slkinsey

Dude... I didn't even know there was actually an original original Ray's. And, of course, I was too busy dealing with the onset of puberty in the late 70s to pay much attention to pizza. I assume the archetypal Ray's no longer exists? Or does it?

So... yesterday the NY Pizza crew surveyed the once-mighty Lombardi's Pizzeria Napolitana, a legendary restaurant which is usually cited as the first pizzeria in America. Lobmardi's has often been rated the "best pizzeria in NYC" by Zagat's and other such guides, but there have been rumors of serious slippage. We were there to find out... Here's the place. Not the original location, but definitely some character there. The oven. The tilework was moved over from the original location. A closer look at the oven. Hmm... a cheery red glow, to be sure, but I wasn't sweating when I took this picture, and they actually had some seating in the oven room. Could this be a bad sign of things to come? Our first order was the "reference standard" -- a pizza margherita. JoesephB had earlier done a "test run" at Lombardi's and advised us that we should ask them to go easy on the sauce and cheese. Our first impression was "whoa... this is 'light on the sauce and cheese?' It's a good thing we didn't order one 'regular.'" Although this was still a little heavy on the toppings, the proof would be in the crust. Here's a nice shot of the crust. Looks pretty good, right? We were thrilled. Once again, advance notice of ordering quirks would yield a superior pizza experience. If it wasn't quite as light as Pasty's crust or quite as flavorful as Grimaldi's, if it didn't have quite as much char as we might have liked... this could be mostly forgiven. It was still an excellent crust with a superb crackle. And, as Joe demonstrates here, it stood up nicely to the "fold test" -- better than anyplace we had previously visited, actually. Still... the pizza, while very good, lacked a certain something. The sauce was too liberally applied, and not all that interesting. And they used fresh mozzarella, which didn't work as well here as it did at Patsy's because the blandness of the cheese didn't have much to play against. Mainly, though, the crust just wasn't as interesting. This is unfortunate, because I tend to agree with Peter Reinhart, who says in American Pie: My Search for the Perfect Pizza, ". . . crust is at least 80 percent of the pizza experience and is worth five times more than the toppings when it comes to total satisfaction." This is borne out right here on eGullet, where we have a large number of threads about pizza crusts as opposed to a relatively small number on pizza toppings. One thing we noted was that the "oven spring" didn't seem to be as great here. Take a look at this slice: See how dense the crust seems to be up at the thick part? This is very different from the light airy interior we got at Grimaldi's (this is discussed at some length upthread, starting here. Below is a direct comparison of Grimaldi's and Lombardi's that demonstrates the difference in oven spring. Look at how much lighter the Grimaldi's example is! This open, airy interior was what we were missing in Lombardi's crust. This may seem like a minor difference, but consider this: five of us couldn't finish two large and one small pizza between us whereas at Patsy's we made it through one large pizza for every person in attendance, plus a large salad. Anyway... although it was clear that Lombardi's wouldn't win top honors, we were all suitably impressed with the crust. Then came the sausage pizza: This was, again, "light on the sauce and cheese" but, unfortunately, the crust just didn't seem able to support the small addition in toppings. It's amazing to me how many American pizzerie make this simple mistake. One of the most important steps in making a superior pizza is to use less toppings, which you think would be better for the owners since it would lower the food cost. But, alas, the crust was now entirely pedestrian. Just look at this sad picture... not a spot of char... just a uniform insipid tan, really. No wonder Pan is hiding his face behind the slice. It's so you couldn't see the tears in his eyes. The last pizza up was the "famous" clam pie. Even Lombardi's detractors seem to agree that this is the one outstanding product left at Lombardi's. Well, my friends, not any more. They clearly use canned or frozen chowder clams, and so much garlic that any flavor in the chewy bits of sea-gristle was entirely obscured. Not only that, but somehow they still managed to pile on too many toppings, which is a real feat considering that this pizza didn't have any sauce or cheese. Even though we asked for the pizza to be coolked a little longer, which I think they did actually do (one corner of the pizza was nicely charred), the crust still didn't approach the level achieved on the first pizza. I wonder if Lombardi's suffers from the same heat loss problems due to volume as Grimaldi's. The joint was packed, and it does seem odd that the quality dropped off so much between the first pizza and those which followed. I'd be interested to visit the place some weekday afternoon for lunch, when it's not so crowded, the oven is hopefully hotter and the pizzaioli have more attention to give each pizza. The service was excellent, by the way. Despite the über-busy afternoon, our waiter was attentive and didn't mind that we ordered our pizza consecutively rather than simultaneously. The hostess was extremely pulchritudinous, and had saved a table for our party right next to the open door in the second section of the restaurant. I'll reserve final judgment until I am able to make a visit during what might be more optimal circumstances. But, for now, I think it's one of those places you go to for the experience more than the pizza.

