Suzanne F

Not to get too far off-topic, but you asked: Critical Path Method (CPM) is a slightly simpler version of Program Evaluation and Review Technique (PERT), and Gantt charts are simpler still. Basically, you break down the project (whatever it is you need to accomplish -- building a rocket, renovating Yankee Stadium, cooking a multi-course meal) into discrete tasks, and the tasks into steps. You determine how long it should take for each step of each task. You also determine which tasks must be completed before you can go on to others, and which can be worked on simultaneously. When you plot the whole thing out (on paper or in a computer program), you get a clear picture of the order and interrelationships of all the pieces of a complicated job, and how long the project should take. So you can work backwards and say, If I want to serve dinner at 8pm, and I need 1 hour to prep and 3 hours to cook the main course, but I can make the dessert and salad while the main course is in the oven, then I have to do all my marketing before 3pm in order to get home in time to ... You get the idea? PERT uses three time estimates for each part; CPM and Gannt charts only require one. The way I apply it is to break down every part of the dish into the smallest possible step, and then list the steps in the most efficient order. For example, if the mashed potato rosettes have to be frozen solid before they can be placed on top of the cooled stew, the FIRST things you have to do are wash, peel, and weigh out the peeled potatoes, then get them cooking. You can then start of prepping for the stew while the potatoes cook. A lot of people wouldn't think that, unless they realize how long it takes to make, form, and freeze the rosettes -- you start first on the overall task that takes the longest. Does that make sense to you?

