Food Culture of Pets

I got to thinking just now, after reading a little facebook message from Warren Belasco about how his pets might influence his writing habits. Interesting idea. Sure, typing accidents. Random inspiration. Then I came home. Sadie asked me for dried Japanese Cuttle Fish. Seriously. She asks for it in Japanese. Since I don't speak Japanese I assume she's saying it correctly. Mi'aou-ah. I shared.


But this then got me seriously thinking. This here is Ray Bolger. When he was a kitten, he looked just like the Scarecrow, danced well too. He came into my house, started eating then and hasn't stopped since. But take a look at what this beast is doing.

He actually scoops his food from the bowl. Messily, we admit, but usually lands it right into the water bowl. Leaves it there for about 10 seconds, decides that it's soaked enough, and deftly scoops it out with his paw and puts it daintily in his mouth.

Unlike the other cats, he eats nothing but this. And has a such a strange ritual that no one could possibly have taught him, I think we should seriously be thinking about food culture beyond the parameters of our own species. Obviously, he shares this with no one, but decided on his own weird preference, and insists on dunking. And has become masterful at it. Don't you find this perplexingly thought-provoking? We assume society gives us our eating habits, but here is something he shares with no other cat or human in the house, and figured it out on his own.

Capirotada

I'm currently writing a paper for the Renaissance Society conference next week about 3 cookbooks from the 1540s and the mutual influence among Italy, France and England. Anyway, I came aross this recipe that appears virtually the same in two of them called variously soupe capilorde or suppa di capirotta. Both are ultimately versions of an older Spanish dish called Capirotada. But it just dawned on me as I was writing that this is a version of the souped up (literally) grilled cheese ideas that have been floating around lately among food bloggers. Except this one is literally floating around.


Just try to imagine this. Roasted capon breast taken off the bone and shredded. Think leftover chicken here. Then take slices of good toast and fry them until crisp and brown. Then take a bowl and put down a "sop" of the bread, cover with some chicken, some cheese and a whole mess of spices. Especially cinnamon, some sugar and ginger. More IS better. And make layer after layer of these ingedients. Then pour good broth over it into the bowl. A floating chicken grilled cheese sandwich. I think I may just have to make this tonight.


Oh, and if you're wondering, yes, it's descendant is the capirotada of Mexico, a sweet cheesy bread pudding. And incidentally I have seen baroque recipes for this that are also then baked so the cheese all melts and the bread really soaks it up, and then it's garnished with cockscombs, testicles, circles of marrow, ambergris, gooseberries.


"Lambs and slothes and carp and fruitbats and orangutans and breakfast cereals.... skip a bit brother." Who can name the source of that feast?

Dumpling

There are some words which should just be stricken from the English language. This one tops my list. Conjure the image now. There is someone squatting over the stockpot while it gently simmers. Little dumps. Float to the top, and they're ready.


So, I propose, as with so many other words, that we invent them anew. Borrowing from other languages if necessary. The Dutch in this instance could lend us the word turdkin. Isn't that cute? Or the French with a hearty crapette. Deux crapettes sur la plate, avec du beurre et persillade. Doesn't that sound savory? Or why not the Italians who give us parmesan-laced poopini. I can see them now in the refrigerator section of your favorite grocery. Poopini Puttanesca. Or how about German Scheißbollchen mit Speck und Kraut. Now if I could remember the dimuntive in Russian correctly.... Шицники (Shitsniki)?

Someone help me here.

This little piggie went to market

Ave porcina, herbarum plena, cocta pro nobis!

How this came to pass I can't quite say. Christine asks if I'd like to cook, and next thing I know there a little piggie in the backyard, with the sweetest face. Christine tells me the farm was lovely and the pigs ran around very happily.

Alas, she did not fit on my spit, and too long for the fireplace. Nor was there enough time to dig a pit. So it had to be the oven. And she filled the entire space. Not so little of piggie, over 30 pounds!

I marinated her in lime, chilies, onion, cilantro and cumin. And a beer. Then just popped her in the oven for about 4 hours. And the flavor was truly surprising. Delicate, light. More like turkey than any pork I've tasted. Good, unctuous and moist turkey. But definitely a white meat. The skin was crackly too, yummy crunchy ears, and I even got some tail.

And the company, as always, marvellous. The Hoodies polished off maybe half. Any ideas for leftovers? I wonder if the head can be made into testa after roasting.

Canapes

I think canapes are utterly underrated. A variety of savories such as these could make up a whole meal. These are crispy squares of polenta, with sauteed broccoli rabe (my favorite vegetable), grated parmiggiano topped with freshly smoked scallops. Worked very nicely because just the right combination of crisp and toothsome and chewy. And just a few bites in each.

It was the starter to a meal that got a bit out of hand, not in terms of taste, but in time spent in the kitchen. It was worth it. A whole wheat and flax seed bread, a roasted veg medley of parsnips, yellow beets, fennel and shallots. And a bizarre chicken experiment that tasted utterly luscious, but didn't quite look as I wanted it yet. Basically it was two chickens skinned, then completely boned, the meat seasoned and rewrapped in the skins so it looks like one chicken, but is solid and boneless. It was really bizarre cutting through actually. Oh, and the bones were made into a nice stock. It's the solution for how to get everything out a chicken at once. The only problem thus far is without bones it has no internal structure to keep it chicken shaped. So it looked like a flattened chicken. With 4 wings!

Then to top it off our friends brought 9, yes 9, ducks. Tiny little things. Which I hacked Chinese style across the breast with the bone in, into 3 or 4 pieces, and threw on the fire, a few others into a pot to see what would happen. Actually I think they all over cooked a bit. Tought and a little livery. But I have two left. If anyone has experience cooking a teeny wild duck, please let me know. I'm assuming it really should be very rare, but I've never cooked wild ducks before.

A lovely apple pie to end. Whole wheat pastry flour crust, green pippins with cranberries and walnuts. It was fab. And now I'm exhausted.

Enchilada Man

For Christmas, I became a superhero. This was illustrated by my neighbor Paul, the story taken directly from an enchilada post here, back in February. If I can figure out a way to scan it all properly, I'll put it up. But meanwhile I like this last one especially.

Bear Butt

It is such a long story, but behold the glorious roasted rear end of a bear. She was quite small and had a very sweet face. I had the chance to pet her head, albeit frozen. This rear thigh, which I sawed off from the lower leg, turned out to be seriously tasty. I thought, actually my co-author Rosanna and I thought, the simplest roasting on a bed of vegetables would be best. The flesh was a bit tough, but tasty. The accretions of fat, however, which I suppose were laid on in expectation of hibernation, were so incredibly flavorful, unctuous, and sweet, that they were dizzying. I wish I had rendered some on its own for pemmican. In any case, bear is really nothing like venison or other wild beasts, because it is truly greasy, in the best way imaginable. Sides of mashed sweet potato and brussels sprouts cut from the stalk, such opulence! Does it get more exciting than this???