Busboy

I hear that New York has other attractions besides eating and shopping, delightful though those passtimes are. Why not jot up to MoMA and then cop a small plate or six and brutally expensive wine by the glass at the cafeteria or whatever the hell they call it there? Lunch, dinner, it's cool. I'd probably avoid peak times, though.

I do very much understand that special request can't always be accommodated, and I promise you that I never get pissy. All I was saying was that if I were taken to a table that I didn't want to eat at and saw anonther one available where I'd rather dine, I'd say to the person seating me, "could we please sit over there?" without feeling the need to give the reason, especially in light of the post that said that the hostess would need to know so that she could judge if it was "valid" (she may have said "legitimate", or made to "impress my girlfriend". And that I think hers is a bad attitude for a restaurant person to have. And if the waiter has left me without a fork for my main course, I'm going to ask for one no matter how busy he is. Like you, I get up very early and work very late to please customers who have requests, and nobody knows or is inconvenienced. Neither is anybody inconvenienced if they move me to another table. The next people that they go back to seat will get the table I didn't want, and nothing about the dinner service will be affected. ← I actually didn't mean you, markk, as "you." I'm sure you're always gracious. I am editing to say "one." On the other hand, if one is asking people to disrupt a non-arbitrary seating arrangement -- one created to ensure the greatest good for the greatest number -- it's not unreasonable to provide an explanation. In my experience, "impress my girlfriend" is generally considered a legitmate reason by restaurant professionals, btw. And, if the table is undesireable for you, it may well be for the party ultimately seated there. Not your problem, necessarily, but something the restaurant may need to consider.

(Thanks much to molto e for his detective work. Even on this web thing, doing homework counts) ++++++ Hmmm. A little schoolgirl crush-y. Some gratuitous French-bashing. And I'm betting there's some crusty old guys from Maine who'd road trip to Phoenix to kick this guy's ass for suggesting that Breton lobster are better than our own. And, one factual error: when I was buying oysters in the market this non-"r" July, in Uzes, there sure as hell were actual French folks in line with me. And no wonder -- if they weren't October oysters, they were still damn good. Actually -- and this doesn't necessarily contradict Tim's larger point so much as suggest that his whipping boy was ill-chosen -- it's a completely fine piece about eating in France that rests on pretty defensible position: "Food isn't merely a trendy topic of conversation [in France]; it's an elemental part of life. That's why the subject is endlessly discussed, debated and analyzed by everyone, not just elites anxious to be on top of the latest food fad." While he takes his local restaurant scene to task, this is not a self-hating American piece. And all of us, whether we've just gotten back from France (ask me about Equinox) or not can identify with this: " I had a new, independent restaurant on my review schedule for next week, the kind of place I generally look forward to. But after looking over the dispiriting menu, and with the memory of my trip still fresh, I just couldn't bring myself to go. Here is the complete list of snoozy main dishes I couldn't face: seafood linguine, herb-roasted chicken, rosemary lamb chops, filet of beef, stuffed pork tenderloin, brie risotto and catch of the day..." As they say, reality bites. Good for Howard for pointing it out. If there was more criticism and less cheerleading -- and if more people could be pursuaded of the delights of dining, rather than the efficiencies of refueling -- restaurants would be better here. Whether the French are "better" or "worse" than we are, they certainly set a reasonable example and Seftel should be lauded for pointing it put. PS: No wonder he has a crush of France. If you like seafood, Phoenix is 500 miles from the ocean and a million miles from Brittany. When I was in Denver, they kept saying "it's flown in fresh!" but it still kind of sucked.

