The Rake Magazine

I am a King Prawn, okay?

I will not eat them Mr. Pimp
I will not eat those pinky shrimp.

I will not eat them set ablaze.
I will not eat them in souffles.

I will not eat them with a dip.
I will not eat them on a chip.

I will not eat them in a sauce.
I will not eat them with your boss.

I will not eat them as a puff.
I will not eat that icky stuff.

I will not eat those wretched shrimp,
I will not eat them Chimpy Chimp.

Oh, fine. I'll try some. You never know
which place your mind will let you go.
I like them! I like them!
I do, I do!
Now I can be just like one of you.

It's taken me 10 years to like shrimp. I still can't eat them like everyone else, drowning them in deathly red cocktail sauce and slurping them up. And I can't abide those tiny tiny pink curls hiding in a salad or a box of fried rice. But I have learned to love them blackened or classically broiled in scampi fashion. I enjoy them in paella and find them pleasing in ceviche.

I am growing, I am evolving.

I bring this up for two reasons. Firstly, Bubba Gump Shrimp Co. has just announced the winner of their "Shrimp Happens" recipe contest. Kathy Saatzer of Maple Grove has created a Margarita Shrimp Salad that will appear on their menu starting July 1st. Each time the salad is ordered in July, Bubba Gump will donate $1 to Second Harvest Heartland. A worthy reason to brave the Mall of America.

Secondly, I helped judge the Diamond Crystal Kosher Salt recipe contest a few months ago, and am pleased to see that the Salt Roasted Shrimp dish from Shoshana Baars-Stanton won the appetizer category. It was truly lovely, not icky in the least.

Salt Roasted Shrimp
1 T olive oil
1 T chopped cilantro
1 large clove garlic, thinly sliced
6 medium/large shrimp, deveined, shells on
1.5 to 2 cups Diamond Crystal Kosher Salt
1/2 cup Chardonnay wine
1/8 tsp. crushed saffron threads
4 whole black peppercorns
1/4 tsp. honey
3 T unsalted butter, cut into cubes
1/4 tsp. Diamond Crystal Kosher Salt

1. Heat oven to 400. In medium bowl, blend olive oil, cilantro, and garlic. Add shrimp, toss to coat. Cover and refrigerate.

2. Spread salt in even layer on baking sheet at least 1/2 inch thick. Place sheet in oven for 30 minutes to heat salt.

3. Remove sheet from oven and place shrimp on the hot salt in a single layer. Return to oven, baking for 2 minutes. Turn shrimp over and bake for additional 2 minutes. Remove from oven. Brush all salt from shrimp (a pastry brush works well) and remove shells. Set shrimp aside.

4. Combine chardonnay, saffron and peppercorns in medium sauce pan. Over medium heat, allow mixture to boil and reduce to 2 tablespoons. Discard peppercorns and stir in honey. Remove from heat, whisk in butter one cube at a time until blended. Arrange shrimp on plate and drizzle sauce over shrimp. Serves 2.

the spork carries no shame

No disrespect to the fabulous AZ, but he isn't the original Chowhound.

For those of us with a driving desire to scour the cities of the world in search of the best grimy taco stand, Jim Leff is our Top Dog. He's the food writer who created Chowhound, a community website for the food-obsessed.

Posting from all over the world on message boards, chowhounds exchange opinions on topics ranging from the best gelato in Phoenix to the debate on butter chicken vs. chicken tikka.

This international cirle of eaters has NEVER steered me wrong. They sent me to Cal Pep in Barcelona (a nearly holy lunch), Les Delaat in Bangkok and Juanita's Taco Shop north of San Diego. If I want to know where to get the best cuban sandwich in Miami I skip the concierge and the glossy food mags. For the most reliable info I go to Chowhound first and a bodega clerk second.

After partnering up with CNET, the formerly shabby Chowhound site has just relaunched with new software and a clean look. But don't let the scrubbing fool you, it still has the soul of a renegade.

From their manifesto: Chowhounds blaze trails. They comb through neighborhoods for culinary treasure. They despise hype. And while they appreciate ambience and service, they can't be fooled by flash....If you, too, fret endlessly about making every bite count; if you'd grow weak from hunger rather than willingly eat something less than delicious, this place is for you!

If you crave gustatory gestalt, you're a chowhound, and you've found a home.

I sometimes miss my chance to support the local-food-movement, mainly because many Saturday mornings come at the expense of Friday night revelry and not even the promise of a breakfast brat could lure me to the market.

With the opening of Golden Fig & River Chocolate Company Fine Foods on Grand Ave. in St. Paul, I can feel good about hitting the snooze on the weekends and supporting the community on Tuesdays. The shop is the brainchild of two giants in the local food producers movement: Laurie Crowell of Golden Fig and Dierdre Davis of River Chocolate.

