Steve Klc

Four posts, four fans of Chipotle and no sniping. I'll be the fifth to toe the emerging party line--we hit the Rosslyn and Tysons Mall locations when it's convenient. I think that might be because Chipotle does a pretty good job--not a great job--but a good job: have it your way, don't over-promise, fairly-priced, consistent, efficient, sanitary, convenient. Fresh lemons and unsweetened iced tea year-round. It's a terribly well thought out concept and stylishly conceived. We need more efforts like it that at least meet its level of achievement if not surpass it.

Lots of desserts sound good on paper or in a press release, so in one sense I wish it were more clear to me that Andrea tasted all of these and found them not only interesting but good. And for all the praise Andrea deserves first for writing very well--and she does write very well--and second for writing about dessert and pastry chefs, I'm afraid Ted in some ways brief trendy round-up pieces like this can create or contribute to misperceptions of dessert--making it harder, actually, on the public to come to terms with dessert and what it means to be a good pastry chef. What do I mean? Let's break down her comments and I'll try to address some possible implications: "Dessert used to be so simple" Desserts--fantastic desserts--STILL can be "so simple" and often are simple even if they paradoxically contain odd or exotic ingredients--"simple" also has no correlation with a dessert being "good" or successful or appropriate to the meal which preceeded it (just like those precious architectural monstrosities put forth by some a decade ago to get into the pages of Pastry Art & Design were not inherently any better or better tasting because of their form--they either tasted good or they didn't and they either were out of sync with the food or they weren't.) So she loses me right here in the first sentence because of the power and multiple meanings "simple" connotes; "the course that brought comfort in a warm chocolate souffle‚ or an aromatic apple tart" We've had more choices than this for a long time--and her Post readers have certainly had more interesting choices for years. But even these desserts are FAR from being simple to do well (when was the last time you had a drop dead great apple tart somewhere?) not to mention the fact that for some current cuisines and restaurant styles--French-influenced bistro and brasserie among them--these desserts STILL are the most appropriate way to end a meal. For other cuisines they NEVER were the appropriate way to end the meal. (And why throw "comfort" in there? Comfort is relative and reflects an unhelpful bias.) Here's the better concept I'd propose for an article instead: the best desserts are those which, first, taste good, and second which reflect the cuisine by following it cohesively or flowing from it appropriately, and that these two criteria are what is really most important. Not whether a dessert is crazy. Now, this may be true in all of these intriguing examples, but I'm afraid that isn't the message a reader is likely to take away. "But now that cooking has become an extreme sport and chefs are vying for celebrity status, those days are gone" If they are, that's not a good thing and Andrea shouldn't be contributing to this kind of misplaced media attention because she's too good a writer for that and that would make her part of the problem, perpetuating the lack of better awareness on the part of the reader. If she feels that any of these pastry chefs are working with these combinations more out of sport or as a road to celebrity rather than out of some innate personal exploration or poetic expression of palate or harmonious connection to their chef and the restaurant's cuisine--how does mentioning them help? Bigger picture: slants like this--the pursuit of the new for being new, new as a road to celebrity or "new is better"--will actually hinder other equally talented if not more talented chefs and pastry chefs working very personally across many styles--all along the vast continuum from traditional to modern and creative desserts--from being recognized and appreciated for their good work. "Daring desserts" aren't an "either-or" choice nor a seismic shift in our focus. Complex and creative is not inherently better (or worse) than the seemingly simple and traditional--we'd all agree it depends more on the chef and focus of the restaurant, right? S my hope is the "Do something weird--it's better--get media attention"--which appears to be Andrea's schtick here--is not adopted by even more writers: creating an appropriate and delicious followup to a meal AND developing an open enough mind to appreciate it--be it traditional or avant-garde--should be the focus; "Today, it's anything goes in the kitchen. Ingredients like beets, basil, avocado, rosemary and olive oil, previously found only in appetizers and entrees, are making their way into sweet treats." On one hand it is helpful that Andrea breaks this "news" to her Post readers, who may have never heard of Claudia Fleming nor be aware of her key influence on the NYC and national pastry scene or of any other NYC pastry chef doing interesting desserts with exotic ingredients or concepts, that's the trickle down effect of food journalism in that it takes years, a decade sometimes, for information to cycle, re-cycle and spread from one food writer to another to another. But on the other hand Andrea is very late to this party, because we know: 1) previous generations of French, Spanish and American pastry chefs and chefs (and New Yorkers like Claudia and Bill Yosses, who had been blending classical French techniques with odd Asian ingredients and sensibilities for many years) have been doing crazy desserts and blurring these ethnic, ingredient and technique boundaries for some time now--while historically this younger generation of NYC pastry chefs has not been in the forefront of this movement--they've followed rather than led and 2) for most Post readers "dessert" out will still consist of ice cream, brownies, molten chocolate cakes, cheesecake, etc. And they're having a hard enough time finding good examples of those desserts--finding a "better standard or ordinariness" amidst all this pre-prepared frozen wholesale commercial crap--let alone good examples of daring desserts. The last thing we should encourage, even subtly, are more young pastry chefs trying tricked up versions of classics which don't succeed. And that's because anything doesn't really go in the kitchen. Unless it's in the right person's hands.