No, I will not. I'm not trying to sound rude here (thought that may), but if I have to do what you're asking, I'll go and dine elsewhere first. If I'd prefer to sit somewhere other than where you've taken me, I don't have to question my own motives, and I don't have to justify them to you. I'll ask you nicely, for sure, but I won't do what you're suggesting. I think that your first reaction as a restaurant should be to think "whatever I can do to make this customer's dining experience more pleasureable is what I want to do, because we're in business to please our customers", and to worry about your seating plan later. ← I agree with your posts on one level -- it's not my job to make the restaurant's life better, it's the restaurant's job to make my life better. I was a waiter (as well a busboy) and have a deep understanding of how things can go good or bad in the course of a night -- how a demanding or obnoxious or just time-consuming customer can throw things off for floor staff and kitchen. But, interestingly, the experience has made me rather more demanding than less. I tried to provide excellent service when I was in the business -- (and freely admit that I was not as successful as I would have liked; the Washington restaurant scene is clearly better off with me as a customer than as an employee) -- and had the good fortune to work with both staff and management who were determined to give our customers the best. I once worked in a bar where -- no shit -- the owner lectured the waiters (as opposed to the more service-oriented bartenders) for not sleeping with enough of the female customers. My girlfriend was not amused to hear of this, but I was impressed by his commitment to his clientel (the early 80s were indeed a special time ). My time on the floor, and my years since then taught me what excellent service is and I expect it myself, even if it includes the occasional painful request. That being said, a restaurant on a crowded night does not have an infinite supply of "good service." There are a large number of people squeezing into a small space in a short time. There is, or should be, a little give and a lot of good attitude built into the system. But, at some point, providing special (unexpected) service for one table means diminishing another table's enjoyment. As a consultant, if one of my clients has a moronic, ideosynchratic or merely unexpected request (not that my clients ever do) I work late one night and get up early the next day, and my other clients never know. If you start playing moveable feast at a crowded restaurant on a Saturday night, however, you may well be screwing with someone else's dinner. That's not to say one shouldn't ask. But it to say a little explanation ("I know you're busy, but by soft tissues are acting up...") goes a long way and you should understand that special requests can't always be accommodated, without getting all pissy about it.

This phrase is memorable. It is not only exceptionally nicely turned, but also glows with a classic (not garden-variety) sort of truth. ← I think it's very gracious for someone from a country with an impeccable culinary tradition to grant equality to all others, but I beg to differ, ← Seriously, it does not seem to me that Ptipois was attempting to grant equality to all others through being gracious. I think she believes what she wrote. It's a shame, darling, that you too can not see the light. ( ) ← I'm absolutely with you, except for the disagreeing with you part. I never meant to imply that ptipois was any less than fully sincere.

One week my wife and I sat down (over a decent lunch at a nearby restaurant, back when we worked on the same block) and drew up a wonderful menu plan for the week, which we followed up with appropriate shopping and preparation. It made life endlessly easier and not a little cheaper, and dinner was good all week. That was in 1999. We've never done it since. Oh well.

