Top 10 Useless Kitchen Gadgets...

I'd share a picture of one of these contraptions, but I don't have one -- picture or contraption.

That's not to say I haven't had one or three of these "tools" in my kitchen at one time or another.

I have, but after discovering they were pretty much worthless, I donated them.

Why donate instead of toss? Because...

One cooks trash is another cook's treasure.

Even though I've found these doohickeys to be useless, that doesn't mean that someone else, who thinks their kitchen revolves around said items, is wrong. Unenlightened, perhaps, but definitely not wrong.

Teaching cooking classes in dozens of kitchen stores across the country has given me the opportunity to play with more clever-but-inane tools than you can shake a whisk at.

I love gadgets as much as the next cook, but the 10 items on this certifiably unscientific and utterly biased list, do not belong in the kitchen. At least not in mine.

Without further ado, here are the top 10 useless, and therefore don't-waste-your-money kitchen gadgets:

(drum roll, please...)




10. Grapefruit knife

The serrated edge is a good idea in theory, but it just tears the juice pockets. A paring knife works just as well.

9. Strawberry huller

It never works anyway, sometimes leaving bits of leaves behind, or worse, grabbing valuable flesh along with the core, which by the way, tastes just fine if the strawberry is at peak ripeness.

8. Asparagus peeler

Looks cool, but a regular peeler does the same job.

7. Spaghetti server

Tongs work just as well to grab and serve spaghetti. Save a slot in your drawer or utensil crock for another spatula or wooden spoon, both of which are much more versatile.

6. Hand held mini chopper

Never chops evenly. A chef's knife does a much better job.

5. Artichoke stand

Full disclosure: this is the only one on the list that I haven't personally tried, but seriously, a stand to set artichokes on for steaming? Must have been made by the same folks who made the vertical roasting stand for chickens, another gadget that belongs on this list.

4. Creme Brulee torch

Pul-leeze! Your arm will get tired before your sugar burns. Get yourself a real propane torch from Ace Hardware.

3. Avocado scoop

Always leaves behind the brightest green flesh, and I never seem to buy an avocado that's just the right size for this tool.

2. Egg separator

The best egg separator is attached to your arm.

1. Mango pitter

Good idea, bad execution. Every mango pit is different, so you either leave too much mango on the pit, or the pit is too large and the pitter gets stuck, so you end up making chunky mango puree from repeated attempts.

This I believe...

A baker I am not. The whole scientific process intimidates me.

I still shudder when I think about the impact salt can have on yeast.

Did you know that salt can kill yeast? That’s heavy! How do I keep salt and yeast separated long enough for the yeast to have a fighting chance?

I believe bakers are different from normal, everyday folks. Bakers are born with an innate ability to judge things that I cannot.

They know what the dough should look and feel like, and how high it should rise before punching it down. And by punching, do they mean actually hitting the dough with brute force?

A baker's vocabulary is a secret code with undulating terms such as proofing and scaling, creaming, foaming and of course, the muffin method. It’s a conspiracy.

Bakers know what’s missing after only one bite of a cake or bread. My talented, if militant, Chef instructor in beginning baking class, took one bite of my angel food cake and said, “You forgot to add vanilla, didn’t you?”

How did she know that?

I tasted it and didn’t notice vanilla was missing. It tasted like a sugary but dry sponge. It is a sixth sense that I, as a savory cook, do not have.

Testing the bread and pastry recipes for my cookbooks proved to be enormously rewarding for me, and perhaps I learned more than I thought I did during six weeks of baking and pastry classes during my culinary training.

If I can bake breads and cakes, anyone can. You do have to follow the directions, as the ingredient amounts and seemingly inane processes are developed for a specific purpose, like creating a chemical reaction that causes the bread to rise.

It’s not as free form as creating a sauce, which is driven entirely by taste and appearance. But baking has its sweet rewards.

The smell of freshly baked bread is outdone only by the first bite into a hot buttered slice of soft, yeasty bread.

It’s worth the stress of mixing, kneading and punching and keeping the peace between salt and yeast.

