Michael Laiskonis

Thanks for the kind words, Patrice. The trout roe was a sure thing from the beginning; it was the first dish to fully come to me, and it did in a flash. You might remember tasting my 'signature egg' at the NY Chocolate Show last year. My immediate thought was to twist that into a savory mode. The funny thing is, I wasn't thinking at the time that the 'dessert egg' was first inspired as a direct reponse to Alain Passard's 'savory egg,' the now standard amuse at Arpege! I had confessed my feelings that I had played it rather conservatively on a technical level, but only due to the fact that this dinner would be an 'away game.' In my own environment, I'm confident I could spend the time to explore more interesting techniques. The crab idea was not overtly dessert-like, though I see the mechanics of the dish working with, say, liquid chocolate beignets, with both salty and sweet elements, and a contrasting/complimentary 'shot' to match. The coconut/'Twinkie' idea will likely appear in some form, though I was looking to incorporate my sweet potato sorbet elsewhere in the menu. The beer/malt flavors will also emerge with some of the autumn flavors coming our way. I had first started to think about celery root and chestnut after seeing the combo in a Japanese pastry magazine last winter, and if we do a 'truffle menu' at the restaurant, I can see myself working this idea into shape also. For the most part, we have to consider not only our style of food as a whole, but also our audience. What I might have served in the context of Trio and G's style, would not necessarily be welcome back home in Detroit. On the other hand, one of the projects I'm working on currently is to expand on the idea of a spontaneous 'dessert degustation,' which I already offer in an informal way, to that of a more progressive, experimental option, thus perhaps utilizing combinations and techniques that might prove too daunting to those looking to order a more conventional plated dessert. This tasting would be tailored to that 20-30% of our guests that want fun and excitement, that want to be surprised and challenged, that might see dessert not as the 'end' of the meal, but perhaps just the beginning of the 'second half' of the meal. This would also serve to push myself in more creative ways. We'll see how that develops...

I concur with chefette on two points: cold infusion and syrup infusion. Cold infusion of herbs and teas gives you ultimate control and preserves the integrity of that flavoring, though at the expense of time. And fat (in cream) will actually often inhibit the infusion of flavor. Infusing your flavoring into a light syrup first is a good plan. All things considered, I prefer a certain subtlety, a layering of flavors within a ganache, rather than something too forceful. Ideally the first and second sensations are merely textural- the firm coating followed by the smooth center. As the pure flavor of the coating subsides, that of the ganache comes to the fore- first the chocolate and cream itself, and only then the 'flavoring'. I usually want that flavor to slowly unfold and creep up on you, rather than knock you over the head. It always about balance... And you might want to try a mint/basil combo for your white ganache. I find basil a bit more aromatic, with less potential for grassy-ness, and able to withstand more 'abuse' (heat and time). Another nice combo, along the lines of chefette's caramel-white-thyme, is a banana-white-thyme.

With sadness, I have to break the news that a few of the special events at Trio, celebrating that restaurant's tenth anniversary, had to be cancelled. However, I look forward to continuing the dialogue and eventually revisiting the collaboration sometime in the future. Though cut short, the project raised a great number of questions, and I found many of the contributions here inspiring and even entertaining. I certainly made some discoveries throughout this process, and I'd like to share some of my initial ideas. For a peek behind the scenes, this is an edited excerpt of an earlier email to G, laying out my "first draft" of dishes... So, considering the fact that these ideas remain in their infancy, how did I do? Did I remain true to the original concept of blurring savory and sweet? As you "taste" these combinations in your mind, do they work? Did I not go far enough?

As with most of life's little pleasures, one KK isn't enough, and two is way too many.

Way too easy. I scored 18/20, cold, guessing on only three of the questions ("edelzwicker," the Bordeaux classification exception, and the region that is double the size of California's wine growing area). You can bet that, come mid November, I'll be camping out by the mailbox for that diploma, "suitable for framing," of course.

Going back a bit, twodogs asked for some info on powders. Here is a general discussion with a link to a source. We then spoke specifically about a sweetcorn powder Heston Blumenthal has used. With regard to the yolk-less mayo issue, I dug up an Hervé This demo. It's in French, but I think I get the general thrust of the concept at work- the unrolling strands of the protein molecules in the whites are what makes it work. Not too far removed from This' 'chocolate chantilly' or a whipped gelatin base. In this case though, I can't quite discern whether trace amounts of lecithin are involved at all... Perhaps someone with a few moments to spare could run the page through a translation engine, and share the results with the rest of us. La mayonaisse subversive montée aux blancs d'oeuf. By the way, Bertrand Simon is an associate of This, and has documented many of his projects. There is a lot to look at on the rest of his site. Click on anything having to do with MG or This.

