jamiemaw

The Internet is a fabulous place for those who use it with good intent. Unfortunately, it's an even better place for those who don't. Purposely post my real name? It'll never happen. ← So what you're saying is that you're not actually Bob Seeger?

This is a tough issue. I am active on many message boards on a number of different topics. I see the 'slagging' issue everywhere. For some reason the internet, and the anonymity it provides, seems to make people more aggressive. People seem to have no problem making accusations without foundation. I notice they also make personal attacks more frequently than I encounter in face-to-face interactions. I find the egullet forums, especially in food media & news, a sometimes very hostile place. Why is that? Is anonymity and physical separation feeding it? It's more than passion for the topic. ← I agree with both of these summary viewpoints, or, as in the order above, effect and cause. I've have found it ridiculous in the past that a new, anonymous and clearly single-issue member can slag the daylights out of others who have declared themselves and who might have beneficially contributed to the discussion for years. That's a case of obvious conflict turning into obsessive vendetta, which, in some cases, has been ineffectively moderated. And indeed, Robb, anonymity can foment hostility. The riots in suburban Paris, after all, are not taking place in the cold light of day. Lastly, I'd be curious to know if the post-November 2004 membership registration system is a.) reasonably foolproof and b.) checked before enrollment is completed? In other words, do moderators have reasonable surety, as indicated above, that they could track down conflicted, irresponsible or even dangerous flamers if it were required?

Vietnamese sandwich, extra peppers: Go faster.

I wouldn't disagree. In order that the police maximized the impact of their visit to the chef who had been stalking me (mainly by telephone, fax and email), they went into the perp's restaurant at 8 o'clock on a Friday evening and read him the riot act in front of his wife. Because he is Greek, they wanted to speak to the real decision maker in the family.

I would email Cathy Klein (arnsbourg@relaischateaux.com; her English is excellent, incidentally) to see what she would recommend. If memory serves, it's about 50 minutes or so from Strasbourg, although we became lost at least once. We stayed at a nearby inn, about two kilometres from the restaurant, that they had recommended. In many ways, we found it the anti-three star: light-filled, contemporary, lovely views of the meadows and with service and food equally unstuffy. Further, the kitchens were huge and modern, and the pricing less than many of its peers.

Thank you for that, Michael. I've been stalked by a deranged chef. Fortunately he was only slightly better at it than he was at cooking.

In order to gain tenure on this campus, if you're a journalist or restaurant owner, it's perish or publish. Michael's point is well made, and the playing field is indeed uneven for industry professionals who profess themselves here but who must (occasionally) suffer the slings and arrows of those conflicted by pseudonymity's cosy duvet. We've outed at least two imposters in our local forum who were denigrating their business competitors under the veil of supposed anonymity. It wasn't difficult to sniff them out, but it was annoying and had we made their dishonesty more public elsewhere, could have easily been costly for them. Unfortunately we had no forum host at the time to deal with the issue. My point is that the discourse on this site was turned against those who use it honestly because of pseudonymity, not in spite of it. As long as members understand that there are two classes of citizens here: those who are required to be transparent, and those who are not, the opportunity to co-exist continues, especially if hostile posters grinding an axe are properly and expediently dealt with.

I must have missed that segment.... unless you are referring to something upcoming.... or perhaps this is what aired tonight???? ← It aired tonight; will likely repeat later if it's a slow news night.

Interesting interview with Michael Noble in the Earls development kitchens; and "Chuck-Hell-o-Feenie" at the White Spot.

