Fat Guy

I think there's little question that a Shun is a step up from a Wusthof Classic. The only arguable advantages I can think of on the Wusthof side are that 1- they're probably a bit more resilient when it comes to something like chopping through bones, and 2- they're surely easier to sharpen (though they have bolsters, which is a disadvantage when sharpening). As to whether that's worth the price of a Shun when you already have a Wusthof, well, I'm grappling with that very question myself. Certainly, you can have a long and happy cooking life with just Wusthof knives. But the Shun knives are better. I don't like the traditional Japanese octagonal handles very much. I like the D-shaped handle on the Shun a lot, though I think Western handles are the best. Handle preference are really personal, though. Also, it matters how you grip your knife. If you use a pinch grip the handle becomes much less relevant. If you grip the actual handle the shape of the handle is more important.

I've been thinking about possibly making a couple of new knife purchases. My friend Sean has acquired a diverse collection of kitchen knives over the course of a multi-year obsession. So we thought we'd take the opportunity this weekend to go through all his knives and make some comparisons. Here's the knife collection: To break it down into two groups, going from left to right: 1. First two Chinese cleavers. Sean's friend brought these back for him from China so there aren't a lot of details available about them. This one is for vegetables. 2. And this is a Chinese cleaver for bone breaking and other heavy lifting. 3. The Ryusen Blazen gyuto in the 270mm size, from Epicurean Edge 4. Global 10.5" chef's knife 5. Henckels 4-star 10" chef's knife 6. Kumagoro hammered-finish gyuto, 240mm 7. Shun classic 8" chef's knife (Granton edge) 8. Henckels Professional S 8" chef's knife 9. Kasumi 180mm santoku 10. Takeda 180mm -- this is either a gyuto or a banno funayuki-bocho, we're not 100% sure and the shapes are quite similar 11. Wusthof Classic 9" slicer 12. Mac SB105 10.5" bread knife 13. Kikuichi Carbon Elite 240mm sujihiki 14. Henckels 4-star 8" bread knife 15. Another Henckels knife. As you might have deduced, Sean started his knife odyssey with a set of Henckels knives and has slowly retired them. 16. Tojiro DP honesuki 150mm 17&18. More Global knives 19. Shun paring knife (3.5") 20-23. Assorted paring and utility knives 24. A Japanese nikiri of unknown provenance, purchased in Asia 25-27. Henckels four-star santoku, utility and cleaver (up top) Last night we performed some preliminary analysis and decided that there was no way to test every knife systematically without devoting an unreasonable amount of time to the project (and wasting a lot of produce). So using various criteria we narrowed the field to six general-purpose knives (well, five and we also threw in the nikiri for fun). So that's knives 3 (RyuSen Blazen, $319.95 at Epicurean Edge), 4 (Global, $136 at EE), 6 (Kumagoro, $157.95 at EE), 7 (Shun, $128.95 at EE), 10 (Takeda, somewhere in the neighborhood of $210) and 24 (unknown Japanese nikiri, cheap). This morning, our cooking project was making hash out of leftover prime rib plus potatoes, onions, garlic and parsley. These ingredients presented a good range of slicing and dicing opportunities, which actually turned out to be important in evaluating the knives. In order to eliminate as many variables as possible, each knife (except the Blazen, which was already quite sharp, though later we sharpened it anyway) was freshly sharpened to Sean's best approximation of factory angles with the Edge Pro . . . . . . and stropped with this thing: Of course sharpening them all to identical angles may have been another way to go. Knife comparisons are fraught with this sort of uncertainty. For example, Cook's Illustrated I believe tests knives new out of the factory box. That makes sense for people who don't sharpen knives, but it also gives an inflated rating to a knife like a Forschner that comes extremely sharp from the factory but is only going to stay that way for a short while. We started with about half a 20-pound sack of potatoes. (We didn't use them all in the hash!) We very quickly gave up on the Global knife and the Japanese nikiri. They simply weren't in the same league as the rest of the knives. We used them a little more later on but it was immediately clear that they couldn't compete. I had high hopes for the Kumagoro hammered-finish gyuto. And maybe if the task at hand had been making thin slices of meat, fish or tomatoes I'd have had a higher opinion of this knife. But for our tasks it was just awkward. It's a relatively thin knife and quite large, and the handle is offset more than I like. It's clearly a great blade but as a kitchen knife it didn't work for me. I was initially disappointed with the Takeda gyotu. It wasn't long enough to do a good job cutting the potatoes lengthwise, especially with a pinch grip subtracting an inch or so from the usable portion of the blade. And I found the blade shape awkward for that task. Both the Shun and the Blazen absolutely excelled at cutting potatoes. The extra weight of their blades really helped make chopping potatoes easy. And I liked the Shun D-shaped handle and the Blazen's typical Western handle better than the Japanese octagonal handles (though this matters less if you use a pinch grip). When it came time to dice an onion, however, the Takeda made a huge comeback. It was by far the best knife for this task. Its thin, small blade made it very easy to cut thin slices in each direction. The other knives were all good at the onion task, and the Shun was better than any other knife in the running (I tried a whole bunch of them) but the Takeda was in its own league. I had not anticipated that there would be such a difference in usability from task to task. I guess I should have known that was going to happen, but I didn't. For the remaining tasks -- mincing garlic, slicing and dicing the cold leftover beef and chopping parsley -- the larger, heavy knives (the Shun and the Blazen being the only ones surviving until this point in the experiment) were best. The Shun was surprisingly competitive with the Blazen, given that the Blazen is a much more expensive knife and that most every knife aficionado will tell you the Blazen is a better knife. I was nonetheless very pleased with the Shun in most every way. The hash came out really well, by the way. As a side note, using the Henckels knives side-by-side with these better knives is very revealing. The Henckels knives are just not playing on the same field. The only advantage I can think of in favor of a Henckels knife is that you can beat on it more freely than you can a harder (and therefore more brittle) Japanese knife. Still, the Shun and Blazen were plenty beefy, it seemed, for long hours of heavy chopping. I didn't have my Wusthof chef's knife with me for this but I think the Wusthofs are better than the Henckels knives -- but still not on par with something like the Shun. On the one hand, I felt I learned a lot from the experiment. On the other hand, it didn't give me the one-knife answer I was looking for. If I had to choose one all-around knife, taking cost into account, I'd choose the Shun. But I'd rather also have the Blazen and the Takeda. And if I had both of those I might not need the Shun as much. But it would be a much more expensive proposition. I think I see a Shun in my future.