The first thing that came to my mind, when stumbling onto this thread, was kalamansi- a variety of citrus originating from the Phillipines. The best summation I could quickly find is here. I've yet to find and use it fresh. I source a flash-frozen product from the French company Boiron. The flavor and aroma is indeed lime-y, but way more complex than a simple 'western' lime. alana- 'citron' usually refers to those species of fruit with thick rinds and little to no 'pulp' or juice, of which Buddha's Hand is a good example (can't wait for those to appear in the next couple of months!). Although citron and citron vert, in French, translate to lemon and lime, which can admittedly confuse things a bit.

Perhaps less a preface to my question and more a testimonial... I entered my first restaurant kitchen in 1995, not long before Becoming a Chef appeared. It was an amazing ally at the time, and it helped solidify my passions and my goals. Just as I had acquired the basic skills and then having gained the confidence to think on my own, I found Culinary Artistry (and just as it has been a reference of mine all these years, I've seen more than a few tattered copies in kitchens all over the country!). It seems as if the progress and evolution of your writing has eerily mirrored my own development as a chef. And from what I've seen of your new book, the issues you are discussing now also echo the thoughts and questions I have as I look toward my future as a cook/chef/pastry chef. Switching gears, a topic recently discussed here revolved around the recognition, or lack of, given to pastry chefs, both from within the chef community, and from the media/public at large. Realizing your books have dealt with the industry as a whole, what has been your approach with regard to how much you've covered pastry chefs? Any comments in general as to whether we're gaining recognition and appreciation at an acceptable rate? From the large group of chefs and pastry chefs that you've come to know and work with, can you make any generalizations with regard to personality, temperament, drive, inventiveness, or passion? Are you noticing a growing number of pastry chefs that indeed are thinking like 'savory' chefs, not just in terms of style or execution, but also toward marketing and business-related goals? When Andrew MacLauchlan's Becoming a Pastry Chef appeared, one couldn't help but notice the similarities to your first two books. What did you think of his book, and did he consult you at all in his research? Do you feel there may be potential for pastry-specific books, written from the same perspective as your work?

Hey guys, Thanks for the great responses to these great questions, some of which I wish I had asked! As each of your successive books have appeared, you've seemed to broaden the pool of "star" and "rising star" chefs from which you consult, introducing many of them to your readers for the first time. You've also made mention elsewhere of including some in the revised edition of your first book- Mario Batali, for instance, who you confessed was not on your radar initially. Perhaps providing us a bit of a sneak preview, what new faces have emerged in your latest book? And who has caught your attention most recently? Apart from the major food media, from where to you find the most reliable tips for up and coming chefs? And a related question/comment... I believe, either in Becoming a Chef or Culinary Artistry, you had provided a brief geneology of sorts, tracking the influence of chefs by way of the cooks who worked under them. As the chef community continues to branch out, I find these influences and patterns fascinating! I would love to see a detailed 'family tree' charting such influences, say over the past twenty years. Any interest in taking on such a project?! I hope you find your way back to Michigan one these days! Takashi and I would love to hang out and cook for you again!

It is my guess that all the lecithin in an egg is found in the yolk. However, I recall Hervé This, or Blumenthal, or some other principal of the Molecular Gastronomy 'group' was able to acheive an egg white-based mayonaisse (thus without the lecithin- though I encourage someone to prove me wrong!) The result was 'clean' in flavor, yet not necessarily 'delicious'. I'll look around to see what I can dig up from my MG files, at least to answer this particular question. Meanwhile there is a ton of interesting information here. Might I quickly add (also with the help of Harold McGee) that lecithin is a phospholipid, which "resembles a fatty acid in that it is water soluble at the head and fat soluble at the tail..." Lecithin is the emulsifying powerhouse of an egg yolk, of which it makes up about 30%. It acts like a 'soap', preventing oil droplets from coalescing in water. Given that an egg yolk will emulsify both hot and cold preparations, and with the results of twodogs' initial experiment, I think we could also say the same of soy-derived lecithin- works hot or cold. Also in On Food and Cooking, McGee simply offers that "such 'surface-acting' molecules have many other applications as well" but only mentions its use in the baking industry as an anti-staling agent. In other chapters, he refers to both its role in chocolate, as already discussed, but also of the trace amounts found in cream, and thus its role in butter. So, aside from its straightforward emulsifying properties, how exactly does it produce a stable foam with a simple fruit juice, without added fats? Is it this 'soapy' quality in the lecithin itself that is responsible? Sure, more questions, but perhaps more answers will result... I'll look around to see what I can dig up from my MG files, at least to answer these particular questions. Meanwhile there is a ton of interesting information here.

