-
Posts
3,038 -
Joined
-
Last visited
Everything posted by cdh
-
Scrapple is more of an at-home food than an order-at-diners food, as far as I'm concerned. The spicing mixture of the scrapple is the key to its flavor, and you can never tell whether a diner is using the good stuff, or the awful cardboardy flavored stuff. My favorite scrapple makers are Habbersetts' and Alderfer's. They've got the spicing right. There is also a divide in the scrapple eating population between those who like it wafer thin and fried until crunch throughout, and those (like myself) who like a 1/4 inch cut that is fried until golden and crispy on the outside and is still mushy on the inside. Yum!
-
Actually, it is Lil' Frankie's, as I learned when the directory assistance operator could find nothing listed for Little Frankie's, which left me unable to call them when I'd wanted to. However, upon arrival, I made note of the name on the door... Lil' is the word you want to tell the operator if you're looking for their number.
-
While spending a few months in London, I went out of my way to fly off to Piedmont to experience the truffle festival in Alba... don't know if I'd have done that while living in the US, but the cost and convenience of intra-european hops made the Alba jaunt irresistable. In choosing venues for my last serious vacation, Thai and Malaysian gastronomy certainly influenced my choices (but the seriously cheap airfare from Malaysia Air was a greater factor in the decison... that and the scuba diving)... In a more local sense, I made a 1.5 hour drive up into otherwise uninteresting Northeastern Pennsylvania on the rumor that a texan had set up a BBQ joint up there that was out of this world. (It was, but sadly didn't survive as a business.) While passing through Northern California, I happened to be there when the Gilroy Garlic Festival was going on, and had to see that... though I'd not known it was going on during the time of my visit, so it wasn't planned... I don't know that I would go more than a daytrip out of my way for a one-food-only destination... particularly one with little else to recommmend it... But find me a hidden shangri-la of epicurian delights, and I'm there for a good while... hold on, New York already is that... and not so hidden... no wonder most of my weekends are spent there.
-
Trillium, The rumormongers who indicate that the Torani clone is a good replacement are to be found over at http://groups.msn.com/DrinkBoy ... they're a reasonably astute bunch, so if you're on the left coast, I'd see about getting my hands on some of the stuff and taste-testing it against the real thing. The DrinkBoys seem to like it pretty well. I wish they distributed it on the East Coast. As to availability from importers, who was the last importer of record? Did somebody after Remy Amerique pick it up? Did they do business on the east coast? I'd hate to have missed the opportunity to get some due to incomplete research.
-
Indeed I am, and naive in the hopeful belief that objective evidence of subjective experiences could sway the immobile Plotnicki.
-
As a brief postscript, a bit of googling has yeilded confirmation: 1) there is an olfactory equivalent to color blindness: anosmia http://scifun.chem.wisc.edu/CHEMWEEK/Odors...s/chemorec.html 2) there is a genetic component to anosmia http://personal.ecu.edu/wuenschk/Genetics.htm So, I'm somewhat vindicated and not nearly the crackpot I might have been if my suspicion had turned out to be without any basis. That is to say that discrete populations may well have a genetic predisposition not to smell certain odors. I think that is a pretty wide open door for gastronomic relativism to walk right through. Sorry, Steve.
-
Here, we're in total agreement. There is no way to become totally proficient in all cuisines, and admitting a lack of knowledge is a better path than hastily acquiring a veneer of knowledge, and then proceeding to make pronouncements from a learned point of view.
-
1) Since "bad" Dutch cuisine persists to this day, and people seem content with that state of affairs in the Netherlands, that is a sign that the Dutch don't, in fact, appreciate non-Dutch food more than they do Dutch food. 2) "Appreciate" is a problematic word when we're talking about things olfactory. Since we have no absolute measuring stick like we do with vision. We have no way to tell what an individual's subjective experience of an olfactory stimulus is. We don't have (AFAIK) an analogous test for smell that we have for color blindness... Who's to say that a degustation at (name fancy french restaurant) does, in fact, makes somebody with a dutch nose as happy as it does Plotnicki? No way to tell. 3) Inability to "appreciate" does not translate into inability to eat.
-
Since when was I calling this difference either an "inferiority" or a "flaw"????! Just because they may not be able to perceive olfactory input the way you do says nothing about their intrinsic character or worth. While you may be disgusted by the state of dutch frying oil, maybe there is some ineffable quality to raw herring that you could never experience without the dutch sensory equipment. It seems that you have a burning desire to believe that there only one "best" cuisine, and that that cuisine is french haute cuisine. What I'm saying is that maybe other people are built in such a way that similar gratification to that which you receive from french haute cuisine is available to them from other sources. This difference only becomes a "flaw" or an "inferiority" if there is an absolute best cuisine, and the inability to properly appreciate it is some kind of social stigma. To you, maybe it is a moral failing to fail to genuflect before the altar of Ducasse and Robuchon. I'm not that judgmental.
