theabroma

Maybe each of us should begin with our personal definition of 'fine dining' or 'haute cuisine'. I think that this will give a better starting reference point and help level the ground between palates, and ensure the placement of personal cards for wine lists, service, decor, bias, etc. squarely in view, and on the table in front of us. That having been said, let me walk my talk: To me haute cuisine is simply and only high French cuisine. What Careme and Escoffier developed and codified for us. And as practiced in France it does not appear to be given to fits of fusion, or plating that necessitates the engineering skills of an Eiffel, and the artistic skills of Gaugin, Matisse, Degas, etc. It is unabashedly rich, and painfully fussy to prepare unless you can maintain a formal brigade de cuisine, and a roughly 2.5 to one guest/staff & kitchen ratio. To call anything else 'haute cuisine' implies to me the engagement of a woefully undereducated or venal PR agency. In short, Dallas has none ... smirking, bare-assed cherubs on the ceiling notwithstanding. That was Le Pavillion under Henri Soule and Lutece under Andre Soltner. That takes the curmudgeonly me to 'French': at one time that would have included the French Room, a a few other now defunct restaurants. Now, though Le Pavillion and Lutece are no longer helmed by those gentlemen, I would look elsewhere in New York City (Le Bernardin under Eric Ripert), possibly Jean Banchet's restaurant in Illinois(name escapes me just now), or Thomas Keller's French Laundry in Yountville, Ca (though not strictly French). Or, I would wait for American Airlines to have a 4 day special to Paris, buy the cheap ticket and book a rezzie at Arpege, or Le Pyramide, or Moulin des Mougins, or L'Auberge de L'Eridan in the Savoie. It probably wouldn't cost a whole lot more to do so, plus France is thrown in as a freebie, plus you have 2 days to train for it, 1 to savor, and 1 to recover. OK: Continental (i.e.: western European, but not 'French') Rene Peeters' Watel's. It has consistently, day in day out, year in year out delivered the fromage. For those devoted to offal, his calf's sweetbreads are divine. Maximum attention to the plate, minimum feel of the PR agency's hype. The Old Warhorse, er, Warsaw is heavy on decor, but manages to keep on keeping on. I will step up and date myself: it was originally located on Cedar Springs where the Barking Frog is now located. It was blindingly wonderful, formal, cozy. It did the classics, and did them well. It was owned and operated by a Polish gentleman, and one was cossetted and spoiled, but not fawned upon. It is not quite the same, but still good. The French Room, after a couple of long ago forays into it, sits on my graph as a point where 'jarringly expensive' meets 'iffy at times', and that's not an investment I feel comfortable in subjecting my purse to. The rest, which I put together because, to me, they do not neatly fall into any of the usual categories. For fish, since Andrew Thomson left for the Dallas County Club, and Lisa Balliet Aldana took a detour through AquaKnox as opening chef, and is now teaching and mom'ing, I cannot say 100%, but Cafe Pacific in Highland Park Village is usually very good for fish. AquaKnox dedicated itself to doing fish beautifully, and in so doing proved that Dallas is not quite ready for prime time fish, other than surf and turf. Too bad for AquaKnox. I have heard that Chamberlain's does fish well, and I know that their smoked salmon is wonderful. I think Stephan Pyle's has fish on the menu at Dragonfly at Hotel Zaza, and that would definitely be worth a try. For Spanish tapas: hands down, Cafe Madrid on Travis Street. For Mexican food: woof! this one is too personal to me for me to be unbiased. Javier's indeed broke the ice for 'interior' Mexican food, and set some high standards. Although they advertise Mexico DF style, it is really more upscale Northern Mexican: grilled and roasted meats, and beef heavy. It has a dark, Spanish influenced hacienda look. The food is good. My choice for upscale would be Monica Greene's and Joanne Bondy's Ciudad. Traditional ingredients, in upscale (in a good way), different presentations. I would not judge a most restaurants by their brunches: in the trade that is a way to handle edible, but not presentable in a plated fashion left overs. If they still have the short ribs of beef in mole colorado, get it, get it, get it. The duck flautas are wonderful. I have never been disappointed there. For more traditional fonda economica food, go to their new venture: Cafe Pegaso in Downtown. If you are the adventurous sort, and it's what's on the plate and not what's on the patrons around you, go to Taqueria Puebla off Webb's Chapel and NW Hwy, behind Goldfinger's. Get the Huaraches or Memelas or Sopes. And a very cold beer. They are almost what you'll find on the street in Puebla de Los Angeles. El