Busboy

Bit of an understatement, that. I'd say he's being a self-righteous, judgemental pr***. I find it slightly bizarre (or a testiment to the open-mindedness of eG-ers) that anyone even deigns to seriously discuss this moron. He should be flogged with a leather whip and for his stupidity and his propert handed over to Outback Steakhouse to be used as a meatlocker. Not that I'm anti-vegan. Just anti- s-rjp's.

Uneducated, uninsured foodies Thin-skinned, high strung foodies.

Dependson the nipple,I'd say.

If it tastes good, eat it.

On the contrary - I'd think the bulk of the target demo for a "little foodie store" would deem the name vaguely unsettling and offensive before they thought it was clever, cute or humorous. And that's my real problem with it - it's not clever at all. It's not a pun, it's not really wordplay. Seems kind of pointless. For the record, I think "zeeStore", or "de Store, esse" would be pretty silly names too. Silly, yes. unsettling or offensive, no.

I've found a very reasonably priced Greek muscat -- Samos? -- for about $9 at Whole Foods. It pretty mush stomps most dessert wines that cost more than twice as much in terms of taste and body, and holds up in cooking quite well. The Greeks take dessert wine pretty seriously and do them well; it's worth seeking them out for both cooking and drinking.

Try browning duck pieces and then braising them in dessert wine, duck or chicken stock, leeks, apples, thyme, whatever floats your boat. If you have time, cool skim and strain the braising liquid and then slowly bring the duck back to heat in it. Serve with wild rice and sauteed apples. Pretty swell.

I think the interesting aspect of this article is that -- in an age when people are spending millions (billions?) on elaborate diet aids, how-too books, speed substitutes and pre-measured microwave dinners -- the French are staying thin by doing what mom told them to do: eating right, and getting some exercise. Talk about anti-American! BTW, put me on the mailing list for that Mediterranean diet plan -- screw South Beach -- we're going on the South of France diet!

For someone who often comes across as humorless and inflexible, I think the name "daSto" is a PR triumph -- hey, maybe she is someone who'd be fun to shoot the breeze out behind the kitchen after all. I think if any other dialect was being used similarly, there would be little discussion of its appropriateness -- if a southern chef called their store "Cook's Holler" or a Frenchman opened "zee Shoap." Of course, any pun has the potential for aging rapidly, and the true test is what she stocks. Why not give her the benfit of the doubt and wait for Rocks to report back from the grand opening party on what's she's stocking and if return policies are more flexible in the store than the restaurant.

As long as you're stuck with salty confit I recommend that stew a little bit of it with white beans, olive oild, sage and some tomato (the canned will do fine) or serve some crumopled up atop with orrecheti and grated romano cheese. Put a layer of it in with your pommes anna, as well as a layer of gruyere. Think of the stuff as an exotic ham and use appropriately, and you can still get some good eating out of it. And then, of course, once more into the breech.

Busboy, thanks! I think mojitos at home are some of the best. I'm headed to a mojito-inspired dinner thing on Sat and I'm in charge of the cocktail. Will file report . All thanks due to the Mrs, who discovered the drink in Denver and, like Marco Polo bringing noodles to Italy, carried the recipe back to DC, where we have made it our own.

I prefer broth. Pork fat sounds lovely, or maybe through a chunk of bacon in the soup as it simmer. Whatever sounds best to you.

this sounds good even at ten in the morning! I am told this is the recipe: Blenderize until pureed: 2 cucumbers seeded and cubed, juice of 3 or so limes, simple syrup to taste (or super fine sugar) 2 -3 cups of Cold Water. Strain or not. Muddle handful of fresh mint in bottom of nice crystal glass Add ice, rum and cucumber mixture with rum/cuke ratio something like 1/1.5 or 1/2, depending on taste. A little experimentation will yield your preferred ratio -- best get into the lab as soon as possible. Best if enjoyed by the pool.

Pretty accurate, but it kind of misses the point. Tonic is an above-average neighborhood joint (though I'm pissed that they lost a carry-out order on me when I was in a hurry) and a dramatic improvement over its predecessor. There's no reason why someone in, say, Clarendon, should care about it, though. I think Tom was just trying to spread his time around to under-reproted enighborhoods, like Mt. Pleasant -- kind of like Bruni going to Brooklyn this week.

Mrs. Busboy, though she makes a bastard version that includes cucumber juice (it's as close to a mojito as most things called martinis these days are to the original cocktail). Brutally refreshing.

The Times devotes a lot of ink to expensive, fashionable restaurants that come away with only one star -- or less. There's usually a good reason for this: they have to report what's hot, what's "significant" and what's important to the trade, as well as what's good. The amount of space devoted to trendy underachievers more than justifies the occasional review of an outer-borough over-achiever, though. As a visitor trying to spend time outside Manhattan, appreciate the opportunity to learn about a restaurant that may be well-placed if I decide to go hunting for Boss Tweed's grave or take in the blasphemy at the Brooklyn Museum. Hell, I'll bet even Manhattenites get to Brooklyn, sometimes. And every positive review of a neighborhood joint in the Timed Food Section sets another hundred chefs thinking how they can make their place better, too.

