ned

I brought some striped bass down south recently to be prepared by a local chef in Atlanta. He had been given (by a sushi chef) a roll of the most spectacular plastic wrap. It has two layers and somehow acts to draw water out of watever it wraps and then traps the water between its layers. We left the bass in it for 18 hours and when it was removed man, what a remarkable thing that filet was. The package had no English on it. Only Japanese. There was a graph showing, I imagine, water being drawn from fish and meat. White box, green kanji. I want to buy some of this stuff. Anybody heard of it or what it's called in English or seen it around? I'm in NYC.

I'm really loving the versatility of the negroni. Unlike most other drinks where proportion can make or break a drink, with the Negroni, you can alter the proportions to suit mood, palate or desired alchohol intake. A week ago I was in the mood for a ginny drink and went with the classic version of one to one to one proportions. Last night I made something more along the lines of an Americano garnished or with a splash of gin. Then a friend showed up, thirsty and we were plumb out of his favorite drink--Red Stripe--so I made equal parts Campari and vermouth, a slightly more generous splash of gin, a squeeze of lemon and then a healthy pour of perrier, rocks. In my travels, increasingly I find that you can't miss with a Negroni, dial it up, dial it down, it's always great.

Thanks for the links.

I've hunted all over the gullet and not been able to find much information on how to make prosciutto. There must be at least some folks out there who have tried doing this. Questions: To brine or to lay in salt? For how long? What are the most common seasonings, if any? Hang for how long? At what temp? What humidity? How much do time temp and humidity matter considering that the process used to and must still happen in cellars which are cool but not so stable what with rain and drought and seasonal changes? What about air circulation What else is there to worry about? Do you rub it with salt periodically? How do you know when it's done? Should it be wrapped? Does it matter how big the ham is? I expect the new Ruhlman book--come on Amazon, get that sucker to me--will put a lot of these questions to bed but that's only one, er, a few men's opinions.

I had a meal at Old Homestead three years ago that was so bad and so expensive, I'm still pissed off about it. The rib chop I suffered through a small part of was choice if it was that. Oi, I can just remember looking around the room at all the morons yukking it up a gobbling down that overpriced rot and wondering how in the hell they could do it. As Mr. Wolf would say, phooey. They do have a rather enticing sign out front. Maybe that explains it. In any case Tommy, I hope I'm not too late--DON"T GO TO OLD HOMESTEAD. Go somewhere else. Anywhere else. Get a steak at Joe Junior's It'll be better and cost a small fraction of the price.

I ate lunch at Balthazaar--no booze-with my wife for 48 bucks before tip. You can eat Vientamese at Pho Grand for 20 bucks. If we're talking ethnic food. this is an easy question:you can go nearly everywhere It's more fun if there's a chef in the kitchen with a degree from CIA or a guy from Japan with a mad knife collection. To whit, Ebisu on 9th between 1st and A. Not the best sushi in NYC but definitely good, smart, generous and unless you get carried away, less than a hundred bucks. I think Yumcha would have fit the bill. Prune certaily does.

I can't seem to find any of those photos at the moment but who cares because my spit arrived already. I'll be damned if it isn' msde in Italy and furthermore if it isn't exactly the same thing that Umbrian shepard was using. Out of sight man. Tried to get my hands on a small lamb or goat for the weekend but at such short notice couldn't pull it off. Soon come mahn, soon come.

I bought the electric one that comes up from slkinseys's link I've done the process very rustically (a word?) maybe five times: re-bar or bamboo or pimento branch and manually turned every twenty minutes, to varying degrees of success--tough Jamaican goat, wonderful Spanish goat. . . I think the way the animal is spitted is of capitol importance. The shepard did a very complex thing where the animal was split between the legs and turned back on itself with right hind and foreleg tied and left hind and foreleg tied. Most importantly, there was a second bar or stick that sandwiched the animal and was tied at ends to the spitting stick that, I think mediates the necessity of perfect balance. I'm rushed now but I'll post an exemplary photo of this later.

I had the opportunity to watch an Umbrian shephard and chef (same guy) cook an 8lb lamb using a device that looked exactly like one of these spits. Arguably the best meat of any kind I've ever experienced. I've been hunting for a device like his ever since. This is a godsend. I am so excited. And $225 poorer as of a few moments ago.

On the specials tonight and slamming. . . slamming: Pork shank cooked roughly in the style of osso buco milanese, i.e. light braise and subtle inflections of lemon zest. Perfectly cooked: still with some spring, juicy and caremelly with collagen. Also a side of super-rich cabbage with one nice big anchovy setting off the fat. Hubba hubba. Prune's food is dialed in. I would have happily eated anything on the menu. With Red Stripe. Restaurant was running like a top.

