Fat Guy

This is the greatest day of my life.

It's not one of the more heavily seasoned dishes on the menu. But with most of the dishes at Szechuan Gourmet you can just ask for it to be made with more or less. Even if you don't ask, the levels vary from visit to visit. The first time I had the fish filets with Napa it was insanely hot, but last night it was pretty tolerable (though still quite hot).

I knew of its existence long before I attended the press preview tasting. Beacon is represented by a serious PR firm, Diaz-Schloss (both Frank Diaz and Karen Schloss are occasional eG Forums participants, by the way), that has direct lines to every significant (or in my case insignificant) food journalist in the region. Prior to the preview invitiation, I'd been contacted about it at last three times. Dozens of journalists attended the Kitchen Counter preview tastings, including Gael Greene and Bret Thorn -- it would be poor form for me to out others I know were there, but Gael Greene and Bret Thorn both blogged about it in very positive terms so I'm comfortable naming them. The interesting thing is that even though Gael Greene was very enthusiastic about Kitchen Counter, there was never a mention in New York Magazine. That can only mean somebody at the editorial level nixed it. Over at the New York Times, there's simply no way that, given how heavily Kitchen Counter was promoted, it didn't at least come to Florence Fabricant's attention. I'm sure she received press releases, emails, phone calls and preview invitations. Given some of the utterly unremarkable crap that gets mentioned in "Off the Menu," it's pretty remarkable that there wasn't a word about Kitchen Counter.

I completely disagree, Marc. Two-star food in a zero-star environment wouldn't even be an innovation. The reason Ssam Bar has captured the imagination of such a significant cross-section of diners and critics is that, with respect to a substantial portion of the menu, there is no better food being served anywhere in New York City. We could go through every dish on the menu, past and present, and say "this is a four-star dish" (many would qualify -- in particular there are dishes like the uni and the hamachi that, if served at Jean Georges, would fit seamlessly into a tasting), "this is a two-star dish," etc., but that would be a pointless exercise in trying to categorize a restaurant that rejects categories. Rather, the point is that you can go into Ssam Bar and eat anything (just to use examples of what I had last night) from a rustic bowl of spicy pork sausage with glutinous rice cakes that's basically an improved version of what you'd get at a downscale Asian restaurant, to a roasted mushroom salad that's as good as any comparable dish at a restaurant like Per Se or Jean Georges, to something eclectic like the apple kimchi with pork jowl and maple labne that you just couldn't find at any other restaurant. No, people aren't saying "most innovative" by mistake. They're saying "best" and they mean exactly that.

Another excellent meal at Szechuan Gourmet tonight. For the non-spicy-food/unadventurous eaters we got unimpressive scallion pancakes, the very good young chow fried rice, and sesame chicken that was a better rendition of sesame chicken than I'd have thought possible. The one new (to me dish) we tried was the "Chef's Sichuan pickles" appetizer, number 18 and yes for this particular dish it's spelled Sichuan on the menu even though the restaurant is called Szechuan Gourmet and, as best I can tell, uses the Szechuan spelling everywhere else on the menu. Also had the fish filets with napa, the crispy tofu with pork, and the crispy lamb with cumin. All terrific. I wonder how they make the lamb. It seems like it may be velveted, then dredged in cumin and other stuff and deep fried, then stir-fried with peppers and such. Does that even make sense?

Does it say "PI-2205"?

Maybe, but Beacon is still there, unchanged. The Kitchen Counter is a restaurant within a restaurant -- an entirely new concept. I think the best analogy is Minibar in Washington, DC. Minibar isn't a transformation of Cafe Atlantico, because you still have Cafe Atlantico. They just built this separate six-seat counter and run it in a different way from the rest of the restaurant. That to me counts as a new opening as much or more than it counts as a transformation. Of course the Times doesn't even acknowledge the existence of Kitchen Counter, so the question of which list it should have been on is secondary.

Right, you want to start with the lowest power setting and work from there. Some microwave ovens, like the one I had a decade ago, you need to go up to setting 3 out of 10 or so. But there are other microwave ovens where even the lowest power setting will kill the yeast in 3 minutes. So for those you may have to scale back to 2 minutes. And some microwave ovens only have a single power setting, in which case you're probably looking at using several bursts of 1 minute or less followed by a minute or two of resting.

