Busboy

The Washington Post Magazine had a long and insightful piece on one of America's best French Chef's, Michel Richard, yesterday. The article's author, April Witt, will be taking questions on-line at 2PM Eastern (U.S.). Questions can be submitted now. Also note the many quotes offered up by Washington's best sommelier and eGullet contributor Mark Slater (Marksommelier). The article is well worth a read.

Indeed, it is a European phenomenon, not just a French one. I remember many years ago, on a high school trip to Europe, staying with a German family overnight. They had obviously read their tip sheets on the care and feeding of Americans, and served plentiful ice with our Fantas at dinner. When the family's own children asked for ice, however, they were severly "shushed" and told "Das ist kalt genug fur du" -- "it's cold enough for you." I did notice some acknowledgement of the record heat wave this year: people were dropping ice cubes in their wine (vin du pays, of course, not the good stuff) and our inevitable demis of rose started arriving in icebuckets, rather than just being sat on the table. The truly troubling aspect of this ice-free existance was when we picked up a cooler and those re-usable "ice" blocks at the Carrefour, thinking that we'd hit the market on the way out of Uzes and have a stock of cheese, cured meats, oysters etc. for the next few days. We never did find more ice, or a hotel room with a freezer for the fake ice, and so by the third say we were unable to open the cooler for fear of causing an environmental disaster. Luckily, we had gotten ride of the oysters early on.

My daughter speaks four words French: "merci," "pardon," "frites," and "canicule". Our two summer visits to France have coincided with the two worst heat waves in memory. Brutal as it is to survive temperatures in the 40s -- upper 90s and over for you Farenheit-dependant Americans -- without air conditioning, there's a certain logic to the lack thereof: a/c is expensive to install, you're in 300-year-old buildings, it's not that hot that often etc..... But why no ice? Here in America, every 7-11 has 10 pound bags available cheap and every bar and restaurant has an icemaker in the back, chugging away. You go to a hotel here, and you ask for a room far from the ice machine, because there's one on every floor, and it's noisy. In France, you might get two ice cubes in your coke, one in your pastis. The wine bucket has -- in American terms -- barely enough ice to chill a single Diet Sprite, much less the liter of rose you just ordered. I just spent three weeks in France and saw one single ice cooler, and it appeared to be out of service. This summer saw the first big heat wave since 2003 (my last visit) and the newspapers were full of advice on how to survive. But did any of the articles mention an ice machine? No! What's up with that? France is a modern, Western, technologically sophisticated nation. Every Frenchman has access to a fine health care system, weeks of vacation and a guranteed pension. Why not ice?

My thoughts on the subject here.

Welcome Chickenlover and willmmmm (who first posted when I was on vacation) and thanks for your reports from the front lines of restaurant weekj. We look forward to more reports and, if you have any questions on the DC board or anything else here, please don't heasitate to PM.

Ducked into Ray’s The Classics, now getting up to speed in lovely downtown Silver Spring, on Wednesday night and find myself eager to return for a more leisurely and ,ore thorough tiptoe through the menu in the very near future. The setting and the servers are elegant, the wine list is well-chosen and dirt cheap, and the food is delish. Anyone who’s been to owner Michael Landrum’s first establishment, Ray’s the Steaks, will find a number of old friends on the menu, from the Devilish Eggs (hard-boiled eggs stuffed with steak tartar) to the beloved crab bisque, to the 30 oz Cowboy Steak with Diablo sauce. But RTC ups the ante with a number of other fish and meat dishes, including classics like Veal Oscar, local favorite Rockfish, and a Fried Chicken platter that is already developing a cult following. Our highlights included a Flintstones-sized Berkshire (pig) pork chop with red cabbage and mustard sauce which has become pretty much the new benchmark for pork in my book, sausage biscuits with cheese gravy that are simultaneously uptown and down home, and a “wild yeast” bread served with four spreads, including a superb chicken liver and two kinds of schmaltz (making RTC possibly the only restaurant in the world that excels in chicken liver and schmaltz, and in pork chops). And, as much as I love the bustling Ray’s the Steaks, there’s something in me that makes me love the onglet with horseradish sauce even better when it’s served on a linen tablecloth, in an air of relative calm, after a spot of gin. Now there’s a Ray’s for my every mood. Prices are good, and I am eager to test my theory that the more you spend, the more you save. Entrees run five or ten dollars cheaper than one would expect at a steakhouse of this quality, and include a choice of salads, including a tasty warm dandelion mix. But my first impression was that the sides and appetizers, which really run up the cost of steakhouse dining, were even more of a bargain. And, while I will leave it to the experts to fully analyze the wine list, it appears to offer even more impressive bargains than the menu, with a vast selection under $40. The restaurant has been open less than a month and, as one expects, there were brief moments when dinner felt like a preseason game: a couple of the dishes are still being tweaked; the service is delightful but incompletely polished. Coach Landrum is, however, on top of everything and God knows if the Redskins hit their regular season in the same form RTC is showing after less than three weeks, it’s going to be a very good year all around. I suspect that RTC is only going to get better, but get there now, while everyone else is at the beach. Special mention should be given Chef Michael Hartzer and his team who, according to Landrum, have been given free reign in the kitchen, (while Landrum dons a necktie and plays Maitre d’). They appear to have mastered the art of mixing “classic” and “new” in a way that comforts, if you will, but challenges, as well. And tastes great. We will be back. PS: RTC also has a full service bar offering a quarter acre of marble on which to dine and some deuces in the back. The night we were there, the bar was almost empty, which means that spur-of-the-moment visits to Ray’s, even if the reservation book is full, are never out of the question.

