Chris Amirault

Unless you had a massive fat cap and the fat/liquid ratio was 10:1, my money's on that pork being pumped full of liquid.

Of course -- fingers faster than my brain. Not sure I can. I think that the technique may have less effect in a well-sealing Staub at low heat, but at higher temps and in my less-well-sealing Le Creuset dutch oven, wouldn't having something immediately above the food prevent spatter from burning off on the underside of the lid? Before I used this technique, I would often find fond up there....

There's a great Catalan dish for garbanzos with sofregit that Albert Asim, the chef at Bar Pinotxo, made for me about seven times while I was in Barcelona. I'm pretty sure that Catalan Cuisine by Colman Andrews has the recipe; I'll check at home.

Stupid question: the change in formula and labels coincided precisely? I haven't seen the new bottles anywhere up north here.

Since paper doesn't conduct heat (and foil does), it allows for gentler evaporation, I think.

A new tip -- and from the source, even. Thanks Paula!

It'll have taken over three years, but I'm finally getting back for the next meal in a week, when I'll be in town for the inauguration. Any recent reports? Must haves? Must misses?

I think so. The Star Cocktail, sayeth Paul Clarke at The Cocktail Chronicles, is an equal parts drink that includes gomme syrup and Peychaud's or Angosutra, not orange bitters. But they certainly are kissing cousins.

Sounds like a relationship to develop, eh? That much-discussed marrow is one of the most fantastic things about this dish, btw. Why someone would eat an animal's flesh but not that luscious marrow is beyong my ken. Yum.

If it had the horsepower, I'd say this qualifies. Domo arigato, mate.

Dinner tonight was potato, kale, and chourico soup, simple and delicious. Along with the usual (onions and garlic sauteed, yukon golds cooked in stock, bay, sage, thyme, black and white pepper), I tossed in a pinch of allspice, which perked things up nicely.

I've been realizing the last few weeks that there's a special place in my heart for a certain class of drinks that's hard to describe. Basically, they're just damned smart, an great idea that is an even better one in the glass, and the link between the two is expressed in the name. I offer you two examples. First, the Marconi Wireless: 1 3/4 oz applejack (Laird's BIB) 3/4 oz sweet vermouth (Punt e Mes) 2 dashes orange bitters (a rare case where Fee's works well alone) orange twist Guglielmo Marconi was, of course, the Italian fellow who sat on a Cape Cod beach in 1903 and transmitted the first transatlantic wireless message. I don't know if he had a store of New Jersey applejack on hand to celebrate, but what better way to mark the connection between the shores than a drink that joins the libations of both. I think that classic can happily share a bench with this new concoction from our own Dave Wondrich, aka Splificator, who named it Weeski: 2 oz Irish whiskey (he uses Jameson's, I like Powers) 1 oz Lillet blanc 1 tsp Cointreau 2 dashes orange bitters lemon twist New York Magazine gives the drink a parenthesis that explains the goofy name: What Whiskey Would Taste Like If It Were French. He's right -- and after a few you'll pronounce them with the proper accent. Each drink is outstanding in the glass, not merely a clever idea, and their ingredients serve both. If you've had 'em, you know what I mean. Surely there are others that avoid naming trends (celebrities who happen by, NYC neighborhoods) and variations on the same old song.

You want the liquid, yes, and use it with or instead of the Worcestershire sauce (both if you're an umami fan). I'd try Toby's rim of chili and salt, too. Yum.

Yes, and to let some steam escape, preventing the parchment from being puffed up. That hole is absurdly big, I'll add. Not sure. Wolfert says to do it in the SWF book, and I've just always done it. I think it enables irregularly cut parchment to fit neatly into the dutch oven and allows little areas to accommodate the bubbling. Good question..... In this method, you can have two stages, one in which the very flavorful braising liquid is kept to a minimum (the cartouche, the seal, etc.) intensifying its flavor by limited volume of liquid, and the other in which you reduce that liquid post-braise. Any liquid that evaporates on the uncovered lid leaves flavor residue on it -- it's that fond-y brown stuff -- and I'd rather that in the sauce than washed off the lid. eta the part about the cartouche hole -- ca

Actually, it was two servings. Even I can't eat two shanks in one sitting! The paper on top is a cartouche, which is a little disposable tool meant to prevent the liquids from bubbling up and being vaporized on the lid. It helps to reduce evaporation and thus to keep flavors in the sauce you're building in the pot.

