MaxH

It ought to be! After all, they started the whole thing, more than 200 years ago. (Pernod Fils founded 1805 by Henri-Louis Pernod, acc. to Conrad's standard 1988 book.) "Pernod" was known as an absinthe for more years than it has been known as the non-absinthe pastis that the brand became after the absinthe ban.

Yes Mike, that's my point. A consequence of sealing the bag is to seal in not just flavor abstractly, but volatile flavor specifically. (Depending on the bag material, some components still diffuse out through it -- my chemist friends are expert at recommending particular plastic wraps to hold in the overpowering aromas of old Epoisses and other Burgundian cheeses, on this principle -- but that's very slow compared to loss of aromatics from an unsealed container.)

There is a difference. A crock pot is an open system, whereas in sous vide we have a closed system. In one experiment, I cooked my test dish three ways: traditional, crock pot and sous vide. ... The sous vide was not only better than the crock pot, but better than the traditional treatment. I attribute this to the fact that by cooking it longer and in a sealed bag, the flavors are enhanced.Yes indeed (my crockpot comparison was tongue-in-cheek, Mikels). More seriously, a profound physical factor at work here gets little mention. That's the volatility of flavor components, which sealed or "closed" cooking suppresses. The subject is important enough in other contexts to fill technical textbooks, and I often wonder (when braising an aromatic stew, say) how much we enjoy the enticing aroma at the cost of the final dish -- it all comes from the same pot. Such flavor changes sometimes get mistakenly attributed to oxygen, when actually volatile esters escape from open vessels regardless of oxygen. There's a famous parallel situation in wines, where people carelessly attribute rapid flavor shifts in open bottles to "oxidation" until they learn that tests show the same flavor shifts in oxygen-free atmosphere, from light volatile or dissolved-gas species departing the wine.

Sorry to hear of your complaints, eyedoc. FYI the Laundry is known for a full-service sommelier department, which is to say it often can find wines meeting diners' specifications, once known. Story quoted above reads as though the somm. first suggested a wine closest in type to the missing one, then adjusted for price after that was explained as a requirement -- and to the diner's ultimate satisfaction. That would be considered expert service by most standards, unless the price requirement was also specified just before the first substitute suggestion, in which case it's not a "crime" but a simple mistake and given the happy outcome, why on earth complain? ("If any among you is without error, let him cast the first stone ...") Also, if I read "last Friday" right to mean last Friday, i.e. May 16, then the heat issue would be in clearer perspective had the story added that this occurred in a record-breaking heatwave causing similar problems regionwide. (I was in the North Bay but in a "cooler" subregion, and also sweltering Friday; most of us attributed it to nature.) If the date was different then that doesn't apply, and it also wasn't last Friday.

Just as an aside, this reminds me of the prosaic but related crock pot. (For anyone who doesn't remember the time or place, crock pots became a trendy US consumer appliance maybe 25 or 30 years back, with general publications suddenly full of recipes using them, housewares shops devoting departments to them, etc. Like microwave ovens earlier, and automatic bread machines later. Like automatic coffee makers in the 1980s, cocktails and their equipment in late 1990s, crêpe pans in early 1970s, panini grillers today, etc. etc.)

Good points. Thanks.

Let's see: 1892 and 65 BC given as dates for two of the recipes, and foie gras was already an ancient delicacy when it was popular in Roman times (dating to the Egyptian empires). My point isn't to quibble with Mallet, but to repeat a principle about timelessness emphasized a few decades ago by a popular US author on European cooking (Julia Child or maybe Marcella Hazan -- not sure at the moment, though the remark's been in my food quot'ns file for 20 years). The specific comment was about about good stews, and how they survive all manner of food fads and trends, belonging instead to a category A. J. Liebling labeled "the I-beam of cooking," the sort of dishes that can always please people whose criteria are good and satisfying flavor. I think that language could apply also to some of the sorts of foods markk mentioned above.

Can you elaborate on why you found that interesting, slkinsey?

