Sous Vide, & Why You Don't Need to Try This at Home

Sous vide keeps cropping up on TV shows like Top Chef and Iron Chef as a cooking method. It may seem exotic and new, but in fact it's been around since the 70's.

Sous vide literally means, from the French, "under vacuum". The process, in a nut shell, involves vacuum packing raw food in plastic, then submerging the bags in a circulating, temperature-controlled water bath that brings food to temperature slowly.

Chefs like sous vide because it produces textures and flavor that can't be achieved using direct heat. According to Harold McGee, cooking at low temperature for long periods of time breaks down whatever you're cooking to produce tenderness without the usual side effects of high temperature cooking, most importantly, drying and changes in flavor. Some meats need to be cooked for over 24 hours "sous vide" to achieve this effect.

Low temperatures and long cooking times may seem like a party for germs, but since the ingredients are sealed in plastic under vacuum, aerobic bacteria can't grow. But anaerobic bacteria (botulism bacteria) can. So it's critical to maintain precise temperatures that kill them off.

The high risk of bacterial contamination means sous vide shouldn't be attempted at home without proper vacuum sealing equipment and a professional circulating, heated water bath. Let's face it, how many times do you come home from a hard day of work craving a sous vide foie gras?

An Open Letter to Bon Appetit

Dear Bon Appetit,

You were always the slightly too precious one showing up in my mailbox every month, with your muffin basket aesthetic and heavily sauced prose. But I knew that about you, and I looked past your affectations for ideas. Presentation ideas. Ingredient ideas. I'm happy you want to cast off that tired image, but I think the baby and the bathwater may be traveling as a couple right now. Month after month since you've changed, I've been considering your new you, and so here are my thoughts.

First, a magazine is not a website. Seems like an obvious point. But how else to explain why you've adopted these overbearing teardrop and slash motifs throughout your pages? Unlike a website, where visual cues help you keep the site "tree" in your head, magazines don't have that problem to solve. That's the beauty of magazines. They're not linked: you just keep turning pages, and eventually you'll run out. So I don't need those teardrop tokens like a breadcrumb trail to help me find my way...I already know where I'm going (to the next page).

Second, let's talk about the new look of your pictures. I admit that food photograhy often suffers from being overly shiny, posed and polished, but it should at least pique your imagination if not make you downright hungry. But food photography shouldn't just be food porn, made to be consumed only by the eye. There should be information packed in. Like how to present ingredients elegantly.

I've noticed recently you're trying for more graphic, bolder food styling and photos. But making plates of food into decomposed, two-dimensional color smears isn't working. These types of images may look good when I squint hard at their high contrast, over saturated flatness, but when I look carefully they look like someone vomited on the plate, however artfully. I would never arrange my food that way to present it to people who I expect to eat it. And it doesn't help me the next time I'm trying to plate something.

Finally, I get the sense that your art directors are running amok with Adobe InDesign, which is a powerful tool indeed. Bubble type, helvetica with no leading, and microscopic font sizes may work on high res screens in evenly lit offices, but they don't work in print. Your pages are looking dense, and your layouts are reaching for retro hipness that can only work when irony fills the air like smoke in a Berlin lounge. Food magazines like you, Bon Appetit, can be many things, but ironic doesn't make it to that list.

I know you're experimenting, and I applaud it, but I don't think it's working yet. I'm still loyal, so I'm waiting patiently for you to get over your mid-life crisis.

Yours Truly, Benjamin

The Sugar Coated Truth

Sugar's reputation may have gone to the nutritional dogs over the last three or four decades, but it doesn't deserve the rap when it comes to baking. It's an essential ingredient not only for the taste, but for the way it impacts texture. If you bake cookies or make pancakes, think carefully before you cut back.

In Baking, Sugar is a Liquid
Sugar mixes with water like lonely dogs in a parking lot, and then it holds on tight as a tick. This hydro-greediness gives cookie dough the lubrication is needs to spread more fully on the baking sheet, and then retain moisture longer in the jar. Leaving sugar out will only give you minor caloric savings (as compared with say, the butter) and  just results in higher, drier disks you won't want to eat at all. According to my crude calculations, cutting sugar in half, using an average cookie recipe, will only save you about 15-20 calories per cookie. Not worth it!

Sugar Versus Protein
Whenever you bake something that's leavened, from cakes to pancakes, you're making good use of wheat proteins to create a sticky mass capable of holding bubbles while it firms into a delicious, cakey matrix.

This stickiness comes from gluten, a protein that only forms when water is around. Since sugar sequesters water, it inhibits some of the protein from forming. That's why pancakes made with no sugar can be bready and tough, while those made with sugar are tender and light.

