Chris Amirault

It wasn't a size problem. There were five or six tables, max, in the room when we left. She could have said thanks to each in the span of three minutes. She was focused on one table -- which, again, is just fine with me.

Someone wrote to ask what I meant by this: When Chef Bernstein came out, she went to one of the tables that had gotten a lot of attention from the FOH staff (esp the maître d' or floor manager) and talked to them exclusively; she didn't walk around the room to talk to the other tables. When I made an effort to say thank you to her, just as I had to our servers, she made no indication that she noticed or cared. Had this been an important part of the meal, I would have devoted more time to it, but frankly I don't care what list I'm on. However, as others have referred to the "see and be seen" quality of the place, the single-sentence mention seemed appropriate. ETA that the servers themselves, along with both bartenders, absolutely nailed the informal American service style with grace, intelligence, and aplomb. Anyone who's been to Miami knows that decent service is the exception, not the rule. (I got kicked out of Vintage Liquors on Rt. 1 in a tony mall in South Miami last night by having the proprietors shut off the lights while I was in the back ogling rums. Didn't buy anything.) So I'm talking only about the maître d' and Bernstein herself.

Sra. Martinez last night for cocktails and tapas was a treat. Having dragged our butts around the Design District for a couple of hours and, suddenly, realizing that the area basically closed at six with few exceptions (Marimekko, thank you), we headed over to the restaurant at 6:30, half an hour before our reservation. The second floor (technically a half-floor) has a small bar at the back operated by Matthew Goldberg, who made us two great drinks prior to our meal. I had a sour made with Bulleit bourbon, sour orange juice, and thyme syrup that was very good; I would have preferred it up instead of on the rocks, especially since the rocks weren't the Kold-Draft ice that they also have available. My wife had a great Cava Blitz, with Grand Marnier, Fee's orange bitters, a sugar cube, and Vilafranca cava. From the looks of the menu, they have a good cocktail program going and Matthew is an interesting and articulate advocate for it. Then downstairs for dinner, which was excellent overall. In the "Cold & Crisp" section we had roasted piquillos with rich, peppery olive oil and the boquerones escabeche, a standard pintxos with perfect white anchovies topped with a julienned carrot, celery and pepper pickle. In one of the themes of the night, my wife thought that the pickle took away from the boquerones, whereas I thought the three items married taste and texture perfectly. Then again, she could eat a pound of boquerones with her fingers and die happy. I do think, however, that Sra. Martinez is showcasing the talents of chefs who understand balance extremely well. When they take care of assembly for you -- the pintxos and the choclo con chiles, absolutely flawless and served off the cob -- you can do no wrong. But some dishes require a bit of assembly to find the dish's intended balance. Take the brick-dough-encased foie. One mouthful of the foie that combines the it, dough, apple, pork, and the brown butter reductions of all is perfect, truly more than the sum of the excellent parts. However, it comes as a small plate and not as, say, a pintxo, so you must construct the bites yourself. Poking one item at a time in your mouth, you might find the foie a teensy bit underdone and the pork a teensy bit over done; together, the rich, melty foie provides the perfect fatty mouthfeel foil to the chewy, caramelized roasted pork. With that in mind, you can make some amazing forkfuls of food. The calamari "a la plancha" with arroz negro and chimichurri also rewarded a bit of each on the tines. (Too bad that a couple of pieces of calamari were chewy -- a risk of the plancha I guess.) The butifarra was my favorite of the night, an expertly made foie-duck sausage with gigante white beans and a port thyme reduction, again, showcasing the interplay of items with great skill. It really is a restaurant that rewards adventurous large groups; we left stuffed with a dozen more items desired but unordered. We are ignorant of the Miami social scene, but the response of the wait staff and Bernstein herself to a couple of tables probably indicates that we were on the Z list. Fair enough: we were very happy to have spent the night there, and I'd recommend any fan of big flavors on small plates to hit it.

Don't think so. No one is saying that shrimp are consistently hard to peel, which would indicate technique flaws. We're all saying that sometimes they are and we don't know why.

There would also be the drunken brawls. Excellent idea. Who of the free-pourers will step up and accept the challenge?

