Uh-oh. More cookies.

The abbey’s chocolate budget is pretty high. Though desserts are far from a regular thing, there’s always dark chocolate after supper — the good kind, organic chocolates from Whole Foods, usually 70 percent and above. If the chocolate runs low before I make a Whole Foods run, then some sort of emergency chocolate is necessary. A morsel or two of chocolate after supper is de rigeur. Not to mention an addiction. Preferably with port.

These double-chocolate cookies, from a New York Times recipe, are my current candidate for emergency chocolate. The goal is to keep the chocolate hit high and the calorie hit low. Just keep some dark chocolate chips (or discs) on hand, and cocoa, obviously, and you’re good for making emergency chocolate.

The recipe makes just over two pounds of cookie dough, so I bake half of it at a time and leave the rest of the dough in the refrigerator.

Simple Friday

The weather Friday was perfect (67 degrees F, quite a change from the polar vortex a week ago), so we had Simple Friday rather than Simple Saturday this week.

Why is cooking and eating outdoors so much fun? In any case, I’m starting to get the hang of cooking on the firebox. I’d kill for a brick-made outdoor range, with an oven for baking bread. Ken spent most of the day working on a second chicken house. There will be photos of that soon.

Port

When I lived in San Francisco, it was easy to buy good port, with lots of options. Much of it came from California. But, here in the provinces, the city liquor stores don’t carry port. If the grocery stores have it, it is almost always cheap brands that are not safe for septic tanks, let alone for drinking.

Trader Joe’s has come to the rescue with an Evenus port in half bottles, at $9.99. I suspect that this was bottled especially for Trader Joe’s. Evenus usually labels their ports with the type of grape (for example, syrah, or zinfandel) and a year. This port is labeled “Port Dessert Wine,” as though it’s meant for a market in which people don’t really know what port is, or even that it’s a dessert wine. No matter. It’s a superb little bottle of port.

Sometimes when I’m admiring the recipes and food photos at the New York Times web site, I marvel at how many dessert recipes there are. Do people really make, and eat, so many desserts? Here at the abbey, pies and cakes and pastries are rare. One way of cutting down on dessert consumption is to always keep a good stock of dark chocolates for after dinner. Nothing goes better with chocolate than a wee glass of port. Calories saved!

Cooking from the bottom of the kitchen

One of my sayings is that I can always squeeze one more meal out of an empty kitchen. Today is a squeeze day.

It’s Tuesday morning. Starting Friday evening, snow started falling. By Saturday morning, it looked like a blizzard, with 10 to 12 inches of snow on the ground. That night, the low temperature was about 8 degrees F. On Sunday night, the low was about 5 degrees F. The kitchen was prepared for being snowed in, though fresh food was started to run low. I had not been to Whole Foods in more than two weeks. Nor am I going to Whole Foods today. The Smart car is still very much snowed in and is not going anywhere for a while. Even though the Jeep would get out perfectly well, I’d rather cook from the bottom of the kitchen than clean the snow off the Jeep and drive it on salty roads.

I call this “cooking from the bottom of the kitchen.” In the refrigerator, there are eggs, milk, plenty of wine and ale, lots of butter, and all sorts of sauces and such. In the cabinets, there is no shortage of flour or oil or things that come in cans. It’s fresh food that is always the problem. I just took an inventory. I have half an onion, a lot of celery, and a winter squash. There are lots of sweet potatoes (I had bought a bushel of sweet potatoes a few weeks ago). We are nowhere close to starving. But the objective, of course, is not to avoid starving but to make something good out of a kitchen in which supplies are dwindling. Cooking from the bottom of the kitchen is a good exercise in frugality. It gets you to use up things you’ve been ignoring but that need to be used. The beets that I had been ignoring got eaten last night.

So then, for supper I’m thinking butternut squash soup (with lots of celery), a whole wheat flatbread, and tuna salad (with lots of celery).

After supper, I’ll clean the refrigerator to get it ready to be filled up again. And tomorrow I’ll go grocery shopping.

Winter pesto with foraged chickweed

I finally remembered to use some of the chickweed that is growing so abundantly in the backyard and orchard right now. Mixed about half and half with fresh cilantro, it made a fine pesto as a dressing for avocado. The chickens love the chickweed, by the way, and we get the benefit of the chickweed indirectly in egg yolks that are as golden as springtime eggs, but in December.

