jamiemaw

Terrific points Barolo. To them I would add the change, after a concerted struggle led by Geoffrey Howes of the BC Restaurant and Food Service Association, to the province's liquor legislation. That allowed for "food primary" licensees (i.e restaurants) to serve a glass of wine without the patron having the "intention to eat". Voila--it immediately led to the installation of bars and lounge areas within restaurants (Fiction et al), and the establishment od stand-alone wine bars such as Vintropolis and Waterside. The change to the legislation has prompted liquor, wine and beer sales growth for many restaurants, but, lo and behold, the sky didn't fall in for pubs and hotel bars, although it has made them pay more attention to their food programs--now consumers can choose if they want to eat in a bar or drink in a restaurant. Remarkably grown up.

I would concur with Eric Chavot. On an upcoming trip to Paris, we're stopping off briefly in London specifically to dine at The Capitol. Well worth the trip. ← Welcome. I stopped off briefly at The Capitol recently only to lose my briefs. So please dish. Jamie P.S. Are you clairvoyent?

OK, kids. Many of us have made the circuit of the New in 2004 dining rooms now. Food and drink aside, which new restaurant do you feel offers the best design? And because the which isn't as important as the WHY (see Arne's excellent reply below), here's a list of new restaurants of interest that opened in BC last year. Aprés Arbutus at the Brentwood Bay Resort Aqua Black Tuna Bouchons (Kelowna) BravoBistro Brown’s Cactus Club Café (Park Royal) Cassis Bistro, Tapas & Lounge Chambar Clove Coast Culinaria Dan Dundarave Fish Market & Restaurant Fifty Two 80 Bistro and Bar at the Four Seasons Resort Whistler Go Fish! Gyu Japanese Teppenyaki Henry’s Kitchen Kingston Taphouse & Grille La Boulangerie (Kelowna) Libby’s Kitchen Lift Memphis Blues (Commercial Drive) 9th Avenue Grill One Restaurant Lounge Pacific Crab Co. Pair Bistro Rangoli Relish River Rock Casino Resort – (Lulu Lounge, Sports Bar & Grill and Runway 26) Sejuiced Sequoia Grill Shiru-Bay Chopstick Café Tamarind Toshi Sushi Vintropolis Wine Bar & Bistro Wilson’s Steak House Yuji Tapas Zen Fine Chinese Cuisine

Rebranding yet another human trait. The tipping point = what our parents call critical mass. ← Oh, I thought it was when the cow got fat enough to fall over by itself. Thanks, Jamie! ← Hmmm, Deborah. Maybe that's Critical Mess--leading to the other kind of Mad Cow.

This is definitely a sin, jgm, and yes, you will braise in hell. We will announce your penance shortly. Mind you it's not even close to the sin of being a 'pretend' swallower, which certainly begs other questions, none of which I particularly want to know the answer to.

Rebranding yet another human trait. The tipping point = what our parents call critical mass.

Yes indeed. And perhaps equally interesting is what followed, Anthony. Once the ‘sushi barrier’ had been crossed, the notion of product locality (and seasonality) came to the fore. Suddenly it became not just permissible but fashionable to support local, sustainable products. Here, that meant that long-distance ahi and Chilean sea bass were replaced on restaurant menus with items from the local fishery, in this case albacore and sablefish. The fact that they were superior products didn’t hurt either, ahi being the poor man’s sushi and all. After all, is there any greater culinary oxymoron than ‘sushi-grade ahi’? Where would that be—Bulgaria? Even centres with little culinary provenance found a way back to their backyard larder. Even Las Vegas wasn’t safe and now extols its culinary past in such items as artisanal meat leathers, grass-finished prime rib and celebrity busboys. But I digress. Another universal tipping point arrived long before the idea of locality. And that, I suppose, occurred in the 70s, when many European and Asian cuisines that had been profoundly North Americanized, also revisited their roots, at least on this continent. Take Italian, please. What were once red sauce joints with raffia-wrapped Chianti bottles and Alitalia posters morphed into Brunello-fuelled, terra cotta skived faux-Tuscan temples of the ‘New Authenticity’. And in time, the Ian Holm character in ‘Big Night’ became Stanley Tucci, albeit too late for the brothers and Louis Prima. I had to go all the way to Ralph's in Philadelphia to get consistently abusive waiters and a menu with the word 'Mama's' on it. Absolutely. So the New Authenticity seemingly happened with all of the cuisines that had been imported to this continent. To the point where it’s now more difficult to find honest spaghetti and meatballs or gummable sweet and sour pork than it is organic free-range funghi and Edgar Allen Pho.

