slkinsey

Right. I understand that the local UK law may be different from the IOOC specification. What that suggests to me is that olive oil produced in a nonmember country (such as the US) could be sold in the UK as "extra virgin" even if it did not meet the IOOC specification. However, if the olive oil comes from an IOOC member country, I think this is rather less likely. The point of the IOOC regulations is that the member countries are voluntarily saying that they are going to adhere to those specifications. I'm not sure what kind of legal teeth these specifications have in other countries, but since olive oil is not produced in the UK it stands to reason that they don't need to legislate any strict labeling standards. Oils imported from member countries should conform to the IOOC standards, and I guess they don't care whether oils imported from nonmember countries conform to those standards are not. According to my reading of the IOOC standards, if an olive oil is labeled "Tuscan extra virgin olive oil" then it is an indication of source, and is therefore only allowed if the oil was produced, packed and originating exclusively in Tuscany. I'm not sure whether this would apply to an "Italian extra virgin olive oil." That seems to indicare source as well. I think if you take a look, though, you'll see that most dodgy olive oils will say something more like "imported from Italy" or similar. This is indicating the "country of origin" rather than the "source" according to the IOOC standards.

The designation "extra virgin" has no official meaning according to United States law. I should also point out that the terms "first pressing" and "cold pressed" and all that have no real meaning either. This is because there is no way to verify whether these things are true. What can be verified is the amount of oleic acid present in the oil. The International Olive Oil Council, which is the multinational body governing labeling of olive oil, says that "olive oil" must be obtained only from the fruit of the olive tree (Olea europaea); "virgin olive oil" must be extracted from said fruit exclusively by mechanical means, and must have a free acidity of not more than two grams of oleic acid per hundred grams; and "extra virgin olive oil" must have a free acidity of not more than 0.8 grams of oleic acid per hundred grams. According to the IOOC, olive oil "containers intended for direct sale to consumers" must include, among other things: the name of the product; the designation of olive oil quality (extra virgin, etc.); and the country of origin, with this interesting caveat: "When the product undergoes substantial processing in a second country, the country in which such processing is carried out shall be considered as the country of origin for labelling purposes." It may only include an indication of source (country, region or locality) or appelation (where such exists) only when allowed to do so by the country of origin and "when such virgin olive oils have been produced, packed and originate exclusively in the country, region or locality mentioned." Member countries of the IOOC include Algeria, Croatia, the EU, Egypt, Iran, Israel, Jordan, Lebanon, Lybia, Morocco, Serbia & Montenegro, Syria and Tunisia. Unfortunately, the United States does not seem to be a member. What this suggests to me, however, is that olive oil from one of these countries that is labeled "extra virgin olive oil" has a very high likelihood of conforming with the IOOC standards. I don't get the impression that the IOOC allows its member countries to slap any old designation of quality on a bottle of oilve oil so long as it is intended for sale in a non-member country. Some manufacturers will try to cheat, of course, and all bets are off with respect to olive oil produced in nonmember countries. The long and short of this is that, if you buy a bottle of "Tuscan extra virgin olive oil," you should be getting just that.

I've had lots of good luck with brining pork shoulder, although normally for conventional slow cooking rather than smoking (I live in NYC). How (in)direct is your heat going to be? Unless you have an on-the-side smoke box, I would be cautious about using something with a lot of sugar like Coca-Cola. I'd be concerned that the sugars would burn long before you were ready to take that sucker off the heat. One thing you can always do is make tea by boiling various herbs and other flavorings (say, sage, thyme, rosemary and garlic) and then using the cooled "broth" as the liquid portion of your brine. Not sure how well that would stand up to smoke, but there's only one way to find out. Another idea would be doing a citrus brine. Use lime juice and orange juice (plus some water, if you like) as the liquid component of your brine.

I'm telling you, for fig flavor this stuff is the shizznit.