Ranchito on Jefferson Blvd at Llewellyn in Oak Cliff. Northern style roasted meats, even good fajitas, and mollejas (sweetbreads) or tripas (intestines) grilled and crisp. Cuquita's used to be wonderful; now it is merely good. It is very, very successful, with a guaranteed crowd, so they apparently feel they can take it a little easy. La Duni on McKinney just north of Knox is interesting, sophisticated in decor, as well as on the plate. One of the few places in Dallas where you can get superb desserts - Dunia Borga's specialty. High end dining: Aurora (I am in Mexico and missed its opening, however read the 11/19 Dallas Observer review) sounds pricey, but worth it. Avner Samuel, the perennial Bad, Bad Boy of Dallas chefs is likely, along with Sharon Hage at York Street (probably the nicest of Dallas chefs, the most gifted. The menu sounds like a Michelin-starred grease slick of foie gras and caviar, but Avner delivers. which brings me to York Street. This is where the industry people who are focussed on The Food go to dine. It is small, and it is wonderful. Abacus has never failed me either. Kent Rathbun maintains a vein of Asian flavor running through his food, but it doesn't scream "Fusion! I'm so clever! Look at me!" While it looks superb, it will knock your tongue out of your mouth with taste and texture and aroma. Yes, the lobster shooters are grand. But the lamb potstickers were from another galaxy, and the sweetbreads in pancetta, morels and cream made me want to just lie down in the dish. Also, I appreciate the earthy ochers and rich eggplant tones of the decor. You can dress up, or you can dress nicely casual, and be at home either way. His Exec Sous Chef, Aaron Staudenmaier, is now at Rathbun's new restaurant, Jasper's in Plano. It is more family style, but still high end. Aaron is one of the best kept secrets in Dallas - or Texas - kitchens, so I say go for it. Chinese: Hong Kong Royale on Polk St. just south of Beltline in Richardson has an extensive Sat/Sun dim sum menu - perpetually parading carts of all sorts of common and exotic items, and the majority of the patrons are Asian. Farther up on Greenville, north of Beltline is a whole strip center of Asian/Chinese restaurants. Maxim's also has excellent dim sum, and the Jeng Chi Bakery (pronounced Ren She) has a traditional Chinese menu and a limited, though excellent variety of steamed dumplings. The Mansion on Turtle Creek is elegant, and maybe the most beautiful venue I have actually seen in Dallas, and the food is good. They've had some problems recently and lost either a Star or a Diamond. They took Southwestern Cuisine to a point, and then for some reason, rather than continuing to mine that incredibly rich gastronomic vein, began to gloss things w/an 'Asian Fusion' motif. It is costly enough that I would rather invest elsewhere, but it is indisputably a major point in the development of fine dining in Dallas. Lola's I happen to love. Chris Peters (sadly, no known relation) is enormously talented, and a very expansive, passionate chef. It will contine to be wonderful and get 'wonderfuller'. I know that as soon as I post this I will remember a hundred more places. I will, if you permit me, just come back and tack more on. As for wine lists, well I guess the Mansion's is the 900 pound gorilla. I love wine. I had an ex who got into it quite seriously (before we were ex), and once cajoled some lawyers on a recruting trip into purchasing an array of wines for our dinner (in Austin, at the oddest of places, Andre's run by a Belgian chef/mercenary who, when he tired of down and dirty hanky panky in Rhodesia, came back to his restaurant to cook. When he was in form, he was exquisite.) It was an embarrassing array of France's finest - and all the guys did was sip occasionally and mostly talk about it. The other wife and I were silent. We just drank. A lot. Most expensive hangover ever, but worth every wince. Sorry. I think the trend now is for good wines of a fair price (and there is a fair price for Latour '61) that match the menu items, rather than simply scream their cost and pedigree. And as a person who loves wine, and who loves wine with their food, that makes two different ways of looking at it. There are wine lists in this town with items listed which totally outstrip the abilities of the kitchen. That is not a good thing. There should be balance. So in the end, I would suggest you think about whether you want a) food, b) food and wine paired and balanced, or c) wine. The Dallas Dining Scene/Seen does have a lot of participants who effectively place eye candy, trendy plate accessories, and expensive bottles of wine above the food and wine balance, and there are a lot of (short-lived) places that cater to that rather clientele. There are interesting experiences to have in those restaurants as well, and in many, the food is rather good. Ain't choices grand???? Theabroma

