Pontormo

Elie, no offense taken. I am sorry if it sounded I as if I was huffing at your comment instead of the controversy that my word choice--I agree--aroused. I was hoping to encourage discussion and even debate, but in a friendly sort of way.

Jeepers! Thank g-d I don't have to define the word "and"! My usage of the verb (not noun) "ban" is no different from the usage in the Wolfgang Puck thread to which this one bears an intertextual relationship.Chez Panisse Bans Bottled Water from Its Premises Except when one fussy patron visits Better? Nothing in the original post indicated that Chez Panisse, like the Vatican, is an independent state unto itself nor that one restaurant plans to thrust its decision upon others as much as the general manager's interview with NPR suggests that someone might wish to spread the Good Word. Russ, I love your wry sense of humor, but this is not a good analogy:1) Chez Panisse never sold Twinkies in the first place. Besides, aren't they a domestic product? 2) I know everything a pastry chef produces does not involve heat or an oven, but Urban Legend has it that Twinkies aren't baked. Wouldn't Chez Panisse need a chemist, instead?

In light of the first two paragraphs of this excerpt, I come to conclusions of a different nature altogether in regards to the final statement. Given how much we import because of the terroir of the grape and traditions of a particular vineyard, the fundamental difference between spotted piggies near Parma and those that produce Jamon Iberico; the Parmesans of Argentina, Wisconsin and what Italian cows help produce (and not surrounding Parma; Lynne Rossetto Kasper did a piece on Emilia-Romagna where her host asked her if she noticed any mooing in the fields); the cheeses Nikos, Jean-Paul and Laura make from their goats, etc., etc., let's take into account culinary imports from all continents and islands that grace our tables and think about what is and is not so special. To me, water is a luxury easy to forgo. Noting how quickly the plastic coating of my dish drainer erodes and the exposed metal frame rusts, I know damn well that the hard, chemically laced water of Washington, D.C. interacts with the pipes of my pre-war building. My dinky little Brita filter does diddly-squat to gird or flush my innards. Yet, I rarely buy bottled water and will reach for it with less frequency even though I wouldn't stand in anybody's kitchen and pontificate about the cooler in the corner. I think Chez Panisse made a pretty sensible decision. Look, much of what we talk about here is decadent. We talk about pleasure more than sustenance, and we all find ways to rationalize and justify behaviors and practices that may be inconsistent with values and principles we cherish.

Geoff: Thanks for the bibliography. Looks like no one down here stumbled upon the book. Elie: I think I found the source of your soup: Paula Wolfert's book on Mediterranean greens and grains. At least, that's what I intend to use. I also checked out a copy of Jamie Oliver's somewhat new book on Italy. Maddening!!! I know you like his publications and I admire the chef for his social causes. However, I got to say he's the long-lost son of Oprah: page after page of picturesque countryside and crumbling back streets with your requisite accordians, all framed as celebrity shots of our scruffy, charming Puck. The other reasons I have to include an introduction which stresses the importance of regionality, nay, "villagism", when it comes to pride in local dishes, yet neither index nor text bothers to place recipes in such a context. It's frustrating since there are several captions that specify Le Marche as the location of the shot. Mr. Oliver is exuberantly cocky in the introduction to risotto where he lets you know the recipes are his and that he makes glorious, glorious risotto. Photo caption: shepherd's approval of said dish proved a highlight of his life. I would have liked to know what he learned by sampling rice dishes in all the parts of Italy he visited and how they influenced the recipes he offers instead. I was hoping to find something from Le Marche to prepare. Mitch: Gorgeous ingredients! Please tell us more about the cheeses when you report back about your meal.

Let me clarify: I chose the title of this thread for the sake of drama, but also to complement another current topic on Wolfgang Puck and foie gras here in this forum. The word "ban" also has become a part of the culture of eGullet especially since foie gras was subject to legislation in Chicago. Bottled water is simply not purchased or served at Chez Panisse, possibly with one exception. Those who caught the story may have heard the general manager mention one patron who pleaded that a case be purchased and reserved just for his visits. He was assured that someone would run across the street and buy a bottle of water the next time the guy returned for a meal. * * * Years ago before a friend married him and they moved away from Manhattan, a guy I know had seltzer delivered to his apartment in really cool glass bottles. He said it was common practice back in the day of egg creams at the corner drugstore. I assume this kind of fizzy water was locally produced?

