Wilfrid

The duck-rabbit. I wish I could draw picture here. Anyway, it's Gavin's mythical creature, so I'll defer to him! I was thinking that my explanatory post above was a bit dry and pompous, so I wanted to ask Stefany (and everyone): I think artists can express a philosophy (in the broad, world-view sense) in their work, so perhaps chefs can express themselves in an analogous way - right? The art example I have in mind (and there are many) is Francis Bacon, who I believe expresses in his paintings a pretty clear, forceful, and indeed somewhat distressing, view of what it is to be a human being. Certainly, the interviews he has given add a linguistic underpinning to his ideas, but I think the canvases speak for themselves. I'm not sure I'd like to find a Baconian world view expressed on a plate, but I think we could find examples of chefs who are "saying something", and not just feeding us - to be fair, they may just be saying something about food, rather than life in general! Tom Colicchio has been proposed. I would add Fergus Henderson in London. Who else? (Or am I talking out of my fundament?)

Blue Peter, Simon? I learnt a lot of things from Valerie, Lesley, Sarah, Janet, et al. Grew up a lot watching that show. I was an only child living in a neighborhood with few kids my age (I had friends at school, not a complete outcast!) so I learnt to cook through spending countless idle days hanging out in the kitchen with my mother. I watched, asked questions, and insisted on trying things. My mother also learnt hands on (she came from a large family) rather than from books. She could never tell me cooking times, temperatures or anything like that - she just did it from instinct. The consequence is that I am equally bad today at giving precise instructions (as anyone might have noticed from my attempts to explain how I cooked dishes on eGullet - it's the "How long do I cook it for?" "Until it's ready" school of catering). There was a distinct second step when I got seriously interested in food and restaurants in my late twenties. I started trying to recreate restaurant dishes by guesswork. A long and painful learning curve ensued, and I eventually realised I needed to pick up cookbooks, read recipes, and actually learn certain techniques. And am still learning.

I feel like a turncoat. I used to believe that one was entitled to dress as sloppily as one liked in any circumstances. I was gradually over taken by (1) age, (2) love of nice clothes, and most important (3) an interest in the whole restaurant experience, which include restaurants maintaining an appropriate ambience. Ripped t-shirts are fine for some places - not for Le Cirque.

You're right, Jeff (although, as I've said before, this makes me sound like my father). We were in Tabla a couple of weeks back, and were appalled at the general standard of dress. And I still shudder at the sight of the unshaven, uncombed man in docker pants with no socks being shown to a table at March. I can add some to your list: San Domenico, Cafe Boulud, Alain Ducasse (obvious, I suppose), Cello. If you want to dress up for a swanky evening, you could do worse than one of the grand hotels like the Pierre or the Carlyle. The food is not cutting edge, but is not bad, and in fact I have been meaning to go back to the Carlyle restuarant since the chef from now-defunct Trois Jean took over its kithcen. Might be good, in a robust French sort of way.

Cabrales, I think you worry unduly. I can't immediately think of an occasion when I have made a recommendation on eGullet that someone has acted on and then didn't like. Thankfully, my advocacy of Fleur de Sel for the unoffical eGullet NY dinner seemed to result in a good meal for everyone. But I don't think there's anything special about making recommendations on eGullet - I have been suggesting restaurants to friends and strangers for years; some work out, some don't. I'm sorry when they don't, but it's not something I lie awake over. People don't have to (a) ask me or (b) listen to me. And it is indeed important to remember that eGullet is only one source of information about restaurants. As far as St John goes, for example, far from being influenced by what I read on eGullet, I have been eating Henderson's food for years - since he was at the French House, and have dined at St John's many times. You and Simon just put it in my mind by talking about the squirrel. As I said, I wouldn't worry. By the way, thank you for your offers re Taillevent and La Tour. I have eaten at Taillevent, and while I've not been to La Tour, I have read a lot about it, so please don't go to any trouble for me. Thanks again.