I appreciate that some of you, like Ted and Debra, might have had initial reservations or skepticism in wrapping their heads around this idea. And I'm glad that we may be encouraging others to think about things in new ways, where they might not have before. I have countless thoughts and ideas, in my head and on paper, that may never be put to practical use, and I find myself thinking more about how to express 'concepts' through food. This event/exercise is the realization of some of those ideas, those that may not always find a place on our day to day menus. There are surely risks involved, but that makes it all the more exciting. To recap how this menu began... G suggested a menu whereby we select five ingredients, and with that ingredient, we each prepare one course. So, the menu will consist of ten courses altogether. We are each generally approaching each ingredient, each dish, from the perspective of our individual area of 'expertise', mine from 'sweet', and G's from 'savory'. But that does not necessarily mean that there will be five savory courses followed by five desserts, in the traditional sense. We're lifting the restrictions of what sweet and savory might typically imply, not only in the execution of each dish, but also in the placement of each dish in the context of an entire menu. Remember the idea of 'rolling hills'- the general idea that an extended menu need not necessarily conform to a gradual progression of savory to sweet, with the peak, as it were, being the entree, or 'main dish'. G began working on this idea months ago, of punctuating every few courses of his 'tour de force' with a dose of 'sweet'. This is an extension of that initial discussion and experimentation. How the menu will be presented, not only with regard to the actual flow of courses, but also, the menu descriptions, whether a dish will be initially fully described or credited to either chef (perhaps adding an element of surprise and suspense)- these are all issues still open for discussion. Right now, we're both coming up with our first drafts. The next step will be how to integrate them into a whole, likely followed by the logistical challenges... So you see, we are playing out a few different ideas simultaneously. The coolest part for me is simply the fact that I'll be spending a day with a bunch of awesome, like-minded cooks... Clay, interesting to read your report on the Vosges opening. I can actually taste a lot of that stuff in my head. And I haven't as yet heard any other first hand reports from Albert's class this last time around. I've been thinking not only of Albert and Ferran Adria throughout this process, but I've also looked at the work of several others, to see what might inspire my own impulses. As I've mentioned before, with all the possibilities, my five courses suddenly seems so limiting!

twodogs, can you elaborate on the process you used to create that watermelon froth? Did you heat the watermelon juice, or did the lecithin readily dissolve? What proportion of lecithin to juice did you use? And was there a perceptible taste? Was this for a 'sweet' or 'savory' application? A few of us briefly discussed the role of lecithin in chocolate couverture here, and its use as an emulsifier, its properties of repelling moisture, and its ability to increase fluidity. I, too, am quite intrigued by the sodium alginate/calcium chloride technique, though I have so much on my plate right now, I don't see myself playing around with it too soon. Isn't it ironic, that as so many chefs continue to distance themselves from industrial/mass market food production, a few of us twisted souls are looking to exploit their tools of the trade for the good of haute cuisine? Lecithin, pectins, ascorbic and citric acids, all manner of gums... Not to mention the role of dehydrated products, from milk/yogurt powder to powdered glucose, powdered honey and beyond. I think we should be looking closer at all of these. What about carrageenan/irish moss? Back in my homebrew experiments years ago, I remember using this stuff to clarify my beer. What other low temperature clarifying possibilities exist in our kitchens? Anyone mess around with this?

The thought that has been running through my mind reading all of this, is that it's Gagnaire who has stepped up to respond to all of this. Surely not Bocuse. Not Alain Ducasse, or even Passard, let alone the heirs of Troisgros and Haeberlin. Not Michel Bras or Marc Veyrat, two chefs whose sense of place define their cuisine to a certain extent. But Gagnaire, the one high profile chef who practices, in spirit, that which comes closest to the nueva, the vanguard of Spanish cooking. If I were into conspiracy theories, I'd guess that he was shoved into the position to 'defend' French cuisine. I don't necessarily believe that, but I think that this aspect alone is very interesting...