Name the film in which mushrooms play a minor, but significant role in forwarding themes. For a fleeting moment, a hunt for trumpet mushrooms unites a disengaged father with his two children. Hidden deep within the woods, chanterelles evoke nostalgia for those resigned to the grimness of their ongoing lives: a time of family connections when traditions were passed down from one generation to the next. The best mushroom one could ever find, they represent promise. As long as they keep it a secret from their mother, the children may be taken high into the mountains to search for them one day when they are older. Black mushrooms mean death: inescapable, horrifying, thrilling.

Those of us who watched the conversation between Michael Pollan and John Mackey at Berkeley know that the CEO of Whole Foods believes that Omnivore's Dilemma cost his business around two billion dollars in sales. Are the heads of Evian and San Pellegrino the next to watch their profits go down the drain-- thanks to the journalist's book? According to a report on NPR tonight, Chez Panisse stopped selling still bottled water to its patrons months ago. As the general manager of the restaurant explained, the environmental impact of bottling and shipping water from Europe was of concern, especially since a perfectly good alternative comes out of the faucet. More recently, the restaurant installed a machine that carbonates the water to the same rather light degree as the effervescent import they no longer carry. I don't remember if the webcast of the Berkeley debate included a glimpse of Alice Waters in the audience, but her friendship with Pollan is common knowledge. Her business's move is very much in the spirit of one of the author's major arguments for eating local as much as one can. Still, it never even occured to me that there might be a locabibe movement. Many restaurants in my city promote their strong ties to local farmers just as Chez Panisse does. While no one would be crazy enough to instruct sommeliers in this area to go local, I have to wonder if the new policy out in Berkeley will have an influence. If you don't live close to a natural spring, will those of you who order bottlled water make do with tap instead? The same stuff the dishwashers use? I decided to post in this forum since it addresses a decision a restaurant made for its diners. However, I also wonder if you might think twice about buying bottled water when you shop for groceries--and thus, compromise John Mackey's prosperity even more. * * * Henry Lo: Please note a new item to add to your list of banned foods.

Franci, yes, in answer to your question, I sent you Trabocchi's recipe. Elie, I met the chef only once and am not a Freudian, so...

Can I play restaurant critic? All these dishes sound lovely and absolutely in keeping with the spring theme. I'm particularly partial to rhubarb, prosciutto is my favorte food and Parmesan up there on the short list, BUT: Prosciutto was proposed before ChefJohnny's question about speck was answered. Rather than seeing the first two dishes as complementary--and in keeping in the "riff" trend that informs dessert, I wonder if there isn't a bit of a redundancy here. I'd go for morels in the risotto though I do like the way the Meyer lemon follows the asparagus... Second point: while it is a practice in North America to eat risotto as a main course--or as lunch in Italian bars--it's really a first course following an appetizer. I would like to suggest that the first menu isn't fully written yet. A simple, light, seasonal main course (secondo) is in order. Protein! Also, with such a lovely meal, I do hope a sommelier arrives with a wine list....

This is how I need to eat these days, Elie. So, by "inspired" I take it that you made up the concept of the dish yourself? Franci: I can't carry a tune for beans (or ceci), but I add my voice to the chorus of praise.

Tracey, thanks for reviving this thread! I've never done the dowel thing, but since I prefer braised meat without the skin, I remove it after the dish is done when it's nice and pliant. Then I fasten the skin onto small frames of various sizes that I pick up at yard sales or TJ Maxx thusly. When dried, chicken skin isn't nearly as durable as the skins of goats or lambs which are more traditional in making parchment or vellum. However, the size is handy for grocery lists or menu-planning, and when bound as a codex, with a little applied gold leaf, it makes a most attractive manuscript.

John: This entire report is just wonderful, but what really made me smile was the great fortune you had when getting in that particular taxi driven by that particular cabbie, ending up at La Machitas for one of your favorite meals in Peru. Those unexpected pleasures are what makes travel so much fun and it's nice to be reminded that our own hemisphere deserves exploration. As for the graphic imagery, I must say I've developed quite a strong stomach for still photographs of innards. However, the one where the fresh, red meat remains connected to a jaw and teeth gave me pause--or rather, caused my index finger to hit the scroll button and scurry away. As for the written report, I like your characterization of another favorite restaurant as a display case within a museum. Understated and lovely. * * * I hope someone will pipe up and tell us more about the tiny prickly-pearish fruit. I was astonished after the first image to see the second where its size became apparent. Have we seen potatoes of various colors yet in your reports. The snowmen-like amuses look like a trend waiting to happen up here in the North, including my own kitchen. so I want to know more. I also would appreciate a stronger sense of what would make a woman macho .

