Wilfrid

I love that crunchy jelly thing. Haven't had jellyfish since Congee Village, and I think there it had been dead for a little while.

Thanks indeed for the report. I have lost count of the times people have said that the best part of a meat course was the braise or confit rather than the roast, but - as I tirelessly point out - upscale restaurants seem nervous about serving braises and stews as such.

Nick, it was about the same price as Lespinasse, but significantly better.

Perhaps if Toby has time, and of course if she feels comfortable, she might post the recipe I used (or give me permission to do so) - I don't know if there are copyright issues. Sorry, Suvir, but the extra eggs definitely worked for me. My previous efforts were concrete.

Had a return match with Alain Ducasse at the Essex House on Friday. I can't add much to previous discussions, except I will say that the service was not only excellent, but I also found it somewhat less formal than the first time I dined there. Our waiter was warm and friendly, and the two sommeliers we dealt with were positively chirpy. I think it's right for New York to leaven the French professionalism with a little informality. I was tempted by the autumn menu, but outvoted by the Beloved we chose from the carte. After a gougere filled with warm Mornay sauce, and an amuse of a tiny fillet of red mullet in an intense bouillabaisse - which I could happily have eaten as one of the courses - we naturally started with game pie . This was venison, patridge and teal, studded with foie gras, in a simple short-crust pastry crust, garnished with finely diced pickled vegetables and a white wine jelly. Roast main lobster with a slightly spicy sauce was preferred by my Beloved to the troncon of sole. I thought the latter was the dish of the evening, confounding my usual scepticism about white fish. The slice of sole was cooked right through - which I liked - and had a gentle mustard crust. My Beloved thought the white sauce was very eggy, but I found it delicate and smooth. To borrow a phrase, it was a dish which "tasted of childhood". Slices of squab and foie gras wrapped in something-or-other is all the rage this season in Manhattan. From Atelier's Moroccon-influenced pigeon pie, to Lespinasse's pigeon in Savoy cabbage. At ADNY, the very rare slices of squab breast, sandwiched with foie gras, had been wrapped first in cabbage then in paper-thin bacon, and cooked as a kind of sausage, then sliced and plated. I liked the intense truffled veal reduction. Cheese, ho hum, how boring. Why can't they lift their selection? I had a well ripened Cabrales, but the other selections were high street quality. Served with a black olive brioche, which was pleasant but hard to fit in at this stage of the meal. A warm apple and chestnut thing in a big glass for madam, which I didn't get near; a crunchy praline in a chocolate case for me, guarded by dramatic candied nuts on long strands of sugar. A quickly melting sorbet ina mando soup. Chocolates. In-house macarons (excellent, velvety texture). Candy cart. Aargh, enough. We were comped to champagne. The sommelier thought I ought to try a 2000 Volnay Les Caillerets, but I feared it was too young. We settled on a 1996, which came up quite chilled. Decanted, it improved during the meal, but wasn't a jaw dropped by any means. A South African dessert wine, Constantia, which I hadn't tried before, and a refreshing sparkling cider for Madam. There were sixteen people working in the kitchen on a busy evening, and I should think at least that number in front of house. Sixty seven covers, so - in addition to no table-turning - one is also paying for a high staff to guest ratio. Happily, the check was actually smaller than last time round!

It is nice stuff, indeed. If anyone wants to find it in London, head for the French pub in Dean Street, Soho. They usually have it by the glass and bottle.

Teal are indeed tiny. Nigella Lawson, when she was a proper journalist rather than an international sex goddess, described the experience of eating teal for the first time as like eating little babies ( ). Anyway, delicate things that they are, if you don't want to do the quick, rare roast, you could try: Poaching: either in wine or milk, with whatever seasonings, herbs, or mirepoix you fancy. If you want the birds to have a bit of colour, quickly sear them all over first in some hot oil. Poach them gently, because they'll soon be done. Salmis: Part roast in a hot oven, but before they're done, take them out, let them cool, cut off the breasts and legs. Have a nice red wine sauce simmering in a pan (maybe with mushrooms?), then finish the teal pieces in the sauce. You can start off the legs first, then add the breasts just before the end, thus getting your timing right. Plate the teal, then bubble the liquid down for a good pan sauce.

Okay, I cracked it yesterday, with a little advice from Toby. Got the skillet hot, used far more eggs and butter, and ended up with a crunchy crust but a soft spongy (yes, not dry and crumbly) interior. Baby loves the stuff. Now I can start fine tuning the flavour and adding bits and pieces.

Those seem to me to be foolish dishes to put on a restaurant menu.

Ruth, that Balkan dish sounds magical - a sort of delicate version of haggies. I don't suppose one might find it in New York somewhere?

Er...wow, thanks.

As I think I mentioned, if you are talking sex organs, the bung has to be in there.

Steven, do you think it makes a difference to servers? It does, under New York etiquette anyway, have a direct bearing on their tip. As a solo diner, I have often detected the server's relief when they recognize that I am not going to sit over a glass of chardonnay all night. I don't know how much that filters back to the kitchen.

He's right. Anyone need advice on cooking testicles, just shout out.

A question which probably derseves its own thread, Nick. I don't know about sub-par, but there's no doubt in my mind that your server - and therefore potentially the kitchen - will draw conclusions about you from your wine order. I don't say that's fair, but I'm sure it happens. Over the years, I have dined out a lot, for business reasons as well personal hygiene (before someone else says it), and wait staff are often visibly reassured that they are not dealing with a stingy sad sack when I order the booze.

