Steve Plotnicki

I think that the entire concept of free market pricing isn't the issue here. Nobody is challenging the restaurant's right to charge whatever they want. Or the right of people to pay however much they think a meal is worth. But, I don't know what that has to do with analyzing whether a meal offers good value and whether it is worth it or not? And under no circumstances can I pronounce a markup of 3000% on a bottle of wine as anything other then a ripoff. And that is besides the fact that if I was in that situation and the sommelier told me it was the perfect choice (and he'd be lying if he did and just selling wine if you ask me) that I might decide to pay that amount. Even if it was good, even if it was the "perfect" wine, it would still be a ripoff. And to say that there are external reasons for the wines markup, like the amount of people it takes to manage the cave, or the size of the kitchen brigade, or the price of the tea in China, has no relevence to there being a reasonable markup. I can see the argument that you can't analyze the cost on an item by item basis because what is at issue is the overall experience. And I myself invoke that argument all of the time. The issue is where the lines are drawn. It's like the continental breakfasts at top hotels in London and Paris that are priced at the equivelent of $40. Saying that you are getting to eat a $40 breakfast in The Ritz is not responsive to the point that the meal actually cost them $2. Ultimately it comes down to how much will you pay for real estate? Pricing of food is arbitrary. If a restaurant or hotel prices things in order to make their markup that is one thing. But if a place like Auberge d'Ill places excessive prices on their Bordeaux in order to limit who dines there to wealthy German businessmen who drive the hour and a half from places like Stuttgart etc., rather then Alsatian locals, while they are entitled to do whatever they want, it shouldn't preclude anyone from pointing out that their pricing is geared to excluding a whole host of people. Not as a function of saying they are right or wrong to do it, but to properly disclose their intentions. A ripoff is a ripoff, free market or not.