Entirely reasonable. As they indicate, thujone concentration in the starting wormwood (A. absinthium) has some range. (It's listed in botanical chemistry references, and reproduced in many absinthe tutorials.) Also, a physical attribute I cited some years (!) back in this thread suggests, even if you didn't know the actual result, reduction of thujone from the initial alcoholic macerate to the final distillate: Thujone's boiling temp. is in the same neighborhood of alcohol's but is higher. This excellent recent careful analysis of pre-ban absinthes (Lachenmeier et al.) has gotten some circulation online already. It adds deeper understanding to the firmly-established point of low thujone content in absinthes, and helps to reduce long-obsolete absinthe mythology. In my opinion we still have some way to go before that mythology is gone. Echoes of Magnan's late-1800s anti-thujone campaign still surface in presuppositions that thujone is "toxic," that its avoidance is a priority concern in absinthes, and its absence a boon. Or (separate point) even a revelation. ("Toxic" isn't a yes-no but a quantitative attribute. Everything is lethal at some dosage, even water. Since about the 1930s, science has known and publicized that thujone is in many herbs including herbs commonly eaten. Many ingested substances cause convulsions in high dose, including alcohol and the vegetable xanthines -- caffeine etc. The latter at similar dosages to thujone. Long-public data imply that the strength or lack of thujone has no effect on the lethal dosage level of an absinthe, because alcohol dominates it by a factor of a hundred or more. And writers on the new low-absinthe thujone analyses might enrich their results by placing them in context of the published claims of chemical analysis showing thujone-free absinthe already in the early 1900s.)

Can't answer the recipe request, but note (in case anyone didn't know this) gum arabic (gum Acacia) is a classic vegetable gum used in foods, candies, glues, etc. It's sold bulk in dried strips, or ground into powder. You soak it in cold water and then heat to dissolve (if I remember), much like gelatine. The dried form is concentrated and probably so cheap you could experiment freely. I'd look for it in one of those diverse bulk herb sections found in "organic" US supermarkets, but there must be many other sources, including online. A lab supply firm or compounding pharmacy would surely have it too.

Just as a point of history, Devotay, you omitted many other significant movements. For example Communism (Marx, Lenin, and many others were well-to-do professionals), plantation slavery in the American colonies, sundry exploitative quasi-religious 20th-century cults, revolutionary terrorism in the 1960s and 70s (bombs in US and Europe planted by college students with trust funds). That passing rhetorical point has its flip side.

Don't forget that the silly, the overwrought, and the faddish have influenced cooking (and restaurants) for centuries, if the historical and reference books I've seen are accurate. I'm told Escoffier's famous formalizing and publicizing (and numbering) of "approved" French recipes (as the Guide Culinaire) was a reaction to cooks passing off any old thing under the name of a famous dish. (Modern parallels: genre products like Fettuccine Alfredo and "French" salad dressing in 20th-century North America; "Bolognese" meat sauces that are different all over Europe, none authentic.) Gault and Millau's "nouvelle" cuisine of the 1970s then reacted, in turn, to overreliance on a recipe canon at the expense of ingredient quality and creativity. Meanwhile as you point out well, real comfort food continues to be made and served in bistros. From sound ingredients and folksy touches -- confits and innards and meat pies all figure in the posting above. John and Karen Hess once remarked that cooking's history is largely the story of housewives making something interesting from cuts the gentry wouldn't touch ...

Hi Ce'Nedra. Some useful and relevant recommendations, and in-depth discussion, appeared here a few months ago under the thread Chinese Cookbook Recommendations which you might remember. (This new thread seems to be repeating parts of that earlier one.)

