mamster

Okay, I was exaggerating, and I enjoy pounding, too (although my downstairs neighbors don't). I think the US edition must be different, since the front isn't pink, for one thing. I think I may be overreacting to the atrocious design of this book, and I might be more inclined to cook from it if it looked nicer. It did inspire several recipes for my mystery basket entry, and they were very successful, which hints that as I use it more, Thai Food may well grow on me. This reminds me of a sausage-related question I had, but I'll ask on Cooking.

You pampered bastards. Miss J, once in a while I've made a chile paste that was as good or better than commercial, but I think there's a lot of reflexive dissing of commercial curry paste purely because it's a processed commercial product. I think the better canned curry paste (such as Mae Ploy) is akin to Jif peanut butter: so good, there's rarely a reason to bother making your own. And I often hear people gushing about the curry at this Thai place or that, and I know they're using curry paste from a tub. One thing I neglected to mention in the article (which, I must admit, is a rerun from a couple years ago) is that you can "freshen up" commercial paste by pounding in some fresh ingredients--garlic, shallots, chiles, whatever you have on hand. And I've found that the more unusual the curry, the less well you're going to be served by commercial paste. The basic red, green, and panang are my standbys, but I've been unhappy with massaman, gaeng som, and gaeng pa pastes, and must reluctantly conclude that these need to be made at home. In the case of gaeng som (sour curry) paste, at least, that's quite easy.

John Thorne reviews in the book in the current issue of Saveur. He says about what I said: it's a great read, totally uncompromising on ingredients and techniques, and therefore really hard to cook from. What he doesn't mention is that physically, it's a piece of junk: bad design, bad construction, bad photos. I still think everyone who's serious about Thai food has to own this book, but I can't get as excited about it as other people.

In the words of Homer Simpson, "You'd think so...but no."

Wasn't me talking up St. Clouds, since I've never been there. I do like the eatery; the only times I've been there it was on review meals (it's not exactly conveniently located for us), but I was impressed with the menu. I had a flank steak entree that was awesome--cooked perfectly, loaded with flavor. The pizza and burgers weren't as good as the other entrees, I thought.

I ate some of nightscotsman's canneles--in fact, I just had one for breakfast--and they're amazing. I've never had one before, and they're unlike any other food. Thanks everyone for teaching him how to make them. Chocolate and rum next?

The Seattle P-I gives separate ratings for food, service, and ambience. Is that a step in the right direction or wrong?

I chop, blanch, and mix with ground pork and stuff potstickers.

Wilfrid, your logic is impeccable and your knowledge of British cheeses equally so. I love cheshire--I think Appleby's Cheshire was probably the first Neal's Yard import I had, at a Murray's-supplied tasting at Astor Wines & Spirits. I haven't seen the Isle of Mull cheddar in Seattle, but I'll be sure to ask at my local cheese counter. Generally I only buy these cheeses (I should have mentioned this in the article) when I see them opening a new round at Whole Foods, which is where I buy most of my cheese. They tend to open one, cut it into 4 to 8 oz chunks, wrap them in plastic, and let them sit until they all sell. A piece of cheese like that could turn you back to Kraft Singles, even though their turnover is fairly good. That's true. Maybe you fully believe you are still correct and therefore it isn't lying. What do you call that? Actually, I feel like you let me off easy, Wilfrid. I was honestly afraid that English readers would see this as the cheese equivalent of, say, praising All Bar One.

Thanks for the info, RandyB. Every time I think I'm starting to understand something, like plain chocolate, for god's sake, it turns out there are twelve more layers to peel back. On the whole, that's positive.

Liza, I understand that no risk is preferable to small risk, but what we're talking here is a risk so small that if you enjoy these cheeses, there is no reason to avoid them other than superstition. All of the cheeses I mention in my article have been aged longer than six months and are absolutely loaded with lactic acid, creating an environment extremely hostile to pathogenic bacteria. It is considerably more likely that you will pick up a bug (like the dreaded Listeria) from pasteurized cheese than from one of these aged raw-milk cheeses (a category that also includes Parmigiano-Reggiano). As for the young, soft raw-milk cheeses, I still think they're safe, but not as unambiguously safe as the hard cheeses. That said, most of the recent cheese-related cases of listeriosis in France were associated with pasteurized-milk Epoisses. Note: If you punch "listeria farmhouse cheddar" in to Google, the first hit is an article by Steven Shaw. Suzanne, I agree that vegan cooking can be great, too. Especially Chinese vegetarian cooking. What bothers me about Roxanne's is more the lying and posturing than the actual cooking. As much as I enjoyed writing my column, I think Julie Powell of the Julie-Julia Project covered the gist in much more concise form: Two things strike me about this unfathomably ignorant trend. The first is, how male it is somehow, how Fast and Furious. "You're a vegan. Big fucking deal -- I don't heat my food. Take that!" And wow, the power of self-righteousness. The guy says he's never felt so good -- well, yeah, because nothing feels better than being better than everybody else. And the third thing is -- yeah, I decided I had three points -- My God, how sad. There is precious little comfort in this world. Why take food, one of the very few simple comforts, and turn it into an obstacle? Why rob yourself of one of the few honest pleasures you'll ever know?

That's great, nightscotsman. I've never been to Tango, partly because it gets mixed reviews, and mostly because it's in exactly the wrong place for me: too far to be an impulse buy, too close to be a special trip. Now I'll definitely go.

You make your own farmhouse cheddar? Maybe Kirkland is better than I thought. Another good reason to make fake cheese is that you are a robot sent from a distant, evil planet to make humanity your slaves. I'm not naming names here, just saying, that's a good reason.

Whole Foods.

They serve fake cheese when there is good, raw, real cheese to be had. edit: posted at the same time as FG

Can you tell us about the food, boris?

Lora Brody's book Slow Cooker Cooking has recipes that would pass "gourmet" muster.

It's right here. This one is over, but don't worry--it'll happen again.

I'm too lazy to make an exact count, but 225 is pretty close. Many are hand-me-downs from the internationally renowned heyjude collection.

Yes, you win. Some nice men will be coming over later to bring you your prize, which involves an exciting new jacket.

Mmm...succulent mortgages!

Great, I'll ask nightscotsman.

My cousin has this great apartment in Greenpoint, Brooklyn, which I believe the UN considers the capital of Poland. We used to have dinner at this restaurant across the street; Eric Asimov (or maybe Sam Sifton) reviewed it not too long ago. You could get a full meal with wienerschnitzel and beets and this awful fruit drink that I'm pretty sure was unset Jell-O for about $4. That and KK's are all I know about Polish cuisine, unfortunately.

I've had the basic 72% Cluizel (and also the 85%) and it's great. This seems like as good a reason as any to move to Paris.

Laurie brought me a gift from Portland: a bar of 2002 Valrhona Gran Couva single-estate chocolate, which she bought at Pastaworks. The chocolate is from Trinidad. It's a 62% bar, which is not my top choice (around 70 is perfect). It's the kind of stuff Shaw was writing about in last month's Elle. Is there any place in Seattle that sells this sort of thing? Laurie said there were two other varieties at Pastworks. The best selection of vintage chocolate I've seen is at the Bon Marche in Paris, which is less than convenient. Help me become a chocolate nerd.