Chris Amirault

Had to pause a bit in the project due to a collaborator's lack of availability. In the breach, I ordered some fresh lime from someone called Mrs. Wages, which will enable me to do a test of the new stuff with the old stuff that's been in my cupboard a long time (and was probably on the shelf for a while before I bought it). Does anyone have a recommendation for a hand mill? I'm seeing all sorts of odd things out there like brands named "Generic," and this Corona seems a bit pricey. Steve, can you clarify? Do you mean (1) cook the corn for about 20 minutes or until you are able to peel of the skins; cover without heat over night; peel the skins; OR (2) cook the corn for about 20 minutes or until you are able to peel of the skins; peel the skins; return to the pot and cover without heat over night? I'm assuming it's (1) but I want to be sure.

Most Louisianans would assume crawfish are local unless told otherwise, wouldn't they? I hear tell that that ain't necessarily so, making such assumptions not only wrong but a violation of the unstated pact between purveyor or restaurant and eater concerning very important foods. So who and what is this being aimed at? I can imagine the same sorts of rules being proposed here in RI about quahogs, for example, though not about duck (or crawfish). I can also imagine that, what with the local labeling craze on high-end menus and in high-end stores, the sorts of people who care about where their food came from already know when they're eating farmed Thai shrimp -- or refuse to eat the things for that reason. Todd, when you're in a typical grocery store or mom & pop restaurant, is it easy to know whether you're buying wild gulf seafood versus farmed seafood from the other side of the globe? Does that change depending on where you're shopping or eating?

Moderator's note: The point that robyn makes here -- -- is discussed at greater length in the What Counts as Local in Florida? topic that I've just split off from this one.

Update: got the Oxo sifter for my wife and she's been using it for months. Or, rather, she's had it for months. She's only used it a few times because she hates it. It's too slow and too small for her. Back to the sieves she's gone.

Indeed Moses, welcome! Can you tell us a bit about what it's like to be so devoted to cooking and food while lacking smell and taste? I know that it's probably hard to do that -- no basis for comparison -- but I'm sure we'd all be fascinated to read what you've got to say on the matter. Over here, my head is still stuffed up but my sense of taste is back just in time for a marathon of bacon-smoking and nibbling.

Perhaps you should tell us a bit more about what you're looking for. "Highest level possible," for example, means what? Me, I'd give an arm to spend a month or two at Au Pied De Cochon, but neither my French nor my skills are up to snuff.

As I mentioned here, I thought we could focus on non-rum ingredients, given that there's a rum topic on the subject.

Another vote for braising it. I've also had success roasting it with a very good olive oil and salt a la Radicchio di Treviso, but it has to be very fresh; if it's older it gets too bitter. It's not a recipe, really, but slapping a blue cheese (gorgonzola dolce, say) in endive leaves and plunking a walnut on top is an easy way to take advantage of that bitter crunch.

I'm wondering if there are any cocktail bars worth visiting in Thailand -- Bangkok, Hua Hin, and Chiang Mai specifically. I'll gladly bring along a stash of interesting/wacky items for barter if so. If not, I'll settle for hawker foods instead of night caps. Thoughts?

I got this on the cheap so if it's not what it should be I'll live. From the many reports I read (including here), the Waring I got was the best of the low end. Of course, if you dump a pound or two of anything in a few quarts of oil it tends to drop about 30-50F. We're not talking about a home Frialator here with many gallons of oil at temp, after all. There's simple physics that prevent the Waring or any other home machine from maintaining temperature when a bunch of whatever at room temp is tossed into it.

These parts, New England, people generally hate lamb. Dunno why. But finding anything other than a leg and wee chops (save for halal butchers or Whole Foods) is unusual.

Having a partner who loves fried chicken in the mouth when eating and hates it in the nose after eating, I just got a Waring DF200 off eBay for front porch use and will report back.