Last night, 5 intrepid eGulleteers (Jason and Rachel Perlow, SobaAddict70, 201, and Suzanne F) plus the also-intrepid He Who Only Eats set out on a mission: to determine once and for all, The Truth about Pasta – whether in fact it IS the most overrated food. Well, to be honest, we didn’t set out on that mission initially; at first it was just to have dinner at Babbo, where only Soba had eaten before (the rest of us were very willing initiates). But given certain recent threads here, and the fact that Jason refuses to eat any organ meats, we ended up getting the Pasta Tasting Menu. Jason, HWOE, and I also got the accompanying wines (Rachel tasted, but didn’t inhale.) On a personal note: my deepest thanks to whomever it was whose place HWOE and I took. I hope your cancellation was for a non-problem reason. Let’s get this out of the way: yes, there was butter in way too many dishes. However, that did not seem to stop anyone from wiping every plate clean with the excellent bread with which we were well-supplied (a good, crusty country white, a little singed on the crust as from an artisanal oven). The amuse was a chick-pea bruschetta, an unexpected surprise instead of the more common white bean version (although is anything common at Babbo?). Soba told us that the recipe is in one of Mario’s books. Gotta get me that one! The chick-peas (surely freshly cooked dried ones, not possibly canned, we agreed ) were in a somewhat sweet-sour sauce that reminded a few people of barbecue sauce. But in a good way. First course of the tasting, the Black Tagliatelle with Parsnips and Pancetta, with shavings of ricotta salata on top, drew immediate gasps of pleasure. The taste of the pasta itself was subtle, and between the sweetness of the parsnip and the meatiness of the pancetta (to me it looked as though there were tiny cubes of prosciutto as well) was well-contrasted. It gave me an instant crisis: if the first course is this good, how can the later ones get better? I needn’t have worried. The accompanying “Pinot Plus,” Bastianich, 2000 was a great match: very fruity but with strong acid. In truth, all the wines worked splendidly with their dishes. Second: Fennel and Potato Ravioli with Opal Basil and Brown Butter. “Irish ravioli” according to Jason; reminded Rachel of pierogies. Earthy in flavor, but in a good way. This time they came around offering to grate cheese on top, unlike the tagliatelle that came already showered. (What cheese was this, guys?) Supposedly the Toscana Sauvignon “Con Vento,” Castello del Terriccio 2001 had notes of fennel – no one tasted them, though. It had a gewirtztraminer-ish bouquet, and it was yummy. Third: Garganelli with Funghi Trifolati. The funghi were sliced porcini, ahhhh. Cheese grated at table was (I think?) a parmigiano reggiano. This was as close to a “favorite of the table” as any one dish came. Definitely my favorite – the mushroom flavor was so strong in the sauce. Unfortunately the plating was uneven, so some of us got lots of mushrooms and some only a few. We tried to even it out. The wine with this was a piemontese Ghemme Riserva, Dessilana 1996. 75% Nebbiolo. I found the bouquet a little floral, but in a good way. Fourth: Alejandro’s Pyramids with Butter and Thyme, stuffed with shredded braised short ribs; cheese added was an aged goat from Coach Farm – the only non-Italian cheese source used there. Who, we asked Susan our waiter (whom I recognized as having seen before – at Montrachet, as it turned out), is Alejandro? “The guy who makes the pyramids,” she responded. Oh. Well, he does a great job. My second-favorite, because the meat and the thyme were so tasty. “Tastes like pot roast,” Soba said. Yeah, but infinitely better than my mother’s, and hers was pretty damn good. It was at this point that I marveled at how the filled pastas had been perfectly cooked – not undercooked at the points where they joined, nor overcooked on the rest. How do they do it? Art? Craft? Anyway, they do, and kudos to them for it. More butter on these (wipe, wipe). So what? The Montefalco Rosso, Arnaldo Capri 2000 was a blend of Sangiovese, Sagrantino, and Merlot. I thought it was fabulous with the goat cheese; not bad at all with the pasta, but I just loved how it held a conversation with the cheese. Final pasta course: Pappardelle Bolognese (plus pecorino?). Very straightforward. Quite delicious. At this point, Rachel said something about the noodles seeming not to be noodles, but something more otherworldly. They just tasted better than one could ever imagine flour and eggs together could taste. Yes: with all due respect, Steve P and others, the truth about these pastas was that they were consistently interesting and exciting. And not only because of their saucing; these guys each had CHARACTER. So we all disagree with you. What else is new? As for the mostly-Sangiovese Rosso di Toscana “I Pampini,” Fubbiano 1998 – this was my least favorite, only because it was still quite tannic and didn’t open up until after my last bite. (Rachel made quite an interesting face upon tasting it; I think she agrees.) At this point, while we weren’t looking, they cleared the table and removed our bread. Maybe we were focusing too hard on the sparkling Moscato d’Asti “Clarté,” Elio Perrone 2001 – I even made the never-drinking 201 take a sniff. Very sweet but very clean and not at all syrupy. We missed our bread, though, because we all agreed that the “pre-dessert” of Apricot and Carrot “Marmellata” with Goat Milk Curd would make THE best breakfast, spread on bread. Or on a bagel (Jason) or brioche (HWOE). The tiny slick of XVOO on the plate almost went unnoticed, but definitely added something. Finally: the tasting menu offers Saffron Panna Cotta with Kumquats and Blood Orange Sorbetto. Yes, we got that. But they also served us: apple-walnut torta with maple cream (garnished with a paper-thin slice of dried apple), AND cranberry tart with vanilla ice cream and some sort of intensely fruity, gooey sauce. Two of each, so we didn’t have to fling the plates too far across the table. Good idea, considering all the wine some of us had consumed. Personally, I was glad, because saffron and kumquats are not high on my list of favorite flavors. A good rendition of panna cotta, but VERY saffron-flavored. The blood orange sorbetto, on the other hand, was great. The cranberry tart was great – bitter/tart/sweet fruit in a cookie crust – and whatever that sauce was, it was terrific. The apple-walnut torta had the advantage of a strong walnut flavor without having yucky bits of soggy nuts, and was well-spiced. Reminded me of my grandmother’s honey cake, but in a good way. The wine was from Friuli, a Picolit, Giovanni Dri 1999. It was described as off-dry, and honeyed. All I can say was, by then, it too was yummy. Petits fours were miniature fig-and-something (Rachel? Help!) biscotti, teeny tiny nut macarons, and itty bitty oblongs of some very moist cake topped with a thick layer of chocolate ganache. Excellent espresso, and the mint tea smelled lovely. So: as far as we were concerned, The Truth about Pasta is that in the hands of a master, it is food fit for gods, goddesses, and other assorted eGulleteers and hangers-on. PS: as HWOE and I were walking home, I noticed the Master himself, St. Mario, standing on a corner across from Washington Square Park, talking on his cell phone. I kept hoping he would hang up soon so I could genuflect to him and babble in adulation. Alas, no such luck. Other participants, I turn it over to you for additions, corrections, etc. And Tommy, you may delete your post now.

