Wilfrid

Without wishing to stray into a wine board discussion, I was intrigued, Steve, by your listing of a 1958 Rioja, from a good producer. Quite a few years ago, I tasted some red Rioja's which must have had around ten to twenty years bottle age (between 1975 and 1985). They had what one might describe, in short-hand, as vintage qualities in abundance. At first I was startled, but then enchanted by the pungent, smelly old farmyard things going on. And, as you describe so well, they gave me a benchmark for what I should look for, albeit in a less pronounced fashion, in more recent and affordable Riojas. I imagine the experience with the '58 was even more dramatic. Did it teach you lessons for wines outside Rioja too?

Well, it's big time British pigginess with regard to french food that interests me. It is documented that the Prince Regent imported a French chef and gave French-style banquets, and he was a mega-piggy. But why French? - especially since this was a during a period of Anglo-French hostilities, and the popular press were deriding French food, along with all French manners, as nasty, smelly and foreign. I suppose one basic thing I ought to do is generate a time-line underlying all this, so we know where we are.

Cabby - from memory, no. I recall it was surprising but appropriate. Southerngirl - Well, I'm going back some way, to summer '97. So whoever was sous-chef or executive chef then, I guess. I'd certainly eat their food again!

Wilfrid -- Emeril's. When you have a chance, could you consider discussing what made the meal so special? Happened by chance to stumble across my notes last night, so i can at least give you the menu (as I recalled it the next day, not directly transcribed): Oriental cucumber salad with salmon carpaccio and dill Chilled mussel chowder with three caviars (each served on a half shell), wild thistle and mussel croquette Filet of escoular on garlic potato puree with tiny fried fish, onion rings, ganrished with a single chive Filet of salmon wrapped in duck bacon, sauce a l'Americaine, red pepper puree, parsnip crisps Spatchcocked Louisiana quail, tranche of foie gras, puree of blackeyed peas, spiced collard greens, three onion marmalade, herb polenta Salt-crusted loin of lamb over apple, mint and cheese risotto, garnished with rosemary sprig Louisiana cheeses, crushed nuts, walnut and almond biscotti Choc chip brownie, blueberries and raspberries, hazelnut ice cream, chocolate sauce and creme Anglais Strawberries in dark and white chocolate, white chcocolate and hazelnut praline, white chocolate liqueur sauce Wines: Champagne (unspecified) Mondavi-Rothschild Opus One (lost the year) The house Grenache/Syrah (with the cheese) Quady's Orange Muscat Comments: It reads a little overwhelmingly, but I recall the balance between many facets of interest in each dish, and restraint and harmony in composition and presentation. These dishes were far from messy. The ideas were wonderfully executed, and not by Emeril himself who was away that night (but phoning in regularly to check). I might single out the astonishing use of wild thistle with the chowder, the delicate adaptation of Southern ingredients such as black-eyed peas and collard greens, the fantastic apple, mint and cheese risotto, and Opus One was more than potable.

Well, I have gone through some of the secondary materials kindly cited by Steve Klc earlier. When I found the Wheaton book, I realised that I had in fact read it a year or so ago. It provides a thorough history of French cuisine up to 1789, and so doesn't address the question framed in this thread. The background is interesting. Wheaton (and Stephen Mennell) both date the creation of a distinctive national, recognizably French cuisine, from the middle of the seventeenth century at the earliest - they both dismiss the oft-repeated story of Catherine De Medici's introduction of Italian gastronomy to France as a red herring. The gastronomic ostentation of Louis XIV's court seems to have given an impetus to grand, elaborate dining as a fashion for the aristocracy within France. Raymond Solokov recapitulates these points. His book, Why we eat what we eat I found revelatory when I first read it. He dismantled many of my preconceptions about what constitutes a national cuisine by demonstrating the manner in which ingredients and cooking techniques have been passed around the world. His agenda, however, is more to show the surprising influence of the new world on the old, rather than to explain how an old world cuisine, such as that of France, became internationally distributed. He seems to take that for granted, and devotes more attention to the development and influence of nouvelle cuisine in the 1970s, which is much easier to trace. As Steve Klc said, De Groot also focusses on the Bocuse/Troisgros/etc revolution in French food. He covers the history in short order, but does make an interesting reference to the "world wide influence of Antoine Careme". lxt discussed Careme's role in Russia earlier in the thread, and he also passed briefly through England. The distribution of his writings might give us a basis to quantify the importance of his influence, and I should look at what Willans says about that. The "great man/woman" theory of history is easy to reject in favor of socio-economic analyses, but we should at least bear in mind, as a hypothesis, the importance of an individual like Careme. I still anticipate that an important part of the story is going to be the adoption of French manners in general by certain strata of society in certain countries. That, in itself, can hardly be a simple story, not least because some of the countries in question were at war with France during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, and "French" was not a label of quality in any kind of simplistic way. I now need to spend more time looking at the two most promising sources I have unearthed so far: Trubek, described in my earlier post, and Stephen Mennell's All manners of food. I haven't yet found Shaw on Escoffier. This may take a little while.

