I realized I hadn't discussed a cheese for several months, so I decided to rectify that. Happily, my local Shop-Rite grocery happened to have a couple of examples that I haven't tried yet. Today it'll be gruyere cheese, from Switzerland.
Gruyere originated in the cantons of Fribourg, Vaud, Neuchatel, Jura, and Bern, Switzerland. It's named after a town in Fribourg. The history is a little vague. Most websites didn't give a date, much less an inventor(s). But a couple claimed it was developed in the 12th century A.D., or others even more specifically to 1125. (More on this later.)
Conversely, the method for making it is well documented, and very specific. Raw cow's milk is first heated to 34 degrees C (or 93 degrees Fahrenheit) in a copper vat, and curdled by adding liquid rennet. The resulting curds are then sliced into small pieces and stirred, which produces some whey. This is then reheated at 43 degrees C (109 degrees F) and then the temperature is rapidly raised to 54 degrees C (or 129 degrees F). The whey is then strained, and it and the curds are put into pressing molds. The result is then salted with brine, and then, "smeared with bacteria," which is a very appetizing quote. After two months aging in regular room temperature, it's then put into a specialized place for its ultimate maturing. Ideally this is a natural cave, but other places with a precise temperature of 13-14 degrees C (55-57 degrees F) and a humidity of 94-98% are acceptable, too. This final aging is between 3-10 months. It's a hard yellow cheese. Some consumers categorize it as being sweet but slightly salty and nutty when younger, and "assertive, earthy, and complex when mature." (I love this last quote--it reminds me of the more pretentious, wordy descriptions of wine, like something the television characters Frasier and Niles Crane would use.) Gruyere is known as a particularly diverse cheese. It's a good melting cheese, as in the traditional Swiss dish of fondue. It's also useful for baking. It's a common choice for chicken and veal cordon bleu, French onion soup, and quiches. It's also good as a table cheese, and in salads. Although Switzerland has fought hard for a trademark for it, there are several other cheeses that are at least similar. The Greeks make one called graviera. The French produce Le Brouere, Comte, and Beaufort. And the Austrians also make a variety.
Moving on, gruyere is the only kind to win the Best Cheese Award at the World Cheese Awards four times--in 1992, 2002, 2015, and 2017. If you're curious, this competition has been going on since 1988. It was started by the Guild of Fine Foods, a British company. They also give out Great Taste Awards to other foods and beverages. I'll list a country score of times won Best Cheese Award, as if this was the Olympics:
1) 11. England
2) 8. France
3) 4. Switzerland
Then a bunch of places are tied for fourth, with 1 winner each: Italy, Holland, Spain, Ireland, Canada, Norway, Germany, Tenerife (one of Spain's Canary Islands). (Spain's winner, in 2012, was another cheese I posted about, on August 29, 2015--Manchego.) There's also an International Cheese Awards held annually, near Nantwich, England, since 1897. I don't know which is the more respected award. And, alas, I couldn't find a comprehensive list of the Best Cheese of the Year winners for this competition.
Kaltbach le gruyere cheese, distributed by Emmi Roth, U.S.A. 5 ounce (140 g.) serving, cost about $7-8. Yellowish-white color. Hard texture. I had mine plain, cut into bite-sized pieces. I liked this--it was a bit tart and salty. My search for a cheese I don't at least think is okay continues. My father liked it as well.
Finally, the Roman Emperor Antonius Pius (one of the "Five Good Emperors") allegedly died from indigestion brought on by eating too much gruyere cheese, back in A.D. 161. Which, of course, is about 1000 years before this cheese was supposedly invented. Maybe it was another kind of cheese from this same town/region in what's now Switzerland.
Saturday, June 30, 2018
Saturday, June 23, 2018
Exotic/Disgusting Foods and Beverages Forum--Gazpacho!
As I think I've mentioned several times before, one of my eating quirks is that I hate hot liquids. Beverages should always be cold, in my view. And when I was a kid I used to put ice cubes in soups to cool them down, before I figured, "why bother?" and stopped eating this disappointing substance entirely. This dislike also applies to most stews, since they're at least soup-like. Anyway, whenever I've told people about this over the years, in addition to the disbelief and eye-rolling, they often ask, "What about soups that are supposed to be cold, like gazpacho?" To which I've always replied that I've never tried these, but would do so if I had the chance.
Well, that chance finally arrived. The Food Lion supermarket in Eden, North Carolina had gazpacho. A 500 ml. (16.9 ounce) carton, distributed by a company that I've discussed several times before, the New Jersey-based Goya. Goya only distributed though--the gazpacho was actually made in Spain (perhaps on a plain, I don't know). And, because of gazpacho's nature I didn't even need to heat it up on a stove or in a microwave--all I had to do was open the top.
