Bux

Right. I forgot to mention that.

Yes, it's that you can't allow the French to define what's best in cuisine any more. A charge that the French don't recognize great food when they see it, can't be answered by looking to the Michelin ratings. I've been in one star Spanish restaurants that compete favorably in terms of cuisine with two star restaurants in France. The charge has already been made that Michelin's ratings in Spain are not on par with those in France. It seems to take much longer for a restaurant in Spain to get attention in Michelin. It's not just nationalism, it's the conseravtism and taste of Michelin and Derek Brown that may not be serving us well. Some users may be vulnerable to charges they have a vested interest, or that their personal tastes lead them to prefer dining in Spain, but I, Robert Brown and possibly paulbrussel, arrived in Spain with prejudices for French food, but now find Spain exciting and satisfying. It's also not something that can be quantified. There's a movement, not in the sense of style, but of curiosity about food, that's afoot in Spain and its drawing international focus in as many ways as France is losing that focus. The numbers of 3 star restaurants wouldn't count, even if they were an accurate portrayal of what's there. France is hardly dead, nor is it dying, but the article in Libération, gives us a glimpse of a defensiveness, that doesn't send a healthy signal. Gagnaire speaks of the Lubow article in terms of being its being a superficial description of French cuisine. Perhaps it is, but that's not what I want to read after the interviewer opens with a misleading paragraph about the Lubow article that's full of factual errors as well as misinterpretation. For starters, Arthur Lubow is not the influential food critic of the NY Times. He's a freelance writer who sometimes writes about food. Whether anyone agrees with Christophe Alix, that Lubow delivered a complete assessment of French cuisine in that article is perhaps subject to opinion, but my opinion was that it was neither complete, nor meant to appear as such. There's enough in Lubow's article to incite defenders of the French faith without Alix's exaggeration. It's interesting that Gagnaire defends French cooking by focusing on the need for the "yum yum" effect. (Miam-miam are Gagnaire's words and "yum-yum" is the immediate translation given me by two people, one of them a French born chef.) I mentioned desserts Gagnaire has served that brought vinegar and aluminum to my mind which were inedible as an intellectual experience and I remain a fan of Gagnaire's cooking. Many however fault him for the lack of "yum-yum" in his food. Gagnaire's answers aren't all that bad, but they are also superficial, make reference to token chefs, and end on the assumption that Adria's followers will not have his talent. They probably won't. Time will tell, but in my brief travels, I've already encountered a few young chefs who are not blindly following Adria. I don't know who or what they're following, but they're thinking and cooking some tasty food. Thus I have no reason to believe the trend in Spain is anything by just beginning.

Why not just share your thoughts about the meal with your peers here? I enjoyed reading about your meal as La Prévôté. Although the chance of being overwhelmed by tobacco smoke at a dining table in France varies, we've been finding that, on the whole, the better the restaurant, the less smoke. There are exceptions and there are three star restaurants that push the sale of cigars after dinner. There are also restaurant such as Michel Bras where there is a table tent with a message inviting diners to reseve the pleasures of tobacco for the salon for the well being of the other guests. When, at the end of the meal, we were asked if we wanted to take our coffee in the salon, we smiled and said we'd continue to enjoy the smoke free dining room for coffee.

Can't remember when we last cooked a whole duck, but it would have been slowly braised so the fat melted and meat was succulent. We would have probably braised it and served it with peas, but that was so long ago. Nowadays, it's either duck breast rare and just about exactly as Ruth does it, with the exception that I rarely use fruit in the saucing. Ruth is right on the mark with the leg and thigh suggestions as well. When we seemed to have more time for cooking, we used to buy more whole ducks. Have the breasts rare, combine the thigh and leg meat with pork and pork fat and maybe some duck hearts and gizzards and make sausages, pates and rillettes. When we buy a whole duck these days, it's already cooked at the Chinese butcher shop and we have him cut it up Chinese style. It's pretty fatty, but I've developed a taste for more of the fat than Mrs. B. At any rate, a whole duck these days means we have no time to cook.