-
Speaking as somebody with a predominantly Dutch ancestry, I've noticed in a subset of my relatives that there is a problem with detecting certain odors that others can detect easily. The answer to Plotnicki's aspersions cast against the Dutch and their seeming happiness with rancid oil may be a physical difference in the ability to perceive what he considers offensive. We know that some people are color-blind, being unable to perceive all the colors that others can. And we know next-to-nothing about the intricacies of the olfactory system... which leads me to wonder: is there a heritable trait that is the olfactory equivalent of color blindness, a physical difference that masks the perception of certain rancid odors? If the answer to that question were yes, then we know precisely why the Dutch tastes differ from those of the French and the Belgians-- those groups historically maintain largely separate gene-pools... Anybody know any science on olfactory cognition and the mechanics thereof? I'm interested now... And if I'm right, then I and my taste buds are also glad that the ancestors chose to intermarry w/ the French rather than the English.
-
Toby's last point strikes me as the rub of the matter. FG's query about how one should approach unfamiliar cuisines as a food critic seems to require further analysis about the audience receiving the criticism. The approach to the story would appear to depend entirely on who the expected audience will be. FG appears to be striving for a detached academic objectivity, which I would argue to be too lofty a goal unless the audience is a culinary anthropology seminar. The essential questions I would ask myself as a journalist in FG's position are: 1) Who's going to read this? -- are you writing for gastronomes and gourmets, denizens of the neighborhood in which the restaurants are situated, casual diners, or culinary adventurers? How much does your audience already know about the subject cuisine? 2) What does the audience want to get out of it? While a dissertation on the finer points of just how acetic a good injera should be (if such a thing exists ) might be appropriate in a town with a dozen competing Ethiopian restaurants, the simple facts that injera is a spongy flat (very) sourdough bread might be all that is necessary to forewarn an audience unfamiliar with Ethiopian cuisine what to expect were they to adventure out to try it. 3) Does the audience expect a detailed parsing of the presentation, and technical critique of the execution of each dish, and does it expect that criticism to come from somebody authoritative? 4) If they're looking for somebody autoritative, is the expectation that the authority is knowledgable about aspects of authenticity of the subject cuisine? Or are they looking for somebody whose authority stems from knowing what is considered "good" by the intended audience itself? (Watching the tasting panels on Iron Chef when a French chef goes up against the Japanese Iron Chef and noting the different reactions and judging criteria used by the Euro and the Japanese panelists is instructive on this point.) 5) Are you writing to educate, or to provide a sophisticated criticism? I'm sure that there are more, but those questions struck me as the first attack on the problem that FG presented. edit:typo
-
JAZ, is it the real Amer Picon you're inundated with there on the Left Coast, or is it the Torani clone? If it is the real stuff, then somebody is obviously shipping it into this country again... In the 90s, my research indicated, Picon got dropped by its importer. If it is back out there, then a friendly chat with a liquor store owner might be all it takes for Wilfred to get it in NYC... It is most definitely not on the inventory of the Pennsylvania liquor monopoly.
-
What you're looking for is Luxardo maraschino... much more complex than Stock, though no less sweet. I recall a friend telling me that Luxardo had changed their bottles from the old-school wicker wrapped ones to something more modern and less distinctive... If I rightly recall, he told me he had observed the new bottles at a liquor store somewhere in his 'hood, around the intersection of W 4th st and W 12ths st in the ever-confusing warren of the West Village. I'm recalling the store being called something castle-y sounding, but wouldn't swear to it. I'd pull a phone book, look up liquor stores, and call all the ones from 14th st to Perry St, between 7th ave and Hudson. I'll bet you'll have luck. FWIW, I bought my first bottle luxardo from Mr. Wrights on 2nd Ave in the high 80's/low 90's.
-
I spent two years of the hunt living in New York checking every liquor store for dusty bottles... to no avail... called Remy Amerique who I'd found to be the last importer... stopped importing it the early 1990s... Called Young's Something-or-other in california who Harrington indicated to be a source of the stuff... to no avail... I did see reference to the rumor that the Torani syrup company in California makes one alcoholic product, a clone of Picon... but it gets no distribution... I've never felt like pressing my luck with mail ordering booze, given the jail time the guy in virginia got for buying wine over the net a few years ago... I'm not one for putting myself in the sites of a DA who wants to score points with MADD... So, a friend of mine who does a lot of transatlantic hopping thought to bring a bottle of the stuff along from Paris for my birthday a couple of years ago...