You mean it would be based, in part, on a factual misunderstanding of some kind?

And of course, for a neighborhood joint, you want to be able to get a table without a hassle. I'll stick with El Nuevo Castillo, thanks, although I confess the lobster shepherd's pie tickles my fancy. Ever eaten a crab Scotch egg, Mr Shaw? I have

The behavior you describe is intolerable, JD. How pompous! I have had similar experiences, with restaurants saying they "can't" cook meat that way. I have even suggested, in the case of a filet mignon, simply butterflying it. That was refused too, and I was tempted to ask if I could come to the kitchen and butterfly it for them. In practical matters, if the cook digs his heels in, you are going to end up with something horrid. I value those restaurants, and there are many, where they understand the request and take the trouble to execute it.

I think there are some pie tasting courses you might register for. Or more seriously, I recall that you don't much like game. I assume you mean the stronger varieties in particular. Yet I assume - correct me if I'm wrong - that you don't dismiss it out of hand. If you had the curiosity to learn about it and practice tasting it, you might come to like it. Also, you might not. We all have things we don't like, no matter how hard we try. So it's possible that some things which Plotnicki (or Wilfrid) cannot acquire an appreciation for, nevertheless still "taste good". And I suppose you'd relate that back to the judgment of experienced gourmets?

Happens a lot, and may be a symptom of comulsive-obsessive behavior on my part. Hunan Chicken at the Malaysia Restaurant; Tete de veau, sauce gribiche at L'Absinthe (now off the menu, I believe); Jamon de pulpo (or lambi) at Vesuvio (in Santo Domingo); Blood pudding at Chez Josephine; Panna cotta with balsamic vinegar at San Domenico (they now serve a tamer version with a fruit coulis); Either corned beef or pastrami sandwich at Katz's; and it looks like the gratin des fruits de mer at Le Pigalle in London is coming along in the same way.

Well, I was with Jaybee, and ate different dishes, and came to the same conclusion. Also, that was the only time I have been to USC, so I am not going to generalize. What struck me from Steven's report was how little interest I have in eating any of the dishes he described, loving though his portraits were. A steak sandwich? A tuna burger? Yawn. I recall AHR raving about the calamari too, though, so there must be something in it. None of which is to be snide, but just to reflect on how very wide ranging food interests and expectations are amongst us. I expect I would enjoy a middling performance by Bergougnoux at L'Absinthe more than a successful performance by the USC kitchen. Personal preferences are not to be discounted.

We were talking about taste memory on another thread, and this is a good example of how shaky it is. I know I have drunk Brakspear bitter many times, but I have no fresh recollection of how much I liked it. I'll miss the name. Cute name.

I wonder if there are similar physiological variations between individuals when it comes to olfactory receptors. I shouldn't be surprised.

"A good food writer should be able to challenge her readers to stretch their tastes, to try new things..." Like Fat Bloke turning me on to Halal Chinese, right? Seriously, good post, JD, and nicely makes the distinction between educating people and informing them that they are wrong.

There I disagree. What about the entrance at the top of the Ramblas, for example. All escalators, and not only going down, surely. I want to go to Barcelona right now.

