Busboy

The back cover of "Cooking With Anne-Marie", by Anne-Marie Huste, says that she was "chef to Billy Rose and to Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis." Apparently, after serving Steak Diane and Tarte au Pommes to Jackie O, she taught cooking and ran a private dining establishment where my then-girlfriend-now-wife dined and picked up the cookbook at a closing dinner suring the 80s stock market boom (for me, now that I re-read the deication "to Chalres"). Learned to cook gravlax from her and still use her emincee de veau recipe now and again. Sh's OK by me.

My wife dug up thise site: RoadFood.Com. Haven't had a chance to road test it yet -- the restaurant we found on the site had changed hands very recently and we couldn't compare our review to thiers. Looks like a good site, though, and glancing through it certainly puts you miles ahead of driving blind.

Diners, why is this so difficult? I really don't understand it. I think that the vast majority of complaints around here would have been addressable if the diner had done this. But maybe I'm wrong.... ← I'll take that on. Most of the time, unless there's a particularly egregious problem, it's more annoying to complain than to deal with the hassles. So your waiter was snarky. Your soup was cold. The wine service was amateurish. The fish was maybe a little past its prime. Is complaining going to make it better, or just cause another little scene as you're deposed by the manager, the waiter glares at you and your guests try to hide under the table? Life is too short to move through the whole little court case of complaining. You're eating dinner again tomorrow -- let's just put this one behind us. The whole point of dining out is eating effortlessly. Once you have to work at it -- and, even if you complain, there's no guarantee that they'll acknowledge your compaint -- the thrill is gone. Better to settle up and move on. Oh, I complain. But usually I'll rather just not come back. Letting the waiter know how you feel about their service, in a fiscal fashion, can be satisying, too (don't worry, it's very rare that I go low on the tip). Oh, and I'll post about it sometimes. A friend and I wrote a letter once compaining about the service at an expensive French joint. No response.

Have a similar story about Little Rock -- even down to the fact that their yuppie magnet is called the "River Market." I didn't know exactly what barbecue place I was looking for, but I knew it wasn't going to be there, even though the folks at the Holiday Inn front desk kept trying to send where the other out-of-towners congregated. Finally found an old bellman who sent me to "bad" neighborhood -- meaning, of course, it was a black neighborhood -- and the barbecue was great and the people who worked there friendly in a way you almost never see outide the South. My experience, over many years, is that if the front desk at a mid-price hotel recommends it, it's a tourist trap. Or a chain.

In our house, a standard topping for a flank steak or onglet is a compound butter made with roasted garlic and anchovies. Just whack them up in the food processor and throw it over the grilled beef. A variation, if you've got beef stock on hand, is to mash the garlic and the anchovies together and throw them in with stock, red wine and capers and cook it all down into a gooey mess -- doing the montee thing at the end. Spectacular. The salted are superior to the canned, but whatever they sell at the local bodega will work.

Absence of locals. Or presence of only those locals who seem to be entertaining out-of-town relatives. It doesn't matter how many miles you yourself are from home, you can always tell the tourists from the locals and how many of each are in the joint. You'll need a polite excuse to make the quick exit ("some friends said they might be here but I don't see them"), but make it. PS: Alwas remember that just becuase the joint is full of locals, it doesn't mean the place doesn't suck (as I was reminded, again, today, at a Southern Maryland seafood shack).

This reminds me of my first sunday in Athens, a couple ytears back. My friends were too hungover to leave their apartment and instead of staying in my hotel room and watching Greek TV I went wandering around the city. Every cafe, every ouzeria, every esteatorio was full, packed mostly with what seemed to be extended families. And I thought "It's Sunday, isn't there a game on? Don't they have the Euro-PGA tour here? What are these people doing talking to the families when they should be watching TV all day?" That's when I really started liking Greece.

