Poivrot Farci

On shitty, foody-diary entries and laughably contrived criticism. On being a pussy.

There are no mandatory tests for E-coli in meats or produce. The costs does not warrant the hardly measurable risk of 61 annual deaths. Pasteurization and boiling kills E coli and avoiding livestock that is raised, bathed and slaughtered in poo is recommended. Meats can not be “washed” like fruits and vegetables. A 2005 Tufts University Health letter noted that “your hands, where they grasped the meat while washing it, could become just as bacteria-laden as the surface of the food...the best bet is to leave meat or poultry untouched until you start cooking it.” Less specific is how to bring said meat into pan or oven without touching it. Easier for Uri Geller than you or I. Using sterile gloves, rubbing alcohol, disposable blades and sterile forceps might help, but fecal contamination is only killed at 160F, and proteins cooked above the “well done” temperature produce carcinogenic heterocyclic amines which cancer epidemiology has linked to stomach cancer. Irradiation (cold pasteurization) eliminates the risk of E coli in ground meats and they are available in the US, but the labeling carries a negative connotation. Beyond losing epicurean label romance, irradiating (albeit harmless) might increase the time products spend between processing and consumer. General food related illness however is far more spooky for those easily frightened. As per the CDC: “...We estimate that foodborne diseases cause approximately 76 million illnesses, 325,000 hospitalizations, and 5,000 deaths in the United States each year. Known pathogens account for an estimated 14 million illnesses, 60,000 hospitalizations, and 1,800 deaths. Three pathogens, Salmonella, Listeria, and Toxoplasma, are responsible for 1,500 deaths each year, more than 75% of those caused by known pathogens, while unknown agents account for the remaining 62 million illnesses, 265,000 hospitalizations, and 3,200 deaths. Overall, foodborne diseases appear to cause more illnesses but fewer deaths than previously estimated.” With fatalist concerns, virtually anything “felt” after wary consumption could be diagnosed as being psychosomatic and one will probably get sick from something else which they hadn't considered in their paranoid fantasies.

In accordance with the campy Arabic theme, some take it for what it is, and are able to give critical scowls a rest, like when their 6-year-old children play out of tune in a grade school concert or screw up their lines in a shitty, poorly produced, holiday play. Some don't, and measure discontent with a stopwatch. Raqs sharqi, la moshkelah!

Ahem, the New York City Department of Health has yet to bless the virtues of vacuum cookery due to paranoid fantasies of botulism and listeria being bred if the bags are improperly vacuumed and that the cooking temperatures are not high enough to kill said harmful bacteria.I prefer the craftsmanship of a 17 ruby pocket watch over a quartz Casio, even if the rubber wrist-ticker keeps more consistent time and you can jog with it. Necessities, comestible or material, can be distilled down to a query of taste and an appreciation of origins, labor, history and pride...or at the very least anecdotes that sift out shallow girls at parties if you have the courage to talk to any. Perhaps it is nostalgia for a rumored time when presidents wrote their own speeches, passersby said hello and someone in the room knew how to sew a button. The loss of telegraph manufacturers for humanity is negligible and an inevitable consequence of modernization, but since the proliferation of cellular telephones, who remembers their best friends' numbers today like they did growing up. Buddies & horns will likely exist for the rest of our terrestrial lives but certain fundamental operations are crippled by the more faster and streamlined evolution of what “functions” and “functioning things” require of us. I know a dude (don't know his phone number, alas) who once took a peek behind the the smoke and mirrors of a reputable avant-guard southern kitchen. Lots of chemicals, gizmos, doodads and an eager bunch of aproned zealots who thought they were doing skateboard acrobatics over the cutting edge of cookery and back. The tuna, like many other vegetable and proteins, was, like, cooked in the sous-vide (which they allegedly regarded as “awesome”) for a substantial period of time and served within a close neighborhood of rare. On that particular night, a customer requested their tuna cooked somewhere further towards the outskirts of well. The cook paused and quickly calculated that the tuna would need 2 or 3 more hours in the circulating-cappuccino-warmer. After consulting a colleague, metal pan was eventually brought to flame and the tuna was efficiently hammered... I do not entirely dismiss vacuum cookery nor fear its immediate pinko proliferation, but feel that traditional methods of fire & steel provide more satisfaction to epicureans than warm -n- plastic, much like driving a standard transmission feels better than an automatic or how Ms. Cashion's hand writing a menu with a Waterman elicits more joy than tickling the qwerty. Thank you for the symposium, but sous-vide has sucked me dry and my fingers are chafed.