Boiled peanuts?

Article in the Wahington Post. Here in DC we have a long tradition of dumpster diving and alley scavanging; my son furnished our entire attic with "found" furniture. But finding dinner in a dumpster to protest consumerism and the Bush Administration? Isn't eating free-range chicken enough anymore?

A farmer I know tells me that there are buyers on the way back to Pennsylvania (where he and many of the farmers in our local markets grow) who will take bulk unsold produce off their hands. This gives farmers a good incentive to keep prices (relatively speaking) high -- even at the end of the day, with much unsold produce -- because they can sell as much as possible at the higher price and still unload the leftovers for whatever price they can negotiate (ie, haggle) out of the wholesalers.

With all due regard for the trials and tribulations of the small farmer found at the marketplace, I hardly think it's disrespectful or demeaning to haggle a bit if one thinks it's worthwhile. They are, after all, real businesspeople, not fragile porceline saints, and regardless of the dawn-to-dusk dedication to their art blah blah blah, they're walking down a path they chose. I have bills to pay, as well, and if I can save some money on my food bill to devote to, say, my childrens' tuition (or my wine bill), why not negotiate? Besides, who's to say that the farmer wouldn't rather sell me 15 pounds of tomatoes (I expect that they have little incentive to negotiate my usual minor purchases, but I will occasionally ask for a discount if I'm buying a larger quantity) at $2.00/lb than not sell me any tomatoes at $3.00/lb? Besides, we all know that country boys are better at city kids at this type of horse-trading, anyway. They can handle themselves.

Are you going to have a chance to picnic or camp after Portland? Best meal we had in Oregon last year was at Clarklewis. Second best was when cooking up the stuff we bought from the Portland market while camping -- it's an amazing place. Get there early, if you can, it gets mobbed. Highlights that I recall: oysters (pack a shucker) and wild mushrooms at $10/lb. Berries galore.

Though French Fries are back on the menu at the House cafeterias.

The bad news is that Capitol Hill something of a fine dining wasteland. The good news is that, because the workforce on the Hill is overwhelmingly young and government -alaried, there is a virtually endless supply of burgers and ethnic at a quality somewhere between shopping mall food court (and if you want one of those, Union Station is steps away. I like Wingmasters) and a restaurant you'd really go out of your way to go to, at a price you can afford on, say, a mid-level Congressional staffers salary. Lots of happy hours, too. Slightly more expensive and bringing a little panache to the Hill: Belga Cafe, on 8th st. near the Marine Barracks; Sonoma Grill on Pennsylvania Avenbue on the House side (not far from you, I believ) and Montmartre, right next to Eastern Market. Speaking of Eastern Market, the produce there is really only worth hunting down on weekends; during the week you're paying premium prices for standard produce at the regular stalls, whereas the farmers come out on weekends. I seem to recall a good and inexpensive Salvadoran/Mex carryout across the street, for cheap eats. These cheese guy is pretty good, I like Union Butcher a lot, and you can get good fowl of many varieties. Avoid the fishmonger. There's a pretty good wine shop, Schneiders, not far from the Court, at third and Mass. I confess I never thought of heading to Bethesda for good/cheap eats -- a long metro ride for another neighborhood that's considered an underachiever. Better to head out the orange line to Courthouse/Clarendon, I think. More ideas on an earlier thread here.

