Wilfrid

Tony, your question is a fair one, and I think some of Stephen T's earlier comments relate to it. Taking a very strict view of Plotnickiism - probably stricter than that of the founder - a connoisseur who was fully equipped to judge which foods are "best" and which beverages accompany them "correctly", nevertheless does not choose to eat the "best meal" they can - given affordability and availability - at every meal-time. We choose the way we eat for all different kinds of reasons, which vary with the fluctuations of our bodies and our moods, whether we're feeling extravagant or mean, how hungry we are, what we ate yesterday and - one which eGullet relentlessly overlooks - what we want to say about ourselves by our choice of repast. A strict Plotnickiist "best of" diet would quickly becomes tedious and cloying. Example: even if one does believe that Robuchon's mash is the best potato preparation ever, who would choose to eat it to the exclusion of every other potato dish? Only someone quite manic. This is why, while agreeing with Steve that there is a consensus within the community of gourmets about which wines to drink with which foods - and also that ill-informed opinions on such subjects may be worthless - I also agree that people can have perfectly good reasons for preferring a glass of milk to a fine Burgundy. This really isn't an either/or debate, in my view.

I didn't get any schmaltz because ahr told me it was the OJ for the vodka, and ahr can keep a straight face over three courses pretty well.

Reading along here, just for my own edification: Steve P.'s definition of "artisanal" does seem to be a specialist definition. Question. Under the Plotnicki definition, can a product be "artisanal" but not particularly good? Or is that a contradiction?

Good post Stephen. It points out some explanations for the commonly observed phenomenon that the most enlightened, nay evolved connoisseur of fine dining does not choose the "best" meal they can afford on every occasion they are hungry. And it really is something which needs explanation, unless we are to regard such behavior as irrational. Scorates was wrong, you see: knowing what is good does not necessarily lead to choosing what is good.

I want to go back and eat some more of that chicken. This time, preferably without the odious little Sizchuan peppercorn timebombs anaesthetizing my tastebuds. There are some chicken dishes which eschew those evil little suckers, aren't there?

I am bound to agree that there worthless opinions about food, just as there are worthless opinions about philosophy, literature and sport. Of course, one can disagree about which opinions are worthless, and how they are to be identified, but I don't see any way to deny that worthless opinions exist. And there are also opinions with which one might disagree, but which nevertheless are not worthless - for example, when they offered by someone who generally understands the subject. I could list several of Fat Bloke's opinions as examples

Thanks, Gordon. Sounds very hard to get a reservation too.

Yes, I'd forgotten the vile eggs. I am sure there was something else nasty too, which came along at the same time as the kreplachs.

A bizarre but immensely enjoyable evening, which is pretty much the par for eGullet events. But let me offer the first, ahem, Goyish commentary on the food. Some of the worst dishes I have eaten in a very long time. And the prices? What we were not subjected to, because we thankfully ate a set meal, were the a la carte prices. Now, while Sammy's entree prices may not quite overlap with those of Lespinasse, I would like to see some more clear blue water between the two. Several entrees cost between $26 and $30, with sides priced separately. This would be unfair if the cooking were good, but at this standard that's nothing short of robbery. In contrast, our $50 a head for just about every appetizer on the menu, served family style, plus one entree each, seemed reasonable. The only two edible items were the chopped liver - and I disliked the stringy burnt onions, which I admit may be authentic - and the stuffed cabbage - despite the floury tomato sauce. The lowlights. Sliced, unseasoned, undressed, flavourless calf's brain. Veal sweetbreads with both the texture and taste of burnt rubber bands. Greasy, limp fries. Latkes which seemed to be filled with some combination of gluey potato and flour suitable for pasting wallpaper. Leaden, unseasoned kreplach. A garlicky, sausage into which the evening's entire ration of salt had been poured, leaving none for the other dishes. I am partial to rugelach, and can find palatable versions in any supermarket - these were warm, but doughy and tasteless. And the veal chop. Steven, did you try it? Completely unseasoned again - wet cardboard, not breaded, but shrouded in a soft, droopy batter. I managed to get about a third of it down by smothering it with tomato ketchup. Our waitress was thoughtful enough to tell us "the coffee sucks"; if only she'd warned us about the food. The best food on the table was a jar of sauerfleisch which Bourdain thoughtfully plonked down, with accompanying pumpernickel. Hideous. I am sure everyone's grandma did much better with these dishes at home. P.S.: Just read Fat Bloke's second post. As you see from my last sentence, I draw no conclusions about the genre. If anything, last night increased by desire to sample a decent version.

Gee Let's not forget that it is perfectly consistent to believe both that certain locally agreed criteria are available against which the quality of foodstuffs, or dishes, or eating or drinking experiences can be judged, and that a person can have specific personal preferences which are at odds with the conclusions suggested by those criteria without that person necessarily being a tasteless fuckwit. Let's not forget that such criteria can and do vary geographically, culturally and historically. No universally and timelessly valid criteria are available - by which I mean that, even if such criteria existed, we would have no way of confidently identifying them. And let's not forget that having poor taste in food does not make someone an idiot.

I think there may have been a few unoccupied tables, but certainly the dining room was reasonably busy.

