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Everything posted by slkinsey
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Where does sugo fit into this? I'm away from my Zingarelli right now, but I've always known ragù as a word meaning a thick stew-like sauce. Interesting information on this whols subject to be found here. The author seems to share my feeling that "gravy" comes from sugo. It is worthy of note that the "meat drippings and flour" sauce we call "gravy" hardly exists in Italy, and definitely not in the Southern regions from which came most of the immigrants to America. On ragù, I found this interesting:
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It is a matter of some dispute as to whether the wormwood or other herbal constituents absinthe have any substantial psychoactive effects over and above those of the (quite high) alcohol content. This is not to say, of course, that people who drink absinthe won't experience such effects, as the mind's ability to produce various intoxication effects based on expectation is well documented. There are four areas to consider concerning the intoxicating effects of absinthe: alcohol, herbs, wormwood and adulterants. Fortunately for us, we only have to be concerned with the first three today with respect to commercial products. Alcohol: Absinthe is quite high in alcohol -- often around 70%. As far as I know, people didn't start to attribute hallucinations and other psychological effects to absinthe until it started to be produced in cheap rotgut varieties for the masses. Most of the reported psychological effects of absinthe from history can probably be attributed to alcohol poisoning, especially when one considers all the non-ethyl alcohols and other contaminants (both deliberate and due to poor distilling methods) that were making their way into absinthe at this time. Herbs: It is a fact that some herbs have a psychotropic effect, and it is possible that the various herbal infusions in absinthe could cause or contribute to a characteristic intoxication. However, there are plenty of alcoholic beverages out there infused with just about every herb under the sun (Chartreuse and Benedictine come immsdiately to mind, as do all the various Italian amari . . . as does vermouth, for that matter). Understanding that, it's hard to believe that the herbs in absinthe would make you "high." Wormwood: The main supposed psychotropic constituent of wormwood is thujone. Thujone is a fairly powerful convulsant and is commonly supposed to be responsible for absinthe's hallucinogenic and other unique psychological and perceptual effects. Most commercial absinthes have a thujone content somewhere around 10 mg/l. This maximum level was mandated by law, although I think the maximum lavel may now be higher. One often hears claims that historical levels of thujone were along the lines of around 250 mg/l, but the latest scientific evidence seems to indicate that it was lower than 25 mg/l. In any event, the "no effect" level for thujone in animals has been found to be 12.5 mg/kg/day in scientific experiments. If we reduce that level by one hundred times to be extra safe, we get a "no effect" dose of 0.125 mg/kg/day (approximately 0.057 mg/lb/day) for humans. Working with this extremely conservative "no effect" dosage, a two hundred pound human would need 11.34 mg/day to feel anything at all. This means drinking around a liter of absinthe at 70% alcohol, and I think it's pretty clear that any effect the thujone might possibly have at that dose would be obscured by the effects of the alcohol. Adulterants: Common adulterants of the cheap stuff were things like antimony trichloride to provide the cloudy quality and cupric acetate for the green color. It is simply amazing to read about the stuff people used to dose alcoholic beverages with back in the day. In addition, as mentioned above, old rotgut absinthes probable contained toxic contaminant levels of non-ethyl alcohols due to poor distillation practices. To my thinking, it is most likely that the historical reported (and also overblown by the temperance movment) hallucinogenic and psychological, not to mention allegedly moral effects of absinthe were largely due to the alcohol content and adulterants/contaminants. Does this mean that the book is closed on absinthe now? Not really. It is somewhat possible, if unlikely, that there is some kind of herbal/wormwood synergy going on that has a mild psychotropic effect. Since we don't hear this about Chartreuse, etc. I think it's not likely, but it can't be ruled out. And, of course, one cannot discount the mind's own ability to produce such effects due to expectation. Note: The Fée Verte website, which has much more interesting reading, was a primary source for the above.
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It's an old-school American-Italian thing to call it "gravy." It should be mentioned, however, that Italian doesn't always differentiate between "sauce" and "gravy." There are two Italian words for sauce: salsa and sugo. Thus, tomato sauce might be called salsa di pomodoro but it might also be called sugo rosso (red sauce). Sugo di carne can mean gravy in the sense that it is commonly understood in English, but it might also mean "meat sauce." So, calling the typical long-simmered Italian-American tomato-and-meat sauce "gravy" isn't all that far from the mark.