There used to be this terribly self-conscious diner - retro rocket style, well before Fog City - in Austin, on Barton Springs Road by Zilker Park. They had jerked lamb riblets as an appetizer. I went into deep mourning when they closed. Those ribs, in a city and state full of good rib joints, were the ultimate. Before that I used to find lamb riblets from time to time in little butcher shops or in markets serving ethnic neighborhoods. When I lived in New Haven - where I was introduced to lamb riblets, I came to associate them with restaurants and butcher shops throughout New England and New York frequented by Eastern Europeans. Where I found deckle, I also found lamb riblets. Has anyone tried a good kosher butcher? Theabroma

I'll ask a favor here - Richard, are you there? - if someone in Texas is willing to contact a USDA office, the Plant Inspection people, and pin them down as to whether an individual can bring fresh Ustilago maydis (aka cuitlacoche) across the border, and get a name, rank, and serial number, I'll track some down in the market, pack it - or have it sealed - in plastic and bring it back with me in mid-December. I am assuming the translation of the Nahuatl name is known? 'Sleeping Excrement of the Lords'? Isn't that just dandy? So for those of you who pale at the mention of 'corn smut', please rethink your position. Typically in markets here (Mx) you see it in baskets, already shaved off the cob. And it is beautiful - charcoal and silver grey. But the first time that I confronted an entire ear of corn infected with it, I nearly threw up. It's kinda scary looking.

A public confession of my illness: 2,576 at home, plus another 27 since I got to Mexico. Somewhere there MUST be a 12 Step Program for this. Help!

In Bayless' second book, check out his recipe for Tres Leches. It uses Rose Levy Beranbaum's genoise, with the addition of ground almonds. The milks are changed to include cajeta. This is one seriously glorious cake when done. Also, it is traditional to serve tamales with mole, and traditionally what is served are 'blind' tamales - that is, it is the masa, fat, salt, and usually chicken broth made into the typical mix, put in a corn husk and steamed. They are used to dunk into the sauce. Sometimes a little of an herb or flavor used in the mole or complementary to it is folded into the masa prior to steaming. You could try that and make empanadas out of the mushrooms. Just a thought.

Paste or pulp - I think they should be about the same. It should be without seeds and fibers. If it does harbor seeds and fibers, then you need to removed them and the easiest way is to dissolve the the quantity you're going to use in a little water, and then sieve the crud out. If it is free of seeds and pulp, then tear off a golf-ball sized piece. Since you're throwing it in the blender, it really doesn't need to be dissolved. If, however, you were using it in a sauce, then yes, you would want to dissolve it prior to adding it because it will just sit on the bottom of the pan and not move - unless, of course, you are blending the sauce with a stick blender. This sounds like quite a meal! Theabroma

