carswell

Did you marinate the beef after slicing? In many preps it's sliced then mixed with some combination of soy sauce, oyster sauce, rice wine, oil, garlic, ginger, cornstarch, etc. Overcooking can cause toughness, too, something very easy to do on most domestic stovetops (paradoxically because they put out many fewer BTUs than a wok station in a restaurant). But I suspect the main culprit is your cut of meat; for beef stif-fries I usually choose flank steak or skirt steak and slice it across the grain. Filet works, too, but is more expensive and less flavourful.

It's been years since I've had a hamantasch and the Special Occasions thread on the filled pastry hats (poppy seeds rule!) has my mouth watering. Casualties of changing demographics and aging staff, the Jewish bakeries in my old haunts have mostly disappeared and I've never gone looking for a replacement. Any recommendations? TYVM!

Yes, packaged lard may be partially hydrogenated, in which case it contains trans fats, and it is almost always adulterated with preservatives like BHA and BHT. Check the ingredients list. For fresh lard, ask at butchers of the gourmet variety or ones that cater to Latin American or Portuguese clients. "Light, Fluffy: Believe It, It's Not Butter," a New York Times article published in October 2000, claimed that "John F. Martin & Sons of Stevens, Pa., will ship lard by mail for $2 a quart plus tax and shipping; (717) 336-2804." It's also easy to render your own, especially if you can find a butcher who will sell you leaf fat, the crumbly fat that surrounds a hog's kidneys. If you decide to go that route, say the word and I'll post a procedure or two.

Don't have the exact figures for the '61, but the estate's vineyards are around 60% cabernet franc and 40% merlot.

Isn't the Classique at the Atwater market (not the Sélection store on the other side of the street) a Terroirs d'ici outlet? While I've never set foot in it, I was under the impression they sold only local products. From the outside, their shelves look pretty full (it's a smaller space than 200 Jean-Talon East, I'll grant you). The Marché des saveurs "wine" room is fairly large, and didn't you or someone else here say they were runing out of space? Anyway, if you put together a full range of Quebec wines, fortified wines, fruit wines, mistelles, meads, etc. and threw in a complete selection of locally-brewed beers, you could certainly fill a good part of the space at 200 Jean-Talon East, no? Don't know about that. They're certainly using many of the hybrids Quebec wine growers are limited to. And they have provided the model for things like Quebec ice wine. BTW, it strikes me that there may be at least one silver lining to this dark cloud. As the Terroirs stores are part of the SAQ's retail network, people located in remote areas should now be able to have the Quebec products on sale transferred to their local outlets. In other words, the availablilty of the products will be expanded beyond the producers' cellar doors and the big cities.

SOFIA's straw is a conceit and the sincerest form of flattery. Pommery introduced the concept with its Pop Champagne mini bottles. As you'll deduce from visiting the website, it's largely an image thing (makes Champagne seem less stodgy, more soda poppy, more appealing to youth). Also, at least part of the target audience is ravers (check out the music and the wired babe with the fried eyes on the main page), who want to drink while dancing and who don't do flutes. Whence the need for the straw. Unless you decide, as the website also suggests, to dispense with it altogether and chug. Now you know. edit: typo

Have looked through the National Assembly proceedings, the Official Gazette (through June 2004), the Act respecting the Société des alcools du Québec and the related regulations without turning up a reference to either last year's removal of Quebec wines, fortified wines and ciders from grocery store shelves (discussed at the end of the first page of this thread) or their rumoured pending removal from Quebec products stores. The following provision of the Act certainly indicates that the government can do whatever the hell it wants, though: Will call the SAQ and/or the Régie des jeux, &c. next week to see if someone can give us chapter and verse.

Are you sure what you saw is the final product? The store appeared to be shuttered throughout the strike and the SAQ's managers were overworked just staffing the 40-odd stores that remained open. Also, all the stores went back on line today, which must be keeping the delivery people and other staff busy. In other words, I doubt anyone had much time to devote to the transformation. I wonder whether they didn't just open the TdI store to say it was open and will get around to expanding the inventory (assuming they can lay their hands on some) later. Looks like I don't have to work this weekend (first one off since Jan. 1!), so I should have some free time. Will see what I can turn up (if someone doesn't beat me to it).

Just pulled the following from a recently posted news release on www.saq.com (my empahsis): If I'm not mistaken, 200 Jean-Talon East is the space occupied by the former SAQ Classique store. That would make the nearest regular SAQ store the new one going up (or gone up?) on the corner of Mozart and St-Laurent, a half block north of Milano. Any guesses as to what the Terroirs d'ici store will do to wine sales at the Marché des saveurs? edit: Out, out damn typo!

