Chris Amirault

Wow. Never tried this method. I've usually poached them in water to get them near temp and then finished them (after drying) in fat in a skillet.

How much is the juice of 1/8 of a grapefruit? Doesn't that vary widely?

Are there any ovens that have thermometers that correct the digital temperature controls on a regular basis and at different levels (low, medium, high, extra high heat)? Now that's a feature I'd like, and it'd be pretty easy, wouldn't it?

Finally bought this and have started reading it. I don't get the sense that Pollan is out to slaughter science and replace it with Mom. Rather, I think that -- as with much of his previous work -- he is focusing on the corporate interests that determine what is sold as food in the US and how those interests affect research, marketing, policy, diet, and the like. For example, here's the definition of nutritionism (27-8), the ideology But for Pollan's main point "nutritionism" only makes sense if you also understand the 1973 striking down of the "imitation" rule, which decreed that anything that wasn't itself (low-carb pasta) should be labeled as such ("imitation spaghetti"). The two go hand-in-hand: it's hard to make a case for healthy food via nutritionism if that food is stamped "imitation food." It's those sorts of relationships between product development, lobbyists, and policy that Pollan wants to explore. Meanwhile, though I'm only 40 pages in, I'm finding this book snarky in a way that "Omnivore's Dilemma" is not.

As I mentioned over here, I had the great pleasure of eating brisket tacos at Mia's in Dallas. For those who haven't eaten there, you're missing one of the great beef experiences in the world; for those who have, you know where I'm going. Figuring out the Mia's recipe here would be a service to humankind. As far as I can tell, here are the brisket basics. The meat in the taco has a remarkably rich beefiness that comes from the meat, the "gravy" (a skimmed and possibly reduced braising liquid), and beef fat. Yes, there's a good dose of rich fat added to the meat after it's been chopped up. I suspect that the brisket is salted and peppered and then is browned pretty heavily, especially on the fat cap, and that rendered fat and fond is used to fry up onion, garlic, and some mild fresh chile peppers (I'd guess ancho and pasilla). The meat has been braised in a simple yet extremely savory broth. Besides salt, pepper, and those vegetables, my guess is that there's only a rich meat stock used as a base, poured over the vegetables and fond. I couldn't detect any spices -- or smoke, for that matter -- at all. (However, if a few bouillon cubes and/or Maggi seasoning found their way in there, it would account for that background umami....) The waitress said that they braise the meat overnight, which suggests a very low temperature, and the product confirms a low-n-slow braise. I'd also bet that they either have custom-made braising pans that require very minimal liquid or that they use aluminum foil to encase the meat. (Pam, you want to weigh in on that?) Once the meat is done, it's removed from the braising liquid and chopped roughly. I think that the braising liquid is then treated like a stock base: it's strained, the fat is separated out, and it's reduced. My bet is that the beef fat is used to fry some new onions and chiles, flavoring the fat; then those vegetables are lifted out and added to the stock to flavor it as well. The tacos are served in corn tortillas with a tiny bit of jack cheese, the brisket, and a few wedges of onion and chile; the "gravy" is served in a little stainless jus cup. They need nothing else. Indeed, they deserve to be eaten as is. So, based on that, I offer the following as a working draft recipe for dissection and debate here. I had the great pleasure of dining with Jeff Meeker, Chris Hennes, and his wife, all of whom I hope will weigh in here, along with anyone else who has enjoyed Mia's brisket. (You too, Richard!) It's not yet written in full -- no list of ingredients, incomplete steps -- but I hope it's a useful start. Season a well-capped brisket with lots of salt and pepper. Sear over medium high heat, starting with the fat cap down, adding lard or oil as needed, until the brisket is well browned. Turn down the heat if the fond starts to burn: that's your gold. Remove the meat and set aside. Sauté chopped onion, garlic, and chilis in the fat, scraping carefully and turning down the heat as needed. When vegetables are nicely browned, add a small amount of stock and scrape up the fond until dissolved. (If you're going that route, add your bouillon cube, Maggi, etc. and dissolve it.) Add the meat back to the pan and add enough additional stock to cover. (Pam, this is where a primer on aluminum wrapping would help. Would you just spread the moistened stuff from the pan over the brisket and wrap it up tightly?) Braise in a low oven (200-250F) for several hours until tender. Remove from pan/foil and set aside. Strain all collected juices into a separator, straining out and pressing on the vegetables. (You aren't going for consommé here, so push that flavor into the liquid.) Pour off the fat and reserve both liquids; reduce the stock if needed. Sauté new, raw sliced onions and chiles in the fat over medium high heat until they start to caramelize. Strain off the fat and reserve; add the vegetables to the stock. Season the gravy with salt and pepper to taste. Chop the brisket roughly into 1/2-1" chunks and toss with some of the reserved fat and just enough of the gravy to moisten. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Place about 1/4 cup of the brisket mixture in a heated corn tortilla with some of the vegetables and a T of shredded jack cheese. Serve immediately with gravy on side. Have at it.

