jrshaul

I spent six weeks working at a Subway. I couldn't keep up with the lunch rush. My solution was to quit, not to omit the tomatoes for people who looked like they wouldn't complain. This is a somewhat extreme example at a franchise known for a constant line physically out the door from ten to two, but I feel it's pertinent regardless. In my former self-employment as tech support monkey, I regularly had off days. A slip of the screwdriver could nullify $75 worth of paycheck, leaving me to replace a $100 motherboard out of pocket. When this happened, I ate the loss and did my best to make it up later. If my server is not performing to the best of his or her abilities, I'm not tipping to the best of mine. If they're overloaded, then he or she will generally have no difficulty compensating for my 15% tip by way of volume; if the staff are simply useless, I fail to see why they should be rewarded for it, especially when the restaurant across the street has no such deficiencies. I actually tip far better than 90% of my acquaintances of similar age, and the remaining 10% are significantly wealthier than I. However, now eating out more frequently on my own, I'm starting to empathize with their point of view. If the quality of service when ordering a $25 tab is actually inferior to that for a $6.25 enchilada, expecting quadruple the reward seems somewhat unreasonable. I paid full price or made use of coupons made available to the public at large. The only time I spoke to the owner was when I made a mistake about ownership.

In my former employment as tech support monkey, I saw this sort of nonsense on a regular basis. You did the right thing.

This one secret made the whole process so much easier. While not 100% ideal, it seems that the temperature of the chocolate isn't hugely important so long as it has achieved temper and not exceeded 91 degrees. I ended up tempering my chocolate in a coffee mug. I melted some milk chocolate (it's what I had on hand) in the microwave, using an instant-read meat thermometer to verify it hit 120 degrees. Adding further chopped chocolate wasn't enough to bring it down to 86 degrees, so I used a cool water bath before moving the mug into some simmering water to bring it back up to 91. While the process was a bit of a kludge, the truffles came out great! I'm curious, though - does anyone else here pipe out their truffles? I tried it, and had a lot of trouble producing chocolates of the desired shape. Should I just go out and invest in some moulds?

I was always quite fond of pineapple juice, tonic, and bitters from the open bars at the Bar Mitzvahs I attended as a kid. However, for best results, I'd go for some of the infused syrup recipes you can find on this forum. Most of 'em do call for a few percent alcohol to prevent spoiling, but not an awful lot. You could probably do a pretty good mock-Cosmopolitan with a good orange syrup, though I'm at something of a loss as to how that might be produced.

I've been meaning to learn how to temper chocolate for some time now, and seeing as how my latest batch of truffles are much too fluid to be served as-is, I suspect I may as well get at it. I'm aware of the standard procedure of heat to 120F, cool to 86F, and heat to 90F, but I'm a bit perplexed as to how I might go about keeping this temperature mostly constant. A thick ceramic bowl and maybe a towel would appear the most obvious solution, but perhaps I'd be better off turning the stove very low and monitoring the thermometer? Also, on a semi-related note, could anyone comment on my ganache-preparation technique? I've been using a microwave to melt the chocolate and butter, and adding hot cream with a little corn syrup. I've never had any trouble with emulsions, though I suspect that this is mostly because Trader Joes' dark chocolate has lecithin in it.

Example A. Yet another taste-impaired chain-smoking celebrity chef perpetuating the myth of brining. I'm going to go out on a limb here, but I think pork isn't brined enough. If you have a nicely marbled roast and don't overcook it, it's not necessary, but it can make a big difference for cuts bereft of fat - especially if you cook them to 165. The largest problem I've had with salt brines is the quantity of meat that is already pre-brined. The end result is appalling. It's also quite distressing when your souvlaki shrink by half when you cook 'em.

Here's a question for you: What defines unacceptable service? I'm hazarding a guess by stating that most eGullet participants have the mannerisms and appearance befitting someone of means. Regardless of your actual level of income, your speech and clothing suggest that you present an excellent investment of a waiters' time and energy. However, this cannot be said of all diners. Patrons guilty of looking broke or foreign are given lower priority than more statistically lucrative tables, and the service is perceptibly inferior. I'm living with my parents this summer to save money towards tuition. I find it infuriating when I receive markedly inferior service at the same restaurant, compared not only to other customers but to a visit made with my father six weeks before. This problem is especially prevalent at midpriced establishments; restaurants with high-end menus having enough professionalism to serve me regardless while the budget end of the spectrum not particularly concerned. Am I out of line? I recognize that for the majority of my classmates, eating out means free bacon on Tuesdays at Wando's Bar. As someone who uses a lot of coupons and never orders alcohol, I'm a low-profit customer; while I do tip 20%, it's usually on a very small bill bereft of beverage or appetizer. Perhaps I do in fact perceive random accidents as intended slights, but given the visible decrease in quality of service, it's difficult to distinguish. Should I accept reduced service as the penalty for spending a third the sum of the man at the table next to me, or are my grievances justifiable? Also, on an unrelated note: I'm not much of a journalist; for me, it's really just a hobby. However, I think I do a fairly good job of it. Despite circulation of at most a few thousand, I've made a noticeable difference in patronage at two especially remarkable establishments, and presumably created equal damage at those I've maligned. While both my praise and criticism are poorly restrained, the end result is actually read and perceived as relatively untainted by sympathy for the damned or (more commonly) the need for advertising dollars.

