David Ross

You are definately not alone-as witnessed by all of us who have responded. We all share a commonality in terms of the stresses of our daily lives. -but more importantly, we share your passion for food and cooking. Most people who hear about my work schedule say I'm crazy. I'd have to agree with them. I get up at 4am every day, drive to the airport, take a one hour flight to my office, in another airport, work, fly home, drive home. I usually get back at my house about 630p. Five days a week. My commute just happens to be on an airplane-that's enough stress without adding my 204 employees to the mix. But we also share something that many other people don't-a love of food and cooking. I agree with Chris-cooking and working with food is a stress reliever. I can't tell you how comforting it is to pull into the driveway after a 14 hour day and look forward to the simplest of home-cooked meals, maybe some grilled steak or chicken and a simple green salad. And while that type of dinner may only take a few minutes to cook and plate, yes, it is worth it because it brings me back home and back to something I enjoy after what is often a trying day at work. As others have said, planning is critical. I try to plan my workday menus on Saturday. I may do a braised meat dish on Saturday that I can stretch into a couple of meals-say starting with a braised beef over polenta, then maybe the next day mixing some of the beef with barbecue sauce for a sandwich. I'm at the point where the only cooking I do during my work week where I don't want to do any type of dish that takes more work than putting a pot in the oven or grilling a steak in a pan. I may splurge on my efforts and open a can of olives for the salad. (I try to stay away from any sweets on worknights). I do my "Fancy" cooking on my days off-tommorrow I plan on preparing, writing about and photographing my attempts at the perfect enchiladas. Saturday I'm really getting fussy and doing some sweetbreads and frogs legs, (not in the same dish). So I don't think you're whining. Just seek out the balance that works for you, don't push yourself in the kitchen during the workweek, and always look forward to coming home and sitting down to dinner. Then go all out on your days off.

I think your plate is beautiful! The venison looks delicious, perfectly medium-rare. What I noted, and what I think plays into the beauty of your dish, is that you have a bit of sauce on the side of the plate and the plate is resting on that rustic looking wood table. And the heavy steak knife is just another element that plays into what I think makes great food photography-all of the parts must fit together naturally. And what better way to showcase game meat than in a composition like yours. Food should always look inviting and delicious. It can work with the most "architecturally-perfect" plate served at a Michelin star restaurant, but it can also work with what we cook at home. Nice job. Thanks for sharing it with us.

Wonderful questions, thank you for asking. One important fact to note is that Las Vegas doesn’t merely exist for the tourist trade. While gaming and tourism are a primary source of revenue for the city, Las Vegas is the home to thousands of members of the armed forces and is the center of commerce for Southern Nevada. While it may be hard to imagine, many people that call Las Vegas home never set foot in a casino or resort hotel. They do, however, eat at what we call “local” restaurants. So while it is hidden from the viewers of the Travel Channel, there is a “there,” if you will, in Las Vegas. From what some Chef’s have told me, there are a few small farmer’s in the Las Vegas area that supply them with products, but just a few. One Chef I spoke to last May, actually sends one of his cooks over to the Santa Monica farmer’s market twice a week to buy seasonal produce. He supplements that stock with what he buys through the hotel purchasing department-the stuff that is ordered off a spreadsheet. Many cities face the same challenge-the demands of the restaurants far outweigh the ability of the local farmer’s community to provide an adequate supply of provisions. It’s just highlighted to a greater degree in Las Vegas due to the limitations of the agricultural landscape that prevents farmer's from cultivating products in huge quantities. And don’t forget, Las Vegas is a city that has virtually grown-up overnight. (The “Strip” didn’t really exist before 1941). There isn’t a history of decades and decades of traditions with food and cuisine. It will take many more years for Las Vegas to establish its own food traditions. Yet I don’t believe that has to happen before I can declare Las Vegas a great restaurant city. This question brings us back to what the panel discussed-“Does a city have to be a ‘great food city’ in order to be a ‘great restaurant city?” In the case of Las Vegas, I don’t believe it does. Las Vegas is in my notebook of reviews, already a great restaurant city. Does the fact that nearly every ingredient served on every plate is imported mean the Las Vegas dining experience lacks something? Perhaps for some, but not for me. The signature Artichoke (from California), Soup with Black Truffles (from France), served at Guy Savoy in Caesar’s Palace is most delicious-and memorable. You may ask “what can I get there, (in Las Vegas), that I can’t find in other fine dining cities like New York, Paris or Tokyo?” That of course, is a particularly personal question. As I’ve mentioned on other pages, dining in Las Vegas offers a memorable experience to some people who may never have the opportunity to dine at Le Bernadin in New York. Take the group from Northern Idaho in town for three days for a convention. They’ll never have the opportunity to dine on the Left Bank in Paris, never have the financial means to eat at an authentic sushi bar in Tokyo. But they do have this chance to travel to Las Vegas and eat at Restaurant Guy Savoy-arguably one of the finest French dining rooms in America. So you see, the concept of “farm-fresh,” “seasonal,” “locally-grown,” ingredients may not be of great importance to these customers. What is important is that they are given a pleasurable, delicious dining experience amidst the excitement of Las Vegas. They expect the Chef will use top-quality products, but where those products come from may not matter to them. In my opinion, that is part of what makes Las Vegas a great dining city-it caters to those who are seeking a great experience. It’s a thought that is often lost on those of us who are “serious” foodies. (You know who you are-you only eat fresh asparagus from Walla Walla, and only the first week of June). The “customer” in Las Vegas is unique because they are dining in the moment so to speak, and their satisfaction is a point that we should consider when we discuss the Las Vegas dining scene. When Steingarten said that “Las Vegas doesn’t exist from the street up,” I got the sense he was dreaming about some small town in Southern France where the main street is lined with stucco buildings with café’s and patisseries on the street level and laundry hanging out of the upper windows. A quaint little town where shopping for leeks and a chicken for the pot is a part of daily life. Steingarten’s vision will probably never come to life in Las Vegas. That’s partly a fact of geography and the natural layout of the city. The city is too vast and spread too far to ever have quaint little streets full of food shops. But what will grow and rise from the desert will be Las Vegas’s own version of a food community. It may come in the form of strip malls and concrete jungles, but it’s already happening. If you go to the “Fear and Lotus in Las Vegas” topic, you’ll read about and see some of the exciting things that are happening in the Asian dining community in Las Vegas. And while the shops and restaurants may not be on quaint side streets, they offer some delicious bites. That’s the start of what I see as a local “food culture” in Las Vegas. I truly believe that the growth of a food culture, whatever cuisine or form it may take, will benefit not only the residents, but also the tourists, the Chefs and the greater Las Vegas restaurant community.