The origins of gazpacho are quite murky. The Southern Spanish region of Andalusia is always given credit, but the "when" is extremely conjectural. Some think that Roman soldiers introduced a precursor to it roughly 2000 years ago, others maintain it was a North African-inspired dish, from between about A.D. 700 to the late 1400's. Part of the problem is that what's referred to as gazpacho can be many different things. The oldest version is thought to have been a makeshift, rough soup consisting of stale bread, water, olive oil, and garlic. But modern versions are very diverse--many of the different cities in Andalusia have their own specific takes on this soup. Some of the various ingredients used include avocado, parsley, watermelon, cucumber, grapes, bell peppers, onion, wine vinegar, meat stock, and seafood. The color can range from red, to green, to white. Finally, in the 19th century many cooks started using tomatoes in it. This type, associated with the city of Seville, has become the best known one, especially outside of Spain. Even the name "gazpacho" is wrapped in mystery. Some think its Greek in origin, other Arabic. The Hebrew word "gazez," which means, "break into little pieces" is another contender. So too is the Latin word "caspa," which similarly means "little pieces" or "fragments." Finally, the nutrition of most versions of gazpacho is impressive too, with all of the veggies. Some refer to it as "liquid salad."
The kind I had was obviously the popular, Seville-based one, as it was made from tomatoes, green and red peppers, cucumbers, olive oil, sherry vinegar, garlic, and salt. It was clearly professionally blended, as I couldn't really pick out recognizable chunks of specific vegetables. It was red, of course, and looked like tomato juice. The package said it was commonly eaten both out of a bowl like regular soup, or drunk out of a glass as a thick beverage. I tried it both ways. Also, I had mine chilled, as I'd put it in the fridge several days before. To my astonishment, I enjoyed it. It wasn't great, but it was decent. Nicely tangy and spicy, and refreshing. I had no trouble finishing the entire carton.
I know this sounds strange, but this experience was oddly traumatic for me. Previously I've always hated tomato soup, V-8, etc., in addition to loathing soups in general. It was a similar reaction to my liking butter beans (a type of lima bean) back in my December 16, 2017 post. It's almost a challenge to my very identity. I don't know who I am anymore!
But, more seriously, I've added at least one soup to my list of acceptable foods. I'll also have renewed interest in trying other cold soups, like the Korean changuk (aka naengguk), the French vichyssoise, the Russian okroshka, and the other Spanish kin of gazpacho, such as salmorejo, pipirrana cojondongo, porra antequerana, and ajoblanco.
I won't, however, retry any hot soups anytime soon. Save at the point of a weapon, or in a starvation situation. I haven't changed THAT much.
Well, that chance finally arrived. The Food Lion supermarket in Eden, North Carolina had gazpacho. A 500 ml. (16.9 ounce) carton, distributed by a company that I've discussed several times before, the New Jersey-based Goya. Goya only distributed though--the gazpacho was actually made in Spain (perhaps on a plain, I don't know). And, because of gazpacho's nature I didn't even need to heat it up on a stove or in a microwave--all I had to do was open the top.
The origins of gazpacho are quite murky. The Southern Spanish region of Andalusia is always given credit, but the "when" is extremely conjectural. Some think that Roman soldiers introduced a precursor to it roughly 2000 years ago, others maintain it was a North African-inspired dish, from between about A.D. 700 to the late 1400's. Part of the problem is that what's referred to as gazpacho can be many different things. The oldest version is thought to have been a makeshift, rough soup consisting of stale bread, water, olive oil, and garlic. But modern versions are very diverse--many of the different cities in Andalusia have their own specific takes on this soup. Some of the various ingredients used include avocado, parsley, watermelon, cucumber, grapes, bell peppers, onion, wine vinegar, meat stock, and seafood. The color can range from red, to green, to white. Finally, in the 19th century many cooks started using tomatoes in it. This type, associated with the city of Seville, has become the best known one, especially outside of Spain. Even the name "gazpacho" is wrapped in mystery. Some think its Greek in origin, other Arabic. The Hebrew word "gazez," which means, "break into little pieces" is another contender. So too is the Latin word "caspa," which similarly means "little pieces" or "fragments." Finally, the nutrition of most versions of gazpacho is impressive too, with all of the veggies. Some refer to it as "liquid salad."
The kind I had was obviously the popular, Seville-based one, as it was made from tomatoes, green and red peppers, cucumbers, olive oil, sherry vinegar, garlic, and salt. It was clearly professionally blended, as I couldn't really pick out recognizable chunks of specific vegetables. It was red, of course, and looked like tomato juice. The package said it was commonly eaten both out of a bowl like regular soup, or drunk out of a glass as a thick beverage. I tried it both ways. Also, I had mine chilled, as I'd put it in the fridge several days before. To my astonishment, I enjoyed it. It wasn't great, but it was decent. Nicely tangy and spicy, and refreshing. I had no trouble finishing the entire carton.