Recommended bread books:

The Bread Baker's Apprentice by Peter Reinhart

The Bread Bible by Rose Levy Beranbaum

Professional Baking, 5th Edition by Wayne Gisslen

50 Quintessential American Dishes

I just read a story about the top 10 dishes of Great Britain, and it got me thinking about what an American top 10 list would look like.

To be fair, our list has to be longer and not just because we're a nation of braggarts -- that would be a Texas list (and before you go all crazy on me, I'm from Texas and I say that with the utmost pride).

Geographically speaking, the USA is 38 times the size of Great Britain and population-wise, it's five times as large, ergo, we need a bigger list than just 10 dishes.

While I'm certain that I could come up with 380 dishes in a flash, in the interest of keeping your attention, I think I'll just rattle off 50.

To even begin talking about America's top dishes, you have to think both nationally and regionally. While it would be easy to list the top three as apple pie, hot dogs and ice cream, I want to delve a little deeper and pick dishes that not only define us as Americans, but ones that also reflect the melting pot that is our population.

We are a nation of immigrants. Only a few of us are descendants of Native Americans. Our foods are also reflective of this ethnic stew. Some of our foods are truly native: corn, beans and squash, for example. Others came with the Spanish (cows and pigs) and Africans (okra) and other settlers. Still others brought certain cooking techniques (the French and Germans specifically come to mind).

I'm not sure if 50 is long enough to reflect the diversity among our most recognized dishes, but it's a start. So, without further ado, here we go:

(drum roll, please)




50. Blackened redfish (thank you, Paul Prudhomme)

49. Root beer float

48. Pimiento cheese sandwich

47. Scrapple (although I'm not particularly fond of this, many, many Americans swear by it)

46. Frito pie (I'm particularly fond of this staple from my childhood)

45. Bundt cakes (any flavor, sour cream coffee cake is the most popular)

44. Green goddess dressing (over any kind of lettuce, perhaps romaine is traditional)

43. Chicken & dumplings

42. Maryland crab cakes

41. Whoopie pie (yippee!)

40. Jambalaya

39. Cioppino (San Francisco would be hurt if I left them out, they're sensitive that way)

38. Shoofly pie

37. Iceberg wedge with blue cheese dressing

36. Pecan sticky buns

35. Denver Omelet

34. Peach cobbler

33. New England clam chowder

32. Buttermilk pancakes

31. Brunswick stew

30. Philly cheesesteak

29. Chicken fried steak with cream gravy (don't forget the biscuits)

28. Fried rice (of course we fry the rice, we'll fry anything)

27. The Po'boy (oyster, shrimp or even roast beef for purists)

26. Shrimp & grits (I personally like the New Orleans style but the South Carolina version rocks, too)

25. Brown Betty

24. Cedar-planked salmon (Seriously? Only one Northwestern dish? I need to go to Portland)

23. Cobb salad

22. Meatloaf

21. King Ranch chicken casserole

20. Kansas City spareribs (notice I didn't say BBQ -- remember, I'm from Texas and we think we invented BBQ)

19. Succotash

18. Fried catfish

17. Soft shell crabs, fried of course

16. Black-eyed peas

15. Seafood gumbo

14.Wisconsin cheese soup

13. Collard greens (or mustard greens)

12. Grilled cheese (fancy schmancy or plain)

11. Mashed potatoes

10. Chicken pot pie

9. Bowl of chili (red, green, white or even Cincinnati-style with spaghetti)

8. Steamed Maine lobster

7. Chimichanga (yes, it was invented north of the border, although who was first is still in dispute)

6. Chocolate chip cookies

5. Mac & cheese

4. Shrimp cocktail

3. Southern fried chicken

2. Texas BBQ beef brisket

1. Turkey & dressing

...

(keep scrolling....)

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(a little further...)

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(almost there...)

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(patience...)







0. The hamburger (had to include it -- it's my favorite)

Chopping block...

Sometimes, the only thing to do is to escape to the kitchen, pick up a knife and get to work.

No matter what kind of day I'm having, holding that knife makes everything (and sometimes everyone) else disappear. Who wants to come into the kitchen with a mad woman wielding a knife?

There is something therapeutic about slicing mushrooms, an onion, or any other vegetable. I am at home in the kitchen.

