slkinsey

There is a point to be made here that not all fast food is bad and not all fast food is bad for you. They have been making fast foods in Mexico and Singapore and Vietnam and lots of other places all over the world that are perfectly healthful and absolutely delicious for centuries.

So... a little while back, I noticed that a new restaurant had opened up on the Southeast corner of 109th Street and Broadway where there had previously been a filthy fried chicken shop into which I had never ventured. The restaurant was called Rack & Soul and purported to be a half-barbecue, half-soul food restaurant. The barbecue side of Rack & Soul is designed and overseen by John Wheeler, a homebuilder and competitive barbecuer from Mississippi who comes in once a week to tweak the smokers, etc. The soul food side of the restaurant is run by Charles Gabriel from Charles' Southern Style Kitchen in Harlem, where he is known for his pan-fried chicken. I was eager to give it a try. The first time I visited, with Eric_Malson, was unfortunately a disappointment. The restaurant had just opened, and was slammed with customers (interestingly, they were around 75% families of Israeli Jews out for some smoked pork after the end of Passover). We were told it would take at least 30 minutes for our food to come to the table. It didn't take that long, but when the food arrived it wasn't particularly impressive. The menu has no appetizers, but each dish comes with two sides from an interesting list, and all the sides are available as invidiual orders. They were already out of pulled pork, so we each ordered the combination platter of fried chicken and baby back ribs with collard greens and macaroni and cheese. The ribs were undercooked, with none of that "pulling apart tenderness" you'd like to see. The fried chicken was not particularly crisp. More to the point, everything was critically underseasoned. I left feeling like I'd give them another chance, and hoping they'd learn how to use the salt and pepper shakers by my next visit. On several subsequent visits, I have not been disappointed. The fried chicken, as expected from someone with Mr. Gabriel's pedigree and reputation, has been crispy and tender with a nicely salty skin. The barbecue has been performing at a much higher level. I have so far tried the pulled pork, baby back ribs and beef short rib from among their barbecue offerings. All were nicely smokey and cooked properly, although the pulled pork could have bee fattier/moister for my taste. The beef short rib is particularly well done, smokey, sticky and unctuous. They also offer bbq chicken wings, bbq salmon and a bbq half chicken. I'll probably try the salmon one day, and they also offer ox tails which I'd like to sample in the future. The sides have also been very good. Long-cooked collard greens have clearly benefitted from spending time in the pot with copious amounts of salty pork products. Asparagus comes heaped in a ridiculously large pile of green stalks. They even have excellent Belgian waffles, creating a serious temptation to double-order the waffle sides with a full order of fried or smothered chicken. Other offerings include broccoli, string beans, baked beans, black-eyed peas, lima beans, candied yams, cole slaw, stewed okra, mararoni and cheese, yams, white rice, mashed potatoes, potato salad and french fries. I've bad the baked beans, mac & cheese and potato salad since my first visit. These have been good to very good. Must-tries for me are the rest of the legumes and the mashed potatoes. Rack & Soul does have a modest and interesting wind list, including some barbecue and fried-chicken friendly wines like reisling. There are also several interesting beers on the menu, such as Gosser and Abita. I wouldn't know about any of this, because I always have a bottomless glass of either lemonaid or iced tea. These are seriously old-school concoctions, and heavy on the sugar in a way that can sneak up on you after a few glasses. More than a few times I've left Rack & Soul feeling like I needed an insulin injection. So far I have tried two of the desserts: rather uninteresting and dry pecan pie and an delicious, moist and absolutely gigantic slice of red velvet cake that is not to be missed. Be forewarned, however. This is easily enough cake for three to four people, and it is very sweet. So... Rack & Soul is a nice neighborhood place and a welcome addition. I wouldn't say that they're quite on the same level as Dinosaur, but the relative ease in getting there and getting a table for those of us on the Upper Upper West Side more than makes up for the difference. If you're in the area, I encourage you to check it out.

One thing to keep in mind about the line service is that these were people who worked for the event company, not for the individual barbecue purveyors. Unfortunately, the level of competence and service was not high. At one point I wanted to buy $28 worth of food, but only had $25 on my fastpass -- it took literally 15 minutes for the cashier to figure out how to do that (it eventually took persuading the overloaded booth manager to focus for 30 seconds and do the transaction himself). Still... the Q was outstanding, as always.

Have a look over here.