A drawl is a beautiful thing. No wonder you miss it. Next thing you know you'll be saying 'oot and aboot'. Welcome, Jamie

Mighty Moosh, from the August, 2004 Vancouver Magazine Diner-- "Piscine Contest" "David Nicolay, the designer/restaurateur, fashioned a tall blond room for the owners of Coast, the newest entry in Vancouver’s piscine contest. Two storeys of wood and light (the upstairs is available for romantic liaisons, meetings and private parties), with a central communal table and two handsome bars, the slate-floored room looks born and bred in Vancouver. Long glamoliers dangle from the ceiling, looking very much like bull kelp. Fish prints, a wine wall and a patio complete. So do executive chef Sean Riley’s menus, for the most part well executed by restaurant chef Jeff Massey from a close-up open kitchen. Cold preparations, which take the form of a half dozen oyster types ($1.95 to $2.75 per piece), seafood nectars ($7) that might combine stock with kaffir lime, coconut and ginger or a more straightforward one of lobster essence, are commendable entries. The “1/2” coastal seafood platter ($60) combines prawns, oysters, octopus salad, mussels, crab cakes, crab ahi and caviar. Parties of four can supplement additions of lobster, marinated escolar, tuna and salmon for double the price. Seafood bowls ($14 to $38), also from the first page of the menu, include a mess of clams with chorizo and tomato, P.E.I. mussels Provençal or whole crab or lobster. We detoured to an oven-braised lamb shank, billed under the “on shore” section of the menu, served with a roasted tomato and taro root mash ($21). It reached a little beyond its grasp. Slightly dry from its reheat (a constant nag for osso bucco in Vancouver), it lacked both the punch of a quality gremolata and the deep undernotes of a more layered braising fluid. Back to the seafood menu. A softball-sized piece of halibut, cloaked in a light tempura batter, arrived with hazelnut- and-sesame-coated fries: fish and chips ($22). A house-made tartar sauce completed. It was a sound effort, if not in the same league as a piece of grilled Mediterranean sea bass ($29), served à la Basque (in the same bouillon of clams, mussels and chorizo as the earlier seafood bowl). Although we haven’t eaten at the central communal table yet, which enjoys the interaction of having its own chef, it provides an active and lively fulcrum for the whole room. And later, it became clear that the owners, Emad Yacoub, Shannon Bosa-Yacoub, chef Sean Riley and GM John-Paul Lamb, want this room regarded as a serious restaurant. Unlike their nearby Glowbal, which screams late into the night, Coast began to empty after the second seating, and by 11 o’clock or so, most of its patrons had departed for other venues, there to admire Yaletown’s dangerous mix of testosterone and sling backs, flavoured vodka drinks and lithe abdomens. We were left to admire some solid cooking, a long wine list and service that never sagged. Over a shared plate of desserts ($8 each)—comprising sorbets, a vanilla bean soufflé and warmed date and ginger pudding with caramel sauce (from pastry chef Steve Hodge)—we talked about how we had found our coast, for the most part, and in a restaurant that looks precisely like what it is." Hope this helps, Jamie

True story, ducky. And perhaps for launching the neighbourhood pub sheme too, although it was hog-tied from its inception by the Barrett regime's insistence on a neighbourhood "poll" that became impossible in time. Interestingly, neighbourhood pubs never really took advantage of their mandate--at least not in food terms except for a few ouposts where the locals sat down to greet and eat. And to add insult, it was the pubowners' powerful lobby in Victoria, especially with rural MLA's, that dramatically slowed down the repeal of licensing that--only two years ago--finally saw restaurants being able to serve a drink without the draconian "intention to eat".

