I’ve been on a pretty severe yogurt kick lately. It’s really a perfect snack to bring to work, and is a relatively healthy choice. Yeah, I’m not thrilled with the amount of sugar in most of the yogurts available, but it’s certainly a better choice than a pint of ice cream. For a while I was addicted to Stonyfield Farm brand organic yogurt. It’s thick and creamy, and really delicious. I still love it, but I have recently made a new discovery.

As you probably know, I have a slight obsession with Whole Foods Market. I’m there … let’s just say I’m there often. One of the great things about Whole Foods is the enormous selection of yogurts. Whenever I shop for it I usually spend some time ogling all the different varieties before grabbing a few of the Stonyfield Farm containers (lemon is a recent favorite). It isn’t that I’m unadventurous, but all the fancy yogurt is a bit pricey (read: over a dollar per six ounce serving).

However, everything changed when a couple days ago I noticed that Chobani Greek style yogurt was on sale. I picked up a few to try them and I knew I was going to be in trouble — and I was right, I’m addicted. The Greek style yogurt is so thick and creamy, it’s impossible to resist. It’s sour and delicious, and plays really well with the fruit flavors (or even the honey flavor). Seriously, I think I’ve been averaging about two containers a day, and if I’m being completely honest, I paused midway through writing this post to have myself a delicious helping of pineapple flavored Chobani Greek style yogurt. It was awesome.

I’ve been complaining about the price of the fancy yogurt, but I came to the conclusion that I’m worth the few extra dimes that a really great yogurt costs. Now I just have to try some of the other fancy yogurts available at Whole Foods. Although, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to cheat on Chobani now that I’ve developed a severe addiction to the extra thick yogurt.

There’s no doubt that ham is a popular holiday dish. I have a little a secret to divulge to you, though: the Degon clan has never, ever served a ham on any occasion, let alone a special one. We are all total foodies and gourmands, but I have to tell you, none of us like ham. I never grew up associating ham with the holidays and therefore have no nostalgic attachment to the food. I don’t know, I guess you can call me crazy, but I just don’t get ham.

My sister, in particular, is a great hater of ham. I think for her it’s a texture thing, and I can totally understand that. There is something unnatural and a little creepy about the pop-in-your mouth texture. It is distinctly and uniquely ham-like, and most certainly not meat-like. It does creep me out. Even when I get ham from the deli (as I must admit I do enjoy a nice ham sandwich from time to time) I get it sliced as thin as possible, to mitigate any textural issues.

Even the taste of ham isn’t that compelling. If you want some smokey pig product, why not go for bacon? I mean is anyone really going to argue that Canadian bacon (which is really just ham, right?) is superior to good old, fat-filled American bacon? I can’t imagine. I would have to think that even if you’re a fan of ham, you would admit that bacon is better. I mean, it’s bacon for crying out loud! It’s just about the best food on the planet.

Maybe some of that ham-hate it is just perception. I mean, you can get ham in a can. That can’t be good, right? I mean, have you ever seen those canned hams? I’m only 75% sure they are actually food. Filet mignon does not come in a can. A nice roast turkey does not come in a can. Meat, aside from tuna fish, really shouldn’t come in a can.

Then, there is the age old problem that I am convinced is my father’s biggest problem with ham: what kind of wine do you serve with it? It’s too light for red wine, too heavy for white.

Alright ham-lovers, let me hear it. Why should I give ham another chance? What is it about the pink cured pork that drives you wild? Convince me I’m wrong!

Regular readers already know that I have a bit of an obsession with Whole Foods Market. Without exaggeration, I am there usually four to five times per week. It helps that it’s five minutes from my house and on my route home from the office.

I love Whole Foods, and could never stay mad at it, but recently it has gotten on my nerves. For the past couple weeks my local store has been completely re-arranging all the aisles and I can’t help but wonder why.

I never found the layout of the market to be confusing or inconvenient. The fact is, even it was inconvenient, regular shoppers learn where everything is after a few trips. I suppose there is some kind of marketing research into shopping habits and how the human brain works that determines exactly where every food item should be, but once you set up a store, you really should commit to it. Besides, it must be an incredible amount of work for the staff. I’m sure they are doing most of the work during the off hours, which means the store is probably doling out a whole lot of overtime pay. I just don’t get it.

Further, as near as I can tell (and the massive project is not yet complete), the store is just being flipped around. The freezer section seriously just moved the contents from one side of the aisle to the other. Could this possibly be of any use? I couldn’t see any drastic changes in the organization of products. It was simply a matter of moving the ice cream to the left and the front pizzas to the right (or vice verse if you’re approaching from the other direction). The rest of the aisles appear to be moving from one end of the store to another, with very little reorganization within the aisles themselves.

The irony of this all is that whenever I head to the checkout at my market, the cashiers have the habit of asking if I found everything that I was looking for. Since this big inventory shuffling started, no one has asked me that question. I think they’re afraid of the answer.

I love looking at recipes. I’ve been know to literally waste hours at a time browsing through recipes, looking for inspiration or just something delicious to make for dinner. I don’t think I could ever have too many cookbooks. They have beautiful pictures, are full of recipes, and can double as great coffee table books.

There are some gripes that I have with a lot of recipes, however. It’s really just a nitpick, but I don’t think I’m alone….

It seems like some recipe writers just have no common sense. I run into this problem much more in cookbooks than I do with online recipes. Here is my issue: I hate it when recipes list out ingredients in strict measurements when the ingredient itself comes in an easily measured form. What I mean is this: why can’t a recipe just call out one chopped medium onion (and many do), instead of one cup of chopped onions. How am I supposed to know what a cup of chopped onion looks like when it isn’t chopped yet?