Re: the tortillas. Flour ones are the standard in the north, especially those gorgeous ones from Sonora that are huge and tissue paper thin. However ... if you've got some real corn tortillas, the hell with the flour ones. Re: agua de tamarindo. yes fruit-ades are a very Mexican thing, and ubiquitous at the table, especially if one is not imbibing. The quantity to use is really a personal decision. I love tamarind, so for 1 liter of water, I would use a ball of it about 2" in diameter. Now, I am assuming that what you have is pure pulp? If it is still in the pod, you will need to peel off the pod and the strings, and then put it to soak in a little warm water. After about 10 minutes, begin to pulp it with your fingers. Strain it (or press it through) a medium strainer - you want to get rid of the seeds, and pieces of pod, and any tough fibers. So a liquidy 1/2 cup is probably equivalent to a 2" ball. Toss the tamarind pulp into a pitcher. Add a half liter of water, stir to dissolve, adjust with additional liquid if it is too strongly flavored. Don't forget that you will want to either add ice, or serve it over ice, so allow for dilution from melt. Sweeten to taste - I think barely sweet, mostly tart is best, but hey! that's just me. In Mexico, aguas de _______ fill in the blank with the (non-starchy) fruit of choice: melon, melon seeds and almonds (horchata de melon), oranges, sour oranges, lemons, limes, guava, watermelon, etc. are ubiquitous - especially on the street. A vendor's cart will have several large glass barrels, or garrafones, containing the day's selections. Typically they float a large piece of block ice in the garrafon to cool the agua down. Now, if you really want to do that tamarind pulp proud: using your preferred proportions for one blender jar full of frozen margaritas, utilize the following products Herradura Silver tequila fresh Mexican or Key limes, freshly juiced a touch of Cointreau a titch of simple syrup ice cubes to fill the jar a fat, golf-ball sized piece of pure tamarind pulp; more if it is too liquid to form a ball. Close lid securely, cover w/folded bar/kitchen towel, whirl Adjust sweetness to taste. Serve. These are absolutely lethal - crisp, tart, refreshing. Why on a warm afternoon you only need salt the rim of the blender jar. And that is why they are so lethal - you can suck 'em down so fast you forget the punch they pack. Theabroma PS: You might want to consider red rice, frijoles a la charra, and pico de gallo (salsa fresca). T.

Did he chicken fry the WHOLE thing? Ye gads! Must've been one hell of a bender! Sharon A. Peters aka 'Theabroma'

Re: Round Rocks Though the implication of that nuclear waste yellow is that the dough contains enough egg yolks to make a brioche feel impoverished, I believe that the eggy color is achieved chemically. There is a very common product used in many bakeries - the more commercial, and further away from scratch, the more likely the candidate - and it is called 'egg shade'. In the bottle, it is a really terrifying shade of orange red, and when added, in small quantities, to a dough, it produces that irradiated emoticon yellow we know so well. This is the likely culprit, er - source of the yellow color in Round Rocks. As for the liquid egg product mentioned - it is far more common than you might imagine for a food establishment to use these products. Available from food purveyors, you can get frozen whole egg, yolk, or whites in half-gallon containers, 6 to the case. Large bakeries, institutional kitchens, and many smaller restaurants, bakeries, cafeterias, and caterers use these products. They have the advantage of allowing you to buy just that part of the egg you need, so you do not have to figure out how to use the other part (in one 5*, I was upbraided by my chef for retaining the unused portions of the egg, with the intent of delivering them to the pastry shop - their way, the proper way, of cracking and separating eggs, I was informed, was to stand over the trash can with, oh 3 flats of 30 each, and dump the unwanted part into the trash. The pastry shop used both fresh whole eggs, but also frozen yolks or whites. Well, that told me!) The other distinct advantage is that either whole or parted out, these eggs are pasteurized, thereby eliminating concerns about salmonella. Ever see the t-shirt in the store? "If you ain't got Round Rocks, you ain't got nuthin'? That's real special! Regards, Sharon A. Peters aka 'Theabroma'

Sahagun elicited many descriptions of tortilla and tamal making from his informants, as well as describing what he himself observed; all of which is contained in the Florentine Codex. He does not mention or discuss fat. Sophie Coe indicates, as well, that fat was not used - certainly in anything approaching the 1 to 2 ratio in use today. As for the oil palm, it is not clear from what I read whether the oil is used in making the tortilla (in which case it would likely be a wheat flour tortilla), or in making a dish like chilaquiles with the tortillas and eggs, etc.

The difference reading that Saveur piece made in my life was to see the Patroness of Seasonal and Local recast as the Harridan of the Haricots Verts. Bayless has walked his talk very consistently, has been a worker bee for the Chef's Collaborative, and has not been a notable limelight hog. I think that's why it shocks us to see him shilling for BurgerKing. It just seems that he has taken a weird, though constitutionally protected, U-turn. We just don't expect him to do something like that any more than we would expect to see you do the same for Wilton's summer coating.