I know this sounds strange, but this experience was oddly traumatic for me. Previously I've always hated tomato soup, V-8, etc., in addition to loathing soups in general. It was a similar reaction to my liking butter beans (a type of lima bean) back in my December 16, 2017 post. It's almost a challenge to my very identity. I don't know who I am anymore!
But, more seriously, I've added at least one soup to my list of acceptable foods. I'll also have renewed interest in trying other cold soups, like the Korean changuk (aka naengguk), the French vichyssoise, the Russian okroshka, and the other Spanish kin of gazpacho, such as salmorejo, pipirrana cojondongo, porra antequerana, and ajoblanco.
I won't, however, retry any hot soups anytime soon. Save at the point of a weapon, or in a starvation situation. I haven't changed THAT much.
Saturday, June 16, 2018
Exotic/Disgusting Foods and Beverages Forum--Plant-Based "Milks"
Since ancient times, many folks have been interested in consuming non-dairy milks--whether it was from lactose intolerance, allergies, or to avoid using/exploiting animals. The first one appears to have been almond milk, which was developed in the Middle East around the 13th century. Since that time, many others have been invented, from a whole host of grains and seeds. The most popular are "milks" made from soy, rice, hemp, coconut, barley, walnut, flaxseed, pumpkin, quinoa, and oats, but others exist, too. Although soy was long the plant-based milk king, it was finally overtaken by almond milk in 2013. Currently plant-based milks make up almost 10% of the total milk market in the U.S. Anyway, upon seeing an entire shelf of the stuff, I snatched up the oddest ones I could find, which were a pea/tapioca/potato based one (Veggemo, from Global Gardens Group), a hemp seed one (Tempt, from Living Harvest Foods), and an oat one (from Pacific Foods).
Global Gardens Group (GGG)is a Canadian company. They state that their goal is "helping to enhance people's health, well being, and to better the quality of life." They maintain that plant based milks are healthier, one example being that they do not contain bad cholesterol. Also, these products they feel are more environmentally friendly (less greenhouse gases, for example), and are more ethical, since animals are not being exploited. Aside from the vanilla flavor I got, they also make original and unsweetened kinds. GGG says that the peas are for protein, nutrition, and flavor, the tapioca is for nutrients and the creamy texture, and the potato makes the liquid smooth and milky white. The company also states that the milks are high in Vitamins D, Vitamin B12, and calcium, and lack cholesterol, gluten, and soy (I didn't know that last one was a concern). They are furthermore non-GMO, vegan, and kosher. Oddly, President and CEO Rob Harrison previously introduced Haagen-Dazs and Ben & Jerry's ice creams to Canada, which are distinctly dairy-based, of course. Evidently he had a change of heart.
I was unable to find out much about Living Harvest Foods. They were founded in 2002, are based in Connecticut in the U.S., and their parent company is Healthy Brands Collective Corporation. Other products include hemp-based foods, and non-dairy frozen desserts. They're also big on environmental sustainability, and are gluten-free. The hemp seed milk I drank is purported to be a good source of amino acids, vitamins, minerals, and omegas, but it wasn't very specific about that. They also clearly had "no THC" printed on their carton, no doubt to dissuade both potheads and those afraid of being arrested by the DEA. Since there is no THC in it, you can't get high on hemp milk, nor will you get false positives on drug tests, as sometimes happens with poppy seed products (because of the poppy plant being the source of opiates).
Pacific Foods was begun in 1987, in the U.S. state of Oregon. Aside from plant-based milks, they manufacture soups, meals, beans, and sauces, to name a few. Weirdly, though, they're not completely meat-free. They sell bone broth, and have several other products that contain chicken and beef. These animals are evidently free-range, locally grown, and from environmentally conscious farms and all, but still, that struck me. I realize that some people who are against say, factory farmed meats and dairy products, but not these products as a whole, but it still seems like an odd combination, to go along with their meal alternatives and plant-based "milks." On a trivial note, the company's VP of Operations is named Joe McCarthy. I think if I was Mr. McCarthy's parents, I would have gone with a first name that wasn't identical to one of country's worst, most destructive senators.
1) Veggemo vanilla "milk,"Global Gardens Group. Aside from the pea/tapioca from cassava/potato starch, it also contains water, organic cane sugar, sunflower oil, sea salt, gellan gum, natural flavors, and various vitamins and nutrients. Had a slightly brownish-white color. Odd taste. Rather watery. Some vanilla overtones. Kind of "meh" overall--not good, but not really bad, either.