I agree with what some of you have said so appropriately-that this episode, if not the entire season to date-has been a huge disappointment in terms of the poor decision-making and skills exhibited by some of the Chefs. If the Chefs would follow some basic guidelines, they might find much more success in their finished dishes-follow the parameters of the specific challenge, create a dish that you can actually prepare within the time limits and present a dish that is unique and would stand-up in the dining room of a "Top Chef." When you break it down into parts it really shouldn't be that difficult. There are numerous examples I could cite where the Chefs have failed, but I'll use our most recent example, the much-awaited departure of Ariane. (She can apparently can cook a turkey if that accounts for any points). To say Ariane "butchered" the leg of lamb is being much too kind. She massacred the lamb. Thankfully she wasn't the person responsible for slaying the poor animal or we'd have ended up with wool in our soup! She cut it, scraped it, beat it, pounded it, rolled it up and messed it up. It was awful-as witnessed by the comments of the judges. Awful. She was given a gift of nature and ruined it. I'm not aware of the equipment in the kitchen at Blue Hill, so I can only second-guess what Ariane might have had at her disposal for cooking the leg of lamb. Did she even consider cooking the lamb in a manner that would have resulted in drawing forth the natural flavor of the meat? A simple roast, maybe paired with a vinaigrette made from the herbs in the garden? Wouldn't that have been lovely served with a warm potato salad? Did she consider doing a simple, rustic dish? The same sort of dish that the farmer's would serve at their family table? The farmers who not only raised this delicious lamb but would be eating Ariane's incarnation of their animal? If the equipment was available, one has to wonder if Ariane considered spit-roasting the lamb over an open fire? If there is a wood-fired oven in the kitchen, would she have considered using it? Wouldn't the smoky flavor of a natural fire give the meat the flavor and scent that would perfectly accent lamb raised on the green pastures just steps from the kitchen? Seems simple for me to sit back and criticize her judgement, but she gave us so many opportunities to do so throughout her few weeks on Top Chef.

That's just how I love this soup -- with a roasted chile paste oil slick floating on rich, fragrant coconut milk. ← Bruce-very nice indeed. I'm kicking myself right now because I'm getting over a very bad cold and now-a week later-I realize what would have been the perfect comfort cure for my malaise-a big bowl of this soup. That deliciously spicy chile oil slick on the top of the soup would have cleared up my sinuses in no time!

My camera finally found its way home last week, so I now have the pleasure of adding to Steven's delicious photos-starting with some snapshots of the dim sum at Ping Pang Pong- Are we ready to begin the eating marathon? Steven perusing the carts- A closer look at the dumplings- The best part of the dim sum at Ping Pang Pong, the flaky pastry- Buttery, light and delicious pastry holding sweet bean paste-

