russ parsons

That's not my field jat. I'd suggest you contact our Culinary SOS column.

In the introduction to my book ("How to Read a French Fry" now out in paper and available at bookstores near you [was that blatant enough?]), I said that writers are magpies and will steal from anyone. I believe that quite firmly. That said, and taking a deep breath because I know I'll leave someone out, here are the people I never miss: Janet Fletcher in the SF Chronicle, Amanda Hesser and Johnny Apple in the "other Times", Candy Sagon in the Washington Post (she and I were on staff together at the Lubbock Avalanche-Journal 25 years ago!), Jeff Steingarten in Vogue and Colman Andrews in Saveur. Those are teh regularly appearing writers, even after being in the food writing biz 20 years, I'm still amazed at how I can pick up a copy of Gourmet (for one example) and find an amazing writer I've never heard from before. As for role models and mentors ... I guess No. 1 would have to be Ruth Reichl who hired me at the Times and was the first big-deal food person who believed I had something to contribute. Michalene Busico, the current editor, is probably the best line editor I've ever worked with. It's scary that she sometimes understand my writing better than I do. Madeleine Kamman was a great inspiration to me when I started writing. I took a professional class with her and it opened my eyes to a whole set of a stories I hadn't thought of before. The same with Paula Wolfert, when she told me I'd led her to rethink something she was cooking, that was as high a praise as I've ever had. Phyllis Richman befriended me when I was at the ABQ Tribune and has been like the big sister I never had, always completely supportive and yet very direct in her criticism (a Phyllis "uh-huh" is usually more damning than a couple of pages from anyone else). Deb Madison has been a friend for more than 20 years and was very important in my finding my cooking style. And, of course, The Big Role Model, Julia, who is a constant source of instruction in how to live a happy, involved and contributing life no matter what the age. Jeez, that's beginning to sound like an Oscar speech. Maybe I'd better quit now.

I am not a great traveller, I've probably spent more time in Fresno over the last couple of years than I have in Manhattan. But I do try to keep up. So I'll try to answer that question based on what may well be some half-baked assumptions. The Los Angeles dining scene has been on a roller coaster since ... well, maybe since there was one. Before the '84 Olympics, the assumption was that Los Angeles was a culinary wasteland. About that time we started getting some notice for restaurants like Spago, Trumps, Michaels, Valentino, etc. Some of these were good restaurants, some of these (not these specifically, the scene in general) benefited from the "talking dog" syndrome: At first, the news is the dog can talk, only after a while do you start paying attention to what he's saying. And in truth, there were a lot of restaurants that weren't saying a whole helluva lot ... same as any other town. But the culinary media, having built LA up, moved on to teh second wave, tearing it down. At about the same time (we're talking early '90s), Los Angeles was hit by an almost Biblical visitation of pestilences. We had earthquakes, we had fires, we had riots. And we had a horrific recession caused by the collapse of the military-industrial complex that fueled so much of the middle class here (we're not all in THE business). Bottom line: the house I bought in 1992 only regained its original worth in 2001. Fine dining is the most disposable of income expenditures. It only took one or two restaurants hitting the rocks before everyone pulled in their horns. We ended up with a lot of people following the Spago mold of casual dining, and casually good food ... except I think that a lot of restaurants learned that that is a pretty difficult act to pull off consistently. Things are looking up in fine dining now, I think. The success of Bastide, a really fine restaurant that makes absolutely no compromises (not open for lunch, not open on weekends, all-French wine list, no BYOB), bodes well. To me, the real glory of Los Angeles dining, though, is not the big-deal restaurants but what we used to refer to as "ethnic". The Japanese restaurant scene here has exploded and there are terrific places (if you live around here, you ought to check out the South Bay, Western around the Toyota and Nissan offices). The same with Thai (Thai Town), Chinese (San Gabriel Valley, for god's sakes), Indian (Artesia), Vietnamese (OC), and Korean (Koreatown). I am constantly going to these places, having amazing, beautiful food for under $50 a person and coming out wondering how in teh world does a fine dining restaurant compete at three times the price?