The gelato at Ciao Bella, while not at the pinacle achieved by maybe one or two other places in the city, is definitely high quality and better than 98% of what is served around the City. One fun thing about Ciao Bella is that they are less bound by tradition than some of the other places. For example, I had "malted milk ball" gelato, which consisted of malt-flavored gelato studded with little malted milk balls. It was fun. I'm not suggesting that Ciao Bella's product would be considered top notch in Sicily, or even compared to Il Laboratorio del Gelato. But they make a quality product, they have several locations, and it's a good place to stop by for a gelato on a warm afternoon.

From a purely chemical standpoint, I don't see how it would lose any caffeine. The taste difference is probably due to the fact that freshly-brewed esppresso is chick full of volatile flavor and aroma compounds. "Volatile" in this case means "don't last for long, so drink it quickly before they go away."

My first thought is that there is only so "nice" a nonstick pan can be. Untimately, they're never going to be all that nice compared to a piece of quality cookware built to last. And all nonstick has a finite lifetime, since the coating will eventually wear off/out. I'll tell you what, though... I like the thickness of the aluminum, nothing would make me spend >100 bucks on an eleven inch nonstick frypan with plastic handles.

I used a regular steel-wool pad, and didn't scrub very hard. There was just one little patch that needed a bit of extra attention. That patch is now silvery. There are no sharp demarcations between the silver color and the copper. There is no indentation. I don't have a digital camera, so I can't provide a picture. It's not the stainless, then. Perhaps it's from the steel scrubbing pad? Try scrubbing the pan all over with Bar Keeper's Friend and a Scotch Brite pad.

I see I've been falling down on the job and letting some questions pile up. Sorry about that. So... Lorea, the main reason is that the handles on heavy copper cookware must be solid in order to properly balance the pan. The "stay-cool" handles you're talking about are thin strips of metal bent into a shape. Not only would these handles be insufficiently heavy to balance the pans, which would make them awkward to pick up and move around, but it's unlikely that a thin metal tube or "V-handle" would be able to withstand the repeated stress put on it when the pans were lifted by the handle. Eventually the handle would start to bend. Y0ou have to keep in mind that a heavy copper pan is a lot, well... heavier than the aluminum-based pans from most other major cookware manufacturers. As for making solid metal handles of stainless steel as opposed to iron, there are two good reasons to do this. First, as you point out, stainless steel is nonreactive and won't rust. Second, stainless steel has crappy thermal properties and therefore it will take longer for the handle to heat up. On the other hand, the solid handle on an eleven inch saute pan takes a lot of metal. Stainless steel is signifciantly more expensive to use than iron. As it turns out, at lease one manufacturer does produce copper cookware with stainless steel handles. As detailed upthread, Mauviel has a 2.0 mm stainless lines copper line with stainless handles. However, this line is actually more expensive than the 2.5 mm stainless lined copper line. An easy way to figure out the cost of the stainless handle is to compare the 2.0 mm stainless handle line with the 2.0 iron handle line, since the body of the pan is the same. A 2.0 mm eleven inch frypan with a stainless handle has a full retail price of $240 and a typical sale price of $192. The same frypan with an iron handle has a full retail price of $180 and a typical sale price of $148. A 44 to 60 dollar difference just for the metal used in the handle! In my book, that's "prohibitively expensive." Depends on how they're used, but yea, they'll heat up. I've never experienced any handle that wouldn't heat up when the pan is used over high heat for a sufficiently long period of time. The thing to consider here is that these handles are designed for professional use (in/out of oven/salamander, etc.), and I'd never touch the handle of any pan in a professional kitchen without using a towel. Um... maybe? I don't know, as I wipe down all my cookware when I finish cleaning it. As mentioned upthread, the thing to do is "season" the handle with a little oil. I've never been worried.

