Shrieks "judge," critic Frank Bruni:

Less than $8.50 a person for a full dinner? I didn't see how this budget allowed for much strutting, not even from home cooks as gifted and resourceful as these two kitchen goddesses. Have I mentioned the office seating arrangement?...They took different approaches, reflecting different personalities. Kim's meal was the brasher, spicier one. It shouted "fiesta," tugging us south of the border and encouraging us to eat with our hands. It declared that no budget was too tight for an adventure - a bounteous one at that...Julia's meal was more precise and controlled. Right after a tomato-cilantro soup, served in espresso cups, came an audaciously uncomplicated salad of escarole and nothing more. Correction: there was something more, not obvious to the eye but evident to the palate. Julia had coated her perfectly washed, perfectly crisped greens with a pitch-perfect anchovy dressing. It declared that sophistication didn't have to cost a lot. Kim brandished homemade tortillas for a main course of carnitas. Julia fired back with homemade gougères before a main course of bucatini.

As a general rule, I pride myself on not resorting to the verbal laziness of profanity, but that said: Fuck that shit.

Not only is $50 for six no challenge to a cook on a normal budget (see: any issue of Taste of Home), not only is such a "competition" an insult to those of us who adhere to such constraints, not only is the raillery of the contest precious and irritating, but, the menus are too intricate for the average working person to tackle. Not the point? Maybe not - but it's a further bit of alienation for those of us who cook as a daily necessity.

No one's making a habit of this, but you want a menu? I got a menu for you. Easy, cheap, good, and real life-approved. (All serves 6-8 per challenge.)

Chicken with Smothered Potatoes:
(Adapted from Marion Cunningham)

T olive oil, extra-virgin
1 chicken, under 3 lb., butterflied
Salt and pepper, to taste
3 medium red onions, peeled and cut into quarters
8 new potatoes, cut into 1" chunks
1 T chopped fresh rosemary
2 large cloves garlic, finely chopped

1. Preheat oven to 425°.
2. Film a 9 x 13-inch baking dish with 1 T olive oil.
3. If you haven't bought a butterflied chicken: split chicken along the edge of its backbone with sharp knife. Then cut along other side of backbone and remove it. Remove fat pads from around breast and cavity.
4. Salt and pepper onions and potatoes.
5. Place potatoes in middle of baking dish.
6. Sprinkle with rosemary and garlic.
7. Flatten chicken out over potatoes.
8. Surround with onions.
9. Drizzle remaining 2 T olive oil over chicken and salt and pepper generously.
10. Roast for 45 - 50 min. or until chicken skin is nicely browned.
11. Pour off all liquid.
12. Serve hot or cold.

For vegetarians or vegans, I like this:

Root Vegetable Couscous
(From Nigella)
3 T olive oil
2 med. onions, quartered & sliced thickly
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 t each ground cinnamon, cumin & coriander
1/2 t paprika
generous pinch of saffron (if you have it around)
3 med. carrots, peeled & cut into a 1 inch dice
2 med. parsnips, peeled & cut into 1 inch dice
2 medium turnips, peeled & cut into a 1 inch dice
1 small kabocha or butternut squash, peeled & cut into a 1 inch dice
1/2 med. rutabaga, peeled & cut into a 1 inch dice
3 zucchini sliced 1/2 inch thick (you can peel if you like)
4 1/2 cut chicken, beef or vegetable stock
1/2 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes with liquid
2/3 c sultanas
1 1/2 c (14 oz each) chickpeas
salt
few drops chili oil or 1 t harissa if you have it

1/2 c pine nuts
4 c quick-cooking couscous
2 T butter

1. Heat the olive oil in a big, deep pot & turn the onions in it for a few minutes.
2. Add the garlic, cinnamon, cumin, coriander, paprika and saffron, and stir over low to medium heat for 5 minutes.
3. Add the carrots, parsnips, turnips, squash, rutabaga and zucchini and turn briskly.
4.After about 5 minutes add the stock, tomatoes, orange zest, sultanas and chickpeas. Turn again & try to get everything at least partially covered by the stock. Add more stock or water if needed. Season with salt.
5. Cook for 20-30 minutes, until the vegetables are tender but not mushy (at least not all of them - some will be beginning to fray around the edges, and that is good) and the liquid has formed a thin but not watery sauce.
6.Taste and chili oil or the harissa if you want it to have more punch.

Serve with couscous, pine nuts.

For dessert, this is good.

You'll be well under "budget." Although I can't vouch for the adventure quotient.

Old World With New Twists [New York Times]
A Mexican Feast With Artisanal Technique [New York Times]
Comrades at Arms: Two Food Writers in a Kitchen Smackdown [New York Times]

We assume that First Ladies' days are filled with a lot of traditional social planning, but it's still a little disconcerting to see Michelle in full-on Mamie Eisenhower mode. That, however, is far less odd than the exhaustive rundown from the Chicago Sun Times' blog, which informs us intently that "The president loves scallops," the first fam enjoys The White House Huckleberry Cobbler, Michelle likes some creamless creamed spinach, but Sasha won't eat it.

