Meat analog update



Kentucky Fried Chicken’s “Imposter Burger.” It’s Quorn! Source: KFC

As far as I can tell, Kentucky Fried Chicken’s test-marketing of the “Imposter Burger” was only in the United Kingdom. It sold out in no time. The Imposter Burger is a faux chicken sandwich, as opposed to Burger King’s “Impossible Burger,” which is faux beef. The KFC sandwich is made of Quorn, which I have written about here before (search for “Quorn” in the search box at the top right).

My understanding is that KFC’s version of Quorn uses the same patented recipe for the seasonings and coatings that KFC uses for its chicken. But Quorn also makes a seasoned version of it’s fake chicken. More on that below.

I am excited to see corporations jumping into this market. And it’s extremely encouraging that, when fast-food mega-corporations have test-marketed meat-free alternatives, people have jumped on it. This trend is not going to be a market failure.

Earlier this month, Salon carried a piece with the headline “Is the Impossible Burger a threat to vegetarianism? The Impossible Burger is good, but it’s no substitute for creative, veggie-first vegetarian cooking.”

I would agree with that. I have been focused on vegetarian cooking for most of my life. Vegetarian cooking is not about finding substitutes for meat. Rather, it’s a cuisine in and of itself, with its own virtues. The truth is that I (and many people like me) don’t even like or crave meat all that much.

Last week (for example), I made a meat loaf out of some “Beyond Burger” fake ground beef. I didn’t like it. It was vaguely disgusting, the way undercooked meat is disgusting to vegetarians. I only partially ate it and put the rest out back for my resident opossum (who eats well). I prefer my own vegetarian high-protein loaves, which are based on soybeans and such. I don’t know what they flavor Beyond Burger with, but it has a mysterious “gamey” taste that of course is intended to make it taste like meat, but which I find repulsive. I have no idea what these ingredients are in “Beyond Burger” that are meant to make it taste like meat. The label doesn’t specify. It just says “natural flavorings.” When “Beyond Burgers” are cooked on the grill, the grilled flavor predominates. When cooked in the oven, the gamey flavor predominates.

As excited as I am about Quorn, Burger King’s Impossible Burger, and KFC’s Imposter Burger, these analogs will not alter my diet in any significant way. They give me new options while traveling, but that’s about it. What is truly exciting is how promising these new foods are in reducing the amount of meat in the corporate diet that so many people rely on these days. Sure, Republicans will go right on insisting on “real” meat and passing laws in Republican legislatures to protect the meat industry, animal welfare and the environment be damned. But people who are kinder and more sensible than Republicans will have new alternatives that they seem to be eager for. Guess whose health will improve and whose will go downhill?

Quorn, by the way, makes a pre-seasoned analog chicken burger that looks a lot like KFC’s Imposter Burger. KFC’s version is seasoned by KFC, whereas Quorn’s version is seasoned by Quorn. I was surprised to find that I already had some of these Quorn “chicken” burgers in my freezer than I hadn’t got around to using. They’re dry, but they’re decently tasty. If you’re looking for these at the grocery store, they’re labeled “Chik’n Patties.” They’re in the frozen foods section. Make yourself a dipping sauce to overcome the dryness.


Quorn “Chik’n Patties,” stir-fried squash from a neighbor’s garden, and guacamole that includes banana peppers from the neighbor’s garden


Update: This today from the Washington Post: Beyond Meat’s latest plant-based burger is meatier, juicier and a big step closer to beef.


Two lemons a day keep the doctor away


It’s a miracle of nature that the best summer drink of all — homemade lemonade — also is some of the best medicine you can get.

If you do some Googling and reading on the virtues of lemons, you’ll find plenty of people who swear that lemons can cure arthritis. Surely that’s too good to be true. But there can be little doubt that lemons are very good for not only your joints, but for all of the soft tissues of the body.

Consider the symptoms of scurvy, which the British navy famously discovered can be cured by lemons, limes, and oranges. In scurvy, pretty much all the soft tissues of the body start to fall apart and are unable to heal — gums, muscles, joints, skin, even the blood vessels. Fortunately for me, I learned about the virtues of oranges and lemons more than 40 years ago, from Jethro Kloss’ classic back-to-the-earth book on natural healing, Back to Eden. Kloss prescribed up to a dozen oranges a day any time the body has a healing job on its hands.

