ned

Hmmm. That's not the one. It was in a free-standing building, taller. Apparently there are Basques in deco buildings all over rural California?

13 coins

Like many of my friends, I don't keep creme de mezcal in my liquor cabinet. However yesterday I was asked to mix a drink that calls for it. In the course of thinking about what to substitute, I realized that I don't have a clue what the creme is in creme de: mezcal, menthe, cacao and not in name but still there in Bailey's and Malibu. Is it just cream? I know alcohol is a powerful preservative but could a spirit with a milk product in it sit on the shelf unrefridgerated for five or more years like my bottle of Bailey's has? If it's not cream then what is it? And has anybody ever heard of creme de mezcal?

Thanks Deb. Did some googling and found lots of text but no pics to confirm. Sure sounds like the place though.

About seven years ago a friend and I decided to drive from San Francisco to Las Vegas. I'd probably read Fear and Loathing not long before and had some kind of early 20s lust for the road and aberrant behavior. Anyway around lunchtime, it's at least 95 degrees, we're in a cow town six or seven hours out of SF with a terrible need to relieve ourselves. I distinctly remember doing so in a bathroom in a bank the interior of which was covered in green faux marble Formica, walls ceilings, counters, everything (the bank and the bathroom), angles, cove ceilings, panels. Having solved the bladder problem we went on looking for nourishment and rolled by an art deco building with a red upholstered door. Went in and found a small bar, smoky and dusty with old men who looked to have been there for decades. In the back of the bar is a swinging door. We go through and find a giant room with long communal tables. Now this is getting good. So we sit down and a lady with very tall, stiff brownish-puce hair sets a water glass like you'd get in a high school cafeteria in front of each of us and pours wine in it. Everybody in the place is drinking this. She asks if we want lunch and we say yes. She leaves. The wine is undrinkably sweet. I think we may have chatted with the people next to us enough to find out that we are in a Basque restaurant. Hunh? I thought we were in mid-west California. Ok so the food starts coming out. Soup, then bread and then many many kinds of meat, from several different animals. The bill I think was twenty bucks for the two of us. We exit into the heat stuffed and disoriented. I can't remember the name of the restaurant or the town it's in.

Ramazotti is of the same genus as Cynar and Campari. It's one of those odd herb aperitifs made in Italy. Some people (myself not included) like it with soda. To make the drink just put ice in a highball glass with a slice of orange, muddle, then add Ramazotti. Stir, drink. . . make another.

Ramazzotti with muddled orange.

I was a Soto's last night. Divine. More later.

tsquare, lucky you tasting the Ginja. Had it myself in Lisbon a couple of years ago and fell in love with it. I also brought a bottle home but alas it is long gone now. I even learned to do the special pour using the cork to letout a few cherries. Does anyone know if Ginja is available in the states?

Seattle: --Anything you can get at Ivar's --same but at Dick's More specifically, --Salmon jerky --Beth's (12 egg) omelette (with mushrooms sausage and cheese) A little fancier but shouldn't be, actually best eaten with Puget Sound in sniffing distance and no pesky waiters around --grilled wild salmon (if it comes from Alaska, like from the Copper River it's still from Seattle) with morels and asparagus --butter clams and butter --all the oysters you can eat from Mutual Fish (or if you don't want to shuck 'em yourself then at Emmett Watson's where you should also eat salmon soup) with And to drink: --Full Sail Pale --Cabernet Sauvignons from Walla Walla, Walla Walla Vintners or Leonetti preferably --Zeitgeist or Bauhaus double espresso To finish --hand shaven noodles at Shanghai Garden

Jamaican Rum Punch Another take on the rhyme 1 of sour (fresh lime juice) 2 of sweet (Kelly strawberry syrup, simple syrup, dash of grenadine) 3 of strong (Appleton's, Sangster's, or Overproof) 4 of weak (water and crushed ice) From Robb Walsh's "Traveling Jamaica With Knife Fork and Spoon."

Well not quite but sort of. The charming and marvelous Sylvia Pryzant, owner of Four Story Hills Farms in Pennsylvania is raising chickens in the style of the Bresse chicken. She doesn't have a website. Here's an article about the chickens: http://www.post-gazette.com/columnists/200...rubin0810p1.asp

I was pawing through "Saveur Cooks Authentic American" tonight and rediscovered the drinks section at the back. In it is the Americano: 3 oz. Campari 3 oz. Italian sweet vermouth Soda water 2 orange slices An Americano is served on the rocks with orange slices on the rim.

My favorite time to eat vidalias is when there are no walla walla sweets around.

Thank you all. Read most of this thread aloud while eating smoked brisket and pork shoulder. Tears seasoned the meat.

Maybe this would do the trick? http://www.cardserv.com.au/myweb/images/Propeller_hat.jpg

Love the cherries. I've soaked a teaspoon of sour cherry jam, in which the cherries are whole, in a tablespoon of gin, added that and gotten a double benefit, preserved cherry garnish and a touch of sweetness.

Well in my case, I respond this way because I like his take on food: casual humble serious and informed. I'll miss him. Just because Grimes left and there was ahem a maybe less than apt interim critic it doesn't seem to me. . . breaking news, my wife says it's a promotion. Hats off to that.

It's been a rocky time over there but damn. . . did that really have to happen?

WD-50 makes a more than passable aviation. Does anybody have an opinion about rocks or up? I made the drink based on hearing about it from a friend. I went out and got Maraschino, test tubes and a densimeter, squeezed some lemons. . . so on and so forth, served it over ice. I kind of like it that way. Less fussy. Just have to be sure to drink it fast. I use Maraska (found it at Sherry-Lehmans) . As far as sweetness goes, my take is that one ought to err on the opposite side of it. Best to keep the simple syrup on the shelf. Wonder how a meyer lemon would do rather than a regular one?

I’ve hunted around the site looking for a long and lauditory thread on Kai but have not found anything. Maybe this will be the beginning of that thread. Kai is owned by the Itoen tea company and is located above their tea store on Madison Avenue between 68th and 69th streets. The name Kai is short for Kaiseki, a Japanese term that describes an aesthetic of cooking and eating. The word itself means warm stone and refers to the keeping of a warm stone in one’s pocket while eating vegetarian food. Back in the day (maybe even now, I don’t know) Japanese felt that a vegetable-only meal will make the eater feel cold. (Thanks to Chika of Chikalicious for explaining this to me) It is my impression that Kai interprets kaiseki loosely. They serve plenty of fish and meat and have four menus: a five course, eight course, nine course and an a la carte menu. Teas accompany some of the courses. In my five visits, the food, service and portioning has been consistently excellent. At nearly every visit we have eaten the eight course tasting menu. Most recently it went as follows. For amuses, there was a geleed cube of seaweed and dashi with japanese horseradish, to me interesting because the gelee was cloudy and greenish. This largish (3/4 to an inch square) gelee cube is a signature at Kai. On other visits it has had uni suspended inside with no seaweed. On the plate also was a tiny salad of asparagus in yuzu vinaigrette, edamame in preserved tofu sauce and octopus with a dab of surprising sharp horseradish. The consommé is a high point in the meal. The broth is incredibly delicate dashi with seaweed and other treats to be discovered inside, topped with a little gold leaf. In the past there has been a wafer-thin slice of yuzu aromatizing the bowl. Most recently the broth contained an intriguing vegetable called Jun Sai. It was probably the Jun Sai that got me sitting down writing this post. It's like nothing I've ever put in my mouth and is kind of hard to describe. It is tiny branches encapsulated in gelatinous something or other, like the seeds in passion fruit but tasting like watermelon or cucumber and with very little sweetness. Light, eerie, like tiny jellyfish plants, they hang in the broth neither floating nor sinking. Jun Sai are harvested from lakes in Japan and are seasonal delicacy. I don’t wonder why. For sashimi they often serve Japanese mackeral called Aji, also known as horse mackerel. The other day there was a tiny squid that, when bitten into, revealed that she was in a family way. Roe squirted into my mouth, rich and powerfully flavored. My partner in crime found this off-puttingly strong. I thought it was heavenly. The palate cleanser is a granite that changes all the time but often has shiso and to my palate is usually too sweet. Still, the granite is hand-shaven, a nice touch, and always features a bright contrast of citrus and herb. The entrees are a all hits. Last fall my favorite was braised beef tongue and seared foie gras with baby brussel sprouts, enoki mushrooms and other vegetables in a light, clear, beef stock-based sauce. Black cod, either cooked in salt crust or steamed, maybe depending the time of year, is the obvious choice on a first visit to Kai. The fish is moist, robust and pure white. In a weird sort of way it reminds me of the cured sea bass they’ve had recently at Russ and Daughters. New on the menu is a dish called “Ayu riverfish meuniere with yuzu vinaigrette”. A contemporary Japanese interpretation of the French classic sole meuniere, it’s very good but I would have liked it better if they’d kept more strictly to source of the inspiration for the dish. The dessert plate distinguishes itself by avoiding sweetness and fattiness. It is a refreshing end to what is usually a pretty long meal. Sesame panacotta, pure white and very toasty is always on the menu. Also found are green tea cheesecake and red bean gelee. We always drink the same bottle of wine with this meal: Rudi Pichler’s 2001 Gruner Veltliner for 48 bucks. Seems to me an excellent value. If it isn’t, please don’t anybody tell me. I can’t get enough of this restaurant. They are seldom full and I strongly recommend sitting at their eponymous sushi bar. The the charming chefs working there are mild-mannered, calm and willing to answer all your questions about their rare ingredients and preparations.