Big difference between St. Trop tourist crowds and crowds in the backcountry that Mayle publized. If you stay out of the obvious tourist spots -- like his former home town of Menerbes, St. Remy and some of the more heavily publicized hillside villages --Vaucluse is far from overrun. And in September, even the tourist spots are likely to be pretty low key. Province is a big place. Besides, hasn't everybody left Provence for Tuscany? Someone else can maybe confirm, but I've heard that if you turn left at Nice, (towards Italy) it's much calmer than the Nice-Cannes-St.Tropez stretch. Nice in September is glorious, btw.

Spent a good part of last Saturday blazing through the tobacco fields and brackish backwaters of Southern Maryland and notched two more 'cue shacks into the culinary bedpost. A couple of weeks ago I would have been ecstatic to stumble across Randy's ribs (website here). In the heart of downtown Hughsville, MD. Good slow cooking, smokey taste a rich sweet sauce with a palpable bite. But, in the end, they were just too sweet for me. Don't get me wrong -- we're not talking an abomination like H.I. Ribsters or whatever here, and generally speaking I'd cross state state lines in the face of outstanding warrants and angry ex-wives for this stuff. The chopped beef sammy, though over-poured with that same sweet sauce, was served on the only decent roll I've ever found in any barbecue joint. And the service was friendly as all hell. Always service with a smile. But, just 5 minutes down the road, I'd stumbled up against Sonny's Barbecue Pit (29144 Thompson Corner Rd. Charlotte Hall-- State Road 236 just SE of Route 5 -- 301-290-0035) and the second the engine began sucking the woodsmoke into the manifold, the car itself (which is learning quickly) did a U-turn before I could take the left up to Randy's. Next thing I knew, I was deep in conversation with Sonny's son, Raymond. I think we know who's in charge, here. About the only thing Raympnd doesn't seem to be able to do around a barbecue pit is to get his little sister, who was manning the window and who is strikingly beautiful, to pose for me. While she hid in the car, Raymond and I talked cue. He's a slow smoker and a sauce-on-the-side man. The ribs were meaty and the meat almost fell off. I hit it up with two sauces, to see what happened then. The mild was one of those understated sauces that turn your attention back to the meat, which desrved it. As befitting a maestro who talks of moving beyond ribs to soul foods of other nations and regions -- lasagne, chili and the like -- certain delicious liberties were taken with the hot sauce, which almost reminded me of something Southeast Asian -- but still had to share the stage with what was falling off them bones. The chopped pork sandwich was a disappointment compared to the ribs, heavily sauced and good but not great. No matter. The ribs stand up all on their own.

I believe the Grill at Galileo is open today. Bring exact change!

True, so I will substitute "not-for-profit healthcare" for the term "universal healthcare." That alone, regardless of who is paying for it, reduces the cost significantly. ← Still not sure I can agree. The French healthcare system includes both public, private for-profit and private not-for-profit care providers. But I don't suppose it's important to the argument. What you're saying is that healthcare costs in France are lower than in the US, and what I'm saying is that it's irrelevant. Yes, healthcare costs per employee are lower in France. But where's the evidence that overall costs per employee are lower in France? Having been involved in some international business deals, I can tell you that in my (limited) experience the per-employee costs in France are higher than here. Or even if it's a little bit less or more, France is still certainly an expensive country in which to do business and maintain employees regardless of the healthcare portion of the equation. But all of that is beside the point. The appropriate basis for comparison is other US businesses. And it is beyond question that plenty of US businesses do just fine even though they have real employees and all the related healthcare costs. Restaurants don't need a special exemption. They just need to get their acts together and move into the 21st Century alongside real businesses. ← I think the health care hurdle lies in the fact that in the U.S. adding a health care benefit for a restaurant employing 20 people might easily run to $100-120K, a spectacular jump in overhead which most restaurants -- traditionally a low margin business -- couldn't afford (even if Keller can). If the health care is paid out of general tax revenues through "national health", then higher-income individuals and more profitable companies would pick up the tab for the waitress at the corner diner or the bartender at the club or the guy who delivers your Thai food. It would be, in effect, a subsidy, (another argument altogether) and would allow marginally profitable (or unprofitable start-up) restaurants to employ workers with health care but without going out of business. Having done a little work on "Hillarycare" in the early nineties, I can assure you that chain restaurants and those on the lower end of the scale will be dragged into the 21st century (in this regard, anyway) only kicking and screaming -- and they have a point. Health care became a standard benefit in the U.S. through unionization, white collar employment and civil service -- areas where the cost could easily passed along -- none of these is really going toaffect the restaurant industry.

