Bux

While as John notes, all hotel prices are overseen by the government, that doesn't mean an impartial inspector has gone around, evaluated the relative merits of each room and assigned a price for each room on a sliding scale. There are better and worse rooms in town at any price and the early bird gets first choice. As an example recently (in Spain, but the priciple holds) we had a reservation in a town and decided to alter our schedule and arrive a day early. We called the hotel and they were able to accommodate us, but when we arrived they said we had to take a room with twin beds, or one that was much smaller than all the rest, but for which they charged the same price as for all the other rooms. True this same hotel might not be full in September, but then again you never know. The flip side is that, especially with moderately priced rooms at lesser known hotels, you are often better able to assess what's available in town by seeing the hotels in person. Having a car at your disposal make the flip side a real advantage, but I wanted to set down the parameters. I think the main issue is whether your interest is in visiting a town or a special hotel. Obviously, if there are inns or dining rooms in which you want to eat, you need reservations for those. If I really want to eat in a multistarred restaurant, I never leave it to chance. Bras is out of town and if you're not staying at his inn, you might want to reserve someplace in town and limit the after dinner driving. I'd hate to arrive in town without a place to sleep even if Laguioule is unlikely to be booked solidly in September. Veyrat's rooms are seriously expensive and could put a dent in even a well heeled budget. There are other accommodations in town.

My two cents on a fascinating socio-gastronomic topic are that the dietary laws had nothing to do with cleanliness or health, but are, as others have pointed out, purely tribal for various reasons. I've always assumed hardship, endurance and focus were among these reasons. It would be my contention that the "health" spin arrived more recently for several reasons. Foremost among these was to allow some Jews to modify their food intake with less guilt.

John's description is fairly accurate. I don't know how much more than his name, Albert Roux lends to the restaurant--I assume the menu and recipes are his--but it's certainly nothing for anyone to be ashamed of. "Brasserie" is appropriated more than it is borrowed. The high celings are the only thing that might be reminiscent of a brasserie, but what's in a restaurant name these days. It's a rather informal place. I don't think one needs either a tie or jacket. In terms of what makes for Michelin stars, I don't know how far out of my way I'd go to eat here, but it's far better than one might expect in a hotel. Then again, I don't know London. Service was good in spite of the fact that the hotel was only open for about a month and presumably the restaurant for no longer. My guess is that service would get even better as time went on. I am not a big pig's feet on the bone sort of diner, but my wife concurred that the trotters served to John seemed to required far more effort than should be necessary to get to the meat. I should probably add that I didn't know there was any meat on a pig's foot. For all of that, and with the very gentle way in which John expressed his dissatisfaction with the dish, the fact that the dish was taken off our bill added to the feeling that the place was a class act. In general I was quite impresed with the hotel and the bar. I usually think of Sofitels as first class business hotels, but the St. James, in a recently converted classical old bank building, seemed very much a luxury boutique hotel belying its hidden conference rooms and amenities. If Brasserie Roux is not a destination restaurant, it certainly enhances the hotel.

That should be too subjective a reason to sway anyone's thinking. What you are saying is that it doesn't smell the way you want or expect it to smell. That's what creativity is all about. The interesting art doesn't always look the way art is supposed to look and the interesting music doesn't always sound the way one has been educated to expect music to sound. This is not to suggest the db Burger is anything like a high form of creativity. It's just the opposite--a tasty little bit of humor and both too tasty and too humorous to merit a serious social attack. Anyway, I assure you it smells and tastes just fine although it's hardly the best reason to visit db Bistro, in my opinion.

I suspect it is, and I suspect some people will find it appropriately creative while others will see it as hype. My jury is still out on this. In fact, I will forgive almost all abuse if the food is good, although I had hoped to hear about salmon that were fed beer and massaged.

Although an array of whimsically named 'prime cuts seems quite in keeping with current post nouvelle cuisine labeling trends I'd be curious to get some insight into what makes the bluefin tuna belly "Kobe" beef, as opposed to any other beef. Is this restaurant open already? I've not heard anything about it.

I have no experience working in a professional kitchen, but a friend recommended Anywears clogs to me for a painful heel condition I had developed some time ago. It seems these clogs are commmonly worn by surgeons and nurses and the shop in Manhattan where I got mine, does a brisk trade in them with cooks as well. They run about $39 here and are not a big investment. I don't know if these are the same clogs everyone else is referring to. Are you assigned your internship and/or can you arrange one yourself? I'd suggest this is going to be a major part of your training and anything you can do to get yourself into a great kitchen will payback many times the trouble it takes. Good luck and thanks for putting your experience online. I trust it will be an arrangement of mutual benefit.

