jaybee

I hate Mexico. The Mexicans stole our house. The government is corrupt. Mexico City is hell on earth and it smells bad. The roads are death traps. The Mexicans stole our house. I wouldn't go back there for all the coke in Columbia. Whew, thanks. I feel better now.

John, is it fair to conclude that whenever you don't include this parenthetical addendum to a post, you intend irony? Incidentally, I was thinking earlier today that Cabby qualifies for a job as a restaurant reviewer in any publication I've read. Her "work" is far more informative, detailed and perceptive than most working "food" writers.

While ago I discovered upon going to a cardiologist for an exam, complaining of general discomfort. my blood pressure was 190/95! He asked if I had eaten a lot of salt recently. Upon recollection, I was reminded that in the prior several days I consumed large quantities of "gourmet" Virginia roasted peanuts (salted), major amounts of pretzles during a meeting, several large glasses of Clamato juice (salt disguised as a beverage), a fair amount of potato chips, and several dishes of sliced beefsteak tomatos, heavily salted. I was obviously oblivious to the salt content of what I ate. Dr. suggested that I might do well to reduce my salt intake to as close to zero as possible, and prescribed medication, offering that I was in danger of stroke if I persisted with this level of blood pressure. (Hello!). Between medication and diet, I have brought my BP to within normal ranges. The evidence that I find compelling, for me, is that the day after ingesting significant quantities of salt (from potato chips, other snacks, soy sauce, salty food, sauces etc.) my blood pressure goes up at least 20 points on the top end, (160-170), my head throbs and the back of my neck aches. After a day or two of reducing my salt intake to a minimum, my blood pressure returns to its normal range and the other symptoms disappear. (Reminds me of the joke ahout the man who goes to the Doctor to complain that his head hurt terribly whenever he did "this" and demonstrated by lightly tapping his hand to his forehead. He asked what he should do. The Doctor advised him, "don't do that." ) I avoid the salt shaker and eat few high salt foods. except caviar, smoked salmon, olives and sour pickles on occasion. Anyone who does not have such a reaction to salt, please feel free to pour it on.

You mean newspapers make mistakes? omigod, what's the world coming to? That's some menu. It sounds like a feast or a circus. I'll go with Lizziee's description. Are they such events ever "reviewed" objectively?

Jaymes, notice the usually omniviposting FG ignored both of us asking about the age of the children he is after. What does that tell us?

What restaurants, if any, represent models or standards of attainment for you?

I assume you love to cook. I also assume you want to run your own restaurant. How do those two activities compliment or conflict with each other?

FG, you neglected to mention the age range you are shooting for. This is critical in determining the material you can use. As you know there is a huge difference between a four year old and a seven year old in terms of conceptualization, literalness, attention span etc. Also girls tend to be more advanced than boys in the early childhood years with some kinds of material.

Marcus, this is disappointing news. I understood that Lacipiere insisted that the new chef/owner (Jean-Marie Plas-Debecker) work with him in the kitchen for a long apprenticeship before he would agree to sell to him. He was supposed to have been satisfied that the standards would be maintained, else he would have closed the place and left an unnamed shell. I recall he served very good game, excellent offal dishes, the pigeon farci was excellent, as was the cote de boef and steak au poivre. The roast leg of lamb, last tasted, was faultless and the terrine of fois gras de canard maison was among the best I've had. Is your comment based on more than one meal? What dishes were a disappointment? His son's place is pleasant but not in the league of Papa's. Great view of the Eiffle Tower at night though at the end of his street (rue de Monnttessuy).

I haven't read any of the book, but, if it was presented as an essay on the history and role of salt in civilization, the fact that it contributes to illness by promoting retention of water and a rise in blood pressure deserves mention. The functional role of salt as a preservative is long since obsolete in modern societies. It's role as a condiment is important, eg. frites or tomatos taste better with salt on them. There are members of my family who reflexively pour salt on their food as though it were a magic powder. I can count on a pounding headache and elevated blood pressure within a day of over- indulging in salt, so their habit makes me cringe. It is curious why the down-side of salt was ignored by the author.

Fer crissakes Nina!

The Jewish version of this dish is called "hammen tosh" or "hommen tashen" and is eaten as a dessert on a certain holiday, representing the ears of a famous bad man. Now let's get back to great food writers....

Two interesting observations, Sandra. Small doses. True, you know. Now you mention it, there are writers I tend to read like that. Normally, I prefer to pick up a book and read it through. Can't do that with her. Kobo Abe is another one I need to dribble out ("Ruined Map"). Women more than men? Good to hear from others on that point. At least you've relieved some of my MFK guilt.

Foodie, thanks for that. I felt that way initially about her, but found after a while I had to work too hard to sustain my interest in her some of her writing. I don't know whether the fault is mine or hers, but it's always bothered me, given the high regard with which she's held by so many serious foodies. I'd be curious for a "serious" discussion about her merits and demerits among the assemblage, asking that it not deteriorate into a "you stupid clod" debate. And yes, that's a form of precensure.

