Dave the Cook

Thanks -- that's a question I had been meaning to ask. Now that I've moved into a house, I've got more room for new stuff (but less $!). Greene's was fantastically cheap in Columbia SC, but not here... ← Overall, the best prices in Atlanta are out at Total Wine in Kennesaw. There are two complicating factors, though, and I don't think they're unique to the ATL. First, no store has everything. Total Wine has cheap popular gin, cognac, scotch, applejack and rum. But they don't have Laird's Bonded, Junipero, or anything from Marie Brizard. So you go to Pearson's. That brings up the second factor: prices are variable and hard to track. At Pearson's, you find that Cointreau is only two bucks more than MB: no contest there (but how much was Cointreau at Total Wine?). And they have Carpano Antica, Laird's Bonded and even though you're buying Cointreau instead of MB's triple sec, you want the MB Apry and Grand Orange (because the differential between it and Grand Marnier isn't as advantageous as the Cointreau thing). Since you're close by anyway, you might as well head down Piedmont to Tower, where they have Junipero, Rothman and Winter Creme de Violette and Michter's rye. Then it's over to Mac's at 10th and West Peachtree, where there's a reliable stash of yellow chartreuse, Boomsma and Vya. Finally, you find yourself headed north on Peachtree, trying to remember how to get on the connector. And look -- there's Holeman and Finch! You're worn out from shopping. Might as well drink someone else's liquor this evening, because tomorrow, all the prices and availability will have changed.

Yeah, I think we're all talking about the same place. It's neither Ranch 66 nor Market 99, it's 99 Ranch.

I'd start at that Buford Highway shopping center anchored by the Ranch 66, where there's a Vietnamese deli. I suggest that not because I've tried it (I haven't), but because 1) on a recent drive by, it was the only "banh mi" sign I saw, and 2) it's roughly in the center of the area, so you can work outward from there. Please report back!

Over in the Champagne Cocktails topic, Janet described a very tasty, low-alcohol bitters showcase:

Isn't there a pork cheek recipe in the Babbo cookbook?

As a serious cook, I feel obliged to like knives, and as a guy, I'm attracted to bright shiny objects the way pre-schoolers flock to Crocs. But if you'd told me two weeks ago that I could read 230 pages about them and not only not be bored, but change the way I think about knives, I'd have laughed. The joke's on me. An Edge in the Kitchen is a fascinating book, full of useful, sometimes esoteric information, pulled off with humor and style. It's also fearless, presenting what could have been a wonk-fest without condescension, and bucking myths as easily and clearly as a cat registers disdain. Ward made me a fan right from the start: It's arch, a bit snide in a "we're on the same side so it's okay to talk this way" manner; it echoes Alton Brown, not to mention that the full passage is reminiscent of Michael Crichton's better litanies. And then Ward takes you step-by-step through the whole process: metal, manufacture, methods. He scolds. When discussing knife-set bread knives, he points out that "(s)errated knives are not delicate tools and certainly don't need to cost as much as your chef's knife. They are the plastic ballpoint pens of the knife world, cheap and interchangeable. Just don't expect much of them and you'll be happy." He debunks: "The commonly recommended dilute bleach solutions are not as effective on wood cutting boards. Wood boards neutralize the free oxygen in bleach, negating its germ-fighting abilities. Vinegar works on every ttype of board." He befriends with confession. By the time you reach the Hair Test on page 184 ("Don't shave the back of your head. Just pull down gently to see if the edge catches and tugs. I don't want any irate calls from your barber, hairstylist or spouse"), you suspect that exactly that might have happened, maybe more than once. It's hard to disagree with the facts that Ward lays out, and the recipes, designed to sharpen (sorry, couldn't resist) knife skills look worthy and tasty. Where I part company with him is in the area of judgement calls: I tell beginners that a utility knife is more useful than a parer; I don't chop (and don't teach chopping) onions the way he does. These are picky, though. By the time you get through the book, you'll know enough to make your own decisions, and the confidence to act on them. Which leads me back to the way I think about knives. Ward is so successful at his job that they start to seem alive. I subscribe to the custom of an afternoon cocktail (okay, two), and to make a cocktail, you gotta cut some citrus. In my rush to imbibe, I fell into the habit of leaving the knife on the cutting board between drinks. Two days after reading An Edge in the Kitchen, I saw that poor parer, its stunning VG-10, 17-degree edge being eaten microscopically away by citric acid. I immediately washed it, dried it and put it in its rack. The next day, I bought a Kyocera ceramic -- easier to change knives than change this particular habit. Although the author is doubtful about ceramics in general, I learned enough about them from reading his book that I was able to pick out the perfect tool for my purpose. My little Shun owes its life to Chad Ward.

