Stone

only people who know what scampi means in italian know it is somehow "wrong" or funny. the rest of us just accept scampi (no italics, as it's an english word in this usage) as a preparation. Otto, when they mean "oh-toe" (truncated oh and aspirated toe, of course.)

Since we're on the subject. I took a quick spin by Costco again tonight for last minute supplies. I was surprised. The lines were fairly short, and I got behind two groups who looked like they were in an Express Item lane at Safeway. Not bad. Let me set the scene. The main parking is a floor up. The only entrance/exit is a somewhat narrow, two-lane ramp, around a sharp corner. I'm making my way out, and I come around the corner to see two fellows trying to bring a line of shopping carts up my way. They had a long line, behind pushed from behind by a guy on a tractor. The other fellow was walking at the front to guide the carts. Seemingly aware of their limitations, they were pushing the carts up the center of the aisle to give them maximum distance from the walls. Well, the guy on the tractor apparently had the mistaken belief that his grade school teacher was telling the truth when she told him that he was just as smart as the other kids. Not. Spurred on by a sense of daring, he decided to push 5 or 6 more carts on the end of the line. Why not? He could get his job done faster, please his boss, and impress all the ladies hovering around the $1 hot dog condiment stand. But, alas, instead of taking the time to drive the carts up from the back, he came in from an angle. This allowed us to witness a real-life demonstration of Newton's third law of thermodynamics, "Stupid is as Stupid Does." Well, Stupid was, and Stupid did, and, for added measure to make matters worse, Stupid kept on doing, pushing those carts in at an angle which caused a bulge as the line of carts experienced, well, think of it as a hernia as half-way up the line of carts the, I don't know, torque? started curving the line outward. Stupid number two, much to his credit, tried valiantly to push the carts back to form a straight line as Stupid number 1 kept the power on the throttle hoping to over come gravity, friction, and his own eternal failures and get the line of carts moving upwards again. The effort failed all around, and soon Stupid number two was pinned against the wall trying to extricate his foot which was stuck worse than if it had been in his mouth. From my view at the top of the ramp, there was a straight line of carts going down the center of the aisle about half-way until it veered sharply to the right -- across my lane -- to the wall where Stupid 2, tried to get his foot out and then curving back across the center aisle to where Mr. Number 1 and his tractor still thought that pushing was the proper course of action. By now, the line behind me had grown quite long with people who of course could not see around the corner and were unaware of the monumental inanity that I was watching. They then began to honk and, in what would normally be seen as a gesture of rudeness if this were not the Costco parking lot where any one occupant was wholly within reason to assume that anyone -- nay everyone else was an idiot, they started to cut up along the oncoming traffic lane to skirt around me (assuming the I was sitting at the top waiting not because of any actual reason but simply because my brain had stopped) and the others behind me. As the first pulled up next to me, he realized what I knew, our "way" was blocked by some lesser participants in some greater "retards-to-work program", but as they stopped to witness the scene, more of their ilk piled behind them to now fully block the only two lanes at the top of the ramp. But what's more, at this same time the greater idiots (idiototis costcoitus maximus) below the carts starting trying to skirt around the tractor at the bottom. Great idiots these are because they could, unlike those at the top, view the moronic event unfolded before us and were aware that there was a line of shopping carts wedged unforgivingly in the ramp and, had they any ability to reason would have quickly concluded that if the whole line of cars pulled to within inches of the tractor, the tractor could not pull back at all unless they pulled back, and furthermore, that the carts could not work their way back from the wall unless the tractor pulled back. By this time, Secondo, if we may, had, yes, taken his shoe off to emancipate his foot and was, to his credit, trying to pull carts away from where they were wedged against the wall. But, curves as this spine was, the carts were still quite interlocked an this cause nothing but frustration as number one tried to explain to the cars that they must move back in order for evolution to go forward. Number two pleaded with the cars skirting around me who were now just as trapped as people who once thought "Awesome, Dude, Great White is playing tonight". number one soon returned, yanked are and removed two carts from the wall, thus breaking the curve of the chain. He quickly ran them up the ramp and pushed them to the side as the remainder of the line of carts, of course, who no longer had anything keeping them where they were, slid down the ramp, curving towards and into the poor wall who did nothing but wake up this morning and now found itself being assaulting by shopping carts. Number 2 ran down, and tried again to pry carts free the wall, but to no avail, as he had the weight of a dozen or so carts joining together with gravity to pin them where they were. He tried pushing them, but no. Then he decided that when stupidity triumphs, baby steps are in order and he began to remove the carts from the top of the line three at a time. This, however, soon created enough of an opening on top for yours truly to scoot down the left side and around the tractor who's lesser half had convinced the cars to back up enough for me to free myself, return home to the sanctity of my couch, drink a cold beer, reflect on the meaning of this eveing and draft this brief repose. I can only assume that there are still dozens of people in cars in the Costco parking lot thinking . . . well, no, they're probably not doing that. Yes, this story is true.

