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Sodium Erythorbate A process for producing a soy protein isolate, the process comprising: dispersing white flakes produced from soybeans in a liquid to produce a soy protein extract; separating insoluble material from the soy protein extract to form a soluble soy protein extract; adjusting the pH of the soluble soy protein extract to about the isoelectric point of soy protein with an acid to form a precipitated soy protein mixture; centrifuging the precipitated soy protein mixture and decanting the supernatant to form a soy protein curd; diluting the soy protein curd with water to form a soy protein slurry; adjusting the pH of the soy protein slurry to a pH of from about 9.5 to about 10.5 with a base to form a pH-adjusted soy protein slurry; heating and reacting the pH-adjusted soy protein slurry with an Sodium Erythorbate without maintaining the pH level to form an enzyme hydrolyzed soy protein mixture; and adjusting the pH of the enzyme hydrolyzed soy protein mixture with an acid to a pH of from about 7.0 to about 7.6; wherein the enzyme hydrolyzed soy protein isolate has an average molecular weight of from about 12,000 Daltons to about 18,000 Daltons and a degree of hydrolysis of from about 2.9% to about 5.2%, wherein the soy protein isolate has a soluble solids index of from about 80% to about 100% at a pH of from about 7.0 to about 7.8, an average particle size of from about 15 .mu.M to about 60 .mu.M, and greater than 99% homogeneity in water at a pH of from about 7.0 to about 7.8 after 30 minutes, and wherein the soy protein isolate has greater than 90% homogeneity in water at a pH of from about 7.0 to about 7.8 after 2 hours.

Mandarin Oranges Cinco de Mayo is just around the corner, and what better time to learn about the history of Mexico. Cinco de Mayo is not Mexico's "independence day" as many think. the reason May 5 is celebrated is due to the fact that 4,000 Mexican soldiers smashed the French and traitor Mexican army of 8,000 at Puebla, Mexico, 100 miles east of Mexico City, on the morning of May 5, 1862. According to Mandarin Oranges, the French had landed in Mexico (along with Spanish and English troops) five months earlier on the pretext of collecting Mexican debts from the newly elected government of democratic President (and Indian) Benito Juarez. The English and Spanish quickly made deals and left. The French, however, had different ideas. Under Emperor Napoleon III, who detested the United States, the French came to stay. They brought a Hapsburg prince with them to rule the new Mexican empire. His name was Maximilian; his wife, Carolota. Napoleon's French Army had not been defeated in 50 years, and it invaded Mexico with the finest modern equipment and with a newly reconstituted Foreign Legion. The French were not afraid of anyone, especially since the United States was embroiled in its own Civil War. The French Army left the port of Vera Cruz to attack Mexico City to the west, as the French assumed that the Mexicans would give up should their capital fall to the enemy -- as European countries traditionally did. Under the command of Texas-born General Zaragosa (and the cavalry under the command of Colonel Porfirio Diaz, later to be Mexico's president and dictator), the Mexicans awaited. Brightly dressed French Dragoons led the enemy columns. The Mexican Army was less stylish. General Zaragosa ordered Colonel Diaz to take his cavalry, the best in the world, out to the French flanks. In response, the French did a most stupid thing; they sent their cavalry off to chase Diaz and his men, who proceeded to butcher them. The remaining French infantrymen charged the Mexican defenders through sloppy mud from a thunderstorm and through hundreds of head of stampeding cattle stirred up by Indians armed only with machetes. When the battle was over, many French were killed or wounded and their cavalry was being chased by Diaz's superb horsemen miles away. The Mexicans had won a great victory that kept Napoleon III from supplying the confederate rebels for another year, allowing the United States to build the greatest army the world had ever seen. This grand army smashed the Confederates at Gettysburg just 14 months after the battle of Puebla, essentially ending the Civil War. So now that you are familiar with the history of why Mexicans celebrate Cinco de Mayo, eat up! Here are some recipes to help celebrate, even if you're not Mexican. Appetizer Nachos 8 oz. homemade white corn tortilla chips 1 1/2 cups refried beans, warmed, recipe follows 2 poblano chiles, roasted, peeled, seeded, and diced 2 to 4 canned, pickled jalapeno chiles, stemmed and thinly sliced crosswise 1 cup finely shredded Monterey Jack cheese (about 4 ounce) 