Peace comes with the simple motion of rocking a knife to and fro on a wooden cutting board. The sun streams through the big picture window above the sink, casting a warm glow over the board, my hand and my knife.

Others might run a warm bubble bath to erase the stress of the day. I pick up a MAC Santoku.

Fish Lips...

Rearranging books on my shelf to make room for another, I pulled out a small, red, hardcover book called The Fine Art of Chinese Cooking, by Lee Su Jan. It was published in 1962, or that's what I'm guessing from the MCMLXII stamp near the copyright symbol.

Flipping through the book, I stopped on page 154. Fish Lips.

The ingredient list calls for 1/2 pound of treated fish lips. The first line under method says: soak fish lips for seven days, changing water daily.

Now, where does one get fish lips? What kind of fish have lips luscious enough for stewing?

The recipe also calls for chicken breasts and ham, part of the stewing mixture, but before the dish is served, the chicken and ham are discarded. Fascinating.

A bit of research tells me that groupers have fleshy lips, and are dried for preserving, hence the need for soaking for seven days to rehydrate. I also stumbled upon a recipe for fish maw. Maw is another word for bladder. I put the book back on the shelf.

Circle of life...

I feel horribly guilty. Look at the simplistic beauty of these quail eggs. Now they're gone.

I've deprived the bull and rattlesnakes the pleasure of discovering these tasty morsels.

Actually, I made Jeff remove them. I was going to, but he happen to come home at the most opportune time. Finding me in tears, holding a plastic bag and glove, he asked what was wrong.

I led him to the side yard, where moments before I had lifted the metal washtub that blew over weeks ago. I had thought to myself as I was returning from dumping the trash that the overturned tub could easily be a hiding place for a snake.

We have lots of snakes. I know they are part of the circle of life, going about their business as they are genetically programmed to do, keeping rats and other varmints at bay.

I also know they love quail eggs. Must taste like caviar. So, the eggs must go.

I can't have snakes slithering through my yard because I have puppies that chase anything that moves, including their shadow.

Now I feel horribly guilty. Should I have saved them for breakfast, so at least their brief existence wasn't in vain? I don't even know if I can harvest them. Can I?

Later today, as I walk Skylar and Chloe, I'll turn my head the other way when I pass by the quail couples scurrying about. And, I'll probably cry. Again.

For a song...

Warning! This is not a food post. Proceed with caution...

Meet Skyclo. Skyclo is the ultimate, low maintenance pet.

More expensive than a chia pet, but so much more appealing.

We picked up Skyclo for a song (the Beatles complete anthology, for price reference.)

Kidding, but still, Skyclo wasn't cheap.

I was lingering a bit too long over the little guy and the boutique shop girl came over to ask if I was interested in buying him.

Me: "How much?"

Her: "$5."

Me: "Five bucks??!!"

Her: "Uh, no. $500.00"

Me: "Holy @#$%!"

And then I walk away, dazed and confused. I look around the adorable little dog shop on Main Street in Park City, thinking I should trade in my chef's knife for a hunk of clay.

A couple minutes later, shop girl says, "My boss really wants to move these things, so I can offer you a deal on the little Westie." Really, I say, looking around at approximately 30 other dog breeds sitting on shelves.

I spot the hairless dog. Funny, it's the only ceramic sculpture with hair. A little tuft protruding from his little skull.

"How does $300.00 sound?" she twerps. Uh, no, I say, although I am beginning to realize that these are really works of art.

"OK! $200.00. That's as low as I can go," she says. SOLD! I say. And that's how we acquired our third dog. We named him Skyclo, after our other two, um, more vocal Westies: Sklyar and Chloe.

A couple days later, I wandered back to the pet boutique, only to discover that it had closed. I forgot to get information about the artist, and after an exhaustive internet search (5 minutes), I can't seem to find anything about this artist, so I can't point you in the right direction in case you were interested in having one of your own.

$200.00 isn't cheap, I know, and my friends have laughed at me for spending that much, but it is still cheaper than having a real dog. I know because I still have two. Now, if I can just get them all three to sit together for a family portrait.

Word Game....

