Fat Guy

Better late than never, the piece is now online at NYTimes.com: http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html...753C1A9629C8B63

Wow!!!!!!! Incredible placement and an incredible story. The Washington Post has been great to eGullet and Monica is its new star. Excellent.

Some would say the European attitude towards genetically modified foods is the hysterical one, but regardless of the merits of that claim it does underscore a point: Pollan wrote a nice article but it is unbalanced. It emphasizes a fictitious contrast between alleged American food insanity and alleged European food sanity. Having written about such matters for years -- my first article on Paul Rozin's work was published on Salon.com in 1999 -- I think the evidence is strong that Europeans are less obsessed with fat as such than Americans. And there are a number of American food fears that Europeans on the whole reject. At the same time, Europeans have food fears that Americans reject. The litany of crazy mystical European beliefs about food is just as embarrassing as the American list, it's just different. To go to the crux of Pollan's article, which focuses on Atkins, the French have their own derivative of that diet, called the Montignac Method -- we've been discussing it on eGullet for ages. Anybody who thinks they don't have fad diets in Europe hasn't been paying much attention to fad diets in Europe. Pollan's essay is, however, an important step forward for the New York Times. Two years ago the Times finally caught up with the reality that Atkins was the dominant dietary trend of this era, and now the Times is finally realizing that Americans are food-phobic. Yet Pollan bizarrely claims, in Sunday's article, that the Johnny-come-lately recognition of Atkins's importance by the Times represented the beginning of a trend, rather than recognition of one. He writes, "it was an article in this magazine two years ago that almost singlehandedly ushered in today's carbophobia." That's one of the sloppiest claims I've ever seen from Pollan, who is usually known for careful research and presentation of facts despite his political agendas. That indefensible statement combined with the recycling of Rozin and a generally loose train of thought indicates to me that Pollan's heart wasn't in this piece -- indeed most of the articles in this grandiose and self-important Sunday Times Magazine food package felt that way to me.

That's the whole point of what so many critics of Zagat have pointed out, and which William Grimes labeled "The Zagat Effect." The enthusiasm is persistent because, as Grimes summarized, once a restaurant gets a good rating, “diners flock to it . . . and, convinced that they are eating at a top-flight establishment, cannot bring themselves to believe otherwise.”

This discussion of the influence of New Orleans cuisine inspired me to visit the relatively new (opened Mardi Gras '04) Jacques-Imo's New York last night. There's a discussion of Jacques-Imo's New York in the New York forum, and my comments are at the end. Throughout the meal, davebr's comments echoed in my head: "New Orleans is a fun and relaxed place and the cuisine reflects that."

I had a fine meal at Jacques-Imo's last night. It seems to me the restaurant is accomplishing what it set out to do. With the Jacques-Imo's brand as a marketing tool, it would have been possible to open Jacques-Imo's New York as a New Orleans theme restaurant in Times Square or on 57th Street. But that wouldn't have been in keeping with the spirit of the place. Creating Jacques-Imo's New York as a neighborhood restaurant in a residential area of the city helps capture a sense of community bonhomie that feels right for the style of food and the whole sense of the place. It feels honest. It was to be expected that a gaggle of media and curiosity-seekers would descend upon the place early, but now Jacques-Imo's has settled into a groove. Most of the people in there are probably local, they're there just to have a good time, and the main attraction isn't cuisine meant to be analyzed by gourmets but, rather, lusty Cajun-Creole flavors presented with contagious enthusiasm and a certain degree of self-satire. There were some real highlights. The garlic-laced corn muffins are emblematic of the joint. They're one of the best breadbasket items I've ever had, anywhere, including restaurants with a whole lot of stars, and yet they wouldn't feel right in an haute cuisine restaurant. The rules for haute cuisine have relaxed in recent decades, but they still probably wouldn't accommodate corn muffins heavy on the garlic. Likewise, I don't know of a better specimen of fried chicken being served in a New York restaurant – mine was right up there with the best I've tried around town. Something may strike you as similar about the two best dishes I had at Jacques-Imo's: they're not particularly indicative of New Orleans, but are more generally Southern in feel. The other best thing I tried -- the fried green tomatoes -- followed the same pattern. The actual Cajun-Creole items I tried -- such as the jambalaya, the maque choux, and the gumbo -- were tasty enough but hardly inspiring. The poor spinach salad that comes with every meal is inexplicable. The one dessert I tried -- the bread pudding -- was about as weak as it could have been. Should it have been reviewed by the New York Times? The more appropriate move, I think, would have been to cover it in the “Diner's Journal.”

