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Lee Anne's blog is down but it was FANTASTIC. Hope it will be back up after the finale. She is one BitterBitch, and I mean that in the most complimentery sense. I just can't believe they filmed this thing over ten hours.

Turns out the reunion was a fun-fest that went on for TEN HOURS. They're lucky anyone was still conscious by the end. Loved that not a soul went to hold Tiffani's hair while she yarked. But I maintain that Dave, much as I want to be in his corner, is in fact Tiffani's bitch. Harold's going to win. He's already won...my heart. Sniff. Lee Anne, like her beloved pork, rules.

Everybody went through a training program geared toward their roles before filming; there are references to it throughout. The ranch hands, except for Robby, knew nothing about how to do their jobs before their training. Yet because they threw themselves into learning very hard work on the job, they managed to start the final cattle drive with 131 cattle and show up at the fort 50 miles away with 131 cattle. I was impressed. The women, on the other hand, had basically quit doing anything at this point; they're shown playing cards in their underwear while the flies gather and the garden goes to seed, for goodness' sake. Mrs. Cooke had managed to bake some good-looking pies when she felt like it, so she clearly knew how to cook. (Pastry with a wood-stove has got to be damn hard.) I started off feeling very sympathetic for the women, but did wonder after a while at something. The Cookes had 3 daughters aged 14 to 19. That's grown-up for the period in terms of chores. Yet they had the expense of a girl-of-all-work who was supposed to only help the family, while their financial situation was actually quite precarious. I would have thought with that much female labor available they would have been expected to earn a decent amount of money through the garden or sewing, or at least do all of the cooking and laundry for the ranch.

I watched the whole thing and ended up being appalled by the family. (I also read on another website that Nacho's cooking had been improving but he went way off on the Cookes, so much so that production made the call on firing though Mr. Cooke delivered the news on camera.) When the Comanche Chief came to trade with Mr. Cooke, they had a feast all planned. But the Chief wouldn't eat with them after his talk with Mr. Cooke. Turns out he thought Mr. Cooke was a dishonorable man. It all comes out at the table. All the ranch hands but Shaun lost weight and secret stashes of dried fruit, chocolates and such were found in the family's ranch house. They let the vegetable rot in the garden. Needless to say, the women didn't do any preserving, and though they had tons of goat milk, didn't make goat cheese to eat or sell, as many women at the time did. Melissa, the culinary historian, came by to help prepare for the fandango, and you could tell she was startled at the condition of the house and garden. Her reward for busting her butt cooking for 24 hours? The Cooke girls complained she left without cleaning up. Then they let the tubs of dirty dishes sit in summer heat for 8 days before they washed them. Really, it was disgusting at the end. The women let manure let lie near the house. Between that and the dirty dishes, that was why they had the fly infestation.

Whatever you do, I doubt you're going to suffer. I totally agree on Chez Panisse. Upstairs cafe or downstairs restaurant. If you're ok w/ leaving SF. Slanted Door might be okay for a sunset drink and a snack but it's food is so-so and the atmosphere seemed cold to me. Zuni...so ambivalent about this place. The space is utterly charming but the food and the service have been inconsistent to me. There's a fairly new, little place named Canteen that's gotten some strong praise. It's downtown SF. Everybody's mileage varies, of course. All of these places have more discussion about them on other threads, should you want more information.

My picks are: -Clementine -La Folie I like smaller, quieter restaurants that are really friendly. (I mean, in addition to great food, I'm not saying the service is making up for so-so food.) Incanto would be wonderful as well.

Hey! I just got a fax here at the office offering my organization the opportunity to have Tony Bourdain as a "sharp, edgy," speaker at one of our events! I wish....

I know it's nit-picky after the heroism shown in this episode but...where was the herring? I thought herring was a big thing. Or not. Just curious. Not sure why but that blood sausage being made in the Lavu freaked me out way more than the seal last week. Finally, with all due respect, that was crocheting, not knitting. The Martha Stewart Convention laid it out quite clearly: Swedes crochet, Norwegians knit, Danes embroider, and Fins tat.

I sure don't want to keep anybody from slapping his/her Momma but here goes. I never buy pork loin roasts anymore! I only buy fresh hams (if I need a LOT of pork) or shoulder blade roasts, bone-in or out. They're all a heck of a lot cheaper and the flavor, juiciness and tenderness are practically indestructable. And they yield lots of pan-drippings for gravy, my favorite beverage. All of these recipes sound mouth-watering and I suggest giving them a shot with one of these cuts instead of the loin.