agreed..but if he just cooks rice, he's a cook. If he leads, teaches and manages a group of people to create a great venue for him to serve the rice as part of an inspired dish, he is a chef. Tommy, do not try to fit this in to your synopsis! What if the venue is Popeye's Fried Chicken & Biscuits, and the rice is going in a lexan container on a steam table? Wink: "Chef or not a Chef?"

Tommy's thinking so hard his kitty isn't twitching any more.

I don't think you are confusing chefs and leaders..but chefs and COOKS..isnt't the above the description of a cook?? edited to add that I like slkinsey's maestro analogy. but I wish SLkinsey had an easier name, is kinsey ok? Let's get this straight, it's my maestro analogy -- just read the first post. SLkinsey just gussied it up a bit, that's all. And for the record, I was at a bar once, and Leonard Bernstein was there, and someone came up to him and said, "how ya doing, Maestro." So, in fact, maestros are called "maestro" off-the-clock.

Did he save his receipt?

Is Trotter still considered a Chef, or is he more of a marketing guy now?

The next Food Network Game Show: "Chef or Not a Chef!" With your host, Wink Bourdain, and an all-star panel including Baby-Faced Bobby, Baby-Faced Jamie, and Baby-Faced Rachel. On with the first round . . . . The guy grilling pizzas at Otto? Chef or not a Chef, Wink? The guy that develops Quiznos's new subs? What you say, contestants, Chef or not a Chef? The guy running Blue Smoke's bbq pit (or whatever)? The guy tending Arthur Bryant's great wall of Que? Leonard Nimoy? He's a Jew, Wink. I don't really have an opinion on this one, but I've spoken with people that do. They think the title "Chef" requires a certain level of training, expertise, responsibility and a certain stature of restaurant (or past restaurant). They think that calling someone who devlops food for a fast food restaurant a Chef is comprable to calling Bob Cobb "Maestro."

It's no accident that when tap water is served at restaurants in LA, it's iced and has a lemon slice in it.

Hmm. Maybe if we start some rumors, we'll get a response. I heard through the grapevine that he was discovered in compromising situation with Two Fat Ladies and Martha Stewart.

Anyone have an estimate of how many people this will feed? (Assume no salmon.)

That looks like a pretty run-of-the-mill wood cabinet. How'd it get up to $1,000? Is the racking expensive? The cooling unit? Are you going to finish (varnish, polyurethane) the outside?

You must love Home Depot. This probably goes somewhere else, but things I hate about Costco 3) Thousands of mentally-challenge dwarfs (a.k.a. children) running amok with no supervision and getting in my way; 2) Crowds of morons who think that the tasting counters serving nuggets of "the latest thing we figured out how to fry-and-freeze" are their own white-trash degustation menu -- thereby getting in my way; and and 1) 30 minute check-out lines whilst six counters are closed and you can see a bunch of "workers" standing around back trying to figure out the best way to further contaminate the gene pool. (I've spent too much time at Costco in the past few weeks.)

101 (41-60). My worst round in two and a half years, including a back with an eight, a ten and a thirteen. I'd love to blame the night previous for the score (believe me, I would), but it had absolutely sweet F.A. to do with it. The guy I was playing against and his memory lapses when counting shots, however, might have contributed to some variety of anger...would you believe my other rounds on the weekend were 81 and 82, and somehow my handicap stayed in single digits? :) Maggie - I'm convinced this was a really, really crap example of food that could be great. That's why I'm asking about it...I want to try this done right! I spent a week in the Bahamas and shot in the 80's five days in a row. Came back here, and couldn't hit the ball straight for the life of me. And I know I didn't have any haggis. Oh, and getting back on topic -- what makes you think haggis has to be better than what you had? Just because a bunch of tough-guys with their chests stuck out tell you how wonderful haggis, tripe, guts, and offal are, why believe them? There's a reason no one with more than $1 in their pocket eats that shit any more. It sucks. (Just kidding. Kind of.)

