The following set of criteria is what jjzach & I use for the purposes of clam chowder quality evaluation. This system was devised in partnership with our friends, Kelly & Erika, on the back of a napkin about a year ago.

• Thicknocity – the viscosity/thickness of the chowder. Is it brothy? Creamy?
• Aroma – does it give off an appealing scent?
• Clam Content – This can hopefully be gauged by a good stir. Quality of the clams would also fall under this criterion.
• Temperature – When served, it can be too hot as well as too cold
• Flavor Balance – aka, predominant flavor. Is there one? Does it drown out everything else?
• Seasoning – aka, “Zip”
• Potato Quality - chunk size, peel on or off (this could be good or bad), mushy or firm
• Absence of Grit - clams live in sandy muck. Proper cleaning is required. Some tasters find a modicum of grit acceptable and see it as a sign of homemade-ness.
• X-Factor - the unexpected!
• Digestibility - how do you feel afterwards? How about 45 minutes into the ride home in the backseat?

These are mostly subjective measurements, of course. Some folks, for example, like their chowder thick and creamy and might rate highly a variation in which their spoon stands up in the cup. Needless to say, others would give that a very low Thicknocity score.

Fascinating.

My favorite is the gas range. I like how when everything is off the flat lever controls make a nice straight line, giving you a visual clue, even from a distance, that one of the burners is on. Don Norman would approve.

My least favorite aspect? Probably the submarine galley nature of it all: exposed pipes, that hulking gas hot water heater, and the 6″ threshold between the kitchen and the bathroom. I hope they keep a good supply of incense matches in there.

While in Israel a month ago for work, some of my co-workers took me for a lunchtime humus adventure to a place called Taami. It’s a hummus-slinging hole-in-the-wall in downtown Jerusalem. The owner is infamous for rushing customers through their meal once they’ve been served so that he can turn the table. “Don’t chew–swallow!” and “What’s taking you so long? There’s no bones in hummus!” are were frequently heard examples.

I think the atmosphere has calmed a bit since those days and we were allowed to take our time. Each of us was served what would be a largish salad-plate sized mound of hummus, covered with whole chick peas and swimming in a moat of luscious olive oil. We also finished off a shared dish of beans w/ rice, a plate of stewed okra and a couple dozen falafel. I skipped dinner that night I was still so stuffed.

I’m not the only one who enjoyed their visit. And googling for “Taami Jerusalem” turned up this writeup in the Globe that I somehow missed.

Sorry, no recipe available. Also, I didn’t have a camera and I couldn’t find any authentic pictures of Taami; the photo above I found online and it is actually from a place called Lina in the Old City where I’m sure they also have excellent hummus.

Jenny & I had the pleasure of attending the opening game of the Arkansas Razorbacks football season in Fayetteville, AR last weekend. If you’ve never experienced the tailgate scene surrounding Razorback home games, it looks something like this:

Except imagine that crowd spread in a radius of 1/2 mile around the stadium. Our seats, FYI, were about 10 rows down from the top, right below that middle light pole.

The huge Razorback smoker pictured sits at a point above the north rim of the stadium and is visible from just about any seat. When the Hogs score a touchdown, it emits a blast of smoke from the snout, like this:

I wish I could say I got to try some of those ribs, but we’d already feasted on some delicious tailgate fare provided by a friend of my Dad’s.

Final score: USC Trojans 50, Razorbacks 14. Thanks to Uncle Joe & Melva for the tix.