One year we made the mistake of thinking that by going to an ethnic restaurant we would miss the hoopla and be able to have a nice dinner. WRONG! We went to one of the Portuguese places in the Ironbound section of Newark, NJ -- and everyone there, apparently including the kitchen staff -- were far more engrossed in the game than anything else.

Hey, sound great to me! I'm a big fan of Critical Path Method in the kitchen -- that's the basis of how I've written my recipes for work.

IMHO, it's not the gelatine -- if anything, that might act as a binder. I don't see any mention of having removed the excess fat from the braising liquid. Did you forget to mention doing it, or did you not skim? That's the first thing that comes to mind: too much fat, which separates out. Then when you add the cream, you just exacerbate the problem. And any fat that leaches out of the chicken when it's heated in the sauce will just float on top. Also, when you add the reduced braising liquid to the roux "all at once" do you just pour it all in and then stir, or do you whisk it as you're pouring? Your final proportions of flour and butter to liquid should yield a somewhat thick velouté -- medium weight would be 2 T each flour and fat to 1 cup liquid; you've got 2 extra T flour for your 4 cups total liquid. I don't see a problem there. Oh, please, PLEASE don't switch to milk. Yuck. Goodbye, flavor. Finally: did you try burr-mixing the sauce with a stick blender after adding the cream? If so, did it stay together, or break later?

I have very fond memories of Montreal bagels and of smoked meat, neither of which I've had in many, many years. I would definitely try a place here in NYC that carried one or both (hope that's not a sacrilegious suggestion ). Whether or not such as place would succeed depends on many factors. The quality and taste matter most (to me, if not to everyone), but the "exotic" nature might help. (Montreal is much more exotic than, say, Boston: Bildner's was a bust.)

You might have to import Greek animals and feed. Isn't Total just THE BEST???

Great question. I can only think about it from a USA perspective. I think that it was more SEEING Julia have such a good time that first opened our minds to foods and by extension their cultures, than reading the cookbooks, great as their influence was. It was so much fun to watch her make and sample such exotic dishes as garlic mashed potatoes (!). People were intrigued; that curiosity opened minds to reading about and then experiencing other cultures. As much as I may dislike food shows on TV, I now think they have a much stronger positive influence than I used to. Seeing people enjoy experimentation -- especially people to whom the viewers can "relate" -- is such a strong impetus to try something new. Reading alone cannot START that process, but only continue it. An aside re: Julia's kitchen: how many of us who see it look to see what items we have in common with her?

Well, obviously. But are they more often good or bad? Or should we just look elsewhere for our deli fix? (We generally prefer Carnegie Deli for pastrami, anyway.)

May we also discuss steaming of meats? Or rather, may I ask about this, too? It seems much less commonly done than steaming fish, but aren't there meatballs that are steamed? Anything else? BTW: thanks, Ed, for starting this thread. It's opened up a whole new world to me.

Jaybee, your experience is 180º from ours on New Year's Day. The pastrami was very lean (without our asking), tender, moist, and mildly flavored. In fact, the only problem was that it was a little TOO mildly flavored -- could have used more spice etc. We were quite surprised that it was both lean and moist (probably from the steam, but that was ok). None of that answers your question about which has changed, though. And we can't go back for another 6 months to check. So maybe a different eGulleteer will have to go each week and report on the state of the pastrami.

A couple of online resources for glossaries of Indian food term are: Cuisinecuisine.com and Bawarchi.com. Is there any one language that most of your customers speak?