2) Tempt hemp "milk," Living Harvest Foods. In addition to the hemp seed base, this one contains water, pure cane sugar, brown rice syrup, sunflower lecithin, sea salt, gellan gum, and various vitamins and nutrients. An off white color. Thicker texture, less watery than the Veggemo. Better taste, too. Decent as a beverage, and poured over Cheerios cereal.
3) Oat "milk," Pacific Foods. As with the others, this one also had sea salt, water, gellan gum, and various vitamins and nutrients, to go along with the main oat base. Brownish-white hue. Tastes pretty oat-y, which to me is a positive, as I'm quite the oat fan. A bit sweet. Liked as a beverage, and also with cereal. (Cheerios again, which was sort of eating oats in their own blood.) It's close, but I liked this one best, with the hemp one a close second.
So, I was prepared to kind of hate on these strange "hippy milks," but they actually weren't too bad. Even the worst one, the Veggemo, was alright. And the other two were pretty good. I may even buy the last two again, and try the other flavors from the same companies. (Not that I'm giving up dairy, though--with my obsessive love of cheese, I don't see that ever happening.) Also, if you're good at sleight-of hand, you might be able to trick your friends and use these plant-based milks to successfully complete the "gallon challenge" without vomiting.
Global Gardens Group (GGG)is a Canadian company. They state that their goal is "helping to enhance people's health, well being, and to better the quality of life." They maintain that plant based milks are healthier, one example being that they do not contain bad cholesterol. Also, these products they feel are more environmentally friendly (less greenhouse gases, for example), and are more ethical, since animals are not being exploited. Aside from the vanilla flavor I got, they also make original and unsweetened kinds. GGG says that the peas are for protein, nutrition, and flavor, the tapioca is for nutrients and the creamy texture, and the potato makes the liquid smooth and milky white. The company also states that the milks are high in Vitamins D, Vitamin B12, and calcium, and lack cholesterol, gluten, and soy (I didn't know that last one was a concern). They are furthermore non-GMO, vegan, and kosher. Oddly, President and CEO Rob Harrison previously introduced Haagen-Dazs and Ben & Jerry's ice creams to Canada, which are distinctly dairy-based, of course. Evidently he had a change of heart.
I was unable to find out much about Living Harvest Foods. They were founded in 2002, are based in Connecticut in the U.S., and their parent company is Healthy Brands Collective Corporation. Other products include hemp-based foods, and non-dairy frozen desserts. They're also big on environmental sustainability, and are gluten-free. The hemp seed milk I drank is purported to be a good source of amino acids, vitamins, minerals, and omegas, but it wasn't very specific about that. They also clearly had "no THC" printed on their carton, no doubt to dissuade both potheads and those afraid of being arrested by the DEA. Since there is no THC in it, you can't get high on hemp milk, nor will you get false positives on drug tests, as sometimes happens with poppy seed products (because of the poppy plant being the source of opiates).
Pacific Foods was begun in 1987, in the U.S. state of Oregon. Aside from plant-based milks, they manufacture soups, meals, beans, and sauces, to name a few. Weirdly, though, they're not completely meat-free. They sell bone broth, and have several other products that contain chicken and beef. These animals are evidently free-range, locally grown, and from environmentally conscious farms and all, but still, that struck me. I realize that some people who are against say, factory farmed meats and dairy products, but not these products as a whole, but it still seems like an odd combination, to go along with their meal alternatives and plant-based "milks." On a trivial note, the company's VP of Operations is named Joe McCarthy. I think if I was Mr. McCarthy's parents, I would have gone with a first name that wasn't identical to one of country's worst, most destructive senators.
1) Veggemo vanilla "milk,"Global Gardens Group. Aside from the pea/tapioca from cassava/potato starch, it also contains water, organic cane sugar, sunflower oil, sea salt, gellan gum, natural flavors, and various vitamins and nutrients. Had a slightly brownish-white color. Odd taste. Rather watery. Some vanilla overtones. Kind of "meh" overall--not good, but not really bad, either.
2) Tempt hemp "milk," Living Harvest Foods. In addition to the hemp seed base, this one contains water, pure cane sugar, brown rice syrup, sunflower lecithin, sea salt, gellan gum, and various vitamins and nutrients. An off white color. Thicker texture, less watery than the Veggemo. Better taste, too. Decent as a beverage, and poured over Cheerios cereal.
3) Oat "milk," Pacific Foods. As with the others, this one also had sea salt, water, gellan gum, and various vitamins and nutrients, to go along with the main oat base. Brownish-white hue. Tastes pretty oat-y, which to me is a positive, as I'm quite the oat fan. A bit sweet. Liked as a beverage, and also with cereal. (Cheerios again, which was sort of eating oats in their own blood.) It's close, but I liked this one best, with the hemp one a close second.
