tanabutler

Robyn, I completely and utterly disagree. In fact, I could not disagree more if you paid me--and I promise this is not about polarizing myself to you--I am trying to figure your comment out. Meanwhile, under no circumstances could I disagree more, all things being equal, and we're spending Jeff's money here for a singular experience. (Jeff, you don't mind, right?) I have not had Jeff's good fortune to have innumerable chef's tastings, but at those times a chef of such talent as David Kinch, Michael Anthony, Dan Barber, or Hemant Mathur have sent something to my table to taste, I opened my mouth to the experience. There are many things I quote "don't like," among them okra and olives and liver and lamb. (Feel free to comment on what I already know is a genetic deficiency, the professed dislike of olives. I apologize. Abjectly. Sincerely.) Hemant's okra is one of the first things I would order in his new restaurant (when he gets a new restaurant, and I hope I hear news on that soon). He made okra as I'd never had it before. Gone, the bane of phlegm. This okra was crisp and light and aromatic and a sensory experience that erased "okra" from the definition accumulated in my brain. David Kinch sent olives to my table, not having heard me decline the choice of olive bread because I cannot stand the rubbery feel of them in my mouth. Like saline tires. Only I was wrong. WRONG. I'd never had those olives. I was wrong. I don't dislike olives, I dislike BAD olives. The olives I love are apparently Kalamatas. Ordering what's safe and comfortable because you "know you like it"? What was it Alton Brown said? "Oh, and I'd never, ever put a show in front of a focus group....ever." A focus group is a group of people who prefer to watch things familiar to them. You know, because they don't have to think. They would probably prefer not to. Maybe this is a good thing. Maybe it's enough just to enjoy life, without ever having to wonder if I'm missing something by not eating olives. I don't have an answer to that, not even to myself. I often say, of good food, "it makes your mouth think." What I truly treasure about Jeff's posts is that he lets his mouth think. He tries new things, openly and with abandon. He's not harsh: he's open-minded (hmmmm, maybe openness is the key here), and he's very good at describing why tastes do or don't work. He's analyzing the architecture. I might go so far as to posit a theory: open heart, open mind, open mouth. "Open mouth" as in "open your mouth and close your eyes, and I will give you a nice surprise." And Jeff's trusting enough to do that, because he's willing to trust these chefs who send out their art. Their art isn't safe. It's not like, "Oh, gee, can I cook another piece of salmon? I hope I don't blow it!" It's more like an intimate portrait: the whole thing is elaborate and a risk, and incredibly detailed. Far more detailed than I have either the education or imagination to comprehend. It's more like a gallery than a meal. Walk through this room. Taste. Now, follow into here. Taste. Wow. And for that reason, if a chef has a good buzz—not from the trendies in the sheeplike focus groups, whose collective patellas are poised for reaction from the rubber hammer of corporations—but from other chefs and cooks and people who aren't afraid to try something new, even if it's weird...well, that's art. It works or it doesn't work. I don't see Jeff, or the Iron Chef judges, deducting points because they dared to eat a dish because "I Don't Like It." Jeff is open. And he's even more open to go to the lengths he does to write all this stuff up. Elsethread, SKinCA (Stephanie from the Sur La Table, where I took David Kinch's cooking class) said she didn't want to take notes while she ate, which wouldn't be pleasant for her. I understand that. I also think that Jeff and I perhaps share a common value: I feel I am honoring the food and the chef and the journey more if I take the time to chronicle it. (For all I know, we shared a past life in a monastery, illuminating texts.) He's got the tools and the means to choose things he considers worthy of his time. He went to the Varsity, so he's clearly not someone who can't get his hands dirty on food. The bottom line is, "How do you know you don't like it until you try it?" I ask that to five-year-olds, and not one of them has been able to stop me from giving them a taste. I asked that question to my ex's little boy, who said, "I don't like 'skin chicken,' Tana." I told him I'd never fed him anything he didn't like, and that I knew a different way to make it. It tastes good to me, so try it. He did. And his most requested thing to cook with me when he comes over? He can't decide between "skin chicken" (roasted chicken with herb crust) or chicken marinated in lemons and olive oil. On the other hand, Robyn, I am trying to get inside your brain and wonder.... If I were on a really limited budget, I'd probably play it safe and order à la carte. On the other hand, I wouldn't go to a place where the chef is brave and gifted enough to offer a chef's tasting if I were that concerned with money. I did have to play it kind of tight recently at Manresa. I don't have the luxury, frankly, but considered it a good investment in every way. I did some ordering off the tapas (cheaper) menu, because I did have to think about money, and also because I wanted to experience the gamut from humble to luxe. I'm happy Jeff was game enough to experience the discomfort of accepting a chocolate dish, and to state that chocolate generally doesn't flip his skirt (so to speak). He still wrote about it well, and I (who have loved chocolate far too much and less well since I've discovered the rapture of fruit desserts, prepared by the artists it's been my good fortune to encounter at farm dinners) am thankful that he exhibited open heart, open eyes, open mind and open mouth. As we all know, "open wallet" is the price he paid. Even with his grading on the curve, Jeff got relentless bang for his buck, if only in good karma bonus points for taking the time to craft his experience so that we could watch his shoulder and wish we were there, even for the bad times.