Saturday, October 25, 2008-“From Hot Buffets to Haute Cuisine: Defining an American Food City and the Culinary Transformation of Las Vegas,” Panel Discussion at the University of Nevada-Las Vegas- The cool, crisp air of Saturday morning helped me shake off the disagreeable after-effects of the Barolo at Valentino the previous evening. I was off to the University of Nevada Las Vegas for some schooling about the state of the Las Vegas restaurant community. A week earlier, as I was packing for my trip to Las Vegas, a thought came to mind-I’m going to attend some special events in honor of Mr. Beard, so why not take my most cherished Beard cookbook along for the journey? I tucked “The Fireside Cookbook” into my carry-on for the journey South. Grandmother Ross had purchased “The Fireside Cookbook” as a first edition when it was published some 60 years ago. I think she bought the book more out of pride for the State of Oregon, (we share our native Oregonian heritage with Mr. Beard’s family), than anything else. Grandma was a simple farm-cook, (which if you think about it, is the epitome of the “American” cuisine Beard promoted-fresh, seasonal, wholesome, nutritious food in ample quantity). The lack of tattered pages with water spots and pencil notes in the margins tells me Grandmother rarely cooked any of the recipes in The Fireside Cookbook. She certainly wasn’t going to use the cookbook to prepare Beard’s recipe for “Sweetbreads en Brochette.” I didn’t really care if the cookbook was ever used for practical purposes. Fate had blessed me, and all of these years later I had a valuable piece of Beard’s legacy. I was waiting in the lobby of the building where the hospitality classes are taught at UNLV when a woman walked in and asked if I was waiting for the Panel Discussion associated with the Beard Taste America Events. She then introduced herself as Susan Ungaro, the President of the James Beard Foundation. After exchanging pleasantries, our visit turned into one of those chance meetings that you can’t script in advance-one of those spur of the moment encounters that leave you with lasting impressions. We struck up a conversation about the Taste America events and the private dinner I had enjoyed at Valentino. I told Susan that I had a cookbook that I had brought with me to Las Vegas and she might be interested in seeing it. I reached into my bag and pulled out Grandmother’s first edition of The Fireside Cookbook. Imagine the look on Susan’s face-President of the Beard Foundation-when she saw my first edition of one of Beard’s early cookbooks. The Foundation doesn’t have a large collection of original works by Mr. Beard, so it was my pleasure to share a part of my family with Ms. Ungaro. I went on to explain my family history and how my Grandmother came to own the cookbook, and how, like Mr. Beard, I was a native Oregonian. After the success of the white truffle dinner at Valentino on Friday night, I never would have imagined that this moment with the cookbook at another event dedicated to Mr. Beard’s would be so memorable. The work of James Beard was beginning to come full circle. Beard had written about the white truffle in 1949 in the Fireside Cookbook-and I held a first edition of that book in my hands. I had just been introduced to the President of the Beard Foundation and had taken the opportunity to share this important piece of Beard’s legacy with her. A surprise encounter indeed. The composition of the panel reminded me of an “East vs. West” college all-star football game. Three formidable figures from New York City represented the “East,” or national perspective-Mitchell Davis, Vice President of the James Beard Foundation, Alan Richman, arguable the Dean of America’s top Food Writers, and Jeffrey Steingarten, recognized today as the top judge on “Iron Chef America” on Food Network. On the panel representing the local views from the “West” (Las Vegas), were Dr. Pat Moreo, Professor in the Food and Beverage Department at UNLV, Chef Paul Bartolotta of “Bartolotta Ristorante Di Mare” at the Wynn, and John Curtas, Food Writer, KLAS, KNPR and Master of ELV.com. John was instrumental in bringing the Beard Foundation and “Taste America,” to Las Vegas. (And for assembling this studied panel). I took a seat amongst the 40 students in attendance. (They really had no idea as to the impressive backgrounds of the panelists, but they soon realized they were in the company of some heavy-hitters in the food world). From left to right-Alan Richman, Dr. Pat Moreo, Mitchell Davis acting as the Moderator of the Discussion, Jeffrey Steingarten, Chef Bartolotta and John Curtas- The selection of Richman and Steingarten to the panel lent a huge amount of credibility to the argument that Las Vegas has become an emerging presence on the American dining scene. And opposed to what some of the today’s bloggers may have written, I didn’t find either Richman or Steingarten to be a “curmudgeon.” In fact, both are humorous, informative, intellectual, and quite pleasant gentlemen. Steingarten’s comments came in the same form of biting witticism that we’ve witnessed in his capacity as a judge on Iron Chef America. His criticism’s were quite amusing and he often stuck the tip of the Chef’s knife in the back of the other members of the panel. He often started his response with a question to another panel member, knowing they would be at a loss for words-“if you had eaten the street food in Hong Kong you would have tasted the noodles, wouldn’t you?” But first appearances aren’t always what in the end is the truth. Witty remarks aside, over the course of the discussion Steingarten made some of the most prophetic statements of any of the members on the panel. “Las Vegas doesn’t exist from the street up” Steingarten said. (In other words, Las Vegas is a “Strip” of gleaming glass and concrete hotel towers that are a fabrication of something somewhere else. There are no small shops, cozy café’s or Mom and Pop produce stands lining the streets). Inevitably, whenever one discusses the merits of Las Vegas being a top dining destination, the conversation turns to the subject of where the food products come from. Some argue that Las Vegas is not worthy of being named a top American dining city because all of the products are brought in from somewhere else. The highlight of this particular discussion came when Steingarten decreed that “the Alice Water’s religion is loosening where ‘everything’ must be local.” I wholeheartedly agree. Steingarten used the example of the seafood that is served in Las Vegas. All of that seafood is shipped from somewhere else-Spot Prawns from Alaska, Spiny Lobsters from St. Maarten, Spanner Crabs from Australia-it all comes from literally hundreds, thousands of miles, away from the parched dessert sands of Las Vegas. If the seafood served in Las Vegas is imported from somewhere else, does that mean it isn’t any good? Does that mean Las Vegas isn’t a city where you can eat deliciously fresh seafood? Of course not. If we limit Chefs to only using locally-sourced products does that “dumb-down” their cuisine? Of course not. The success of a dish isn’t merely based on whether the walleye was fished out of Lake Mead or Lake Michigan. The success of a dish is based more on the quality and freshness of the product, combined with the creativity and technical skills of the Chef. Certainly if you live in the Pacific Northwest like I do, using locally grown peaches picked off a 60-year old tree in your backyard the second week of September is going to give your cobbler an incredibly deep, rich peach flavor. Yet the peaches from Frog Hollow Farm in California that are used by Chef Rick Moonen at RM Seafood in Las Vegas are just as good as the ones in my backyard in Spokane. Bursting with sweet, peachy juices, the Frog Hollow Farms peaches are a living example of how a Chef in Las Vegas can create a delicious, signature cuisine. The discussion then turned to Chef Paul Bartolotta and how he brought his concept of Mediterreannean seafood cuisine to Las Vegas. (And I would add that both Steingarten and Richman declared that Bartolotta Ristorante di Mare at the Wynn is the top Italian seafood restaurant in America). Chef Bartolotta pointed to some interesting facts that make his restaurant unique to Las Vegas-and bolster the argument that Las Vegas is in fact, one of America’s top dining destinations. Chef Bartolotta was not immediately smitten with idea of pulling up his roots in the Midwest and venturing to Las Vegas. It was only after intense negotiations with Steve Wynn that he made the commitment. That commitment involved creative control of the menu and an attention to detail in terms of the quality of the seafood that is nearly unmatched at any other restaurant in America. You can read about and view some photos of this attention to detail at this link to a story I wrote about the kitchens at the Wynn: Without such a commitment, both in terms of quality and the financial resources to back it up, Bartolotta wouldn’t have signed on with Wynn. Well over half of the guests that dine at Bartolotta are repeat customers-a telling statistic given the fact that most of the customer base in Las Vegas is transitory. Most patrons dine once at a restaurant and never return. (Chef Bartolotta spoke about a wealthy Italian family that books rooms at the Wynn for ten nights every summer and dines at his restaurant nearly every single night. I should be so lucky as to have that line of credit). Chef was quick to point out that unlike some of the other high-end dining establishments on the Strip, Bartolotta pursues both a quality dining experience with basic, sound, profitable restaurant economics. Many of the restaurants in the Bartolotta price category, (extremely expensive), exist solely to sate the pleasures of the high-rollers whose rooms and restaurant bills are “paid” by the hotel. As such, many of these restaurants are what we call “lost-leaders”-palaces of decadence that exist not as profitable businesses but to serve as a part of the overall fantasy we’ve come to know as Las Vegas. Steingarten put it in simple, understandable terms, “the artistic freedom of a Chef is born out of economic freedom.” In other words, give a talented Chef the economic freedom to explore his creativity and profits will come. Simply signing on a “celebrity Chef” and putting the registered trademark over the door isn’t enough. The example set by Bartolotta at Wynn is a lesson in quality and business acumen that other restaurants in Las Vegas would be wise to study. The discussion took a turn to a subject that is not always welcome by those who are advocates of the Las Vegas dining community. Mitchell Davis posed the ominous question-“is Las Vegas a great ‘food city’?” “Can Las Vegas be called a great ‘restaurant city’ if it lacks the soul of a great food cit’?” Alan Richman’s example of a great food city was Hong Kong in the 1960’s. (Richman thinks Las Vegas is a “terrible” food city with some great restaurants.”). Chef Bartolotta said the “ethnic, simple food of New York” defined it as a gread food city. John Curtas named “Bologna, Italy and Vancouver, B.C. as both great food cities and great restaurant cities.” Professor Moreo pointed out that when he came to Las Vegas in 1967, “most of the residents were transplants from New York and Chicago-many of them second-generation Italian-Americans who brought their food traditions with them.” According to the Professor, back then there was wonderful, traditional pizza in Las Vegas-a traditional slice of America that would sadly melt away in the coming years as the demographic make-up of Las Vegas changed. The wise Professor noted that today Las Vegas is considered the home of the “New Southwest” rather than the home of generations of immigrants. Waves of people flooded Clark County during the economic boom of the past 15 years-the motivation being the thousands of jobs that were available at the time. (Sadly, depending on who you speak to, dining revenue in Las Vegas was down by nearly 20% in 2008). Unfortunately, food traditions, ethnic cuisines and markets, storefront café’s and restaurants with ‘soul,’ didn’t follow the scores of people who made up the “new” Las Vegas. Richman mentioned that the loss of the traditional hotel “coffee shop” meant that locals who worked in the casinos no longer had a gathering place where they could congregate after work over a cup of coffee or a cold beer. The environs of the hotel coffee shop fostered a spirit of commraderie among the hotel staff that is merely a memory today. The “employee cafeteria” housed in today’s mega-resorts has replaced the coffee shop. Employees trudge through a buffet-style line, they hand a plastic card to an unemotional cashier and wander off to eat in silence. Mitchell Davis brought up the fact that today’s work schedules and lifestyles of the workforce don’t allow for families sitting down to a traditional Sunday Supper-a gathering of Aunts, Uncles, Mothers, Fathers, Sisters, Brothers and Cousins-all sharing in the bounty of a family meal. In Las Vegas, Mom may go to work at 10 p.m. while Dad and the kids are getting ready for bed. The best example of how far Las Vegas has to go before one can declare it a “great food city,” was provided by the one panel member most informed on the issue-John Curtas-one of the three members of the “West-Las Vegas” faction of the panel. As you may know, John is what could be called the bon vivant of Las Vegas dining. He reports daily on the Las Vegas dining scene at his website, ELV.com, gives weekly dining reports on KLAS-CBS, produces the “Food for Thought” weekly segment on KNPR-Radio, is one of the new judges on “Iron Chef America,” and is the Las Vegas representative of the James Beard Foundation. Aside from the jovial side of John’s gregarious personality is a depth of knowledge about food, cooking, service and dining that is quite literally unmatched by any other man or woman reporting on Las Vegas dining today. John proclaimed Vancouver, B.C., to be one of North America’s “greatest food cities.” (A city I’ve visited many times, and a great restaurant city to boot. Vancouver has it all so to speak, when it comes to food and dining). Graced with the natural beauty and attributes of its location, Vancouver defines a great food city. Located on the Northern coast of the Pacific Northwest, Vancouver is the home to a bounty of locally grown foods. Everything from Dungeness Crab, Pacific Oysters, Salmon of all species, wild game, hazelnuts, walnuts, raspberries, blackberries, gooseberries and acres of vineyards grow within steps of the city center of Vancouver. Adding to the natural harvest of Vancouver is a population that is truly a melting pot of cultures-Canadian, British, European and Asian. The population of Vancouver is made-up of nearly 70% immigrants. The immigrants have brought their culture, cuisine and food traditions to Vancouver which adds to the city’s richness as a mecca for food lovers and professional Chefs. Stroll through one of the streets of Chinatown in Vancouver and you’ll discover stalls selling all manner of live seafood, shellfish and unrecognizable creatures that you just know will end up in the evening’s hotpot. Vancouver’s Chinatown is just one small pocket of inspiration and a marketplace of deep flavors for the home cook and the restaurant chef alike-the perfect melting pot that defines a great food city and a great restaurant city. The comparison of Vancouver to Las Vegas-cities similar only in terms of population-are staggering. One a city born from the natural beauty and bounty of the Pacific Northwest, the other an oasis that arose literally overnight from a sun-scorched desert. One a city of immigrants who for generations have brought with them a cornucopia of cultures, traditions and cuisines-all of which have come together, in homes and in restaurants, to celebrate food and dining. The sort of love of food between a city and its residents that endures over time. The other, also a city of immigrants, yet a city still in its infancy. A city still searching for that sense of self, of tradition, and a rich history with food. Las Vegas seems to always be trying to re-invent itself, ever searching for the next trendy restaurant theme, the latest incarnation of lobster, foie gras and caviar. Sometimes it works, but often it never lasts. The experience, while satisfying at the moment, may not be memorable years later. (a metaphor that could be used to describe many of the “in-the-moment” pleasures of Las Vegas). It wasn’t until I returned home from Taste America that I realized how much of an impact the panel discussion would have on my own work as a Food Writer. And in another twist of fate, I realized that The Fireside Cookbook was much more than a cherished family heirloom that had taken the trip with me to Las Vegas. The Fireside Cookbook was the work that launched Beard into the national spotlight. Soon after it was published in 1949, Beard began a lengthy career writing about food and dining in magazines and newspapers across the country, including Gourmet, Harper’s Bazaar, Argosy, Apartment Life, House and Garden and The New York Times to name just a few. It was becoming clear to me that Beard’s impact reached much farther than his cookbooks and impressive personality-he was also one of the first Food Writers to have an impact on the tastes of America.

