Daniel Rogov

Almass and Nadia, Hi…. I'll have to stand with my argument that there is no true Indian cuisine, the various kitchens of the country being so diverse in character as to be sometimes almost unrecognizable in other parts. In fact, because each of the hundreds of sects and religions in India has a unique set of food regulations and taboos, there is probably no nation with as many diverse culinary styles. As Madhur Jaffrey so well points out, Hindus do not eat beef, Moslems do not eat pork and some Indians, in respect for the reverence-for-life principle not only abstain from all meat and fish but also eschew eggs because they represent potential lives. Kashmiri Hindus cook with the spice known as asafetida and frown on the use of garlic. Moslems from the same area rely heavily on garlic in their cookery and avoid asafedita. Even some of the vegetarians in the nation have a problem. The Jains from the area of Gujerat, for example, will not eat beets or tomatoes because their color reminds them of blood. Some Jains are so orthodox that they will not eat root vegetables because in pulling them out of the earth an innocent insect might die in the process. Going even a step further and still using Madhur Jaffrey as my source, at least several conquerors left very heavy imprints on regional Indian cookery. Goa, on the West Coast was ruled by the Portugese for 400 years and it was even those Europeans who introduced to the chili pepper to India. The Moghuls, who came to India via Persia in the 16th century, introduced the nation to the concept of cooking meat with yoghurt and fried onions. In truth, the only people who occupied India and failed to leave a mark on the dining habits of the people were the British. If there is a single common denominator to all of the foods of India it is the heavy and imaginative utilization of spices, those including asafetida, coriander, turmeric, cloves, cinnamon, cardamom, black pepper, nutmeg, ginger, saffron and cayenne pepper. But, as couscous, baked beans or humous cannot define a national or regional cuisine, neither can the use of spices.

Chris, Hi….. Considering that it is now 1:20 in the morning in Tel Aviv, I'll take the liberty of responding while "standing on one leg". First off, in my opinion, there is no distinct Israeli cuisine and (referring to my above posts) not even a distinct Israeli kitchen. I see no shame whatever in that, for considering the youth of the country, that the population (under 7 million) comes from more than 80 different countries, and that there has been little cross-over between the cooking styles that people brought with them, the country simply has not had time to develop a unique "style" of cookery yet alone a cuisine. Let's say that at this stage it’s a comfortable mélange of sometimes vastly different kitchens. True, we have gone far beyond that sad point when foreign food writers coming here could find nothing more to write about than the "fabulous Israeli breakfast", and there is a good deal of marvelous cookery to be found in various homes and restaurants. But thinking of a fusion of those people indigenous to the area and those who have come to it from other continents is simply not something that has even begun to come to pass. As to fusion, as I mention in my little talk, that's come to be a four letter word, too many cooks/chefs simply throwing together what they think at the moment will be a playful combination that happens to use different culinary styles. There are some true signs of fusion, those coming from chefs whose parents or grandparents immigrated and who have managed to (quite literally) fuse together their personal and familial backgrounds, fine training in French cuisine, and local ingredients. The very best example of a chef demonstrating the beauty of fusion is probably chef Chaim Cohen. As to specific dishes that might be thought of as truly Israeli at their source, I can think of only two – the halvah parfait (originally prepared by chef Tsachi Buchchester and now claimed by at least 25 chefs worldwide as their own!!!) and goose liver cooked on the grill (originated as long as thirty years ago in the steak-humous-shwarma joints (steakias in Hebrew) in Tel Aviv's HaTikva quarter. Those interested in gathering an idea of what Israeli chefs are doing these days may want to take a peek at my little book "The Diverse Israeli Table: Dining Out In Israel" that was published by the Israeli Information Center in Jerusalem. The book can be found online at http://www.stratsplace.com/rogov/israel/israeli_chefs.html On that note and now salivating comfortably in thought of grilled goose liver, to borrow a line from Samuel Pepys "and so to bed".