Though I am past 70, I don’t have any joint problems or even any foreshadowing of arthritis. I want to keep it that way. I’m resolved to have two lemons a day this summer while building myself up for hiking in Scotland. Hiking will do no harm to the muscles, heart, or lungs of an older person who is reasonably fit. It will just make you stronger. It’s the joints that are most at risk, especially with a heavy pack on your back. The stress on one’s joints must not exceed the speed at which joints can heal. Lemon juice, I very much believe, improves the ability of joint tissues to heal and to strengthen. I had a touch of shin splits after returning from Scotland last year. That resolved after about a week, but part of my experiment with lemons this summer is to see if lemons can ward off shin splints. Shin splints, I believe, are caused by micro-tears in leg tissue. It seems reasonable to me that lemons should help.

Wherever the virtue of lemons comes from, I’m convinced that it goes way beyond just vitamin C. When any kind of juice is put up in cartons, most of its virtue is gone, and the juice becomes just another sweet drink with empty calories. It’s almost magical or mystical, as though there is some mysterious life force in living fruit, but there is no substitute for the just-squeezed juice of still-living citrus fruit.

The biggest challenge with lemonade is how to sweeten it. Adding a lot of sugar will counteract the alkalizing effect that lemons have on body chemistry and will reduce lemons’ anti-inflammatory benefits. I use stevia with lemons. It’s hard to believe that anything can be so sweet and also so harmless. But as far as I can tell stevia gives no cause for worry if you don’t overdo it. There is some disagreement about whether stevia lowers blood pressure. Just for the fun of it, I took my blood pressure last night after having lemonade sweetened with a generous 3ml of stevia extract. I got 101 over 63, compared with 112 over 66 the last time I took my blood pressure a couple of months ago. One measurement doesn’t prove anything, of course. But it may well be true that stevia lowers your blood pressure.

You can order stevia extract from Amazon. Trader Joe’s sells a very nice organic stevia extract in 2-ounce bottles. Stevia is made from the leaves of a plant. It has been used as a sweetener in South America, and I believe in Japan as well, for hundreds if not thousands of years.

This just in from California



iPhone XS photos by JMG

Regular readers know that I have been breathlessly following Burger King’s rollout of the Impossible Whopper. The rollout started in the St. Louis area. After meeting with great success there, and an 18 percent increase in same-store sales, Burger King rolled out the Impossible Whopper in the San Francisco Bay Area.

These photos arrived by text message today from a friend in California. The Burger King was in San Jose. These are his comments:

“I just had the Impossible Whopper at Burger King. It was even better than Beyond Meat burgers…. I really couldn’t tell the difference between it and regular meat…. The only difference is that it has less grease, which is a plus…. A lot less…. I went there while waiting to get my Prius serviced at Stevens Creek Toyota.”

So there you have it, including the surprising revelation that Prius drivers are into Impossible Whoppers.

The headquarters of Impossible Burger is in Redwood City, California, not far from San Jose. Their first manufacturing plant is in Oakland, just across San Francisco Bay from San Francisco. Burger King has said that all Burger Kings will have Impossible Whoppers by the end of the year. I’m breathlessly waiting. Whether Priuses, Impossible Burgers, or compostable plastic, corporate America will give it to us if we demand it.

Why is Mexican so hard?



A very inauthentic chili relleno

Other than those Americans who live close to the Mexican border, or in California, most Americans know very little about good Mexican cuisine. Readers in Europe: Do you have Mexican restaurants at all? I’m guessing not.

At the risk of being snobbish about restaurants in America, there is low Mexican cuisine, and there is high Mexican cuisine — just as there is a low and high Chinese cuisine, and a low and high Italian cuisine. Americans by the millions love Mexican, Chinese, and Italian restaurants. But what millions of Americans don’t know is that what they’re getting is a low cuisine. Most Americans wouldn’t be willing to pay for truly good cooking, nor do they necessarily like good cooking if they’re exposed to it. Most Americans just want low cuisines and big servings. When I was living in San Francisco, I’ve taken visitors to superb Italian restaurants in North Beach, and the visitors didn’t even recognize the food as Italian. It went way over their heads, because it wasn’t the usual spaghetti and lasagna.