Pork, baby. At least I think so. I'll double check.

I've posted in more detail on the topic for the restaurant L'Absinthe in New York City, however I wanted to summarize here some notes I made on a tasting of four absinthes served fountain-style at the restaurant (which has the most comprehensive absinthe selection in New York City) the other day. Here's the absinthe fountain they use at L'Absinthe: The four absinthes we tasted were: La Fee Absinthe Parisienne. This was by far my least favorite, with a one-dimensional, mass-produced flavor. It was absinthe, no doubt, but it was not a terribly interesting beverage. Lucid Absinthe Superieure. A big step up, with a robust anise and wormwood flavor, though still rather one-note. La Clandestine. This I thought was excellent. It was the first absinthe I've tasted where I've said, "Now I get why people are into absinthe." In addition to the anise and wormwood flavors, there were many interesting botanical overtones -- as in a good gin. A complex absinthe with a lot of structure. St. George Absinthe Verte. This was probably my favorite of the evening, though not so much as an absinthe but in a more abstract sense. It had a ton of unusual flavors and a long, long finish. I'm not even sure I'd call it absinthe if someone just gave me a glass of it. It's more of an absinthe-like beverage made from brandy, star anise, wormwood, mint, lemon balm, tarragon and a bunch of other stuff. Most of all, drinking absinthe at L'Absinthe just feels right. The restaurant is feels like a slice of Paris from an earlier era. It was a great night.

