Fat Guy

hhawk and Chef Dan: Every variable we introduce can redouble the number of experiments we need to do, so the core lab experiments for this seminar will be relatively conservative. The liquids will be stock, wine and water, alone and in some combinations with each other and with aromatic vegetables. For most students in the seminar, these permutations will already test the limits of oven space, available pans and reasonable meat resources. But if you want "extra credit," you can certainly add milk or coca cola to your own lab work and report back to us. The only thing I ask is that you also do enough of the basic experiments to be able to give a comparative report. For example, the following would be a great addition to the seminar: Today, in addition to the braised short ribs in stock, wine, half-stock/half-wine, and water-with-mirepoix, I braised a batch of short ribs in Diet A&W Root Beer and a batch in chocolate milk. Here are some photographs of how they looked during and after cooking. My observations, upon comparing the samples, are that the ones done in wine display the following characteristics . . . by contrast, the ones done in chocolate milk . . . The following would not be a permissible addition to the seminar: I already know what short ribs taste like when they're braised in stock and wine, so today I decided to braise some in grapefruit juice instead. They tasted really good, much better than I remember ones braised in stock tasting. The point being, we are doing live, side-by-side comparisons. We're forgetting what we know, and approaching this scientifically, together, in a seminar format, with open minds. I hope we'll see lots of interesting "extra credit" work.

My mother's "friend" Nick, who is from Texas, is a major consumer of Ro*Tel (the product originated in Elsa, Texas). I believe he favors the Extra Hot Diced Tomatoes & Chile Peppers formulation. The combination with Velveeta is something that has been presented to me on several occasions, and it's pretty tasty as a dip for tortilla chips absentmindedly consumed while watching television.

As a definitional matter, is it possible to have pain without memory or a brain? When I interviewed Dr. Robert Steneck, a marine biologist and lobster expert at the University of Maine, a few years ago, he posited that, ultimately, lobsters have no memory and no centralized brain, and that pain without memory or a brain means lobsters simply "feel stimuli and respond to them, like when the lights come on and you squint your eyes."

On the food smells topic I told the uncomfortable story of my intense dislike for rosemary. I reiterate it here: Back in 1986 when I was a junior in high school I spent Christmas in California at the home of some friends of friends. They were warm, wonderful, generous people who also happened to be excellent cooks. This was the era during which people who could cook French food were referred to as "gourmet cooks." Anyway, for about a week we ate very well indeed. But for Christmas dinner a turkey was prepared according to a recipe from some magazine, probably Gourmet, and the recipe involved the entire rosemary harvest of the state of California. There was rosemary under the skin of the turkey and there were pieces of it sticking out of the skin, making the turkey look like a chia pet or a hedgehog. There was rosemary in the stuffing. And there was rosemary in the gravy. For good measure, a rosemary potato dish was prepared as one of the sides. Well, let me tell you, there is a certain saturation of rosemary beyond which there is no turning back. I ate so much rosemary that, for the next two days, my breath smelled of rosemary, I was burping rosemary, and even my sweat had a rosemary edge to it. My reaction to it became increasingly visceral, so much so that later in the week when I smelled rosemary upon walking into a restaurant I became dizzy and weak kneed and needed to brace myself against a stranger to keep from passing out (nobody in Los Angeles considered that behavior to be the slightest bit odd, though, and she actually wound up inviting me to a party, but that's another story involving a DWI checkpoint and the questionable status of my New York State junior driver's license). To this day, if I get a serious hit of pure rosemary smell I still have that reaction. Even just writing about it has sent me into a mild panic.