How'd you shoot?

Okay Stone, I'll admit Popeye's isn't bad, but "the best"? That's a real statement. After I wrote that, I realized that I can't remember the last time I had fried chicken that didn't come from Popeyes, KFC (blah) or Roy Rogers. So next weekend, leave the cover on the smoker and fry up some chicken instead. Start a real-time thread and we'll walk you through it -- just leave the Maggi in the cabinet. Dude, fried chicken is very fattening.

Okay Stone, I'll admit Popeye's isn't bad, but "the best"? That's a real statement. After I wrote that, I realized that I can't remember the last time I had fried chicken that didn't come from Popeyes, KFC (blah) or Roy Rogers.

All the goodies were gone by Monday night.

However Popeye's does it. That's the best.

Here's the current plan: Friday Night: Put 12 pack of Sierra Nevada in fridge. Drink one. 7:30 pm -- Set up bullet, full bin of unlit coals, 4-5 big wood chunks, lit 10 starter briquettes (maybe I'll try to find natural wood charcoal -- but they don't fit well in the chimney, difficult to guage what I've got). Rubb the butts (they'll have been brining for two days in simple water, salt, sugar mix). Two, about 6 lb and 8 lb. Drink 2. 8 pm -- Butts on. Either both on top rack or bigger on top. (Full water). Get temp to stabilize between 225-260. Trim two racks of pork ribs. Make cole slaw, white bean salad. Two more beers. Midnight -- fill water, drink. 3 am -- rise and check temp, water, flip butts. Drink? Saturday 7 a.m. -- rise. Check temp, water. Beer (before or after brushing? Col.?) Brine ribs. Same mixture (make fresh night before). How long need to brine ribs? 3-4 hours? I think overnight would be too long. 8 am -- Brine chickens. 2, about 3.5 pounds each, backs out, butterfly'd. How long need to brine chix? 9:30 -- Cure salmon filet (take pin bones out first). All that salt? Will need a beer. 10 -- 10:30 -- Rinse ribs, chix -- rub 'em down. Butts off when bone wiggles. Hopefully a good internal temp of 210 ish? Wrap in foil put in oven to rest. (Off?) Continuing -- check coals. Ribs on lower rack. Chix on top (probably skewer with bamboo, prop up) Water. Beer. 1 p.m. -- rinse salmon, S&P 1-1:30 -- chix off. Wrap in foil; salmon on. 2-2:30 -- pull pork, cut up chicken. 3:30 -- Ribs off. This is the current plan. I'll probably nix the fish and have some burger meat ready if necessary. (Brines and cures courtesy of Virtual Weber Bullet.)

I didn't get that from your post. Good point. But as with network news, a talking head just reads what other people write. The trick is to find someone people want to listen to.

At my last French Laundry meal, we brought three bottles -- which meant $150 in corkage fees. I was a tad annoyed that this resulted in almost $30 in tips. But, as Beans pointed out -- the tips went to the staff, who did as much work for the BYO wine as they did for house bottles. The house on the other hand . . . . (By the way, there are many threads on tipping policies and practices.)

I have to admit that I find him to be an annoying bufoon. Especially on Mario's otherwise Excellent Journey through Italy. But I've read that he's actually a chef and quite intelligent. What's the deal?

They are quite thick. Then just be carefull not to burn the outside before the inside get's done. Maybe keep half the grill cool, and pull the fish over after a bit.

"Dumbed down?" That's a pretty loaded question. Remember, the Food Network exists first to make money, and second to provide programming to a wide range of people -- not all of whom spend their every waking moment on eGullet. Many people are more in need of a 30-minute meal show than they are of a show that explains how to make haute cuisine (assuming that one has a sous chef to slice/dice and make three or four demiglaces so they're ready when Mom gets home from work and/or picking up the kids after soccer practice). And other people are interested in food issues that are funny and pop-culturish, but not necessarily serious. Take a look at the threads on eGullet -- a huge percentage of them are, well, "dumbed down."