The two pastry chefs in Las Vegas that are currently getting the attention of the food writers are Vanessa Garcia at Restaurant Charlie at The Palazzo and Sarah Kosikowski at Michael Mina at Bellagio. I'd describe their desserts as creative twists on classics. The presentations are gorgeous, but not pretentious. Of course, you do have to build up to dessert at both restaurants with multiple courses of delicious cuisine focused on seafood.

Can you explain what you mean by this? Wynn, the owner of many hotels and resorts, used to own specifically the Picasso restaurant in the Bellagio? Who own's the Bellagio? I assume it's the same person that owns all the restaurants inside the resort. And the restaurant itself, is worth BILLIONS? ← Steve Wynn originally was responsible for building Bellagio. Mr. Wynn then sold Bellagio (that's worth billions) to MGM/Mirage. Since then, he has opened Wynn Resort and about two to three weeks ago, Encore Resort, where I'll be staying in a couple of weeks and trying to dine at all five Encore restaurants. I hope this helps. ← Thank you rj, you are of course right on with your response. The relationships in Las Vegas between the owners of the hotels-to the restaurants-to the restaurant staff-to the chef-can be quite complicated and difficult to follow. As rj mentioned, Steve Wynn developed and basically was the "owner" if you will of the Bellagio when it opened. He was responsible for bringing Chef Serrano to Picasso restaurant at Bellagio. When Mr. Wynn sold his stake in Bellagio to the MGM/Mirage corporation, Chef Serrano stayed on at Picasso. I get the sense that while they parted ways formally in terms of their business relationship at Bellagio-Mr. Wynn and Chef Serrano are still great friends. (As witnessed by my above photo post of Mr. Wynn, Chef Serrano and Jean-Luc Naret). I also have the sense that Mr. Wynn is quite proud of the fact that many of the Chefs that he has employed, both past and present, are the winners of Michelin stars.

Each individually is something. Together, I can only imagine. ← Yes, the conversations were quite lively-and as you can imagine, inquiring palates dissect every single detail- "Is that Thai basil?" "No, I don't think so." "It tastes sort of 'soapy' doesn't it?" "The pickled pork tongue has an interesting texture doesn't it?" "It reminds me of the taste and texture of beef heart." "See those tiny dried shrimp inside the dumplings?" "I pick up just a hint of five-spice." "Now tell me Chef, how do you make the spice mixture that you used to dust the tuna?" "And Chef, what kind of apple did you use in the salad under the soft-shell crab?" "Ahh, we use THREE kinds of apples-Granny Smith, Gala and....." (the third apple variety escapes me). Shaw, Curtas and Ross. It was wonderful.

Well--it was an event for the ages and one that we will definately have to repeat. As you can see from the photo above, I have the waistline that allows me the room for such gargantuan feasts. I was in such a state of gustatory pleasure I forgot my camera and journal of notes so I won't be posting much today. The camera and journal will be flying North soon and once they arrive back home, I'll add to some of Steven's delicious photos. I had no idea there were so many wonderful Asian restaurants scattered not far off the Strip. So just when you are thinking about blowing your cash on one of the over-priced Strip hotel dining rooms, call a cab to take you to one of the above restaurants we dined at. No doubt when you see menus with three turtle dishes, four eel dishes and pickled parts of pig, lamb, chicken and other creatures you know you are in for a dining adventure. (And the company of Curtas and Shaw was a rare treat).