I know we mentioned this on eG years ago, but here is an article about a few 10 minute dessert concepts created by Ferran Adria--using some fresh fruit, canned fruit, commercial ice cream, yogurt, etc: http://press.elbulli.com/scripts/fitxa.php?id_article=60 It's in Spanish but the concepts translate.

I'll chime in with my impression, Pedro, and I can only contribute an outsider's "sense" after my two too-short visits this past year and my discussions with maybe 20-25 of the best chefs and pastry chefs there: my gut tells me it will be a long time before the very traditional forces firmly entrenched within Portugal allow much movement. Either that, or the few modern-leaning chefs have to keep getting better, keep refining their work, keep fighting the odds to the point that their excellence and brilliance is undeniable within two of these three segments 1) within the professional chef community--which is VERY traditional and against change--2) abroad and 3) reinforced not only by savvy tourists who visit but also by open-minded residents--who see creative capable of exisiting side-by-side traditional (not better or worse just a different excellence.) It wouldn't hurt if they got some city government or tourist board support (if there is such a thing) since talk of modern chefs in addition to strong traditional cooking tends to drive articles in the foreign press and would drive even more visitors to Lisbon--which is an incredibly beguiling and affordable city. But too many forces, with strength in numbers, seem allied against movement. I got the sense Lisbon residents didn't even realize how amazingly fortunate they are to have something so modern and relevant as the Belem Cultural Center and Design Museum there. But driving every day from Belem up and down the river, from bridge to bridge, it is inescapable: this waterfront area is developing, more upscale condos and hotels will be springing up, more upscale restaurants and clubs will spring up to compete and to service that demand, and this is where an increasing number of internationally savvy tourists will frequent--I fully expect more innovative cuisine to rise up to serve this audience. Vitor didn't display any "sophisticated" techniques other than a mental freedom to be more personal and more adventurous--the soy and vanilla with fava and monkfish tartare for instance--he was not any more sophisticated technique-wise than what one might experience at the Pestana Palace or at the hands of any of the other talented French-leaning chefs or pastry chefs in Lisbon, of which there are many more than a few. (We unfortunately didn't get to sample Miguel's number one pastry recommendation, Fabien Nguyen of the Casa de Cha at the Tavares Rico because it closed eariler than we could get there on our one free night. But everyone else should try!) But Vitor's kitchen was, frankly, an under-equipped closet by US home standards and he innately eschews what some casual eGulleteers might call the Adria tricks. What do I mean by that? He doesn't have an ice cream machine let alone a Pacojet, he knows the proper place of espumas--i.e. not to be used indiscriminately--and I don't believe he served us a single foam in the 17 dishes of his which I saw or tasted! What he demonstrated was more of a willingness to look beyond Portuguese tradition and borders, to Spain (he did a stage with Santi Santamaria at El Raco de Can Fabes) and to France, the fact that he was unafraid of salt was a dead giveaway he cooked under Antoine Westermann at the Hotel Fortaleza do Guincho. Any failure of his--like the coconut sweet rice plum thing which was a disaster--was more than balanced by something brilliant--like that roquefort pao de lo, which still resonates weeks later. The demo pastry chefs at HOREXPO were me (doing a modern version of arroz doce which Vitor graciously translated for the audience) and Michel Willaume, now with Sole Graells based in Barcelona (he did his Pastry World Cup winning entremet) and the chefs were Vitor and Fausto Airoldi of Bica do Sapato who were very generous with their time. Whatever forward-thinking we displayed was very well-received by the audience. But I found Vitor, the pupil, to be the more adventurous and rewarding cook of the two who put together the more interesting dishes and meals--but then that comparison isn't fair to the more-experienced Fausto because Fausto, the teacher, didn't cook a tasting menu for us, we ordered only once from the menu. Bica is wonderfully stylish, with a super view of the river and I bet has won all sorts of restaurant design awards and loyalty from the see and be seen crowd--but it is also high volume, succeeding very well for its volume, and Fausto supervises rather than cooks hands-on these days. (Incidentally, my poor education was reinforced in the company of these chefs--both Vitor and Fausto speak perfect English and Michel is fluent in French, Spanish and English.) Vitor has a champion in Portugal in Paulo Amado, the young forward-thinking Director of Inter magazine and head of Edicoes do Gosto Publicoes--and having that "in" always helps younger chefs. But Paulo is also smart enough to know he has to serve all segments of cooking and pastry--he's very active on behalf of all the more traditional regional chef and pastry chef associations and that means he won't slight the French-leaning or the older more traditional cooks from the Algarve or from the North in the process. (I've invited Vitor to come to New York and cook in November at the International Hotel, Motel & Restaurant Show, we'll see if he can get away from his family and restaurant for the trip.)

