Elissa

nice one. the big brass bucket in which Fallot sometimes comes packaged is sexy too, outfitted with pens and scissors on a desk. and though i prefer maille's regular dijon, fallot's tarragon is slamming

plus the empty jars look great filled with cardamom, or black mustard, or coriander seeds....

This evening's dinner was a bottle of Burgans Albarino and some cataloupe. Would that there were some prosciutto on hand, maybe a drop of marscapone ... but in my experience imagination can get you a long way. A divine combine, the melon and wine, if not exactly in Rauschenberg's stricter senses. Seems to me however as if between a few Albarino, Picpoul de Pinet and good bubbles one ought to be able to brave summer in the city. Have you recommendations on these, or other counts for summer whites, pinks, bubbles or even light reds? xxx, lissome

wow: i can almost smell them! which (on a blue plate) had the floopy poufs?

in some lights spanish modernism seems about humor, to france's more intellectual take. yet catalan seems both and neither. what distinguishes the cuisines? wouldn't the gaudi church made from the inverted model of the mountain range, with rope and sandbags seem perfect for a banquet...or symposium? thanks!

Have you found Indian, African and Chinese gingers to differ?

which of ginger's 2000 varieties do you favor?

Andre Malraux, in his book The Voices of Silence, lends some interesting ideas to this discussion. He begins with a history of the museum: a sort of institution that nowhere exists without the influence of modern Europe's civilization. Even within that civilization - mine and presumably (?) yours - museums have been around a mere 200 years. "The reason why the art museum made its appearance in Asia so belatedly (and, even then, only under European influence and patronage) is that for an Asiatic, and especially the man of the Far East, artistic contemplation and the picture gallery are incompatible." Enjoyment of a painting in China involved ownership. Paintings were things one unfurled privately at home, in a state of grace, and their function was to enhance communication with the universe. Paintings were not objects made to be crammed eighty to a wall in the Louvre, then sweated and sneezed over by every tourist (and poet) under the sun. So it occurs to me that perhaps western aesthetics offer a skewed view of art, its function and more importantly its perception, and that this perverse take may be best illustrated by the conundrum of fine dining. Regarding not only presentation, but how food's would-be eaters accept and appreciate things made to be eaten, haute Japanese cuisine in particular has long been more nuanced than West's. The El Bulli experience would seem to address this, with as much playfulness as seriousness, not least by the rhythms with which plates arrive. But since my private cook and his three assistants have the day off, not only will I have to make due with what ever I can scramble up now, but I imagine that it will also fall to me to find whatever I'll need to sate me later. Think I can come up with something new? How about just palatable? Let us pray. Lettuce spray? Which reminds me: Does the El Bulli menu play with words and language? Are there linguistic puns in addition to the culinary ones?

Bravo. May I suggest, however, that what you seem to want to call style I rather read (or taste or see or hear or feel) as voice. While Miles Davis played many styles - from BeBop to Cool to fusion and more - his voice never changed. The bands he assembled and surrounded himself with changed, in style and in approach, but Miles was always Miles. Voice makes a raconteur's stories viable rather than rote, voice enriches vicarious or direct experience with credibility, character, vitality and verve. For me at any rate, voice is what addicts me to all my favorite artists, the best of whom - and Theloniuos Monk in particular - seem unencumbered and unmasked with 'style.'

robert, i like your duchamp reference for several reasons. 7) if we are indeed discussing an avant garde, then by definition we are talking about a collective: Weimar, DaDa, Constructivism, the Situationist International etc. were not individuals changing the course of things to come, but creative collaborators. so it would follow that of course adria is documenting his ideas and sharing his secrets and inviting chefs sans reservations 4) it's intersting that el bulli's prices are so low and that profitability seems to be of so little interest, as historically avant gardes have been understood as attempts to alter institutionalized commerce with art. AGs cannot be confined to means-end rationalities and profit-minded intentions; AG goals are to the contrary the exchange of ideas and experiences, shared ways of thinking and, in this case it would seem, new paths along which to associate ideas, emotions, reflections and flavors. 3) his dishes' verisimilitude seems to evade a style, foams aside, and as you (or was it Jonathon?) said, nothing was repeated from earlier visits and in fact there was only one foam this go 'round. adria is not making a style of food, just as avant garde movements never developed styles. however defamiliarization and surprise were two traditionally mined AG techniques that it seems adria is using too.

Suzanne: "You make that dress look so beautiful" was one of Duke's standard lines...

anil maybe you should become a food fashion forecaster? this from this morning's times mag. yum

Here's a great one if you're a monkey god: In Bali, I befriended an architect who took me to a temple on which he was at work and explained that to make the Hanuman and other stone sculptures outside the temple (or was it a hotel?) look old and authentic, he'd slathered them with yogurt to help them gather moss. Doubt that I'll soon forget a sign I saw in a town close to Ubud either: "Antiques: Made to Order"

Duke Ellington. In his 1944 NYer article the Hot Bach Richard Boyer reports: "After work, Ellington and Strayhorn are likely to go to some Negro all-night spot...Duke, who is always worrying about keeping his weight hown, may announce that he intends to have nothing but Shredded Wheat and black tea. When his order arrives, he looks at it glumly, then bows his head and says grace. After he has finished his snack, his expression of virtuous determination slowly dissolves into wistfulness as he watches Strayhorn eat a steak. Duke's resolution about not overeating frequently collapses at this point. When it does, he orders a steak, and after finishing it he engages in another moral struggle for about five minutes. Then he really begins to eat. He has another steak smothered in onions, a double portion of fried potatoes, a salad, a bowl of sliced tomatoes, a giant lobster and melted butter, coffee and an Ellington dessert - perhaps a combination of pie, cake, ice cream, custard, pastry, jello, fruit and cheese. His appetite really whetted, he may order ham and eggs, a half-dozen pancakes, waffles and syrup, and some hot biscuits. Then, determined to get back on his diet, he will finish, as he began, with Shredded Wheat and black tea." in The Duke Ellington reader, p. 224

recalling thai beef sate i eat my hat because of prior reticence Did you make them? only in my mind

recalling thai beef sate i eat my hat because of prior reticence

how best to balance the 4 flavors - hr, ginger, lime and sesame- plus fish, in the marinade? think they'd develop enough to be distinguished? maybee horseradish sake ceviche ?

Those sound fun. Especially the gardener's revenge option. Found some in the market the other day and have been imagining tuna with a ginger/horseradish/lime zest and cilanto fest. How would you do that? Maybe a marinade with sesame oil and sear?

he just told me after july 14

what do you do with them?

sounds great. i was thinking next weekend but could too otherwise. how far is the drive from nyc?

must you be eight? anyone free sat night?

Looking for Bed and Breakfasts actually, or shockingly cool lil hotels, en route between loveyerbrotown and harrisville

Any sweet B&B's between Philly and Harrisburg? And once in Harrisburg, what then?

There's s special place in heaven for selfless, regal eaters such as yourself. What a beautiful story; I'm all choked up.