Remember, when it came time to replace William Grimes, the first four people they offered the job to said no. Perhaps, then, the ideal isn't even a relevant question. The question may be what's the best they can do, given that nobody who is even close to ideal wants the job.

Before the sommelier, Alexander Adlgasser, was at Danube (and several other places) he was at Lespinasse under Kunz. In addition to Alex's presence, there are a number of instances of overlap between Cafe Gray and Lespinasse: a few dishes, the pastry chef Chris Broberg, a number of other staff, and of course Gray Kunz himself. Cafe Gray, however, is not Lespinasse. This will be Gray Kunz's major challenge as he fights to establish the market perception he needs in order for Cafe Gray to thrive. If you're going to Cafe Gray as a Lespinasse fan and hoping to witness the resurrection of Lespinasse, you're going to be disappointed. Were Lespinasse still open, this would be easy for people to accept: Cafe Gray would be the "second" restaurant, as Daniel has Cafe Boulud. You can go to Cafe Boulud and, with very precise navigation of the menu, you can get a meal that's similar to a Daniel tasting menu. You can do the same thing at Cafe Gray, or you can put together a menu of Lespinasse signatures. But that's not the restaurant's raison d'etre. Cafe Gray is a cafe. As a result of its cafe mission, most of the dishes on the Cafe Gray menu simply aren't intended to represent the same species of decadent luxuriousness and dizzying complexity that ran through most every dish on the Lespinasse menu. They are, rather, meant to represent upscale cafe food designed by Gray Kunz to be less luxurious and less complex than the Lespinasse dishes. This is a restaurant meant to be open for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, where you have a range of ordering options and where they turn tables and do volume. The challenge will, I think, manifest itself in a couple of ways. First, the prices are rather high. Gray Kunz has been gone from Lespinasse for half a decade, and in that time the bar has been raised on luxury restaurant prices by Ducasse and Keller. Were Lespinasse still operating under Kunz, chances are it would be significantly more expensive than it was. But those who remember Lespinasse remember what it cost then, and are comparing it to Cafe Gray now. By that yardstick, the more expensive of the Cafe Gray dinner dishes seem to be in the same price range as they'd have been at Lespinasse. So people have Lespinasse expectations, which can't be fulfilled at the majority of tables -- that's just not what the restaurant was designed to accomplish. Second, because Gray Kunz has no "first" restaurant in operation at this time, there is no restaurant against which to position Cafe Gray as a "second" restaurant. So there will be continuous pressure for Cafe Gray to service those who want to be eating at Gray Kunz's "first" restaurant. Some of that can be accommodated. But if that becomes the overwhelming customer priority, Cafe Gray won't be able to function as it was designed to function, as a higher-volume, lower-cost, simpler place than Lespinasse was. We'll talk more about the burning question of "how do I get the Lespinasse experience at Cafe Gray?" It can be done, and will become easier as time goes on and the code gets worked out. I'll try to stay on top of cracking that code, and will surely dine there a few times in the process. I'm sure the rest of us will have information to share in that regard as well. In the meantime, I would suggest getting to know Cafe Gray for what it is, not for what it isn't.

Dave, can you give us another measurement on that space where you're going to put the worktable, as compared to the size of the worktable?

Let's also not forget Craig Claiborne, who created the mold.

