Baggy

I'd say that you were the perfect combination of imperfections. I'd say that your nose was just a little too short, your mouth just a little too wide. But yours was a face that a man could see in his dreams for the whole of his life. (Kind Hearts &Coronets 1949) It would be true to say that I have been giving a lot of thought to our experience at the FD. I looked again at the tasting menu and the previous posts; there is nothing new I could add to the descriptions already given. I considered a review in the style of elBulli (so avoiding having to say anything about the food), relaying the bizarre taxi journey from the station, cutting underground through office car parks to escape the one-way system of Maidenhead. And flying across the flood plains of the Thames past rugby clubs, golf ranges and all kinds of leisure activities to arrive at the calm and tranquillity of Bray and the FD. I was pleased to find that the cold weather had been taken into account, and the napkins had been wrapped into cylinders, hand muff-style. However, given the coolness outside, I did wonder if there was a plot to keep me wrapped in my coat as freezing vapours of liquid nitrogen and dry ice settled across the table, and like the mists of the Oak Moss & Truffle Toast, settled uncomfortably in a low hollow (otherwise known as my lap). Also, I have wondered if there is some deep meaning behind the reappearance of such a definitive taste as oyster in the menu (in Oysters, Passion Fruit Jelly and again in the Sound of the Sea). And beetroot (in Beetroot & Orange Jelly, and the tuile in the Mango & Douglas Fir Purée). Earl Grey tea appearing, if not starring in the Hot & Iced Tea (an experience not dissimilar to going to the dentist), and again shortly afterwards as Tea Jelly in the Nitro-scrambled Egg & Bacon Ice Cream dish. But then I’m probably judging with a more classic menu structure in my head. And the playful Beetroot & Orange Jelly, Parsnip Cereal, or Whisk(e)y Wine Gums which, compared with the surrounding dishes, seemed one-dimensional and rather poor jokes that don’t stand repetition. It would be pedantic to pick out minor details such as the oversalted Red Cabbage Gazpacho, or the overcooked, watery Salmon Poached in Liquorice (my companion diner’s portion was fine – I tried it), the hint of burned dough in Mrs Marshall’s Margaret Cornet, or the one-dimensional vegetal taste of the Snail Porridge (a dish that went straight onto my list of favourites after I tasted the complexity and depth of flavours when I tried this from the recipe Or the strangely balanced Jelly of Quail dish, where the Parfait of Foie Gras was so rich as to overwhelm all the other flavours. Or the micro-garnishes, which on occasion were so small as to defy tasting, like the fig tuile mounted like a mini satellite receiver on the quenelle of foie gras in the same dish. But I’m sure someone will tell me why the Quail Jelly/Oak Moss & Truffle Toast is a homage to Alain Chapel. Do you think he would fully appreciate the Oak Moss film sticking to the roof of his mouth? And I’m certain it would be churlish to pick on the service; the refusal, polite, but a clear refusal, to slow down the service, the glasses removed before we had finished our wine, or even the mistake on the bill (charged for a glass of wine, but offset by no charge for the extra cheese course). We greatly enjoyed our experience. Lots to talk about; a true gastronomic treat. It was also fun. Putting the Sound of the Sea seashells to our ears gave a rather different impression from the gulls on the iPod – more like Barry Manilow trapped in a barrel. A truly surreal result. Now I’m not someone who is easily surprised, and having tried about a third of the tasting menu dishes from published recipes I was, perhaps, too attuned to find the dishes novel. But I didn’t expect to enjoy the Salmon Poached in Liquorice (which I did), or the Sound of the Sea, which having eaten the pebble (oyster) transformed the dish from rather tasteless elements into a very fine salad of seaweed. The cherry sauce with the Roast Foie Gras was exquisite, and the Ballotine of Anjou Pigeon was rich and succulent. However, I accuse my taste buds of letting me down when it came to the sweet courses. I have a strange dislike of lychees (but not enough to ask for a substitute dish). And when combined with the white rectangular Douglas Fir Purée Bavarois, it prompted me to imagine I was eating a toilet block, not helped by the previous dish, Pine Sherbet Fountain, which for the world looked like a miniature toilet brush (and with the same disinfectant smell). I did, however, enjoy the Blackcurrant Sorbet – not that it seemed connected to the other flavours in the dish. But the petits fours just didn’t work for me; blue coloured, liquid Violet Tartlet – sour, but not refreshing; Mandarin Aerated Chocolate – dry, tasteless cardboard; Carrot & Orange Lolly – too thin to have taste. At least the Apple Pie Caramel “Edible Wrapper” tasted of something – caramel, although I missed the point of having an edible wrapper; it just delayed the flavour appearing. Perhaps, I missed the point. Has this changed my view of restaurants? Absolutely. It crystallised the thought that taste comes first in my priorities; concepts, last. Time for Breakfast. Parsnip Cereal, Nitro-scrambled Egg & Bacon Ice Cream, Whisk(e)y Wine Gums??? Was the experience worthwhile? Absolutely. There has been little else on my mind for the past two weeks since going to the FD. Not helped by preparing HB’s In Search of Perfection trifle for Christmas lunch (complex but very rich; not a dissimilar flavour profile to the Nitro-scrambled Egg & Bacon Ice Cream , Pain Perdu & Tea Jelly dish), and wanting to try the risotto (but not having the time). Next time, I’m going ALC for the Lasagne of Langoustine and the Sole Véronique (a dish that mystifies me as to why it’s on so many top restaurant menus). And Mr Business Manager of the FD, if you’re reading this (which, as a good marketing person I’m sure you are), how are you going to get a better financial return? Too many dishes, requiring so many staff to maintain a reasonable standard. Everything timed and structured like cabin service. And everyone always seems to leave late – when we left, we weren’t hurried out, but the linen was being ironed on the tables which, I guess, is the upmarket equivalent of putting the chairs on the tables. Aren’t there some new business opportunities. I really like the FD branding, but I don’t particularly want a paper carrier bag. I would like a coffee mug with the FD logo, though. And as a pointless fact, Star Wars has made more than a USD 1 billion from merchandising, far more than the film revenue – can’t you make a go of it as well?

