Meet the Stacked Goudette. She's no baby gouda! I didn't want to part with the many pennies it would take to get gouda or baby gouda molds so I formed the curd inside the same small sized hard cheese mold I used for my first farmhouse cheddar. Sometimes beautiful things happen when you have to improvise - I'm hoping my Goudette is one of those. Baby goudas (not the Laughing Cow Babybell kind, I'm talkin' about the real deal) weigh a little less than a pound, while a full sized gouda wheel can weigh up to 30lbs. The Goudette is weighing in at 2lbs after a swim in the brine this morning and a day drying out. Who knows what changes in flavor and texture the stacked shape will create... I guess we'll find out in 2-6 months!
DUCK PROSCIUTTO! (that's right)
How does this heaping pile of deliciousness not deserve all caps and an exclaimation point!? I felt truly rich when we unwrapped the butchers paper and unveiled the freshly sliced centerfold bounty above. This wasn't just any cured meat - this was "prosciutto" I'd cured in our refrigerator! Somehow, magically it seemed, we had transformed a raw duck breast into something amazingly tasty using only the power of time and a little cool air. Want to give it a try?
Duck Prosciutto (modified from Michael Ruhlman's recipe in Charcuterie)
Into the Void
Two weeks ago, I had a meeting with my boss. In one of those chilling moments you might have played out in your head when someone mentioned a “double dip”, he told me that “x brand” I direct is downsizing and can’t afford to have me anymore. Then a huge grin broke out on his face as he told me not to worry because, guess what?! There was a new job all lined up for me. The company that owns the small young designer label I direct(ed) also owns a massive Target-like brand that was just launched in Australia. The same senior director position there was open for me to take - take or be out of a job.
From an ethical and environmental perspective, joining this company would be like jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire. From a personal sanity point of view, it would have meant going from a scrappy, creative, studio where I create a collection with a pencil, fabric, my team and a master patternmaker, to massive 3 floor offices where “hands on” means tearing pages out of magazines (of things to rip off) and shopping (for things to rip off). But - it would have been a job. Had we not embarked upon this journey, there is no doubt in my mind that I would have taken it for a few months while I searched for something more in line with my skill set, gulping down half a bottle of wine every night and trying hard not to verbally vomit my stress all over Scrapple. I’ve been there before and although it isn’t pretty, it’s life.
But I didn’t. After a talk with Scrapple, I quit.
I quit!