How about bread? Of all the coming-of-age parables that define how we eat, bread is a pretty dependable bellwether. And if you look at the bread a local community eats you can pretty much tell: a.) Where they came from; and b.) Where they’re going. A lot of good baking died off after the war when the big commercial bakers such as McGavin’s really started pumping out square “sandwich loaves” for big post-war families. White foam bread became the order of the day. You really had to go out of your way by the 60s to find flavour and texture and crust, sort of like a conversation with Mr. Talent. For me that meant a trip to the Austrian Bakery near 10th and Alma—spectacular crust and crumb; good mayonnaise and ham made an ideal sandwich. Afterward, a visit to The Cookie Jar in Kerrisdale to secure a long skinny date loaf and some cold butter would round things out till teatime. The Vancouver Club had spectacular, shrapnel-throwing rolls from its own bakery in the basement, now a health club of all things. But those bakers, largely European, began retiring and their children found more profitable things to do. As for the bread renaissance? Many folks might attribute La Baguette (Granville Island) or Chris Brown and his partner Pamela at Ecco il Pane, originally baking from Lesley Stowe’s premises on West 3rd. And I’ll never forget Michael Lansky from Terra Breads bringing a huge suitcase of bread off the airplane from Los Angeles. A vice-president of Oxford Development Group, he’d chosen another course for chapter two of his life, electing to learn the business of baking. He trained during vacation time all over the U.S., but mainly at the La Brea Bakery in L.A. Every few weeks, while he was scouting locations here, he’d roll in with his latest loaves. The fig and anise was revelatory and we tore it apart like wolves. His breads described where we were going. That the Okanagan is rediscovering its culinary provenance is no secret, with chefs like Michael Allemeier at Mission Hill and Rod Butters at Fresco foraging locally for great stuff. But the tipping point for the Okanagan might be found in its bread. Although it’s been possible to buy good, even excellent, bread in Kelowna for a long time—mainly through the excellent delicatessens like Illichmann’s, Reiner’s and the Sunshine Market—there’s always room for more. Now they’re coming in droves. I’ve been revisiting Pierre-Jean Martin’s and his wife Sandrine Raffault’s La Boulangerie, for their excellent soups, pastries, sandwich breads and baguettes. He uses only French flour but never, thankfully, the word artisanal. Now Wine Access beverage writer Rhys Pender and his wife Alishan Driediger have opened The Okanagan Grocery on Gordon Road’s little food supply strip (what out-of-towners who do use the word artisanal would call Guisachan Village, but the locals call “That Place Next to the Big Fish Store on Gordon”). And yes, there are The Codfather Fish Store, L & D Meats, Paul’s Produce, and Liquids Liquor Store. Pretty handy. And now there’s some pretty good bread, too, including a sandwich loaf called OK Grocery, and a baguette that is more epis in dimension with a lovely crust but a very dense crumb. Fig and anis, and foccaccia and a chocolate loaf follow, but the cheeses straws were the hit of the expedition. So, if my theory is at all valid, Kelowna must be on the culinary tipping point. Two small bakeries opening within just a few weeks of each other—and both acquit themselves well.

Over the past century and more, there have been many important culinary bellwethers--points in time and innovation--that describe the way we eat today in British Columbia. Pull them all together and you get the timeline--and the sum--of what we eat and drink now. What do you thing were the important benchmark points in our culinary past that pushed us so far forward?

Re: Mad Cow Threat--Are You Nervous About Eating Beef? No. Perhaps that's because if it were a real threat we'd be nervous after eating beef. And as for those mice--I always found them a little skittish to begin with. And besides, they're just not that popular up here any more.

Foodie, It will be interesting to see where the Piccolo brothers take the Artigiano roast once their new roasting facility is fully operative in the next few months. As you no doubt know they have been using Intelligentsia coffee, under the Black Cat brand, roasted in Chicago. My understanding is that they'll be sourcing many of the same beans from the same plantations through broker Tim Castle in Los Angeles (amongst others), but now they'll have full control.

Didn't the leek and potato coup come in a 4 door hatchback model as well ? Joking aside Alabaster was brilliant food but I would agree the room was a bit too formal, the room seemed to demand hushed tones and had a cold impersonal feel - not something Vancouver seems to embrace. ← At the time I was rather fond of the coup de gras, too, available for two, in which case we called it the little deuce coupe.

