JAZ

I'd bet you could do a ragu with pork necks over pasta for $1 per person.

As I recall, the Chronicle still awards an overall star, doesn't it? I agree, though, that ratings for different aspects of the dining experience is very helpful. I especially liked it when the Chron started listing noise levels. I should say that I don't really like restaurant reviews in and of themselves. I generally don't read them unless I'm considering the restaurant, and I certainly don't read them for literary value. For me, what's important from a review is that I get an idea of what to expect if I go to the reviewed restaurant. It sounds obvious, but often I really don't; sometimes it seems that the reviewer is trying so hard to be clever and "literary" that his or her opinions get lost in murky and pretentious prose. My primary experience has been with the San Francisco Chronicle, and frankly, Michael Bauer is such a poor writer that often I'd read his reviews and have no idea what he was trying to say. (I have to admit that I had the same reaction with the Sam Sifton review of Boulud's new place.) So, in that sense it's nice to have some kind of recap at the end, just in case. But a single star system is a really poor way to recap a review. What I think would be best would be if a review was followed by a breakdown according to food quality, beverage program, service, and ambiance/atmosphere. Not stars (although that would be better than nothing), but a short sentence about each aspect. So, if one didn't have time to read the whole review (or if it was confusing or poorly written), I could still skip to the end and see something like: Food: Everything we tried was good. Some average selections, but no big misses, and some really outstanding dishes. Service: Servers were friendly for the most part, but the service wasn't particularly professional, and there were some significant timing issues. Ambiance: Restaurant was loud and bustling. Beverage program: Full bar, but cocktails were pedestrian. Wine list was mediocre. Great beer selection. That way, I'd know that if I was most interested in good food, it would be worth checking out. For a quiet dinner for my parents' anniversary, not a good choice. Likewise if I required a good wine selection. Even if the star system is broken down into categories, seeing -- for instance -- one star for service doesn't tell me if the problem is condescending waiters, bad kitchen coordination or something else. Two stars for wine doesn't tell me if the wine selection is good, but limited; or good, but overpriced. Of course, I'd still have to figure out if the reviewer's opinions matched mine, but at least I'd have a head start. Ideally, one should be able to get this from the review in full, but that's seldom been my experience.

Pastameshugana, I had that trouble with the original batch I made (without the baking soda), which is why I wanted to try the baking soda variation. I based my second batch on this recipe, but changed the quantities as follows: 8-3/4 oz. (250 grams) (about 1-1/4 C) granulated sugar 2-5/8 oz. (78 g) (1/3 C) water 5-3/8 oz. (154 g) (1/2 C) corn syrup Then I mixed in: 9-1/4 oz. (268 g) (about 1 cup) peanut butter (I used smooth Jif) 2 g (1/2 tsp) baking soda 4 g (1 tsp) vanilla I brought the first three ingredients to a boil and cooked it to 300F -- if anything, I went a little higher. Then stirred in the peanut butter, soda and vanilla. I wouldn't say that I "beat" it, but it does take a lot of stirring to get the peanut butter incorporated. I wanted it the finished candy to be on the thin side, so rather than an 8" pan, I spread it out in a quarter sheet pan (on a silpat) and it fit perfectly. Anyway, I was quite happy with the texture; it's much better than my first try. I didn't get photos of the candy before cutting, but this is what it looked like after. I wanted to do a layered candy with peanut butter truffle filling on top, which is one of the reasons I didn't want it quite so sweet. (Then I dipped in 70 percent chocolate, but I didn't get a photo of that either.)

We've been having trouble finding it in the two Atlanta liquor stores that regularly stock it.

I'm now seeing these pretty regularly, although I don't find it annoying. I can never decide whether to save them or use them.

1. LU Petit Ecolier cookies (dark or extra dark chocolate). Not too sweet, and amazingly good chocolate. 2. Munch bars. Actual butter in the candy. 3. I used to love Mystic Mints, but I have no idea if they're even made anymore, or if I'd like them now. I also used to like Sunshine Lemon Coolers, but I'm pretty sure they aren't made anymore. So, I'll go with Fiddle Faddle as my third choice.

