paul o' vendange

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.

LOL - not two minutes ago my wife showed up with our boy, fresh home from school (and Trader Joe's, along the way)...with makings for...uh, yep. I had mentioned to her my pang for the stuff, and voila. -her loot includes a tin of Cento anchovies. Seems the universe is conspiring to tell me something...

OK, OK, I'll relent. Oh, not on using unblanched anchovies. On the name. Penne Putain. A gentler, more L'ile de France cousin.

On the anchovy, it is the taste itself (rather than any textural thing - the "Shakey's Pizza" comment was a joke, from my childhood memories) that is at issue, but as I say, I love (salt packed) anchovies generally. Like your idea of basil in at serving, often "sort of" do that on other things (e.g, see fishy below...halibut on ratatouille, pommes anna, red pepper coulis, basil oil, garnishes of nicoise and basil chiffonade), interesting to try. Between the first drop of garlic and plating is likely no more than 1 minute or so, as I work it that fast. First from "family meal" at a now-closed place in L.A., I've never shaken the love of this particular, rustic flavor combination...and the bite of "goodies" nested throughout the pasta. Thanks for the idea!

Definitely doable - an old and in my opinion a noble tradition, if amounting to little more than slave labor. But if you go in with the idea that you are working and gaining an essentially free, practical and rigorous apprenticeship - oftentimes, in a place that can little afford any kind of slipshod work - it can both give you exactly what you seek, a realistic appraisal of whether this is for you, and if you bloom at your chosen place of stage, an entree into bigger and better things; all for the cost of your labors alone. If you're young, have few encumbrances, a good heart and a clear eye, and know what you're getting into, I say, go for it. Having apprenticed to a number of folks - the last, a Japanese martial arts and zen master, while in my mid '30's (uchideshi - "live inside" student, literally, living inside the temple/dojo), I'd definitely put the emphasis on "young." Ask my now decrepit spine. At any rate, congrats on your desires, and all the best wishes for your success. Anyway,

Chris, weird for me that I don't use anchovies in this, as I love them generally; for some reason, it throws the palate out of balance for me, in this dish. After all is said and done, though, with a name like "puttanesca" and whole, discrete, big flavors, maybe "balance" is a bit of a ridiculous goal... I think it's one too many visits to "Shakey's Pizza" as a kid, with the little bones the stuff of puerile nightmares... I like to use water (and milk, depending on what I'm doing) soaked/"blanched" anchovies, too, when wanting some of the character but not all the sharp bite...will try it here. Or, like caramelized onions and grey liver, perhaps I will let my childhood food demons go, and just do an honest puttanesca. Thanks for the input so far, folks!

Just curious how folks put together theirs...one of my favorite quick dinners, though it is "standard," curious for what your tweaks are. I do not simmer this thing, but depend on a healthy dose of hot olive oil to pick up infused flavor quickly. Basically, heat olive oil to below smoking, then toss in in quick succession of (moderately) crushed garlic, basil chiffonade, let them quickly work, whole olives (kalamatas, usually, but also gaeta, or alphonso), capers (with some juice - I know it's sacrilegious, but I do not use anchovies...so get some salt otherwise); let the brine liquid work for a small bit, toss in chili flakes, then prepared pasta (tomato) sauce. Flavors come together for only a small while, pour over pasta (usually, penne), and chow. What's yours?

I agree with much of djyee10's post. I know that unless I am extremely lucky, I will sadly never gather anything more than lesser-growth Bordeaus, for example. That said, my preference for wine is decidedly in terroir, a concept I do believe in, love, and embrace sensually, if it is misused and overused. I am not a Parker fan, generally, and if he has sneered at the notion of terroir, to some extent, I am a fan of growers who call themselves growers, not winemakers, again, generally. All of which is to say that I do not believe all lands are equal. One can certainly work with one's terroir to make the best wine with what one's got. But I measure "best" to mean the most pleasurable wine (and for me, that includes its ready marriage with food), given its expression of the land. I do not measure it in trying to squeeze out some alchemy from one's land to market the wine to some perceived, authoritative, global standard.

Funny that. I wonder how it happened? Really? This tweet to Jay Rayner and this one to Giles Coren would seem to indicate otherwise. Hamlet Act 3, scene 2. Methinks.

I guess I remain puzzled as I don't find this a complicated thing. I should think anyone would be flabbergasted that a private conversation was made public, and once that line was betrayed, not sure what incentive would be in place to continue the conversation, since privacy wasn't honored in the first place (in fact, quite the opposite - at least a nominal publicizing, for reasons hashed over throughout the above, before a potential 100's of 1000's). Less to do with whatever the nature of the conversation, and more to do with publically outing that private conversation in the first place, in my opinion. This is beyond the other issues raised in the thread, which I won't revisit.

SW France, or the Touraine, or Burgundy. My wife has EU citizenship, and our sights are moving more towards achieving it.