I always have trouble deciding my favorite between Radius and Clio. Perhaps for a tasting menu, Clio would win out. Usually improvisational and 'in the moment', the extended tasting menus Ken Oringer has cooked for me have been among my most memorable. But I really like the space at Radius and Michael Schlow's food, too. I like Barbara Lynch, and her style, at No. 9, but I'm not sure I would put her in the same league as Ken and Michael. Schneier, your desserts at Radius sound similar to those of the long-departed pastry chef, Paul Connors. From Boston locals, I'd be interested in hearing if desserts at Radius have shifted in the last year and a half. Also, what is currently happening on the sweet side at Clio? My last visit to No. 9 saw desserts that were a little too Claudia Fleming-esque; any changes there?

Wow, Clay and Steve, good stuff. It makes perfect sense, but I hadn't made the connection between the rise of chocolate and the rise of industrialization. With the exception of the handful of manufacturers who tout their cacao's origin, it seems that haute chocolate is one of the few luxury items that is not often identified with a sense of place (and time). The big problem with raising the awareness and 'taste' of consumers (and as Steve noted, pros as well) is that such a wide range of quality exists, from the Amedei Porcelana Clay mentioned, to the Hershey's and Cadbury dreck. Very few products enjoy such a wide spectrum of quality and accessibility, from the luxury to the pedestrian. I see good signs and bad signs, with regard to consumer awareness. My local market, albeit progressive, displays their Valrhona and Sharfenberger bars in a central aisle display, in a high traffic area of the store. Sure, I wince when I realize I buy it wholesale for easily half the price of their retail bars, but when I notice the Lindt and Ghirardelli and 'organic' stuff hidden in the mass market candy aisle... that's a good sign. Yet a peek at the nearby in-house pastry case reveals what looks to me like a lot of pate a glacer-type, vegetable oil based work. With the recent announcement that the Barry-Callebaut-Carma empire is now swallowing Brach's, I want to think that they will elevate the low end here in the US, but I also worry their high end products will suffer as they continue to grow in size. And will the passing of the recent EU legislation push more consumers toward the artisinal, or will they settle for those brands that look to widen their margin by sneaking in that tiny percentage of vegetable fat. And Steve hit on an important point; assuming pastry chefs and chocolatiers have embraced the concepts of terroir and vintage and politics, how do they reflect that to their consumers? It is common to see the words 'Valrhona' or 'Cluizel' in menu copy, for the prestige they bring (and for the higher price point they might justify), but will we eventually see menu descriptions that refer to 'Maracaibo' or 'Chuao' or even "Criollo and 'Trinitaro', let alone a vintage date? And then, as Steve also noted, will those unique characteristics survive the manipulation, the addition of cream and butter and sugar, to be recognizable in the end product? It is a challenge for us pastry chefs to acheive this, but not impossible. Again, it is the progressive pastry chef that employs methods, like a 'new' pate a bombe with a fraction of the sugar used in the traditional technique, or technologies, like a foam canister, to better express the least adulterated flavor of the chocolate. The politics involved, whether we're talking organic growing practices, fair trade, or even the use of slave labor, it all starts to get really murky at some point, given the lack of information we have ( and the lack of information the manufacturer's have, it seems) when it comes to the sources and distribution networks of cacao. That alone is pushing me toward using the highest end exclusively, and taking the hit in food cost, simply because there is at least the suggestion of control from plantation to processing, and the hint of occasional reinvestment in those local communities. Clay, I too will be presenting a demo at the Chocolate Show, Friday afternoon, though I have no idea what I'll be doing yet! I also hope to hang out 'backstage' for the fashion show to take some notes, as I want to do a dress next year. I look forward to meeting you!

Actually, Ted, I like these thought provoking posts. twodogs is a new pal, and is the real deal, looking for answers to the same questions. His/her questions and thoughts on this thread have been some of the most useful, and are by no means sarcastic. And I value FG's notes as well, and I was a fan of his long before eGullet, back when he was writing about food and restaurants, seemingly just for the fun of it; his interest in food led him into chefs' kitchens, so that he could better understand the philosophy as well as the technique. They've definitely got my back. I'm actually quite surprised to read only positive feedback on this thread; I had expected more of a backlash, more 'controversy' (though inviting controversy was by no means my intent!). I began this thread with one, rather all encompassing question, and I've been pleased with all of the questions that have been raised in return. A question for you, Ted, can you explain what did/didn't gel for you before/after this discussion?