Nadia, Hello... You ask several questions, thus, several answers. As to what comprises a "cuisine" and what a "kitchen"… A cuisine is codified not necessarily by one person but by a collection of people and over time and that code has something akin to human cognition, that is to say in maintaining its integrity but developing over time and going through various and often hierarchical stages. More than that, within the country involved, that code is accepted, either with full awareness or simply by habit by the vast majority of the people. A "kitchen" on the other hand is more local, tends to shift its values over time for convenience sake and for whims rather than historical and has far less impact on the populace and their neighbors. A kitchen also depends on a far larger number of interpretations, this in a way preventing its true codification. In another way, a cuisine represents at least in part a philosophy of food while a kitchen presents primarily a series of dishes, some related others not. In a sense then, as there is an Italian cuisine there are the kitchens of Veneto, Puglia, Sicilia, Tuscany, Liguria, etc…… And, as there is a unifying code for French cuisine there are the kitchens of Provence, of Alsace, of Normandy, etc. I will say on reflection that in a country/area that has a true cuisine those regionals kitchens might be thought of a subsets of that cuisine. As French cuisine was codified by a host of chef/authors, so Italian cuisine had and has its codifiers, and those from the days of ancient Rome and the Etruscans through the Middle Ages, the Renaissance and until today. A book I highly recommend on this is Italian Cuisine: A Cultural History by Alberto Capatti and Massimo Montanari, published by Columbia University Press. Specifically with regard to Morocco, which sets a marvelous and often complex table, I'll stand with "kitchen" as opposed to "cuisine" and that based partly on the remarkable similarities between the kitchens of the various nations and people of the Maghreb. More than that, the perhaps undue influences placed on those countries by the foibles of history and varied conquerors and occupiers. Differences indeed exist but those subtle enough that by switching a few herbs and spices one might easily confuse one with the other. Let it be stated loudly and clearly that there is no shame or even "second-classness" whatever involved inn having a kitchen rather than a cuisine, the differences not at all reflecting on quality but on generalizability and specifity. As French, Italian and Chinese cuisine can be sumptuous and magnificent so can the kitchens of (for example) Moroccan, Syria, New Orleans, New England and Mexico. As to my personal background, let it be suffice to say that if so required I can too easily say "toity-toid street" and with no problem whatever could fall into "New Yawkeese". And yes, I am old enough to remember when the Dodgers were housed at Ebbett's Field.

Adam, Hi.... We are in agreement in that one of the great charms of Italian cuisine is the culinary diversity between various regions within Italy, the love of polenta in some areas, of rice in others of pasta in still others among the most obvious of examples. Despite this diversity there are certain binding elements between each of these sub-styles – those tracing back at least to the time of Rome and the use and even sophisticated use even then of grains, olive oil, olives, fresh fruits, vegetables and poultry that throughout Italy have always been readily accessible to most who could buy in local markets. And to those in the country of raising their own basics. Even in Roman times street-side stands both in cities and towns offered a wide variety of fare that existed throughout the empire – sausages, pastries and olives that were within the range of even the poor. Italian cuisine both unified and diversified by regions from let's say the 5th century BC until the 8th century AD. At that time the impact of Moslem Arabs brought a great many new foodstuff to Italy (e.g. rice, oranges, figs, spinach). What then solidified Italian cuisine even more was the way in which those were adapted to the local habits… and more than that, not only adapted but formalized and expanded upon. Going a step further, pasta is merely one aspect of Italian cuisine but what is truly common to all of Italian cuisine is the remarkable repertoire of sauces that developed. Some culinary historians feel that the development of sauces took on accelerated significance to Italian cuisine after the introduction from the New World of the tomato. There is truth to that but there is also a fallacy for what was critical to the integrity of the local cuisine was the manner in which tomatoes were used. As to the overall issue of diversity – all true cuisines hold quite enough potency that they almost must diversify. What binds as a cuisine however is a commonality that runs through not specific dishes but an overall attitude towards and preparation of many different dishes, no matter how diversified those might be. And, of course, durability. The same sausages, pastries and olives that were served to Roman legionnaires and in the market of Ancient Rome are the same sausages, pastries and olives that are offered today. And will be in five hundred years…..

John, Hi..... We are in agreement on this one. If the sommelier agrees in advance, and bravo to him/her if that is the case, you're in good ground.

Sorry to disagree on this one, but when you order a bottle of wine that is over 25 years old as this one is, tradition and good manners say, that you pay the price no matter what's in the bottle.