A parent at my school has a partner who's away right now and she wants to make him a fine rosemary roast chicken when he returns tomorrow night. She told me to presume no understanding of meat preparation. Here's what I emailed her: 1. Get a good chicken: Today, get a really, really good whole chicken (Bell & Evans, Empire kosher, free range, whatever). They're cheap and a mediocre chicken won't be good no matter what you do. (I'm not including brining directions since you don't have time.) 2. Dry the skin: Bring the chicken home and wash it with very cold water. Toss anything that you don't want and clean out the cavity as well. Towel off the whole thing with paper towels and put the chicken in the fridge overnight so that the skin will dry out. 3. Soften the butter: If you keep your butter in the fridge, put a stick out overnight so it's soft when you want to rub it on the chicken. 4. Bring it to room temperature: A couple of hours before you're going to cook it, take it out of the fridge. You want the chicken at room temp when it goes into the oven. 5. Rub it with your flavorings: Coat the chicken inside and out with whatever you want to flavor it with and at least 3-4 T of the butter, kosher (not table; there's stuff in there you don't want and it's got a lousy texture) salt, cracked pepper, and the minced rosemary you said you wanted to use. If you want to crush a clove or two of garlic and toss that and a sprig of rosemary into the cavity, go right ahead, but do not stuff it. You want air in there. 6. Truss it: If you know how, truss it with linen or cotton twine. The idea is to draw the wings against the breast meat and the legs in toward the body, evening out the cooking of all parts. If you don't know how, fuggedaboudit. It's a pain in the ass and it'll take more time than it's worth. 7. Preheat the oven for at least 30 minutes: People fetishize temperature but it's not such a big deal; if you over- or undercook it, it won't matter what else you did. I like to start the oven at 450F and turn it down immediately to 375-400F. Part of the issue here is smoke: you're going to fill the house if the oven isn't clean and you turn up the oven too high. 450F down to 375F should keep things more or less smoke-free. 8. Cut up vegetables: Roughly chop an onion, a couple of carrots, maybe a stalk of celery, and toss them with a little of the butter. 9. Prep your rack and pan: Put the chicken on a rack that gives it at least 1" clearance on the bottom. Something is better than nothing: scrunch up aluminum foil and use that as a "rack" if you have nothing else. Use a thick pan in the hopes of saving the brown stuff (fond) at the bottom; if it's thin it'll burn. 10. Put it into the oven: Toss the vegetables around the chicken and stick the entire thing into the oven. Rotate it every 20-30 minutes and push those vegetables around as you do. No need to put it in upside down but you can baste it as you want. NO MOISTURE: you're roasting -- dry heat -- so resist the temptation to toss in white wine or whatever. That comes later. 11. Check the temp: It should take a typical roaster about 1 1/4 - 1 1/2 hours, but the key issue here is temperature, and it's a bit tricky. You want to hit the thick meaty part of the thigh, near the thigh bone but not touching it. To make the USDA happy and to insure no pink at the bones, aim for 160F; to have it on the moist side (which I'd rather), aim for 155F. It will continue to cook once you take it out of the oven and should reach 160F or more even if you take it out at 155F. 12. Let it rest while you make a simple jus: When the temp is right, take out the bird and very loosely tent it with tin foil. You worked hard to get crispy skin so don't steam it now. Meanwhile, spoon off most of the butter (or spoon it over the potatoes you made) and put the pan on medium heat with the vegetables, which should be browned. All that brown stuff is extremely flavorful; that's what you want to simmer into a jus with some stock, white wine, or water. So add the liquid you're using (maybe 1/2-1 cup) scrape, stir, and then when you've got the fond dissolved into the sauce, strain it into a serving dish or whatever. Toss the vegetables. 13. Cut it up: Lots of ways to do this, tableside or kitchen, so I won't go into that. Keep that skin in mind: you don't want to stack pieces and soggify the skin. 14. Eat it.

