slkinsey

I beleive that was probably the Dreamy Doritiny(maybe) made with an Islay. Proper full name of the drink would be: Dreamy Dorini Smokin' Martini. I think it's the glass rinse of Ardbeg scotch that provides the Liqiud Smoke flavoring equivalent in that particular drink. It's been around for a while & appears in Gary's 2003 book:

They had a very nice Pineapple Pisco Sour at Pegu when it opened. Just pineapple-infused pisco in the regular formula.

Interesting stuff, Rob. Keep it coming.

Okay, but isn't part of the point that if you write a sucky detective novel that isn't all that different from a thousand other sucky detective novels, you still have copyright protection?

Yep. And there are many castings of Rodin's "The Thinker."

Well... not exactly. It was once commonplace for operatic composers to rewrite, rescore or reconfigure their operas in order to suit the singers and orchestral players who would be performing them. Mozart's Don Giovanni, for example, actually exists as two discrete versions of the opera -- the original version for performance in Prague with a strong tenor, and an adjusted version for performance in Vienna with a weak tenor and a strong seconda donna (interestingly, the currently performed "standard edition" is a combination of both versions, which was never contemplated by the composer). This is roughly akin to your example of deciding to use a little fennel one day because it is so fragrant (or to not use any fennel one day because it isn't very good). Right, but that's what we're saying here. In the other thread, I brought up the example of Outback Steakhouse's "Bloomin' Onion" which has been widely copied and never credited (if indeed theirs is the original). People seemed to feel that the Bloomin' Onion is not deserving of the same legal or ethical considerations as Dufresne's prawn pasta. You're saying here (and I have been saying) that, given a value-neutral approach, it is.

Heh... I forgot about your vast library of Spearsiana. Steven, I absolutely agree on that point. But I have some question as to whether the works of Brittney Spears deserve the same kind of IP protection as the works of Giuseppe Verdi (which, ironicaly, do not have any such protection). And, that's part of what I have been trying to say: People are arguing that Adria and Dufresne ought to have legal IP protection for their "artistic works" and yet, as you say, "no matter how bad your work sucks, it's protected just as much as the Mona Lisa and the Ode to Joy" (again ironically, both works for which I doubt any IP protection exists). So, here's the deal: You want to give Adria and Dufresne IP protection after they "publish their artistic works" by serving them in their restaurants. . . you had better be prepared to do the exact same thing for the guy who figures out a way to make cheese-stuffed hot wings.

If you think the work of Britney Spears has more artistic merit than the work of Ferran Adria, you're certainly entitled to that opinion. But you're wrong. Not to mention, if you're visiting El Bulli because you're hungry . . . . First of all, to the best of my knowledge Brittney Spears is a performer, not a composer. Therefore it is more appropriate to compare her to a line cook at El Bulli rather than Ferran Adria (or perhaps a cook at Olive Garden?). But here, as you have pointed out many times, we're talking about ethics and not law. Brittney Spears recordings have certain IP protections because of copyright law, but I for one don't feel that there is a great ethical obligation there. If you're asking whether I think the work of Giuseppe Verdi and Pablo Picasso have more artistic merit than the work of Ferran Adria, if I feel that Otello and Guernica are far greater artistic expressions than melon caviar and carrot air. . . Yes. Yes, I do. And this is not taking anything away from Adria's brilliance.

Uhhh, no it isn't. There is no copyright on "that first performance" of a piece of music. There is only a copyright on the score of the music. The only time a performance can sort-of be copyrighted is when it is recorded. And, even then, the performance isn't copyrighted -- the recording of the performance is.

Tomatoes had some trouble gaining acceptance in Italy, but were widely consumed by the 1700s. That's a couple hundred years of culinary use -- plenty of time for them to be considered firmly traditional. But why stop there? Consider that the spicy chili peppers featured so prominently in Thai and Chinese cooking also came from the New World.

Well, here's the thing about IP rights: they apply to everyone irrespective of perceived "level." Danielle Steel's copyrights -- or mine for that matter -- are just as valid as Philip Roth's.

Very well stated, Pedro. Makes some good sense.

At the risk of offending the core audience in these forums, I'm not sure I'd classify cooking in the same category as composing a symphony, writing a novel, directing a movie or creating a sculpture. One might conceivably equate cooking with an interpretive art such as a musician actually executing a composition, or an actor actually performing a role. But those interpretations have zero protection, only recordings of those interpretations have protection (and only in the US, for that matter). If someone performs the role of Othello and substantially imitates Laurence Olivier's interpretation, there are many ways this might be viewed -- but "plagiariam" isn't one of them. Personally, I am more inclined to equate cookng with building a really amazing chest of drawers than I am composing an opera, which is to say high artifice rather than high art. Needless to say, there are a few notable exceptions.