The worst offender always seems to be cheese. I was making a mac and cheese dish a couple weeks ago and the recipe for the sauce included two cups of grated cheese. I tried eying what I thought would be two cups when it was broken down, but I wanted to make sure that I had enough. What I ended up with was more than twice as much cheese as I actually needed for the recipe. Many recipes list out the approximate weight or size of something, and I am appreciative of that, but they don’t make up for the recipes that don’t.

I’m not a restaurant. As much as I would love to have all that fancy cooking equipment and a kick ass kitchen, I don’t. As such, I also don’t have a sous chef and an endless supply of chopped onions and carrots. Thankfully, one thing I do have is The Better Homes and Gardens cookbook. You know the one: red plaid, has everything in it. One of my favorite features about the book is the little page in the front that gives equivalents between whole foods and measurements. Just a quick check and I can be sure that I’m buying the right amount of onions to fill up that cup.

I consider myself a good cook. Sure, I’m still young and I have a lot of room to grow, but at the end of the day, I can put together some nice meals. So, it is with great embarrassment that I admit that I have had three fires in my kitchen in as many weeks. Seriously, I don’t know what I’m doing, but it seems like every time I turn around, something is bursting into flames.

The first I blame on the weather. It was a snowy weekend here in the northeast and I had a hankering to make some chicken parmesan. There was only one thing standing in my way: I didn’t have any breadcrumbs. I could have sworn that I had some panko in my pantry, and I did, but it turned out that they were very old, very, very old. There was one option left and I thought it was a slam dunk: I had a whole package of leftover pita bread that I wasn’t going to eat. I figured that I could toast it up and throw it in the food processor — instant bread crumbs.

The plan started out working well. I threw a pita into my toaster oven and let that puppy get nice and brown. I set the toaster oven to dark and when it dinged, I was slightly disappointed; the bread was barely toasted and needed some more time. Now here is where it gets interesting. I swear, I turned my back for approximately one minute and when I checked on the pita it was on fire. Literally, a piece of bread had spontaneously burst into flames. The scientist in me was secretly amazed and a little proud at this. The cook was mortified.

The second fire came just last night. I had hosted a New Year’s Eve party, and I had cooked up a few stromboli. I knew that they were going to make a mess in my oven, and I was right. While cooking, all the delicious pizza-filling leaked out of the dough and created a couple of large mounds of burnt cheese and sauce on the bottom of my oven. Of course, I forgot to clean it up and when I turned my oven on last night, they started burning. I didn’t notice at first, but then my eye caught the gently glowing light through the oven window. One of the blobs had caught fire during my oven preheat and was slowly (and controllably) burning. There was nothing that I could really do, so I cracked a window, plastic-wrapped my smoke detector (don’t try that one at home, kids) and let it burn off.

I thought I was fine. My house was relatively smoke free and I was ready to throw my dinner in the oven. It was then that I noticed that the second pile of goo had burst into flame. Well, after that smoke had cleared, I was able to cook my meal, and I think I’m going to be fire free for a while.

Have you ever set your kitchen on fire?

I’m deep into mourning now that Thanksgiving is more than a week behind us. It’s my favorite day of the year and now I have to wait 50 more weeks until the next glorious Thanksgiving feast. This year at my family celebration more than one of us openly wondered why we only do a huge turkey feast once a year (we never have turkey for Christmas). Turkey is delicious, yet I, like so many other Americans, relegate the poor bird to one meal a year.

The real travesty in my mind, however, is that I don’t get stuffing more often.

Stuffing is delicious. My father’s stuffing, or dressing as we call it because it isn’t stuffed in anything, is the best I’ve ever had. It’s chock full of delicious fall flavors including thyme and sage, and four (yes, four) different meats. He uses the classic beef, veal, and pork combination and then adds in some ground turkey just to be cute. It is Thanksgiving, after all.

With sage being one of my favorite flavors, it should come as no surprise that I love dressing. While it may be a little unrealistic to have an entire Thanksgiving feast more than once per year, I think we definitely need to work dressing into more meals. Why does it have to be solely for birds? Heck, I don’t know anyone who actually uses it to stuff the bird anymore. It’s pretty gross and not very sanitary. Let’s change the conventional wisdom and start finding other places to serve dressing.

This year, I’m making it my goal. My family has lots of cookouts during the summer. Why don’t we have a big steaming crock of dressing? It would go great with some burgers and hot dogs. Heck, stuffing is so good that I don’t think it even needs a special occasion. With meat, bread, and some mirepoix (onions, carrots, and celery) it’s practically a whole meal in and of itself. One of these days I think I’m going to cook myself a batch of stuffing and eat it for dinner. Maybe tomorrow….

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. Hands down. No contest. I love all the food, the great times with family (without the stress of having to worry about presents), and the football. I love the turkey, the stuffing, the potatoes, the vegetables, the pies. I love it all.

One of my fondest memories of Thanksgiving is making sandwiches out of all the leftover food. In my family, we wouldn’t even wait until the next day, we would make sandwiches around eight in the evening, after dessert. It seems like in recent years, the Thanksgiving sandwich has become more and more popular, and why shouldn’t it? It’s delicious.

I’ve noticed the Thanksgiving sandwich popping up in more and more places. From local sub shops, to pubs and restaurants, even fast food places have started to feature the Thanksgiving (even D’Angelo has one). Each sandwich has subtle variations, but they are essentially the same: turkey, cranberry sauce, and stuffing in-between some bread. One of my coworkers swears that there has to be gravy for it to be a true Thanksgiving, but I don’t think it’s a necessity.