This phrase is memorable. It is not only exceptionally nicely turned, but also glows with a classic (not garden-variety) sort of truth. ← I think it's very gracious for someone from a country with an impeccable culinary tradition to grant equality to all others, but I beg to differ, if only because different countries value different achievements and do different things well. We Americans can surely hold our heads high in the pantheon of nations based on our achievements in many areas. But, for all the traditional excellence behind some of our cooking, it hasn't generally been a great priority during our relatively brief existence. That's just kind of the way it is and, while there's no shame in it, there's no pretending otherwise. That's not to say that you can't get great food here, highbrow and lowbrow. I think there's a strong case to be made that New York is the best food city in the West (another thread is born!) because of the sheer variety good food available at a modest price -- not to mention those gastromic temples like Per Se and Jean-George. But the fact that so many of New York's top restaurants look to France -- and that the American culinary revolution is thought by many to have begun with a restaurant that was unabashedly francophilic -- underscores the relative thinness of our culinary tradition. And, while it is possible to get great food in the U.S. -- and, tomato-for-tomato, I'd eagerly put our greenmarkets up against the ones I've found in France -- and it's easy to get bad food in France, most Americans, most meals, just don't seem to be eating that well. And they're just as happy not to. To judge a culture (if that is permitted) is not to look at the highs and lows, but at what most people are doing most of the time, and by that standard dinner just isn't a priority here. I spent three weeks in France this summer, eating at mid-priced restaurants (nary a Michelin star in sight) and getting some home cooking done (including a memorable lunch with eG's own Bleudauvergne) in the largely rural departement of Gard and along the Cote d'Azure. What was most memorable to me was how little effort was necessary to get a very good, reasonably priced meal, and to enjoy a leisurely, lengthy lunch or dinner. Brandade, crepinettes -- when you order the budget menus you find chefs doing wonderful things with inexpensive ingredients -- invariably beautifully presented and consumed at a pace that demonstrated respect for the act of dining. My second favorite place to vacation seems to have become rural Oregon and we were there the summer before last. The Portland farmer's market is an extraordinary place and I think we ate as well around the campfire on Steamboat Creek as I have eaten lmost anywhere I've ever been. But leave the campsite and try to buy dinner in town or at the pricy resort downstream, and the food is awful. And expensive. And the wines at the local general store were bad. And expensive (relatively speaking). The less said about cheese, the better. A phrase like "culinary culture" is politically loaded, so I won't say that the culinary culture of Gard is superior to that of Oregon's. And I loved the market in Portland and what small slice of the restaurant scene I was able to explore. But, on the whole, the food is better in Gard, it's less expensive, it's eaten more elegantly (?) and the people who prepare and eat it know more about it. And to pretend that that's not true, or to say that one area is the culinary equal of the other because "there is no superior culinary tradition," is just silly. The proof of the pudding, as they say, is in the eating. Why did the Arizonan wax poetic after his French vacation? Probably because the food was better -- and more delightful -- there. I actually hear that the Italians are better than the French, though. +++++ On the meritocracy vs. anti-elitism front, it's perfectly possible for America to be both. Certainly politics in my lifetime has been marked by ongoing demonization of the intellectual left by the populist right, with not inconsiderable success. Remember Mike Dukakis? Neither do I. I don't think you can get elected to high political office without a certain amount of smarts, but I think if you called George Bush an "intellectual" to his face, he'd take a swing at you. At the same time, there is a reasonable amount of upward mobility here, despite the real problems highlighted by Pan, new immigrants and poor natives have a fairly good chance to succeed on the power of their own drive and intellect. If George Bush is stereotypically dynastic, Bill Clinton grew up poor. When it comes to food, the stereotype of the snotty French Maitre d' and the French chef doing weird things to snails and organ meats still remains strong -- there's even a whiff of backlash in this thread, as though by defending the French you're a little bit of an egghead. Or maybe oeuf-head. And, while Americans remain a bit anti-elitist about French food (which, in stereotyope, is always seen as Escoffier and never as Grand-mere) our mertitocracy is rewarding restaurants whose merits tend more towards our cultural strengths -- efficiency, standardization, a kind of faux mulitculturalism, creating wealth -- and less towards what most of us would think of as culinary excellence. I was limping through Gard's local daily, Midi-Libre, trying to improve my bad French and get a feel for where I'd be vacationing (every time I buy a crappy bottle of Red Bicyclette wine from the limited-selection bodega around the corner from my house, I tell myself that I'm doing it for the wine-growers of Gard, whose plight was an ongoing feature) and two local restauranteurs who'd just earned their first Michelin stars were on the front page. I can guarantee that the only way a chef would make the front page of an American daily would be to shoot someone. Outside the food section, we read about our restaurants on the business page, where earnings, not food, are the concern. Different countries. Different cultures. When it comes to food, I'll take the French as not just different, but better. +++++ One more bit of ramble before we go. (Not "rumble" this time, Tim. Rumble is better, btw). A possibly illuminating and possibly irrelevent juxtaposition of anecdotes regarding politics, culture and food. France: Francois Mitterand having a final meal days before his death, illegally eating endangered ortolans because they're apparently an extraordinary gourmet treat for the elite, while he and his companions covered their heads with napkins to (I've heard it two ways) hide their faces from the camera while they committed a criminal act or to ensure that all the aroma from the extraordinary delicacies made it from the plate to their noses. U.S.: George Bush ostentatiously eating pork rinds for the cameras to prove that despite Yale, he's just a good ol' boy. +++++ Edited to add: No judgements on the policies of any politician mention in this post, French or American, R or D is implied. I am merely commenting on their tactics and the symbolism involved.

I like Ethiopian very much, regardless of what year it happens to be. Last time I was in DC I chatted up one of the Somali taxi drivers, and he recommended this place for Somali food. I didn't have time to go. You wouldn't want to grab your family and trot right over there and try it for me, would you? I'd appreciate that kindly. (Besides, you *might* start a trend for 2008! ) ← I'll see what I can do for you.

And I agree that Mark is a major part of why I like Citronelle so much, even if he has personally assisted me only a couple of times, his influence on their cellar and wine service is under appreciated. ← Err, (distinctly feeling out of the loop) why on Earth isn't Mark Slater getting his due? Surely his position speaks for itself. ← IIRC, the last couple of years, Slater and his list have been conspicuously absent from Washingtonians occasional analysis of the quality wine programs around town.

Sadly, that's often the best that can be said of MM these days. Admittedly, the quality of an earlier incarnation of MM (and Breadline) spoiled us. You only have to go down to Whole Foods and get one of their artesian-ish boules to realize how comparatively good Marvellous is. There are still probably entire states where you can't get bread that good. But one pines for the pain of the glory days.

