Cleaning Out the Spice Rack

Letting go of spices, for me, is like letting go of a relationship that’s past its prime. Every time I use the spice I think “This could be better, it’s gotten stale. I really should toss it and begin again.” But instead, I just put it back in the cabinet. In the chaos of dinner preparation, I never remember to write down what I will need at the time. While I remember the staples compiling my grocery list later on, I have some kind of mental block against actually remembering to pick up a spice that should be replaced, but that we’re not actually out of. My husband does remember, buys new stuff and sticks it in the front. But he doesn’t throw out the old stuff. And so, the old spices languish beside their new brethren.
Sometimes I don’t throw them away because I get sentimental. (That’s right. Don’t judge me.) I have the cheesiest looking curry container. I got the stuff at a flea market, in one of those massive bins. I was poor, the plastic spice bottle was large and it was only one dollar. I used to sprinkle it over popcorn in the dorm. I still can’t bring myself to toss it. When I look at the cartoon palm tree and sunset, it somehow ends up right back in the cabinet. I don’t cry or anything. I just can’t throw it away.

Dish Update

Inside the old Heartworks in 5 Points is the new Scribes Café (820 Lomax Street 904- 738-7999). It’s run by the parent company of Heartworks. Scribes serves sandwiches and coffee, has high speed internet access and is open till midnight. According to their website: “Each table provides a private setting where a writing pad and pen are available for your thoughts and notes.” They now serve a variety of non-vegetarian stuff, such as their corned beef Ruben.
Anyone can walk in and nosh on their usual offerings as they surf the net, but you can also get a full-scale dinner there, cooked just for you (and a few of your friends), by reserving their private rear dining room. You can have up to a dozen people and you’ll need to arrange the meal in advance. They ask that you reserve at least three week in advance, because they get booked quickly. A deposit of 20% is required at time of reservation confirmation.

While you can find wine tastings and wine dinners all over the First Coast area, you won’t often find a tequila tasting. Cantina Laredo (10282 Bistro St. 904-997-6110) will be holding a tequila dinner on March 20th. Expect a four course meal, each paired with a tequila beverage. You’ll get an education in the history of tequila and what to look for as you taste it.

Vegan, Really Good!

I know there are a lot of people who live the vegetarian or vegan lifestyle and find it hard to have options when they go out to eat.

So here's a link to my review of Present Moment Café, a Raw Food Vegan place in St. Augustine, which is fantastic!

http://www.eujacksonville.com/pages/10-4-07/presentmomentcafe.htm

I would love for a place like this to open up in Jacksonville. Even the non-veggies (at least the ones that aren't freaked out by creative dishes) will love the stuff at Present Moment. The juice bar alone makes it worthwhile.

Here's a link to a great site with info on the Raw lifestyle and Raw

Restaurants, with plenty of beautiful pictures of what a well-prepared Raw dish can look like.

http://www.rawchef.com/index.php

This site will get you a respectable list of Raw Food recipes.

http://www.living-foods.com/recipes

Every Chip is a Gift from God! Or-- If it’s not Fabulous don’t put it in your mouth!

I'm an omnivore, which means, like a raccoon, I'll eat just about anything, provided I can open the damn package.

But, as someone who loves to savor things, I've come to a certain Food Philosophy that can be applied to other things in life.

If it isn't fabulous don't put it in your mouth.

Reject the mediocre in favor of an exalted experience.

We have to eat. It's required.

Therefore, wouldn't life be more pleasant if everything you ate were fabulous? So, don't bother eating things you don't absolutely love.

I also think you should be "present" every moment that you eat. Each bite of everything should be Experienced as totally and fully as possible. None of that gazing into the TV as you munch on chips.

Every Chip is a Gift from God in all its Fat Saturated Glory.

Paying attention to what you're eating not only increases your pleasure factor, it will also mean that eat more slowly and that you may, in fact eat less and get full faster.

Or that could be bullsh*t because I want the rest of the world to gain about ten pounds, skewing the average, thereby saving me from countless hours at the gym.

Whatever the case, you'll certainly have more fun in life if you cut out the things that aren't adding to the experience of personal satisfaction and pleasure.