I endorse cookery within organic matter such as bladders over synthetic. As for sub-boiling, confits and poaches are executed below boiling temperatures, short of longer than that, they are fried or boiled, suitable for an Englishman's crooked palate. The premise of sous-vide slight-of-hand is that the impervious surrounding boundary (plastic) prevents the diffusion of flavors and moisture which would otherwise dilute savor and impart dryness. If one were to cook a red meat in a container barely larger within properly flavored and seasoned liquid at a modest 135F, the final protein, when sliced, will have lost minimal juices and offer the appearance of corresponding “doneness” throughout, comparable to sous-vide results. Beef shortribs cooked in a combination heat/steam oven under the same sous-vide principles of moisture/temp control will yield a rosy meat, though cooked through entirely...a handful of which may be sent back by wary laydiners as mid-raw. The romantic human element of cooking in nudged aside with lazy, riskless industrial techniques such as sous-vide. A craftsman's worth should be determined on technique (mastery) rather than a technique (method) and the ability for a conscious, thinking body to reproduce as close to the same repeatedly despite varying product, environment, circumstances, whathaveyous. I prefer the charming nuances of hand craft over the sterile, factory uniformity; the same human element that draws us to consistently reliable and unique musical, athletic or theatrical entertainment. Marcus Gavius Apicius. Whew. The Baron of bon vivants. Word on the via is that he had spent nearly the equivalent of $1.5 million on food and chose to poison himself rather than subsist on his remaining 100,000 gold pieces. Then there is the toppest of tippy top-shelf hosting and whimsical presentation; an awed hush for Trimalchio from Petronious's original sausage party - Satyricon:

Not sure I agree with Hung's lispy account of food history. Having consulted a cherished library of such “Classic” literature as L'almanach des Gourmands(1803), Manuel de La Bonne Cuisine (1873), L'art Culinaire Français (1950), L'art Culinaire Moderne (1957), Larousse Gastronomique (1961), and Notes From a Dirty Old Man (1969), there is no “Classical” mention of sous-vide. Maybe in Ron Burgundy's library there is. The earliest recorded history of baggie cooking is in 1974 when George Pralus recommended to the Troisgros Bros that poaching their foie gras in un sac would reduce the weight loss from 40% to 5%.While 1974 spoiled us with Loggins and Messina's live “Stage” album and Hustler magazine's inaugural “women's genitals” issue, the 1970's don't necessarily qualify as “Classic”, despite what some 30somethings may say. French cuisine began some 550 years before the births of Messrs Loggins, Messina, Flynt and almost every other minstrel or smut pioneer whose vintage records & flics oozed what many misassociate with “Classic”. The birth of vacuum cooking (which has it proper time and place) occurred during an era most identify as Nouvelle Cuisine, a “healthier, lighter” vision by Messrs Bocuse, Verge, Guerard and later L'Oiseau of the Haute Cuisine (Classic) attributed to Messrs Point and Escoffier (he developed the “kitchen brigade” concept, kind of like the one they have at Guy Savoy) whose codifying techniques were based on the premier progenitor of French culinary showmanship: Carême. Whole poached chicken in a rich, butter mounted or roux based sauce, with fluted mushrooms, turned vegetable, aspic fleurs de lys and pommes dauphines...that's classic. Chicken cooked in plastic.... a bleh, soulless, novelty execution you can perform while watching the show.