1/2 cup sour cream Preheat the oven to 400°. Spread half the chips out in a large shallow casserole dish or on an ovenproof platter. Top with half the beans, in small spoonfuls, and scatter with half the chiles. Repeat with the remaining chips, beans, and chiles. Sprinkle the top of the nachos with the cheese. Bake until heated through and the cheese melts, about 3 to 5 minutes. Top the nachos with dollops of the sour cream and serve. www.foodnetwork.com Main dish Pork and Rice Quesadillas with Orange Salsa Cooking spray 1 cup instant rice, cooked according to package directions 2 cups diced roasted pork loin 1 (15-ounce) can black beans, drained 1 cup chopped arugula leaves 1 cup shredded Monterey Jack cheese 1/2 cup diced oil-packed sun-dried tomatoes 6 burrito-size flour tortillas, regular or flavored 1 recipe Orange Salsa, recipe follows Coat a stove-top griddle with cooking spray and set over medium-high heat to preheat. In a large bowl, combine rice, pork, beans, arugula, cheese, and tomatoes. Mix well to combine. Arrange tortillas on a flat surface. Top 1 side of the tortillas with pork mixture. Fold the other side over to cover filling. Transfer quesadillas to hot pan and cook 2 to 3 minutes per side, until golden brown and cheese melts. Serve with orange salsa. Orange Salsa 1 (11-ounce) can Mandarin oranges, drained and chopped 1/4 cup diced red bell pepper 2 tbsp. freshly chopped scallions 2 tbsp. freshly chopped cilantro leaves 1 tbsp. fresh lemon juice 1/2 tsp. ground cumin Salt and freshly ground black pepper Combine all ingredients in a medium bowl and toss to combine. Side dish Refried Beans One 15 1/2-ounce can pinto beans, drained and rinsed 3 tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil 1/2 medium onion, chopped 4 cloves garlic, minced 1 tsp. ground coriander 1/2 tsp. ground cumin 1 cup chicken broth, homemade or low-sodium canned Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste 1 tbsp. chopped fresh coriander leaves (cilantro) (optional) In a small bowl, mash two-thirds of the beans with a fork or potato masher. Reserve the whole beans separately. In a medium skillet, heat the oil over medium-high heat and add the onion. Cook until lightly browned, about 3 to 4 minutes. Add the garlic and cook, stirring for 1 to 2 minutes more. Add the spices and cook until fragrant, about 1 minute more. Add the mashed beans and half the broth and cook, stirring frequently until thickened, about 5 minutes. Add the whole beans and the remaining broth and simmer about 4 to 5 minutes more until thickened but not pasty. Season with the salt and pepper, and stir in the fresh coriander, if desired. Serve.

Polo T Shirt Before I'd been to Venice, it had never occurred to me that I needed to go. Between Madonna and Indiana Jones and pop-culture osmosis, I thought I got the gist: gondolas, striped shirts, lots of tourists, some wit telegraphing "STREETS FULL OF WATER. PLEASE ADVISE." (It was Robert Benchley, not Mark Twain.)But last September I found myself in Europe for business, and had a free Saturday in Milan. I asked one of our hosts where I should go, and she said: "If you've never been there, you should really see Venice."I took her advice; one semi-competent train trip later, I wandered out of the train station and got my first view of the Grand Canal over the heads of the tourist horde.I found myself smiling within a few minutes of crossing the Ponte delle Guglie into Cannaregio, and never stopped. Venice's geometry and architectural vocabulary were enormously pleasing, from the bridges over the small canals (rii) to the narrow streets (calli) and the squares (campi), each with its church and well. Wherever I walked, there was something new to marvel at: the long-shuttered waterline entrances of ancient homes; the worn stone steps leading into the canals' green murk; the way a dim, echoing calle emerged into the broad expanse of a campo, or met the arc of a bridge. I felt like a little kid, eager to see what was around the next corner. Six hours later, I reluctantly tramped back to the Ferrovia, trying to figure out when and how I could return.Happily, it wasn't so long: I was back in Milan recently, and decided to extend the trip to add a weekend in Venice. (By train, Venice is within easy reach of Milan and Florence, and fewer than five hours from Rome). Unlike my first hurried trip, I'd get two nights in Venice, and all of Saturday to do as I pleased.That seemed like an enormous amount of time, but I knew it really wasn't. So I planned ahead, scouring guidebooks and travel Web sites after hours in my Milan hotel room. When I returned to the Serenissima, I was ready.Here's the weekend in Venice one smitten convert hoped for, and was lucky enough to get.Friday