Wilfrid

The more I think about it, the lousier a meal it was. The sunshine and Cabrales' company kept me in a good mood while eating, but in retrospect: yuck. First time I have tried the crudos, and they seemed to me just totally misconceived. I can't imagine they would have been better if the fish had been different, although the seasoning might have been more controlled. Soak delicate fish in seasoned olive oil, and guess what you taste? Yes, seasoned olive oil. I can't imagine why anyone would eat this in preference to sashimi. Have I completely missed the point? As for the baccala, choosing it was a calculated risk. Salt cod should not taste of salt when it is served. There are two straightforward techniques for removing the salt, and there is no excuse for failing to do so. Having said that, I have repeatedly found kitchens incapable of doing this. I couldn't figure out how Esca could remove the salt, and yet serve the baccala essentially raw and marinated. They couldn't. Absolutely nasty. I ate three small pieces, and sold one to Cabrales, the rest I left. As Cabrales, I believe, said at the time: you'd think someone in the kitchen would taste the food.

Esca serve campari and grapefruit as one of their sorbet flavors. As good as it sounds.

OOh, nice kitchen.....

I am interested: 54th between which avenues, may I ask? Thanks.

We got into this on the second page of the Best Deli sandwich thread. Click this.

No offence to Fran, but I don't agree. Depends when and where. A lot of the music I like most just doesn't go well with eating*. Some of the music I like does. And anything loud just gets in the way, because when I occasionally pause between mouthfuls, I may attempt to conduct a conversation. There was a lot of "I'm sorry? What?" going on at the Tasting Room, and it's not like there was six feet of table between us. *Example: "Neat Neat Neat" by the Damned. Indigestion.

I had trouble reading that last post.

I ordered this at the Raffles in Singapore once (yes,name-dropping), but it was an enormous anti-climax, as they sprayed it ready-made from a tap. A long time since I drank it, but I remember it being a little sweet; something one could probably control if one made it oneself.

Yes, some restaurants definitely have databases which identify you as someone who has dined there before. I don't know if they are further annotated, but it would seem a waste if they weren't. Be interesting if one of the pros out there can tell us more about this.

Me too. I also shared six of the smaller plates with a companion (they offer each dish in a regular size and a tasting size). The room is tiny, isn't it? I think I was a bit unreceptive to the staff, as I decided fairly quickly what I wanted and turned down several offers of assistance. They seemed particularly disappointed that I was able to understand the menu without assistance (a touch of the Craft disease). But they were very nice - there was even some touching. I think I rated the food a little higher. Didn't eat the sea bass, but the papardelle with chicken was surprisingly deeply flavored. Also liked the scallops and sweetcorn with a mushroom and - I suspect - veal stock sauce. There was tapioca with the cold poached monkfish, but not enough. The rabbit saddle was good too, although th stuffing lacked oomph. I thought it was an all round decent dinner, $80 a head including tax and tip. We didn't get beyond the wines by the glass. For me, the music started out too loud, but fortunately got quieter. Don't need music when I'm eating.

And no beard, right? I am thinking of growing one before I meet Steve - just to give him something to complain about.

We all tried to ignore you. Except Macrosan, who threw a chicken leg at you. C'mon Liza, what about Steve? I presume he was a guy, with all those guy things going on?

I thought clamato was an American thing. Maybe not. I recall seeing it in cans in UK supermarkets. Would be near the canned tomato juice, I should think.

One of the funniest things I ever saw: my father, unaccustomed to washing dishes, scrubbing really hard at a saucepan but making no progress. On close examination, what he thought was a Brillo pad* turned out to be a used teabag. *Soap-filled wire pad, in case the brand name means nothing.

Clafoutis. I actually had a damn good version of clafoutis at an otherwise unremarkable little French bistro on Avenue B (between 6th and 7th) called Belmondo. Really enjoyed it. By chance I have been pondering two recipes involving cherries. One is duck with cherries - which makes perfect sense. Less obvious is poached ox tongue with a cherry sauce. An old English recipe (go ahead - laugh), but one I would like to make if I can raise the energy for preparing the tongue.

Sounds like a Paul Liebrandt dish. (Apart from the burns.)

Certainly doesn't sound very useful. I was headed for Eisenberg's a few days ago, but my shopping bags got too heavy and I gave up. Delicate flower that I am. Still, I take your point.

Idiocy rather than injury. I have had my new cooker for about three months. Having some spare time over the weekend, I finally - finally - located the broiler. I knew there'd be one somewhere. At least I found it before I went out and bought a salamander. It was only after I went out and bought a powerful booster aerial to overcome the radio reception problems in my new apartment that I discovered I had never plugged the old aerial in after moving. Is there a dumbfuk icon?

Very strange to come to the end of the thread and just read the last post. However, now I underatand what SobaAddict means, can I just mention that one option for mushy peas, especially when taken with fish 'n' chips, is to fry them in batter (I mean, of course, a dollop of them, not each broken down pea individually!).

Having only been for dinner, Cabby, I can only hope that lunch is lighter and takes less than four hours! I presume you've checked out the menus on their web-site? Actually, didn't Bux and Shaw dwell on this question at some length in the Ducasse thread way back? I wish the search engine worked.

Geoducks are also readily available in Chinatown. I was strongly tempted by the geoduck at Esca, but the monkfish liver with rhubarb won out over all the crudo plates. I must admit, I had trouble with the wine list. Pretty much exclusively Italian, and just about nothing I had ever heard of. My ignorance, no doubt, but I really had to leave it to the wine waiter.

I like biographies. The trouble, as you point out, is time. I would probably be interested in another Elizabeth David bio if the first one I read had been unsatisfying. But the unread books pile up, forever...

No. Definitely not. Well, if you mean "survey" in the sense of write an authoritative report on the state of Elizabeth David biographies, then may be. But I don't think you have to read all or even most biographies of an individual in order to recommend one biography. Usually plenty of clues within the four corners of the text as to quality. Sorry if I have taken your question too seriously.

Yep, that's them. Quite disgusting. I shall carry on as usual then.

The secret -and it's not really secret - is to seek a table at some time other than Friday or Saturday at 7.30/8pm. I don't find it even slightly hard to believe that those tables fill up far in advance at popular restaurants. Try a Tuesday. I have practically walked into hard-ticket restaurants on a Monday or Tuesday. It would be interesting to ask Ouest on what day they could sit a party of two (or four) at 7.30 on a Friday. I had to make last minute weekend reservations for visitors last week, and I have to say that even what I would consider definitely second-string restaurants were offering me 5.30 or 10.30. Even down on the Lower East Side. I can't believe they were holding on to tables at better times - like I said, this was last minute. Credit where it's due: I have just changed a reservation at the Tasting Room for the third time, and they couldn't be more charming. Jennifer and some other lady. Well done.