The Cajun-Creole influence can be felt all over the South, not just in New Orleans. If you go to restaurants in Charleston, Savannah, Biloxi, the Florida panhandle, or East Texas, you'll find plenty of the same flavors you'd expect to find at New Orleans restaurants. That's true at both the upscale and downscale places. Likewise, there is plenty of Southern cuisine influence to be found in New Orleans. So I think it's hard to escape the reality that the region is at least somewhat integrated from a cuisine standpoint. At the same time, I think it's easy to overstate the case for the global reach of Cajun-Creole cuisine as such. Yes there was once a short-lived Cajun-Creole fad that swept the nation and then mostly died out. But what about long-term? Take any Northern city -- New York, Chicago, Boston -- and you'll find about a hundred times as many Southern restaurants (barbecue, soul food, Southern fried chicken . . .) as you'll find Cajun-Creole restaurants, and you might not find a single serious haute cuisine Cajun-Creole restaurant in any of those places. Most likely if you experience Cajun-Creole flavors outside of the South it will be either at a restaurant that is more generally Southern (which suggests that Cajun-Creole cuisine is a subset of Southern cuisine) or in a normal restaurant where a few Cajun-Creole techniques (like blackened fish) have been picked up and incorporated into a menu that has many influences.

Would love to hear more about your meal, Robert.

I have a dinner there on something like November 1, so will report back then. In the past, I've had very good meals at City Hall. The burger, available only at lunchtime unless you make special arrangements, is one of the very best in town in my opinion -- they even make their own buns. Steaks are dry aged on premises and the meat is of top-notch quality, with the only problem being that the cuts are too thin -- this is something you can try to negotiate, though. I think the pan roasts are better than at the Grand Central Oyster Bar, and the menu is full of other small treasures. Love the space. Didn't know Henry Meer was embroiled in a controversy but must confess he's pretty cute.

I didn't have the chance to try it, but larb is definitely on the menu. Whether or not it plays to the strengths of the kitchen, I don't know. We asked one of the managers what to order, and got excellent advice. Whether or not you'd do as well with random ordering, I couldn't say.

I was but I am not what you'd call a "chilehead." I though the food was spicy enough that plenty of Westerners would probably think it's too spicy, but not extremely hot by any stretch of the imagination. The spicing felt balanced and correct to me.

Two people who eat like you, skinny bitch? In that case it would be half an appetizer for one. Two normal people? Sure, they could share it.

All this talk of who's obligated to do what and who's entitled to what makes me sad. But what makes me sadder is that this restaurant missed an opportunity to make a friend for life, and instead an evening was ruined. Regardless of the law, ethics, or anybody's sense of blame or responsibility, any restaurant above the level of a 7-11 should know that it's just good business to have managers whose immediate response to anything like this is to fix it. As far as I can tell, everybody on this thread who is actually in the restaurant business has said the same thing: offer to pay for the repair, end of story. That's the industry standard. It's not because restaurants have to do it -- I'm sure they'd be successful nine times out of ten in court on the "life is not fair" defense -- but this is the hospitality business, people. The way you earn repeat business is by being hospitable. Here, there was an opportunity to be hospitable and it was missed.

At long last, I have a little time to do some cooking. Not a lot of time, but enough to do one of these recipes. So, what's it going to be? I'm open to suggestions. Maybe several of us could do the same one and compare notes.