When I heard the news that Michael del Burgo the chef at Taillevent was leaving at the end of the year, a funny feeling came about me. Three weeks earlier I had booked a table for dinner for my wife and I, her cousin and her fiancé, and now my inclination was to cancel. How could a chef on his way out be inspired to cook interesting food? I then set out on a long road of procrastination about what to do. It lasted so long that I found myself a week before the date of the reservation and I still hadn’t decided. My uncertainty was further compounded when a less then stellar review of a recent meal appeared on this website. And it got worse when all of a sudden I received an email from someone who had recently eaten at L’Elysees du Vernet and who reported that they had a terrific meal. Now I had a logical replacement as the chef at L’Elysees, Alain Lecomte, had been hired to replace del Burgo as the Taillevent’s chef. What to do? Just to show you how long my procrastination lasted (very much unlike me if you know me,) I took a little notebook with me on my trip and I wrote the telephone number of both Taillevent (to confirm or to cancel) and L’Elysees in it. There I was, the day before the date and I was still undecided as to what to do. It wasn’t until I picked up the phone that I was overcome by a certain sense of loyalty to one Monsieur Jean-Claude Vrinat and when they answered “Taillevent bonjour” that I decided to confirm instead of cancel. Taillevent is among the more conveniently located restaurants in Paris. It’s really right off the Champs-Elysees. You just turn north at rue Washington, walk two small blocks to rue Lamennais and turn left. Taillevent is about 100 yards up the street on the left. Rue Lamennais is a transition street, the further away you walk from rue Washington the more discreet the street is. By the time you reach the restaurant, the hotel particulaire that houses Taillevent doesn’t seem out of place at all. Since this was originally a private home, you enter the restaurant into a proper foyer (it’s good when names of spaces actually match, as opposed to the foy –yer in my Manhattan apartment, this was a actually faux-yay) where they greet you, take your coat etc. You then pass into a small transition room and if you went straight you would end up in the kitchen. But they lead you to the right into the buildings main entrance room. There are four tables of diners here, one in each corner. And directly in front of you there is an elegant staircase that leads to an upstairs dining room. It’s as if you have walked into an Atget photograph. But if you are to be seated in the main dining room, they lead you through the entrance room and into a room to the right of it that faces onto the street. This used to be the living room of the house. It is a fairly large space with tables along the walls and a row of back-to-back tables in the middle of the room; I am guessing it seats around 60 people. The room is paneled as if you are in a private club. And indeed that is what Taillevent is as much as a restaurant. It’s sort of like Rao’s or The Ivy with a well pressed suit on. They sat us at the corner table to the right of the door as you enter the room. After a few minutes of sipping glasses of champagne, they brought us menus. There is no separate wine list at Taillevent. The list is printed inside the menu. And quite a list it is. It is chock full of well priced wines when compared to what the same wines would cost elsewhere. Some of the wines, like the 1995 Raveneau Chablis Blanchots we drank, were priced at about what we might pay for it at auction. And the list of potential choices available was deep. Something that is quite unusual for a three star restaurant. Normally the lists are so overpriced that I am scavenging around looking for the one bargain. And if I get lucky I find two choices. But this list must have had four to five well-priced choices from each region in France. The other thing is that Taillevent is not a sommelier intensive restaurant. They have one who opens the bottles and pours the wine, but your captain is completely conversant in wine and can guide you through the list if you need help. It makes it slightly more user friendly. But there is one more plaudit they have earned. Invariably they always offer you a way to improve your wine choice with a wine that is off the list for a slightly higher price. In this instance, a few minutes after I ordered the Raveneau, the Captain returned to my table and offered me a 1990 Raveneau Chablis Clos, which is a Grand Cru for 128 euros. Quite a terrific price for what is arguably one of the better bottles of Chablis made in the last 50 years. But I have some experience with that wine, and I know that it still isn’t ready to drink and could probably use a good 90 minutes in a decanter before it opens up. So I stuck with a Premier Cru 1995 figuring it would be easier to drink on short notice. But still the offer to significantly improve my meal for a small increment in price deserves special mention. The menu at Taillevent is not the type that is ever going to blow anyone away. That isn't just true with del Burgo's menu; it was true of the menus the two chefs who preceded del Burgo devised as well. Flashy food featuring cutting edge technique and presentation is not Taillevent’s bailiwick. But that doesn’t mean you will see a menu full of items we stopped eating decades ago like Gigot en Croute. But somehow while the menu projects a cuisine that appears safe and conservative, what you end up with on your plate does not seem old fashioned or passé. Staid yes. But not without the house being cognizant of making things contemporary. Kind of like the way they modernize the design of a Mercedes 500 sedan over the years. I started with the Lacquered Challosse Foie Gras served with a three-fruit marmalade. It looked like they had composed Foie gras into the shape of a pie, lacquered the top and then roasted it. They served a slice in the shape of a wedge, not really much different in size then a small slice of a cream pie with a silver dollar size pile of marmalade on the side. Extremely good, and it isn’t quite Foie gras season yet either. The marmalade was lightly spiced, and it made a good foil for the Foie. Other starters at the table were a lightly fried egg stuffed with olive tapenade, and a pistou bouillon with flash-steamed vegetables. Each dish pronounced delicious by their owners. We also ordered the house signature dish which is a lobster sausage served in a creamy shellfish broth for the table. Excellent as usual. The Raveneau Chablis was a bit tighter then I would have liked. It exhibited certain steeliness that a 1995 Montee de Tonerre from the same producer didn’t exhibit when I had it earlier this year. The wine could use another 3-4 years or a good hour decant. For my main I had the veal chop. It is served for two, but it is slightly larger then the veal chop I usually eat at home for one. Then again, the veal chops I buy to cook at home are not quite as firm in texture or as rich as this chop. And after it is trimmed and sliced, each person is presented with a grand total of four perfectly even slices. But the meat is served with mushrooms and echalotte grise (the famous gray shallots from Normandy) that have been sautéed in the pan along with the veal chop and then sliced. Really top quality veal but the mushrooms and shallots were amazing quality. This made three nights in a row where the vegetables were absolutely top quality and better then what I’m used to getting at home. Similar reports of happiness came from other diners at the table who had the sea bream and the John Dory respectively. Our 1989 Meo-Camuzet Vosne-Romanee Chaumes was a bit disappointing. I’m a big fan of Meo’s ‘89’s and I’ve had numerous good bottles of his Vosne-Romanee Brulees and Clos Vougeot. This wine wasn’t anywhere as concentrated as those two are. A pleasant drink, but it wasn’t the level of quality that makes me purr. The evening’s humor was courtesy of my wife’s cousin’s fiancé Nathan. While we were waiting for our food, I told them how Taillevent is famous for cleaning stained ties during the dinner service. Sure enough, after we ate our entrees (those are starters in France,) I noticed that he had a large streak running down his tie. I told him I was going to notify our captain and he begged me not to. But I couldn’t resist. The captain noticed a little commotion at our table and he came over to see what was going on. I pointed to the tie, Nathan said that it was okay, but the Captain stood there with a stern look on his face and held his hand out for the tie. Nathan, a guy who sings in his synagogue choir on Saturday mornings was not about to challenge the Captain’s authority and dutifully removed the tie after which it disappeared from site. He was not a happy fellow. But the rest of us couldn’t stop laughing. The tie was missing for quite a while. Through our entire main course. Occasionally we would ask about its whereabouts and he would look at his watch and say it wasn’t ready yet. Then before the dessert course he appeared at our table with a grim face. The tie he was reporting could not be saved and they were going to try and turn it into a bowtie just so something could be salvaged. Then he said he would be right back and a moment later he returned with the tie on a silver platter and a small pair of silver scissors. Of course the tie was perfectly clean but he had his shtick down pat and he had us rolling in the aisles. It was all good fun but it makes the more important point that Taillevent, in spite of its air of superiority, is really a very relaxed place. I had some cheese (I can’t remember so don’t ask) and some sorbets of passion fruit, banana and coconut. I noticed that the famous Marquis au Chocolat (a chocolate terrine in pistachio sauce) dessert was missing from the menu and I asked about it. “We don’t serve it anymore” I was told. “That’s the price of progress." But my long face was brightened when they brought me a small plate of chocolate mousse in a pool of pistachio sauce. So in the end I was happy I kept my reservation at Taillevent. The food was top notch and the service was about as good as it gets. They couldn’t have been more gracious and a terrific time was had by all. But it’s a different type of three star experience then the one I had the night before at Arpege. Arpege, and restaurants like it, emphasize the gastronomic aspect of a three star meal. Taillevent while interested in serving three star, but not cutting edge food, is more about being pampered. And they are so good at it that you will have a hard time finding another place that does it as well. And if you are in the mood for that type of experience, I can’t think of a better place to take a meal.