The rest of this breakfast was organic yellow grits, bought in bulk at Whole Foods and drenched with garlic butter, and an abbey-laid egg fried in garlic butter.

The cookie is from a New York Times recipe, Tahini Shortbread Cookies. I substituted stone-ground whole wheat flour for most of the flour, and I substituted walnut oil for part of the butter. Next time I think I’ll add a little almond extract and some chopped pecans. The cookies have a delicate sandy texture and are great with tea.

K&W Cafeteria revisited

I know I’ve written about K&W Cafeterias before, but I had not been to one in almost a year. The nearest K&W (on Hanes Mill Road in Winston-Salem) recently reopened after being closed for several months for renovation.

Yes, I have a fascination with cafeterias, diners, and white-tablecloth bistros. In the category of cafeterias, K&W is as good as it gets. I used to have a Welsh friend who lived in London (he is now deceased) who loved to eat at K&W Cafeterias when he was in the U.S. It’s a pity, he used to say, that there isn’t one in London, because it would do huge business. K&W Cafeterias have changed very little since the 1930s, and that’s an important reason they stay in business. Pretty much everything is made from scratch, and the menu changes considerably from day to day.

They changed their china when they renovated. The segmented diner plate, alas, was plastic. But everything else was good vitreous china made in the U.K. Notice that the iced tea was the most expensive item on my ticket. Refills are free, and people drink a lot of that stuff.

Their corporate office is in Winston-Salem, but here’s a list of their locations.

Winter squash

For some reason, I have long underrated winter squash. I rarely bought them, and I never grew them. I suppose my thinking was that anything so hard and heavy must be as hard to cook as a rock and similarly tasteless. I was wrong, as was amply proven by a winter squash that I roasted on the grill a few days ago.

This little beauty is a Long Island cheese squash that a friend grew and sent to the abbey kitchen. It has all the charm of a magical little pumpkin, but it’s harder and heavier. It’s an heirloom squash, and I’ll save its seed for the spring. My understanding from the friend who grew it is that it wants to be planted in compost as soon as the last frost is over. Then, he says, it will keep growing and keep producing until the frost kills it the following fall. One plant, he said, yielded about 80 little pumpkinettes, and his root cellar is crowded with them. Anything that wants to grow and climb all season, and that risks getting pollinated from motley other squashes, would be a poor fit in the larger vegetable garden. But my gardener friend also says that these squash would happily cohabit with the asparagus. The asparagus patch is on the other side of the orchard, with its own fencing, on which the vine could climb.

The abbey is fortunate not only that Ken is a superb gardener, but also that we’re plugged into a network of other superb gardeners. It is time to start thinking about next year’s garden, you know. The seed catalogs will arrive very soon.

Stone ground whole wheat biscuits

First of all, I see from the blog log that this blog has some new readers in France. I’m flattered. Please feel welcome …

For years, I did my best with stone-ground whole wheat flour — and avoided it for some purposes — because bread came out like bricks. Now I understand the most important rule for using stone-ground whole wheat flour: soak it.

Soaking it overnight in the refrigerator is best. But soaking it even for an hour really helps. Use water, milk, buttermilk, or whatever is appropriate to your recipe. Add a teaspoon or so of apple cider vinegar.

When making biscuits, the biscuit-making procedure must be modified because we’ve started with wet flour. This is a little extra trouble, but it’s no big deal.

For biscuits, add the shortening to the wet flour in small pieces. Work it into the dough by stirring or kneading. Then add the baking powder and salt and mix again. Instead of coating the dough or the work surface with flour to prevent sticking, use a little oil instead. Shape the biscuits, put them in the pan, and pop them in the oven.

New York Times recipes

I think that just about the best food publication there is these days is the New York Times. The weekly feature “What to cook this week” is inspiring and always seasonal. The recipes are sensible and reasonably healthy (though I wonder if other people really make so many desserts — I rarely do). The food photography is good, though it seems a little hastily done at times.

The above photo is my version of their Sticky Cranberry Gingerbread. I baked it a little too long because the cranberry filling kept messing up the toothpick test. And by the way, one of the fringe benefits of subscribing to the Times is that you get an on-line “recipe box” where you can save the recipes you’re interested in.

The opposite of entropy, and why we’re alive

entropy-1

Fashion, Faith, and Fantasy in the New Physics of the Universe, by Roger Penrose, Princeton University Press, 2016, 502 pages.