I thought I would share some past photos of my Prime Rib. While I have been intrigued by all the cooking methods discussed here-I will probably bore you with how I prepare Prime Rib. My method for cooking Prime Rib is boring. It isn’t trendy in terms of current cooking fads. I don’t use any special equipment. I use a roasting pan that has a rack. No meat thermometer. I don’t sear the meat and then roast it. I don’t fool with the oven temperature-starting at a high temperature and then turning down the heat. I don’t slow-roast and then blast the meat at the end of cooking. Boring is my mantra. The recipe I employ uses these ingredients- Prime Rib Olive Oil Salt, Pepper and Cajun Seasoning Potatoes I rub the meat with olive oil and then sprinkle it with salt, pepper and whatever Cajun spice mixture I have on hand. My favorite seasoning is Paul Prudhomme’s “Steak Magic." I set the oven to 325 degrees. I put the roast on a rack in a roasting pan. I cook it for exactly 22 minutes per pound. That goes for a roast that is 4 pounds or a hefty beast like an 8 pounder-22 minutes per pound at 325. Always. The results, as you witness below, are medium-rare. The last hour and a half, (one hour isn’t enough time), the last hour and a half I put in some Russet potatoes that I’ve peeled and cut into large chunks. The potatoes have to be placed directly under the roast to catch all the beef drippings. After about an hour, I’ll stir the potatoes in the roasting pan so they get thoroughly coated on all sides with the beef fat. I let the roast rest for only 15 minutes once I’ve taken it out of the oven-wait longer than 15 minutes and the roast starts to get cold. I don't particularly care for cold Prime Rib on the "first cut." We'll have cold Prime Rib tommorrow. So as you can see, the number of ingredients is simple. The cooking technique, while calling for some precise indications, is simple. The results, in terms of taste, texture and pure deliciousness, are as complex as the most sumptuous haute cuisine you've ever tasted. A Prime Rib Roast for the incredibly low price of merely $14.99 per pound. From the old-fashioned butchers at Egger's Meats, Spokane, Washington. A thick layer of fat is essential so that it bastes the roast as it cooks-and drips glossy fat down on the potatoes. Good butcher shops respect a layer of fat on a Prime Rib. Do not, under any circumstances, cut the rib bones off the roast and then tie them back on. The bones add flavor, which is lost if you cut them off and then "tie" them back on the roast. The strings you see here are only used to bundle the roast together and to hold the fat cap in place. Now why would we want to fool with cooking this beauty any other way than plain, simple, oven-roasting? Out of the oven-a delicious, caramelized, crispy crust and a roast oozing juices. A thick slab of USDA Prime Beef and Crisp Potato Wedges roasted in beef fat. The gravy, made with pan juices and thickened with a bit of cream and accented with fresh herbs, is only window-dressing for fussy eaters who think Prime Rib should be coated in a sauce. I could care less about a sauce. Just give me the meat-it already has natural sauce. As the family is sleeping off dinner, the true Prime Rib Connoisseur will steal themselves into the kitchen and gnaw on the roasted bones of the roast-the most delicious part of a Prime Rib.

Here are the Brussels Sprouts I did at Thanksgiving-with Applewood Smoked Bacon and Chestnuts. I'm not a big fan of chestnuts, but I had a package in the freezer that was waiting to be included in some sort of holiday dish so they got put into the Brussels Sprouts. A lot of people turn up their noses at the thought of eating an entire Brussels Sprout, so I cut them lengthwise into strips like you would for coleslaw. The result is strips of the vegetable along with some bigger pieces. Texturally that is more appealing to some people and it cuts down on having a big mouthful of what some think is an acidic vegetable. I start by frying up bacon bits in a saute pan and then drain it, reserving all of the bacon grease. I then reheat some of the bacon grease in the same pan and add the sprouts and cook for just a few minutes until they wilt. Then I'll slog in some apple cider vinegar, then add in some chopped chestnuts and the pre-cooked bacon bits. I might add a bit of chicken stock if the mixture looks too dry, then season with salt, pepper and fresh thyme. This isn't going to be the stunning dish on the holiday table, but it's a fairly good take on Brussels Sprouts. Much better than boiling them whole and serving them plain like Mother used to do.

Looks like a pretty classic menu so I might suggest starting with a Shrimp Bisque-a different take on the "perfect shrimp" dish but one that is warm, satisfying and fits within your menu. And it's probably a surprise to a lot of guests these days to see soup served at a meal-harkens back to the days when soups were more a part of home menus. And shrimp bisque is delicious with champagne. I make a somewhat complicated recipe that involves cooking shrimp shells with vegetables, deglazing with brandy and then slow simmering with tomato paste and shrimp stock. There are a couple of stages of straining and a final thickening with butter and flour, but the results are worth it. If you don't want to go to all that trouble, Whole Foods usually sells shrimp bisque. You could garnish the soup with a poached shrimp and serve with buttered toast points and flutes of champagne.

I buy Chestnuts online from D'Artagnan. They're pre-cooked and ready to use. I checked the site today and they sell for $8.99 for a 7oz. bag + shipping costs. D'Artagnan will deliver the next day if you order before noon West Coast time. I used them in this dish for Thanksgiving-Brussels Sprouts with Applewood Smoked Bacon and Chestnuts.

Thanks. The Gaja wines were just on display. Poor side dishes can be the death of a great meal. At this level you wouldn't expect that would be the case. I suppose a similar example would be the cast of a top Broadway musical-the star of the show could shine, but if the supporting is cast is off one night, the audience notices and may not give the show a great review. I guess I'm just too particular about details.