I’ve really been enjoying the Pegu Club. Going there often, learning some new drinks, etc. So I’m reluctant to say anything at all critical especially because it is such a labor of love. That said. . . Last night while sat in front of another delicious Juniperitivo, a stainless steel shaker was launched in the air, did a sextuple flip, bounced off a door frame and clattered to the floor. As a former member of a juggling troupe I can hardly be critical of the occasional dropped ball, however there is something anathama about the vibe at Pegu and the “Cocktail”-esque flingings and spinnings of containers behind the bar. After one experience of this I was befuddled, although also curious as to how the adroit fellow would do with devil sticks or a diablo, but I ultimately assumed he’d be trained out of his highjinks. Now though, three visits hence and I’m starting to wonder how he’d do with fire clubs or running chainsaws or as part of a duo with Smerdyakov of the famous juggling Brothers Karamazov. It seems that the flim-flummery is becoming institutionalized. Maybe I’m alone in experiencing his theatrics as dissonant with gestalt of the bar. In any case, the guy is a killer drinks mixer

So I'll repeat the chorus and say that Balthazar is full of people studying maps, young women waving skinny arms in the air and giggling at men who need a wash and a shave and the limos outside etc etc. But once that's all done, I want to start thinking about Balthazar as a restaurant that cooks food and serves it. Like a normal restaurant. Only I don't think Balthazar is so normal. They don't have ideas. The menu doesn't have a single original item. I like that. They follow the seasons. They execute consistently and at a high level. They serve pate, liver and sweetbreads. Sometimes whole rabbit. I've probably been to Balthazaar ten times and can't think of when I've had a bad experience. Perhaps that's because I was looking at the girls with skinny arms and not paying attention to my food. . . I can say that today while I was eating the best piece of skate I've ever had and nigh onto one of the best pieces of fish I've ever had and my lovely wife sat across from me silently inhaling a duck shephard's pie, there were many pairs of skinny arms and I managed to bring an adequate amount of attention to bear on all three. The beautifully browned skate wing was vigorously seasoned, which I like, and topped with a piquant sauce rich with toasted hazelnuts and sliced shallot. It was sitting on a pile of haricot verts that could have been cooked a touch more carefully but between the caramelly biceps over at the bar and the roasty hazelnut and browned butter orbiting my mouth, who was I to complain? I left Balthazaar not so many dollars lighter and certain that I must visit far more often.

Damn. Wish he hadn't done that.

Sounds like Sanbitter to me, of which I just bought ten small stylish bottles. I haven't done much sampling yet but I'm thinking it's non-alchoholic Campari, maybe with a little more bitterness.

Dinner is the most difficult proposition in Greenport. I've postulated that there's one just kitchen under Greenport producing crap-fried whatevers and salad with chemical dressings and aged fresh vegetables. I've been to the Frisky Oyster once and found it to be worse than I expected and more expensive than I couid have imagined. Thirty-three dollar steak frites in Greenport? C'mon. Steak ordered medium rare and delivered north of medium with a slice in the middle where a cook checked to make sure he'd gotten it wrong. There is a place called the Scrimshaw that makes a truly phenomenal and memorable pork chop. I don't like the plating, too much business but that's all irrelevant. I go there for the pork chop. I can recommend the Scrimshaw with no qualms. Also for thirteen bucks you can get a just better than mediocre lobster roll at Claudio's. Sometimes that hits the spot. Dinner aside, you've got some really good options for earlier in the day. Start off in the morning with an espresso from Aldo's Too. He makes the best espresso. Better than Via Quadronno here in NYC. Really. And he makes scones that will blow your mind. All the things he bakes are great. Aldo's is a must. Like so many passionate people, he's got a complex personality. Some days he's a little cranky. Don't mind that, just drink his coffee. He's not been able to train his baristi to perform at his level. Later in the day, eat fried chicken from Salamander's. Take it to the beach or something. Call ahead to order it. I can't recommend this chicken highly enough. The method they use there is called "broasting". I've never heard of that anywhere else. . . no matter. It's brilliant fried chicken. Oh and I forgot the most important part: Go back to Aldo's intermittently throughout the day and drink more espressos. Eat a few of his biscotti.

Rundown isn't really made from a specific recipe. As I understand it, rundown is like the thing your mom made on Thursday night when she was cleaning out the fridge. Little bit of this leftover, half that onion doesn't seem to be rotten, here's some saltfish. Few leaves of calalloo from last night. Add some oil, some scotch bonnet peppers (maybe pickled ones), a touch of that weird pink/orange chicken seasoning, allspice, of course, some ginger, garlic if you have some.

In our house it's Krazy Salt. Oh and also, not sure if this counts, two things actually: Maggi and Wundra.

Tres Hermanos in Sandy Springs. Off Hammond drive? Can't remember. Anyway it's a grocery store (worth a visit on its own merits) with a small very informal restaurant. I've never been disappointed there. That's not strong enough. I'll put it this way. When my wife and I visit Atlanta to see her family, she always demands a stop at Tres Hermanos on the way in from the airport. Even if her dad's made dinner.