Minneapolis has a large Somali community. Is the cusine similar to Ethiopian? Make that 1969 and I'll be there! SB (likes produce, flatbread, espresso, whole grain and pomegranates) ← Although the Somalis are a fairly recognizable group in DC, as they've taken over a significant share of the taxi business , they haven't carved out a neighborhood or a restaurant niche, so I can't compare. Ethiopian is characterized by spicy stew-type preparations and is eaten not with utensils but with bits of injera, a malty, elastic bread roughly the shape but not nearly the texture of an uncooked pizza crust.

I'm either way ahead of the curve, or completely out of it, but I won't miss any of the above? SB (most likely "out of it") ← Dude. Come to DC for the weekend. We'll have you missing Ethiopian cuisine by the time you leave. And consumme -- has it been "in"since the 50's? I don't think so. Is the fact that people aren't smart enough to eat it whenever they can get it (or chefs aren't devoted enough to do it right) a damning commentary on our cooking? Definitely! And the fewer people trying tomunch my sweetbreads, the better. As to the hot list: I think we're going to party like it's 1989.

Yes, kudos to Tim for a provocative piece.

Regarding point five I think the point was not to unduly poo poo (sp) other cuisines because they could never be compared favorably to the French. Second, bitters are ales because they are made with top fermenting ale yeast. Do you live in Adams Morgan? Because other areas of DC are not quite so hip or liberal. ← Well, John Kerry polled 90% in 2004 and ward 3, which has a hell of a lot of rich white people running around and is our most conservative ward, went 78% for him, so almost everyone in DC is Liberal. And the realm of the hipster has spread well beyond Adams-Morgan and also includes key sections of the close-in suburbs. Of course, for these purposes the term "hispter" includes a bunch of people buying $400,000 condos in neighborhoods they would have been afraid to walk through ten years ago and aging Bobos like myself -- gentrification's shock troops, if you will -- whose hip glasses are actually bifocals but who stubbernly refuse to move to the suburbs for the schools. Maybe "trendsters" would be a better word. The point, though, was that the trend toward a "hipper" lifestyle has a symbiotic relationship with the spread of Ethiopian and other downscale ethnic restaurants. But the fact that they benefit from this trend -- as French Cuisine benefitted from a trendy francophilia back in the day -- can't be taken as a demonstration that they have no innate value apart from their fashionableness. In other words no guilt by association.

I first stumbled into this policy at Legal Seafoods -- which is one of the reasons I've never liked the place -- 20-odd years ago. I actually don't mind it at "tapas" bars -- munchies are munchies, even of they're really good -- but it is annoying at other places. One patch that can be installed is the old "why don't we just have the tuna carpaccio and the shrimp now, and we'll order the rest of the food later" ploy. I am convinced, cynic that I am (and because I am almost certain this was the case at Legal's as I had a friend working there) that this policy springs in large part from the fact that it allows restaurants to hire less experienced, and thus less expensive, kitchen staff.

In Britain that comment would have most people scratching their heads, not least at CAMRA. Ale is simply an another word for beer, of which bitter is one of the types. Oh, and to be pedantic, if you were pro-bitters....(click) ← Can I say "pro-lager?" Given the percentage of my too-brief time in England spent sitting at bars, I feel confident in suggesting many British pubs offer-- on tap, anyway -- a variety of fermented malt beverages as often as not differentiated by variety ( butters, lager, stout etc) as by brand. Of course, given the percentage of my too-brief time in England spent sitting at bars... (BTW, not trying to be so much pro-French or anti-british (props to British cheesemakers, btw, to whomever mentioned them. I don't think they get the credit they deserve) as pro aggressive, realistic commentary.)

Oh, you can do that with neckbones and feet. Hocks deserve alittle more respect.