Ah Leung: That's okay. As far as I know, I've never seen an arrowroot--only the powder used as a thickening agent. I appreciate everyone's feedback. I find Suzy's post interesting since "chop suey yam" is something Schneider mentions, too. I was just wondering if the Chinese do stir-fry the vegetable or if the recommendations I read were for something about as Chinese as chop suey. Ben, yes, since I know texture is very important in Chinese cuisine, I figured the crisp, starchy quality would be welcome. I understand jicama is also shredded for fillings in wrappers. And yes, XiaoLing, eating jicama freshly sliced, sprinkled and dipped, seems to be an international practice. Cf. Chappie's remarks. Shiewie, I really am grateful for what you share both for the novelty and for the inspiration. I will have to look for more of your posts.

Eli: I love the aesthetics of your tubular dish. Cross between Stonehenge and Eva Hesse, only edible. Kevin: Well, I am going to persevere in doing something brothy with cod anyway, but mussels are a definite favorite and your bowl is very tempting. I should be making spaghettini con i moscioli before the month is over since the idea of polenta with mussels just doesn't do much for me.

Thanks for the inspiration for something to do with a sizeable chunk of cod in the freezer.This is one of the four "basic" "American" cookbooks I own; I include Madison's heftiest vegetarian book, Craig Claiborne and James Beard. I've used it a lot. First edition has a lot of errors that should have been caught by copy editors and big red splotches from a sloppy printing jobs. These have been corrected in more recent printings by Bittman's current publisher. I agree with many of the assessments. It's not meant to wow you, but update the notion of an all-purpose cookbook from the era of Craig Claiborne, especially. The author is uncanny in deciding which ingredients or types of dishes were missing in publications of the 70s & 80s and which had to go. There have been only a few times in which I've turned to the book and not found guidelines for cooking something I brought back from a shopping trip. I'd be interested in knowing if anyone owns and uses the author's own complementary book that nods to multi-culturalism and--I am guessing--streamlines dishes from a wide range of international cuisines. Two recipes that haven't been mentioned that I really like are the stir-fried beef with onions and the fettuccine with spinach. Instructions for making different versions of cornbread are good and recipes for chili and clafouti are easy to adapt to personal tastes or preferred ingredients. Only disaster I've had is the cobbler. Yuck.

I gave in 2-3 weeks ago, long before rhubarb appears in the markets, but straight from California, in a small, slim basket at Whole Foods for around 4 euros for half a kilo. I made a wee bit of compote to swirl into yogurt. I agree, pink bliss !

Eli: I didn't mean to turn you off the absorption pasta completely, though I'm glad comments were helpful. Hmmm. The bread looks really good. I'm regretting the fact that I only had grapefruit and coffee this morning...thus far. However, it sounds as if your first impressions/prejudices about the book are being substantiated. The most interesting dishes, to me, seem to involve seafood. Of these, the ones made restaurant-elegant, seem to be riffs on regional dishes.

No, though crumbing is one thing to do with good fresh bread that you leave out on the counter and discover isn't as fresh as you'd like it to be. I concur with Steve about the pleasures of fresh breadcrumbs and also prefer using torn bits of a good sturdy white bread pulsed in a food processor, though you can also do a small amount just with your hands. Fresh breadcrumbs are what I add to meatballs and meatloaf, for example. The dried, powdery kind can lead to a leaden quality whereas the fresh ones assure a lighter texture, especially if you soak them in a small amount of buttermilk or yogurt. Fresh breadcrumbs are also perfect for topping gratins, whether mixed with finely grated Parmesan and herbs, simply moistened by tossing in a little olive oil or dotted with butter. Sautéd in olive oil, fresh breadcrumbs can be used for topping pasta in lieu of grated cheese. They're more substantial than the grated powdery dried crumbs and as if mini-croutons, provide a contrasting crunch. However, dried pasta is traditionally topped with dried breadcrumbs made from stale bread, or Semolina bread that has been left out for several days. The latter produces fresh breadcrumbs. You just separate out the bigger pieces and let the grated bread dry for a few days or put it on baking sheets in a low oven.