Thank you JFLinLA for posting this Sherry Yard recipe exactly according to eG's guidelines--you kept the ingredients list intact and condensed the instructions and technique into your own words. If anyone is really piqued they can seek out the book and read the recipe which Martha Rose Shulman presumably tested and signed off on in its entirety. The key here, I think, is that this isn't a shortbread or shortcrust that many of us may be familiar with, it is what my grandmother called a Russian tea cake--I think the nut versions hold their shape better in general--and Sherry takes pains throughout her very in-depth explanation to stress not to overbeat, not to overbake, and even to freeze the dough to hold it. The lack of egg helps these things melt away or disintegrate fairly quickly which Sherry explains nicely. (I think the particular lime proportions are a little off fwiw.) Too bad the author and publisher didn't care enough to also provide specific weights--nothing like the precision and efficiency of measuring out one and a half cups plus two tablespoons sugar! JFLinLA--are you aware convection ovens bake differently than conventional ovens?

I don't think we're disagreeing on too much Lisa--this analogy might be the last sticking point but it can be easily overcome: it's self-evident most of us have to be able to do--to play adequately--before we can improvise, the key for kew here "exploring new frontiers" is speculation, informed or otherwise, doesn't help her at this point as much as developing the skills and awareness to do it exactly the way a vastly more experienced pastry chef says to do it and first understanding what's going on and why, just like informed improvisation of a Mozart theme has to stem first from musicians who have been grounded, learned their craft through some experience and/or training, not only to play chopsticks on the piano but to play the Well Tempered Clavier. My perspective I guess is that musicians, just like pastry chefs and home bakers, should be the faithful mechanic, questioning all along sure, until they've acquired enough of the skills, dexterity and understanding under their belt so that when they think they're ready to take a stab at the poetic, the personal, the outside the pan--they have more of a chance of succeeding. This is the walk before you run--lest you run wild--notion. Of course, I'll be the first to join you in saying the proof is always in the pudding--a musical improvisation like a dessert experiment either works or it doesn't--but for most people reading along like kew, there's a time-tested process to be able to get to that point of departure.

You've asked and answered your own speculations balmagowry, very well. There isn't any reason why you couldn't bake off a successful big messy but dubious version of this individual cake but what will you have gained? It's always better to "do" first--whether you're a pro or a home baker--before thinking outside the pan, before speculating, imagining, changing right off the bat. If you do, it becomes easier to refine, ask questions and easier to understand the whys behind the whats and hows. I also think it's up to each pastry chef to determine what their nature is--and at eG we support many seemingly conflicting natures--some show off, some do architectural things that couldn't be more irrelevent to the food which preceded it--others focus on creating interesting, personal desserts which match the cuisine of their chefs. Still others are trying to find their way. To each his or her own--and hopefully each reaches an audience or connects with an audience--whether that audience is your immediate family or an entire city or country. But, the technique (inserting a ball of ganache into the cake batter of an individual chocolate cake) of this recipe has been around for a long time, it's in the Michel Bras Dessert cookbook and it was featured in that prominent LA Times series with Thomas Keller years ago. I've seen a percentage of rice flour in some recipes instead of almond flour. Do it in a ring (I'm less inclined to a ramekin but that's subjective) and there's no reason why you couldn't bake it ahead, hold it, rewarm it in a microwave, and serve. We've had previous threads about similar cakes which rewarm well a la minute, I recall Patrice talking about how even the Bras coulants can be baked ahead successfully. The one comment I think has to be addressed directly, though, is when someone says "you don't need "x"...that's just some pastry chef showing off" for with that they reveal their own limitations, that they're missing the bigger picture of creativity, taste and expression which is possible in food. It's not about what any of us feels is "needed" to execute a "somewhat vaguely similar cake I may have made before," it is more about opening your mind to creativity, to personal expression, to learning what you can from the way someone else does something first--and then forming your own opinion about it after you do it. (It may not work for you.) But do it first, then judge. Frankly, adding a percentage of almond flour to many cakes can improve those cakes--making them more complex, more rich, more enjoyable, more interesting or more luscious, in certain applications. In one restaurant I do a ravani (semolina) cake which is better though less traditional and authentic because I added 20% almond flour to the batter. Unless you've tasted "my" cake the way I bake it and serve it in my dessert application (with dried fruits included almond, pine nut, pomegranate and a yogurt/lebne sorbet) don't say "you don't need the almond flour" unless you've made it and the more traditional cake and found the latter superior. That's where the creativity, palate and skills of a chef and pastry chef comes into play--the proof is in the end result whether something seems needed or not. In general, it is wise not to speculate about--let alone blindly criticize the work of others which you haven't tasted, haven't made and/or may not understand. That would be like telling Philippe Conticini--who sprinkles complex mixtures of spices and mingles many seemingly disparate ingredients in his very delicious, very poetic desserts--"you don't need all those spices"--or saying to Mozart, you have too many notes. Do you want to be one of those people who thought Mozart's music had too much going on to take seriously?