Friday, October 24, 2008-“Friday Night Festival Dinners,” “Valentino” at The Venetian- The flight arrived at 2:30 p.m. PST time carrying a very important passenger. VIP travelers are a common sight in the terminals at McCarran International Airport. But on this autumn afternoon, one very precious, very rare VIP went unnoticed when it arrived-a small carton of fresh white truffles from the forests of Alba, Italy. In a few more hours, this expensive jewel box of white truffles would be paired with lobster, veal, crab, quail, pasta, bison and cheese in dishes that would grace our table at Valentino restaurant at The Venetian. But it wasn’t the first box of white truffles that had been delivered to Valentino that week. The first box of white truffles ordered by Chef Luciano Pellegrini had been delivered one day earlier-and the first shipment found a very different fate than the truffles that arrived a day later. Chef Pellegrini later told me that the first shipment of white truffles did not measure up to what he expected for our private dinner. Upon inspection of the first shipment, he immediately called Italy to place another order. (I suppose the first shipment ended up in the staff meal-maybe a risotto with white truffles, a white truffle pappardelle perhaps?). It was an expensive risk for the Chef to take-other than a phone call to Alba, there would be no guarantee that the second shipment of truffles would be up to Chef Pellegrini’s exacting standards. At the time our truffles were purchased in October, they were selling in the range of $3,200.00 for 8oz., or a mere $6,400.00 per pound. Imagine buying not one box, but two boxes of fresh white truffles at that price point. At those prices, a Chef can’t settle for anything but the best. While I can’t tell you for sure exactly how many truffles were showered over our dinner plates this evening-it tasted as though we had been served millions of dollars worth. The window for delivery for the second shipment of truffles had now dwindled to no more than a couple of hours-if the weather over the Atlantic was turbulent, the flight would be delayed and the second box would arrive too late for our dinner. Yet, as fate would have it, the white truffle hunters of Alba didn’t disappoint us and the second box of white truffles, glorious in their size and fragrant aroma, arrived to the welcoming hands of the Chefs and cooks at Valentino in time to prepare a delicious and memorable dinner. Valentino and “The Grill at Valentino” are located just past the casino floor at the entry hall to what is called “Restaurant Row” at the Venetian. The entrance to the restaurants is not flashy by Las Vegas standards-no wine angels hang from the rafters, there isn’t a waterfall spewing fire out front, and you won’t find a bevy of silky young ladies to entice you in. But an alluring entre’ is not necessary at a restaurant that is confident and talented. (And has the James Beard Awards to prove it). At Valentino, the allure is found in the food, not the front door. The more relaxed grill out front has a bar and small dining room that is open to the floods of people wandering to and fro-gamblers, tourists and the seemingly always rushing conventioneers-it is a relaxing oasis to sip a glass of Italian wine and tuck into a comfortable dish of pasta. As is my custom, I was the first guest to arrive. I was met by Mr. Carlo Cannuscio, the hospitable General Manager of Mr. Selvaggio’s Las Vegas operations. Our party of eleven guests included members from the James Beard Foundation in New York, public relations representatives from the Rosen Group of New York, two ladies representing the restaurants at The Venetian and The Palazzo, and Las Vegas Food Writer Al Mancini and his wife. Our first introduction to the white truffles came as we gathered in The Grill for “Aperitivi” served with flutes of ‘Louis de Sacy, Brut Rose.’ The unmistakable, earthy and erotic scent of the white truffle wafted through the room as the waiters entered with silver trays holding forth the following- -Mini Pizza al Tartufo -Fried Lobster Milanese with Spicy Aioli -Veal Tartar with Tartufo -Crostini with Quail Pate and Tartufo Nero I was visiting with some other guests when a waiter approached and asked us if we would like to try the “Crab Cakes.” We all looked a bit perplexed. The menu clearly said the seafood hors d’ouvre would be lobster; the crab would be served in the fish course at dinner. It didn’t taste like crab, it didn’t look like crab, and it was definitely lobster. A few moments later, the same waiter returned with another tray of what he called “Crab Cakes.” At this point, it was clear that the poor fellow didn’t have a clue as to what he was serving. When Chef Pellegrini came over to our group, he asked us how we liked the little bites. We discreetly mentioned to the Chef that the waiter had mistakenly called his lobster “crab cakes.” Chef was not at all pleased. He promptly called the waiter over, and in front of the guests asked, “what is that, exactly, that you are serving?” The man was oblivious to his mistake and proudly stated that he was serving “crab cakes.” The room became very quiet. Chef Pellegrini very firmly admonished the waiter, telling him to “go back into the kitchen and ask your Chef what, exactly, you are serving to your guests.” We apologized for tattling on the waiter, but the Chef was pleased we had done so. “He has had this mistake before” Chef replied, “He is in need of a new passion!” After being dressed down by the Chef, the disgraced sap quickly turned and took his tray back to the kitchen. We never saw him again that evening. After admonishing the waiter, we turned to a more pleasant topic-the arrival of the white truffles earlier in the day and our dinner to come. Sr. Cannuscio ushered us through the main dining room into one of the private rooms at Valentino that would be our home for the evening. The walls of the dining room were lined with vintage bottles of wines held in safe-keeping for preferred customers. I would imagine that Mr. Beard would have loved this room-the host of the repast sitting at the head of the long table, drinking wine and sharing thoughts on the rapture of the white truffle with his special guests. Classic preparations for the evening’s wine services- The wines were masterfully paired to Chef Pellegrini’s cuisine-and the idiosyncrasies of the white truffles. (Pairing a prime grade strip loin is a far easier task than pairing wines that will enhance, yet not overpower, the white truffle). I asked the Wine Director how he approached the obstacles presented by pairing the wines with Chef Pellegrini’s dishes. “I will build the aroma and flavor notes of the wines throughout the menu with the aromas of the white truffles.” For someone who is just beginning to appreciate how wine can enhance foods, it was a prophetic statement. Rather than focus first on the the flavor notes in the wines, his first objective was to focus on the bouquet of wines that would accent the aromas of the truffles. It was a grand success and the best wine pairings I’ve had in Las Vegas. The first course, ‘Fresh Australian “Spanner” Crab Cakes with Porcini Salad and White Truffle’ accompanied by ‘Clerget, Les Chevalier, Meursault, 2000’- The Australian Spanner Crab, also called the “mud crab” down under, has a thick body and large front claws. The meat is tender, soft and mild in flavor-not as sweet as the Dungeness crabs that I am used to in the Pacific Northwest. The shell of the Spanner Crab is incredibly hard and it takes special equipment at the cannery in Australia to crack the shell and extract the meat. As such, only the meat of the crab is shipped to the restaurant trade in America. (A very small trade in fact). Chef Pellegrini said that Valentino is one of only two restaurants in the country that import Australian Spanner Crab meat. The crab stood up to the bold flavor of the truffles and the hearty texture of the porcini. The salad was simply dressed with olive oil, lemon juice and a scattering of roasted garlic and shreds of fresh sage. The second course, ‘Quail Meatloaf on Polenta and White Truffle,’ accompanied by ‘Bergstrom, Cumberland Reserve, Willamette Valley Pinot Noir, 2006’- The Quail “Meatloaf” was more of a warmed, country-style terrine with chunks of deliciously tender quail meat studded throughout the ground meat mixture. The meatloaf was blanketed with a sauce of reduced stock and covered with more white truffles than any one person should eat in a lifetime. But my gracious comments about the food at Valentino up to this point must be tempered with some criticism for polenta. It was cold, sticky and gummy. Polenta served in this type of dish should be thick and piping hot, flowing like hot lava yet with enough structure to hold up the meat at the center of the dish. It should be thin enough in texture so that it soaks up the luscious sauce-and it absolutely should not be stone cold-certainly not at a private dinner of friends of James Beard. I recently ranted to a friend of mine who is a prominent Las Vegas Food Writer about the cold polenta-and even colder, gummier, risotto-that I’ve been served this year at private dinners at top restaurants in town. Attention must be paid to the details of technique in these popular, yet tricky side dishes. As a native Oregonian and lifelong resident of the Pacific Northwest, I was pleased that the Wine Director paired an Oregon Pinot Noir with the quail in homage to Mr. Beard. Mr. Beard lived long enough to see vineyards planted in the Willamette Valley in Western Oregon. Years later, I think he would be proud that the wine industry is one of Oregon’s largest agricultural commodities. Oregon Pinot Noir’s have won prestigious awards against fine French vintages-and have found their way to the tables of Las Vegas. I can cast away the sins of the polenta in this course because the main focus of the dish, the quail, was delicious. The pasta course, ‘Fontina Stuffed Bucatini with Crescenza Sauce and White Truffle’ accompanied by ‘Beni di Batasiolo, Riserva, Barolo, 2000’- The Chefs had obviously taken great care and a lot of time hand-crafting the long hollow tubes of bucatini pasta-a combination of tomato, traditional and spinach pastas. This was a tricky dish. Both fontina and crescenza cheeses have a strong, almost bitter flavor. We wondered if Chef Pellegrini had pushed the flavors too far. But once again, the cheese, used in just the right amounts, didn’t overpower the white truffles. It was a masterfully crafted dish and was raised to the upper echelons of pasta creations by, of course, the white truffles. The meat course, ‘Buffalo Medallion with White Wine Demi-Glace and White Truffle’ accompanied by ‘Leone di Castris “Donna Lisa” Salice Salentino, 1995’- Chef Pellegrini procured the buffalo tenderloin from the ranch in North Dakota. It was incredibly tender and slightly sweet with no hint of gaminess. Swirling white wine into the demi-glace gave the sauce a complimentary flavor to the delicate buffalo. (I think a red-wine based demi-glace would have been too heavy for the meat and truffles). It was interesting watching the faces of the diners from New York who hadn’t ventured far enough West to have ever tasted buffalo. We all proclaimed it delicious. The red cabbage to the side of the plate was, sadly, akin to the polenta served with the quail-cold, soft, limp in texture and lacking in the characteristic sweet and sour flavors of this winter vegetable side dish. A small detail, but a detraction no less. The last two courses would be prove, at least in the eyes of the guests, to present the greatest challenge to Chef Pellegrini and the Wine Director-a cheese course with white truffles and dessert paired with white truffles. The cheese course, ‘Cheese Three Ways, Hot, Cold and Crispy with Dried Fruit and Nuts’ accompanied by ‘Schlumberger, Vendanges Tardives, “Cuvee Christine” Gewurztraminer, Alsace, 2000’- By this point in the dinner, I was much more involved in dining, drinking and conversation than I was writing down the specific cheeses in this dish and how they were prepared. I do know that the “crispy” element came in the form of a parmesan crisp. The white truffles were combined with fresh cheese in a form of gelato. I would call it an acquired taste-creamy and sweet yet with a strong, musty aroma and bittersweet taste. It was good, but probably not a dish I would order off a regular dessert menu. The final course, dessert, ‘White Chocolate and Gianduja Truffle with Candied Asparagus, Sautéed Sugar Pumpkin and Orange Zabayon’ accompanied by ‘Ben Rye, Passito di Pantelleria, 2006’- The ‘truffle’ element of the dish was in fact a play on words. We had enjoyed white ‘truffles’ throughout dinner, yet in the dessert course the ‘truffle’ spoke to the sweet focal element of the dish. As you can see from the photo, this wasn’t the small chocolate truffles one is familiar with. This ‘truffle’ was a big as a Christmas tree ornament-a shell of white chocolate holding a plush mousse of Gianduja, (hazelnut and almond pastes mixed with chocolate). The truffle was sitting on top of a crisp chocolate cookie. The candied asparagus was an afterthought-apparently intended to add something to the truffle-that only served as a distraction. It was a concept best left in the kitchen for another dish. And while a bit more successful than the asparagus in terms of flavor, the sautéed sugar pumpkin wasn’t necessary-another small distraction in an otherwise delicious ending to dinner. The ‘Passito di Pantelleria’ was my favorite wine of the evening-it reminded me of the ice wines from British Columbia. The Wine Director said that the vines actually fall to the ground with the grapes still on them. The grapes dry on the vines, concentrating the sugars which results in a thick, almost syrupy wine with aromas of citrus. I had never tasted white truffles prior to dinner at Valentino. I have had the pleasure of tasting black truffles, and while they are certainly one of the most delicious of foods, the black truffle cannot compare to his more sophisticated cousin the white truffle. During dinner, we went around the table and each guest described what the white truffle tasted like. I said the “white truffle is sexy and alluring while the black truffle is bold and heady.” Indeed. I now admit that I am in love-the taste memories of the evening will stay with me forever. The feast of the white truffle was over and the smiles on the faces of the guests pleased Chef Pellegrini and his staff to no end. Mr. Beard had an affinity for truffles decades before most Americans even knew what they were. In “The New James Beard,” cookbook, Knopf-1981, in his recipe for “Risotto with White Truffles,” Beard instructed the cook to “Garnish the top of the cooked risotto with thin shavings of fresh white truffles.” In a voice only Beard could lend to the written word, he went on to say that white truffles “are in season late in the year and are madly expensive, but worth the splurge.” Going back as far as 1949, Beard was teaching America about unique and unheard of ingredients. In the “Fireside Cookbook,” Simon and Schuster, Mr. Beard wrote in part that “A white truffle from Italy has a distinct garlic odor.” As my story unfolds over the course of the next two days, my relationship with Mr. Beard, celebrating American Cuisine and The Fireside Cookbook would come full circle.