Jeez, I'd say that's two or three of the most pointed questions. And good ones. Let me do my best: First, my participation in the Gullet is strictly voluntary, a combination of logorrhea and working at home (or trying to avoid working at home ... sure beats free cell). Other journalists may feel different. I don't view my participation as quid pro quo for my occasionally getting story ideas. I do think there's a tremendous misimpression about what journalists do and how they do it: when I was editing the section, I was always amazed when people would bring me to task for not having covered their event. I would ask: Did you send us a note to let us know? Well, no, you're the Los Angeles Times, you should know. That's not how it works. How it works is this: Journalists (well, good ones, or at least hard-working ones) are the Great White Sharks of information. We are compulsive consumers. We read other newspapers, we read magazines, we read books, we watch television shows, we eavesdrop at restaurants, we talk to friends and we read online message boards. We view any of those as legitimate ways to get story ideas. Two things: Most journalists have to file at least a story a week (some of my colleageus at smaller newspapers, are now choking on their coffee ... when I was food editor at the Albuquerque Tribune in the early '80s, I edited the section, wrote a cover story, wrote a column, wrote a weekly restaurant review, and was the local rock critic). We NEED story ideas. Which leads to Item No. B, I think I can speak for most journalists when we say that we don't think the story idea is the same as the story. For us, the real work is teh reporting, verifying, writing and editing of the piece. So if someone writes about the El Bulli cookbook on this board and I then write about it (to use a real-life example), I certainly don't think I've ripped anyone off. After all, you had nothing to do with the four or five interviews and certainly not with the 2,000 words (or the whacking down to 1,200 or whatever). Neither do I feel obliged to reveal where I first heard of the story. I don't do that when I hear about a good story at a dinner party, so why should I with this? That said, I do draw the line at quoting people from the board without first verifying what they said and making sure they want to be quoted on it. I think Steve Klc will attest to that. There were a lot of questions in there, did I get to most of them?

David is a very good friend of mine and one of the most passionate eaters I know. Contrary to what you might expect, almost all of his grand adventures are self-funded. Almost unique among food writers, he's been doing this stuff for the last 20 years only because he likes it (a short stint several years ago as restaurant critic at, I believe, GQ excepted). This is not a case of Johnny Apple one-man-cost-center. I suppose I can understand why some people don't care for this approach. For myself, as someone who does NOT live the culinary high-life, I find it kind of fascinating. Not that I'd want to do it myself. Let me also point out for those of you who don't follow the Times, David is our Pulitzer Prize-winning media critic and has taken on his own paper on some fairly serious issues, something that takes a fair amount of ... well, rocky mountain oysters. Best burger? So subjective. I have to say I've always found both the Apple Pan and Pie 'n' Burer disappointing, but I recognize that I am nearly alone in that. My choices are mainly local, as burgers are not something I travel across town for. Since local for me means Long Beach, I'll pick the one at Jongewaard's Bake 'n' Broil (get the special and have a wonderful piece of pie, too). For fast food, I don't think In'n' Out can be touched. It's enough to give hope to fast food.

mark, i obviously am in awe of your expertise, but i had a question about riesling. a while ago at the french laundry (name dropping), i was served a riesling that i thought was too warm (not warm, but cool, not icey). i remarked on this to a friend who is in the trade (wine, that is), because in my experience, it is really rare for them to make a mistake in wine service. he told me the mistake was mine, that great rieslings should not be served well chilled, that they have enough acidity that they can be served cool and still be crisp, plus getting all the floral components. what say you?

caveat: matt is one of my closest friends. that said, he is a rarity in wine writing: someone who actually writes as if it were a subject worth thinking about rather than a sub-category of baseball card collecting. i guess that might make him old-fashioned.

i'm a food wine guy. the only ones i collect are mayacamas and stony hill. if you can find it, you also ought to try the melville chardonnay "inox". rich santa rita hills fruit, pure stainless steel fermentation. really a nice wine.

you probably won't be surprised that we hear about the supposed westside bias all the time. but the hard facts of life are that restaurants follow the money and there's just a greater concentration of spendable money on the westside than anywhere else. it's the same situation in new york with manhattan. we do try to hit a lot of areas and, frankly, probably the bias works as much in reverse as anything else. since we are so conscious of the perception, we work doubly hard to find worthy places in outlying areas and maybe give a break to some that aren't quite so worthy every once in a while. as someone who lives in long beach, i wish there were more better restaurants here, but there simply aren't. frenchy's is fun, but compared to restaurants on the westside, it's a neighborhood spot (not that there's anything wrong with that). my wife and i go to 555 steakhouse a lot because i like their wine list. it's been reviewed. what's left? when you multiply this situation by the various "microclimates" in los angeles--the valley, the SGV, orange county, the far valley, malibu ... not to mention the inland empire, palmdale, etc., it's a tough situation. and i'd like to point out that today's main restaurant review is downtown. also, i am not speaking as an official spokesperson for the times. just my two bits as someone who's been in the trenches.