Had lunch at the FD yesterday and got back in time to see the Christmas special – just like eating lunch all over again. I’ll put some thoughts together on our visit in the next day or so.

Point 1. I hate putting myself in the hands of a sommelier – it assumes I know what I want, what to expect and how much to pay; and besides does he/she and I really have the same taste? I would rather go with a (somewhat) informed choice. Point 2. Unexpected because I didn’t arrange it, but I would have if I had thought about it…

An unexpected pleasure, but I’m off to the FD tomorrow – my first time. Even though I have followed the menus and tried making a number of the dishes, I feel very unprepared; like going into an exam. Creepy! I shall try to resist the temptation to spend my entire meal writing notes and try to concentrate on the food. We shall probably have the tasting menu, but really can’t be bothered with the fast changing tastes of the matching wines. I prefer to have consistency as a foil for the flavours of the dish (although I might have a change for the salmon in liquorice). We prefer red, generally French and nothing fruity. Any suggestions as to what we should try?

Thanks for the thought. I agree that the economic/convenience argument for not folding napkins is pretty strong, but taste and context do vary. I take it that the bishop’s hat fold might be appropriate for a 70’s theme night? Are there any others that are particularly associated with the time period? Or other time periods? And for a children’s party, I quite liked the idea of flying saucer napkins or a space creature fold. My particular and immediate need is to dress a table for a group of wonderful theatricals who (unknowingly) are going to be subjected to the surreal experience of the alchemy of the ‘molecular gastronomy’ chefs, and I thought that something slightly more interesting than a plain folded napkin could add to the experience along with some unusual tableware? Do you know of any napkin folding books that have quirky, unusual ideas?

I’m bumping this thread just to see if there are any thoughts over the past few days…I have a book to buy.

Excuse me…and 0.25 of a US teaspoon = 1.43 grams which, I think, demonstrates why I’m so confused…

Great! Thanks. That makes: 0.0625 UK teaspoons = 0.36 grams 0.0867 US teaspoons = 0.49 grams 0.001302 US cups = 0.71 grams Oh! And 1/16th of a US teaspoon = 0.36 grams (or 0.375 grams if using the USDA database) Am I looking at the wrong measure? I tried a thumb and first finger = 0.2 grams, but now I’m trying to compare recipes for taste and need to find some better yardstick. Are there any other measures I can try? PS How do I get rid of these stupid auto hyperlinks that attach themselves to the text and have no relevance to anything except an advert to Amazon?

Somebody must know! But how is a pinch of salt administered? Delicately between the thumb and first finger? Or perhaps a ‘peck’ using the thumb and all the fingers? If there’s an answer please tell me.

I stand corrected. Would prolonged exposure to low levels of acidity cause some breakdown derivatives that then brown?

Please don’t think this is out of turn, but could it be a problem with the oven thermostat or the thermometer? I find that both my oven and (less expensive) digital thermometers drift over a period of months. Just a thought.

