Busboy

Ella's is pretty much the best pizza i've had in the area...I like it better than Patsy's in NYC and I think it beats out Sette, which I work right next to and eat at all the time, as well as Paradiso. Italian store in Arlington is great as well. ← The one time I had Ella's, it was truly dreadful. I mean, never go back again and make a face every time you walk by it from then on dreadful. Matchbox is not to my taste, but its pie does demand respect.

Having looked closely at the photos in TFL Cookbook and a tamis that I believe to have been the same brand at a cookware storel the mesh not particularly fine, so you should do well with any fine $3.99 strainer. The advantage of the tamis is that it is just quicker aznd easier to mess with. I picked up a cheap model made from bamboo and what appears to be window screen for something like 25 bucks in a restaurant supply warehouse in Pensacola Florida. It's a finer mesh than the one Thomas uses and costs about $200 less than the one I found at Dean and DeLuca (admittedly not a discount store). Well worth the investment if you can find an inexpensive one.

I knew one of you more articulate and knowledgable wine conisseurs would come up with a more appropriate and elegant word. (speaking of "flatter" )

My back-ups are never as good as my first choices. More like those mini spare tires on cars -- better than nothing, but far from a first choice.

When I get an old bottle like this I buy a backup just in case (and then drink both ), though a good vintage champagne like Bollinger should, as Christopher said, hold up for many years. Do be aware, though, that older vintages tend to be -- to vastly oversimplify -- a little "flatter," if you will, and "nuttier" tasting. Also richer and more complex (say the afficianadoes, including my brother-in-law, who once laid some excellent old Krug on me). If you're expecting it to taste like a youngster you may miss some of the enjoyment while trying to puzzle out what's going on.

And without apology! Though not, generally, for "real" cooking. I never view texbooks as religious texts --not even Kellers' -- and so have no problem disregarding advice I disagree with. I always thought that was the great thing about being the chef in the family -- everything tastes the way you think it should. I don't want to make your head explode or anything, but there's a great cookbook by Julia and Jacques called Julia and Jacques Cooking at Home in which the dynamic duo present conflicting recipes for the same dishes, meaning you'll have to take either one as the gospel or the other -- but not both. It's kind of like when mommy and daddy fight, or when there's one pope in Avignon and another in Rome. Very troubling. Not, perhaps, coincidentally, when cooking from the book my wife often chooses on approach while I choose the other. No gender correlation established yet.

I thought that was just the way one ate fish. I always pull the backbone and ribs out becuase, especially with a delicate fish, it keeps the little bugger from crumbling onto the plate. Plus, it's just cool to play with the bones that way. At least I know that no boats have flipped on my account.

I love Maldon but it's not fleur de sel, is it? My house fds is an inexpensive Portuguese alternative called "salt cream" or something which I get from The Spice House. It is clearly not on a par with the French stuff though. I think the one I like best has "Fleur de Sel de Camargue" on the label but it may have another brand name too. ← I believe the brand is "Baleine," and it is great stuff. Among my stupid parental moves is to get two kids to where they don't thing the fried potatoes taste right unless they have fleur du sel on them. If Maldon is free-flowing and flaky, it's very different from the fds I'm used to.

Anything I say can and will be used against me. Actually, thanks to this thread, I learned a little bit more about Right Bank wines and am eager to explore the Fronsacs, Lalande de Pomoroles and other less-famous appellations which just might get me back under $40. This does not mean that I'm not still bitter that I have to chose between a case of Petrus and my son's freshman tuition, however.

Hah. Every time I gofrom DC to Europe I get stuck with a layover at JFK. I'll ask you next time. Anyway, this thread has plenty of suggestions. Despite Takomabaker's fears, I know for a fact that you can do downtown-to-Dulles in 30 minutes if the traffic gods are with you. But I'd stick to the NoVa area -- the gods are fickle. Are you travelling on a weekend? How much cab fare are you willing to spend?