At the grocery store a couple of days ago, I came across some beautiful, and perfectly fresh, poblano peppers. I bought some, and I resolved to go home and try to make chili rellenos. As I looked at recipes, I realize that there was no way that I was going to go to all that trouble. The peppers are supposed to be fried in a batter that includes whipped egg whites re-mixed with the yolk. There is just no way I was going to do so much work to add so many calories. I ended up grilling the pepper, doing my best to peel it. I stuffed the pepper with grated cheese and some leftover hummus. There was nothing authentic about my chili relleno other than a stolen concept. Then again, lots of cuisines stuff peppers.

I did not cheat on the salsa, though. I made it from a grilled tomato and onion, chopped in the blender, seasoned with garlic and cilantro, and heated just short of a simmer. Mexican cooking from scratch is hard. That’s why people buy it in kits. The low-end Mexican restaurants also buy things in kits from food services, which is why, if you’ve been to one low-Mexican restaurant, you’ve been to them all.

The best Mexican cuisine I’ve ever had was in San Diego. (It has been 40 years since I was in Mexico, and I don’t remember much other than the refrescas, which I believe have now been corporatized. When I was there, they were made fresh by the roadside.) San Diego is just across the Mexican border, and the San Diego population can support good restaurants. The San Francisco Bay Area had a reasonably good chain of middle-brow Mexican cuisine, Chevy’s Fresh Mex. But I ate at a Chevy’s once in provincial Sacramento and was shocked how different (and low-cuisine) it was compared with the same chain in San Francisco. What can I say. Provincial Americans love their low cuisine and actually don’t like what more demanding foodies like.

I know nothing about the history of Mexican cuisine. I wish I did. But my guess would be that it’s a fusion of a Mediterranean sensibility with an Indian sensibility, with lots of New World ingredients. How could you beat that?

Restoring a vintage cast iron skillet



The 1940s skillet after stripping, scouring, and one seasoning treatment. It looks brand new!

I bought this vintage cast iron skillet at an antique shop in Stuart, Virginia, for $17. It’s a great skillet, and it was a good bargain, though it’s not as collectible as some vintage cast iron, which is very much a thing now. But, since I bought it to use, it would be hard to do better.

Back in March, I wrote here about my interest in returning to the iron age of cookware — chiefly cast iron for skillets and heavy copper for saucepans. But I also like Corning Visions glass pots for cooking with liquids, because glass is so inert.

Why do you want to cook with cast iron? Many people are returning to cast iron, after realizing that, properly seasoned, it’s the original non-stick cookware. The cast iron surface does not degrade if properly maintained, and so cast iron cookware is durable enough to become heirlooms (try that with Teflon).

If you look at vintage cast iron cookware on eBay, you’ll find that pieces made by the most respected manufacturers — Griswold and Wagner, for example — have become very valuable and very collectible. Why would anyone prefer the vintage cast iron cookware to the very good cast iron cookware manufactured today in the U.S. by Lodge?

The reason is a good one, actually. If you look at the surface of a new piece of Lodge ironware, you’ll see that it has a kind of sandy finish from the casting process. I believe it actually is cast in sand. Today’s Lodge ironware has not been polished, because polishing probably would double the cost. Most vintage ironware, however, has been polished. You can see the difference if you look closely.

If you look at the photo above, you’ll see that the cooking surface has a circular pattern. That pattern was made by a rotating polishing stone. That’s what you’re looking for in vintage ironware. The polished surface is smoother and makes the surface more non-stick than an unpolished sandy surface.

Because vintage ironware is a thing, if you Google you’ll find many good sources on how to restore and re-season old pieces and how to identify what you’ve found. After watching eBay for a while, I’d say that bargains are difficult to find there. Sellers know what they’ve got. You’re probably more likely to find vintage ironware at a good price in your local antique stores.