The minute you mention "expect" or "enjoy" this says more about you--your subjective preferences--and your awareness of food and chefs--than it does about DC. Daniel, I don't mean this in a negative way, but there are many talented chefs in DC, some doing more simple enjoyable things and some doing more modern, more creative enjoyable things--sometimes it can be a creative French or Spanish or Japanese chef executing the simplest dish with the fewest ingredients. That's what's great about the American culinary scene. Whether you're able to enjoy that freedom, that diversity, is entirely up to you.

Is it really a surprise to anyone that to find that nice, fresh, seasonal, traditional, inexpensive Italian simplicity you have to be, you know, in the regions of Italy--partaking of their special ingredients sourced locally from their soil arranged into their familiar meal of small portions in their ambience? You might want to take a look at this interesting thread, called "Attacking Italian restaurants outside of Italy" http://forums.egullet.org/index.php?showtopic=33017 I think the questions you should be asking yourself are now that you've seen and learned firsthand how these Italian guys seemingly manipulate and transform these same 3 or 4 local ingredients into something magical--how has that changed your outlook on cooking? Will you be able to reliably source local ingredients special enough back here in DC to enable you to as well and will your customers appreciate and support your efforts at the undoubtedly much higher cost? You'll have to do more shopping yourself or Fedex and pay much more for the ingredients if you're lucky enough to find them--because other chefs here and in other cities are also combing the greenmarkets and farmers and vendors for the truly good seasonal stuff. And once you do find it your customer, the average DC consumer still buys tomatoes in January based on how red, round and perfect they are--rather than buying in season and based on taste--and still prefers quantity (an over-sized entree, usually steak) versus a sequence of delicious small plates. (And nice, simple, fresh and inexpensive meals, Italian and otherwise, became difficult to find in all major US food cities years ago, I'm afraid, not just DC.)

Still, there was some interesting stuff in that short Q&A and I certainly feel that our area doesn't know McBride as well as it should or as well as it knows other chefs who cook within hotels. I can't help but wonder what effect not having a publicist for 4 years played in how the identity of the restaurant and chef has been perceived and would have wished a followup, also whether repeated talk of "reconcepting" is a good thing, and something about this question stuck: "The trend for quite some time has been fusion cuisine, what do see as the next trend? Brian McBride: I feel the next trend will be the very simplest manipulation of high quality food using the freshest ingredients available to update classic dishes. A heavy inspiration of French technique combined with modern interpretation." Maybe it's the fact that I view pretty much all the best and most interesting cooking these days as an inevitable form of "fusion," with fusion being defined as a good thing as very personal cooking which assimilates many disparate influences through a chef's own evolving creative process and palate--that what Michel Richard and Fabio and Jose do are their own brand of personal fusion, of personal expression--and that for them being aware of what Berasategui is doing and what Girardet did 15 years ago is a common currency between all three--so given that: how might Brian's response be seen as a coming trend? Doesn't this seem like the decades old "modern American" cooking we have an adundance of already in DC--isn't this the Alice Waters-influenced mantra and aren't these buzzwords--simple, freshest ingredients, updated classics, French technique with a modern twist--beyond trend, having been employed for years by many chefs coast to coast let alone in DC? I'm unsure what to take away from this answer: does he mean that there's not enough of this kind of cooking already going on in DC and that we'll see even more of it? or that the many practitioners who claim to cook like this in our area will manipulate even more simply or start using even better fresher ingredients? Thanks to the Post online as media sponsor for putting this out there again this year, and for Brian to sit in, because raising some awareness can only be good long term.

You'll see that show up in other ways, too, Wendy, like if you try to do cutouts from a plastic sheet or transfer sheet--and you're working in a cool room or on a cool marble--you might want to put a wooden cutting board down underneath your plexiglass panel before you spread and then cut the chocolate--that cool marbe surface can shock the chocolate even through the plexiglass.