I would grudgingly pay half of that Tuesday for a bowl of the impoverished world's staple today and ask where the mussels are. That price tag deserves vialone nano, carnaroli or pezzo di culo.

Gallagher could have splayed the chickens faster than both with a deft smash of his novelty Sledge-O-Matic.

He left the f--king oysters attached to the chicken carcasses. Anyone who so arrogantly professes earth-quivering culinary passion and holds the corporate rank of Executive sous-chef at Guy Savoy would know to keep the oysters intact to the thigh or removed from the carcass and saved for royalty since the French equivalent of "poultry oyster" le sot l'y laisse is "the fool disregards it"...unless the executive title prefix specifies elite bathroom and parking privileges.

A fortnight past there was a dinner, coincidentally the anniversary of the day my tripe enthusiast grandfather's pipe broke and Louis Albert Marceau Fructidor turned his light out. In memory, I ordered what was fit for...a direct descendant of Charlemagne and Le Baron D'Apcher... an incorruptible school professor forced to flee Nice after turning over the portrait of Vichy's Marshal Petain in his classroom...a Resistance fighter who rescued victims of bombardments and stashed his revolver in my mother's crib...then a determined Rubik's cube figure-outer... yet puzzled by bicycle locks: andouillettes, a charred tubesteak composed of innards which carry body badness outwards offering a texture and whiff of organic balloon ends last inflated by the dying breaths of death deities who subsisted on Maroilles and Vieux-Boulogne cheese hot pockets. In the annals of comestible western civilization, many coprophagous analogies have been made . I have come closer to those than most (except puppies and sürstromming consumers). I would gladly regale my own grandchildren with tales of ancestral courage if my proliferation were not sanctioned by the damned prophylactic tongue-wilting barnyard sausage which even copious mouthfuls of strong mustard could not assuage. Pépé was indeed a very brave man.

That's cute. Consider booking a seat above and beyond. Martyring oneself over mac & cheese brunch is a victory without glory.

The svelte 4-episode French version "Plus Près des Etoiles" (Closer to the Stars) follows 7 of the country's highest rated apprentices as they compete, without flabby saddlebag drama, for a 6 month internship in judge Joël Robuchon's restaurants... possibly more substantial to a culinary career than a lifetime supply of disposable tupperwares. The televised distraction's host station suffers in terms of limited budget, audience (4am. Sunday time slot preceded by "Riptide" reruns) no cultured tension or silly Whole Foods sourced reinvent-the-bagel-sandwich-with-traditional-Ashkenazi-condiments challenges. It's sensational liabilities are compensated by the presence of elite chefs. Cameras focus on technique and horsepower rather than producer prodded squabbles and horse shit. 3 final candidates must create as well as write a methodical savory and sweet recipe with artisan products and are coached by starred stove heavyweights: 4th Generation chef Marc Haeberlin, Bruce Willisish Thierry Marx and creepy Raider of the Lost Arkish Marc Veyrat.

Ilan, in his trademark attention-starved wardrobe, suggested that Simple-pickle Sam surrounds himself with attractive women as a result of his insecurities. What the producers and Ilan omitted, notably after Episode 9, Season 2, aired Jan 3, 2007 in which he instructed Marcel to continue producing foams and then locate a corner in which to cry, was that on the last day of Ilan's 2001 externship at a reputable New York City restaurant he himself cried in the corner cavity of a changing-room locker after a prankster colleague soaked, vacuum sealed and froze his civilian pants (wallet included). Heavily edited, contrived drama and humiliation deserves the paltry $60K after taxes and stigma of being “that clown” throughout an industry and is very entertaining.

prenatal dietary restrictions may be unfounded.

Now they are businessmen. The work of dedicated tradesmen is diluted by greed, frozen fries and delicious money. Bean merchandising trumps cookery thereof.

