paul o' vendange

Anna, thanks for this, it's a wonderful idea. I tend to do a daily prep list, trying as much as possible to once again be a "chef" by emulating the life, to the extent I can, alone at home, providing dinners of a certain quality to my family and, occasionally, friends. Trouble is, and this I'm sure is a struggle you've dealt with and may still be dealing with - I sense your spirit is strong, and vibrant, and resting isn't easy for you? - a good part of the days I do things, I pay badly for several days, if not weeks, afterwards. So what you write above is a wonderful idea, and one I would like to put in play. If the dream, mournful for a long time now, is to one day find my way back into my own, humble, kitchen somewhere in a beautiful, rural relais, it's been suggested to me by my psychologist (I have a good team of providers, and feel very fortunate) and others, that I consider just doing intimate dinners for 2-4 people, on an occasional basis. Whatever happens, your idea above is well taken, important and implementable, and I want to say thanks. And I hope you heal and cope with a very sad event in your life, as well as nature will allow. Paul Edit: Anna, I'm sorry, I initially confused you with Lisa - part of my condition is a fog-state a good part of the time and I can space really easily if I am not careful, so again, I'm sorry. I am saddened to know you, too, suffer from health problems. Thank you for your good thoughts and blessings to you on your journey back, I hope, to good health.

Everyone - I can't tell you in words, properly, how grateful I am for your kindness in posting these thoughts. I'm extremely grateful and soaking it in. I'm also very saddened to hear of your own sufferings, Lisa and Liuzhou. Going through this daily, I feel your fight keenly, and empathize with how difficult it is. I'm a cook, a member of a community who cares, and just want you to know I'm with you, too, as you have been with me here. Probably a good first step back for me was to become part of my hospital system's pain clinic, and there, among other things, they offered a mindfulness program, basically a cognitive approach to mindfulness and putting pain at the center. Honestly - I don't know about you guys - but though it also saddened me deeply to see others suffering so, it also showed me I'm not alone in this, I'm not crazy with my spinning thoughts, my lost mental functioning accompanying my physical decline, etc. Just to know, others go through it too. May sound weird or even selfish, but I got so insular - curtains drawn, inside solely - I lost all sense of a world outside, and lives going on. At any rate, don't want to go too long, taken enough bandwidth already. But I'm with you guys, I'm grateful for this website and its people, and I'm grateful for your thoughts here. Anna, thank you. I've always been so keenly drawn to Chef Keller's work; I see it almost a distillation of all that is French to the purest drop, a focus of technique and artistry that is probably as perfect as I can see being accomplished. What I've sought for, well, I guess as long as I've been cognizant I wanted to cook in this lineage, which crudely began over 40 years ago now. So it's a great suggestion. Interestingly - and your caution on getting scattered is also well taken, because this is forever my downfall - some time ago I was looking for what Chef Keller thought of the relevance of Escoffier for today's cooks, and came across this: -so this really started me on this notion of going all the way back, to Escoffier; then on to Point; then to his disciples; then their progeny; all the way back to a person I've tried to work from, Thomas Keller. So, Linda, you're point's also well taken. I think you and Lisa have touched something, which is probably the daunting task of going back to doing things I - I say this humbly, and without certainty - already know; to go back and work Escoffier's house of sauces, etc., when I know this world pretty well, might be "starting over" in an extreme and perhaps less than useful way. Keeping what I know while trying something unknown. Interestingly, I began my cooking life in pastry, those 40 some years ago...Christmas for 12 with Jacques Pepin's cream puff swans, Christmas log, spun sugar, other goodies, come only vaguely to mind. I tried to keep this short and failed here, too, sorry guys. Past experience has at least taught me, it probably doesn't ultimately matter what road is taken - whether starting with Escoffier forward, Keller backwards, picking and choosing among any of this line of masters, whatever - it's all learning. But my crushing need for structure, I guess, also raises its ugly head and I probably need to at least outline an intended course of study. Sorry for the ruminations again. You've given so much to think on and your kindnesses are deeply appreciated, all. Words can be so paltry; sincerely, thank you.