Having been given a Thermomix (a present 18 months ago; the newer model), I find it really useful for chopping (strong & efficient, so I don’t worry about breaking the blades when reducing croquant to a powder) and use the heat/mix capability for sauces (Hollandaise, crème anglaise etc). I never use the steaming basket or weighing scales, and only occasionally use the reverse mixer (but never for making doughs). It’s a neat machine, and is great when making up small quantities of sauces etc., where the speed and heating function really come into their own. What I don’t like are the scales – too sensitive; accidentally touch the top of the flask and the scales zero themselves. Also for the quantities I typically use, the scales are only +/- 10g and this is not precise enough for me. I also don’t appreciate that temperature control is push-button to the nearest pre-set 10C – means I can’t accurately take a crème anglaise to 82C. I looked at the Barbel at the Restaurant Show a couple of weeks ago and it seems as solidly built as the Thermomix. It doesn’t have the weighing scales, but does have an insulated flask (which could be good for some uses). I do like the variable temperature control on the Barbel, although without testing the machine I can’t say how easy it is to set the temperature precisely – neither the Thermomix nor the Barbel have a digital temperature readout. To clean the blades the Barbel has a wing nut on the base, whereas the Thermomix has a quick twist of the base and it comes apart. I don’t know which would be best in the long run. I find the most boring thing is having to clean the machine so many times when making up a menu – I guess this would only be solved by getting another machine! I believe the price of the Barbel is in the same range as the Thermomix – although I saw it in Pages in Shaftesbury Avenue chained up like a mad dog for £990 excl VAT. The price may not be absolutely correct, but this is a heavy additional markup. I would recommend either Thermomix or Barbel is you do a lot of sauces or patisserie – otherwise save your money and get a water bath (which I find much more useful). You might try Italy for Thermomix – I think read somewhere that they are very popular.

I came across the book Luigi’s Language of Napkin Folding (Luigi Spotorno) and was thinking if buying it – until I looked it up on Amazon to discover there are 47 alternative titles. Please recommend a favourite and give me some pointers as to the folds you particularly like?

Depends how much liqueur you add – but in any case the sugar will make the crust more tender.

Having now made a number of different types of pastry using this approach I can see that it has some potential. In a pastry that is already tender and crumbly, substituting vodka for water reduces the finished result to a fragile object that has to be treated with the reverence of an archaeological relic – it works better with a pastry that is naturally tough (like a lining pastry). On the downside, all the cases I made cracked overnight suggesting that a vodka-lubricated pastry is best used immediately. Secondly (and here it’s going to depend on your local fiscal environment), it doubles the cost of ingredients! I like the idea but I wonder how the approach can be used creatively. Are there some other ideas I could try?

Any thoughts on the first programme of the new series? Not that I'm a great fan of chicken tikka masla I thought the triangle of stacked bricks surrounded by BBQ charcoal to create a tandoor oven was inspired…

Although Paris is a compact city, the area of Les Halles/Librairie Gourmande is not easily within walking distance – a cab journey should take no more than 15 minutes or use the Métro Ligne 1 to get directly from Charles de Gaulle-Etoile or George V (close to the end of rue Balzac on the Champs-Elysées) to Châtelet. Should take less than 20 minutes. MORA and Librairie Gourmande have maps on their web sites

Librairie Gourmande Open Mondays. A few minutes walk north from les Halles. And if you walk, you can pass by the equipment shops of Dehillerin, A Simon, MORA and others.

I’ll put a good word in for Dougal – low sodium salt works very well as a replacement for table salt in bread. I have made tens and tens of loaves (actually nearer 200 over the past few years) using a direct substitution of either low sodium or sodium free salts for ordinary salt, typically in tinned loaves in a bread maker. Bread maker recipes often have a lower level of salt than conventional bread (around 1% salt rather than the traditional 2%). This helps to give the loaf volume in a rapid baking cycle, and with a tinned loaf there are fewer issues with the dough being a little on the weak side. Replacing the salt with potassium chloride produces a result that is indistinguishable from a ‘salt’ recipe. Taking a close look at the recipes could show that some are significantly lower in salt than others (which will help), and for the others, reducing the salt to 1% by weight of the flour will make little difference producing a good loaf (just proof the bread for a slightly shorter time as the yeast will be more active; just add half the level of salt shown in the recipe and reduce the length of proofing by 15 minutes). On the other hand I don’t recommend you try increasing low sodium salt to 2%. Whilst the loaf volume is just as great (the potassium salt does not seem to retard yeast activity in the same way that ordinary salt does), the taste becomes a little metallic. With low sodium salt I would also steer away from simple breads such as a baguette where the flavour comes exclusively from the flour as the taste can be affected (not in a major way, but if you’re that much of a purist, you’ll notice the difference straight away). I would also take a look at trying different brands of low sodium salt. Some have reduced sodium and others have no sodium, so you might try making up your favourite loaf with two or three different types and see which is preferred. Without using salt substitutes (though you might try both strategies), the other approach that might help is to add other flours or toppings to a reduced salt white bread. White bread can be quite tasteless – a result accentuated by reducing the salt. Rather than using fats or butter to add taste, try adding a bit of wholemeal (whole wheat) or fine ground rye flour. Just adding 5% to the weight of flour will make a big difference in taste without producing a dark or heavy loaf. Adding toppings, such as seeds, also can add flavour without needing to use extra salt or fat.