For me, the beauty of the Thanksgiving sandwich really comes from the stuffing. It’s all about the stuffing. I haven’t been shy about the fact that sage is one of my favorite herbs and it’s traditionally found in stuffing. Add to that the sweet and tart flavor of the cranberry sauce, and you have yourself a very delicious sandwich.

There’s something more to the sandwich, though. It’s not just about tasting good, there is some nostalgia at work. I can’t eat a Thanksgiving sandwich without getting a warm feeling inside, as I’m flooded with memories of Thanksgivings past and all the delicious food they contained.

Are you a fan of the Thanksgiving sandwich too?

Just the other day an e-mail found its way into my inbox, advertising the new prix fixe menu at one of my favorite local restaurants. Somehow, I’m always excited when I get mail like this, but I’m not quite sure why. After all, prix fixe menus sort of take away all the great parts about eating out. With a prix fixe menu, you don’t get to choose whatever you want, you don’t get to control what courses you are served, and sometimes you don’t even get to pick the wine out!

Yet, there is something really appealing about a prix fixe menu and all the things it does offer.

I don’t know if it’s just the glutton in me, but there is something romantic and fun with a long multicourse meal. Perhaps it’s because it isn’t offered everywhere all the time, but the multicourse prix fixe does have a certain novelty about it. Also, I love that there are multiple courses, usually in smaller portions. I’m one of those eaters that likes lots of different flavors, but in generally small quantities. I always go back to chef Charlie Trotter who I remember saying that the perfect dish should be two bites.

Of course, like any dish or ingredient, the prix fixe really depends on quality. There can be good prix fixe meals and bad ones. I find that the good ones have smaller portions. There’s nothing worse than going to a prix fixe and only being able to get through half of the courses before you’re stuffed to the gills. I like to at least have room for the obligatory soufflé or creme brulee that seem to be always be the dessert option.

Also, they should seem like a good value. Too often, I’ve felt completely ripped off. There’s nothing worse than when you sign up for a five course dinner and one of the courses ends up being the amuse bouche that everyone in the restaurant gets for free, and one course is the sorbet pallet cleanser. That’s not really five courses, that’s three.

With all that being said, I still get excited at the thought of going for a prix fixe. After all, it’s not an everyday experience and because of that, it makes me feel special.

So I was sitting in the cafeteria in my place of business this afternoon eating lunch when one of my coworkers came in, heated up his lunch and began eating it. This is a common enough occurrence, but there was something different this day. Indeed, my coworker heated up the most delicious smelling confection that I have smelled in a long, long time. It turned out to be an apple kugel, and it smelled like a fresh baked cinnamon bun, only more delectable.

As I was eating my own lunch, I wondered if it would be appropriate to say something.

I don’t know about you, but it always annoys me slightly when someone takes a little too much interest in my lunch. “Hey, something smells good in here!” they say as they start sniffing around, eyeing my food. Next thing you know, it’s the lunch time third degree: “What’s that? Where’d you get it? Did you it make it yourself? Really? You cook?” So on and so forth. Perhaps it’s just my antisocial tendencies, but really, I want to eat my lunch, not talk about it for an hour.

When food smells good it’s one thing, but I really can’t stand it when someone feels the need to disparage someone else’s meal because it doesn’t smell very good. In fact, I find it downright rude. So what if someone heated fish up in the microwave. It’s their right, deal with it. Don’t be the jerk who goes around saying thing like: “Oh god, are you really going to eat that, it smells horrible?” There’s just no need for that.

Of course, there are extremes. I used to work with a fine gentleman who had an unnatural fondness for Kimchi. If you’re not familiar with the spicy, fermented cabbage dish native to Korea, then you aren’t aware of just how … pungent it is. Now, I never complained when he opened his huge jar of kimchi in the cafeteria, but I couldn’t really blame other people for yelling at him. There comes a point where the rudeness of food criticism is eclipsed by the rudeness of the food itself. To his credit, my former coworker usually kept the kimchi eating sequestered to his office.

So what do you think? What is the food aroma decorum for the office?

I had a revelation this week. For years now I’ve been working under the assumption that I just don’t like apples. I think it had a little something to do with listening to one too many people chomping loudly on an apple in the office or classroom. There’s something about the “crunch, slurp, chew” of people eating the fruit that really drives me nuts. Aside from that small fact, it seemed like every apple I ate was either too tart or too mealy or the skin was too thick.

So what happened? I was wandering around Whole Foods, as I tend to do four or five times a week, and saw Honeycrisp apples. I had never heard of the cultivar before. Luckily the market had samples out and I decided to try it. Holy moly, my world was blown! I actually like apples!

The Honeycrisp is sweet and juicy and crisp. It’s everything that an apple should be (as long as you don’t love your apples cheek-puckeringly tart). Needless to say, I bought a bunch of the apples and have been enjoying them all week.

The conclusion that I have drawn from this experience is that there are far too many types of apples available for consumption. There are red apples, green apples, big apples, little apples, eating apples, baking apples… too many apples! I think as a society we tend to enjoy choice, but there are times that we get out of control. Do we really need ten different types of band aids? Sixty three different kinds of deodorant? It just seems out of control.

I think it’s almost insane that it has taken me twenty seven years to discover the Honeycrisp. I have eaten Red Delicious, McIntosh, Granny Smith, Fuji, Gala, Baldwin, Golden Delicious, and others, but it took the Honeycrisp for me to really love an apple. I suppose it’s about time!