The "Boston Cooking School" Cookbook, popularly called the "Fannie Farmer" for generations, was the leading introductory and general-purpose US cookbook from the early 1900s through maybe the peak of its influence in the 1950s and 60s. It receded I think in importance with the explosion of new and even mainstream cookbook titles (deSablon tosses off a dramatic statistic about that in her book). After some hiatus, a sort of revival edition appeared a few years ago under a "Fannie Farmer" title. All of this I gathered from reading countless 20th-century references to the book, and my own observations about it since the 1960s. (I've had the very popular 1965 edition at hand for decades, and I have the 1921. The book was used in my family in the San Francisco Bay area since the 19-teens or earlier.) Popular competition appeared eventually in the form of the Rombauers' Joy of Cooking (especially in the 1943 edition) although the competing books had different styles and histories. The Rombauers' started as an informal set of Midwestern family recipes from canned food, and was almost completely reworked in each of multiple major revisions. The Fannie Farmer took a much more systematic, almost obsessively "scientific" approach especially in the early editions I've read. Neither title had the influence in its time of the great US 19th-century cookbooks (by Mary Randolph and especially Eliza Leslie) -- discussed in various threads here -- but all four are regarded together (and displayed in the Copia food-wine history museum as) the principal four popular US cookbooks of the last 200 years. The Fannie Farmer has gotten some telling criticism. I don't offhand know any that's harsher than the chapter it occupies in the Hesses' unsparing 1977 critique The Taste of America. Whatever factors promoted the revision in US popular cooking sensibility through most of the 20th century, away from fresh seasonal ingredients, and sensitivity to quality; away from learning to cook from previous generations to learning to cook from cookbooks -- the Fannie Farmer symbolized these shifts to the Hesses. (Much of the renaissance in US popular and restaurant cooking, just beginning when the Hesses wrote, is a reversal of those trends, a rediscovery of older cooking wisdoms.) However, when I look at the early-20th-century Fannie Farmer editions, I don't see quite the Puritanical suppression of flavor and enjoyment you might expect if you read only the Hesses' account. It's true that the cookbooks' tone leans to the severe and utilitarian, but flashes of life and joy and ancient or cosmopolitan insight are there too.

I wonder how the quality will be importing it all the way from France. Although I think Canada also has a foie gras farm.To say nothing of the ban's underlying perversity (recalling US alcohol Prohibition of 1919-1933, which ultimately increased both average alcohol consumption and the number of its outlets). The Sonoma (California) farm targeted by this ban was known for more humane fat-poultry husbandry than standard European practice. (It's unnecessary to either force-feed or immobilize the birds to grow fat livers -- something they do anyway by themselves, storing energy seasonally -- yet those practices are the mantra of demagoguery against US foie gras production.) Around 10 years ago, as fresh FG was becoming fashionable in California restaurants, professional cook friends dropped in on the Sonoma farm to see for themselves, when the animals were getting very fat. (No one I've heard from personally who denounces FG ever did that.) They reported their surprise at the realities. (The birds mobbed their feeder in a variant of Hitchcock's The Birds -- it was the feeder who warranted sympathy, if anyone -- and the birds appeared to be having a fine time.) Ordering FG produced elsewhere would return to the norm before the current fresh-FG trend. In previous decades, much FG for US use came precooked and tinned, from Europe (with whatever poultry-feeding practices prevailed at its source).

Sorry I didn't sooner see salsa72's reply (following my previous related postings by a couple of months). When I summarize tersely, it invites misinterpretation (especially if the misinterpretation better supports the interpreter's worldview); it isn't the worst such case in this thread, but FYI, my "authoritative sources bearing on [absinthe's] history and demystification" are chemical and biological texts, don't confuse them with popular sources like Conrad that I mention separately. In the self-appointed absinthe information sources of recent years, I regularly find some elements of perspective missing. This does not reflect on those sources' other, valuable factual and critical content. But a reader familiar with any of the following may question its absence: Sense of the scope of absinthe's scientific demystifications by the 1930s or so. Sense of what's wrong in lurid, anachronistic notions of "toxicity" that omit vital context (quantitative factors, related food substances), completely changing the message. Details like these are are technical, found in technical books. (Popular histories -- Conrad, etc. -- are not my basis for technical details; those books are famously weak technically.) Finally, I sometimes find standard absinthe information expressed by new tutorials in atypical or idiosyncratic ways; example appended at the end. I function here therefore as a critic of absinthe writing, who has read a bit of it from the last hundred years and gleaned some picture of just what stuff "we know now," also what was actually known 60 years ago yet still doesn't inform the comments I get from salsa72 or others with similar perspectives. Please stop asserting over and over that more is known today about absinthe's thujone content than a few years ago. That well-established point was already belabored on this site by Hiram by 2005 or so. Most technical points I raise are unrelated to that one, yet I keep seeing it in responses. (It's like those auto-reply email programs that give you canned irrelevant responses when you write into an online business about something it doesn't know about.) (I'd also request you people please stop interpolating favorite meanings into my comments, then replying to those meanings -- if the posting record suggested that this would do any good!) I don't have the New Yorker number handy currently to quote page and graph (alas!), but you'll find precisely what I cited above -- Breaux's peculiarly selective comment from a technical reference -- if you read. (Re-evaluate my "assumptions" about absinthe?!? The "assumptions" I was fed ?!? Please point out one.) Appendix: A minor point of language I've posted elsewhere. Traditional recipes republished in recent decades (including an 1855 French recipe from the origin point of large-scale absinthe production) specify two steps using relevant herbs. The first (main) herbal extraction uses (among other flavoring herbs) the eponymous Artemisia absinthium, common decorative and medicinal plant almost always called "wormwood" in US, occasionally "grand wormwood" or "grand absinthe" in foreign sources. After distillation, other herbs add green color, the relevant one is "Roman wormwood" in the recipe I mentioned, alternatively "petit wormwood" or "petit absinthe." Currently, the wormwoodsociety.org FAQ file and the Wikipedia absinthe entry (which share authorship and are both much more recent than most sources I quote) introduce A. absinthium as "grand wormwood." Apparently some journalistic sources are even copying this now. It's unusual and potentially an issue, given that the following better-known sources all call A. absinthium just "wormwood:" the definitive US materia-medica compendium from the USDA's director of that department; all the various editions I have of the standard international biochemical handbook; two standard pharmacology texts; three classic drinks reference books; Harold McGee; the American Heritage Dictionary; Conrad's classic 1988 US absinthe book; and virtually all other anglophone writing I've seen on absinthe liquors from the last 70 years.