Hi Kim-I use a version of what is termed "Beurre Monte"-basically butter mixed with a small amount of water at a low temperature. In very non-scientific terms, the water keeps the butter from separating. If you happen to have the French Laundry cookbook the process is described on page 135. You simply need a saucepan, butter, water and your chosen seafood. My recipe below calls for Prawns, but I've done the recipe with lobster, scallops and Dungeness crab in the shell. When I've done it with lobster I used lobster tails. I bought the tails frozen and let them thaw. Sometimes I remove the raw meat and cut it into chunks before butter-poaching. Other times I've just cut the tail into large chunks, leaving the meat in the shell. The results are fabulous-very tender meat with a buttery coating. And don't throw out the butter poaching liquid. You've just created a buttery seafood stock that you can use in all sorts of other dishes-or save it to poach another day! Prawns 8 large prawns, shelled, tails left on 1 stick unsalted butter 1 tbsp. water Heat the water over medium heat until it begins to simmer. Add the butter and move the pan in a circular motion to incorporate. Add the prawns and poach just until tender, about 4-5 minutes, again moving the pan in a circular motion.

Prelude- “Was it the White Truffles Chef Pellegrini asked?” “Yes Chef, it was the white truffles, but that’s merely part of the reason why I’ll be dining with you at Valentino on Friday night.” “Owing to the fact that you are a James Beard Award-Winning Chef-and our dinner is in celebration of the Beard Foundation-and given the impressive reputation of Mr. Selvaggio, I am honored and humbled to have the opportunity to join you for a private dinner at Valentino at The Venetian.” Now you don’t honestly believe that I was that suave in my reply to the Chef’s ominous question do you? I wasn’t’ at all suave. The reality of the moment is that I was tongue-tied, my palms were sweaty and my hand melted when it met the rigid grip of Chef Luciano Pellegrini’s strong hands. Adding to the scene of the nervous, lip-twitching Food Writer was the fact that Piero Selvaggio, (owner of Valentino restaurant and a James Beard Award-Winning Restaurateur in his own right), was standing just to my right. Yet the Italians have a certain relaxed aura which helped my nerves fade away. I could have fumbled my words terribly and said something like-“um, Chef, I know you are famous for cooking spaghetti and I knew you won some awards so I thought your dinner would taste great”-and Chef Pellegrini and Mr. Selvaggio would have still been composed and gracious. The occasion for my meeting Chef Pellegrini and Mr. Selvaggio came at a reception at the Wynn hotel sponsored by the Michelin Guide. (Lady luck was on my side and I snared an invitation from a friend who lives in Las Vegas). It was a monumental week for the Las Vegas restaurant community-the “Rising Star Revue” sponsored by Star Chefs was held on Tuesday, October 21, followed by the Michelin reception on Wednesday, October 22, followed by the Taste America Events beginning on Friday, October 24. And so the stage was set, (and I can thank the white truffle hunters of Alba, Italy, for breaking the ice), for three days of dining, imbibing and spirited conversation in celebration of James Beard and the efforts of the Beard Foundation. Next-A "White Truffle Dinner" at Valentino........

