Woo hoo.

Yes, I was admitted to the BBRAA this morning. As I mentioned in a comment on a previous thread, I didn’t ask ESPN to submit my name this year, and did not intend to seek membership, but once my name was submitted, I couldn’t retract my name without getting clearance from the powers that be at the Four-Letter.

I am still unclear on why, exactly, I might need to be a member; after conversations with probably a dozen current members, I think the opposite is true – the BBRAA needed people like me, Rob, etc. as members, to try to boost their credibility as an organization in a time when they receive so much criticism for the backwardness and outright hostility towards intelligent analysis (statistical or scouting) displayed in so much mainstream writing, to say nothing of the RBI/wins fetish in BBRAA voting.

I suppose the plus side is that Tim Raines will get one more Hall of Fame vote in 2018, because Lord knows he’s not getting in any time soon.

Hip-hop hagiographies.

From a CNN story on the rapper Common:

Lyrically, violence has never been his thing; soft-drug use has been mentioned but rarely glamorized; he removed homophobic references from his lyrics years ago; and while there have been hints of misogyny and the occasional N-word in his verses, neither has been a staple of his rhymes.

Well, as long as they’re not staples, that’s okay, then. I’m glad we had this talk.

The Way of All Flesh.

Samuel Butler’s The Way of All Flesh was #12 on the Modern Library 100 (a cheat, since it was written before 1900 but published posthumously) and made the Bloomsbury 100. I don’t usually give up on books, but I’m setting this one aside, at least for now, after making it through less than 15% of the book.

I’ve got two major problems with the novel. One is the sentences, which are positively Proustian (despite coming years before Proustian sentences existed) and meander between dependent and independent clauses that made me dizzy and, worse, disinterested. But the bigger problem for me was Butler’s creation of a central character for whom he has nothing but a deep, pathological loathing. George Pontifex is a weak, insipid man, barely capable of an independent thought, much less an independent decision, and Butler obviously hates him. George’s father, Theobald, is apparently a stand-in for Butler’s own father, so while I guess it’s OK to work out your daddy issues in novel form, the combination of the two characters makes the book start out at the top of a downward spiral, and 40-odd pages in I was still descending. I guess I should never say never – I did return to Tess of the D’Urbervilles 15 years after putting it down after half a chapter – but it ain’t likely.

Instead I’ll start Richard Russo’s Nobody’s Fool on the flight to Vegas.

Cookbooks (for Rob from Brighton).

Anyway, Rob asked a question in chat that would have led to a long non-baseball answer, so I offloaded it here:

Hi Keith, any suggestions on good cookbooks for beginners? I’m not looking for recipes so much as I’m looking for basic principles and techniques–the how’s and why’s of cooking.

Here are a few suggestions:

  • Joy of Cooking, 1997 edition. This was my starter cookbook. It’s pretty comprehensive both in terms of included recipes and ingredient descriptions. The more recent edition took out a lot of useful content, unfortunately.
  • How To Cook Everything: Simple Recipes for Great Food. Another comprehensive-primer book, one I’ve bought for many friends who told me they wanted to learn to cook. I actually don’t own this one; I tend to only buy genre cookbooks now, like The Cuisines of Spain.
  • I’m Just Here for the Food: Version 2.0. I learned to cook primarily via Joy and from Alton Brown, mostly through his TV show, Good Eats. Food Network shows Good Eats reruns daily, so if you watch those and get this, his first book, you’ll be in pretty good shape.

Feel free to add your own suggestions for Rob below.

Cranberry daiquiris.

Here’s the recipe, since some folks have asked for it. It’s from Bon Appetit’s November 2004 issue, but for some reason, it’s not on epicurious. I made one or two tweaks, including adding the cloves.

Be careful. You can get completely hammered on these rather quickly, and drunk cooks don’t make good turkeys.

