BY SALLY KETCHUM
Local columnist
March 25, 2008 04:00 am I suppose we all pretty much watch what we eat. Certainly food writers are especially aware of their Peas and Quick breads. Most folks watch intelligently, not compulsively. Seems like common sense to me. But, sometimes, I like to extend "the watch" to watching other people eat, what they eat, and how they eat. I find watching people eat is educational and fun, too. After all, one has to be careful to hide the observation. I get a little thrill of "spy" when I am on the watch. It's not really nice in the sense of "if they only knew." With respect to polite society, we watchers must be subtle. Stares are taboo. Any one who has parented a child knows that learning to eat mannerly happens in stages: cereal spits, pureed carrot smears, a French fry in an ear, and the classic -- 10 black olives on 10 little fingers. But as the kids grow and grab pizza slices, we tend to give up the watch. One in a while, though, watching people eat helps me to appreciate food more and more. I think appreciation of our food is a very good thing to have, especially with the price of food today. I first discovered that watching people was educational some time ago at a few days of cooking lessons with one of our area's renowned chefs. Eighteen students formed the class, and after we cooked, we were seated at three tables of six to eat the elegant food we produced. This was the first time I had eaten in the company of world-class eaters -- that is, people who knew purveyors, ingredients, equipment, preparation methods, and even a few secret tweaks of trade along the way. (I once saw Chef Peterson of Tapawingo "listen" to his oven to check something.) I recall a retired CEO at the cooking lessons table, sighing, and saying, "Ah, that balsamic must be very aged." And I thought, "Balsamic? Must be something about Christmas." Oh yeah, now I know differently. Balsamic vinegar is a staple on grocery shelves now, and like anything else, can be carried to the extreme. An example extreme: One can order Dean & Deluca's house balsamic vinegar for a mere $35 a bottle. Dean & Deluca's Aceto Balsamico di Modena runs to $180 a bottle. It must be good. My point is that, true of any endeavor, there are experts who have arrived at the pinnacle of experience. Some of the folks at our table thought nothing of taking a helicopter to New York to eat at The Gramercy Tavern or to attend a James Beard Award affair. Our three-day lesson session had the theme of "Celebration of Game" and the consumption I recall watching particularly was of a rabbit gumbo. Marie, the Midwest editor of a popular magazine, clearly enjoyed her food in an elevated way. Small sounds, a sigh or even a muted whistle escaped her lips after a spoonful of broth or a bit of okra. I watched her survey her dish for various ingredients. She scooped up a small piece of rabbit and placed it on the wide rim of the soup dish. It stayed there, obviously a case of "saving the best for last." Sometimes, she even tapped, patted it lovingly with her spoon, but until the end, returned to the gumbo. As I watched Marie, it occurred to me that in honor of this dish she was consuming, her attention was totally consumed by the dish. No inane table talk here. Yes, this was one smart gumbo. So, Marie is the educated eater. She understands food and knows how to evaluate it. My wicked observations have discovered other eater types, too: -- Fill the Tummy. You envision his stomach as a measuring cup as he piles into food. -- The Great Pretender. She (or he) twirls a fork between non-bites, lines up peas, and manipulates the food on the plate until it has cooled and the waiter takes it away. -- All Noise, No Poise. A fan of visual aids, this fellow open-mouths comments. Apparently he's been in one of those countries where burps are compliments. A slurp is a song, an "ummm" sounds like the oboes of the New York Philharmonic warming up, and a sudden gasp indicates the need of either the Heimlich maneuver or two desserts. Quick Batter Bread 2 1/2-3 c. all-purpose flour 1 T. sugar 1 T. chopped chives or finely chopped onion 2 t. dill weed or chopped fresh dill 1 T. salt 1/4 t. baking soda 1 package active dry yeast 1 c. creamed cottage cheese 1/4 c. water 1 T. butter 1 egg 1 egg, slightly beaten Combine one cup of flour with the sugar, chives or onion, dill, salt, soda and dry yeast in a large mixing bowl or an electric mixer. Heat the cottage cheese, water and butter in a small saucepan. Add to the flour mixture along with one egg, and blend three minutes. Beat in the remaining flour to make a stiff dough. Cover and allow to rise in a warm draft-free place until double in bulk -- about an hour. Stir the dough down. Turn into a well- buttered two-pound coffee can (not plastic!) or a two-quart soufflé mold. Allow to rise again 35-40 minutes. Brush lightly with the beaten egg. Bake at 350 degrees 35-40 minutes, or until nicely browned and hollow sounding when rapped. Cool in the container 10 minutes, then slip out onto a rack to finish cooling. (Tastes best fresh.) --"American Cookery," James Beard Sally Ketchum is a northern Michigan food journalist. She recently attended The San Francisco's Writers Conference. "It was a joy to meet other food writers," Ketchum said, "and to eat in the famous food city for eight days and nights."
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Sally Ketchum