Atelier, which opened earlier this year with a former Jean-Georges chef-de-cuisine, Gabriel Kreuther, in the kitchen, is located in the Ritz Carlton on Central Park South. With no separate entrance, and decked out in the global Ritz Carlton livery of soft greens and beiges, the restaurant lacks its own style. But there's some skillful cooking going on. Service here is formal and correct, but we recognized our waiter, who we had liked a lot when he worked at D'Artagnan. Atelier has inherited a D'Artagnan captain too. The menu is fairly brief - $70 for three courses prix fixe. There's a $95 tasting menu, but since that excluded some of the more interesting dishes we ordered from the carte. The two stand out items were the langoustines and the squab. New Zealand langoustines, apparently, large and earthy (good), served grilled over the neatest, tidiest, least raggedy soft poached egg you can imagine. Each langoustine was anointed by the waiter with a spoonful of something which looked like caviar but which was a fine brunoise of pineapple moistened with balsamic vinegar. A chunk of the shellfish, coated with the brunoise and dipped in the egg yolk provided a deeply satisfying bolus of tastes and textures. Weary of the roast beef/rack of lamb/squab in a wine reduction with a few odd garnishes which have become routine on upscale restaurant menus, it was refrshing to come across a made dish which actually sought to work a transformation on the squab. The breasts were sliced and layered with foie gras, wrapped in Savoy cabbage, then cooked in a Moroccan-style brique pastry. The resulting, er, pie I suppose, was opened at the table to display the lovely pattern of the filling. The breast meat was rare the foie gras molten, the cabbage soft, and the pastry case perfectly crisp. Good work. The squab's legs were roasted and served on a side plate with a little salad. These were the highlights. The other dishes were creditable. Neatly seared foie gras (and a surprisingly generous tranche, at that), poached chicken with tarragon and the kind of pommes purees where the potatoes almost vanish within the butter and cream (not my favorite kind). To follow, the same kind of cheeseboard you will find at most of the French restaurants in New York which bother - very predictable but adquately well-kept. I wonder why American restaurants here are better at cheese? The wine list? Dramatically top heavy, I thought. The mark-ups may be fair, but the sheer quantity of bottles in the $200 plus range was perturbing. I found a patchy vertical of the Grange at atmospheric prices. Turning to the Spanish list for light relief, I stumbled over a vertical of Vega Sicilia, also outlandishly expensive. Not enough decent bottles even in the $90 to $100 region. A pity. The clientele the evening we dined were mostly wealthy people of a certain age, groomed and bejewelled, and maybe that's the market for that kind of wine list. But good eating.

I went back to the archives at the weekend, and compared the 2002 restaurant listings with 2001, taking New York as an example. Last year, the magazine listed their top 50 US restaurants. Jean-Georges was at number 2, and Daniel, Le Bernardin, Babbo, Nobu, Gramercy Tavern, Gotham B&G and Peter Luger all made the list. A year later, all those have fallen out of the listings except Babbo, which has been joined by the Four Seasons, Cafe Boulud, and Pearl Oyster Bar - all of which must have improved dramatically as those others declined - as well as the new Washington Park. Silly those these lists are, I am impressed by the degree of thoughtlessness, inconsistency and arbitrariness displayed here. And both lists were produced under Reichl's editorship.

Avoid the pecan-crusted walleye pike at all costs.

Certainly herbs. Let's see if there's a web-site. Well, there's a corporate web-site for the group which tells you nothing, and bizarrely fails to reveal the recipe for campari. This is more interesting and gives you a bit of history, but confirms that the ingredients are a trade secret. It's a partial answer, at least. And I can confirm that I am still drinking the drinkof the summer - campari on the rocks with Ting, a Jamaican grapefruit soda brought to my attention by Malawry.

John, it sounds like Sillfield Farm is a noble exception. I suppose it's the kind of cheese one usually finds in vaccuum packing to which I object,

*Vacuum* packed cheese is very practical and not at all to be disparaged. It allows you to buy more than you need at the moment and open it later, knowing that it will not have either dried out or gone soggy. How many people live so close to an excellent cheese shop that they can time their purchases precisely to their consumption?Maybe for a thread of its own: I concede, of course, that vaccuum packaging will keep cheese fresh, but what good cheeses can you get vaccuum-packed, John?

I think that's consistent with our experience. It's been a long time though, and maybe we're due to try it again. I have asked elsewhere on the Board, with no response, but I suppose no news about Rodriguez's grand old-Havana style restaurant opening?

Now he does the research.

You've revised your views on New Jersey pancake houses and huevos rancheros, then? I am now a snob, and it's embarrassing because I turn my nose up at foods I used to eat with pleasure. I can't look at plastic wrapped cheese and cold cuts any more, let alone sliced bread, canned vegetables and frozen meals. Not to draw general conclusions about people who do, because it could still be me.

I didn't say it was tough. I thought it was a geographically widespread (okay, some empohasis on the States), unusual and entertaining compilation. I read very few of the paragraphs and muttered "I knew that".

Tilda was the one I usually bought, Miss J, and thanks because I would never have remembered (the blackouts, you see).

Just you. I don't recall ever having problems with supermarket bought Basmati rice. Could it be something else, like the local water you're cooking it in that makes it go mushy? Dunno, only guessing.

Of course. I think just about any leftovers can be made into another meal. My problem often is that the meal for the next day is already lanned and ingredients bought, so if I eat the rice the next day I throw out something else.

Picking up from comments made on the free rice thread, do you consider throwing away food to be a terrible thing to do. I guess everyone does it sometimes, most obviously when the food has started to rot, but how resistant to the idea are you? I regret that I throw away quite a lot of food. I am adept at recycling leftovers, but there comes a point at which you say, no I do not want to eat that week old broccoli prepared in yet another style. Also, I often throw away quite a lot of (especially Chinese) take-out food because the portions are far too large, there are extra orders of rice even if rice is included in the dish, there are often unsolicited salads and old oranges, and maybe you count the two hundred sachets of "duck sauce" as food too. Not to mention impulse buying of "healthy" items which are then never eaten because not really liked. Apples, for example.