-
I'm in compete agreement that Paul Harrington is a great source for revived classic cocktails. He really understands the principles behind the drinks, and the few new creations he suggests are worthy successors to the classics. He set me off on many wonderful hunts for rare and forgotten ingredients... Even inspired me to create a cocktail of my own that has been a staple amongst my circle of friends for a half dozen years now... my only gripe with him is that he really didn't take into account the unavailablity of some of his ingredients, namely Amer Picon. The Picon Punch and Picon Limon seemed so wonderful from the write-ups, yet I had to wait 4 years until somebody thought to bring a bottle of the stuff back from France for me, after hearing that I had given up on my hunt for it in the USA.
-
Glad to hear the Gales HSB is still as good as I remember it was from back when I was living in Winchester... Sad to say I can't be of any help to you in your hunt in London. Do remember that Winchester is only an hour's train ride away from London, though, and you can definitely get it there. Maybe even closer, but I'm without the specific knowledge to say so. Edit: grammar clarification
-
Ahhh... the Distinguished Wakamba Social Club... Spent an interesting afternoon there once with friends who lived up a little bit up 8th Ave from there... Definitely a dive...
-
Well... there are the Champagnes of Thierry Triolet, which do to some extent taste like a cross between champagne and sherry (in a good way).
-
Hmmm.... the "American Hoagie" is another beast altogether... I thought the question was the difference b/t "Regular" and "Italian". The American sounds like a scary thing to be avoided. My take on hoagies is stilted by the fact that I'm up in Penna. Dutch country, so while there is a strongly entrenched meat curing and sausage making tradition, it is very different from the Italian tradition. Which means that, while Philly traditions like cheesesteaks and hoagies are common out here, the ingredients are skewed toward the locally made produce which is interesting and not frighteningly bland like Scoats' depiction of an American hoagie, but is also very very very not italian. This is a part of the world where garlic is not a common ingredient, and cured meats have a higher water content, and are generally pink. The beautiful reddish brown of a dryer capicola is never seen up here... it is the pink of deli ham and the local "cooked salami". Even up here in Penna Dutch country, a regular hoagie is an Italian, though with germanic charcuterie. Getting a baloney and american cheese on a hoagie roll would require asking for just that... (and you'd have to specify lebanon or american bologna, and which of the five varieties of the latter that are available.)
-
Here's another take on it... In the USA, "ethnic" is what food is before it is assimilated into the common experience of most Americans. Indiagirl's point about "ethnic" food being food that requires ingredients that you can't get through mass marketing distribution chains backs up this theory. The cultural and racial aspects are, I'd suggest, artifacts of the distribution networks for the required ingredients. "Ethnic" is a stage that food passes through in the marketplace, until it is either accepted and folded into the mainstream, or remains sidelined for lack of economic pressure to incoprorate it into the mass market. As Indiagirl said, a hallmark of "ethnic" food is that certain ingredients must be imported or otherwise recreated in this country. Who is going to know how to select/reproduce the desired ingredient? Somebody who is from the point of origin, with first-hand knowledge of what the ingredient is like in its original environment. The person with this first-hand knowledge is also likely to have a social network of people of similar familiarity with the foreign point of origin and its language and culture, some of whom are likely to be people who want cook with familiar ingredients in a foreign land, and others are the entrepreneurial budding "ethnic" restauranteurs. Thus is explained the cultural homogenaeity at the beginning of the introduction of food into America. A few examples to beat the dead horse that it is access to non-mainstream ingredients that is a hallmark of "ethnic" cuisine: French isn't "ethnic" because you can walk into a supermarket and pick up just about everything you need to cook a french meal, because those ingredients are in the mass market distribution chain (with notable annoying exceptions like unsmoked bacon.) Southern Italian might have once been "ethnic" when mainstream grocers didn't carry basil and olive oil, though northern Italian would never have ethnic since it's distinctive ingredients (except maybe certain cheeses) have been available in the mainstream larder. Food stops being ethnic when its ingredients reach a critical mass of distribution, and become integrated into the greater melange that American cuisine has become. There was a time, if i recall correctly, that brocolli was considered ethnic italian food. Not any more. Plenty more examples... grocery store pierogies... grocery store dolmas (though very infrequently the grape leaves from which they're made.) Foods transition through "ethnic" status...
-
In my experience, the terms regular and Italian are interchangable in most places. The few places that do differentiate between regular and Italian do so based on the provenance of the meats that go into the sandwich... i.e. cheaper domestic salami and ham in the regular, imported Italian meats in an Italian. I'd probably say "what the xxxxxxxxx is this" if something like, say, pepperoni turned up in a hoagie... I'm largely forgiving of different varieties of ham... I'm happy when real sopresatta gets subbed in for the cooked salami, but either is acceptable. American cheese (or anything not provalone) would certainly raise a "wft!?!?" reaction from me...