What’s your favorite type of apple?

Yes, that’s a strange title for a post, and you may be wondering what the heck I’m talking about. Well, it’s really as simple as that: concord grapes smell pretty revolting. There are lots of grape vines growing in my backyard and when the weather starts to turn a little cool, the scent of grapes is heavy on the air, and let me tell you, it’s gross.

Wikipedia describes the grapes as “highly aromatic,” which I find to be pretty comical. Let me see if I can do any justice to this odor. First off, it does indeed smell like grapes, but boy is it strong. It is a sickeningly, cloyingly sweet stench that really turns my stomach. Perhaps it’s just that it reminds me so much of my “grape flavored” treatments of fluoride that I got as a child at the dentist’s office. As horrid as those were, at least I can say that I am 27 years old and cavity-free.

I would be a little more tolerant of the stench if these grapes had some use. You can’t make any good wine with them, and they are not great for eating. They have incredibly thick skin that has to be removed, which is creepy in and of itself, and then they’re just… not worth eating. Yes, they are used to make grape juice and jelly, but again, I tend to get bad flashbacks of the dentist’s office when I try to consume either of those things.

Does anyone else suffer from the scourge of concord grapes growing in their lawns? Or… do you like the smell?

With summer quickly turning to fall, I find my cravings following suit, moving away from the grilled meats and vegetables of summer to the in-the-oven, slow cooked meals of fall and winter.For me that usually means one thing: braising.

I love braising, I think it’s the ultimate method of cooking. You can take just about any cut of meat, sear it, and throw it into a pool of braising liquid and let it simmer away slowly for hours on end. It’s a great way to warm your house and fill it full of delicious aromas as your meal cooks away.

Sure, braising takes some time. It’s not something you can whip up and have on the table in a half hour, but sometimes good things take time. I love lazy Sundays in the fall when I can braise a pot full of chicken thighs, or some beef, my whole house smelling of herbs and wine as I watch football all day. Is there anything better than that? I’m not so sure.

One of the huge benefits of braising is that it is tailor made to improve tougher, cheaper cuts of meat, so you save money! By cooking it slowly in liquid, the tough connective tissue breaks down and tenderizes the meat. If you’ve braised everything properly, the meat should fall apart with very little coaxing. I love that moment when you open up the pot, aroma wafting out in a puff of steam. You reach in with tongs, grab a piece of chicken, or beef, or veal, or pork, or lamb and as you lift it from the pot it literally falls apart from the weight of itself, shredding into delicious, tender little pieces.

Clearly, I like to braise. My favorite thing to slow cook, though, is definitely chicken thighs. There’s something about the way the chicken falls apart, how it soaks up the flavor of the braising liquid more than any other meat.

The other great thing about braising is that it’s so easy. You don’t even need a recipe. Sear the meat, dump it in a pot with some wine, or stock, or both, maybe some tomatoes and juice, season it to taste with lots of herbs and whack it in the oven. It’s really as simple as that. Let it simmer away for hours and deliciousness will await you.

I know I’ve been a bit whiny in this space lately, and it’s not going to change this week. Sorry. It’s just that there’s been this recent trend in food that I don’t understand. It has totally changed the landscape that was familiar for so long.

You see, it used to be that when I ordered a submarine sandwich, I would wait for just a few minutes as the happy sandwich worker would slap it together and hand it to me. Oh, how times have changed. It seems that no matter where I go and what I order, everyone wants to toast my sandwich in the oven.

I blame Quiznos for this paradigm shift. It seems that they started this “toasted sub” revolution. Before Quiznos everyone was happy enough with their cold sandwiches, and gosh darn it, that’s the way I liked it! Egads, I’m starting to sound like an angry old man.

In any case, it seems like everyone loves their subs toasted now, so much so that I have to make sure to specify that I want mine cold whenever I order a sandwich somewhere. Am I the only one who doesn’t love a toasted sub? The strange thing is that I can’t put my finger on why, exactly, I don’t like the toasted sub.

I think it has something to do with fat. I feel like when all those horrible-for-me deli meats are piled up on a cold sandwich the fat content is somewhat hidden. I can eat it and pretend like I’m not shaving weeks off my life. When it’s toasted, however, all the grease and oil bubbles up to the surface, waving at me from the sandwich, screaming out: “I’m bad for you!’

There’s also the mayo factor. I love mayo on a sub. Now, I know I have yelled at all the mayo-haters before, but I have to admit that hot mayonnaise is a pretty heinous thought. There’s just something about the condiment that makes it really gross when it’s hot. Even thinking about it right now is turning my stomach.

Granted, it’s really not a big deal for me to just specify that I want my sandwich cold, but I’m genuinely curious about this issue. Do you prefer toasted subs? If so, why?

Commence rant.

Alright, I have a bone to pick. There is something that’s been gnawing at me for a while and this past weekend it finally came to a head. I was browsing the internet, looking for appetizer recipes trying to find something that I could bring to a cookout. I kept going back and forth between my favorite two recipe websites: Epicurious and Food Network.

I was consistently discouraged, because I was making one vital mistake in my search for the perfect recipe: I was reading the online reviews and comments.

Now, as a blogger, I love comments and commenters. Seriously, I didn’t even realize just how amazing it would be to get comments until I started doing this whole blogging thing. Now, they are like crack to me. I don’t even have a problem with all the people spreading negativity over the web in blog comments. I’m pretty much doing it in this post, so I don’t want to be a big hypocrite. What I do have a problem with is people who decide to make a recipe, change ingredients or don’t follow instructions, and then completely slam it in the comments and reviews.