This works beautifully with rapini. You can make it even simpler (one less pot to clean!) by not parboiling: When your garlic begins to turn gold, add chopped rapini and stir to coat with oil. Sprinkle with salt, pour in a half cup or so of water, bring to a boil, cover and simmer until the rapini is nearly done. Uncover, raise the heat and boil away most of the liquid. Sometimes I forego the anchovies, sauté some sliced onion before adding the garlic and add a small splash of vinegar and more oil at the very end. Great stuff!

Looks like they're open for business. Today's Voir has a glowing review by Tastet (the link will take you to the review through next Wednesday, after which time you'll have to click its name in the left column of the target page).

Sorry to see your query sit so forlornly, ned, unanswered and hardly even viewed. Further proof (as if any were needed) that the chrome peacock doesn't get the respect it deserves. Anyhoo, I'll make a stab at replying. Disclaimer: I'm sad to say I don't own a Pavoni and have had only a few opportunities to play with one. Pavoni baskets are small, though they're slightly larger if still undersized on the newer (aka Millennium) models. As a result, a lot of owners never bother with the single basket. As you've deduced, a single pull will force the same volume of water through the grinds regardless of which basket you use, meaning that the double basket plus a single pull gives a short double (more like a double ristretto in terms of volume). For a genuine double, you can pull the lever half or three-quarters of the way down, then push it back up, then pull it all the way down. (Some users advise pulling it all the way down, then pushing it half to three-quarters of the way up, then pulling it back down.) For a more detailed explanation, see CoffeeGeek's detailed review of the Pavoni Professional. Note: I've linked to the Operation and Maintenance page of the review; the releveant info is about a third of the way down. Also, the machine reviewed is an older, i.e. pre-Millennium, model.

One of my standbys. If you're organized, the sauce can be prepared in the time it takes to bring the water to the boil and cook the pasta. I usually make it with fusili or linguine. Chop a small onion and sauté it in olive oil. If you like, add some crushed red pepper flakes. Mince a garlic clove and add it to the onions after they've been cooking for 5 minutes. When the garlic just begins to turn golden, add a drained 7-oz. can of tuna. Break the tuna into small chunks. Add a tablespoon or two of drained capers (this is one of the rare instances where I prefer brined capers; the vinegar brightens the dish). Drain the pasta, transfer it to a bowl and dress it with a splash of olive oil. Add the tuna sauce, 2-3 tablespoons of chopped flat-leaf parsley and several grindings of black pepper. Toss and serve.

Yee haw! The 2,300 members of the SAQ office and outlet employees' union have just voted to accept the proposed agreement, effectively ending the strike. The vote was 1,622 (76%) for and 473 against, with 18 abstensions. Part-time employees will be guaranteed a number of hours and full-time employees will be assured of at least one day off each weekend. The SAQ has committed to creating 220 full-time positions over the next three years, although 20 or so office jobs will be eliminated. According to news reports, while some union members were pleased with the outcome, others openly expressed bitterness toward branch managers and promised to make life difficult for management upon their return. All SAQ outlets will be closed Wednesday and Thursday for clean-up and stocking and will open on Friday. The schedule: Fri., February 11: 12:00 to 21:00 (Express outlets open 'til 22:00) Sat., February 12: 12:00 to 17:00 (Express outlets open 'til 22:00) Sun., February 13: regular business hours resume. The SAQ.com website will accept transactions and display product inventories as of noon on Friday. edit: La Presse was wrong in claiming the agreement was for three years. Six years and three months is more like it: January 1, 2003, to March 31, 2009.

Agreed. I often use it to bard dry-fleshed birds (pheasant, guinea fowl) and even fish before roasting or braising. Another use, though, is to hold flavourings (herbs, ham, mustard, etc.) against the flesh. Maybe that's what zeitoun was doing with the chicken?

The stuff I get sometimes smells a little high but never rancid. That goes double for the taste. My standard prep is to soak it a couple of hours in cool water spiked with white vinegar or lemon juice. edit: Store any unused fat in the freezer, not the fridge. It can be refrozen repeatedly.

On a slightly more sober note... Treasured bottle pours wet cardboard and rotting fish. Die, Portugal, die!

A tangy spice mix commonly used to season snacks, including sliced fruits. Can be purchased ready made. Ingredients vary but — to judge by recipes I've seen and the ingredient lists on chaat masala packages — almost always include mango powder, asafoetida, chile powder, black salt and, often, ground cumin and pulverized dried mint. Am certain one of the forum's experts will be along later to provide a more authoritative answer.