It is a commonly held belief amongst anyone over the age of 60 that pork cooked to anything less than 165F spells certain and unquestionable doom. Combine with the absence of fat in today's supermarket pigs, and you have a recipe for the dessicated food-like substance I call "porkboard". Of course, if you're of the generation old enough to have personally met Upton Sinclair, the fear is likely warranted.

I'd say that half an hour to take my order is not reasonable given a mostly empty restaurant on a Tuesday evening. Mostly, though, it's receiving markedly inferior service compared to my visits with presumed parent-figures. I really hate that. Curiously, this never happens at less expensive venues, nor at the really high-end options. If I'm paying upwards of $30 or less than $12, I never seem to have any trouble at all; in fact, I can name offhand several extremely affordable places that have provided really excellent service. Maybe I am being unreasonable. I can't afford to eat out very often, and when I do, I expect a minimum of hassle. However, given that my standard of reasonable quality is set by an overpacked family restaurant on a Friday evening with entrees starting at $7.50, I'm less than pleased when restaurants fail to meet it. The problem is that I've actually been shortchanged to the tune of $11 on a $6 tab. It's not frequent and the tip in question is quite small, but it's sufficiently commonplace that I now double-check my change every time I pay in cash. This is really in response to the place where I was seated under a water leak. I did manage to get another table, but going that far out of your way to make me feel unwelcome is not acceptable. Funny thing, though - I *was* charged, if only for the cheese plate I had already received. Admittedly, I had a Groupon, but I ended up having to use the thing to buy a bunch of of desserts. (They were pretty good, but passionfruit foam does not a supper make.) This is the event that brought on the rant.

In response to the immediate comments about negativity, I would request that you look at my contribution to my area's restaurant discussion thread. I've posted heavy compliments for several of the area's restaurants. Most of the reviews I write for publication are glowing; the exceptions almost always being chain restaurants I was asked to review. (And let's face it - who goes to a place called "Fuzzy's Tacos" anyway?) And this is where we get to the largest problem of all: These restaurants wereexpensive. At each of the above restaurants, I placed a total order exceeding twenty dollars. While $20-$25 might not be much for New York, it buys quite a lot in a small Midwestern town. I can count on one hand the restaurants that exceed it - and at all of those, I've been treated just fine. In contrast, I've had nothing but flawless service at the less spendy restaurants in town. I can walk into the local gastropub and order a burger during the dinner rush and expect flawless service, and I've never had a major quibble in the many times I've visited my favorite taquería. If my standards for service are set by a place where you can get lunch for $4.50 and caters to drunkards at 2AM Saturday morning, I don't feel they're totally unreasonable. (In fact, often tip as high as 50%. Of course, on a $4.50 tab, that's not difficult.) I genuinely suspect that the poor treatment was a function of lack of interest. I've never had any of the above problems occur when I was dining with someone of middle age and apparent wealth. However, when I choose to dine out alone or with friends the same age as myself, I've had horrendous problems at the same restaurants that so politely served my parents the month before. I did. They couldn't be bothered. I've had less than pleasant service out of the same restaurant twice. Having your order mislaid at ten P.M. is reasonable; having it ignored at a quarter past eight, not so much. One should note that almost all of these apply to two specific restaurants, with the same owners. Not coincidentally, I believe they were recently done in for tax evasion. Again. One man owns roughly half the restaurants in town. I've been to almost all of them - some, dozens of times. The food is inexpensive, the waiters are frequently overworked, and the crowds are often enormous. And not once in the last eight years has any of his restaurants made a mistake larger than serving me the wrong salad dressing. I tip them 20%, no trouble. However, I do question why I'm obligated to pay someone for completely screwing up my evening. If a tip is a gratuity, it seems strange to provide it in the complete absence of gratitude; if it is a mandatory payment, then I question why I should pay it in the absence of services rendered. My father, who served as a waiter for over fifteen years (during which he was lit on fire at least twice) was horrified by all events mentioned above.