I would love to try this place when I am in Washington in June. If I go for dinner, it's tempting to stay overnight. However, checking their web-site, I see that the rooms are fairly expensive.* How practical would it be to stay in downtown DC, but travel out to the Inn for dinner, then back again? And it would be by cab, because I will drinking rather than driving. It looks like its about 70km out of town, but what does that mean in real terms? Thanks for any assistance. *British understatement.

Don't worry, Cabrales, I have a whole bunch of recommendations, and it's up to me to figure out which ones to prioritise. As to the old-fashioned dishes, let me put it in a nutshell here, as it potentially deserves its own thread. When I was a kid, I sometimes caught a glimpse of upmarket restaurants, where elegant diners enjoyed formal service . I read the menus outside such restaurants, and then as time went by I must have read books about people like Escoffier, and meals consisting of a progression of elaborate courses. I found out about table-side service, chafing dishes, and all the rest of it. In short, I looked forward to sampling cuisine of this kind when the day came that I could afford it. Somewhere between my youthful fantasy and my adult liquidity, restaurants stopped being like that. I'm sad. There are a few outposts which give an idea of what such meals must have been like - Taillevent, La Tour D'Argent, Le Cirque, La Caravelle, Le Gavroche. But where can I really go and eat the classics of French haute cuisine today? (Not a rhetorical question, please feel free to tell me). So, when I see something like Homard a l'Americaine on a menu, or indeed the poached, truffled poularde which Delouvrier is offering at Lespinasse, my dreams are re-kindled.

Thank you, Cabrales, I was looking for this on the wrong thread as you rightly spotted. Those old-fashioned dishes are very appealing to me, and I will seriously consider it. Looks like you need to be hungry!

Priscilla, I use Nero Wolfe's (or Fritz's) shad roe recipes more often than any others. And Jaybee has started a thread on the new series in the General section.

Let's do some sorting out. The word "philosophy" can be used to mean a variety of things, and I think two uses may be at play in this thread: 1. Philosophy = world view. In other words, an attitude or feeling or general take on life, the universe and everything, which anyone might hold. That's a common, everyday use of the term, and you will hear people preface remarks on some subjects with a phrase like, "Well, my philosophy is..." 2. Philosophy = the academic discipline, as practiced (inside and outside academies) by people who would describe themselves as philosophers, and these days that usually means professional, academic philosophers. Also, two different questions to be distinguished: 1. Can philosophy, in either of the two senses above, be expressed without using words? 2. Can philosophy, in either of the two senses above, be discussed without using words? And the results are: The answer to question 2 above is clearly No. Whatever we mean by philosophy, there's only one way to discuss it, and that is by using words (and I suppose I should say that I do not mean to dismiss sign language, morse code or other substitutes for written and spoken words). The answer to 1. is, I think, Yes, so long as we are only concerned with philosophy in the first sense. Philosophy as an attitude, or world view, or even sense of style, can be expressed by what a chef serves and how they serve it. I entirely concur with his Lordship here, that the discussion of such forms of expression is properly the field of semiotics (the science of signs). You will find that such writers as Roland Barthes and Umberto Eco have written widely on the semiotics of fashion, sport and goodness knows what (have they written about food, I now wonder?). I am currently reading a book by Rebecca Sprang which could fairly be described as a historical semiotic analysis of restaurants. Can philosophy in the second sense, that of the academic discipline, be expressed without using words? I think not. It is, after all, chiefly about advancing, discussing and refuting arguments, and I would hate to be served an argument on a plate in a restaurant.

When you have an opportunity Cabrales, I would love to hear more about the food.

A good cider is a very correct choice to drink with English cheddar, since the same region of England which produces the best cheddar also produces the best cider apples. Beer is fine, although I am thinking of an ale (in England you would choose bitter or pale ale) rather than a light beer or lager. If you want to drink wine with cheddar, or similar semi-hard English cheeses (Gloucester, Double Gloucester, Cheshire, Wensleydale, Caerphilly), I would suggest going in the robust and tannic direction rather than light and fruity. I would select a shiraz (or shiraz/grenache) or a full-flavoured cabernet ahead of a merlot, pinot noir* or zinfandel. I see no reason why a strong Italian like a Barolo wouldn't work, although I don't recall trying it. *Although I now recall John Arlott commending a vintage Chambertin as an accompaniment to a slab of Gloucester!