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So you can't get it as a dinner app. Damn. Of course not! What do you think the lamb chops are for?
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How long do you plan to hold it? Probably about 5 hours? If I assemble it around 2 and serve it around 7? In that case, you should have no worries at all about anything. I thought you were thinking of making it more like 24 - 36 hours ahead of time. If it's only going to be 5 hours, I wouldn't even bother refrigerating it.
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Dude. You go to Peter Luger, and you have a burger? It is a serious work of discipline not to order a steak. But the burger is only available for lunch anyway, and I've not had much success at staying conscious through the end of the business day after I've packed away a porterhouse. Besides, sometimes you want to spend sixty dollars on lunch... sometimes you want to spend six.
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Very interesting. I have to admit I'm a little shocked not to see my favorite on the list: Peter Luger.
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Oh! You should totally be fine with respect to the balsamella component. I probably wouldn'y try this with fresh pasta lasagne al forno, but it should work fine with dry pasta. How long do you plan to hold it?
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I think there is a big difference between glutamate being a potential migrane trigger, which seems quite reasonable to me, and the existence of an "MSG syndrome" that only seems to happen at Chinese restaurants for 95% of those who report it. One difference between "MSG syndrome" and your lactose intolerance strawman is that lactose intolerance is a documented and understood phenomenon whose existence is not, as far as I know, disputed in the medical community. I am reminded, however, of when Steingarten referenced a study showing that only around 1/3 of claimed lactose intolerants actually tested positive for lactose intolerance, and that allmost all of the true lactose intolerants were able to consume as much as a glass of milk without experiencing any symptoms. So, I'm not saying that there is absolutely no such thing as a person who experiences adverse effects from glutamate. I just don't think it's nearly as widespread as it appears to be, and I think there is a large percentage of "false positives." In addition, I think there are be any number of other elements that could cause or contributing to the reported symptoms in Chinese restaurants and that it is only the fact that people associate Chinese food with MSG that causes so many to leap to the conclusion that they have "MSG syndrome." On the other hand, anyone who triggers a migraine after eating an ounce of aged Parmigiano-Reggiano -- and I have no problem believing that such people exist -- probably does have a sensitivity to glutamate.
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You can totally make it ahead of time. It will be more "pudding like" right out of the refrigerator, but you can just blop it on there and it will melt in the heat of the oven.
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Seven Weeks in Tibet: Part 1
slkinsey replied to a topic in Elsewhere in Asia/Pacific: Cooking & Baking
I've read comments here on eGullet and elsewhere that bamboo is too hard on knives but if it's only 16-percent harder, it seems that concern would be mute. I rather like that chopping block. ← I'm guessing, based on observation, that there are both different varieties of bamboo (that we all know) and that, as FG has said, different parts of the bamboo are used for different things. For example, you don't see exposed grain on scaffolding (as you do with the cutting board) because it would be too soft. Going on deductive reasoning, I'm guessing that the discussions about bamboo being too tough on knives are in reference to either a different variety or a different part of the bamboo--interior versus exterior. I have some pictures from Yangshuo of buildings with bamboo scaffolding and I’ll get one up later today. I may also have a photo of one of these cutting boards after being “broken in” -- and while a cleaver is the “knife” of choice in most Chinese kitchens I saw, the cutting boards had a healthy depression in the center from the use. ← Bamboo would be hard on knives when deployed in "cross grain" rather than "end grain" fashion in a cutting board. Indeed, most any wood will be bad for a knife's edge in "cross grain" orientation. My superficial examination of Ellen's bamboo cutting board suggests that it's harder than my maple end grain cutting boards, but still somewhat softer than the typical "cross grain" cutting board. Ellen's last remark may be a telling one. The Chinese cleaver is the typical cutting implement used with this style of cutting board, and the typical action a chopping one. This style of use may benefit from a harder cutting surface material. -
Sounds tasty, and who could resist something so old as to be called a "sangaree," I ask you?