I can see confusing haggis for Peter's tush, but then, what do I know?

No, Steve, you're ignorance of Scottish cuisine is appalling. The "utter" in utter tosh derives from the sound made by the diner (an "utterance") when he (she) bites down on the small. squirming body of the tiny tosh, (which is almost extinct now). He is said to emit a barely audible sigh mixed with a small "oohhh". This is a result of the sensual pleasure the diner has from this exotic feast. It is said that the custom of hoisting his kilt to cover his head while eating the tosh came from the desire to trap all the essences of the taste and smells which are, after all, ephemeral (which means "short lived"). This custom caused the women in attendance to emit an utterance of their own, thus providing the name for the dish. Wilfrid, no doubt, can enlighten us about this hard to find delicacy.

No, Steve. There are many forms of tosh made in Scotland. Utter tosh just happens to be the most expensive and thus is considered the highest quality, most refined form of the genre. Perhaps one day, I'll take you to my favorite Scots restaurant for a tosh degustaçion. Bring a bottle of Pommeroy's best Chateau Fleetstreet '89; it goes well with tosh.

Blue Hil............ ...........Pepe's........ ....... .....Tony & Lucille's Will someone connect the dots for me?

I ordered this once in an obscure Scottish restaurant on the lower east side. I thought the chef's interpretation lacked character and was rather pretentious.

Did I read your question right? Best fine dining 35 miles from Hackensack. Take Route 80 east to GW bridge. Exit to Route 9 (Henry Hudson Parkway) and take this to 23rd street exit. (or 34th, or, for that mater practically any exit). You are now in mid-town NYC. Look in Zagat's or NYT Restaurant guide for top listings. Not trying to be a wiseass. I guess I don't understand your question. Oh, maybe you meant minutes not miles. In that case, take Route 80 east to GW bridge....

Jaymes, I get the feeling you'd be a pisser to go drinkin with.

Magnolia, with respect to the previous suggestions, which are wonderful if you have ambition and stamina, I propose some less ambitious places that can be reached in a couple of hours. If you have the ability and means to rent a car, you could enhance your ability to see and do in the Ile de France enormously. The following places are more than meals, they offer very interesting sight seeing, very different from what you'll see in Paris. St. Germaine en Lay, town of Maisons Laffite there is a one or two star restaurant that is wonderful. (forgot the name, but ate well there). Moret sur Loing is a picturesque town near Barbizon that is worth a day trip. The home of Clemenceau is there and we enjoyed a fascinating tour. Bas Breau, an Inn in Barbizon, has a worthy restuarant (as was mentioned). You will be near several wonderful chateau: Fouquet's chateau masterpiece Vaux le Vicomte click for vaux tour and the private chateau called Courrances, the grounds of which are well worth a visit. Prego to see Courances The forests around Barbizon are known for wild boar if you are there in season.

I stayed for several days on Cherche Midi in a front room of a small hotel during a hot spell. Open windows let in the sounds of roaring motorcycles until about 4 am when the sounds of a woman in the extacy of a prolonged orgasm sang amplified off the stones walls and streets. It was a sleepless night. I've learned to ask for rooms on the courtyard.

Thanks for that, Andrew. Ill cat? Our beloved Noonie, a mixed coon cat with the temperament of a golden retriever is 16 and has come down with diabetes. My wife, the elected caretaker (by default) gives her two shots a day of insulin and food suppliments. We now either take her with us to the country on weekends, or have a veterinary para come to our apartment to give her the shots if we have to leave her. Life has suddenly gotten more complicated, but if that's all there is, I'll take it gladly. I too feel like a tourist when w stay in the city on weekends. Your reports are eagerly anticipated.

Mayle's first book is an interesting point of discussion. It was a very entertaining read. But through it I was uncomfortable thinking how the "locals" would feel reading it. I wasn't sure if he was poking fun at himself for not being able or willing to understand and particpate with the "locals" or he was ridiculing them for the benefit of a sophisticated English audience. Yes the book was very succcessful. In a way, it confirmed what most of the readers expected such an experience to be like. And he walked the tighrope of cultural parody and self-deprecation fairly well. His second book was less successful in this regard, and fell to really poking the locals and his guests with sharp sticks. My late father in law built, in the early 1970s, what turned out to be a palatial villa on the beach of the Mexican Pacific coast. It was in a village of palapa huts with dirt floors. A bit of paradise. He took time to learn Spanish as spoken by the towns' people and developed a wonderful respect among them. They called him "el doctor" and came running to help whenever some emergency occured, which was quite often. There are many amusing anecdotes to tell about screw ups in construction (two houses were built on the reverse lots, so the lot numbers were reversed with a bribe to the zoning inspector). The point of the story is that he became a member of the community and, though always a "gringo", was respected and admired by the local indians for the respect and caring he showed them. I thought Mayles had found a formula of ridicule and parody at the expense of the "locals" which made him rich. For the record, I did devour the first two books and watched the tv movie. I was told that he had a house on Fire Island, as was described by the locals as "an arrogant prick."