Sneakeater

The Liz Claiborne one is incredibly rare. I'd be shocked if you would be willing to pay what it fetches in the secondary market.

If "Miller" means Bryan, it can't be 1964. (THAT was tiresome, right?)

I ate dinner at Landmarc last night and it struck me that this is one of those restaurants that eats better than it thinks, if you know what I mean. Well, you probably don't. What I'm trying to say is that, when I'm not there, it seems completely uninteresting: a dull menu competently prepared. When I'm eating there, though, I remember that the execution is much more than merely competent -- and the menu may not be "interesting", but there's always something on it that I want. So I hereby apologize to Landmarc for all the unexpressed negative thoughts I have about it between visits.

OK, I'm going to say something incendiary, and I apologize. It seems to me that the people who are making the biggest deal about this live in secondary markets. Where maybe the kind of attention to fresh produce, and even to quality itself, that frequent menu changes evidences isn't something you necessarily take for granted. But if you live somewhere where you kind of take the availability of a lot of quality restaurants of various kinds for granted (and assume that any quality restaurant is going to use quality ingredients [at least insofar as its price range permits]), the constantly-changing menu becomes less important, certainly as in indicator of quality -- nothing more than a feature of certain restaurants, some of them much better than others (and some much worse).

This is the non-New York Times Mimi Sheraton guide I was thinking of: http://www.bookfinder4u.com/detail/0135875935.html That site lists a whole bunch of New York Times guides from over the years, BTW. (Sorry if this is getting tiresome.)

And look at this. Here's a fairly recent (but still pre-Bruni) New York Times guide that appears to be easily available, if not in print: http://www.bookfinder4u.com/compare.bfu?isbn=0966865995

The Britchky guide is discussed (and its full title given) in the site linked below. It also mentions a Mimi Sheraton book, but it isn't the one I was thinking of, but rather another New York Times guide. http://foodfest.neworleans.com/top_ten.php?TTID=280

There was a New York restaurant guide from the Eighties by Seymour Britchky which essentially compiled entries from his newsletter. I think that Mimi Sheraton also published a similar guide, maybe a few years after Britchky's, compiling entries from her newsletter.

Here are some links to discussions here that mention editions of these Times guides (AND GIVE THE TITLES): http://forums.egullet.org/index.php?showtopic=49482 http://forums.egullet.org/index.php?showtopic=49627&st=0

I think the titles varied. At least one was called something like The New York Times Guide to New York Restaurants (and it was never anything much more creative than that). I feel terrible, cuz the one or two old ones I had got thrown out in a bout of cleaning last year. (I knew I'd regret it.) I'm pretty sure Fat Guy has referred to his having at least one of them, so with luck he'll see this thread and pipe in.

I don't think there's a current one. They used to put them out periodically (they were called "guides" rather than "anthologies", but the write-ups were all or mostly based on published reviews), so if you're interested for historical reasons you might be able find some of the old out-of-print ones on used book websites.

Even places where the menu doesn't change daily often have specials.

I don't see this as a controlling factor. I almost see it as independent of quality. Some good restaurants change their menus frequently -- almost daily -- and I like that. Some don't, and I like that, too. And some restaurants that aren't so good do both -- but them I'm not so fond of. I don't see it as having much bearing on the quality of the food. It's sort of a quality-neutral factor. (To me, elevating factors like this to being quality-determinant is sort of like the Cult of the Coal Pizza Oven. As anyone who's eaten in DiFaro's or Nick's [those are just New York examples] or any of the other great steel-oven places can tell you, the greatest pizza doesn't necessarily come out of coal ovens. The skill and attentiveness of the chef and the quality of the ingredients trump that.)

Franny was very proud to tell me that she invented Il Piano herself. When I ordered them from a table rather than the bar, she almost always brought it to me personally.

Did you know that Fernet and Coke is like the national drink of Buenos Aires teenagers? (I don't mean to be insinuating anything by that, Sam.)

For the little it's worth, one of my very favorite cocktails is Il Piano, which used to be but no longer is on the menu at Franny's in Brooklyn. (I was the very first person ever to order one, and I have reason to suspect I was the only person who ever ordered any.) It consists of Fernet Branca, Seven Up, and maybe that's it. If you ask the bartender, I'm sure she or he will make you one.

I've been making Fitty-Fitties cuz they're (a) easy, (b) refreshing (surprisingly for something so strong), and © delicious! 1.5 oz. Junipero gin 1.5 oz. Vya dry vermouth Shake or two of Regans' Orange Bitters No. 6 Orange peel Ascend to heaven.

That's "incredibly lovely" wife. OMIGOD. A lemon thyme dacquiri.

Intros to Aperols (my current favorite) and Old Cubans for me and my date. Can't speak for anyone else.

Putting aside whatever I might think of Babbo and Del Posto, this is certainly what I (and my friends) think of Falai.

It's about a quarter after six on a Friday (yesterday) evening. I'm sitting at a table in the Pegu Club, waiting for my date to meet me. Suddenly, Johnder materializes by my table. He points to his incredibly lovely wife at the bar, and tells me that slkinsey is in the house, and that he can introduce me. He introduces me to slkinsey. We then walk to the bar, where I hang out with Johnder and his incredibly lovely wife while waiting for my date to arrive. My date arrives. We retire to my table. MY DATE: I see you made some friends while you were waiting for me. ME: No, I know those people. We talk about cocktails on the internet. MY DATE: Oh. After a few cocktails, it comes time for my date and me to leave, to pursue our other planned activities for the night. I stop back at the bar, to say goodbye to Johnder and his incredibly lovely wife. On the staircase on the way down and out: MY DATE: How do you know those people, really? ME: I told you. We talk about cocktails on the internet. MY DATE: No. I mean, really. Doesn't seem so hard to believe to me.

Raji, do you have a death wish?

This may not be particularly relevant, but I just wanted to say that I had a pork tenderloin at A Voce this week that was cooked perfectly. None of this bullshit overcooking. It was pink and glistening. I don't know about its tasting "metallic", but it definitely had a very strong porky flavor that many people who are used to the flavorless overcooked masses that are commonly served as "pork" in this country might find objectionable -- imagine, pork has a flavor! -- but that I just love.

The trouble with this is that the "craze" is ruining a perfectly good cocktail. When the "craze" is over, we can go back to drinking normal Mojitos like they're normal drinks.

Surgery? (PS -- That's the place on Thompson, right? Sounds GREAT.)