Jeez, guess I've been living in an opaque baggie! Richard had to hit me over the head with the news that Bayless is shilling for BK - Sta Fe chicken/schmicken sandwich. What on earth has that boy been smoking? BTW, at Whole Foods the other night I noticed they were selling Frontera tortilla chips - some even flavored (and colored to match) w/salsa verde. I was coming out of a massage when I saw the display, and had to go right back to the chair, put my face in the ring, and beg for 20 more minutes on my spazzing neck. Tortilla chips? Mother of God's Hairdresser in a Lime Green Polyester Jumpsuit! Is daughter Lainie requiring a chinchilla liner for her snowboots, or is someone about to clean his clock in Family Court? Somewhere to the far south and west of me, up on the hill over Coatepec de Morelos, Michoacan, I can hear Dianna Kennedy howling. Oh, my! I think I'm going to be very ill ...

I'm off on a different track - I leave for Veracruz in October and join a group for a mushroom foray from 10/19-26. I have decided to drive (I'm in Dallas), 'cause I want to stay through Dia de los Muertos either in Veracruz, or go back and do it again in Tlaxcala, where they put up altarers all over the zocalo. I will (hopefully, probably) stay in Puebla trying to give a valve job to my Spanish during November. I am amenable to extending this trek ... and making offerings, burnt and otherwise, to my purse, beseeching it to see me through a loooooonnnnnnnggggg visit. So, even though you won't let us ride with you ... should our paths cross .... And I, too, will be taking a notebook so there will be east coasts posts from the road. Theabroma

Hey! I'll be leaving in early October for Veracruz - going on a mushroom foray. And I want to drag it on through Dia de los Muertos in Tlaxcala or Puebla. And I'm thinking of driving. I may just try to see how long I can stay!. It's been a long time since I've driven through the Bajio, so I don't know what to say. Definitely stop in San Luis Potosi and environs. Leon in Gto is the leather and shoe capital. Got the ganas for some boots or, heaven forfend, alligator shoes or belts 'n' bags? That's your place. Dolores Hidalgo has some talavera, but you should really get to Puebla for that (check out Talavera Uriarte). I have always played crack the whip around Monterrey - I take the bypass road, go through Saltillo, and on to Zac. I found I could drive from the border (8-9 am) and make it to Zac by about 5). Don't miss Nochebuena - a road sign, a Pemex, and a cafe/roadhouse that's round, pained in glass squares, and the interior decor is courtesy of a living, captive rubber tree that is the biggest dammed thing your have ever seen! It is a royal hoot. Also, a visit to Celaya, home of cajeta, is in order. Zac is exquisite. I stayed at the Posada de la Moneda, and I think I can still tell you how to get to the parking garage on the other side of the plaza. There is a Helados Bing on the corner - have a double of the cajeta ice cream as long as someone is with you to put you on a leash and keep you from ordering the whole bucket- and shop in the former governor's palace catty cornered across from the hotel. There is a cafe upstairs, and a restaurant in the basement. Very elegant. This tweedy looking hornrim sporting, Casper Milquetoast (made from Pan Bimbo, natch) professor-type looking man always comes in for dinner, carrying a briefcase. He sits at the piano, opens the bcase, extracts sheet music, and with great ceremony gets himself set up to play. His ritual gives every assurance that Artur Schnabel will soon be spinning in his grave. The gentleman plays like Anna Russell sings. Only, he's serious. Be prepared to stuff your snowy starched, bedsheet sized napkin in your mouth to keep hysterical laughter to a minimum. By the way, the food is wonderful. The Colonel museum is also there in his home, and definitely worth a visit. Fabulous collection of indigenous ceremonial masques, and a collection of Chagall's that will shock you senseless. The day I was there, the guard engaged me in a lively, though very learned, discourse about Chagall and the influences on his art. Amazing. But, hey, that's Mexico. That's why I lost my heart and soul to it. The countryside is gorgeous, and you will find lots, and lots of little places to stop and visit the markets, archaelogical sites, etc. There is (was?, hope not!) a greek owned/run coffee shop down the street from the hotel. Complete with paintings of local buildings done in coffee grounds on saucers. It is old, was very, very rich, and the architecture is fabulous. At the time I was there it was not overrun w/norteamericanos. Go ... and just keep going! If I take my car, and last that long down there, then we need to see if the pianiste is still there.