Everyone, I don't really even know if this is the appropriate sub-forum to place such a post; if so, I apologize mods and please feel free to do what you would like with the post. I've been away a long, long time. The last several years have been extremely difficult. Lost a restaurant, and for close to a decade, developed a permanent, systemic neuro condition that is disabling and a daily challenge. It wasn't until just a couple months ago that I seriously picked a knife up after so, so long away. I lost all love for cooking. I've lost my way. Since coming back as a means to fight back against some pretty severe depression of many years, an outgrowth of a lot of things but mostly, the constant, severe pain I experience, I find myself basically aping Thomas Keller or Alain Ducasse and/or his disciples, to try to regain lost technique, sense of taste, sense of what works. First pic below is inspired out of Ducasse's Atelier book. "Taken," is probably more honest. Sauce is mine, but components and plating is basically an amalgam of Keller and one of Ducasse's students, from the book. Braised lamb and tomato tartellette tatin, from Tom Collichio. Cured salmon with garnishes. No big deal any of them, and none of them, mine. I could use some help; I don't even know what I'm asking help for, as it's almost impossible I'll ever be able to cook professionally again. But somewhere in the back of my mind is some dream of a relais, something in the country, something less body and mind-busting as a city, competitive kitchen. Basically, I'm asking for an opinion for a lineage apprenticeship, a self-appointed, self-directed desire to lean on masters of French cooking to bring me back to a sense of strength in this tradition. I know this all seems pretty ludicrous - I'm 54, had a restaurant, etc. But I'm being sincere when I say, I feel like a child again, wanting to learn as a child-apprentice, in the French tradition. It will have to come via cookbooks. I have Escoffier, Point, Chapel, Bocuse, Vergé, Troisgros, Guérard, Blanc, Boulud, Ducasse, Keller, Waters, so many others. I know this has been beat to death. My bent is to start at the modern beginning - Escoffier, and the above order is pretty close to the lineage I have in mind - as I did when young, when I worked Pepin to death, work all these works to death, to find a sense of strength, a needed strength, again. Admitting roux is "never done anymore," and the host of antiquated preparations in Escoffier's work - start there anyway, and start as a child starts, without prejudice and only the desire for mastery. On the other hand, I feel ridiculous. And there's a part that says, no finer modern "teachers" than Keller or Ducasse, for example. Say, simply work TFL until I can say, it would pass the pass. I know this is all disjointed and long. Just reaching out, everyone. I appreciate your thoughts.

Yep, great tool. I used those too, for all our stocks. First time back in years, long story. Now devoted to making hard French alpine cheeses (Abondance form, really), but nice to be cooking again - it's been seriously a long time since I've done any - and checking in with this community. Thank you from my very humble heart, all, for keeping it going so strong.

This probably falls afoul of "should" to "would be nice." There's so much I miss from my pro kitchen that it would essentially be a replication of an average checklist, but priorities would be a second oven, blastable range heat (e.g., that can adequately handle my 80 qt.), a more expansive reefer, a lowboy of some sort, additional cellar space (for wines, charcuterie, and the various cheeses made at home), additional rack/hook space for the tons of pots and pans currently stacked in ugly and cumbersome fashion, and ... my gelato-baby, a stainless, weighty beauty, missed very much.

I'd like Chambord. As in Chateau de. With all the environs, to include what the land hath wrought, and a grand kitchen to work them in. Short of that, I suppose a hovel in Burgundy will have to do.

LOL - "Sauce Veronique derivative" he muses.... Not that I have a French bias or anything...

Sounds like a variation on Sauce Veronique, to me, which traditionally used muscat grapes, though usually peeled and left whole.

I thought the matchups were limited to mortals only?

First of all Stan, I'm really sorry to hear about your love's health issues. Without knowing you, from one person to another, a simple wish to her better health. Some thoughts, beyond bouillabaisse. Bourride (Provence, Languedoc); a provencale style, pureed fish soup; cotriade (Bretagne); matelote (different regions - Normandy uses, classically, sole, with shellfish and cider, while inland river regions like the Loire use freshwater eels, wine, etc.). Lots of others, obviously - Basquaise styles with salt cod, chowders more northerly (facing England, say), but these 3 obvious thoughts come to mind.

Interesting discussion on proper tamping. On the cold milk, yep, that's both my memory from barista days, and my home practice now. Not sure of the science behind it, but my suspicion is that this allows a proper length of steam infusion and froth development/redistribution, before reaching the critical threshold of milk temp (too much, and you end up with not only scalding/bubbles and not foam, but an unpleasant milk flavor). Use as cold a milk as you can muster, would be my ongoing advice.