In NYC, ducks are easy enough to find whole or cut up. Chinatown is where one can find legs and thighs, but they never have breasts. Many other butchers in the city have breasts, but rarely thighs and legs. Nevertheless, I don't believe these are from the same ducks. Go figure. Duck is more expensive than chicken and free range ducks and chickens are more expensive than factory raised ones. Ducks are also even more expensive than chicken when you consider they have less meat and more bone and fat per pound. Regardless, they are worth the difference in price, although I like a varied diet. Scallops are more expensive than squid. I don't know that I like scallops more than squid, but I eat both. We all need to do that once in a while. Some more often than others. Duck fat has far less saturated fats than most animal fats. It may be closer to olive oil than to lard or butter in that regard.I once had a sauce similar to bearnaise, where the butter was replace with goose fat. It was quite delicious and certainly healthier and no less digestible. Admittedly it didn't sound appetizing, but I ordered it anyway after the chef had described the sauce, as he made it sound reasonable and was a highly respected chef in an area of France known for it's ducks and geese. I like to listen to my inner "Try it, you'll like it" voice.

This is, as you are no doubt well aware having lived the experience, a somewhat mind numbing epic. The knowledge that you're still alive and possibly even in good health, lends an air of incredibility to the tale--that, and the fact that the mare in Mongolia part I, didn't seem to be a mare, (there's a natural reluctance on my part to reference that sort of thing to anyone who might have actually ingested the milk, but I'm a city boy who tends to stay away from the nether regions of all four footed animals, so what do I know). My question here is to ask if the hair and fur might not serve as a form of roughage in a diet so lacking in fruits and vegetables.

I seem to recall a scuppernong wine, but I can't tell you much about it, other than that I believe it generally sells well on skid row. I assume these are grapes or maybe they just looked enough like grapes to give someone the idea of making wine out of the juice. I hope their highest calling is not as wine.

I've heard that about sheep's eyes, but I've had the misfortune of always being the guest in countries where the head is removed before the sheep is plated. I hope we don't see a thread on "Americans don't eat sheep eyes."

Robert, Have you tried using the German railway site? Esilda is generally happy with the SNCF site, but agrees that it falls short when you have to make connections, especially if those connections are outside of France. For more complex routing in Europe, she likes the German site. We just reserved and bought our tickets for a Paris-Biarritz trip on the French railway site. We paid by credit card and downloaded a PDF file which we printed. I'm not sure if this is what we have to show, or if we have to exchange it for a ticket in Paris, but after Margaret's advice, I think we'll print up several copies and put one in each pocket.

As much as American taste in food has improved over the years and as much as American chefs and restaurants have improved over the years, this thread may explain as much as anything else why I'd rather be in France, Italy or Spain when it's time for dinner. Many of you understand that duck is just delicious and that dark meat has more taste than white meat poultry. That doesn't mean white meat can't be delicate and delicious--the French prize a good supreme of prime white breast as much as anything else--but we still have such a narrow zest for good food here. In terms of saturated fat, duck and goose fat is much closer to olive oil than it is to lard, bacon, butter, etc. I like most of the fat removed or melted off my duck, but I can enjoy a nice layer of it on a Chinese roast duck from time to time. It tastes good.

I've had a gewurztraminer from Lenz on Long Island (NY) that was pretty nice and inexpensive. No competition for an Alsatian wine probably not even at the same price, but I was pleasantly surprised.

It appears that Gagnaire has become the spokesman for the defense of la cuisine francaise. On the web page of Liberation.fr, Le chef Pierre Gagnaire prend la défense de la gastronomie française, mise en cause par un critique du New York Times. This interview is dated 05 September 2003. It is, of course, in French.

I don't know that it makes you weird, but it makes you not a fan of pastry. The last thing I want a pastry che,f who's capable of making an excellent short crust and pastry cream, to do, is to make a tarte with anything but the best possible fruit.

www.viamichelin.com suggests the quickest route between Clermont-Ferrand and Laguiol is 100 miles and can be done in two hours.