This is kind of sad, I think. Where is the joy in that? Where is the pride? Where is the intellectual stimulation?

Here's the question I have about this whole thing: Who says that when you walk into a restaurant and are served a certain dish that there is an inherent expectation that the dish is wholly original to the chef of that particular restaurant, from recipe to execution to plating? Where is this line drawn? Why does there seem to be the belief these principles are somehow correctly applied to lobster skewered on an injection bulb and not to, for example, the pizza-making process developed at Otto?

In re to using live cultures of liquid yeast, one way to really kick off the fermentation is to brew a small "pitching batch" a few days before so you can grow up some extra yeast (Chris may be planning on explaining this later). This is easy to do, since you don't really care about the taste: smack the pack & when it is inflated, boil some malt powder (maybe with a few pellets of hops) with maybe a quart of water, decant it into a sanitized glass bottle and chill, pitch the yeast and put on an airlock. In a day or two, the yeast will have fermented the liquid into "beer." What's more important is that the population of yeast cells you have on hand will have radically increased. While you're boiling your wort, etc. just put the bottle in the refrigerator so most of the yeast goes temporarily dormant and sinks to the bottom of the bottle. Decant off most of the liquid, and when it is time to pitch the yeast for your actual batch of beer just swirl the bottle to stir up the yeast and pour it into your fermenter.

I really don't have a lot of respect for this kind of attitude. I've seen the bartenders at Flatiron Lounge bang out one labor intensive specialty cocktail after another while completely slammed on a weekend night. That said, I can understand that it may be a pain in the butt to make things like a Martini or a Manhattan that have a high probability of generating complaints due to the fact that there are so many different ideas about how they are made. For example, I know of bartenders at locations where the "super extra dry" Martini is in vogue who simply don't bother using any vermouth at all -- and yet a few people will still try to return one every night because it's "not dry enough."

Yes, a vrey nice place but, as Ed points out, not exactly bargained price. Unless one is inclined to mortgage the house and buy one of the (impresive looking) tiered seafood platters, I think other places offer similar quality for a better price. The strip steaks I've had at Landmarc, for example, have been better than the one I had at Sascha, which was a little tight in texture for my taste -- and while Landmarc's frites don't hold a candle to the gargantuan pile of fried potato that came with my steak at Sascha, I'm not sure those frites are enough to justify a five dollar price difference. All that said, if I lived of worked in the area, I could see myself dropping into the downstairs Gansevoort Room from time to time for a burger and some of those delicious frites. The cocktail list also contains some interesting concoctions worth trying, although perhaps a bit on the sweet side for my palate.

Re the simple syrup information... When we mix one cup of sugar with one cup of water, we do not end up with two cups of simple syrup. We actually end up with quite a bit less. According to the Mixologist article, 1:1 simple syrup has around 17.7 grams of sugar per fluid ounce. Since a teaspoon of granulated sugar weighs 4 grams, this comes to 4.4 teaspoons per fluid ounce. Working from that, Gary's Daiquiri recipe has 2 ounces rum, one ounce lime juice and 2.2 teaspoons of sugar. Dave's Daiquiri recipe has 2 ounces of rum, a half ounce of fresh line juice and 1 teaspoon of sugar. Gary's recipe has double the lime juice and, as a result, it has approximately double the sugar to balance the sourness. In either case, the sugar will be tweaked depending on the sweetness of the lime. Whether one prefers one version or the other will largely be a matter of preference, and beyond that may depend on the character of the rum one is using.

Looks delicious! Ah Leung, one small suggestion on opening an oyster: The technique for opening an oyster and opening a clam are the opposite. When you open a clam, you slide the knife in between the shells at the side where the shell comes open, and work the knife back towards the hinge severing the muscles. With an oyster, you stick the point of the knife down in between the two shells at the hinge, and then pop the two shells apart using the knife as a lever. http://www.jacquespepin.net/members/techni...openoyster.html

This brings up an interesting point. Not everyone would necessarily be pleased to be formally credited for derivative or imitative dishes. I could see an instance where a restaurant was serving a dish that credits another chef, and the credited chef might not be too happy about it. He might assert that the second restaurant was making money using his name without permission, or that the reproduced dish was not faithful to the original or up to the standards of the original. Indeed, I imagine that this sort of complaint would be commonplace. From the chefs' perspective, I wonder if it is the case that they would like to be given credit where due, or if perhaps it is more the case that they simply wouldn't want anyone else making those dishes or working with those ideas but themselves.