As you note up-market moves are quite common. It's called refining. Down-market moves (making a cheap reproduction of something by using less expensive products) are usually decried by connoiseurs of the original. Once some cave guy threw some meat on the fire and his raw meat eating buddy probably accused him of going up-market with pretentious cooked food. It was all down hill from there as butchers learned how to cut meat and cooksl learned how to roast, fry, and braise various parts of the animals for effect. Nevertheless, I see nothing in Ms. Spieler's quote that supports your contention that this is a pretentious move. It was not to her taste and she also admits having a strong preconception as to what a burger should be. Having made one's mind up truly hampers appreciation of new ideas. Anyway, it's not my favorite either, but I can tell you that the experience of the burger and the short ribs with that bit of luxurious foie gras is quite a sensation in the mouth. And it's that sensation that one should use to judge Boulud's creation, not the abstract idea that lobster is alright if not consumed conspicuously or that a tiny bit of foie gras has no right consorting with ground beef on a bun. What do you say about all the foie gras that's used in raviolis. After all we've all had raviolis and know exactly what they are and should be. Don't we? John, if you discovered this dish deep in the Perigord, and were told it was an old family recipe resulting from a great grandmother's suggestion of what to do with the scraps of foie gras after the good stuff was put up for New Year's, I'll bet you'd react differently. Foie gras is a pretty common ingredient in restaurants these days and you don't expect that the very best pieces of the very best grades are stuck in these burgers do you? Give Boulud a bit of credit for not only being cleverly creative in a very honest way, but for having a good sense of humor. There's more classless joie de vivre in that burger than you suspect. I've seen some less than very sophisticated young working women sitting next to me splitting one of those burgers and relishing every bite. And for all Marlena didn't like the burger for her own reasons, she sure seemed to approve of the milieu in general.

I should add that although we drove to Cancal and had a car, we used the house shuttle service to get back and forth from the hotel to the restaurant. My guess is that les Rimains is fine as well however, especially if only expecting to stay one night. What time of year are you planning on being there?

It's difficult to keep track of Roellinger's places and I seem to recall he just opened another place to sleep or is it eat? As I understand it, Bricourt-Richeux is his Relais & Chateau main inn. Maisons de Bricourt is his Relais Gourmand gastronomic restaurant. Oddly enough the gastronomic restaurant is not in the main inn which is out of town while the restaurant is in town. His more bistro like restaurant Coquillage is in Bricourt-Richeux. I have eaten in the main restaurant and not in Coquillage, but breakfast (one of the better breakfasts I've had in France) is in the Coquillage room. To keep things complicated, Michelin lists les Rimains under the Masisons de Bricourt restaurant although it is at a separate address in town. Bricourt-Richeux is shown as a three roof inn and les Rimains is listed as a two roof spot. The least expensive room in each place is the same price, but the best room at Bricourt-Richeux is considerably more expensive than the best room at les Rimains. At Roellinger's web site I see they have a couple of shops, one in town and one outside as well as a couple of cottages to rent. The only personal information I have is that they run a shuttle service from the main hotel to the main restaurant so getting home after dinner is not an issue. We stayed at the main (Bricourt-Richeux) house and loved the place and the grounds. We had the most economical room and loved that too. It was sparsely furnished, but very bright and quite comfortable with a large tiled bathroom. Somehow I think I've noted this before.

Jinmyo - You noticed. Steve - Yes, la Régalade brought back the memory, but it's not precisely the same place as those I knew. Times change and the real ones seem to have all deteriorated. Nevertheless, Camdemborde seems to have avoided all the "retro" cliches and made an honest place--or at least it was when I was there. And yes, it is the product of a contemporary chef who knows his way around haute cuisine and the influence is probably quite discernable. It is nevertheless a place that appeals to those whose interest is in food like boudin noir. It's interesting that almost everyone mentions it. I did not have boudin noir only out of chivalry--my wife beat me to the punch ordering the shepherd's pie and I thought I'd explore more of the menu. I had some incredible kidneys. They were crusted lightly with bread crumbs and seared on the outside, but rare in the middle as I like them and I didn't make a request about how well done they should be. Graham - I suspect you may be correct about the squid ink rice as the chef is from the southwest next to the Basque region. Your comment also brings to mind the fact that for all the fine meals I've had lately, it's the arroz caldosa of Catalunya that I crave from time to time as the finer dishes from starred restaurants fade. Indeed, la Régalade is the French restaurant that best duplicates the craving I have for simple Catalan seafood dishes. Then again an arroz caldosa made from gambas in the two star Restaurant Sau Pau in Sant Pol de Mer that was quite memorable and our meal included some very creative and elegant haute cuisine as well.