So, I was prepared to kind of hate on these strange "hippy milks," but they actually weren't too bad. Even the worst one, the Veggemo, was alright. And the other two were pretty good. I may even buy the last two again, and try the other flavors from the same companies. (Not that I'm giving up dairy, though--with my obsessive love of cheese, I don't see that ever happening.) Also, if you're good at sleight-of hand, you might be able to trick your friends and use these plant-based milks to successfully complete the "gallon challenge" without vomiting.
Saturday, June 9, 2018
Exotic/Disgusting Foods and Beverages Forum--Italian Cookies/Biscuits
As I mentioned back in my Australian cookies post (May 5th, 2018), my local ShopRite grocery seems to have upped its game lately, as far as adding foreign products to its shelves. In this case, I discovered four different kinds of Italian cookies--ladyfingers (aka savoiardi), two kinds of biscotti, and amarettis.
As it turns out, ShopRite's parent company, Wakefern, also was the company which imported and marketed these cookies. (Although they were all made in Italy, using Italian ingredients and recipes, so that's why I counting them as Italian.) Wakefern is an immense retailing cooperative, the largest group of supermarkets in the U.S., and the fourth largest cooperative of any kind in the country. It is also reportedly the largest single employer in the state of New Jersey, with 36,000 employees. Wakefern was incorporated in 1946, and its main supermarket, ShopRite (which has stores in the Mid Atlantic states of New Jersey, New York, Connecticut, Delaware, Maryland, and Pennsylvania) was begun in 1951.
Let's move to the cookies/biscuits themselves. Both of these terms apply to the same type of food--basically small dessert pastries. The latter term is used in much of Europe, and Australia, while the former is used in the U.S. and some other places. Ladyfingers are, as the name suggests, roughly similar looking to human fingers, and are dry, low density, egg-based sponge-like cookies. Although the inventor(s) is lost to history (as far as I could tell--I welcome students of cookies to provide me with any precise details), the place was the former Duchy of Savoy (now part of France), and the time was the late 1400's. These biscuits are often dipped in syrup, or liqueurs, or coffee, to offset their dryness, and are also commonly used as parts of other, more complicated dessert creations. They're also good food for teething babies. Ladyfingers are amazingly popular worldwide too, as they're readily consumed in much of North and South America, Europe, and Australia.
Amaretti biscuits came along a little later, in the early 1700's. Once again, details are limited. It's known that they were developed in the Saronno comune (essentially a township) in Lombardy, Italy, but the name of the creator(s) is not recorded. They were made to honor an also unnamed bishop or cardinal to the small community. Amarettis are almond-flavored macaroons, or a sweet meringue-based confection. In Italy traditionally they're flavored with bitter almonds. Bitter almonds are a little dicey to use, as they contain forty-two times the amount of deadly cyanide than do their regular sweeter sibling. Because of this, bitter almonds aren't approved by the FDA in the U.S. So I only got to try the non-traditional, safer version.
Biscotti is a bit of a misleading name. In Italy it refers to cookies/biscuits as a whole, meaning it could refer to dozens of separate types. However, to Americans such as myself biscotti is synonymous with an Italian cookie called cantuccios. These are (again) almond-flavored, twice baked (to preserve longer), dry, crunchy biscuits. As with ladyfingers they're also often dipped in a drink to soften them up--traditionally a dessert wine called Vin Santo. Their history is even more murky--the place is known (the town of Prato, Italy), but the time period is nonspecific--the Middle Ages, or by most reckoning the years 400-1400 A.D. Antonio Mattei rediscovered an original recipe and reintroduced them in 1867. His ingredients consisted of eggs, flour, sugar, pine nuts, and unroasted, unskinned almonds. And no yeast or fat. Modern chefs sometimes use cinnamon, baking powder, pistachios, and anise. Other dipping drinks include orange juice, coffee, and tea.
1) Ladyfingers. These were roughly rectangular rods, about 4 inches (about 10 cm.) long, 2 cm. (about .75 inch) wide, a yellowish-brown color, with a white sugar coating. Very crunchy and incredibly bland. Disappointing. Dry and uninteresting.
2) Biscotti, cranberry flavor. Once again these were roughly rectangular-shaped, about 5 cm. by 2 cm. (about 2 inches by .75 inch), with a light brown exterior, and a whitish-yellow interior, offset by occasional visible pieces of cranberry. They looked unappetizing--like corners of stale bread. But, while dry and hard in texture, they're okay. Some sweetness and a nice cranberry tang to them. So solid overall.
3) Biscotti, chocolate flavor. Same size and shape as the cranberry kind, with the only difference being visible chocolate chips instead of cranberry pieces. Same dryness and hard texture, too. But once again, they were pretty good. Sweet enough, and the chocolate was a pleasing additive.
