Dave the Cook

Comparisons with Craftbar, Hearth and Cafe Gray are mostly beside the point to me -- I'm not a New Yorker -- and I don't know how you can locate Bouley Upstairs and Alinea on the same culinary/price-point/dining-experience map without a slide rule and a tesseract. Bouley Upstairs is successful, in a way, because it doesn't give a damn about any of those places, or about any trend. In the lingo of my generation (decidedly boomer), it's hip because it doesn't care about what's hip. I disagree with Steven that it's in touch with any particular demographic; it's simply in touch with what it wants to be. Deal with it on its terms, rather than the preconceptions that we carry around like a sack of overripe fruit, and it can be a singular experience. I don't really care about the Gen X-ers at the next table, or why they're there, though there are less expensive, more ostensibly comfortable choices for dinner -- so why choose this place? It's for the food. Over the course of a five-day stay in Manhattan, I ate at the Bar at the Modern, the Bread Bar at Tabla, Country, New Green Bo and Eleven Madison Park. While I remember all of them for various reasons (most notably, a meal-long service fiasco at the Modern), the only one I remember simply because of the food is Bouley Upstairs. It's for the atmosphere. The cooks are in your space, and so is the preparation of your meal. When squid or cod hits the plancha, the room fills with fish funk, then it dissipates; the same goes for the burgers and the occasional steak. It's not unpleasant at all; it's like sitting across the kitchen island while your best friend (if your best friend keeps two dozen half-liter saucepans on the flattop and whisks like a dervish without apparent provocation) composes your meal. It's for the energy. If you're a Gen X-er, being in a noisy room of peers is comforting (I say that as someone who was obviously the oldest person in the room). If you're interested in food, the continuous culinary exhibition (including even the mostly idle sushi chefs) and dynamic service ballet are fascinating and astounding. But really, it should be for the food. To add some specific notes: the sauces with the oysters were tomato-horseradish, yuzu vinaigrette and a mixed (heavy on the pink, as I recall) pepper mignonette. The yuzu was particularly good at enhancing rather than masking the oysters. The sauce with the shrimp was a tomato-water broth, heavy on the pepper (Chef Pechous is neither shy nor unskilled with black pepper, something that's apparent in several dishes.) The cod that Steven described is easily the best dish I've had this year, if not in the last twelve months; research suggests that it was Seranno ham rather than prosciutto in the accompanient, but what matters is that it was thinly sliced cured pork, crisped to perfection, and that the presentation didn't sacrifice the texture. The lamb was easily comparable in success to lamb that I had last year at ADNY. I don't think the sauce was a straight reduction; I think it was a more or less classic demiglace supplemented with a reduction. Let's call it lamb syrup (Steven's description). The fruit soup was predominantly blood orange. Of the four desserts, only the brulee was on the menu. We can cavil over the bread or wine programs (they're both deficient, but that's mostly -- especially with the bread -- a comparative evaluation), and we can say that the service is idiosyncratic. Sure, I'd like a better list and a better selection from what's downstairs in the bakery (which tantalizes you while you wait), but what comes to the table is more than adequate, as is the waitstaff. It might not be what you have come to believe is appropriate at this -- or any -- price point, and you can say that what goes on at Bouley Upstairs isn't normal, but it works, undeniably, even if it's not what you expect. (Okay, the coffee really is at best okay; no excuses there.)

The room is great: nearly perfect proportions, and nicely broken up in a way that makes good use of the volume, rather than coming across as a disguise for a warehouse. My only complaint, and it's a small one, is that if you're facing the kitchen (I was), the opening and closing doors create a bit of a flashbulb effect. I thought I would get used to it, but we had an early reservation, and as the place got busier, the flashing just got more intrusive. (I'm guessing that only about four seats in the whole place are subjected to this effect.) I can't comment on the development of the restaurant; this was my first visit (I wish I'd had a chance to try the pea flan). I agree with Steven that Chef Humm is extrememly talented. What still sticks in my mind is a tiny carrot-shaped package of sweetbreads wrapped in something like a wonton skin (it had a phyllo-like texture, but I'm pretty sure you can't manipulate phyllo the way this was). It was a perfect little capsule that demonstrated sophisticated and accomplished mastery of flavor, texture and technique. Of the four desserts at the table, I thought only one would be worth $16, but that brings up something I found odd about the whole dessert menu. Based on the description of this particular dish (Chocolate Peanut Tart with Peanut Butter Caramel and Brandied Cherry Chip Ice Cream), I wouldn't have ordered it. When it arrived, it wasn't even remotely tart-like; it was constructed as a candy bar. Likewise, the "'Exotique' Almond Bisquit with Ivoire Chocolate and Exotic Fruit" was a nearly complete mismatch for what came out on the plate -- an almost incomprehensible assembly that was almost impossible to eat in a way that did justice to what seemed to be excellent ingredients and skillful preparation. The mignardises were, um, disappointing. Dead-nuts on.

