Bux

There's a whole new generation of chefs out there asking and answering these questions about chemical reactions and the physics of cuisine. In pastry they seem to be centered around Barcelona, but they exist here in the US and you'll find some of them answering your questions here, starting with, but not limited to, our own moderators of this forum.

And waning powers seem to spend too much of their energy defending their reputation rather than rebuilding it.

Whatever his conclusions, the article was not exactly news. A good part of it could have been fictionalized by extrapolating from many of the posts I, as well as others, have made here on eGullet. I've surely mentioned the charming place in Gascony my wife wanted us to rent for a few weeks or a month. She enticed me with the idea that I could booze with the locals at a cafe in the town and practice my French. The pity was, as lovely as our landlady might have been, all of the local food merchants in town had closed after the opening of a supermarket off a highway out of town. Consequently, with little traffic in town, the cafe closed as well. Shopping would have been by car. What a pity for the tourists that France, it's life and economy, are connected to the international grid. When I was a young boy growing up in Brooklyn, USA, my father trafficked in produce. From time to time I would accompany him on visits to local farms in NYC. The closest one was just inside the Brooklyn-Queens border. I have memories of sweet fresh tomatoes I picked in the field and ate standing among the tomato vines as tall as I was. It's long gone as are most of the farms in Nassau county two counties away from Brooklyn. My aunt and uncle bought into a new community that was never a town and would never be one, but had replaced one of my favorite farms in Nassau country. The world is a different place, more surprising than that France has changed, is that Spain has changed so much less. So I enjoy some things there that remind me of what I've lost in France, but that too will change soon and the counntryside of Spain has always been less rich in the amenities Wilmott needed. As Jonathan mentions, one of the upsides is that the large hypermarches I've visited in France, have space for artisanal products, ham that is sliced to order and local artisanal cheeses that will never make it to the US, but which may also be doomed in France, by EU decree. Mort Rosenblum spelled it out with a better evenness in A Goose in Toulouse.

Thank you for that. We've just been told they can't accomodate us for Lunch on Saturday and I was wondering if we should try to pull some strings, try to change another reservation, attempt two grand meals in rapid succession or choose an less well known up and coming restaurant. Unfortunately, our schedule is pretty tight and while Berasategui is very high on our list of places to go, it's also the last restaurant in the area in which we've dined and in that way, expendable in spite of being one I would have on my "don't miss" list when advising others from my experience.

I tend to agree with your thoughts on the texture of vegetables. As noted above, I will be surprised if I become a fan of canned white asparagus, but my curiosity has been piqued enough by expert testimony here, that I won't rest until I've had the chance to have some in spite of a recurring nightmare that I am in a very fine Basque restaurant and having told the waiter that I want some of his very best canned asparagus, I am thrown out on my ear and told we serve nothing but fresh seasonal produce. I'm curious about how you served the canned piquillo peppers you've had in NY. Bar none, the best stuffed piquillo peppers I've had were prepared at Cafe Boulud, when it was Daniel Boulud's sole restaurant before Daniel reopened. They were not a traditional Basque or Spanish recipe, but an original dish based on Basque flavors and ingredients. The stuffed pepper was paired with a stuffed squid of about the same size. I was rather shocked to be told the peppers were imported in cans, when I commented that we couldn't find peppers like this in the greengrocers. Not only did I find it hard to believe they would used canned peppers, but I didn't find the texture very different from the stuffed piquillos we had in the Basque region on either side of the Pyrenees. Now that I'm told that Basque chefs use canned piquillos as well, I understand that better. In the late summer, like right now, we often roast red bell peppers. Most often we use them in appetizers combined with anchovies, olives, fresh mozzarella, etc., but sometimes we use them in cooked dishes and I find that cooking them to a meltingly velvet consistency can make them quite wonderful to eat as a granish. A stuffed roasted pepper is a different thing than a stuffed pepper.

I find this a reasonable position and so well supported by the rest of the post, that I'm inclined to suspect I will share his opinion even after I get to taste the best examples of canned asparagus. In addition to having had first hand experience with both types of asparagus, Lord Michael Lewis goes on to convince me that he is well aware that the techniques used to preserve certain food stuffs, often improve the taste and quality. What's missing from this post, and it's absence contributes to the strength of the opinion in my view, is any comment on the validity of other opinions. eGullet is a more valuable place when opinions can be accepted as opinions and not argued as fact.