A local cheese guy turned be on to raisin-nut bread. Great for smushy cheeses. I usually hold the Sauternes for a fruit dessert after (though I love Sauternes with a farmhouse cheddar and a fresh peach on the front porch in July), and just go with a good, ripe red. Actually, if it's a large gathering, we usually drink the last of whatever three or five bottles have been nearly drained up until the cheese course, while my wife and I argue about who's going to serve dessert. Given the variety of cheeses, trying for an exact match seems futile. Got any fruit compot? Also, a little rosemary-infused olive oil for the Garottxa (been hanging in Spain, have we?), or even some sundried tomatoes spilled over the top might be swell. Not sure what your onion confit recipe calls for, but a little vinaigre de Xerex dribbled in while you're confiting always seems to bring out the sweet. Particularly appropriate, of course, if your wine comes from Xerex, too.

The argument is: 1. Most production of goods like coffee takes place in large plantations; this is unlikely to change 2. Most workers who grow and harvest coffee are employed by these plantations 3. Fairtrade schemes are not open to large plantations - only to small cooperatives 4. Therefore paying higher prices for Fairtrade coffee will bring no benefits to the majority of coffee plantation workers If coffee plantation workers could simply leave jobs on plantations and go to work for higher-paying, Fairtrade-endorsed cooperatives, then wages might rise on large plantations too. But I suspect the coffee plantation labour market doesn't work that way. ← The flaw in the argument is the first premise, that things are inevitable because they exist. Existence does not imply immutability, desirability, or defensibility. Plantation labor (at least in Central and South America) essentially operates the way that mining towns were run in this country. ← All good points. But, not to get all practical, I don't see agriculture -- or any industry -- getting any less centralized any time soon. I am certainly in favor of supporting small producers and co-ops, if only for emotional reasons, but it seems that the more effective way to lift the status of agricultural workers would be to address it as a labor problem, rather than a commodity pricing problem. This article raises huge numbers of interesting questions if you put your wonk hat on and run with them. What is the relationship between fertilizer and insecticide and yield, especially compared with the benefits of cross-breeding and (gasp) bioengineering? What if we we cut our meat intake by a third' in addition to the benefits to our watersheds and (it is said) atmospheric CO2 level, how many acres now planted in feed-grains would this free up for less-efficient organic growing? What if we just eliminated first-world farm subsidies? What is the cost of ethanol in terms of loss of agricultural land? I hate it when flashing my Amex at Whole Foods doesn't solve the world's porblems.

I just fixed the link, which was off for a few moments, if you didn't get a chance to read the full article. link here, as well. Corporate farmworkers -- who outnumber the small growers in the fairtrade program -- derive no benefit from the fairtrade premium customers pay. It's an inefficient way to attack third-world poverty. "Another objection to Fairtrade is that certification is predicated on political assumptions about the best way to organise labour. In particular, for some commodities (including coffee) certification is available only to co-operatives of small producers, who are deemed to be most likely to give workers a fair deal when deciding how to spend the Fairtrade premium. Coffee plantations or large family firms cannot be certified. Mr Bretman says the rules vary from commodity to commodity, but are intended to ensure that the Fairtrade system helps those most in need. Yet limiting certification to co-ops means “missing out on helping the vast majority of farm workers, who work on plantations,” says Mr Wille of the Rainforest Alliance, which certifies producers of all kinds." Regarding the "larger question here: what are the physical and social consequences for modifying the way the world grows, distributes, and consumes its foodstuffs and the consequences for not modifying the former" the article is thought provoking precisely because it does just that, from an approach rarely taken. It tweaks the "save the world by shopping" mentality that marks everything from the U.S. response to 9/11 to oil dependency. "We," I guess, is those of us looking at that larger question you mentioned.

