In wine, as in coffee, we can talk about the soil and growing conditions of the grapes or beans and how that affects the end product. But with biscuits, there are so many variables–the butter, the flour, the baking powder and the buttermilk–you can’t explicitly tie the biscuits to a place. For all you know that baking powder came from Newark, New Jersey.
It’s a bird! It’s a plane! No it’s me, The Amateur Gourmet, blogging to you live from Delta flight 2243, en route to Atlanta, Georgia.
Yes, this is an absolute first for me, my first blog post written from a plane. And I choose, as my subject matter, a dessert that I made back in December, before it got wicked cold out. And it’s a cold dessert so you might be thinking: why would we eat something from the freezer when it’s 0 degrees on the thermometer? Patience, people, I have my reasons.
You may remember May 12, 2009 as the day in history when I served cheese for dinner. I wrote a post about it called Cheese For Dinner and 47 of you left comments because you were so shocked and disturbed by the idea. Cheese for dinner? How can you eat cheese for dinner?
Actually, most of you had the opposite reaction. “I love cheese for dinner!” one of you wrote. So, last week, traipsing through Murray’s Cheese on my way back to the apartment I decided to revisit the concept. I picked up two kinds of cheese, a box of salad greens and a pear from the bodega close by and prepared myself for the return, the return of CHEESE FOR DINNER.
There are three experiences I forgot to tell you about from my trip to the Pacific Northwest this year. The first experience happened on a morning in West Seattle (I’d written “East Seattle” and then Craig corrected me) with our friends David and Celia and their new baby, Johanna. Early in the morning, before my appointment with a chef at 9 AM, we all had breakfast at The Salvadorean Bakery.
This weekend on Facebook, my friend Molly wrote that she was “constitutionally incapable of making a decent cup of coffee.”
I related to this because, for the past few years, I had the same problem. The lowest moment came when, upon grinding my own beans, I overdid it, clogged my coffee maker and a black sand volcano erupted all over my countertop, ruining the machine and my self-confidence too. But now I make a great cup of coffee and my secret has more to do with ignoring, not following, the Good Coffee-Making Rules.
It’s been seven years exactly since I wrote my very first post on this blog. Usually, when an anniversary comes along, I use the opportunity to share my favorite posts from the archives. But this time I’d like to turn the tables…I’d like to learn all about you nice people who read this blog everyday. So, in the comments, tell me: What’s your name? Where are you from? What did you have for breakfast? How long have you been reading The A.G.? Do you remember how you found it? What’s been your favorite post? What’s something you’d like me to blog about over the next seven years?
Thanks for being such loyal, dedicated readers. If it weren’t for your reading/commenting, I wouldn’t have made it this far. Here’s to another seven!