Is la Grande Epicerie the one on the ground floor of Bon Marché? I've always thought highly of it, although I've had little reason to shop there. I seem to recall someone telling me how much he thought it was overrated--or did I read that here. I sometimes wonder if most of what I think I know about food has come from eGullet. Anyway, without ever having a kitchen in Paris, we've had no use for, what is essentially, a supermarket with the exception of a few snacks and souvenirs, but when we've used it for that, my head is always turned as I walk the aisles. We've stayed in the area a few times and I rather like it. I didn't realize Cuisine du Bar was owned by Poilane. I've often recommeded it to friends and others as a great place for a quick light snack lunch. For someone like myself, whose idea of Paris is stuck in time, it's a most un-French-like place, but very good for being a very French version of an un-French-like place. Then again Pain Poilane is very un-French bread to my generation and a vast improvement on what we thought was great bread. There's also a decent wine bar on Cherche-Midi across Rasphail. Le Nemrod serves a good selection of beaujolais en carafe. The food is so-so, but the sausage with aligot potatoes is worth having. Not the best, but it's a local place and we've met friends who live in the neighborhood there. I think the fresh things Fauchon makes themselves are generally good. They used to have great pastries when Hermé was there. I suppose they are still good, but the bar's been raised a few times in Paris in recent years. My guess is that you want to hit Pierre Hermé's shop on rue Bonaparte if pastry excites you, but there are so many others as Lou has begun to name.

Then we're in agreement on this. One of the things that's long bothered me about Puerto Rican cooking is how both home and restaurant cooks take a perfectly good and deeply seasoned chicken and rice dish, and garnish it off with canned "petit pois" and asparagus. My wife has improved the traditional recipe by simply omitting the canned vegetables, but it's not dawned on the rest of the population that they're degrading the dish with the garnish. Is it simply a matter of a learned preference and can anyone prove which is actually better? Are the canned white asparagus from Navarra simply a learned taste and if so, is it any differnet from caviar? Is it possible that the tinned asparagus are, like tinned tuna fish, a different thing from the fresh raw asparagus. If I lived in Puerto Rico long enough, would I develop a taste for arroz con pollo the way it's garnished there? I suspect not and all of my gastronomic experience tells me I will not like canned white asparagus at first taste, nor will I develop a taste for it in preference to fresh green or white asparagus. None of that however, leaves me willing to dismiss the possibility, especially in light of this thread. And that I believe, addresses the issue Gerry raised with his question. I don't understand why people dismiss things they haven't experienced, and feel comfortable discussing their dismissal in public in the face of testimony from those who have the experience. In the end, I really don't care what Victor likes, or what 99% of the people would believe, but I'm not about to dismiss the opinion of those with the experience I lack, as much as my prejudices incline me to do so. I think another reason people leave threads is when the voice of inexperience challenges the voice of experience.

Why? I suspect it's because threads deteriorate quickly when certain things happen. One of those things is an attempt to differentiate between a word a poster used and a synonym used in a reply. Absolutes also work well at times to subvert a thread, especially when one insists on defending an opinion based on a lack of knowledge. I share your prejudice against tinned vegetables and to a certain extent even against tinned seafood, but I've learned by experience that certain canned fish and seafood is not only acceptable, but a desireable part of my culinary experience. Canned tuna fish is never as good as fresh tuna, except when it's better. For all the nouveau rare fresh tuna nicioses I've had, none compare to a real salade nicoise on the Riviera. Can I just point out that a statement that implies that tinned asparagus can never be as good as fresh asparagus, when made by someone who's admittedly never had top quality canned white asparagus is not going to hold as much weight, even on the Internet, as one that says I've just tried the best available tinned white asparagus and that in my opinion it's not as good as the best fresh asparagus? A refusal to consider a possibility is not evidence it's unreasonable. In terms of this thread, it's all the more pointed as we've just had rather professional authorities tell us that Alain Ducasse and Daniel Boulud perfer canned piquillos. Certainly that should make a reasonable man consider that there just might be one other vegetable in the world that might come off quite well canned. Of course I'm not saying you're unreasonable, it's just that all those other posters haven't presented the proper argument.

Too late! It was reviewed in yesterday's NY Times. Grimes gave it 1 star. Surely Grimes is not seen as that tough or that far off the mark, where one star will pack the restaurant.

Michael Lewis' post makes sense. I also associate the preparation with a terra cotta dish. Perhaps it's served in the dish in which it is cooked. Whatever it's origins, the term pil-pil seems to have taken on an international useage that's sure to annoy purists. My guess is that most people outside Spain and maybe even outside the Pais Vasco, think of hot peppers more than olive oil when they hear pil-pil. That I have some association with this dish as French preparation as much as a Spanish one may be due to the fact that several of the Basque provinces are in France and there's a cultural and culinary tradition that crosses the border. It's also that I have more experience dining in France than Spain. For all the links I found on Google for pil pil in recipes, menus and restaurant mentions, I didn't run across anything about it's origins. I also associate fish cooked with red peppers, onions and lots of paprika and olive oil with Galician cuisine.

La Carta de Ronnie's Restaurant, Puerto Banus, Marbella lists Gambas Pil-Pil for 10 euros. A quick look at the menu leads me to suspect Ronnie is Italian via Argentina. Bar "El Chismo" in Álora, Malaga also advertises "Especialidades: gambas al pil-pi" on SUR Digital (Restaurantes). In fact "al pil pil pops up from time to time on Malaga/Marbella area and Andalucian restaurant menus. It must be in response to the tourism (he says only half joking) and probably a better direction than the ubiquitous paella. There are lots of recipes for gambas al pil pil on the net. Granted they all seem to be published in English, Danish, Norwegian or German, although I've found Gambas al pil-pil (Genuinas) from what seems to be Chile. My question here would be where does "pil=pil," which I've also seen in France, originate and doesn't it imply the use of hot red pepper. I associate it with the use of Piments d'Espelette in France and have thought of it as a preparation of Basque origin, but without any real thought.