Okay if you're actually going to try this there are two big things to look out for: 1. Overkneading. Stay under a minute. And, you may find, in your first attempts, that it takes some adjustment of the liquid balance before you get the ball. Too much liquid, add a little more flour, etc. At some point that time starts to add up so you want to subtract it from the minute if you've already done a lot of pseudo-kneading during the mixing process. 2. Cooking the dough in the microwave. You can only push so far before you kill the yeast and dry out the dough. Finding the right settings on your microwave is the most difficult part of the whole process, especially when you've never been through the process before. Once you get a feel for it, you can calibrate to someone else's microwave pretty quickly. But at first you're flying blind. Just take it slowly. If you have to do several 1-minute bursts and keep watching and touching the dough to make sure it's not starting to feel hot to the touch, you can do that. You'll start to see where the dough hits the point of optimum energy accumulation. You may have to play for 30 minutes to get the rise, but you'll acquire the knowledge for next time.

Anybody have thoughts on the best non-spicy dishes on the menu? I need to put together an order that accommodates a range of palates.

The people next to me at the bar both ordered the 15-piece tasting, and received piece-by-piece service and an excellent assortment -- better than I received by doing the full omakase. I think the 15-piece is probably the smartest order you can place at the bar from a cost/benefit perspective.

There are a few invaluable (to me) things in my kitchen I fear I'll never be able to replace once they give out. I'll be able to get something like them, but probably not the exact same thing. For example: - There's a small rice scoop that came with a Zojirushi rice cooker I got something like 13 years ago. Rice scoop is the technical term but it's really a little ladle. Its shape and size are just so great for serving everything from soup to tomato sauce to, as intended, rice. The angle of its bowl, the nape of its neck -- I've looked for another one for years but never found the exact same thing. This one came very close to meeting its maker a few months ago. I left its bowl kind of suspended on the surface of a pot of very hot tomato sauce, and it scorched a blemish into the bottom. Luckily it didn't burn through, so the usefulness of the utensil was not compromised. - There's a hard, thin plastic spatula that came with a Bosch food processor I bought maybe 15 years ago. The food processor is no longer with us, but the spatula is. It's the ultimate scraper for a food-processor bowl, and it's stiff enough to cut brownies -- but without damaging the nonstick baking pan. - I got some cheap, crummy plastic-handled utility knives at Zabar's about 16 years ago. They cost a couple of dollars each. I don't know why I think they're so great. By all gourmet standards of knives they suck. But I love them. They're true utility knives. I can use one for just about anything. If I'm just tossing together a quick salad, or slicing just a few mushrooms, or whatever, I use one of these cheap knives and throw it in the dishwasher. I've never been able to find the exact same shape and style of knife, and some day mine will all be gone (I think I have three left). My beauties:

I was in this evening, sitting in front of the young guy who served me last time. I think he's a terrific sushi chef. Kudos to Hideo-san for having a number two and number three who maintain such high standards. Tonight I tried the formal omakase that combines items from the sushi bar and kitchen. The progression was: From the sushi bar: - Fluke sashimi with various condiments (an array of things you dip and spread) - An assortment of sashimi (five types including Spanish mackerel and sweet shrimp) - Monkfish liver From the kitchen: - Scallop served on a sizzling-hot scallop shell - Miso cod - Assorted tempura - Egg custard with shrimp and scallops From the sushi bar: - An assortment of nigiri sushi (five pieces) - Another assortment of sushi (gunkan maki of uni and salmon roe, and nigiri sushi of a couple of types of eel) From the kitchen: - Miso soup with shrimp head - A choice of dessert (I had the black sesame ice cream) It's quite a lot of food for $100, and it's as good overall (better in places) as any other sushi place I've visited. Probably the biggest surprise was the excellence of the tempura. It's comparable to the best I've had around town. My only reservation about the omakase done in this style is that your sushi pieces don't come one by one -- you get them in two flights on platters. It doesn't introduce a huge delay, but still I have a strong preference of piece-by-piece service for omakase at the sushi bar. The renovation is impressive -- I can't believe they did such a comprehensive overhaul in such a short period of time. The place is barely recognizable. Gone is the green paint, replaced by rich blond wood. The sushi bar is entirely new, including all the refrigeration. It's conceptually the same as the old refrigeration (top loading) but at a much higher standard of construction. The place was stuffed to the gills the whole time I was there (8:15 until a little after 10).

