russ parsons

i see nothing contradictory about taking pride in your craft and working to please your customers. and while thomas is in a wonderful position now, after 30 years in the business, you can bet he served a lot of sauces on the side to get there. the kind of trust that exists between customer and chef at the french laundry that allows him to take the chances he does is a goal, not a given.

I have to disagree. The chef, at his most base level, is in it for him/herself. Of course, however, without customers all of the Ferran Adrias and Thomas Keller's of the world would be cooking at unknown diners in Alaska or dead of broken hearts. point 1: you're only cooking for yourself when you're cooking for yourself. if you're serving it to other people (and especially if you're charging them for it), then you'd damned sure better be sure they like what you're doing. point 2: i don't know adria, but i know thomas keller pretty well and there is no one who would dispute your point more than he. if the french laundry is the best restaurant in the country (as i believe it to be), it's due more to keller's fanatical, obsessive devotion to serving his customers than to his brilliant cuisine. of course, without the cuisine, it wouldn't be the FL, but without the devotion to his customers, it would be just another really good restaurant.

something that i think gets overlooked these days is that a chef works for only one purpose: to please you, the customer. to do that, he draws on all of the skills and experience he can. but in the end, he's a craftsman, not an artist (unless you want to extend your definition of artist to include thomas kinkeade or, say, christina aguilera). that is not to say that the customer is always right. special requests may require a chef to draw on his experience (and diplomacy) to advise you that that combination just isn't likely to be pleasing to you. but in the end, his goal is pleasing you, not satisfying his artistic demons.

boy, i have to admit i'm shocked. cunningham was james beard's assistant for the last decade or so. she didn't just edit the last fannie farmer, she edited all of them since the mid-80s (i dont have the editions in front of me to check). she was in the first group in the cook's hall of fame, i believe, back when that was going on. and her "baking" and "breakfast" books are classics. i guess she has always staked her territory as being "classic American home cooking," so if you're only interested in restaurant stuff or "ethnic" cuisines, i suppose she could have slid by you.

Thanks for the kind words. For me, the process of developing recipes and researching and writing stories is complicated and never seems to go the same way twice. Maybe if there's enough interest, someone will start a fresh thread, it seems like there are enough food writers who check in to make it interesting, even if they do tend to lurk quietly (and this means you, Paula Wolfert!). As pertains to this thread, let me say that I have rather mixed emotions about the whole thing. In the first place, to be perfectly honest, I really do hope that none of my recipes are totally original. I mean, if I'm doing something that nobody in the history of cooking has done before, I'm pretty sure there's been a pretty good reason for it. I'm always reading cookbooks, new and old, and am constantly inspired by them. When a specific dish is the result of that inspiration, I always give credit, no matter how much I've altered it in the process of making it mine. After all, I want my readers to be able to share a great book almost as much as I want them to be able to share a great recipe. With the Internet, there has been a major change in the way I feel about hte ownership of recipes I've created. It used to bug me when I saw recipes I knew were mine (specific language) that were reproduced without credit. Now, I take it as an homage. And, practically speaking, I figure I've already gotten paid for the recipe so what does it hurt if someone else uses it too. On the other hand, I really don't regard myself as primarily a recipe developer. I think my strength is as a writer who can explain and get people excited about cooking, rather than someone who comes up with new and unusual dishes (see above). I do have to say that I am still not so generous with facts. I take a lot of time and put a lot of pride in my research. And from time to time something will be reported in someone else's story that I know could really only have come from my work. I really do wish, in those cases, that people would be more generous about crediting sources.

That's why I think Bragg and the food critic in Connecticut are baffled by the sudden rush to judgement heaped upon them; it seems that what they did is common practice today. If this needs to be changed, why single them out? What Blair did was sit home and write fiction. That is different!! in my 30 years of working full-time at newspapers big and small, i have never, ever, known a writer to use any help beyond the assist in "reporting" a story (i.e.: you need 5 reax quotes from disparate geographical regions, someone helps collect them ... and then that is always credited with a "reported by" line at the end of the story). ghost writing is commonplace in the cookbook writing world, or, more specifically, the chef cookbook writing world. But let's not mistake that for journalism.