Being a notorious recipe doctorer myself, I don’t blame people for tweaking recipes to their own liking. I do, however, have a problem when they do this and then decry the recipe as a bad one. It seems like every recipe I went to had comments from people who thought the recipe was just horrible, the worst one they had ever tried… oh, and by the way, they substituted five ingredients, baked something that was supposed to be grilled, and left out another two ingredients. It’s great that people want to voice their opinions, but really, until you learn how to follow a recipe, I don’t want to read yours.

I found myself falling into the trap of dismissing countless recipes because of something one commenter said. Finally, I let my normally over-inflated ego take charge and decided that I know better than any of these anonymous cooks.

In closing, I would like to encourage everyone to try recipes that they find online, and by all means, please leave a comment. If you leave out some ingredients, though, or skip steps, keep your opinion to yourself.

End rant. Sorry.

Risotto is awesome. Is that news? I was making a steaming pot of it this past weekend, thinking about just how awesome it really is. It’s a great comfort food: it’s hot, creamy, soul-satisfying, and definitely sticks to your ribs. I think it might just be the greatest food for the single folk. There’s something nourishing in standing over the stove, stirring the gooey rice. I feel like risotto is something you can curl up with in the couch, eating it right out of the pot you cooked it in. It’s like food and a friend.

There’s more to risotto than the comfort, though. I love it because it’s so versatile. The rice, slowly cooked in broth to bring out the natural starches, is a great flavor and texture base. There is no end to the things that you can add to risotto. You can chop and saute vegetables (from peas and carrots, to zucchini, mushrooms, or even broccoli) and stir them in at the end.Or, you can even add various meats, like prosciutto or grilled chicken. Just about any fresh herb can really add a punch to your risotto. One of my favorite variations uses tomato sauce and a little cream to make a luxurious pink rice. Risotto can serve as a great side dish, or it can be an entire meal in and of itself. You have to appreciate that.

Sure, it’s not the easiest or fastest dish to make. Risotto takes a whole lot of love to make right, cooking it slowly and constantly stirring it to make sure all the natural starches make it creamy and delicious. All that effort pays off in a big way though. I think that a lot of the best food takes some love and attention. Sure, some people say that you can make risotto in the slow cooker, but it seems like sacrilege to me.

If your appetite is whetted for risotto now, you can check out this recipe for mushroom, prosciutto and fresh pea risotto.

Alright. I’ve had it. I am sick and tired of being surrounded in my life by mayonnaise haters. It seems like everywhere I turn there is another person cursing this wonderful condiment. It’s particularly hard this time of year, when I want to have delicious mayonnaise-y food when I go to a cookout: pasta salad, potato salad, coleslaw, etc. However, I have a sister and an aunt who won’t touch the stuff, so I have to suffer through vinegary coleslaw and dry potato salad.

To be fair, my family is pretty much full of food snobs, so when we do have a cookout, the salads and slaws are always delicious, even if they are mayo free. Sometimes, though, they just don’t hit the spot like a creamy mayo-laden dish would.

I guess I just don’t understand all the hate. When you get right down to it, mayo is fairly innocuous, a subtle yet delicate condiment that can add just the right bite to any dish. It’s really just eggs and vinegar. Personally, I think that many people have had too much of that “light” mayonnaise from the super market and they’re turned off. I don’t really blame them. Even though I grew up on the light stuff, and would still eat it today, it isn’t really mayonnaise. It’s sort of like trying Cool Whip, disliking it, and then swearing off all whipped cream. It’s really not the same thing.

Then there are the folks who claim they hate mayonnaise, but love garlic aiolis. Guess what kids? Do you know what aioli is? It’s mayonnaise! If you like aioli, you like mayonnaise. I hate to be the one to tell you, but it’s true. Deal with it.

Personally, I love mayonnaise. I think it is one of those ingredients that makes just about anything else better. I really don’t know how anyone can eat tuna from a can without the stuff. In fact, just about any sandwich becomes more moist and delicious with the addition of a little mayo. Sometimes you want something that will highlight the other flavors subtly instead of taking over a sandwich like mustard or another strong flavored condiment can.

Who’s with me? Who else is willing to sing the praises of mayo?

Firstly, Julia was a kickass chef. She studied in France, like all world class chefs seem to do, and she was a master of just about anything in the kitchen. From omelets to beef bourguignon, the lady could do it all. Not only that, but she made everything look easy. Heck, her kitchen is in the Smithsonian now!

Secondly, Julia is pretty much responsible for the success of cooking shows on television. She definitely popularized the genre and paved the way for all the great future TV chefs. Without Julia Child, I don’t think there would be a Jacques Pepin, Emeril Lagasse, or Bobby Flay. I know I have a lot of fond memories watching The French Chef with my dad on the weekends. I think a lot of my love of cooking stemmed from those lazy Sunday afternoons watching cooking shows when I was just a youngster.

Then, as if Julia weren’t cool enough, news broke a few years back that she was a spy. That’s right, super chef just wasn’t enough, she was a frickin’ spy, people! Of course, that makes me imagine that she was running through the streets beating up bad guys, Sydney Bristow-style, when in fact that (probably) didn’t happen. Nonetheless, there aren’t that many people who can say they were a spy.

Join me in basking in Julia’s awesomeness as she manhandles some omelets like they just stole some secret papers from the vault.