The Northwest-themed Thanksgiving turned out pretty well. Below are some photos of the finished dishes along with a few comments- -Smoked Pacific Turbot, Smoked Sea Scallops, Flying Fish Roe, Olive Oil, Lemon, Radish Sprouts. The Turbot and Scallops were from Gerard Dominique's Seafood of Woodinville, Washington. -Apple, Pear, Parsnip Salad with Bleu Cheese, Toasted Hazelnuts and Apple Cider Vinaigrette. The apples and pears were from Washington, the bleu cheese and hazelnuts from Oregon. -Roast Turkey with Cranberry-Gooseberry Relish. Darn turkeys today don't have enough fat. I have a heck of a time getting a good pool of turkey drippings in the roasting pan. Seems like my Mother used to get all kinds of dripping fat out of her turkeys. Makes it hard to get a good gravy going. (That's a whole appled stuffed into the turkey). I was originally going to add apple cider to the cranberry sauce, but I remembered this huge bag of frozen gooseberries I had in the freezer. I bought them this Summer at Bauman Farms of Salem, Oregon. We should all use more gooseberries-they are tart and fragrant-unlike any other little fruit. -Brussels Sprouts with Applewood Smoked Bacon and Chestnuts. I'm not a big fan of chestnuts. I don't think they have much flavor and they tend to get soft during cooking. Next time I'll try a harder nut like a hazelnut, but the chestnuts do seem to say the "Holidays" when they appear on the table. -Sausage "Dressing" with Currants and Pecans. I put the word "dressing" in quotes because I don't "stuff" my turkeys. For some reason as a kid I developed a distaste for stuffing that mixed with the inner juices of the turkey. This dressing was too moist-I put too much stock into it. I'll need to tamper with the recipe again during the holidays-I'll leave out the currants and pecans and I need to chop the celery and onion into bigger pieces. I cut corners to save time and processed the celery and onion in the food processor-bad move because I let the pieces get chopped too finely. When the dressing was cooked, you couldn't taste nice bits of crunchy celery and onion. -Mashed Potatoes. I always use huge Washington "Baker's" (Russets) when I make mashed potatoes. I use an old fashioned ricer to mash the potatoes and add lots of butter, milk and cream. -The Thanksgiving Dinner plate. -Northwest Cheeses with Fruit and Nut Crostini and Blackberry Honeycomb. The cheeses came from Oregon and Washington-Crater Lake Bleu (OR), Tillamook Dairy Cheddar (OR), and Trailhead Tomme from Mt. Townsend Creamery (WA). The Biscotti is from Anjou Baker of Cashmere, Washington and the Honeycomb from Bauman Farms of Salem, Oregon. I love cheese plates at restaurants but had never done one at home. I sure will again-this was the highlight of dinner. I was skeptical of the honeycomb and wasn't sure how to eat it. Visiting various websites didn't give any definitive answers-so I just slurped the raw honey out of the honeycomb. It was delicious-a bite of soft cheese on a crunchy biscuit then finished with this sweet blackberry honey. -Mince Pie with Rum Whipped Cream. The pie was from Cyrus O'Leary's bakery of Spokane. It was very good, but not "traditional" mince pie. Mince pies today are a mix of fruits to satisfy today's softer tastes. The traditional pies were of course called "Mincemeat" because they included meat into the mixture, very often game meat. For you mince pie aficianados, I'll be sharing a photo of a traditional mince pie later during the Holidays. I have some true mincemeat (with Venison), in the freezer. I made a big batch last year and it's been frozen in booze ever since. In a couple of weeks I'll bring it out and make a pie. -Apple Pie with Pumpkin Ice Cream. I used organic "Pinova" apples from the Yakima Valley area in Central Washington. The Pumpkin Ice Cream is from Tillamook Dairy in Tillamook, Oregon-the same dairy where the cheddar came from. I had read a piece in The Oregonian newspaper that the Pinova was the top scoring apple in their testing of baking apples. They liked the pure apple taste and the fact that when the apples are sliced they hold their shape during cooking. I put the newspaper to the test and found them absolutely right-the Pinova's performed beautifully during 50 minutes baking in the crust at 400 degrees. More importantly, they have a delicious apple flavor-not too tart, not too sweet. I hope you notice the flakiness of the pie crust-it was a big success. I use a mixture of Crisco and butter along with sugar, flour and cake flour. When I add the ice water to soften the dough I sprinkle in about a tablespoon of apple cider vinegar. On to Christmas dinner!

I just have to say "how delicious!" Thanks for sharing. And keep sharing photos of furry little creatures ready for the pot. Wonderful.

I recently modified my recipe and found the results even better than the above. I changed the apple variety from Granny Smith to Pinova. The Pinova seems to be less tart than the Granny Smith and needs less sugar. It also holds it's shape better than the Granny Smith. Instead of laying the apples halves down lengthwise per the above photo, I stacked them on end. It gave the Tatin more height and filled the skillet with more apples. I added about 1 tablespoon of corn syrup to the butter and sugar mixture to help in the caramelization of the apples. In my previous recipe I called for a non-stick skillet. This time I went back to the old tried and true black, cast iron, 3" deep skillet. Worked like a charm with no problems turning the Tatin out of the skillet. Sorry, didn't get any photos this time around, but that only means I'll have to bake another Tatin just to show off. I want a slice of Mr. Hatfield's Tatin. Looks delicious.

The last plan was for Chef Theo Schoenegger to open "Theo's," an Italian cuisine restaurant at Encroe. That was the plan up until about two weeks ago. Now the plan is for Theo to be the Chef at Sinatra. That's the latest plan. Hopefully Mr. Wynn won't micro-manage the arrangement and it will be a succesful venture for both the hotel and the Chef.

As we speak, I am holding two very precious Christmas gifts on my kitchen counter-two "Great Northern Fruitcakes" that are vintage 2006. The little jewels have been wrapped in brandy-soaked cheesecloth for three years. I have lovingly doused them with a shower of brandy every three months during their slumber in the pantry. And in just a few more weeks I will wake them from their liquor infused dreams and we'll eat them for Christmas. These are photos of their cousin, Fruitcake 2005, which we ate last year: I use a recipe, (posted in the link below), that was created by the bakers of the Great Northern Railrod company. In a bygone era, Fruitcake regularly appeared on holiday menus on Great Northern passenger trains like the "Empire Builder" and the "North Coast Limited." But the days of grand dining aboard regularly scheduled passenger trains is all but gone, replaced with passable Amtrak diners that do not serve fruitcake. I suspect those of you who are reading these pages join me as a lover of this delicious, (often-derided), little bundle of fruit, nuts and cake. You may be interested in reading a piece I once wrote about fruitcake: http://www.themediadrome.com/content/artic...s/fruitcake.htm I'd love to see photos of your fruitcakes.

Thank you, that helps me a bit. I'd say a touch of a liver taste, along with the flavors of grass and herbs, a bit more sweet than salty, and bordering on "gamy." I think it's an acquired taste. But for me, not really worth the extra cost. The hamburger I bought was $12.99 a pound.