Let us suppose for a moment that it were possible to collect royalties and mandate citations for substantially derivative "culinary works." Does everyone agree that this is a good thing? Where would we draw the line? The example I made above of the "fried onion flower" seems roughly analogous to copying Dufresne's prawn pasta. Do we agree that they are equally worthy of such ethical (and perhaps legal) consideration? Do we agree that the culinary world would be better if all restaurants serving a knockoff of JGV's molten chocolate cake had to pay a royalty and credit JGV on their menus? What level of imitation is acceptable and what is not? Do we agree that every uncredited food item on a menu is inherently claimed as an exclusive creation of that chef? Why do we feel that prawn noodles are worthy of such consideration, and yet luxe hamburgers with truffles and foie gras, or onions deep fried in a certain way are not?

Andy, that's a copyright issue. You can copyright the recording of an idea (be that on paper or tape) but you can't copyright the idea, or even necessarily the expression of the idea.

This is an interesting topic, Kent. On the one hand, it is sad in a way for certain cultural traditions and foods to be lost when families immigrate. On the other hand, to a large extent, the ultimate success of immigrants in their new country is dependent upon their success at integrating with the predominant and successful culture in that country. Cultures that have a history of great success in America have typically placed a high value on such integration, wanting their children to grow up as Americans and not as "Chinese (or whatever) living in America." My observation has been that it is not at all uncommon for first generation immigrant parents to deliberately emphasize American culinary customs and the English language, in the belief that it will help their children succeed here. This belief, I think, is one that is largely supported by empirical evidence. People from Asian cultures, in particular, seem to practice this upon immigration to the United States, and considering how widely different these cultures are from American culture, I have to believe that it has something to do with their remarkable success here. I can't say I'd do any differently. If I had a family and we were to immigrate to Italy, I would want my children to be Italians. I would emphasize Italian language skills over English, and Italian culinary traditions over American. This is not to say that I wouldn't still try to preserve some traditions (Thanksgiving, for example). But the reality is that most of our "American-ness" would be lost by the third generation anyway.

Well, first of all you're crazy if you think musicians receive royalties every time their recordings are sold or played in a commercial venue. There are several "bootleg" recordings of operas in which I performed a role available for sale, and I have never received a dime nor was my permission ever sought. Anyway, I digress. . . The main problem with your comparison is that the two examples are not similar. A recording is a preserved example of the artist's work from the artist's own instrument. A recipe or conception is not. Now, if Vongerichten's staff were baking molten chocolate cakes in the kitchens of Jean-Georges and shipping them to various restaurants to be served, then we would have analogous examples. In that instance, I agree that it would make ethical sense for the restaurants to give credit to JGV. I should point out, in case it is not clear, that I am playing Devil's Advocate here a bit. I do agree that there is a level of imitation that, in certain situations, necessitates credit. But there is some question in my mind as to where those levels lie, and whether we are guilty of a bit of conceit in applying these ideas so vehemently to this particular style of cuisine because the chefs style themselves "conceptual artists" working in a culinary medium. Most people would agree that Daniel Boulud's db Bistro Moderne conceived (or brought to prominence) the idea of the "luxe haute hamburger." This, like the molten chocolate cake, has become a culinary meme, although not as strong as the cake meme. So. . . should Boulud receive credit, perhaps even a royalty, every time another restaurant serves a super-expensive hamburger with truffles and foie gras? At what degree of difference in execution does another restaurant's ethical obligation to Boulud cease? Or let's take it even further. . . what about the guy and the restaurant that came up with the widely imitated idea of a large mild onion cut on a special cutter, battered and deep fried so it comes out in the shape of a flower (e.g., the "Bloomin' Onion" at Outback Steakhouse)? Should every restaurant serving this preparation credit the originator? If not, then why not? Why is this idea any less worthy of such stringent ethical consideration than the dishes from Alinea, Moto, wd-50, etc? Could part of it be that the chefs at these restaurants are holding themselves up (or being held up by others, anyway) as "high culture creative artists" an their food as "conceptual art" while the guy who invented the fried onion thing is not? I should point out, by the way, that lowbrow pop musicians get paid royalties just the same as highbrow classical musicians, and in fact are much more likely to receive such compensation.