Michelle, Hi... There is no question but that the culinary arts of Turkey were raised to a high point during the heyday of the Ottoman sultans (1453-1650) and that dining was elevated into an art form, especially by those near to the inner sanctum of the palace. Going a step further, it is even evident that many dishes considered new at that time were introduced by the sometimes armies of chefs and assistants that inhabited the halls of the huge kitchens of the palaces. All of which, however, came together to create not a unique cuisine but merely (and merely in this case not a derogatory term but merely a descriptor) a more sophisticated kitchen than was found earlier. Referring to what I hypothesized and implied earlier, a true cuisine demands unique cooking methods, relies on the existence of at least some unique ingredients, and more than anything requires the development of a repertoire of dishes and culinary styles that are more than passing moments in history. It is undeniably true that due to the influence of the sultans and their armies in other countries (often in the form of conquests) that Turkish cooking methods and ingredients impacted enormously on the kitchens of the Balkans, Eastern Europe in general, the Middle-East and portions of North Africa but even as early as the 18th century those had become so diffused and changed within individual regions that any Ottoman originality had been lost. One can find a few restaurants in Turkey today (those concentrated in Istanbul and Izmir) that feature something called "Ottoman Cuisine". I have dined in some of those places. What remains of the Ottoman Empire in these places is décor and style but if one measures carefully, the Ottoman culinary influence is one that has become an diffuse kind of Turkish-French-Italian-Middle Eastern blend. On the other hand, do be aware that I value the Turkish kitchen highly, much as I do the kitchens of (e.g.) Iraq, Morocco and the Georgian Republic. Note, however, that I say "kitchens"…..not "cuisine"

Almass, Hello... On the development of distinct cuisines I am very much in agreement with historian Reay Tannahill who points out that the development of a true and/or unique cuisine depends only in part on geography, geology and climate. Factor into this the reliance crops that demand heavy rains or arid conditions, and yet others that require long, hot summers. To this add now questions of whether fuel is plentiful or scarce. And those determine only which raw materials will be available to the cook and perhaps how they might be cooked. To go a bit further we have to distinguish between the existing state of technology of various societies, how people perceive food within those societies, and the impact on the local table of conquerors, religious beliefs and taboos. Knowing that many refuse to eat the foods of those they consider their "enemies", we also have to ask just whom a given people or set of peoples love, whom they fear and whom they out-and-out despise. More than this, because the development can be fickle and because cuisines cannot develop in a vacuum, in asking whether a specific culture has its own distinct cuisine one must then also be aware that even when one locates an area that boasts a unique history, geography, demography and sociology there is still no guarantee that a unique cuisine will develop. Going a step further, cuisines never develop quickly. I would estimate that at least 1,500 years are required. As to why I include Italy in my trio of "true cuisines", let it be clearly understood that I am not going at all to the Medicis. I may (and I am aware of the arguments about this) credit the Medicis for their role in elevating what was a well developed but not yet unique French kitchen into a full cuisine. When it comes to Italy itself however, I go to the days of ancient Rome, for it was during those perhaps glorious, perhaps horrific (always depending on one's point of view) that Romans expanded not only their list in ingredients by conquering so much of the world but their repertoire of cooking methods and flavors. I agree with Careme's comment to the effect "Roman cooking was sumptuous, magnificent but fundamentally barbarous". It was, however, even then, the birthing ground for a true cuisine. To respond to another of your questions – I consider the dining habits of a people part of their culture and even perhaps part of their raison d'etre, but not part of the cuisine. When I speak of cuisine I relate entirely to food and drink and its preparation from the time it appears in seed form until it is placed on the table. After that all is a matter of good taste or bad taste. Unlike the tree that falls in the forest and has no-one to hear it, thus producing no sound, a cuisine exists even if there is no-one present in the world but those who create it. It may sound outrageous, but defining a cuisine is not dependent on having an appreciate audience. I am well aware by the way that much of what I say above is controversial. Fair enough, for we are not dealing here with fact. …Only with hypotheses. And if one's hypotheses cannot be outrageous, what in the world can?

Raxelita, Hello... The 1975 Lafite was always a "problematic" wine, having been drinkable quite early after its release and starting to show signs of premature aging 1985. Following are my two most recent tasting notes for the wine. The bottles from which I taste are usually from pristine storage conditions. That does not say of course that some bottles have survived better than those I tasted. Chateau Lafite Rothschild, Pauillac, 1975: A wine that might always have been categorized as excellent Bordeaux but not at all typical and perhaps not fully excellent Lafite and now clearly showing its age. Darkening in color, taking on a distinctly sweet cedar and green olive set of flavors that overlay the once rich but now not at all generous currant and tobacco. Past its peak and falling. Drink up. Current Score 86. (Lafite Vertical 18 Jul 1998) Chateau Lafite Rothschild, Pauillac, 1975: In regular format bottles this once good but never great Lafite is now so badly faded, showing signs of caramelization and aromas of balsamic vinegar. In magnum sized bottles not yet showing signs of extremis but with only the skimpiest of fruits and far too many herbal, earthy and green olive overlays. No longer scorable. (Re-tasted four times from regular format bottles and twice from magnums, 22 May 2003) As to price, a quick check reveals that the wine is selling in wine shops in North America and Europe for prices varying from the equivalent of US$ 150 – 400. I'm not sure if anyone is buying or not. Best, Rogov

