FAT LITTLE VIRGINS

Fellow blogger Dovbear has posted a list of the best things that he has ever eaten. As you would expect, it is an interesting reflection of his environment, and I recommend reading his post, both for the vicarious gustatory pleasure as well as what is says about the man.

"The chicken is out of this world"

No, he's not the Swedish Chef.

He also suggested if any other semi-famous bloggers would like to pick up the meme, he would link in exchange for a link. I cannot claim to be semi-famous or even semi-infamous. In the slightest.
But I am an almighty opportunist. And I like the idea.


FUNNEST FOODS - A LIST

Herring at Van Altena's stand outside the Rijksmuseum
Mr. Van Altena was neurotic about the quality and presentation of his merchandise, and the cleanliness of his stand. He sold the finest and most delicious groene haring you would ever see, perfectly trimmed and boned - a veritable sushi-chef's praestation. His haring-kot was a landmark.

Unfortunately, he closed a few years back, because the municipality would not allow him to upgrade his water lines. Rabbosai, this was a tragedy of horrific proportions. Savage Kitten wept when she heard the news.

FYI: Groene haring is the same as matjes herring. The term 'matje' is demotic from 'maagdje', a 'little virgin'. So-called because the little virgin is still immature, and has been storing up fat for her first winter. It's the high percentage of fat which makes her delicious.

Once the fish is caught, it is gutted except for the alvleesklier (pancreas), and lightly salted, packed, chilled. The pancreatic enzymes and the very mild cure combined make for a very tender bit of fish. Now, in order to kill the herring nematode, Dutch law requires that the beastie get frozen solid for twenty four to forty eight hours, then thawed again under precise conditions. It is this which allows one to enjoy Dutch-style herring year-round, instead of just during the fishing season. As you may have surmised, Dutch herring is raw by American standards, though not so by Japanese taste. The cure is very light indeed.

Pickled herring is no substitute. Aside from being a repulsive German abomination of no edibility whatsoever. Just so you know. Ick poo.


Lunch at Heathrow AirportThe English are not famous for their food. About some of which the less said the better. Far worse than mediocre English food, however, is the prepackaged slopkettle which airlines are pleased to serve as grub on their longer flights. So it was with considerable pleasure that I discovered a chain of caviar huts at Heathrow. What the heck, why not? In addition to caviar, they also had smoked salmon, gravlax, and various other wonderful fishy things, plus chilled vodka.
We had lunch there while waiting for our flight. I drank her vodka. Then we had lunch again, less than five minutes after our first lunch. And more vodka - it came with the meal.
I was happy as a clam all the way back to San Francisco, and sneeringly rejected the humble chow that was offered on board. Darn fine eating, baby.


Dinner in AntwerpWhen Savage Kitten and I were overseas, we tripped to Antwerpen for the day. Yes, we left the hotel at a reasonable hour....... but en-route to Amsterdam Centraal Station we ran into obstacles. You see, there were herring stands (haring kotten) along the way. Savage Kitten felt a pressing though not altogether practical need to sample their wares, right then and right there, in order to compare them to Van Altena - in the spirit of scientific inquiry of course.

We arrived at the trainstation several hours delayed, nearly six hours later we rolled into Antwerpen. By then Savage Kitten's bloodsugar levels had plummeted, and she was tired, grumpy, and mewling fiercely. Only one thing to do - drag her to a restaurant and feed her.
At a place of which not even a trace remains on the internet, we feasted on a sumptuous array of chilled seafoods, followed by a few discrete warm dishes, and luscious desserts.

We've revisited Belgium a number of times since.
To quote Savage Kitten, more or less, "the Belgians beat the pants off of you Dutch when it comes to food good gracious you guys got nothing nothing man those Belgians can cook you guys suck you know that really suck hah eel and cheese but the Belgians that fish those shrimp the mussels anguilles au vert the darling little lamb chops baa baaaaaaa waterzooi and those chocolates pralines pastries the delightful pate carbonade soup sausages - cheeses H. that was good that was something oowee really can we go back again soon can we can we can we?"


Sushi for several hundred dollarsIn the early eighties there was a sushi restaurant at Grant and Bush, before that intersection became the Eurotrash district of Chinatown. It was a very good sushi restaurant. One time, several of us drove from Berkeley to San Francisco in the middle of the night to eat there, as we lusted for fine fish. We stayed till four in the morning. We spent every last dime we had. We left with smiles all over our faces and all over our insides.


Curried potatoesFor several years I worked at an Indian restaurant. The chef, Jeet Singh Rawat, was a clean man, and a darn fine cook. There was a dish he made for the staff which was fairly simple but utterly delicious. Potato chunks in a modicum of buttery spicy sauce. It was not on the menu, but was similar in some ways to a typical restaurant vindaloo - there was a tangy element almost overpowered by the main reason many Indians eat out: ghee. Plus garlic, cumin, fenugreek, deghi mirch, etcetera.


Gehakte leber
Which is how I found out about gout. It wasn't my own gehakte leber that did it. It was hers. I am too lazy to make it often, so she made some. It was very enjoyable. Delicious. Smooth, but not too smooshy - the smoothness was schmaltz. Liver, schmaltz, onion. Sheer heaven.
The attack of gout lasted for three days. I am become a grumpy old coot.