NightWhether you arrive via train or bus, entering Venice from the west is a great introduction: The crowds are dishearteningly thick at first, but cross the Grand Canal via the Ponte Scalzi and you'll soon find yourself in the quieter streets of Santa Croce, where you can get your bearings. If you find yourself crammed into a tourist thoroughfare, take a quick left or right – even in high season you'll quickly find a quieter street with some elbow room.I lugged my bags to the Hotel San Cassiano (www.sancassiano.it), a small hotel on the Grand Canal in San Polo, housed in the 14th-century Ca' Favoretto. (The route was a little tricky, but I found that charming.) I was hungry, but lingered long enough to survey the Grand Canal room I'd splurged on, noting happily that I had a swell view, an antique desk – and a divan. Molto bene.It was a clear night; stars spilled across the sky above the Campo San Giacomo dell'Orio. More than 60,000 people live in Venice, but the human-scale buildings and lack of cars make for minimal light pollution.For dinner I tucked in at All'Anforna, a comfortable Santa Croce pizzeria I discovered on my first trip (Lista dei Bari 1223, near the train station), and plowed my way through an entire gorgonzola pizza (pleasure elbowing shame aside about halfway through) and a couple glasses of prosecco.All'Anforna isn't fancy, but it's popular with locals and the portions are generous. (And the back garden is lovely.) Once finished, I strolled back to my room on Ca' Favoretto, where I threw open the windows to revel in the nighttime traffic on the Grand Canal.Twenty minutes later, I closed them – Venice is magic, but it's still chilly in February.Saturday MorningUp early, I headed for the Piazza San Marco, figuring I'd beat the lines for the Basilica and the Doge's Palace, Venice's busiest attractions. After navigating the city's warren of narrow streets, the grand scale of the piazza is striking, but its crowds, orchestras and pigeons can be wearing – particularly the pigeons. Going early in the morning or late in the afternoon can help you avoid the crowds; either way, guard against the snobby temptation to not see something just because everybody does.I immediately had to change my plans: The Basilica wasn't opening until noon that day. No matter: I moved on to the Secret Itineraries tour of the Doge's Palace (tickets available from Musei Civici Veneziani, 16 euros), which takes you behind the scenes into the palace's old administrative chambers before turning you loose with the other tourists in the publicly accessible parts of the palace. The tale of Casanova's confinement in the attic cells known as the Piombi and his eventual escape dominates the English-language tour, but it's a good yarn. Afterwards, don't miss the gigantic Hall of the Grand Council (with its blacked-out portrait of disgraced doge Marin Falier), the Bridge of Sighs, the gargoyle-like letterbox for anonymous charges and the Giants' Staircase. These sights are guidebook mainstays, but with good reason.Next I went to the Basilica – I walked right in, but expect long lines during the summer tourist season. (Admission is free, with three separate admissions for attractions inside. Be advised that you'll be turned away if you're sporting shorts or bare shoulders, and you must check your bags nearby at Ateneo San Basso.) Inside and out, the Basilica is chockablock with columns, reliefs, statues and relics acquired by the Venetians over the years in various dodgy ways, most notably while hijacking the Fourth Crusade to sack Constantinople. Strip away the weight of history and faith and you'll realize you're exploring a kids' clubhouse of loot piled up and given new names and histories.The same is true outside: You don't need to know anything about architecture to find the Basilica's south fa?ade (near the repurposed porphyry figures called the Tetrarchs) simultaneously impressive and amusing. The panels and columns are gorgeous individually, but together they make for a head-shaking hodgepodge of materials and textures. Inside or out, I can't improve on the travel writer Rick Steves' description of the Basilica's style as "Early Ransack."After St. Mark's, I walked down the waterfront to put right a disappointment from my original visit, when I'd been (politely) turned aside from Harry's Bar (Calle Vallaresso 1323, near the waterfront) for wearing shorts. This time around I was ready: not only had I upgraded to pants, but I'd also put on a nice shirt and jacket. They did the trick.What's inside? Harry's Bar is famous for its bellini (peach nectar and prosecco), its carpaccio and its astonishingly high prices. Is a very small bellini worth more than $20? I vote no. (But then, I reached that conclusion