Flatiron Lounge is absolutely one of the best cocktail spots in the country, make no mistake about that. But, for better or worse, it's located on 19th Street between Fifth and Sixth avenues. That means that they're going to get a certain kind of crowd at certain times and on certain days of the week. If Pegu Club were next door to Flatiron Lounge, you'd see exactly the same thing there. And remember that Pegu Club at 11 on a Friday night isn't always exactly a cocktail monastery. Also... for what it's worth, and this is something we've chatted about a few times, I don't think Julie is going for "serious" or "cocktail shrine" at Flatiron. She's looking for great high-end cocktails, of course, but also for highly accessible high-end cocktails and a fun vibe for the neighborhood. Flatiron succeeds on all these points, and is absolutely a destination spot for the serious cocktailian at the right times. But yea, I agree... the "after work twentysomething rush" times aren't exactly "our times" for FL. Yes. I do. And I think it's quite clear that plenty of other people in these forums do as well. But then again, as with restaurants and sushi bars, etc. people have different reasons to go. If your reasons for visiting a high-end cocktail bar like Pegu are not the same as ours, then it makes sense that you won't "get it" the way we get it. This isn't to say that you don't "get it" entirely -- just perhaps that your "getting it" is different from ours. From what you have written, it seems that the reasons you visit bars and consume cocktails are not the same as ours. I think if you read back through these posts, you will see a lot of people saying that they visit Pegu Club for reasons that exactly contradict statements you have made. They do like watching bartenders work, they're not ultimately just "there to drink," they do think there is something to be said for having more than one kind of gin, they do go to enjoy the genius of a perfect cocktail, they do go to be "educated and have a whole 'experience,'" etc, etc, etc. That's okay. Nothing wrong with that. Like I said, there are plenty of people who "won't get" Sushi Yasuda the same way an experienced sushi enthusiast will, or "won't get" Daniel the way an experienced fine dining enthusiast will. Doesn't mean that Sushi Yasuda isn't the brilliant sushi bar everyone says it is, though, or that Daniel isn't also great. I should add, for what it's worth, that there's nothing insulting intended in suggesting that some people are more experienced in cocktails and therefore able to understand and appreciate things about them that others are not. I think we would all agree that this is the case with haute cuisine, sushi, opera, painting, architecture, ballet, wine, etc. Certainly I know that there are things professionals like Audrey and Dave can appreciate about cocktails on a level and in a context that I can't.

I actually think that the comparison of a bar like Pegu Club to a sushi place like Yasuda works pretty well. There are a lot of the same elements and considerations at play. Edited to add: FWIW, I think Pegu Club has a very sexy room.

I think it's good to get a little perspective when it comes to the price situation. Yes, spending 300 bucks on an eleven-inch/4.5-quart stainless lined heavy copper saucière isn't cheap. On the other hand, this is an incredibly versatile pan -- perfect for reductions, sautéing, finishing pasta with the sauce, etc. If you're like me, this will quickly become the most-used pan in your battery. Also, this is 300 bucks for a pan that will last the rest of your life. Think about how much you spend on a computer or a DVD player or a television. More than 300 bucks, for sure. And these are things that maybe last 5 years. How can it be that a laptop with a 3 year lifespan is worth two thousand dollars, and a pan with a 50+ year lifespan is not worth three hundred?

Pegu Club is a place that I think most anyone can appreciate. But just like with haute cuisine and sushi and anything else at a certain level, I think there are things one needs to have a certain amount of experience and education in to fully appreciate about a place like Pegu Club. To make a comparison, let's suppose someone walks into Sushi Yasuda, sits at a table instead of the bar, orders a California roll and a few pieces of salmon nigiri sushi, then says: "Is that it? Is this idea so revolutionary? Super-fresh fish and high quality rice? Surely it can't be too hard to do sushi on this level in a nicer location?" (Substitute any top haute restaurant in a similar scenario, like walking into Daniel and having a simple roast chicken.) Now... you might say: "Um... If it were easy to do sushi on that level, everyone would be doing it. Maybe it's possible that you didn't quite take advantage of everything Sushi Yasuda has to offer, and maybe it's the case that you don't quite understand enough about sushi to fully appreciate what they're doing there." Indeed, this is something we have seen written in these forums time and time again about various restaurants and diners. All of which is to say that there are plenty of revolutionary things about Pegu Club. There aren't too many bars that carry over 20 different bottlings of gin and have bartenders with the knowledge and skills to take advantage of the distinctive properties of all those different gins. There aren't too many bars where you can choose from a menu of distinctive cocktails created by a top mixologist like Audrey and her staff. There aren't too many bars staffed with bartenders who have such a comprehensive knowledge of mixology that they can make all the classics, no matter how obscure -- and if they don't know it from memory, they're happy to consult the first printing of The Gentleman's Companion or one of the other legendary classic reference books behind the bar. There aren't too many bars staffed with bartenders who can create a custom progression of cocktails for customers on the fly based on a spirit, flavor, concept or style. There aren't too many bars that are using only top quality ingredients like Kold Draft ice cubes, fresh juices, soda out of bottles rather than a gun, etc. I could go on. But suffice it to say that, yea, Pegu Club is a special place and no, there aren't a lot of places that are even remotely in the same league. But, again, depending on the person and the circumstance, I think it's entirely possible to go in there and not be blown away. Just like it's possible to go into Sushi Yasuda or Daniel and not be blown away. Next time, try sitting at the bar on a Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday evening, branch out a little more with your cocktail choices and let the bartenders guide you. I think you'll have a more favorable impression.