I did make (and write) associations with even the worst kinds of paternalism, chauvinism, poverty and deprivation but truth is did not associate this thread with colonialism and/or war. I must admit that I also have a problem in understanding how those factors impact on how a style of cookery is accepted in other lands, especially in what we usually think of as the "restaurant scene"

I have also posted the following on the Middle Eastern and African section of egullet but because it relates to discussions currently in progress here and may have a wide interest, am taking the liberty of posting it here as well. Mishkenoat Sha'ananim, the organizer of the Tastes of the Mediterranean conference that took place several months ago has now posted the proceedings of the entire conference. The taped procedings, including each of the talks given can be viewed at http://web11.mediazone.co.il/media/mishkenot/150605/ Most of the talks are English but others are in Hebrew, Italian and French. Simply scroll down to find those that are of interest to you. (My own talk is there of course and I welcome feedback/questions or objections). Also posted are the recipes that were demonstrated by various chefs and those and still photos of the conference are found at http://www.mishkenot.org.il/programs.php?id=74& I think these talks will sum up far better than could I the nature and ambiance of the conference.

Try this one: http://www.stratsplace.com/rogov/israel/shavouth_2002.html

Two terms that have been used that might do well with a bit of clarification. "The frission with poverty"........might this not be more of a frission with what we perceive as simplicity, of what many of us at least occasionally like to think of as a return to the soil, to simpler times. It is true of course that by necessity simplicity and poverty walk hand in hand, but then again so do many other negative traits and I do not think it those with which we associate. Rather a desire to associate with or, perhaps, a romanticism associated with that simplicity. As to "sentimentalization", I too am opposed to that in the culinary realm but I am not opposed to romanticism and here again I wonder if it is not an almost natural function in these too hectic days to think of simplicity (see my above comments) as something to be longed for, perhaps as an escape from our too-too modern, too-too frenetic world.

Farid, Hi... After reading the entire thread carefully, I see what you and Behemoth mean. It is amazing what ignorance and fear can breed!!!!

Behemoth, Hi.... In a way, I have to agree with you. Given the right ingredients and the basic technique, it should indeed be possible for anyone to make fine humous. The proof of the puddng (or in this specific case, the humous) is in the eating and as much as I can enjoy the humous at the little joint on Ashtoria ha Parchi street near my home, it simply doesn't stand up to the test of fine humous. He makes great "harif" (hot sauce), his pitot come from one of the best pita bakeries in the city, his melahweh is great stuff, he's a lovely guy, the people who sit there are a nice crowd but not one of them won't say that the humous at Abu Hasan (Ali Karavan) and a dozen other places in Jaffa isn't better. Condescending? I think not. At least here in Israel, with a few possible exceptions, a statement of realities.

True enough that to the point that although Tel Avivians will eat humous at many of their neighborhood humous joints but when they want really good humous they go to Jaffa or even as far as Ramle; from Caesaria they drive to the restaurants in Akko; from Jerusalem they drive to Abu Ghosh, and when in the Galilee invariably to Arab villages or roadside restaurants. We even joke that there is "Jewish humous" and believe me, that isn't a compliment. Go a step further, the better of the Jewish owned humous joints invariably have Arabs working in the kitchen. The worst of them make their humous to far in advance, in too large quantities, etc, etc. and some of them (god will forgive them but I won't) buy pre-made bulk from the big food producers. A few exceptions - for example, in Tel Aviv some of the humous offered only in the mornings in the Yemeni quarter. True, many of the people who own these places are Jews but I can assure you of one thing - they all speak Arabic fluently. As to why only in the mornings - simple enough - a really good humous joint makes just enough humous to sell out by noon or one p.m. Among the cogniscenti, humous is a food best consumed in the morning or, at very latest, for an early lunch. With re quality of ingredients vs technique -respectfully disagreed. The quality of the humous beans and of the olive oil are no less important than the precise way in which they are cooked and then crushed and blended......none of which are easily mastered at all.