Finally made it to Pegu yesterday afternoon. It more than lived up to the hype. I was prepared to pass off excesses of interior design as an evil necessary to an ambitious project such as this. Not so at all. It's really good in there. Conjures a mood, the light during the day is fabulous, dusty bamboo flooring, all that orientalism, good furniture, a great big bar made from one maple tree with visible memories of being tapped for maple syrup. . . really cool. As far as drinks, well I finally had a chance to try a Ti Punch. Hilarity of hilarities, it's not the drink for me. I recognize why another would love it. Anyway after months of curiosity that's finally out of the way. I moved into safe territory with a Negroni made with Boodles followed by a Juniperotivo. Both were exemplary but the Juniperotivo: lime juice, simple syrup, pomegranite syrup (actually molasses I think?), mint, Junipero gin. That's a drink I'm going to be messing around with for a while. Oh and also we were feeling a little snacky so ate the deviled eggs with smoked trout. They are a good effort. I'll want to eat them every time I go to Pegu. Makes me wonder about the venerable tradition of snacks that sit on the bar, not nuts and pretzels but pickled boiled eggs and other pickled things, sandwiches (up until prohibition). I don't know so much about it, just a notion that back in the day there might be a jar of something semi off-putting sitting behind the bar for patrons to munch on. . . I'm rambling. Pegu makes a yummy deviled egg that rivals the one at Blue Smoke.

I wonder if you had the five or eight course meal. And if you had the five, would you describe the fish (what fish was it btw?) as an entree of sorts? I ask this because, to me, and I'm a huge fan of Lampreia, Scott has an odd relationship with his entrees. They are conservative and not so inventive and haven't hardly changed at all since I've been going there (1996). The rest of the menu, that which is above the entrees as well as beneath them has always been wildy creative and individualistic and changes often. As a result, I seldom, if ever eat Scott's entrees. I sometimes wonder if he leaves them on the menu out of a feeling of obligation although that wouldn't explain why one of these dishes ended up on a tasting menu. I've eaten the veal chop a couple of times and feel similarly to Ironick. . . it is lacking in something. Maybe Scott's taste in proteins has become minimalistic in a way that his patrons don't share? I don't know. I do have to respond to Ironick's comparison of Lampreia to Etta's, Flying Fish and Belltown Bistro. It's a comparison of apples and oranges. These are just different calibur restaurants. They have different objectives, a different level of focus and artistry. . . my friends and family love me for comments like I'm about to make: they are just objectively different. One might like Tom Douglas's french fries, fried calamari or crab cakes. . . this isn't what's going on at Lampreia.

I had a chance to visit El Ranchito a couple of days ago amid a family visit to Terrace Heights and some wine tasting throughout the Yakima Valley. It's been some years since I was there. I was struck by the beauty of the landscape, the fresh fruits at the farmer's markets--at the moment nectarines and peaches, also cantaloupe. Uncharactacteristic, well actually very characteristic but not common, sweetness and development of flavor, especially in the peaches. We tasted the products of four different wineries: Portteus, Sagelands, Piety Flats and Windy Point. Even the less original wines are pretty good. Portteus' Petit Syrah was easily the best thing we drank. I also enjoyed Piety Flats' Mercantile Red. Perhaps El Ranchito is not so good as it was. . . still we were very pleased with what we ate: chile colorado burrito pork tamales asado taquitos menudo Also loads of chips with delicious salsas. All in all an excellent tour

I'm basking in memories of yet another mind boggling meal at Lampreia. Last night they offed a couple of tasting menus. Naturally the wife and I chose the longer one. Most memorable in this order were: gravlox of Idaho Kobe, steamed squash blossom stuffed with salmon belly topped with generous slices of summer truffle, Chef Carsberg's signature dungeness crab roll, this time wrapped in cantaloupe rather than apple (the apple is prettier but once it's in the mouth it's kind of a toss up between the two), breast of squab cooked sous vide with sage served on concasse of tomatoes. He did a cheese, pecorino that had been baked on a cedar plank and drizzled with truffled honey. . . yowza. The squash blossom dish is really something. Waiters deliver little staub pots with little lidded steamer baskets. The lid comes off and reveals this precious package. . . just stunning beautiful. Hats off. What a gem Seattle has in Lampreia.

Strike me down. . . I had a respectable espresso (albeit served in a paper cup) at the Whole Foods Cafe that` overlooks Union Square. I wouldn't go out of my way for it but when you're in need of a shot, it's head and shoulders better than anywhere else in the area.

I'd vote for Peking Duck, as much because of the atmosphere as the food. Both are nice and both are easy on those unacustomed to Chinatown's delights. With a couple of excepetions, I don't think the food at Wo Hop is all that great and it's also a little dingy.

My two cents. . . hats off to Ms Hesser. Great story.