The eGullet Society for Culinary Arts & Letters is delighted to welcome renowned New York Times food and wine writer Eric Asimov for a Q&A session the week of February 14, 2005. Eric Asimov is the chief wine critic of the New York Times, a position he assumed in June 2004 after having covered wine with the Times's tasting panel and in his Tastings column. He created the “$25 and Under” restaurant reviews in 1992 and wrote them through 2004. He is a co-author of the New York Times Guide to Restaurants 2004, the fifth edition of the guide. He has also reviewed takeout food for the Times in his “To Go” column and has offered radio commentary on food and wine on WQXR New York since 1999. His freelance work has appeared in Food and Wine, Details and Martha Stewart Living. His previous book, $25 and Under: A Guide to the Best Inexpensive Restaurants in New York, was published annually by HarperCollins from 1995 to 1998. At the Times, he was editor of the “Living” section from 1991 to 1994 and editor of “Styles of the Times” from 1994 to 1995. He is a graduate of Wesleyan University in Middletown, Conn., and did graduate work in American studies at the University of Texas at Austin. He is married to Deborah Hofmann, has two children, Jack and Peter, and lives in Manhattan. Eric Asimov's writings appear every week in the New York Times “Dining In, Dining Out” section. Please join us for Eric Asimov's Q&A session the week of February 14, 2005. Click here to go to the eG Forums Q&A with Eric Asimov.

Two words: Russell Hobbs The Russell Hobbs cordless electric kettles (cordless in the sense that the heating element is in the kettle and you set it into a base to power it) are the best, the most long-lived, the fastest, and the most attractive kettles out there. They are almost universally favored by in-the-know Brits who are serious about tea. And they are not that easy to find. At least, it's difficult to find one that was made in England. The one I have, you can sometimes find on ebay, for example here's a new one. I have been wailing on one of these for more than a decade -- not that I use it every day or even every week, but when I use it I treat it harshly. And in the UK it is not uncommon for people to use these things several times a day for decades. The currently available (sometimes) unit that I'd consider most strongly is the RHOK3123. This is a great looking one, and would fit in very well with the decor scheme you're describing -- very retro-futuristic. I'm pretty sure this is manufactured in Hong Kong by or for Salton, but it looks promising.

It's hard to get accurate dimensions from the online vendors that sell these products, but I'd again mention that the closeups from Marlene's camera create the appearance of more curvature than there actually is in these vessels. Both the Le Creuset buffet casserole and the All Clad Dutch oven have a good deal of flat bottom. The Le Creuset has more, certainly. But The All Clad utensil appears to be almost 11" across at the top, and I would think it could easily accommodate a roast 9" across for browning purposes. Even if the sides are starting to slope up at the 8" diameter mark, there is some flexibility in a piece of meat, which is not likely to be more than 9" in the longest dimension unless it's brisket or plate. If the piece of meat is really wide, like a brisket, then the Dutch oven isn't the best utensil for it unless you have a truly massive Dutch oven. I don't. For brisket I usually just use one or two of my 9.5"x13.5" rectangular baking dishes and cover with foil. In terms of browning, note that the stovetop is not the only option. If you have a good broiler, you can brown under the broiler on a half-sheet pan or broiler pan or 12" cast-iron skillet, with much less splatter than the stovetop method. This is the method preferred by James Beard in Theory and Practice of Good Cooking.

It would be nice if he could write a well-informed review about either!

If Mauviel is manufacturing Bourgeat's copper smallwares, it's doubly amazing to me that the Bourgeat shapes are so much better. How can we confirm that Bourgeat doesn't manufacture copper, though? Because when you surf around the Bourgeat site, the language and photographs seem to indicate that copper utensils are fabricated in that factory -- not the sheet metal, but the bending, polishing, affixing of handles, etc. Or not. I'd love to have a definitive answer. Also, in terms of what I've seen in high-end professional kitchens here in New York and in a few other places in the US -- and this is just anecdotal rather than statistical because it's not something I recorded on a chart or approached methodically -- I've not noticed any kitchens using Mauviel copper at all, whereas I see Bourgeat copper all the time (also haven't seen any Falk). I'm sure there are kitchens that use Mauviel and Falk, but I get a sense of Bourgeat being overwhelmingly preferred at the high end.