I personally would be more distraught, if I ever in my wildest imagination thought I "could have" afforded an 1869 Lafite-Rothschild prior to a spending spree by the relatively more cash-flush. As it is now, decent Burgundies are a vice that needs managing.

I may get flamed. In this era of entire fiefdoms built on air, I don't think we need more energy swirling around the insubstantial. We must go to the thing itself, and ask questions accordingly. I find the review vapid. Based on what I have seen, I can't help but taste self-seeking, on the back of someone's honorable work. The private conversation he allegedly had should have remained just that, a private conversation; if things took place as they did, while I don't condone his behavior, I have to admit I understand it. I cannot support both the original blog itself - beyond its lack on the merits, as many have said, if the desire was a corrective, this scattershot was no way to achieve it - as well as the mushrooming publicity engine seemingly sought, perhaps from the beginning, since.

Some wonderful squashes and pumpkins from our new digs (out of Chicago, into a Wisconsin idyll), so made a butternut squash soup with duck fat-fried croutons, from levain boule I make twice a week or so. Main was some roast game hens with a cherry gastrique, on a large palette d'ail doux. On a serious game poultry hankering, it seems (I usually get this disease in the autumn), so will confit some ducks for cassoulet, garbure and salads this week (and, botulism be damned, holiday season). Edited: Posted before Prawn's post. Prawn, gorgeous meals, and lovely taste pairings. Thanks for the bit of joy.

I've personally always just left the lid off - the concern, if it exists, for loss of aromatic volatiles can be compensated for by more aromatics (though I've never had an issue with it, personally) (keeping in mind that "concentration" is a function of raw materials in, time, and energy applied - you can increase concentration by increased dosing of raw material, longer time on the simmer, or a more intensive heat...but each has a tradeoff). I leave the lid off, basically, because I skim constantly during the first, intensive period of scum production, and only a bit less intensively than that over the entirety of the stock simmering period. Basically, I freak if I see anything other than a pristine, glassy surface (and depth) to my stockpot. Another, related, reason to leave the lid off is the difficulty of keeping the barest of simmers going - lid on, and I think you might find a rolling boil far too often, and there goes the quality of your stock. I suspect, but have no data to back it up, that there are, as well, undesirable aromatics (e.g., sulfurous compounds) that one actually wants to drive off. I borrow this from brewing technique, only, and have no theorizing of the "relative volatility" of desired v. undesired volatiles, hence an argument in this vein for leaving the stock lid off. Finally, and bear with me (again, only a hunch - I may be completely wrong), but there IS a balance between time and desired aromatics' volatility, hence an argument to be made for whether one does or doesn't want some evaporation in the stock (or mother sauce) simmer itself. By which I mean, if extraction was all one wanted, one would use a bathtub of liquid for a given amount of solid materials, to maximize the osmotic differential and hence extraction. Once the differential between your solid material and the bathing liquid slows to approaching zero, you won't get much further extraction. All good, if extraction is the only desire. But then you have to reduce it for days, and not only are you evanescing proportionally more of the more volatile compounds, you are increasingly altering them from their natural state. We do want some of this - maillard reactions, among others (e.g., protein or starch chain structural changes), are a desired goal; but too much, and we may end up with something undesired. I think of vegetal character, something exemplified for me by asparagus cooked to literal death. Sorry for the side-trip, and I may be complete bollocks. Just an argument, again, for knowing one's goals, experimenting, honing one's palate and re-experimenting accordingly. All the above, please take it with a serious grain of salt - as with most things, it can get as simple or as complicated as one wants to go (I brewed my first beer from a starter kit my wife gave me about 15 years ago...went insane, built a custom, 2 bbl brewery, and studied malting and brewing through Heriot-Watt...fun; though at the end of the day, beer is, well, beer). What I am taking a long way to get to saying is that I feel whatever you're doing, simple, or complicated, to achieve a really nice result, what really matters are - ever and always - fundamentals. I'd suggest you just start; as you may find it some time before you're happy with your results (or not!), this is why I'd hate for you to expend on veal meat before having different methods under your experience cache. The other reason is, as with all experiments, that unless you isolate something, and change it over time, you won't know what "variable" gave you your beautifully clear, unctuous fond. Was it your care, your technique - or the addition of prodigious amounts of (très cher) meat? Happy with your stock, try a demi-glace from Sauce Espagnole; try it as a straight reduction; try it in remouillage, with a strong and a weak stock joining for a final reduction. Have fun.