Most Israelis are very aware of the sometimes subtle, sometimes not so subtle differences not only between the dishes of the Maghreb, of what we consider the Middle-East, of the Balkans and of other Mediterranean (or, if one prefers Med-Rim) cuisines. More than that, there is a general awareness of the differences between tent cooking and palace cooking. In fact, if one were to do a census of restaurants throughout Israel, you would find that the largest influences in low- to medium-priced restaurants are from the Maghreb and what most think of as when talking about "Arab cuisine", those followed by more formal Middle-Eastern cookery, and then, as one moves to more expensive and more "prestigious" restaurants to influences from France, Italy and other countries. Despite large immigrations of those from the former USSR, Russian restaurants remain confined to neighborhods with large populations of those immigrants and remain at the folk-level, that is to say, lower priced. The same is true of Ethiopian cuisine. Even though highly prized,even as festive meals, those meals are often served as part of family or community celebrations and are not taken in restaurants. Although the cuisine of Morocco (for example) is highly prized by those who know it, very few prestigious restaurants have opened featuring that cuisine. As to why this is - two hypotheses - first being that these are the foods that many most often associate with home and family and thus with everyday dining and not with prestige and high prices; second (somewhat more severe) that in many lands the foods of one's perceived "enemies" (even though we may ourselves have roots in those enemy lands) is not highly prized or valued. Also worth keeping in mind that most Israelis simply do not patronize the more expensive restaurants of the country and that what is considered in other countries as "ethnic" is here still thought of as "local" and "family oriented". Much the same would apply in Israel were we talking about the foods usually thought of as "Jewish" in most countries (gefilte fish, cholent, kishke, etc). Such dishes, Ashkenazi in their roots, are, of course no more Jewish than are those brought to the country by Sepharadi Jews, and so called "Jewish restaurants" are, for the most part also moderately priced, relatively simple eateries. Another truth of the matter when it comes to true Arab foods - the best of those are prepared not by Jews but by Arabs. Believe me, there is no Jewish humous joint in Israel that makes humous as well as it is made in Arab villages or quarters of cities with large Arab populations. As to shakshouka, best in the country are at simple joints where the person doing most of the cooking is indeed the mother of the family that owns the place. Same, of course with gefilte fish. As to the USA, I very much wonder if the great number of immigrants from any of the countries that have been mentioned would prefer to dine on those dishes (a) at home ,(b) in simple home-like eateries © in prestigious or even and heaven forbid (d) mass-market chain restaurants. My guess is that (a) and (b) will dominate. As to others, the adventurous will join the immigrants at the restaurants they most enjoy and although they may visit a luxuriously decorated Moroccan restaurant once, they will not make such places regular ports of call.

