jogoode

Thank you all! My stock has been simmering for five hours. The smell of gas is gone, though every five minutes I think I smell it again and I imagine it filling my apartment! This quote best illuminates my basic question. Is gas only released into the apartment when the burner is in "flame out condition"? Why doesn't the burner, when flaming, release gas?

My girlfriend today expressed her worry about my leaving a simmering stock on the stove overnight. She said that our apartment smelled like gas already and asked how it could be safe to leave the stove on for so long. The only answer I could come up with was "If I can't leave the stove on, then how can I make my stock?" And then, "How do you think other people make stock?" But I soon realized that I couldn't explain why it's OK to leave the burner on for hours when there's a pot on it, when I know I'd freak out (as I think many would) if I ever accidentally left a burner on without a pot sitting on it. Am I being ridiculous here, or is the explanation not obvious?

Thank you for being with us, Richard. Forgive this question from a novice, but how many covers do you do a night? How big is your kitchen staff? And how big is your kitchen? (I assume big if you have room for a "chef's table" for diners.) I'd love to hear any other logistical details as well. Also, from where do your staff typically come -- straight from local culinary schools, far off culinary schools, other restaurants?

Thanks to you both. I have a mortar and pestle, so should I buy cumin seed and coriander seed instead of the ground seeds?

I've been meaning to start cooking Indian food, following some of the recipes posted on eG. But I keep telling myself that I need to wait until I can get some good spices. On Wednesday, I'm finally hitting the market. What spices will both provide a good basis for my pantry and allow me to cook a few Indian dishes without supplementing? Thanks!

Sweet. When we don't have a whole day to spend on an Offal Tour, we can just use a night for the Offal Dinner. ← I was, of course, thinking of you and Sam when saw this menu.

Might be obvious, but don't forget to drive through Napa and Sonoma.

Good call on the umeboshi and fish sauce. Also Thai chile, limes, mint. Ask me on another day and it'll be thyme, tarragon, olive oil, rosemary, and salt. And another day: cumin, clove, cardamom, mustard seed, star anise

Gael Greene liked it.

I got a press release today about Onera, a new ambitious Greek restaurant on the UWS. Its menu is broken into these sections: raw meze, like scallops with yogurt cucumber sauce, pickled fennel and anise leaves; appetizers, like chilled roasted octopus with sweet nuombuolo salami, granny smith apples, mint leaves and an anchovy vinaigrette; pasta, like Varenika, potato stuffed crescent pasta, macerated yellow raisins and dates and crushed cauliflower sauce; as well as sections for meat and fish. Four-course menu includes meze, app, pasta and main for $45. And, bless them, they offer a five-course offal tasting menu for $45 with optional wine pairings for only $20. Each offal dish can be ordered separately, which is good news for those who want the crispy sweetbreads with foie gras dumplings and crushed chicken liver sauce, but not the seared calves brains with fried artichokes and truffle butter. I'll, however, take both -- along with the grilled kidneys with ragout of eggplant and pearl onions and a chickpea fritter. Onera 222 W. 79th Street 212 873 0200 PR Source, Bullfrog & Baum

Africa is relocating to a larger space across the street. But whenever I asked the owners when the place would be open, they've said "Next week." It's been a couple of months. Robert Sietsema, of the Voice, is the man for this type of thing. In Harlem, he likes La Marmite. I like the thiebou dienn at Mali-Ba, 218 W. 116th. I heard from a very credible source that the Wolof tend to live in Harlem and the Toucouleurs (Fulani-relatives) live in Brooklyn in Bed Stuy. I'm not sure if there's a difference in food, but I suppose this a question for another thread.

Oh, and lots of mango-on-a-stick vendors, who'll dress the treat, if you want, with lemon juice and salt.

I'm sure they take reservations. Now, if only they had phones... The good news is that if you hike up that way looking for an alcapurria ($1) and neither of the vendors are there, you are smack in the bustle of Spanish Harlem. Patsy's and Rincon Boricua are worthy detours off 116th, and on 116th closer to the Morningside Park there's a stretch of good Senegalese restaurants. But back to street vendors: 116th also has at least three women who sell tamales out of huge tubs.

I recently found some great alcapurrias on 116th Street, in Spanish Harlem. Every cuchifrito on 116th has alcapurrias, torpedoes of fried cassava dough stuffed with ground meat, languishing in its window under chicharrones. Almost unrecognizable, however, from these heavy, gummy alcapurrias are those made by the two women street vendors who on Saturdays and odd weekdays operate different tables near 116th and Madison. Each mans a small deep fryer, and takes the alcapurrias right from the oil, so they're light and crispy. Don't know how much longer they'll be out there, with the weather getting cold.

Great Blog, Anna N! You cook a lot like I do, but from the pictures I'd guess your cooking is more successful than mine . Very pretty meatballs.

I'm surprised that the enthusiasm for Nobu hasn't worn off by now.

Here's an interesting event going on at Cru: From Bullfrog and Baum's press release: I can't tell whether there are different options or if all this is included in one dessert. Maybe I'm just woozy from the presence of a Epoisses granite.

I'm very sorry for your loss, Carolyn. I lost my mother unexpectedly the summer before my senior year in college, in 2002. I live by KatieLoeb's expression: Everything you do is a tribute to her.