Although classic terms and classic versions of dishes are dying breeds, I too would like the information abou the classic version here. Cabrales, I'm glad you enjoyed the meal largely because I've loved that restaurant and have worried about reports that it's gone downhill. I found the restaurant almost perfect for what it tries to be. It reminded me very much of the first restaurants I knew in Paris. They were unsophisticated places by Parisian standards, but to an American student, they afforded an Epiphany, not just a meal. Today these restaurants are banal, but la Régalade brought back the memory with what I found to be simple good honest rustic food very well prepared. That's a much scarcer thing in Paris today than it was in the sixties. When you say the risotto was average, do you mean average for the risottos you've had elsewhere including fine restaurants, or average for what one gets for 30 euros or dollars? Speaking of terminology, I wonder if the squid dish got its name from the strips of squid that may have been cut to resemble little eels, or if it was served in the manner that pibales are usually served. To the best of my knowledge, the traditional way of preparing and serving them is in olive oil with bits of red pepper from the Basque region.

Was the cooking class at Troisgros? Care to tell us about it--or did I miss a separate thread?

Agreed, there are expensive tourists traps and some of them have stars they no longer deserve. My problem is with the mentality that believes that if it's expensive, it's overpriced and that if it's real, it's inexpensive. When I was in college and for years afterwards, I traveled looking for the "real" Europe. I have no regrets about missing what I couldn't afford anyway. Dining in the little bistros and mom and pop restos gave me a good foundation with which to appreciate haute cuisine. I wouldn't imply that the three star places are the real stuff (although in a certain vernacular that's probably the phrase) more than the bistro, as they're both real. My bet is that the guy who runs a great bistro will also make the pilgrimage to the three star places the way the chef at the three star restaurant that's truly worthy of all three stars, probably has his favorite bistro. Then again there's probably the cook who makes a great stew worth seeking out even if his understanding of food goes no further. There are few hard and fast rules about what's worth the time, trouble or cost. If I have a fault, the jump to defend against the reverse snobism is among the prominent ones.

I am quite sure the Gascon chef, Andre Daguin (his daughter markets a fair share of the duck breasts--and foie gras--sold in NY.) gets the credit for introducing duck breast served rare as a steak. In France it's known as magret de canard or maigret de canard. More often than not these days, it's sliced and fanned out on a plate in the fancier restaurants. It's hardly a Gascon, or even French specialty any more than foie gras today. Recently I saw it listed in the English translation of several restaurants in Spain as "beefsteak of duck" and "duck entrecote." It's interesting to see how widespread the revolution has been and how many people cut up a duck and cook the different parts in different ways. In France and the NY market, it's easy enough to buy duck breasts sold separately. Oddly enough in Chinatown I can only find the legs and thighs or whole ducks. In any event, this promotes the cooking by the parts. When we cook the breast, I score the fat and cook the breasts skin side down in a pan on no more than medium heat until the fat has mostly rendered and the skin is crisp, but the meat itself has little more than warmed. Periodically, the fat is removed from the pan. The breast is flipped over and cooked briefly to the desired doneness on high heat. The thighs and legs are usually briased much like chicken in coq au vin and often with red wine, mushrooms and pancetta or bacon just like the afore mentioned classic. For us, these are two separate meals. Cooked until it is almost falling off the bone, the leg and thigh meat taken off the bone is a great sauce for pasta. Although I love Chinese roast duck, roast whole duck at home is so passe that it's well worth bringing back. It can be delcious if you don't have that craving for the rare breast. On the whole however, I used to prefer braised duck, or one roasted in a covered casserole, to one roasted in the oven. A slow cooking in a covered casserole will allow the fat to render itself and have the meat very juicy and rich. Remember to remove the fat from the top of the pot liquids before reducing the juices for sauce. The two classic French recipes for braised duck are with peas, or olives. One of the best duck breasts I've had was "poached" in duck fat at reasonable low temperature so that it was evenly rare, but of an incredible texture. This is nothing like confit. I'm not sure who gets credit for this way of cooking, possibly Keller or someone in France--an expert voice might interject the culprit. Blue Hill does this with their duck breast. I believe the salmon is similarly prepared and well worth experiencing.

I've never thought twice about the type of top or cap on a bottle of spirits be it rum, brandy, eau-de-vie or whiskey.

I think I mentioned earlier in another thread that I think these are not only two of the most talented chefs working in NY right now, but two of the absolutely nicest guys. Of course it's well worth mentioning again if only because Mike reads here.

Don't they always. I haven't been to le Chantelcler since Le Stanc cooked there and have no comment other to say that Michelin awards it two stars, but I'm amused that destination restaurants are so often referred to as "for the tourists." Hell, multistarred restaurants are not so much for the tourists as they are the reason people visit in the first place. Of course Nice is town of hotels and tourists as much as anything else.