4) Amarettis. These were circular, about 3 cm. (about 1.25 inches) in diameter, and yellowish-brown in color. Strong almond flavor, which made sense since almonds are 20% of their makeup. Tasty. Weird, sweet flavor. Crunchy. Good.
As you can see, I enjoyed 3 out the 4 kinds. But the fourth one, the ladyfingers, was awful--one of the worst cookies I've ever had. To be fair, I didn't know about the standard process of dipping them into liquids to soften them up, and evidently improve the flavor. I guess it's possible that doing so might have made them palatable. (And if I'd dipped the cantuccios and amarettis, maybe I would have liked these even more.) But I have my doubts. I won't be buying ladyfingers again. I will probably buy the others, though, and would try those made by other companies or restaurants.
As it turns out, ShopRite's parent company, Wakefern, also was the company which imported and marketed these cookies. (Although they were all made in Italy, using Italian ingredients and recipes, so that's why I counting them as Italian.) Wakefern is an immense retailing cooperative, the largest group of supermarkets in the U.S., and the fourth largest cooperative of any kind in the country. It is also reportedly the largest single employer in the state of New Jersey, with 36,000 employees. Wakefern was incorporated in 1946, and its main supermarket, ShopRite (which has stores in the Mid Atlantic states of New Jersey, New York, Connecticut, Delaware, Maryland, and Pennsylvania) was begun in 1951.
Let's move to the cookies/biscuits themselves. Both of these terms apply to the same type of food--basically small dessert pastries. The latter term is used in much of Europe, and Australia, while the former is used in the U.S. and some other places. Ladyfingers are, as the name suggests, roughly similar looking to human fingers, and are dry, low density, egg-based sponge-like cookies. Although the inventor(s) is lost to history (as far as I could tell--I welcome students of cookies to provide me with any precise details), the place was the former Duchy of Savoy (now part of France), and the time was the late 1400's. These biscuits are often dipped in syrup, or liqueurs, or coffee, to offset their dryness, and are also commonly used as parts of other, more complicated dessert creations. They're also good food for teething babies. Ladyfingers are amazingly popular worldwide too, as they're readily consumed in much of North and South America, Europe, and Australia.
Amaretti biscuits came along a little later, in the early 1700's. Once again, details are limited. It's known that they were developed in the Saronno comune (essentially a township) in Lombardy, Italy, but the name of the creator(s) is not recorded. They were made to honor an also unnamed bishop or cardinal to the small community. Amarettis are almond-flavored macaroons, or a sweet meringue-based confection. In Italy traditionally they're flavored with bitter almonds. Bitter almonds are a little dicey to use, as they contain forty-two times the amount of deadly cyanide than do their regular sweeter sibling. Because of this, bitter almonds aren't approved by the FDA in the U.S. So I only got to try the non-traditional, safer version.
Biscotti is a bit of a misleading name. In Italy it refers to cookies/biscuits as a whole, meaning it could refer to dozens of separate types. However, to Americans such as myself biscotti is synonymous with an Italian cookie called cantuccios. These are (again) almond-flavored, twice baked (to preserve longer), dry, crunchy biscuits. As with ladyfingers they're also often dipped in a drink to soften them up--traditionally a dessert wine called Vin Santo. Their history is even more murky--the place is known (the town of Prato, Italy), but the time period is nonspecific--the Middle Ages, or by most reckoning the years 400-1400 A.D. Antonio Mattei rediscovered an original recipe and reintroduced them in 1867. His ingredients consisted of eggs, flour, sugar, pine nuts, and unroasted, unskinned almonds. And no yeast or fat. Modern chefs sometimes use cinnamon, baking powder, pistachios, and anise. Other dipping drinks include orange juice, coffee, and tea.
1) Ladyfingers. These were roughly rectangular rods, about 4 inches (about 10 cm.) long, 2 cm. (about .75 inch) wide, a yellowish-brown color, with a white sugar coating. Very crunchy and incredibly bland. Disappointing. Dry and uninteresting.
2) Biscotti, cranberry flavor. Once again these were roughly rectangular-shaped, about 5 cm. by 2 cm. (about 2 inches by .75 inch), with a light brown exterior, and a whitish-yellow interior, offset by occasional visible pieces of cranberry. They looked unappetizing--like corners of stale bread. But, while dry and hard in texture, they're okay. Some sweetness and a nice cranberry tang to them. So solid overall.
3) Biscotti, chocolate flavor. Same size and shape as the cranberry kind, with the only difference being visible chocolate chips instead of cranberry pieces. Same dryness and hard texture, too. But once again, they were pretty good. Sweet enough, and the chocolate was a pleasing additive.