Andrew, I chose not to attend Tourism Whistler's Cornucopia this year in order to celebrate two landmark family birthdays. But perhaps I also had second thoughts. I congratulate Chris Coletta and her crew, as well as the many participating wine merchants, local businesses and volunteers for reorganizing the event. They've made it more meaningful by using mainly BC presenters (the hilarious Josh Wesson is a notable exception--please say hello). But I’m not sure that the event fulfills one of its underlying mandates: to promote the culinary scene at Whistler. The backstory: Years ago, Cornucopia was launched (together with a short-lived program called Christmas in November that mainly attracted chardonnay-swilling soccer moms from the Caulfield Plateau) to fill beds during the slow November shoulder season. It worked and many restaurants participated in the Saturday evening wine dinners. Of course a number of others were closed for staff holidays. This year, with the early snowfall, from that aspect at least, the event is less important. But that’s a sidebar. Importantly, this is one of the few (and perhaps only) opportunities that culinary, wine and general media have to visit Whistler. Typically though, their exposure to the culinary scene is restricted to one Winemaker’s Dinner, a brunch at the Chateau and a lot of passed food. Not the best exposure for what are, after all, some very good restaurants and farms. For instance, I doubt you made the snowy drive for the express purpose of dining at Earls. By the way Fifty Two 80 is open for lunch. For local food journalists, though, it's a bit of a boondoggle. What's the story-line? Great party? I had a great time drinking Jack's wine and you (dear reader) didn't? I saw the barenaked ladies? Be sure to come next year? As a wine event, it works; but as a food event, it works much less well. Especially given the fact that for most of the participating restaurants, it’s a breakeven at best, when (especially this weekend) they could be filling their rooms with more profitable customers. Or so the local grumble goes. One year, we helped organized a showcase, where about 18 restaurants showcased at The Westin during the Trade Day afternoon, exclusively for the media. Unfortunately, that program was dropped. What do I think would help cure the problem? Several things: 1. Get the Chefs’ Showcase moving again; 2. Instead of static winemakers' dinners for the media, organize progressive dinners on two nights. 3. Reposition the timing of the event for summer (like Aspen), a time when all the restaurants are open and the weather would logically allow for outdoor venues to be used and the mountain (and pemberton Valley farms) to be shown off to true advantage, especially to the international media that occasionally show up. After five or six consecutive visits as a corporate sponsor, our time at Cornucopia began to look like Groundhog Day. Better to give up my bunk for someone new to the event, methinks, and I'm glad that you and others will be filing your reports. On the other hand, or at least with it, I'll be raising a glass to my brother and mother. Cheers and enjoy, Jamie PS: And very shortly, I suspect, you'll know the real reason they call it Crush!

Does anyone have a source for good, fresh graham flour? Robin Hood used to make a credible version that, mixed 50:50 with white flour, worked well in my Irish soda bread recipe, which also includes buttermilk. That product has seemingly been discontinued. I've tried a few from the bins of various health food stores, but without the same effect. Any suggestions? Jamie

We're Equal Opportunity chowderheads, ludja; there really is no default style locally. My own preference is for the tomato and clam juice based (so-called Manhattan) style, although I've also sampled some delicious white chowders where the roux had been properly cooked and the vegetables were fresh and lively. Smoked tomatoes deliver an interesting twist, as can fennel. I've also sampled a delicious curried model during this research. Traditional--no; delicous--yes.

No. Merged left.

Check, please. I had a dreadful bowl of CC the other night and thought that I should share it with you, if for no other reason than to explain how some restaurants can get it so very, very wrong. Even those who--I believe quite mistakenly--think that they know better. The first thing that I order at any restauarant is soup. It's a lead indicator of just how closely Chef is paying attention. In Vancouver restaurants it varies from the clean to the uncouth; for me, it's an instant barometer of how the whole kitchen's going. My younger daughter, A-2 and I snuck out of the rain and into Joe Fortes last weekend. The weather was blustery; Maws aussi. A-2 has a clever palate. We ate some fibrous, seemingly farmed prawns (tongue Thai-ed?). So obviously held captive in a chill-locker, they tasted like posture-challenged condo salesmen in Orlon suits. On the other hand, though, the red sauce was almost as provocative as Dr. Art Hister. Well nearly. Then came the bowl of the most turgid, depressing bowl of clam chowder that I've not-quite-eaten in many years. Library paste: The roux was not browned off (although we soon became so with each disbelieving, uncandescent bite). The skin was so thick that the Sedin sisters could have scored a hat trick. And I believe that might have been a bell pepper (the Kelly Bundy of the entire pepper universe) that ensnared my Zamboni. The bread was also weak and poor, the butter whipped and piped into miniature ramekins--a sure sign that you're eating in the wrong exurb. The chopped clams in our congealing soup almost tasted canned, but with the greatest respect to them, they were the only clammy thing in this unholy admixture. Except for the damp handshake of our laconic barman. When we suggested that Chef might want to review his roux, he mumbled that he'd 'mention it to him'. Then he slapped the tab: 2X2 beers, prawns, soup: $50 +. This is my report. [PS: Interestingly (for me at least), we'd had a much better bowl of CC the night before right around the corner at Earls. If you know the provenance of Earls' soups (made in Alberta, plasma-bagged, chill-shipped) you might be rather surprised. Relatively, we judged it much fresher and livelier, even snappy. With a Posturepedic-like mattress of their foccacia it expressed little desire to simply lie back and think about England.] Research continues.