While you're at it, shake up a Flaming Orange Gully for an eG-themed drink: 1.5 oz : Stolichnaya Ohranj 1.0 oz : Velvet Falernum 1.0 oz : fresh orange juice 0.5 oz : fresh lime juice 2 dashes : Angostura bitters Shake and strain. Garnish with a flamed orange peel and fresh grated nutmeg.

Taylor's Velvet Falernum is, as far as I can tell, the original. So if you have that, you're fine. ...not that I think there's anything wrong with using the Fee Brothers syrup.

I put hot pans on my wood cutting boards all the time with no ill effect. Then again, back when I was growing up, we were a lot less careful about that kind of thing. My mother would cut up a chicken or some pork chops on the cutting board, give it a swipe with a damp sponge and then proceed to cut up some raw vegetables for salad. And here's the thing: none of us ever got sick from it. Not once.

What was the reasoning behind not setting a hot pan on the cutting board? The only things that occur to me is that it could possibly burn a wooden cutting board, and would surely melt a plastic one.

PN, it seems to me that the grammar question is one that can't be definitively answered. Your explanation makes some sense, I agree. But I have most often heard my explanation from my cook and trattoria owner friends in Italy. Certainly one can always come up with a "hidden" noun of whatever gender anc claim that it is being modified by an adjective. But these words also work grammatically, and more commonly, as nouns themselves. Looking at something like tacchino alla romana, the word "romana" can either be interpreted as an adjective modifying some unspoken feminine noun, or it can be interpreted as indicating a female Roman ("una romana"). I don't see that it's logically provable one way or the other. In any event, this fork of the discussion seems to have played itself out and no longer seems germane, so I'll leave it at that.

How would this explain pollo alla cacciatora, in which there is no salsa? How would this explain something like pesto alla Genovese? I'll only point out that Lo Zingarelli has marinaro as an old form of marinaio. If marinaio has the meaning "sailor," then marinaro is an old word for "sailor" despite the fact that it may not have that primary meaning today. Lo Zingarelli also has marinara as the feminine form of marinaro, along with some additional and more modern usages.

Lo Zingarelli has marinaro as an old form of marinaio (sailor). It says further that alla marinara speaks of culinary preparations which bring into relief fish, crustaceans and mollusks. How this might relate to the tomato sauce most Italian-Americans know as "marinara" -- I have no idea. Perhaps Southern Italians tended to be stereotyped by the use of a spicy, garlicy tomato-based sauce with these ingredients? There are a lot of preparations that change meaning even from one region of Italy to another (e.g., something known in Milano as "alla Genovese" may be completely unknown in Genova), never mind from one country/culture/continent to another.

Marinaro means "seafaring" according to my dictionary. And thus, un marinaro would be "a seafarer" -- or perhaps "seaman" would be more apt. ("Of the sea," I think, is generally marino, as in sale marino.) FWIW, I didn't pull the "wives" thing out of my ass. It's what I was told by a person with some expertise in Italian etymology.

The "a" at the end (and this is Italian Grammar) is because of the sauce (salsa) or Pizza or Pasta ends with "a" and doesn't mean that was cooked by a woman, although I agree that the meaning is not easily found in the ingredients but more often in other associations. I don't think you are correct here. For example, were you correct, a dish made of chicken topped with tomato and mozzarella would be called pollo alla pizzaiolo so that the "o" of pollo and the "o" of pizzaiolo would correspond. It's a reasonable idea, but it doesn't work out that way. The correct name of the dish would be pollo alla pizzaiola, with an "o" on pollo and an "a" on pizzaiola. For similar reasons, it is pollo alla cacciatora and not pollo alla cacciatore (although this dish is most often given by Italian-Americans as "chicken cacciatore" in an interesting gender switch). Ask yourself what you're saying when you say, "spaghetti alla marinara" (note that the vowel ends do not correspond). You're not saying, "sailor spaghetti." You're saying, "spaghetti in the style of..." or "as it would be made by..." the sailor's wife. When the name of the dish is shortened from spaghetti alla marinara to simply spaghetti marinara, the sense of "in the style of, or as it would be made by the sailor's wife" still remains. Else, according to your grammatical model, the dish would properly be named "spaghetti marinari" -- right?