And I would say that is indeed how I'm approaching this. I completely understand where you are coming from FG, I just got hung up on the details of your argument. I actually think we're all on the same page... We can back out of this discussion a bit and address the old argument of whether a chef is a technician or merely a good 'shopper'. Somewhere in another thread, someone recently asked whether seasonality of product, for instance, might lose its importance if Adria style avant garde cooking were to take hold on a wider scale...

Well yes, but then not necessarily. While I agree the challenge and excitement lies in presenting such 'counterintuitive' ingredients in a 'whole' form as much as possible, I think those decisions will have to be made on an ingredient by ingredient basis. For example, the nature of coconut itself almost requires some form of manipulation, whether served in a sweet or savory context. Malt, by definition, is a manipulative process as much it is an 'ingredient'. Ultimately, I'd like to think that the flavor of a product will take priority over the form or method by which it appears. Hypothetically, G might decide to sprout, roast and grind his own version of malted barley, where I might use beer or crushed Whoppers... whose dish is more valid? Who best expressed the theme or spirit of the dinner? While I thought the trout roe was best served in a simple way, by contrast, the use of crab has opened up many possibilities for manipulation. Perhaps, say I haven't conjured up a lot ways to utilize lump crab meat per se (it is difficult to place that texture in the 'sweet' context), so maybe I'd looked toward essences and foams, ice creams and gelées. So manipulation of said ingredient may be the key in my approach. But then G may wish to encapsulate the very essence of crab onto one of his thin sheets of vegetable paper for his course. Who has the more difficult task? Should I have to change gears and deal with it in its physical state more than he did? Truth be told, I'm looking to use not only some 'manipulation' of crab, but I'm also hoping to score those little tiny bite size crabs, sawagani, the quarter-sized babies you might find in an haute Japanese place (I last encountered them at Sugiyama in NY). And of course, I'd use those things whole!

Since you brought it up, FG, you may want to be around for one of the pastry demonstrations at this year's IHMRS in New York this November. Four pastry chefs, two hours, all about cheese.

To my long initial list, G was interested in adding cheese and coconut, among others. The final choice of the five ingredients was left to me, as G has the home field advantage (an assistant and I will be flying into Chicago the morning of the dinner, with a partial amount of product prepped and shipped the day before). I agreed on cheese at first, as there are so many wonderful possibilities, but the menu of ten courses suddenly seemed so limiting, that I suggested replacing cheese with malt, thereby giving G a challenge, and also allowing me to perhaps approach that ingredient in a way I never had. Realize that we tried to engineer that first phase to set up challenges for both of us. The trout roe is 'easy' for him, the malt is 'easy' for me. Although we chose five particular ingredients for their potential sweet/savory roles, there is nothing to prevent either of us from inserting other 'interesting' products as we see fit! To be honest, once we arrived at our list of five, we both remarked that it suddenly seemed so small! Too bad we couldn't do ten ingredients/twenty courses! I've done a ton of these guest chef dinners, both as co-host and as guest. To the typical framework, either a chef chooses a preference for a particular course or protein, or the chef may simply be be assigned one; barring any duplication of ingredients from one course to the next, that chef will usually conceive and execute that dish in isolation from the menu as a whole. While great fun, these events become rather tame, carbon copy rituals. The concept G came up with will require much more interaction, much more discussion as we decide the placement of each course. While we will be featuring one similar ingredient in two dishes on purpose, not repeating their 'supporting' players will be a challenge. And opening up the wide range of methods and techniques available, we may also have to alter and compromise to avoid any repetition on that level, as well. We've thus far taken a few days to think on our own, so the discussion and menu framework has yet to begin in earnest (I initially sat down at the computer just now to write to G, but took the requisite detour here!). MichaelB, your post kind of sets up my current thought process. I'm starting first with supporting ingredients, followed by cooking technique. In some cases, the technique may exclude one ingredient, or give me an idea for another. So, with crab, had I started from your palette of flavors, I might then proceed with what cooking techniques or what concepts I wanted to explore. From there I start free associating... hot, cold, liquid, solid, acid, sweet, fat, salt... By thinking, 'green apple gelée' or 'creme fraiche sorbet' or 'liquid center crabcake'... back and forth it may go until I hit what I think is a good idea. With four of our ingredients I'm at that stage of development. Coconut, for example is somewhere here... coconut-curry-sweet potato-milk chocolate-banana-peanut-cherry-almond-carrot-apple cider-sesame-brown butter-coffee-chili-grains.... 'risotto'-soup-anglaise-sorbet-foam-cake-gelée-liquid-caramel-fried-frozen-sous vide-linear presentation... From there I'm just riffing, running through all the possible compliments and contrasts; obviously, some potential components or techniques will be dropped, just as the process may unveil others not yet on that list. One dish that has arrived at some form of completion is for the trout roe... In an emptied brown eggshell, a soft chawan mushi style custard (barely sweetened and flavored with a hint of bonito/dashi) will be baked in, about 1/3 to 1/2 full. Spooned on top of that, will be a layer of a light, semi-liquid yuzu and ginger gelee, set with pectin. A caramel foam will be dispensed next, finished with the trout roe and a mere drop or two of maple syrup. To start, we will be using the very fresh product of one of G's friends in Midland, Michigan, thus I want to present it simply and relatively un-manipulated. The roe's flavor will be echoed faintly by the sea-flavor of the custard, the acid and pungency of the yuzu-ginger to cut through the custard and foam, the play of the sweet maple and caramel against the briny roe is nice, and texturally, there is some interesting interplay between the rich custard, soft foam, and 'pop' of the roe. Add to that the perhaps cliché egg-in-egg idea, and the fun of receiving explicit instructions for eating it- dipping the demitasse spoon all the way to the bottom, in order to experience all the flavors and textures at once. Based on what G is thinking of doing, or simply, once I try it out, if it doesn't work as well as I had thought, everything is subject to change. There is an almost improvisational feel to the concept, despite the fact that we are both likely pretty anal as chefs. The question is... is this trout roe dish a dessert, or better placed as a second or third course? That is the next phase.