Steve -- Michael Lynn's studies look at a population of diners, each eating one meal, and correlate the "quality" of the experience (and elusive target, that) with the tip and finds the correlation between the two, weak. How might that change if you examined a population of diners over many meals, and correletad the change in their perception of "quality" (still a tough thing to quantify, but less in this kind of study, if we assume people to be individually consistent) with the change in the tip. Even if there is little correlation latitudinally between a subjective judgement of quality and a subjective judgement of what an appropriate tip is, mightn't there be some longitudinal (clearly, I'm making up terms here) consistency, with tips moving up or down relative to the diner's norm, as service improves or declines? Keeping in mind that even a minor improvement -- from a 15% average to an 18% average, say, equals a significant increase in the server's take-home wage? Or is tipping such an inelastic act that most peoples' tips vary insignificanly even as the quality of service changes? Congrats on the piece!

Next week the four of us fly into Portland to explore colleges for the eldest of the younger generation and maybe pull a steelhead out of the North Umpqua River. We were a bit surprised when Dylan decided to break mom's heart and look at schools so far from home, but it's great to be getting back to God's Country -- where I had my only farming experience (moving irrigation pipe one summer near Albany, Oregon) and my best politcal experience, on a Washington Senate race. At this point the itinerary runs something like: Portland=> Eugene and/or Corvallis=> N. Umpqua Valley (near Steamboat Creek)=> Portland=> Miscellaneous Washington=> Seattle. We might try to get into the Olympics if the weather is good. Money is tight, though we'll probably do a blowout or two, and we'll be doing a lot of camping. I'll be cruising through existing threads (including Daddy-A's recent post, sorry about stealing your title ), but wondered if there were any last- minute updates or suggestions, back-country festivals, obscure farmers markets, good food in the backcountry, under-explored rustic inns, wineries, etc. Since we're travelling almost the whol length of the two states, we're wide open, though more than 40 miles from I-5 is pushing it. We could also use suggestions for cheap hotels in Eugene, Portland and Seattle and the name of someone who helps people from Back East catch fish in the greater Roseburg area. And, we'd be happy to grab a beer. Thanks in advance.

How would you be saving money? Presumably the service charge will be on the wine too. Most people who buy bottles in the hundreds of dollars do not normally tip 20% on the entire cost of the wine ← I can't speak for Gordon, but when I get a bellyful of wine, and I've having a good time, I tend to get generous in my tipping, pushing well past the 20% line on occasion.

Isn't it past lunchtime? I've only been to Heritage once and I liked it quite a bit. My go-to Thai restaurant is Sala Thai, on P just past Johnny's. I like the Nam Sod and crispy hot duck. My main fish joint is Pesce, which is more or less right next door to Sala Thai, and I've never had a bad dish there. I second Firely. Up on my side of the circle there is, of course, the legendary Bistro du Coin, where chefs play on their days off and the waiters may or may not acknowledge your existence. (Actually, I've never had a problem at lunch and never really had much a a problem at dinner, despite the place's reputation) Aim for the onglet or the Lotte (Monkfish) a l'Americane. There's Sette. If you get the pizza, ask for it well done. If you're with a friend, get the meat and cheese plate. And, if you have a sweet toothe, their Tiramusou (sp?) is a much better than most you'll find. I think Sette is pretty consistent across the board. And, if you're drinking lunch, why not hang with the power brokers at the bar at the Palm?

