Good Eats

Chef Paul, host of Food TV's popular "Great Eats" show, visits the "Beard Home for the Culinarily Confused." He is here to visit his friend "AB" whom he has not seen in over three years. AB is obsessed with working on his script about dips. If he can discover a Unified Dip Theory, the script will be complete and AB will be ready for a triumphant return.

AB's script begins with the "three foot rule." The rule states that to qualify as a dip, as substance must maintain contact with its transport mechanism over three feet of white carpet. Salsa doesn't qualify – too thin – but a mixture of sour cream and onions does. That suggests a basic rule of dips: they must be creamy. Experimentation yields the best base for a dip: two parts sour cream and one part mayonnaise. The emulsifying power of the eggs in mayonnaise helps hold the dip together. Caramelized onions bring complex flavors and colors to the dip. Salt, white pepper, and garlic powder add flavor…

Back at the Beard Home, Chef Paul reminds AB that garlic powder never delivers. AB gets a little worked up explaining why: garlic powder must be allowed to rehydrate. And it won't work well in acid foods like tomato sauce because the acid blocks the flavor. A special kind of garlic powder called high bulk index garlic powder is the answer. It's processed so the particles have more surface area. They rehydrate faster and express flavor more completely. Garlic powder is NOT salty – that's garlic salt, and a lot of grocers confuse the two. The lesson here is to buy spices from a spice vendor.

Alton continues: all kinds of dips are possible as long as they follow a simple formula: a creamy base, one or two main ingredients, and no more than three supporting spices.
Alton demonstrates by deconstructing an artichoke dip – the three spices are garlic, red pepper flakes, and parmesan cheese (yes, here, the cheese is considered a spice). The main players are the artichoke hearts and some spinach, and the base is a mixture of mayonnaise, warmed cream cheese, and sour cream. A crock pot serves to keep the dip warm for serving; Alton disdains chafing dishes as unitaskers.

AB's script continues with the avocado. Alton as a carnival barker extols the weirdness of the avocado (once known as the alligator pear). It's a fruit, despite being more than 20% fat. It doesn't ripen until it is picked and left in an oxygen environment (in a plastic bag, they rot, not ripen). A paper bag concentrates the ethylene outgassed and speeds ripening.

Back in the kitchen, Alton shares the technique he has devised for cutting the avocado. Move the fruit, not the knife. A quick chop and twist of the knife pits the avocado. Of course, now the knife is embedded in the pit. Alton enlists a couple of peasants to expose the hazards of carelessness when removing the pit (might want to slap a leech on that), but Alton's got a tip for that, too. Using his technique will produce fruit that's ready to use without any detours to the emergency room.

A spoon deftly used digs the meat from the tough rind, but this also releases polyphenol oxidase – an enzyme that turns green and yellow pigments brown. Apples, bananas and even humans turn brown for the same reason. Acids can block this action (especially ascorbic and citric acids). Ascorbic acid, better known as vitamin C, doesn't taste very good but citric acid does. Limes have a lot of citric acid and contribute good flavor. Just toss the avocado meat in a bowl with the juice of a lime and it will stay nicely green.

Avocado dips should have the right texture. Pureeing would make them too smooth, so Alton recommends a potato masher. First pour off and save the excess lime juice (enough to prevent browning will cling to the fruit) and add seasonings and spices. Alton's choices include salt, cumin and cayenne pepper. Then mash all that together. One can also mix different types of avocado for varied texture: Hass are better for mashing, while fuerte are better for chopping (because they keep their texture). Once the texture is right, the allied flavors go in: onion, tomato, garlic, jalapeno pepper (seeded, please, or else it will be too hot), and just a little of the saved lime juice.

Back at the Beard Home, AB continues to teach Chef Paul about avocado dip. The flavors must meld and mellow at room temperature – the refrigerator would mute this interaction and make adjusting the flavor difficult. Tightly cover the dip with plastic wrap to keep it from browning – plastic wrap pushed down onto the food works well. While they're on the subject of cold, AB mentions that his institutional bathrobe isn't very warm. Taking the hint, Chef Paul offers his coat and hat.

Chef Paul next asks about pureed dips. AB says pureed is the right choice for a lot of dips – North African, Middle Eastern, Italian, and especially, French. The French invented the mousse – the term comes from the words for foam or froth – a very smooth sort of dip. Alton sets out to build one from a base of chicken livers. Fresh are best, but one can reserve and freeze the livers from chickens used in other meals. Thaw them overnight in milk when they're needed. Milk keeps them hydrated and helps draw out some impurities.

This dip starts with a little melted butter in a saucepan. Into that go some onions, a tart apple, herbs and salt. These get cooked until golden. Then gently stir in the livers (they're fragile). Alton offers several good tips for telling when the livers are properly cooked. When they are, in goes some brandy and the ingredients are simmered briefly.

In a kind of montage, Alton purees the these cooked ingredients with pulses of the food processor. Then he beats a cup of heavy cream to soft peaks and gently folds the cream into the pureed ingredients. Alton folds the half the cream in at a time. A light touch here is essential to a light and fluffy mousse.

Back at the Beard Home, AB's lecture has got him to wondering. He wonders if his long quest for a unified dip theory is a worthwhile goal. Maybe it's enough to be glad that dips exist, to be… AB notices that Chef Paul has stopped to sign an autograph. Realizing he's got Paul's coat and hat – and ID card – Alton makes his escape, leaving Chef Paul to try and explain who he is to the attendants at the Beard Home…