FabulousFoodBabe

Recent trip to San Diego. Of course we should find good Mexican food somewhere -- and of course, my wonderful husband, who really is worldly and smart and all that good stuff, insists on asking the concierge at the Del ... and the concierge sends us to some place within walking distance. I felt the hair on my neck prick up as we approached, but I was trying to be a good wife (the man worked through his whole vacation, and I figured he didn't need me whining. It's only one meal, right?) The place was teeming with people -- the abovementioned "party of 16" with strollers. There was a "chips n salsa" stand, and the salsa was more sauce than salsa. And canned; I could taste the tin. But the margaritas were good -- too good. The bartender and our waiter really were terrific. The food stunk. They should be arrested for that fish taco. But -- my kids were happy, which is always a plus, and my husband thought it was fine. I told him gently at the end of the night that in the future, I will pick the restaurants and he picks the golf courses, and that's that. Alternately, on a trip to Paradise Island, we asked our cab driver where he goes to get away from the tourists. After some good-natured protests (tourists were his bread and butter), he directed us to a place he called, "Fish Fry." It was a lineup of shacks and bars. He took us there that night. Where we ate didn't look too appetizing from the outside, but inside was warm and friendly and clean, and the bar area had a little TV with some sporting event, which made the boys happy. The Bartender and waiter acted happy to see us, and took great care of us. We had the best fish, cooked simply in foil and vegetables and served whole in that same bit of foil, plaintains, greens, rice and beans, cheap beers, and some good cake and ice cream for dessert. My sons and their friends (who were on vacation with us) declared it the best meal of the summer. Me too.

Oh, man. That stinks. I'm so sorry this happened to her. Those insulin pumps are amazing; a friend of ours' daughter has had Juvenile Diabetes since she was three (she's in high school now), and once she got her pump, her life changed. Lots of athletes compete with a pump attached -- a woman on the LPGA tour has had one for years. I had gestational diabetes through two pregnancies, was on a strict diet, and tested five times a day, minimum. I had the bonus of this being for the babies so I didn't feel deprived. The habits I learned have stayed with me (and the babies are now teens). I've noticed that most of the newly-touted diet plans advocate five or six smallish meals a day, discuss "glycemic index" and recommend more lean protein than the diets of years past. This is what diabetics do all the time, and it's probably a healthier way for all of us to eat and live. I know, too, that child on the brink of adolescence who needs sustained medical treatment, can be difficult and a little scary. They are changing so fast at this age physically and emotionally, and it's almost a full-time job to keep up with what they are doing, the doctors, and all that. And, of course, trying to be sure the kiddo lives a normal life. My heart goes out to all of you. -Fabs

I nominate those M&M Amazing commercials, where contortionists just kind of ... contort. What the heck does putting your leg behind your head have to do with candy? Don't answer that.

Excuse my ignorance, but what is Page Six? Thanks. ← It's the gossip column in the New York Post. Shame on me. Lookie Here-Fabby, the truly ignorant one.

Went to 'Cesca on Sunday night, before the Meat Loaf show at the Beacon. (If anyone was there, we were in that section up front with the large, drunken women shrieking and jumping on their chairs every time Mr. Loaf came to that side of the stage ... and no I wasn't one of them ) 'Cesca was good, but we were hot and didn't eat as much as we might have otherwise. Mr. FoodBabe had rigatoni with Sunday sauce, a red sauce with meatballs, sausage, and I think the waiter said brains and tripe -- it was wonderful and reminded me of my grandmother's cooking. I had the shrimp raviolini, which were pretty good; it had been recommended to me, but they were kind of big, kind of fishy, and kind of soft. We also had a little salad, some parmesan fritters, and polenta with wild mushrooms. Dessert was a big cheesecake with bitter orange and fennel brittle. I could have eaten that for a week, and maybe one day I will. I wished we had more time, I wished the temperature was about 30 degrees cooler outside. The room was beautiful and the service was really, really good. We dressed nicer than we might have, considering our big evening beyond. Still, there were people in the dining room in blue jeans and t-shirts. Yeah, this is a "back again" place, I think.