All right, there’s no good TV on until the Daily show, so let’s start at the beginning. Tim’s interesting and thought provoking article seems to trace the following logic: 1) That an article in an Arizona newspaper was “weak-minded, unthinking dreck” of the same type thrown up by self-flagellating British culino-scribblers, solely because the because the Arizonan bemoaned the abundance of “incurably crap food” in his world in comparison with what he (she?) found in France. 2) Any unfavorable comparison of one’s own food to the French is rooted in “blinkered, romanticized Francophilia,” which, in the case of the UK, is rooted fashion and in the U.S., is of indeterminate origin. 3) It is “important to understand [arts, including culinary] its historical and cultural context… but without an understanding of the web of national, cultural and class preconceptions behind it, the statement is pointless.” 4) Thus, writing nice things about French food in 2006 “displays a complete lack of objective [that word!] taste, zero knowledge of food history and an almost criminal ignorance of a wider world of food appreciation,” particularly if one compares it favorably to ones own food. 5) Criticism that renders normative judgments is illegitimate and pre-modern. To which I would answer 1) It seems rather unsporting to throw up an anonymous straw man who is not even quoted at sufficient length (that is, at all) for a reader to draw any conclusion about the work itself. The fact that the argument is boring (or that the prose is “florid”) has no bearing on whether or not it is true. 2) It simply possible that an appreciation for French Culinary culture in preference to one’s own is rooted in the fact that French culinary culture is better than one’s own, rather than the fact that one is a self-hating, social-climbing Anglo-Saxon. Difficult as it is to quantify these things (especially, as Ptipois emphasizes, across very different cultures) there are any number of objective factors that can be looked at. Does a country have a climate and an economy that produces and distributes high quality ingredients? Is cooking a respected vocation or avocation? What’s up with the cheese? Not every country cooks as good as every other one. Also, one can be pro-French without being anti-whatever. I’m pro-Burgundy myself, but I like Bordeax (in England: pro-bitters, but not anti-ale). 3) In an essay that rumbles from history to publishing to art to fashion, precious little ink is spent on the question whether the food was any good, on either side of the Channel (or the Atlantic) in any particular era. You’d think you’d want to establish that at some point before going into the other bits. We’re not eSocialHistorian here. 4) See number 3. It’s important for a historian to understand arts in a historic, cultural context. For food wonks like us, it brings enjoyment to dining. But a judgment on a contemporary food culture has to be rooted in the quality of the meals being served now. You don’t look at a Ford and say “Ford introduced mass production and living wages to the United States,” and then at a Toyota and say “they helped lead through its post-war recovery (or made warplanes in WWII)” and make decision based on history and culture. You take ’em for a test drive. 5) The purpose of criticism is to both inform and guide, in either case one has to sometimes provide normative judgments: “this is good,” “this bad,” “this one is better than the other one.” Not that everything can or should be ranked and compared. But judgments have to be passed. Otherwise we’ll be wandering aimlessly around, rewarding (or not) excellence and indifference equally, missing the new and unique, overlooking the small and beautiful. Good critics, in any discipline, help us help the deserving to succeed and goad the mediocre to improve. (And yes, I believe I believe it’s entirely possible for one region, culture or nation to be objectively “better” than another for a variety of reasons, which probably nobody cares about right now. And that America lags.) Want to write that the French are overrated and the English are underrated, I’m willing to read. Prefer to spend energy illuminating overlooked aspects of a country’s food and wine rather than on pointless comparisons, (or vent because you’ve been forced to read essentially the same article for the 400th time)? I’m there. Suggest that critics shouldn’t call them as they see them, because our visions are obscured by (or blind to) complex historic and cultural factors, or because “it’s all subjective” or “mean” or “disloyal?” I’m not buyin'. ***** PS: I would stand by 90% of the little (tongue-in-cheek) anti-Bobo bit, (applied broadly, not just to Heather, who burns my Replacements CDs for me) but because I think that there are huge social, educational and intellectual class issues tied to the relatively recent (broad) embrace of “authentic” ethnic cooking (outside of certain areas, so you New York guys can sit down, now). But the fact that 95% of the non-Ethiopians in DC-area Ethiopian restaurants tonight are left-ish college-educated or –bound persons from a families with an above-average incomes, many of them in distressed leather clothing and sporting cool hair and glasses, does not mean that they are only there because it is now fashionable for a certain class of people to go to Ethiopian restaurants. They are there because it’s good stuff. Likewise, those 19th Century Francophilic Brits? They might have had a real appreciation for the food, as well. Call it supply-side fashion -- the quality of the desired object makes it fashionable.