A scraper is a decent spatula. Special cleaners amount to Bon Ami or Bar Keeper's Friend, which you already have around. You can get more specialized, but you don't have to. I bought a putty knife, and I like the jeweler's rouge sort-of stuff that Weiman makes, but neither is essential. And it's not like gas ranges don't benefit from oddments like stainless steel sponges and ammonia. If you've got one of those gas ranges with grates that look like they're carved out of raw iron ore, you can't put a pot back on it, either. Those grates (which you have to wait on while they absorb heat before letting the pot or pan get some) hang on to BTUs like Bret Favre at Lambeau Field in deep December. Electric or gas, the solution is simple: put the pot somewhere else. I have no comeback for this except that, in the cheap-to-moderate price range, electric ranges have much better broilers. Draw up a couple of stools, open the door and toast some marshmallows. At least you won't have to lie on the floor to do it.

See, I would mind a gas range. I was in the same situation as you -- a condo without a gas hookup. As it turns out, the furnace is gas, and we could have brought the line outside the house to the kitchen (lots of people in the complex have done this). But I didn't know that (actually, hadn't thought about it) at the time, so I went electric. I'm not going back; you'll have to pry my range out of my cold, dead Orkas. It's faster to heat under real working conditions and way easier to clean (not to mention you can tell when it's clean) than most consumer-level gas cooktops, and gets every bit as hot. Also: no hot spots.

Good point. I've had about a 50% success rate with special orders, so I've adopted a more strategic approach in addition: contacting liquor companies and importers directly. In the case of Luxardo Maraschino, for example, I sent an email to Preiss, and struck up a lengthy electronic conversation with a guy there. Luxardo had fallen between the cracks in a distributor buyout. But between me (and you, too, Lan4Dawg, as well as a number of professional bartenders who were tired of bootlegging it in) running around town asking for Maraschino, and the Preiss dude being able to point to that as a sign of demand, we finally got it back on the shelves. This also worked to a lesser extent with Laird's Bonded Apple Brandy. At Tales of the Cocktail last year, I cornered Lisa Laird and asked her why it wasn't available in Georgia. She didn't duck. She just said, "I'll make it happen." A couple of months later, it did. (Next up: Lemon Heart Demerara Rum.)

Cook's Warehouse has palm sugar. I ended up doing a lot of the shopping for Janet's class: I never found yuzu juice -- where in Super H Mart is it, Doodad? (We subbed lemon and lime juice; no one complained.) DFM told me that they usually have it fresh, but didn't at the time. Hon shimeji mushrooms are at pretty much every Asian store in the city (and I went to a lot of Asian stores). A chef lent us some micro-celery. DFM had kaffir lime leaves -- they were in little deli containers near the Thai chiles.

Without dismissing what Dougal wrote in praise of induction, I don't think there's any reason to hang one's head for buying a good ceramic-topped range. I've had one for two and half years, and it's easily the best range I've ever used (the list of ranges I've had experience on is long and broad). Especially if you've got less than $2000 to spend on a range, I believe ceramic-topped electric is your best choice.

Chad has kindly consented to let us subject him to questions on both this excerpt and his book, which, by the way, is exceptional. The floor is open! P.S. If you want to buy it, please use this Society-friendly Amazon link: An Edge in the Kitchen.

Tri2Cook is right: any serious cook needs On Food and Cooking. If you don't have it, get it. Read it. Memorize large sections. I'd also suggest you check out Tom Colicchio's Think Like a Chef and the Bittman-Vongerichten collaboration Simple to Spectacular.