There are two reasons the stock doesn't gel. The first is because it's not being simmered long enough for full collagen conversion from the particular bones being used -- KensethFan says he simmers about about two hours. Different bones will render differently, but certainly, four hours would be better, and eight probably wouldn't be too long. The signal that you've got complete conversion is when you can break the bones with a pair of tongs. Bones contain collagen, too; when it's gone, the bones lose their resiliency, and that's as far as you should go. The second reason is the ratio of bones and meat to water. If there's too much water, you won't get gel. Two pounds of meaty bones, simmered sufficiently, will yield about one quart of good stock. I weigh my bones, jot a note, then make the stock. After straining and defatting, I measure. If I've got more than the target volume (I almost always do, because there's no reason not to be generous with water while simmering), I reduce. Upon chilling, gel occurs, without fail -- the degree varies according to the parts used. (I use half wings and half legs -- purchased on sale and frozen -- plus whatever backs and such I accumulate between sesions.)

In most Buffalo-style preparations, the crispy-skin superiority of the flat is compromised by over-saucing, macho-heat-level glazes, or both. This is especially true when you get wings at a restaurant. So while in a straighforward joint-to-joint comparison (say, both roasted plain) it's clear to me that flats win. But in the context we're using, it's a much more difficult comparison. Unless you're in a really good wing joint or you're making them yourself, it's down to meat of the drum vs. the gelatin of the flat, when it comes to pure sense experience. But then, the flat is so much more fun to eat.

Though I agree that it will make a better stock, I doubt that roasting has any effect on collagen-gelatin conversion.

Marlene's right. Nice job, KensethFan! But . . . your chicken stock should be turning out the same way. Maybe we can help you improve it?

I always thought it was catch-as-catch-can in the wing lottery. But recently, while waiting at a wings place for a cheesesteak (somewhere in eG Forums, there's an axiom about how the best thing on the menu is often something other than what a restaurant is known for; it's true at this place), I noticed that you could get all flats or all drums for a small upcharge. Now that I've taken notice, I see this all the time: a buck an order, or a flat percentage (5% seems most common) gets you your choice of parts. Let's talk about the relative merits of the cuts -- but most importantly, let's weigh in on our preferences: meaty drummette or succulent forearm?

It's a food mill, and it's very useful, though as far as I know, it can't peel strawberries.

If it smells okay, it probably is. Between the salt in the soy and the acid in the lime juice, you've got some powerful preservatives working for you. No guarantees on the taste.

Cabs from the airport are reliable; getting back, not so much. From College Park you'd probably be okay; otherwise, you as a tourist are as likely to know how to get somewhere as your driver will be. But as long as you're thinking about getting on the train, each successive stop takes just a few minutes. So bypass downtown and wait until either the Midtown (Ecco is 2 blocks away) or Arts Center stations (Table 1280, one block; Trois two blocks; Shout two blocks). If you've got a full three hours and you're feeling lucky, transfer to the East line and ride to the Inman Park station. Shaun's is a block away. If you stay in the airport, I agree with therese -- Paschal's.

I'm talking about time. It's a little quicker for me in absolute terms, plus it's one less tool to get out, wash and replace. (I find that swivel-bladed parers are really fast for peeling carrots because you can flick-flick-flick to peel carrots, but for cucumbers you have to slow way down to peel the individual strips.) In terms of waste, at this point I'm probably wasting more with the knife than with a peeler, however that's going to change eventually. ← But you don't wash your peeler. You drop it in the dishwasher basket. If you're doing the flick-flick-flick number on carrots, you're less than agile with a very useful tool. It seems to me that if you took half the time that you're spending getting your chef's knife to do something that it's not designed to do and worked with your peeler instead, you'd gain both superior peeling results and more time -- not to mention more usable food.

Steven, please explain how you are measuring efficiency.

I agree, Daniel. I can confirm that this works: http://forums.egullet.org/index.php?showtopic=36534

You call it schnitzel. The name I know is Supreme de Vollaile Anglaise -- the first dish I made from Pierre Franey's incomparable 60-Minute Gourmet. The lemon is essential, and a revelation. I'll never forget the day I took one of my boys to McDonalds and offered him a slice of lemon, swiped from the iced tea setup, in exchange for whatever sticky-sweet packet was being offered with McNuggets that week. To this day, he still tries whatever the current offering is, but always asks for a few lemon slices, just in case, and often uses them. Regardless, inspired by your post, tonight I made Halibut Schnitzel, jazzing the breading up with home-made sausage and ground smoked almonds. Lemon slices on the side, of course. technically, "cracked ugly-ass linoleum" aka "objectively an excellent flooring material."

The Daily Gullet is proud to kick off an occasional value-added thang -- The Saturday Night Special. Think of it as a fabulous lagniappe, something you’ll check into after a Saturday night at Alinea, Bob’s Subs and Cones, or a merry night at home performing unnatural acts with pasta, the Bradley smoker, or twenty feet of hog casing. Maybe you’ll pull it up on Sunday morning after the coffeecake at church and before your bagel and lox. It will kick off with a true serial -- four excerpts from Jay Rayner’s soon-to-be-published thriller The Oyster House Siege. Down the road it might be a literary pre-sleep mignardise, or a confessional suitable for the Sabbath -- much depends on submissions. The Special is written in blancmange. Saturday night doesn’t have to be the loneliest night of the week. Check out the first special right here.