For most drinks, I think some effort should be made to ensure that imbibers don't have to strain anything through their teeth. The only time I want any plant matter of that size floating around in my cocktail is when it is something like citrus cells in a country-style muddled drink like a caipirinha. You shouldn't have to pick pieces of mint out of your teeth when you drink a Mojito, and if this is a problem then it is not a well-constructed drink. There are several easy ways to avoid this problem: First, the mint leaves don't have to be (and shouldn't be) muddled so hard that they're crushed into straw-clogging, tooth-sticking shreds. Second, after the mint is muddled and allowed to infuse into the liquor for some period of time, the drink can be strained into a glass and garnished with fresh mint after the ice is added in a way that is unlikely to offend (I like sliding a few fresh mint leaves down between the ice and the side of the glass, but a sprig works well too). Third, if one feels that it is absolutely necessary to keep the lightly muddled mint in the glass, add the ice on top of the mint and do not stir up the drink once the ice is added. This will keep the muddled mint on the bottom of the glass, and fresh whole mint leaves can be used as an additional garnish. Fourth, one could shake the drink hard with ice for a few beats and then strain into the glass. This will result in a few inoffensively decorative mint flecks finding their way into the body of the drink, which can be further garnished with fresh mint. If a Mojito has shreds of muddled mint floating around in the body of the drink, clogging the straw and getting caught in your teeth when you sip from the glass... I say it's not a well'made drink. But, then again, I can't stand pulpy orange juice either.

Were I in your shoes, I'd be using the fig-infused simple syrup on ice cream.

Yea, I'm with Christopher in not being too excited about vodka. On the other hand, it can be useful for times when you really want to taste the essence of the flavoring (fig syrup, in this case) precisely because it doesn't bring anything to the table but dilution of flavor and alcoholic bite. This might be an issue worth considering with respect to Linda's fig syrup, because the fig flavor might not be all that strong. It's very possible that it would be entirely obscured were it mixed with something like Rittenhouse bonded rye or even a soft gin. It's sometimes a difficult reality that the drink is too sweet by the time you've added enough of your sweet modifier that it can be discerned in the mix. Most good modifiers for cocktails are quite strongly flavored, and it is partly this property that makes them useful modifiers. It doesn't take very much oregat syrup or Apry, for example, to make its presence felt alongside a flavorful base spirit. I have some Calabrian fig syrup that might work well in a cocktail, but it is thick, black and almost molasses-like, with a flavor that's much more concentrated than what I imagine Linda's to be (her's sounds more like what I might call "fig-infused simple syrup"). There's a reason I have been using the word "modifier" above. The idea of using, for example, a touch ot Calabrian fig syrup together with rye whiskey in making a cocktail that tastes of "rye with a little fig flavor" is one thing (actually, that might make an interesting Old Fashioned variation). The fig syrup in this case is modifying and enhancing the flavor of the rye, and the cocktail isn't really all about the fig syrup. Really, I'm not so sure I'd be all that excited about a cocktail that's designed to feature fig syrup as the main flavor. It's like making a chicken dish that's all about the parsley.

In general, you do not want a steel with any "cut" at all. Those steels are designed to be used with soft steel butcher knives that are roughly steeled many times a day and will wear out in fairly fast order. For a good home kitchen knife, you want either a smooth steel or a very fine grit ceramic steel. The best place to buy is HandAmerican. Get their ceramic and polished steel rods in the 14 inch length. You can even get a glass rod from HandAmerican.

You can get Saba in NYC supermarkets. I don't know about middle America, though.

We should make sure we all understand (although I think we all do) that we're talking about the popularization of aceto balsamico industriale and not the super-expensive traditional stuff, which is still largely unknown in the English-speaking world. I think Steven makes a good observation in pointing out that the largest part of its popularity is due to the fact that it is sweet. If we agree that balsamic vinegar's rise in popularity began in the 80s and reached critical mass in the 90s, it is interesting to consider that this coincides with the greatly increased consumption of salad.

Per my cross-posted info above from the Consortio it seems likely to me that the special Aceto di Modena was always made with fermented concentrated grape must -- or certainly dating to much earlier than 1860 -- but that some makers also included wine in making a "second quality" product. Wikipedia says that balsamic vinegar was popularized in the US and UK during the 1980s through the writing of Marcella Hazan. I'm not sure what the basis is for that assertion (especially since her seminal books were written in 1973 and 1978), but I do think there is something to that argument worth considering since I think it is reasonable to regard Hazan as the central figure who introduced and popularized real, traditional Italian cookery in the English-speaking world. It would also make sense, per your "aceto balsamico" versus "balsamic vinegar" idea, that manufacturers and/or importers would have started anglicizing the labling when they started viewing the product as one that would be marketed directly to Americans as opposed to importing the Italian products.