Nitrate is traditional, and natural. In curing, the good bacteria help the nitrate ferment and it is converted into nitrite which then converts into nitric oxide which reacts with myoglobin proteins and imparts the dark red cured meat color. Prague Powder #1 (TCM (tainted curing mixture), pink salt, the pink shit) is 6.25% sodium nitrite. It is pink so that you don't confuse it with table salt. If you consume more than 2 oz. it will keep your blood from getting oxygen and you will slowly suffocate. You will have a nice rosy complexion upon your death and yet will paradoxically taste “cured.” It is used for fresh cured meats that are cooked or smoked or whatever above 155 F and imparts a characteristic cured flavor associated with hams, salami, bacon...etc. Prague Powder #2 is 6.25% sodium nitrite and 4% sodium nitrate. Naturally occurring mineral potassium nitrate or saltpeter has been traditionally used by western civilization to cure meats for, oh, the past 1600 years or so. The chemical compound salt sodium nitrate (#1) has less explosive properties than #2 and make it more reliable for curing meats. Nitrate breaks down more slowly than nitrite and is primarily used for longer dry cured applications which are not heated high enough to kill trichininosis. It also prevents oxidation and more importantly, like #1, the growth of the bacteria that causes botulism. Nitrates are limited to less than 3oz. per 100 lbs or you will be dead. #2 should never be substituted for #1, especially if the product is cooked at a high temperature. Nitrosamines may form and they may cause cancer, though the The National Research Council of the National Academy of Sciences has concluded that neither nitrite nor nitrate are carcinogenic. Like helmets, one probably doesn't need curing salt and won't look traditionally "cool", but they have a purpose and do not hurt.

Of Grapes & Wrath Not to be outdone or upstaged by France's stealthy FLNJ (Garden Gnome Liberation Front) CRAV's rabble rouser stunts include but are not limited to: March 1976. Gunfire breaks out between two CRS groups (French Police Corp) and several hundred vintners. 1 CRS commandant and 1 vintner get dead. December 1998. In response to cold weather and frost which affected vineyards in Aude, CRAV blows up a room in a hotel. “CRAV : frost” is scribbled on a wall. Vintners get $25 million in federal aide. February 2002. CRAV tries to destroy an electric facility. $180,000 worth of damage and “CRAV Lives On” graffiti found. 4 Days later 2002. CRAV's dynamite sticks make a train track signal control box thing which keeps trains from colliding go BOOM. Service is disrupted for a few hours. Railroad Syndicate denounces the act which could have killed many people. March 2005. Hooded CRAV hoodlums burn (or at least try to) metal shopping carts and their glass walled storage shelters at several supermarkets to protest highly competitive, low, low wine prices. April 2005. Elite CRAV operatives redecorate regional agriculture headquarters with explosive middle-eastern extremist flair. June 2007. Wearing unseasonal black balaclavas, CRAV spokesmen produce a cellphone-camera quality YouTube ultimatum demanding President Sarkozy raise the price of wine lest his blood flow.

Fresh, live lobsters or ammoniated dead ones from the bottom of the tank? Gimpy “Culls” (with one or both missing claws) cost a dollar or two less per lb.

June may not be the optimal month to consume oysters based on the seasonal warming of water temperatures. Warmer waters allow different regional varieties of oysters to grow bigger. Bigger oysters come from hotter confederate waters, whereas colder northern waters will yield reasonably smaller New England and PEI (all east coast oysters are of the same Crassotrea virginica species) and western Crassotrea gigas Puget Sound varieties like Kumomoto. The briny-side up goose egg-sized filter feeding gastropods consumed are probably mid-atlantic or gulf coast Blue Points which are reputed for their size, though a friend of mine once blushingly sucked down a Malpeque the size of a plantain Musacaea musa at The Oceanaire.