Food and Memory

My next review is going to be for Columbia in St. Augustine. I'll post pics here soon, once I rifle through all my shots. I just have to say that I adore this place. I might be prejudiced because it's a sentimental thing. Foods and smells always have the biggest pull on a person when they remind you of something good. If it's something you used to eat at the kitchen counter as a kid, you're going to be as lost in the memory of that as you will be in the food.

That's what delights me about Columbia. It brings back memories of my childhood in Miami. My Peruvian baby-sitter Rosa used to feed me Pigeon peas and all sorts Spanish type dishes. I remember the Cuban bakery right next to the Hialeah apartment we lived in till I was five.

The thing I always look forward to at the Columbia is the Cuban bread. This ain't no pansy Publix version of Cuban bread, wherein they take the exact same dough they use for French bread and shape into a Cuban bread shape. Maybe Publix stopped doing this, but I stopped buying their Cuban bread so long ago because of this, therefore I have no idea if they still do that. They use the same or similar dough for just about everything. It's a base I guess. I still buy their French bread but then, I've never been to France and it's likely that I've never had the real deal.

If you're not willing to pay over $20 per entree, head over to the Columbia for lunch. It's got a nifty atmo. And, they've got parking on Spanish Street in Historic St. Aug. The restaurant has lots of natural light, lots of white arches, pseudo-Spanish architecture and a courtyard (which is not recommended in this heat). The Cuban Sandwich they serve at lunch is the real thing--God love 'em.

b.b.'s Pictures

Sometimes a picture is worth a thousand words. These are pictures I took at b.b.'s in the San Marco area of Jacksonville.

Salt

Salt might seem like a weird subject to write about, but author Mark Kurlansky makes it interesting. he put out a book in 2002 called Salt: A World History. Anyone who likes historical minutiae or loves knowing about food history will dig it.

Salt sits on every restaurant table today, but in bygone times it was tremendously valued. Like any substance that humanity places a value on, it has its own mythos and customs. People have sweated and died for the stuff. Wars have been fought for the sake of salt. Probably more blood has been split over salt than any other substance, even oil, which is relatively young as a substance of value.

Salt has so many uses and so rich a history that it has been a symbol for many things, often at cross purposes: for sexuality as well as for purity. The author of this magnificent and well researched book speaks salt in fairy-tales, of industries dependent on salt and salt's preservative powers. It's not hard to see the grandeur of salt when Kurlansky writes of it, as it preserved the Egyptian dead and raised empires.

But here's a taste, just the first section of his intro:

"I BOUGHT THE rock in Spanish Catalonia, in the rundown hillside mining town of Cardona. An irregular pink trapezoid with elongated, curved indentations etched on its surface by raindrops, it had an odd translucence and appeared to be a cross between rose quartz and soap. The resemblance to soap came from the fact that it dissolved in water and its edges were worn smooth like a used soap bar.

I paid too much for it -- nearly fifteen dollars. But it was, after all, despite a rosy blush of magnesium, almost pure salt, a piece of the famous salt mountain of Cardona. The various families that had occupied the castle atop the next mountain had garnered centuries of wealth from such rock.

I took it home and kept it on a windowsill. One day it got rained on, and white salt crystals started appearing on the pink. My rock was starting to look like salt, which would ruin its mystique. So I rinsed off the crystals with water. Then I spent fifteen minutes carefully patting the rock dry. By the next day it was sitting in a puddle of brine that had leached out of the rock. The sun hit the puddle of clear water. After a few hours, square white crystals began to appear in the puddle. Solar evaporation was turning brine into salt crystals.

For a while it seemed I had a magical stone that would perpetually produce brine puddles. Yet the rock never seemed to get smaller. Sometimes in dry weather it would appear to completely dry out, but on a humid day, a puddle would again appear under it. I decided I could dry out the rock by baking it in a small toaster oven. Within a half hour white stalactites were drooping from the toaster grill. I left the rock on a steel radiator cover, but the brine threatened to corrode the metal. So I transferred it to a small copper tray. A green crust formed on the bottom, and when I rubbed off the discoloration, I found the copper had been polished.

My rock lived by its own rules. When friends stopped by, I told them the rock was salt, and they would delicately lick a corner and verify that it tasted just like salt.

Those who think a fascination with salt is a bizarre obsession have simply never owned a rock like this."