MarketStEl

This just in: Jim Romenesko's widely read media scuttlebutt column at Poynter.org posted a link to a Web-only Philadelphia Weekly story reporting that the steakhouse owner who's suing Craig LaBan to make him eat his words may also blow his cover. The story by Steve Volk reports that LaBan has already videotaped testimony in the case on June 5, and that the plaintiff's lawyers plan to use it when the libel case goes to trial. Philadelphia Newspapers, Inc., argued in court that LaBan's anonymity was a trade secret and thus deserved protection. The judge wasn't buying it.

Is it made by Kraft? Way, way back when, what is now called Cracker Barrel Aged Reserve Cheddar cheese (formerly New York Aged Reserve) -- the variety in the black wrapper -- was called Coon Brand Cheddar cheese. To ward off complaints, there was a raccoon on the package. My dad used to buy it from time to time.

Well, that must explain why I've never been able to make a wrap! I only buy flour tortillas, not wraps. Of course, that means that I don't get all those lovely fluorescent colors and strange flavors, but that's OK: I can get them often enough at work, where I can be assured of encountering wraps at least once per semester at a catered lunch meeting or when I run across the leftovers of someone else's catered lunch meeting in the coffee/copier room. My guess is that the wrap caught on in part because it does come in all those lovely fluorescent colors. They may leak, drip, spill and fall apart in your hand, but they look so colorful arrayed on the platter! Even though you can do the same thing with a half sandwich or a hoagie, I also think the idea that you could hold a wrap in just one hand like a hot dog probably also accounts for the wrap's appeal. If you have a hoagie or sandwich that's substantial enough (IOW, a halfway decent specimen of either), you really do need both hands to keep everything under control. So how do Mission's deli wraps do in the off-taste department? Their flour tortillas seem okay. (Maybe I should check out one of the Mexican grocers on 9th Street for a yardstick for comparison.) Edited to add: After looking at the ingredients list for the wraps and the flour tortillas on Mission's Web site, I suspect that Mission wraps will have the same chemical tastes that GlorifiedRice finds in the other wraps. The wraps have a whole bunch more ingredients that look like they were produced in a lab than do the flour tortillas, which only have the usual preservatives.

Wonderful blog, Randi, and I will pick up some of those foil muffin cups and try my hand at that recipe. I hope you're enjoying your day off by the lake after all this activity!

For more than two decades, the J.M. Smucker Co. of Orrville, Ohio, has poked gentle fun at its own name, which some might say is either suggestive or borderline obscene, with its ads for its jams and jellies, which always end with the tag line, "With a name like Smucker's it has to be good." (The Not Ready for Prime Time Players satirized the slogan in a Saturday Night Live sketch in the early 1980s.) But the Smucker name isn't the only one that might be considered unfortunate. Prepping brunch this morning, I grabbed the bag of Vidalia onions I bought a couple of weeks ago at a local supermarket and noticed another such name: Now I'm sure that Raymond Bland and his descendants think the family name is a perfectly fine one. And in many lines of work, it would be. But who goes out looking for Bland Vidalia onions? I certainly don't. Now, there are other family names that are appropriate for food -- in fact, many of those names derive from the occupations the people who have them held, including Butcher and Baker. But certainly there are some other foodstuffs with names that might suggest their makers find other lines of work, or perhaps that the marketing department either had a brain fart or fell asleep at the wheel. Some of you must have run across a few; how about sharing them here?

Expresso? What's that?

So here it is, several weeks into 2007, and nobody's posted the 2007 schedule yet. There. I've taken care of that.

(emphasis added) I think this post gets at the heart of what must have rattled Fat Guy after that Slow Food juggernaut ran him over. The Slow Foodies appear to emphasize simple, traditional, artisanal fare that is made without the benefit (or bane, it appears) of modern technology. The problem, as Fat Guy accurately pointed out in his initial post, is not with the technology itself, it's with the uses to which it's put. The boldfaced statement above captures this.