Call me Amireaux and sign me up. What is this meal called brunch that you people eat? ← Given Janet's correct appraisal: Chris's quote is astounding. The apotheosis of brunch is served at none other than Antoine's -- maybe more Creole than Cajun, but New Orleans to the core. Not just Eggs Benedict, but Eggs Sardou and Eggs Florentine. And no cinnamon-candied apples, even on the dessert menu. This is brunch.

Let's have an experiment. Who here has both gas and charcoal grills?

As someone who doesn't much care for bourbon, I wasn't expecting to like the Bloodhound. It seemed like the St, Germain would just add sweet on sweet, but instead, it makes the sweet more interesting, and worthy of a try. The effect of the Peychaud's on the nose is a great effect, and tones the sweetness at first. With a bit more grapefruit than called for (or maybe a touch of lemon), I like it a lot.

I don't own it, and therefore haven't cooked from it, but I've browsed (heavily) James Peterson's Fish & Shellfish: The Definitive Cook's Companion. It seems like just what you're after.

Odd that Bobby Flay would miss a chance to add chiles! Thanks for the coffee reminder. When I'm making a chile stew, I add some brewed coffee; it adds roundness and a nice bitter edge. I keep meaning to try it in a rub, but it never occurs to me at the proper moment. For beef (back ribs, short ribs, steaks) I use a simple combination of salt, ancho, white pepper and powdered sugar, filled out with a neutral paprika. Rub them an hour or two before cooking -- the salt brings out the water-soluble proteins, which mix with the seasonings.

This seems like a great place to try the Blumenthal-McGee batter recipe. It's got terrific staying power in terms of crunchiness -- I've even reheated fish the next day and it maintained its texture.

Doesn't charcoal trap volatile organics? If that's true (I'm going on memory here, so I could well be wrong), charcoal is the last thing you want to use, isn't it?

I use mostly dry rubs. Two in particular are worth mentioning here. The first is based on (believe it or not) a Joy of Cooking recipe: 4 t sweet paprika 3 t ancho 3 t brown sugar 2 t kosher salt 1 t cumin 1/2 t white pepper 1/2 dried oregano 1/4 t mace 1/8 t cayenne This gets used for pork especially (it's my go-to for baby backs and spares), but it works well on chicken and salmon, too. For the salmon, I like to butter filets, then pack the rub on and fry in a very hot pan -- a less-messy variation on Prudhomme's blackened fish. The other is jerk, more or less, but certain household dietary issues prevent me from using fresh really hot peppers (or even coarsely ground black pepper), so I've toned it down: 4 parts allspice 3 parts cinnamon 2 parts ground thyme 1 part white pepper 1 part kosher salt 1/2 part sugar This works on pork and chicken, but its highest and best use is as follows: 1. Brine chicken wings (1/2 C Diamond Crystal Kosher salt to one quart water) for two-three hours. 2. Remove wings from brine, pat dry, and allow to air-dry on racks for two hours. 3. Cold-smoke the wings over fruitwood for three hours. Remove from smoker and sprinkle generously with rub. 4. Roast wings at 250F for 45 minutes. 5. Increase oven temperature to 375 F. Once you reach temperature, roast for 15 more minutes, or until skin is brown and brittle.

Are we talking about this book? If so, I think it's pretty solid, though not without flaws. I gave a brief report here.

When I first discovered cocktails, I scoured Atlanta for Punt e Mes, Carpano, Junipero, Rittenhouse Rye . . . My best find was six dusty bottles of Luxardo Maraschino at their original price (about $19, as I recall). Hesitating, I bought two. Three days later, I went back and bought the rest. A year and a half later, Maraschino is widely available in the ATL, but I'm seeing signs of shortages of Landy VS Cognac, Laird's Bonded Apple Brandy, and Citadelle Gin (who also makes Landy's). It's a neverending story.

Yes, it's about keeping the meat from drying out or absorbing flavors from other stuff in the fridge. But for a couple of hours, he effect is negligible. Save your plastic.

Depends on the heat-level of the chili, I think. But generally, I've found that young reds work pretty well with spicy food: Australian shiraz or grenache (or a blend of the two). Sometimes you can find a dry-but-not-too-dry riesling that works, and a rose (or sparkling rose wine) is worth a try.