Hah! Beautifully said. And now, it seems that Per Se will give the kitchen some of that service charge -- interesting.

I respectfully disagree. CIA has financial aid out the wazoo, and it appears to be 99% need-based. Even scholarships that should be completely based completely on merit, are not. If someone wants to go there, they will.There is a mindset that favors one's alma mater. However, anyone hiring a cook or sous chef without seeing them cook and speaking to their former employer, Extern site, and chefs at their school, is not doing their due diligence. I worked for someone who tried so hard to hire from their alma mater and the people refused to clean at the end of the shift. !! Credentials and education are two completely different things. Lots of that is attitude, of course, and how you intend to learn. The CIA is full of people who've been cooking for years, who are not getting positions of more authority because they have no culinary education -- and I have yet to meet one who doesn't say it's worth it for their own knowledge, as well. You can't just buy a credential. Or a CIA education. Most people reserve that attitude for CIA graduates, which really is saying something for the school's reputation -- some of it is earned (that it is The Best -- heck, Bocus and Vongerichten sent their sons there!). A lot of the CIA's reputation is from graduates from other schools feeling like second-best (and that's not at all true). Sure, lots of cocky-a**ed people graduate from there. And they are that way before they started, all during school, and will be like that until they decide to pull that nonsense on their chef during service. School doesn't do that to them!What is kind of amusing is the many, many cooks who call CIA graduates "arrogant a-holes," and who would give anything to work for the Bennos, Carmellinis, and Ogdens of the world.

I'm a CIA student and looked into ICE, FCI and the Art Institute. I'm not a career changer, but am also not quite the typical student. The best chefs I worked with and for over the years went to CIA. I decided to enroll there to become better at what I was doing, and realized within a week that I knew nothing -- even with 15 years in the industry. I've loved it. I know some really good and really lousy workers and cooks from different programs. It has more to do with the person than the school. But I'm also seeing that some sort of schooling is important. When I started so many years ago, most people either went to college or went to work in a restaurant. There were some exceptions, of course. In the last kitchen I worked in, every cook (with one exception) had an undergraduate, liberal-arts-type degree ... and every cook (with another exception) had culinary school behind them.

A 15% gratuity is a tip for the waitstaff. A 15% service charge can be allocated as the management sees fit (including the owner's pocket). That's the way I understand it, at least in this state (yes, I worked for someone who billed my services, added a 25% service charge, and kept half for herself, half for the catering manager (???))In a place like Per Se, the percentage the waitstaff makes is probably driven by the diner, not the amount of work that is done. And who here doesn't know at least one server who does anything for an extra dollar, even if it means extra work for others?

Okay -- I'm addicted to Page Six. I feel kind of dirty saying it, but there it is. From today's column -- LET'S hope this trend doesn't catch on. Master chef Thomas Keller's extravagantly priced Co lumbus Circle restaurant Per Se is axing the tip. Starting Sept. 1, customers will no longer get to decide how much of a gratuity to give the waitstaff — instead, a flat fee of 20 percent will automatically be added to each and every bill, regardless of the size of the party, with proceeds to be divided equally among all the restaurant's staff. That's sure to be popular with the busboys, but one insider tells us, "Most of the service staff are planning on quitting at the end of this month when the salary changes happen." The restaurant issued a statement saying the changes were designed "to further the establishment of a unified work culture within the restaurant." I personally love the idea, and wonder if his cooks will get a cut of this. Anyone else?

Am I the only person on this board who sees the subject line and starts hearing that bump-and-grind music?

Blows me away that you can get it at the Key Food store in the next town. I'll try it this weekend, I think, against some Bell & Evans and Murray's. And then maybe the organic chickies from the farm down the road. A vertical chicken-tasting. What a wild life I have!

Never fear, Indybear. The guys who have the rights to Columbus and Dayton, also have the rights to Indianapolis. It'll happen -- I honestly thought they were there now. Time to order a few pints of black raspbery chip, I think.