4) Amarettis. These were circular, about 3 cm. (about 1.25 inches) in diameter, and yellowish-brown in color. Strong almond flavor, which made sense since almonds are 20% of their makeup. Tasty. Weird, sweet flavor. Crunchy. Good.
As you can see, I enjoyed 3 out the 4 kinds. But the fourth one, the ladyfingers, was awful--one of the worst cookies I've ever had. To be fair, I didn't know about the standard process of dipping them into liquids to soften them up, and evidently improve the flavor. I guess it's possible that doing so might have made them palatable. (And if I'd dipped the cantuccios and amarettis, maybe I would have liked these even more.) But I have my doubts. I won't be buying ladyfingers again. I will probably buy the others, though, and would try those made by other companies or restaurants.
Saturday, June 2, 2018
Exotic/Disgusting Foods and Beverages Forum--Two Unusual Bananas
I know I often do this, but I strongly encourage readers to look over my August 24, 2014 post about plantains, since it covers a lot of information about bananas versus plantains, and my thoughts about bananas in general. With that in mind, I'll try not to repeat myself as much as is feasible.
Anyway, while at the Food Lion supermarket in central North Carolina the other day, I beheld some weird looking bananas. Specifically, red ones, and "baby" ones. It wasn't long before they were in my shopping cart. Both came from Ecuador.
As I touched on a bit in the plantain post, the classification of bananas is both complicated and somewhat controversial. Carl Linneus came up with a system back in 1753, and this was used for the next 200 years or so. However, in the late 1940's and 1950's scientists implemented some changes in this system, while some "OG" botanists and scientists still prefer the original Linneus plan. Long story short, the distinction between bananas and plantains is slight at best--much of it is based on how humans consume them--i.e. cook it as a starchy main course or side dish, or enjoy it raw as a dessert-type fruit. If you want more info, I encourage you to research this yourself, but be forewarned, it'll take quite a bit of time.
Accordingly, estimates of the total number of banana varieties range from 300 to over 1000. Some are yellow when ripe, while others are red, purple, green, or even brown. The world's biggest producers of bananas/plantains are India and China, with Ecuador in fourth place. The name "banana" itself is believed to have originated from the Wolof language, from a group of people who live in Senegal, The Gambia, and Mauritania. Their word is "banaana." (The Wolof language may also have given us the impetus for the words "yum" and "yummy," from their word "nyam"--evidently the "n" at the beginning is silent.) Also, my description of "unusual" for the red and baby bananas is based on my living in the U.S., where the yellow Cavendish (Dwarf Cavendish, to be exact) has been the most common type sold since the 1950's. Currently this type accounts for nearly half of the global banana production. In the first half of the 20th century or so, another variant, the Gros Michel, was the world banana king. Alas for it, Panama Disease devastated the plant, and the mostly resistant Cavendish took its place. It's thought that the Cavendish's days of prominence may be numbered too, though--its lack of genetic diversity means it's particularly susceptible to another disease or fungus. It could be wiped out rather quickly. (If you're curious, the Gros Michel banana variety is still grown, albeit in much smaller numbers. It's still prevalent in Malaysia and Thailand.) Furthermore, bananas are heralded as being THE best food source for potassium, but that's exaggerated. Some tomato sauces, cooked soybeans, grilled portabella mushrooms, baked potatoes, and spinach actually have more of this nutrient.
But here's what I thought:
1) Red banana: This was from the Dole company. It was slightly shorter than the average Cavendish, and maybe a little fatter. The outer rind was a deep reddish-purple, while the inner flesh was essentially the same as a regular Cavendish, being a cream or light yellow color. I thought it tasted basically the same as a Cavendish. I didn't do a blind taste test with a Cavendish as a control, but I doubt I would have noticed much of a difference. As I mentioned previously, I'm not a fan of bananas in general. Plus I think I have a minor allergy to them, since they sometimes give me a slight upset stomach/sore throat. Therefore, I was disappointed--I was hoping for a significant taste distinction, and received none. I won't be buying this one again. To be fair, maybe there is a difference if the red banana is cooked, but since I'm also not a fan of cooking, and am currently living in a hotel, this isn't going to happen.
2) Baby banana: As the name suggest, this one looks a tiny Cavendish, or a "Mini-Me" version. It's the same shape and yellowish-green color, but it's only 3-4 inches (about 7.5 to 10 cm.) long, and about an inch (about 2.5 cm.) in diameter. Alternate names for this variety are Ladyfinger and Pisang Mas. This came from the Del Monte company. Once again the taste was about the same as a regular Cavendish, much to my dismay. Maybe it was a tad sweeter, but not enough to matter. So I won't be purchasing this type again, either.