I was recently invited in for a press preview of a new offering at L'Absinthe: the l'heure verte ("green hour") absinthe tasting. Absinthe has been rising in prominence since its re-legalization a few years ago. As the restaurant's name should and does imply, L'Absinthe currently has the most comprehensive absinthe selection in the city. You can always get absinthe there, however on Thursdays at 9pm they are offering a great deal on a tasting of four absinthes, served in traditional fountain style, plus a great collection of amuses designed to complement the absinthe's flavors. It's $35. Greg, the restaurant's absinthe expert, joined me for the tasting and there's no way I can possibly do justice to all the information he downloaded to me. I'll note a few observations here, but by far the coolest aspect of the absinthe tasting is the fountain service. What is fountain service, you ask? I'm glad you asked. This is an absinthe fountain: It's one of the most dramatic culinary presentations I've ever witnessed. The absinthe itself comes out in glasses, each topped with a strainer and a sugar cube. The fountain is filled with ice water. The taps on the fountain are opened just enough so that the water drips, as in Chinese water torture, onto the sugar cubes slowly dissolving them. When the ratio of water to absinthe is 4:1 you shut off the valve and drink. When one of these things comes out to your table you can be sure that everybody will ask what the heck it is. The people at the table next to us were so intrigued by it that they wound up ordering a round of absinthe themselves. Another nearby table was inspired to order it as well. The four absinthes we tasted were: La Fee Absinthe Parisienne. This was by far my least favorite, with a one-dimensional, mass-produced flavor. It was absinthe, no doubt, but it was not a terribly interesting beverage. Lucid Absinthe Superieure. A big step up, with a robust anise and wormwood flavor, though still rather one-note. La Clandestine. This I thought was excellent. It was the first absinthe I've tasted where I've said, "Now I get why people are into absinthe." In addition to the anise and wormwood flavors, there were many interesting botanical overtones -- as in a good gin. A complex absinthe with a lot of structure. St. George Absinthe Verte. This was probably my favorite of the evening, though not so much as an absinthe but in a more abstract sense. It had a ton of unusual flavors and a long, long finish. I'm not even sure I'd call it absinthe if someone just gave me a glass of it. It's more of an absinthe-like beverage made from brandy, star anise, wormwood, mint, lemon balm, tarragon and a bunch of other stuff. The amuses accompanying the tasting were great: fritters of cod brandade, pistachio-and-black-truffle house-made sausage, glazed chicken "lollipops" and a tartlet of pesto aioli. Needless to say, the chef has decided (and I agree) that garlic is the thing with absinthe. Also included in the amuse selection are crostini of spinach and quail eggs, but we didn't have them -- the chef swapped in some head cheese. Drinking absinthe at L'Absinthe is one of those peak food-and-beverage experiences that's worth seeking out. I would suggest calling ahead for reservations and the latest information, though. I'm not sure the 9pm Thursday thing is set in stone.

Tino, it sounds like you've resolved this situation, however had I been alert enough to advise you earlier I'd have suggested that you just go up to the pass and communicate directly with the chef. If you do this sort of thing in a jolly, positive way you can pull it off without offending anyone. With respect to the suggestion to ask for hot chili sauce on the side, this can be a workable tactic but it's an imperfect one. There's a big difference between using hot chili sauce as a condiment on a finished dish and cooking a dish with spice as an integral part of the process. Much better to get the kitchen on board with the spicy mission. Of course you can still add hot chili sauce on top of that! P.S. The number of Chinese restaurants in America is closer to 43,000.

P.S. I've said it before and I'll say it again: tile countertops are cheap and incredibly durable. Their only weakness is the grout, but if you use closely spaced, large tiles and a darker grout it's not a huge issue. If you're looking for the best cost:performance ratio tile is the way to go.

I think it's a brilliant idea, Paul. Do you know what laboratory countertops cost compared to traditional materials?

Whether or not grocery-store sales affect wine-store sales, protecting wine stores is not the stated purpose of the regulations that forbid grocery-store sales. The regulations are premised on Puritanical notions of the evils of alcohol, as well as (dubious) claims about youth consumption. If the only reason some wine stores are currently able to stay in business is that there's a poorly justified law giving them a monopoly, I'm not going to cry over their loss. The good ones should be just fine, as they are in states where grocery-store wine sales are already allowed. And certainly, from the standpoint of the consumer, it's a pleasure to be able to buy wine at the grocery store -- especially in places where going to the wine store requires an additional stop in the car.

Wikipedia says, without citation, that sachertorte "is traditionally served with whipped cream without any sugar in it," so I don't really know what to think. My own experience, in America, has been that 100% of the time when I've been served anything called "schlag" it has been sweetened. I'd defer to an authoritative source but I don't think one has been cited here.

I'll just note that every time I've been served Sachertorte mit schlag, the whipped cream has been sweetened. That's not all that many times -- maybe three or four -- but it has been consistent. My pastry library isn't all that deep but the Markus Farbinger recipe in "The New Taste of Chocolate" specifies sweetened whipped cream with vanilla. Also Epicurious offers this recipe from Rick Rodgers and it specifies sweetened whipped cream.

Amernick's "Art of the Dessert" (page 81) has a note that says "Granulated sugar tends to break down whipped cream, causing moisture to separate out, whereas confectioners' sugar absorbs the moisture because it contains cornstarch." I have no idea how that impacts on superfine sugar.

I'd use confectioner's sugar. I don't know about the formal definitions but in practice -- and limited to eating at German-Austrian restaurants in the US -- I've never tasted anything called schlag that wasn't noticeably sweetened. I have no idea if this source is reliable but it's what came up on Google when I searched "schlag sweetened vanilla": "SCHLAG . . . . sweetened, flavored (usually with vanilla) whipped cream."