Butter. It needs to be butter. ← Pam, I agree in principle, but what the hey? Let's give Crisco a chance at least once. ← Crisco was de rigeur growing up -- at least until tub margarine came along. These days I keep softened butter standing by and that's the standard. Should I lapse, though, Crisco is the fallback (well, unless I have chicken or duck fat at hand). At some base level, fat is fat.

Prices are steady here in Atlanta, too, for the time being. It's not clear to me that there's actually going to be a shortage. More likely is a steep price increase. We export significant quantity of citrus to Japan. If those contracts are nullified by force majeur, what's left of the California crop could stay in the States. Mexico provides a lot of the winter citrus supply, as does Spain, and (prepare to cringe) Iran is a major lemon producer that might be tapped, if politics don't get in the way. If prices get high enough to cover transport, we'll probably be okay.

Mike, not to discourage you from enjoying Brooks's fine hospitality (or Dean's largesse, should your visits coincide), but in the Atlanta area, DeKalb Farmers' Market often has live crawfish, as do the two Harry's locations.

An informative piece in the Atlanta Journal-Constitution (here, free registration required), Edge talks to once-and-always Alabamian LeNell Smothers (proprietress of LeNell's: A Wine and Spirits Boutique in Red Hook), then heads south to profile Phil Prichard: Along the way, Edge finds time for Elmer T. Lee (Blanton's) and Julian Van Winkle (Pappy Van Winkle) and investigates a new generation of Southern spirits, few of which recall moonshine: Some of these concepts ring hollow (water from Montgomery?) and Edge himself says, "New Southern spirits now debut with some frequency. Many aim for terroir, for geographical and cultural specificity, but settle for solutions that are, at best, imperfect, at worst, gimmicky." Still, sorghum rum sounds interesting, and muscadine-vodka might be worth a try. Mesquite-mellowed whiskey . . . not so sure.

This won't help clear things up a bit, but in Atlanta, a half-pound box is two four-ounce sticks. I'm not sure what size household they're anticipating; the packaging has no familial directives.

The discussion on this topic seems to have run its course, so we're closing it. New topics on the relative value of food discussion sites are welcome, as long as they: remain civil; focus on content rather than the personalities of those involved; and avoid speculation about administrative issues, whether it relates to eG Forums or anywhere else. Thanks.

Another approach is Paul Prudhomme's: shallow fry in about 1/4-inch of 350 F oil, two to three minutes per side. This works very well for thin filets.

I find that either way works, but you'll get the best results if you rinse in plain water, pat the skin dry and set the bird on a rack in the refrigerator for several hours (even over night) before roasting. This ensures that the skin is really dry. (You can also use a hair dryer set on low, in a pinch.)

Since becoming the proud owner of a Bradley Smoker, I've been experimenting with cold-smoking various cheeses. I have two things to contribute here. First, avoid the swiss cheeses -- Emmenthaler, Gruyere and the like. If you can imagine a slab of fatty, moist cardboard, you're closely approximating the result. Second, and more on-topic, milder, less expensive cheeses seem to do best. The store-brand block of yellow cheddar was much tastier than an expensive aged white.

Every pot and pan in the Demeyere Scirocco has cast and welded stainless steel handles. The line includes both single-gauge and fully clad pieces. Sitram (except, I think, for the Cucina line) and a few of the Demeyere lines have tubular handles, all welded. The tubular constuction is no doubt lighter, as you aver. (I'd argue that these are actually superior handles, but that's for another topic.) I'm not that large, but I'd put my clumsiness up against yours any day! I still have a couple of those original Cuisinart pieces. The wooden parts of the handles don't look so great, but the welds are just fine. How old is that stuff? Close to 20 years, I think. Um. Everything Demeyere makes has a stainless-steel exterior. Except for their pressure cookers, the same is true of everything Sitram makes at the comsumer level. I'm sure you're onto something here. It's amusing that this image of "professional" cookware mostly likely comes from famous chefs using consumer-level All-Clad on TV shows. The smartest thing All-Clad ever did was to ship tons of their product to the Food Network. There's nothing lightweight about Demeyere or Sitram cookware. I'd venture to say that, pan for pan, if All-Clad is heavier, the difference is probably roughly equal to the weight of . . . the rivets (Falk, using all that copper, isn't eligible for this contest). I have a 9-quart Sitram sauce pot with, yes, a welded handle. It would have been nice had they included a helper handle, but they didn't, and if the weld breaks, they'll replace the pot for as long as I'm alive. Or you could just return it for repair or replacement.I'm amused by the excuses made for one of Janet's original complaints: "They collect crud; they make it impossible to cleanly scrape the inside of the pan." Sure, you can pull out the Easy-Off, apply extra elbow grease or sacrifice a fingernail to the cause. But why would you want to?