Staff writers also have the privilege of occasionally submitting Op-Ed pieces. I have done so on several occasions, almost always relating to some proposed law or another that would impact on what I consider our culinary freedom of choice. In one case, for example, the Israeli knesset (our equivalent of parliament or congress) was considering a law banning the advertising of wine products; on several occassions I have written about the overtly greedy business aspects of kashrut. The piece of this nature I liked the best (and so did my readers considering that my newspaper got hundreds of reactions (angry at me, in support of me, cursing me, one going as far as to suggest that by writing the piece I had condemned myself to eternal hellfire and brimstone). Writing the piece was inspired about twelve years ago when the knesset was rather seriously considering a law that would completely ban the raising and sales of pork within Israel. Thankfully, that ridiculous little law was not voted into being!!! That piece follows...... Pig, Let Me Speak His Praise Daniel Rogov Pig is ill and, because it is in bad taste to speak ill of the dead or the dying, this may be an appropriate moment to reflect on some of the kinder things that have been said about him. According to historian Carleton Coon, pigs were first domesti- icated in the area of Iran and Iraq about 9,000 years ago. Thus, oddly enough, the people to first learn the pleasures of dining on pork were the inhabitants of the Middle-East. Until the advent of Mohammed, pork remained the most prized meat of the region and dining on spit-roasted suckling pig was a culinary activity equally adored by peasants and royalty. The joys of roast pig spread rapidly to Greece and Turkey and, by the time of Homer, some 2,900 years ago, roast pork was so popular that the great poet would probably have had a hard time describing the feasts of Odysseus had he ignored the pig. Nowhere, however, was pig more appreciated than in China. In his diaries, Marco Polo described a piece de resistance that was served while he was visiting the palace of Kubla Khan. After a pig had been stuffed with dates, it was encased in a coating of wet clay and roasted until the juices were sealed in, the skin soft and the clay dried out. The shell was then broken off and the skin removed and pounded together with rice flour and water. The pig was coated with this mixture and then deep fried until it was a crisp golden brown. Finally, the meat was cut into slices which were placed on a bed of herbs and steamed for several hours. After tasting the dish, Polo wrote that "the pig was as soft as the best Genoan butter, exquisitely aromatic and the purest delight to eat". Even though this recipe is over 4,000 years old, it has never lost its popularity, and was one of the dishes prepared when Richard Nixon was feted in the Forbidden City. North and South American Indians never domesticated pigs, but held the flesh of wild boars in high esteem. They considered pork especially appropriate to celebrate births, marriages and vic- tories in battle. Because wild pigs were so readily available on the Noth American continent, the Europeans that later settled there made it one of their favorites. In 1725, William Byrd II wrote that "in Virginia, especially, pigs seem to find the climate and foods so congenial, that many southern larders appear ready to burst at the seams with pork and hams". The pig also found a niche in literature. In his Dissertation Upon Roast Pig, which appeared in 1822, Charles Lamb held that "in the entire realm of edible things, roast pig is the most deli- cate". Dr. Boswell pronounced that he "could linger long and lovingly over the succulence of pig"; and Samuel Pepys concluded that "there could be nothing better for the digestion and the spirit than pickled oysters, a young roasted pig and good, heavy ale". In the realm of fiction, the characters of Tom Jones, Gulliver and Gargantua would have been much diminished without ribs of pork as a major part of their diets. Even modern writers have found pig much to their taste. Ernest Hemingway found fried pork chops with sauerkraut "a delight .. a marvellous feast for a damp autumn evening"' James Joyce considered them "fit fare for kings"; and Lawrence Durrell thought them "par- ticularly succulent and delicious, especially when taken with an appropriate quantity of light beer". It is true that not all people delighted in the succulence of pig. Fiji Islanders kept them as house pets (pigs can be easily housebroken), but did not eat them, believing that souls in transit to heaven found temporary resting places in the bodies of pigs. Jews and Moslems consider pigs unclean; Carib Indians avoided eating pork believing that it would give them `pig eyes'; and for many centuries Trobriand Islanders did not eat pigs be- cause they feared that dining on pork would rob them of the power of intelligent speech. Pig, as we said, is sick. It is up to the members of our knesset to decide whether or not he will become healthy once again.

Deacon, Hi... A fun idea but it must be arranged so that even though the critics dine together they do not discuss their reactions to the setting, the service or the dishes they are served while at the table and then when giving their analysis and critique not while together so that no one more dominant personality influences the others in what they say. Something akin to a blind tasting at which one sits quietly, no facial reactions, no body language, no "ooohs", "aahs" or "ychtzs" to give away their reactions until the moment of truth. And then the fun will begin for the audience in analyzing the analysts and what they had to say. Are you offering business- or first-class flights to the program? And of course, only the very best hotels will be acceptable for accomodations.

In Israel, when young children find something they don't like in a major way, they say somethng that sounds like "yichtz fichtz". That about sums it up for me!

I can't help but think that there is a proliferation of grape varieties taking place these days, hundreds of wineries planting just about any grape they can get their hands on all in the name of the "what's new this week" phenomenon. In tiny little Israel for example we even have Pinotage these days! And Viognier is being planted in every continent (well, except Antarctica). I think what should be happening is not the hunt for "more" varieties but the determination of which varieties work where. And if it ain't gonna be new, that's fine......so long as its better, more interesting, more individual.

Several comments: In 2002, partly to answer this question, a group of winemakers within Tuscany cooperated in a small experiment to deal partly with the question of terroir. Small quantities of Sangiovese grapes were harvested and sent to the same winery, there to be handled by the same winemaker, each wine receiving identical treatment from the crush to the barrel and on to the bottling, this eliminating as many of the "human intervention" factors in the winemaking process as possible. At the tasting, attended by more than 20 winemakers and a few journalists, the impact of the different areas was clearly demonstrated. More important, the issue of terroir vs that of winemaking influences has something distinctly akin to the nature-nurture discussions in regard to human intelligence. In intelligence, it is clear to anyone save the worst racists that both genetics and environment have their impact, but as only mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the noonday sun, only a fool would try (as Arthur Jensen and others did) to say that this or that percentage of intelligence comes from one or the other of the many factors involved. So it is with terroir. As the denial of the impact of the winemaking processes involved would be foolish, so is the denial of the impact of terroir but to define precisely what extent each plays its role is no less a fool's mission. Is the concept of terroir used to "sell" wine. Of course it is. But so again are label and the French paradox. Everything can be used or abused. But then again, we're not talking about sales techniques. We're talking about wine.