In other words, were I to make schlag the recipe would probably be: 2 cups heavy whipping cream 1/4 cup confectioner's sugar 1 teaspoon vanilla extract Beaten with a whisk or electric mixer until it's schlag.

Granted schlag means whipped cream. But in the Austrian tradition isn't whipped cream typically sweetened with sugar and flavored with a little vanilla?

The Burger Bar menu is now available at dinnertime, except on Thursday nights. The small-plates menu they were running on the non-Thursday evenings is no longer officially on offer, though they will informally accept orders for tapas-sized portions of most things on the regular menu as well as variants. But so many people wanted burgers that's what they're doing with the counter on the non-Thursday evenings. The burger price is a few dollars higher than at lunchtime. I also wanted to mention, based on a recent conversation with Waldy, that one reason the burgers taste the way they do is that they're ground in house from a mix of Niman Ranch Certified Natural Black Angus chuck and trimmings from the dry-aged steaks the restaurant serves a la carte.

So after we started this discussion and I belatedly became aware of the Serious Eats New York-specific blog ( http://newyork.seriouseats.com/ ) I started reading it along with the other three (Eater, Grub Street and The Feedbag). One thing I've noticed is that, while there is a tremendous amount of information overlap among Eater, Grub Street and The Feedbag, the Serious Eats New York blog marches to the beat of its own drummer. If I start out reading Eater, then go to The Feedbag, then go to Grub Street, I find that by the time I get to Grub Street I've already learned most of what there was to learn. But if I then go to Serious Eats most of the information is new. I like that.

Maybe a little apple-cider vinegar in there?

I will say that I found my tongs quite useful when we caught a mouse in a mousetrap.

Michael Pollan will be Secretary of Agriculture just as soon as Mario Batali gets the Surgeon General position.

Turning anything delicate that would be better turned with a spatula/turner -- that's the most common offense. Also sighted: grabbing the handle of a pot or pan instead of using a towel or potholder (tongs are not a secure way to manipulate a utensil), giving a sauce or other liquid a quick stir when a spoon would be the right tool, cutting soft things, scooping off a knob of butter, using tongs as a saute implement, pulling out the oven rack, etc.

If I had to guess, I'd say David Chang picked up his anti-tong sentiment from Tom Colicchio -- Chang is a Craft alumnus. When I did a faux stage in the Kitchen of Gramercy Tavern about a decade ago, pretty much the only thing a cook could do to get Chef Tom angry was hang a pair of tongs over an oven-door handle, use tongs to aid in sauteeing or otherwise misuse tongs. It would drive him completely nuts. I chatted with him about it briefly and don't remember everything he said, but I think the basic position isn't that tongs are entirely evil. They certainly use them, for example, at Craftsteak. Rather, the position is that tongs are overused. Just like plastic squeeze bottles, another thing you never saw at Gramercy Tavern under the Colicchio regime. You want to put sauce on a plate? Learn how to do it with a spoon. This all flows, I think, from an ethos of "the right tool for the right job." Tongs are indeed the right tool for turning steaks on a grill. They are not the right tool, however, for a lot of jobs I've seen them used for. They're not the right tool when a spatula/turner is the right tool. They're not the right tool when a spoon is the right tool. And they're not the right tool when no tool is required. I have tongs and don't use them very often. When I need them, they're indispensable. But most of the time you'll find me using a more purpose-built tool.

My suggestion would be to stuff it and roast it. You might get some inspiration from this Accidental Hedonist recipe: http://www.accidentalhedonist.com/index.ph...1&c=1&tb=1&pb=1

Yes, apparently they cut a deal with Columbia to relocate to a space just down 12th Avenue -- you can see it if you stand in the doorway of Dinosaur and look across and to your left. It's a very nice building, so I think unlike many business owners in that area Dinosaur is pretty happy to be making the move. I don't know when it will happen but I can try to find out.

In Brooklyn, Peter Luger's burger is said to be made from trimmings of their dry-aged beef. I've had several over time and the flavor is excellent, though the restaurant's kitchen is totally not up to the task of cooking burgers to the requested degree of doneness. My favorite burger spot in New York, the Burger Bar at Beacon, does something I think makes a lot of sense: they use Niman Ranch chuck ("Certified Natural Black Angus") as the foundation of their burgers, and they enhance the grind with trimmings from the dry-aged steaks they sell a la carte for between $36 and $48. (They grind their own, though presumably not at the moment of service.) This allows for a cost-effective burger ($12.95 with fries and a bunch of nice garnishes) with an overlay of premium dry-aged complexity. But yeah, you need to be working with at least subprimals to make that work.