Sounds like using vodka in batter for fish and chips published last year by Heston Blumenthal in his TV series In Search of Perfection. I’ve not tried vodka in pie crust, but with batter it does give a crisper finish. The only issue is that it tends to make the fish go mushy – can’t imagine that would be a problem with a pie. I can see that adding liquor would reduce the amount of gluten and help the crust to be less tough. I generally make up French style pastry (using warm butter to make a paste) and never have any problems in getting a very short crust. Otherwise I use ‘00’ Italian flour which has very low protein levels.

I had missed the BBC Food recipe for Snail Porridge – I used the one published in the Guardian. The two recipes are very similar (HB also publishes the link on the FD site). adey73 – are you willing to share your new found methylcellulose knowledge? On another subject, I’m intrigued to hear why Sole Véronique appears on the ALC menu. It seems to be a dish that makes its appearance on the menus of many of the leading chefs at one time or another. I can appreciate the delicate flavours, but think that sole might be a bit overrated in terms of flavour. What does HB do to make it a top class dish?

ameiden, Gabe Quiros – thanks for the confirmation. I had spotted the pea purée; but no time to stock up on radishes. And thanks for solving the mystery of the wafer – the fig tuile will appear next time. I would love to have had the theatre of swirling mists associated with the Oak Moss dish, but as is my experience with trying recipes from the avant-garde chefs, it is difficult to track down the ingredients/equipment. It seems to take an inordinate amount of time researching the often sketchy detail when a dish first appears and it only becomes practical to try the dishes once the techniques and ingredients become more widely available – usually 2-3 years after the dish is first created. I followed the recipe for quail jelly given in Caterer, using the deep fry and blend technique given in the Guardian, and whilst the final dish was a wonderful combination of complementary flavours, I was disappointed at the way the star anise flavour comes through. Perhaps I’m overly sensitive to this very distinctive flavour, but next time I’ll try using tomato to add the umami effect. Not having first hand experience of the real thing, I plated the dish as quail jelly with a teaspoon of pea purée, followed by foie gras and partially covered with langoustine mousse (served from a cream whipper). However, I can see why the mousse needs a touch of xanthan gum, as it broke down quickly. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to research this beforehand. On the other hand, the snail porridge was a resounding success and I will definitely be trying a number of versions before settling on one for my standard repertoire. Other dishes, in particular the Beetroot and Orange jelly, and Parsnip Cereal are wonderful surprises but like many jokes, can’t be repeated too often and don’t sem to have the flavour profile to make them a ‘standard’. I do wonder if the orange jelly idea could be developed further in the same way as a sorbet is used as an intermezzo. Thanks again for the help. Next time I’ll ask earlier so I can incorporate everything.

I’m putting together a Fat Duck (homage) menu for a dinner party Sunday and having made the elements of Quail Jelly, Cream of Langoustine, Parfait of Foie Gras, I just realised that I have assumed that this is a cold dish. Is this right? Not having had the benefit of going to the Fat Duck, I wondered if one of the ‘regulars’ could help me out?

Another idea – try adjusting the water in the dough mix. When a loaf has a steeply domed top, you can increase the water by 10% or more, making the top less domed. Add too much water and the top will collapse and have a hollow (and less overall volume). There is a middle ground…

We have butchers in London who fit the same profile – Brixton and Ladbroke Grove come to mind. They are some of the very few places where it’s possible to buy goat (it’s not available in supermarkets). They sell other meat as well, but are absolutely part and parcel of the community. Does your community African-American sell any types of meat not available at all in supermarkets?