Admin: I split off the soft shell cooking discussion to a thread in the cooking forum

I don't think it confuses the issue to compare one kind of reviewing to another similar kind. Both music and food (along with the graphic arts and other performing arts) are fields in which there are a relatively small number of experts and a large majority of consumers who "know what they like." One thing that such a comparison points out is that some people don't think restaurant reviewing is as "important" as opera (etc.) reviewing. That's neither here nor there, but the comparison does force one to come out on one side or another of that issue.

About the only difference I can see is that Bruni has done some food writing, albeit only as a sidelight, but at least (arguably) enough to demonstrate an aptitude for the subject. Had Bruni written some opera articles and demonstrated aptitude for that subject, his appointment as an opera critic would be acceptable to me. Not to me, it wouldn't. Not unless he had demonstrated significant aptitude for the subject. Have Bruni's writings demonstrated such aptitude with respect to restaurant reviewing? I'm not quite sure what point you're arguing here. This would seem to argue against a populist, learn-on-the-job take on restaurant reviewing. After all, you're saying that the restaurant review has a much larger impact on a restaurant than an opera critic's review has on an opera company. Doesn't that imply that an incoming restaurant critic should have more demonstrable knowledge and reviewing experience in his/her respective field than an incoming opera critic? That said, while you may be correct with respect to opera companies like the Metropolitan, which schedule seasons and artists years in advance and do limited runs of many different operatic works, it is a fact of the arts business that a bad review can have a significant impact on the survival of music theater productions (most of which are designed to run in perpetuity so long as people pay to see them).

Looking at this a different way: Bruni is clearly an interesting and intelligent writer who has something to say. He has also just spent a while as the NY Times bureau chief in Italy, the country which just happens to be the birthplace of opera and still a central country in the operatic world. He presumably goes to the opera every now and again... may even be a subsriber at the opera in Rome. BUT, I'd be pretty upset and disappointed if the Times brought him to NYC to be the top critic for opera. How is this different?

Right. My understanding is that umami is the word coined by Kikunae Ikeda to describe the flavor of glutamic acid. So it is indeed the "flavor" of MSG. Has anyone tried adding a shake of Ac'cent to a cocktail?

There is a little confusion about this. Durum is a strain of wheat. Semolina is a grind of wheat. However, the twu names have become interchangeable to a certain extent. Semolina, strictly speaking, is a coarse, gritty milling of wheat (usually durum). It is not, in my opinion, particularly useful for pizza dough other than as lubrication on the peel. Durum wheat is an especially high protein strain of hard wheat, mostly grown in the US and Canada. Not only does it have a higher gluten content than other strains of wheat, but the gluten is especially strong. Interestingly, the chemical properties of the gluten seem to be somewhat different as well. I say this because I am a long time sourdough baker, and I have noticed that durum wheat doughs are not as fragile as those made with regular wheat at a similar protein level. Sourdough bread can be tricky because certain fractions of gluten are dissolved by acid. These same fractions are responsible for most of the good leavening properties in the dough. Durum sourdoughs don't seem to experience the effects that would indicate that the gluten fractions responsible for good leavening were being broken up by acid.

Basilgirl, why don't you have a look at the wonderful eGCI class: Cooking for One. The associated Q&A thread is here.

I'm not sure it makes sense to split semantic hairs about the meaning of "evolution" in this discussion. I think we all share an understanding that, in this context, it has the meaning "a process of change and growth in a chef's cuisine." This seems to me well within the generally-accepted meanings for the word. The biological sciences meaning or evolution is only one among many.

Sounds awesome, JJ! I have to check that out. And, yea, that bartender is like, what, 8 feet tall? Good guy, too... turned me on to a nice grapefruit-flavored drink they're rolling out for Spring.