Marché in Menlo Park has been one of the handful of independent restaurants in the SF peninsula and South Bay known for high-end dining (and custom gastronomic banquets); I've often summarized Bulka's style at Marché as elegant comfort food. (For instance a single huge duck ravioli drizzled with meat juices, with bitter greens and garlic puree, to accompany smoky red Burgundies. Like village Dujacs that were on the list, good-value classy wines not particularly fashionable at the time or "highly rated," thank God.) In a message yesterday, Bulka said he'd left Marché's kitchen in capable hands while remaining a business partner. "Howie's Artisan Pizza" is a new venture planned for Palo Alto, early 2009. "In addition to the best darn pizza you ever ate, you can look forward to Mussels Baked in the Wood Oven with Garlic, Shallots, Hot Chili and Oregano, Howie's Chopped Salad, Daily Vegetarian Soup, Homemade Soft Serve Ice Cream ... all prepared with local, wholesome, artisan products. See us at www.howiesartisanpizza.com. " Promising a friendly family alternative to "the junky restaurants that are taking over our world." Chef's blog at blog.howiesartisanpizza.com. Hints of such interests were long evident in cooking at Marché. We can always use interesting pizza. The best access to pizza delivery services in the US is, or was, not far away, in Sunnyvale (according to published statistics and supporting the frenetic nutritive demands of silicon valley over the years), but that was more about quantity than quality.

Watch out, Chris -- you're in dangerous territory. Going beyond discussing behaviors to inferring the motivations behind them is popular, but often wrong. Because the inferrer brings different assumptions or mental models, and infers from within those -- not from within the world of the person doing the behavior, which can be very different. Such inferences consequently often reveal more about the person making them than the object of inference. I'd swirled wine in glasses in 30 years of wine tastings (to concentrate the aromas) before I read a claim online that people swirl wine for show. (It turned out the people saying so were not much into wine themselves, and I guess it does happen. But not from anyone I know.) Another example: Cries of snobbery or class consciousness greeted frank comments by restaurant servers that certain order patterns consistently predicted a "bad table" and low tips. The servers then explained that hard-earned experience, not notions, lay behind these rules of thumb. Sample comments below, note the salad dressing data. "[Experienced waiters] notice distinct patterns in the habits of diners. ... There are particular habits, entrees, drinks, or even salad dressings that, over time, waiters will associate with troublesome tables and poor tips. ... In my experience, well-done steaks, white Zinfandel, frozen drinks, and thousand-island dressing are among things that waiters associate with bad tables. [Good waiters should offer good service regardless, but in these cases they have a real expectation of lower average tips.]" "I waited tables in college ... there are definitely tipping trends related to what a person orders. Blue Cheese, good; 1000 Island, bad. Mixed drink, good; frozen drinks (especially virgins), bad. Steak medium rare, good; Well done bad...."

