Fat Guy

Yeah, but there's sweet and there's sweet. You can always make a stock sweet by adding tons of sugar-rich vegetables like onions and carrots -- you can even add granulated sugar to a stock to sweeten it(plenty of places do this, as did my father-in-law when he made chicken soup). But then there's a dimension of sweetness that has to do with the absence of un-sweet flavors, as well as a kind of meaty richness bordering on umami. That's what you really want: that subtle, clean, complex, enhancing sweetness, because the other kind of sweetness is one-dimensional and masking.

You bet they do! Most restaurants don't make stock at all. They use soup bases with names like "Royale Beef" and sauce mixes with names like "Burgundy Mushroom Sauce Mix." And a lot of restaurants that do make stock make it from the crummiest scraps available. So if you're making stock at home in a small batch from decent ingredients there's little you can do to make it -- and derivative recipes -- as bad as what most restaurants serve. Now, when you start talking about the best restaurants, they start to pull away from the pack. I mean, I couldn't believe the stock operation at Lespinasse in New York City when Christian Delouvrier was the chef there: they made their chicken stock from whole Bell & Evans chickens -- they filled the whole steam-jacketed kettle with those things, poured water over, added various aromatics and simmered. Then -- get this -- they filled another kettle with whole Bell & Evans chickens, drained the stock off the first kettle, poured it over the new set of chickens and simmered that for several hours. And then they threw all the chickens out. This so-called double stock tasted significantly better than any stock I've ever made, and was beautifully clean, golden-clear and, for lack of a better word, sweet. It also helped me re-calibrate my perception of clarity and bitterness -- re-tasting my stock after tasting Delouvrier's made me notice off and bitter flavors that I'd never picked up on before.

So it seems there's some intersection between the sets "grits" and "polenta." But is there union (all grits = polenta and all polenta = grits) or is polenta a subset of grits (all polenta = grits but not all grits = polenta)?

Okay, so I have a few questions now: 1 - Does the term grits necessarily refer to hominy grits, or is it proper to call any variant of ground-up corn grits? 2 - Assuming it's okay to refer to coarser, non-hulled, yellow, ground-up corn as grits (yellow grits?), is there any difference between that and polenta? 3 - What's the difference between polenta and cornmeal? 4 - Are soft white grits made from actual white corn, or does the hulling process make the corn white?

So, to rephrase, you're saying that white grits are white not because they're made from white corn but, rather, because the process of removing the hull with lye whitens the product?

Can we revisit this issue? I was in the natural foods section of Fairway in New York City the other day, hoping to find some better grits than Quaker (which is all they sell in most NYC stores), and I stumbled across a wall of bagged grain products from Bob's Red Mill. The package says it's grits -- coarse-ground yellow corn grits -- and it also says it's polenta. "Grits-polenta" is how the product is listed in the company's catalog. Searching online, I found several places where it says that grits are hulled and polenta is not. But I'm not sure I understand. I thought hulled corn was known as hominy, and that the grits made from hominy were hominy grits. Is it not the case that, if you make grits from un-hulled corn, they're still grits -- just not hominy grits? Or is hominy part and parcel of the definition of grits? In terms of white and yellow corn, presumably grits can be made from any color of corn and still be grits. The white corn is just a majority preference, not a rule, right?

Toliver, I think it's a bit much to call the author an idiot! His work seems pretty much on target for a general audience. Could his methodology have been more rigorous? Yes. Does that make him an idiot? No. It's not even clear to me that the Slate audience (or editors) would appreciate more rigor.

I loved that peach cake, and it felt like such a fitting dessert at the end of a Chinese meal. I mean, all her desserts (the ones I tried, at least) are great, but something like carrot cake feels like you're shifting gears, whereas the flavors and textures of the peach cake just seem to flow from the meal.