[Continuation of the preceding post because the quote feature stopped working when I tried posting it in a single go.] See here and here. (Have tried only Isakaya's, which was good if not socks-knocking.) Épicerie Shavit (6334 Victoria, 514 739-4403) had some yesterday. Friday's La Presse had a feature on Indian cooking. You might try some of their suggested stores: - Au marché Jeevens (534 St-Roch, 514 279-8145) - Apna Bazaar (4852 des Sources, DDO, 514 421-0305) - Desi Mandi (815 Jarry West, 514 495-2111) - Marché Shah Jalal (534 Ogilvy, 514 905-7070). You're going to tell me this is in Laval, aren't you? I knew it. Apparently the problem is not at the retail level. See MaeveH's explanation. More later. But now I've gotta get back to work.

New York, mainly. Montreal's never been a destination for any of them. I bet the city's Dominican population was cut in half when the Expos split... Probably won't happen. As eat2much mentions, there are the language laws (not to mention the broader language barrier). Probably even more of a roadblock is the hard-to-fathom resistance to allowing outsiders to control or even compete in food retailing in Quebec, resistance entrenched at every level of society (government, business, union, population at large). Look at the hoops Loblaws had to jump through in their 20+ year struggle to gain a foothold in the province. Also, all the Whole Foods stores I know of in the States are located in affluent suburbs (NYC's Columbus Circle store is a recent exception); I can't imagine where one would fit here in Montreal. And, anyway, to make it worth their while, wouldn't they have to have more than one? Have been told that Marche Transatlantique (9720 Waverly, 514 287-3530) is a good source for French olives in bulk. Haven't been as it's out of the way for those of us without cars. Yep. Spent all of yesterday running around to pick up several ingredients for a fancy dinner: Indian spices and pappadoms; fresh lotus root; red snapper filets (never found any); baby beet leaves; non-jumbo star fruit; etc. By the time I got home, I was so bushed I dreaded the thought of cooking... Still, the Jean-Talon Market and environs are close to becoming a one-stop shop, though not for things Indian. Hmm. Trying to imagine where. Sure you're not thinking of Fernando, on Roy and Coloniale? Anyway, as I explain here, I finally found some at the Atwater Market. And I believe I've since seen tubs at JTM's Boucherie du marché. JTM's Les volailles et gibiers du marché has 250-ml and 500-ml tubs. Not cheap ($10 for 500 ml, IIRC). Boucherie du Paris (see above) used to regularly stock excellent dry-aged entrecôtes. Some of the more extreme examples (eight week's aging, cut from the small end of the rack) were incredibly gamey. Now that I think of it, they haven't mentioned aged beef in quite a while. Wonder why? Will ask why next time I'm there. Les petits plaisirs d'Andréa has excellent lemon and orange infused oil at a price. You're right. Haven't seen any since Pique-Nique Suisse and upstairs Guillaume Tell left this vale of tears. You'd think matchstick fries would sell themselves in this frites-crazy town. Maybe it's because they're hard to reconcile with the local taste for greasy fries?

Large ricotta-stuffed ravioli from the extension's new pasta shop were merely OK, the pasta a bit heavy and the filling rubbery and too nutmeggy. It'll do in a pinch but Milano has them beat on the ravioli front at least. And let me join the chorus of praise for Harve des glaces. All the flavours I tasted were excellent and the pistachio ice cream was the best I've eaten in years. You may pay through the nose ($6/500 ml) but you get your money's worth.

Didn't catch the review, but Mollé gave Jolifou a positive write-up in Saturday's Le Devoir.

Overshadowed by the La Presse's Saturday coverage of the tentative agreement between the SAQ and its striking workers was a short article by Christiane Desjardins, "Un amateur de vin accusé d'avoir concurrencé la SAQ" [Wine lover accused of competing against the SAQ]. The gist: An unnamed 38-year-old Montrealer is scheduled to appear in court on March 8 on charges of fraud and producing forged documents. The man, who operated under the psedonym Saint-Émilion, allegedly recruited clients on the wine formum www.crusetsaveurs.com by promising great wines at low prices. He would then buy the wines at www.winebid.com and other auction sites and have them delivered to a New York City hotel room. Once every other week he would travel to the Big Apple to collect the bottles but, on returning to Quebec, didn't declare the wine at the border. We're talking high end here: some of the bottles cost in excess of $1,000. His commission averaged around $50 a bottle. Even so, his prices were attractive: he sold an unspecified vintage of Château Margaux for $650 whereas the SAQ's price is $1,030. He is reported to have done business with around 40 individuals between August 2003 and October 2004. The SAQ got wind of the opearation and complained to the Sûreté du Québec, which caught him in a sting involving an officer who posed as a customer.