Eat local, eat fair, eat organic -- save the planet. Right? Not that easy, according to The Economist. Doing all those things may make your affluent Northern Hemisphere self feel all warm and fuzzy -- and will almost certainly put a better dinner on the table. But, according to this article , so-called "ethical eating" can have huge negative consequences for the earth and those who till it. Take organic food. Good stuff. No chemical runoff or accumulation of nasties in our livers, spleens and other useful body parts. Unfortunately, yields for organic growing are vastly lower than for high-tech farming. How many acres of rainforest do we want to chop down to make up the extra acreage we'd need if the world went organic? Fairtrade coffee? Encourages overproduction, which drives prices down further for non-fairtrade farmers, discourages diversification in the face of overproduction. Also, since fairtrade revenues go only to small peasant farmers, the vast majority of agricultural workers -- who work on larger operations -- get nothing, and are indeed hurt by lower commodity prices. Oh yeah -- now that Nestles is in on that game we can also suggest that fairtrade products are little more than a device to identify price-insensitive consumer, and that the vast majority of the premium we pay goes into corporate coffers and not peasants' pockets. And "food miles" is at best a mixed bag, not only because it is more inefficient for you to drive a car to a (relatively) far off farmers market than for distributors to efficiently transport food to your local grocery store. It's also because sometimes it's simply more energy efficient to produce a commodity offshore -- New Zealand lamb, for example, or Mexican tomatoes ratrher than local hothouse varieties (save energy: boycott both) -- than to grow the stuff here at home. And, of course, if you're buying local, you can't be buying those fairtrade fruits from poor farmers in developing nations. Sadly, it is arguable that buying local, organic berries isn't really changing the world. If we want to do that, we'll have to make tough electoral decisions about farm subsidies, energy taxes and so on. Or so The Economist Says.

when did Graves cross the river? I thought that it was still in south west Bordeaux in 1998. ← To get to the other side! Oh. When did Graves cross the river. Never mind. Perhaps JohnL was referring to Graves de Veyres, which I had never heard of but which appears to be tucked into the right bank quite close to St. Emillion, Fronsac etc.

You know, none of my women friends are like the girl who wrote the article. But a couple of years waiting tables taught me that there are a more than a few women like that out there. Live and let live.

Lovely article. I'm sorry I came to Apple late--I just began noticing his by-line in the last couple of years. I'll have to do some trolling on Lexis-Nexis soon. ← Or just click here.

Full story here.

Next gift certificate...

I'd be curious to have someone who's been to the FL eat at CityZen and do a compare and contrast. You could be just the guy!