I ate Fergus Henderson's kidney in suet when he was cooking for the tiny room above the French pub in Soho before St John opened. A seriously memorable dish.

Interesting, and I find myself not too surprised by the comments here. "Too busy and overwhelmed" I think Steve said. Yes, my impression from my one visit is that a restaurant operating at that frantic level of hyperactivity is not going to be able to focus very carefully on each dish it sends out - nor, in a clinical business sense, does it really need to. It's hard to think of a restaurant in New York where a better Italian meal is a possibility - I haven't been to Lupa, and San Domenico is not really running in that race - but I can readily see why the potential at Babbo often goes unfulfilled.

There are people who grew up with offal, and people to whom it is a strange and creepy new planet. Without over-generalizing, I suspect people who grew up in Britain in the fifties and sixties probably ate a fair bit of offal as children - liver, kidneys, black sausage, tongue, oxtail, heart. i certainly did. Brains and sweetbreads were more fancy restaurant items, so I didn't eat those until later. I also have the impression that Americans from the southern states are more likely to be offal eaters - chitterlings and the like - than their northern cousins - true? And as for continental Europe, not to mention Latin America - tripe paradise. So, there are a lot of seasoned offal eaters out here. However, I do agree that offal has come back into fashion as far as restaurants are concerned. For me, it's a good thing. It started happening in London when I still lived there back in the mid-'90s, thanks to chefs like Fergus Henderson and Gary Rhodes. Batali is doing a lot for it in New York. The "lathering up" idea seems to be a way of introducing offal to the squeamish.

Nice silhouette, poor workmanship.

I don't believe I asked, but thanks for the tip on the duck offal. Happily, chicken gizzards seem to be commonly available in Manhattan supermarkets. Might I just mention that I thought this was the Offal thread on the General forum - I wasn't presuming to respond for Ed, and look forward to his comments. oops.

A typical rosti is probably going to be thinner and of greater diameter. I admit to using a pinch of flour to help bind my rostis, but that's probably not authentic. I was just thinking that since I can make rostis, I should try making latkas. As a change from dried out cornbread .

It was a pity we couldn't sample the wines side by side, but I think as a point of fact the sommelier was right that there wasn't room on the table. It was a small table for six people - and even then it was hard to hear each other at first. Come on, someone say something about the Italian wine.

It's usually a veal marrow bone, which is roasted in the oven, split into lengths of about two to three inches, and served with a utensil suitable for scooping out the marrow inside. It is often obvious from a glance at the bone itself that it has been well-cooked. Any little bits of meat or gristle still attached to the outside of the bone will be caramelised, and the bone itself will be darkish in color. A pure white bone is a sign of likely undercooking. As for the marrow, when properly cooked it has a very soft, gelatinous texture, not unlike unset jelly, and a rich flavor. The more undercooked it is, the more it feels and tastes like raw, white fat. The marrow at the Strip House had that pasty, raw fat texture and didn't taste great. Best marrow I've eaten in New York was at Gramercy Tavern, where it had already been extracted from the bone and used to garnish the fillet of beef. Also found an excellent one hiding in a pot au feu at Cafe des Artistes.

There was an old thread about this Village steakhouse, but I thought I'd start over to discuss last night's visit with various divas and windbags (include me in both categories please). It's well-known that the decor is faux-New Orleans bordello, dark and red with ancient smutty photos on the walls. It was also fantastically noisy last night, until we outlasted most of the other tables. I know there are going to be some disagreements about food and service, so let me stick my neck out. I thought service was adequate for a restaurant of this level. No, it wasn't beamingly gracious, and yes we did have to hang around a bit for a bottle of wine during our main course, but I thought it was okay. I ate a generous appetizer: half a roast squab on a large rice cake, balanced in turn on a mound of cabbage. The squab was excellent, but the dish suffered from dramatic contrasts in temperature: the bird was just above warm, the rice cake was blisteringly hot, and the cabbage ice-cold from the refrigerator. I burnt my mouth. Last time I ate here, I found the strip steak disappointing - chewy in an uninteresting way and not strongly flavored. This time I shared the strip for two, and it was very significantly better. Tender, cooked rare as ordered. I have to say most of the flavor came from the well-seasoned crust, but the steak was pleasant. It was also very large, even when split. It came with a marrow bone which was drastically undercooked (not uncommon in the few New York restaurants where I've seen it) and a tasty strip of bacon rolled around a piece of leek. Creamed spinach was average. Everyone said the potatoes cooked in goose fat didn't taste of goose fat. Well, I cook potatoes with duck fat and they certainly had the distinctive taste of either goose or duck fat to me. I didn't get near the french fries, thank you. Creamed spinach was unobjectionable. The dessert at my end of the table was a remarkably architectural chocolate cake which looked and behaved like a tottering skyscraper. Disturbing but enjoyable. There was a split vote on the wine order. We settled that by ordering both selections. I chose a 1995 Rioja Ardanza, which I had liked before, although I could understand some finding it too soft to drink with steak. I don't think we discussed the other wine, a Chianti Classico, but I must say I didn't particularly like it. A bad example, or not just to my taste? Overall, a meal which matched the restaurant's proffer, but didn't exceed it. Okay, everyone tell me where I'm wrong.

Is there any significant difference between latkes and rostis, other than the inclusion of onions in the former? Can't see any from reading this thread.