Yeah?! - I've had some stupendous meals from Mark. Particularly when Yaletown was first opening up there was an italian place that he was cooking at and it was spectacular. ← I think that was Alabaster. Then it run by Adam Busby, who moved on to Cascabel ( Smoking Dog site ) , then to Dubrule Culinary school . ← Gotta put in my two cents for Alabaster. Brilliant food in a warm, inviting room. One of my long-gone faves. ← Yes, surely miss the panacotta from Mark in the Alabaster days. And Il Barino, such fond memories. A decade has slipped by! So who makes the best panacotta these days? ← Markus Weiland of Alabaster and Mark Potovsky of Il Barino were two of the most skilled chefs to alight here. Markus came from a place of strong discipline in his cooking (lengthy apprenticeships and postings in Switzerland and in Konstanz, Germany), Mark from a more freestyle approach. And both restaurants suffered from a lack of neighbourhood footfall traffic when Yaletown was still being renovated and the towers planned--busy with destination diners on Thursday through Saturday, but a little sad at the beginning of the week. Alabaster may have been a touch too formal as well--the white linen, alabaster statue, excellent service china, and sparkling glassware and flatware spelt a style of dining that didn't always fit with local diners at the time. But the northern Italian food certainly sparkled too: linguine with tomatoes, eggplant and olives ($10!) and leek and potato coup loaded with blackened scallops ($6!). He cooked very clean and the restaurant was a pleasure--it's just that neighbours didn't flood the place. Markus was also one of the early progenitors of the tasting menu, local ingredients purchased daily, and more recently, Slow Food. Il Barino, on the other hand, became very popular quickly, especially with the cashmered Italian set. It wasn't unusual to see hefty German and sleeker Italian cars piled three deep on a Thursday night. But here it was more the stress of managing a revolving door of chefs (what Mark Potovsky could do with fish was incandescent), and staff (and their substances)--the aristocratic Mrs. Markin grew tired of the circus after a time. She was famously to be seen meeting and greeting, with her lengthy cigarette smoldering, always the consummate schmoozer, and for a while at least, gave the city its first serious alternative to Umberto Menghi for styled Italian dining. That she would eventually sell the premises to him was poached in not a little irony. Markus Weiland now cooks in Sooke, at the decidely more casual Markus' Wharfside; Mark Potovsky seems to have wound up in Oregon.

Speaking of industry veterans, does anyone know where F. Morris Chatters is hanging his tweed fedora these days? As I understand it, until Saturday he was Director of Hunan Resources at Kung Pow Phat Soy. But apparently Chef Sven Chen Lenson caught Chatters redhanded--trying to sabotage the signature Chicken Kung Pow sauce by adding Mrs. H.S. Ball's Chilli Chutney (Rissie Blatjang) "for extra oomph" as Chatters said at the time. He was reportedly replaced by Ed Jovanovski. Chatters of course ran his own show for many years until eGullet Richmond Forum Host Keith Talent wrote the infamously derisive review that darkened the restaurant. Chatters was then briefly involved in security/PR at The Capilano Suspension Bridge, (he suffered a mild attack of Salmonella while on the job although he was unsure where he caught it), then ran the VIP room briefly at Skybar before linking up with Lenson. When I called his home earlier, all I could get out of his kids was that "He's taken Mom to a nearby bistro for Valentine's Day. Just look for the woman in the specatacularly plunging dress." Any tips to his whereabouts?

Jamie , did Paul Devlin have something to do with Il Barino? Something in the back of my head says he was married to the Owner. I just like to keep all of the players straight. Neil ← Dr. Devlin was married (briefly) to Sylvia Markin, the daughter of the owner. Sylvia worked the room, so to speak. I'm posting this from the nearby bistro where I went to resolve the emergency and drive the busboy to the hospital, marital mishaps and misunderstandings being so common on Valentine's Day. There was another flareup at a corner deuce. Turns out the husband had offered the wrong response to that age-old chestnut, "Do you think the (spectacularly plunging) neckline of this dress makes my breasts look too big?" I managed to throw some oil (actually, a rather tasty extra virgin, delightful in its fruity, youthful intensity) on the troubled waters. In the future, I counselled the husband, always reply, "Well Edwina, you're a man's woman, now aren't you. Has anyone ever told you that you look a lot like Nigella Lawson?" This seemed to placate the situation, although she offered to help me drive the busboy to VGH.

