Chris Amirault

Mitch can answer both questions far better than I, but here are a couple of responses for now: I can't speak to tradition (though Mitch, just back from a week in Paris, surely can), but the structures of daily classes followed by three-day weekends require more time in the fridge for doughs. Mitch has been fiddling around with the effects of time out and in the fridge for all of the doughs, especially (I think) the baguettes. That walk-in seems to do the trick! Basically, if the cut isn't sufficiently deep and angled, the pressure from the bread's expansion in the oven isn't released, resulting in tighter texture. Properly deep and angled cuts allow the gas to expand fully, for the diameter to be consistently large along the entire baguette, and thus for much better texture, feel, and thus taste.

I have the fortune of living in Providence RI, a wonderful city for food for a many reasons. I have the good fortune of knowing Mitch Stamm, aka boulak, an Associate Instructor in the International Baking and Pastry Institute at Johnson & Wales University. Today, I had the terrific, happy fortune to spend a day in Chef Stamm's course, "Principles and Techniques of Bread Production," with a crack cohort of first-year students. What follows are captioned photographs of my experience there, with some additional information provided in a post-class discussion with four students. (Thanks to Mitch, of course, to all of the students, and to Julia Van Pelt, Cathleen Van Sicklin, Stephanie Barnard, and especially Sheri True, who organized that discussion.) My contribution to the products depicted was minimal: a few rolls rolled, some garlic minced for focaccia, and the odd task here or there. Mainly, I tried to stay out of the way of the efficient, intelligent teams, throwing out a bit of garbage or chiming in about laminated dough thickness now and then. My lack of involvement helped to prevent any disastrous educational travesty, I'm glad to say. It's my hope that this topic will encourage members to discuss not only the particulars of bread production but also the issues raised by the faculty and students of Johnson & Wales concerning culinary education and pedagogy. With that, let's begin. Here's our room, on the Harborside campus of J&W -- which just so happens to be three blocks from my house. That Adamatic oven is a convection oven that fits those dozen-slot (?) baking racks that rotate within the oven. To the right are the three deck steam ovens. Yes, those are all Boos wood block tables: I got there around 6:15a, but by 6:45a, the joint was jumping: This was a first-year cohort taking their final course of the year. BPA1100 is a lab course, and twenty students rose early on a Monday for class. They immediately got to work, scaling their ingredients for later use and plotting their morning. On today's agenda we had the following: pan francese con biga whole wheat bread pretzels challah kaiser rolls brioche danish focaccia The students work in teams of four -- unless someone's a no-show: As you can see from the photo, the students ideally interact as a team, figuring out the plan for the (busy) morning and executing the various tasks. Here's one group forming the brioche dough into drumstick form prior to the final shaping: Pretzels, baguettes, whole wheat loaves, and others all require slight deviations on final formation. With pretzels, students worked the dough into the familiar trifold shape: Julia gives her challah an egg wash: Later, Julia stretches and folds her baguette dough: Edward and Sheri discuss the last steps for the lye-dipped pretzels: Mitch and Edward discuss the lousy, finger-tip burning ramifications of failing to prep the parchment for sticky pretzel dough: Mitch seemed to be everywhere at once, an opinion shared by the students to whom I talked. Over the course of the morning, he gave useful, pointed assistance to every student at least a dozen times. As a college professor myself, I find his dedication and diligence admirable. Here he is in a demo forming baguettes: Later, Mitch helped students to fabricate brioche spheres: Much of the day was devoted to explaining the use of the dough lamination machine, which I coveted: Mitch explains that properly formed pretzels "pray for our soldiers": I learned more about baguettes today than I had in my previous 44 years. Here's Mitch scoring shaped baguettes: Mitch explains why a tightly rounded dough rises with greater happiness: The end of class was devoted to critique of the product. This was a wonderful moment, in which Mitch explained why imperfect razor angle and cut depth resulted in a subpar baguette: The entire day was an ennobling experience for me, thanks both to Mitch and his students. Chef himself is available for questions, and I'll do what I can not to botch the easy ones.

OK, I take it all back. I just made this New Old Fashioned thing: 2 oz Famous Grouse scotch 1/2 oz St. Germain 1 dash halvsies orange bitters 1 dash Fee's Whiskey Barrel-Aged Bitters Oh man oh man. ETA: Halvsies orange bitters is half Fee's and half Regan's.