I was back at the shad roe again last night (it freezes very well, by the way). This time I tried something new. I separated the two lobes, sauteed them lightly, then removed the membrane from one of them. I stirred the eggs into a simple pasta sauce (tomato, onion, garlic, oregano). It probably would have been fine to skip the sauteeing and just cook the eggs in the sauce from raw. I thought the resulting sauce would coat pasta very nicely. As it happens, I was wrong, and the grainy sauce tended to separate from the spaghetti and collect at the bottom of the dish. Tasted fine, but not a creation of genius on this occasion. My Beloved ate the other lobe, simply sauteed with a squeeze of lemon, and she had the better dish.

My number one choice in that category is "Babette's Feast". If you like old-fashioned, multi-course French dinners - which I do - the film will make you ravenous. I particularly recall the little quails in their pastry coffins. Also, the recent film "Chocolat" with Juliette Binoche playing a chocolatier (or is it chocolatiere?) in a small French town, will get your juices flowing if you like sweet things.

I nearly went to Biloxi once, largely out of curiosity, but got talked out of it. What a mistake. My only concern from your report, Steven, is that you may not be eating enough meat. Otherwise, it all sounds idyllic.

Priscilla - I tend to drink campari purely as an aperitif, before eating. Thomas - I think in the situations you describe my vision is usually impeded by the can of Red Stripe glued to my lips.

Thanks, mobsgob, I'll put it on my list for sure.

Don't you love "news"? I could hardly walk down the street last night for people in shorts munching dinner on the sidewalk. What nonsense. And Liza, those secretions again - you just can't leave them alone, can you?

Thanks, magnolia, I understand now.

Thanks, Andy. I am currently confused about the Embassy, as the only reference I can find is to the old nightclub, which was members only. Is that where Hollihead is cooking now? Anyway, I'm sure all will become clear. The Square is not new to me, but I haven't been in a while. Worth considering. The Capital: oooff! I am accustomed to Manhattan prices, but their tasting menu is coming in at $94 per head at today's exchange rate. That makes it more expensive than most top line New York restaurants, such as Jean-Georges. Lespinasse and, of course, Alain Ducasse are well over $100 of course. Still, I'm surprised.Chavot's menus

My Beloved and her friend cooked yesterday, so I came home assured of a meal of longaniza, rice and beans. Longaniza (doubtless linguistically related to loukanika and various other sausages) is a long, skinny Dominican sausage made of coarsely ground pork and flavored with cilantro and lots of garlic. When I came to serve myself, I discovered that other parties had enjoyed the longaniza to such a degree that only three chunks were left, each slightly under an inch long. Yellow rice and pink beans were still available. I had my revenge by preparing a nouvelle cuisine presentation: the largest white plate I could find. The three tiny pieces of sausage spaced well apart on one side of the plate, a spoonful of rice on the other side, and the bean liquid drizzled (yeah!) artistically around the edge. Think I made my point. Had to eat extra cheese to compensate. At the last minute, realised there was no beer in the house, and couldn't be bothered to open wine. Drank iced whisky and soda. Oh well...

As my food usually comes from the kitchen stone cold, I don't have this trouble.

Yes, I am very bad at eating seasonally. On a day like this, I usually find I've got a reservation at somewhere like La Cote Basque, or that I've bought all the ingredients for a cassoulet. I want to go and lie on the grass with a chilled flask of negroni.

Made a whole shaker-full of negroni the other night. Knocked me sideways! I find it's not too cloying if you go easy on the sweet vermouth.

Sad. I agreed with the comment that the Auberge looked like a seventies trattoria, but I had some quite fantastic dinners there. It had some kind of relationship with Oustau la Baumaniere, and was carrying out about as convincing a version of upscale Provencale cooking as I've ever found in London. Never mind...