slkinsey

135F/57C is significantly below the temperature that most people feel is the lowest you can go for "just done" breast meat in poultry. Most people are happier with at least 60.5C/141F for breast meat, and this temperature is likely to seem undercooked for leg meat. As for the times, 12 hours seems excessive. All that is needed for pasteurization at 60.5C is around 5 hours, and even at the lower temperature Jack proposes, 6.5 hours would be sufficient for pasteurization of a piece as thick as 70 mm. While the leg meat may derive some benefit from longer cooking (although not at either 57C or 60.5C, in my opinion), this is not so with respect to the breast meat. Chuck, your proposed temperatures and timings seem about right to me. You may want to go longer with the breast meat to get pasteurization, depending on how thick it is. The temperature of the leg meat will depend on the effect you desire. Do yourself a favor and read or search through this thread. You will find plenty of information on cooking turkey.

I think that, what is to be gained from this, is that Schlag, just like our American "whipped cream" can be sweetened or not, depending on context and the desires of the cook.

Interesting take. Although I would say that it is more "cocktail + citrus" rather than "sour plus bitters."

Was any of those four times in Vienna? This German language recipe specifically calls for unsweetened whipped cream: "Mit "Schlag" (ungesüßter Schlagobers) servieren" (ungesüßter = "unsweetened"; Schlagobers = the Austrian German word for Schlagsahne = "whipped cream").

In a way, I suppose it's like looking for a recipe for "à la mode" or "au jus."

Huh! Who knew? Well, you and these guys, clearly. I'll have to try it with confectioners sugar next time. Maybe that's how they get it so thick at Peter Luger.

In the context of dessert, I'd say that it is true that it is usually sweetened and usually flavored with vanilla. The same thing is true with respect to whipped cream for dessert and coffee in the United States -- it is usually sweetened and often flavored with vanilla. But, in other contexts, it might not be. If you were in Austria and got some whipped cream that was unsweetened and flavored with rum, it would still be Schlag. What's the thinking behind using confectioners sugar (very fine sugar with corn starch) in whipped cream? Does the corn starch add stability or something?

Two things: I'd say that the whipped cream there is likely to be sweetened if it is going to be used with a dessert, just like it would be here. And it can also be flavored with whatever you like. But neither of these things would be necessary for it to be called "Schlag." Second, I imagine you mean to say superfine rather than confectioner's sugar. Confectioner's sugar contains corn starch.

I think it is unlikely that what this recipe calls for is "guinea fowl" (known as faraona in Italian). Rather, it is calling for a "fowl," meaning "a cock or hen of the domestic chicken (Gallus gallus) ; especially : an adult hen" (see: Merriam-Webster's Online Dictionary, 11th Edition). Which is to say that you'll be just fine using a fryer, although as usual you would get more flavor out of a more mature chicken.

Mit Schlag simply means "with whipped cream." The verb schlagen, in this context, means to beat or whip. Schlag stands in for the larger word Schlagsahne, meaning "whipped cream" (Sahne = "cream"). It's like saying, "with whipped" or "with whip" -- which is a colloquialism still used in parts of the country with lots of descendants of German immigrants. So, to answer your question, there is no recipe for Mit Schlag. It's just plain old whipped cream. For example, Kaffee mit Schlag is simply coffee topped with whipped cream.