On the other hand, air conditioning, cars that go 100 miles an hour and organ transplants are now available even to the hoi polloi. 200 years ago only the richest of the rich had access to liver transplants and, in many countries, hotel rooms with running water, a/c and toilets that had been "sanitized for your protection" were reserved for royalty, while the masses made do with primitive roadhouse conditions, bandits and avaricious landlords with (on occasion) seductive daughters. This is why, in an earlier post, I called forgovernment intervention. Though politically left-of-center, I don't generally favor government interference in the marketplace. In cases where certain necessities are priced beyond the means of needy persons, however -- I'm thinking of prescription medications, fuel oil in the winter, grands crus and so on -- I do believe that the government does have a legitimate role to play. The difference being that, while such activities as underwriting heating oil for New England's poor or heart medication for the elderly are, let's face it, a drain on the government's coffers, my proposals, such as the liquid assets tax, actually enhance revenues. In fact, I've actually come up with a new proposal, the "horse shoe nail tax" which will allow afficianadoes to buy good wine in small quantities while discouraging speculation, flipping and leaving three cases in your cellar just to show off. Under this proposal, the first bottle of fine wine (anything over 85 by RP or 88 WS to begin, the National Bureau of Standards will ultimately takeon this role, however) would be taxed a nominal amount, let's say a dollar. The second bottle would be taxed at twice that rate, $2, the third at $4 the fourth at $8 and so on. The cost is minimal for small consumers like you and I, but anyone buying a case for their trophy cellar would pay $2,048 for their twelfth bottle and, if they had the temerity to try to lay down two cases of Cheval Blanc, the tax on the last bottle would be $8,388,608. I think this would discourage hoarding and enhance revenues and, as with my earlier proposals, be extremely attractive to the eurosocialist set. I am reliably informed that Segolene Royale is considering a similar proposal, and believe that broad adoption of this would have a beneficial effect on wine prices across the board.

My practice on old wine came as a young waiter in a swank restaurant...there was little more unnerving to me at the time than having a table of swells watch closely as I tried desparately not to rip up the cork on their $200 bottle of wine. It just takes practice and a soft touch. Unfortunately, it's hard to practice on old Bordeaux very often. I'm assuming that you open enough good wine to recognize a decent corkscrew. If not, talk to a reputable wine merchant and get one from him. You don't need the chrome-plated $80 dollar "rabbit ear" type, so don't let him sell you that. A good "waiter's" corkscrew (the kind that kind of resembles a pocketknife) will be fine. Look for a long "worm" with a wide coil. This type, with the hinge in the piece that rests on the lip of the bottle is the best. I've also seen these work well, too. As you probably know anything that looks like this is right out. Take an extra moment to make sure that you've centered the worm, and twist it in slowly. Old corks seem to shrink a bit and it is entirely possible to shove the cork into the bottle if you punch the worm in too quickly. This has happened to me. It's rather embarrassing, though not fatal if you're decanting anyway. Make sure you get the screw in as far as possible. Better a microscopic bit of cork in the wine because the point punched through the bottom of the cork, than trying to extract the last quarter of the cork after it separated from the top three-quarters because you didn't put it in far enough. In my experience, the first bit is the easiest part; it's when you think you're home free that the thing crumbles and breaks on you. Pull slow and, once it starts coming out, twist very gently in the direction that drives the screw deeper at the same time. I also find that gripping the cork with the bottom of your hand as you twist out the last few millimeters gives an extra measure of protection. Holding your breath always works for me. And if it breaks, get the cheese cloth out.

One of my earliest memories is watching the next door neighbors do a "frog fry" or whatever when I was living in Norman, Oklahoma. These were pretty seriously country folks, I guess, and they croaked the little croakers with knives, one person holding them by the legs while the other hacked away. A gruesome and sanguinary scene, not to mention the other substances a frog exudes while being dispatched. Everyone seemed to be having an icky good time.