Oh, there's nothing I have that is not learned from a billion other people - "self-taught" is always a wrong term in my opinion, because we always stand on the shoulders of masters before us, at least when learning principles, anyway, but my brief story is that I began learning French technique as a child, when I worked Jacques Pepin's La Technique cover to cover, and catered dinners accordingly, as a young pre-teen; I've done this since then which, uh, ages me to a near half-century. So I'm saying "my" veal stock is nothing more than an amalgam of many, over the years - so many, a short list would include M. Pepin's (whom I accord the respect and love as a first and kindly "teacher"), Escoffier's, Madeleine Kamman's, many, many others, down to Thomas Keller, from whom, vicariously, I've learned so much over the last several years. If I could offer anything, that is that care - and I mean, extremely rigorous care, all along the process, from the size of mirepoix cuts to the selection of pot/pan sizes during successive and final reduction periods, and management of heat accordingly - matters more than anything else. A quick for instance, and only one, would be, for me, the necessity of watching your final reduction temps to ensure you are not rocking the demi-glace at too furious a simmer (or moving it to a boil). Others far more schooled than I can chime in, but there is a definitive difference obtained, at least by my senses, between a mother sauce obtained with careful simmering, and one probably rocked too fast; the former has a neutrality and clean sensibility I do seek, the latter can have, not quite a grittiness, but a kind of ... words can be such paltry descriptors... "roasty gumminess" that I try to avoid. My guess on the science of it, partially informed from a fairly extended, serious foray into brewing (Heriot-Watt, Edinburgh), would be that the faster you heat something by a direct heat (as opposed to, say, by steam jacketing), the more you engineer collisions between sugar-amino complexes, and between these and the local heat interfaces of your pan bottom. Not trying for scientific obfuscation, but my hunch is just that the maillard reactions obtained thus complex in a different way from those made during a slower, gentler simmer - perhaps, in part, solids with a mass exceeding the sensory threshold, so you perceive their "gritty" character? At any rate, such a reduction rate results in a less than pleasant sensory effect. Others more knowledgeable should be able to talk about this more authoritatively. At any rate, I can only offer my truly humble advice, which is that the techniques and proportions are no secret - the "secret" is in honing your palate, and your hands to match what your palate is teaching. I know for myself, it is the sensuality of cooking that has sustained me, for many decades (even to now, when the likely end of my professional life due to a poor, mis-managed spine comes increasingly home to roost).

My humble advice is that I think it is probably important to decide what you want from the stock - I know for myself, I use it as a foundational stock for a good many small sauces - most of them, integral sauces from other animals, which I took directly from Thomas Keller's methods. I make and use veal demi-glace for its high collagen content, and its felicitous mix of neutrality and depth - a wonderful carrier and extender of flavors, mouthfeel and layers, without adding a definitive bovine line of taste, as, for instance, with beef stock. Because that's my purpose, I find the collagenous bones, prodigious aromatics, and two sessions of extended simmering (with extremely rigorous attention to skimming, etc., throughout) accomplishing what I set out for with the stock. Given that, for my purposes, I honestly can find no justification for using veal meat (any longer - I used to use, say, veal breast, to enrich the stock). But that's because of my purpose in using the stock. If for some reason you want it for something other than as a kind of mother-carrier or base for other stock/sauce derivations, then I understand your associated cost. Just a suggestion, but why not start with a straight up, bones-only veal stock and demi-glace, see if you like it, and play with what uses you can put it to (e.g., the myriad derivative sauces; "small sauces" a la Keller's methods for integral sauces (see his book))? This will give you plenty of experience working with the material, and by tasting, smelling, watching it, working with it with bones only, your experience-points won't be so dearly won. You can always compare with the addition of meat (e.g., breast) once you've worked these sensory and experience aspects down. Just my $0.02.

Personally, I should think this is a no-brainer, yes? Did I read this right - just over 2 pounds of veal for 50 bucks??? There have been times when I've used a non-parsimonious amount of meat along with bones to make a truly rich stock; see the late, great, tragic Bernard Loiseau's "sacrificial veal", among literally centuries of tradition, as such a sybaritic use of animal flesh has a long history - but I consider my veal stock to be a deep, rich and clean stock with merely bones, aromatics, time and rigorous care(like Mirdad, I use a remouillage). On the other hand, plenty of folks forego veal stock entirely, using, say, a brown chicken stock for their workhorse carrier mother fond. See Jimmy Schmidt's entertaining story, I think it was, in Michael Ruhlman's wonderful Soul of a Chef. Basically, plenty of ways to skin a...well, plenty of ways to accomplish a culinary need (though I am almost tragically a traditionalist, and this has been the hardest thing for me to come to terms with).

That's awesome, Zacky, congrats! Looks wonderful - really chewy, yes? I found the hours of bulk ferment (with hourly folds - a gentle stretch then fold, two directions, like a puff pastry foldover), coupled with the high hydration, really oxygenates the yeast and so by the anaerobic, fermentative phase it seems the ferment truly is rocking. The only drawback for me is in not getting the prettiest grigne - but I think that might be the tradeoff with a wet dough...just can't hold the "lip" of the slashing, to get that classic toothed edge (I think the top set of photos show it pretty well - not really "ugly" hashmarks, just not that distinctive, cliff's edge lip, if I'm explaining it well enough). Anyway, glad you're getting what you're looking for. Many happy loaves! Paul