I can’t stop thinking about the pizza. Spain gave us Dali, Surrealism and Jose Andres, who took clam chowder apart and spun cotton candy around morsels of foie gras. France gave us Monet, Impressionism and Michelle Richard, who puts tradition in the sous-vide and brings it back with brighter colors and softer edges, almost always with a sly wink or two: risotto made of cuttlefish or “Chinese” duck breast with potato rice. And Iowa gave us Grant Wood, solid Midwestern values and Eric Ziebold, who serves pizza and boiled beef on his $120 tasting menu. The pizza is made with a nutty little Emmenthaler or Gruyer (I think), rather than mozzarella. There's and egg on top, sunny side up. And when the server drops it on the tables, another server strolls up and starts shaving white truffles all over it, smiling at the awsome power to do good that the truffle-shaver wields, leaving enough atop the odd little pie to suggest that they've learned from Thomas Keller’s lament that many people don’t “get” truffles because restaurants don’t slice up enough onto their food for the guest to appreciate them. On cutting, the egg yolk (which has been nesting with the truffles up until the moment of preparation) spills onto the cheese, creating a great, gloppy mess that looks like diner food in the hands of two drunks at 3AM and tastes so rich and divine that you scarf it up as though you were one of those late night drunks -- and you wake up the next morning thinking first not of your wife, whose birthday you were celebrating and who should indeed be celebrated, but of the pizza. It’s like a love hangover. The whole meal was grand, actually, all 84 courses. OK, maybe not dessert number two, something creamy with Jerusalem artichokes (?) that I couldn’t quite grok. But the last dessert, the little bit of chocolate thingy – silver dollar-sized and it crunched for an instant in your mouth before disappearing into the ether, leaving behind only an intense chocolate aftertaste, topped with a quail-egg quenelle of white chocolate – abolished any thoughts that you might be somewhere besides DC’s newest four-star room. One thing I liked about CityZen was that it’s the kind of place you could take a good friend who is “afraid” of post-modern, neo-nano cuisine. Not that I’m against foams and sous-vide and minimalist platings and all that, but it’s nice to have simple stuff like beef cheek and cabbage, too. Even nicer when the cabbage is thin-sliced and incorporated into a butter sauce and the cheek is balanced with a good-sized chunk of foie gras – and the whole thing is served at the intersection of comfort food and haute cuisine. This is not to imply that the cooking was somehow fusty or rustic or backwards-looking. It’s not. It’s contemporary cooking that recalls that the primary purpose of a meal is to nourish, not impress. It’s self-effacing in a way – unless you stop and think about it you can almost miss the hard work that goes into making this “simple” food taste so good. Not to beat the Keller connection to death -- Ziebold was at the FL for eight years -- but if you’ve ever tried to cook from one of Kellers cookbooks, you know the level of detail that goes into his food. I got the impression that the same detail work was going on at CityZen. Of course, butter-poached lobster really is pretty simple. But does anything really taste better? (Actually, maybe the creamy lobster broth that came out as our second amuse: hot and frothy and spiked with just enough salt to jump-start the taste buds.) But the elegant square of toro which, at first glance, was simply sitting there reveling in its own wonderfulness, was rendered even more wonderful by resting it on a papaya confit, a onion marmalade and ume gelée. A lot of work for a dish that could fit on a demitasse saucer. Fusion without faddishness. There was a lot more going on, so much so that my wife tried to beg off of a couple of courses, causing Chef Ziebold (who – full disclosure -- we’d had the pleasure of meeting a couple of days before) to loom alarmedly over the table until we assured him that it was a capacity and not a quality problem. Likewise, since I was having way too much fun to take notes, I have to limit my comments regarding Sommelier Andy Myers excellent wine pairings except to say that it was an interesting look at California’s ability to produce fine wine in so many different “foreign” styles, including excellent Riesling, Syrah and Pinot. (When I asked Andy about it he said that there was no conscious California emphasis, it’s just what he thought would work well.) One of just four Washington Post four-star restaurants in the region – and the newest – CityZen seems to be firing on all cylinders. Eric is not only a brilliant chef but a genuinely nice guy, it is almost as enjoyable to see him succeed as it is to eat his food. And it is said that the bar menu (which I haven’t tried) is the greatest bargain on earth. And the pizza is the best in town.

What a lovely compliment. However, if a wine is strikingly delicious why would you want it to be heavier...? ← um...because Robert Parker told me I like "massive, alcoholic, jammy fruit bombs"? Or maybe because the too-rare good bottles of wine I've been drinking lately have been Rhones. On thinking about your post, it did occur to me the "light" impression was kind of a first impression, and not one that I worried about once I started drinking it. It seemed pretty un-tight (open? loose?) to me. The salesman reccomended it specifically as being ready to drink, at one point offering up anpther vintage which, he implied, might be a "better" year but which was coming along more slowly. Generally speaking, is it true that (as I have heard) merlot-based wines mature more quickly than cabs? ← You people kill me!!!! Always complaining how Parker is soooo influential then constantly citing him. I am not sure what he has to do with a discussion of the 98 Certan de May. Unless every discussion about every wine is an opportunity for a snarky comment or two! FYI (for the record) Parker's assessment was that the wine is: Good--showing some degree of finesse and flavor as well as character with no noticeable flaws. And he is in agreement with you (or you him) that the wine is a "little light" noting that there was a lack of concentration in the mid palate. By the way very similar to Tanzer's initial impressions (though he revised his opinion upward at a more recent tasting). So what's the big deal. I would love to see that e-mail or memo or ---where Parker tells you what you like. We could have a discussion about tasting terms here--weight, lightness, finesse (actually finesse is not a reconized descriptor (but we all know what folks mean) body, mouthfeel. I think that it is probably concentration of flavors that applies here. Certan de May is usually not a "big" wine (mouth feel) though your point of reference is important to what you are trying to convey. Most reviews I have seen seem to be in agreement that in 1998 Certan de May did not live up to expectations--this was a very strong vintage for the right bank (I bought a lot of them). The 98 is also not up to snuff in comparing Certan vintage to vintage. That is not to say (and no one has) that the wine is not a good wine that is enjoyable to drink. Your wine salesman seems to be passing on a tried and true means of obtaining good values--"off" vintages can provide some very nice wines for early drinking at nice prices. Looks like you got a good deal. Finally. The ultimate example of Merlot would be Petrus--to make the point attempted in the references to Cheval Blanc. Petrus is app 95% Merlot. There are a number of very fine merlots made here in the USA: Havens, Truchard, Beringer, Pride etc--lots of styles--make good merlots. Look for wines from Pomerol and St Emilion as well as Canon Fronsac etc. ← I think reviews are interesting and often educational for non-professionals like me and, in this case, RP's note came with a little bit of a moral: no one's taste is more important than your one. Not even critics with a Legion of Honor. I should thank the critics who found it an underperformer -- they are probably responsible for making the bottle affordable for me. And now that I've tried the underperformaer, maybe I can save a few pennies and see what an overachiever tastes like. In the mean time, I'll check out some of WKL's recommendations (Thanks). Anecdote: Years ago I was at a tasting being held by a small but decent shop in Denver (Love Pharmacy -- liquor and drugs) but the reps (not store employees) had brought mostly cruddy wine. What I remembered someone asked one of the pourers/salespeople if he had any Merlot -- this being when Merlot was hot, hot, hot -- and he said "no, we only do French wine, and the French don't use Merlot." Didn't buy anything from him.