Some interesting facts from the Consortio Aceto Balsamico di Modena: It turns out that "balsamico" as part of the name is of relatively recent coinage, being found for the first time in the ducal inventories of 1747 at the Este Palace in Modena. In 1839, one Conte Giorgio Gallesio made a brief study of balsamico production in Modena, and his documents are among the first technical treatises on the subject. Therein, he notes the difference between two categories made, that exclusively made from fermented must (described as "exquisite") and that made from fermented must with the addition of wine (described as "also excellent"). I think it's somewhat likely that there were historically different grades and levels of balsamico produced, some with the addition of wine and some exclusively from must. It also seems likely that the balsamico produced exclusively from must would be considered to have the highest quality and would be the most expensive. Perhaps this later consolidated on the highest quality, and therefore came over time to mean "must only." Documents from the end of the 19th Century refer to products made from must and wine vinegar as well as shortcut methods involving the use of spices. Perhaps the first "industriale?"

Luciano was already a huge star in the 1970s (he made his Italian debut in 1961 and made a huge splash in the US singing La fille du régiment with the (in)famous "nine high Cs" aria in 1971). So I think we can call that myth busted. I'm not sure I quite get this, although it's very possible that I'm just too dense to see what you're getting at. As far as I know, the traditional Italian product has always been called aceto balsamico (aceto meaning "vinegar" in Italian). Certainly it's been called that a lot longer than it has been popular outside of Italy. There is also some question in my mind about your suggestion that aceto balsamico might not qualify as "vinegar" because it is not made from wine. If wine can be defined as fermented grape juice, wouldn't this apply to the raw material of aceto balsamico, which is fermented 50% reduced grape juice? I gather that your suggestion that only acetic-acidified wine technically qualifies as "vinegar" is due to the original French meaning of vin aigre (sour wine)? I suppose this might make some sense in the French-speaking world, but am not so sure it makes sense with respect to the translation of aceto into our English word "vinegar." Interestingly (and as you probably know) the Italian word aceto, rather than being a compound word like the French vinaigre comes from the Latin vinum acetum, also meaning "sour wine" but only carrying over the "sour" part of the word and leaving the "wine" part behind. I guess a direct translation of aceto balsamico might be "balsamic/restorative sour."

Look at the examples and compare to your own... Did you change the distinctive prose in the instructions to your own words? If yes, then it is not a copyright violation. Did you attribute the inspiration? If yes, then it is not plagiarism. It should be pointed out with respect to plagiarism that the standards and expectations are different depending on the field. Academics and scientists are generally very strict about attributions. If someone helped you even by proofreading your paper, you are often expected to indicate that in a footnote. So, for example, if you were writing an academic paper about a recipe for braised duck that was inspired by a dish you had at ADNY, you would be expected to cite Alain Ducasse in your references even though the dish had evolved far beyond the original inspiration. Similarly, if you had developed this dish in your restaurant with the assistance of your sous chef and other personnel, they would expect to be listed as authors on the paper (it would be "DePaula, et al."). I could go on in this vein, but suffice it to say that the realm of recipe attribution is considerably less strict in this area. All this is to say that, if a recipe you have developed was originally inspired by an M. Herme recipe but has since evolved to a point that it is no longer clearly a derivative work, I don't see that you have any ethical obligation to give attribution to M. Herme. It is not plagiarism, because you are not passing someone's work off as your own, and at some level everything is inspired by something. Schubert didn't have an ethical obligation to attribute Die Forelle by writing, "piano part inspired by the burbling brook near Steyr."

