Fat Guy

The main attraction of Ruby Tuesday, for my crew, is the salad bar. I'll be interested to see how the Manhattan outpost handles this. The all-you-can-eat salad bar has had a shaky history here. On account of the appeal of the salad bar, I've probably eaten at Ruby Tuesday's 20-30 times in the past decade while on road trips, and I've sampled the entire menu through various iterations. I have to respectfully disagree with Mr. C (assuming he is the author -- there is no attribution I can find) on the burger -- it's way too compacted and industrial tasting. The "typhoon" (it's actually "Thai Phoon" on the menu) shrimp are okay, as is anything from the deep fryer: chicken fingers, whatever. The steak, again, I think it's not good, but I do like the baby back ribs. They're a little sweet, but good. The best thing to order, in my opinion, is the salad bar plus the "triple play" platter: half a rack of ribs, chicken tenders ("Tuesday tenders") and fried shrimp.

If we wait long enough, Columbus Avenue will become Fifth Avenue and Lespinasse a bistro.

A reporter from the National Post (Canada) got wind of this discussion, or perhaps the eGCI class that incited it, or something, and called me the other day. Her piece on the subject is titled The allure of the usual. I also suggested she contact Lesley C(hesterman), who has some interesting quotes towards the end of the story.

The question here that's interesting to me is: why New Jersey? Unlike California, New Jersey is not (at least I don't think it is) a significant foie gras producer. And unlike Chicago it's not (again, at least this is my educated guess) a significant foie gras consumer. So long as foie gras remains legal in New York, there's very little that can be done by this legislation other than to force D'Artagnan to relocate part or all of its operation from Newark to Long Island City, costing New Jersey jobs and revenue. The larger concern seems to be that the anti-foie-gras lobby, which is a proxy for the animal rights lobby and is only going after foie gras because it's an easy target (rich dilettantes eat it, it's expensive, the way it's made is weird and it has a French name) and a potential beachhead, is mounting similar campaigns in many states. Similar legislation is working its way through the systems in Hawaii, Washington and Massachusetts. It may fail in all cases, but it may succeed in one -- and then another and another. It may be that the minority interests whose personal and economic freedoms are threatened by these bans don't actually have enough power to protect themselves in places without significant fine dining industry presence. Federal legislation to protect traditional farming practices, rather than an exhausting and repetitive state-by-state campaign, may ultimately be the answer. I don't put much stock in the "I rarely eat foie gras so I don't care" attitude. People should care. A lot of people only have sex, read a book or take a vacation once a year -- or less. Doesn't mean that banning those things would be okay. Nor is public policy supposed to be determined by self-interest. I'm sure my quality of life wouldn't be diminished in any noticeable way by banning foie gras -- I'd just eat more veal and caviar to compensate -- but I'm still opposed to the regulation because it's wrong. Likewise, I'm sure the fine dining industry would be hurt very little by a ban -- D'Artagnan would take a big hit but surely survive, restaurants would make small menu adjustments and all would be well -- but that doesn't make the ban okay. It's still an unacceptable, misguided and opportunistic political power play that should scare the heck out of anybody who believes people should be able to choose what they put in their bodies.

Mr. Maw, color me embarrassed on your behalf, for you have omitted from your listing perhaps the finest food periodical on the planet -- and it's published right there in Vancouver: Forks & Corks Forks & Corks, published by the Greater Vancouver Convention and Visitors Bureau, arrives in my mailbox quarterly. I spend three months waiting -- nay, pining -- for Forks & Corks, and when it arrives I drop everything else and read every word. If anybody calls me during those four minutes, I don't answer the phone. I don't use the lavatory. I don't even make love to my wife -- my wife! -- during that time. It would be unthinkable. Thank you for listening.

Quick question: is there much foie gras produced in New Jersey?

It's Assemblyman Michael J. Panter (D): http://www.njleg.state.nj.us/members/panter.asp That page includes a contact link.

Different people are excited by different styles of food. Keeps things interesting.

The proposed ban won't apply to packaged food products like candy bars and chips -- only to prepared foods. So that mostly avoids getting into FDA territory.

This strikes me as the problem with many such conferences: they're ambitious in the wrong ways. StarChefs pulled together an incredible group, but seems to have done very little with it. I suppose that's inherent in the StarChefs approach to everything. Still, I think most such events could stand to learn a few lessons from IACP and Southern Foodways Alliance, where they try to generate new thinking rather than just put on a show.