The occasion for this report is the National Governors Association meeting, apparently a black tie dinner with dancing at the White House. Michelle, social secretary Rogers, the White House chef and pastry chef and a bunch of local students previewed the menu. Besides a moment when Michelle calls some Wilson china "Truman" and says "I don't have my china down yet," it's hard to know whether the reporter was, you know, there, or just getting feeds from some Us Weekly- style source.

I'll spare you the exhaustive rundown of china, silver, glassware, flowers and centerpiece arrangements, but here's the menu:

Chesapeake Crab Agnolottis with Roasted Sunchokes
Wine pairing: Spottswoode Sauvignon Blanc 2007 (California)

Wagyu Beef and Nantucket Scallops with Glazed Red Carrots, Portobello Mushroom and Creamed Spinach
Wine pairing: Archery Summit Pinot Noir "Estate" 2004 (Oregon)

Winter Citrus Salad with Pistachios and Lemon Honey Vinaigrette

Huckleberry Cobbler with Caramel Ice Cream
Wine pairing: Black Star Famrs "A Capella" Riesling Ice Wine 2007 (Michigan)

First Lady Michelle Obama, Desiree Rogers preview White House dinner tonight. Menu. Pool reports [Chicago Sun Times]

Some people are visual. Some are mathematical. Others of us, like MFK Fisher, are gastronomical. And when you are, you sort of think of everything through the lens of food. As such, food scenes in books get imprinted on your mind, and books without food - however amazing they might be - are always lacking something. The novelist Laurie Colwin loved cookbooks because they're just food, but for some of us, being greedy, we want food and plot, food as vehicle, as plot device, as character illuminator, as window to the soul and tummy. And it can't just be cold, clinical descriptions of food, either, like in Madame Bovary. there has to be palpable relish to the descriptions. Even if, as in The Magic Mountain, you know it's standing in for the complacent excess of modern Europe, the food must be appetizing. In short, the best food descriptions are written by authors who clearly love to eat, even if they conscientiously temper this with philosophy.

A bad book cannot be saved by an amazing meal, obviously, but it's also true that those who can write fictional food well — be it Elizabeth Bishop or Maya Angelou — can generally also convey emotion and style in a satisfactory fashion. And as a food prose glutton, we are always looking for more and better meals to read and remember, be it Barbara Pym's salmon mousses or the Sunday Night Lunches of the Betsy-Tacy series. If this sounds like a call for food scenes, it is: in books, as in life, enough is never enough, and a good meal is worth a thousand words.

The Exchange: Alice Waters [New Yorker]

[Image via fortsanders.net]

There was recently an anthology released, Alone in the Kitchen With an Eggplant (based on a terrific Laurie Colwin essay of the same name) composed entirely of essays on the pleasures of eating alone: the opportunities for iconoclastic experimentation and self-pampering. One assumes that virtuous French-woman-style lifestyle plans involve much of this sort of "because I'm worth it" behavior, and there's certainly something appealing about the fantasy of being the sort of woman who pours herself a glass of wine, whips up creme brulee for one and dines solo by candlelight because she enjoys her own company so much!

For most of us, eating alone falls somewhere between this twee self-catering and the cliche of the lonely diner eating cold Chinese food or a cup of Ramen. In some ways, the whole "eating alone" phenomenon seems to make it a bigger deal than it needs to be — like you need to face the reality of a single existence and embrace it! Haven't people always cooked for themselves? Then too, it's not like most of us live in French villages or near great butchers: it can be hard to get just that one exquisite chicken breast or single fresh roll, not to mention pricey. I for one have never been so sensitive that it made me cry when I saw a recipe listing quantities for four — I can do basic division if needed and don't require my own, special recipes. Besides, when I cook four portions of a meal, it's not because I couldn't figure our how to make less or because I'm in denial and expect a bunch of phantom guests, but rather because if I'm going to the trouble, I want to get several days' worth of meals out of my work.

I guess in the old days, single working girls weren't thought to eat much — those retro Helen Gurley Brown types were probably thought to either smoke their meals or let a date pick up the tab, and in a lot of ways "cooking for one" seems to be code for "women" — single women who like and appreciate good food. Or, alternatively, older people who, I guess the thinking goes, can't figure out how to cook for less than a whole family. And that's nice, but I think we can handle it. And you know, those days I have a bowl of cold cereal for dinner, it's not out of some deep self-loathing or lack of self-esteem. I do it because I can, and it's easy, and it's a luxury you don't have when you're cooking for other people. Oh, and it's really easy to measure a single serving.

Cooking for One? That Means You Can Have Your Steak And Freeze It, Too. [Washington Post]

Earlier: Why Takeout Is Evil And Other Stuff To Feel Guilty About