"Aliments" is a broader term than fresh_a's "produce," but essentially there's no importance to that in terms of what Ducasse is saying, or so I believe. Adria's food (and so much has been written about it here on eGullet as well as in the press, that I don't think it's very good for me to try and summarize it here) is not at all like what Vongerichten used to do. For one thing, I don't have the impression that Adria is very concerned about seasonal produce.

The online English version appears to be rather condensed. My reaction is the same. France is seeing alltime highs in cuisine. The western world is seeing all time highs in cuisine, but today the peaks are no longer exclusively in France, not perhaps not even predominantly.

Tradition has its down side as well as its benefits. For all that, I wouldn't spend too much time analyzing this interview. I don't know what else Gagnaire could have done under the cirucumstances, except to support the troops. It was his duty and he did it.

Ayreshire cure? I'm not even aware we had Ayreshire disease.

Let's not bury France just yet, Hauts de La Loire and the near by Lion d'Or were the site of two of our best meals last year, right up with two star restaurants in Spain.

It sounds like a great trip. We were in the area in the Spring of last year. What rings true to me was that you were excited by both the traditional restaurants and the creative ones and that there was really good food to be found across the price scale. What also comes though is the range of foods to be found even in the traditional restaurants. As I recall, Hispania had a pretty large menu. We were hard put to eliminate enough choices to even begin to work within a narrow range. I wanted to throw up my hands and just say feed us. In fact, I think to a certain extent we did that, by asking bout specialties and then ordering whatever was recommended. Of course if we didn't say stop, the hostess (owner?) might have recommeded the whole menu.

I've just received advertising from a wholesale French charcuterie in San Francisco. They offer a poitrine roulée which they translate as "rolled bacon (pancetta)." I have no idea if this is a typical French product, or even one that could be found in France and I am still of the opinion that bacon is smoked and pancetta is not. The more I learn, the less I know somedays. A good aged cured ham (jambon de pays) should substitute well for prosciutto. A good serrano or iberico ham might even be an improvement. Ventreche is belly, is it not. I have seen ventreche de thon--tuna belly--in France. In a butcher shop or charcuterie, does the term imply cured pork belly. In any event, would not lardons come from a ventreche?

I would certainly agree with the last sentence--"We are perhaps seeing the epitome of culinary art."--but "we" in my book would be a much larger community than France and it appears as if Gagnaire is trying to support France here. On the other hand, a perfectly good argument could be made that this is the greatest culinary period in French history, but that the bar for culinary achievement has been raised all over the world. There was a time when a return from a trip to France was a traumatic experience for a New Yorker. It no longer is. Professional cooking has achieved a status in many parts of the western world, that had heretofore been reserved for French restaurants. French cooking has lost its monopoly and "trained in France" no longer has the cachet it once had. At the moment, Spain appears to be the dynamic leader, but as Catalunya and the Pais Vasco joust for attention, the center of interest in Spain could easily move south or west and the center of international interest could move again. I'm not sure what he finds as proof of vitality, but Gagnaire's need to defend French cuisine appears to have manifested itself as a media event. Understand that I am a fan of Gagnaire's cooking and returned to dine in his restaurant in spite of the fact that the desserts I had the first time were brutally unseductive.

Could it be that they just don't take reservations for parties of less than seven diners? For your sake, I'm trying put a better spin on this, but the next time I get to Barcelona, I know I will be trying to reserve for no more than four, and two is more likely, so keep us informed.

Viking, I'm glad to read your comments because as I said, respected restaurants in NYC have been using canned or jarred piquillos pepper in some dishes. I have a small (150 gram) tin of piquillos I purchased in Spain last spring and which I have not yet opened. I am not surprised to learn it's not one of the better brands. It was the most expensive brand on the shelf, but the shelf was in a rather ordinary supermarket in Sevilla. I will look for Conservas de Lodosa when we are in Donastia and the area next month. Our travels south of Donastia should probably take us close to Lodosa in fact.

Who's watching the stoves?

Galicia is an interesting part of Spain that doesn't get that many non Spanish tourists--with the exception of Santiago de Compostela, which of course, has hosted foreign pilgrims for hundreds of years. The stuffed piquillos I had in Ainhoa were also served in a light sauce that may have been a reduced poultry stock, or maybe a seafood stock, but a light one. The brandades I've made have all be a combination of salt cod, potato, garlic, cream or milk and olive oil. Do you remember the origin of the one with pine nuts? Do you recall if it was a traditional recipe or a modern one?

I've always enjoyed being able to tell a waiter I have no food alergies and no intense dislikes, but if this keeps up, I may have to mention pop rocks. Sorry, the first time they appeared unheralded, I felt as if someone was poking me in the eyes, ears and nose--but from inside. The second time, they seemed to be more delicately used, but still unappreciated.