The real shocker for me was to learn that tamale dough, or masa for tamales, prior to the Spanish Conquest, was made without fat - hogs & cattle, the most prodigious producers of carcass or dairy fats, were brought from Europe. There were neither animals nor plants - nor plant processing technologies capable of yielding fat in the quantities necessary for making tamale masa as we have come to know it. However, after the conquest, fat sources began to appear - the leading contender being lard. Moving toward the present time fat options have increased. Today the most common 'alternative' fat used in tamale making is shortening, or hydrogenated vegetable oils (most notably, Crisco bran). But it is not at all uncommon to find special occasion tamales - certainly sweet ones, made with butter. In any case you will have great results if you whip the fat in a sturdy stand mixer w/the paddle attachment. Then toss in the masa in little chunks, then the salt, bp, and liquid. A spoonful of this masa should float in a bowl of cold water - that means that you have whipped enough air into it. If you are using butter, you may need to add a bit of cornstarch or rice flour as a binder. Butter contains up to 20% water and non-fat solids. I have also made 'kosher' tamales using shmaltz for the fat (delicious, but a decidedly different taste), and coconut fat. Since trans-fats are so wicked, it has taken much of the sting out of using saturated fats. Butter gives a wonderful taste to the masa; it yields a delicate finished product. If you want to avoid fat altogether, you can use some boiled, peeled, riced, and whipped potatoes - irish or sweet (sweet works better), in place of fat. It results in a heavier tamale, but with great flavor. Theabroma

Butterbeans, watermelon rind pickles, chicken salad (more the protocols - white meat, celery, Hellman's mayo, salt, white pepper, and anything else - other than the occasional halved green grape, or taragon leaf - rendered it unSouthern and you Trashy), cornbread w/clabber or in buttermilk, white coconut cake, and real pecan pie. Drool, and pass the lipitor, T.

Gotta be more to this mano a mano than is on the table: arch and bitchy, with a basic knowledge of English syntax and a fine control of your adjectives and imagery is one thing, vicious and in needing to have your vaccs updated is something else. That woman is obviously in need of at best a muzzle and a rabies booster. Who would hire her? Hey, that's a good one. Makes you rock back on your haunches and consider the apparent contradiction, and then rethink a few things - like, it's a given that the LAT or NYT are so good they're above reproach. Maybe not always. And when one is so very prominent in the public's mind and heart as to have become an icon, then the display of pique or worse, anger, by a member of the team simply is not done. So, hire a mouthpiece, someone you can easily and readily keep at arms length, reap any buzz they may create, and drop them at that arm's length the second they become a liability. The mob perfected this technique: it's known as the 'cold gun'. Doesn't trace back to the triggerperson by proxy. Just a thought, that's all. And given her obsessive-compulsive penchant for ankle nipping (did she go to Califas to join the LAT, or to hook up with that pack of feral Chihuahuas?), I am rather, oh, flooped, as to why Klc carried on as though his ox had been well and truly gored. Get a grip, Steve. Sit down, have a handful of fine, fine chocolate, you do so many things so well. She, like you writes, and cannot even do that. That tar baby w/her face on it you've been slapping is made of Summer Coating. Don't sully your patissier's paws w/it. And, while you're at it, a favor. If you've got that stuff on your hands, don't be slapping us w/them, either! T.

The original 'fee verte' gave quite an alcoholic kick. However, the amount of thujone in a belt of absinthe was negligible. If I am not mistaken, however, thujone will build in the system, so over a long period of intense and dedicated fidelity to absinthe's green fairy, negative effects attributable to a high thujone concentration may have kicked in. Don't forget, however, that the establishmed order saw fit to demonize, then criminalize absinthe, citing wormwood as the evilest of evils in the green bottle. I think there was a cultural/social dimension in operation here, which we have seen in our own day: when you wish to marginalize and disempower a group of people (often free-spirits & artistic types), in order to destroy its perceived threat to the established order and "morality", you can best begin by demonizing, destroying, and removing its emblematic accoutrements. Absinthe surely fits squarely in that category. And it was rapidly replaced by a series of defanged and emasculated imitators - Pastis, Pernod, Anis de Mono, etc. Eunuchs in a bottle to provide a frisson of the vrai vie de boheme to weekday moralists/weekend bohemians. Anyone remember the term 'weekend hippie'? Turned on, tuned in & dropped out on Sat & Sun, and prosecuted pot busts M-F? T.