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Actually, Calvados sidecars are mentioned, and ultimately brushed off by none other than King Cocktail Dale DeGroff himself: "The don't lend themselves to cocktails," he said. "They just come through too strongly." The same paragraph then goes on to assert that the Jack Rose calls for Calvados. Seems to me I've always thought the Jack Rose calls for Apple Jack. That's how I always make 'em, anyway. As far as I know, calvados, Cointreau and lemon juice was named the Royal Jubilee back in the day by none other than Harry Craddock. And, yea, also as far as I know, the Jack Rose is made with applejack. I don't know about using calvados as the sole base spirit in a cocktail, but the calvados boost in Audrey's Tantris Sidecar makes a world of difference without overpowering. Very cool article, though. I agree with the authors that some of the younger, less expensive calvados bottlings can actually be better and taste more strongly of apples.
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So... I purchased a copy of this book a few weeks ago and have read through it a few times. It's a good book and well-written for the most part. In essence, it features short descriptions of 100 bars, including a number of restaurant bars, along with a description and recipe for what the author feels is an outstanding cocktail from that bar. One good reason to buy the book is that it brings a lot of NYC bars to one's attention that might otherwise be overlooked. With a list of 100 bars, there are sure to be a few off the radar of even the most dedicated barhound. Featured are hotel bars like The King Cole Bar and Lounge at the St. Regis and Bemelmans Bar at the Carlyle, restaurant bars like Calle Ocho and Beacon and standalone places like Flatiron Lounge and Boxcar Lounge. Notwithstanding what is, in my opinion, the unfortunate omission of Angel's Share, wd-50 and Milk and Honey, Cocktails in New York is a nicely comprehensive survey of most of the cool places to go for a well-crafted drink in the City. The book is divided in to 8 sections: Proven Classics, New Standards, Cosmo Capital, Mixologist Made, Creative License, Secret Ingredients, House Spirits and Liquid Desserts. The Proven Classics section, as one might imagine, includes such cocktails as the Martini, Manhattan and Sidecar. Most any cocktail enthusiast will be familiar with all the cocktails in this section, so it is mostly interesting for the descriptions of bars like The Four Seasons bar, Old Town Bar & Grill, the bar at Patroon and others. My only quibble with this section is that it includes Campbell Apartment's Prohibition Punch, which due to its recent provenance hardly belongs alongside the true "proven classics" in this section. It was also disappointing to the purist to see the Monkey Bar's non-classic Manhattan made with Jack Daniel's Single Barrel Whiskey rather than bourbon or, preferably, rye. That said, one assumes that the author was (rightfully) obliged to write the recipes the way the bartenders mixed the drinks (more on this later). Next is the New Standards section. This features drinks like Suba's Spanish Manhattan (Maker’s Mark, oloroso sherry and Peychaud's bitters) Tribeca' Grill's Greenwich Fizz (gin, maraschino, lime juice and ginger ale) and Fifty Seven Fifty Seven Bar's Bigger Apple Martini. There are several great new drinks in this section. In particular, the aforementioned Spanish Manhattan and Greenwich Fizz caught my eye, as well as Schiller Liquor Bar's New York Sour (blended whiskey, lemon juice, simple syrup, red wine and a touch of orange juice) and Blue Ribbon's Pear Martini (Belle de Brillet, Absolut Citron and lime juice). I'm not quite sure why this section is called "New Standards" though. Several of the drinks, notably the Mojito, Rum Julep, Pisco Sour and Caipirinha, hardly strike me as "new" cocktails, and I would hesitate to call the others "standards" (with the possible exception of the "Dark and Stormy"). This is not to say that they aren't appealing drinks, however, just that their placement in this chapter seems odd to me. Strangely, in the section on City Hall's Rum Julep, the author writes: ". . . this isn't a 'proper' Julep in the Kentucky Derby sense -- where bourbon is mandatory . . ." As far as I know, mint juleps have been made with bourbon, rum, applejack, brandy, rye and even gin since the very beginning. Other than the use of a flavored rum (Bacardi Limón), the version presented seems relatively traditional. Next is the chapter called "Cosmo Capital." As one might imagine, it consists of seven variations on the Cosmopolitan. Interestingly, the Cosmo is the only post-Prohibition cocktail that so far seems like a "new standard" with staying power. Following is a very interesting chapter entitled "Mixologist Made." All cocktails are "mixologist made" when it comes down to it, but I suppose this title is an indication that the drinks were conceived by noteworthy figures in today's NYC cocktail world. Featured are Audrey