It started with a simple tweet request from the Smittenkitchen, (one of my favorite food blogs because Deb's voice is snappy, her pictures are outrageously gorgeous and she's one of a handful of very, very successful food bloggers - which is why she's listed over there on the right under Best Food Blogs).

She asked "Grammar nuts, I need your help: Corn bread is one word or two? I see it both ways but I'm not sure which is right.Thanks!"

I took the challenge and did a little research from my fairly extensive resource library (over my shoulder in my home office). I first consulted my go-to guide, Webster's New World Dictionary of Culinary Arts (full disclosure: I'm very good friends with one of the co-authors.) Corn bread is two words, according to this resource guide.

Next, I looked at the Recipe Writer's Handbook (Revised and Expanded) by Ostmann and Baker. There, on page 169, in the chapter of preferred spellings of commonly used food words, is corn bread. Two words. The introduction to the chapter does say that many of these words have more than one spelling and once you decide on the spelling you want to use, stick with it. Consistency trumps absolutes.

Then I checked the Association of Food Journalists Foodspell: A Guide to Style & Spelling for Food Terms, Both Common & Exotic. It, too, listed corn bread as two words. I was beginning to feel pretty confident that corn bread is two words, not one.

That same afternoon, my newest food reference book arrived (I collect them like some people collect ceramic frogs). The Oxford Companion to American Food and Drink, edited by Andy Smith, weighs in at nearly five pounds, so it's sort of a combination reference book/barbell. Lo and behold, I encounter my first cornbread reference. Huh.

And then I searched my own blog, and found that I've mentioned cornbread -- twice. One word, yet here I was making a case for corn bread. Go figure.

In the meantime, I see that SmittenKitchen has posted about cornbread -- one word. Deb's reference source was the late, great, Sharon Tyler Herbst's Food Lover's Companion. And even my standard desk top dictionary, the New College Edition The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language, on page 297, says "corn bread" followed by "Also cornbread."

So there you have it. Corn bread is definitively spelled corn bread. Or, cornbread.

Corned Beef and Cabbage Soup

If I had known just how easy corned beef and cabbage was to make all along, I would have made it every St. Patrick's Day, and probably a few more times throughout year.

I never connected that this Irish dish was nothing more than a simple pot roast, only made with a brisket injected with a spiced salt brine.


Originally, I had planned to put the pot in the oven, but then my oven died, or so I thought. (As an aside,the oven miraculously resurrected herself and the service man I called out thinks I'm nuts.)

So I finished it on top of the stove, which is a bit more traditional. I also threw everything into the pot at once, but after the three hours it took to cook the beef to tender, the vegetables cooked to mush, so next time, I'll cook the beef for about an hour and a half, and then put the vegetables in.

The other "revelation" is that leftover corned beef and cabbage turns into a lovely soup. I knew the leftover beef could be used for Ruben sandwiches and corned beef hash, but I wasn't sure what to do with a mountain of leftover mushy vegetables. They tasted wonderful from cooking with the spiced corned beef, but the texture was too akin to baby food.

So I put the vegetables in a pot, covered them with low sodium chicken stock and eventually pureed the whole thing with some canned chick peas for thickness. I chopped some of the beef to add as a garnish, and voila! Corned beef and cabbage soup.

West of Western Wrap-Up

Thirty restaurants, more than 100 wines, two sun-soaked afternoons and I'm toast.

I'm talking about the West of Western Culinary Festival that took place this past weekend at the Phoenix Art Museum.

Other food writers are going to give you more details about the specifics -- which chef did what dish -- in greater detail than I will. (Coming soon, entertaining wrap-ups from Howard Seftel from The Arizona Republic, Carey Sweet in the Scottsdale Republic, and Jess Harter's already posted his East Valley Tribune summary).

But I do have a couple of observations that I'd like to add.

First, if you are a restaurant junkie, this festival needs to be on your schedule for next year. West of Western attracts some (I'm wondering why not all) of the top tables in town.

It also showcases the talent behind some of the top hotel and resort restaurants: the Four Seasons, the Phoenician, Wild Horse Pass (restaurant Kai, the only Mobil 5-star restaurant in Arizona), The Wyndham (we have a Wyndham?) and the Sheraton downtown, the Fairmont Scottsdale, two Marriotts (Camelback Inn and JW Marriott at Desert Ridge, the new Montelucia Resort, the Pointe Hilton at Tapatio Cliffs, and even La Posada in Winslow.

