Crush Some Soup!

If you live in the Northeast, you've probably noticed an alarming new trend: it's fucking cold as a witches’ tit outside!
Unfortunately, most of us don't have the luxury of sitting on the couch, wrapped in a down comforter cocoon while we watch Top Chef reruns; emerging only to go to the bathroom or answer the door for the take-out we'd forgotten we'd ordered. When I was working a soul-crushing desk job, nothing used to give me greater pleasure, during the cold Winter months, than coming home and turning on the stove. I could've been boiling water for pasta, or making soup from scratch; as long as the stove was on I felt...right.
Today, we're not going to focus so much on boiling water for pasta, but making soup. The kind of soup your grandma used to make, from scratch, that takes half a day, and most importantly, warms your kitchen to the core.
This past weekend I helped cook a pot luck dinner (one of many) for the Brooklyn Kindergarten Society Gala. Until 24 hours before we ate, I still had no idea about what we were going to eat...but I KNEW it had to involve butternut squash soup. So, without further verbiage, here's an awesome recipe for soup.

Butternut Squash Soup, with Cinnamon Toasts, Fried Sage & Chili Oil

Soup
2 large butternut squash, peeled and cut into chunks
1 large Spanish onion, small diced
1 carrot, small diced
2 stalks of celery, diced
2 cloves of garlic, minced
2 TBSP ground Cinnamon
Salt & Pepper, to taste
3 TBSP Olive Oil
½ Cup, White Wine
4 Cups of water

Cinnamon Toast
1 Cup of Brioche bread, cut into 1-inch-by-1-inch cubes
4 TBSP Butter
1 Sprig of Thyme, picked
3 TBSP Cinnamon
1 TBSP Sugar

Fried Sage
12 Sage leaves
¼ Cup Canola Oil
Salt, to taste

Serves 6, with enough soup for leftovers

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees F, sprinkle the squash with 1 tablespoon of olive oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper, to taste.
Roast until soft, but not until the squash takes on too much colour (approximately 45 minutes).
While the squash is roasting, add the remaining oil to a large pot and begin to sweat the carrots, over medium heat. When the carrots begin to soften, add the celery and then the onion and season with salt and pepper, to taste. Raise heat to high and deglaze with white wine, and reduce to a sec.
Add the roasted squash, remaining cinnamon, and cover with water. Bring the whole pot to a boil, then reduce heat to a simmer. Simmer until the squash is soft, and the water has reduced by 1 quart.
Working in batches, puree the soup until smooth in a blender or food processor. (NOTE: The soup will be hot, so make sure to be careful and if necessary cover the top of the blender with a kitchen towel to avoid burns).
When fully pureed, return to pot and check seasoning and consistency; adding more water or reducing further depending on how thick or thin you like your soup.

To make the Cinnamon Toast, melt the butter in a large sauté pan, over medium heat, until it begins to brown. Working quickly, add the bread and picked thyme to the pan, tossing frequently to evenly coat the bread with the brown butter and thyme.
When browned, remove from heat and toss with the cinnamon and sugar, until well coated. Then transfer to a sheet lined with paper towels and dry.

To fry the sage, simply heat the oil in a pan until approximately 325 degrees. Add the sage to the oil and fry until crispy (approximately 5-to-7 seconds per side). Then remove to a sheet lined with paper towels and sprinkle lightly with salt.

As far as the chili oil goes, you can buy a bottle from an Asian market somewhere; or you can infuse your own at home. I like to infuse my own, but that takes time; and you probably want soup.

To serve, ladle 12 ounces of soup into a large bowl and garnish with a small mound of toasts in the center of the soup. Then place two sage leaves on top of toasts and lightly drizzle with chili oil.

* The last two times I've made this soup, I've been doing other stuff has haven't taken a picture, so instead you get a funny picture from dinner service a few months back...

I Hate the Food Network

By the way, this post is a lot longer than most of my normal one's, so you might want to settle in with a Biali and a cup of Joe while you read...

In case you couldn't figure out from the title what this piece is about, I hate the Food Network! I hate the network like I hate self-obsessed, overly opinionated vegans who spend every waking moment they’re not eating quinoa and white bean salads and drinking wheatgrass, telling me what's wrong with my eating habits! It should be noted that I re-wrote the first three paragraphs coming home a little buzzed on the train.
I've realized; after many conversations with friends, who both work in the restaurant industry and don’t; that my hatred of the Food Network doesn't stem from a place of jealousy...it stems from a point of fundamental confusion and anger with what they see fit to put in front of their cameras.
Let's start with Sandra Lee; a woman who Anthony Bourdain has devoted pages upon pages worth of ink to. So without belaboring this too much, let’s just talk about my anger that the Food Network would have the audacity to call this hack a “chef,” even though I doubt she's ever even seen the inside of a culinary school; much less knows how to break down a fucking chicken! This lithe, blonde, smiling succubus poses in front of the cameras, as she supposedly “teaches” mid-American housewives how to cook. And what is she "teaching" them? Not how to make cassoulet or pan-roast Brussels sprouts or make a butternut squash bisque; but how to open a can of Brand X sauce, add a tin of Brand Y diced meat and pour the whole unholy amalgam over limp pasta, top it with some yellow cheese and toss the whole monstrosity in the oven. Oh, and lest I forget: how to mix the dusty bottles of booze, laying dormant in a housewife's cupboard into something she can drunken herself with to the point that dinner with her family is palatable. And yeah, I might be speaking in absolutes, here, but I don't think I'm that far off base.