As for the Philadelphia version of this sandwich, I thought I explained it all for you already. You mean to tell me you weren't paying attention? As for the distinctions among the various types of sandwiches served on torpedo rolls, they are often subtle -- someone untrained in the nuances would have a hard time distinguishing a hoagie from a hero from a sub. (In fact, Dietz & Watson has a poster that I've seen in some delis that carry their products and on the side of their delivery trucks that begins with a pun but then accounts for those similarities; it bears the legend "Make yourself a HERO!" Below "HERO," in smaller type, "Hoagie!" Below that, in smaller type still, "Sub!") Often it's something as simple as the mix of meats; just as often, as any Philly hoagie aficionado would tell you, it's the bread. My recollection is that oil and oregano are not used that often on subs; they are common ingredients on hoagies. The first sub I ever recall eating had mustard on it; traditionally, that's a no-no on a hoagie, which is why I have to speak up when asking for it. There is something about the composition of a po'boy that makes it noticeably different from the other sandwiches in its class. Perhaps it's the use of French bread as opposed to the Italian torpedo rolls found on good hoagies. Perhaps it's the use of fillings that go well beyond the traditional lunch meats -- you can get crab, shrimp and chicken po'boys; the closest I've seen to these among the "big three" torpedo sandwiches are the tuna and seafood salad hoagies, which are different creatures altogether. I recall that the po'boy is in some way a bit more savory in taste than the hoagie/hero/sub. There are toasted subs and hoagies, to be sure; Quiznos did not invent the concept -- it just streamlined and franchised it. But toasting is one thing that distinguishes the grinder from the rest; it's never served cold. The other distinguishing feature is the hollowing out of the bread. The grinders served at Mario's in downtown Kansas City took the concept one step further by not slicing the roll before hollowing it out; instead, they cut off one end of the roll and cut out the inside of the rest of it, then filled the roll with the fillings, plugged it with the cut-off end, and put it in the oven. Edited to add: No apology necessary! We're here to read, chew, discuss and learn, right?

Thanks for posting the bacon-cheddar muffin recipe, and I hope you add this to RecipeGullet too. Am I wrong in thinking that you could produce biscuits from this recipe with only slight modifications? (Omit the sugar, for instance?) I have no muffin pans and bake so rarely I don't think I want to buy some just to make these.

Yeah, but you're begging the question here. No one is going to disagree with you that a *screaming* 9 month old child is a disruption that should not be visited on other diners. But not all babies are the same. [...] The funny thing is, you still get looks from people no matter how the kid behaves. People are just ITCHING to be irritated by a baby. If you ask me, I've had a lot of restaurant table neighbors (for lack of a better term) that I would have traded for a crying baby in a heartbeat. As long as the parents are attentive, the kid is docile and the restaurant isn't completely inappropriate, I don't have any problem with it. I can deal with the occasional baby flare-up a lot easier than a table full of 40 something women opening sex toys and cackling at the top of their lungs. And yes, I have experienced both. ← Well said Tim! Babies can be loud even when not screaming, but I think a happily chirping and happily squealing baby has a right to be so in a noisy restaurant where the adults are doing the same. There is a difference between a quiet restaurant and a boisterous restaurant. ← I'm sure that none of you experience this often, but I get treated to my share of young children fairly frequently on the Route 109 bus. (It's obviously a class thing: they're as infrequent on Regional Rail as they are common on the bus.) Somehow, the squeal of a happy infant or toddler exploring his/her world gladdens me no end, while the caterwauling of an upset child -- which is a blessedly rare event, even on public transport -- is worse than fingernails on chalkboard. That's not to say that I'd want to hear either of them at the Fountain Room, though at a more "casual" fine dining establishment, I wouldn't mind hearing the happy kid at all -- he or she would complement the happy voices in the lower registers. For instance, I think a happy, well behaved young child wouldn't be out of place at all at Mercato, which spills out onto Spruce Street all the time anyway. Pardon this verbose "me too," but context is everything here. And a parent who brings in a young child who ceases to behave well and does nothing to correct the situation is worse than the child. You don't have to watch Today to find out about these things, though you learn about them faster that way. I can see examples of similar behavior in the advice columns in the daily newspapers. (And FTR, I do watch Today every morning.) You're probably right that a 9-month-old is probably too young for a restaurant experience of any kind, but there are places where the infant can be accommodated better, some of which serve real food. Aside: I have this vague recollection that you live in or near my apartment building. Or am I hallucinating?