There are plenty of roasts that will fit in that pan, and plenty that won't (look here at the photos of the eye round roast and chuck roast). The ones that are wide and flat and closer to two inches thick will fit very well. (The two inch measure is just the definition from CBB). The ones that are rounder and have diameters of three or four inches will push the limits of the space. With a built-for-purpose Dutch/French oven, you don't have to worry about that. With this pan, you need a Dutch/French oven as a backup. Marlene appears to have that backup, and doesn't appear to have to make a choice -- she can keep both -- so I don't think she is going to face any problems.

The Le Creuset becomes a much more compelling keeper if you plan to serve from it. It's an attractive vessel that can be placed on the dinner table for a dramatic, rustic presentation of short ribs and the like. This is why it's called a buffet casserole -- because you're supposed to place it on the buffet or table as a service piece.

Not at all. So long as there's about an inch of breathing room -- and you could probably get away with half an inch -- between the top of the meat and the inside surface of the lid, the steam will circulate and the meat will braise. The pan's sides themselves need only be about an inch higher than the level of the braising liquid -- you don't want to push too close on that because otherwise it may bubble over, or spill when you carry the pot. So, you can make it work. But I would always opt for that All-Clad Dutch oven as a pot-roast pot over the Le Creuset buffet casserole. That All-Clad Dutch oven has been waiting all its life to cook a pot roast. If Williams-Sonoma ever has to give it a new name in order to charge $50 more for it, they should call it a "pot roast pot."

For several decades now, dining rooms have been becoming much less a part of the modern lifestyle. You can see this most vividly in basic home architecture: modern homes have more open floor plans and tend to have kitchens opening onto mixed-use dining-living spaces, whereas in older homes the kitchen, dining room and living room tend to be three actual rooms with doorways separating them. I'm in favor of this trend. The old-style layout assumes mom will work in the kitchen and schlep a meal out to the family in the dining room. While I think it would be a great thing for more families to sit down to more meals together, these days the whole dynamic of communication, participation and sharing of burdens favors a kitchen that opens on to the dining-living space. Where I live, in the New York metro area, housing tends to be pretty old. This presents some interesting situations among a number of my friends, who are just now at the age where they have made partner at their law firms, graduated from medical school and entered private practice, etc. They are buying these houses in the suburbs that date back to the 1960s or earlier, and in New York City they're buying pre-War (WWII, that is) apartments and turn-of-the-century (the 19th turning into the 20th, that is) townhouses. So they have these dining rooms and they never use them -- they do all their eating in the kitchen, even when they have a small number of guests over (and they never do serious entertaining because they work long hours and devote every other waking moment to kids). The denial mechanisms, however, are amazing. These people have 300 square feet of unused prime real estate in the middle of their home, yet they refuse to dismantle their dining rooms and create, for example, a play room for the kids or an audio-visual room for the family.

As far as I can tell, the product that Williams-Sonoma has labeled the "braiser" (most likely in order to be able to charge $50 more for it) is what Le Creuset and every other store call a "buffet casserole." Everybody I know who has one sings the praises of its versatility. And I think in that third shot Marlene's lens exaggerates the curvature of the item -- if you look at the photo above it, that's more true-to-life in terms of the way the sides slope and the expanse of the flat part of the bottom. I would say that while this item is no doubt as good as any other Le Creuset piece for braising short ribs, lamb shanks and other short-ish items, it may get maxed out by a significant pot roast. Two inches is the minimum thickness for something even to be considered a roast, most roasts are at least three inches thick, and a bottom round roast or round tip roast is likely to be in the four-inch range or more if it's a big one. Even with that dome lid, you may get to the point where a pot roast exceeds the vertical capacity of that unit. Whereas, on a 6-3/4 quart oval Le Creuset French oven, you get a full five inches of height edge to edge, which is enough to hold just about any roast you can buy retail.