Funny you should mention it. On another site, someone recently posted this link for info about it: click here, Schielke-san.

The simplest thing I make in my ice cream machine is Iced Almond Milk: 1 liter of Italian almond milk, 250 grams of sugar. Mix until the sugar is dissolved. Freeze. I've gotten fancy with it, adding a splash of orange flower water, a few drops each of vanilla and almond extracts, a pinch of cinnamon, and a bit of grated lemon zest -- turns out really fantastic. But you know, just the almond milk + sugar version is quite nice, and everybody who tastes it goes nuts for it ( sorry).

When I make it, I use half semolina flour and half AP (plain) flour. I find this gives a good consistency to work with, not too dry, not too flabby. And I use the European version of the recipe in the KA booklet -- slightly different proportions than the American version. I make it in the mixer bowl, and use the dough hook for the early kneading (finish by hand). To me, it tastes so good I can eat it with just a little butter.

What Jason said. As long as you don't burn it or reduce the lemon juice too much , you can't go wrong. It's one of those crowd-pleaser dishes that almost makes skinless boneless chicken breasts into something edible. Listen, fella, you know darn well what you're doing; don't try to fool us with that "help me, help me" stuff.

Oh, Nick, the rich are different from you and me.

Mark -- have some popcorn!

I'm curious -- is there a general rule for how long to steam a whole fish? I'd love to do it, and have a big enough steamer tray for my wok, but have no idea. So long per pound, or some such? Is it different for whole, fillets, and steaks? And what happens to the fish if you overcook it? Does the flesh dry out as it would with other cooking methods?

What, YOU need a recipe?!?!? Awright: Take some skinless, boneless chicken breast halves Lay them flat between sheets of plastic wrap (or better yet, in the largest possible ziploc freezer bags) Whack them with something heavy and flat -- the bottom of a sauté pan or pot -- until they are of even thickness In a sauté pan, heat some decent oil and/or clarified butter until it's hot -- how hot depends on the next step If you want to, dip the chicken pieces in seasoned flour, shake/pat off the excess, and lay gently in the hot pan -- the pan shouldn't be so hot that the flour burns; OR Lay the pieces into the pan au naturel (or with a little salt/pepper first); in this case your pan can be almost smoking After a VERY short time, look at the bottom of a piece of chicken; when it's nicely golden, turn it over When the chicken is all cooked, remove it to a platter and keep it warm If there are any burnt bits in the sauté pan, dump them. Wipe out the pan and return to the heat Add some fresh butter to the pan -- this time you can use whole butter; let it melt and get bubbly Add a healthy slug white wine; let it reduce until almost dry Add a healthy slug of lemon juice, and some chicken stock; let it reduce, but not as much When the sauce is almost done, add some drained, rinsed capers and chopped parsley; you can also swirl in a little more whole butter if you like Pour sauce over chicken and serve Anyway, that's how I would do it. (I hate eggy versions, but that's my taste.)

Bozhye moi!! Kak krassniye slovah! Poxhalustah, moi droog.

Hey, does that mean I win?

Absolutely! The only problem I have is that I so love the ones I've tried, I have trouble getting around to trying others. A particular favorite is the seaweed noodle soup, which in addition to a fairly subtle stock, some seaweed, and a huge amount of noodles, also includes several wonton (with WHOLE shrimp), a boiled fish ball, another kind of fish ball that seems to have been fried first, and some sort of very peppery meat(?) ball. For $3.95, I find it unbeatable. We also often get the roast duck wonton soup, with a variably duck-flavored stock, noodles, the same shrimp wonton, and about a half-dozen pieces of roast duck.

I inherited one of those "muffin top" tins from my mother: about the diameter of monster big muffins, but only about 1/2-inch deep. So you get more top than muffin. I'll have to try using it with cupcake batter sometime. Snowangel, if you haven't already, and if you have the time and would not mind, is there any chance you can post the burnt sugar cake recipe? Pretty please?

So, Steve, nu? Which, if any, did you use?