The "convection" designation is something of a misnomer, since convection occurs in all ovens simply by virtue of hot air rising. Likewise, there is no such thing as a uniform standard for convection ovens: some of them move the air a lot faster than others (the air speed difference between the puny little fan on the cheapest convection oven and a jet-engine-like professional product like the Turbochef C3 can be several hundred percent); they have varying airflow patterns; and some even have multiple settings for fan speed. The point being, only you can determine the necessary time and temperature adjustment for your oven, which will in turn vary with what you're cooking, which is in turn why recipes hardly ever give convection instructions unless they're professional baking recipes that assume professional restaurant deck convection ovens (usually electric) with dual-speed fans at 1/2-3/4 horsepower (your home convection fan is highly unlikely to have even 1/3 horsepower, and you probably won't even be able to find out its strength or speed). So, convection cooking is mostly for people who are willing to experiment and take the time to learn the properties of their ovens. It's well worth learning to do, though, because convection not only reduces cooking times but also creates superior crusts on roast meats, crispier cookies, and better almost anything else that's exposed to the air in the oven (as opposed to cooked in a covered vessel). Then again, every oven is different anyway. Even assuming proper calibration, they're all different. Adding convection to the mix increases the range of variation, but a smart cook will always learn the unique properties of his or her oven, including the hot and cold spots and the standard adjustments that need to be made from different types of recipes. Gas versus electric? I'd choose whichever is the cheaper fuel source in your area. For me, it's no contest: gas is included in my rent and gets billed to the apartment building (and therefore very close to free, aka the "tragedy of the commons") whereas electricity in New York City is ridiculously expensive and it gets billed individually to my apartment. If there is zero cost differential, I would lean slightly towards electric, but a high-quality oven of either stripe will work very well, and a good gas oven is better than a bad electric oven. Gas and electric broilers can both be excellent, though it's worth noting that most professional standalone ovens are electric whereas most professional standalone broilers are gas.

Good point, Richard. Please take the pegboard suggestion as my advocacy for any kind of system that gives you the ability to position a whole bunch of hooks on the wall and move them around as needed. I've seen at least half a dozen variants that are more attractive (and more expensive) than pegboard, although I'm not sure any of them actually work better than pegboard. The specific pegboard suggestion, however, came up because of the tool-case plan, which makes that area of the kitchen very shop-like already. I thought it might be a good aesthetic match, even though standing alone pegboard is kind of ugly. By the way you could paint the piece of pegboard red . . .

I'll be interested to hear your reactions, Michael, as well as those of anybody else who, unlike me, has actual knowledge of Thai food. My responses to the food were impressionistic and not calibrated to any master recipes or extensive knowledge of technique. But it tasted really good to me. I should add, I thought the spice levels were good. In other words, although nothing was extremely hot or overwhelming, they weren't dumbing down the spice levels for Western palates (not yet at least). They also offer three condiments: dried hot peppers, a hot pepper sauce, and something else I didn't taste, so you can certainly add heat. But for those who are into super-spicy food, you'll want to ask the kitchen for that adjustment.

Dave, are you proposing to hack out individual tiles and replace them? Maybe you have a great plan for how to do this but, having seen the collateral damage you can do to bathroom tiling when you try to remove and replace one tile, it's not something I'd ever attempt with kitchen tiles that will be in your line of sight. You know, if you have a steady hand, you can just paint a tile -- it works quite well for a few years so long as that tile isn't in the path of water or direct impact (like in the shower or on the floor). I've just been taking some measurements of how far different pots hang down assuming the pot rack is mounted flush with the ceiling. Here's what I think you can do given the ceiling height you have. I'm not sure the double-decker pot rack solution you've proposed is going to be sufficient. And for me, pot racks are totally essential as kitchen storage and organization tools -- I marvel at how many people do everything else right in their kitchens yet fail to have pot racks and therefore need to devote incredible quantities of drawer and cabinet space to pots and have to bend over and clank around every time they need to cook anything. So my suggestion is that you do three things: first, get one of the racks I'm talking about, mount it flush with the ceiling above your work table, and use it mostly for your smaller pots and essential utensils -- this is where you can keep your most heavily utilized items, the ones you need to be able to reach for without stepping away from the stove; second, install pegboard on the wall behind that workstation at the bottom-right of the diagram so you're not constantly opening and closing drawers every time you need basic tools and so that you can hang at least some of your lids (unfortunately you lost the ability to store lids above the pot rack when you mount it flush, but you can't afford six inches or even four, although with the chain mounting system you can always experiment and adjust later); third, install a pot bar -- a length of 1/4" pipe secured with straps along the entire length of the right-hand wall.

I'm not totally sure, Robert. Delouvrier and Ducasse will of course always emphasize the partnership if you ask them -- that's their selling proposition. And there's only so much I can determine forensically based on comparing my Delouvrier-era ADNY meals to meals at other Delouvrier and Ducasse restaurants. If we had Ducasse and some Chinese chef, it would be a lot easier to pick apart the elements and influences. But here we have two guys from the same area in France who came up through the Michelin three-star system and have a lot of overlap in their styles. If I had to make a claim, it would be that (aside from signatures like the rum baba) Delouvrier is originating the dishes but designing them within boundaries set by Ducasse, and incorporating certain key elements of Ducasse global methodology as taught at the ADF. This gives a more disciplined and delimited feeling to Delouvrier's plates than I've seen at his other restaurants, but also provides lustier and more rustic flavors than I've been accustomed to seeing at Ducasse's restaurants.

The Thai word "klong" does have a meaning, a nice one having to do with restful getaways by the water, but to those who don't know about that it's not a particularly appealing name for a restaurant. Please don't worry about the name, though. Klong is the most interesting and enjoyable new Thai place I can recall. Klong is at 7 St. Marks Place and last night it was happening. Probably 90% of the customers were hip, young Asians. I don't know how they heard about the place -- there must be some informational network I'm not a part of (what else is new?) because the only press I've seen on the place was the opening notice in Time Out. I only heard about it because my friend, a publicist (not the publicist for this restaurant, which I don't think has one), has a friend in the Thai consulate or tourism bureau or whatever who recommended the place so enthusiastically that we felt compelled to go immediately. It's very modern in there -- not at all the stereotypical kitschy Southeast Asian place of the Penang or Pongsri Thai variety. There's a lot of feng shui going on in there, with a wildly elaborate system of canals and such that I'm sure symbolize great luck and wealth. The chairs and general decor are sleek, which is part of a general trend we're seeing in the Korean and Southeast Asian places around town. I haven't pulled together any real information on the place. My understanding is that the chef grew up cooking on the streets of Bangkok and speaks no English. There seem to be several owners working the room very enthusiastically. Service is super-friendly though of course still breaking in. The flavors are amazing: the crispest, freshest, most intricately balanced I've had since I was in Singapore whenever that was, maybe 4 or 5 years ago now. I'm not going to pronounce the place better than Sripraphai based on one visit, but it's in that league in terms of proficiency albeit very different stylistically (more upscale in concept and presentation) and of course more expensive (though not very expensive at all). You can grab a .pdf menu at http://www.klongnyc.com/ and read through all the choices. We tried six items and batted a thousand. The green papaya salad was one of those singular palate awakeners, with a great balance of acid, sweet, spice, and crunch. Firecracker shrimp with plum dipping sauce were crispy and of very good quality (the proteins in general were of a higher caliber than those used at most Thai places). The tuna tartare, which seemed to have a bit of Japanese fusion influence, was one of the more interesting tuna tartare variations I've had: the tuna is ground, served on a crispy tortilla-like cracker, with wasabi, soy, and red onion. Terrific. Lamb pad ped with red chile paste, kaffir lime, and asparagus was one of the better Asian-restaurant lamb dishes I've had and the lamb was of respectable quality. Steamed shrimp in a clay pot with shiitake mushrooms and clear vermicelli was overwhelmed by the spicier dishes so I'd have changed the progression of the meal if I had it to do over again, but the dish was appealing in its subtlety and restraint. The highlight of the meal, however, was the tamarind whole fish, a deep-fried red snapper with super-crisp skin and a sweet-and-sour sauce with sweet peppers and basil.

Thanks for the thoughtful comments, Milla. Since your thoughts on ADNY are so much in line with my own, I'm wondering what you think of the relative attention being paid to Per Se and ADNY in the media, in the gourmet subculture, and on the eG Forums. I mean, as far as I can tell you and I are the only eGulleters who have dined at ADNY since Delouvrier came. We both think it's better than Per Se. And we have, what, a couple of pages on this thread? Meanwhile, over on the Per Se thread, we have a dozens-of-pages sustained outpouring of rave reviews. What's up with that? Do you have a theory?