Let me be clear: by “stupid” steakhouse, I pretty much mean every steakhouse… ever. Don’t get me wrong, I love meat, I’m not going vegetarian now or anytime soon. I have no problem going out to a nice restaurant and ordering a big piece of steak. In fact, I love to do it, especially if it’s dry aged or some kind of game meat. I’m particularly fond of elk.

So… at this point you are probably wondering what my problem is. Shouldn’t I be a huge fan of steakhouses, then? Well, to that I say one simple thing: “No. They are stupid.”

Let me get a little more specific, because while I wish “it is stupid” were good enough for me to always prove my point, I have slowly learned that this is not always the case. When it comes to steakhouses, there are a few problems. For one, they are usually really expensive. I know that you are paying for a really nice piece of meat, but all too often that is the only thing you are paying for. There is a distinct lack of creativity in most steakhouses I’ve visited. A meal usually just consists of a piece of meat, cooked how you like it (and some can’t even get that right).

Would you like something to go with your steak? I don’t know many people who enjoy having a big piece of beef for dinner with nothing else. Well, at the traditional steakhouse this will cost you extra, and sides usually come “family style,” meaning you are forced to buy a monster plate of steamed broccoli or mashed potatoes to go with your overpriced steak. This is both inconvenient and hard on the wallet.

Frankly, I’d much rather pay out the nose to get a nice creative meal. I don’t know about you, but oftentimes I decide what to order based on what the side dishes are. You can throw whatever you want on a bed of lobster risotto and I would eat it. Garlic braised bok choi? Sign me up, I don’t care what else comes with it. My point here is that a meal should be something that is put together meticulously and with loving detail. Each separate part should play off the others, forming a complete and well-rounded flavor palette. Sticking some potatoes on a plate with a dripping steak just doesn’t accomplish this.

Now… I wouldn’t really have a problem with the concept of a steakhouse, except for the fact that so many people seem to think it is the highest form of dining. Really? Whenever I travel for business people just want to “go out and get a steak!” There are some amazing restaurants around the country. Why is it that I inevitably seem to be the only one who is looking for a culinary adventure, not just a ticket on the fast track to colon cancer?

Certainly I can’t be alone with this line of thinking, right? Oh well, I suppose these are the burdens that I must deal with as a complete food snob.

I have a problem, a serious problem. I can’t stop buying Le Creuset cookware.

Alright, I suppose it’s not really that much of a problem. My wallet may argue otherwise, but at least I know all the beautiful enamel-covered cast iron cookware is going to last forever. I just sometimes wonder how many other single 27 year-old males get all tingly when they head to the Le Creuset outlet. Just me?

Here is the real problem: I live about 10 minutes from a Le Creuset outlet. I have totally been brainwashed by this place. How can I walk in there (just to look around, mind you), end up spending over 200 dollars, and still feel like I got the greatest bargain in the world? Well, for starters, I really did get the greatest bargain. That’s what I love about the outlet store. To start with, everything is discounted. Then, they always have a ton of stuff on sale. I’m not talking little 5-10% sales. I got a brand new tagine for 50% off! That’s half off, people. Half! I was also thrilled to discover that the large grill pan I had been lusting after for a few months was on sale too.

Then, like any great dealer of narcotics, those evil women behind the counter did the unthinkable. They gave me a coupon for 40% off my next purchase. That’s one hell of a coupon. Now, I’m doomed to head back within a month (before the coupon expires) and drop another big wad of cash.

At the end of the day, though, the Le Creuset is worth it. I have yet to find anyone who has anything bad to say about the cookware. It’s supremely versatile, has great heat distribution, and is practically non-stick due to the enamel coating. It’s also super easy to clean. Add to that the bright, lively colors and nothing can top a Le Creuset pot or pan.

I think my favorite piece is the braiser. It’s great for just about everything: I’ve used it to sear meat, sauté veggies, and you can even bake in it! I think my favorite thing to use it for, though, is to make a bolognese sauce. You can sear all the meat in it, deglaze the pan (which the enamel coating helps out with), and then pop it into the oven to braise. It may just be the perfect pan.

I think I need to give you a little perspective on just how serious my sickness is. I dream about Le Creuset. Seriously, when I got mail announcing that my color blue was being discontinued I was furious, and I had several dreams about going to the outlet store only to discover that it was all a horrible mistake. Well, it wasn’t a mistake, but the new blue that they are introducing is almost exactly the same. I really can’t tell a difference.

It’s only a matter of time now until I head back to the store to pick up that sexy little 7.5 quart dutch oven I’ve been eyeing. She will be mine. Oh, yes. She will be mine.

I am a proud, self professed food snob; this isn’t news. The sad fact is that I had no chance. I was born the son of a food snob and the flag was passed down to me at an early age. I think it might even be genetic; I’m just waiting for the scientists to pinpoint the gene. Sadly, it’s way down on the list, after the gene responsible for loud sneezing, but before the gene for droopy ear lobes.

In any case, food snobbery may be a slightly incorrect term, or at the very least incomplete. You see, my food snobbery doesn’t just stop with food. No, no. In fact, I may be even more of an alcohol snob than I am a food snob.

I’m not a huge fan of beer. There are some beers I really like. Who can say no to a big frothy beer milkshake that they call Guinness Stout? Those watered down swill beers (Bud, Miller, etc, etc), they just don’t do anything for me. Unfortunately a lot of those fancy microbrews don’t do anything for me either. The fact is I just can’t stand a really bitter beer. At this point in my life my snobbery has almost taken over completely and I pass on the beer and just head straight to the wine.