L'Esguard is worth the trip or detour from Barcelona. As noted above, we chose to dine there and a few opther places in the area from a base outside Barcelona. I think it can be done either way, especially as it's probably accessible by rail and taxi. I wanted to avoid driving in and out of Barcelona as much as possible. L'Esguard is one of the better, or more accurately one of the best one star restaurants I've been drawn to. One star restaurants, even (particularly?) in France can be chancy. L'Esguard is one star in the same way that l'Astrance is. Once again, there's a rich cluster of stars in Catalunya and some interesting food. Oddly enough for all my search for interesting food, some of the traditional dishes in unstarred restaurants are formost in my mind upon our return. I don't discount the possibility that the creative meals worked as the perfect foil for the simple ones. Perhaps it's useful for me to start some new threads on this.

Define "natural." I don't know about whatever, but guar gum, for intstance, is a natual fiber. Normally in commercial products, I find gum stabilizers produce a less satisfactory mouth feel in ice creams and sorbets, but no, I'm not particularly concerned. I'm also more inclined to understand the addition of a substance that improves the flavor, or texture, than I am for one that improves the color. Bad? I didn't say bad, I just implied my expectations were different. Assuming their expectations. I'll happily consider eating your pistachio creme brulee. I assume you'll give me the chance to sample it both with, and without, food coloring. May I suggest a blind tasting? In truth, I often avoid foods I find surreal looking. Thus I will blindly order and enjoy a pistachio dessert no matter what color arrives, but I find that if I see it first, I will not order it if it's "green."

The relationship between an inability to get an reservation and not eating at a restaurant is a direct one. I've long come to the conclusion that prime time reservations are rarely given to non-regulars at the most exclusive restaurants in town, whether or not they grease palms. As the Times article makes clear, restaurants are dependent on a regular clientele to such a degree that they must bend over backwards to please anyone they recognize as a regular. Shaw in other threads has noted that the best way to improve your meals is to make yourself known to the staff, to make yourself appear to be a regular, or a potential regular. A first time caller will rarely get a table at eight o'clock at a top restaurant on a Saturday night, except in August. The problem is more complex than just the fact that regulars (or big tippers) are getting first crack at the tables. Most tables may not have an eight o'clock reservation as restaurants expect to reuse that table and may only offer 6:00 or 9:00 reservations at many tables. But I did mention the maitre d' problem as being critical from a public perspective. I just don't think that and the green dye are enough of a problem together to override the rest of the seemingly positive points. The Times review indicates that those looking for the dirt they expect to find will be disappointed. Those who now eat there are not likely to be put off. Those who never thought of eating there will probably not read the book. That leaves those who are thinking about Daniel or just getting the interest or money to dine at plush restaurants.

NB: I'm speaking only to the Times review and what's been posted here and not to the quality of the writing. I suspect Klc is correct about Daniel not needing any help, but I'm curious about what appeared in the Times review that would indicate the book wouldn't help him. I agree about the green dye. It was one of the things I always had to sweep under the rug of my mind. It remains the only intolerable thing about the cooking for me. Well, alomst intolerable--I'd still eat the soup. Maitre d'hotel Bruno Jamais (and of course you always thought "Never" was the name of the guy who wouldn't give you the reservation anyway) seems to be the only one who's criticised from a public viewpoint, but he's at ADNY now as far as I know. I was interested in seeing the comparison to Bourdain's Kitchen Confidential in the review because I always felt the book was seen as a blanket picture of all restaurant kitchens and my impression was that what appears in Kitchen Confidential is in no way reflective of life in a top French haute cuisine restaurant whether in France or NYC. As Leslie Brenner seems to have set the record straight, I would find her book worthwhile on that score alone. Although neither my daughter or son-in-law currently work in the Daniel Kitchen, as mentioned earlier, both did at some time when Ms. Brenner was writing her book. This, and the fact that I set up Daniel's web site, gave me some access to the kitchens at various times. Cooks may have found life politically incorrect and discipline somewhat to the right of military discipline, but it was patterned after the traditional French kitchens. If nothing else, the cleanliness was as obsessive as the quest for culinary perfection and the cooks were as professional in their work as anyone one else you'd likely be doing business with during the day.

Handwriting on the plate seems another case of food following the visual fine arts.

So does mine, but my curiosity drives me more than my palate at times. I write this in particular reaction to being in Catalunya right now where I´m torn between the ultra creative and the traditional.

We're not exactly sure how they arrived at those "wafers." I think they were listed as salad of crusty pig´s feet. Forgive my translations, I´m not so good at Spanish and worse yet at Catalan. My guess is that they made some sort of jelled mold of everything scraped off the bones together with some onions. I´d further guess that this was frozen and sliced very thinly (almost paper thin) and the slices deep fried quickly. Esilda thinks they may have been slowly dried in the oven. In either case they were like (American) chips. The closest taste we can offer as an example might be pork rinds. L'Olive was actually a fairly upscale place a few blocks northwest of the placa Catalunya. Upscale in decor and ambience. The total cost of dinner ran about $85 with a nice bottle of Albet i Noya bio chardonnay. Portions were rather huge. Wish it was in my neighborhood.