Noticeably missing were Binkley's (and Cafe Bink), Los Sombreros, Barrio Cafe, Tonto Bar & Grill and Cartwright's, Lon's at the Hermosa Inn, the new Mission, Christopher's, Vincent's, Sea Saw, Cowboy Ciao, Digestif (although Chef Curry did a demo), and many more.

Some chefs put more into this festival than others. And the festival goers noticed. (A blob of burrata from Prado? Bland garlic panna cotta that blended into the white plate from the new, hip Posh?)

Some chefs went for shock and awe: Kai handed out four samples, including my favorite, pulled lamb on fry bread with fig and curry "mud", Quiessence dazzled with at least 10 (I lost count). Roka Akor grilled Moroccan spiced lamb chops that perfumed all of central Phoenix and presented elegant butterfish tataki.

Tapino did a different kind of shock: foie gras ice cream float with local Sonora Brewing Co. root beer. There wasn't much of a foie gras taste, but he did get a lot of attention, at least until he ran out before 2 p.m., with still 2 more hours of the festival to go.

But here's the thing, most of the restaurants missed the opportunity to connect with their target market. Sure, they handed out generous samples, but very few took advantage of their captive audience by marketing their restaurants. They could have been handing out critical information.

If I were a restaurant giving away that much free food, I'd also create a small flyer with what the dish was (so the customer could remember it later, because frankly, after eating thirty samples, who can remember what? Who did that delicious seared scallop atop mushroom cream, or the cocoa nib dusted scallop, or the scallop on top of the farro salad and wasn't there one more scallop dish --all on Saturday?)

The flyer needs a few other things, too, perhaps a few key menu items on it, maybe tout a fabulous happy hour or at the very least, promote the restaurant's website. SOMETHING.

Huge kudos to the organizers and volunteers are in order as the festival ran as smooth as the Ecuadorian chocolate pudding from Kai. The boy scout volunteers kept the trash empty and the festival staff kept the water tubs full. Cooking demonstrations, culinary lectures and short food-focused films gave eaters a chance to take a break, clear out some tummy room before heading back through the gastro gaunlet.

All in all, the festival was fabulous -- again. I know that as I took each sample, I made sure I asked what it was, and then I thanked the chef for being there, making the festival worth the ticket price. Even though I'm pointing out some shortcomings of some chefs, I so appreciate them coming and feeding us, giving us a glimpse into their fascinating world of creativity.

Because, at the end of the day, I am a restaurant junkie, just like all the other festival goers.

Palatte becomes blank canvas...

When I read on Chow Bella this week that the adorable, quirky Palatte restaurant was closing, my heart sank a bit -- I loved that restaurant.

Chow Bella reports that the 4th Avenue and Filmore Street breakfast/lunch spot "got an offer they couldn't refuse." That's the good news. The bad news is we lost gem.

I penned a review for AZ Central.com a few months after they opened in 2007, in which I opened with:

"I'm quite certain that no matter what I write in this review, the newly opened Palatte in the historic Cavness house...will be crazy busy for a long time to come."

That, of course, was well before the economic meltdown last fall. And truth be told, after I wrote the review, I probably only visited Palatte as a regular customer a handful of times, even though it was a favorite.

I'm going to cop out and blame proximity...the restaurant is more than 30 miles from my house. It's got me thinking, though, about some other favorite restaurants of mine, and perhaps I should be a little more diligent in returning to them.

As a foodie, it's easy to get caught up in chasing the next new restaurant. It's kind of like wanting a puppy because it's cute. But eventually the puppy grows up and isn't so cute anymore, but it's still a living, breathing creature and needs love and attention.

Downtown Phoenix is Alive...

Downtown Phoenix was a happening place this past Saturday. I mentioned in a previous post that we were headed to the Downtown Phoenix Public Market for a big announcement. Pamela Hamilton, publisher of Edible Phoenix presented Cindy Gentry, dubbed "Market Mom" by supporters and fans, with the Local Hero non-profit award, saying that the market would be retired to the Local Hero Hall of Fame, after snagging the award for three years in a row. But that wasn't the BIG announcement.