I'm glad you left the door open for more than one favorite, for it does depend on the kind of sandwich or snack platter I'm putting together. For plain old sandwiches on bread, my favorite lunch meat is liverwurst. Sliced thin -- I use a cheese slicer and never let the deli slice it for me, for the slicing machines can't handle slicing it as thin as I like it while a cheese slicer does the job beautifully. On top of this goes either Muenster or Swiss cheese. I even have brand preferences here, which would probably change were I to splurge on what a good German deli carried: Kahn's, Hatfield and Dietz & Watson, in that order. Lebanon bologna, the praises of which lancastermike sang in his first foodblog, runs a close second. Savory or sweet -- it doesn't matter much to me; there's a time and a place for each. Sweet Lebanon bologna gets a Cheddar variety or American cheese; savory Lebanon bologna gets Swiss. For a hoagie, give me capacola, Italian hard salami, and bologna or mortadella. If you've got some, toss some sopressata (sweet preferably) and prosciutto on the roll for good measure. Add sharp Provolone and slather the roll with mayonnaise and mustard, then add the veggies (including both sweet and hot pickled peppers) and oregano, and I'm good to go. Snack platter? Roast beef and turkey with Swiss, Cheddar and sharp Provolone. You can add more cheeses and dispense with the meat entirely for all I care.

I agree, although I still think of Velveeta more as fish bait than food. ← The fish would turn up their gills at the stuff. But it really does make good macaroni and cheese. Along with other cheeses in the mix, of course.

Thanks for bringing Marley into your blog! She looks like she's having a blast in the kitchen! How long do you think it will be before she can work in a commercial kitchen? Or might she do better as a private cook/chef, given her needs for time and space? Those muffins look fantastic! I will refrain from my usual comments about grilling vs. barbecue, because when you're cooking in those quantities, the time involved in getting everything set up properly, then tending to the meat, would be prohibitive. At least you cook the ribs properly, even if it's in an oven, in advance. And thanks, Toliver, for the important note on transforming the baked potatoes into home fries. I might even try the hash brown trick.

The town where Cutco is made that is. I'm not sure if that came across, I was reviewing the thread and I didn't think that it did. Anyhow, back to the conversation at hand. ← Ah, thanks. I grew up using Cutco knives. I think Mom and Dad (or more likely Dad) bought them from a traveling salesman (along with a stainless steel cookware set from a manufacturer called "Lo-Heet" that I've never seen since). I didn't know any better. Knives are one of the few objects in which I believe the phrase "you get what you pay for" is accurate. With knives, it appears to me, you just can't cut corners on price--you want a knife that will do the job right, you had better be ready to shell out for one. That said, I did have a set of serrated knives from J.A. Henckels International (their cheap line) that worked well, for a while, and worked okay for a while longer after I purchased a sharpener designed to sharpen serrated-edge knives. But after about four years' use, I needed to replace the chef's knife. The 8-inch Wusthof I got for Christmas 2001 still works beautifully -- and as I see from this thread, there are knives out there that are a lot better than that. However, even though relative to that serrated knife set, $90 for one knife isn't cheap, given how much better the Wusthof cuts and how much longer it lasts, it's a bargain.

