John Rosevear

This may or may not be helpful for you: One of my lactose-intolerant friends finds that she can tolerate goat's milk yogurt if she takes a Lactaid before eating. I can testify that the goat's milk stuff works fine in Indian recipes.

Well, the recipes are good. But to the point, I love the simple precision of the instructions and the heft of experience that comes through. For instance, for a vinaigrette, he notes -- just in passing -- that you should add the salt to the vinegar and then add the oil, because the salt won't dissolve in the oil. "Duh", you and I may say, but for a novice, an important point that isn't necessarily obvious. Or the note that turnips are sort of traditional for a pot-au-feu, but here's why parnsips are better choice (and then a bit about what to do if you absolutely must have turnips anyway). It all adds up to an awful lot of wisdom, delivered about as simply as it could be -- but with great authority. Do these things, as described, and results will follow. I think a lot of foodie types have given the book a casual look and kind of yawned, because it doesn't look like much at first glance -- it certainly isn't The French Laundry Cookbook -- but in its quiet, spare kind of way, it's a big deal, a very modern French equivalent of The Silver Spoon.

FireAarro, I'd say it's not supposed to be like the Monin Amaretto -- that's too sharp. If you've had the Monin Almond (which is an opalescent white, not brown), that's more like it. Pronounced, but not overwhelming.

Let's put it this way: If someone is almost ready for Mastering the Art of French Cooking, then I think they are ready for The Complete Robuchon -- and while this might be a heresy, after spending some time with the Robuchon book I'm starting to feel like it might be a better choice. It will not teach the most basic-basic of techniques, but it is a very good guide to French cooking for the novice who is past the boil-water-make-toast-fry-egg stage of learning. When my young sons are old enough to ask for cookbooks, it will be among the first 3 or 4 books I give them. (If I had to choose today, the very first would be the 1975 Joy of Cooking, but we'll see.)

If I look carefully at the palm of my left hand, I can still see the shape of an All-Clad handle. In my case it was chicken legs, pan-roasted at 450 for about 15 min -- I had the pan on top of the stove, out of the oven for maybe 30 sec, and had just added stock and was about to start making the sauce, when it slipped a bit and I grabbed it. Barehanded. Ow. And yes, holding it while shrieking so as not to spill the contents. I ended up wrapping ice and paper towels around the burn and made a passable sauce one-handed, served it, and then went off with a glass of absinthe to whimper. It was a good 18 hours before the pain receded. Ow ow ow.

It will be interesting to see, as more brands hit the US market, whether creme de violette in general is a finicky product or whether the finickiness is specific to the R&W bottling. But with the latter, I agree that less is better.

I wouldn't advocate serving it in lieu of Victor's Mai Tai. But I emphatically advocate serving it as a variation, as Forbidden Island does (note the "Island Mai Tai").

I'd own a smallish place not too far from the ocean, somewhere that's tropical but a little bit off the beaten path and popular with Discerning Folks Who Have Money -- Grand Cayman might do, or Maui or Kauai or Fiji. We'd serve very good sushi featuring local fish, with very good sauces brewed/made in-house or to our specifications -- all of which would be gluten-free. The bar would set high standards for creativity and innovation while respecting tradition -- the tiki classics would be available, for instance, made correctly. I wouldn't be working in the kitchen or behind the bar. I'd be the owner/ringleader/impresario, spending my days keeping it going and chatting with our guests, and writing an interesting book every couple of years.

I've been underwhelmed by everything I've made with the R&W product, but I have yet to find an alternative here in MA (excepting Brizard's Parfait Amour, which makes for interesting variations but isn't really a true substitute). Is the Yvette available in the US yet?

A number of good bars serve the Surf Room variant with an explanation, or call it the "Hawaiian" Mai Tai. It certainly has a history of its own. It's also a great drink.

Oh c'mon, you could do a lot worse... try the Fee's, for example. (Actually, don't.) Edit: I did try the Art of Drink recipe a couple of years ago and it seemed more work than it was worth. But perhaps I'll try it again...

My perennial favorite is popcorn with a little too much butter (Kate's, please -- I love that all my local supermarkets here in MA carry it now) and salt. Nothing like a big load of carbs and fat at bedtime...

The Surf Room Mai Tai is indeed amazing. My wife has me make them by the (gallon!) pitcher for parties. Very, very popular. FWIW, I think the Monin almond syrup makes a decent orgeat, if you don't feel like making it from scratch. It lacks a bit of nuance, but it's not bad.