Just this past week, I received the whole line of Kitchenaid's new silicone bakeware to play around with. Unfortunately, I haven't touched them yet, and likely won't get to it all that soon. I don't bake much in the professional grade flexipan-type forms (I use them very little, and when I do, it is primarily to mold and freeze gel, cream, or mousse mixtures), but I have noticed longer baking times and less caramelization than baking in conventional metal forms. While these Kithchenaid products are of sizes and shapes that don't lend themselves to my restaurant work, I'm eager to give them a go. How long have these been on the market? I was under the impression that some us were getting a sneak preview!

Welcome, Michael. When I first heard of your collaboration with savvy pastry chef Jacquy Pfeiffer, I was excited by the prospect, as it opens doors to other possibilities for 'cross-pollination' between pastry and other arts. I look forward to your thoughts and answers to our questions...

Thanks, Clay, for your authoritative input. I, too, wish manufacturers were more generous with regard to this technical information, as it can only improve the relationship between manufacturer and pastry chef. Securing this info through the usual channels (distributor, importer) is time consuming and often futile. Another question... where do you think manufacturers will take the 'vintage' concept? Will it remain a 'boutique' product, or will we begin to see more of them?

The other day, I siezed upon the opportunity to taste a 1997 Pinot Noir from Zind-Humbrecht. I was expecting some degree of austerity, but found it vegetal, somewhat 'cooked', and overall more interesting than delicious. What should I have expected to find in this wine? Was it simply past its prime? Long having been a fan of Zind-Humbrecht's whites, and considering that they are deemed one of the world's finest producers of such, is there a certain approach they take with regard to Pinot Noir? What is the history of its plantings in Alsace? Notorious for being a fickle grape to begin with, are there unique soil/micro-climate considerations that justify its occasional appearance there? On a side note, I was recently gifted a bottle of Inniskillin Pinot Noir (vintage forgotten). While I wouldn't likely seek it out, it was drinkable, though interestingly gamay-like, fruity and very up-front, with no real backbone to speak of. What is the overall track record for Pinot Noir grown in these cooler climates worldwide? Are there any noteworthy examples?

Cyptic as usual, twodogs, but I share the overall sentiment! Ted, I was referring to Regis Marcon, whom Bux mentioned with regard to mushrooms (and hey, in addition to the Thuries issue with Conticini, look for an older issue that features a handful of mushroomy desserts from Marcon). So, chefg and I have arrived at our list of ingredients. We actually picked five, to account for an amuse and a mignardise (oops, there we go adhering to French structure again!). From the following ingredients we will each present a course... Trout Roe Crab Truffles Coconut Malt This is going to cool...