Fat Guy

Woops, I had just edited that post to correct my numbering. The version I've been using for years is Pro Chef 6. I later acquired Pro Chef 7 and last year I also got Pro Chef 8, but I've been slow to migrate. Back when Pro Chef 7 came out I heard chatter about how it was a step down from Pro Chef 6. I've heard more positive comments about Pro Chef 8, but I can't say I've performed a rigorous enough analysis of the books to have an opinion. Someday I will.

Just in the past few days, I've participated in both extremes. Corn bread: we used the recipe from CIA Pro Chef (the same recipe makes corn muffins or corn bread, depending on what you bake it in), divided in half. I've found that when Pro Chef has a recipe, it usually produces excellent results. The dry ingredients are given by weight, and I have a lot of confidence in the testing procedures. Most of the recipes are about twice as big as you'd want to make at home, but they're easily halved on the fly. Banana bread: I could tell that the banana nut bread recipe in Pro Chef was too fussy and professional for us (cream the butter and sugar in an electric mixer, etc.). I'm sure it would have been delicious, but we wanted a more rustic recipe that used vegetable oil for a super-moist bread like mom used to make, and that didn't require using the KitchenAid mixer. So we pulled maybe ten books off the shelf in order to arrive at a consensus set of ratios for the dry and liquid ingredients, as well as consensus baking times and temperatures, and then we improvised. A little dangerous, but in this case it worked out really well. Most of the time, when we use recipes at all on our house, it's for baked goods. Sometimes specific sauces and other items that need exact measurement. Otherwise, cookbooks are mostly for general ideas. (Note: Pro Chef = "The Professional Chef," from the Culinary Institute of America. I've mostly been using the sixth edition, or "Pro Chef 6." I also have the seventh and eighth editions, but Pro Chef 6 has several favorites marked off and I haven't migrated yet.)

Here are two passages from Trevor Corson's book, "The Zen of Fish." I picked them simply because it's the first book I grabbed as a reference. Similar information is available in many other sources. On the mixing point: On the real wasabi point:

Soaking your sushi in a mixture of soy and wasabi is kind of like covering a steak with ketchup: you're going to taste the condiments and not the actual food. Good sushi usually doesn't need any condiments -- each piece is a complete package, and already contains a little wasabi (which is usually not real wasabi, but that's another story). For those who like extra wasabi, direct application of a little smear to the sushi is recommended (you can also just ask to have your sushi made with extra wasabi). For soy sauce, inverting the sushi and dipping the fish is best. You don't really want to be dipping the rice part in the soy sauce, as it will quickly absorb enough to mask the taste of the fish.

So I've finally re-read, more carefully, the Richman piece, and I've got to say I think it misses the point. It's a beautifully written portrait of Chang, and contains a lot of insights and factual tidbits, but Richman comes at the project from an old-media perspective. Chang, however, is a new media figure. Magazines like GQ, newspapers like the New York Times, they're all playing catch-up on Chang and the Momofuku phenomenon. Not a single mention of Eater in the whole story? Worse, Richman fails to put Momofuku in context by drawing the increasingly obvious connections to the other new-paradigm places we've been identifying and talking about here for ages.

Andie, do you find that the Hobart is rough on dishes? I might have concerns about putting non-restaurant-grade stuff in there, not to mention top-rack-only plastic-type items.

I agree with Pellettieri's main thesis, which is that "Turkey leftover recipes are, essentially, a sham—an invention of food entertainment providers hard-up for new holiday ideas." She links to so many examples in her story that it's hard to dispute that contention. We do two things with leftover turkey: 1. Recreate the Thanksgiving-dinner entree plate: reheated turkey, stuffing and gravy, plus cranberry sauce. 2. Make turkey sandwiches. We don't make turkey stock from the carcass, in part because the carcass doesn't make particularly good stock (compared to cheap, readily available chicken parts) and in part because we don't typically take possession of the carcass after dinner at my mother's place. One year we had a good experience making turkey hash. I can't say it was as good as hash made from, say, leftover beef brisket, but it was a tasty, productive, un-forced use of leftover turkey meat.