The point isn't that trans-fats can't be harmful, it's that it's not a binary situation: as with most any food product, if you eat just a little it's quite harmless and if you eat a lot it can be harmful. The issue is quantity. In other words, a ban on trans fats makes no more sense than a ban on sugar, butter, eggs, white flour or bacon, because all those substances have thresholds (probably different for each individual) up to which they can be part of a balanced diet and beyond which they can be bad for you. In addition, yes, there is plenty of good research to indicate that trans fats are no more harmful than saturated fats. Gina Kolata's article in the New York Times from August, titled The Panic Du Jour: Trans Fats in Foods, provides a good overview. One excerpt:

It might make sense to ban trans-fats if we had unequivocal proof of their harmful properties, however there is no clear evidence that eating a moderate amount of trans-fats here and there has any effect on health or mortality. Trans-fats are at worst in the same category as sugar, saturated fats, eggs and other products that are most likely harmless in moderation but possibly more harmful as we increase our intake. As a result, a ban on trans-fats presents -- as rbailin points out -- the possibility that the government will ban any food it deems hazardous to our health. The problem is that any food is hazardous to human health when consumed in sufficient quantity, but most foods are not harmful at all if consumed occasionally. This false certainty on the government (and health lobby's) behalf is also dangerous because it comes in cycles: much of the reason so many of us ate so many trans-fats as kids was that the government was telling us to replace butter with margarine. There was a sense of total certainty about it. Now, the certainty runs the other way: margarine is evil. Where will it end?

Sounds like a good fit. The St. Regis/Lespinasse space is up to the standard of a Ducasse restaurant in a way that the Essex House space never could be, and there's a kitchen space to match. The dining room at Plaza Athenee in Paris is actually somewhat reminiscent of Lespinasse. I wonder if they'll make it over along similar lines.

For the outrageous price of $46 (including the pickles), you can have a gallon of the famous original Guss' pickles shipped to your door -- if you order Wednesday they arrive Friday. http://www.gusspickle.com/

This seems like a late challenge to the star system, which can't even evaluate Sripraphai adequately. Still, I think the theoretical question might be more interesting if the Times had a critic capable of making a coherent evaluation of any French restaurant, and if Michelin NYC had any real criteria left to its name. We've probably wandered off into pure star-talk, though, which we've got other topics for . . . .

(and two "expected")

Atelier in Paris has one Michelin star.

I use a knife to pry stuff open.

Interesting. I'd love to know where he is now. Andre was such an essential element of the service at my ADNY meals that the most recent meal I had, when he wasn't there, definitely lacked something. I can forgive the hard-middle-t version of Montrachet, since that's the English pronunciation, but I can't come up with a good excuse for the Lay's part.

Sometime in October I'll try to test this hypothesis.

How did he pronounce it? I read in Food Arts recently that Andre Compeyre, the wonderful head sommelier at ADNY, moved over to Daniel.

I absolutely would do that -- just as I'd go into any restaurant that serves food at the bar and order just an appetizer -- and it's no more gauche than the idea of an "atelier" where you sit at a counter overlooking the kitchen. The restaurant holds itself out as a casual place where you can order as much or as little as you want, and I take that claim at face value. Anyone who feels bound by some secret set of rules to spend $150 on every visit is free to do so, but it's a choice not a requirement.

I'm having trouble understanding the price issue. Joe seems to have summed it up best: you can order whatever you want. For example, from the "small tasting portions" section of the menu I have (this may be outdated) you could order: Les Cuisses De Grenouille - crispy frog's legs, garlic puree and parsley couils 17.00 L'oeuf - soft boiled eggs on a spicy eggplant stew 17.00 Le Calamar - sauteed squid, baby artichoke, chorizo, with tomato water 18.00 So that would get you to $52 for food. Tax would add $4.50 and a 20% tip would be $10.40. Granted that wouldn't be a filling meal, but it would give one the opportunity to experience Robuchon's food for $65 grand total. Those prices -- $17, $18 -- are comparable to what the Bar Room at the Modern charges for its small plates. Now, if you want to start ordering various $48 and $58 plates, or a tasting menu, or wine, or whatever, then it's going to cost more. That seems more a matter of self-control than what the restaurant allows, though. I imagine one could just order that egg-eggplant dish, pay the $17 and walk out the door. Grab a slice of pizza afterwards if the goal of filling your belly (which is so not the point of haute cuisine) hasn't been met. The point being, very few restaurants offer you the ability to do that.

Like the swallows of San Juan Capistrano, my Koreans have returned! I walked by the location on the way to Citibank, and it was open for business. Construction on the exterior is not quite complete, but there is a brand-new and quite spiffy interior with a completely different floor plan and they're mostly stocked with merchandise.

Would it be possible to elaborate? ← It's about selling magazines and sending messages, not about what anybody actually thinks is the list of best restaurants. Publishers and editors know that ratings, rankings and awards sell copies. Even though nobody at Gourmet could possibly take the idea of this sort of list seriously, or expect serious observers to, they push ahead with it because it helps their circulation numbers and gets them attention (as here). In addition, when making the list, they're clearly taking into consideration many issues that have nothing to do with food quality. They're trying to assemble a list that's geographically diverse and also gives props to the various favorite chefs and restaurateurs of the people who make the list. But the reality is that, unlike in a nation like France, the great restaurants of the US are indeed concentrated in and around a few big cities. Being a great restaurant in New York, however, works against you if you're on this list. I too noticed the rather thin presence of Asian restaurants, especially Japanese. I can understand not including many Chinese places, because we really don't seem to have world-class Chinese restaurants in the US, however we have quite a few great Japanese ones. To include only Masa and nee Masa on the list seems wrong.