I can only think of two reasons why pressing on the solids would be recommended: first, in order to extract more flavor from the solids; second, in order to extract more liquid. The first is, I think, in most cases incorrect. A long-simmered stock is going to extract the important flavors through simmering; whatever is left is either relatively flavorless or may contribute negatively to flavor. There may be some exceptions, for example in making sauce a l'Armoricaine from shellfish one is supposed to press down pretty damn hard on the shells -- I've seen this done in restaurants with a level of force that few home cooks would ever muster. But for beef or chicken stock? I can't see the benefit. The second is undoubtedly true. Especially when cooking at home, where people are likely to use small stock pots, an alarming percentage of the liquid can potentially be lost because it's in and around the solids. And I can think of two reasons why pressing on the solids would be advised against: first, because it will cloud the stock; second, because it may make the stock (or, more likely, a sauce made from reduced stock) taste bitter or otherwise off. Clarity in stock is one of those universal fine-dining restaurant goals that just isn't that big a deal in home cooking, so I wouldn't worry at all about that aspect of it. Bitterness -- this is just my impression, without taking scientific measurements -- is probably not going to be a problem at the concentrations used for making soup or for American-style gravy. But when you get into demi-glace and other reduced, sauce-making concentrations you start to see negative ramifications from a stock that has a lot of particulates and harshly extracted stuff in it -- it can be bitter, it can take on a burnt character, etc.

By now I'm sure you've all received or read the "Take Gully to dinner" campaign pitch, which means you'll be taking Gully to dinner soon. Perhaps, as I did, you already took Gully to an early dinner tonight. Please use this topic to share accounts of your dinners with Gully (and for that purpose only). Here's what happened tonight when I took Gully to dinner: When I arrived at Cho Dang Gol -- that's the Korean restaurant on 35th Street in Manhattan where I was to take Gully to dinner -- Gully was already seated. Well, I shouldn't say he was seated, for two reasons: first, Gully, true to his Keith Haring/Hopi Indian roots, was at all times during dinner standing -- nay, dancing; second, Gully had chosen one of those tables where you sit (or in his case stand/dance) on the floor. Who knew Koreans sat on the floor? I thought that was a Japanese thing, but no, Koreans are big-time floor-sitters. And this table was hard-core. There was no wussy well underneath for roundeyes to put their legs. This was just a table on a hardwood floor, and I was expected to sit on the floor on a pillow the size of a Korean ass. I thought about asking Gully to switch to a different table, namely one with chairs, but I confess I was a little embarrassed. As those of you who've met me might have noticed, I struggle with a weight problem. One of my defense mechanisms is that I get very stubborn whenever anybody implies that my weight might disqualify me from accomplishing something. And, frankly, I wanted to make a good impression on Gully, as he is the only member of the eGullet Society staff who arguably outranks me. So, I sat on the floor like it was no big deal. I didn't sit cross-legged -- that just wasn't even an option -- but I sat like I imagine they sit in a Bedouin tent or something, you know, with my legs folded under me off to one side. A side-kneel of sorts. Gully greeted me: "Doo Boo Doo Roo Chi Gi," he said. "Doo Boo Dong Gu Rnag Dking," I replied. Translated literally, this exchange means: Gully: "Spicy pan fried kimchi, vegetables, clear noodles, rice cake & hand made tofu on hot stone plate, with or without pork." Me: "Eight pieces of small pancake mixed with tofu, ground pork and vegetables, covered with egg." I allowed Gully to place the order, and the food was quite wonderful. Trouble was, just as the first pan chan (an array of salady appetizer snacks) hit the table, my left leg started to fall asleep. As the numbness in my left leg progressed towards pain, I attempted to keep the conversation going with Gully (we were conversing entirely in Korean, so it required a lot of mental resources) while eating those slippery salads with chopsticks. I also had a lot of trouble figuring out how to use my napkin effectively, since I was without a lap. Eventually, I could no longer stand the pain, so I decided to reverse my position. There were a few problems with this plan, though: first, I couldn't get the leverage to do it because I had no mobility left in my left leg; second, I wanted to accomplish this maneuver without alerting Gully to my discomfort; and third, for whatever reason I have no trouble mustering up the flexibility to side-kneel with my legs to the left, but somehow the side-kneel to the right doesn't work for me. Eventually, though, I realized that Gully (in part because he was standing/dancing) couldn't see under the table, so I sort of stuck my legs out straight under the table. It then became a race between restoring circulation in my leg and losing it in the base of my spine. But I had reached an equilibrium of sorts, shifting back and forth between the two positions every ten minutes or so for the duration of the two-hour meal. After I paid the bill -- Korean food can get expensive if you let Gully order -- I went to stand up. This proved impossible. Unfortunately, I didn't discover the problem until I was half-way up, so I crashed to the ground unceremoniously and needed the assistance of a small army of Koreans in order to assume a standing position. At this point, much to my surprise, Gully said, "Moo Doo Boo Ojing Oh Book Um," which, translated literally, means "Man, my legs are killing me from standing and dancing for two hours." I replied, "Cho Dang Gol Son Doo Boo Jun Gol?" which, translated literally, means "I don't understand. Why didn't you just sit down?" Gully stopped dancing for the first time since I had met him, stared at the floor, and admitted sheepishly, "Mo Doo Boo Nak Ji Bok Um," which, translated literally, means "Well, I walked into the restaurant and they offered me this table on the floor. Actually, all the tables are on the floor. What I mean is that they offered me one of the tables where you're expected to sit on the floor. I really had my heart set on impressing you, so I impulsively accepted the offer of the floor-sitting table. I was just realizing my mistake -- I really hate sitting on the floor because my left leg always falls asleep -- when you arrived. I was hoping you'd ask to move, but you just sat down on the floor like it was no big deal. I couldn't believe that a big white guy like you could do it so effortlessly. It wasn't until the end of the meal, when you crashed down to the floor, nearly killing me and that table of elderly Korean ladies behind us, that I realized you'd been faking it the whole time. I was also having some adequacy issues. I'm only three feet tall today (my size varies as Dave the Cook adjusts my pixels per inch) and if I'd sat on the floor my eyes would barely have come above the level of the table. At least with a chair I could have asked for a booster seat. I'm sorry. I love you."