Pomodoro is simply Italian for "tomato." There are plenty of tomato-based sauces in Italy.

Qwerty, as others in these forums have pointed out, people said the same thing about gas-fired stoves when they started to replace wood-fired stoves.

I don't think I've ever seen a tomato-based "alla marinara" sauce in Italy. Not saying that they don't exist, but I've never seen one. There are two things that seem clear... 1. The concept of calling something "alla marinara" is not an Italian-American invention. Italians have been calling things "alla _____" forever. Two things should be pointed out here: First is that they traditionally end with an "a" to signify that it's the wife who is doing the cooking. Second is that the reason something is associated with a certain mood, person, place or profession may not be as obvious as one might think. This is to say that a dish "alla marinara" doesn't have to include any fish. After all, dishes that are cooked "alla cacciatora" don't necessarily use ingredients that are hunted. Sometimes the association can be purely poetic (e.g., large flakes of black pepper possibly symbolizing ashes in spaghetti alla carbonara), and sometimes no one seems to be able to agree. 2. The concept of a spicy, garlicy, tomato and oregano sauce is not an Italian-American invention. Whether or not it is clear that a spicy, garlicy, tomato and oregano sauce called "alla marinara" is not an Italian-American invention... I'm not convinced it's clear. Francesconi offers a plausible conjecture. What also seems clear is that "marinara sauce" occupies a much larger share of Italian-American culinary mindspace than it does Italian. Interestingly, it has never seemed that there is such a thing as a definitive "marinara sauce" in the States. Everyone seems to agree that it's not a meat sauce, but other than that I don't see that there is a great uniformity. I've come to believe that many Italian-Americans grew up calling whatever their non-meat tomato-based sauce may have been "marinara." It's certainly not the case that you can walk into any Italian-American restaurant, order "spaghetti with marinara sauce" and get anywhere near the commonality you would get with, say, "veal parmesan."

It's interesting about certain rye cocktails and the rye you use. I find that Dave's Tombstone (just rye, 2:1 demerara simple and bitters) needs a 100 proof rye to work, and in fact really works better with Wild Turkey's slightly rough profile compared to Rittenhouse's suaveness. On the other hand, I've found that the Blinker only seems to work with Old Overholt.

mbanu, I'm curious... where did your quote come from. Is it an actual quote -- in which case I think it's likely misguided -- or is is a strawman to illustrate your point? FWIW, I do think that many, but not all classic cocktail enthusiasts tend towards drier and stronger. That's certainly my preference, although that is not to say that there aren't sweeter and weaker cocktails that I admire and appreciate. I'm actually quite fond of long drinks and silver fizzes. In terms of many of the leading cocktailians with whose work I am familiar (Audrey, Dave, Gary, Dale, Julie, Robert, etc.) I'd say that the preference for strong and sour over sweet and weak is not especially prevalent. Several of them have a definite sweet tooth. And, of course, it is a fact that bars do serve an awful lot of (usually vodka-based) sickly sweet soda-shop pancake syrup crap nowadays.

Read above. Definitely no flaming.

I find it interesting that so many people seem to hold the opinion that the pasta dishes are the real interest at Babbo and that the secondi are lower in quality. Many of the secondi there I think are among the best of their kind. Standouts I've had are their grilled branzino with roasted cardoons, duck cabbage and speck, grilled quail, rabbit with brussels sprouts and pancetta, the grilled pork chop, the fennel dusted sweetbreads with sweet and sour onions, duck bacon and membrillo vinegar (one of the best sweetbread dishes in the City), an the "deconstructed" ossobuco for two. All of these dishes, IMO, more than stand up to the pasta dishes in interest and quality. That said, the pasta dishes are excellent, of course, and I think it's also possible that they may hold more immediate appeal to those who are not as familiar with the "Italian way with protein." Still, though, I'd feel that I was missing out if I were to dine at Babbo only on pasta.

Hmmm... I've never managed to get very good Orval in the States. I think it's especially sensitive to handling. Mine favorites in no particular order, would go something like this: Rodenbach Grand Cru Chimay Cinq Cents Any of the really sour, horsey lambics Duvel I need to get back into beer more. I used to really seek out a lot of interesting beers, especially beers of Belgium. But my beer drinking has tapered off as my cocktail and spirits drinking has increased. I was reminded of my fondness for Belgian beers during a recent trip to Burp Castle in NYC for a friend's birthday. Sadly, their once comprehensive list has seriously declined over the last decade. I can remember when it wouldn't fit on a single page.