Ah wine. Delicious, delicious wine. I blame my father for this too, as I grew up in a house where very nice wine was always served. I know people who can enjoy the heck out of a really cheap bottle of wine. Myself, I live by a simple motto: “Life is too short to drink cheap wine.” My wallet wishes that I could settle for a bottle of Two Buck Chuck (which is actually three bucks here on the east coast), but it’s just not going to happen. I’ve been raised to be such a wine snob, in fact, that I can’t look at bottle of Merlot without sneering (I’ve had to explain that joke from Sideways so many times to people).

If it stopped with wine I might be okay. Unfortunately when my friends are all ordering sugary mixed drinks like Captain and Coke, I’m ordering Manhattans or a glass of single malt scotch or some expensive cognac. In fact, I clearly recall a time in middle school when we were reading a story aloud in class. My teacher couldn’t believe that I knew how to correctly pronounce “cognac” and I think she was legitimately concerned for my well being. I was fine… just a food snob in training.

Eggplant.

I don’t dislike eggplant, really I don’t. Just about everyone in my life thinks that I hate the purple vegetable, but it’s just not true. It may have something to do with the fact that I avoid most dishes that are cooked with eggplant. Eggplant parmesan? I don’t touch it. Moussaka? None for me thanks. Some sliced, grilled eggplant? I just can’t do it.

The answer is simple if you haven’t figured it out already: I’m allergic to eggplant… kinda….

I say kinda because I don’t go into anaphylactic shock or anything that serious. It’s more of a nuisance allergy, as the roof of my mouth gets raw and peels. It’s fairly unpleasant, definitely enough to keep me away from eggplant.

The weird part about it all is that, as I said before, I don’t dislike eggplant. Back when I used to eat it, I really enjoyed it. It’s a really interesting and versatile vegetable. Let’s face facts: I would eat just about anything if it were fried and doused in marinara sauce and mozzarella cheese. Thank goodness there is chicken and veal parmesan to get me through those tough times.

I really can’t explain why just about everyone in my life refuses to believe this allergy. I don’t know if they believe I’m making it up because I don’t really like eggplant (you know, like Debbie and mayonnaise). Can it be that they just all forget about it? That seems a little too convenient to believe, and I’m a paranoid conspiracy theorist, so I much rather believe that everyone just thinks I’m a big liar. The only problem with that is that I’m not a liar… in this instance. I really do have a reaction to eggplant.

Does anyone else have this problem? Am I completely alone here? Have I possibly misdiagnosed myself? I haven’t tried eggplant in a while now because, well, it’s just not worth it.

I suffer from a serious addiction. Alright, so maybe it’s not that serious, but it’s an addiction nonetheless. I am completely and utterly reliant on Whole Foods Market. I have no idea what I would do without it. The sad truth is (and I am not even kidding in the least): a huge part of deciding to buy the condo that I currently own was its proximity to Whole Foods. Literally, it’s two minutes down the street. Close enough that I can go twice a day (and sometimes I do) and not feel bad about it. Even better — it’s on my way home from the office, so I can stop and pick up something for dinner on those lazy non-cooking nights.

I’ve talked before about why I love Whole Foods so much. The meat selection is outstanding, there is always fresh produce, exotic mushrooms, and an insane cheese department. For me, though, it’s the small value-added things that really drive me back. I’m not averse to taking shortcuts in cooking. I’m certainly no Sandra Lee, thank god, but who can argue with a nice pre-chopped package of broccoli? It’s fresh, washed, and ready to go. It may be a small thing, but I appreciate having some of the work done for me, and if I can avoid taking out a cutting board and knife (two things I would then have to clean), all the better. I’m also a big fan of the stir-fry packs, which combine multiple fresh chopped veggies. When you’re cooking for one, it’s nice to be able to get a variety of vegetables without having to buy a huge amount of them.

I find myself stopping in at my Whole Food 3-4 times per week. I have a clinical inability to plan meals ahead of time. Luckily, I can pop in after a long day and hit the salad bar, or buy some other delicious (and all-natural, which is always nice to know) prepared food. Of course, it doesn’t really help my cooking inspiration. In fact, I’ve found myself stopping so often to pick something up recently, that I can really commiserate with Molly.

Now the downside. Yes, Whole Foods is expensive. They can try to convince you otherwise all they want, but the fact is that you pay top dollar for top quality food. Being a complete food snob, I’m willing to do this. I have my priorities straight. I may shiver in my living room during the winter, setting my heat to 60, but I don’t think twice about buying 20.00 dollar per pound beef or 10.00 packs of sushi.

Recently most of my trips have resulted in the purchase of a blob of pizza dough (available in three flavors: white, wheat, and the quite excellent multigrain). Whole Foods makes it so easy with fresh packed tubs of shredded mozzarella and pizza sauce right there on the shelves. All I have to do is grab some toppings from the produce section or from the selection of pepperonis and sausages and I have a super easy (and delicious) meal. With the addition of my brand new pizza pan, I just can’t stop making pizzas.

And don’t get me started on the bakery. They have fantastic chocolate chip cookies and equally life-changing oatmeal raisin. Oh, and the pre-made burgers… bacon and cheddar built right into the patty. It’s genius. Oh, Oh, Oh! I can’t forget to mention the house-made roast beef in the deli, or the selection of delicious soups, or the… well, you get the picture.