David, for goodness sake, don't take it personally. Freepouring has a larger margin for error than using jiggers. I don't see how you, or indeed anyone could possibly argue otherwise. It's simply a fact. I could bore you with detailed explanations of the various reasons why this is true, but I believe I outlined most of them above in post #9 in reasonably detailed layman's language. So, to suggest that yours or indeed anyone's freepouring in real-world conditions necessarily involves a certain amount of error greater than a similarly skilled bartender using jiggers is not meant as an insult. It is simply stating a fact. You, yourself said, "point taken on my friend pouring 4 ml and me pouring 6 ml." Skilled bartenders at using jiggers are not likely to have a 2-3 ml discrepancy using a powerful ingredient such as Chartreuse. And yet, perhaps even more skilled bartenders will never be able to approach this level of accuracy freepouring. That equals error. I don't have to test you on it. I am quite aware of the limits of human perception. I earned a degree studying this kind of thing. I think your assertion that "not filling up a jigger defies the point completely and makes this conversation null and void" reflects an incomplete understanding of the variables involved here. Let's say that one is making the hypothetical Sidecar I mentioned above (2 ounces cognac, 1 ounce Cointreau, just a touch less than an ounce of fresh lemon). If you freepour, there are four opportunities for error: 1. the two ounce pour of cognac; 2. the ounce pour of Cointreau; 3. the slightly less than once ounce pour of lemon juice; and 4. whether or not, taking into account the possibility for error in pouring the ounce of Cointreau, the lemon juice pour is actually smaller than the Cointreau pour, and by how much. If one is using a jigger, there is only one possibility for error: mow much less than one ounce of lemon juice are you going to pour. And since the bartender will have the static visual reference of the jigger to judge just how much less than full the jigger is filled, this possibility has a much smaller margin for error than any one of the four possibilities when one is freepouring. Again, it is a simple fact that it is easier to look in a jigger and judge that there is a tiny line remaining before the jigger is full than it is to make a volume judgment by counting or watching a stream of liquid (never mind that flow rates will be different depending on the fullness of the bottle, the nature of the pour top, the temperature and viscosity of the liquid, etc.). As to bars that stock multiple brands of bourbon, rye, cognac, etc. that bartenders are able to experiment with in creating and refining their cocktails (which is what I mean by "developing")? Some have more brands than others, but I would say that all the top cocktail bars in NYC stock multiple brands of various spirits. This would include, off the top of my head and in no particular order, Pegu Club, Flatiron Lounge, PDT, Death & Company and Clover Club. Milk & Honey does not have as much spirit redundancy as most bars here of their calibre due to severe space constraints. I have literally sat at the bar on many occasions as bartenders have mixed, tasted and evaluated over a dozen iterations of a cocktail they're working on, and they have been known to refine their ideas and creations over periods of weeks occasionally months before putting them on a menu. And this is the reason these people are known as the best of the best. Again, I cannot of course speak for everyone and I am sure there are a few oustanding counterexamples. But I'd say that 100% of the top cocktail bars in NYC are jiggering bars, and that 95% of the top cocktailian bartenders of which I am aware use jiggers. Tristan seems to indicate that a similar percentage would be true among the top cocktail bars and top cocktailian bartenders in London.

Intrinsically means that the substance itself is what you are addicted to. When one becomes addicted to, say, nicotine, one becomes addicted to the nicotine itself. It's not that you smoke a cigarette and then your brain produces some other chemical that your brain likes, and you get addicted to that other chemical. You're hooked to the actual nicotine. The way the authors have described their model, it works like this: You binge on tons of sugar with some frequency. Eventually, following a significant history of this binge behavior, your brain starts to produce opiates in response to these binges. Your brain likes opiates. Opiates are addictive. You become addicted to these opiates. Since binging on sugar is a way of getting your brain to produce these opiates, you continue to binge on sugar in order to feed your addiction to opiates. Note that you are not addicted to sugar. You are addicted to the opiates. Now, let us rephrase: You binge on rich, fatty foods with some frequency. Eventually, following a significant history of this binge behavior, your brain starts to produce opiates in response to these binges. Your brain likes opiates. Opiates are addictive. You become addicted to these opiates. Since binging on rich, fatty foods is a way of getting your brain to produce these opiates, you continue to binge on rich, fatty foods in order to feed your addiction to opiates. Note that you are not addicted to rich, fatty foods. You are addicted to the opiates. One more time: You visit a dominatrix with some frequency. Eventually, following a significant history of this BDSM behavior, your brain starts to produce opiates in response to these assignations. Your brain likes opiates. Opiates are addictive. You become addicted to these opiates. Since visiting a dominatrix is a way of getting your brain to produce these opiates, you continue to visit a dominatrix in order to feed your addiction to opiates. Note that you are not addicted to being spanked by a woman wearing a rubber cat suit. You are addicted to the opiates. No, actually, the paper does not say that. The press release publicizing the research says that, in a sound-bite from one of the authors. We don't know what the paper says at this point. It has not been published.