The idea is to feature fine foods and gifts made by small producers from the Midwest. Beyond their own lines, you'll find goodies like Daddy Sam's BBQ Sauce, Laura's Candy hand-crafted marshmallows (hello double dark chocolate!)and Native Harvest maple butter.

But even better than the goods are the stories behind them, and Laurie and Dierdre know them all. They've worked hard to find the items they're selling and have really learned about the people behind them: there's the spice lady in a small Minnesota town who has traveled the world in search of spices or the people behind Native Harvest who are sharing Native American traditions to fund the White Earth Recovery Project.

Inspired by the sell-out of their Rustica Bakery orders, they're waiting on a delivery for a deli cooler. The pair promises to stock it with the best local cheeses and meats, as well as a special sandwich of the day.

Of course you can still visit Laurie and Dierdre at their market booths on the weekends, but take the time to stop in the store during the week and make them tell you a story.

Golden Fig & River Chocolate Company Fine Foods
790 Grand Ave.
St. Paul, MN 55105
651.602.0144

I've been to the Mill City Farmers Market over the last two weekends. I'm very happy with the blue sheep's cheese from Shepherd's Way Farms and the great-for-ice-cream milk from Cedar Summit Farms. I was going to give it one more weekend and blog about my planned yak's meat purchase, but now there's Gertrude.

I bought an heirloom tomato plant, and because I can't remember what kind it was I've dubbed her Gertrude. I know I'm late to the planting game. I can't seem to get my act together this year, even for the ultimate reward of fresh tomatoes. But there she sits in a giant terra cotta pot on my patio, sunning herself far away from the greedy, evil bambies and bunnies. And now I worry.

Is she getting enough sun or too much? How many times a day should I be watering and if it rains what does that do to the watering schedule? Maybe it's because I have this one and only plant that I'm obsessing. Maybe it's because I feel that as a food person, I should be able to bring forth food from the earth with aplomb and grace.

In an effort to find out Gertrude's lineage, I began scouring the websites of the vendors for the market. Maybe I'd recognize a name, a farm logo, something to jog my caffeine addled brain.

That's how I found Gardens of Eagan and their farmer blogs. I'm riveted by Atina Diffley's passionate race to save organic fields from the pipeline. But I'm nearly addicted to Laura Ferich's telling of the second year on her Loon Organics farm. Her love of eating what she's growing, the guarded excitement over the purchase of farm equipment, concern for bugs and all that needs to be done in a scant 18 hour day has me hooked.

Most people don't know about the toil that goes into farming, even now that small farms and organics are becoming chic. It's like the chef thing: the splashy media doesn't really want to talk about time spent cleaning squid.

The more I read about all they do to make a life out of organic farming, the more I feel that Gertrude's going to be just fine....

One of my kids looked over the ice cream machine, as it was loudly cranking away, and hesitantly asked what flavor I was making. The answer didn't please him and his reply was, "You never make normal ice cream anymore."

I have become a mad alchemist in search of the perfect formula.

Chefs all over have been doing funky things with ice cream for a while, but I can't abide lobster ice cream or cheese-steak sorbet. I'm all for savory elements, but they have to work with creamy sweetness. Emily Luchetti, pastry chef at Farallon in San Francisco, gets it. Her new book, A Passion for Ice Cream, is a beautiful beginning for the mad mad alchemist who needs to be pointed in the right direction.

Some of my successful ice cream flavors have been basil, pistachio cardamom, orange mint, cinnamon/cayenne chocolate, fig caramel, cucumber mint, and stout (Guinness). Non-winners have included zinfandel plum, cabernet black pepper, strawberry star anise, and wasabi peanut.

I can easily crank out a pint of vanilla or chocolate chocolate chip, which I probably should do more often for the sake of the family. But I can't help feeling like something's missing: garam masala, lavendar, salty caramel, something....

Stout Ice Cream

Combine milk, cream, beer, and vanilla in a medium sauce pan, simmer over medium heat (do not let boil). In separate big bowl, mix egg yolks and sugar until you form a pale yellow paste.

When liquid mix is hot, pour little by little into the egg mixture while stirring constantly (we don't want to scramble the eggs.) Once both are combined, pour back into the sauce pan and return to medium heat.

Stirring constantly, watch for the custard to thicken slightly, coating the back of your spoon. Immediately remove from heat and pour into a clean bowl. Let it cool to room temp, then process in ice cream maker according to instructions.

Because of the alcohol, it will take longer to freeze. Plan to stick it in the freezer for a while after processing.