It looks like a Ronde de Nice hybrid, lovebenton0. Ronde de Nice are usually round, but they have those markings. Ronde de Nice seed package from Renee's Garden. P.S., Ronde de Nice are wonderful, if you can grow them. They've got a slight hint of vanilla in their taste. Very faint, but especially flavorful with herbs.

And the survey says: SAN FRANCISCO BAY AREA. Unparalled in the United States for culinary/cultural/aesthetic/entertainment opportunities and more. The scenery is gorgeous, and foodwise, well, it's Eden out here. Branch out. Spend a night in Monterey/Carmel area, a night in Santa Cruz, three nights in SF, and two nights in the Napa/Sonoma area. Or split it in half somehow. What did I win?

Yowsah! That is teeeeee-ninesy, as they say in the South.

Jeff, I always love reading your reports. You live a charmed life. (And I can't wait for you to eat at Joël.) It looks like ambient lighting to me, and not like a flash at all. If he'd used a flash, there would be sharp shadows on the far side of the dish; instead the shadows are soft. The problem with the lighting in those circumstances is that, in dimmer lighting, some focus can be lost. Better that that using a flash, though.

In the late afternoon, with the low sunlight on it, rainbow chard looks like stained glass. I love it so much. Here is my rough recipe for chard with feta and other stuff, loosely based on Molly Katzen's "Pasta with Feta and Greens" from Still Life with Menu. "Yummy, yummy, yummy." </Dame Maggie Smith>

For the record, my entry above was one of my ever first eGullet posts, before I understood the premise of the competitions, not knowing that was an end to these contests. And I was so embarrassed when it just lay there and lay there, and no one told me that I'd entered a contest long past its "sell-by" date.

Great report, dawl. Looks like you really had fun. (Hey! I see those Rancho Gordo beans! Woo hoo!) Really great photos, and good work on the whole thing. I would welcome specifics about the cheeses and stuff you got at the Oakville grocery.

An unbelievable kitchen. I was lucky enough to take a tour of the kitchen and wine cellar. Joel’s kitchen is one that any cook would be envious of. Here is a link for kitchen layout. Joel Kitchen YOWSAH!

Mine smelled like my worst nightmares of Jonestown, from thirty feet away. Seriously. Just unbearably dank and rancid. I should shut up, but I'm wondering about the statute of limitations. heh

Tried that link. It's a link to a link. Here is the (original) link. Sort of. http://www.miss-charming.com/bartender/watermelon.html Boy, if it were me, I'd skip vodka and go to tequila. So I've heard. I know, vodka has "no taste" (as if). Love that GardenWeb.com: they're party animals.

Read my post. I stored it in two Baggies inside two jars, all sealed tightly. Good luck containing that smell. I bet half the calls to 911 (e.g., "I think he's got a dead body buried in his basement") are, in fact, alerts to asofoetida in only four layers of containment.

I am not making this up. Bought some, unaware that the etymology of the name come from "fetid." Mine was contained in two zipped baggies. Then put inside a small jar (screwed tight) within a bigger jar (screwed tight). Put OUTSIDE in the garage, with full ventilation, fifteen feet from the kitchen. It still smelled like rotting zombies, so I went ahead and buried in the ground. I should have put a stake through its heart, but no. Like they say in "The Grinch Who Stole Christmas": Stink. Stank. Stunk. I could never buy or use it again.

Hey, y'all are funny and flirty and good with details. What's not to like? I envy you for how much you get to travel, too. (Nice website, dude.)

This is just my personal experience; I'm not a professional tea purveyor but I do drink a lot of the stuff. 1) Both selection and prive are equally important, but quality is the most important thing in selecting teas. 2) Yes, people buy tons of coffee and tea online. Tea especially, I think. 3) No idea. 4) I've bought from Republic of Tea, Teavana, G.H. Ford, Tealuxe, Upton, Taylors of Harrogate. That doesn't mean they're the biggest purveyors, but their quality is good. I won't drink Lipton crap, and Celestial Seasonings herbal concoctions I don't count as "tea." Sorry I can't address the coffee thing. I don't drink it: it makes me feel like I'm being tailgated.

Painting and Tammy, I love your little tag-team write-ups. Good work, y'all.

Word from David Kinch is that he and David Hawksworth are going to try to work together soon. At Manresa? Hope so!

Mmmmm, I cooked my Rancho Gordo beans last night and they're so goooooooooooooooooood.

Hilaaaaaaaaaaarious! Good work!

Ditto on the Sinskey recommendations: the tasting room is quite stunning, as well.

This might be helpful: Wine varietal locator map for the Silverado Tral.

I can't believe no one has mentioned S. Anderson (apparently to be known as Cliff Lede Vineyards). Their sparkling wines are simply fabulous. They've got caves, gardens, art and walking tours. (I don't like their website at all, though.)

Jacques was the guest of honor at a recent event at Monterey Bay Aquarium. I had the good fortune to attend his cooking "demonstration." It was packed, and he graciously signed autographs and posed for photos with rabid fans. The "demo" was about sustainable seafood. Salmon was its theme. And there we were, on the Monterey Bay, where salmon season is going strong. Why then, O Powers That Be, did you give him Alaska sockeye wild salmon to use?

I had an exquisite sake in San Francisco at "The House." Heiwa Shzu (copied directly from the menu): tokubetsu-honjo ginjo "10,000 apricot blossoms," wayakama, japan