Hang in there. I think you're ok. There's no effect on the confit if you've not trimmed off the fat. Most of it should render when you cook it, and having it a little cured is fine. The reason some folks take the fat off is either cosmetic or to get more when rendering. Yes, it does. You were right to avoid the high heat while rendering, but you need it for cracklins. And you can correct this problem. If you want cracklins, just keep a minimum amount of fat in the pan and get all of that nonfat liquid out of there, then turn up the heat to medium. Your sheet idea would also work, but you'll eventually have to use a high heat if you want cracklins (325 or so). If you just want to get the fat, you can try using your food processor with a bit of water, which helps render the fat more quickly.

Yep: I knew it wasn't outstanding. I just didn't think it would be really bad to inedible. Mia's last night, and those brisket tacos are one of the best things to eat in the world.

Just S&P for me.

I was starving coming back from the convention center on the DART and, at the West End stop, saw the Sonny Bryan's sign. Surely it couldn't be as bad as the food at the Sheraton, I thought, so I went in. Big mistake. I got the 3/4 lb sampler platter, which allows you to get three meats. I got brisket, of course, plus the regular sausage and pork ribs. Sides were fried okra (very good) and beans (lousy). The meats were really, really disappointing. The pork ribs had been steamed; I suspect that the aluminum foil packages in the oven contained the ribs, on which the character-free sauce had been smeared. The sausages had good definition and texture, and they were nicely porky, but they were so oversalted that they were inedible (even with two Lone Stars). And the brisket. If it had been smoked, there was little evidence. And the meat itself was terrible: stringy and spongy with no discernible flavor of beef. (Perhaps it had been there once, but after sitting in a steamer pan for a few hours and being doused with that awful sauce, it wasn't there when I ate.) I know, I know, shooting fish in a barrel, especially at the West End tourist trap. But I guess I'd hoped that the Sonny Bryan's folks would have put out at least a passable product to us northern rubes. Nope.

Great piece, Dave. I think you really capture the exhausted, ennui-riddled misanthropy I feel at the end of a 12-hour conference day. And, as you say, My thinking exactly.

I'm stuck at the Sheraton in Dallas, a land bereft of good cocktail options. I did manage to find a liquor store downtown (the aptly named Dallas Liquor Store on Main St) and grabbed a 375 ml bottle (a tenth?) of Wild Turkey 101 bourbon, but, alas, they had nothing else appropriate for hotel-room cocktail-making: bottles too big, lousy brands, no bitters. Well, I'm at the end of a long day of workshops and meetings at a conference and I need a drink, so I've had to wing it. What follows is my recipe: Sheraton Sour 1. Walk to the hotel bar and, when the bartenders aren't looking, reach into their garnish tray and steal the equivalent of half a lemon. Look for robust wedges, not wizened ones. Ignore the stares of the patrons at the stick who lack your dedication/neurosis. 2. Go to your room and place all but one of the wedges in a water glass. Using your thumbnail, remove the pulp from the rind of the last one, being careful not to squeeze it, and add the pulp to the glass. (Pith is good. Remember, you lack bitters.) 3. Tear open three paper packets of Domino sugar and dump them into the glass. Using your contact lens solution bottle, muddle the wedges and the sugar as best you're able. Add sufficient bourbon to the glass, remembering that whatever you manage to make is going to be better than the bourbon neat and you can't bring that bottle back on the plane in your carry-on. 4. Grab your ice bucket and find the ice machine. Push down the plastic thingie to release all that superwet ice into the waste bin. Press the ice machine button to feed relatively fresh, merely wet ice into the plastic holder, and then load it into your bucket. 5. Back in the room, fill the muddly water glass with ice. Place a paper coffee cup (that you've stolen or that the hotel, cutting costs, has put in your room) over the water glass and press tightly to form a seal. You've got your shaker, so shake it. 6. Using a a shirt-tail, your fingers, a disposable coffee cup lid, or whatever you can find, strain into another glass with ice in it. (The ambitious will have filled it with extra ice to chill; dump that out if so and replenish.) Grab that reserved lemon rind and twist it over the top; rub the rim; drop it in. 7. Enjoy! If you've ever traveled, surely you've been in this situation. What sorts of band-aids, idiotic substitutes, and obsessive tricks do you have up your sleeve?

Well, I'm dying to hear what you think. (I've also sent a sample to someone out in Society-land and hope he'll weigh in soon.) I really think that the burnt toast bitters has interesting potential, especially in whisk(e)y-based cocktails....

Had to do some errands during the day and found myself back at Urban Taco for lunch. I've just polished off one shrimp arbol and one chicken mole taco, both great though the mole was a standout. I also had to get more of those peanut habanero and tomatillo serrano salsas, so I got chips (and the pepito "pesto," very good but not in the league of the others) to eat with those. This place is great.

