Wilfrid

I entirely agree that such a denial is extremely mean, although arguably less mean than executing the person at all.

Terrific recommendations, thanks. I did try to find an "open Sunday" list on Zagat.com, but failed. Maybe my fault. Ten minute cab rides are no problem. Mildred Pierce might, forgive me, perhaps be a little camp? I will report back on whatever I end up doing. OK - Chiado it is, but Jov looks very tempting too. I may try a late lunch there on Monday if I have time.

For fuck's sakes Wilfrid we're talking about steak and fucking chips. Is it only for gastronomes to decide what is correctly drunk with this most egalitarian of dishes? Nothing fucking egalitarian about steak and chips where I grew up, Lord Snooty. It was an expensive treat. And as you well know, I am talking in the fucking abstract. As fucking usual.

Help. Every Toronto restaurant I can think of seems to close Sundays. Can anyone suggest a good spot for a Sunday dinner, preferably not too far from the city center? Or am I condemned to room service?

I say, Miss Peel! Did you know that Steed always called Emma Peel "Miss Peel" but called Tara King "Tara"? I must say, Tara did seem a more informal sort of gal.

That's why the good lord invented dishwashers. My dishwasher won't clean scrambled eggs. Dunno why, it just won't.

But, with respect y'Worship, why should gastronomy differ from literature, art, music - sport too, come to that, and a myriad other fields of human interest and enjoyment? Do we give weight to everybody's opinion when it comes to making critical judgments? If I want to know whether Roethke's later poetry represents a falling off or a consolidation of his earlier achievements, I am more interested in Harold Bloom's view than a modern language sophomore. If I need an opinion about a vintage wine from the Rhone, I will pay attention - for once - to Plotnicki rather than to my Aunty Dot. And if I want an informed conversation about the Yankees prospects in the World Series, I am more likely to address an American friend who follows baseball than an English friend who follows cricket. Not that any of this makes the sophomore, Aunt Dot or my English friend worse people. I wouldn't want to define the critical community too rigorously. I certainly don't mean to restrict it, in the case of gastronomy, to chefs, journalists and hangers-on of the culinary world, any more than I would mean to restrict it to professors and paid reviewers in the case of literature. But I don't think one can realistically arrive at reliable judgments of taste by polling everyone, regardless of their experience or interest in the subject matter. Does that sound elitist?

Priscilla and Zeno's Paradox. Sounds like a thread. Also, a thread please on things which are worth it on the How Fast Does It Need to Be, Anyway sliding scale of life. Like choosing exactly the right book to read on the loo.

For once I disagree with Yvonne; I think the room at Veritas is very soothing. Simon, your report didn't startle me - I have had good and bad dishes there but cannot fathom why the kitchen has the high reputation it apparently does. Sweetbreads, however. They can be prepared in a number of different ways, and do not need to be poached. They should be soaked in cold water with a touch of vinegar for an hour or so. One traditional approach, once you have dried and trimmed them, is to squash them under a heavy plate until they are about half an inch thick. Then, sliced and sauteed or grilled, they will indeed be cooked through - though they shouldn't be tough. Alternatively, you can leave them the shape god made them, and sear, sautee or even roast them. This way, you can certainly preserve a rare interior, if that's to your taste. The real challenge is to get flavors to penetrate that interior. Sweetbreads are very mildly flavored indeed. You can bring out flavor by caramelizing the outside, of course, and add flavor by seasoning and serving with a sauce. Rare sweetbreads (and I am thinking of the larger calf's glands here, rather than lamb's) can be somewhat bland. I ate rare sweetbreads at Jean-Georges which suffered this fault; despite the wonderful flavors of the broth in which they were served, the interiors were flabby and tastless. On the other hand, Cyril Renaud at Fleur de Sel manages to caramelize the outside and cook them just to the point of being done - immaculate timing. His are the best sweetbreads I've eaten in New York. Simon, sad to say, Fleur de Sel is quite near Veritas and a bit cheaper too.

Anyone wants to give me a bottle of Opus One, I confirm that I don't know much and will be suitably wowed.

So, a big steak, a pound of cheese and a tumbler of gin, and I'll be alright?

Yup.

Sounds smashing, Suzanne. Actually, it could be quite nice.