Perhaps I can put it another way. You are running to the kitchen to eat sugar, and not foie gras and butter. You may reasonably say that you are addicted to sugar, and this paper gives some initial support to this being a neurological reality. I, on the other hand, am running to the kitchen for foie gras and butter, and I don't give a crap about sugar. It would be infinitely more difficult for me to give up fat than it would be to give up sugar in my diet. Other people may be out there running, period. And it would be very difficult for them to give that up. The authors comments suggest that a similar addiction mechanism is likely for both my cravings for fat and the runner's fondness for the "runner's high." So, what are we to condlude from this? That sugar is an addictive substance the same way that heroin is an addictive substance? That your "sugar addiction" is real and my "fat addiction" is fake? Or, rather, that it is possible for a variety of substances, and indeed activities to produce an addiction response with respect to things that are not intrinsically addictive in and of themselves?

Right. K8memphis's point that sugar is so pervasive in processed foods, etc. in our society that many people may already display this addiction response in association with consumption of sugar is well made. There is nothing in this paper that speaks to that one way or the other. I do, however, agree that overconsumption of sugar in processed foods is a problem. I don't eat processed foods as a general rule of thumb, so I am not particularly concerned about putting syrup on my waffles. More to the point, however, there is nothing in the author's description that suggests that sugar is an intrinsically addictive substance the way acohol, nicotine and morphine are. Indeed, they specifically say the opposite.

That's because they didn't study that. The point I'm making is that they didn't necessarily identify anything about sugar that makes it any more intrinsically addictive than other things. What they did was show that, under certain conditions, laboratory animals exhibited an addiction response associated with the consumption of sugar. The authors are also quite clear that it is not the sugar, per se, that is addictive. Indeed, they go out of their way to point out that the addiction is to the opioids, saying that "the brain is getting addicted to its own opioids as it would to morphine or heroin. Drugs give a bigger effect, but it is essentially the same process." If you read their summary, it is quite clear that anything that might trigger the release of opioids in the brain (pain, for example, or fat or fear or whatever) could eventually create a similar addiction response.

I think you will find that the text from Dr. Hoebel's Princeton web page paints the research in a different light: None of this precludes, say, binging on very fatty foods from producing a similar kind of reaction in the brain. This doesn't necessarily point to sugar as an inherrently addictive substance in the way that, say, nicotine is. It does point out that it is possible to "get hooked on sugar" and suggests that this is likely a broad problem in American society due to the prevalence of sugars in our foods. It does not mean, however, that eating the occasional cookie or drinking the occasional full sugar coke will turn us into shivering sugar-fiends.

I think it's possible to do that in development, and it can be a good learning tool, but not consistently in execution.