my understanding was that though olney did sue nelson, the case was settled out of court, meaning no precedent. further clouding the nelson issue is that his defense was that the recipes came from a class taught by james beard, who had given him permission to use them! (olney and beard were friendly)

as a first-person foamer (who frequently writes in the first person), let me say that while some of the best food writing is done in the first person, so is most of the worst. the problem is that the writer is usually the last person who is able to tell the difference. that's particularly true with beginning writers, who too frequently seem to be concerned more with expressing themselves than with writing for the reader. the thing to remember before writing the first "I" is that when you go into the first person, you are introducing yourself into the story as a character. you had better be interesting enough to deserve it. though most of us think we are, i'm afraid that's not true for most of us. and it should be noted that posting on the internet is not really the same as publishing in more traditional media. different expectations apply.

maybe it's just me, but the only cuisines i find boring/underdeveloped are the ones i haven't taken enough time to explore.

what about biba? i haven't eaten tehre in years. and also mai pham has a vietnamese restaurant in sacto, not really sure of the name, but she's a great cook.

usually i stay at the el bonita (yes, i know t hat's grammatically incorrect, it's run by french people). it's really affordable and if you stay in the new wing, some of the rooms are really, really nice. jacuzzi tubs, view of the fields behind, etc. i've also stayed at the bordeaux house and burgundy house in yountville. they are both fine. this last time i stayed at an inn of the two sisters place in yountville, don't remember the name, but really nice and conveniently located halfway between bouchon and french laundry. it's very close to petit logis, which also looked nice.

has anyone been to langer's recently? i was surprised the last time i went that the pastrami had been machine-sliced. i said something to the waitress and she came back with some story about "the chef thinks it tastes better that way, but he'll hand-slice it if you want." machine-sliced was still pretty good, but for the full fatty texture, you really need the hand-sliced. forewarned is forearmed.

i think actually two seasons are available. in fact, i just sent them to a friend for christmas. beware amazon, though, i ordered them in early november and they just shipped the second season at the end of feb. i understand from brit friends that the third season was a complete washout. honestly, it ws heading that way at the end of two.

with all due respect, that does seem to be a point about which reasonable minds are quite actively differing. i think what you're seeing is a "jerry springer" moment. while rants do thrill some of the crowd, they also seem to others to be gratuitous. as a publisher, for that is what you are, that is a decision you will have to make. in my experience, the harsher the criticism, the gentler the language should be. the most devastating critiques i've read have also been the ones couched in the most sympathetic tones. i think that holds true for all writers in all mediums, whether it is the new york times or the e-gullet front page.

without getting into the validity of either point, it does occur to me that what so many people are objecting to about steve's piece is exactly what he was objecting to in Regina's pieces. as someone who has complained before about the meanspiritedness and ad hominem vitriol that occasionally crops up on the board (usually, it seems to me, without protest), it's interesting that when the context switches from contributing poster (one of the crowd) to featured article (one of them, er, us), readers' perceptions change. even in such a subtle shift as this case, it's good to to be reminded that being published carries a certain responsibility. would that everyone remembered it.

without sounding too grandiose about the whole thing: one of the annual anniversary challenges for my wife and I is where to go to dinner. On this one night out of the year, anyway, we really prefer to go someplace where we're not known so we can eat by ourselves without having the chef come to the table to chat. After 20 years writing about food in one city, it gets harder and harder.

let's put it this way: you own an extremely competitive fairly low-margin business that depends on discretionary income (people don't HAVE to eat at expensive restaurants and there are many, many to choose from). You've got two portions of "something special" left. You can give it to the customer who has never been to your place before and will probably never be there again, or you can give it to the customer who regularly supports your business. which are you going to choose?

not to let the competition off the hook, but i'm curious as to your husband's reaction. do people really decide whether to go to a restaurant based upon whether other people are going? personally, i'd rather go someplace that had great food that nobody else was going to than to just another popular restaurant. of course, i may be misunderstanding the message ... or its intent.

my favorite korean restaurant in la is yong susan (sp?), it's on western near 8th. unbelievable, nearly perfect, cooking and best of all, a set menu. as someone who still hasn't figured out exactly what order dishes in a korean restaurant should be ordered, this is a real plus.

The oysters and pearl dish has egg in the sabayon, but could a member with the book verify that there is no butter? If that's the case, the dish has a very deceptively buttery taste. I now have a copy of the French Laundry Cookbook. As Schielke noted, butter is in the "Oysters and Pearls" dish, althogh not technically in the sabayon portion of the dish. However, the sabayon was indistinguishable from the sauce when I sampled the dish. There is not only the butter reference noted by Stone, but also the recipe for "Oysters and Pearls" (p. 23). The ingredients list includes, for the sauce "8 tablespoons (4 ounces) unsalted butter, cut into 8 pieces". This is for 8 servings, so it is approx. 1 tablespoon of butter per serving. The butter is whisked into the sauce piece by piece, with the reference to buerre monte noted by Stone being made in the recipe. sorry for the confusion and this distraction on what was a very interesting thread. i didn't mean to imply that there was NO butter in the oysters and pearls ... i doubt there's anything at the FL that's butter-free, including the salads. The original description of the basewas A BUTTER, which to me implies a flavored butter or a beurre montee. that's all.