Jon - That cost moght be an irrelevence to some people has nothing to do with whether the prices they charge are justified. Jay's question assumes that there has to be some sense of proportion to the pricing that is based on what things actually cost. And I think that at the heart of the question he is trying to ask, is the concept that in many ways, pricing at certain three star restaurants has lost a sense of proportion to ordinary dining. True that there was always a large incremental uptick for palaces of haute cuisine, but the issue is, what the uptick is these days, what is driving it, and how it is intended to, and who it does, impact on?

The veal chop was 106 euros for two. I don't think we would have ordered a 212 euro veal chop. Bordeaux prices in France are absurd. The 1994 vintage, while one I personally like, and which I think is underrated, is at best a middling to middling plus vintage. It's best wines like Latour, Leoville Las Cases and Barton, still should cost 80-100 pounds, and 40-60 pounds respectively. That Cos must have cost the Haeberlins 12 pounds. Do the math. Almost a 3000 percent markup.

What else would the practice of Plotnickiism be called?

Jay - Have you been reading some of the posts on the French board about prices in France this year? Robert Brown had a good thread going over the summer. And in my recent thread on Arpege, their is an entire aspect of the discussion that deals with whether the extrememly delicious tasting menu they serve you is worth 300 euros per person. Especially since the meal contains no foie gras, no truffles and no meat. And I haven't posted my review of Taillevent yet, but in one of the other threads there is a discussion of the 106 euro veal chop for two that we ate. To show you the abusrdity of the pricing, I am enclosing a link to the Farr Vintners website. If you surf through the site to the 1994 Bordeaux page, they list the price of 1994 Cos d'Estournel at 27 pounds a bottle. My lord you can get a magnum for 54 euros. It sounds like your bottle at Auberge costs almost 200 euros. That's outrageous. Farr Vintners I wish that someone who works (or who recently worked) in France and who knows what the ingredients that are used in places like the Auberge actually cost would chime in here. My kishkes (I'm sure Haeberlin doesn't know that word either) tell me there is a huge markup on that dish. I mean look at the markup on the wine. Assuming they were able to buy it at 40% off 27 pounds, they have marked it up 10 fold, or 1000%.