Not in today's Gazoo. W was the subject of the fine dining review. It got, um, well, shall we say, less than a rave? (**, $$$$)

[i wrote this a few years ago, immediately on returning home from the dinner in question.] Dinner at C.'s "Sorry but I have this deadline looming." "If only you'd called a half an hour earlier. I just accepted another invitation." "I think I feel a cold coming on." "Thanks but it's been one of those through-the-wringer weeks and all I want to do is veg out at home." "I'd love to but I have this lamb steak in the fridge and if I don't make it tonight, I'll have to throw it out." "You know, I'm really in the mood to cook. Why don't you come over here instead?" I'd been avoiding it for months. Tonight C. put her foot down: I was having dinner at her place, no ifs, ands or buts. Ah, C. One of the first people I met on arriving in Montreal in '73. An honours English classmate at McGill—her first paper, "Vaginal Versus Clitoral Orgasm in Women in Love," was written before she had personal knowledge of the subject and earned her a private interview with the lecherous prof. Later she travelled the world as an ESL teacher—Greece, Japan, Egypt, China, France, Spain, Italy, Mexico, India. A chain smoker who's tried quitting a total of two weeks in the last 30 years. These days something of a boulevardière, hanging out in the cafés and bistros on rue Bernard. A lover of beer and guzzler of cheap wine. Dismissive of wine appreciation ("Well, it tastes like wine to me," she announced after sitting through my encomium to Juge's 1990 Cornas Cuvée C). Appreciative of fine food, though. Appreciative of bad food, too. Always begins eating as soon as the food is set before her. Always grunts softly as she wolfs it down. Doesn't talk while there's anything on her plate. Has to have a smoke the instant she finishes eating, even if getting one means cutting you off in mid-sentence. Probably the worst cook I know. Her cookbook collection consists of a single unconsulted volume, Diet for a Small Planet, which was already gathering dust on top of her fridge when I first met her. "Well, can I help with dinner?" I ask. "No." "Let me bring a bottle at least." "You're always opening wine for me. Just bring yourself. It's my treat." I arrive at the appointed hour. As usual, C. greets me like a long-lost friend. She dashes into the kitchen and returns with two Molson Dry Ices. "Here," she says, handing me a bottle. "I know you like that microbrewery stuff but this was on special." She lights a cigarette and we chat for a while. "Let's move into the kitchen," she says. "I'm making a pasta dish of my own invention." "Anything I can do?" "Don't you lift a finger. Everything's under control. I just have to boil some water for the spaghetti." She grabs a two-quart saucepan and fills it half full. "You might want to use a bigger pan and more water," I suggest. "I don't have one," she replies. "And if I put more water in, it'll boil over." I go back to nursing my beer. "Now for the sauce," she says. A practical person, C. never refrigerates her margarine ("It's so much easier to spread"). This evening, she takes a mighty spoonful from the orange oleaginous blob on the counter and plops it into a skillet. When it's sizzling, she reaches in the fridge and pulls out a white plastic container. "I got some of those lovely little Matane shrimps," she says, adding them to the skillet. (Matane, a village on the Gulf of St. Lawrence, is known for its tiny crustaceans, sometimes called salad shrimp and always sold shelled and pre-cooked.) While the shrimp are frying, C. checks the pasta water. "Well, you know what they say about watched pots. Really, I must get this stove fixed. Only two burners work and not very well at that." The shrimp continue to fry. After five minutes, C. takes a container of whipping cream out of the fridge, pours it in the skillet and brings it to a simmer. At last the water boils. C. adds the spaghetti and salt and pours in some Crisco oil. The shrimp bubble away. C. sits down for a cig. And another. She goes to the stove, stirs the spaghetti, stirs the sauce, comes back for another cig. The pasta has been cooking for 15 minutes, the pre-cooked shrimp for 25. She stubs out her cigarette. "Well, back to work!" She opens the fridge, rummages around and emerges with three green canisters of Kraft Parmesan. "Don't know how long these have been in here. Probably a couple of years. We'll finish them off tonight though!" She shakes the cheese into the sauce, stirs it and turns off the heat. She dumps the pasta in a mesh strainer, looks at me and says, "It always seems to stick together. Should I run some tap water over it?" She does so before I can reply. The spaghetti goes in a bowl and is tossed with the sauce. She hands me a baguette and a knife. "Here. Cut this, would you?" The bread collapses under the blade. "A bit mushy, isn't it?" C. says. "But if you go just before they close, you get two for the price of one. Care for some margarine for your bread?" We sit at the table. "I had a late lunch," I say. "Don't give me too big a serving. ‘Small firsts, happy seconds,' har har." C. stops talking and starts chowing. Suddenly she looks up. "Oh, the wine!" She runs to the kitchen and returns with a bottle of Chilean cabernet from the convenience store. We eat and drink, the silence broken only by the occasional soft grunt.