Having been to the Ferry Building (though not on a market day, alas) before reading Richman's article, I was ready for what he had to say, and I have to agree with Rancho Gordo (who gets a plug in the article): His article is actually a love letter. But it's a love letter from an Easterner who enjoys a pastime also commonly practiced in farm country, sacred cow-tipping. I only got a few paragraphs into his rant on New Orleans before I knew I wasn't going to think of it as highly as I did this piece, or his article on the best burgers in America, where he does manage to honor Calvin Trillin's maxim ("Anyone who doesn't believe the world's best hamburger is served in their hometown has no soul.") to an extent. But that's in part because I don't think he appreciates what is distinctive about New Orleans. The French Quarter may be a caricature of itself, but I'd hardly call its residential structures soulless. This article is as far from that New Orleans hit job as Kansas City is from either coast. And, frankly, San Francisco does set itself up for that kind of ribbing. IMO San Franciscans share with Bostonians a conviction that they live in God's Chosen City, but it expresses itself differently: Bostonians are arrogant, San Franciscans self-satisfied. I included that San Francisco Chronicle article in my trip report for a reason: You have a big city where everyone goes on about how diverse and tolerant they are, and yet all the blacks (including a cousin of mine) are over there, in Oakland. (Which, it appears, gets about as much respect as Kansas City, Kansas, does.) (emphasis added) Hear, hear! This is the challenge that all the food-for-a-better-world people face, IMO. Some people are trying to tackle this head-on; one of these Wednesdays, I plan on taking off early from work to see what the Food Trust's farmers' market is offering the good folk of Chester. (It's set up right in the middle of Edgmont Avenue -- there's no traffic on that street, so it's no problem -- right by Chester train station.) Yes, I will report back to the group, on the Pennsylvania board. And when next I'm in San Francisco, I intend to do two things: spend more time exploring Oakland, and visit the Ferry Building when the farmers' stalls are set up.

Home fries from baked potatoes? Do tell me more! I've usually either parboiled the potatoes, then shredded them, or sliced raw potatoes and onions thinly, then tossed the potatoes into a pan with about a tablespoon of oil. How do you proceed from the baked potato to home fries? I think I'd like to try this. If I can do it, so can you! Your week is what it is. You're just sharing it with the rest of us. Though some of us try to add something special to our routine, it's not necessary at all. One of the finest blogs I've read was Lori in PA's week with her children; all she did that week was what she usually does (well, that plus a dinner near Gettysburg). I'm telling you, I'm fed up with all this PC stuff! Oops! You're talking about President's Choice products! I don't know whether they're carried in any US supermarkets anymore; Acme Markets in the Philadelphia area had the line before Albertson's acquired the chain. My recollection was that the line was of very high quality. There was a thread that ran for quite a while in which eGulleteers confessed their love of store brand products and shared their tips on which ones truly offered you better quality for less. I can't seem to unearth it with the eG search engine. I'm pretty sure there were several paeans to PC posted in it.

Well, no, but Daily News editorial cartoonist Signe Wilkinson won the editorial cartooning Pulitzer in 1992. Sorry, just had to toss that tidbit in. Carry on...

What Snowangel said. I was going to guess somewhere in the American Great Plains when I saw the teaser photo; I was at once way off base and not that far off at all -- rural Ontario and the eastern US Midwest have much in common terrain-wise. Welcome back to Blogland! Whatever possessed you to agree to this week for a return appearance with that weekend schedule?

Just wanted to repeat my "Thank You!" for all the feedback I've gotten in response to my initial question. I sent the press release out to regional media plus selected industry trade publications yesterday. Banfi gets a fair bit of ink in it, but some of that ink represents a plug for our School of Hospitality Management. The release is available on Widener's Web site.

