Wilfrid

Could I just say, Poire William?

I had a similar experience with a bottle of kirsch, a drink I eschew to this day.

My version of tripes a la mode de Caen on Saturday. Tripe, calf's foot, vegetables, bayleaves, boiled, then simmered for about forty five minutes in chicken stock. Place the meat and veg in a clay casserole and cover with cider. In a slow oven for an hour or so - it is almost impossible to over cook tripe. I added some scraps of smoked bacon too. When it was done, I drained some of the juice into a saucepan, mixed a spoonful of it with a little beurre manie, and stirred that back in. Cooked until I had a nice tripe 'n' cider gravy to spoon over the potatoes. Last night I tried poaching Copper River salmon in plastic wrap. I slightly overcooked it - doesn't really need more than about five minutes in warm water - but it was delicate and interesting.

Glad it wasn't my imagination, John. I sometimes think a lot of "hipster" writing in the best sense owes something to Krim - then I wonder whether it is all just a coincidence.

Tommy has been appointed Chief Rammer and Dragger. You should see his ceremonial robes.

Nik Cohn's Heart of the World, in which he sets out to walk the length of Broadway (heading uptown), but kind of gets stuck around Times Square and Jimmy's Corner, may do it for you. Krim and Kent were long shots.

Only my lip, thank goodness. In addition to the inevitable chewing on the inside of my cheeks, I find my mouth gets razored to a bloody mess by particularly crispy baguettes. Just me? Can't resist them, though. As a child, I walked into a swing just after eating spaghetti bolognaise. Overcoming the impact I felt like my nose was bleeding. Oh no, it was my lunch. I pulled a long strand of spaghetti from my nose, to everyone's horror and disgust.

Jinmyo, bunuelos clearly require patience and restraint. Bad girl! Combined pre-cooked and homemade last night. My local Dominican restaurant roasts a big leg of pork every day, juicy and thick with crackling. They will carve you a huge protion for five or six dollars. Having saved myself a few hours of roasting, I made a bitter orange sauce. Two parts juice, one part veal stock, seasoned and decorated with strands of zest. Add a little sugar or regular orange juice to reduce bitterness if you wish. Plain rice on the side. And a middling Sancerre rose. (There was also some baklava and amaretto, I confess. )

Sole "Alice". A simplified version of Escoffier's recipe. Essentially, sole poached in thyme-scented fish stock, garnished with oysters. Not that difficult, but there's something swanky about it (even if you don't know what it's called). I also find people are impressed if you go to the trouble of boning and stuffing things.

Tripes from different animals?

Spent much of yesterday catching up on sleep, but let me agree, first of all, that sweetness was a distinct, and even obtrusive, theme of several savory dishes. Andy Lynes started a thread recently on "perceptions" of American food (specifically by the British), and I have to say that a common perception in the UK that Americans like sweet food would have been reinforced by this meal. I love rhubarb. It might be permitted to appear twice in a menu, once in a savory dish, then later in a dessert - as a sorbet flavor perhaps - but to use it twice as a garnish to savory dishes suggested either the kitchen was long on rhubarb or short on imagination. It turned up as a tart accent to the foie gras (good; Esca garnishes monkfish liver with rhubarb to similar ends), but also showed up as a very sweet accompaniment to the salmon. I said at the time that I was perfectly happy to eat the delicate salmon, or the dessert-style rhubarb, but not on the same plate. I didn't like being served two contrasting amuse bouches simultaneously. We each had two plates in front of us, cluttering the table, and it wasn't as if one was going to be eating both dishes at the same time. Were the waiters trying to save themselves an extra walk? It was at this point also that it became clear that the kitchen had decided to surprise us by changing the order, and to an extent the content, of the menu; this was irritating, and would have necessitated changing the wine plans too. A compromise had to be negotiated. The soft shell crab was fine, although the best I have had this year was the version at Fleur de Sel, crusted with powdered almonds and accented with ramps. The foie gras was terrific. I had forgotten the glaze on the lamb, but Cabrales may have forgotten the quite distinctive, dark eggplant puree which accompanied it. Final thought: it may read like a long menu, but the portions were fairly small, and I certainly woke up hungry. Let's be clear: this was a good meal, skillfully cooked, but what would eGullet be without nitpicking criticism?