Here's on my List of Major Peeves: 1. Bartenders that cannot mix the following: Manhattans, Old Fashioneds, Gimlets, or, above all else, a Perfect Martini. 2. Restaurants that do not take reservations - or phone calls of any sort, for that matter - before five o' clock. Hire a !@#$ secretary. 3. Steaks cut anything less than 1/2" thick. If I can see through my porterhouse, it's too thin. Cope. The only reason these restaurants exist is because of the slobs, not despite them. Michelin-starred restaurants are dependent on enormous traffic despite equally enormous pricetags; without the millions of poorly-educated buffoons flowing through Vegas, they would not exist at all - and neither would Vegas itself. At least you have the option. I live in a city with an absurd percentage of nonfunctional restaurants, and I'd quite cheerfully eat dinner amongst the attendees to a professional wrestling enthusiasts' convention if it meant access to some really brilliant food.

The problem with sushi is that it requires enormous infrastructure and is incredible easy to screw up. While it's now possible to get convenient, pre-prepared ingots of everything from fried egg to sea urchins, to prepare it properly requires a trained chef, a specialized workspace (ideally with the counter-mounted fridge so that the fish is never exposed to warm air), and above all else, enough throughoutput that the ingredients are either used or discarded on a daily basis. I don't buy into the myth of inscrutable Nippon Ichi magic. I've had good sushi made by chefs whose experience with Japanese culture is limited to the odd bit of anime on Cartoon Network when they were twelve. But if you don't have the right training, the right equipment, and above all else the right ingredients, I'm not going near it.

I run Popov through a heavy-duty carbon scrubber and use it for my liqueurs and infusions. Never had a comment. I quite like Old Crow, too - most people can't tell it from Jack Daniels, and it's an awful lot cheaper. Cheap brandy is a crime against humanity, though. Corn is corn, but bad grapes...

As one of the younger participants in the eGullet forum, I experience restaurants somewhat differently than the majority of individuals present. My choice of venue is limited by my wallet, and I often order towards the more frugal end of the menu. However, above all else, I'm not served in quite the same fashion. I can understand, to an extent, the lack of service. I don't order appetizers, I dine alone, and by demographic I'm not likely to tip well. The waiter - not unreasonably - chooses to fawn over tables with the potential for more robust compensation. However, I've recently encountered a steadily growing list of reasons why I've not left a tip at all. These include: 1. Inattentiveness. Requiring a few minutes' wait is fine; however, it should not be necessary to flag you down with orange cones airport-style to place an order. My metric for acceptability is the wait at an over-capacity bar during World Cup finals. If you can't equal their quality of service, then you're just not trying. 2. Short-changing. A few dollars is fine. Accidentally tripling my bill, not so much. Either you're dishonest, inattentive, or flat-out stupid; regardless, no tip for you. 3. Serving the wrong food. This is of particular significance as a good friend of mine is vegetarian and several others have mild food allergies. Accidentally serving me a medium-well steak instead of a medium-rare is excusable; giving a devout Buddhist a plate of carpaccio, not so much. 4. Unwillingness to move my table due to inclement conditions. This has yet to actually happen, though I suspect it will soon enough. While a crying infant or boisterous drinkers aren't a big deal, if I'm paying $17 for a steak I expect to enjoy it without water dripping on my head. (This, sadly, has happened. In the last week.) 5. Not serving me at all. A few days ago, I was informed that may waiter forgot to dispatch my requests to the kitchen in the forty minutes between when I made them and when it closed, leading to significant embarrassment in front of some rather nice people I had hoped to impress. This falls into the category of "I want telepathically strangle you in the manner of Darth Vader" level unacceptability. (Thankfully, I occasionally am privileged to write a newspaper review for a student paper, so I suspect the loss of reputation will be soon repaid in turn.) I don't think I'm an unreasonable customer. I've had excellent service on the few occasions I can afford the more elegant restaurants in town, and left a gratuity accordingly. But if I'm dropping (what is for me, anyway) a significant amount of my income so that I might have a nice evening, I'm not rewarding anyone for making a hash of it.