A little related science and history, which I've picked up in various places over many years. These two factors are interrelated, and may be food for thought: 1. An important role of "bitter" taste sense is that it steers us away from potential food sources in nature that are poisonous. It seems clearly to be an evolved ability. Substances like alkaloids (some of which medically are very important) occur in plants and are classic sources of bitterness. Other natural bitter substances (in mold excreta for instance) are associated with spoilage. 2. Many specialty cordials, herbal wines ("Vermouth"), etc. began as medicines, even if that's not their main use today. Extracts from gentian root are still important as digestive tonics and -- in case anyone hasn't noticed -- are the foundation of many common "bitters" whether sold for flavoring (Angostura) or over-the-counter medicine (Underberg in Germany). Though some people experiment with Underberg as flavoring, it's sold as a digestive aid; it and its European competitors Wunderlich, Stonsdorfer, Fernet Branca, etc etc. have different formulations, but typically include gentian (and one or more of the classic carminative herbs like anise and peppermint). All of these herbs appear prominently in older technical reference books as (albeit mild and low-toxicity) pharmaceutical materials. So: Many drugs naturally are bitter, while many "bitters" naturally are drugs.

Not necessarily. Though the best Reubens I've had or made used Russian dressing, writings suggest that Thousand Island was long an alternative in this (basically mid-20th-century) classic sandwich. I advocate Russian dressing as more savory, it stands up well to sauerkraut and spiced meats. Russian dressing was popular a few generations back as a garnish to some salads (like salads laying out arrays of vegetables and meat or fish), and it's the classic sauce in a crab or shrimp "Louis."Your link didn't work for me, Chris, but below is what I posted originally to a local New Orleans forum four years ago to a question about local connections with Russian dressing. (I posted it then to other food fora, but don't find it on eG in quick check.) Research on Russian Dressing March 16 2004, 12:04 AM I ... did not find this salad dressing in either of two editions of Brennan’s cookbooks or in Keyes. A quick and inadequate check (... differences of convention and sometimes language) failed to find it in national cookbooks of Russia, England, or France; Austria’s (early 20th c.) has it and suggests adding a touch of caviar. The Guide Culinaire (France, 1921, in Cracknell and Kaufmann’s translation) includes (Recipe 204) a suspiciously related Russian Mayonnaise (a fresh Mayonnaise as most Mayonnaises historically were) with tarragon vinegar and horseradish; this is thickened with gelatin and "principally used for binding vegetable salads together for moulding." Everybody shows Russian salads, a format rather than a saucing, internationally popular for 130 years (called "Olivier" salads in Russia, after a French chef in 1880s Moscow who popularized them -- like the Caesar in Mexico in 1925 if I remember right). Neither André Simon’s (1952) nor Dumas’s (1873, Colman’s 1958 edition) reference books mention anything close to Russian dressing. However when we get to the United States it becomes inescapable. I vaguely recall it in the vast tell-all Delmonico cookbook [The Epicurean], unavailable at the moment. Morrison Wood (With a Jug of Wine, 1949, a famously flavor-intensive, semi-mainstream US cookbook that fought against the creeping post-war blandness) has a recipe similar to what I quoted earlier, and De Gouy (Revised Edition, 1948) lists three Russian Dressing recipes varying in the "savory bits" I mentioned in my recipe; both of these authors also list -- wait for it! -- a Thousand Island Dressing that is a very bland Russian with lots of mayonnaise and with whipped cream added in case the bland flavors were still too assertive. -- If the ages of humankind are accountable Stone, Bronze, Iron, etc., then the ages of the US can be further subdivided. The last half of the 20th Century was the Age of Mayonnaise.

Presence of cheese is slightly controversial, or individual (like lemon peel vs. olives in a Martini). And don't forget, "Thousand Island" dressing traditionally is a Russian diluted with more mayonnaise, and in early recipes, also unsweetened whipped cream (to kill off any surviving savory flavor). I dug up the history a few years ago and posted it. Well put. Discussion a few years ago: some defended sweet bagel flavorings, arguing they tasted good. Others argued against. I maintain the problem isn't that they don't taste good (they probably do). The problem is that they're wrong. Some see it immediately, some never. Like an ear for music, or words.

