Fat Guy

I think you've successfully pointed us towards a definition of one type of four-star restaurant. It's a very modern definition (to frame it in the historical context, we are not all that far into the era where all restaurants were measured by the Escoffier yardstick and The Four Seasons seemed radical). So I'm not sure I agree that all four-star restaurants need to conform to that definition. I do think there's a place (and ample historical precedent) for four-star restaurants that don't do much in the way of innovation but, rather, focus on luxury and refinement. It has to be luxury done just so, not simply popping open tins of caviar and shaving white truffles on everything. But I think a luxurious enough restaurant serving more or less classic cuisine at the highest possible level deserves four stars. Just as the Michelin system recognizes both innovative restaurants and high-performing classic restaurants, the Times system should have room for both.

From the reports I've been hearing -- and I'm hardly as plugged into this network as the average publicist or restaurant manager around town would be -- Frank Bruni has been seen multiple times at Bouley and at Per Se (and once at French Laundry) in the past few weeks. So I think we will be getting some more data points from him soon. Really, I think, the only way either of those restaurants gets 3 stars is on an "unrealized potential due to inconsistency" basis -- they are clearly four-star restaurants at the core, but if Frank Bruni has enough unimpressive experiences at either then he will have little choice but to knock off a star and check back in a year. As far as the Tasting Room et al. are concerned -- and I hasten to add that, as a high-school classmate of Renee I come by my crush honestly and outrank you all -- I fundamentally disagree that most of these restaurants are serving four-star food, ever. Danube, maybe. Atelier, maybe. But the Tasting Room is not about four-star food. It's about delicious food created under adverse conditions, in a tiny kitchen, at a low price point, by a couple of overstretched cooks. I'm sure Colin Alevras would be the first person to say he's not cooking four-star food. He may very well have the talent to make four-star food, if given sufficient kitchen, staffing, access to luxury ingredients, etc., but that doesn't make the food at the Tasting Room four star food. Cafe Boulud is a fantastic restaurant, and Andrew is capable on any given day of putting out a haute cuisine tasting menu that is fully the equal of the best Daniel has to offer (or maybe even better) but Cafe Boulud day-to-day does not trade in four-star cuisine -- it trades in upscale bistro cuisine. Although New York is not France and our concepts of haute cuisine are not as restrictive as the French system of culinary taxonomy, there is still a widely recognized and sensible (I think) difference between delicious food and four-star food. There is a level of refinement and complexity (or a certain kind of elegant minimalism) that needs to be present for food to cross the threshold from delicious to four-star.

I think it's important to distinguish between favorite and best. The Tasting Room is one of my favorite restaurants. On any given night, even given infinite financial resources, I might choose it over any of the four-stars. But that doesn't make it a four-star restaurant or even one of the best restaurants in New York. It happens to be a very special, loveable place with terrific food -- and who doesn't have a crush on both Renee and Colin? But four stars? I just can't see the argument.

I think the current list of four-star restaurants is a good one. I wish some of the restaurants holding four stars -- especially Bouley and Daniel, which I'd say would be the most vulnerable to losing a star on re-review if it happened today -- would strive for more consistency and learn to view their stars as a responsibility and a matter of public trust, but I think the best restaurants in New York are currently holding four-star ratings. Obviously Per Se needs to be added to the four-star club, with the open question being whether it gets four stars now or whether it gets three stars up front and four stars upon re-review in a year. With a very few exceptions that have mostly to do with timing or agendas (Chanterelle held onto four stars too long; it took too long to award four stars to ADNY), the four-star category has never been all that problematic -- it's a fairly straightforward matter to determine who's at the top. The only major screwup I remember in the past several years was the failure to give Cello four stars. The real problems, though, are in the 1, 2 & 3 star categories, which are currently a disastrous mishmash.

The metal plate on the side of the island suite looks like it bears the Bonnet insignia. It seems most restaurants that are striving to have top-level showcase kitchens are using Bonnet or Molteni island suites.

Not so off-the-wall, Robert. There have been rumblings for several weeks now, since not long after his departure from Mix, that Doug Psaltis would be going to work at French Laundry under Thomas Keller. It makes sense: Doug is arguably the most qualified available American chef for work in a perfectionist kitchen at this level, given his extensive training under Ducasse and Bouley and the raves he garnered at Mix, from those with taste and discernment at least. Doug has not wanted to draw attention to himself, and asked that no rumors be published here until there was an official decision. In any event, there has now been an official decision and Doug is working at French Laundry. He wants to keep this low key and keep the spotlight off himself, so I hope we can all respect those wishes to the extent they seem reasonable. I hope I speak for all of Doug's fans in New York in wishing him the best of luck at French Laundry. This is all the information I have at this time. Thanks.