My suggestions: 1. Don't use a really shockingly bad whiskey, brandy, gin, or rum for your rail drinks. While it's nice to have an incentive to spring for the Henessey or Makers' Mark, I flatly refuse to go to half the bars in town, where $7 buys you an Old Fashioned that tastes as though it had been passed by a moose. 2. Don't overdo the infusions. I make a lot of liqueurs, and even the best are sometimes poorly received. Booze is for most not a point of experimentation and familiarity is important. Furthermore, getting infusions right is quite difficult: I've not had success making aquavit despite many attempts, and half the infusions at the trendy restaurant down the street are no better. 3. Do use discounts carefully. A buy-one get-one special on sake bombs is asking for invasion by a legion of stumbling louts in Red Wings jerseys, while free charcuterie with purchase of top-shelf Manhattan will bring in...well, me. Find a drink that appeals to young women, and the young (and not-so-young) men will follow. 4. Do standardize. If customers receive wildly different drinks from two bartenders upon receipt of the same order, they may well not return. 5. Whenever possible, avoid artificial flavorings in favor of the genuine article. Mint juleps should have real mint, not creme de menthe. While using real citrus is a no-brainer, it's not difficult to find high quality juice concentrates of cherry, pomegranate, and many others. EDIT: I'm by no means an expert on pairing drinks with dinner, but robust steakhouse-style fare calls for equally robust beverages. Cocktails featuring whiskey, brandy, or bourbon have the potency to cut through the flavor of a big ribeye or meatloaf. My favorite steakhouse cocktail (where I can get it) is the Garnet, which consists of roughly equal parts red wine, creme de cassis, and brandy - preferably cognac. Caphrinias are great, too, and I see a lot of folks ordering Dark and Stormys around here.

I've found you get a better flavor. Also, while removing the pulp is a bit tricky, you get a superior yield.

Thanks for your comments! I'm going for raspberry, citrus, and vanilla for this batch; my blackberry liqueur, which a lot of folks do feel has something of a Robitussin vibe, is likely suffering quite heavily from the brandy. I might add a little white wine, however; I've found it adds a little depth to the flavor without distracting from it. For this batch of liqueur, I was thinking equal parts 80 proof vodka and raspberry puree, with the zest from one large lemon per 8 cups of mixture, and then sweeten to taste and possibly dilute after infusion. Any thoughts on the issue?

I'd like to make a big batch of raspberry liqueur, but I've got a few stumbling blocks I was hoping you could help me address. 1. Raspberries are known to be covered with some remarkably hard to kill wild yeasts. Quite a few recipes warn about fermentation despite the addition of copious amounts of alcohol, and a few specify a period of several days for fermentation. I'm hoping to go with equal parts mashed raspberries and alcohol by volume to form a 20% ABV solution, but I'm not sure this is quite enough. Should I acquire some everclear to boost the concentration to 25%, or perhaps just add some sodium metabisulfite? Or is the fermentation desirable? 2. Quite a lot of berry liqueurs end up tasting like cough syrup. I like to add a bit of brandy to my blackberry and blueberry to give some flavor depth, but I suspect that it's not so advisable for the raspberry. Many recipes call for a little vanilla or some lemon peel - can anyone else make any suggestions? 3. Infusion time for berries is a bit odd - blueberries generally work best for a minimum of three months, whereas blackberries shouldn't really be left alone for more than six weeks. Does anyone know an optimal infusion time for raspberries? 4. Does anyone have any idea as to what else I might blend with raspberries? I've got three and a half pounds, and I'll be acquiring the same again on Tuesday.

If you don't mind using a blacklight, quinine glows a rather impressive blue.

I've been shaking it pretty well, but I suspect the liquids gain viscosity very heavily when setting. Maybe I should shake during the cooling process? I'm hoping for a very stiff texture, not unlike the traditional gelatin/egg white mousse made in a mixer. I might actually try adding a bit of gelatin to the ISI recipe and see what happens.

What a wonderfully bonkers idea. I'm adding some peppercorns to my next batch of cherry bounce.

It looks pretty spiffy, but I've yet to get anything in the whip quite right yet so I figure I should hold off 'till I get the hang of it. I did find some recipes on their website, though: http://www.isi.at/consumer/recipes/creative-whip-recipes/en/ I also found a demo on YouTube where they make the pepper and mango mousse. Here's hoping mine comes out...

I'm gonna have to try that if I can find some a bit cheaper. I don't think I can really justify spending $80 to make a batch of mousse. On a related note, has anyone had any luck with gelatin?

That's a rather interesting formulation. How would I go about accounting for the lack of protein and fat in the peanut butter? And where locally can I expect to find the carrageenan?

I'm a big fan of mousses and creams, and would quite like to make use of the ISI half-liter whipping container I recently acquired. However, I haven't had much luck so far - the recipe I tried for chocolate mousse, which consists solely of heavy cream and chocolate, was somewhat limp and didn't have much body to it. I've seen some nifty recipes using combinations of fruit, cream, and gelatin, and would very much like to make some of my own. I recently found a video of an ISI whip used to prepare a passionfruit and coconut dessert that had none of my consistency problems, and was wondering if anyone could suggest how I might replicate it. http://www.copyright.gov/fls/fl122.html I've also noticed that some recipes call for gelatin, while others rely solely on heavy cream. Is there a general set of proportions that can be applied to this sort of thing?