5@5 - Chef Michael Schlow
December 2nd, 2010
05:00 PM ET
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5@5 is a daily, food-related list from chefs, writers, political pundits, musicians, actors, and all manner of opinionated people from around the globe.

Fraggle Rock(s). Cleveland rocks. Aerosmith rocks. You know what else rocks? Being a chef. Just ask Michael Schlow.

Schlow is the executive chef and owner of Radius, Via Matta and Alta Strada restaurants. You may also recognize the James Beard Award-winning chef from season one of  "Top Chef Masters."

Five Reasons I Love Being A Chef: Michael Schlow

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Filed under: 5@5 • Chefs • Think

December 2nd, 2010
04:00 PM ET
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The House of Representatives passed a sweeping child nutrition bill Thursday designed to promote better eating habits in part by giving the federal government more authority to set standards for food sold in vending machines and other venues on school grounds.

Among other things, the $4.5 billion measure provides more money to poor areas to subsidize free meals and requires schools to abide by health guidelines drafted by the U.S. Department of Agriculture. To help offset the higher cost of including more fruits and vegetables, the bill increases the reimbursement rate for school lunches.

Read Congress passes sweeping child nutrition bill on CNN Politics and see what Tom Colicchio, Alice Waters, Jamie Oliver and others have to say about school lunch reform

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Filed under: Food Politics • News • School Lunch

December 2nd, 2010
03:00 PM ET
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Box lunch
December 2nd, 2010
12:00 PM ET
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Sink your teeth into today's top stories from around the globe.

  • Why's everybody always picking on Maraschino cherries? - Serious Eats

  • What began with, "Uh, there's a lizard in my airplane dinner," ends in a lawsuit. - Gawker

  • An ex-con's inspiring journey from prison to DC's Central Kitchen.– The Atlantic

  • Meet hypoallergenic wine: the labradoodles for oenophiles. - TIME
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Filed under: Box Lunch • News

December 2nd, 2010
11:00 AM ET
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You can't out-cook a ghost.

Goodness knows I have tried. I've spent hours, days, weeks, months in pursuit of the perfect biscuits, hauling ingredients from my husband's native North Carolina to our Brooklyn apartment, putting my lard-smeared hands on every text I could find and cornering octogenarian in-laws at holiday dinners. Moreover, I have rolled, beaten, patted and whispered to endless dough batches, made my own butter and buttermilk (the mention of that effort earned me a high-pitched "Sh*t, girl!” from none other than Paula Deen, and I will never get tired of telling people that), gone ice-less so as to accommodate more flour varieties in the freezer and I swear unto the heavens, I never, ever twist the biscuit cutter.

Still, I come giddily bearing the star of each batch, butter-slathered and piping hot, and study my husband's face as he takes the first bite. He's appreciative and unfailingly complimentary - a Southern gentleman, after all - but deep down, I know it's never going to measure up to the ones his long-departed Memama and her housekeeper Nettie rolled out on a linen pillowcase and served to him as a child. I've learned to be okay with that.

Grandmothers are canonized in Southern cooking, and while it's taken as read that your own cooking, with rare exception, will pale in comparison, willful deviation...doesn't go over so well.

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