No problem. We're basically talking about restaurant wear - not what one wears to do the obligatory 5 miles of tourist walking in a major city like New York, London or Paris. I frankly don't care if I look like a tourist when I'm in that 4th or 5th mile (although I try to avoid doing anything - like wearing expensive jewelry - that would make me a target). When it comes to evening and dinner at a nice place - with a cab to and from - I don't have to worry about blisters. Robyn P.S. I don't think of this as an American vs. everyone else thing. When you're walking 5 miles a day - taking in sights - museums - whatever - you need comfortable clothes and shoes. Dressing for dinner is a totally different issue. Though, in years of wandering through cities, including my own, I can neither remember nor imagine making it through the obligatory "tourist five" without ducking into one or another cafe, tratorria, pub, diner or restaurant for a bite and a dram. That thought pretty much always keeps me from dressing as badly as I do at home.

Based on a week skiing in Courcheval, I spot British tourists by their sunburns and hangovers. Also, the funny way they stare at their plate when French food arrives (admittedly, a trait shared with many Americans).

perhaps you'd like to check in with giorgio armani, who always seems to be wearing jeans, white tee shirt and a very stylish jacket. I agree. As far as eating goes, nice jeans, leather shoes, a well-cut jacket and a stylish shirt will get you almost anywhere you need to go in Europe, I've found. I think the difference is looking like you dressed that way on purpose, as opposed to throwing on whatever was handy, and taking care of the details. I'd put on a suit for a dinner at any restaurant with more than two Michelin forks and knives, though. Looking sharp never hurts, and it puts the missus in such a great mood. As far as just bumming around, I wouldn't sweat it too much. As a long-time Washington, DC resident, I've found that the tourists are pretty easy to spot, and that map and camera you'll be clutching are a dead giveaway. T-shirt, jean and sneaker combinations are probably a bad idea on general principle, as are running-suit combos. Robyn: bad news. The untucked shirt look is bursting out across the pond, and a lot of men who don't look like a movie star or a model are adopting it. Funny, that's how I used to dress for errand-running on a hangover.

Something about the cadence of Bruni's writing struck me as familiar, and now I think I have it. Does anyone else think that, at times, he sounds like the sainted Britchky? Don't know Britchky, but I, too noticed the writing today: "I lifted my gaze to the darkening sky; I lifted a glass of a bracing southern Italian white wine to my lips. I was happy. When the food came, it prolonged and even deepened that spell. "There was arugula at the start...ingredients and flavors were more like suggestions than outright presences, diffident stagehands rather than histrionic scene stealers..... "Later there was cod..." Looks like someone searching for a voice -- or reading MFK Fisher just before he files. I think I like it; I'm curious to see where it goes. There are also a boatload of overpriced, over-hyped restaurants that are more about buzz and design than food, but the Times reviews them, as well.

If you get up Gigondas way, I strongly recommend Les Florets (the link is mostly about the hotel, but has contact numbers) just outside of the village proper. Perhaps the most delightful meal I've ever eaten. Should be even better if there's no heat wave this year.

Years ago the now-Mrs Busboy cajoled me into making her a hamssandwich that I wasn't really in the mood to make. Fairly elaborate prep: slicing ham off the bone; frying with onions, butter, brown sugar, cheese and mustard; tosting the bread. (Actually, I'm getting a craving for one, now.) After finishing and slicing the sandwich in half, I -- from deep in that mental no-man's-land between annoyed at having to work and pleased at the result -- announced "here's your damn sandwich," underscoring the announcement by stabbing the point of the carving knife into the cutting board. My hand, greasy from the fat and butter, then slid down the handle without loosening its grip, and onto the blade. I probably didn't need the stitches, but the tetanus shot seemed like a good idea. And only two fingers scarred.

The sangria deserved special notice. It was perfect. We have about eight pounds of links in the freezer if you're craving it, drop by anytime. We have wings, too, but they're going to be finished off by lunchtime tomorrow, so hurry!

That's my feeling, too. We have done a cursory cleaning of the house in case we have to beat a hasty retreat, but I'm thinking the park will work.

The thought of mnbergall's shoulder in the smoker focused Ms. Busboy and myself on the potential tragedy an afternoon downpour could bring. If it turns truly ugly tomorrow, rather than let 15 pounds of lovingly prepared 'cue go to waste (ie, to ensure that we get our fill), not to mention five kinds of tomatoes, wings, artisanal bread, corn bread and slaw etc., we are happy to host the gathering chez nous, under two conditions: 1) Nobody point out that, at 45, we're still living like college students; 2) Nobody use the upstairs bathroom. Also, nobody can snear if I put on the Grateful Dead, but I'll try not to on general principles. If it's raining where you are, check this site at noon tomorrow. (Now, back to stuffing sausage.)