You can't be serious... ← I confess I was kidding. In reality I play a little game where I analyze my inbound hate mail, blog and message-board posts about me, and voicemail messages and assign points to the various epithets and scorn heaped upon me. "Nazi" or "Stalinist" gets 3 points, an attack on my integrity gets 2 points and garden-variety swear words are 1 point each. So far I have 3.1 million points.

Dear Friends of Gully,<br><br> Gully is hungry. Please, won't you take Gully to dinner? <br><br> <img src="http://www.egullet.com/imgs/feed_gully_bg.gif" align="right"> Gully -- the little man in the eGullet Society logo -- has been with us since the beginning, and has never asked for so much as a crust of bread. But now, after five years, Gully can no longer sit (well, stand) in silence. He wants you to take him to dinner. <br><br> Not really, of course. Gully is pretend, and he has a computer mouse in place of a stomach anyway. Rather, what we're asking is that you donate the cost of dinner to the eGullet Society's "Take Gully to dinner" fund. <br><br> Were you planning to head out to dinner tonight? Stop! The eGullet Society is beginning its winter fundraising drive to finance its growing eG Scholarships program and other services. This year, we're offering five $5,000 culinary arts scholarships. We're also planning to upgrade our hardware and software capabilities and expand our online offerings. And we want to keep basic membership in the eGullet Society free. All this requires money, yet Gully has no marketable skills -- he depends entirely on the generosity of donors like you. <br><br> Most of our members and readers owe many wonderful meals -- in restaurants and at home -- to information gathered from eG Forums. Likewise, they've avoided many bad meals. Now we're asking you to give one meal back. <br><br> According to a study by the International Restaurant Association, the average eGullet Society member dines out 35 times a week. Well, not really, but you may be a person who frequently drops several hundred dollars (or the equivalent) on fine-dining meals. So tonight, or one night soon, won't you order pizza instead and take Gully to dinner with the price of one of those fine meals? <br><br> Or perhaps you don't dine out much, but focus your efforts on home cooking. If so, won't you have a peanut butter sandwich one night and take Gully to dinner with the price of one of your finest home- cooked meals? <br><br> And what a great dinner date Gully is! He listens attentively, he never complains or argues, he always shares his food and he loves you unconditionally. Better still, every penny you spend taking him to dinner is tax deductible to the full extent of United States law (which means under some circumstances it may also be deductible in countries like Canada, which have reciprocity arrangements with the United States). We'll issue you a 501©(3) tax receipt.<br><br> And that's not all. If you spend $100 or more taking Gully to dinner before the end of the year, Gully will reward you with a limited edition eGullet Society 2006 coffee mug. These mugs are not available in any stores, and they're really nice -- and big, of course. (If you don't wish to receive a mug and would instead prefer that 100% of your donation go to support the eGullet Society, please note this with your payment.) <br><br> Just click one of the options below to make an online payment and take Gully to dinner. We accept all major credit cards and PayPal. <br><br> <a href="https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr? cmd=_xclick&business=giving%40egullet% 2eorg&item_name=%245%2c350%20Take%20Gully% 20to% 