Thought you all might enjoy this rant in Slate by Jill Hunter Pellettieri, who is fundamentally opposed to leftover-turkey recipes. Her thesis is that these recipes are a hoax perpetrated by the food-media establishment and don't represent actual good (or good-tasting) ideas. She argues: She calls for us to let sleeping turkeys lie, to throw the turkey out with the bathwater. Whatever is left, throw in the garbage, or make stock. She concludes:

Andie, with a Hobart like that, don't you need to dry the dishes by hand? I imagine that would be a dealbreaker for most home users.

And that justifies what? Richman should have written that David Chang had him in for a preview tasting, and then said whatever he needed to say about the food, and then said, P.S., by the time you read this the restaurant should be open. Simple as that. It's not like he didn't have the space.

It's neither foolish nor defective in any way to hold a book up to the standard it sets for itself. Ruhlman has characterized the book as "everything I think cooks need to know in the kitchen." I think it's entirely reasonable -- nay, required -- to evaluate whether a statement like that makes sense. The book promises as follows: Normally I might be inclined to say that those statements, from the publisher, are marketing puffery that Ruhlman doesn't really endorse. However, the "everything I think cooks need to know in the kitchen" claim, penned by Ruhlman, seems to run along the same lines as the jacket copy. So I don't think the book delivers on that basic promise. Does anybody? Elements is enjoyable and useful in many ways, but "you'll learn to cook everything" is not one of them. In that sense, yes, some folks are indeed criticizing a book Ruhlman didn't write.

I wish he had just come right out and said that. The way it's written makes it sound like he went there for dinner, which would have required a time machine.

Even at the CIA, in the B.P.S. curriculum, in freshman year second semester there are required courses on "Cuisines of Asia" and "Cuisines of the Americas," and in senior year there are required courses on "History and Culture of Asia" and "History & Cultures of the Americas." There's also a required Italian cuisine class (indeed, there's the whole Colavita Center for Italian Food and Wine) and the required "Cuisines of Europe and the Mediterranean," which includes units on the Middle East, Spain, Italy, and Eastern Europe (and France). These courses are part of the curriculum because the CIA considers a basic understanding of the cuisines of the world essential for today's culinary professionals. On the mirepoix question, the idea of an aromatic base for soups, sauces and stews is something just about every culture has come up with. Here's a good summary by James Peterson that appeared in Fine Cooking. Some examples of other cultures' equivalents of mirepoix: and I think Chris made a fair point. I don't necessarily agree with the whole point -- I think the world can always use another book on classic cookery -- but I do think there's a disconnect between the book's proffer and what it delivers. Which is not to say that what it delivers is bad. You'll find that my review, still to be published (though written a few days ago), is mostly favorable.

From Wikipedia:

Based on a meal this evening (I'll post more on the appropriate topic), I'll say that Crave should also be considered for inclusion.

I have no idea whether it's true or not, but I have read many times that a little baking soda combats the effect of hard water on beans.

I've been riding the subways all my life and the notion that "at 3 in the morning you never wait more than 5 minutes on the 6 line" is simply ludicrous.

Baroness: I was talking about Ridgefield, though that one is (assuming it's still open -- I haven't been in awhile) not as good as the original, departed Foodmart International in Jersey City. I would definitely not recommend a trip focused on Foodmart International. I would, however, recommend it as a stop for anyone who is already at the Super H-Mart in Ridgefield -- which I think is destination-worthy. The last time I was at Foodmart International, I also probably spent under $10. But I love wandering the aisles. And there's a topic somewhere about finding Sichuan peppercorns there at a time when folks were having a hard time finding them elsewhere.

I noticed a link on Grub Street today to this piece on Gothamist:

I've gone to both many times and it makes no difference from a planning perspective. It's not a situation like where you change from one line to another. It's a dedicated train that only makes those two stops: Princeton and Princeton Junction. The "dinky" waits for the NE Corridor train. There's no need for passengers to coordinate schedules -- the train is just there.