When these guys set up camp in New York and cut like a million portions of brisket by hand every day, what stupid excuse will all the delis who slice their pastrami and corned beef on machines use? They won't be able to say "Oh, only Katz's can afford to do that." Really, it's hardly all that labor intensive. What were they cranking out 5,000 portions of brisket each day at the BABBP with something like 3 gentiles doing the cutting?

The Post story doesn't seem to mention brisket as one of the items on offer; I assume that's an oversight?

Interesting that Paul Kirk's forthcoming barbecue place in New York will, according to the New York Post, offer, in addition to the expected Southern barbecue items, pastrami and Asian-style smoked duck. To a working pitmaster, perhaps these items seem more like barbecue than they do to the writers.

Pedro, yes, he does have such a facility. It's called the ADF, Alain Ducasse Formation, described on the ad-formation.com site as the "laboratoire de réflexion culinaire d'Alain Ducasse." It's not identical to Adria's taller, because Ducasse's whole organization is so different. There is a laboratory aspect, a training facility aspect, and a public education aspect, but Ducasse's empire is decentralized and a lot of the invention and training go on in the provinces and in the active restaurant kitchens. But the ADF is also an important part of the whole. Boris, I'm probably not disagreeing with you -- the art/not-art issue may be more a question of semantics than anything else. I'll go with your word-choice of "function and aesthetics" and just say that it is Ducasse's extremely high-level and refined ideas in this regard that I find impressive. His range is also pretty amazing -- you have the Grand Livres on one the one hand, which seem to be the Guide Culinaire for today, and then you have this ultra-contemporary global cuisine vision of Spoon, where Ducasse is building a cuisine from a flavor palette that is largely divorced from the grand French tradition, although, of course, Ducasse's approach to everything is unmistakeably French.

I actually developed a really strong craving for more and more meat. In deciding where to go out to dinner on Monday night I kept thinking, "You know, maybe I should go to Blue Smoke . . ." It was crazy. I still am craving meat. I'm thinking about steak tonight.

Pedro, I don't mean to say I'm solely impressed with the labor intensive nature of the cuisine. If it's bad, I don't care how much work goes into it -- I won't be impressed. Likewise, I can be impressed by elegant minimalism. Still, there is a kind of virtuosity here that I find inspiring. Mostly, though, I'm reacting to the depth of thought that has clearly gone into this cuisine. Most restaurants aren't serving cuisine with much intellectual weight behind it, and I think that's one of many things that separates good craftsmanship from what could arguably be called art.

I don't think of the butter used to grease popover tins as an ingredient as such. The popover sequence is that you preheat the tins, then brush with butter or shortening, then add batter, then bake. With Yorkshire pudding, you put fat into the tins, then you heat them so the fat is good and hot, then you add the batter, and then you bake. I think you also use more fat, of a more concentrated essence -- it is a major flavor component of Yorkshire pudding as opposed to mostly a lubricant for popovers.

My appreciation grows with every page. Immersing myself in the printed material adds another dimension to my respect for what Ducasse offers to contemporary gastronomy as well as his place in the history of it. It also helps me to understand the prices at his restaurants: by the time I make some of this stuff I'm sure I'll be begging just to pay a few Euros for a plate of it prepared by a Ducasse-trained cook. As you mention, the syrups and essences are part of a toolkit. There's definitely a reason the syrups and essences are on pages 434, 437, and 436: they are at the back of the book in a section of basic (albeit not exactly simple) flavor components that Ducasse integrates into scores of recipes throughout the book and presumably the Spoon empire. These are the building blocks of this cuisine -- not stocks and reductions of stock, which show up only here and there. The reason the recipes seem so daunting to me as a home cook -- even setting aside some of the advanced technique -- is that the home just isn't organized around production. Were I a restaurant, I would make every one of the base elements from the back of the book on a rotating schedule so I always had a pan of each in the walk-in and a 1/6-pan of them on my station. Then I'd be ready to make all the condiments with some efficiency. Then, armed with the 75 condiments in the entry-level Spoon repertoire plus about $150 thousand worth of sous vide and other equipment, I'd be ready to cook the actual dishes.