i did a column on that recipe a couple of years ago and couldn't remember where the recipe came from (i did remember it was brillat-savarin, but couldn't find it anywhere). after the fact, responses came flooding in. i think the statute of limitations on this has run out, so i'm including some of the letters: The spinach recipe that you recall ("The Amazing Shrinking Leaf," Feb. 3) has always fascinated me. It comes from M. F. K. Fisher's translation of Brillat-Savarin's "The Physiology of Taste." --LOUISE PINCUS Pacific Palisades * A complete description of the method for the five-days-and-pound-of-butter spinach can be found in Roy Andries de Groot's "Feasts for All Seasons" (Knopf: 1966). --MARILOUISE M. ZAGER Los Angeles * The recipe incorporating the pound of butter was originated by the late Fernande Point, owner/chef of Le Pyramide restaurant in Vienne, France. --JOHN CACAVAS Beverly Hills * The spinach recipe in question can be found in "The Husband's Cookbook," by Mike McGrady (Lippincott: 1979). This is really a good book. --NANCY MANDOKY Venice * Editor's Note: It took some sleuthing, but with the help of our resident food historian Charles Perry, we finally tracked down the recipe. It has been reprinted many times, including all of the above examples. Most notably, in his "Feasts for All Seasons," published in 1966, De Groot (who may have been a better writer than a historian) reprints the entire recipe in a somewhat heightened version of Brillat-Savarin's words before offering an alternative method. The problem with authenticating it is that though it is usually credited in a general sort of way to Brillat-Savarin, it does not appear in his only book on food, "Physiology of Taste." The earliest instance of the story we could find was in Elizabeth David's "French Country Cooking," published in England in 1951. According to David, the recipe comes from Jeanne Savarin, who published the recipe in the weekly magazine La Cuisine des Familles, in August, 1905. (edited to include the original recipe, as translated by david) "The Abbe Chevrier, contemporary of my great-great-uncle (Brillat-Savarin), left a reputation in Bresse for being the perfect gourmet; he and Brillat-Savarin were the best friends in the world; the Abbe, however, did not always disclose his culinary secrets to Brillat-Savarin. "Amongst other delectable things, Brillat-Savarin was excessively intrigued by the spinach cooked in butter of the Abbe Chevrier. 'Nowhere,' he used to say, 'does one eat spinach, simple spinach cooked in butter, to compare with his. What can be the secret?' Brillat-Savarin's mind was finally put at rest; he discovered the famous secret. Here it is. " 'On Wednesday (for Sunday) choose your spinach, young leaves, neither too old nor in flower, of a good green and with their middle ribs. In the afternoon clean the spinach, removing the stalks and wash it carefully. When it is tender, drain it in an enamel or china colander; drain out as much water as possible by pressing the leaves firmly down in the sieve; then chop them finely. " 'Now put them in a pan (enamel or glazed earthenware) with some fine fresh butter and put on to a very low fire. For a pound of spinach allow 1/4 pound of butter. Let them cook gently for 30 minutes, then take them off the fire and let them cool in the same pan. They are not to be served today. " 'Thursday: Add another 1 1/2 ounces of butter to the spinach, and cook again for 10 to 15 minutes over a very low fire; again leave them to get cold; they are not to be served yet. " 'Friday: Exactly the same operation as the previous day; the same quantity of butter, the same length of cooking. Do not be tempted. " 'Saturday: Again the same operation as Thursday and Friday. Beware of temptation; the spinach will be giving out a wonderful aroma. " 'Sunday: At last the day for your expected guests has arrived. " 'A quarter of an hour before you intend serving the dinner, put the spinach again over a low flame, with two good ounces of butter, for 10 to 12 minutes. This time, take them out of their pan and put them in a warmed vegetable dish and serve them very hot. " 'In the course of five daily cookings, your pound of spinach has absorbed 10 1/2 ounces of butter. Such was the Abbe Chevrier's secret.' " David then notes: "As well as the 10 1/2 ounces of butter the spinach has absorbed, it has also reduced to practically nothing. It is certain that the butter does give the spinach a most delicate flavour, but it is advisable to cook at least 2 or 3 pounds if all this performance is to be gone through. The recipe is not one to be taken too seriously."

even without knowing which side you're on, it's easy to point out: "and vice-versa."

you beat me to it fifi. i've got nothing to add but those sugars are called oligosaccharides. and that in places where beans are eaten all the time a) they're never soaked; and b) their "side effects" are not known.

ooooh, ms. mochi (making an assumption that could be completely wrong). I'm so glad you brought that up. i was taught to eat sushi with my fingers, too. but i feel like a total idiot when i do it because everyone else is using sticks. even when i'm at an all-japanese place, i find this. is there a regional/class/other group difference in fingers and sticks? or is it a demonstration of dexterity (it is really something to see someone pick up a piece of sushi with chopsticks and then turn it upside down so they dip the fish and not the rice into teh soy; i'm in awe).