Basically, I don't understand what purpose her show serves. If her aim is to give people a quick alternative to a "home-cooked" meal, then there are plenty of things she could cook that don't have their genesis in a can, package, or spice mix. And if her aim is to cook primarily what's available to a mid-American housewife; then for the love god, use a fucking potato, or fresh corn or any of the myriad bounty that our heartland currently produces. Look, I get it. It's easier to open a can of tuna & mix it with a box of Ronzoni than it is to actually cook something from scratch. And I know that not everyone in America, certainly far more than those that have access to Sandra's little Half Hour of Hell, can afford to go to the green market or plant a garden or be choosy when they’re in the soup isle at the Price Chopper. But that doesn't mean they should be forced to cut corners and eat crap. I guess I should keep my fingers crossed now, that Sandra doesn’t have her Governor-Elect boyfriend send a death squad to my front door…



The next, and quite possibly biggest, offenders on my list; are a pair of southern assholes that manage to offend me on many levels. Patrick and Gina Neely, the co-hosts of their own show; Down Home with the Neely's, or as I call it, “The Step-n-Fetchit Cookin' Hour,” is probably one of the most offensive things I've ever seen on television. These two assholes dance and sing and smile and sass their way through a half hour of TV, while they teach Americans how to make: fried chicken, biscuits & gravy, pork spare ribs, barbequed everything!, mud pie; and wash it all down with watermelon-flavoured sweet tea! They offend me because, as people of colour who cook for a national television audience, I believe they have a responsibility not to perpetuate the stereotype of what “America” thinks black southerners eat and cook at home. But who the hell am I to say what their responsibility is? I’m just an opinionated dude who doesn’t have a TV show. But you know what I also am? I’m a black guy who cooks for a living and when I watch those two it affects me like fingernails across a chalkboard. I just think that maybe perpetuating stereotypes isn’t the best use of their talents. If; and again I know I'm generalizing, but; if most Americans have never come face-to-face with a real live chef who is a person of colour, then why does the Food Network trot these two out, as if to say: "these are black chefs and this is what black people cook. Fatty food that's deep friend and dripping with sweet sauce." The Network has Aaron McCargo Jr., a well spoken guy from New Jersey who actually has good, healthy recipes; and to my knowledge has never danced in front of the Food Network cameras. But I suppose a fairly well-spoken black chef, who may not know how to dance is more threatening to the Network and their viewers.
Next, are the "Private Chefs of Beverly Hills." A group of clueless, wealthy shoemakers who go into even more clueless, even more wealthy idiots homes to make canapes. But apparently, it's funny because the Botoxed broad having the doggie party says she doesn't want her dog eating beef; or at the last minute, the marginally famous person they found decides they don't want anything fried at their parties. No recipes are given, technique is non-existent, and to hear these people talk about food is like listening to me talk about the Flat Tax...it might sound good on paper, but sooner or later you're going to realize I don't know what the fuck I'm talking about. On a recent episode, I watched as this cute blonde chick dumped packaged ground chicken and canned pumpkin puree into a sauté pan together, then poked at it a few times with a spatula. We then saw her take the whole brownish culinary abortion and use it as a filling for something she called Chicken-Pumpkin Pot stickers...or something equally as offensive and stupid.



Then, there's the bleach-blonded, goateed tubby bastard Guy Fieri; who I'd just as soon push out a moving car on the 101, as I would have him attempt to teach me how to cook something. He drives around the country sampling road-side fare, withstanding the urge to call everyone he encounters, "brah" and can also be seen judging tailgating competitions, participated in by overweight, mustached Middle Americans.
Recently, I watched this jackass demonstrate sushi; but talk about how Americans "don't like sushi," so it apparently, it's up to him to "jazz it up." You know what I say? You don't like sushi? Don't order sushi! But don't wrap cheese steak filling or whatever, with raw carrots, in rice; call it the Spikey-Haired-Asshole Roll and call it a day. That's about as ridiculous as it is offensive.
What qualifies him to be an authority on sushi, or anything, for that matter? I mean, aside from looking completely ridiculous, I'm not sure he has any discernable talents. It seems the Food Network is telling me they'd rather trot out some bleach-blonded fat ass to teach me how to make sushi, than offering that job to Ming Tsai or David Chang (though I'm sure he'd loudly turn them down), or hell, a Jackie Chan impersonator. And why? Is it a visibility issue? Are Asian chefs not well known enough for the Network to think Americans would be comfortable with them? If that's the case, then the solution is obvious: pack the cast of their laughably rigged Next Food Network Star with a bunch of Asians and grease one through! Either that, or drive a truck load of money up to the guy from Lost's house.
Then there's Michael Symon's new show, "Food Feuds." A rip-off of Food Wars, which airs on the Travel Channel. And lest we forget, Scripps (papa bear of the Food Network) closed on a $1.1 Billion dollar deal for the Travel Channel earlier this year; so exactly what function does this show serve?
Don't get me wrong, I like and respect Michael Symon; and can even forgive his appearances on The Iron Chef, but it’s just him passing judgment on various foods. At least on Food Wars the host sets up a panel of three locals that participate in a blind taste test. This adds a fun element when the die-hard fan of say, Shake Shack picks the burger from Burger Joint (this has not, to my knowledge, actually happened). Instead, Michael thinks about it off-screen, and presents the winner with a giant, and quite ridiculous looking, trophy. I’m not saying this has actually happened, but what’s to stop the owner of Mom’s Happy Cupcakery from taking bald Mikey out back and helping him out with a little hand release to sway the competition in their favour?

Basically, what pisses me off about the Food Network is their seemingly constant view of the American public as generally retarded, completely gullible and in need of constantly being pandered too. And yet, obviously, I still watch the Network. I still know about their new shows, their talentless former skaters and homemakers they call “chefs,” and sheer nonsense that is on their channel at any given moment. I just wish the Food Network would have more respect for their viewers intelligence, because they honestly don’t seem to care…like not even a little bit.