As I got the ossobuco in the oven, I realized that there were lots of potentially interesting braising tricks built into my approach for folks who might find this recipe a bit intimidating, particularly given the price of these damned shanks. (Nearly all have been stolen from others, mind you, often from around here. ) As a result I took a lot of photos of the mise prep, stovetop cooking, and so on. Here are the shanks: I tied them up with string: simple slip knots to make a loop, two for each shank, ends trimmed: As you can see, one is about 1 1/2" thick but with a larger diameter, whereas the other is about 2" thick and a smaller one. Not sure what effect that will have on the final dish. After all the discussion about the marrow, I wanted to keep it in the bones, so I sautéed 4 oz of the pancetta I've cured here in a few Ts of butter to brown it and soften it up. (Pancetta without additional oil tends to harden quickly as you cook it.) Remove the pork and add the shanks into the fat to brown up on all sides: I do all of this in a Sitram stainless sauté pan: better browning, more room to maneuver, and those wonderful high sides: Very well browned -- and all done while I did the vegetable, tomato, and herb mise: Mirepoix, with 2/3 c carrots, 2/3 c celery, 1 c onion, all in small dice: Since I'm not going to be blending up these vegetables in the final sauce, I took the extra time to get them just right. Well, that and because I love using my new nakiri knife. The mirepoix spent about 10 minutes over high heat: Added some lemon rind (no pith -- used a vegetable peeler) and about 1 tsp minced garlic: After a couple of minutes, I dumped that all into a strainer to remove most of the fat. (If this were going to sit in the fridge overnight, I'd separate out the sauce and let the fat rise to the top to be removed.) Here's the bouquet garni: three sprigs parsley, three thyme branches from out back, and two bay leaves (picked ones with long, curled stems): The boquet garni goes atop the shanks, which fit snugly into my oval dutch oven: After scraping up everything in the pan with 1 c stock and 1 c wine, I reheated the mirepoix with 1 1/2 c chopped tomatoes with some of their liquid: I've become convinced that covering the food with two layers is the best way to go with most braises. First, the cartouche, created by placing the top of the dutch oven over a sheet of parchment and cutting out the shape with a paring knife, which prevents liquids from bubbling up and being vaporized on the lid: You then fold it up roughly, cut a hole in the middle, and crumple it before unfolding it. The second layer just secures the seal tightly with some aluminum foil: It's now in a 275F oven for probably 3-4 hours. More soon! ET clarify in the first paragraph -- ca

To illustrate the point I made about cutting onions, take a look at this photo, which is pretty typical of what's been happening with this knife:

As I mentioned here, I have been curing saucisson sec in my basement for a few weeks. I pulled one today to see how they were: The definition isn't very good, but I'm very happy with the flavor. It's true that they don't have that tang from the bactoferm, but the pork flavor is outstanding. I used Coleman pork shoulder, I should add. I'm getting increasingly frustrated with my inability to find back fat here, which is the main reason there's smearing in the sausages. I'm on a mission....

Problem solved: just got an orvieto classico as a gift last night. Getting geared up to cook today.

Depends on whether you want ropey meat or tender chunked slices.

There are lots of products made to deliver the MSG: Accent, Maggi seasoning, virtually all bouillon cubes.

John, what, if anything, can you do to prepare for this?

Cooking and drinking both? What specifically?

Using my ingenuiTEA set-up here, I just brewed 5g in 400 ml of 194F water for 4 min. That's my standard first steep. I'll start with my own impressions without having read those of the others and then comment. I really like it, though it's a lot more delicate than the oolongs I've been used to drinking. The color is a pale straw yellow, with almost a shale gray tone. I really like the aroma on this, with lilac, lemongrass, and kaffir lime notes. The color may be having an effect on my nose, but I also think I can detect sweet grassy elements like freshly cut hay. It tastes very smooth and slightly sweet at the end. I just read Richard's first post with the notes about production, and the lack of roasting really does have a big effect. That comment about floral notes being retained (and the dried fruit flavors left undeveloped) makes sense to me. Just read that some folks have green tints, which I don't really have. I used tap water here, which I've found produces a better cup than the spring water we get delivered. Can the different water quality can have that effect? I'm just finishing the cup now and realize that its lack of off-notes is very striking to me. I've been drinking Tealuxe and Tradition oolongs at work, and there are nearly always elements that leave the taste less smooth. I suppose that this is precisely what one gets for the extra bucks, eh?