20Dinner&item_number=tgtd5350&amount=5350% 2e00&no_shipping=0&tax=0&currency_code=USD&lc= US&bn=PP%2dDonationsBF&charset=UTF% 2d8">$5,350 - Fly Gully and his only amigo, the mouse, to elBulli for a tasting menu ($5,350 is the cost of a $5,000 eG Scholarship plus the $350 fee we pay to the independent administrators)</a> <br><br> <a href="https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr? cmd=_xclick&business=giving%40egullet% 2eorg&item_name=%241%2c000%20Take%20Gully% 20to% 20Dinner&item_number=tgtd1000&amount=1000% 2e00&no_shipping=0&tax=0&currency_code=USD&lc= US&bn=PP%2dDonationsBF&charset=UTF% 2d8">$1,000 - Take Gully to Alain Ducasse at the Plaza Athenee in Paris for the white truffle tasting menu with wine pairings</a> <br><br> <a href="https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr? cmd=_xclick&business=giving%40egullet% 2eorg&item_name=%24500%20Take%20Gully%20to% 20Dinner&item_number=tgtd500&amount=500% 2e00&no_shipping=0&tax=0&currency_code=USD&lc= US&bn=PP%2dDonationsBF&charset=UTF% 2d8">$500 - Take Gully to an overpriced tourist trap restaurant and let the sommelier upsell like crazy</a> <br><br> <a href="https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr? cmd=_xclick&business=giving%40egullet% 2eorg&item_name=%24250%20Take%20Gully%20to% 20Dinner&item_number=tgtd250&amount=250% 2e00&no_shipping=0&tax=0&currency_code=USD&lc= US&bn=PP%2dDonationsBF&charset=UTF% 2d8">$250 - Take Gully to a New York Times four- star restaurant and only drink tap water</a> <br><br> <a href="https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr? cmd=_xclick&business=giving%40egullet% 2eorg&item_name=%24100%20Take%20Gully%20to% 20Dinner&item_number=tgtd100&amount=100% 2e00&no_shipping=0&tax=0&currency_code=USD&lc= US&bn=PP%2dDonationsBF&charset=UTF% 2d8">$100 - Cook Gully a really nice dinner featuring FedExed lobsters</a> <br><br> <a href="https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr? cmd=_xclick&business=giving%40egullet% 2eorg&item_name=%2450%20Take%20Gully%20to% 20Dinner&item_number=tgtd50&amount=50% 2e00&no_shipping=0&tax=0&currency_code=USD&lc= US&bn=PP%2dDonationsBF&charset=UTF%2d8">$50 - Sorry Gully, if I have to order pizza then you have to settle for pizza too!</a> <br><br> <a href="https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr? cmd=_xclick&business=giving%40egullet% 2eorg&item_name=Take%20Gully%20to% 20Dinner&item_number=tgtd0000&no_shipping=0&tax= 0&currency_code=USD&lc=US&bn=PP% 2dDonationsBF&charset=UTF%2d8">Give Gully any other amount of money to fend for himself</a> <br><br> All amounts United States Dollars (USD).<br><br> Or, if you'd prefer to send a check, our mailing address is below (checks are preferred for donations over $500, so as to save on credit card processing fees). We can also customize a wide variety of automatic payment plans for you ($50 a month, $10 a week, etc.). You can just reply to this email or contact us at <a href="mailto:giving@eGullet.org">giving@eGullet.org</a>.<br><br> <b>And once you've taken Gully to dinner, be sure to post an account of your evening on the <a href="http://forums.egullet.org/index.php?showtopic=95685">How did your dinner with Gully go?</a> topic.</b><br><br> Thanks so much. Gully really appreciates it. <br><br> <i>Mailing address (please be sure to include the suite number):</i> <br> "Take Gully to Dinner"<br> eGullet Society for Culinary Arts & Letters<br> 20 East 93rd Street, Suite #1A<br> New York, NY 10128 <br><br> <i>(Gully would like to acknowledge the inspiration of Bernard Lechowick of Bard College, the originator of the "Take Bard to dinner" program)</i><br><br> With relish on behalf of Gully,