Pardon my absence. These clear nights have reeked havoc with the Heineken Red Star Noctocular Lantern ®—not a cloud to be seen to shine it off. Fortunately my new assistant, Miss B, had the brilliant idea of bouncing it off Rachael Ray’s fleshily upholstered backside—and here I am. Bruno Born does indeed run Sausi, a neighbourhood stalwart on West Broadway. He began it with his delightful wife Sally Angus and I understand that both can be sampled nightly. I believe that the addition of The Chef and The Carpenter (in both locations) would round out your list of Born again properties. Yeah?! - I've had some stupendous meals from Mark. Particularly when Yaletown was first opening up there was an italian place that he was cooking at and it was spectacular. It is is terrible - I cannot remember the name of the place but it was them and Villa Del Lupo that first started opening up the area - this is about 15 years ago. ← I believe that you are referring to Il Barino, owned by the Markin family, where Mark cooked for a while after Angelica’s went dark. It was sold to Umberto Menghi; his brother-in-law Ken Bogas ran it as Mangiamo after the untimely demise of Saltimbucco. Menghi tried to sell Mangiamo and thought that he had accomplished exactly that. But at the eleventh hour, with pen poised over the contract in his lawyer’s office, he thought he smelt something distinctly like fermenting fish. Turns out that the intendent purchaser, who had made his offer through a numbered company, was (allegedly) former Menghi consigliere Pino Posteraro. Thus started the infamous Yaletown shoot-out, aka Spaghetti Western. Posteraro and his wealthy partner Ken Vidalin built Cioppino’s instead. Menghi, instead of selling, and not to be outdone, expanded, completely renovated and rebranded Mangiamo into what is now Circolo. Posteraro countered with the addition of Enoteca and three private dining rooms. You will recall that it was the ancestors of these chaps who invented the word vendetta. Posteraro won the contest with superior food, driven attention to detail and a host of awards. Mangiamo/Circolo has set only one record: for the restaurant most continuously for sale. Whoops—must go. The Red Star Noctocular just flashed! Emergency call and I am donning the green cape as I speak. It's a 911-Valentine's Day crisis at a nearby bistro--somebody (no doubt Italian) just punched out a busboy for aggressive spousal leering, although according to the proprietor the wife in question was quite enjoying all the attention. Could be a busy night. Tonight my capable new assistant has bounced the Red Star off Giada De Laurentiis’s expansive brow, unquestionably the finest forehead in show business! Tomorrow she promises Nigella's not inconsiderable--and not disappointing--decolletage. Ever vigilant, etc., Jamie

Quite a mystery, Coop. Maybe Edgar Allan Pho?

I believe you're absolutely right, Coop. Before that I'm pretty sure it was "Friend or Pho?"

To smart, I would add "very hard working". Interesting discussion. How is it that a number of literate people, present company excepted, could interpret Eric's topic headline so completely differently—180° opposite, in fact. I took it to mean—“Of course Vij’s is a good restaurant—what are the others out there?” I also took it to mean that there was a desire to access “authentic” Indian restaurants, because it could be argued that halibut curry is not necessarily a staple of the sub-continent. To others’ postings of favourite Indian restaurants, and in addition to Vij’s and Rangoli, I would add my own: Akbar’s Own All India Sweets Annapurna Ashiana Tandoori Da Tandoor Del-Hi Darbar India Grill Maurya Nooru Mahal Planet Veg Rubina Tandoori (where Krishna Jamal's lovely plates sing) And last, the inimitable Velvet Café, which is located in the original Vij’s space. I am fortunate. For years, our nanny Sajni cooked her native Indian food in our kitchen several times a week. We were soon addicted; my children, upon returning from distant universities, rush for a fix—it’s priority one. And ask several dozen Yellow Cab drivers (as I was forced to in researching an article on Indian cuisine) where they like to eat and they'll look at you as if you were a bit dim. The unsaid answer (as others of you have noted) is at Mum's, for free. I want to credit Vikram for a number of things: his humanity (after the death of his head cook and her family members in a horrendous car accident), his extraordinary generosity (he has freely offered his services on countless occasions to benefit good causes), and his unwavering dedication to floating all of the boats higher in our culinary community: In addition to being a contributor to Vancouver Cooks and selling more than 250 books himself from his restaurant, he has hosted, gratis, many visiting culinary media and was recently elected President of The Chefs Table of BC, which he has tackled head-on with his usual enthusiasm. Additionally, he has educated many palates, many of those white, that have now fallen in love with Indian cuisine and are unafraid to venture to other precincts (see above) to try our luck. In that vein, Vij’s has merged not just distant flavours with local ingredients, but also a local style of service (no reservations, very explanatory) that has spelt accessibility. More power to him. Personally, and as a white guy with an Asian name, I like the way he's allowed my palate to be educated (while making it look like it was my idea), to distinguish clear ramps of flavour versus the muddy collision that I used to find. That's because like many of the best kitchens in this city, his line cooks "clean"--distinct, variegated, in profusion and diversity, but always ultimately in that wonderful paradox of complex simplicity. To that I would credit another innovation to him. Not only are his rooms clean and attractive, he also dared offer the city's first really sensible wine and beer lists. Now quality IPA flows freely, as do solid wine choices that scrum with the spicy food. There are other icons in the culinary community who have accomplished this same end, i.e. raising the cognizance of formerly “ethnic” cuisines, merging them with mainly local ingredients, and making them accessible, and even stylish and desirable. I’m sure that you can think of many, but in that group I would certainly include Tojo, the Elvis of sushi, who has morphed Japanese food into a distinctly Vancouver-based approach to raw fish; the Welshman John Bishop, who began by cooking Italian at Il Giardino but who became one of the pioneering proponents of our emergent regional cuisine; and Umberto Menghi, who revolutionized Italian restaurant cookery in this city. There are a legion more here, and even if you wouldn't call their menus strictly "authentic", most would call them delicious. One last note. I think our city would be much the poorer without Vij’s; he could have as easily chosen Seattle. Vikram Vij, as well as being one of the most charming guys (and, thankfully, sound businessmen) I know, is also one of the most humble. He first established himself on West Broadway where the Velvet Café now sits. He was cook, waiter, busboy and pearl diver. There were all of a dozen seats. He was not licensed and we drank smuggled gewürztraminer from tea cups. I will never forget where he came from and, I suspect, neither will he.