This AAA Cocktail (a loser in the Averna competition): 1/2 oz Averna 1/2 oz Aperol 1/2 oz Marie Brizard Apry 1 1/2 oz Plymouth gin orange twist

Finally found a bottle for $30 and have been experimenting. I don't think that it's quite as mixable as others have claimed. For example, I can't figure out good proportions for a pisco sour using the St. Germain; the Peruvian competition blows those flowers away. Makes me wonder about those peaty scotches y'all have been celebrating. On a more successful note, I have been fiddling with Katie's Aviation variation: I've been calling this combination Par Avion: 2 1/2 Plymouth gin 3/4 St. Germain 1/4 Luxardo Maraschino 3/4 lemon In a nod to Katie's initial idea, I did toss in a brandied cherry.

It's been five or six weeks since I made my batch, and in the last few days I've noticed a drop in the quality related to mouthfeel and aroma. It's still very good, but it separates while in the fridge and doesn't seem to maintain the complexity of flavor that it had when I first made it. So I'm seconding Sam's recommendation to make smallish batches. However, and more important, make batches.

A cautionary tale for those making pancetta: I had to toss about half of the two rolls that hang happily up-topic, oblivious to the mold growing in their midriffs. I couldn't quite capture the greenish tint along the outer edge of the fat on these slices, but it was clear to the eye: Kept the stuff that wasn't green and had some distance from the mold. Given the seductive smell, it was all I could do to keep myself from washing all that crap off and saving the whole thing. These were very thick bellies, and I'm starting to think that thinner is better for rolling tight.

Success: The ingredients in this Paraguayan passion fruit drink are passion fruit, sugar, and water. It's tart and not too sweet at all. I've got to figure out how to balance it out in drinks, because the recipes I'm working with all call for syrup, and it's more tart, I think, than whatever Jeff Berry used in his books. Of course, now that I finally have passion fruit, I had to grab my Intoxica! and experience what Berry compares to the Rosetta Stone of tiki drinks: the original Beachcomber zombie. Cheers.

Just back from Sanchez Market on Atwells at Academy, where in the back of the store you can order outstanding barbacoa soft tacos made from tortillas hot from the back. Two of those and a Jarritos naranja soda: $4. Best lunch in Providence.

Thanks, Mitch! As for the nicely built Mai Tai, I think that the Surf Room Mai Tai that I mentioned here is a triumph. I've been tweaking the recipe a bit and would suggest the following. Note that the orgeat is homemade; this is a drink that showcases good orgeat. 1 oz demerara rum (Lemon Hart) 1 oz dark Jamaican rum (Cruzan blackstrap) 1 oz light PR rum (Flor de Cana) 1/4 oz curacao (MB triple sec) 1/4 oz orgeat (homemade) 1/2 oz lemon 1/2 oz lime 1 oz pineapple 1 oz orange 3-4 dashes bitters (Hess house if you've got 'em; Angostura if not) Shake, strain into a large tiki mug with fresh crushed ice in it. Float some Lemon Hart 151 on top. If you're making it for someone else, make a wacky garnish; if not, skip the kitsch and enjoy. One additional note. I finally grabbed a copy of one of Trader Vic's cookbooks and got an electric fryer, so I think I may be proposing some pu pu party planning to my perplexed partner.

I'm the sort of diner who finds the slabs of duck, bacon, and foie gras plopped down on your table at Au Pied de Cochon to be miraculous food, and steamed clam juice dripping off my elbows is a sign that I am in bliss. Thus I had my own worries about pretension before my meal at Alinea: the full tour plus wine pairings. As Doc wrote, I needn't have worried. One of the remarkable things about Alinea is the manner in which such thoughtfully refined food becomes part of a wonderful meal. It isn't pretentious theatre at all. Quite the opposite: all of the folks with whom we interacted found a terrific balance between doing their jobs and talking with us about our experience. Finally, if you do the pairings, your first sip will wipe away any concerns that this is about anything other than a lot of talented people trying to make your mouth as happy as it can possibly be.

The lips on all of my Sitram cookware are excellent for pouring.

There are no shortages of rice here in Providence, but the prices are shooting up in both major supermarket chains and in small Asian markets. When I was doing some staples shopping at Shaw's, I talked to someone changing the prices on the rice, and she said, "Buy it now before I bring these new prices to the registers." It was a 30% increase. Is that happening elsewhere?

Excellent. I spied some nopales pads at Sanchez Market on Atwells Ave the other day, and I'm working on the fresh masa project. Oh, did I mention that my wife's mom contributed her flour tortilla recipe to The New American Cooking by Joan Nathan? She makes it with shortening; perhaps it's time to take a crack at a lard version.