Only it's no more a Cocktail than it is a Martini, right? So shouldn't it be a Knockhill Sour? ← mkayahara raises an interesting question. When can you append "Cocktail" to the end of your... um... libation? Here's Dave Wondrich from Imbibe!: Where do ye stand, then? I confess to a lack of care here: I named the AAA Cocktail knowing that it wasn't a cocktail by classic standards, but "the AAA" seemed lacking for such a swell drink.

Thanks, Peter. I appreciate your responses! Here's a question: whither khantoke? I can't get a clear sense to what extent this Lanna Thai traditional meal and performance is (1) kitsch (2) good food (3) interesting (4) absurd (5) a tourist trap -- and if any or all of those options, whether it's worth trying. For context, I have an article coming out on pu pu platters, so I'm not above a lively combination of those five things.

Basically, it's a bunch of thick metal soldered together with a simple crank and gear mechanism. I think that you could probably use the thing weekly for a decade or two.

If you mean the hand-cranked sausage stuffer, it's fantastic. No problems at all. Worth every penny.

I believe that, humidifier or no, you're getting flavor development the longer you wait. I let my first batch hang for over four weeks: never got too hard, never got mold, so I figured that I was gaining better pancetta by waiting.

I can't quite tell from your description in the other thread whether you meant to name this drink after the Italian national team (most commonly associated with either football or cycling). ← As I said, perhaps a bit too clever for its own good. From the topic itself:

Sometimes you can pay homage to an earlier drink without repeating the base name. Variations on Manhattan neighborhoods are a good, if overused, example; I also liked the Squadra Azzurra, which may be a bit too clever for its own good. Sometimes a name just plunks itself in front of you, like this AAA Cocktail. Sometimes I force it and get things squirm-worthy names like The European Union, the Maize Morning, and the Kingston Winter Cocktail. Dave the Cook is good at naming drinks: his Aviation variation (the Cropduster) is a house favorite, as is his jack-based Sidecar, the Apple Cart.

Farm Fresh RI is the best source for information. We've had very variable experiences with several CSAs in RI: lots of very predictable stuff (lettuce, zucchini, and the like 'til the cows come home) and some spotty quality. In the end, we've opted for the farmers' markets instead. However, given where you're located, you'll have some possibilities closer to home than we have (in South Providence). If you have specific questions, I'll try to answer them.

I think that we're not talking about anger but about swearing, which are distinct. Everyone gets mightily pissed in the kitchen (or workplace, for that matter), whether professional or amateur; the question of how you manage that frustration is another matter. I've heard tell of two very different kitchens around here, for example. One place tends to get pretty hairy as the owner/chef finishes off the first bottle of wine of the night, whereas the other tends to be very business-like: if you screw up, you're likely to get a disapproving look from the boss that night but no f-bombs. Next afternoon, however, the chef who dropped the cuss words would toss an arm over the shoulder and say all is forgiven; the other chef might hand you a pink slip. Different management styles, and not the sort of thing you'd see in the FOH. Talking to cooks who have been in both kitchens I've seen distinct preferences. Some like to know where they stand right away, swears or no, and they want an high-quality environment with immediate feedback. The more corporate approach might appeal to others.

What does "tight budget" mean?

That's the big reason. In addition, with relatively small fridge, it's a good way to have, oh, 30 pounds of bacon and pancetta curing at once. You can move the packets around, distribute the cure, etc. without taking up too much space. OK, without taking up all the space.

Alan's creative thinking got me wondering about my bacon. I often sauté bacon with onions and so on when I'm making beans (which I do a lot), and it got me thinking about a cure using some Mexican ingredients. So I've got about 6 lbs curing now with Ruhlman's basic cure mix and 1 T each of New Mexico chile and ancho chile powder, cumin, Mexican oregano, and black pepper, plus a tsp of cinnamon and a few cloves of garlic crushed. I also have a garlic, black pepper, and rosemary cure on another slab. I'm sold on the vacuum-sealed curing now, btw; I do it that way every time.