The idea of rating on a scale of 1 to 10 is not the same as saying one thing is a certain percentage better than another thing. We can say that 10 is better than 9. That doesn't require quantification in the absolute sense -- it's just rank-ordering. The absurdity mostly enters the system when you start saying that 10 is 40% better than 9 and you're talking about something like a meal or a work of art or a musical composition. Also, to be clear, what I said was: I certainly don't think when people say this they are actually referring to a 1% difference in quality. They are simply saying the difference is very small, just as when you say "99% of people" colloquially you mean "almost everybody." Of course, it would at least be minimally helpful if Frank Bruni gave us something to work with. Even if we didn't agree, we could know where he's coming from. But instead of giving a meaningful analysis of diminishing returns and the standard he uses, he mostly just whines, nitpicks and delivers a verdict. It's unfortunate that the New York Times reviewing position has become such a Being There sort of gig, where the only authority the reviewer has is by virtue of the podium and not by virtue of what he knows, writes or inspires. Such a system is not sustainable over the long haul.

If he really only tasted 20 dishes and five were flawed, do you still think his list of defective dishes was longer than five? In any event, you're assuming he dined in a group of two on each of five occasions, when the Times critics have historically often dined in groups of four and six. It is also almost unheard of for them not to sample tasting menus. I'm not even sure the foie gras ravioli exists outside of the tasting menu. And ADNY's a la carte menu when ordered in the full format includes appetizer, fish, meat and dessert -- so three savory courses plus one dessert. I don't know how many savory plates he sampled, but the top of the range might be something like 5 visits times an average of 4 diners times an average of 4 savory dishes each, which would equal 80 savory dishes and in excess of 100 plates counting main desserts only, and closer to 140 counting amuses, intermezzos, etc. Or the number could be closer to 20. It's not likely to be that low, but it's possible. I don't necessarily think the statistical methodology is helpful in reaching conclusions about the quality of a restaurant, but I do think it's helpful in creating context. In any event, there is then the question of the reliability of the complaints. They are in some cases poorly articulated, in one case possibly misleading, and in other cases questionable. You can also think about it this way: if a quarter of the dishes coming out of the kitchen at ADNY were bad, there would be riots at the restaurant.

That's okay. It's still not only possible but likely that I'm right. I'll summarize the case against the "everyone" interpretation one more time: - The cheap use of "numerous," "recurring" and "beset" as poor substitutes for criticism should set off alarms in the minds of those who are reading critically. These are exactly the words a writer uses when he wants everybody to assume there's more without him actually having to say there's more. - The failure to say "for example," "among others," or "there were many more" is telling at the level of professional newspaper writing, where the writer has been a journalist for years and where the copy editing is rigorous. - It is a standard reasonable assumption not only in law but in common-sense reading of lists that the list is intended to be complete unless otherwise stated. In this case, it is not otherwise stated. If I state, "There are numerous and recurring problems with my Plymouth Grand Voyager minivan. The brakes squeak. The right front hubcap keeps popping off. The heating system it hisses at you. Sometimes when you turn the headlights off they stay on. There is an odd chirping noise emanating from the engine compartment," the reasonable assumption is that I have just given my list. If I say, "There are numerous and recurring problems with my Plymouth Grand Voyager minivan. Just to name a few/among others/for example, the brakes squeak. The right front hubcap keeps popping off. The heating system it hisses at you. Sometimes when you turn the headlights off they stay on. There is an odd chirping noise emanating from the engine compartment," that's how the reader learns that he is seeing examples as opposed to a full list. - We know that Frank Bruni is willing to be picayune in his criticisms, as with the bathroom fixture problem, so we have no reason to assume he would leave anything out. - The review would have been more effective had it listed more examples of defective dishes, and it's safe to assume the reviewer knew that yet chose not to list more defects. Most likely, this is either because he wanted the review to be less convincing, or there were not any more defects to articulate. - Virtually no restaurant review includes a description of every dish or a litany of every specific complaint. Especially in restaurant reviews that are overwhelmingly positive, the standard tendency is to understate or minimize the defects, or leave them out entirely. However, in restaurant reviews that tend in the negative direction -- especially when a demotion is involved -- the standard tendency is to make sure you include all the defects, either specifically or by category. For example, if there is a recurring problem with over- and under-cooking, you can say "Lamb ordered rare was cooked dry and with not a hint of pink, veal ordered medium was bloody, and on five other occasions meat was cooked to the wrong level of doneness." You can also make inferences when something like that is not said. All of this assumes the complaints are legitimate in the first place. As I've explained above, there are some reasons to wonder about four of the five -- and the fifth (the lamb) is based on a misleading description of a dish.