Kristin, or others: i have a question. i love sushi but am nowhere near as learned about it as most of you. one thing i have noticed, or think i have, is that in los angeles, nigiri styles seem to have changed some. it used to be that everywhere it was a point of pride that the fish was exactly the same size as the rice, or roughly. over the last couple of years, i've been going to more and more places where the fish is much bigger than the rice, so it kind of flops over at both ends in a way that i suppose could be found insouciant and charming. or maybe just sloppy. has anyone else noticed this? is there an explanation?

just for the record, i don't remember seeing anything in this thread saying anything like that. because some people enjoy upstairs more certainly doesn't mean that downstairs is bad. dining out is NOT a zero-sum game.

i read somewhere in teh last couple of years that it was better to cook the fat in a LOT of water so that it didn't color, then lift the duck lard off. i tried it. didn't think the fat was that much better than the other way, plus you didn't get any cracklings. so it wasn't. uh, never mind.

hey watch it bub, talk like that will get you banned from this bar.

i haven't. to be honest, i can't get past the same order: 3 tacos: tripas, al pastor and buche. well, i have ventured into the far-flung fields of asada and chorizo, just out of curiosity (very good). i swear, the tripas are like something you'd eat in a great restaurant. i don't know how they get that crusty fried quality to them, but they're delicious.

it's not strictly harbor adj., but i've been pushing Taco Loco like mad. It's in Long Beach on Magnolia between PCH and Anaheim (some harbor-related businesses!). one of the very best taco stands i've ever come across. great meats, great salsas, tortillas made while you wait. still, i can't seem to get any of our critics interested in it so you might as well run with it. who is your column for?

i'd also recommend bouchon in yountville (if you want to do a thomas keller theme weekend). or cafe zuzu in the town of napa.

i finally read the article this weekend and i have to say i don't really understand the reactions to it. part of being a chef these days is people asking you to cook special meals ... for fundraisers, to promote causes, etc. this was something she had been asked to do by slow food ... the dinner was thrust upon her, not the other way around. and anyone who thinks anyone should be able to scrounge a dinner for 60 at the last minute has obviously never been involved in one of these. it conjures up images of a) napoleon's army ravaging the countryside or b) loaves and fishes (and while some of alice's followers may claim divine powers for her, even they'd stop short of that). and what's that? slow food and poor planning mentioned in the same sentence? whoda thunk it?

one thing that hasn't been mentioned is that untrimmed pork butt is almost exactly the ratio of fat to lean that is necessary for making good sausages.

I don't know that it makes you weird, but it makes you not a fan of pastry. The last thing I want a pastry che,f who's capable of making an excellent short crust and pastry cream, to do, is to make a tarte with anything but the best possible fruit. what interests me about that statement is the assumption that we have to choose. why can't we have both? in fact, one day, i had lunch at cp cafe (medjool dates and tiny tangerines for dessert) and then dinner at fl (don't you love these initials). two completely different dining experiences, both as close to perfection as i've ever come. i'm not sure that i'd do that again, but only because i'd leave some time in between to recover.

alice is a very complicated case. she is not a chef and has always been very upfront in saying that. in a way, for someone who is such a radical influence in american cooking, she's very old-fashioned--she's a restaurant impressario. she provides the support and the guidance for what is a pretty remarkable place (and, rare among the people posting on this thread, it seems, i have eaten there several times ... my advice: go for the cafe). if you want to think of cp cuisine in a non-food context, try the craftsman movement (it's no coincidence that cp is an old bungalow). the idea is celebrating the beauty of unadorned products. this makes some people crazy, especially chefs who have devoted their careers to adornment, and to eaters who have come to equate adornment with good cooking. alice does come across as a bit strident in her preaching of this message. and preaching it is, since this style of cooking is a reflection of a deeply held world view rather than simple fashion. chez panisse succeeds because it is such a perfect encapsulation of this world view. like all the very best restaurants, there is no compromise. and even her friends sometimes rue the public position she has attained. it is unfortunate when one person becomes singled out as the representative for what may are doing--and many of them just as well or even better. i don't think anyone really sets out to be a folk hero--not bruce springsteen, not robert parker, not alice. and some handle it better than others. alice comes from a culture where it is viewed as an obligation to speak out as often as possible on issues she believes in. Others prefer to lead by quiet example. but i've been fortunate enough to have eaten in some really good restaurants over the last 30 years--everything from texas bbq shacks to some pretty fancy places. and i consider eating at chez panisse to be a privilege. a somewhat complicated one, perhaps, but a privilege nonetheless.

but paula, can you tell us if you liked it?