Into the Cool: Energy Flow, Thermodynamics, and Life, by Eric D. Schneider and Dorion Sagan, The University of Chicago Press, 2005, 362 pages.

What Is Life? by Erwin Schrödinger, Cambridge University Press, 18th printing 2016.


Most of Roger Penrose’s Fashion, Faith, and Fantasy is over my head. But, as always with Penrose, I absorb what I can. Penrose ought to be a rock star as a physicist and mathematician. In some circles, he is. I think he’s the Einstein of our age.

But, tough reading though it is, and though it’s not the primary concern of this book, there is one concept in this book that is increasingly clear to me. It’s something that has puzzled me for years. Here is an uncomplicated way to think about the question. Why is it that fresh-squeezed orange juice is such a potent medicine and health-builder, but reconstituted orange juice is not much better for you than soda pop or any other sweet drink?

The answer, I believe, has to do with entropy.

Penrose’s book contains this illustration (I believe it was drawn by Penrose himself). I’ve also quoted the text that appears with the drawing:

entropy-2
Figure 3-16: Life on Earth is maintained by the great temperature imbalance in our sky. Incoming low-entropy energy from the Sun, in relatively fewer higher-frequency (~yellow) incoming photons, is converted by the green plants to far more numerous lower-frequency outgoing photons, removing an equal energy from the Earth in high-entropy form. By this means, plants, and thence other terrestrial life, can build up and maintain their structure.

What is entropy? Entropy is a lack of order. The concept of entropy has everything to do with the second law of thermodynamics, which says that the total entropy (or disorder) of an isolated system always increases over time.

As a living organism, your body is in a highly ordered state. Without a mechanism for ingesting order and eliminating disorder, your body would decompose, and you would die. Your source of the order you ingest is in your food.

Walk into a grocery store. Do you see any food that could have been produced without the sun? Of course not. All food contains negative entropy — that is, order. And the source of that order is the sun. It’s not just the energy of the sun that matters. It’s the fact that the sun is a very hot spot in a cold sky. All life on earth depends on that hot spot in the cold sky. This huge thermodynamic imbalance, or gradient, allows life to create order and avoid entropy.

Penrose again:

By Planck’s E = hv (see §2.2), the incoming [photons] are individually of much higher energy than those returning to space, so there must be many fewer coming into the Earth than going out for the balance to be achieved (see figure 3-16). Fewer photons coming in mean fewer degrees of freedom for the incoming energy and more for the outgoing energy, and therefore (by Boltzmann’s S = k log V) the photons coming in have much lower entropy than those going out. The green plants take advantage of this and use the low-entropy incoming energy to build up their substance, while emitting high-entropy energy [for example, body heat]. We take advantage of the low-entropy energy in the plants, to keep our own entropy down, as we eat plants, or as we eat animals that eat plants. By this means, life on Earth can survive and flourish. (These points were apparently first clearly made by Erwin Schrödinger in his groundbreaking 1967 book, What Is Life?)

Think of it this way:

Question: Why are fresh foods healthier than un-fresh foods, or foods that have been preserved? Answer: Because the fresh foods have the maximum amount of negative entropy from the sun, since plants begin to decompose the moment they’re harvested.

Question: Could we eat compost and other rotten stuff to stay alive and healthy, since compost contains all the nutrients we need? Answer: Probably not, because decomposition has reduced the compost to a disordered, high-entropy state. Simple organisms, of course, can live on compost. Earthworms can live on soil only because they’re very efficient at extracting negative entropy from high-entropy food. They can eat their body weight each day. We humans require food with much lower entropy.

I’ll leave you to think about these concepts, but I think it’s clear how this concept applies to nutrition and health. A healthy diet is about much more than just getting the right vitamins, minerals, proteins, etc. It’s also about getting all those nutrients in the most ordered state possible, as close to the sun as possible. Processed foods are unhealthy not just because they contain a lot of salt, fat, and chemicals. They’re unhealthy also because the processing decomposes the ingredients. If we don’t take in enough negative entropy, some part of our body will surely become disordered beyond the body’s ability to fix it, and we get sick.

The concept of entropy sheds new light on the wisdom of Michael Pollan’s simple rule for eating: “Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants. Avoid edible food-like substances.” Those edible food-like substances, in every case, are substances that formerly were food but which were rendered disordered and high-entropy by processing.

Another way of boiling down the concept might be: Choose foods that are as close to the sun as possible, and keep cooking and processing to a minimum to maintain the food’s molecular order.