mamster

One bizarre new addition to the ice cream scene is Ron & Jerry's. The Baskin-Robbins on Broadway unexpectedly unfurled a new sign a few weeks ago and the kids working the counter (who were the same kids working the counter at B&R) had no idea what was up. R&J's serves mostly Dreyer's (Edy's to you easterners), which is boring; Starbucks, which I love; and Leppert's Hawaiian ice cream, which I haven't tried yet but my friends who've spent time in Hawaii tell me the stuff reminds them of the islands. As far as I know, the Ben & Jerry's up the street hasn't sued yet. Frankly, though, I've only rarely had ice cream at a restaurant or shop that was better than the premium pints.

I'm far from a soy sauce expert, but I will venture a recommendation. The best brand I've found of what is usually referred to as "light soy sauce"--that is, Kikkoman-style without molasses--is Dragonfly, from Thailand. It's not easy to find, but I'm sure it's widely available in New York's Chinatown, at the very least. It has no particular standout quality, but it's round and not overly salty.

There's a great recipe for pomelo salad in Hot Sour Salty Sweet. "Yam" is an acceptable romanization; there is no standard way of romanizing the Thai alphabet, so you'll see Thai words get anglicized to all sorts of things. As you might expect, the Thai word is pronounced somewhere between "yahm" and "yum". Tom yum, incidentally, means "salad soup".

Ever since reading Shaw's ultimate braising article, I've made short ribs occasionally when the urge has struck, and they've always been great. However, I have no vent fan and my stove doesn't produce massive heat, so I've had to brown them in batches and end up smelling like a steakhouse kitchen. Then I read a suggestion in Cook's Illustrated (not a recent issue, but I was flipping through back issues) to brown the short ribs in a 450 degree oven for 45 minutes. Not only were these mess-free (I just had to clean one roasting pan, instead of every surface in the kitchen), but they were deeply and evenly browned and ended up being by far the best I've ever made. By all means, try it. This hasn't made me stop wishing for a vent fan, though.

I can do chicken and steak by touch. For fish you can often peer between the flakes. I often make these great chicken meatballs, and for those I am just paranoid enough to break out the digital instant-read.

You probably knew this, but "meung thai" is Thai for "Thailand". I definitely need to hit Sripraphai next time I'm in NYC. Although I'm going to be in Thailand before that, so maybe it's a moot point. The fluffy catfish was easier to make at home than I expected.

That's weird that you should say that about dill, Andy, because I feel the same way. I hate dill more than any other flavor. There are certain ingredients I'm tolerant but not actively fond of, but the slightest bit of dill makes me actively gag. I believe I remember reading somewhere that Jean-Georges doesn't like dill either. He didn't denounce it in the same way I just did, but it was about the first time I've ever heard a well-known chef admit he didn't like something unless he was making a point about McDonald's or similar. It seems so innocuous, and I like all of the other major herbs just fine. I've tried to get over my aversion, so far to no avail. Does dill contain some compound found nowhere else or something?

Shrimp paste comes immediately to mind. It smells like fish sauce times twelve. My wife won't let me keep the stuff in the house, and I can't blame her. I love what it does to curry pastes, marinades, and so on.

Sure, I love yums and laaps, and I often make them at home. They're easy and, as you know, incredibly delicious. My favorite part is the making and tasting of the dressing. I probably taste far more often than is necessary, just because that combination of fish sauce, chiles, garlic, and lime juice is about my favorite taste ever. I can't remember the name in Thai, but probably my favorite yum is "fluffy catfish" with flaked and fried catfish and green mango. There's a recipe in Dancing Shrimp that came out very similar to what I ate in Bangkok.

Hey, I knew I wanted to post something to this thread. Every time the NYT publishes something that mentions street food (I remember one recently about Mexico City and one about China) they get a nasty letter from somebody who seems convinced that if you eat street food you will immediately die from multiple pathogens. Why the Times keeps printing these letters I don't know; at least they continue to recommend street food. I really wish there were a way to get accurate data on the risk of a serious illness or death resulting from the street food of various cities, because then you could compare it to the risk of a major casualty during a short car trip in the concerned letter-writer's hometown. I'll bet the comparison would be illuminating. Obligatory link to my Bangkok street food article, which I'm proud to note includes a couple of things that I've never seen mentioned elsewhere. I didn't make them up.

Yes, the sweetness of chocolate is purely to do with the percentage sugar. However, not all brands are available in a reasonable range of percentages. And the problem with sugar in general is that it can be used to cover up flaws in the product. I will gladly eat Valrhona or Scharffen-Berger 70% straight, but if Hershey's made a 70% bar, it would be just as bad as a regular Hershey bar. I keep forgetting to mention El Rey. I haven't bought any in a while since Scharf is available in more convenient sizes for baking and Valrhona is available cheap at Trader Joe's, but the El Rey chocolate is an unusual product that plays up some of the fruity tastes in chocolate that other manufacturers play down. It's not better so much as different, but I have a powerful craving for El Rey from time to time.