Please mentally insert a smile next to "communict conspiracy." When I was working at the tuxedoed French place, if somebody slipped a capain an extra tip, tradition dictated that he was allowed to keep it separate from the pool (assuming there was a proper tip on the check). In terms of incentives, I think pooling had a positive incentive. Since every table affected your tip, you you wanted to make sure every table got great service. And, never underestimate the power of peer pressure. People know how much their fellow waiters are earning for them. More studies on tipping than you ever thought existed (pointing towards Sam's position, as far as I can tell) here. One thing about the methodology makes me nervous about the findings, though. They appear to question diners immediately after a meal regarding their Satisfaction with the experience, and compare it to the tip, finding that there is little correlation. I think a study in which they tracked individual diners' performances over a series of meals, and compared satisfaction and tipping, would be more revealing. From a brief look it appears that the main study shoes that some people are just good tippers or bad tippers, and the tip is a unrelated to the experience -- the server gets 12% or 18% or 25% based on the personality of the person leaving the tip, not the level of performance. Fair enough. What I want to know is if the person who tips 12% despite a satisfactory dining performance actually have a range. Do they tip 10% when they're really pissed off and 15% when they're ecstatic? In other words, even though a good server's tips is, on any given check, relatively unrelated to service, does the good server, on average, get a couple more percentage points per check by moving Mr. 12% to 14% and Ms 22% to 25%? (In which case both Sam and Rich may be right). By the way, what does matter? Drawing a smiley face on the check, touching shoulders, crouching and other cheap psychological ploys.

Keep in mind ,when arguing the performance/tip relationship that "good" waiters have a couple of different ways to earn more money. I think they do make more money per table, but that the percentage per check difference would not be that high. But, good waiters have higher checks, because they sell more and because people stay longer. Good waiters get better shifts. Good waiters work at better restaurants. And, sometimes, at a swell place like Per Se (I'd bet) a big spender spender drops a twenty or a fifty on his captain because he suspects the tips are pooled, and wants to take care of "my guy."

I think Steve has this right. One point that I haven't seen him make, (and I may have missed it) is that at a high-end restaurant, every table really is a team effort. When I've worked in high-end restaurants, each table does indeed have a captain or headwaiter or main waiter person who typically discussed the menus and takes the orders. But from the moment the order goes in, every server is "your" server. Over many courses, it wouldn't be unusual for every server in the joint to drop by a table at one time or another, to serve or to clear or to pour wine or to get a drink order because they noticed you looking around expectantly. This isn't TGI Friday's, where you run your own section (though I'll bet they expect teamwork, as well, but at a lower level), every person has to have every other person's back, from the busboys to the Maitre d', or it doesn't work. And, for those who think that pooling is some kind of communist conspiracy to protect the less competent, I found myself unemployed when one restaurant decided that I wasn't pulling my weight (because I am a disorganized spaz, not because I was lazy, but the effect on service was more or less the same.) AT another place, there was an extensive break-in period before a waiter was awarded a full share in the night's tips.

Finally found the cable for my camera and thought I'd get my two cents in. First, it was a great time, and good to see old friends and new party animal Haggis man, who brought a pot of some of the most excellent greens I have ever eaten, and almost made me forget about the birds. The pre-dinner spread. I, too, was surprised how similar the chickens tasted -- though you could tell one from the other, they shared the great roasty taste a properly cooked chicken gets.. It should be noted that Corinne, aka Babka, who wasn't even involved in the trash-talking genesis of this contest, brought the bird with the best mahagony browning. Mrs. B's well-trusted bird. As you can see, the chickens were backed by a tasty array of sides, in addition to the greens, Chef Shogun brought some fresh tomatoes, Squids weighed in with som excellent corn, Rosebud gave us all a lesson in what to do during Zuccini season with some great fried gourd; and JPW brought Peanut (who was a delight). Let the chowdown begin! Heather brought salad and beaucoup wine; while Simdelish took care of the mojitos and the best part of the dessert. L-R Shogun's foot, Craig (aka Mr. Rosebud), Lee (aka Ms. JPW), Simdelish (aka Lee) Haggis man and HGShorter. Sim deserves special kudos for her Chocolate thingy, not just because I got to keep the leftovers. They were spectaculary good and went well with the 'scream. Despite buying ingredients from vastly different establishments... Fresh Country Goodness. Serious Urban Funk. ...they tasted pretty much the same. Cost of farmers market milk, eggs, cream and one stupid vanilla bean from Whole Paycheck: about $14. Cost from the Supersaver: About $7. It was a great time and thanks to everyone who came together to, if not settle any arguments, at least allow us to hold onto our irrational prejudices from from a more informed perspective. (I still like Stephanie's bext )