In the interest of getting out of culinary ruts, I have been purposefully purchasing foods I rarely eat or things I simpy never have taken to the check-out aisle before. This past week I decided to make a pretty straight-forward salad with jicama (the oddity on my receipt), avocado, red onion and golden beets with a lime-cilantro vinaigrette and it was good. Since the tuber spoils quickly, I looked for something new to do with the remaining half by consulting my favorite culinary reference book, Vegetables from Amaranth to Zucchini where Elizabeth Schneider endorses stir-frying it. While jicama's roots ( ) are Mexican, it was introduced to the Philippines by the Spanish and gradually adapted throughout Southeast Asia and beyond. I understand it is now grown in parts of China. I just made a quick stir-fry by velveting matchsticks of marinated beef, removing them, throwing in minced Jalapenos with my aromatics, then onion, red bell pepper and then finally lots of slender sticks of Jicama. After returning the beef to the wok, I finished the dish with a light sauce of stock, chili paste with garlic, cornstarch and a little mushroom soy sauce. It was great. One of the things I liked best about it is that I am trying to eat rice and bread sparingly. The jicama remains crisp, doesn't shrink and made the dish perfect for lunch on its own. I notice that there are a few references to jicama in this forum, but no dedicated discussions. I wonder what dishes are prepared in Chinese kitchens--or in other Asian households.

Ironic isn't it that when TV is accused of eroding the tradition of the family meal, you manage to use the medium for good. (And I do think Vace's is better than Swanson's. Next time, order half a pound of Prosciutto di Parma on the side and drape it, uncooked, on top of your reheated pie with a thin salad of arugula, Parmesan curls and olive oil in between where the leaves wilt.) * * * Footnote: Has anyone else observed the necklace that our Betty has wearing lately? She's Henry's, for sure.

First, I do hope you're well.Second, that looks really good and since this shiksa has both matzo and chicken stock in the house, would you mind sharing your recipe?

Well, Judith, all I can say is that it is not our place to judge...

I took one for the Gipper for part of last night's meal, trying what Trabocchi calls "braised" pasta, or others, "absorption pasta" in which small dried shapes are cooked like risotto, beginning with sautéing shallots and then penne, for example, in olive oil before the gradual addition of stock. I did not follow his suggestions for saucing since ramps will not be in season for some time. I imagine the finished dish would have been much different were my supply of white wine not completely diminished, though stealing oven-braised mushrooms and vegetables to finish the pasta worked out well. The results were fine, complementing the main course which I went North, over the alps, to prepare. It tasted basically as one might expect rather than novel or revelatory as some would hav it. I'm glad to have done it once, and the principle's a bit like that of finishing off the cooking in a large pan of the saucing contents with a little of the starchy cooking water added. However, it seemed a bit of a waste of precious stock given how good dried pasta is cooked in higly salted water. I certainly don't think that way about risotto, and trust I'm not just being a reactionary traditionalist. * * * Franci, only two more weeks till Easter! It looks like you managed to find the pan or paper form that proved elusive before. Just how much stamina and appetite do you think you have for more beautifully swollen holiday breads?

Back in the day, aspiring artists submitted visual proof of their gifts to an august institutional body of judges who decided whether or not the candidate was worthy of joining their ranks. For example, the teen-aged Parmigianino painted this self-portrait while looking in a convex mirror to launch his career while Watteau made a splash with a work we know now as Departure from Cythera. Now, here's your chance to make it big! The Washington Post wants to know what you can do with Peeps! You've got only a few more days, so while you're picking up the family pizza, drop by the drugstore a few doors down and fetch yourself some art supplies.

Sigh, how luxurious! For quite some time I thought the only cream you could get was UHT panna (lunga conservazione) that you have to squeeze out of the little boxes. Then I discovered the refrigerated cases with fresh heavy cream.Isn't the UHT process rather benign? Heat vs. additives? I confess ignorance. * * * Separate note: Kevin & wife: sforza! Pretend it's a Lent thing, only extended, and you'll feel somewhat more Italian.