The BIG announcement was a BIG fat check from the Phoenix Industrial Development Authority -- $250,000 to be exact. The money will be used to open the indoor market. The downtown market, celebrating it's fourth anniversary, has been raising money to convert the historic brick building next to the market's parking lot into a year round store, cafe and gathering spot that will operate five days a week, while still holding the outdoor market on Wednesday evenings and Saturday mornings.

The farmers market wasn't the only place to be last Saturday. Just up the road, at the Margaret T. Hance Park behind the library, the fourth annual WorldFEST was happening, an outdoor festival celebrating Phoenix sister cities. Tents featuring the sister cities, including Ennis, Ireland, Taipei, Taiwan and Hermosillo, Mexico, among others, entertained spectators with educational activities for the children and literature about these cities.We scarfed on outrageously delicious barbecue from Big Belly's BBQ, a local caterer. Best dish? The BBQ sundae: a cup of shredded, smoked pork, spicy pinto beans and topped with creamy coleslaw and a drizzle of sweet, tangy BBQ.

Hopping on the light rail down to Washington Street, we found the Firefighter's Chili Cook-Off. How I managed to down a few chili cups after a bowl full of BBQ, I'll never know. As we exited the Chili Cook-Off, we came face to face with a protest march. The "March to Stop the Hate," rally, sponsored by the National Day Laborers was in progress, with thousands of marchers -- young, old, White, Hispanic, Black, and every color in between -- were Marching down Central with banners, mostly calling for the local Sheriff to go. A few Sheriff supporters -- all White from what we could see -- stood on the sidewalks holding we support Joe (the controversial sheriff).

At that moment, I felt really proud to be an American, where we are free to protest if we choose, free to mosey through street fairs and farmers markets. And then this morning, I read that downtown Phoenix is in the process of re-branding itself. The new brand is "Arizona's urban heart." You can feel the heartbeat, whether you're supporting the local firefighters or the downtown farmers market, connecting with sister cities across the globe to celebrate our diversity, or marching in a peaceful protest. Yes, indeed, downtown Phoenix is alive.

Don't eat this at home...

Sometimes you want to root for the home girl.

Last weekend, we went to the Phoenix farmers market (the one downtown). I'd heard that Chef John Sharpe from La Posada in Winslow, AZ (yes, same town as the Eagles crooned something about standing on a corner) was going to be at the market with his new cookbook.

Dang, he had strep throat and couldn't make it.

So we meandered the market anyway. The Tamale Store had printed a huge new banner that had the cover of the March PHOENIX Magazine, and my article about their utterly delicious tamales on full display at their booth. Yeah!, but I'm getting off track here.

Back to rooting for the home girl...I found the coolest candles from Skinny Girl Desserts. Cupcakes, tarts, quick breads...all in candle form (hence the skinny part)... I bought the berry blast (pictured above).

Of course, I'll never get to burn it unless Jeff is out of town (he's not a fan of scented candles, and this one is SO scented...might not ever have to buy air freshener again). Still, I thought the idea was so cute and clever. When I got home, I realized I didn't pick up her business card, or any other information about her. I can't find anything about her on Google either.

I guess I'll have to go back to the market this weekend. And, it's a great weekend to go the market because they're going to make a big announcement as part of their 4th anniversary celebration. Think it has something to do with their new indoor market space. Go to the market this Saturday, and if you can't make it, check back here. I'll post about it.

How'd You Get that Job?

My mouth is wide open, I'm flat on my back and two pairs of hands are inside my mouth. One of those hands is holding a drill. "So," my dentist asks nonchalantly, "How'd you get that job?"

He's referring to the food critic part of my multi-pronged culinary career. Unlike him, I need multiple streams of income to add up to a viable career.

Food writing doesn't pay much. Neither does cookbook authoring, most chef positions and pretty much any singular focused culinary skill. But add them all up, and I can cobble together a decent paycheck. And generally a full tummy.

After my mouth is safe from prying hands, drills and syringes filled with lidocaine, I answer his question: The same way you got your job -- I went to school, studied hard, got a degree, and started applying my craft. Duh!