Notice that my new skillet is not stamped with the name of its manufacturer. However, there are some features that pretty conclusively identify the manufacturer and the date. There is no “Made in USA” stamp, which means that the skillet dates from the 1950s or earlier. The “7” is the size of the skillet. A No. 7 skillet is just over 10 inches wide at the top and is pretty much the right size to fit exactly on a large burner on a modern range. The “D” identifies the product type (though I don’t know what it stands for). But the identifying factors are the notches in the heat ring at 3, 9, and 12 o’clock. That makes it close to a certainty that this is a vintage Lodge skillet. It probably was made during the 1940s.

Lye, by the way, is very effective at stripping the old seasoning from a vintage skillet. Check the label, but most oven cleaners are made of lye. After stripping, the bare iron will be a kind of battleship gray. After seasoning, it will turn black. Though my new skillet had very minor amounts of rust, it wasn’t enough to cause a problem during restoration. Stripping and scouring (with steel wool) removed the rust. If you’re shopping for vintage ironware, watch out for pitting on the cooking surface or heavy rust — anything that makes the cooking surface less smooth. What you see in my top photo is pretty much ideal, if you’re buying the ironware to use for cooking. You’ll probably find that most old ironware has pitting or other damage. But with luck you may find an old jewel at a decent price.


How it looked when I brought it home — not bad!


The back of the skillet. Note the light rust after 4 o’clock and 9 o’clock, and the notches in the heat ring at 3, 9, and 12.


Light rust on the top edge of the skillet


Stripping the skillet with oven cleaner

Vegan burger report (updated)



Click here for high resolution version.

Not only did this vegetarian burger greatly exceed my expectations, it was so convincing that I felt disgusted with myself after eating it, as though I really had snarfed down a big belly load of pink-in-the-middle beef. This is the “Beyond Burger” from Beyond Meat.

As a near-vegetarian, I can face beef only when it is well done. When I took the first bite of this burger and saw that the burger was pink inside, I felt a wave of nausea. I had to fish the package out of the recycling bin to reassure myself that I was eating pea protein and beet juice. Though the burger seemed undercooked to me, I realized that it was not undercooked and that putting it back on the grill would not make the pink go away. Not only had I given the burger three minutes on each side according to the instructions, the burger had caught fire on the grill from the olive oil with which I basted it.

The olive oil was not necessary, though. There is coconut oil in the burger — and probably other ingredients — that ensure that it doesn’t go dry during cooking.

I’m guessing that Burger King’s version, which is made by a different company — Impossible Foods — is even more convincing than the “Beyond Burger” by Beyond Meat. That’s because the Burger King version, rather than beet juice, uses a cultured “heme” made from soybean roots that is chemically similar to blood. Like the Impossible Burger, Burger King’s burger also has little particles of coconut oil in it to take the place of fat.

Burger King’s market-testing of the Impossible Burger in the St. Louis area has gone so well that all Burger King’s will carry it by the end of the year.

Vegetarian patties aimed at vegetarians have been around for ages, of course. They were not intended to be convincing meat analogs. Some of them are pretty good. But what’s new here is that the market is now going after committed meat-eaters, with burgers so convincing that they won’t know the difference.

I got these burgers at Whole Foods. The patties are little too thick for me. I prefer thinner diner-style burgers. Next time I’ll slice the patty in half.


Update: Beyond Meat, a plant-based food company, surges 163 percent after IPO



Good timing, Burger King


About a month ago, when the Green New Deal was at the top of everyone’s news feeds, right-wingers market-tested a new 2020 theme for scaring the deplorables: Liberals are coming to take away your hamburgers!

As reported by the Washington Post:

“They want to take your pickup truck. They want to rebuild your home. They want to take away your hamburgers,” former White House aide Sebastian Gorka declared at the Conservative Political Action Conference on Thursday. “This is what Stalin dreamt about but never achieved.”

Just to show us how extremely unattractive they are and to supply Twitter with meme material (people Photoshopped pig snouts on them), Republican members of the House Natural Resources Committee appeared on the Capitol Steps, laughing it up and eating hamburgers. Are we surprised that Republican members of the House Natural Resources Committee have no interest in reducing agricultural pollution or greenhouse-gas emissions, or that they’re not interested in animal welfare? Republican policy is about as beautiful as Republican members of the House Natural Resources Committee.