It's easy enough to say "among others" if that's what you mean. He did not. He gave a list and, if anything, the preferred interpretation of a list is that it is complete unless otherwise specified. As you know, in the law, where intent often needs to be ascertained from written documents like statutes, this basic principle of interpretation is known as Expressio unius est exclusio alterius: roughly, "the express mention of one thing implies the exclusion of others not mentioned." Who should get the benefit of the doubt here: the writer who had a chance to make it clear in the first place, or the restaurant that has no voice, no opportunity to respond, no ability to explain why it cooks veal the way it does?

Let's break it down again, starting with "recurring." I'll bold the words that I think are relevant on that point. At least in the first three instances, it is quite clear from the language that these were single and not recurring instances. We know the veal was not overcooked on a recurring basis, because it says "on one occasion." This tracks for the lamb and sea bream as well. Now when it comes to the pasta dishes, which were "beset with pasta problems," I don't know whether these examples recurred or not, but I suspect it would not be relevant: it seems to me the most likely explanation is that the dishes were as intended and were just not to the critic's liking. So if they were that way ten times instead of one, it wouldn't make a difference. So if no individual dish was a "recurring letdown," the term "recurring" must be redundant with "numerous." In terms of "numerous lackluster dishes," I suppose there's no way to know if we're seeing a complete list or a list of examples. And that's not our fault; it's the writer's fault. It would have taken two or three words to clear that up, and the lack of those words cuts in favor of this being a complete list. Certainly, though, given the shallowness of what analysis we can see, I would be very reluctant to presume a deep reservoir of backup analysis and examples that were kept from us.

I concur with that: there is a point at which enough inconsistency breaks the system and requires a change of rating. I've argued elsewhere that critics, with their limited sample sizes, are not particularly well situated to make that judgment. And it's especially problematic when a critic without much perspective does so. But yes, there is a breaking point. At the same time, I remain very wary of quantification and of binary success-or-failure determinations, in part because both the near-miss and the disaster will get the same zero in the binary system, and in part because most every dish is made up of numerous components and represents a whole greater than the sum of its parts. For example, to read Frank Bruni's review you'd think he ordered a dish called "saddle of lamb." But if you go to Ellen's photos in the ADNY thread or in her album, you'll see that the saddle is the secondary or tertiary component of the dish, which is called "Rack and saddle of lamb on the spit, lettuce, potatoes boulangere." If you look at current menus as well, there is no dish consisting of saddle of lamb only. No, the saddle should not be overcooked. But let's say, in that dish, the rack was perfectly cooked. How would that impact everybody's opinion of Frank Bruni's language choice: "Veal was undercooked on one occasion, while saddle of lamb was overcooked on another"?

How can one meal be "40% better" than or "twice as good as" another? I'm sure economists and statisticians would love to be able to pin numbers on meals, but it doesn't work that way. We're talking about art or something akin to it. While the market is always free to place valuations on this Picasso or that Miro, it is always absurd to say that the Picasso is "40% better" than the Miro. Also, were we even to attempt to quantify diminishing returns with respect to individual food products, those 25-40% numbers would be way out of line with realistic expectations. If you look at food situations where very clearly discernible criteria differentiate gradations of product -- caviar, those fancy Japanese melons, etc. -- what you will often notice is that price can increase several hundred percent while quality increases in only the most minute amounts, often the kinds of differences that are expressed colloquially as "less than 1%." This occurs across the board, whether you're talking about clothes or stereo equipment. But to those who can afford it, it is nonetheless worth paying more for the best. I don't know if Frank Bruni applies a diminishing returns analysis to his reviews or not. He complains plenty about Ducasse's prices but presents no theory to tie those complaints to a system of evaluation.