1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup water
1 cinnamon stick
2-3 whole cloves
1/2 tsp orange peel
1/2 cup cranberries
1/2 cup light rum + 6 Tbsp light rum
6 Tbsp dark rum
6 Tbsp cranberry juice
6 Tbsp lemon juice

1. Dissolve sugar in water in a medium saucepan over moderate heat.
2. Add the cinnamon stick, cloves, and orange peel and bring to a boil.
3. Add the cranberries and cook until they begin to pop.
4. Cool, discarding spices, and pour into a glass container with 1/2 cup light rum. Chill.
5. Strain liquid, saving cranberries for garnish. Add remaining ingredients to pitcher and chill thoroughly.
6. Serve over ice, garnishing with drunken cranberries.

Cranberry sauce meets cranberry daiquiri.

I’ve never bought cranberry sauce. The stuff in the can is just weird – like Jell-O for grownups. I live in one of the biggest cranberry-producing states in the country. And it’s way, way too easy to let someone else do it.

Cranberries are culinary wonders – they’re very high in antioxidants, and because they’re high in pectin and acidic, they only need sugar and water to form a thick jam or preserve. Yes, what we call “cranberry sauce” is nothing more than cranberry jam or preserves. Of course, no one says you have to stop at sugar and water. If cranberry + rum is good in a mixed drink, why wouldn’t it be good in sauce?

This yields at least three pints, and sometimes as much as a cup over that. You can kick it up further with whole spices – leave a cinnamon stick or some star anise pods or a few cloves in the pot and remove them at the end of the cooking process. For smaller spices like cloves, however, you’ll probably want to tie them in a little satchel of cheesecloth. Finding them in a dark, thick liquid like cooked cranberry sauce is not easy.

Cranberry Sauce with Rum and Chambord

8 cups cranberries, rinsed, checked for leaves/stems
3 cups sugar
1¾ cups water
½ cup dark rum
¼ cup Chambord (raspberry liqueur)

1. Place a small saucer in your freezer. Really.
2. Combine all ingredients in a large, heavy pot or saucepan (a Dutch oven works well) over high heat. Bring to a boil, stirring frequently and occasionally skimming any thick foam off the top. Boil until the mixture reaches 220 degrees, or until a large drop placed on that frozen saucer and placed in the freezer for three minutes comes out solid. (Turn the heat on the stove down while you wait to check the sample in the freezer.)
3. The sauce can be stored in a sealed container in your fridge for at least three weeks, or you can put the sauce up in sealed mason jars if you know how to safely can foods.

Thank you.

(This was originally posted on Thanksgiving 2008).

Happy Thanksgiving to all of you, and thank you for reading what was originally intended as nothing more than an outlet for miscellaneous thoughts on books and a way to share notes on restaurants with friends of mine who travel. From those tiny, unambitious beginnings, the dish now reaches over 12,000 people per month, many of whom are regulars. I’ve written 400 posts (this one is #401), and you’ve left over 5,000 comments.

I feel very fortunate to have a dedicated and thoughtful readership, many of whom have followed me from behind the subscriber wall at ESPN.com to read what I write on topics other than baseball. It’s been a wonderful experience for me; I know I’ve improved as a writer, since now I have an obligation to you to finish every thought and check every fact (although I know I still make my share of mistakes), but I’ve also come to know many of you via your comments, via email, via Facebook, and occasionally even by meeting in person. I was concerned at one point that increasing my contact with fans would mean being in touch with lunatics; as it turns out, that’s exactly what happened – most of you are complete lunatics, and I wouldn’t have you any other way, because I am clearly a lunatic too.

So thank you for reading, commenting, calling me out when I’m wrong and backing me up when I’m right, and telling your friends about the dish. The site is what it is because of your participation and feedback. The BBRAA won’t relinquish the RBI until we pry it from their cold, dead hands, but perhaps we’ll make more progress in ridding the world of bad food and subpar literature.

Bluefin tuna.

I’m never sure how seriously to take enviro-scare articles in the mainstream media, although this bit on the threat to bluefin tuna populations seemed somewhat well-researched, keeping the hysteria to quotes from researchers. The article refers to the northern bluefin tuna simply as the bluefin tuna and notes that it has nearly been fished out of existence, with the global population dropping by an estimated 90% in the last thirty years.