We are making some useful distinctions here today. I agree that it is possible to have a fairly good intellectual understanding of something, but remain unmoved by it. Easy to give examples from the world of art, but I think it applies to the world of gastronomy too. It's a quite different matter to have no appreciation for something because it is not understood, or because one's taste has not been appropriately educated. Steve P., for example, certainly understands Californian pinot noirs, but his appreciation of them is limited. On the other hand, he utterly dislikes British food, but has no clear idea of what it is.

2 is the hard palate, 4 is the soft palate, and 1 is more or less where olfaction takes place. 3 we like to eat boiled with a nice caper sauce.

Chewing. I think you're right about two things, anyway. There should be two i's in "Plotnickiism", and ballet is an utter mystery. Modern dance I get, but ballet - sorry, no. And, as you imply, it doesn't mean it's crap - just that I haven't grasped it (or really tried to).

Plotnicki - You've only been drinking wine for ten years? My first surprise of the day on eGullet, and probably not my last. I know two brothers who share a lot of tastes. But one has lived most of his adult life in France, the other in England. The former prefers French wines, and fines New World wines sweet and gluey. The latter prefers Australian/New World and Italian wines, and finds French wines dull and tasteless. In the 1980s and 1990s, good French wines were over-priced in England in comparison to wines from Australia and other countries, which explains the UK-based brother's tastes. Swap their locales, and their tastes would swap too, I swear. So custom has a lot to do with it as well as education. Having lived both in the UK, and in the States, where French wines are more fairly priced, I appreciate a range of styles. In moderation, of course.

Can I just throw in the basic physiology, as usual, because it might help keep things clear: The hard and soft palate don't have anything to do with taste or smell, although of course they sense heat, texture and what one might call "mouthfeel" or "body" (I am thinking of the difference in "body" between a liquid like water and a liquid like milkshake). The basic elements of taste - sweet, salt, bitter, sour, and probably some others - are detected by receptors on the tongue. But the tongue can't do anything more subtle than that. The fine distinctions of taste are made by "olfaction" - essentially the detection of volatile and semi-volatile chemicals by receptors in that cavity back up there behind your nose. This is why getting a headcold blunts our response to flavor. Then, of course, there's smelling, which is a kind of external olfaction. And on the main question, a lot of sense has been talked already. Let me just hazard that I think education plays a role in developing a palate in the second sense beyond just education (training) of the palate itself. I think learning about food and cooking influences gustatory appreciation. Understanding dishes is often an important part of enjoying them.

Yes, Peter, I don't think it has anything to do with "rights" either. I think it is about ignorance and education, but only up to a point. There are cultures where meat is never, and I mean never eaten rare. Someone raised in such a culture is revolted by rare meat. Now, they might gradually learn to love it, but there is no point forcing it on them, and certainly no point "educating themn", in the sense of explaining to them that it tastes better. They will listen to your argument, try it, and then throw up. I speak from personal experience. However, once you take your pick, you take the consequences. I sat opposite someone (an American) in a restaurant last week who ordered the strip steak medium, then said it was dry. He didn't complain, and just as well. If you like well-cooked beef, you must accept that your beef is going to be somewhat dry. The family in Adam's original example should have been educated about that fact - politely. Again, I speak from personal experience. I often order well-done beef in restaurants (not for myself), and a good waiter will say "You do realise that will be a little dry. Is that okay?" P.S. Macrosan - I know what you mean about Nico's behavior, but he never went out of business.

I have eaten at your restaurant several times, and enjoyed the food very much. I associate your cuisine with delicacy and subtlety - the poached duck breast, the slow-cooked fish filets, the velvety saucing. But I am left wondering about more powerful flavors and more challenging textures. Is there a danger that cuisine in New York, at your high level, could become over-refined? Or are those considerations out of place when it comes to your style of cooking? Or am I overlooking all kinds of smokiness, spiciness, crunchiness and chewiness on your menu? Thanks.

I think it's widely recognised that Soyer used to stir left handed, with his mixing bowl upside down. Horrendous mess, but what a wrist.

But those are fair points. And you don't have to be a new user to be pretty weary of it all. Don't forget the bickering too.

Depends on where you're standing, doesn't it. I have been through long periods of not wearing a tie (academia), wearing one (work) and then not wearing one again (business "casual"). I usually then do the opposite in my social behavior. I enjoy putting on a suit and tie in the evening, now, just because it's the only opportunity to do so.