This squeezer is probably the one Oliver is referring to. I find that with the size of most Persian limes, the "lemon" size works fine, so I don't bother with two sizes. I prefer the stainless steel version; it's much more durable than the aluminum ones.

Most champagne stoppers simply seal the bottle so the carbon dioxide doesn't escape, and as Erik mentioned, they work pretty well for one opening. However, I've found this WMF pump/seal to be much better than a simple stopper. You can probably tell from the photo that this is two pieces: a stopper similar to other, more typical stoppers, plus a pump. Rather than removing air, like a vacuum pump does for wine, this pumps air into the bottle, which does keep the bubbles in the champagne. I'm not sure if this is available in the US anymore, but if you find one, buy it.

No pictures, but I discovered a couple duck breasts (boned, with skin) dating from last March and a container of duck fat. Seared the breasts and sauteed some potatoes in the fat. Not bad for a serendipitous freezer meal.

I've become a big fan of these tomatoes, especially since it's tough for me to get to markets that carry heirlooms or other good quality tomatoes. From the Wikipedia article, it seems that they're being grown by several Canadian producers. Although sometimes I wish they were larger -- when I want slices for a sandwich, for instance -- mostly I like the smaller size.

My pressure cooker came with a booklet that has charts for cooking times for various foods, so I always check the appropriate chart, and then start on the low end. Probably the most important thing I learned when I started using my pressure cooker a lot was that it's not that big a deal to release the pressure to check the progress of the food inside. Yes, it takes some time to build the pressure back up, but not nearly as long as it takes to start, because the food is really hot.

I don't know if these are available this year, but a few years ago, miniature dark chocolate Reese's peanut butter cups turned up for Halloween and then disappeared.

Wouldn't the fruit cook in the dishwasher?

Mitch's question about the brand of kosher salt is a good one, and brings up another question: do the recipes you use specify volumes or weights of salt the other ingredients? Morton's kosher salt measures very differently from Diamond brand -- the same volume of Morton's weighs at least half again as much as Diamond, so it can really mess up a brine recipe that uses volume measurements if you switch from one brand to another. What's the recipe you've been using?

In this topic on the cookbooks that shaped us, a few series of cookbooks have been mentioned: Sunset books and the Time-Life Foods of the Worlds spring to mind. Other than those, I know that Williams-Sonoma has a selection of single-subject cookbooks, and of course there's the "Beautiful" series, but I'm not very familiar with any others. I'm sure they're out there, although it seems to me that series aren't as popular as they used to be in cookbook publishing. So maybe the series that are worth checking out are old ones, but maybe I just don't know about the contemporary ones that are available. Are there series that are worth buying today? Which old series are worth tracking down? Is it just a collector's passion, or can one actually cook from these?

On the other hand, I think that today's cocktail culture has a lot in common with craft brewing. They both hark back to a time when people took their craft (beer or cocktails) seriously; they build on classic styles and recipes but bring inventiveness and modern ideas to their drinks. The turn to fresh juices and syrups instead of reliance on bottled mixes sort of parallels the craft beer turn to small batches and hand-blended mixes of grains and special hop blends.

Over here, there's a discussion going on about the Chicago Tribune's take on the decade's worst dining trends. Number 10 is "deconstruction." San Francisco restaurateur Joyce Goldstein (whom I know and who is incredibly knowledgeable and incredibly narrow minded) is quoted: "I do not want a poached egg on top of carbonara sauce and the pasta on the side. I don't want the ingredients laid out before me anymore. I want a chef to show me how it is brought together." I think she misrepresents (and possible misunderstands) deconstruction, but I'm not sure if I'm right. To me, "deconstruction" is not simply taking a dish, separating out the components and placing them in piles on a plate. It's separating the components and then recombining them in (presumably) unexpected ways. In other words, "deconstruction" to me is shorthand for "deconstruction and reconstruction." For instance, a couple of years ago at New Orleans' Mila restaurant, we had "deconstructed oysters Rockefeller" that was possibly the best oyster dish I've ever had, and it wasn't just separate piles of oysters, bread crumbs and spinach; the chef took elements from the classic dish and created something new and wonderful from them. Joyce Goldstein might well not like that dish either. But before we start taking sides on "deconstruction" I think we should try to figure out what we're talking about. So, regardless of what you think of the trend, who's got the right definition? Do chefs use "deconstruction" literally? That is, do they merely take dishes apart? Or does the term imply something more, as I've always thought?