Saunders' Tantris Sidecar at Bemelmans Bar, Julie Reiner's Cherry Smash from Flatiron Lounge and Jerri Banks's Indian Rose at Taj. among several other interesting concoctions. A very interesting look at what some of the "new old school" are doing in NYC. The Creative License chapter is another one where I'm not quite sure about the organizing principle. Nevertheless, there are some very interesting drinks here. The Spring Fling from Mark's Bar (silver tequila, triple sec, orange juice and pineapple juice on the rocks) sounds like a winner to me, as do Beacon's Kentucky Pear (Jim Beam Black, Poire William, simple syrup, lemon juice and splash of cranberry on the rocks) and Craftbar's Basil-Mint Mojito. I'm even tempted to try Cherry's Wet Water Martini (Beefeater Wet, Chambord and Power-C Vitamin Water) despite the "club kid" last ingredient. Moving on we reach the chapter on "Secret Ingredients," featuring drinks with unusual or unsuspected constituents. Among the standouts for me were Town's Convent in Chile (kumquats, brown sugar, lime juice, Charbay Blood Orange vodka and splashes of grapefruit and cranberry), Biltmore Room's Way of the Dragon (Hangar One Mandarin Blossom, kalamansi lime juice, honey, mint leaves, sour mix and cayenne pepper) and Babbo's Cin-Cyn (Junipero gin, Cinzano sweet vermouth, Cynar, orange bitters and a splash of orange juice). Coming into the home stretch is a chapter on House Spirits with twelve house-branded cocktails from various watering holes, and the final chapter on Liquid Desserts which features sweet cocktails. Some drinks that caught my eye were Stone Rose’s eponymous cocktail (Woodford Reserve bourbon, Grand Mariner, cranberry juice and a touch of sour mix and simple syrup) and First’s Apple Core (apple vodka, Berentzen Apfelkorn apple schnapps, lemon juice, a splash of cider and a top of apple foam). If I have one criticism of Cocktails in New York it is that I didn’t find quite as many cocktail recipes that appealed to me as I had hoped I might. This is undoubtedly a reflection of what people are making rather than any fault of the author. The book opens with a nice forward by Tony Abou-Ganim, who writes: “A cocktail should, first and foremost, focus on the base spirit.” This accords one hundred percent with my own preference when it comes to cocktails. Unfortunately for me, cocktails like Cibar’s Suffering Bastard, which contains Captain Morgan’s spiced rum, Malibu rum, Myers rum, high proof rum, pineapple juice, orange juice and cranberry juice were not all that uncommon. This is, needless to say, not a cocktail that focuses on the base spirit. Another disappointment for me was that around forty percent of the cocktails had a vodka base and vodka is, I think, the least preferred liquor upon which to found a cocktail. Some of the vodka cocktails were interesting, but it’s hard for me to get excited about something like Jean-George’s Frostbite, which is simply vodka mixed with icewine. On the other hand, Cocktails in New York is really only half about the cocktail recipes anyway, so there was still plenty there to hold my interest. All in all, this is a very nice book for those seeking new spots of interest in NYC’s cocktail scene. Not for nothing is New York an epicenter of the new cocktail renaissance. But beyond that, Cocktails in New York should appeal to most any home cocktail enthusiast with well written, interesting vignettes and a wide variety of recipes. The various indices at the back of the book are, as one would expect, informative and easy to reference. Anthony Giglio is an eGullet Society member, and I’d love to hear his thoughts. NB. Although I provided some ingredient lists for various cocktails, I deliberately did not post any formulae from the book. You gotta buy the book for those.
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At this point, I think we've sufficiently touched on the issue of Scalini Fedeli posting the Zagat review from their NJ restaurant in the NYC location, which seems to have happened more than a few years ago anyway. So let's move on.
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Interesting. Dave's book credits the Cairo hotel as well, but gives the bourbon/gin version.
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I'll go you one further and suggest that it is pronounced: ma-ra-SKI-no (with a "ra" rather than a "ri" on the second syllable). The more common term in an Italian bar would be latte macchiato, which means "stained milk" -- the idea being that the milk is "stained" by adding a tiny bit of coffee. There is also caffè macchiato, or "stained coffee" in which the coffee is "stained" with a tiny bit of milk. Somehow in American Starbucks-speak, "macchiato" has come to mean a large mostly milk drink with a little coffee and various syrups added, and "latte" has come to mean "a gigantic latte macchiato." Starbucks has also promulgated the misconception that macchiato means "marked" instead of "stained" (in fact, "marked" is probably best translated as segnato).