If I make a perfect pizza -- I am creating -- I am creating a pizza. I can't say it any clearer than that. This is semantics, and I have to think you're bring a little disingenuous in not getting my point. You may have "created" a pizza in the physical sense, but not in the conceptual sense. So, if you make a perfect pizza you are perhaps "creating" in the sense that you're making something, but I think it's quite clear that I have not used that sense of the word in this discussion. Rather, I have used the latter sense, of conceptual creation. If you make a perfect pizza margherita, you are not conceiving anything, you are not inventing anything, you are not putting your own imprint on anything and doing something that is uniquely your own. Rather, you are simply following a recipe or idea that someone else conceived/invented/etc. and skillfully reproducing it. Now, this may mean that you're an ace pizzaiolo, but you're not going to be remembered as "one for the ages" because you didn't really contribute anything significant in the world of pizza. You can't be compared to the guy who invented the pizza margherita, even if your execution is better than his, because he conceived something and you only copied something. Conceiving is significant -- copying is not. Setting trends is significant -- following them is not. I don't think you will find that the chefs who are considered to be at the top of the game (or, indeed, most anyone at the top of most any business) are copiers and followers.

Dude... you're going to Lubbock?! Interesting town. Very flat. On a more serious note, I have a number of relatives in/around there and will inquire. You can check out the Best of Lubbock web site, but it's pretty grim... to the extent that I thought some of the entries were jokes (Best Sandwich: Subway, Best Pizza: Pizza Hut, Best Seafood: Red Lobster). Better might be the Lubbock Restaurant Guide. Your best bet is probably Q at someplace like Bingham's Smokehouse or County Line Barbeque.

The question is which is more significant, the composing or the conducting. I would suggest that the composing is more important. Plenty of great composers also conducted their works, some were even great conductors. Mahler comes to mind as a composer who was also a great conductor. But, ultimately, Mahler's greater contribution to Music and Art, and greater genius, is found in his composition. Similarly, I would argue that the "conductor" aspect of Ducasse's cuisine is not as important as the creative aspect. To be sure, he has to have certain managerial skills in order to arrange for his conceptions to be executed at a certain level. But without the genius of the compositions, all the execution in the world doesn't really equal brilliance so much as it does competence. I think we're talking at cross-purposes here. There is a difference between brilliantly executed food and brilliantly concieved food. One needs the former to appreciate the former, but the former alone is not necessarily something that says "top of the world chef" to me -- and it is this class of chef of which we are talking here. A brilliantly executed old-style recipe can be great, but ultimately the chef isn't creating anything. It's like someone today writing a brilliantly-executed composition "in the style of Mozart." I mean, it's nice and all that the piece is in the style of Mozart, and maybe it sounds nice too, but in the final analysis it's just not significant and it's not a musical or artistic achievement of any importance. The 21st century composer who builds his career writing pieces "in the style of Mozart" will not be considered one of the top composers. Even though I am a performer (some would saym an "interpretive artist") myself, I have always felt that the creative act was more significant than the interpretive act. Similarly, I don't think a chef-performer is as significant as a chef-composer. Actually, if I were a composer and someone said, "you write as well as Callas" --yes, I would consider it an insult.

I'm not sure it follows that wine markups are so much more than food markups or less justified. Consider this... Babbo sells a primo of "linguine with clams, pancetta and hot chilis" for 20 bucks. Here is a recipe for the same dish. A serving for one includes 1/4 pound of boutique linguine, 1/4 pound of clams, 1/8 of a medium red onion, 1/16 pound pancetta, 1 clove of garlic, 2 tablespoons evoo, 1 teaspoon crushed red chiles, 1/2 cup white wine, 1 tablespoon unsalted butter and 1/16 cup chopped parsley. Looking at retail prices, let's say a buck for the pasta at Zabar's, a buck-fifty for the clams and 50 cents for the pancetta at Citarella, and let's call it another buck for everything else combined. Total food cost: 4 dollars (and this is being very generous, since these are top retail prices -- the actual food cost to Babbo is likely </= 1 dollar). Markup: 500%. Now, some value is added in the kitchen, you say? Okay. How much? Is the kitchen adding five times the cost of the food? Is it five times better than you can do at home? Or, might it be the case that the 500% markup includes other costs that figure into your restaurant experience? Part of what I gather Craig was saying applies here. I am quite confident that most of us here could make the abovedescribed pasta dish just as well as they do at Babbo for a fraction of the cost. But you pay more to have the dish prepared by an expert and served in a nice setting, etc. Likewise, you pay to have someone serve you a bottle of wine in primo condition, that they have helped you match with the food, and that you consume in a nice setting, etc. -- all this for a smaller markup most of the time. The value added by the restaurant may not be as apparent as it is when a cook shakes your clams in a saute plan, but energy and money are nevertheless expended in selection, storage, glassware, etc. I certainly don't claim to be an expert on the wine business, but I am given to understand that running a wine program is a lot more expensive than one might think. Just having the wines on hand, and employing someone to help you select them can be quite expensive. Not to mention that all the costs which figure into the food markup (rent, maintenance, linens, dishwashers, etc.) figure into the wine markup as well. I also don't observe that places like Babbo are generally charging a 500% markup on their wines. Personally, I am much more taken aback by the markup on twelve dollar cocktails than I am 100 dollar bottles of wine.