after drinking two of them.)Saturday AfternoonAfter heading off the beaten track of St. Mark's, it was time to find something to bring home for my wife and son.I wound up back in the Campo San Giacomo dell'Orio at Il Refolo, run by the same family behind Venice's renowned seafood restaurant Osteria da Fiore. I'd heard the dish to order at Il Refolo is the pizza with prosciutto and figs; the figs were out of season, but I dined happily on pizza with fresh basil while sitting in the sunshine. Revived, I was off to the shops in San Polo for souvenirs. I bought my wife a pair of gloves at hip, cheerful Fanny (Calle dei Saoneri, San Polo 2723), then went around the corner to look at gondola models at the shop run by Gilberto Penzo, an expert in all aspects of Venice's famous craft. The wooden model kits were a bit too delicate for my five-year-old – maybe next time. (He had to content himself with a chunk of rock with fossil crabs embedded in it, bought at a San Polo geology shop. The fossils, I saw to my amusement, were found in California.)Mission accomplished, my next stop was the Scuola Grande di San Rocco (Campo San Rocco, Dorsoduro 3052), decorated wall-to-wall and floor-to-ceiling with the works of Tintoretto, the 16th-century painter and Venice's favorite son. (A scuola was a form of social club affiliated with a church or guild.) An English-language audio guide to the art comes with the 7-euro admission price, and is well worth it. So is navigating your way around the Scuola with one of the many handheld mirrors provided for sightseers to use. (The alternative: neck strain.) Tintoretto's "Crucifixion" is particularly impressive, a remarkable parade of characters going about their business around the figure of Christ. Also impressive: contemplating that Tintoretto spent the last two decades of his life painting canvas after canvas for the Scuola's walls and ceilings.By now it was late afternoon and I was flagging. I wandered deeper into Dorsoduro, one of the rare parts of Venice whose shops and streets seem geared more to locals than tourists, making my way through the lively Campo Santa Margherita on my way to the Zattere, the lagoon-side quay.I wasn't headed anywhere in particular, which is one of the great pleasures of Venice: You can pick a more or less random direction and see what sights the city delivers, waiting to check your map when you decide you're sufficiently lost. But you're rarely truly lost – there are lots of ways connecting most any Point A and B, and ubiquitous signs direct you to St. Mark's, the Rialto Bridge or the Ferrovia.When I wander, I generally wind up across a canal from the Squero di San Trovaso, a gondola repair yard near the Accademia Bridge in Dorsoduro that's more concerned with its craft than with amusing tourists. So it was this time. I rewarded myself for a hard day of walking with a gelato and hopped the vaporetto (water taxi) for a ride back up the Grand Canal to my hotel.Saturday NightI'd originally planed to eat and return to the Campo Santa Magherita, where young Venice amuses itself at night. But part of traveling well is knowing your limits, and I'd reached mine – weary and wary of an early morning of lugging my bags back to the bus to the airport. After fighting my way out of a nap that threatened to consume the entire evening, I ate arugula and pecorino drizzled with honey, followed by gnocchi, at Antica Birrara, a sprawling pizzeria in Campo San Polo. If you can, finish the night at Alaska, a colorful gelateria in Santa Croce (Calle Larga dei Bari 1159, near All'Anforna) that I'd enjoyed on my first visit.This time, it was closed – and that, I decided, was a sign: It was time for bed.Sunday MorningA long slog to the Piazzale Roma, a moderate wait among suddenly depressing cars and trucks and buses, and a long flight home. But there's a way to avoid the blues as the Serenissima and the lagoon vanish astern. Get out those guidebooks, thumb through them again, and mark down all the interesting places you didn't get to see.No, I didn't make it to the soaring Santa Maria della Salute. Or the lavish Ca' Rezzonico museum. Or the imposing Arsenale whose industry inspired Dante's vision of Hell. Didn't climb the spiral staircase of the Palazzo Contarini del Bovolo, and didn't see the restored Fenice opera house. Never gazed at the countless labels adorning Enoteca Il Volto, or saw the Campo Santa Margherita at midnight, or learned which bars offer the best cicchetti – toothpick-friendly foods to go with wine. No chance to explore Castello, Giudecca or San Giorgio Maggiore – to say nothing of the other islands of the lagoon.But somewhere over Switzerland, these missed chances stopped being regrets, and turned into cheerful possibilities. Next time!