OK, I didn't say it that directly (I do have to go back to see him, after all) but it struck me as funny that my highly skilled dentist (and he is a specialist, not a general practitioner) was asking me how I scored the enviable job of eating for a living.

Truth is, it's a legitimate question. Most people want to know how the heck you get a food critic position. And the reality is that in these times, anyone can become a food critic. There are TONS of blogs written by people who say they are food critics. (Although, I'm not sure about the guy who wrote "I ate here once and never will return.")

Professional critics don't have the luxury of passing up the second and third visits, no matter how terrible the first visit was. But there is room for all of us -- the professional, the lay person, the kid (did you see the NY Times article about the 12-year old critic?)

Seriously.... we're not talking brain surgery, rocket science, or solving world peace. We're talking about food. If you want to write about food (and get paid for it), start by writing. A blog. An article that you submit to your local publications with a letter of introduction. Just start writing. Oh, and eating. Actually, it's eating, then writing.

Soak it up...

She sits in the window, chin raised, eyes closed, bathing in the warm afternoon sun. Dogs love catching a few rays, but their masters physically need sunshine. Our bodies, the skin in particular, convert ultraviolet rays from the sun into Vitamin D.

Some nutritionists argue that we can't get all the Vitamin D we need from food alone, and supplements aren't absorbed as much as we think they are (and there is such a thing as too much Vitamin D). Food sources for Vitamin D include fatty fishes (like salmon) and fish oils (cod liver oil, anyone?) and many foods are fortified with Vitamin D, like cereals and milk.

Why do we need Vitamin D? Because it is essential for calcium absorption, and we need calcium for strong bones, among other things. Now, I'm not an expert on nutrition, but if I need more Vitamin D in my diet, am I going to take a swig of cod liver oil, or am I going to take a walk in the sunshine? What do you think?

Raw Tuna...

This is either too funny or too sad. I can't figure out which. An article in the paper this morning caught my eye. (Yes, I'm one of six people left in the nation that still reads the news the old-fashioned way -- with a print newspaper.)

The headline said "Tokyo fish market takes licking from silly tourists." Some crazy (and slightly inebriated, according to the article) British tourist was filmed licking the head of a tuna at the famed fish market. Those kooky Brits! As a result, the market was closed for a while to tourists. Hey people, this isn't a freak show -- it's an auction!

Last October, I visited the Honolulu Fish Market auction early one morning as part of a professional culinary tour. We arrived at the market just before 6 a.m. Any later and we would have missed it. The market is located at water's edge, and boats pull up every morning and unload their haul. Tunas, swordfish, skipjacks, dolphinfish (mahi-mahi) and moonfish make up the bulk of the offerings.

It's all very serious business in the bustling, freezing warehouse. Fresh caught fish are sold to the highest bidders. The buyers are chefs and restaurant owners, vying for the best of the catch. Fish are stacked on movable carts and men with rubber boots with pen and paper in hand move up and down the aisles hunched over the fish while an auctioneer sputters bids with rapid succession. As soon as the fish is sold, a tag is slapped on the fish and they move on to the next one. It takes less than a minute to sell a fish -- sometimes less than 30 seconds.

Entrance into this chilly Poseidon tomb is a privilege, and I'm happy to report that our group of chefs, food writers and cookbook authors behaved with the utmost respect for the fishermen, the auction staff and the marine biologist who led our tour. Besides, really, would you want to kiss this?

Making Beer out of Lemons....

Not everyone is letting the economy get them down. In fact, when we ran across this sign in Austin, Texas recently, we thought, "huh, isn't that clever?" Little Woodrow's is known for offering 100 beers, 30 of them on tap.

I never drank beer until college, and even then, I never took a liking to it. Kegs of Bud Light and Coors just don't have much flavor to me. During my beverage classes in culinary school, we took a field trip to a local microbrewery. The Brew Master took us on a tour and then we gathered in a private dining room to sample all of his craft beers.

He described the aroma and flavor notes just like winemakers describe their wines. We picked up on hints of caramel, chocolate, smoke and blackberries. It was a revelation to me that beer could actually have flavor.