Mineral water or, if one prefers, bottled spring water, has been much a part of European dining culture since the time of the Romans when water from various mountain springs was highly valued. So much a part of the scene is mineral water that some will go to as much trouble in matching water with their meals as they will wine. On the negative side, there is also a distinct snobbism to mineral water, some professing for example to drink only Badoit, the "in" water of the moment, some even insisting on doing all of their cooking with it. On the positive side, several years ago I was asked to lead a formal tasting of mineral waters, the editor and I both considering that this might make a rather "cute" and lightly amusing article. We invited only experienced wine tasters to the tasting, provided scoring sheets and ensured that the tasting would be fully blind.....the whole catastrophe. The tasters, myself included, entered in a rather jovial air. What amazed us was that our palates were remarkably together in the evaluating and description of the various flavors and other sensations imparted by the various waters. In fact, closer together than the same group would normally be on wines! The proof of the pudding for us was that two samples of water received almost identical tasting notes and scores from nearly every one of the tasters. When finally they were revealed one was the bottled brand "Mai Eden" and the other was the tap water of the small city of Katzrin on the Golan Heights. It took only a single phone call to verify that the tap water of that city was precisely the same as that bottled in a plant less than 2 kilometers away and from precisely the same source. It works! Try it.....

To cite an old song..."It ain't necessarily so". Some highly tannic wines (e.g. traditionally made Amarone) are indeed best on their own and are even thought of as "contemplation wines", and when paired with food, probably best only with something like fine cheeses. Also worth keeping in mind that most wines are at their best with foods, the wine and the food serving to highlight the charms, flavor and texture one of the other. This of course based on making the right match between the food and wine. I agree, no need to build a new set of stones carved on Sinai as to which wines go with which foods, much being up to personal taste, but no question that some wines and foods do go far better than might others...... But that a topic not for a thread but for either a book, a doctoral dissertation or a six month long course. Best, Rogov

For me, as a professional restaurant and wine critic, the internal rules of the game may be somewhat different. First of all, I never hesitate, whether dining as part of my work or simply for my pleasure, to dine alone and any restaurant that relegates me to the bar instead of a table is a restaurant that will never see me again (unless I have to write a future review). I am aware that the ideal and most efficient table for a restaurant is the table for four (maximum profit and turnover with a single waiter) while the table for one is least profitable (same effort goes into the table as if there were four diners). As much as I respect restaurants, chefs and restaurateurs, when I dine alone that is, as the French like to say "tant pis" (just too bad). I do tend to tip higher when dining alone though being aware that the waiter/waitress has to put as much effort into my meal for one as he/she would for two. Second, if I have something I truly want to read and am dining on my own I will take it with me. I restrict myself in this case however to what we usually think of as small-format pocket books as they take up less room, do not interfere with the table or food setting and are less conspicuous. Most of the time however I simply settle in to enjoy the passing show (being well aware of course that I am part of the passing show of others), and find that my pleasure can be heightened simply by quietly (never obtrusively) watching the goings-on around me. Beats the heck out of most tv shows and even most of what you find in the cinema. In truth, I prefer most dining in the company of one other person, sometimes two or three, rarely more, but dining with myself as company is not at all a bad thing to do. I am reminded of the story (probably apocryphal) of the night that the famous Roman gastronome Lucullus dined at home alone and his servants prepared a simple meal of gruel for him. Lucullus was outraged and told his servant: "Do you not know that tonight I am entertaining my most honored of guests? Tonight Lucullus is dining with Lucullus". One last note. In my role of restaurant critic I have a policy of never writing a negative review of a restaurant after just one visit. Everyone, after all, is entitled to one bad night. In those cases where I do have to return because of shall we say "earlier suffering", I almost always return alone. I return with the hope that things will be much better of course, but no need in subjecting someone else to the experience if things are equally bad or perhaps even worse.