No, indeed. You have to thumb back through the posts to see how we got here. I can't remember.... zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...slumps on keyboard...

I was served a sheep's head, entire, in Barcelona once. I wasn't expecting it, because I knew little Spanish back then. It had simply been cleaved (cleaven? cloven?) straight down the middle. Teeth, brains. However, no eyes. I have yet to eat an eye. I expect the chef plucked them out for a nibble while he was charring the head briefly - it came burnt on the otuside, but otherwise quite rare and bloody.

Derrida: "Il n'y a rien d'hors texte." Light middleweight.

Tomatoes? Don't ask. I have no idea why. Fiddleheads: very cute indeed, great name, hardly worth eating. In my view.

Mm, I spent the weekend reading a book about identity, borders, colonialism and language by a French-Maghrebian/Algerian Jew, name of Jacques Derrida, for much the same reason. Sadly, nothing about food in it... "Monolingualism of the Other" was the title.

I read your response to Jinmyo on literary interests. Your writing style has, for me, some familiar echoes - not a criticism, I find them harmonious and reassuring. Let me a fire a few names: Nik Cohn, Seymour Krim, Lester Bangs, maybe Nick Kent. Am I close with any of those? I wish Lester Bangs had been a food writer.

How very disappointing, Felonius. I have done okay at La CB in the past. I wonder if their kitchen is worse on Sunday nights than on other nights? By the way, I am with TCD on Capsouto Freres: sweet place, but don't touch the food.

All great ideas. Moira Hodgson gave Washington Park a rave review in the Observer last week.

I have an embarrassing and inexplicable one: fresh tomatoes. Like Plotnicki with oysters, I would like to get over it, as I know I'm missing out. I have tried. I have sat down in front of a tomato and tried to eat it. Can't. I don't know why - it doesn't make me vomit or burst out in a rash - it's just completely unpalatable. I no longer pick pieces of fresh tomato out of a salad - I used to when I was a kid. If it's mixed with something, I can eat it. And any kind of cooked tomato, tomato puree, tomato ketchup, etc, is fine. Another embarrassing one: I can and will eat avocado, but I just don't see what's nice about it. Guacamole likewise.

Adam, thanks for the information on the chicken dish. As for the technique described above, I seem to remember Watson first comes across Holmes doing something similar to cadavers at Guy's Hospital in A Study In Scarlet. Jinmyo - I don't suppose you had any leftover brandade to make bunuelos? I would sprinkle just a little minced cilantro into my batter mixture, before dipping the balls of brandade and deep frying.

I woz confused. I thought the thread here was referring to the guy I now know to be Dan. The other guy was indeed a hottie. Which is not to be ungallant to Dan.

Let's talk about fatty pork. Steve Plotnicki referred on another thread to the current popularity of "fresh bacon" - belly pork with a crisp, crackly skin and soft flesh. I have also noticed a taste for suckling pig around town. I ate at Pico, the allegedly Portuguese restaurant in Tribeca, some weeks ago; didn't like it overall, but enjoyed their signature suckling pig, with skin as crunchy as hard toffee. Fleur de Sel is offering a cold suckling pig terrine - you don't get the crackling skin, but you do get the velvety flesh, set with a little foie gras as I recall. On Saturday, San Domenico, one of my favorite restaurants in New York, offered a suckling pig special. It was a simple but completely satisfying presentation: a large portion of piglet, stuffed with fennel, well-peppered, and serve with a few sauteed potatoes. Very crisp skin; the flesh a little firmer and more biteable than at Pico. SD has also figured out how to serve food hot: heat the plate, and cover the dish on its way from the kitchen to the table. Not rocket science. I would be interested to hear of other good suckling pigs around town, especially in Chinese restaurants.

I lunched at Citarella too. The service was extra-pleasant. I don't eat much at lunchtime, but what I had was fine - I recall an enjoyable rock shrimp salad. My companion turned out to be a non-fish easter, as well as a vegetarian (like, thanks for telling me), but they made her a big pasta dish which she liked. It's not cheap.

There are two English language versions - one for the UK, one for the States. I use the latter - have no idea about the accuracy of the translation, but still find it very useful.