OVEN of my dreams

Sometimes you have to follow where your errant dreams lead. Even if you have no idea what you're doing. This oven is a point in case. I planned to have it done by the New Year to put in the new book, due imminently. I still don't know if it will work, but I will share some photos nonetheless. First is a form made out of eathenware clay on a mound of wet sand.

Then it was cut into blocks, about 150 of them, and fired in my electric kiln. I know I could have fired them in place with wood, but I wanted to make life difficult. Then I put them all back together - harder than I thought. What posessed me to use some Greek letters I'll never know. Is it Phi Xi Psi? They wouldn't go back together without mortar and putting the sand back in the empty space. A few gaps, I hope don't structurally compromise the whole.

And then I just covered it all with stucco, hoping nothing falls out of place when I remove the sand. The bricks are just to hold up the arch on the opening. There's a little chimney at back too. Otherwise nothing much to it. I'll give you the specs in The Lost Arts of Hearth and Home. Cost me about 150 bucks. Not an earth oven, nor a 10,000 dollar commercial pizza oven. MY fingers are so crossed. Please cross yours too. And HAVE a HAPPY NUDE YEAR!!

Flameware

I know this is not food, but closely connected to it. A few weeks ago I spotted flameware clay in Berkeley, make by the same company that makes by regular 50/50 mix. They offered me a "rusty skillet" glaze too. It's a cone 8 clay, so St. Theresa (the kiln) really had to work hard to get this up to temperature, but as you can see, it is very pleasant in color and texture. More importantly, in case you don't understand what this stuff is - a stoneware that goes right on the stove top. (Not soft earthenware, which chips and scratches.) So for the trial run there's a chicken and vegetables simmering in the olla. Broccoli rabe in the cassola. The pipkin is untested, as is a bigger pentola still unfired. Oh and the little butter melting cup up front. Despite the fact that it's 30 bucks for a 25 lb. bag, I think this set was worth it. Well done Leslie's and IMCO.

Robert May and Brian May

Have you ever noticed how Brian May, Queen guitarist, has a decidedly 17th century hairdo? Much like that of Robert May, celebrated 17th century cookbook author? Hmm. Did you also realize that May lived in the age of Hooke and Boyle, the birth of Astrophysics and other May has a PhD in the same subject? Hmm. There must be more. Well I was feeling in a Baroque mood today. This recipe is not exactly in May, but it could easily have been. It is 2 lbs of pork shoulder very finely chopped, with chopped apricots, dates, raisins, walnuts, pistachioes, candied citron, angelica root, sugar with ambergris, musk, all soaked in Batavia Arrack and spiced with nutmeg, cinnamon, cloves, ginger, pepper. That went into a crust of mangalitsa leaf lard, sprinkled with coarse sugar. I'm hoping it will slide out and be sliced vertically. We shall see tonight.

Vinegar Hoax

This morning I was moving some of my vinegar from a big crock into smaller bottles and I thought I'd play around with making shrub. This is a delightfully refreshing, very 18th century drink made of vinegar, sometimes fruit flavored and sugar. You mix it with cold water and drink in the summer. My vinegar is obscenely sour and I noticed that after adding a little sugar it mellowed. Then I added some sapa, cooked down grape must I made a few years ago, to give it some thickness and depth. As I was doing this I noticed a bottle of balsamic vinegar, which my wife buys from Trader Joes. I know very well you can't buy real balsamic vinegar for 5 bucks, though the label here does fake it: from Modena and I.G.P. which is an indication of protected geographical origin. Which means part of it must be made somewhere near Modena. But here's the best part. I tasted it side my side with my sweetened musted vinegar and they are absolutely indistinguishable. I guess I should take that as an insult to my shrub, huh?

Interview

http://www.heritageradionetwork.com/episodes/2112-A-Taste-of-the-Past-Episode-83-The-Lost-Art-of-Real-Cooking

Here's a really fun interview with Linda Pellacio.

Stupid Arbitrary Rules

Have you noticed how the world is filled with stupid arbitrary rules? I don't mean practical moral precepts, which are eminently useful. I'm talking about things people tell you to do which serve no purpose whatsoever. Cooking is rife with examples. People do things one way, it gets repeated a million times, then everyone thinks it's inviolable law. Perhaps no other food is so subject to the whim of arbitrary rules than beans. I've written some of these stupid rules myself. And this story just goes to show, such rules were meant to be broken. I got home last night with this brand new iron olla from The Spanish Table, and wanted to try it out so badly, that I just chucked in some dry red beans, water, salt, and a touch of oregano, and threw it on the fire. Not this fire, I mean in the fireplace fire. And left it there, until morning. Reheated it up and the beans were perfect, intact, and yet cooked through. Succulent, perfectly seasoned. And broke every rule about how beans ought to be cooked. Let me know if you have a similar rule-breaking story.