JAZ

The Faux Margarita 1-1/4 oz chipotle orange syrup (recipe below) 2 oz lime juice 1/4 oz grapefruit juice 1 oz water Shake over ice and strain into chilled, salt-rimmed glass. Or pour over ice if desired. Chipotle orange syrup Bring 2 cups water to a boil. Reduce to a simmer and add 1 dried chipotle pepper and 2 strips dried orange peel (or fresh, if dried are not available). Cover and let simmer for 15 to 20 minutes (liquid should be slightly spicy but not overtly hot). Strain out the pepper and orange and add ¾ cup sugar. Bring back to a boil and stir until sugar dissolves. Remove from heat and let cool Keywords: Non-Alcoholic Beverage, eGCI ( RG630 )

Aviation 1-1/2 fl oz gin 1/2 fl oz maraschino liqueur 3/4 fl oz lemon juice Shake ingredients over ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Variation: use half vodka and half gin. Keywords: Cocktail, eGCI ( RG629 )

Daiquiri 2 oz white rum 3/4 oz lime juice 1/4 oz simple syrup Pour over ice and shake. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Variation: Add a splash of grenadine (and use Bacardi rum) for the Bacardi cocktail. Keywords: Cocktail, eGCI ( RG628 )

Cosmopolitan 1-1/2 oz vodka 3/4 oz Cointreau, triple sec or curacao 1/2 oz fresh lime juice Splash cranberry juice Shake ingredients over ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with a lime wheel. Variations: Try flavored vodkas for this drink: Orange, currant or lemon Keywords: Cocktail, eGCI ( RG627 )

Margarita 2 oz tequila 1 oz Cointreau, triple sec or curacao 1-1/2 oz fresh lime juice or half lime and half lemon juice Moisten the edge of a glass with lime juice or water and rim with salt. Pour ingredients over ice and shake. Strain into salt-rimmed cocktail glass or pour over new ice in a margarita or hurricane glass. Garnish with a lime wedge or wheel. ( RG626 )

Manhattan 2-1/2 oz rye or bourbon whiskey 1/2 oz sweet vermouth Dash bitters Stir or shake gently with ice. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass and garnish with a cherry or a twist. Variations: Substitute dry vermouth for the sweet or use half and half (a perfect Manhattan). Rob Roy: Substitute blended scotch for the rye Keywords: Cocktail, eGCI ( RG625 )

Martini 2-1/2 oz gin 1/4 oz dry vermouth Pour into a glass filled with ice. Stir and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. OR Pour into a shaker filled with ice. Shake gently and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with a lemon twist or an olive. Variations: Vodka martini: Substitute vodka for the gin Perfect Martini: Use half dry and half sweet vermouth Dirty Martini: add a dash of olive brine Gibson: Garnish with a cocktail onion Keywords: Cocktail, eGCI ( RG624 )

Dave, the last couple of times I've brined meat (chicken thighs and pork tenderloin), I've then finished it with a jerk-style paste/marinade (more of a paste than a marinade) for a very short time -- about 20 minutes. Not that I did side-by-side comparisons, but it seemed to me that the flavors in the paste permeated the brined meat more than they did when I used the paste on untreated meat. Do you think that was just my imagination? Is there some reason for that to happen?

Thanks for the excerpt from your book. It sounds fascinating. This bit interests me: Obviously the "tasting menu" is an increasingly popular alternative to the traditional menu. It seems to me that these multi course meals can easily "derail" and confuse or overwhelm the palate. How do chefs work to ensure that these menus cohere and flow smoothly from one plate to the next? And what are some other alternatives to the classic menu that Miller (or other chefs) use or suggest? Thanks so much for your time. I'm looking forward to your book.

The recent resurgence of this thread had me thinking of onion rings, so I made some a few days ago to go with a hanger steak. Although I love most any onion rings, my favorites are the very thin sort dusted in flour and seasonings (no batter). The problem I've always had is that they don't stay crisp, so it's tough to make several batches and try to serve them all at the same time. This time, though, I remembered reading something about not salting french fries until right before serving, because pre-salting them makes them soggy. I figured maybe that would work with onion rings too. So I began by soaking in beer and egg (I usually use milk but didn't have enough) and then tossing in a mixture of flour, ancho chili powder and a bit of cayenne. Fried them in small batches as usual. Drained them on a rack rather than paper towels (I discovered that trick a long time ago). Then I stuck them in a warm oven until the steak was done -- unfortunately, a bit of a timing problem had occurred. They waited for about 10 minutes or so from the time the last batch was done. I was not optimistic. But lo and behold, when I pulled them out of the oven (still on the rack), they were still as crisp and when they'd emerged from the oil. Success!

I generally braise beef in dark beer with onions, and those leftovers make wonderful sandwiches too.

I've never been a huge fan of beans, but I have had a few memorable dishes that have started to convert me. One was a typical Italian (or so I'm told) first course of grilled shrimp served over cannelli beans. In this particular rendition, the smokiness of the shrimp imbued the beans to result in a whole that was much greater than the sum of its parts. It's the first time I can remember that eating a dish with legumes made me want to cook them. The other transcendental legume experience was a mixed grill at Bay Wolf restaurant (in Oakland CA) served on a bed of small white beans. Now it's true that grilled quail, lamb and duck sausage would make anything underneath taste pretty good, but these beans were simply perfect. The texture was creamy; the taste, subtle. (I even bought the Bay Wolf cookbook hoping that the recipe would be in there, but no luck.) Does anyone know any tricks to get that creamy (not dry or chalky) texture in bean dishes?