One thing worth noting about dishwasher noise is that the dishwasher itself is only part of the equation. The way it's installed can also make a big difference. Not only are there issues of location, leveling, fit, etc., but also there are aftermarket soundproofing solutions available. You can replace the factory insulation in the door and base with superior soundproofing foam, you can put the dishwasher on a rubber mat to prevent sound conduction through the floor, you can drape the entire dishwasher unit in soundproof vinyl, and you can insulate the spacers between the dishwasher and the next appliance or cabinet over. You just have to be sure not to block the ventilation for the motor.

Pax, how set are you on Brattleboro? It's a very nice town but I would definitely suggest you also check out the Burlington area, which I think is the crown jewel of Vermont both food- and culture-wise.

Oh, and another related issue is installation. A lot of appliances have various special things that need to be done to them when they're installed, like the door has to be attached or something has to be calibrated or there are other little quirks that veteran installers learn about through long experience. Most contractors think they can install anything, and when it's time to do so they just wing it and figure it's all the same. In those couple of hours, when the installers are fiddling and banging and trying to install a product they don't know well, an appliance can sustain more damage than it's going to sustain in the next seven years under normal kitchen use. So that's another argument for going with brands like GE, where the local installer is likely to have installed a million of them before.

John, another virtue you mention is reliability. I'd also suggest that the other side of that coin is repair service. No matter what dishwasher you get, eventually something is likely to happen to it. If you live in a place like New York City, where high-end Euro-appliances are as common as pigeons, you're not going to have any trouble getting an Asko dishwasher repaired. I wouldn't be as confident about that if I lived in Burlington, Vermont, no less a smaller town. One of my few appliance-repair experiences was when I lived in Burlington. The 1970s Whirlpool refrigerator in the house went dead and I called Whirlpool for service. A guy came in a van that actually said Whirlpool on it. He had a huge assortment of Whirlpool parts in the van. In my case the refrigerator was an older model, so he still had to order me a new compressor and come back, but he said that for almost any Whirlpool product built in the 10 preceding years he had the parts to deal with the most common repairs. He knew the products inside and out and made a quick diagnosis and, when he came back with the part a couple of days later, he made the repair so quickly I couldn't believe it. My understanding of what happens with the niche brands like Asko is that there isn't actually an Asko guy with an Asko truck up in Burlington. Rather, there's some independent appliance guy who's authorized by a bunch of brands to perform service. I don't have nearly as much confidence in that kind of service network as I do in one that's dedicated to a specific brand or the brands of a large retailer. So, if I lived in a smaller town, I would likely not buy any appliance that isn't made by GE or Whirlpool (maybe Maytag -- actually maybe my Burlington refrigerator was a Maytag and I have the story transposed wrong) or sold and serviced by Sears. I've actually had this discussion with a couple of sets of friends who moved away from the New York metro area and in both cases they chose really nice top-of-the-line GE appliances, which in my opinion are quite close in attractiveness and performance to the best of what you get from the niche brands. So the only Euro-dishwasher I'd even consider would be Bosch, because you've got to figure that since Sears is selling Bosch you can probably get a Bosch repaired effectively just about anywhere. But if I lived up where you live I'd probably get the best GE Monogram dishwasher (if I had a big house I'd get two of them) and call it a day.

I think it would be worth a separate topic on iodine deficiency. Sam, let me just lay out here, however, that your statements do not reflect my understanding of the issue based on what I've read. I don't have blind faith in our pediatrician, or pediatricians in general, but I have at least taken notice of repeated emphatic recommendations to use iodized salt -- and as a result I've switched back to iodized salt (mostly) since having a child. In terms of more general information, the Micronutrient Initiative, based in Canada, has issued this report which seems to suggest that Iodine Deficiency Disorder (IDD) is about a lot more than goiter and is still a significant public health issue. From the preface: The report divides the countries of the world into three groups. The United States would be in the third group. From the foreword: Now for all I know this is influenced by some industry group -- is there an iodine industry group out there artificially perpetuating fear of IDD? -- though the endorsement by UNICEF's nutrition chief is at least noteworthy. And, again, I think we should have another topic devoted to this issue rather than getting bogged down here. But I think there may be more to the iodine issue than "goiter was only a problem in Michigan."