Word to the wise, Dr T: I wouldn't go there. Not because you aren't right (you are) but because "Bolognese" meat sauce has become such an international catch term, a genre. Like "Xerox" for photocopying. You can travel all over Europe -- for that matter, even the US -- and taste dozens of "Bolognese" meat sauces. All different, many of them good, and none like the Real Enchilada. It's a common café or fast-food offering. (This should be taken as an honor to the original ...) Also for you young folks who don't remember 35 or more years ago (when it was still an ethnic niche item and not yet universal), "pesto sauce" wasn't widespread US language until the famed mainstreaming circa 1980 (celebrated by cover photos, with linguine, in leading US food magazines, and comments by columnists -- I could show them to you). Earlier, one common term was pasta "al pesto," referring of course to the tool, which everyone understood who made it. "Pesto sauces" are a simplification of that. (Earlier still, the original Gourmet Cook Book wrote of Genoa garlic and herb sauces, no "pesto" mentioned.)

Very good points, FFB. That's important! (How could I have forgotten?) But I came to Peeps only as an adult -- no connoisseur. (Also there's no truth, or very little truth, in the theory they'll fight each other, when equipped with toothpick "swords" and stimulated by radio energy inside a microwave oven. Children, do not try this. ;-) "Caesar" salad conceits deserve (and no doubt, have) their own threads. Caesar (the one in Mexico ca. 1925) is immortal for popularizing a genuinely delicious salad, but would be shocked at some of what goes under its name today. (Like elderly Kentucky Col. Hiram Sanders famously protesting once that the fried chicken served at some outlets was "finger-licking bad.") This business of asking people if they want any anchovy at all in the salad -- it actually asks whether the customer wants a Caesar salad, or not. (But then we also have "fat-free half-and-half" in supermarkets, a straight contradiction in terms -- US "half and half" being by definition a fat-rich milk, half cream and half milk, and sold precisely for its fat.) O tempora ...

You know the history, I gather, Chris. Maybe you saw the rehashes online. A lot was posted from Europe, especially about 10 years ago, on rec.food.cooking (the prototype online food forum). Below from a 2005 thread (non-">" words are mine): > ... Crash, there is no such animal as Alfredo SAUCE. Fettucini Alfredo, or any pasta Alfredo, is > simply pasta dressed with butter and Parmesan cheese. No sauce, no cream, no eggs, no nothing else. Here's JF Mariani, something of an authority on history of Italian-food adaptations in the US: " fettuccine Alfredo. ... staple of Italian-American restaurants since the mid-1960s. It was created in Rome in 1920 by Alfredo de Lellio... The original dish was made with a very rich triple butter di Lellio made himself, three kinds of flour, and only the heart of the best parmigiano. ... Because most American cooks could not reproduce the richness of the original butter, today the dish almost always contains heavy cream." From that, recent US commercial versions of Alfredo "sauce." More references if you read down in this chatty thread; V. Sack (from Germany) did some original research in Italy, I think it's cited there (if not, it's traceable from there). Separately, this new phenomenon of journalists mentioning gin Martinis is mainly a generational thing. A commentator online (circa 35 yrs old) wrote of the discovery of cocktails during his adult lifetime. Having been say 10 yrs old in 1982 when cocktails were at about their low US ebb, he could not have remembered their fading from long popularity and thus their rediscovery in his lifetime. Likewise, vodka Martinis have been especially popular the last 10 years. But for most of the last 100-plus years a "Martini" meant the original drink of gin and vermouth (and after 1925 or so, pickled vegetables too, for nontraditionalists ;-) .

Fat Guy has presented a balanced and insightful perspective on the new EPD products here, IMO. I'm not a user either, but I know people who are. I've noticed (a) these dedicated electronic books are remarkably well human-engineered, even for their current development generation, and in ways not apparent until you look at them seriously; (b) they constitute a unique class of display device, not comparable to computer screens, and developed along a separate evolutionary path; ( c ) they've garnered a lot of skeptical commentary (including in online reviews) from people who have not actually used them and do not understand them, yet are willing to judge them publicly, at length. (One psychological professional even let fly on this point, as an example of narcissism -- a separate thread topic maybe.) Also outside the scope of this thread is a deeper implicit issue hiding behind many modern cookbook discussions -- Terrasanct will know about this, I'd guess -- summarized once by someone I know who started collecting cookbooks seriously in the 1930s (more than 10,000) and therefore is in the unusual position of fully grasping just how little that gets published today truly is new. (Color photography excepted.) Electronic books might help, by distributing important older titles (i.e., most good cookbooks) more readily than facsimile editions and used copies have been able to. Typefaces, quirks, and all.