Yes. That "vodka as white paint" line is straight out of Paul Harrington's book, as is the Jasmine, which, as I recall, is a Harrington original. (Jasmine) That aside, it's certainly refreshing to see interest revived in the classics. I've done that, and the bartenders have generally been good about it. But still, there's something really great about finding a bar where the bartenders already know how to make the classics and make them well. (Not to mention the fact that patrons don't always know the exact recipes of the drinks they like.) Those bars (and bartenders) are true treasures, few and far between though they may be.

Try this one: a drink I haven't named yet. You could make this with vodka instead of rum, as well.

Great class! Kristin, when you use sesame oil for sauteeing, do you use an oil from toasted seeds, as is common in Chinese dishes, or is it an untoasted type?

Some bars keep simple syrup on hand, but it's not something you can count on. Most bars will have bar sugar or superfine sugar, though, so you should be able to get a sweetened gimlet with fresh lime. Actually, a Slippery Nipple is something different: Irish Cream, Sambuca and (sometimes) brandy. Not being a fan of many sweet drinks, I'm hardly impartial about these. I do like good Irish Cream (especially homemade) on the rocks or in coffee after dinner, though.

One year after smoking a turkey for Thanksgiving, I used the carcass to make stock, and then used the meat scraps and stock to make mole. It was good. Really good.

For the past several years, I've tried to purchase meat from animals raised without hormones. I'm lucky to live near a couple of butchers shops that carry "natural" meats, but I'm not sure what, if any, rules apply to calling meats "natural." I assume that such meat comes from animals that were raised without hormones and without anitbiotics in their feed, but I've never known for sure. Are there regulations that have to be met in order to label meat "natural," and if so, what are they? Thanks for your time.

I drink gimlets at home, but rarely order them out for exactly that reason. I do like the taste of Rose's, but overdone, it's cloying, and it's so often overdone that I prefer making my own. It's even worse if the bar uses a cheap substitute instead of real Rose's. But to me, fresh lime and gin is just not a gimlet. It needs that hit of Rose's. That being said, there are very few other drinks where I think it works.

I use all of them. I cook recipes (exactly) from virtually none of them.

Roast a couple of red bell peppers. Meanwhile, saute a sliced onion slowly until caramelized. Seed, peel and coarsely chop the pepper. When the onion is done, add the pepper with a couple tablespoons of sherry and salt and black pepper to taste. Continue cooking for a couple of minutes and then let cool slightly. Pulse briefly in a food processor or with a stick blender (you want it chunky). Spread on crostini or bruschetta and top with shaved aged gouda. This is one of those combinations that's much greater than the sum of its parts.

The diet Cricket is great. I, too, generally disdain iced tea blends. However, a few months ago, I was at the store I used to frequent on my lunch break and desperate for a cold caffeine fix. The store was out of Diet Coke, my usual choice, but I spied the Cricket and decided to give it a try. Not as carbonated as Diet Coke and not as bitter. Not so much sweeter as "rounder" and more mellow. I didn't realize it was made with Splenda, but that might account for the lack of bitterness.

Because I'm working on a book about the tastes and textures of food, I've been really interested in the cilantro/soap phenomenon, but I have not been able to find much information on the subject. I even emailed Robert Wolke and Cecil Adams (of Straight Dope fame) to no avail. Several cooking instructors I've worked with have said that the difference in perception is due to the lack of (or presence of) some enzyme in one's saliva. That's totally plausible, but I've never seen any studies or articles by scientists that put forth that theory. I've also heard people link the perception with the "supertaster" gene, but again, none of the articles on supertasters that I've seen (which is quite a few) have mentioned cilantro. From anecdotal information, I'd guess that whatever accounts for the soapy taste is not absolute -- that is, some people seem to experience a slight soapy taste (one of my friends said "yes, it tastes like soap, but a good soap." I still have no idea what he meant.) and some, like Carolyn, perceive it as a big dose of Palmolive. Some people, as several people here have noted, seem to develop either a taste or a distaste over time. No one I've met has experienced the same thing with the seeds, only the leaves. Strangely, the only article I've read recently that dealt directly with cilantro was in an early issue of Gastronomica, in which the author delved into historical reports of various European cooks thinking that (I'm not kidding) cilantro smells like bedbugs. I personally have no idea what a bedbug smells like (soap, maybe?), but it's not inconceivable that the two perceptions are related. Unfortunately, I lent that issue of Gastronomica to an acquaintance, who lost it, so I don't remember the details.

A cornbread recipe that did not list eggs in the ingredients, but included the instruction, "Beat in the eggs." I decided on two, and the results were good. A pumpkin pie recipe (printed in Esquire magazine) that also omitted the eggs, this time entirely, screwing up untold numbers of readers' Thanksgiving dinners (my sister was one.) A recipe for a "hot and spicy" roasted red pepper soup that called for 3 tablespoons of cayenne. My then-boyfriend wanted to make it that way; fortunately I talked him into 3 teaspoons. And my personal favorite: a recipe for beer rocks that lists the yield as 36 but which has you divide the dough into 30 pieces.

I read this before leaving for work, and posted my previous comment. Something about it bothered me but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. After contemplating the theory off and on all afternoon and evening, it finally occurred to me what it was, and this is the problem: Our sense of smell is active way before our tastebuds are; that is, our sense of smell is what lets us know there's something edible in the area, and whets the appetite. We smell things before we taste them, not the other way round. Also, if salt really does "wake up" our olfactory sense, then shouldn't that carrot smell more intense (as well as taste more intense) if sniffed after eating a saltine?