Thanks, herb. And, for the record, I don't mean to imply that anyone was trying to rush us. We had a very leisurely dinner. The service was excellent: skilled and efficent, with a hint of formality (the silverware changes, the waiters' choreographed serving of the food, placing the plates down at the same time).

Lately, whenever I pay a compliment to a restaurant dish, doc or slkinsey tell me that that dish is almost as good as the version Joe Bavuso makes. Joe's got great PR. I have a question for those of you who know something about the dynamics of the restaurant kitchen. Last night, we asked our waitress if we could order a few apps and while we ate them decide on our entrees. She pointed out that the main dishes at Hearth were fired with the apps and took about 25-30 minutes to prepare, so it would be better to order apps and mains at the same time. Is this normal? From what I've seen (and I haven't seen much) the mains are fired 15 minutes after the apps or as soon as the apps go out. Or was this the waitress's way of gently telling us that the kitchen would prefer that we order of apps and mains at the same time?

I had a great meal at clarklewis this July, during my first time in Portland. (Full disclosure: My good friend is the manager.) I wish I remembered the details, but I can say Clarklewis was unconscionably cheap. Perhaps this doesn't mean as much coming from someone living and eating in NY, but I think everyone would agree that the restaurant offers a great value. Also, congratulations to clarklewis for its press in Food & Wine (scroll down, past the mention of our favorite Fat Guy) and in Gourmet's restaurant guide.

For a while I had been trying to find a reason to go to Hearth. This weekend a few friends came from out of town, so I reserved a table and had a great meal, I’m not big on cocktails, but two of my friends had cocktails: the Baum and the Huckleberry Ginn. Both were very good. The Baum was my first taste of Strega. Mixed with club soda, orange and lemon, it was very refreshing. No time for a full review -- everything was wonderful. So the highlights: Snapper crudo with lemon, red pepper and rosemary. The fish was the perfect temperature; I hate when the fish in crudo is too cold. Five slices of snapper were topped with roasted red pepper and a few needles of rosemary, and slicked with lemon oil. I think there might have been chopped snapper under each slice. With our main dishes, we ordered a side of gnocchi and the kitchen sent out four. I had made it a point to order the gnocchi because of what I’d read about them on this thread, and they were unlike any I’ve had. One restaurant week I had gnocchi at Café Boulud that were dense but unbelievably light, if that makes sense. These became my benchmark. At Hearth, however, they are different – they taste like they contain no flour, like dumplings of potato puree. Canora puts them on the plate with butter, parmigiano, salt and black pepper. We also had a side of roasted, crisp-edged hen-of-the-woods. Dry-aged sirloin, braised short rib, mustard green, turnips and beets. Sticking my fork into the short rib was one of those dining moments when you can’t hold back a smile. The meat was braised to a point of melting that I’ve never experienced. This made the meat very rich, so I was grateful to have the sweet beets, the bitter turnips and the beads of sharp whole grain mustard. The sirloin was served rare and was very flavorful. Braised barrumundi with artichokes, black olives, romanesco and clams. The fish was moist from braising and was wading in a tasty, briny broth. This was my first experience with romanesco, a green, caulifower-like vegetable, and one of the best experiences I’ve had with tiny artichokes, which are often flavorless. Just a simple combination of distinct flavors that worked well together. We drank Aglianico del Vulture (100% Aglianico), Il Viola, Tenuta Le Querce, 2001 Apple cider donuts, apple compote, maple cream. What a great dessert! The donuts were warm, coated with just enough icing, and the tart compote was a fine foil. Here’s a great article on apple cider donuts, written by eGullet’s own alacarte, that gives a recipe for Hearth’s. My friend had three cheeses, including a beautiful triple cream from Cowgirl Creamery, paired with mistella. From what I understood of our waitress’s description, mistella is a mixture of fruit juice and “local” alcohol, like brandy, which implies it originated as an impromptu mixed drink. (But if that’s wrong, it’s the fault of my memory, not the fault of our excellent waitress. She was very knowledgeable about the menu and wine list, and made great suggestions all night. Anyone have more information on mistella?) It went well with the cheese; it was sweet without being syrupy, clean tasting, with good alcohol. My only regret is that I didn’t sit at the counter, where I would’ve had a view of the open kitchen. Edit: Strega link fixed. Thanks, Pan.

In curries, like panang, you often see chiles that look like bell peppers. But they are definitely not. David Thompson's amazing Thai Food suggests that they're prik chii faa, or long chiles. And they are only slightly spicy -- though occasionally you'll get a very hot one. No mention of bell peppers in his book.

Yeah. Shrimp paste (gapi) is rarely made by Thai restaurants, but is used in many curries. It takes 6 months to make, and I'd imagine it would be difficult to make large quantities of it given the space constraints of living in New York -- it's not the type of stuff you want to have fermenting on your bedroom windowsill. So restaurants buy it at Thai groceries. I suppose one way to estimate the quality of a Thai restaurant without sitting through a potentially awful meal is to ask whether its chef make his or her own shrimp paste and curry pastes (assuming the chef would admit that he didn't) Or you can, like Steven, follow up on a recommendation.

But the pad thai at Sripraphai isn't good. I think you have found a Thai place with potential if its red curry and panaeng aren't overly sweet, tasting mostly of coconut milk; and if it can put together a salad with a good balance of salty, sour, hot, sweet. But maybe I say this because salads and curries are what I'm most familiar with.