John Rosevear

Sparrowgrass, I recently got a bag of Penzey's bay leaves, and they're far and away the most aromatic (and best-tasting) dried bay leaves I've ever had, much better than the ones I used to get from a local foodie shop (which were probably from Frontier co-op, now that I think about it). Maybe you got a bad batch?

92... but we culled over 100 others before moving last year, so I'm not sure that's really an accurate picture. About 30 of those get used at least once every few months. I also have another 15 or so cocktail books -- are we counting those?

Personally, I think a copy of The New Best Recipe and a subscription to cooksillustrated.com (which is the only elegant way to get around the Kimball Empire's most maddening problem, lousy indexing) is the best way to go. I haven't found any of the other books particularly worthwhile.

The Chicken Tikka Masala tastes disturbingly like a curry I often make ("disturbingly" because making mine is a 2-3 hour process involving lots of toasting and grinding of spices and whatnot). It's very good; my only complaint was that portions were a bit skimpy.

I confess that I love (Heide) Jujubes, the nasty-chewy things in the green box. They lack the overmanipulated atomic-powered artificial intensity of more modern creations like Starbursts, which is a beautiful thing. I'll vote for Oreos too, though back when I could eat gluten I was a fan of Pepperidge Farm cookies -- Milanos and Brussels in particular. My first Orange Milano, many years ago when I was young, was a revelation. Wonderful with tea in the afternoon. Does ice cream count? The consistent mass-produced perfection of the core Haagen-Dazs flavors still amazes me, and should amaze anyone of a certain age who was raised on stuff like Sealtest in the half-gallon cartons. Simple and brilliant.

The Camparis are very different from the picture-perfect-but-flavorless vine tomatoes that have shown up everywhere in recent years. The ones I've had are smaller than typical beefsteak-ish supermarket tomatoes, come packed in clear plastic boxes, and have great flavor. I generally prefer the "Ugly-Ripes" when I need a supermarket tomato, but the Camparis are very good, though expensive.

Our dinner was 9 courses, if memory serves, not counting amuse-bouche and whatnot -- but it was very well paced and portioned. I ate a normal lunch beforehand and a normal breakfast the next morning, as did at least two of my four dinner companions, and we had a considerable amount of wine, but we all did fine.

As a professional (not food) writer, I'll say that the comment about practicing writing and learning the business is absolutely spot-on. If you want to be a writer, you should write -- often (like daily), for an audience -- a blog is the perfect way to do that. At the same time, a blog is a lousy way to try to make a living -- but a good blog can serve as a springboard for a paying gig, because the first thing a buyer of writing will want to see is your other published work. There will always be a market for high-quality, professional nonfiction writing from a knowledgeable source -- all of those web pundits saying that "content is king" are talking about us. The trick with food writing, as with so many other love-driven subjects, is that there are many more aspirants than there are paying gigs, and many of the other folks can write quite well. That's why knowing the business, knowing how to query, knowing where the markets are and what they want and being willing and able to give them what they want in a polished way are all so important -- those things are what separate the dreamers (even the talented ones) from the working pros.

Really, it works fine, though depending on your preferred time/temp combination you may need to make some small adjustments. The parchment scorches a bit on the stone but the resulting product (which in my kitchen at least is NOT cracker thin) is great, and if you miss having corngrit stuck in your teeth it's easy enough to scatter some on the parchment under the dough.

Lay out the crust on baking parchment. Works beautifully on a pizza stone or oven rack, as you prefer, and makes moving the pizza on and off the peel extremely simple.

Right now I'm drinking a Wibble, which was created by Dick Bradsell to promote Plymouth's sloe gin: As I made it: 1 oz Plymouth gin 1 oz Plymouth sloe gin 1 oz grapefruit juice 1/4 oz lemon juice 1/4 oz creme de mure (I used Massenez) 1/8 oz simple syrup Shake and strain into a cocktail glass. Very nice knife-edge balance of tart and sweet.

It's usually very simple, as fried rice is usually a quick lunch or side dish in my house: chopped scallions, wok-scrambled eggs, ordinary white rice (cold, a bit dry), light soy sauce, and a bit of Maggi, which I started adding ages ago when I was trying to duplicate a restaurant's recipe. (These days I use a bit of La Choy soy sauce instead -- it's a horrible soy sauce, but a pretty good gluten-free substitute for Maggi). If I have Chinese sausage I'll add some, and sometimes I do a yang chow-ish variant with shrimp and peas and whatnot, and sometimes I use rice that was cooked in a Chinese-style chicken stock or take a Thai approach with fish sauce etc., but the above is what I do most of the time.