As per a “Free Ride” vignette in Friday's The Express: I enthusiastically applaud Mr. Seaver's campaign for reasonable fish consumption and $175 women's chef duds. I myself cook angel-hair pasta & wild caught Oregonian pink shrimp in Z-Cavaricci trousers when the ladies next door come over to watch The View and play Yahtzee. But what is he doing about panty lines? Do low-riding crotch-compromising designer dames dungarees require any man-scaping or tucking? Does he have a pair of post holiday “fat pants”?

Lofty expectations of service standards befitting to a monarch for 9 tardy people at a fledgling restaurant and notions of self-entitlement in a crowded bistro on Saturday nights are cute...but don't confuse factory-new steel and mass appeal with “caliber” and consider after-dinner mints before shooting from the hip. Fine marksman “caliber” diners - rather than sawed-off shotgun yahoos- might aim for off-peak hours/days when the staff has an opportunity to be attentive to a guest's larger target of satisfaction.

Replace the televisions with fishtanks or satellite aquarium TV if your bar does/can not offer enough social lubrication to have patrons interact with each other or the staff. The fishes are supposed to be therapeutic and won't curdle the atmosphere like shiny yet boring athletic results analysis does.

I would like to tangle with neither The Hersch nor The Lurching Ghost of Mrs. Child but contemporary savory Mille-feuilles, Napoleons and other whimsical interpretations of generally sweet productions* (chaussons, pithivers, galettes, palmiers, fleurons) may be the result of creative atrophy or passionless research as there exist savory puff based counterparts and no moratorium on new names/designs. Carême was using PP for savory applications, as documented in “Le Patissier Royal Parisien” 1810, and “Patissier Pittoresque” 1815 to invent vehicles for savory preparations with specific names as per their shape and usage: vol à vent, bouchées à la reine, croquants, tourtes, friands, croustades and such...Mrs. Child's cheese mille-feuilles may fall under square allumettes or minimalist stacked cheese koulibiac. Puff possibilities are endless, but savory pissaladières with a base other than bread dough (and with tomato) are modern northern dillusions of traditional southern Gallo-Roman fare and should be named as such. Officially, we owe the original puff pastry recipe to François Pierre de la Varenne's “modern” 1651 haute-cuisine breakthrough cookbook: Le Cuisinier François. Varenne's fundamental contributions to culinary posterity rival only those of Taillevent and Carême. His credited culinary firsts include: bouquet garni, oeufs à la neige, eggs white clarification, duxelle, béchamel (first to thicken soups with roux rather than Taillevent's bread) and, anyone, anyone...the mille feuilles, later perfected by Carême. Legends of the flakey pastry's origins include a 1311 charter by Robert du Fouilly, Bishop of Amiens in which “gateaux feuilletées” are to have been mentioned. Rabelais wrote of “Grand Gateaux Feuilletez (sic)” in his 1532 novel Pantagruel (son of Gargantua). A 17th century pastry chef named Feuillet, personal patissier to the Marshal of Condé is alleged to have invented the variety of dough, eponymous through past tense conjugation and gender. Not to be outdone, ca. 1620 another Frenchman inadvertently created puff stuff, allegedly. Upon the early death of his parents, Claude “Le Lorrain” Gellée became a pastry apprentice and followed a pastry troupe to Rome where he became a personal chef to artist Agostino Tassi. As well as cooking for the painter, Le Lorrain's duties included mixing colors which burgeoned a desire to paint as well. While juggling a toque and palette he is thought to have forgotten some dough and butter in a corner, then hastily folded, assembled and baked the equally inflated prototype. *1959: Lenny Lipton writes the lyrics for reefer anthem Puff the Magic Dragon, later recorded by Peter, Paul & Mary... then performed on the small stage in my 2nd grade class a long time ago.

(Insert yawn emoticon). Washingtonian covered that one about a year ago. And puff pastry translates to pâte feuilletée, not mille-feuille(s) which is merely a sweet application with custards thereof.

For those who thought they would learn how to make their own snake oil: Sallie Mae and the Gov't.