I think all recipes need to add instructions like, “Place in the refrigerator, if you have indoor cats.” LOL!!! Michael, your posts always make me laugh 😂 So good to see you yesterday on zoom 💞🙌⏰
This was such a fun read—clever, laugh-out-loud funny, and a treat all the way through. And now I also have a new brandade recipe to try, minus the toilet technique 🤓. So glad we got to meet on the call today, Michael! I’m really looking forward to reading more from you.
Michael after meeting you on Mastermind today I knew your post would have that flair I love. That Je ne sais quoi that I find irresistible…a certain sense of humor that sets one apart.😍. This post did not disappoint…a Recluse eating the fish for two days. Priceless!🤩
This recipe looks amazing and I have never ever had the nerve to even attempt to make it. And now I cannot because how could I possibly write anything better - or even close to what you've written - about brandade? Anyway, I just buy chunks of the stuff and my local butcher, just pop it into the oven, and eat it with a green salad. But it is never as pretty as yours.
Salted cod–scented toilet tank fresheners have been a staple of Hackensacker bathrooms for more than 100 years. And now, thanks to your highly amusing piece, I know that the journey needn't end with my bladder's last drop but can continue on, from toilet to table. Summoning Francisco, our Portuguese cook, to my boudoir even as I type this...
I spent a recent day or two combing through exactly the same MFK Fisher texts in search of a specific reference to having a daughter sit on the pan bagnat in the backseat of the car all the way to a countryside or beach picnic. Never found it; perhaps it was another writer, but I’m sure it was an English language food writer in France in the late forties to early sixties, with a daughter.
We must all remember that every dinner we have does eventually meet the toilet so it’s not beyond the realms of imagination. It could also be an ingenious way to murder someone . Put the fish in the cistern, someone drops dead and you’d be like, oh no I pored a liter of Bleach down and forgot about the fish and the Cop that day could be half French and totally understand and not arrest you!!
Toilet tanks really are the unsung hero of kitchen preparedness. On one hot visit to Cinque Terre, we did not have an ice bucket, or ice, for that matter. The cold water of the tank worked beautifully to chill our rosé.
Foolish young man seeking a career as a cook, ensconced upstairs at Shakespeare & Co. sits surrounded by cookbooks. It’s 1971. I wish I could recall from which book but I copied the circa 1640 recipe for “Brandade de morue, pierre à fusil.” Why a gun flint is part of the name has never been clear. Soaked, boiled, pounded over high heat with repeated additions of alternating milk, olive oil & blanched garlic. Still make it at least once every year. No potatoes.
We Abruzzesi love our baccalà! My mom used to make it for Christmas Eve but I’ve never done it. We just had our bathroom redone at our little house over there so maybe I’ll give it a go next time I’m there 😂
It sounds delicious and reminds me of the plokfiskur I had the last time I was in Iceland. Except I think the only shared ingredients might be potatoes, cream, and salt. The cod was fresh, not salted. Sadly, it’s way too hot and humid in Virginia for a hearty, stick-to-your-ribs fish stew.
I think all recipes need to add instructions like, “Place in the refrigerator, if you have indoor cats.” LOL!!! Michael, your posts always make me laugh 😂 So good to see you yesterday on zoom 💞🙌⏰
My instructions might be niche, but they're practical.
It was delightful to see you, too, and thank you!
This was such a fun read—clever, laugh-out-loud funny, and a treat all the way through. And now I also have a new brandade recipe to try, minus the toilet technique 🤓. So glad we got to meet on the call today, Michael! I’m really looking forward to reading more from you.
It was a delight to meet you, too, and I'm so happy you enjoyed this post!
Michael after meeting you on Mastermind today I knew your post would have that flair I love. That Je ne sais quoi that I find irresistible…a certain sense of humor that sets one apart.😍. This post did not disappoint…a Recluse eating the fish for two days. Priceless!🤩
Oh, this makes me very happy, Jenn. Thank you!