There is nothing special about those molded chocolates in Claudia's book--it is a very nice photo of typically well-executed molded chocolates that are done every day by the thousands all over the country--from Jennifer/samaki to Pat Coston to Norman Love to Drew to students in cooking schools. This is how molded chocolates with a dark couverture should look, no more, no less. But let's examine this more closely as a kind of teaching and awareness tool: if you wanted to be picky as a judge might be picky--as most chocolate afficionados are picky--even in this Claudia picture you see flaws because really professionally done pictures reveal ALL flaws--you can see some stippling, little surface dots, in the row of molded pyramids, you can see a little pock mark on the round candy in the lower right, and you can see a bad air bubble in lower right hand top corner of the square candy fourth from the bottom. All of these result from little errors in the tempering and molding process--something that didn't crystallize right, chocolate that wasn't 100% at the right temperature, a mold that had a little speck or smudge on it. Sometimes you have to spray or brush into a difficult mold to make sure you don't get an air bubble like that in a corner. None of this will affect the eating and taste in any way--but it is flaws like these--and like seeing fingerprints--that if magnified, and especially if noticeable on a less than shiny chocolate--reveal you're dealing with an amateur or less-skilled pro, someone who doesn't take pride in what they do or a vendor who mishandles the chocolates sent to them for resale. That means, even if you've never worked with chocolate, you can look into the chocolate display case at a Dean & Deluca and merely by looking make a judgement about the work of the chocolatiers represented and of the care D&D takes in handling it. That's why it is always a good idea to be able to see the chocolates you are buying--either in a case or wrapped in a giftbox--there are visual things you can pick up on if you know what to look for. You should never buy anything you cannot see unless it is from an impeccably-trusted source. And as far as enhancing the shine in something molded--that is done often but not necessarily by any special product or technique: given a clean mold as Lesley outlined, you'll get a just slightly better shine--a just slightly better glisten and sparkle--if you spray into the mold first before pouring and lining the mold with regular tempered chocolate. Spray with a regular spray mixture--a mix of your couverture thinned with cocoa butter with some powdered color or not--through a spray gun (which we've mentioned often on eG.) That extra bit of cocoa butter and that very fine spray enhance shine. But that isn't what was done in this Claudia example. And Jennifer--I'm afraid I'm with Lesley on the intricacies of the guitar and dipping--there really is no substitute for spending time with someone trained in that old school French, Belgian or Swiss confectioner model, to learn the methods and how to use the equipment, which is why when specialists like a Werner Hitz or Jean-Pierre Wybauw come to the US to teach, like at Ewald's school or Jacquy's school in Chicago, their classes sell out. However, it should be said Americans will never actually appreciate this--and you'll likely never make any money by dipping by hand. You'll continue to see two basic tiers of chocolate production shake out: 1) entry level all by hand--truffles, molded candies, etc.--with or without a tempering machine and 2) People who invest in an enrobing machine--and turn out chocolates like the Herme-consulted line sold through Wegmans. You'll also likely see more people buy cheap commercial shells, fill them, and pass themselves off as skilled artisan chocolatiers a la Vosges. Lesley--I have known at least one top French chocolatier who advocated putting polycarbonate molds in a dishwasher--on regular heat, with no soap and no dry cycle, with the cavities rubbed gently with cotton afterward. But though I can't prove it, I still feel a little leery about this--I always feel like it just spreads the film of the melted chocolate around on all the molds. But Jan, if you're working with standard professional polycarbonate molds, either clear or white, they'll hold up just fine in the dishwasher.

If you keep experimenting I think you'll probably find that when you're dipping/enrobing the softer transfer sheet plastic, the polyethylene, will work better--and some chocolatiers even use little pre-cut square inch pieces of the polyethylene, with a design on it to transfer, which they drop on a just enrobed chocolate. You can tell these because they'll be flat, shiny on the bottom and shiny on the top with a pattern, with the top edge very flat and somewhat pressed down. In your first example what you're talking about might be slightly different Wendy--are you dipping and then sliding or inverting a bon bon onto a sheet--and a textured sheet at that? So the bottom is actually going to be the top and have the texure? If so, what's probably happening to you is 1) by the time you're getting the piece off of your fork by sliding or inverting the chocolate is too cold and not spreading/flowing into the texture enough 2) your couverture isn't the right couverture for dipping or at the right temp 3) your sheets are too cold sitting on your countertop/marble 4) your chocolate is too thick from over-aerating or stirring it--do you sometimes see little micro-bubbles that don't go away? In general, dipping is very difficult to do "well"--it is much easier to mold than it is dip. Everything you do has to be perfect in a fairly narrow temperature range--you should dip into a large bowl with way more chocolate than you need to hold its temperature better--that chocolate should be new and unused, ideally direct warmed over time or tempered with minimal brisk stirring--and if your fillings are too cold, or if your tempered chocolate is not warm enough, at the most upper range of temper, you'll lose shine and flow. That's also why you see very few hand-dipped chocolates, why some chocolatiers are building businesses around a line of molded chocolates: they're much easier--and until they can afford an enrobing machine and guitar--it's also much less expensive. If your walls are too thick, so what--the outside will still look shiny. Line them up and the outside all looks the same. Line up not-expertly dipped chocolates and, well... (So for those making it this far--with dipping you will get shine if you do it well but it won't be shiny as glass shine--that only comes with being in contact with plastic or polycarbonate.) In your example it seems you're using something fluid enough Wendy--which couverture are you using? What's the temperature of your white fondant center when you dip--and is it a palet, a ball, a kiss shape, what?