While I was reading up on red and baby bananas, other consumers stated that they thought they tasted sweeter, and/or had a "dense, creamy texture," with "vanilla and caramel undertones," and so on. Either these writers were a bit overly imaginative and pretentious, or my palate is dull and unrefined. (Or perhaps both.) But, all of this is coming from someone who admittedly doesn't like bananas much at all (but does, oddly, really enjoy plantains), so take this under consideration. If you really like this fruit, maybe you'll also appreciate different kinds of it. And maybe you'll even detect notes of creme brulee, toffee, and gossamer sugar in them.
Anyway, while at the Food Lion supermarket in central North Carolina the other day, I beheld some weird looking bananas. Specifically, red ones, and "baby" ones. It wasn't long before they were in my shopping cart. Both came from Ecuador.
As I touched on a bit in the plantain post, the classification of bananas is both complicated and somewhat controversial. Carl Linneus came up with a system back in 1753, and this was used for the next 200 years or so. However, in the late 1940's and 1950's scientists implemented some changes in this system, while some "OG" botanists and scientists still prefer the original Linneus plan. Long story short, the distinction between bananas and plantains is slight at best--much of it is based on how humans consume them--i.e. cook it as a starchy main course or side dish, or enjoy it raw as a dessert-type fruit. If you want more info, I encourage you to research this yourself, but be forewarned, it'll take quite a bit of time.
Accordingly, estimates of the total number of banana varieties range from 300 to over 1000. Some are yellow when ripe, while others are red, purple, green, or even brown. The world's biggest producers of bananas/plantains are India and China, with Ecuador in fourth place. The name "banana" itself is believed to have originated from the Wolof language, from a group of people who live in Senegal, The Gambia, and Mauritania. Their word is "banaana." (The Wolof language may also have given us the impetus for the words "yum" and "yummy," from their word "nyam"--evidently the "n" at the beginning is silent.) Also, my description of "unusual" for the red and baby bananas is based on my living in the U.S., where the yellow Cavendish (Dwarf Cavendish, to be exact) has been the most common type sold since the 1950's. Currently this type accounts for nearly half of the global banana production. In the first half of the 20th century or so, another variant, the Gros Michel, was the world banana king. Alas for it, Panama Disease devastated the plant, and the mostly resistant Cavendish took its place. It's thought that the Cavendish's days of prominence may be numbered too, though--its lack of genetic diversity means it's particularly susceptible to another disease or fungus. It could be wiped out rather quickly. (If you're curious, the Gros Michel banana variety is still grown, albeit in much smaller numbers. It's still prevalent in Malaysia and Thailand.) Furthermore, bananas are heralded as being THE best food source for potassium, but that's exaggerated. Some tomato sauces, cooked soybeans, grilled portabella mushrooms, baked potatoes, and spinach actually have more of this nutrient.
But here's what I thought:
1) Red banana: This was from the Dole company. It was slightly shorter than the average Cavendish, and maybe a little fatter. The outer rind was a deep reddish-purple, while the inner flesh was essentially the same as a regular Cavendish, being a cream or light yellow color. I thought it tasted basically the same as a Cavendish. I didn't do a blind taste test with a Cavendish as a control, but I doubt I would have noticed much of a difference. As I mentioned previously, I'm not a fan of bananas in general. Plus I think I have a minor allergy to them, since they sometimes give me a slight upset stomach/sore throat. Therefore, I was disappointed--I was hoping for a significant taste distinction, and received none. I won't be buying this one again. To be fair, maybe there is a difference if the red banana is cooked, but since I'm also not a fan of cooking, and am currently living in a hotel, this isn't going to happen.
2) Baby banana: As the name suggest, this one looks a tiny Cavendish, or a "Mini-Me" version. It's the same shape and yellowish-green color, but it's only 3-4 inches (about 7.5 to 10 cm.) long, and about an inch (about 2.5 cm.) in diameter. Alternate names for this variety are Ladyfinger and Pisang Mas. This came from the Del Monte company. Once again the taste was about the same as a regular Cavendish, much to my dismay. Maybe it was a tad sweeter, but not enough to matter. So I won't be purchasing this type again, either.
While I was reading up on red and baby bananas, other consumers stated that they thought they tasted sweeter, and/or had a "dense, creamy texture," with "vanilla and caramel undertones," and so on. Either these writers were a bit overly imaginative and pretentious, or my palate is dull and unrefined. (Or perhaps both.) But, all of this is coming from someone who admittedly doesn't like bananas much at all (but does, oddly, really enjoy plantains), so take this under consideration. If you really like this fruit, maybe you'll also appreciate different kinds of it. And maybe you'll even detect notes of creme brulee, toffee, and gossamer sugar in them.
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