I don't know the machine, but would recommend that if you could purge some hot water through the system prior to putting in the filter and handle, you will ensure, or better ensure, anyway, that you are getting properly hot steam (not a bad mixture of hot water and steam) into your coffee. Just a few seconds, insert the espresso filter, then go. As to your milk, to make sure you're also delivering a relatively pure steam and not mixture of steam and water, purge your wand until you see pure steam; you can use a coffee cup. Not necessary with any pro-line models, most home-line models, even pump delivery ones under several $100's, will need some priming to deliver pure steam. Once you do have that steam, bring the wand towards the bottom of the pitcher - not the top, yet - and bring the milk up to a hot (not scalding) temp. There is a temp ideal, which I've long forgotten (I worked my way through Berkeley by managing "Muffin Mania," and am only going on memory, so forgive any errors), but just cup the stainless pitcher and wait for it to feel "hot," but not exceedingly so. You don't want the milk to scald or boil. Once you've reached this temp, bring - and this is in my opinion the trickiest aspect of a perfect froth - the wand to just below the surface of the milk, and keep it so, so that you get a classic, fine froth developing, and a very characteristic "pitch" to the steaming sound; you follow this "up" as the froth stand develops. The longer you do this, the more you're apt to boil the milk, so be careful. If you find you are getting large bubbles, and a kind of boiling effect, you've either boiled your milk, or you have lifted the wand to high. The best froth comes from the proper feel of the wand just beneath the surface, and carefully following the froth stand up. Hope it helps! (edit -sorry, missed some of your post, and your new post. The purge is to get pure steam, so do it long enough to see that - if it's still pouring out water, that will go into, dilute, and ruin your milk). On the filters, from what I can tell, simply variations on a single (shallow filter, single spout) or double (deeper filter, double spout) espresso shot. Cannot tell what some of the other accessories are about, sorry.

Came across a 2007 Tortochot Gevrey-Chambertin, "Les Jeunes Rois." At $29, it was an incredible offering, in my opinion. Still tight, but already drinking really nicely, and over a day, opened considerably to promise much more. I've never come across her before - my understanding is that Ms. Tortochot took over from her dad - but am very intrigued to follow her more. Anyone else come across them? Other vintages/vineyards/impressions?

I think my objection comes from an apparent complete lack of historical appreciation. In this, I am in complete agreement with the many others of this thread. I believe with all my heart that whatever greatness we achieve in life tends to come from standing on the shoulders of those who come before us - we may see past their vista, but we begin by drawing from their strength and courage. In this vein, I count Ms. Child's contributions nothing short of visionary; she joins a pantheon of others I will always revere.

I'm not really that concerned with what a beer is "meant" to be or the trouble and/or effort a brewer went through to make it or why he/she made it - it should stand on its own without context and without explanation. Lots of brewers "mean" their beer to be good, and it isn't. Sour beers are "meant" to be sour, if you don't like sour things, explaining the intention doesn't make it any better. Modern hefeweizens are "meant" to be served with orange or lemon slices, but I don't like stuff in my beer - does that mean that I'm drinking hefeweizens incorrectly? I guess I'm not advocating that you only buy IPAs and DIPAs for cellaring. But I am suggesting that there is some value in cellaring them - that they do, in fact, change and sometimes for the better - or at least equivalently different. Yes, the hops, particularly aroma, degrade over time. But bitterness degrades much more slowly with little noticeable difference (especially in DIPAs) 2 or even 3 years down the road (a lot of the reason for this is that our palates can't really differentiate above 75 IBU or so, so 100+ IBU is often functionally equivalent). And, yes, hops can be a bit like tannins, especially with less filtered IPAs, the vegetal properties really come out and hops can taste like steeped tea. The hop aroma disappears, but often the malt aroma comes out, again without losing much of the bitterness. So, it becomes different, sometimes better, sometime not. My only point is this: Try it. See if you like the results - maybe you will, maybe you won't. I often like the results. You don't. We disagree. The only point of my post is that there are some of us, whether you find me crazy or not, who do cellar some IPAs on occasion. And, frankly, I don't know a single brewer of quality beer that would be offended. While I agree with you that the beer should stand on its own, ultimately - after all, you bought it - I think a brewer's intent is instructive if one is going to give a fair evaluation of the product, especially an aged product. I do have to disagree with the characterization that hop bitterness degrades fairly slowly; obviously so much depends on cellaring conditions, but degradation of iso-a-acids to off-products (which can often be mistaken for "bitter," but are in fact harsh, astringent chemicals differing from the isomerized alpha acids) can be quite pronounced, and it can happen fairly quickly.

That raises an interesting question, Carlovski. Many more more at home in Italian cuisine than I will chime in, I'm sure, but it does pique my interest. One of the reasons I love this stuff is precisely because of the "surprise" in its several bites - texture and taste. My want, personally, would be much like my want in ratatouille, the preservation of the discrete character from each contributor. Not therefore a fan of "melded down" ratatouille, and I suspect that although it would still taste wonderful, I would myself prefer to keep puttanesca similarly "fresco."