If you decant properly you shouldn't have to strain it through cheese clothe which, I suspect, will not remove the finest sediment, anyway. Thay being said, if you haven't done it before, decanting can be a bit tricky (though very impressive to the witnesses). Perhaps most important, though, is to be very careful with your cork, which will be much more fragile than it was a quarter of a century ago.

Indeed, we have returned to 1750 -- in fact we are worse off now. Clicking here here and here we find that our oenophilic letter carrier must now work almost two weeks to afford a single bottle of La Tâche -- and this, in an era of collective bargaining that our French facteur surely did not enjoy 250 years ago. This speaks directly to my point and I thank you for illustrating it so vividly: not long ago, even a humble mailman or busboy could venture occasionally into the land of giants without forsaking their summer vacation savings in the process. I recall once stumbling across two bottles of Tâche for the now-unimaginable cost of $80 each. A luxury purchase but, as they say, an affordable one. But, I'm glad you brought up 18th Century France, when aggrieved postmen tired of the "let-them-drink-Cakebread-I-hear-there-are-some-fine-Malbecs-coming-out-of-Argentina-these-days" attitude from the aristocracy unleashed the cry of "liberté, egalité, Puligney-Montrachet" and wrested the vinyards of Burgundy from their oppressors (though not, ironically in this context, DRC) and gave them to the peasants. That is the spirit, as Pontormo so accurately divined upthread, that I am attempting to capture, and I am currently working with other activists to launch a series of "Take Back the [Cote de] Nuits" rallies to get our message across.

Anyway: I'm a little unclear about why people spend energy on protesting high prices for cliché brand-name wines, rather than on finding good wines that are less expensive. ← So, you're suggesting that a Chateau Cheval Blanc or a Domaine Romanee-Conti is a cliche brand-name wine, of no interest to the serious wine drinker, rather than an extraordinary example of the winemaker's art? Suggestions to seek out "undiscovered" wines are a bit, shall we say, superfluous. Almost condescending. It's what one does with every visit to the wine shop. But we'd like to be able to afford a drop of the classics every now and then, as well.

Yes, service. Elegant, unobtrusive, comprehensive, charming and perfectly-timed, all at once. A bad course can be swept up and replaced or forgotton, bad service remains on the palate like spoilt wine throughout the meal. So, pour my wine, bone my fish, don't bring me my menu until you've brought me my martini, lull me into a nearly narcotic sense of warmth and well-being. I don't go out to eat, I go out to dine.

I say he should make whatever he wants, post a description and we on eGullet can translate or name the dish for him. Think how much better "Penne Rigato Bolognese" tastes than "pasta with meat sauce."

You have my sympathy. These stoves SUCK. You will hate them every day. The only advice I have is, once you start cooking dinner, never turn a burner off, ever, until you are done with the meal, or nothing will ever finish on time. Note, too, that if you put a large pot of water -- of anything, really -- on one of these burners it cools them for a significant period of time. If I was in a hurry, I used to run two burners so I could heep the heat high enough to boil or brown.

Have you priced good gruyere lately? Bag the onion soup for a nice, cool vichysoise. Leeks and potatoes and chicken stock are cheap. The leg o' lamb sounds like a good lamb compromise and would go great with the risotto. Salad. Cheese. Bread. Cheep. Filling. Good. Fresh Peaches chilled in wine for dessert, with some upscale cookies for crunch.

In very short, YES! and this is the reason, most if not all take their family meal, at around that time 4:30 or so is the transitiion period from lunch staff to dinner, also all the meetings, and of course food, tastings. So going into any restaurant around that time is generally not a great idea. Because the staff will be preoccupied with meetings, or tastings, or eating their lunches.... Try to make later reservation! ← Unless you're going to a cafe or an informal place that serves all afternoon, staff meals and meetings should be done by the time the first customer is admitted. From working in restaurants, my experience is that an early diner is far more likely to have service problems than food problems on an early dinner, as servers trying to be unobtrusive are more likely to put themselves out of sight and out of mind of the tables, whereas the cooks are right there on the line.

I just got home from France. And (in part because I had to grocery shop at the 7-11) I made up a huge, gooey, decidedly un-French breakfast consisting of a bacon and egg sadwich and good old Amurrican coffee. Corn on the cob for dinner. What do you eat when you get home?