I was watching America's Test Kitchen today, and they pre-cooked the apples a bit to get some of the juice out and keep the bottom crust crusty... ← Yes, I always pre-cook my apple pie filling and reduce the juice that cooks out, and I also use cornstarch (more thickening power). ← Mmm...pie. I usually love ATK recipes but have found that slicing the apples thin is preferable to pre-cooking. I always use a thickener, flour or cornstarch, with the sugar and salt. And momsf taught me that cinnamon and lemon juice add a great depth and complexity to most fruit pies. She also bakes pies on the bottom-most rack of the oven to help bake the bottom crust. Thank you for the kind words, Maggie. Beautiful photos, Marlene! Ingrid

What a great article. I was a bit envious because though I come from a family of good cooks and eaters, we didn't have this weekly ritual. (We also didn't go to church so there you go!) But. I think the tradition of gathering to eat together on Sundays is a strong one and will endure even if it changes form. For some reason and without effort, I end up having friends over for an early dinner on Sundays. Usually for something easy and cheap like a pork shoulder blade roast. Season it, throw it in the oven, and forget about it. It's definitely not like a "dinner party." If I had to come up with a quicky way to distinguish, I'd say, "Saturday night dinners are all about the sauces, and Sunday night dinners are all about the gravy." The idea that Sunday is the *start* of the week is still pinging around my brain. Brilliant!

When I wrote my post, I used words like "private homage." It's difficult to address criticism based on what I *didn't* write, such as "copied from," or what a reader decides was what I *really* meant. I didn't speak to Cunningham's body of work; it was a comparison of two brief passages. And I do see specific similarities beyond the tone. I am a writer, of fiction and earn my living in the communications field. I like both of these writers very much and respect them. In my fiction, I have written short passages as private replies to another writer who wrote a passage that moved me particularly, or that I simply think is so interesting it compels a response. That was my take on this situation, no more. Call it influence, call it contributing to the ongoing literary dialogue among writers. It comes from a level of sympathy and respect that a reader may never recognize. Of course this isn't plagiarism; I never said --or, using my authority as the author of the post -- said it was, or implied. Ingrid Tischer

I loved that episode. The whole Make Way for Foie Gras segment (who knew ducks could run that fast?), Mr. I Make Maple Syrup and I'm Okay, and all kidding aside, the Inuit family. Fantastic program. But as a dedicated viewer, I must speak of my amazement that Mr. Bourdain is still alive. He's been so drunk in so many places and he always lives to tell the tale. I, on the other hand, had two glasses of wine last night and slipped on the runner in the hallway. Couldn't even get from the kitchen to my bedroom without injury. God help me if I got hammered in a remote village and had to get in a boat to go home. Thank goodness I can leave all that to the professionals.

Not to scare you more but I understood that reference! There's a special pan for "poaching" eggs that has little round cups that sit above boiling water. You break the egg into the cup, cover the pan, the egg cooks in the cup. My mom had one and Williams Sonoma still sells them. But they're not "real" poached eggs, as those cook in the water. Good lord, it's like I'm Being MFK Fisher.

Check this out: "I always ate slowly, from a big tray set with a mixture of Woolworth and Spode; and I soothed my spirits beforehand with a glass of sherry or vermouth, subscribing to the ancient truth that only a relaxed throat can make a swallow. More often than not I drank a glass ot two of light wine with the hot food: a big bowl of soup, with a fine pear and some Teleme Jack cheese; or two very round eggs, from a misnamed 'poacher,' on sourdough toast with browned butter poured over and a celery heart alongside for something crisp; or a can of bean sprouts, tossed with sweet butter and some soy and lemon juice, and a big glass of milk." from An Alphabet for Gourmets, M.F.K. Fisher It makes me wonder if Cunningham was intentionally echoing Fisher; or wrote it as a private homage to a writer with whom she felt she shared a sensibility. Because the two excerpts seem too similar for it to have been coincidental.

We were just talking like this on one of the music discussion boards I frequent (troll?). Never mind which genre we were disparaging. Great line! ← Hee --- this all may be true but I can easily imagine the same dire State of the Culture judgement having been uttered by parents when The Wall ("another brick in the wall") was released. Every generation has its neuroses, food-focused and otherwise. And I believe the pre-Socratic Greeks thought the world was going to hell (Hades?) in their time. I think our current neuroses are unique to us, though, and that they're more about surfeit than scarcity as has been more common previously. Just not sure we're MORE neurotic now about food than in the past.