Beans are great done in a pressure cooker -- about an hour and fifteen minutes, with no soaking. I steam root vegetables and tubers in my pressure cooker all the time -- 10 to 15 minutes for whole beets (depending on size), 8 minutes for sweet potato halves. Also, any meat that needs slow cooking -- pork shoulder, chicken thighs, chuck roast, lamb shanks -- works great in a pressure cooker. I've started with "country ribs" (strips of pork shoulder) and had falling apart tender pork in 30 to 45 minutes. Braised chicken thighs are falling off the bone in 20 minutes. The main thing I've learned using my pressure cooker is not to think of it only as a "one-pot-meal" cooker (stews, chili, etc.) but to treat it as just another cooking tool that can save lots of time in many instances.

These small silicone ice cube trays by Silicone Zone are my current favorite. I've used the larger trays for ice cubes and stock and love them, but they're too big for some other uses. Thus I've been looking for a smaller size for ages, with no luck until now. You can't really tell from the picture, but the cubes in these trays are just under an inch on a side. Filled halfway, they're the perfect size for caramels, which pop right out in perfect shape -- ready for wrapping or dipping. I've also used them to freeze basil paste, and they were great for that as well.

Yes, one of the things I found in my freezer today was a container of duck fat. It's been there for months since the last time I took it out to fry potatoes. It lasts a very long time.

Thanks, Lisa. I ended up cutting the sugar from 2 cups down to about 1-1/4 cups, and the corn syrup to 1/2 cup. I added 1/2 tsp. of baking soda at the end, and I'm very happy with the texture. I agree about a little salt in brittle -- I make a salted nut crunch that starts out with roasted salted cashews and macadamias, and it's always a hit. In this case, I'm layering peanut butter truffle filling over the base and coating with bittersweet chocolate, so I'm not sure about the salt, but maybe I'll try a few with a sprinkle of salt on top after coating.

The Flavor Bible by Karen Page and Andrew Dornenburg. From what I'd read here and elsewhere, I expected this to be filled with inspirational food combinations and expertise. Instead, it's jumbled, confusing and random. Hate it.

I was talking about twice-baked potatoes a few days ago with an acquaintance and realized that we had entirely different approaches to something that I thought was pretty simple. I always bake russets, then cut them in half lengthwise and scoop out the centers. I mix the centers with (usually) cheese, cream, butter and seasonings -- sometimes getting fancy with diced cooked bacon or caramelized onions -- then stuff the potato halves with the mixture and bake again. So my friend looked at me as if I were crazy. "When I get a half potato like that I always think of cheap steakhouses." He cuts a slice off the flat end of a cooked potato and discards the top, then fills the whole potato and bakes it. I've always thought a whole stuffed potato was way too much to eat, but I have to admit that his method would make for a more pleasing presentation. Here I thought the only question was what to use in the filling. Who knew? So, what else am I missing? How do you make twice-baked potatoes? What do you put in them, and how do you construct them?

One of the first spiced nut recipes I ever made was one from (I think) Gourmet magazine for cajun pecans. It called for whipping egg whites and mixing in Tabasco and Worcestershire sauce, then the nuts. Then you sprinkled them with salt, black and white pepper, cayenne and thyme. So, no sugar, and they were great. As for the walnuts, the boiling water serves two purposes: it makes the walnut skins less bitter and tannic, and it also makes the sugar melt, so you have a syrup that coats the nuts evenly. They do get toasted, although since they start out wet it takes longer than with dry nuts. I've had batches that took nearly 45 minutes to toast, and if you don't have the nuts in a single layer, it takes even longer.

Good Lord! What's scary is that when I first viewed your photo, I thought it actually looked like a baby suckling pig--like some sort of dwarf piglet that you'd normally see in a jar in a biology class! Is it just me or does anyone else see that little ear, closed eye and snout? Not only that, but at first glance I thought it was clutching the white bottle in its jaws. In my freezer today, I found three bags of chicken carcasses waiting to be made into stock. I try to keep one bag and just keep adding to it, but obviously I failed. I wonder if there are more in there, and how old they might be.