Bluefin toro, when it’s fresh, is among the best kinds of sushi you’ll ever have, up there with yellowtail belly and Pacific salmon in my book. Bluefin toro, a fatty cut from the tuna’s belly, falls apart in your mouth, like a very high-quality steak cooked rare, but without the slightly grassy flavor. It is, however, quite expensive – I’ve paid $10 a piece for it before and I’ve seen it cost more than that. I rarely have it, and if living without it for a few years will help restock the oceans, I’m fine with that.

Here’s what I’m not fine with:

Several smaller ICCAT members such as Guatemala and Panama had initially backed a proposal supported by the U.S. and environmental groups to halt all bluefin fishing for nine months of the year, and to crack down hard on violators. But European officials persuaded them to instead adopt a reduced quota of 22,000 tons in 2009, and 19,950 tons in 2011. That certainly represents a sharp drop from last year’s estimated global sales of 61,000 tons of bluefin tuna — and even from this year’s official quota of about 29,000 tons — but it’s still far above the 15,000 tons that marine scientists advise is the limit that can be fished without without the species becoming extinct.

You know, the Europeans do like to lecture us on environmental issues (Kyoto comes to mind), but damn if they don’t change their tune when their own self-interest is at stake. I often say, half-jokingly, that I’ll turn down my thermostat and buy a car with better gas mileage when Russia, Brazil, and Nigeria stop cutting down all of their trees. (Nigeria has already wiped out over 90% of its original forest stock. Good work.) Maybe I should add to that quip one about only giving up eating bluefin toro when the Europeans agree to stop overfishing it.

Good Eats Baklava.

Last week’s episode of Good Eats, “Switched on Baklava,” was one of his best in terms of delivering real instruction, including:

* How to blanch almonds
* How to clarify butter
* The difference between cassia and true cinnamon
* Working with phyllo dough
* How to make your own rose water (okay, you really never needed to know this, but it was cool)

It’s a welcome turnaround from the season opener, “Oh My, Meat Pie,” handily the worst episode in the history of the show. I was a little shocked to see AB cut into his baklava with a paring knife since the knife’s tip would likely scratch the surface of the nonstick pan, but then again, I don’t see myself making baklava any time soon, since I can’t stand pistachios. Even if you’re like me and don’t ever plan to make the stuff, it was worth watching for a few good cooking tips, especially the part about clarifying butter.

BBRAA stuff (from November).

Three lost posts, which I’ll just consolidate into one:

So if you scrutinized the NL MVP voting results, you might have noticed two things:

1. Pujols was listed on every ballot, but one voter had him seventh. That was Milwaukee writer Tom Haudricourt, who put Howard first and had Sabathia and Fielder ahead of Pujols, as well as three Brewers in his ten names.
2. Someone omitted Ryan Howard entirely. That was Fredericksburg Free Lance-Star writer Rich Campbell, who covers the Nationals.

I’ll save other thoughts on the results of this vote – and tomorrow’s, which should be really interesting – for my chat this Thursday.

Edinson Volquez appears on three NL Rookie of the Year ballots, even though he’s not a rookie. It wasn’t even something esoteric like the days-on-the-roster rule; he threw 80 innings for Texas prior to 2008, and the cutoff is 50.

I think the truth about my rejected membership is that I failed the board’s intelligence test – I have some.

UPDATE: The three voters who included Volquez were Jeremy Cothran of the Newark Star-Ledger, John Klima of the Los Angeles Daily News, and Jay Paris of the North County Times in San Diego.

Other – um, harsher – takes: Dugout Central, The Slanch Report, Shysterball, Epic Carnival, Fanhouse.

It’s Pedroia.

Named on 27 of 28 ballots … not sure how I feel about his omission. It could go either way – an anti-stathead/anti-twerp vote, or someone like antone, who looks at production (but not versus replacement-level?) and sees Pedroia’s production as not really MVP-caliber.

UPDATE: Just found this fisking of Paul Sheridan’s anti-intellectual whine today about Ryan Howard not winning the NL MVP award.

UPDATE #2: Evan Grant is the one voter who didn’t include Pedroia, and he said he’ll try to blog about his ballot later today. He did send it to me, and it’s a mix of favorite players of both camps.