Yes of course I'm teasing the French, but you know it's really not so far off the mark. At that same salon du chocolat, where we saw Klc, Philippe Conticini and Albert Adria do their demo, we also had a taste of a marvelous rillets de lièvre au chcoolat (or was it cacao?) and ate sandwiches of foie gras (mousse or pate) onion marmelade and chocoate, on a baguette. Last year we had an incredible braised hare at the Lion d'Or in Romorantin that has captured a spot in my memory like few other dishes. I distinctly remember the shards of dark bitter chocolate sticking up out of the dark sauce (probably thickened with blood) when the dish arrived. The amount of chocolate in evidence was scary. It was mentioned on the menu, but I assumed it would be a delicate nuance and it appeared as if Didier Clément had gone off the deep end. I wanted to eat quickly before the chocolate melted and overpowered the sauce, but I found it all sublime and when that plate was removed from the table, it could have been confused with a clean plate. Bitter chocolate has a long history in savory dishes in Mexico. I don't know if Clément's recipe has a French precident, but oddly enough, there was nothing shocking about it. It arrived with the conviction of the most traditional dish in all of France and was as deeply satisfying as any comfort food. I am very excited by what is hapening in Spain and my interest in next month's visit to Paris and Donostia is largely focused on Spain because of the newsness for me, but I'm not ready to count out the French genius which may survive well after our palates tire of new things everyday.

Just don't call me late for dinner.

I'm sorry we never did get to see another post from Simon. I had one long e-mail from him in the interim, but he asked me not to post it on eGullet as it was a rough draft a post he intended to make later. Unfortunately it appears as if he never had the chance to do that. Those who enjoyed his first post may be happy to know that I just got a short update from him. Those who never got to read that first post, may be happy to have that articulate post brought to the fore. Once more, I will attempt to prevail upon Simon to post, but this time about his experience at Santi Santamaria's restaurant in Catalunya and on the Spain forum.

I assume a healthy cookbook is one that is selling well. On the other hand, if you're looking for a cookbook that meets accepted dieticians' definitions of health food, well bear in mind that Alsace is best known for choucroute served with lots of fatty pork, fresh, cured and smoked.

It's a simple place. I've tended to stick with the fresh home made (on an Italian pasta machine--hence the restaurant name?) noodles in soup. In truth, it's been a while since I've been there because of a few places closer to home that have opened in the past year or so. It used to be a favorite reliable lunch soup place for things like seafood noodle soup, pork and black mushroom noodle soup and the aforementioned noodles with Peking Sauce.

Make up your mind. Which is it?

I'd be interested in hearing more about Dutournier's new restaurant. Any idea of the opening date and the type of restaurant? I'd guess a bistro with more traditional southwestern cooking.

I like the "Yet." Our own Steve Klc does a nice thing with foie gras and ice wine or sauternes gelée in cocolate cups. He did them at the salon du chocolate in Paris a couple of years back. I thought they'd be the rage all over Paris by now.

I've always thought the Hallo Berlin wurst cart on 54th off Fifth was one of the better street food offerings in NY, but I have to admit that eating in one of the Hallo Berlin restaurants was definitely not an improvement over eating on the street or carrying it over to the park. Then again, they had beer.

Interesting, as Marco Polo Noodle shop on Baxter also serves rice casseroles that sound similar.

My guess is that if one doesn't experience it as soap, one won't understand it. I seem to recall thinking it was an alien taste and don't think I took to it right away, but now I'll happily munch on a spring or two and will generally reach for the spring that decorates or garnishes a dish in a Chinese restaurant. Of course my wife uses it a lot to cook Puerto Rican dishes and I've had a long time to develop a lining for the flavor. Even when it was an alien taste, I don't recall thinking it tasted like soap. Do all soaps taste alike? I don't eat much soap. I do have some memory of soap taste and I think it comes from bathwater as a young child.