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May 30, 2007 | Regina Schrambling, Times Staff Writer
IN the last week, I have eaten serious crab cakes from Baltimore, barbecue from Texas, cheesecake from Chicago, chili from Cincinnati and lobsters from Boston. My toast has been topped with marionberry jam from Oregon, my salads dressed with cranberry vinaigrette from Seattle. And I'm a little sugar-woozy from Derby-Pie from Kentucky and coconut patties from Florida.
March 28, 2007 | Lucy Stille, Special to The Times
BRISKET is my favorite part of the Passover meal, and yet, until very recently, I had never made one. This year, when it looked like I would be in New York for Passover, my brother suggested we hold a Seder at his apartment on the Upper West Side. Being the older sibling and more experienced cook, I knew I'd be assigned the brisket. I had no old family recipe to fall back on as my Jewish grandmother didn't cook and my WASP mother was a pot roast kind of gal, so I consulted my cookbooks.
January 5, 2007
Re "Food derived from clones is safe, FDA says," Dec. 29 Today's whirl of excess and acceleration is beginning to scare me. Deciding the safety of such 21st century issues as cloned meat, let alone its secure labeling, is no match for yesterday's governmental power paradigms. The under-trained, over-pressured heads of the Food and Drug Administration should be required to eat roast rack of clone and brisket mini-me for a year before each weighty decree. JUDY DAVID Brentwood What brave new world has opened up before us?
January 25, 2006 | Betty Baboujon, Special to The Times
EVERY Sunday for several years when I was growing up in Manila, we'd pile into the family car and head out to our favorite Chinese noodle house for lunch. We kids could order whatever we wanted, but somehow I always chose the same thing: a beef brisket noodle soup with each element of the dish in its own bowl. The clear broth was deliciously beefy and the fresh wheat noodles supple and al dente. But it was the brisket itself that I always polished off.
September 1, 2004 | Regina Schrambling, Special to The Times
One of the little ironies of what lies ahead this weekend is that labor is the last thing anyone wants to think about, especially in the kitchen. What started as a commemoration of the working life is now all about sloth in the name of a send-off for summer. Once you start thinking lazy, there's one sure menu that is not only suited to long, languid days but also symbolizes the season. It doesn't even involve dropping by a hot grill.
March 31, 2004 | Evan Kleiman, Special to The Times
Growing up in Los Angeles as an only child of a single parent -- my mom -- I experienced holidays as a fusion of our tiny family and the huge extended family my mom constantly gathered around us. When spring rolled around, Passover was celebrated at our house or my aunt's with a crowd of nearly 30, an eclectic mix of secular and observant Jews, nearly all of Ashkenazic background.
December 17, 2003 | Valli Herman, Times Staff Writer
Performing, it seems, is great preparation for cooking under pressure. Dweezil Zappa and Lisa Loeb are the coolest of cooks. Neither is the least bit flummoxed that smoke rises from the roasting asparagus or that the new macaroon recipe creates what Zappa calls "alien macaroons." It's almost Hanukkah, which starts at sundown Friday, and Zappa and Loeb have invited a few friends to their Studio City house for brisket and latkes, and a few less traditional surprises.
March 19, 2003 | Charles Perry, Times Staff Writer
"Today on her radio show," boasted the deli's owner, "Dr. Laura said, 'Mr. Pickles' brisket is the first step before adultery.' " The first step before adultery? I'm not sure what that could mean. We know talk show host Laura Schlessinger takes adultery seriously, so maybe it's her way of saying Mr. Pickles Deli makes serious brisket. It certainly does. Brisket has a rich flavor but a regrettable tendency to cook up dry. Mr.
I wander around these days enveloped in the distinct odor of burning wood. People have been remarking on it, and I apologize to any who are offended. Smoke just stays with you, and I've been obsessed with smoking food lately. I wasn't always this way. When I was a kid, I used to make my own custom hamburger sauce out of every condiment in the cupboard, and one day I ill-advisedly put a whole tablespoon of liquid smoke into the mix. When I tasted it, I gagged violently.
I used to tell people that I was doomed to develop premature liver spots because I made good brisket before I hit puberty. My ancient Yiddish curse was mythical, but my brisket-making was all too real. In reality, I was embarrassed that even as a 12-year-old, I was spending so much time in the kitchen. I would practice clarinet with the school band, run track and then go home and experiment cooking with briskets. I think I became a food writer so I would have less explaining to do.
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