A simple statement that there were more would be a step in the right direction. The straightforward reading of the list is that it is the complete list. It doesn't say "for example." It doesn't say "among others." It's hard to imagine, if Frank Bruni had more in his arsenal, that he wouldn't have given some indications. And by the petty nature of his bathroom complaint, one can tell that he's willing to articulate minutiae when they help him make his case. But even just articulating the current list with some convincing specificity would have been helpful. Most dishes are not susceptible to a binary success-or-failure analysis, or even to application of a success:failure ratio no matter how detailed the criteria. For that and many other reasons it's not possible to quantify an acceptable "failure rate," nor should it be a goal. That's why a critic needs judgment, and that's why a critic with poor judgment is in the wrong line of work.

Todd, I agree with that assessment of the veal, however let me try to provide some context (or at least I think this is the context) at the review/criticism level: in order to review a restaurant well, you have to try to grasp what the restaurant is trying to accomplish, its target audience(s), and why it makes the decisions it makes. It is often surprising for eGullet Society members, who tend to be adventurous foodies, to hear this, but many of the Michelin three-star restaurants are not restaurants for adventurous foodies. I would say, just based on a rough estimate based on my memory of the list in France, that maybe half of them provide what I would call an adventurous foodie experience (Pierre Gagnaire, L'Esperance, Arpege) and the other half (places like ADPA, Taillevent and Georges Blanc) provide an ultra-luxe fine-dining experience that can be conservative or, in some cases, minimalist (Ambroisie would be a good example there). The thing is, at these ultra-luxe fine-dining places, the target audience is not the adventurous foodie. The target audience is rich people, whether they are adventurous or not. That's why, at a restaurant like ADNY, you have some dishes that appeal to the adventurous rich foodie, and some that appeal to the unadventurous rich luxury diner. Think about it: is there any four-star-level restaurant besides ADNY where you can get a steak? You can get composed dishes based on beef, but a whole steak schlepped out to your table and presented as such? Now, of course, what you get is a four-star steak -- "Aged ribeye of certified prime Black Angus studded with bone marrow, carrots, onions and black olives" -- but it is a steak nonetheless. When you look at a dish like that seemingly naked and underwhelming veal chop, I think it helps to view it in the same light. More importantly, the point I'm trying to make here is that all restaurants fail when examined according to the wrong criteria. And in some cases it is the restaurant, not the critic, that defines those criteria. Because really, nobody should care what Frank Bruni thinks unless he can demonstrate that he knows what he's talking about. And thus far, he has not demonstrated that. So given the choice between believing that Alain Ducasse and Christian Delouvrier have specified a certain temperature for veal that is lower than the overcooked norm at American restaurants, and believing that Frank Bruni has accurately revealed a problem, I am currently inclined to place more trust in Alain Ducasse and Christian Delouvrier. Which isn't to say ADNY is flawless. On the thread about the actual restaurant, you'll find dishes I didn't particularly like, and you'll find dishes where Ellen and I had differences of opinion. There was even an overcooked piece of fish one night -- we had the same dish, mine was cooked just right and hers was overcooked. It happens. But ADNY quite simply is a four-star restaurant. The claim that it is a three-star restaurant is absurd, and is one that places the New York Times in opposition to reality. To the extent that the New York Times by definition determines how many New York Times stars a restaurant actually holds at any given moment, of course ADNY is now a three-star restaurant. But by the standards that give that system its relevance, it is a four-star restaurant and the Times is currently beset with numerous and recurring reviews that have assigned the wrong number of stars to restaurants.

I've heard over and over again from experienced Chinese cooks that, even on a home range with a weak burner, a very thin wok performs better than a thick one. There are some cast-iron and heavy anodized aluminum woks on the market but, for example, both Eddie Schoenfeld and the chef's wife at Empire Szechuan Columbus have told me that, for whatever reason, the expected benefit of heat retention does not materialize with the thick woks, whereas the thinner you go the better you do on a weak burner. So, I guess my question is, are these people wrong (it's possible) or, if they're right, why would that be? I guess one thing worth considering is that a wok is supposed to have multiple heat zones, with a center hotspot and cooler zones radiating out -- so what may seem like an inefficient shape by Western cooking standards is actually the desirable shape by Chinese standards. Maybe all you really need is a super-hot center, and maybe a very thin piece of metal is so efficient that it works best for that purpose?

