21 of the best grills and grilling accessories that would be excellent gifts for the person in your life who likes to fire it up. For the griller who struggles with lighting charcoal BBQ Dragon Cordless Grill Fan in Silver Jean-Paul Bourgeois of New York City’s Blue Smoke calls the BBQ Dragon, “a fire starter’s best friend. This easy-to-use little gadget will clip onto any grill or smoker and assist you in getting those coals burning fast and evenly.” For the griller who mostly cooks with charcoal Panacea 15343 Ash Bucket With Shovel, Black If anyone plays a little fast and loose with the disposal of coals, or wants a safer way to do it, this steel ash bucket will help prevent accidents. As Hugh Magnum, pitmaster at Mighty Quinn’s Barbecue, explains, “It sometimes takes as long as two days for coals to be completely cold, so you don’t put any coals for at least two days into a trash bag, or else that trash bag will go up in flames.” For the griller who’s terrified of burns Artisan Griller Insulated Cooking Gloves Writer Caitlin M. O’Shaughnessy was introduced to these pit gloves by her mother, who used them to take a full turkey out of the oven. “The cotton-lined gloves are coated with neoprene rubber and designed for true-blue barbecuers who have to handle hot meat on the smoker — that means they’re also waterproof, stainproof, and (most importantly) greaseproof.” They also come recommended by Patrick Martin of Martin’s Bar-B-Que Joint in Nashville, who actually prefers these heavy-duty gloves to tongs, especially when working with big cuts of meat, like whole hogs. For the griller who’s looking to streamline Stingray 7 in 1 BBQ Tool Swap out the tool kit for this 7-in-1 grilling tool, recommended by self-described “pretty competent outdoor griller” Steven John, who calls this “the Swiss Army knife of grilling equipment, combining all three tools and even sporting a bottle opener built into its handle.” For the griller who loves steak Sloan Personalized Miniature Steak Branding Iron For Valentine’s Day, writer Leah Bhabha gifted her carnivorous boyfriend a personalized branding iron, purchased on Amazon, and it was an instant hit. “We’ve now emblazoned his initials on everything from ribs to rib eyes, and even busted out the brander for cast-iron cooked burgers (the patty’s initials were covered by the bun, but he liked it so much he branded them anyway).” For the griller who prefers chicken Two-in-One Vertical Chicken Roasting Pan Nick Pihakis of Jim ’N Nicks Bar-B-Q in Birmingham, Alabama, calls this chicken-roasting contraption “one of the best ways to cook a chicken. Not only is upright roasting the optimal position to roast a chicken (fat drips away, heat surrounds the chicken 360 degrees, skin crisps up better), this cooking method allows the steam and vapors to flavor the chicken from the inside cavity out, helping it to stay moist.” For the griller who’s also a hibachi enthusiast Elite Platinum EMG-980B Large Indoor Electric Round Nonstick Grilling Surface If dinner has become a bit of a slog recently, consider setting up a hibachi or Korean barbecue night and using this highly rated indoor grill to do it. Reviewers on Amazon say, true to advertising, it’s truly non-stick (so feel free to go all in on your marinades) and is just as effective at grilling vegetables as a grilling a sturdy ribeye. For the griller who’s not sure what to do with vegetables Sur La Table Stainless Steel Grill Basket Steven John recommends a grill basket, “that can be placed atop any sort of grill (charcoal, gas, or even wood fire) and filled with loose veggies, shrimp, fries, and so on.” It keeps these more delicate ingredients from sticking to the grill’s grates, and, as John notes, “the grate’s cleaner, too.” For the griller who over-checks their meat Thermapen Mk4 Thermometer A meat thermometer is a must-have accessory for a barbecue enthusiast to quickly and easily ensure that meat is fully cooked but not overdone. And for my money, there’s no meat thermometer better than the Thermapen. As I wrote in my review of this gadget, “What makes the Thermapen stand out from other digital kitchen thermometers is its speed and accuracy. According to the manufacturer’s website, this food thermometer can tell the real-time temperature of whatever you’re trying to measure within 0.7 degrees Fahrenheit in under three seconds. That speed makes a noticeable difference when you’re balancing a roasting pan on a hot oven door as you try to take the temperature of whatever’s inside without burning yourself or letting out too much heat,” or dealing with a hot barbecue grill. (And I’m in good company. The Thermapen also comes recommended by Amy and Mike Mills of 17th St. BBQ in Murphysboro, Illinois.) For the griller who’s getting into marinades Boiled Cider Syrup In his roundup of the best condiments you can buy on Amazon, writer Hugh Merwin recommends this boiled cider, which is “kind of pure apple essence,” he explains. However, that sweetness makes it an excellent addition to a barbecue tool kit. “Grillmasters use it at the base of marinades, where