Gr8Waiter

one thing that I have noticed in many of the places where I get cafe con leche is that the leche is usually sitting in a bunn pot on a warmer and already has a signifcant amount of sugar added to it. this procedure is similar to the making of 'sweet tea'. at home in addtion to adding a bit of sugar to the top of the espresso I also heat the sugar and milk in a pot or in the microwave prior to adding the cafe'. seems to work just dandy as many have complimented me on my cafe' service. just a thought.

For me gluttony was every Sunday night during the summer of 2002. My roommate who was a great chef and graduate of Codon Bleu in Paris used to make sweatbreads. Every Sunday night. The best were pan fried whole lobes. They were then stuffed with foie gras and finished in the oven. Various vegetable would be served on the side. It was the summer of Red Zin for us so 2 or 3 bottles would be opened and consumed. Usually since it was Sunday, a great deal of cheese, butter, and bread were consumed as well. Not just any cheese but only the triple creme varieties. THAT MY FRIEND WAS GLUTTONY !!!

It is an especially good thing that I am was not lying in bed with my laptop as I read this article because then I would feel uneasy, possibly even have to change my sheets. Is it only gravlax that this writer ponders as a food with a sensual correlation? Why not the very primitive hotdog? Or the exquisite joy of letting oysters slip so gracefully from their shells and slide down one's throat. Only a true lover of food can know this experience. How only a lover can know about making love, and we are not talking just having sex, but the act of true lovemaking here. When you take a slice of perfectly seared foie into your mouth, it is then that you comprehend precisely what we are talking about. This is an experience that the words of we mortals cannot even begin to adequately describe...it is the feeling of warmth and satisfaction of orgasmic proportion. After all, this is why we eat the things we eat., isn't it? What would be the thrill of a huge spoonful of Beluga if it didn't give us a "rush"? What is the thrill of gulping down well aged ports, quaffing Penfolds Grange, as if there was no tomorrow? Why do we drink Chateau d' Yquem when we could make a mortgage payment with what we pay for just a bottle...because of the "rush". Possibly for the intense and unparallelled heights? It is all a "rush" and is just as much a "rush" for the foodie as great sex. Possibly even better?