I'll address a few points here... First, one does have to make a distinction between the "composer" and the "performer" in the kitchen. There are some people who conceive the food, and others who execute it. As I think most people understand by now, Alain Ducasse, etc. do not do all that much cooking, if any, in their restaurant kitchens. So, understanding that, being able to execute the "classics" at a reasonably high level makes one a competent cook, but not exactly a creative force in the kitchen. These individuals are not likely to be the titans of the restaurant world in any country. This is the sense in which I think it is appropriate to compare a top restaurant chef with a composer rather than a performer. So, Mongo, your point was not well made with respect to Verdi not having to recompose Aida every night. Alain Ducasse doesn't have to reconceive the dishes at AD/NY every night either. He concieved them once, and thereafter supervised his staff in the execution of those conceptions -- in fact, as we know, most of the time he doesn't even do that. So, to a certain extent post-conception supervision also contributes to the chef's legacy, but the conception has to be there first. Performance ability in the kitchen is a distant third. Perhaps in this sense a chef at this level might be more similar to a composer like Rossini, who supervised and conducted productions of his own compositions, occasionally making changes and additions to suit the resources at his disposal we well as changes in contemporary tastes. The rare top-level chef who actually does significant cooking might be compared to Mozart, who performed certain of his own compositions numerous times. Now, when making this comparison, we are not talking about the scores of competent chefs who turn out excellent examples of tried-and-true dishes, following trends rather than setting them. These chefs might be more accurately compared to a Salieri or Paisiello -- excellent composer/performers in their own way, but whose efforts were ultimately overshadowed by those of Mozart and Rossini. Balex, I think most anyone would tell you that the food is quite different in Naples today compared to 40 years ago. I can't necessarily speak for Tokyo or Bangkok (although I would be very surprized were it not true for Tokyo, and most likely it is true for both in the highest restaurants), but I think it's important to note that we're talking about Western cooking and a largely Western restaurant culture. I don't think anyone is suggesting that a program of innovation for the sake of innovation is important. But, to be a chef of any importance and influence, it's important to develop one's own voice. Otherwise, you're just another one of those guys we've never heard of who sounded kind-of-but-not-quite-like Mozart.

This sounds like a great combination, and I'm kicking myself for not thinking of it myself. It's so obvious! Will be trying this soonest with a nice strong-flavored gin and some Vya sweet vermouth.

Notwithstanding the fact that your "10 second rest" method works, I don't think it's entirely for the reason you think. AFAIK, the seal is formed between the two parts because of the rapid cooling from shaking. Not only does the liquid in the shaker cool down, but the air cools down too. Knowing our friend Robert Boyle and his Law, we know that the pressure of the air will go down when it is cooled. This "negative pressure" is what causes the seal, rather than the metal of the Boston shaker contracting and forming the seal. The metal part may contract slightly, but this is due to the flexibility of the metal reacting to the difference in the internal and external pressures. Occasionally the cap on a three-part cocktail shaker will "seal up" for similar reasons. My guess is that the "10 second wait" method works because the gas inside the shaker warms up enough to weaken the seal within 10 seconds.

As discussed in this thread, Wagner manufactures a "polished cast iron" pan where the interior of the pan has been machined so it is smooth. Many people I know prefer these pans above all others.

Dude... the next time you come over, I'm making you an Aviation. I'll make a gin drinker out of you yet. I didn't have any maraschino liqueur, so I used gin, Cherry Heering and lemon juice. Great drink! AND I think I got the last two bottles of Cherry Heering in Manhattan.