Tonight's episode, wherein Lorelai and Christopher go to Paris, had the most unrealistic food allusions of any episode yet. First, while at the hotel, Christopher calls and makes a same-day 8:30pm reservation at Arpege, like it's no big deal. Then, they sleep through dinner because of the time change. Then, Christopher pays the staff of Arpege to open the restaurant for dinner for just the two of them at 4am. Worse, they show up at "Arpege" and it's not Arpege -- it's some restaurant they used for the scene that looks nothing like Arpege, has this incredible view of the Paris skyline and serves dessert on little plates like in a diner.

In everything I do, I try to please all of the people all of the time. I can't stand criticism (especially of me) or controversy. Nobody ever complains to me or about me, but if I ever did receive or get wind of a letter of complaint I'd retract whatever I'd written and pursue another career. In particular, I never post in online discussions, because they're not safe.

Do you really think that's what I said? I was responding to Adam. He said it's in Science magazine, therefore the science is good. I disagreed, and pointed out that at least one scientist thinks the science is not only not good but also "mind-boggling stupid." My point is that the fact that it's in Science magazine doesn't make it right.

And yet, you have Ray Hilborn, University of Washington professor of aquatic and fishery sciences (whose credentials are impressive), saying "It's just mind-boggling stupid." So, not all scientists seem to agree with your reasoning, which is, as I understand it, that if it's in Science then the science is good.

Right. Gross sales is the measure. Profitability does tend to follow, but not necessarily in lock step.

Depends on the wine list.

That's the scenario in which guidebooks are indeed far more useful than online sources, reviews, etc. The information is organized and packaged with the walking-around or driving-around tourist in mind. I've been known to pull a dog-eared Zagat guide (I'm still using 2004 because nobody has sent me a free one since then) out of the glove compartment when I find myself in an unplanned, uninformed, unfamiliar neighborhood situation. I'm more likely to use Zagat for that, however, simply because the quantity of data is so much larger than what any other guidebook (and certainly Michelin) offers. Zagat is a relatively comprehensive, annotated, well organized (in many different ways), nicely sized address book of a city's restaurants. Nobody can touch Zagat for that. Technology is likely to push harder against the guidebooks soon, though. We're not too far away from people having really good mobile web access facilitated by GPS -- it should eventually be as common as having a cell phone. At that point the package the guidebook comes in will cease to be an advantage. That may open up the field a bit. Simon, the only thing you've said that I disagree with is the "If my views tally with Michelin as an outsider, then that's pretty useful to me." I think it's worth the investment of time and effort, when going anyplace, to learn why locals view things the way they do. Otherwise you wind up in the places that cater to tourists. For most tourists, that's what they want, but for anybody with 100+ eG Forums posts it's not likely to be the real goal.