You know you're talking about instinct when you say "just before."

Loud is fine. It seems to me that grinding flesh is one of the things that need not be quiet.

What exactly does "done" sound like?

Yes! Exactly. I do that all the time and didn't realize it until you wrote that.

Or culture in the broadest sense? It seems to me that the way that cooking has been taught through the ages, from one person to another, younger person, required full attentiveness to a variety of senses. You can't quite say "At just this moment, listen" in a cookbook the way that you can when you're standing in a kitchen with someone. I just thought of another example that came up while I was having a drink with Toby Maloney (Alchemist) the other day: the sound of a shaken cocktail changes as the drink gets colder and the ice breaks up.

I just ordered the smaller of the two Northern Tool grinders shown here. I don't have any bones to grind up (I hope), and even on a busy day I'm not going to test the power of this little rock of machine. Several of the features (reverse button, extra plates, power) sold me. I'll post more about it here -- with more detailed photos -- when I get it.

A few updates. Chilango's has a new menu, and it's more expensive and, frankly, not as interesting so far. You can order the suadero, chorizo, pastor, etc. tacos off the menu. My wife loves Siena but it's damned hard to get a table there these days! We went last night for an impromptu celebration and got turned away -- on a Tuesday at 5:45p. Gotta tip your hat to a place that's so busy early Tuesday.... We ended up going to tried-and-true Sun & Moon, which was, as always, wonderful. I ordered a soju with our usual meal (bibimbap, vegetable dumplings, etc.) which wasn't very good; should've stuck with the rice punch. In addition to the location in Central Falls that's as old as dirt, Stanley's is now open just off Point St near Jake's. Has anyone been yet? Local 121 is showing the same inconsistency as before. I had some apps there the other day that were just ok. The pickles, which were oversalted and had too little vinegar, made me particularly grumpy.

When I was in Anaheim a few years ago I really enjoyed Thai Nakorn and the La Palma Chicken Pie Shop. The latter is fantastic and a great place for kids in particular.

A lot has been written about the use of sight, touch, smell, and, of course, taste when one cooks, but I haven't read much about the importance of listening in cooking. In the last few days, however, I've found myself paying attention to food with my ears instead of my eyes, nose, or tongue, and I'm wondering when others do the same. Some of the examples are obvious. Take popcorn, which draws your attention first by popping slowly, then by machine-gun fire, then by the slowing of pops that indicates it's time to dump out the pot before things burn. But a few others are harder to explain. Does anyone else base their decisions about grinding spices on the pitch of the grinder's whine? I was grinding up cumin the other day and realized I do this as a matter of course: if it's too high, then I get dust, but a low, scratchy noise means I've still got whole hulls in there. The same is true for other seeds and for peppercorns. Then there's deep-frying, which to me has always involved careful listening. I can't quite explain when I know a piece of fried fish is done, but it involves not only color but the slowly diminishing sound of moisture steaming off at the surface. If wait until you can't hear that sound anymore, you've got a slab of dry cod. What other instances require us to use our ears when we cook?

Thanks for the info, Katie! Due to some food restrictions among the 15 guests, I had to make a few changes, and I made three things from this book. Her Favorite Deviled Eggs are fantastic -- but I kind of think most deviled eggs are fantastic. On the other hand, I think that great bean and slaw recipes are hard to come by. The Barbecue Slaw had more balance than a more traditional sweet slaw, which I think went particularly well with the cue we had. Ditto the Barbecued Beans, which were remarkable. Credit is due in part to the folks at Rancho Gordo, whose Good Mother Stallard Beans were meaty and firm. But they took remarkably well to Anderson's treatment, which again demonstrated terrific balance. The recipe says that you need a 3 qt bean pot, but my 2 qt pot worked just fine.

Another vote for the pasta roller. One nice feature is that the height enables you to seal the pasta you're rolling into one continuous loop. That way you only have to feed it through once, stop it half-way, seal one end to the other, and guide the loop through ever-thinner widths. Once you've gotten where you want to go, you cut it off and feed it through the cutter. As has been mentioned up topic, the meat grinder is good for basic use but needs maintenance and careful cleaning. It also produces only good definition at best -- not a big deal if you're making hamburgers from chuck but a big deal if you want your dry-cured sausage to avoid fat smear. And I'll fourteenth the criticism of the stuffer, which is terrible.