Are you familiar with Editores Montagud in Barcelona? www.montagud.com or www.libreriagastronomica.com The Adria's books, plus so much more, are available through them. The have always been a pleasure to shop with, secure on-line transaction, and shipping via DHL. Just be damned sure that someone intent on saving your soul has charge of all of your tarjetas de credito before you pay Montagud a visit. It is quite the candy store. Marc Veyrat's Fou des saveurs is an excellent book, as are many on Montagud's list. However. My library is now arranged BA/AA: before & after the Adrias. The first of their books I got was Albert's Postres de El Bulli. (I am a bit perplexed that it does not seem to have been mentioned here - his flow chart orderings and classifications of components is, by itself, worth the cost of the book). I don't really know what to do with those books - but they inspire and challenge the bejesus out of me. Theabroma

It is to crisp them up for pickling. You do the same thing with watermelon rind before pickling it.

They're real good w/a spicy remoulade. But grandma never put cream gravy on them - sometimes a little cider vinegar in the bacon grease they were fried in, and poured that hot over them. But we were German back there somewhere, and we got a lot of those versions of German potato salad dressing. Theabroma

Oooooh! Fifi, thanks bunches! That is going to be a big help in my lard in tamales crusade! Theabroma

My ex, a charming Sikh born in Malaysia, definitively described the Durian Experience as "eating the most delicate of custards in a public toilet". 'Nuf said! Theabroma

This is a truly amazing experience - so much incredible info and how to. Reminds me of a Kurt Vonnegut reply when asked what, in his opinion, was the 'art of writing". Vonnegut: "The art of writing is the art of applying the seat of one's pants to the seat of the chair." David, you have said that, albeit with greater diplomacy, and it is so true. Thanks. Aside from writing articles, I am also a translator. I am currently editing a book on chiles, and preparing it for review by the author, and then prospective pubishers. (Don't ask at this point about the relative positions of cart and horse!) There appears to be a big limbo area in this market: pubs wanting different and 'authentic' perspectives, and people out there producing them - in something other than English. This, I have learned, is not the province of the typical translator working today (books or technical/commercial/legal documents). So, does one query pubs in the US w/sample of the trans plus a thumbnail bio of its author? Any thoughts? Thx Theabroma

Lard, redux: I often teach tamale making classes in local cooking schools and in people's homes (I guess I facilitate tamaladas), and the footprints of the anti-lard lobby are always apparent all over my students. Yes, lard is a saturated fat. However. Not all things that lard contains are bad for you, nor is lard a completely saturated fat (I believe that means that some to several of the carbon docking spaces on the carbon ring are not filled with hydrogen atoms - the more of those docking spaces that are filled, the greater the degree of saturation of the fat, and, presumably, the firmer it is at room temp). We all have been (over)warned on the subject of saturated fats. And now we are being deluged with the extremely bad press on trans-fats. (My general understanding is that these are mono and poly unsaturated fats, which have hydrogen bubbled through them. The hydrogen hooks up at the empty carbon docking bays on the ring, and a trans fat is created: solid, and very, very shelf stable.) We now read that these are worse for us than saturated fats. Hooray and pass the tamales by the dozen! Not so fast. Lard phobics have turned to Crisco - the dowager empress of trans-fats to enrich and lighten their tamale masa. Well, good. Now we can use lard, and not feel too guilty. Well, yes ... if you make it yourself. Go to the super and look at the packages and buckets of lard. They all say "hydrogenated" or "partially hydrogenated" pork fat. Hydrogenation equals trans-fat, so its like firing both barrels at the same time. That is why you would do best to either find a Mexican grocery/shop that makes carnitas, and buy the brownish, liquidy lard, or else, Rick Bayless or Diana Kennedy in hand, make your own. Zarela Martinez authored a piece a few years ago entitled "Praise the Lard", in which she discusses the chemical composition and dietary pros and cons of homemade lard. I had a copy, I lost it. If anyone has it or can find it, I'd love to get my hands on it again. Theabroma The