Stephen T. - I think you are describing the novelty factor that we apply to new foods that we taste for the first time and which we think are delicious. I just think that one has a difficult time setting their memory bar at the right place if they have only one experience. Especially if it's a food with so many alien tastes and unusual cooking techniques like Thai food. Indian food would be the same. Music is the same no? How many CD's did you like on the first listen only to find them less interesting on the second and third listens? So I think we need to exclude the novelty factor. Especially when the thing in question is so different from what you are used to eating. The first time I had Tom Yum Kung, it was jarring to my tastebuds. How could it not be? So many ingredients that are alien to my palate. But now I have the flavor memorized and when I order it I have a certain level of expectation. And the food either meets, exceeds, or falls short of expectations. Oraklet - Certain things almost always meet or exceed expectations. Aside from bottle variation, some botles of wine deliver the same punch every time. And like CDs, some wines seem great on the first few sips but grow less interesting the longer they sit in the glass. But there are so many reasons why one bottle of wine is performing well and another is performing poorly that it's hard to use wine as an example. For example, 1966 isn't a particularly distinguished year for CB but 1970 is held with some regard. But your 1966 could have been perfectly mature at the time and the 1970 could have needed another ten years. Wine is a fickle hobby.

But that depends on what you mean by "treat poorly."

Chris - That was good Pinter. I think Mamet's dialogue is a bit more expansive; Waiter: Would you like to drink with with your fish? Guest: The Burgundy Waiter: You mean the White Burgundy. Guest: No the red Burgundy I drank when I was here yesterday when the weird shit happened to me. Waiter: Weird shit, what weird shit is that sir? Guest: You know the weird shit that happened yesterday when you were dressed as the linen delivery guy and the coat check girl was the waiter and the chef was the policeman standing in front of the restaurant. In fact yesterday this place was an Italian restaurant and today it's a French restaurant. Waiter: I don't know what you're talking about sir. I was never the linen delivery guy and this place has been a French restaurant for the last 30 years. Guess: Never mind, I'll have the Charmes-Chambertin with my filet of sole. So I have been at USC twice since you went there and both times you weren't there. Where the hell were you?

Whiting - No my fish soup (the one at Loulou) is really very thin in body. It's sort of like a weightier consome. You must try it sometime if you are ever down there. It isn't loaded with additives either. And it is strained extremely well so there is nothing but broth. It is surprisingly subtle as well. It is sort of plain when you first take a spoonful and very mild. As you are eating through the first bowl the flavor deepens with each spoon. By the time they serve you the second bowl (there are three portions in the tureen they serve) the flavor is really intense. It's really a soulful soupe. Sort of like the Provencal fishrman's chicken soup. Heron - I think there are food memories we associate with events in our life where the experience enhances your memory of the taste. Besides Bourdain's experience with fish soup, there is Calvin Trillin's famous story of the macaroni and cheese at his parent's Kansas City home. But some memories last because the taste is so darn good. There used to be a famous kosher delicatessen in Queens called the Pastrami King. The first time I went there and had a pastrami sandwich, it tasted familiar to me. Then I found out that the original store was in Williamsburg, Brooklyn and I realized that my parents would buy takeout deli from that shop when they visited my grandmother who lived nearby. Here it was more then 20 years later and I could remember the taste of it from when I was an adolescent. Aren't there things you can remember from your youth?

First of all, whether I can pass the blind taste test or not, it is irrelevent to the concept of there being people with superior tasting experience who can do it. And that goes for food and wine. People who have an encyclopedia of flavors and scents in their mind have a much better vantage point in analyzing food and wine then people who don't. And I think this is true across the range of food and wine. I bet you that guy on this site John, the one who is the hot dog expert. I bet you he can tell which hot dog he is eating blind. I'm trying to find the right analogy to explain it and the closest I can think of is being able to discern someone's writing style from having a passage read out loud. Or the ability to describe a certain instrumental soloist by hearing a certain sequence of notes that reflects their style. How about Pinter or Mamet dialogue? Completely unique. Why do people think food and wine is any different? It's just a matter of codifying the tastes in your mind. Bux - California pinots do not mimic Burgundy at all in my experience. They are just too ripe. I wish they made ones that did. It would save us all a lot of money. As for red wine with fish, I drink red wine with fish all of the time. It doesn't pair so well with a white flaky flesh like sole as well as it goes with a meaty fish like monkfish. Saucing is important as well. A very buttery preparation like meuniere screams for a white wine. But pinot noir goes with salmon regardless of the prepration. And red wine, specifically a very acidic one goes great with tuna.

Actually not. The soupe I'm describing at Loulou in Cagnes sur Mer is very thin. Nothing chunky in it at all. It's slightly thicker then the consistancy of water. It needs rouille that is thickened with potatoes and grated gruyere cheese to give it some body.