@David - I love Kriek/Lambics as well, although I tend to prefer the more austere varieties - Lindeman's catches some flak for using syrups, more or less a ton of resulting sweetness, and if I remember correctly, they do not bottle condition; makes their versions palatable for a broader swath, but they can be pretty cloying, in my opinion. Not that I don't enjoy them, on occasion, but if you find them too much to chew, I'd suggest a more authentic brew - some sweetness, yes, depending on the make, but a good deal of acid from natural/wild yeast/bacterial fermentation and skilled "aged" blending as well. Try Cantillon, Liefman's, others. @Florida, yep, another life ago, but I worked for the production brewery. There has been a veritable diaspora, since then - some still there, some went on to Sierra, Three Floyds, Peace, even to owning (Southern Tier). I got out of the biz entirely. And have shed close to a century.

There's nothing truly "Belgian" about Stella; a marketing success, and that's about it. Being a lager, it is as alien to Belgian brewing culture as it would be in, say, Hook Norton. In my opinion, an insipid, mass-produced and mass-appeal drink; the Budweiser of Belgium only - owned by InBev (ummm....doesn't the name just scream craft?), the largest brewing company in the world.

Chris, Oro was my first of his ales, and we were absolutely floored, as well. Second for us was the La Roja. Enough to convince a guy back to beer...! Edited to add....LOL, uh, that would be La Roja, the beer, not La Raza, the paper, or political movement.

Not sure what their distribution area is, but FWIW, a Michigan brewery doing outstanding Belgian-style ales would be the Jolly Pumpkin brewery. When we had our restaurant, we introduced them to the Upper Peninsula, and were very pleased to do so; a true craft artisan. Don't drink beer like I used to...in other words, about 70 lbs. ago, and another life (in the brewing industry...Goose Island), but Belgian ales, though they can be a confusing lot (add to their myriad "styles" are the many makers worldwide of their style), are well worth the investigation. Belgians know their stuff; they are unafraid of wildness, in every way (literally....much as "terroir" applies to wine, the wild yeasts and bacterias of Belgian brewing areas, floating freely and used to "infect" Belgian worts to make their lambics and gueuzes, have their unique characteristics regionally). Some non-Belgians doing good work, in my opinion...already mentioned Jolly Pumpkin, would also recommend Unibroue, out of Canada, or Ommegang, Upstate New York.

I just watched as much as I can bear. I love both Bourdain and Ripert, each are in their skins in their own way, and each have my abiding appreciation. I cannot stand MS, and this exemplifies why. What a completely arrogant fool.

I would say, if you don't notice much difference between a stock made from roasted and unroasted bones and mirepoix, then you may not be roasting deeply enough (or, depending on the animal, simmering enough/getting enough extraction). Much the same as the difference between a white and brown veal stock, white and brown chicken stock, etc., these are entirely different in character (and use). What are you looking to do with the stock?

That's a great point, John; I hope so. I need to stop reading older books...currently re-reading Eunice Fried's Burgundy, detailing, in part, Becky Wasserman's early forays into vigneron brokerage; that, and Waverly Root's Food of France, which I finished again recently, having read it for what must have been half a dozen times. Le Vin Bourru is on order next, by Jean-Claude Carrière....details life in 30's SW France. Not that Carrière's book is a rose-lensed view of rural viticultural life; far from it. They worked like dogs, like smallholders do, have always done. Still, after reading books like these, or Terry Theise's Reading Between the Wines, or Lawrence Osborne's The Accidental Connoisseur, I can't help but get melancholy; it feels ineluctable, like the tide of history is heavily weighted against craft, and towards an insipid mean, a global "standard." It doesn't help that my cousin is a California winemaker; I have seen firsthand (ok, secondhand) what happens when a large bunch of Bourbon boys assert their behemoth market sway on an entire wine region. Or when larger wineries themselves turn to these powerhouses for help in further "market penetration." I guess that if I acknowledge it as a natural consequence of a free market, in an era that more and more values some of the things we've been discussing, I see it, but it troubles me pretty deeply. Uh...I need me some garagiste nectar.

I hear you, John, and ultimately, the market will bear out -if people value price points only, eventually, then so be it; 2 Buck Chuck will rule the day. I guess my beef is that I see so much consolidation everywhere that skews what would be a "fair" evaluation - with such market force, it's difficult to get at the heart of true valuation, dollars for intrinsic value. Some would say, well, that, too, is simply the market - that advertising, and the sway of Parker's points are important to people, and they value accordingly. But I can't agree. I might just be a romantic, locked in hopeless enmity with modernity; I mourn the ability of family, small-plot vintners to stay alive, so will eschew Brown Forman's lineup anyday, if I can, to support a 1 hectare producer.