Relativist PoMo hippies don't eat at chain restaurants. Besides, in my subjective opinion, Chili's tastes like crap. ← A subjectivity, my friend, informed by fashionable embrace by the bourgeois of "authenticity"and "ethnicity" in post-Kerouak era that led to a fascination with indiginous cooking, Rolling Rock beer and decible-heavy three-chord pop-music played by semi-literate proles. It's likely that you live in a zip code that votes heavily Democratic, that you own at least one Replacements album, that many of your posessions are hand-glazed. (cf "Bobos in Paradise). Rejection of strip-mall food (except in Riverdale and certain quarters of Queens, Northern Virginia and Orange County) is merely another way for the elite to differentiate and lift themselves above the hoi polloi by asserting superior taste, intellect, and tolerance -- the culinary equivalent of an expensively distressed leather jacket or that twenty-dollar-a-pound fair trade coffee. Or maybe Chili's does suck in a relatively certain fashion and maybe, though it lies not in the fields of La Belle France, culinary Valhalla is even further from the air-conditioned high-rises and gallerias of Phoenix.

Oh, absolutely. I am reasonably positive that there is better Southwestern/Mexican food available in Phoenix than anywhere in France - setting aside the relative merits of Mexican vs. French cuisine. ← My girlfriend is French and I am slowly introducing her to the wonders of Southwestern cuisine with all of its spicy goodness. ← I would almost feel jealous of your girlfriends adventure in authenic Southwestern Cusine, but I just realized that, objectively speaking, the local Chili's just as worthy and good. See y'all at the strip mall!

Not being Nicoise, the consistency of the menu doesn't bother me, as it might someone who gets to Vieux Nice more than once every other year. And we were pleased to have a meal I quite enjoyed -- 6 or 7 courses for the three of us, and lots of wine -- for 90 euros or so. Given the cost of seaside dining, I thought it reasonable. I was unconcerned that the chef did not break a sweat. Sorry about your squash blossoms. I thought the food was very good, though I am mystified that anyone would call oxtail or stockfish refined -- I have never seen it called such. (one-star [stille?] L'Universe Christian Plumail was pretty refined and that might fit Lenny's needs, now that we're on the subject). And I've never judged a kitchen by how busy the chef looks, just what's on the plate. Obviously, I can't engage you in a detailed argument on the pros and cons of various restaurants in Nice. But my wife and I have been a lot of places and eaten a lot of meals. In a city with a lot of crappy food available, at prices not much less than LM (I've eaten bad blossoms, too, and I'm sure you know that the smell of burning grease is hardly confined to the environs surrounding La Merenda). I find La Merenda to be a fun place, featuring cooking I can't get at home, of high quality, at reasonable prices. I don't revere it, but I like it. I think Lenny should drop by and provide a third opinion. One thing it occurs to me that you might be able advise on (since we seem to be Bush v. Chirac on La Merenda ) is a seafood/shellfish spot. I was in Nice this summer but a lot of things I was looking forward to eating again -- like violets and sea urchins -- were out of season. Since my wife and I hope to get back, and we're on the subject, any suggestions you might have will be noted for future reference.

Our 40 minutes at the Ventemiglia market (admittedly on Friday) was the worst 40 minutes of our summmer vacation (as soon as we saw the mob scene and trashy good for sale, we turned back around and got on the train). Contrary to degusto's experience, my two meals at La Merenda have been wonderful and well-priced for the quality and location. Try the stockfish or the pasta pistou. (That's the chef's bike parked in front, btw) Though neither meal included the squash blossoms, we did spot the Chef from La Merenda buying them in the pretty darn good Nice Market the morning after we ate there. And, of course, there's street food everywhere you go. Mark Bittman in the New York Times likes Chez Pahlmyre, and we did, too. And the whole meal costs less than those La Merenda squash blossoms, I believe.

Those sound the kind of hocks that, in decent quantity, make excellent "pigs feet." Braised in a strong stock, picked from the bone, spiced and rolled in foil (the collagen from the hocks holds them together like a lucious balony once it cools), then sliced and fried and served with a small salad and a gribiche sauce mmmmmmmmmmm. Do you have the Bouchon cookbook? More piggies.

No no no. If it is hard to quantify then isn't it merely a subjective opinion?** (My emphasis in the original.) How is it honest to point out that X is better than Y in matters of subjective opinion?**I am pretty sure Heidegger would have something to say to me about that statement, but I can't objectively say what it might be. ← So, anything that can't be easily be quantified is subjective? Truth, beauty (beauty, truth), Shakespeare's talent relative to John Grisham, the dinner you had last night versus the one you'll have tomorrow; justice, culture and "progress?"

The term "hocks" can be imprecisely used. I had a hamhock and beans for dinner last night, it fit in a soup bowl. I bought a pair of hocks at the market last weekend, they're about as long a the long side of a business envelope, and have a promising girth. How much do they weigh? Do they have the trotters? Do they include most of the forelegs (do pigs have calves?) ?