One thing I'm curious about--how many of you have determined that the quality of the cocoa powder and/or chocolate/cocoa powder combination you are using affects the end result? By that I mean--can you taste the difference or detect a performance difference when you use different cocoa powders? And the only way to really tell this is to use various cocoa powders--say Hersheys, Valrhona, Cacao Barry, Michel Cluizel, De Zaan, Sharffen Berger--in the same recipe. As you continue to test these this might be something worth tracking as well. Here's an article by Regina Schrambling advocating a renewed appreciation of cocoa powder: http://query.nytimes.com/search/article-pa...751C0A9649C8B63 Though when she writes "Step 1 of producing any cocoa powder is always the same: after cocoa butter is extracted from cacao, the pods are pressed again to make a cake with no fat, just flavor" we know cocoa powders have fat--and it is usually expressed as a percentage on the label.

Also, I just re-read this thread and I should probably address one other point--the plastic/acetate sheets: the more rigid sheets and rolls are "acetate" and the softer more flexible sheets are "polyethylene." Transfer sheets are on the "polyethylene" type. Both can be used with tempered chocolate, both can give nice shine and which you'll want to use will probably depend what you're trying to do with it. The problem with acetate at times is your chocolate can pull away from it unevenly--leaving streaks and dull pockets because it is more rigid.

I haven't mentioned this in a while but a really affordable (and good) "short course" on serious chocolate is that very nice chapter on chocolate in the first--and still best--Jacques Torres book "Dessert Circus." This is probably the best introduction overall: condensed guidance from a pro which is accessible and not dumbed-down--start with that and move forward onto eG, to the Bau if you want to focus on bon bons and ganaches more or one of the more advanced books we mentioned if you want to focus more on molding, tempering and showpiece techniques (which is not what the Bau book is about).

People, please, we don't gain by making this more complicated than it is. That picture in Claudia's book is a picture of very nice, but basic, molded chocolate candies--something very easy to execute. All of those molds can be purchased from JB Prince. You'd cover if you took any recreational basic chocolate skills class--and in the ones I have taught my students mold chocolates successfully the first night. If you learn how to temper, you can mold shiny chocolates like these. Those molds are made of polycarbonate, are rigid, and impart a very nice shine to the tempered chocolate, just like acetate and plastic and glass and shiny metal and bubble-wrap and a million other surfaces and materials impart a nice sheen to tempered chocolate. That was all the rage circa 1995--what can we pour chocolate on or in! Pour some tempered chocolate into a stainless steel mixing bowl, let it set up and guess what? It releases because tempered chocolate contracts and it is shiny because it set up against a clean, shiny, slick surface. (It actually isn't that easy to do well--there are many little ways you can screw up molding--the mold itself is too cold, the mold is too warm, room too warm, room too cold, chocolate too cool or too thick, chocolate is too warm and too fluid, mold dirty, mold rubbed too clean with a cotton ball so it imparts too much static electricty but I'm being optimistic here. The fact is, there is a reason why some people devote their whole lives to working with chocolate and developing an appreciation of chocolate.) Who has been "assuring" you Tom? The first thing you learn when you get your hands into food seriously, and chocolate is a food, is there is very rarely only one way to do something. In an earlier post, you wrote this: "The best way I understand things is to get to the basics, ask basic questions, try things that are new to me, then attempt to build towards what the industry standards are." I still think you need to give yourself some time to learn more about chocolate first, then learn how to temper--much of what you don't seem to be grasping stems from not understanding "the basics" and how or why to temper, read some of the books we have recommended to you, read some of our many older eG threads on chocolate skills, then temper just temper--and then ask the more specific questions--because we don't seem to be helping you to see the basics, to see the big picture or getting through to you. That's our failing, not yours. With that in mind--there's something which might help us to help you more: are you trying to better understand chocolate and position yourself as a more knowledgeable observer of the real chocolate professionals, like a chocophile has positioned himself or are you trying to actually "do" this stuff, as in acquire and then perfect real working knowledge and skills by doing rather than reading and observing? Because there's a difference--and we might be able to better help you go in one way or the other if we knew.

There's always the Alton Brown buttercream method.