Fisrt of all, I am not going to get 100% of them right. But I will get a good percentage of them right. And yes there are a number of vintners I will be able to know just based on how the wine smells. Of course, if you have been reading the memory of taste thread, the conditions have to be perfect. With less then perfect conditions I can get 100% of them wrong. But if the conditions are right and the trace characterstics are showing, I should be able to get at least half right just based on smelling the wines. You seem to be amazed at this but I know so many people who can do this that I don't find it unusual. What is it that you think wine collectors do? They collect these scents and these flavors in their memories. And it isn't really very hard to do. But like anything else you have to practice at it. This past summer my wife and I went to dinner with another couple. I brought a 1989 Batard-Montrachet and a 1990 Puligny-Montrachet les Combettes, both from the same producer with me. Because I thought we were going to switch to red wine for our second course, we drank the Batard first. Stunning. But everyone ordered fish so instead of switching to red we opened the Combettes. My wife, who is in no way expert, along with the other couple immediately pronounced the wine as less good then the Batard. And if it wasn't served right after the Batard I am certain they would have said the wine was great. Because that's what they think of it when it is served by itself which is something I serve them all of the time. If 100 people had this wine service poured for them everyday, most people would be able to identify the wines blindfolded after a certain period of time. Some people would only need a day or two. And some people might need 60 days. But I predict that at least half of the people get it right somewhere between 7-14 days. Like anything else, it's only a matter of practice.

John - And just to set the record straight, I was referring to soupe *de* poisson, the type that is pureed and strained after it is cooked. I never think of chunky fish soup as actually being a soup. It's more stewlike then souplike to me. Abd I always find the strained version more nuanced since all you are dealing with is liquid with intense (hopefully if its good) flavor.

I find that some of the threads we have going on have some overlap to them. Let me see if I can consolidate some of the concets in this thread. Dining is a learned skill. It sounds strange since everybody eats three meals a day and clearly you can call that dining. But when we talk about dining we are talking about a particular ritual that has a loose, but clear set of rules. And we talk about how to partake in that ritual, and what aspect the various people who play their roles in the ritual have. It starts with the people who answer the phone to take your reservation, and it continues through to the people who greet and seat you, take your order, cook the food, pour the wine etc. So I would say that the prerequisite for enjoying the type of meal we are describing is knowing how to do it. Of course that doesn't mean that if they dropped you into El Bulli from outer space, that you wouldn't find the meal delicious. Or that the ambiance might make you feel a certain way. But I doubt that the person I have described in the first part of the example will have the same exact experience as the person from outer space. This issue has come up in the snobbery thread. Aesthetics are just a form of communication. And each of us gets a different meaning from an aesthetic based on our prior experiences with similar aesthetics. So if we take Loufood's original question about Arpege and the setting when evaluating the egg, the answer is that a person who has less experience eating in those types of places won't associate the flavor and the texture with a three star restaurant. But you and I probably would. To me there are certain things that raise red flags for me. High fat content is one of them. A certain flavor to a sauce made from crustaceans are another. Silky textures are another one.

Peter - I think my original question assumes that things that cause variances in taste are the exceptions and not the rules. If I have enough experience at tasting say that fish soup I like so much, my memory will be calibrated for a range of results. Atypical results don't have much signifigance in the scheme of things because I have no use for them on a continuing basis other then to warn myself that an experience can be hit or miss. But the milemarkers I place in my memory depend on an acute awareness of how something tastes or smells. For example, it is much easier for me to recall the taste and smell of a strip steak cut from prime beef then it is for me to recall the way a veal chop tastes and smells. Veal chops while delicious, have a much more subtle taste to them. Whether that can be overcome by extensive tasting experience, or whether it's just bland compared to a strip steak is something to ponder. Stepehn T now raises the point that repetitiveness can dampen the results. It's a good point, and probably true. But Stephen, are you saying that in the first instance, if we really like a bottle of wine, that our memory tricks us into thinking that it was better then it really was? I will buy that. Quite often I eat or drink something and pronouce it delicious and then after additional examples I reevaluate its worthiness. But doesn't that point go to calibrating your memory? What does it have to do with being able to properly store away the information?

It's an interesting point. You realize that in order to make an interesting meal without any grains or carbs you have to cook those green and root vegetables perfectly. And you have to extract sauce from them in a natural way so as not to make the dishes heavy. Since I have never eaten there, how much if any did Loisseau's style of saucing influence this type of cuisine?