Yesterday I turned on an infomercial and watched a woman make a cake that (a) was steamed on the stovetop, and (b) had diet coke in it. In fact, the topping for the cake consisted of canned cherry pie filling and diet coke. Because, you know, cherry pie filling isn't sweet enough right out of the can. There was also diet coke in the batter. On the other hand, this weekend I made a chocolate polenta cake. I used Scharffen-Berger 70%. It was aces. And I didn't even have to buy a weird infomercial device.

Okay, the deep-fried bread variation sounds good to me. Hook me up with some of that when I make it to Japan.

This is maybe drifting off-topic into the whole chef-cookbook debate, but has anyone ever cooked anything from the China Moon cookbook? Everything in it sounds like it would be (a) delicious, and (b) weeks of work, especially if you make all of her broths and sauces. There was one recipe with over fifty ingredients. Just curious.

I've tried the Steingarten recipe, which I think he attributes to Robuchon but without much documentation, and wasn't too happy. They were okay, but they came out like fries come out when you try to shortcut the process by not double-frying, which is in fact what I did. As far as reusing oil goes, in principle it's a good idea--Russ Parsons's new book talks in some detail about why slightly used oil makes the best fry. However, oil used in professional deep-friers generally contains silicone, which rises to the top and makes a protective seal against the air and therefore against oxidation. If you reuse oil at home, strain it well and keep it in an airtight container in a cool, dark cupboard or the fridge. Come to think of it, I'm not sure quite how widespread the silicone-mix oil is. Hey, Shaw, what kind of oil do they fry in at Gramercy? Does it have silicone, or is that more a chain fry-pit thing? Best thing I've fried recently was sweet onion fritters from David Waltuck's book. It's a good book in general, even if it's clearly not all "staff meals," and those onion fritters with the tamarind dipping sauce totally made my day. They're svelte cousin of onion rings. Oh, and the Chinese skimmer is the greatest thing ever. (Edited by mamster at 11:16 pm on Aug. 21, 2001)

Bon, it depends what you mean by curry. "Curry" generally meaning a thick, spicy meat or vegetable stew served over rice is popular most everywhere, including in the US. But there are many types of curry, with the Indian (based on a ground spice mixture or paste) probably the most popular in North America, maybe with Thai (based on a paste pounded from mostly fresh ingredients) coming in second. I never met a curry I didn't like, and the Thai red is my favorite. What is curry in Japan like? I've had curries at Japanese-American restaurants that seemed like simplified Indian curry, but I'm guessing there's more diversity in Japan itself. The best book I've found on the general subject of curry is A World of Curries by Dave DeWitt. It's out of print but easy to find.

Ooh, let me second the rec of Noodle. I think Durack is a restaurant critic and travel writer rather than a chef per se, and that helps to keep the book practical, at least if you live near an Asian market. When I was last in London I was looking at another Durack book called Yum, kind of a gastrotourist journal that looked entertaining. Of course it's unavailable in the US. Sigh.

Neil, I assume you know that pasta primavera was invented at Le Cirque. Given the choice, if I am paying, I will always try a new cheap restaurant over a new expensive restaurant unless I have a good reason to believe that the expensive restaurant is unusually good. On the other hand, there is something I like about the experience you get at a really fine restaurant, where the food is inventive yet familiar and the service prompt but not obsequious, and you get a chance to try some things you can't get anywhere else. Psychologically speaking, it combines the best features of a regressive and an exploratory experience: these people are charged with taking total care of me for a couple hours while I branch out and enjoy some new and interesting food. Obviously this doesn't matter if the food isn't great. I think most ษ entree places are as you said: not at all bad, but not worth ษ when you can get phad thai for Ů. But at my favorite fancy restaurants (La Cote Basque comes to mind), the food kind of pops in your mouth: you take a bite and say, wow, that is the most asparagusy asparagus I ever tasted, or, my god, how did they get the fish so crisp and yet so light? It's a particular kind of cooking associated with trained chefs. It's not inherently better than the down-home cooking we both prefer most of the time, but it is different and is worth seeking out some of the time. I haven't tried many expensive restaurants in Seattle, but those I have tried have been almost uniformly disappointing. Chefs here seem to be aiming at what people have read about in Gourmet and simply not hitting it most of the time. I dunno if I answered any of your question, but the revolution comes, instead putting me up against the wall, can I be put in the stocks in the village square? I'm thinking a light fish stock.

I love Japanese ramen, BON, so that just might be the ticket. Although then when friends ask me, "What did you eat in Taiwan?" I'll have to answer, "Ramen."

Wow. I don't think I'm going to make it to the 贄 soup, but it sure sounds amazing. Now as it turns out I'm only going to be in Taipei for a night, but I'm going to pass on all of your recommendations to my friends who are going to be there longer. Thanks! Feel free to pick my brain for Bangkok recs should it come up.