The words "numerous" and "recurring" mean very little. Although one is supposed to use the term numerous to refer only to great numbers, as in "a numerous army," we all know that a common use of numerous is to make numbers sound larger than they are. The term "recurring" also, often, is used as a form of exaggeration. The review also includes a use of "beset" to refer to two instances. Luckily, we can count: 1) "Veal was undercooked on one occasion," 2) "while saddle of lamb was overcooked on another." 3) "Sea bream had been left on the plancha too long, although the crunchiness of the skin was partial redemption." 4) "The restaurant was also beset with pasta problems: foie gras ravioli in which the foie gras was not fully discernible;" 5) "ricotta ravioli with even less flavor." Even assuming no errors in judgment on the reviewer's part, one has to wonder if these complaints constitute "numerous" and "recurring" problems by which the restaurant is "beset." Presumably there were several people dining with the reviewer on each visit, allowing for the tasting of a large number of plates over the course of multiple visits. I would say that if you have only five nits to pick and the other 95 or however many dishes you've tasted range from last-supper exceptional to ultra luxurious refinement, you are in a four-star restaurant. Per Se does not perform as well, and certainly the other three non-Masa four-stars don't. But then I think it's also worth asking if we have any good reason to believe the complaints. I am most likely to assign credibility to the comment that the lamb was overcooked. This is something that isn't hard to ascertain. I am a lot less likely to assign credibility to the claim that the veal was undercooked -- given that the reviewer has never exhibited familiarity with French culinary standards, it's hard to know if the veal was undercooked or if it was cooked exactly how a four-star French kitchen would cook veal. Of course in both cases we are not told the nature of the over- and under-cooking. Was the veal ordered well done and cooked to medium well? Or was it ordered medium-rare but cooked rare? No, it's not necessary for a reviewer to enumerate this kind of information in every instance, but when a novice reviewer is taking a star away from the world's preeminent chef-restaurateur, it makes sense to be as reliable as possible when making your claims. I'm also not particularly likely to buy into the complaint about the sea bream. Again, this could easily be a question of misapplied standards -- the classical preparation of many fin fish requires cooking them through. The two pasta complaints are so non-specific they're hard to get a hold of. I suppose either the two dishes didn't have enough flavor, or they were too subtle for the reviewer. Given the poor quality of his body of work, I lean towards the latter. It's also curious that no visits were made to Ducasse's European properties, particularly ADPA. One would think, if the Per Se review deserved a visit to French Laundry, that the ADNY review deserved a visit to ADPA. There are no excuses for over- or under-cooking food at the four-star level. There are not even any good excuses for making a single error in food preparation. Nonetheless, it happens at every restaurant -- I would be shocked if it didn't happen at Per Se and Masa, though less shocked to learn that the reviewer didn't have the perspective to detect it. Given that reality -- a reality for which there are no excuses but that is, nonetheless, reality -- the question for any critic becomes how to place the defects in an appropriate context. I think Frank Bruni has failed to do that with respect to ADNY, in part because his issues with respect to vanity and luxury have predisposed him to dock the restaurant a star for minor imperfections, in part because he may not have the perspective needed to know what standards to apply to the food at a Michelin three-star-type restaurant, in part because he can't gain critical distance, and in part because he doesn't see the big picture with respect to where ADNY fits in to the US and global restaurant scenes. In the end, he has given three stars to what is either the best or one of the handful of best restaurants in the country, to the restaurant that sets such a high standard for luxury cuisine and service that the chefs at the other French four-star restaurants can't even conceive of competing with it, and to the one most likely to be able to gain three Michelin stars were it transported to Europe tomorrow.