As I mentioned above -- -- I really like the Whitley Neill gin, but only had it that one time neat in a crowd. However, this afternoon, a lucky break. I walked into the main lobby of the massive, mirrored Hyatt hotel here in Dallas, and, as I always do, scanned the shelves behind the bar. Lo and behold: lurking behind the Hendrick's and Tanqueray, a bottle of Whitley Neill gin. Getting it into a glass took some doing. The bartender clearly hadn't a clue about making a drink, but I managed to get him to make a modified Martinez (no Maraschino, sadly, and I couldn't seem to convince him about stirring). That stuff is fantastic. Dallas denizens and conventioneers, get thee there. I hope to spy it on a liquor shelf later this weekend....

Kennedy is an encyclopedic chronicler of the nuances of Mexican regional cooking. Bayless is no slouch, but his project has more often emphasized translation of those cuisines and principles into dishes that can be easily made in a Western home.

Went to Urban Taco tonight and had some very good to excellent food. We started with good chips, excellent, simple guacamole and a quartet of salsas; the tomatillo serrano verde and habañero/roasted peanut sauces were both outstanding. We all stuck to the taco trios for dinner, and I went for the basics. I thought that the carnitas taco was a bit too sweet, but it, like all the other meats, was perfectly cooked and very moist. The pastor and barbacoa were both excellent, tucked into swell fresh tortillas (Maseca harina, I think) with minimal additional fanfare. That's how I'd want it: the chef is letting the quality meat shine without too much distracting adornment. Sides were fine, unremarkable. The beans were pureed, which was a bit odd, though they were tasty. the The drinks, sadly, were mediocre: fresh ingredients but poorly balanced and, for the most part, far too sweet. I had to ask for an extra shot in my Paloma Cocktail. The service was impeccable, particularly for such an informal setting. If I lived in Dallas, I'd eat here regularly.

I think that you mean this vegetable turner shredder, actually. Made by Benriner but not a "Benriner" -- aka a Japanese mandoline. Michel Richard uses them a lot in Happy in the Kitchen.

Chris, 2 cups Red Wine Vinegar 1 cup Sugar 1 cup Water 3 pieces Whole Star Anise 1 Vanilla Bean Split 5 Allspice 1/2 Tablespoon Whole Black Peppercorns 4 cloves toast spices in a pan...add vin, water, sugar and v bean to toasted spices let simmer until sugar dissolves and everything has enough time to "mingle" then strain liquid over huckleberries and let cool to room temp then refrigerate for up to two weeks Thanks for the report, Eliot. I have family in Montana who are always wondering what to do with their extra huckleberries. (I've got a Mason jar in the freezer that I'm thinking I'll put to this use.) I hope to visit in the spring, in fact.

Having tasted both side-by-side at that DeBragga & Spitler meat event linked above, I can say that wet- and dry-aged are very different products, akin to aged cheddar vs aged blue cheese. They both have a complexity of flavor that's not there in the unaged products, but the dry-aged stuff has funk that wet-aged stuff seems to lack. Indeed, the dry-aged funk had, to my taste, a very blue cheese, mushroom umami that I loved and that others there found distasteful, even unbeeflike.

Here's the current list at Stephen Pyles: This worries me. Has anyone had a classic cocktail there?

Damn, I'm already making my list of people in my head.

Sure, like a CSA: you buy a share, and that money goes into the production of the product... I like it. I'd also bet that a lot of the decision-making could be done collectively. The job of the organizer would largely involve keeping people on schedule, doing the set-up stuff, etc. It needs a better name, though, something that conveys the sense of artisanal production.

In Dallas for a convention, and just had my first bag of Zapp's Spicy Cajun Crawtators. Thick, crunchy, excellent potato flavor, good spice: excellent all around.

First I've seen too. I'll ask around. ETA: Yep, I just talked to Eric Wolfe, who's been in the kitchen since the open. He said that he and Desi Lawson bought out Mike in May.

I have no experience but will follow this with interest. I'm a big fan of clarifying the sorts of obvious things that often lead to trouble, and the things I'm thinking about immediately are scale, commitment, and cost. Over some span of time, say a year, you'd need X people to commit to their fair share of portions for X-1 people. Choosing that X will be tricky: too big and it's difficult for each person to cook (cure, distill, brew, bake...) to scale; too small and the point of the co-op is lost. You'd also want to have a discussion about what sorts of per person costs constitute a "fair share." My efforts with bacon, liquor, and bitters have made it clear that you can spend a lot without realizing it, and it would be a big mess if some people aimed for the cheap while others went all out. Best to work out what each person's produced share would look like, too, a sobering exercise, probably. For what it would cost me to make you a pint of, say, lavender honey syrup for cocktails I could make you about two ounces of pancetta -- one's too much to use and one's too little. By the same token, you wouldn't want someone to expect to pay wildly different amounts for a given share. Finally, you'd need to get some agreement on what to do if someone doesn't want their share. The CSA model that I know says, basically, c'est la vie: barter on the spot, trade a given week's/month's share with someone, or lose it. No fair saying, "I don't eat/drink that." The more I write out the challenges, the more I like this idea.