On the one hand, it is no more work to haul a $35.00 steak from the from the kitchen than it is to haul a six-dollar burger, or to serve a $100 wine than a $20 wine (wine service at a formal restaurant is much more time consuming than serving beer, not only presenting and opening it but pouring it, as well, so that analogy fails). On the other hand, you are getting a substantially more experienced server, more personalized service and one hopes, much better service. A waiter at a beer joint is likely as not to be a college student, actor or some other screw-up of modest competence paying the rent until they discover what they really want to do in life (or, in the case of the actor, are discovered). A server at a top restaurant is probably a skilled professional who has made a long-term decision to be in the food service industry. They don't just make more money because they're serving more expensive food, they earn more money because they are better and more experienced at their jobs. In an office, if you are talented, you go from clerk to manager to executive. In the restaurant business, if you are talented (aside from those who move into, say, maitre d' or sommelier roles) you move up by going from Moe's to Cheesecake Factory to Le Cirque, and your earnings increrease accordingly.

What a lovely compliment. However, if a wine is strikingly delicious why would you want it to be heavier...? ← um...because Robert Parker told me I like "massive, alcoholic, jammy fruit bombs"? Or maybe because the too-rare good bottles of wine I've been drinking lately have been Rhones. On thinking about your post, it did occur to me the "light" impression was kind of a first impression, and not one that I worried about once I started drinking it. It seemed pretty un-tight (open? loose?) to me. The salesman reccomended it specifically as being ready to drink, at one point offering up anpther vintage which, he implied, might be a "better" year but which was coming along more slowly. Generally speaking, is it true that (as I have heard) merlot-based wines mature more quickly than cabs?

I'm sure it wasn't just Sideways. There's the oceans of truly awful merlot that were foisted on an unwary public, the kind of wine that made you ask: "if you can get a drinkable cab (probably Chilean) for twelve bucks, why pay more for a merlot that tastes like sweat socks?" Whatever the reason, merlot has become the white zinfandel of the 21st Century, spurned by people who know little more about wine than which animals are on what labels -- and that merlot sux. Father-in-law had kicked us a long-neglected gift certificate at a good local wine shop in DC and, as he was visiting, we thought we'd cash it in, and gave the salesman carte blanche. He recommended a '98 Certan de May (Pommerol) (vintage not beloved by RP, fwiw) as drinking well and on sale, and we bought two bottles for $49.99 each. Wow! A little light but strikingly delicious. I'll spare you you any attempt at tasting notes until we open the second bottle, but certainly one of the best and probably the most eye-opening bottle I've had all year. Made me wonder why it's been so long since I brought a bottle of something like this home. It also made mewonder if anyone else had any suggestions for mid-priced (or less) French merlots. Apparently you don't have to drink Petrus (or Trotanoy) to have a good time. I need more. Much more.