Thanks for the tip! Driving around in the maelstrom today, at the southern tip of Miami Beach, I found Portofino Wine Bank, operated by Rick Silverberg and selling an astonishing array of items, including cocktailian wonders like Carpano Antica Formula, Martin Miller's Reformed London Dry Gin (the 90.4 proof), and -- on sale for $22 -- the Angostura 1919 rum that is in my Daiquiri right now. If I lived in South Florida, I'd be at this place every week.

Merci indeed, John. Your incredible work over the years is one of the reasons eG Forums is as terrific as it is. Your keen wit and insight, coupled with your commitment to good food and drink, are a hallmark of each post. Thanks for all the behind-the-scenes work -- and here's looking forward to ever more posts.

Freepourers, do you taste each drink with a straw? If not, how do you know that the drinks are balanced? FWIW, I watched Jeff Morgenthaler fly through a mobbed Friday night at Clyde Common, measuring everything with jiggers, tasting every drink, and working more quickly than I'd have thought possible. Slower than someone freepouring wildly, I'm sure, but who wants to drink that stuff?

Happy hour: Clyde and Teardrop Lounge.

Haven't tried it. Take a crack at it and report back!

Just did exactly that and it's a great idea.

Make a French Pearl and you will. As someone who tried Herbsaint subbed in for it, I can tell you that the drink isn't the same.

If James Beard or Julia Child walked down a typical street in any US city back in the day, I doubt a soul would recognize them. if Rachel, Tom, or Tony walked down the street, they'd be mobbed. It's a different order of star magnitude.

Was it herbal? tart? spiced? There are a lot of long-braised curries in SE Asian repertoire, so it'd be good to know a few other characteristics.

Exactly my experience. I had the French Pearl at PC a while back and, without the recipe, had to reconstruct it at home. A number of substitutes just didn't work, both for flavor and appearance. Pernod is it, as Audrey's recipe indicates.

But there were people doing that for decades before the star chef was born. Can anyone really claim that Jonathan Tower, Jean-Louis Palladin, or any of a hundred other talented chefs who rose before the advent of the food media onslaught were making unsatisfying food? My point is that it's the machines built to promote stardom, and not the quality of individual stars, that drives the mega food star phenomenon.

That's what vaudevillians, silent film stars, and Danny Terrio thought, too.

450F or so gives you that caramelization, yep.

My one piece of All-Clad (a small sauce pan) lacks a rollover lip, one of the stupidest design omissions I can imagine. Even though I spent a mere $20 for it on clearance, it was a total waste of money because I never use it. I guess you could say that it looks really purty hanging there and all...

The recession is slamming away at restaurants across the country. Cookbook sales are dropping like rocks. FoodTV has been lousy for years; the last Top Chef was a farce and quality past winners can't find work. To reference a recent Richard Blais tweet from the Food & Wine event in Aspen, you can't swing a sixpack of Coors without hitting a "mega food star." But stardom is a fickle beast -- ask Rocco -- and when consumers are having trouble finding a few bucks for an Unhappy Meal, it's only a matter of time before the whole bloated foodie-fan-driven affair collapses under its own weight. When will the Mega Food Star jump the shark? And then what happens? Who's the Ron Howard? Who's the Penny Marshall? Who's the guy who played Squiggy?

Electric knife sharpeners, and doubly: they are a waste of money and they help you waste the money you've spent on your knives.

Terrific write-up here by the rumdood, with a slew of recipes and links.

Yes, absolutely. Three or four seconds in the microwave heats it up and makes it clear whether is lightly binding.

Yep -- or stick it on a plate and toss it in the microwave for a few seconds. That's pretty disgusting to microwave it. You can just eat it raw before nuking it. ← Not sure what's disgusting about it, unless you find the entire concept of microwaves disgusting. I don't cook and serve them that way, after all. It's just a dirty-pan reduction mechanism: when I'm making meatballs I have enough things to wash as it is. You get a sense of the seasoning and texture quickly and easily.

The little mesh sink drain thingie that traps junk from going down into your broken dispose-all.