Strong words! As I said earlier there was/is no Management presence in the place @ lunch. The trio of food preparers/servers-all young white females just out of high school-were being slowly submerged under more and more customers and I wasn't capable of communicating that my meal was slowly disintegrating without growling.(I growl quite well too-much too well sometimes ) Since I've been going to the place for years I also know that the check was just torn up and the food tossed. It's not a high class joint where every penny is watched and garbage cans are searched for evidence of staff malfeasance. ← Strong words indeed. And bordering on inappropriate. Let's try to keep this discussion on keel, and civilized, at least among ourselves. It's okay to disagree with each other, but there are better ways to make a criticism. Personally, while I've never walked on a check, I HAVE been in a situation where I felt I needed to send a deliberate message. I once had a situation where I paid the check, but left a single shiny penny--prominently and obviously displayed--as the tip. I felt it made far more of a statement than no tip at all. I'm sure this qualifies me as a weasel in some eyes, but it felt good at the time, and I felt made clear the fact that while I felt obliged to pay my debt, that they'd also lost a customer (and more actually, since I warned many people away from the place). ← I will stipulate that Sam is probably a great guy and also has a very cool avatar -- and that I have made some weasel-ass moves in my life, as well.

I think there's way too much micro-calibrating on this thread. Walking on a check is a weasel-ass move, period. Talk to a manager, yell at your waitress, or annouce your anger to the room at large -- hey, we all get pissed off sometimes. But don't jump a check.

Just picked up my pullets and cream for dessert. Still room if the beach house fell through, or you had the Big Breakup Frday night and you need to comfort yourself with fine food.

Though I am pretty much a city kid and a Yankee now, my mother grew up in Alabama and I spent a week or two every summer in Huntsville growing up. Grandpa and my dad used to take me out to Aunt Lorraine's (pronounced LO-RAIN) farm to shoot. On day Aunt Lorraine tried to get me to eat some pickle okra and I kept trying to avoid it and she kept trying to fore that Mason jar of gunk on me until finally grandpa said "the boy don't want none of your dang okree!" She gave up and I always became even more affectionate towards grandpa for saving me. The upshot, of course, is that may years later I finally tried okra (which will always be pronounced "okree" in my mind)...and I still thought it was some nasty-ass stuff. Yuck. Oh well, to each his own. I may still come around. As an aside: you'd never know it from any Greek restaurant you've ever been to, but Greeks love okra, and if you ever find yourself in a market at Athens you may be able to pick up everything youneed for a decent jambalaya.

I do a pasta sauce where I chop garlic and onions and sautee in olive oil, and then throw chpped tomatoes in literally just long enough to get them above room temperature. Not quite raw, but not cooked enough to lose the texture or change the flavor. Throw in some chopped basil, cheese if you're in the mood, maybe some red wine vinegar and pour over your favoprite shape of pasta.

WABECK THINKS PINK Just when it's too damn hot to watch Derek assemble all those complicated concoctions, Firefly is again pouring bottles of the same stuff you'd be drinking if you were relaxing beneath the plane trees in a small Provençal cafe: pink wine. Apparently they drink rosé in Spain, Australia and Santa Cruz, as well, based on the wine list somebody shot me. And Chef is pounding out a worldbeat appetizer menu to go with the rosés, too: a little spaetzle here, a little pupusa there, maybe some polentina if you're in the mood. My father was culinarily damaged as a young boy -- having been raised Irish Catholic he spent his formative years eating spectaculary unsavory fish ever Friday. It wasn't until much later in life -- after the 1982 invention of seared tuna, I believe -- that he learned that fish was not something to flee. Many of us suffered similar trauma as a result of drinking cheap "blush" wines and foul "white Zinfandels" in our youth. Now is the time overcome our fears and spend August as it should be spent: drinking pink.