"Ideally, that is how I would prefer to order. I'd choose an appetizer, a bottle of wine, see how that works, get an idea of what is coming out of the kitchen, then order the next course, wine, etc..but that is impractical from many viewpoints, both consumer and kitchen's. Although, when afforded the luxury of time, I've ordered meals that way." Kim and chefette--I think you've both hit on the reason why tapas, and now "small plates" restaurant and bar menu concepts with varied sources of inspiration are trending upward--diners like you have spoken--this is how they want to eat instead of being locked into 1) the a la carte standard conservative one-app/large portion entree/too full for dessert meal or 2) the fixed price tasting menu promulgated by too many chefs. They want an interesting variety of food in manageable "tasting menu" portions, at their own pace--and ideally these places offer interesting dessert options as well.

This is often perceived as a very complex issue but at its core it doesn't really need to be. Mark strikes a chord with me when he writes: "If you want to see the dessert menu at the same time as the dinner menu, why wouldn't you just ask for it?" That's because as a diner you can control your experience to a larger extent than you may realize--if you are in the minority of diners who believe dessert to be an integral part of a restaurant experience--and are pre-disposed to appreciate a chef and pastry chef working together to create a meal which flows, where desserts are given the same thought, why not reveal that right up front and ask to see the dessert menu? As you're planning the flow of your meal--reacting to ingredients and turns of phrase and feeling out what you might be tempted by--why NOT ask for the dessert menu and reveal to the server that you view a meal in its entirety? So I see this as very good advice from Mark--you're in control and you're responsible for conveying your expectations as a diner--so the restaurant can try their best to meet those expectations. I tend not to dine at restaurants which "insist" I order dessert at the beginning of the meal, Bux--but I often go in the opposite direction--I'll ask the chef to do a tasting menu, to choose my meal for me and that includes dessert. I'll leave it up to him or her and only look at menus afterward. "I don't think it does any favors for the front OR the back of the house to keep it all under wraps!" Agreed, but it might be a good strategy if there's nothing special to offer the guest anyway! There's nothing like another perfunctory dessert to keep reinforcing the perception that dessert is a waste of time or money--an afterthought--rather than an integral part of a meal or of the experience of dining out. If there is something special--you'll see them being brought out to the dining room to other diners and you'll see and hear reactions to the desserts at other tables. You'll wonder "what was in that cool-looking glass" or you'll say "that table really seemed to like that dessert." "I think customers should have the opportunity to see what's for dessert....they are more likely to save room for it if they see something tempting, and it's less of a "sell" for the servers when the customer already has dessert on their mind!" Well, "seeing" the dessert isn't the same thing as reading a menu--and neither approach is necessarily more likely to ensure a dessert worth ordering. I think what's more likely to sell a dessert or create the expectation of dessert is a server who conveys enthusiasm for the desserts, a chef or owner who promotes the pastry chef as a key member of the culinary team and puts the pastry chef in more positions to interact with the public and the clientele, a critic who notes the name of the pastry chef doing interesting work in a review or a magazine writer who cares enough to place the name of the pastry chef in magazine articles when the desserts are found to be special. That helps conveys expectation and raises appreciation and awareness--and the problem is, frankly, we're still losing the battle for appreciation of dessert--even from the people whose job it is, supposedly, to appreciate dessert and pastry chefs. "Most restaurants in my neck of the woods merely consider dessert an afterthought, and not nearly as much care goes into dessert as much as the main courses.....in fact, most desserts are "bought in" rather than made in-house." "It sucks and it doesn't make job prospects very plentiful, that's for sure" This is the future, as more food and pastry ingredient distributors develop lines of defrost-ready-to-serve desserts to sell to more chefs, restaurants and hotels, who are already de-prioritizing dessert and thereby reducing the number of creative jobs for trained pastry chefs and bakers: get used to it or join in our fight against it on eG by raising awareness and expressing your dissatisfaction each and every time you are in a restaurant that serves perfunctory, commercial or just plain bad desserts. When you're asked "if everything was alright" say no, that you were disappointed the dessert didn't match the expectation or level of the food, that you appreciate chefs and restaurants which care about dessert and that you'll be less likely to return, even though the food was very good, because of this.

I do a firmer ball sometimes, Aidan, in warm weather. Which book/magazine/recipe are you working from that doesn't mention temperature or how to test the proper stage and just says boil for a couple of minutes? Also, beside cooking to the right temperature, you'll get a better meringue if you gradually, slowly, pour the syrup onto the whipping whites.

Jon--you have problems imagining Rufus Sewell playing a cynical brooding chef, who has worked his whole life sweating and burning himself in the kitchen? You don't think of a Bourdain or Eric Ripert when you think Sewell? I loved him as Seth, the brooding son destined for bigger and better things in...that's right...show biz, in "Cold Comfort Farm." He just might be a perfect foil for some perky wannabee flush out of cooking school. But that sounds more like a made-for-tv movie. Let the hilarity ensue.