I've had several great meals at No. 9 Park and one or two better-than-great ones. It's my favorite place in Boston for that kind of restaurant experience -- and as Chris said, the bar is excellent.

Miss D, I ate at PS for the first time a couple of nights ago. I'll post more details this weekend, but I wanted to say this: I have celiac disease and thus need gluten-free food. The person who made the reservation mentioned it when she called to confirm the reservation a few days before. After we had been seated and had discussed wine and such, someone asked us about allergies and preferences. I mentioned my gluten issue and she smiled and said, "Yes, your bread's in the oven." It was all beautifully handled and seamless, and the alternatives they brought me were excellent -- so much so that we joked that we should all make up different allergies next time so as to see what amazing treats the kitchen could improvise. (Not that we would actually do this, of course, but it was a fun idea.) So here are my two pieces of advice: First, do tell them beforehand. And second, if while you are there anyone asks you something like, "Would you prefer X or Y or would you just like the kitchen to come up with something for you?"... choose the latter option. The dessert choices when we were there were PB&J and something else, I told them I'd go with whatever the kitchen thought best, and they presented me with an amazing gluten-free version of TFL's Coffee & Doughnuts. Very nicely done.

I meant "old-school" as a modifier to the word "cocktail", not "bar".

sethd: Yes, very true. But I'd like to be prepared for the possibility... I don't get to the city very often these days, and I want to get my evening's worth of it. Christopher: It sounds like a cab to the East Village will be the way to go if we decide to do this. Thanks very much.

The situation: A group of old friends, all serious foodies and all from out of town, in NYC together for an evening. They have early reservations for dinner at Per Se (and will be dressed accordingly). They want a great old-school-cocktail bar or two to go to after dinner. They could cab down to someplace like Death & Co or PDT, but if there are similar (or better) options closer by the restaurant, they'd like to know about them. Being 40something-year-old people of some sophistication, they'd prefer to stay away from the hip-and-loud places. They will probably want to be back at their hotel (in midtown) by midnight-ish as they'll be flying out early the next day. It's a weeknight. Where do they go?

I know very little about fine teas, but a friend recently brought me a lovely tea from Beijing that she described as "Dragon Pearl Jasmine with Rose". It was lovely -- green tea pearls with bits of rose petal visible, and a wonderful nose and flavor. I'm drinking the last of it now. Here's a photo of the label. What is (was) this and where can I get more? (EDIT: Or something similar?)

I also use a chef's knife for most of the things listed, but the scissors always come out for spatchcocking -- and for cutting string when I'm tying roasts or trussing birds for the rotisserie.

I am no cognac expert, but I've had a few bottles from Pierre Ferrand at various price points ($40 - $120) and I've always been impressed, both with the quality in and of itself and with value for money at each level.

I haven't had a subscription or bought an issue in years. To me, in recent years it seemed to be speaking to a very particular sort of reader -- an upperclass-ish Upper East Side lady-who-lunches, maybe -- and was less about food than about that person's... idealized culinary lifestyle, I guess. Put another way, it was perhaps a little too New York for its own good, and I'm not at all shocked. Nor am I shocked that its sister Bon Appetit seems to have been spared -- that magazine, whatever its flaws, seems to have much greater potential right now. Edited to add: Really, though, the one part of the operation that seems most likely to be around in some form in 5 years is Epicurious.

Also nearby is the Capital Grille, at 359 Newbury (near Sonsie), which is a very good dark-wood steakhouse with a superb wine list. It's a very safe choice, on the expensive side but not absurdly so.

In cool weather, a brown spirit, neat or on ice as appropriate. In warm, a Pimm's Cup. Fill a mixing glass with ice cubes, add 2 oz Pimm's No. 1, top with anything sweet and fizzy that happens to be handy, garnish or not depending on whether anyone's looking, sip. Impossible to screw up.

A couple of years ago I decided I needed to get serious about breadmaking. BBA was the book I got and it was perfect -- a complete, easy-to-follow tutorial in advanced breadmaking at home. As Wholemeal Crank said, you can buy it now with confidence.

I made a lovely, somewhat potent vanilla syrup the same way he suggests making cinnamon syrup, steeping half a vanilla bean in the hot syrup as it cooled. You could probably get away with a smaller piece of bean. I also made a 2:1 syrup with a milder vanilla infusion, which makes amazing Mai Tais.