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jgould, I wouldn't have put in "IMO" and those other qualifiers you cite had I not meant to express something that is my opinion as it relates to me. If you don't want to address my points as to slavishly reproducing in NYC a French bistro as it is in France, that's your own call. But it's not as interesting as not taking offense and continuing the conversation.
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Hmmm... interesting list, jgould. Especially interesting that you call for a number of what I would call "faux French" affectations (viz. accents, music, curtains, etc.). To my way of thinking, these specifications call more for a "Disneyland bistro" approach, trying to duplicate the real thing in a foreign environment. One can only truly have a French bistro in France, of course. A New York French bistro should IMO naturally reflect the fact that it is in New York. Anything else is, to me, an artificial "bistroland." To my mind, if a restaurant is serving classic French bistro fare in a setting that is appropriately evocative of the important elements that define the French model, without slavishly imitating it but rather translating those elements into the NYC milieu... this is the kind of place I'm looking for.
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Yep. This is entirely possible. I wonder what the economics are with respect to rye and corn -- which one is less expensive. Interesting note: my mother and I were talking recently about booze, and she mentioned an interesting piece of data that she had uncovered doing research for a class she's teaching. Back before Prohibition (most likely we're talking about data from the late 19th century) when this country was producing an overabundance of corn, most of the surplus was eventually turned into corn whiskey. American adults drank something like 1.5 quarts of corn whiskey a day on average! Then Prohibition happened. After Prohibition and the War had passed, eventually we found ourselves in a situation where once again we were producing an overabundance of corn. Only this time, instead of turning the surplus corn into whiskey, we've taken to turning it into high fructose corn syrup. Personally, I think we were better off the other way around.
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Do the ones in the Savoy cocktail book count? Some are numbered or otherwise differentiated, such as Rose (English) and Rose (French Style No. 1) and some just have the same name such as the two Queen Elizabeth cocktails which I first noticed when I just opened the book, but none of the same incredients. Actually, the French versions of Rose cocktails are not that different but at least the Corpse Revievers are :) I think some of this may have to do with the fact that a corpse reviver at that time wasn't considered a name for a specific cocktail, rather it was considered the name of an separate class of drink. This is to say that a corpse reviver was not a a cocktail (or a flip, sling, etc.), it was a corpse reviver. Viewed this way, it is not surprising that we have many different corpse reviver recipes just as we have many different flip, sling, toddy, etc. recipes. What makes corpse revivers different is that they don't seem to have been individually named like the others (e.g., Boston flip, rum flip, etc.). On the other hand, to return to my original example, I don't think "suffering bastard" is an old-school drink classification.
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Could be five spice powder, could be Sichuan peppercorns, could be organisms growing on/in improperly stored ingredients, could be a certain kind of pepper, could be the oil they're using, etc.
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I was recently reading through Anthony Giglio's Cocktails in New York, an interesting book on which I shall have more to say anon. Therein I read a recipe for a "Suffering Bastard" that included four kinds of rum, pineapple juice, orange juice and cranberry juice served up in a cocktail glass. Notwithstanding the fact that this sort of concoction is not my cup of (Long Island iced?) tea, this struck me as a very strange recipe for a Suffering Bastard. The recipe with which I am most familiar is a tall drink made with bourbon, gin, lime juice, bitters and ginger ale. This is the recipe found in Dave's Esquire Drinks, and other places. But then I decided to check Dale DeGroff's The Craft of the Cocktail. Dale says it's a "Mai Tai with orange juice" and calls for two kinds of rum, orange curaçao, oregat, orange juice and lime juice served in a tall glass with ice. What gives? Any other examples of radically different cocktails with the same name?
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See? That's what I'm saying. I would have a hard time making any justification for including Canadian blended whiskey in my liquor cabinet.
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The general concensus (which is not without vehement detractors) seems to be that there "MSG allergy" and "MSG syndrome" don't really exist -- or at least don't exist for the vast, vast majority of the population. It is worthy of note that many foods, such as aged parmigiano-reggiano, contain plenty of glutamate. One also wonders why the entire nation of China isn't awash with headaches and other symptoms associated with MSG in Western countries. I suppose it is possible that there is some adulterant or impurity in certain brands of MSG used by Chinese restaurants that causes these symptoms. It is also possible that there are some other substances used in Chinese cookery that causes these symptoms. And it's possible that it's mostly psychosomatic.