In my experience the crust at Otto has been soft and pliable. I've heard many people say it's cracker-like. I've never experienced that and I've now been there quite a few times. Perhaps this photo from GordonCooks is more illustrative: Or this one from Marlene: I haven't been to Italy at all since I was a kid, at which time I made I think three trips and visited the key cities. I barely remember Naples, but somewhat remember Neapolitan style pizza here and there. I've had some in France as well, and of course there's the certified La Pizza Fresca here in New York made to spec with all imported ingredients. So I'm by no means expert or even legitimately familiar with actual pizza in Naples. At the same time, this is largely a technical question that can be addressed by reference to common standards. I'll try to get some La Pizza Fresca and Serafina photos to match up to these as well. Maybe someone can grab some shots in the South of France one of these days as well.

So today I decided to read through the whole section on condiments and choose one of the simpler recipes, from which I would derive a shopping list perhaps to be filled this weekend . . . and eventually I would prepare the condiment -- just the condiment, mind you, and not any sort of actual dish -- and report back to you. This turned out to be not as easy as I had hoped. Here is a completely typical recipe from the condiments section, for Tomato Rougaille. It appeared only to have 8 ingredients, and relatively short instructions, and it also looked tasty. Great. So let's make our shopping list. Vine Tomatoes: 2 -- Okay, no problem. Check. Garlic: 1 clove -- Hey that's easy! Check. Bird Pepper: 1 -- Huh? Okay, I guess this requires a consultation with the ingredients guide at the back of the book. Is there an entry on the Bird Pepper? Yes. But it seems to be only in French. No, wait a second, after the guide in French the whole thing is repeated in English. So, Bird Pepper: "Also known as the 'Pili-Pili', 'Piri-Piri', 'Zozlo Pepper', or 'Pequin'. The red or green varieties of bird pepper are particularly strong." Okay, I guess I can find that at a store, somewhere in New York. And from the photo it's clear they're calling for a red one. Check. Tomato Concasse: 1 tbsp (see p. 434) -- Uh oh. This means that in order to make the recipe, I need to make a whole 'nother recipe and fold it in. Okay, I will look at page 434 later and see if the Tomato Concasse is within my abilities. It's not as though there are very many choices of recipes that don't contain one or more dependencies on other recipes in the book, and after all that's how real restaurant cooking works, so I'll deal with it. Lemon Essence: 1.8 oz (see p. 437) -- Oh shit, another dependency. Okay, I'll look at it later. Tomato Syrup: 4 tbsp (see p. 436) -- Come on, man. What do you want from my life? And really, most of the recipes are like this. Tabasco: 2 dashes -- Holy marmalade! I actually have this ingredient in my home! And once the Tabasco people get wind of the fact that Alain Ducasse cooks with Tabasco . . . well, I can already see the ad in Food Arts. Salt and Pepper -- Also something I can handle. Okay, let's go to pages 434, 437, and 436 and see what we're up against with the Tomato Concasse, Lemon Essence, and Tomato Syrup. The Tomato Concasse will be labor intensive but doable. It's tomatoes, olive oil, white onion, garlic, bouquet garni, powdered sugar, salt, and pepper. The technique is not complex, involving mostly peeling, seeding, and simmering. The Lemon Essence is also mostly a matter of mise en place: peeling, simmering, straining, etc. I can do that. Although, it's starting to look as though I will need an entire afternoon to make this one condiment. The Tomato Syrup is going to be a bit of a pain. There are a number of steps that will require some care, for example the deglazing of the sheet pan with tomato liquid after the tomatoes are roasted. But, again, I can do it. So I'll report back when I've actually made the recipe. But I hope this at least gives you an idea of the average level of complexity and refinement of just the condiments in your friendly neighborhood Spoon Cook Book.

We have so many helpful and illustrative pizza photos around the site, I hope someday somebody assembles them in a comparative fashion. Seeing these photos from Naples I'm again reminded that I'm the only person (even Mario Batali seems not to agree with me) who thinks the pizza at Otto in New York is very reminiscent of the Neapolitan style. Looking at one of Ellen's early photos: Well, we'd have to lift it up and photograph the bottom, and of course there's only so much you can tell without tasting, but Otto does have an alleged D.O.C. pizza on the menu. Someday when I get my private jet I'll research this more thoroughly.

In the meantime, businesses might consider making their own cases stronger by voluntarily adopting environmentally friendly technologies. In many cases, this kind of gesture has strong marketing benefits. The urban barbecuers have already figured out all the technology for having wood-fired pits with nearly zero exhaust. It's expensive to do it if you need to invent the technology and take the exhaust up 220 feet to clear the surrounding apartment buildings. But now that it has all been worked out, it can't be nearly as expensive or difficult to reproduce the essential elements in a rural or industrial area where you only need to go up 20 feet and you don't need to get anywhere near 100% efficacy. Ed Mitchell seems to have pulled it off in Wilson -- maybe some of the folks from Lexington should drive over and have a look at the hoods and filters he uses.

I don't think there is any duplication of photographs at all. The photos in the Spoon Food & Wine book are by Hartmut Kiefer, who did the Pierre Herme dessert book. The photos in Spoon Cook Book are by Thomas Duval, the fashion photographer. I'll investigate how much recipe overlap there is. It may take me awhile to acquire the additional books I'll need in order to make these comparisons, but we're planning on a long-lived thread here. I'll report back when I have clearer answers.

The difference being that, as far as I know, Yorkshire pudding almost always utilizes some sort of animal fat, either beef drippings, lard, or bacon fat, whereas American-style popovers are just flour, salt, eggs, and milk.

I'd be interested to learn how much actual output there is from a single barbecue establishment. Surely there's something you can clip onto a smokestack in order to determine this, and then you can multiply by 20. My guess is it's not all that significant, but if it is it should be easily remedied by the installation of filters, scrubbers, and whatnot. It will raise the cost of barbecue somewhat, and will be particularly burdensome on smaller operators, though, so given how important a cultural tradition is the local authorities should probably focus on other sources of pollution first.

Marcus, point of nomenclature: when you say "cherry tomatoes" what do you mean? Are you talking about the plum-shaped San Marzano tomatoes, or the smaller, spherical things we call cherry tomatoes here in the US?

Paul, I was under the impression that Spoon Cook Book is not an edition of Spoon Food & Wine but is, rather, a different book that has some recipe overlap. Spoon Food & Wine is a 216 page book photographed by Hartmut Kiefer. I'll see if I can get hold of a copy in order to evaluate the extent of repetition, if any, and I'll report back.

It certainly sounds as though the Minibar staff needs a refresher course in guest relations. Because they are going to get a lot of people going through there who have dined at El Bulli, Fat Duck, Trio, et al., and they need to be equipped to discuss those interdependencies. It would be neither possible nor desirable to separate the personal-interactive experience of Minibar from the culinary one. Indeed it is the personal-interactive element that is unique in this tiny subset of gastronomy, whereas the cuisine itself is part of an established style albeit one practiced by only a handful of people in any given nation -- I'd be interested to hear a worldwide head-count of chefs who are this far along the avant-garde curve; I suspect the number would be less than a dozen. While I think the style is certainly derivative, I also think that if you're part of this movement and you're not Ferran Adria then this can always be said of you. We have heard it incessantly about Heston Blumenthal, and I assume we'd hear it about Achatz if a higher percentage of his customers were within striking distance of Spain. Of course Jose and Kats come out of the El Bulli system so it's not as though they don't look to Adria for inspiration -- I'd actually say they think Adria is a god of sorts -- but "terribly derivative" strikes me as an overstatement, given that we can point to so many unique dishes and some unique methods. There's also an extent to which Minibar derives its uniqueness from its pace and price point -- nobody else is, as far as I know, making this sort of cuisine available in such an accessible format. That is very much a kind of innovation. In any event, Tarka, given the impossibility of separating the personal from the culinary in an environment like Minibar where the interaction is even more intimate than at any sushi bar I've visited, what did you think of the food?

I know that at Mitchell's they cooked 20 whole hogs -- 10 each day -- approximately 150 pounds each. According to Ed Mitchell the yield on a 150 pound hog is about 75 pounds of usable meat. They also cooked a couple of extra shoulders alongside each hog as an insurance policy, and as soon as they saw the crowds the first day they made the decision to mix in that meat, in order to augment the yield so as to be able to serve more people. In the end, over the two-day period, they served something close to 10,000 portions of approximately 3-4 ounces of meat each. As mentioned before, Mitchell's hogs came from a local supplier, I believe out of Hunt's Point in the Bronx, though in all likelihood the hogs themselves came from either the Midwest or the South. Ken Callaghan, the chef at Blue Smoke, placed the order with his butcher on Ed Mitchell's behalf based on Mitchell's specifications. I believe the budget for this event was essentially unlimited -- it wouldn't surprise me if the pigs Ken Callaghan bought for Ed Mitchell were more expensive and of better quality than what is typically used for barbecue in the South. New York is the best place in North America to buy meat if money is no object -- indeed it is one of the best places in the world. Blue Smoke in general uses very high quality meats -- they used to use 100% Niman Ranch but have since shifted to a variety of boutique suppliers.