Now Burger King is test-marketing the Impossible Whopper, which is made from soybean roots. If everything goes well in the St. Louis test market, soon we’ll all be able to try the Impossible Whopper.

I Googled this morning for right-wing blowback against Burger King for daring to throw in with the Stalinist dream. But so far I’m not detecting it. The Impossible Whopper is, after all, the product of a corporation that wants to meet the demand for a more responsible (and probably healthier) burger. Whether it’s the decline of coal and oil or the rise of electric cars and efficient lightbulbs, it’s funny how the market keeps trampling on the policies of the Republican Party.

As far as I can tell, Burger King is not a significant donor to any political party. As for the California start-up that developed the Impossible Burger, let’s all root for their success. As far as I can tell, they do not get any government subsidies. Bill Gates is one of their biggest investors. For now, the Impossible Whopper will cost $1 more than a beef Whopper. Eventually, meat analogs such as the Impossible Whopper ought to become cheaper than beef, once they can be made in quantity and government subsidies to agricultural are re-aligned. A big change in the beef market would be hard for a lot of American farmers, I’m sure. But if the Republican members of the House Natural Resources Committee had good sense, they’d be analyzing needed changes in policy and helping farmers prepare for the future, rather than out on the Capitol steps making fools of themselves.


Just another photo-op for the glamorous figures of Republican history. Twitter photo.

Grilled pumpkin


The smallest of my little pumpkins — too small to make a pie or even a pot of pumpkin bisque — grill beautifully. You could grill any winter squash, of course. A Japanese winter squash, kabocha, has an edible skin, I believe. I grilled this pumpkin in the skin and cut off the skin at the table.

It was 70 degrees F on the deck today, and the daffodils are still blooming. So it was better to be slaving over a hot grill on the deck than over a hot wok in the kitchen.

If I haven’t mentioned it lately, in case you want to order seeds, the proper name of my little pumpkins is “Long Island cheese squash,” or “Long Island cheese pumpkin.” They seem to be everybody’s favorite for pumpkin pie, but I’m experimenting with their versatility. I still have about a dozen of them left from last year’s crop.

Pumpkin lasagna


Pumpkin lasagna was an all-day job, and I can’t say that it was a great success. No matter how hard I try, I just can’t roll homemade pasta thin enough. And the pumpkin, which was already soft from baking, lacked texture in the lasagna.

Still, I’m not going to give up on figuring out ways to use little pumpkins other than desserts. I think the next experiment will be with pumpkin parmigiana, in which raw, sliced pumpkin is fried in batter and then layered into a parmigiana.

Parched peanuts


Did our lean grandparents and great-grandparents eat snacks? I believe they did. What those snacks were, no doubt, varied from region to region. Popcorn, I suspect, is an old commodity. Here in the American South, parched peanuts were a common snack.

I have a clear memory from the age of 6 or 7. I was in my grandmother’s kitchen on a cold day, probably early winter. There was a fire in the wood stove. On the wood stove was an iron skillet. In the skillet were peanuts, and my mother and grandmother were parching them. Normally, children would not be invited into the kitchen to watch whatever was happening on the stove. But parched peanuts, clearly, were seen as a treat for children. And I’d wager that my mother and grandmother had their own memories of seeing peanuts parched as children.

My grandfather was a farmer, with a remarkably self-sufficient farm in the Yadkin Valley of North Carolina. One of the annual crops was peanuts. These days, nobody in these parts that I’m aware of grows peanuts. But you can still buy raw peanuts in the shell at one of the grocery stores in Walnut Cove.

Peanuts are parched in a hot iron skillet that has not been oiled. Parching them is not equivalent to roasting them. Roasted peanuts have a uniform brown color. Parched peanuts are more brown on the outside and cream-colored on the inside. Though I suppose that, if one were patient and very careful, one could fully roast peanuts in an iron skillet.

Peanuts and popcorn, I believe, were social snacks. When peanuts and popcorn were made, enough was made for everybody in the house. I’m guessing that even snacking back then, like the sit-down big-table dinner, was a family affair.


Salted parched peanuts