Stumbling in later than Frank Bruni to the Momofuku party here, I just want to add my vote in favor of PDT as a seriously enjoyable cocktail spot. And I think the juxtaposition of the gourmet New York cocktails against the rustic New Jersey hot dogs comes off brilliantly. The Chang Dog and the John John Deragon are delicious. Jim Meehan is a great host. I think the reason I liked the place so much is that it takes cocktails seriously without taking itself too seriously.

When your opening concept is a failure and, later on, you retool and have great success, you deserve to be celebrated. But you don't deserve to be called the best new restaurant of a year during which you didn't open. That's what the "Impressive Transformations" list is for.

Okay time for a demonstration. Your friends call. They're in town for the day. They're at the museum around the corner. Come on over. In an hour. Here's how you can serve them some fresh-baked bread. This is pretty much the quickest recipe in the book, and it's very simple. It's for single-rise dinner rolls. They're not artisan bread. But they're absolutely addictive when served warm with butter. Somewhere between a biscuit and a Parker House roll. So, on the counter: - 3 cups of flour (in the processor bowl) - 2 tablespoons sugar - 1.5 teaspoons salt - 5 teaspoons dry yeast - 2 tablespoons unsalted butter - 2 large eggs, with the white of one egg separated - 3/5 cup hot water (120 degrees F) The recipe also calls for poppy seeds -- the point is to brush the tops of the rolls with the separated egg white and sprinkle with poppy seeds. I didn't have any around, or any sesame seeds, so I skipped this step. It doesn't really make much of a difference. You can see the timer on the countertop. I started it when I was laying out the ingredients. This whole recipe will go a little faster from here on in if you're not taking photographs, of course. Flour, sugar, salt and yeast in the processor bowl. Pulse to combine. Cut butter into the bowl: Pulse to combine until there's barely any visible butter left. 120 degree F tap water, mixed with the egg yolks and one white. Start the processor and drizzle in the liquid, holding back at the end to see if a ball forms. Keep adding until a ball forms. Then keep processing for 60 seconds. Grease a round glass casserole dish. I'm making a half batch, and refrigerating half the dough. A larger dish or two dishes would accommodate all the rolls, of course. Divide the dough into 16 pieces, or in my case half the dough into 8 pieces. Total amount of dough came in at just under 2 pounds so I made each piece 1.9 ounces. Preheat oven to 425 degrees F. Form into balls, arrange in dish: Into the microwave for 3-3-3-6 (or whatever works for you to get approximately a doubling of volume) as described up-topic. This is when you have a little downtime to load the dishwasher, so that at the end of the process it will be pretty much no-impact. After rising, into the oven for 18-20 minutes, until the tops are nicely browned. And, here we are, rich golden rolls in 59 minutes and 22 seconds:

Exactly. Excess capacity is important. That's why, while a 24-ounce glass will do in a pinch, I prefer a 28-ounce glass. Unfortunately, I haven't yet found glasses in that size, so I use plastic. By the way, here's a measuring experiment with three tumblers I had around the kitchen. Here they are: As you can see, there's not a huge difference in appearance of size. We know the plastic tumbler on the left is the biggest and the actual glass tumbler on the right is the smallest, but here are their actual capacities: This is a US postal scale so it measures in ounces and pounds. This first glass is 1 pound and .09 ounces after zeroing the scale for the weight of the glass. In other words, 16.9 ounces of water if you fill it to absolute capacity. (It's advertised as a 16-ounce glass). This lovely green acrylic tumbler weight in at 1 pound and 6.1 ounces after the tare adjustment. In other words, 22.1 ounces of water. And, this clear plastic tumbler holds 2 pounds of water -- that's 32 ounces aka 1 quart. About double what the first glass holds.

Lots. Whole topic on Graffiti here.