Only halfway. The writer is making a few IMO accurate assumptions about the rest of the country, but then promptly forgetting that Manhattanites (for it's really these "New Yorkers" we're talking about; the other four boroughs are different, though parts of Brooklyn increasingly less so) simply adapt to their unique locational circumstances in this as in so many other arenas. It's true that fewer rich Manhattanites tool around in large expensive cars of their own or live in large houses than rich folks elsewhere in the US do. (And no rich Manhattanites have houses on large plots of land, unless you count their summer places in the Hamptons.) In the rest of the country, those two objects are the most common and most easily identifiable status markers. But it's not true that there are "fewer status indicators" in absolute terms. It's just that the status indicators are different, and often impossible for the out-of-towner to discern without education in what to look for. Things like where one is seated when one goes out to eat, for instance, and for that matter at what restaurants, take on increased importance in Manhattan because one cannot whip out a Beemer to settle the status issue. The presence of doormen in apartment buildings is another status marker that takes on added significance. I could go on some more, but you get the idea. Edited to add: For the sentence quoted to be accurate, the only change that needed to be made was for the parentheses to be deleted.

Bryant's or Gates'? You all gotta get away from the coasts every now and then. This is exactly analogous to "Pat's or Geno's?" because in both cases, neither place is the best in town, but they are the ones everyone outside the city knows about. Perhaps the argument is so heated because the crabcake, like the cheesesteak and barbecue, is a rather humble dish that anyone with a modicum of skill (and, in the case of barbecue, patience) can make competently as long as he or she uses the right ingredients. (Although neither The French Laundry nor The Fat Duck could even remobely be considered humble. So what are they doing in the above list anyway?) I'm not certain of this, but it seems that the more likely it is that anyone can make a passable version of something, the more likely it is that you will have passionate argument over which is the best example of the professional version of the item. Of course, this definition excludes those purely industrial products like Chex and corn flakes, so perhaps it's not a broad enough hypothesis. But within its own niche, it seems to work.

You're welcome. I'm glad to hear that it's only big city New Yorkers that are subject to this particular insecurity. And even more glad to know that only 800 people in the world are affected by it. It's good to be around the real, down-home folk here. ← There where a defunct local bank ran an ad in the Metro with the legend: "The most important bank in the most important city in the world thinks you're important too." Yeah, no status anxiety in DC, no siree. We're all content to feast our hearts out in cute BYOs, clog our arteries on meat- and cheese-filled sandwiches, and pick over produce at the Reading Terminal (or pick over picked-over produce on 9th Street) up here (or down here, depending on which side of 30th Street Station you're reading this from). You want real lack of pretense, I can show you where to find it. Yes, I know your tongue is planted firmly in your cheek. Just be careful to move it out of the way before your next mouthful of food, lest you bite it. Oh. Raw power, huh? No food anxieties there? Wonderful. ← DC is the only city I've been in where you really can eat prestige. Okay, maybe that's not really prestige that's being served on Capitol Hill, 'cause that wouldn't complement either the power or the black bean soup in the Senate cafeteria. But it's something like it. My one-upmanship is of the Sam-Walton, more-frugal-and-practical-than-thou, you-can-get-better-for-less variety, which usually doesn't play well among the wannabe elite, for whom conspicuous consumption is the name of the game. But just you wait until I win the million dollars.* Then, once I get that house in town with a yard (or deck), you're gonna see barbecue the likes of which is unknown to Northeasterners, even those who participate in Kansas City Barbecue Society-sanctioned contests. (*I auditioned for the "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?" contestant pool in NYC last Thursday. I'm still waiting to hear if I'm in the pool. I did pass the qualifying test; eight of us did out of a group of about 50.) I grew up on the Upper West Side, but I live on the Upper East Side now. I can't afford the Upper West Side anymore. Soon, all I'll be able to afford is the Bronx. ← I'm sure we will be welcoming you to...to...to... ...to the sixth borough before too long, probably with a nice dinner at Pif or someplace like it.

What was it that Mark Twain said about laws and sausages again? Some folks just gotta learn the hard way, I guess... ←

ya wanna do something right, ya gotta do it yerself: Nearest SEPTA service: Bus Route 70 (Fern Rock Transportation Center to Torresdale or Tacony via Cottman Avenue) from Fern Rock Transportation Center (Broad Street Line and Regional Rail routes R1, R2, R3 and R5) to 5th Street and Oak Lane Road. Continue one block north on 5th to just before Cheltenham Avenue.