Manny has a broad selection of the '03 Spaniards at Senova.

My parents travelled a fair bit when we were children. A rotation of housekeepers moved through the house with stunning alacrity: caretaking the five of us was not for the faint of heart; on a good day it looked like out-takes from The Little Rascals. Mrs. Kerr, a stern Scotswoman of rigid discipline was the least evil but notoriously thrifty (Junket for dessert, then tapioca, then jello with tinned mandarin orange segments; repeat cycle). But the worst by far was a Teutonic Brunhilda who dressed in nurses' whites. We called her Frau Diesel, but only to her considerable backside. It was the first time I'd seen leg hair under nylons. We were pretty sure she'd been a tractor mechanic before joining the ranks of child-minding professionals. One morning we awoke to a witheringly putrid, gag-inducing smell that spread through the house like flatulence after a Rotary convention. A Rotary convention, let it be said, featuring a smorgasbord of fermented seal meat confitted in cod liver oil. Mystified, we appeared at the breakfast table, which was at the very ground zero of the horrendous odour. Our eyes watered as Frau Diesel placed bowls of Norwegian Fish Balls on the table, neatly ladled over toast. 'Eat!' Diesel declared. I looked at my brothers. Peter managed to choke one down. But my sister Elizabeth didn't make it quite that far. In an impressive fit of projectile vomiting that would have made Linda Blair proud, the ball of fetid cod hurled across the breakfast table and rolled toward the dog. He wisely ran away.

I feel equally threadbare.

Typical Manhattanite...??? Although I suppose this would really be a badge of honor! It would be even more exciting if you told us this occurred on a tiny NYC balcony, thirty stories up. ← Or on a fire escape. Want lethal though? Don't use white gas, whose flame is invisble in daylight.

James, Everyone (i.e. not just you and chef) should know that restaurants can qualify by commiting to removing unsustainable items over time (one item upfront though) and that entire menus needn't be reformatted instantly. Call Jason, as above, for more details.

I think this is common throughout Upper Canada, but I don't know about Quebec, or Eastern and Western Canada. The use of Northern Spy apples, and a lard crust is considered old fashioned now, but it will make a superb pie, without a lot of sugar or thickening. These apples are worth looking for. As children, my brother and I preferred Ice cream, but as teenagers, we graduated to cheddar, usually medium, but sometimes 'old rat trap'! ← My Dad, who's from Montréal, introduced the sharp cheddar-on-top custom over here on the Wet Coast and it must have been pretty groundbreaking in 1946. But then he's always been a pretty trendy guy--one of few who can get away with an ascot while gardening. Our family remains divided on the subject: My sister hissily insists on her pie à la mode, with vanilla ice cream; my Mum and many brothers prefer her whipped cream with the merest nudge of nutmeg; and my fiancée and I are fond of gorgonzola, or one of the local bleus. Although I don't forsee an easy resolution, we're urgently seeking counselling. This is my report.

James, This year in The Eating & Drinking Guide we published Ocean Wise icons underneath particpating restaurants. Next year we will--by geographic location--also publish a separate and prominanet page of participants.

He knocks politely at the door. I also have a double-barrel, 10-guage over-and under shotgun for anyone who might visit unexpectedly in the middle of the night. ← According to Mrs. Claus, Santa's arthritis necessitates a side-by-side. Save him some of the grappa.

Grappa.

Proprietor croons, food less so. Think Ricky Ricardo up front, Lucy in the rear.

How does Santa get in at your place?