The merguez and chips butty sounds nice. I really think the current discussion - which is different from the one we started with several pages back - has a simple resolution. I think its misleading to take the sorts of standards Steve has been describing as implicit presciptions for individuals. In other words, while it may be fair to say that there is a pretty solid consensus among professional and knowledgeable amateur gastronomes (in the present day, our culture, etc) that red wine is about the best thing to drink with steak, I do not believe it follows as a consequence that red wine is the best thing for me, or Tony, or the little old lady next door to drink with steak. Individuals are infinitely varied. The consensus sets a very broad standard, that's all. I am making a slightly different point - please note, everyone - than the point that I, or Tony, or the old lady next door might prefer to drink Lucozade with steak. The point I am making now is that we might have good reasons for that preference. In other words, it is not necessarily a sign that we are palateless idiots. The general standard can't prescribe for every individual. But it's a good place to start.

So did my mum. And so do I. Where the microwave saves time, now I come to think of it, is cleaning the pan.

Never say never. And now I must go look up "poutine".

You certainly can if you want to. Just beat the eggs up in a bowl with whatever seasoning take your fancy, add butter if that's your custom, then zap them. Keep your eye on them, because they rise up like an over-excited souffle, and they are not going to take long at all - seconds rather than minutes. Also, take them out and give them a good stir while they are still slightly underdone, because they will carry on cooking rapidly outside the microwave. My father used to make scrambled eggs this way. Now the bad news. The texture is different from pan-scrambled eggs. Sort of denser and springier. Also, they seem to lose a lot of moisture. Slightly overcooked they become dry and rubbery. So, a much less enjoyable dish, but it's your trade-off, of course, between quality and speed.

I have plenty of old-ish French recipes which make vegetables extremely desirable by cooking them with various quantities of butter, cream, flour and eggs. usually onions or bacon too. A pea dish with an egg stirred in right at the end was truly memorable. From memory, there are plenty of vegetable gratins in Olney's Simple French Food. Of course, none of this will help with guilt, if that is what prompts the question.

No need, Cabby. Simply zip over on the shuttle, have a slap-up meal, get a long ride back to the airport and zip home again. I discussed this on the DC board a little while ago, and while the cab rides will be pricy, they'll be cheaper than staying overnight. Easy peasy, as Jamie would say.

Dammit, I remember the scene where she welcomes Tara King (Linda Thorson), but the dialog escapes me. I do recall what Steed said when introduced to Tara, though. He very reasonably commented: "Ra boom-di-ay!"

I think it's the mashed potatoes which are the issue. In the UK (I know, it's an American dish), it would be most unusual to eat mashed potatoes with fried chicken, or indeed anything breaded/battered and fried. Fries every time. And you don't want gravy on your fries, do you? I cook it in a manner similar to that described by Ron, but I add some cornmeal to the flour - it's supposed to give it extra crunch. Is that a waste of time?

Or simply drink enough to be sure of throwing up. For information, the severe munchies which develop after alcohol consumption are a response to the sharp drop in blood sugar triggered by boozing. The cause of that drop can be explained by one of the smug bastards, but that's the reason you can eat a horse despite filling yourself with beer. Of course, skipping a meal in order to carry on drinking is a contributory factor.

I have very fond memories of prime rib at The Post House, where they were willing to serve it fairly bloody as I'd requested. Long time since I've eaten any...but now you mention it

The details of a dinner at Emeril's which I've posted a couple of times now represent a tasting menu with dishes considerably more subtle and complex than the food prepared on his show. I would say that the regular entrees on the menu at his NO flagship are closer to what you see on TV, especially the signature heaped garnishes flung on top. Much heartier than the tasting menu dishes. The Flay show I watched most frequently was Chillin' and Grillin' with the excellent Jack McRedneck (whatsisname?). I think I do see resemblances between the dishes Flay prepares on TV and what I've eaten at Mesa Grill, although the restaurant for obvious reasons doesn't offer big BBQ-ed items more suitable for party dining. I haven't seen Flay do much Spanish food at all on TV, and I guess we could debate how Spanish Bolo is anyway. Any more? Can anyone familiar with Morimoto's cooking say if it bears any relation to his approach on Iron Chef?

You go ahead and make funny noise whenever you want, Miss J.