I'm not complaining, mind you, but that is certainly remniscient of Fisher's piece on eating alone in An Alphabet for Gourmets. She makes consomme double with an egg, I believe, and savors it slowly on a tray in her room. There might even have been a fireplace! Kind of explains why Cunningham brought Fisher to mind as mentioned upthread.

I think a lot of what's called neurosis is an anxiety-related reaction to so many low-level choices to be made (who ISN'T sometimes overwhelmed in a grocery store?) combined with a sense that we don't have enough meaningful control over our bigger food issues (contradictory medical findings, pollution, and such). It's a sign of stress. *** Have to add reference to Elaine on Seinfeld: "I didn't yadada over the best part of the date. I mentioned the lobster bisque." (paraphrasing)

And bakes those buns themselves after hand-leafing the lettuce. Haute eats get lots of justifiable respect but the fact I can get a burger so consistently well-made and delicious for $1.59 practically makes me cry with gratitude. Well, that and the non-rehydrated onions.

I keep Classico Spicy Red Pepper in the pantry at all times. Thin it out with a little chicken broth and some more chili flakes. Why not make my own with canned whole plums? Because I can't find a can opener I can use. My electric jar opener is a dream. But even electric can openers (which are a pain to clean -- and look out if you don't) require either some manual dexterity or wrist strength. Sometimes even simple stuff is hard!

I was so hoping someone would get all huffy with Stephen for not having sangria available. Better yet, white sangria. How I wish: "What do you have in a nice white zinfandel?" I'm still trying to find out more inside-info from the guy I know who was there in Sabor.

I've read the article but it doesn't relate to my point. Rothko's floating panels of color are often dismissed by people who scoff, "I could do that." Aside from the fact that the works contain much subtle technique, Rothko also has claim to two other accomplishments as an artist: a vision and a decision to go forward and execute it to the best of his ability. If they are to be culinary "arts" versus culinary "crafts," it seems to me vision is at least as important as execution. In the case of the chefs involved in this particular situation, vision (idea) is all. It sounds as though execution was done well by both. The distinction is that one was being a follower to the other's leading. Because the vision is so important, I thought it worth looking at the issue of "ownership" in relation to it, instead of limiting the ethics to end product. My question was, How do you deal with the ethics of crediting/not crediting ideas -- whatever they are -- versus work product?

I've never been to Cha Cha Cha, but whenever my friends Amy & Liz go, they bring me their leftoevers. I heartily recommend the spinach and bacon salad, whatever it is with shredded pork and tortillas, the black beans and dirty rice, and the ceviche. I guess I should actually eat the food at the restaurant some time! ← Do it! Take the plunge! I almost forgot the fried calamai and the chicken paillards in mustard sauce. We really need an emoticon that's a drooling smiley face. The aioli with the new potatoes is spiked with pasilla. They're better than Thirsty Bear's, in my opinion. It's my mom's favorite SF restaurant. We had a fantastic lunch for three where we were stuffed and he bill was around fifty bucks.

Yes, but all execution -- which can be complex -- begins with the idea. The creative impulse. That impulse, the "Eureka!" moment, can be be executed as an abrupt shift, such as turning your back on complex techniques and showcasing ingredients. This isn't intended to be an argument that simplicity's "better" than complexity. I'm using the peach/shrimp noodle contrast as an extreme comparison to illustrate. When I lived in DC in the 80's, I had a friend who ate at Restaurant Nora and was shocked at getting what she called "a plain bowl of berries," for dessert. (She thought it was pretentious.) But as I recall, RN was considered influential. Meaning others copied their decisions. So, my question was that, while a bowl of berries is not available for patent (I hope) what do you think about "ownership" of the idea to serve them? If a chef *copies* that idea, what is the nature of the distinction between doing that versus recreating a technique and plating? In terms of ethics, not law. Keeping in mind that history plays a part. Deciding to do that plain bowl of berries in 1988 was different than in 1888. Every culinary shift/innovation is connected to its place in time. And for any Borges lovers out there, the story "Pierre Menard, Author of the Quioxte," is absolutely hilarious in light of this discussion.

After reading about smoked yogurt, nitro, shrmp noodles, and patent law I am not surprisingly fantasizing about a perfectly ripe peach on a pretty plate, the only "plating" being a few leaves and a dew-drop. It's not a perfect example, but what about when the "new" thing, the great idea, isn't really new? Is the concept of plagiarism applicable to the *decision* to re-present a forgotten, neglected or unfashionable culinary technique, etc. "I brought syllabubs back first!" Or a perfect peach served buck naked. It may sound like splitting hairs, but I'm genuinely curious: Why is "creativity" and it's consequent credit-claiming so often bound up in ever-increasing complexity?