Is this really news? I’m not sure if it’s come through from my posts yet, but I am indeed a food snob — a huge food snob. If it isn’t obvious, I do all my grocery shopping at my local Whole Foods Market (or as some of my friends have dubbed it, “Whole Paycheck”). I haven’t eaten fast food since I was in high school. I have never eaten at a Taco Bell. Growing up, I never once had macaroni and cheese from a box (in fact, I can’t remember my mother ever making macaroni and cheese). I have subscriptions to three cooking magazines. I… am a food snob.

I love my Whole Foods. I don’t have a hang up about eating organic produce and I don’t demand that my meat come from non-antibiotic, cage-free, roaming, grass-fed, lovingly cared for animals. Frankly, I’ve never really cared about animal rights. Call me a monster, but I don’t care what they do to that cow as long as I get to eat it’s tasty, tasty meat. So, while a lot of the normal draw of Whole Foods doesn’t really apply to me, tasty meat is a huge part of why I love Whole Foods. It’s not every market that sells dry aged beef, prime grade meat, or a wide selection of buffalo steaks.

Whole Foods also has a great selection of quality prepared foods, baked goods, and a cheese counter that could make any fromage-head weep. As part of my food snobbery I have no problem dropping a significant chunk of money at the Whole Foods Market. In fact, I get a perverse kind of joy buying a bunch of chanterelle or morel mushrooms (fresh, mind you) for $29.99 per pound. A tiny vial of truffle olive oil for $14.99? I’m so there. Real vanilla beans for $10.99. You bet.

As for the fast food, I just can’t eat it. My sensitive snobby belly just can’t handle all that grease. Besides, it never tastes as good as it smells, and boy does it smell good. In any case, once you decide to give it up, it isn’t that hard.

I blame my parents for my food snobbery. As I mentioned, I was never served macaroni and cheese out of a box while growing up. In fact, I’m not sure that I ever had a meal out of a box. I started my life as a spoiled child, getting high quality home cooked meals every night. It made me into the snob I am today. Now, I’m not saying that I eat gourmet every night. I can slum it with the best of them, but when push comes to shove, I can also stick my nose up in the air like it’s nobody’s business.

I love sushi. I love the rice, I love the fish, I love the wasabi. I love the big beautiful plates they serve it on. I love the pickled ginger. I love chopsticks, miso soup, and seaweed salad. I. Love. Sushi. Look at those beautiful slices of salmon up there… Oddly enough, salmon is easily my favorite sushi, but I can’t stand the fish when it’s cooked.

Back to the matter at hand, however: I’m in a bit of a pickle. I have nowhere close by my house that provides good sushi. It’s easy to get mediocre and even bad sushi, but the raw fish is way too expensive to indulge in if it’s not really worth eating in the first place. There is a Japanese teppanyaki place close by, and they do have a sushi bar, but it’s pretty terrible. I went once and haven’t been back since.

Oddly enough there is a large family style Italian restaurant a few miles away from my house that recently installed a sushi bar. I’ve been once or twice and the sushi is actually pretty good, but there is just something so creepy and wrong about eating sushi next to a table of people scarfing big bowls of pasta and meatballs. Plus, it seems like half the time I show up with a hankering for some raw fish, the sushi bar is closed.

These days when I have the urge in indulge my habit, I have to find someone to travel with me, or I go to the local Whole Foods Market, which actually has very good sushi for a super market. Oh, how I love you Whole Foods.

I consider this conundrum to be a bit of a mixed blessing though. You see, I have the incredible ability to consume massive quantities of sushi at one time. You may not believe me, but more than once I have made my waiter or waitress giggle in wonderment at the huge sushi boat full of fish and rice and then proceeded to eat every last bite. Needless to say, this appetite can be pretty hard on my wallet. I’m afraid that if I had really good sushi in close proximity, I would go broke. It would be such a delicious way to blow my money, though. Alas, it is not to be.

They say that smell is the sense that is most strongly linked to memory. I have no idea whether or not it’s true, but I do know that a familiar or pleasant smell can bring me an enormous amount of comfort. I swear, the viewership of the Food Network would probably triple with the advent of smell-o-vision. Can you imagine being able to smell all the delicious baked goods in Ina Garten’s kitchen, or the grilling meat from Bobby Flay’s rooftop? If only….

In any case, some of my favorite aromas in the world come from the kitchen, and they aren’t always the obvious ones….

These are some of the odors of the kitchen that I can’t get enough of:

• Onions and garlic sauteing: It’s hard to beat the wafting aroma of garlic and onions sizzling away in a hot pan. Whether in garlic or olive oil, it’s the base of so many dishes. Not only is the smell tantalizing, but the promise of future deliciousness is too. Shallots sauteing is a similar, and equally pleasurable smell.
• Sage: It’s one of my favorite herbs, and the powerful, flowery aroma is one of my favorites as well. Yes, lot’s of other herbs smell wonderful, including mint, basil, thyme, and rosemary, but the unique aroma of sage is definitely the one I enjoy the most.
• Flour: There’s something about the smell of raw flour that gets me every time. It’s not particularly strong, but I can’t open up a container of flour without sticking my face into it and taking a big whiff.
• Anything fresh baked out of the oven: This one pretty much goes without saying, but I would be remiss to leave it out.
• Coffee: Another obvious one. I gave up drinking coffee years ago for a multitude of reasons, but I still can’t resist the smell. Can anyone?
• Oniony hands: I love how the scent of onion clings to my hands hours after chopping them. I know it’s a little strange, but I can’t get enough of it, and usually end up sniffing my fingers like a weirdo. I used to do the same thing in high school after having photography dark room chemicals on my hand. I think that was even stranger, but I have to say I miss the smell of fixer on my fingers.

What are some of your favorite kitchen smells?