As far as I know, pretty much all oysters sold commercially are the products of mariculture. Oyster and clam farming that occurs in the open water, as much of it does, is a good example of a type of farming that benefits the environment and produces seafood of similar quality to what would grow wild. Decent summary from Starchefs.com: While some fish produced by aquaculture are lame, and some aquaculture methods are damaging to the environment, I think it's fair to say that aquaculture -- like most things -- is a mixed bag. It produces plenty of delicious fish as well. To use the salmon example you raised, I find Bay of Fundy farmed salmon to be delicious. Also, a lot of "wild" salmon are sort of hybrids in that they're born in hatcheries. Plenty of wild fish are lousy, by the way. They sit for too long on boats, are poorly handled, etc. Farmed fish tend to be more reliable and consistent, without the high highs or low lows of wild -- that's pretty much how agriculture goes. In any event, no matter how fisheries are regulated, I don't think it's realistic to expect the future to happen without aquaculture being the primary source of fish. I mean, human civilization can't subsist off mostly wild food. Aquaculture is just the natural evolution of agriculture. Wild species can provide for some of our needs but the bulk of our food has to be raised by us.

There's an interesting op-ed by John Tierney in the New York Times today, dismissing the study and discussing the use of property rights to protect fisheries. Unfortunately the piece is behind the Times Select paywall. For those who have Times Select the link is: http://select.nytimes.com/2006/11/04/opinion/04tierney.html A couple of quotes:

That's amateurgourmet's best piece ever. Really good stuff. Reminiscent of the New Yorker ADNY comic (in a rare exercise of self-deprecation, they have it posted in the bathroom). I haven't yet found a really reliable source on the plans for Ducasse's St. Regis restaurant. For the past couple of years I'd been hearing that they wanted to get out of the Essex House and find a more worthy space for a three-star-type restaurant. Now I'm hearing that only a small number of Ducasse's people will be sent over to staff the St. Regis place -- a move that would argue against the St. Regis restaurant being a Ducasse signature restaurant and would put it more on the level of one of the second tier Ducasse places like Mix in Las Vegas (which, amazingly, is the sixth most profitable independent restaurant in America, according to R&I). Then again the talented Tony Esnault will be the chef, so who knows?

There's a piece in the Seattle Times on this study. Two things about the coverage were interesting to me. First, there's this response from a skeptic: (About Ray Hilborn) Second, there's this note on the grab for headlines:

People who get good Michelin rankings are of course invested in supporting Michelin, and have nothing to gain by publicly stating that Michelin is ridiculous (which is what most of them believe). It's the same with Zagat or Mobil or any of the guides or top-50 lists out there: restaurants would rather be included than not, no matter how silly the ratings are. There's no conflict between publishing bios and maintaining anonymity. Inspectors don't have to reserve using their real names. Bios could even be published without names. The failure to publish information about the inspectors should create, at least for the skeptic, a presumption that Michelin has something to hide. Likewise, the quirky nature of the guide indicates that the inspectors are collectively not well informed about the New York dining scene -- that they may learn enough in three or four years to fake their way through assembling the guide gives me little comfort. And what we know from the Remy book and general experience about Michelin's politicization and lack of rigor also introduce a negative presumption. In addition, the Michelin inspectors eventually reveal themselves to the restaurants when they do kitchen inspections, so I wouldn't believe too firmly in their absolute anonymity. I don't know any Michelin inspectors but I do know plenty of chefs who can recognize a couple of them.

The only reason I can think of not to publish bios of the inspectors is that the bios are mediocre or worse. Otherwise why not document their excellence? But I agree, Michelin should be judged on its performance in Europe! And they have precious little good to say about it, unless they've received accolades -- deserved or not. Really?