Since then, I've studied beer making in more detail. I wrote a story about Arizona's only female brewer, Melissa Osborne, from Four Peaks Brewery. I spent the day with her, watching with fascination, the process of turning grain into brew. It's not a glamorous job. It's heavy lifting mixed with a bit of chemistry and a touch of art.

These days, I'm just as smitten with discovering a local brew as I am discovering a new, boutique wine. Really what I'm saying is that I'm doing my part to help the economy by sampling local beer wherever I happen to be. You should try it, too. Let's all do our part to get this economy moving again, even if it means downing a few brewskies.

Fortunate Cookie...

Fortune says I love words, and I should write a book....in bed. I'm kidding about the bed part. I learned from neighbors years ago, that fortunes from fortune cookies must be completed with the phrase "...in bed." Why? I don't know. Perhaps they are funnier that way.

I kept this fortune because for the first time ever, a fortune cookie had my number. Yes, I love words. And I've already written three books. Maybe I should write another one.

I read a story a while back that said the fortune cookie was an American invention -- not a Chinese one. That figures, doesn't it? Still, I don't think a trip to a Chinese restaurant (in America, of course) is complete without a fortune cookie. Most of the time, the cookie tastes like crunchy cardboard.

Only once did I taste a fortune cookie that made me want to eat the whole thing. It was at Prime Chinese, in Phoenix, off Central and Camelback Road. It was crunchy but in a delicate way. It tasted of almond and egg whites, not the typical pasty taste. Usually, I crack open a fortune cookie, read the inscription...adding the words "...in bed" just so that it's funnier, and then toss the broken cookie back on the table.

But getting this particular fortune in my cookie the other night has me thinking. How does one get a job writing fortunes? Now that sounds like a fun job, don't you think? Next Monday, January 26, is the Chinese New Year -- the year of the OX. Go out and celebrate, and grab a cookie on your way out. It might just have your number.

Pull up a chair...

Other than browsing cooking stores and grocery stores, moseying around a bookstore is one of my favorite pastimes. I don't mind hanging out in the major chain bookstores (Borders or Barnes & Noble) but I prefer independent bookstores.

Knowing what I do about the publishing world, I have a keen sense of appreciation for what it takes to own and operate a bookstore. It's tough. Whenever I travel, in addition to seeking out the coolest restaurants, cooking stores and grocery stores, I look for the independent bookstore.

Near downtown Austin is a fabulous, funky independent bookstore called Bookpeople. It is one of the largest independent bookstores I've seen, almost twice as big as our Tempe, Arizona independent gem, Changing Hands.

What struck me as cool about Bookpeople was their merchandising. Sale books are up front. Walking in the front door, you can't miss the mothership of an information desk, manned with helpful, smiling employees. Yes! Smiling! Imagine that!

The two-story store is obviously about books, but they also carry a wide variety of gifts -- bags, pens, stationary, cooking utensils -- in the cookbook section, of course. I was amazed at the variety and depth of non-book products. The magazine section was also one of the largest I've ever seen.

Returning from the bathroom, I found this antique barber chair tucked in a corner. It was occupied most of the time we were browsing the store, but just before we left, I dashed back upstairs and it was empty so I snapped a picture. Clever. Unique. Just like the rest of the store.

Check Please!

Did you know that there are 27 steps to fine dining? I didn't either, until I went to culinary school. One of my classes was restaurant management, and as part of the class, we waited tables in the school's fine dining restaurant, while our sister class played chefs in the kitchen.

Now, 27 steps might seem excessive...you think? It is. But interestingly, we were told that the most important step (I think it was step 23) was picking up payment for the check. That makes total sense. If you're running a restaurant, the most important step is getting the money, right?

It's important to the customer, too, because once they throw money down, they want to wrap up the meal and be on their way. Or even if they want to linger a bit, getting the check out of the way is good for the guest and the server. It doesn't let the server off the hook in terms of making sure your needs are still met -- more water or coffee or tea?

Even casual restaurants need a certain amount of dining steps. Twenty-seven is overkill in my opinion, even at a fine dining restaurant, but taking care of the check is important no matter what kind of restaurant it is.