in one over-ambitious trip last year, i did eat at both in the same day (well, lunch at the cafe). they were both utterly remarkable meals and both completely different. chez panisse is about products and direct flavor, a celebration of that which is natural. french laundry is about complexity and technique, improvement on hte natural. it's like the difference between plein air watercolor and rothko. one isn't better than the other and thank god we can choose.

what fun to read someone's first experience with the french laundry. almost like enjoying it again (6 or 7 years ago, snuck a last-minute reservation, sat on the patio in late september, watched the sun set over the garden, had one of the most remarkable meals of my life). i've been back over and over, thanks to a professional relationship with thomas that has become friendship. i don't have cabrales' depth of experience with three-stars, but i have to say that the fl is for me the most inspirational restaurant in america, the one that buoys me when i'm feeling cynical about the whole thing. you simply cannot believe the amount of effort and concentration that goes into making this restaurant work (which is not to say it is perfect ... there is no such thing and the more perfect you become as a restaurant, the more perfection people expect from you). I remember helping a galley slave prepare the red pepper powder one evening: start by slicing sheer slabs from red peppers ... honestly, 8 or 9 to the section ... then drying them on a silpat, then powdering them. all for a whimsical garnish. a couple of notes: as has been pointed out, the oysters and pearls is based on a sabayon, not on butter (one critique i've heard--and understand--is that the predominant flavor at FL is butter and cream ... "not that that's a bad thing" in my opinion. Personally, my all-time favorite dish at FL is probably the one cabrales didn't like as well--the cauliflower panna cotta with caviar. it's just a brilliant matching of unexpected flavors (i know, i should have eaten it at robuchon). the first time i tasted it, i immediately started laughing out loud. so delicious, so weird, so thomas. in my experience, the best way to eat at FL is in a large party. TK really responds. I remember one dinner for five where each of us got a different lobster course, each one pointing up a different aspect of lobster's flavor or texture. it was like a graduate course in lobster-ology. Jacques Selosse--bobby turned me on to this and it's the champagne i always start with. perfectly steely and minerally. meat courses--i, too, frequently feel let down by them, but i wonder how they would be if they came earlier in the meal? by the time the main meats roll around, i'm usually in for 10-12 courses and my concentration is flagging. i still think the worst job in cooking has to be pastry chef at the FL. I understand people's cynicism about the place, it has been hyped beyond any possible hint of reality. but i have to say that i have never been disappointed by it and the closer i get to it and the more often i eat there the more amazed i am by the consistency and the effort that goes into getting even the smallest things right.

i was in the valley last week and dined again at the french laundry, with this post lurking in the back of my mind. i think i understand what the original writer was saying and it's actually a fairly common experience. let me say at the outset that it is impossible for me to be impartial about this restaurant, it is probably my favorite in this country. also, thomas is a friend ... actually i edited him for two years. i have eaten at the laundry probably a dozen times over the last 3 or 4 years (and, yes, always paid for my meals). that said, i do find sometimes that palate fatigue is sometimes a problem. I've had 6-hour, 25-course meals that were absolutely remarkable in every way: intellectually challenging, yet utterly delicious. but i'd be the first to admit that after the first 10 or 15 courses, the attention begins to flag. no matter how great hte cooking is, by the main meats, i'm usually feeling a bit fatigued. i've always thought the worst job in cooking has to be pastries at the french laundry. my solution (and one i recommend highly), is to take a break in hte middle of the meal (or, for a really long meal, take 2 breaks) and walk around in the garden. get some fresh air, rub your hands on the herb plants. be sure to let the servers know the course before you plan to do this. i've been in the kitchen when a guest went to the bathroom just before a course went out and the entire parade of waiters for the table returned to the kitchen, the dishes were disassembled and then put backtogether with fresh sauces and garnishes when the diners were ready. thomas is insane, but in the very best way.

come to think of it, i'd also add georges blanc's new book on the cooking of old burgundy called simply "simple french cooking" in the English translation. everything i cooked from it had that old deep savor. i've cooked sporadically from what is called in english "the natural cuisine of georges blanc", and while i consider it probably the most beautiful cookbook ever published, the recipes were highly problematic.

easily patricia wells' book with robuchon.