I would also vote for the Mai Tai. It's recognizable as a classic sour, but a relatively complex one, and (assuming you're using Berry's recipe) it's a great place to introduce the critical-to-Tiki idea of layering rums. You could have students substitute ingredients with different nuances -- vanilla syrup for the simple, say, or a Demerara rum for the Jamaican -- and note the changes to the overall drink. And yeah, then at the end of the class do a 1934 Zombie, IMO the only other real candidate for "most essential, most perfect, most misunderstood, abused, and bastardized."

My experience mirrors Jenni's -- I too wanted to like it, but... not quite. The only decent cola I've had in years (Passover Coke excepted) was the Pepsi Throwback from earlier this year. I keep hoping Coke will do something similar.

Mostly I use it as you used it -- for rubs when grilling and barbecuing. But it also works really well in old-school fried chicken coatings, as does granulated onion. It's just... right in a way that "real" garlic isn't, quite.

What the wood is and isn't doing -- long story short, most people can get pretty good smoke flavor (and a respectable smoke ring) with just ordinary lump charcoal.

I think the humidity in a bbq cooker is impacted much more by factors like the quantity of meat you've stuffed in there and your water pan(s) if any than by whether you've soaked some wood chips. For what it's worth, I think every hobbyist bbq'er who uses a charcoal-fired cooker -- particularly those of a "scientific" bent -- should try cooking without any wood whatsoever (soaked or otherwise) once or twice. It's quite educational.

Interesting conclusion, more so because it differs greatly from my own. Having made quite a few examples of all three Zombies, I (and those I've served them to) are unanimous: The Santiago recipe (aka the '1934 Zombie', as it is known in some quarters) wins hands-down. But: This only holds when the drink is made with fresh white grapefruit juice. Subbing pink grapefruit juice (even fresh) or anything from a bottle or carton degrades the drink significantly, and throws it into something of a tie with the 1950 Spievak version. It's amazing how much of a difference it makes. I don't much care for the later Cabaret iteration -- the Maraschino always seems out of place to me (edited to add: ...and I wouldn't be surprised to someday learn that Don made it up on the spot for the magazine.)

This probably isn't the answer you were looking for, but after many years of trying various approaches I gave up on soaked wood chips altogther. I now use 3-6 (unsoaked) fist-sized chunks nestled strategically among the charcoal in my BBQ cooker (a WSM), which produce ample amounts of tasty smoke and superior flavor with less hassle. If I want to add wood smoke while grilling, tossing a small wood chunk on the hot grates and closing the grill's lid works fine as well.

Coming late to this, but I wanted to add a rec for my current go-to store, Julio's Liquors on Rt 9 in Westborough. I discovered them a few months ago and I've been floored by their selection. I was standing in their rum aisle the other day when I realized... they have (I think; I was going from memory) every rum called for in Jeff Berry's books. Every one. Their other spirits offerings are similarly comprehensive, and they have a huge selection of bitters (all the Fee's offerings, Regan's, etc) and Monin syrups and other cocktail-geeky things as well as fine beer and wine departments.

I eat at Oishii Too every few months... our take is generally that it's good, but whether it's good enough to justify its high-ish prices relative to the better local competitors is an open question. (For my money, in metrowest Boston, one could do a lot worse than going to the Bamboo in Burlington or Westford and sitting at the sushi bar.) As for the QP-and-tempura creations, I think that's part and parcel of being a sushi restaurant in suburban America nowadays. You're always going to have a certain percentage of diners who won't venture far past crab stick and eel, and those folks help pay the bills... but if a little spicy mayo helps to tempt them in more interesting directions, I'm all for it. It's like the argument that some used to make for white zinfandel: If it encourages people to start drinking actual wine instead of "hard lemonade" or whatever, that seems like a good thing.

I'll be in NYC in a few weeks, and while there I'll be eating at Per Se with friends. This is my first visit to Per Se and I'm very much looking forward to it. But... I was recently diagnosed with celiac disease. Having never before had a food allergy or sensitivity of any kind, I'm still learning how to deal with this. I understand that they are very accommodating of gluten-free patrons, but what's the protocol? I gather that I shouldn't wait until I get there to tell them, but is it sufficient to let them know when calling a few days before to confirm the reservation? Should I (or the reservation holder) call earlier?

A friend and I saw some (live) silkies in a kill-to-order place in Boston's Chinatown recently and were wondering what to do with them beyond the traditional medicinal soups. Has anyone tried slow-roasting them? I mean, if the skin is going to be rubbery anyway... maybe a barbecue treatment would work? (By which I mean a low-slow-fire cooking process, not so much the ketchup and whatnot). Ordinary supermarket chickens tend to get a big mushy in a bbq cooker, but with the right seasonings it seems like it might suit these. Am I off base?