I think there is a distinction between to be made between copyright law and what makes a recipe "yours." First, let's talk about copyright law. You can't copyright an idea, so the ingredient list and the actual process of making a dish are not copyrightable. Grub is right: you don't need to change a single ingredient. This is because copyright law was not designed to protect that kind of intellectual property. What you can copyright are your specific words, distinctive prose, characteristic descriptions, etc. -- in other words, your writing, not the idea. If you want intellectual property protection for the actual process of making a recipe, you must apply for a patent for "System and Method for Making Braised Duck Legs with Green Olives" or whatever. In this case, you would be claiming that your dish is an "invention." While the patent system is really set up for gizmo-type inventions, it is possible to patent a process for making something (like a better, cheaper or more efficient way to synthesize a chemical). Um... good luck with that. The long and short of this is that, as long as someone rewrites the process part of a recipe in their own words, recipes have no intellectual property protection under the law. So... that's the law. What about ethics? That's a different story. By and large, I think most of us would agree that if you copy someone else's recipe, even if you change the prose to an extent that you are not subject to copyright law, it's still that person's recipe. The ethical thing to do is give that person some credit. Of course, there does come a point where the recipe has changed enough that it really becomes your recipe rather than the original person's recipe. It's up to you to decide how much the recipe has to change before it becomes entirely yours. Some of this may depend on the nature of the original recipe. For example, last night I had a wonderful dish based on a Vongerichten recipe. It was halibut poached in fennel juice with braised fennel and fennel seeds. Now, my friend could change Vongerichten's recipe around a bit (and has), but it's hard to imagine that "halibut with three fennels" could change so radically that it wouldn't still be clearly derivative of Vongerichten's, because it's a fairly unique idea. To make another example, I have been making a dish of "turkey two ways" for Thanksgiving every year, where I braise the leg meat in red wine and port and cook the breasts separately to temperature. The inspiration for that idea came from a recipe by Eric Ripert that was printed in the NY Times Magazine, but by now my recipe has diverged so radically from his that I feel comfortable claiming it as my own. I don't hesitate to say where the inspiration came from, and if I were writing a cookbook I would probably make some mention of that in the description of the dish. But I don't feel it is absolutely necessary to say "adapted from" or "inspired by" Eric Ripert every time I mention it. Other people in the same situation may feel differently. It's an ethical decision everyone must make for themselves.

Sounds about right to me.

Looking at what seems to be the oldest recipe on cocktailDB, I see that it called for gin, egg white, cream, lemon juice, sugar and grenadine (the versions with strawberry are listed as "variations"). Could it be that cream and egg white together with grenadine create a peach-blush color? Maybe that's the origin of the name? I wonder what makes something a "blow fizz." Googling for "blow fizz" only brings up the Apple Blow Fizz and the Peach Blow Fizz, with the former substantially more commonly found.

I think it works best if you steam. Boiling the corned beef almost always results in dry meat. It does take a bit longer to cook the meat that way, however. Since this is a work day I don't really have time to cook my corned beef by traditional stovetop methods, and have had to resort to alternative techniques. So I'm cooking the corned beef sous vide for around 9 hours (which can happen while I'm out of the house) and will finish it this evening by steaming it for an hour or so above the potatoes, carrots and cabbage.

I didn't. I pan-fried them to get the crust, then finished them in the oven. They are so thick that I just stood them up on the end bones in the pan and roasted them to temperature. There was no need to flip them.

Oppenheimer Prime Meats on Broadway and 98th. Great full service butcher. When you say you want porterhouse steaks, they bring out a whole prime short loin and you talk about how you want to cut them. These were each over three inches thick.

Since corned beef is by definition beef that has been pickled in brine (a saturated salt/water solution), I'm not sure how one could make a low-salt version that would be particurlaly corned beef-like.

HACCP article on Wikipedia.

I think it's part of Alton Brown's schtick to use "alternative" non-traditional lowbrow equipment. For example, in one episode he advocates wrapping meat and liquid in a tinfoil envelope and "braising" it in the oven instead of using a proper braising vessel on the stovetop.

I think champagne cocktails are good for a romantic feel. If you like Mojitos, you will love Audrey's Old Cuban, which is a luxe version of a Mojito with aged rum and champagne. The Old Cuban 1.5 oz : Aged Cuban-style rum (Bacardi 8 Year suggested) 1.0 oz : simple syrup (1:1 sugar-to-water by volume) 0.75 oz : fresh lime juice 6-8 : mint leaves 2 dashes : Angostura bitters 2-3 oz : good champagne (chilled) Muddle mint with lime juice and simple syrup. Add bitters, rum and ice. Shake well and strain into chilled cocktail glass. Top with chilled champagne. The little flecks of mint that make it past the strainer are a fun garnish for the drink, but don't go overboard on the muddling or you'll be picking mint out of your teeth. For other ideas along these lines, there is a whole thread on Cocktails with Champagne.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words... so here are a few thousand words on my idea of man food: