russ parsons

has anyone else had a weird experience with using raw figs in ice cream? a couple of years ago (well, maybe more like 10 or 12), i made a semifreddo with fresh figs and mascarpone. tasting the batter, it was absolutely delicious. after it froze overnight, though, it was very bitter. i figured it was the fig enzyme on the milk.

when my wife and i were sick with some kind of stomach thing this winter, we ate gallons of tapioca. i couldn't believe how delicious it was (of course, i hadn't eaten anything solid in about 2 weeks).

i'm afraid the times lawyers disapprove. but there is a chapter on it in "french fry"

if you're in the russian river valley, you MUST eat dinner at The Farmhouse (full disclosure, a buddy of mine's wife owns it). but seriously, one of the best meals i had last year. the chef is really on top of it: creative without being silly. ingredients are great. wine list is phenomenal.

good replies all. i did a story about this several years ago: my summer in pies, where i spent the entire summer trying to get a basic pie crust right. i finally did ... well, pretty much. the real answer is that the only way to make a good pie crust is to make a lot of bad ones. it's a pure technique thing, rather than a typical recipe/ingredient thing. practice, practice, practice. oh, and one weird tip on rolling that i've never seen anyone else mention. maybe this is just me, but i realized about mid-July that when i was rolling out the crusts, i was pushing down on the dough. make sure you're rolling across the dough, stretching it, rather than pushing down, flattening it. for me, it came down to holding my elbows in against my body rather than out. i know that sounds weird, but try it both ways and you'll see how it affects your rolling.

the santinis are wonderful people. i've spent a couple of days in their kitchen and it really is a home-style place ... albeit at a three-star level. mama bruna still makes all the pastas and risottos, though i'd have to say that daughter-in-law nadia is the real soul of the food at this point ... a completely self-trained, very instinctual cook with a great sense for getting the most from simple flavors. antonio is responsible for the overall quality of the place. son giovanni is coming up ... the last time i was there he was still in cooking school.

we almost went there friday night on the very strong recommendation of the woman who owns the glass store next door. we opted for the familiar, though, and went to zuzu. as good as your meal sounds, i can't say i am sorry we made that choice. zuzu was terrific, again. almonds, olives, heirloom tomato salad, grilled sardine, shrimp in garlic butter, salt cod, peach and arugula salad, peach fritter and a chocolate pudding sort of thing. two glasses of champagne, four glasses of rose and a glass of oloroso afterward. with a very generous tip, $135. we ate at the communal table upstairs (no reservations) and it was fun sharing food with the other people, including a couple of honeymooners and two women who appeared to be just out of high school but ate with great zest. how lucky you are two have two such great restaurants in the same block.

it was a mix of old favorites and some new things. (hurriedly typed, without thomas' annoying quotation marks) In the garden: Assorted canapés: salmon cones, “bacon and eggs”, etc. 1990 Veuve Cliquot “La Grande Dame” in magnum “Oysters and Pearls” (Thomas) Takasago Shuzo Sake “Ginga Shisuku-Divide Droplets” Rock Shrimp Tempura with Santa Rosa plum, preserved Meyer lemon and Tahitian Vanilla Fragrance And Black truffle explosion with broccoli puree, applewood-smoked bacon and Parmigiano-Reggiano (Grant Achatz) 2001 Hirtzberger Riesling “Singerriedel” (Austria) Summer potato salad with barbecue vinaigrette and pickled celery ribs (Mark Hopper) and Sashimi of blue-fin toro with geoduck claim ceviche, cucumber gelee and ama hito sea salt (Ron Siegel) 2002 Peter Michael Chardonnay “La Carriere” Butter poached Maine lobster tail with sweet cherry tomatoes, crispy fleur de courgette and pistou (Jonathan Benno and Joshua Schwartz) 1996 Coche-Dury Meursault Sauteed moulard duck foie gras with a pave of pickled watermelon, upland credss and tellicherry pepper gastrique (Gregory Short) 1997 Chateau d’Yquem in Imperial “Duck, duck Goose” (Jeffrey Cerciello) 1994 Calera Pinot Noir “Jensen Vineyard” in magnum Grilled Snake River Farms calotte of prime beef served with caramelized garlic, baby leeks, crispy shiitake mushrooms and bordelaise vinaigrette (Eric Ziebold) 1994 Abreu Cabernet “Madrona Ranch” in magnum Roquefort with bing cherry compote, garden herb salad and thyme infused extra-virgin olive oil (Matthew Walsh) 1999 Turley Cellars Zinfandel “Turley Estate” in magnum Berry Treasure farm strawberry sorbet with a Madeleine au citron et aux fruits d’ete, balsamic bianco gelee and Kendall Farm crème fraiche (Sebastien Rouxel) And “Coffee and Doughnuts” (Francisco Migoya) 1994 Far Niente “Dolce” in magnum 1994 Zind-Humbrecht Pinot Gris “Clos Jebsal” SGN (I don’t remember these two wines) 1954 Barbeito Madeira Theobroma (Stephen Durfee) 1983 Dow and Fonseca Ports i'd say my favorite courses were the oysters and pearls, of course, the sashimi, the lobster, the foie, the goose and the beef. well, that's about half the menu. all three desserts were great and i really appreciated being awake and sober enough to taste them for a change. my favorite wines were the meursault and the calera pinot.

it was fun. i sat next to thomas' dad, the 82-year-old former marine. amazing guy worked his way up from buck private to captain ... any of you with any military in your background will know what an accomplishment this is. like a really tough self-made millionaire. talked about saturday white-glove inspections at home ... i understand thomas a lot better now!

i drove up for saturday night. really a special meal for family and friends. lots of chefs who had worked there came back. lots of different cooks, so perhaps the food didn't have that diamond-like sparkle of the laundry at its best, but more than made up for by the spirit and the company.

hmm, i do think it varies greatly according to producer and variety. i have to say that for the most part, i've found peaches to be lacking this year. most of them don't seem to have the depth of flavor or the acidity that i want in stone fruit. nectarines, which tend to be a little tarter anyway, seem to be a little better. putting on my fruit wonk hat, i think it probably has to do with the unusually mild winter we had, which didn't give the trees enough dormancy. art lange explained it to me and it has something to do with dormancy encouraging the production of some plant hormone or something. but the main point is correct and important: that the best farmer growing the best varieties in the best place in the best ways can still produce fruit that is less than spectacular depending on the vagaries of the weather. it's not an easy business

i used to have that problem, too. one thing that might be overlooked is how you bread them: put a LOT of crumbs in a wide bowl. put the egg-washed scallop on top. mound bread crumbs over. press firmly to coat. lift and gently shake off excess. refrigerate 30 minutes or so to let the "glue" set. cook over moderately high heat, lots of butter/oil.

sorry, didn't see this earlier. but yeah, what he said. unfortunatley, it is one of those frustrating timing things, like aging wine: at first things can't go fast enough, then once it gets going, you kind of wish it would slow down.

absolutely. i get tired of hearing myself say it, but it really is a matter of being able to tell the difference between embellishment and improvement. when you've got an absolutely perfect product (like a peach or a tomato), it's hard to think of something that will actually make it better.

i know next to nothing about indian cooking, but i made a version the other day with chopped radishes, curry leaves and cashews. it may be incorrect, but i really liked it.

in another group i participate in that includes a lot of authors there is something called BSP (blatant self-promotion). at the risk of indulging, my story yesterday was on two stellar peach farmers, Art Lange and Fitz Kelly. you might find it amusing (or maybe not, and that's fine, too). main story sidebar

mr. molto, you seem to be able to almost effortlessly (seemingly) spin off one restaurant after another, contrary to most foodie's vision of a single dedicated guy slaving in a single kitchen. do you think there's a limit to the number of outlets one chef can manage? is there some limit beyond which either you or your universe might begin to implode? what are the limiting factors in opening new outlets--either organizational or artistic? best as always, rp

onions are one of my favorite things in food science. they are such a basic ingredient, but it is only within the last 20 years or so that science has progressed far enough to begin to understand what is going on with them. much is still unknown. essentially, and (i hope) briefly: onion cells contain a mix of chemicals. when you cut an onion or otherwise disrupt the cell wall, those chemicals combine which sets of a long chain or reactions that end up in the lachrymator factors which, when mixed with the mucous in the eye, turn to a type of sulfuric acid. one of the scientists i talked to once described it as a "cascade of chain reactions that happen in the blink of an eye." a really arresting metaphor from a geek, no? another interesting fact about onion chemistry (see, now you've got me going), is that the so-called "sweet" onions (vidalia, walla walla, texas 10 150 maui, et al), aren't actually any sweeter than regular brown storage onions. in fact, they frequently contain less sugar. what makes them taste different is that they are markedly lower in LFs than other onions. BUT ... and it goes on ... it's important to remember that LFs are volatile at very low temperatures (which is why they turn to gas on the cutting board and go up into your eye). cook them and the LFs go away almost completely ... SO ... cooking a sweet onion is a waste of a premium ingredient.

and if you look closely, you'll see a trace of a milky liquid in the water ... that's the chemicals that lead to the tearing reaction (fun fact: they're called "lachrymator factors"). blanching would be most effective, but it would soften the texture of hte onion. the cell walls are extremely fragile. even hot water will soften them. something else htat works is soaking the onion in vinegar (like mexican onion pickles). the acetic acid overshadows the sulfuric acid.

Great choice! Why would you choose him? What would you ask him to teach you?? i've been fascinated by point every since i read joseph wechsberg's piece about visiting la pyramide. i've always thought of him as the anti-careme, or the anti-escoffier who began moving cuisine away from rote dishes and manipulated garnishes (well, at least temporarily).

hey, that's who i stole my recipe from, too! (francesconi, collected in grande enciclopedia della gastronomia illustrata ... a really wonderful book that is too difficult to find).

i don't presume to know enough about fine chinese cooking to comment on the relative merits. but i do have in my hot little hands the new edition of chinese food finder: los angeles by the estimable carl chu. he has really done an amazing job of organizing the various regions and which restaurants in la/sgv represent them best.

point, father of 20th century cooking.

i did a recipe when the movie came out, adapted from la cucina napoletana. to me it was much more of a novelty than anything i'd ever make again (uh, never did, actually). but i did learn a couple of really good dishes from it--a wonderful dark-braised beef (progressively cooked in tomato paste and wine) and a nice pasta sauce with peas and pigeon. why you'd want to combine them with a half-dozen other things is something i never have understood. i did go to a dinner party a lunatic cook friend through where she cooked three (count'em) timpani. for 6 guests. oy vey. must have been like 3 days cooking.

it's also interesting that in cajun cooking roux isn't used so much as a thickener as as a flavoring. a deeply browned roux will have very little thickening effect (dextrinization of the starch, if i remember correctly), but it will have a very pronounced taste. one wonders who the first cook that learned that was and what were the circumstances? did a really bad cook scorch a roux and folks decided they liked the taste? or did a really good cook progressively push the browning? weird stuff.