it tenderizes meat and its mildly tart and subtle flavor blends in with wood smoke.” For the griller with a small patio Fire Sense Large Yakatori Charcoal Grill Recommended by Leslie Roark Scott of Ubon’s Barbeque in Yazoo City, Mississippi, this large yakitori grill is ideal for those in a “tight space. It’s the perfect size for a couple of steaks, and holds heat like a champ.” For the griller with no patio Weber 10020 Smokey Joe If you’re looking to gift a truly portable grill, for someone who dreams of grilling in Prospect Park, the Weber Smokey Joe is a classic choice. It’s a no-frills option, but it’s got the same durability as the larger kettle-style Weber grill. For the indoor grill enthusiast who hates smoke Philips Indoor Smokeless Grill We discovered this indoor smokeless grill while watching Queer Eye on Netflix, and it’s a solid option for someone who wants to grill but is constrained by the realities of living in an apartment. It uses infrared light to heat the grill and help prevent smoking from dripping fat. For the indoor grill enthusiast who doesn’t want another gadget Lodge Pro-Grid Cast-Iron Grill and Griddle Combo. Reversible 20 x 10.44” Grill/Griddle Pan With Easy-Grip Handles Though it’s more likely to smoke up your kitchen, this cast-iron grill plate from Lodge is “the indoor grill that’s closest in spirit to firing up the charcoal.” (Plus, because it’s essentially a flat piece of cast-iron, it’s much easier to store than a new appliance.) For the griller who likes that smoky taste Z Grills ZPG-7002E As Steven John explains, “a pellet grill is a barbecue grill that uses an automatically fed supply of wood pellets to maintain a preestablished temperature and infuse the cooking foods with smoke aroma and flavor. Your fuel source is also your smoke source.” That means your meat takes longer to cook, but it’s also got more smoky flavor, and in his testing of pellet grills, John liked this one from Z Grills, in part because “you can load up enough wood pellets for hours of smoking with minimal refills required.” For the griller who wants to go full pitmaster Masterbuilt MES 130B Digital Electric Smoker On a long hunt for the “best, not-too-massive city grill,” Lauren Levy discovered that the best barbecue grill is actually this digital smoker from Masterbuilt. That’s according to Myron Mixon, the winningest man in barbecue, who explains, “It’s a digital smoker, so you can actually punch in the temperature you want and it takes you right there from 100 degrees to 275 degrees in just a few minutes.” He continues, “The truth is, everything that someone would want to barbecue you can cook with the Masterbuilt smoker, and it’s much more delicious.” For the griller who likes to cook low and slow Akorn Jr. Kamado Kooker The first rule of Grilling 101: Leave the meat be. But when you’re constantly worried about your provisions burning that can be difficult to do. That’s why the grilling enthusiasts of Amazon love the Akorn Jr., a ceramic, kamado-style grill that does an excellent job of maintaining low temperatures. Plus, it’s about a tenth of the price of the popular, kamado-style Big Green Egg grill. For the griller who tries to keep their grill spotless Drillbrush BBQ Accessories I’ve written about the Drillbrush as the best tool to keep my shower clean, but the company makes different brush attachments with different stiffnesses for different purposes, like this barbecue accessories set, which can be used to detail-clean even the most grease-stained grill. For the griller who likes to grill and chill YETI Roadie 20 Cooler “When you’re smoking whole hogs, you can’t go for a beer run, so you need a good cooler that’s going to keep your beer cold for the night,” wisely notes Patrick Martin of Martin’s Bar-B-Que Joint. That’s why he recommends a Yeti cooler to keep by the grill. “I guarantee when you reach for a beer, it’s gonna be good and cold — just like it should be.” For the griller who likes to carve meat John Boos Block BBQBD Reversible Maple Wood Edge Grain BBQ Cutting Board With Juice Groove This sturdy Boos block has a juice groove to catch any liquid that might come out when carving a big hunk of barbecue. (And this gift certainly doesn’t have to be retired once grilling season is over. It’ll also come in handy at Thanksgiving, when it’s time to carve the turkey.) For the griller who likes eating barbecue more than cooking Messermeister Avanta 4-Piece Fine Edge Steak Knife Set Once they cook the meat, they’ll need something to help you eat it, and that’s where these Messermeister steak knives come in. “There’s a curious delight in using these very, very sharp steak knives to bisect a morsel of beef (or pork, or chicken, or whatever flesh you have lying around),” writes Katie Arnold-Ratliff in her ode to these. “The blade slices through the steak with tactile precision — a kind of buttery, slippery ease that makes me say every time my boyfriend and I use these knives, which is a lot, ‘Man I love these knives.’” from Eater - All https://ift.tt/2BbdFk9

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