John - Just because it came from the same shop a week apart, doesn't mean they were from the same shipment from the U.S. It could be a popular wine and they could have sold it well and reordered it. The first shipment might have arrived 6 months earlier for all you know. But your point about our palates not being in top form every day is a good one. Just like musicians give more inspired performances on some days and lackluster ones on other days. But how do you think the off days impact on taste memory. To me, I think that we take a mental snapshot of the highs, and we chalk up the lows as an atypical example.

Well that's all fine with me but we have to determine what the object is. Are you saying that I won't be able to tell say a rioja from a cabernet sauvignon? Or a white Burgundy from a California chardonnay? I'm telling you it's easy for anyone with experience tasting wine as long as they have experience with the producer and the vintage chosen isn't atypical. It's also easier to do with mature wine because the unique characteristics of the producer's vineyard sites and style of winemaking have had time to develop in the bottle. Go read my taste memory thread. If you have enough experience tasting wine, you can memorize the tastes the same way you can memorize the difference in taste between a Big Mac and a Whopper. It's just a matter of practice. As for where and when, wait until you are going to be in NYC. I will organize a wine tasting dinner where the people there will identify the wines with such amazing specificity that it will change your mind forever on this subject.

John - Variance in food and wine are caused by many different things. Because it is bottled, wine is a particularly tricky thing to nail down so let's begin with that. Assuming the bottle you bought of California cabernet was of the same vintage as past bottles, you have a number of issues to deal with that might make that bottle different from prior ones. One, the wine could come from a different barrel then the other bottles came from. And the winemaker might have decided to leave the wine that comprises the second bottle in the cask somewhat longer for some reason. Then there is the issue of whether they were shipped to the U.K. in the same manner. The first botttles you had might have been shipped by boat (a week on a truck going across the U.S., time sitting in a warehouse in Elizabeth, N.J. or Baltimore, MD while a freight consolidator ammasses enough wine to ship) and the second bottle might have been shipped by air (anywhere from 2-7 days including clearance of customs.) Then the first batch might have been shipped in plain containers because it was shipped in November and they felt the temperature was cool enough that they didn't need to ship in refrigerated reefers but the later bottle was shipped in June so they shipped in refrigerated containers. Then after you have to take all of these variables into consideration, there's the issue of how each local distributor treates the wine, plus how each retailer treats the wine when it's in their warehouse or stores. And as if this isn't enough to screw up your bottle of wine, bad corks kill even the most carefully handled wines with everything from TLC (corked wines) to improperly milled corks that allow for a variance in the amount of air it allows into the bottle. With all these pitfalls that can happen to a bottle of wine, it's amazing one ever gets a good bottle. Then there is another issue that is somewhat speculative. In fact it is mostly speculative. I've had two different bottles of top quality wine that are fully mature within the same week. The first bottle is fabulous. Scents. aromas explode from the nose and the taste on the palate is amazing. Open the second bottle which comes from the same case a few days later and there is nothing. It's flat. Nothing wrong with the wine, it just never kicks into the same high gear as the bottle a few days earlier. There is a theory about this phenomenon (not purported by me mind you, I just report the news) that the barometric pressure has an impact on whether the aroma of the wine protrudes from the glass or whether it is trapped in the glass. And not knowing anything about the principal of barometric pressure, I can't tell you if there is any merit to it or if it's a bunch of nonsense. But I can tell you there are many wine drinkers who subscribe to the theory and who chalk up mediocre experiences with what should be great bottles of wine "due to the weather." Maybe this partly answers your question in regards to coffee as well. Aside from the voodoo I just mentioned, there is the ripeness of the beans they picked, how long the beans have been in storage, how they were roasted, any varience in the water from your tap that day etc. It's certainly an imprecise science isn't it?