It also explains why sugar is a preservative: it literally sucks the juice out of germs.

The Importance of the Liquor Cabinet

Getting your place together with an eye to entertaining can shake up how you go about it. For example, for years I've scattered liquor and aperatif bottles along with their appropriate (more or less) glassware across various and sundry cabinets, bookshelves, and even a few less dignified spots (i.e., cardboard boxes shoved under the bed). On top of that, I never had the right number of tumblers for all, a fact usually only brought into clear focus when the guests arrived. Now I've got a liquor cabinet.

Welcoming and Organized
Nothing says "hi" more warmly than the words "Can I get you something to drink?" accompanied by a short walk to the liquor cabinet. In addition to establishing a party vibe, it can keep you, the host, more organized. By putting all the libation paraphernalia in one place (alcoholic or not), the drinks and party flow more easily with fewer last minute trips to Crate & Barrel for hi-balls, or the over-priced package store on the corner for Cinzano.

Route the Traffic
In addition to being an invaluable organizing tool, the liquor cabinet in the dining area establishes a beachhead that helps you conquer the greatest foe to party flow: kitchen stickiness. Instead of congregating around your cutting board, guests will naturally migrate to the rest of the floor plan--a key to your sanity as you get the meal or appetizers together.

The Style Angle
If you follow the philosophy, as I do, to never let an opportunity for accessorizing go untapped, you need a liquor cabinet. It's the perfect spot to express your inner ring-a-ding-dinger, so go ahead and get an ice bucket, a silvery tray, and maybe even some quirky red tag sale glassware. No one judges the liquor cabinet accessories.

Basics
A well stocked liquor cabinet doesn't need to cost a bundle, or require 20 bottles with exotic varieties. Here's a list of basics that will cover almost every one's taste and budget.
1. Get yourself an inexpensive vodka. Most people will not be able to tell the difference when mixed. If you're sensitive about leaving plastic bottles lying around, decant.
2. A reasonably good gin. Unlike vodka, you can really tell the difference. I like Tanquerey and Bombay Saphire for their quality and relatively reasonable price. There are better gins, but you won't be sorry, either.
3. You need some whiskey. There are some great bourbons such as Evan Williams Single Barrel, but I always keep Knob Creek on hand. It's solid, tried and true...and frankly, not that many people drink it straight so you only need a small bottle to start. If you get into it, there's a whole world of bourbon to explore.
4. Sippin' Tequila...get a good one.
5. Margarita Tequila like Cuervo. When it's mixed with all of the citrus and sugar and salt, there's so much going on that the tequila won't play a leading role.
6. Some silver rum for Mojitos.
7. You also need a few condiments: Angustura bitters for whiskey drinks, triple sec for sprinkling on berries and putting in Margaritas, and some white vermouth for martinis and pan sauces (yum).
8. You also need some basic equipment: a cocktail shaker, a few tumblers, and a shot glass for measuring. Pretty much everything else can be improvised.

Sweet Lime, As Seen in Darjeeling Limited

I was curious and surprised to find a new citrus in my local produce store: sweet lime. Another variation on the citrus theme, sweet lime is a juicy, sweet rather than acidic fruit reminiscent in flavor of grapefruit and mandarin oranges.

In the film Darjeeling Limited, sweet lime was served as a refresher to passengers settling into their cars. I did some checking around (i.e. Wikipedia) and learned that India is one of the largest producers of sweet lime in the world, where it's both consumed for fun and medicinal purposes.

I've never personally had any sweet lime juice there, but a survey of websites suggest that it's mixed with some honey or sugar similar to lemonade for serving. If anyone has had this drink in India, where it's called mousabi (musabi / mosabi), please comment and let it be known how it's typically prepared.

Turning Sweet Lime into a Cocktail
Never one to stand on tradition when it comes to mixology, I juiced a few sweet limes and tried them in traditional citrus cocktails. If you come a across some sweet limes, try substituting some or all of the lemon or lime juice in your favorite recipe with sweet lime. You'll need about one third of the total sugar than when using lemons, and it delivers an interesting, subtle twist.

I'm a gin person, so I tried came up with this recipe. Try it for yourself and see what you think!

The Sweet Lime Limited
2 ounces of gin
3 ounces sweet lime juice
2 Basil Leaves
1 ounce simple syrup (a.k.a. sugar water, a tablespoon of sugar or more to taste dissolved in a little warm water will do if you don't have simple syrup handy)
Pinch of salt
Splash of Soda Water

Combine and serve over ice in an chilled tumbler.

For some additional comment and photos, check these out from reader Dave Johnson.