Graeter's, Cincinnati (and now Columbus, Dayton and I think Indianapolis). Worth every dime it takes to fly it to New York for a visit. Lookie Here

Any chance this will still be as wonderful (tomato-wise) in early October?

I nearly set the ansel off in my Asian cuisine class. I learned to never assume that your actions are well coordinated when you are trying to do three things at once, two of them dealing with oil-laden cloths and open flames. I also learned that my eyebrows are made of an asbestos-like material, because they were still intact after that little incident. And no, I still haven't lived that little epsiode down.

Noooooo .... -Fabby (a Yankee married into a whole okra-loving nest of Southerners)

I can remember the old "In-And-Out Burger" bumperstickers being edited to say In-And-Out urge maybe it was a Modesto thing?

Scharffen Berger sauce, refrigerated, and scooped straight out of the jar. Better stock up now before it starts to morph into Syrup in a squeeze bottle, or magic shell.

What did you say when a particularly attractive person walked in? I just remembered something hilarious. A friend of mine worked at a McDonald's and her mom told me that one night, after work, she walked in the front door and instead of yelling, "I'm home!," she yelled, "May I help someone, please?"

They are teaching us that at the CIA.

I was the first of my family to ... NOT work at a McDonald's. My siblings all had the hats and the polyester outfits. I worked at LaRosa's on Boudinot, in Cincinnati, Ohio, and wore jeans to work along with a little Luigi LaRosa polo shirt and a red bandana-scarf on my head. They called us "phone girls," and at the time, "the girls" didn't cook. But a few of us revolted and I used to work the pizza and sandwich line, and then worked in the back making salads for the other two restaurants that shared the kitchen area with the pizzeria. We had a lot of fun and all the girls had a crush on Mike LaRosa. I remember when we had to start paying for our sodas (snif). It was something like five cents. I used to make a shrimp and pickle pizza for one of the policemen who came in (they ate half-price, or the no-shows, and treated all us high-schoolers well). It was really, really good. As a matter of fact, most of my early education came from working there, including going to the Pirates' Den after closing on Saturday nights. First time (and last) that I ever saw a switchblade.

Ack! We had dinner with some business people not too long ago -- at Bouley, no less, in the little red room. The husband gets a call on his cell phone and instead of walking 15 feet to the front door to talk ... he starts yakking on it at the table. He tried to be quiet, but it really was uncomfortable. Then the wife says, "well, get ready for another call, because Junior is on spring break and will call us when he gets to his destination ..." I leaned over to her and said, "put your phone on vibrate and step into the bar when he calls, okay? the Maitre d' here is notorious for humiliating people who violate the cell phone rule." I really think some people were raised by wolves.

Because it's the manager's job to take care of it, when one diner is making another uncomfortable by behavior that can be controlled. Yeah, sure, respect them but recognize that they are not independent adult human beings operating on their own. This is extremely off topic, but I'm guessing that you don't have kids. Criticizing a child in front of his parents completely ignores that they are a family unit. If you are in a closed setting, I agree it's harder to deal with it. But in a closed setting, well, that's why God gave us better tables and seats, comps, and managers to hand 'em over. You bet I've invoked this before! It's not the kids' fault they are poorly behaved. It's the parents'. If no one makes the parents change their behavior, well, the kids won't either.

Just curious -- do you have children? I really don't understand why someone would think it's okay to criticize or correct someone else's child when the parents were right there. If the parents won't deal with it, call for the manager. As I've learned to do in movie theaters with chatters, I ask nicely, "is your little one going to shriek/throw food/cry through dinner? I'd like to change tables now if you plan to allow that to continue." I'm one of those weirdo parents who refused to budge on a few issues, and table manners is one of them. At any age, at any table. We spent quite a a few dinner hours with one of us outside with the misbehaving kid. Yeah, we'd taken a 6-month old to a restaurant when he appeared to be sleeping well at a certain time, and when he didn't cooperate, well, we got takeout. When they were older, I'd call ahead to a restaurant and see about bringing them in at a rather earlier time -- most places were thrilled to be "training grounds" treated my sons like royalty.