The argument for Ssam Bar as a 2007 place is that it opened in mid 2006 and started serving the late-night dinner menu in late 2006 but didn't implement the whole dinner menu at non-vampire hours until the beginning of 2007. Which is exactly why Ssam Bar belongs on the "Impressive Transformations" list not "The 10 Best New Restaurants." The argument for including Kitchen Counter at Beacon (which appears on no list) on the new-restaurants list is stronger than the argument for including Ssam Bar, because at least the Kitchen Counter is an actual new physical and conceptual creation: a restaurant within a restaurant somewhat akin to Minibar in Washington, DC. Yes, it has limited seating, but so does every restaurant -- where does one draw the line? The folks at the Times, New York Magazine, etc., are well aware of what's going on at the Kitchen Counter but they've willfully ignored it. You don't have to be a lawyer to think that a 2007 retrospective should only include restaurants that opened in 2007. If the Times wants to make different rules, it should just make those rules, for example "opened 1 December 2006 through 1 December 2007." But as a matter of good journalism there should be a consistent rule applied each year without exception. Otherwise the temptation for the reviewer to manipulate the process in furtherance of a desired outcome is too great, as we see with this list. Opening things up to late 2006 openings also creates all sorts of other questions: Gordon Ramsay? Dennis Foy? It's pretty hard to argue that Pamplona is better than those places.

Bread isn't like an apple, where you pick it off a tree and eat it. It's a manipulated product from the time the wheat is planted, through the milling process, through the use of laboratory-created yeast, through mixing in electric mixers, through time spent in proofing cabinets, through mechanical punching machines, through baking in a steam-injected electric deck oven. Even the artisan bakers use several of those technologies -- it's not like they mix dough by hand. Given all the technology used in professional baking anyway, I don't see any rational argument for drawing the line at food processor and microwave technology. A food processor is a faster dough mixer, and a microwave is a faster proofing cabinet, that's all. There are breads in many legitimate traditions that can be made very well using the food processor and microwave method: brioche, challah, pain de mie, Parker House rolls, cinnamon-raisin bread, most yeast-risen pastry-type breads, etc. There are, in addition, a whole lot of breads that can be made well enough, as in better than what you'd get from the supermarket, which, for many people, is the only bakery anywhere nearby.

So I'm working on a draft list of my 2007 favorites. Ssam Bar would of course be on my list, but it didn't open in 2007. Neither did 15 East, nor does anything Bruni says about sushi have much credibility. The one unequivocally correct inclusion on Bruni's list, in my opinion, is Anthos. Allen & Delancey is an inclusion I take seriously, but I haven't been so I can't say. Soto, Insieme, the Park Avenue X place, Resto, Pamplona and Mai House all strike me as questionable. Having not dined at all of them, though, there's only so far I can take that argument. Tailor is one where the lack of inclusion seems most glaring, and it's particularly hard to believe that places like Pamplona and Mai House could rank ahead of Tailor. But again, not enough first-hand experience to holler. Others I'd look at as arguably better than several of Bruni's top-10 inclusions: Kitchen Counter at Beacon Graffiti Crave Ceviche Bar Kampuchea Toloache Hill Country Inn LW12

Bread made with the food-processor-and-microwave method smells like bread made any other way, and you can make denser breads as you wish. You can even make very dense, chewy bagels. But really, it's hard to, um, swallow the notion that it's easier to digest bread that's harder to chew. That claim doesn't pass the smell test, as it were. Such a theory would have us avoiding brioche at all costs, etc. Common sense says you have to chew it more exactly because it's harder to digest.

Miracle of miracles: almost a year behind schedule now, but the plywood is down, there are windows, there's definitely most of a restaurant in there now, and there's a sign that says "Cambodian Cuisine Opening Soon." I think it's going to happen.

I forgot to add: Kitchen Counter at Beacon. It seems to me that if you're going to stretch the definitions to allow 2006 restaurants on the 2007 list, it's a lot less of a stretch to add a totally new restaurant-within-a-restaurant concept like the Kitchen Counter. And that is without a doubt one of the 10 best new restaurant happenings of actual 2007, and perhaps the best. The print-media conspiracy of silence on the Kitchen Counter is just nutty.

He mentions Graffiti. But I'm really curious to know whether the statement "And of Graffiti, in the East Village and even more intimate, where the pastry chef Jehangir Mehta also brings a dessert man’s perspective to the rest of the meal" is based on Bruni actually eating there. We should give him the benefit of the doubt on that, but it seems pretty carefully worded either to avoid a qualitative food judgment or to avoid stepping on Meehan's toes (or both). All those restaurants' openings are covered in "Off the Menu" and some are mentioned in various other places. But not one of the four was given a real review (two got nothing at all, two got "Dining Briefs"), and in the case of Graffiti you have the problem of Meehan writing the "Dining Briefs" entry and clearly not liking the place very much, so that preempts Bruni from giving it the royal treatment.