There are two competing concepts floating around this board. One concept derives from a challenge about people's ability to taste wines blind and guess the information correctly. The person who raised the issue implies from his statement, that aside from professionals in the industry, people just don't remember tastes and flavors in an area like wine where the differences are so subtle and nuanced. You can apply the same principal to nuances in food. The other concept comes from someone who has stated that as much as they enjoy a certain restaurant (a famous three star restaurant to be more specific) their last meal there although enjoyable, seemed repetitive. To me that means the meal did nothing more then meet his expectations of it (his memory of prior meals) and so he doesn't intend to go anymore because of the "been there, done that factor." I'm wondering how these two concepts co-exist. I find that I have a pretty good memory for tastes. But some things are easier to remember then others. Going back to wine, it happens to be a difficult thing to remember for the reasons stated. But one can memorize the tastes nonetheless. But though I might be able to tell a Griotte-Chambertin from a Clos de la Roche when they are in glass, my memory of their tastes is not so indelibly etched in my mind to the extent where I can "smell" the difference when imagining them. But last week when I was in Nice, I ate my favorite fish soup. And although I always vividly imagine how it tastes, I find that fish soup is so nuanced a dish that it never tastes quite like I imagined it. I only get about 80% of the way there in my mind (and this might have to do with a variation in the soup from day to day.) But there are other things that I eat where a bite meets 100% of my expectations. For example I don't eat wheat because of a sensitivity to it. But sometimes when I am dining with someone who has say a brick oven anchovy pizza, or a certain type of pasta etc. I cheat and take a little taste. And I usually find that it meets the expectations set by my memory 100% of the time. So what is food memory? What allows us to remember tastes and why are certain tastes easier to remember then others? And to get into a more interesting, but possibly stickier area, what impact does food memory have on how people enjoy their food?

Yes but they aren't necessarily light when they are open.

The answer to Mplc's question (which also responds to Robert B.'s post) is that what is important are your expectations. If you know you are eating at a 3 star establishment, if you arrive and you eat in a simple room you are still calibrated a certain way. That is wholly different from arriving in a barn wearing jeans and a t-shirt expecting a farmhouse meal. And then you find the staff is all dressed in white tails serving everything in silver. Delicious food is delicious food, but expectations are also expectations. And no matter how delicious food can be, surroundings that are perfect can only serve to enhance your experience.

Gknl - Yes, that certain things taste like drivel. Just like your opinion can be drivel, or mine can be drivel too when either of us get it wrong. I don't know what you do for a living, or for a hobby, but I am sure that whatever they are there are people in those fields who are far more expert then you. Do you disagree with that? I will repeat this for the third time. Nobody has offered a proffer that says that what passes for good taste today will permanently be considered good taste. What I have said is that things are right and wrong depending on the context of the question asked. If you don't accept the context the question is framed in, then we can't have an agreement on what is right and what is wrong. That is what drives this debate. It is pedantry of the highest order masquerading as relativism. Using the beverage with steak example, if I take the original question of what should one drink with steak, the answer to that question depends on the inference drawn. I will immediately draw the book inference which is wine. Somebody else might see the question as asking what is enjoyable to them and say milk or prune juice. And because we interpert the question differently, an argument ensues. But if the question was framed differently, and asked this way, "what do experts in the food industry suggest you drink with steak?" There will be only two answers, wine or beer. That's why this conversation keeps going around in circles. It's an argument about what inference we are each entitled to draw from questions that are less then specific in what they ask. What I can tell you is that those of us who have been eating top level cuisine for the last 20-40 years pretty much draw the same inferences and would answer the question the same way. We would answer objectively and state personal preference as an aside. In fact go read Tommy's wine/beverage poll and that is exactly how I respond. I say red wine but I also announce I drink Sprite on nights I don't want to drink wine. But unless the question is asked with a degree of specificity where people cannot superimpose their personal preferences onto the question, they argue they are allowed to answer the question anyway they like. That's a non-starter and why we argue this point so often and for so long. For some extremely stubborn reason, people do not want to admit there is an objective way to answer the question, and a subjective way to answer it. Deacon - You are making a very large mistake and I would not place a large wager on this if I were you. And I can't imagine you have read some of my restaurant reviews on this site (or my wine writing on certain other sites) and are still confident to make some of the statements you made in your last post. Not only will you see me get the countries of origin right, I will differentiate between regions and varietals, and pick out which producer made the wine providing I have experience with the producer. And I'm not a professional in the industry either. I'm just an "amateur" as the French would say. But most producers have a house style. Fortunately for me, I have tasted through the range of the last 50 years of vintages of most every region and of most of the top producers. Lxt - Okay you have redeemed yourself in my eyes from some of those onorous statements you made in that other thread. Ahem.

Some of the dishes are intensely delicious. What makes the meal different is no carbs. There aren't any grains at all. You would think that a meal without meat would cheat and use potatoes for bulk. But he's managed a way to make you feel satisfied without the bulk. I have to add that when you leave there you feel full, but not the bloated type of full that you can feel after downing a rack of lamb and a large portion of creamy mashed potatoes.