Secret handshake? In any case, I missed all the after parties. The previous night was kind of a late one thanks to the chef's night out event. All that tequila (and rum and gin) transitioned to beer and by five in the morning I found myself at the stove putting together breakfast for three: sweetbreads with poached egg and sopressata served on wilted romaine. So when the awards ended and I'd gotten my feed on, been shoved aside by Mario Batali's wife(?) while hailing a cab for my very pregnant wife, I headed for home. Probably missed some fun hunh?

Acch, too bad. I saw those shortribs on a plate or two, went looking for them but was ultimately overwhelmed by the crowds.

I had the pleasure of attending both chef's night out on Sunday and the awards ceremony last night. I was standing in for Scott Carsberg at Lampreia in Seattle. There is much that can be said about who could have won and who did end up winning. I'll leave that alone for the moment, except to say that, and forgive me for sounding naive, it seems that the food world, at least as it pertains to the Beard awards, is not without its politics. At chef's night out, there were a variety of producers flogging their wares. Mostly the usual suspects, except one, a mezcal producer that can be found at mezcal.com. Apparently available at Astor place wines. They were tasting seven or eight extraordinary mezcals and as well as a mixed drink, made from mezcal, creme de mezcal, cilantro, lime juice and probably a couple of other things that I can't remember thanks in no small part to all the mezcal. . . whoo boy. And if the quality of the mezcal isn't enough, the producers (or distributers?) are some sort of incorporated township in Oaxaca. So you can support some hardworking people while buying excellent mezcal. The following night immediately after the awards guests and nominees were released to a giant hall full of latin-themed food. At the top of my list in there was pig roasted in a caja china. It was served on top of a bean puree and sauced with a shallot, cilantro vinaigrette. Moist, tender, tasty. It makes me wonder where those pigs grew up. Alas, Scotty didn't win. I think he should have, but I'm just one guy with an opinion.

The aviation at wd-50 is just a little better than the one at Milk and Honey. No difficult reservationism required. Just drop in. Then eat the terrine of foie gras with sardines. You can get maraschino at sherry-lehman and for a little less you can get it at that crazy discount food warehouse importer thingy in New jersey. In re mixologists. I like the nat king cole bar at the st. regis. Don't know either of the fellow's names and frankly it's been a year or so. . . still worth it. If you can get the number, a friend always takes me there, Milk and Honey is killer. Any drink you can think of, they have a pretty good chance of blowing your mind. Their martini is defining.