Ah, the real problem--budgets. It's odd, because Jeremy Clarkson seems to keep the test-drive cars for at least a week on Top Gear, driving them at peak times as well as during the lunch hour. What gives? But this raises that other issue--conflict. Who pays for the cars, the review theatre and sports tickets, the movie DVDs, and for that matter, the bridge cards, pads and pencils? Smaller periodicals might have no budget at all, bartering dinner with restaurants--some of whom might be advertisers--in exchange for a 'review'. But I've left the best until last: Who pays the freight for travel journalists, surely the most conflicted of them all? Here's a thought though. Surely the soon-to-be Duchess of Cornwall should be approached (before she gets busy with wedding arrangements) to deed surplus monies from Duchy tree rental to fund impoverished food writers. This would have the effect of pacifying both your Inland Revenue auditors and jealous lifestyle editors.

I don't doubt that Gill is a great journalist, and I enjoy his articles even though they don't say much about food. ← I do doubt that Gill is a great journalist, at least in the modern sense of the word. No doubt though that he is a great writer, and occasionally that great writing intersects with what he had for dinner. In reading your responses to my earlier question, it seems there are food writers who write decent, if somewhat forensic expository prose (the “I came, I ate, I left” school) and those who are more concerned only with exposing themselves. Fay Maschler seems to belong to the former school, the CSI: London Restaurants camp, Gill and Deborah Ross et al to the latter. But is there a writer out there who subscribes to both—i.e. entertaining word play that involves the reader while dishing the goods? Or am I just missing Craig Brown overly much? And, getting back to my earlier question, is there anyone who more thoroughly tests the restaurant in question, or is England simply too populated with restaurants to make it too expensive—both in time and money—to do a thorough job? My own theory is that, in order to develop a fully exposed picture of a new restaurant in England, it seems necessary to compile the sum of various reviews, other opinions as enlisted here, and then evaluate if that’s the place where I might wish to spend my daughters’ modest legacy. And so by default it is the reader, not the writer, who becomes the ink-stained wretch. That’s what we call conventional wisdom on this side of the drink, although I believe you call it received opinion, not unfitting given the protracted methodology necessary to make up the collective mind. In some jurisdictions there are voices of authority, whose budgets of time and money permit thorough, well-written and even occasionally entertaining soliloquies on our favourite topic. I can think of no better than those who occupy the throne at The New York Times where expansive budgets (and waistlines) portend repeated, anonymous visits at differing times of the week, i.e. during the Friday night slam as well as early in the week, and lunch if appropriate. The result is usually balanced, fair and accurate, although there is a downside: few are those who can do it for very long--in time it becomes toxic to the body and presents conflicts for the soul. (I remember a conversation with Bryan Miller, as he was about to reach his tenth anniversary in the job and who had long-since exhausted his bag of adjectives. He knew it was time to excuse himself from the table. “I just keep writing, over and over again, ‘and it was good,’” he said.) As to the hopes of the impoverished reader, perhaps Barthes himself said it best: "Writing is that . . . space . . . where all identity is lost, starting with the very identity of the body writing." Sound advice for some of the more flamboyantly self-aware in the writerly pack. They are the authorial equivalent, at one end of the journalistic contract, of the ignorant diner who has more money than brains, the flavour-of-the-month arriviste, the incoherent purchaser. They are—and should be—in direct dialogue with one another, even if most of us would rather keep that dialogue banished to the nethers of Harpers and Queen, where, unfettered, excess cash flow seeks social validation.