We're pleased to announce the addition of four new forum hosts to the eGullet.com team: Neil Robertson ("nightscotsman") and Wendy DeBord ("Sinclair") have become Pastry & Baking forum co-hosts. Pedro Espinosa Silva ("Pedro") joins the Spain & Portugal forum hosting team. And Ron Kaplan ("ronnie_suburban") takes on co-hosting duties in the US Heartland forum. All are homegrown, all promoted from within our membership, the passion and enthusiasm of which continues to impress. Neil Robertson ("nightscotsman") is a baker in the pastry kitchen at the Bellagio Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas. A recent career changer to the pastry profession, Neil was formerly a successful graphic designer and Web developer in Seattle before chucking it all and moving to Chicago to attend the French Pastry School. After graduating at the top of his class, he worked a couple brief stages at Charlie Trotter's in Chicago and at Trio in Evanston, IL. While he greatly enjoyed his time at the restaurants, his major goal was to get the widest possible experience doing high-quality pastry work. For him, working under Executive Pastry Chef and MOF Jean Philippe Maury and his team of top French and American pastry chefs at the Bellagio has been a dream come true. Wendy DeBord ("Sinclair") is an accidental second-generation pastry chef. She attended a private art school at 16 where she won scholarships and awards, and yet she didn't know what her career would be. On weekends she washed dishes and played around at her mother's bakery. It was fun observing and baking came very easily to her. As time passed her Mother's bakery morphed into a gourmet off-premise catering business. She needed help, and soon she bribed Wendy out of art school to become her partner. By 21 Wendy was running the kitchen, working for famous, rich, and powerful people. "It was fun, it came easily, and it paid the bills," Wendy said, but it wasn't her true calling. After about 9 years of catering she needed to leave and be the artist she always dreamed of being. With the support of her husband she spent the next 10 years of her life learning how true the phrase "starving artist" was. Eventually she came back to the kitchen, since she wasn't having fun being an artist, and since baking was what she did best she found work as a pastry chef. It didn't take her long on the job before she realized that this still was a lot of fun, it still came easily to her and it never felt like "work." Today she works at private country clubs, is enjoying her work as much as ever and is obsessed with learning and teaching herself as much as possible about the career her mother loved first. Born in Barcelona and living in Madrid, Pedro Espinosa Silva's ("Pedro") degree in Physics should have given him a privileged comprehension of molecular gastronomy. Instead, it gave him a managerial job in an IT consulting company. Perhaps the major in computer science and an Executive MBA had something to with it. Having grown up in a family with a great cook, his mother, he's been passionate about food since he was a child. During his student years he enjoyed the pleasures of fine dining. Ahead of his time, he did it virtually, reading the weekly reviews in the press. Now his position has turned less radical, and combines virtual and real experiences. Ron Kaplan ("ronnie_suburban") is a chronic gastronaut who has lived in the Chicago area for most of his life. He was blasted into the World of Food during his early college years at Tulane University in New Orleans and has been chasing that dragon ever since. He owns a food ingredient business and has worked in the trade for the better part of 20 years. Ron is a member of the American Institute of Wine and Food, The Bread Bakers Guild of America, and the Institute of Food Technologists. He is a passionate and obsessive home cook, bread baker, and cookbook collector. When not obsessing about food, Ron can be found destroying harmonicas (and ear drums) or slaying baddies on-line, in virtual universes. He currently resides with his wife and son in the northern suburbs of Chicago.

That was on Ramis, but Reitman got a mention midway through: http://newyorker.com/fact/content/?040419fa_fact3 Unfortunately for Tad, it read like it was several thousands of words too long.

I've frequented the Rosslyn Pho 75 location and find it consistent as well Don, but stopped going to Eden Center once Minh's opened, since Minh's surpassed Four Sisters in terms of interest, flavor and charm the day it opened and, as you said, too much of what else is there at Eden Center now is merely good. But Alexandra Greeley had a very in-depth piece in the Winter 2002 issue of Gastronomica called "Pho: The Vietnamese Addiction" and we e-mailed after the article appeared. Granted it is not as current, but here's a portion of our exchange with her perspective on this: "probably the most authentic pho is Pho Xe Lua in Eden Center, to the left of the big market. I like Pho Tay Ho at Bailey's Crossroads and there's another good place next to Mark's Duck House. My favorite in Falls Church changed owners; it was called Pho Pasteur, and I haven't been back since. Many people swear by Pho 75, but the owner, whom I interviewed, doesn't use bones or the long, slow method, saying he can get just as good results using meat only. Purists certainly would disagree. Otherwise, most restaurants use a packet of soup starter and don't begin from scratch. And for heaven's sake, never order it at a restaurant with a full Vietnamese menu; you'll just get dishwater."