No. Accidental, error-based differences are not "part of the art" of making a cocktail. This is not skilled "variation on a theme." Rather, it is variability based on a lack of precision in measuring. The busy Friday night bartender should be able to make the drink exactly the same as the slow Wednesday night bartender. Would you think it was "part of the art" if you went to a restaurant on a slow Wednesday night and got your steak exactly medium-rare with a perfectly calibrated sauce, and then when you went there on a busy Friday night the steak was cooked medium and the sauce was less salty and more acidic? Of course not. Intentional variation of amounts, which may be appropriate to some cocktails (e.g., the Martini) far more than others (e.g., the aforementioned Tantris Sidecar), is another thing entirely. But a big part of this has to be that the bartender knows what he's putting in the glass, and how much of it. I have never had a truly outstanding freepoured Martini. And it should be pointed out that mixing a cocktail is related to, but not the same thing as cooking. First of all, the vast majority of cocktail ingredients are far more standardized than the raw ingredients available to a cook. Second, a cook preparing, say, a tomato sauce can taste, add a little bit of this, a dash of that, maybe a pinch more salt... and eventually come up with a sauce that is more or less in the acceptable range of his usual marinara, and no less delicious for being prepared by an entirely intuitive, entirely unmeasured, "make it up as you go" process. This is not really possible with a cocktail. It doesn't take multiple hours to prepare a cocktail, and there are not multiple opportunities for tasting and adjustment. Pre-tasting cocktails is largely a matter of error-correcting: you're trying to make sure the lemon juice isn't off and that you remembered to put in the simple syrup rather than trying to figure out whether the indeterminate splash of vermouth you threw into the glass is too much or too little for the Blood and Sand you're making. A bartender isn't going to "taste his way into a great cocktail" the way a cook can "taste his way into a great marinara sauce." Indeed, there is some question in my mind as to whether tasting for any reason other than error correction has much validity when you are tasting the ingredients pre-dilution, pre-shaking and at room temoperature. Meanwhile, the bartender's ability to make mid-course corrections after the cocktail is chilled and strained are extremely limited. The best bartenders coming up with the best cocktails, in my observation, often spend hours trying endless variations on a theme (try it with this bourbon, then that bourbon, then that other bourbon, then how about rye, then how about a mix of rye and applejack, then this much lemon juice, then a little less, then a mix of lemon and lime, etc, etc, etc.) until they have refined their creation to its best possible iteration. This is the time for a "dash of this and a splash of that" technique, although needless to say, measuring the constituents of the experiments is key to reproducing the successful outcomes later. Phil Ward's "Cooper Union", for example, is already going to turn out different, and probably not as good, if it's made with Jameson's instead of Red Breast, and a rinse of Talisker instead of Laphroaig. It's surely not going to turn out quite right if it includes 50% more St. Germain than it's supposed to have. This means the customer would be getting a cup of mediocrity instead of a symphony in a glass. Again, if you're making a Sidecar and you want to go 2 ounces cognac, 1 ounce Cointreau and a touch less than an ounce of lemon juice because the cognac you're using is a dry one... using a jigger is just the right way to know that you're really putting in just a touch less than an ounce. Since classical music is my business, this makes perfect sense to me. What I want is for the piece to be rehearsed, and for the performance to reflect that rehearsal. I don't want my aria to start and for the conductor to make an error and go 50% slower with twice the volume from the brass. I don't want my cocktails to be like a bunch of guys in their garage thinking they're the next incarnation of the Grateful Dead. Yes, exactly. Making some intentional changes in a deliberate way, where you understand the change you have made, just how much of a change you have made, and the likely effect of that change is not the same as having changes happen due to measurement error.

Yea... I'm with Steven on this one. There are certain tasks for which tongs are indispensable (I'd say that my main use is to fold pasta together with the sauce during the last-few-minute cooking together), but all in all I rarely use them. Strangely, my most commonly used utensil is probably a heat-proof rubber spatula. Much of the time, I don't use any utensil at all.

I think, and I am going on memory here, that Dave Wondrich explained in Imbibe! that the julep strainer got its name because it was originally placed on top of the ice in an actual julep to make it easier to drink without getting a facefull of ice.

But... it's chemicals!

I certainly wouldn't suggest that one try to make several cups of roux in a 5 inch diameter pot. But I'd think that a 9 inch saucepot with decent thermal characteristics and a stainless interior would (1) be a lot easier to judge the level of browning than a cast iron skillet; (2) undoubtedly have a much more "flawless" interior; and (3) would have more even heat (I have yet to find a piece of cast iron cookware thick enough to avoid a "heat ring").

I suppose you could have all your ingredients chilled and dilute with chilled water, etc. But this doesn't seem very practical in a real-world environment to me.

One doesn't have to use a cast iron skillet to make roux, however. Any heavy saucepan will do. And, indeed, since large wide space is not needed for adding/cooking additional ingredients, a narrower/taller cooking vessel like a heavy saucepan would offer greater control. I have used the ice-bath method to stop the browning of a caramel many times. I make caramel in a large, heavy copper saucepan that will be as hot as any flour-and-fat roux that is not burned (375F is about the right temperature of dark caramel, 350F is typical of a dark roux). So far, nothing bad has ever happened when I put the hot pan into the ice bath. Indeed, this is a standard method for rapid cooling.

Still seems like too much trouble. I guess if I were that scared of bacteria, I'd blowtorch the outside.