So glad I decided to wake up early and hop on Zoom!
Me too!!!
This recipe looks amazing and I have never ever had the nerve to even attempt to make it. And now I cannot because how could I possibly write anything better - or even close to what you've written - about brandade? Anyway, I just buy chunks of the stuff and my local butcher, just pop it into the oven, and eat it with a green salad. But it is never as pretty as yours.
Hi Jamie!
Elizabeth!!!! Hi!!!! You beautiful thing, you 🥰
Oh, Jamie...if I worried about making my food look half as good as yours, I'd have stopped Substacking ages ago.
But I am very, very glad you liked this one.
Lord…our love-hate relationship will go on forever! 😂
Yes. I love you and you hate me. It’s a perfect balance.
Oh honey bunch 🥰
Salted cod–scented toilet tank fresheners have been a staple of Hackensacker bathrooms for more than 100 years. And now, thanks to your highly amusing piece, I know that the journey needn't end with my bladder's last drop but can continue on, from toilet to table. Summoning Francisco, our Portuguese cook, to my boudoir even as I type this...
I think "Summoning Francisco" should be the title of your memoir.
Funny and instructive - great combo!
Michael always is. Both. At the same time. It's both marvelous and jealous-making.
Oh, I love that I can make people jealous!
Meeeeeeee!
Thanks very much!
I spent a recent day or two combing through exactly the same MFK Fisher texts in search of a specific reference to having a daughter sit on the pan bagnat in the backseat of the car all the way to a countryside or beach picnic. Never found it; perhaps it was another writer, but I’m sure it was an English language food writer in France in the late forties to early sixties, with a daughter.
I absolutely feel like I've read that from her, too! I've got a really good MFK Fisher story to tell, if my friend (who lived it) will let me.
We must all remember that every dinner we have does eventually meet the toilet so it’s not beyond the realms of imagination. It could also be an ingenious way to murder someone . Put the fish in the cistern, someone drops dead and you’d be like, oh no I pored a liter of Bleach down and forgot about the fish and the Cop that day could be half French and totally understand and not arrest you!!
The gendarmerie are a very understanding sort. Especially when it's nearing lunchtime.
And me an innocent Irishwoman, sure what I know about any mischief!
Toilet tanks really are the unsung hero of kitchen preparedness. On one hot visit to Cinque Terre, we did not have an ice bucket, or ice, for that matter. The cold water of the tank worked beautifully to chill our rosé.
I love this and 100% approve.
I initially thought you were soaking the cod in your bathroom sink and wondered where you were washing your hands after you’d had a pee…🚽
In the bidet, naturally.
😂
We are making this as soon as I remember where I left the salt cod.
It’s a deal!
Foolish young man seeking a career as a cook, ensconced upstairs at Shakespeare & Co. sits surrounded by cookbooks. It’s 1971. I wish I could recall from which book but I copied the circa 1640 recipe for “Brandade de morue, pierre à fusil.” Why a gun flint is part of the name has never been clear. Soaked, boiled, pounded over high heat with repeated additions of alternating milk, olive oil & blanched garlic. Still make it at least once every year. No potatoes.
I go to Shakespeare & Co mainly for the cats.
We Abruzzesi love our baccalà! My mom used to make it for Christmas Eve but I’ve never done it. We just had our bathroom redone at our little house over there so maybe I’ll give it a go next time I’m there 😂
It’s VERY easy. And worth it.
I love brandade. You're bringing it to the next summit.
It's a deal. And I promise to use water from the kitchen.
Oh how considerate of you.
It sounds delicious and reminds me of the plokfiskur I had the last time I was in Iceland. Except I think the only shared ingredients might be potatoes, cream, and salt. The cod was fresh, not salted. Sadly, it’s way too hot and humid in Virginia for a hearty, stick-to-your-ribs fish stew.
I like to think of it as "codfish potato soufflé."